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sillyunknownkitkat · 10 months

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Undertale, Underswap, and underfell brothers react to a reader (platonic or not) that is hyper sexual

Mind that you're responsible for your own consumption, vague nsfw under the cut and sentive topics

No dni banner because there's nothing really explicit but it's implied

Undertale :

Sans

He noticed slight changes in your attitude before your crisis started. You were getting more and more bold, which is quite unusual for you.

Sans was worried for the few day you disappeared but understood that you may not want him to know about your problems. It didn't make him any less curious though.

It was a week after your first "symptoms" that he really got worried. So he went to your hiding place to confront you about it.

"Knock knock" Sans said, standing right in front of the bedroom's door.

"Sans?" You asked surprised and a bit panicked.

"S'not how the joke goes, kid. Knock knock." His tone wasn't particularly harsh, but he made it clear that he wasn't leaving. He used a tone that you had learned to interpret since knowing him.

"Who's there?" You said recluantly, you didn't want anyone to know about your bad habits

"Will." You thought for a bit, trying to guess the end of the joke but couldn't figure it out with your head still full of what's currently going on

"Will who?" Sans smiles a bit. Even in bad times, he still likes his jokes. It helps him relax a little.

"Will you open the door so we can talk face to face?"

So after putting on a sweatshirt and pyjama's pants, you get up and open the door.

"Hey.." You look down at his slippers.

"Hey, how 'bout we sit down and talk a bit, mh? M'not upset with you, just worried."

After you both settle down on the bed, you bring your knees to your chest and wait for him to start talking.

"Soooo, what's up, kiddo?"

Yeah... This is awkward for the both of you

So after you explained the things you were doing and how you felt while he patiently listened, he just asked you one thing.

"Is it because of a traumatic event you've been through?"

Now I let you decide what happened or not because everyone is different, but let's just say that if a person did something to make you feel that way, they're going to have a not so friendly chat with Sans.

Papyrus

Now, this cutie definitely didn't wait to ask you what was going on. I imagine him being autistic

So, while our pretty boy is definitely not stupid, I like to think he still struggles a bit with social clues. This means that he did ask you as soon as he noticed, but it might have taken quite a while.

Now, we all now Sans almost canonically struggles with depression so Paps can definitely help you a bit.

So, since no one can resist that cool face, you explained what was going on and let me tell you... That man was upset! Not at you but at the fact that you felt that way and he couldn't do anything about it. Not that it was his fault, but yk (*￣∇￣)ノ

Now he spent days telling you how amazing you were, how he loved you (platonically or not *wink wink*), and trying to get you attention on something else than your problem so you'd feel better.

Because you do. Not "maybe", you do 😭🔫😾

The cat is me, obviously 🙄

Underswap :

Blue (sans)

Might get hate on this one, but I think he struggles with hypersexuality too. I don't remember who's Au's it is, but there is one where he's popular on Instagram and where he's close friend with Viper (sf sans from that au which I use). So he knew what was going on before you told him.

Bb explained that he was like that, too, so you guys took care of each other :3

Like getting in comfy clothes, cooking a bit, cuddling, watching a movie, ... whatever you want!

And like spa treatments to echother too!

I'll probably write a part two for him in the future because, like this scenario + him, it's just ✨️perfect✨️

Stretch (us papyrus)

Even tho he's younger than blue, he still took care of his brother and therefore knew what was going on too. So when he sees you, he just picks you up with his magic, drags you to the couch, and pretty much instantly falls asleep on you. Well, he's not really sleeping, but you don't know that.

After a while, you start to cry silently because you feel kind of disgusting. Stretch cling to you a tiny bit harder and starts to purr "in his sleep" to try and console you.

Yes, skeletons purr, don't ask me why or how.

Anyway, after a while of being soothed, you fall asleep, and Stretch is smiling like an idiot because he managed to help you even the tiniest bit.

After both of you wake up, he goes to ask Blue what he can do to help you and apply with the wtv he tells him.

Blue might even join to talk to you a bit :)

Underfell :

Red (uf sans)

He knew what was going on but didn't want to bother you with it. The man already knows how hard it is when you're going through tough times.

So he kinda let you be but sometimes he comes buy and offer you to do some things.

It's not in a really nice way but not rude either, just a bit rough, I guess

He was like, "How 'bout you do something instead of just lying there, huh?"

He is not an asshole. He just grew up in a difficult world and therefore kinda has a stick stuck up in his non-existent ass.

If you don't move, he'll literally drag you out of bed and sit you on the couch with a movie already picked paused on the TV.

If you talk about it, he'll listen and suggest things that might help you, but if you don't, he'll do whatever he can while being "subtle."

Edge (uf papyrus)

He catched you crying when he opened the door of your bedroom to ask you to come downstairs since dinner was ready. Now Edge is by no means a cruel person, but he had to do things to survive in the underground. I like to think that when they all got out, he and Red cut links with most of the other monsters.

So now he got quite a lot softer, but it's still Edge, so don't expect too much.

He sat down next to you and brung a hand to your back (a bit awkwardly, but the man is learning people)

"I'M HERE IF YOU NEED TO TALK." he told you in the softest voice he could manage to get out (it wasn't soft, but since you know him and how he talked you understood that he was trying)

Same as his brother, if you talk, he'll listen, but he might be a bit more insistant with his advice. Again, not in a rude way, just in his way of saying thing.

If you don't, he'll probably get a little offended that you don't trust him even after he tried his best to be soft but still understands why you may not want to talk about your problems.

Not verified afterwards, sorry ;^;

So this is it :) it's a bit shitty ngl but I tried my best.

Kinda self indulge, honestly, but I'm better now so dw

If you have a similar problem or even another one, my dm's are opened, don't stay alone in your misery.

I might not answer right away (I live in Western Europe), but I will as soon as I can

Have a good day/night, and be safe, everyone. <3

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sir-gale · 6 months

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#can you tell he’s my favorite #art #digitalart #undertale #undertale papyrus #papyrus #sans #undertale sans #undertale fanart #uf papyrus #underfell #oc #self insert #papyrus x reader #undertale papyrus x reader

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moonstrider9904 · 4 months

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Show Me

Part 1 of the Urban Flora mini series

Part 2 | Part 3 | Cross-posted to AO3 | Series Masterlist

Summary: At the opera, you meet a mysterious, debonair man who strikes your fancy. Will you risk your reputation to spend some time with him?

Tags: Smut (18+ only), flirting, alcohol consumption, clit play, vaginal fingering, some profanity

Word count: 4.2k

Playlist: Show Me by Alina Baraz

You clenched every muscle in your body to keep from flinching at the abnormally high frequency that made your eardrums thunder. The singer on the stage of the opera theater was undoubtedly talented, and you wouldn’t be the one to question or criticize her performance—that didn’t make the physical impact of her highest note, signaling the number’s musical climax, any duller. And for a moment you thought, so what if you did flinch? Would anybody really notice if you did that?

There were a couple of reasons as to that in your favor. For one thing, you were the senator’s daughter, not the senator herself. If anyone’s pair of eyes went to the box from where you were sitting next to your mother in that theater, they would be looking at your mother, not at you. For another thing, the opera singer, with her powerful performance, held everyone’s attention.

Regardless, the power of the singer’s voice decreased before you could even make up your mind, and applause roared throughout the entire theater. You clapped your gloved hands, smiling softly as the curtain fell on the stage and the lights lit themselves halfway along the theater, signaling an intermission. Beside you, your mother sighed, pleased at the performance, and she reached for her glass of bubbly. You knew your mother opted to remain in the box through the intermissions, often chatting with her maid or the bodyguards, but that wasn’t the case for you. You’d use the intermissions to stretch your legs and drench yourself in the habitat of the opera house, always finding something or someone to catch your attention. The countless stories you’d overheard were revolting, each holding a golden little piece of gossip that would ruin their subjects if they ever got out, and when you mixed them with the exquisite food and drink you could find in the opulent setting, you’d get a recipe for a luxuriously good time.

You’d learned to love the setting. If your mother’s job meant you could have that, you wouldn’t be opposed to it.

Your mother already knew of your habit to go take a walk during intermissions, and by that point, she only had to acknowledge you with a nod before you went off on your own. It was the case that night as well, and you stood up from your chair to make your way out into the halls and walked headed straight for the common room. You made a quick stop at the nearest powder room to make sure your hair and makeup were still in place, and you took your place in front of the full-body mirror and turned on the spot to evaluate your burgundy gown, also making sure it had no problems. Much to your pleasure, it looked flawless on your body, it’s A-line trim favoring your silhouette and flattering you from head to toe, and the lacy outer level gave the gown an extra touch of elegance and regality fit for the place you were in, fit for the daughter of the senator of Coruscant.

After being sure everything was perfectly in place, you finally made your way to your favorite place in the opera house. You undoubtedly turned heads, but that wasn’t why you were there at the moment. You headed straight for the bar and took your usual spot at the left corner, right next to a short, warm-light lamp that illuminated the left side of your body and added a fine gleam to your silhouette when paired with the overhead warm lighting of the common room. You asked the bartender for your usual: they called it an Urban Flora Tonic, containing a balanced blend of gin, grapefruit juice and other citrus extracts, making the drink take a dull blood-orange hue, with a large, thin slice of cucumber rolled up to resemble a rose crowning the drink, resting on top of the thick layer of ice cubes. The glass was large and round, and you had to wrap your entire hand around it to pick it up. As you did, your back turned on the bar and you were facing the rest of the room as you remained seated upon your spot, and you took in the whole sight.

You knew there was juicy gossip coming from at least three points in the room. Homing in on the different conversations wasn’t beyond your abilities, but much to your surprise, you were finding yourself getting distracted. It began the first moment you noticed from the opposite side of the common room there was a pair of observative eyes watching you, unblinking. Their owner was sitting back on a large couch, alone; he was dressed entirely in black save for the thin, opaque cape draped over his left shoulder with a gray brooch securing it. He had gray hair and warm toned skin that complemented the light of the room, and one leg crossed over the other. The lower half of his face was covered by the large glass of a golden beverage—you assumed it could either be whisky or bourbon—but soon enough, he lowered the glass to reveal thin lips and a slim jaw, slightly darkened by a coarse-looking stubble, and your heart fluttered in your chest at the sheer perfection with which his features were all aligned in one attractive face, and then, your focus honed in on the tattoo that outlined his right eye.

He was handsome, no doubt, and in your position, that could be dangerous.

Despite that danger, you smiled at the man, your features drenched with intrigue and allure. You were pleased when you saw him smirk back at you just before lifting his glass one more time to take a large sip. When he did, your smile widened just slightly and then you turned around to face the bar again, angling your body just so your back would arch and your behind would be emphasized by your dress—you knew exactly what you were doing. Daintily, you took a sip from your Urban Flora tonic, and you waited. You took in the sounds and the scents, the flavor of your cocktail, until at last, you felt a presence beside you.

“What’s that you’re drinking, darlin’?”

You angled your body towards your right now, facing the mysterious, attractive man, and you flirtatiously smiled at his voice, velvety and deep and even more enticing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You purred in return.

“It looks colorful,” the man mused. “Aren’t you worried that drink might be a little too hard for such a petite girl?”

He reached his hand out and tapped your chin with his knuckle. In response, you slowly turned your head away from his touch as your shoulders moved closer to your chin, and you smiled.

“Oh, sir,” you said. “Now I know for sure you’re not from around here, otherwise you’d know that a gesture like that would turn us into the subject on everyone’s mouths for the rest of the night.”

“My sincerest apologies,” the man crooned as the hand that had touched your chin went to his chest. He took a seat in the stool next to you, his amber eyes drilling deep into yours.

“Let me guess,” you raised a brow. “New money.”

He chuckled low in his chest, his lips curving into a smirk, and he took another sip from his drink before answering. “No, though I’d like that. Not having to work another day of my life sounds enticing, especially in my line of work.”

You tilted your head for a moment, confused. “Though, I must say, you do look strikingly familiar.”

The man chuckled again. “I have the face of around two million men, though you’ll agree with me, I’m at least twice as handsome as the average.”

You focused on his features and put his words together with what you were reasoning, and you gasped softly when the realization poured itself upon you.

“You’re a soldier,” you stated.

“And you’re smart too,” the man purred at you. “I do love a pretty girl who packs a brain.”

You couldn’t help the obscenely flirty giggle that escaped you as you felt heat rushing to your cheeks. You then turned to him again and now you crossed one of your legs over the other underneath your skirt, inching your body closer to him, drawn in by this man’s magnetism.

“And may I ask,” you began, “what’s a clone trooper, a soldier of the Republic, doing around these parts of Coruscant? Not to be rude, of course, it’s just… not where I would expect to find one of you.”

Otherwise, you’d be there more often.

“I recently saved the Supreme Chancellor’s life,” he uttered nonchalantly, seemingly giving a larger priority to his beverage than any accolades that could come his way.

But your eyebrows raised as you remembered your mother telling you about that, and the coverage that was given to that on the news. “That was you?”

“In the flesh, darlin’,” he said as he finished downing his drink. He set the glass on the bar and reached near him to grab an olive on a toothpick, and after he’d eaten the olive, he let the toothpick rest between his lips as he looked your way again. He had to admit, he liked the way you were looking at him, starry-eyed and innocent, astonished, perhaps a bit seduced by the fact that he was a soldier.

“Well,” you said, swirling your drink in your hand, eyes unwaveringly on him. “Thank you for your service.”

The man chuckled. “Oh, it’s nothing. All I did was shoot down an assassin from a penthouse five klicks away, timing my blast perfectly so it wouldn’t hit any of the ships transiting through the city. I won’t give a lady such gruesome details, but it did the job.”

You felt a clenching between your legs that was slowly becoming desperate, and your eyes seemed to glow as you listened to him.

“Wow,” you sighed. “That’s amazing…”

He removed the toothpick from between his lips and cast it inside of his empty glass, and when he looked at you again, he was pleased by the fact that you were much closer to him than before.

“And…” your voice had lowered to just above the whisper thanks to the proximity. “What name do you go by?”

He leaned in slightly closer as well, smirking. “You’re looking at it.”

You scanned his features and your gaze settled on the finely traced tattoo over his right eye, and you smirked back at him as you locked eyes with him, grinning seductively.

“Crosshair?” You guessed.

He hummed in satisfaction, his lips now hovering dangerously close to yours. “Good girl, so smart.”

You considered throwing reason out the window and letting the space between your lips close—being the subject of gossip would be worth it for a man as painfully sexy as him. But you were stopped by the bells chiming on the speakers of the opera house, alerting the first call for the continuation of the performance.

Crud. You had forgotten where you were for a moment.

“I assume you have someplace to be?” Crosshair crooned.

You pouted at him. “Yes. Though… I’d love to stay and get acquainted.”

“And would anyone notice your absence?” He asked.

“Yes,” uttered. “And if anyone found out I was with a soldier, it would be ballistic. I’d need to come up with a damn good excuse.”

“Well…” Crosshair smirked. “Having saved the Chancellor’s life comes with some privileges for the night, including my very own box for the night. And, as you may well know, every box…”

“Comes with its own room behind it,” you finished for him.

“A room where we could definitely get acquainted,” he offered. “Would you like to check it out?”

You didn’t have to think about it. It sounded far better than finishing the opera you’d already watched at least twice before, and when your decision was made, you smiled.

“Show me and I’m all yours. Let me just send a comm,” you said, and you quickly brought out your comm device to tell your mother you’d be a little late—those darn acoustics had given you a headache, and your cocktail prevented you from taking conventional medication. When you were done, you put it back in your purse, and you stood up to link your arm in Crosshair’s, and he led the way.

The walk towards his box was a blur, and soon you were inside a room that was nearly identical to the one behind you and your mother’s box except for the presence who occupied it. Crosshair closed the door behind him and watched as your gaze observed the details of the room, from the lamps to the curtain that concealed you and him from the rest of the theater. When your gaze finally fell on him, you walked closer to him only to take a seat on the elegant couch beside you, with your back straight and your legs pressed together, your hands resting on your thighs. Crosshair felt allured by the ladylike posture you’d adopted, and he went to sit next to you, his tall frame hovering over you as he reached his hand out once more for his knuckle to gently brush your chin.

“Can I do this here?” He asked.

You giggled softly. “Yes.”

His hand slowly slid past your jaw and found rest at the nape of your neck, where his fingertips could gently brush with loose strands of your hair. “You’ll have to be very quiet.”

“Mm,” you hummed. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

Crosshair inhaled sharply through closed teeth in an attempt to suppress a growl, and you melted at the sight of his half-lidded eyes and his slightly bared teeth, a devastatingly seductive expression for such a strikingly handsome face. You were ready for him to take you and show you his skillset, and by the stars, he was ready to dive in. After an excruciating wait, Crosshair crashed his lips onto yours, breaking the kiss for a few moments to look you in the eyes again.

“Where are my manners?” He mused. “I don’t know your name yet, darlin’.”

You giggled and leaned in close to his ear, whispering your name. Crosshair moaned faintly at the syllables you pronounced, and he leaned in to resume kissing down your jawline, and he muttered your name once before finally finding your lips again and kissing you with a burning hunger. He pushed his body forward, making you lie on the couch, without breaking the kiss, with his hands running all over your torso and your legs over your skirt.

It was when his hands slipped under your skirt that you had to clench every muscle in your body to keep from moaning. His fingertips sliding up your shins and thighs sent delightful sensations all through your body like electricity coursing through your wires. It was as if Crosshair didn’t need to undress you with his hands. He could do that only with his mind. He could speak to you with no words, telling you how great his desire was with every brush of his tongue with yours and the curious, seductive groans that escaped him as he observed the texture and curves of your legs with his fingertips and kneaded your flesh wherever you were most plump.

Almost unconsciously, you had spread your legs as you lay flat on your back on the couch. You wanted him to have all the access, and Crosshair seemed to purr at you when he noticed. He pressed himself harder onto you and his kissing never ceased, and you sunk into the bliss that came with making out with Crosshair as he slid his hands up and down your legs underneath your skirt, with his fingers inching closer to the very inside of your thighs each time. Still, you knew that was going to have to wait—Crosshair definitely didn’t strike you as the kind of man to rush things for the sake of a quick release, and you loved that.

His lips on yours took you higher with each second that passed. The kiss was warm and passionate and tasted of whisky and citrus, and his tongue danced with yours inside your mouth, granting you sweet and fiery friction that deliciously hinted at that sensation on other parts of your body. You succeeded in keeping your moans at bay, whimpering delicately into Crosshair with each tiny wave of sparks sent down your body, and you could tell how much the sound riled him up when he dug his nails into your thighs or your ass in response. Aching for more, you nibbled gently on Crosshair’s lower lip, basking in the low, grumbling moan he struggled to contain at the sensations you caused when you lightly tugged on his lip with your teeth, and you dove in for another kiss only for him to do the same to you. The fire within you had grown so intense that you had to clutch his silver locks, short as they were, giving them a light tug, and by doing that, you caused Crosshair to buck his hips forward in response, letting you feel the hard erection even through the skirt of your dress.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered between kisses, and finally, Crosshair slid his fingers teasingly around your inner thighs and getting dangerously close to your panties. He wrapped his fingers around the delicate panties that shielded your cunt from his touch, and painfully slowly, he slid them down your smooth legs, shooting a glance into your eyes as he did as a final way to ask for your approval.

You nodded at him as you looked him straight in the eyes, and then you pulled him in for another kiss, ready for him to have his way with you.

Crosshair put your panties aside where they wouldn’t be hard to find afterwards, although the idea of you wandering around with no undergarments beneath that exquisite gown made him want to rip it clean off you. But this was still a place of elegance, and he imagined that gown had taken at least some effort for you to put on, and he wouldn’t disrespect that. He smirked to himself at the thought of him having to please you with that dress still on, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

His fingertips weren’t quite at your folds yet, but Crosshair could feel your wetness leaking around your delicate skin. Crosshair took his long middle and index fingers and brushed your folds from bottom to top a few times as he gazed into your eyes wanting to take in your expression. You appeared dazed as you looked back into his eyes, feeling his touch on your warm, wet cunt, your mind soaring with the thoughts of everything you wanted him to do with you. He kept up his current pattern until he felt a switch was in order, and Crosshair rested his two fingertips on the swollen and exposed bud of your clit, and he began to rub slow, steady circles on it. You bit your lip to keep from moaning at the delicious feeling of his fingers sliding effortlessly over your flesh, coated by your wetness, and you gazed into his eyes until you let your head gracefully fall back on the couch’s armrest for support as you allowed yourself to slip into a state of bliss.

Crosshair smirked at the sight of you, delighted and pleased. The circular motion of his fingers on your clit increased its pace, and he pressed only a tad harder into your flesh, but he managed to elevate your pleasure onto a whole other level by doing that. The sweet sensations boiled low in your core and expanded throughout your entire labia, and you felt your body rising to such a heat that you began to sweat. Your breathing hardened against Crosshair’s lips, kissing him with more force the closer you felt yourself approaching ecstasy, and you felt as though you had to cling to him for support even though you were lying back on a couch. You needed that beautiful release, ached for it, felt it closer and closer each second, until at last, that delicious heat overflowed within you and sent you into a spiral of fiery delight.

Your body squirmed in Crosshair’s grip, and you relied on the feeling of Crosshair’s lips on yours to keep you from screaming at such intense pleasure. Your chest pressed up to him with each wave of your orgasm, and Crosshair watched you, smirking seductively at the sight of you so enticing and beautiful, overwhelmed that pleasure that he gave you. You were able to pick up on things that Crosshair briefly muttered under his breath, tender whispers of “Yes” and “Good girl” that made you see white, until your hips gave a sturdy buck forward in a particularly strong wave of pleasure.

Crosshair removed his fingertips from your clit for a moment to let you catch your breath, and your heart sank at the thought of him being done with you. Any dread within you shattered when you felt his touch on your all too sensitive clit once more, but this time, Crosshair slid his fingertips downward and approached your entranced. He teased the little hole only for a few seconds, enough to draw a sweet, delicious little whimper from you which he chuckled at in the sexiest way you could fathom, and then, Crosshair slid a long and slender finger down your entrance. You sucked air in through your teeth and clawed into the couch in another attempt at discretion, for he was showing you once again how talented he was. Crosshair’s finger moved at the perfect pace and curled at the perfect angle, brushing your sensitive spots like it was second nature.

For a moment, you thought that would be it, and you were already close to another release. That was until you felt Crosshair pull his finger out for the briefest second before coming back in with a fuller, deeper sensation; he’d slid two fingers into you now, enhancing every sensation that you felt. Your eyes widened in admiration at him and nervousness at yourself—if he continued, you weren’t sure how loud you would be or if you would be capable of containing yourself. You lifted your head and looked at Crosshair again, gazing into his striking gaze that appeared gentle as he focused solely on you and your pleasure. You let a hand travel up to cup his cheek, wanting to bring him even closer to you than he already was, and this time around, your orgasm crept up on you slowly, silently, taking over your body with expertise to make you crumble even harder.

Your eyes rolled back, and you no longer made sense of the world around you. You then shut your eyes hard and embraced Crosshair, pressing him strongly onto you, rocking your hips forward and back for even more friction that engulfed you in sparks. All you could make a remote thought of was how much this man amazed you, and how much no man would probably ever live up to his standard. The waves of your pleasure wore on as Crosshair persisted, and you felt yourself on the verge of blacking out, when Crosshair retrieved his hand from you and helped you gently up to sitting on the couch.

It took you a few minutes to recover, which Crosshair noticed, chuckling softly at how endearing you were post lovemaking. He’d gotten up to do something you didn’t quite make sense of, but you did notice when he went and sat next to you, with one hand resting softly at your knee while the other handed you back your panties.

You looked over at him, still dazed, though a bit confused. “What about you?”

Crosshair chuckled. “I’ll survive. We should probably return to where we should be. It might be considered rude if I’m not at the seat I was offered.”

“Oh, right,” you said, with his previous statement finishing the effort of bringing you back to reality. You eyed him again, this time more in the spirit of joking, but only halfway. “Are you sure? I could suck you into oblivion in under five minutes, the opera’s still gonna last longer than that.”

Crosshair laughed again. “Enticing, but no. Go on, darlin’.”

With a smile, you put your panties back on and hesitated before leaving the room, considering for a moment finishing the opera next to him. You’d occupy the seat on the left and take in the performance once more, enjoying the company far more than whatever was going on the stage, sneaking occasional looks at him only to find out he was already looking at you, perhaps reaching for his hand to hold it throughout the remainder of a performance

The implications were astonishingly scandalous, and you’d never hear the end of it. Neither of you would. Besides, for all you knew, what had just happened had only been a fling, regardless of how much you were feeling at the moment.

Your eyes met his piercing gaze for one final time before you ran out of his room, checking the surroundings for any bystanders before you made your way down the opulent halls. Your box was just a couple of stories above Crosshair’s, and it didn’t take you long to arrive. When you did, you held your hand over your head, imitating pain, but you gave her a reassuring smile.

Your mother asked no questions, and she returned your smile briefly before focusing her attention on the soloist down on the stage once more. You looked around at the people watching the performance, most of them focused on the stage, a few of them distracted, and a couple even asleep. You then understood that no one had seen you, and a wave of triumph showered itself over you.

You probably would have liked it better if you knew there was a chance for the night’s events to repeat themselves, but given your position, that would be begging for trouble. The ramifications could be wide, and you told yourself that again and again every single time you felt the longing to return to that man’s embrace.

You would have to make do without him.

Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging to support me!

Next chapter ->

#moonstrider writes #uf series #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair smut #crosshair smut #tbb crosshair #tbb smut #the bad batch smut #tbb fanfic #the bad batch fanfic #tbb crosshair x you #crosshair x you

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nyctophiliq · 1 year

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✮ ┆ TIPPING OVER. abby anderson (the last of us)

— “a glass full of tension, tips over in time”

content warnings. MDNI, nsfw content, female bodied reader, loser! abby, pet names, crying, groping, scratches/scars, strap-on use, nipple pinching, grinding (?), overstimulation author’s notes. special dedications for the yummy @sevikasimp bcuz they helped me

“such a good baby, doing as I say.” you hummed against the shell of abby’s ear, her strap moving between your slick folds with small, uncoordinated trusts, the tip hitting your clit each and every time. you chuckle laying back on the couch, watching as her back twitches as the strap gets caught under the hood of your cunt, and the nub on the other side of the strap on sank into her. abby’s cold, calloused hand grabbed your tit and give it a hard squeeze, digging her nails into your soft skin when her attempt to push the toy between your wet lips failed and the toy pushed against her clit cruelly.

you were a sight for sore eyes in this state, something that abby couldn’t experience too often but you did, god knows you did because you were so mean to her. but now, as the drool spilled from the corner of your mouth you were just so fucking cute, swollen lips gaping open as you take those shallow breath, your weak hands grabbing onto her biceps, giving them gentle squeezes as your body shudders all the while your eyes are glued to where the two of you connect.

“p-please sugar… just wan’be inside.” she whined, head hanging as she tried to palm the toy and line it up with your wet cunt, pushing the tip through your folds. you grinned faintly at her anticipation, gasping words, and eyes telling you to let her just push it in already.

you know she wasn’t gonna hold much longer with this pace, but you weren’t gonna give up until she was sobbing from pleasure. however, you were just as close to the edge as you were, pitifully. one of your hand groping her clothed breast, squeezing and kneading it while your other hand was under her shirt, pinching and pulling her nipple between your fingers. abby’s eyes shut close at her harsh touch, knuckles white as her grip on the sheets became tighter, her hips shaking.

“jus’ wanna cum while inside you, p-please, please!”

you could barely hold yourself together, hearing her so needy and seeing her pathetic reactions from just grinding against her but you managed to get it out, “not a c-chance, you can’t baby, okay? you can’t…” you breath out, eyes already heavy when you feel that knot in your stomach being hold by one single tread. it was gonna be too soon that you come, clenching on nothing as you watch abby struggle to keep herself up above you.

“then f-faster, let me d-do it faster!” she cries, and you can only nod as you are ready for the rush of heat to take over you.

oh god and when you do, when you do you choke on your spit and your neck snaps back against the armrest of the couch. abby came also, shyly crying and whining like a puppy, her hips moving ceaselessly as she chases for another high so ineptly. it killed you as she overstimulated you, any attempt you made to ask her to stop was strangled by the overwhelming pleasure wrecking your body once again. huffing, abby’s sweaty body fell next to your exhausted one, clinging to you as soon as she could wrap her arms around your body. she hummed against your warm skin, mouthing something you couldn’t understand, not just because it was muffled, but also because your ears were still ringing from the first orgasm and it tuned out most of the noises.

#�� — written by moss !#tlou x reader #tlou x reader smut #tlou smut #the last of us x reader #the last of us x reader smut #the last uf us smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson smut #the last of us abby x reader smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x female reader smut #the last of us abby x reader #the last of us abby anderson x reader #the last of us abby

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savi-our · 1 year

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Thinking about UF Sans or Red whos so gruff and mean, a dude who gives and takes to shits, a guttural and deep snarl to his tone as he drives away all who get too close, not that anyone is really inclined to get anywhere near him, his loom and doom making anyone keep their distance.

His one only weakness - pretty little humans.

Hes soft on them, so fucking soft on them its ridiculous. His crimson eyelights pick them out across the bar or any other hole in the wall place he haunts. His hum almost pleased as he takes notice. His approach is slow, but forward, careful to not scare them - conscious of his tone, a deep sultry to his words as he shoots them a one liner.

Hes like a battle torn bear that is sweet on his honey, hes mindful, careful not to push, despite how much he wants to touch you - envelop you, taste you. Hes protective, driving anyone who ever had the thought in approaching you away but not stopping you from leaving if youre so inclined. But hes crafty, witty - turns up the charm straight to 11, eager to please you, to have you.

Hes big and bad, a wolf, and hes hungry - starving, greedily drinking you in, drowning in your attention, it makes him purr.

Thinking about Red whos soft for a pretty little thing in a crowd, his rough fingers twitching in his pockets, his grin sharp. Even if you dont pay him any mind he wont let anyone touch you, he wont bother you neither, satisfied to watch you glow in the dim bar lighting...

#undertale #underfell #underfell imagines #underfell x reader #undertale imagines #uf sans #uf sans x reader #i cant stop thinking about it #im actually writing about it now #this is my cannon now you cant tell me otherwise #im dying on this hill #fuck

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marigoldsandbuttercups · 10 months

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maybe s/o seems quiet, calm and even shy at times, but it turns out that they used to work as a stripper and they were super famous and made a lot of money. s/o stopped because they were afraid that because of their non-standard work, the skellies would want to leave s/o. For Ut, Us and Uf.

love your blog☺️

Woah That's A Cool Job, Bro

(Why thank ya, friend. I really appreciate that 💖)

Sans: "huh," he starts out, and doesn't really elaborate much on it. You can hear him chuckle as he watches you try to figure out just what he meant by that. And as much as he would like to admire the way your face looks as you think, he knows this is a serious topic. He takes your hand, touch as gentle as the wind itself before pulling you just a little closer to him.

What? Can't a guy have a nice cuddle whilst talking about his relationship?

It's easy for him to disarm you, to have you relax because he really doesn't want you to feel like you're walking on eggshells around him. He looks calm as ever as you explain but you know better, from the way his touches linger on you and how his eyelights never stray from you. When it's his turn to speak, Sans isn't really much for words, but he makes it known that he's always rooting for you. Once he's in love, he's all in, and he will always show that, one way or another.

Papyrus: Not offended in the least bit. If anything, he would have a deep fascination with your job and how you work. He's into it, the flair, the dramatics, the legs! He thinks it's Very Cool™. Papyrus isn't one to really judge people by their personality, especially when he's had experience of people doing the same to him. Sure, he'd be surprised but it's more so good surprise because... He wants to know more about you, after all.

He'd also be surprised when you express your fear to him, understanding that the way humans and monsters view certain things differently is very much at play here. Papyrus also doesn't care how long you've been together, if it's something you wanna do, he's ready to support you and you will never experience any judgement from him. (Your workouts are gonna be super fun btw, he had Plans™)

Blue: After you tell him, he kinda just... Goes quiet for a bit. It worries you, rightfully so as you find it hard to properly discern his expression. But he moves a step closer to you and holds your hands, first assuring you that you never have to be afraid to tell him anything. Blue would want to make it known as soon as possible that he will be by you no matter what, your safe space, your pillow to fall on.

But he also assures you that he trusts you, anything you want to do is for you to choose but he will support it so long as you're safe and happy. That's all that really matters to him in the end since, well, it's one of the reasons he fell for you anyway, the fact that it's you. (Also would probably point out the pretty outfits you have and if you'd model for him-)

Stretch: Definitely do not tell him while he's eating or drinking because he will choke. He would then panic and say he didn't choke because he was angry or anything like that, he was just... Very surprised. And he is! He just gets extremely flustered at the idea of you doing literally anything (boy is whipped I tell ya). It takes him a while to completely articulate his thoughts because he wants to tell you that's so cool but also wants to tell it's okay and that you're so awesome and-

There's a lot going through his mind, and you're sat there in dumbfounded silence as you watch the orange hue begin to cover his entire skull. But! He does eventually gather his thoughts and tells you that.. Hey, he thinks you're an amazing person and he's loved you far too long for anything like that to get in the way. He trusts you, and he hopes you trust him as much.

Red: "that's hot-" and he stops upon seeing your face and chuckles. He holds his hands up in defense before moving a little closer once you're a little more relaxed. He starts small, holding your hand before explaining what the culture is like from where he is. He's not the best with words, but Red does succeed in getting his message across, that being:

It is your life, you have the right to decide what you wanna do and what you don't wanna do. But whatever it is you choose to do, he's got your back, no matter how "out there" it is or whatever. You want it? You got it and Red will absolutely make sure that you can depend on him for supporting you. (still will tell you it's hot af tho)

Edge: You think he's judging you but really that's just his resting face. He's a little surprised by the fact that you're so... Unsure of telling him. He voices this concern, because to him, these kinds of things were rather normal in the underground. Whatever it was, as long as it was a means to survive. He takes this a little too seriously, not that it is a bad thing, but it can be rather daunting when he's staring you down as you're both seated on your couch.

And the whole thing kinda... Makes you laugh a little.

Perhaps from how nervous you are, from how overly invested Edge is, but.. it's.. Touching. He's rightfully confused, and huffs when he finds out why, feeling a little shy.(but you would never catch him admitting that lmao). The dramatics only last for a while before you gather your thoughts and explain and Edge is.. Very gentle about it. It's one of those moments that make you understand just why you fell for him, how he makes sure that you understand that he would never, ever judge you for that. He respects you, and he will respect the choices you make as long as you're okay.

#hueheu you can also support me by visiting my ko-fi teehee #LOLOL #undertale #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons #underfell #underswap #sans x reader #papyrus x reader #uf sans x reader #uf papyrus x reader #underswap sans #us papyrus x reader #under swap papyrus x reader

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yeosin-n · 7 months

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let me give you some chocolates 😈

& someone random i GUESS

#error!sans #errortale #utmv #sans x reader #myart #ask #sans x self insert #sans x y/n #anon #hES BEEN ON MY MIND FOR WEEKS #thsnk u for giving me this opportunity #I went down an error rabbit hole and can’t get out #uf!sans #underfell #GOD I LOVE HIM #DRAWING HIM MADE ME LOVE HIM MORE #comic

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ghostfanwriter · 1 year

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🔥✨ Safe with him ✨🔥

Part two to Safe✨🔥

🔥 Pairing: Raider!Joel Miller x afab!Non-innocent Reader.

✨Synopsys: Joel is trying his best to stay away, but you're also doing your best to break him. When one of his men try to hurt you, you understand why his people respect fear him so much. And just how safe you are with him.

🔥 Features: 🔞 content — Attempt of sexual assault (not graphic), violence, murder, teasing, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, riding Joel's face, choking, praise with degradation (my favorite 🌟), creampie (he does it twice), a bit of cockwarming at the end.

✨ Word Count: Over 6k.

🔥 About this: First part of this felt so organic, so natural, it was hard to write something that felt like stood up to it. This part is more packed with smut, with some story in-between. Also, make sure to always read the alt text of the gifs I use, in this one I explained the face I imagine him doing sometimes.

✨ Author's note: It took me forever, but it's finally here. Hope you like it as much as you did the first one. The reception to it was insane, and I can't thank you enough for all the love 💕. Once again likes, reblogs and comments are very, highly appreciated 💖

Good reading ✨🔥

🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨

"Joel, Joel... Joel."

Some days it was the only word you'd say out loud besides 'Yeah, I'm alright. Don't need anything.'

You called, but he seemed to never listen. To never feel you call, to never come back.

You just hoped he would if you actually needed him.

🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨

You thought Stockholm syndrome needed some time to settle in.

But apparently not. From day one, you're into this.

You're into him.

You honestly don't even think about the people back home. How scared and worried they must be for all of you, looking for you and hoping to find you all well one day.

You sometimes think about your people who are here, but The Man always reassures you.

"Told you, doll. They're working. Helping us build, cook, hunt. They're all alive and safe."

Was it true?

Maybe, maybe not.

But you were blocking all of those places in your mind. It was easier if you didn't think.

If you focused on making The Man happy.

If he were happy with you he wouldn't hurt your people, because you cared for them.

Right?

You could only hope. Only trust him somehow.

So you do what you can.

You keep him happy.

You clean, you cook, you wash his clothes. You brush your hair, put on pretty clothes he got you and use some perfume he told his men to find for you on a run for supplies.

You make sure to let him watch you. To finish cooking when you know he's coming home, always when the sun is setting, because you know he likes to see it. Clean — specially low places — when he's around, so you can bend over and give him a glimpse of you underwear.

Those were his favorites: domesticality and profanity.

Playing house with you while enjoying the view, while fantasizing about you.

The problem was...

He never let you touch him again after that night.

He'd look, his eyes always on you, but he wouldn't come close, he wouldn't give in again.

But each night you needed him more, you craved him.

So you used your weapons.

✨🔥′

Today he only left once, first thing in the morning for a couple of minutes, before coming back home and staying for the day. He had lunch with you, talking and laughing as you did, played his guitar on his porch, and watched you while you cleaned his wardrobe.

His favorite hobby.

"I thought you never wore anything under your dresses, baby." He said from his bed as you bent down to clean, giving him a full view of your covered ass.

"You never check." You responded, an edge of disappoinment on your voice.

"Thought I could trust you, sugar. But apparently not, will have to see for myself everyday now." He said, and you stopped cleaning, and, keeping your knees straight, slowly removed your panties, throwing it at him.

He took it with a grunt and slowly started stroking himself, just from looking at you. When he was getting close, he called you.

"Fuck, baby, come here. Don't wanna make a mess for you to clean." He panted, beckoning for you to come over.

You walked to him, seeing that your panties were in his hand, around his cock, wet, covered in his precum.

You kneel in front of him and he grabs the back of your neck, pulling your mouth down on him.

"Just the tip, baby. Just enough for you to take it." You happily do as you're told, sucking his tip for a couple of minutes, while he pumped himself deep and slow, his other hand holding your hair up so he could watch your face, your eyes never leaving his.

His hand was there also to prevent you from taking him in deeper. Which you try to do.

"I said just the tip, baby. Be good for me, don't get greedy on me now."

So you behave. Just the tip, just enough to not let it fall on the floor.

He cums with a grunt, filling your mouth twice before being done, softly pushing you away from him.

"So pretty." He praises as you lick your lips.

Panting, he looks at you and hands you your panties. "I think you should keep it, you'll make better use of it." You say with a smirk as you get up.

"There you're right, angel. This only knows how to stay on my way. But put it back on, there's men around the house today, don't want them seeing what's not theirs."

You lift your right foot, mentioning for him to put it on you. He smiles and passes it through both your legs, caressing and squeezing your thighs as he went up.

His face, close to your pussy, watching it as his thumbs lightly part the front of your folds. He grunts and shakes his head once with a sigh and a smile, pulling your panties all the way up and kissing your clothed mount before adjusting your dress and lightly slapping your ass. "C'mon, finish what you were doing."

You do so, finishing his wardrobe and turning back at him, finding him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking out the window.

"Can you tell me your name?" You ask and he looks at you, without turning his head, just his eyes. "Why do you need to know?"

"I'd be good to put a name to my moans, so you know it's you I'm thinking about." You say with a sweet smile, and now he turns to look at you, shaking his head, smiling and grunting the same way he did while looking at your pussy. "You're the price I pay, angel. Now I get it. You're making me pay for all the things I've done in this life, making my life so fucking hard."

"You know, you could just do it. I don't understand why you think it'd be so bad." He scoffs. "I told you. Don't want your daddy, or your mommy, or your boyfriend to come over later and try to bother my people. We have women... pregnant women. And children. Don't need that right now."

The fact that he is being so true to his word, that he's really not doing anything to not harm his people, so you could go back home one day, just makes you want him even more.

How he never tried anything, how even when he was getting hard from watching you cook, you wouldn't feel bad like you felt when his men look through the window.

You liked how he looked at you. It felt different.

It all makes you wanna keep pushing him.

"You kidnapped me. Us. You think my people aren't looking for us already?" You ask.

"But I'm letting you go. Told you, if I have you, I won't want anyone else to. Will keep you here, with me. Mine." He said, a hint of pain in his voice, and you notice a volume returning to his pants, your own core burning with his words.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I don't have a mommy, or a boyfriend... Or a daddy to come after your people." You say, touching his shoulder and internally moaning — at least this one you managed to hold back — at how he stiffens under your touch.

"I just want to make you feel good." You say, that low and aroused voice back on your lips. "Want you to make me feel good too." You whisper, now running your fingers through his hair, and he closes his eyes, indulging in the gesture.

You caress his hair for a few seconds, and he hums, moving his head onto your hand for you to reach new places.

"Joel." He says with his eyes still closed. "The name you should call is Joel." You run your fingers over his hair one more time, pulling it away from his face and kissing his lips softly, holding his head from both sides.

He doesn't pull away, allowing you to touch his lips for the first time.

"The man I'll call is Joel. And I hope you listen. Hope you come when I call you. When I need you." You whisper over his lips, his eyes opening to look at you.

You let him go and walk away, his eyes following you.

✨🔥'

"Joel."

Joel was not soft.

That he wasn't.

But a pretty girl is any man's perdition.

And when your voice calling him sounded so sweet, so nice, so needy, he couldn't not come to you.

"Sounds like a fucking angel, baby." He said, standing by the door, that you convenently left open for him. You whimper when you see him, your eyes dropping to his pants.

"Don't get any ideas, though. I'm just here to watch. C'mon, take this off you." He said, walking towards you and removing the blanket you covered yourself with — knowing he'd come and remove it. Your knees are bent, so you palm yourself, closing your legs and looking into his eyes.

He sits by your feet. "Open them, baby. We both know you're not shy." But you don't, just looking into his eyes, smiling and biting your lower lip, and he laughs.

You want him to touch you.

"I see. Won't work, though." He spreads your legs, then pulls your hand away. You lift your hips, trying to brush on his hand, and he grunts, seeing you all wet and swollen, pushing your hips back down.

Knowing it's all for him, right in front of him, makes him almost fall mouth first on you, makes him want to taste you and make you cum for him.

But he knows he can't.

"It's because of you." You moan, and he shoots you a stern and scary look, his eyebrows low and his eyes dark. "For you." He swallows, sitting further from you onto your bed and opening his belt.

You mention to go to him, but he shoots you that look again.

The look that simultaneity makes you want to behave and misbehave. To be good for him so he'll praise you, and to be bad to see what he's gonna do about it.

But you know that, slowly, you're gaining him. So you sit back down and spread your legs.

"Good girl."

He pulls himself out of his boxers, already hard and wet. You lick your lips and return your circles around your clit, inserting one, then two fingers inside yourself.

He grunts and groans softly as his own movements become more desperate. His eyes never leaving your pussy.

You're dripping onto the sheets. There's a puddle forming underneath you, and he can't take his mind out of how good you must feel. How nice and tight, warm and wet you have to be.

He moans once and you retribute the sound. You fasten your circles, being as deep on him as he is on you. Thinking about how nice and painful it'd be to take him in, how thick and big he is. How much you crave to feel him twitch and pulse inside you. How rough he'd be with you, how he'd care for you after it.

That's the thing with him. You know how rough he can be, but you've also seen his softer side. You want him to heartlessly pound you, be mean to you, make you cum until you're dumb, whisper things in your ears, call you names.

And then call you his angel, tell you how good you were for him while he caress your hair until you fall asleep on his chest.

The thought makes you cum, a loud and shameless "Joel" leaving your lips, then being the only word you can put out. Calling and crying out for him, needing him.

He touches your thigh, making you look at him. Your eyes hazed, showing him how far you were, how high he took you before even touching you.

"I'm here, baby. Come here to me." He coos, and you craw until him, lowering yourself in front of his dick, his hand coming for your hair, helping it up.

He doesn't say anything about how deep you can go, so you start sucking just his tip, careful and tight, feeling his precum drip and leak into your mouth. He thrusts into your mouth and you take him in further with a moan, going as deep as you can, opening your throat to make room for him.

He grunts and you can already feel him pulsing on your tongue. "So fucking good, baby. Gonna cum in this mouth."

You moan as you taste him flood your mouth, drinking it like you haven't seen water in weeks.

You keep sucking him after he's finished, and he lets you, caressing your hair and moaning as you do so.

"You know this could end up really bad for your people, don't you, baby?" He asks, stroking your hair as you run your tongue up his length.

"I know, Joel. But I think I want to see it. Watch you keep me with you." You say right before licking around his tip like a lollipop and taking him in your mouth again. He furrows his brows, piercing his lips together.

"You have no idea what you're saying, sugar. Not something you'd like to see." He says, pulling himself out of your mouth and fixing his pants before getting up.

He gives you a light and sweet peck on the lips, grabs a towel on your bathroom and comes back to you. He opens your legs, cleaning you. "I would love to see it, Joel. Not to my people. But I'd love to see what you'd do."

You say as he kisses your forehead and walks outside your room, never turning around to look at you.

✨🔥'

Joel was not soft.

That he wasn't.

So when he spent his days thinking about you — not only wanting to come home to see you, but actually started to think about you, to wanna come home to see you — he knew he had to go away.

Your people were of great help for his people, so it still wasn't the time to let you go, but he needed distance.

So he called some of his men on a few days long run for supplies and food.

He left men watching his house. "I want one of you by this fucking door every second I'm not here. She tells me anything happened to her, anyone, any of you, fucking looked through the window and I'm killing every single one of you." You heard him tell the men.

Then he came to you, holding you on a loose embrace, removing the hair from your face. "You need anything and they get it for you, okay? Anything. Just ask. Keep the curtains closed and don't give them any smiles or looks. These men are animals, they don't know how to behave close to a pretty girl like you."

And with that he left.

For days.

Days where you called him, desperately, breathy, over and over again. Your bedroom walls tired of the name, tired of your whimpers, your moans, your cries.

"Joel, Joel... Joel."

Some days it was the only word you'd say out loud besides 'Yeah, I'm alright. Don't need anything.'

You called, but he seemed to never listen. To never feel you call, to never come back.

You just hoped he would if you actually needed him.

✨🔥'

"Joel!"

His name, always so passionate and sweet on your lips, was now a desperate cry for help. A prayer, a beg.

His men never dared to try anything with you. They'd knock on the door and you'd answer without opening it, saying you were alright and didn't need anything. But not today. Not this one.

You screamed his name as one of his men, the biggest one that he left to keep watch on you, pinned you down on your dinner table, your hands behind your back and your face painfully pressing on the wood.

"Keep screaming, bitch. He won't fucking hear you. And no one's gonna come to help you. No one's gonna fucking dare walking inside his house." He says with a laugh. "The more you scream the longer this will last."

You keep screaming, calling for help and calling for him.

Then the man let's you go, a heavy thud following.

You turn around, finding Joel. His eyebrows low and nostrils wide, his lips pierced and his hair disheveled. He's holding a thick piece of wood.

He looks at you and his eyes soften instantly, coming towards you to cup your face. "Did he hurt you?" He asked, his eyes attentively watching your face for any bruises or scratches.

"No, no he didn't. He just walked in, I... I asked him for some things and when I opened the door he— I should've waited for him to walk away before opening the door, I'm so sorry, Joel. I'm so sorry, you told me to not do it." You cried, burying your face on his chest and blaming yourself for giving the man the opportunity to invade his house.

"Don't, hey. Don't fucking say that. You could've smiled at this piece of shit, talked to him. He shouldn't have tried anything. Shouldn't fucking hurt you like this. It's not how I fucking work around here." He says, his voice and expression darkening at the end, when he hears the man grunt under him.

He carefully lets go of you, turning to the man and grabbing him by the colar of his shirt.

None of the tenderness with which he held you left on him.

"Stay away from the windows." He tells you sternly while dragging the man on the floor.

The man's twice his size. But still he pulls him out of his house like he's nothing. Anger boiling inside him, making him straddle the man on the floor, punching his face once, twice.

Again and again.

The man is screaming, pushing him, begging him to stop, trying to get way.

But he's not himself. He is an animal, he is consumed by his darker self.

The man drags himself around on the floor and he holds him in place, punching him.

His backpack and rifle still on his back.

He could just shoot the man, but that wouldn't make it.

He had to do it. With his bare hands. He wanted to feel it, to take his life away from him.

"You like screaming, don't you, son of a bitch? Wanted to hear screams? Then fucking scream!" He shouted louder than the man, the people around him just watching.

The man's body goes limp, blood pools around them and runs on the floor, but he keeps going, until there's not a man under him anymore.

Until there's not a face, not anything but a puddle of meat, bones and blood.

He gets up, his face like you've never seen before, his eyes wide, fully black, eyebrows low, nostrils widening as he breath, his mouth open and his teeth clenched. His hand hurt, blood from the man and from himself dripping from it.

"This is not how I fucking work!" He shouts, turning around to look at everyone. "And you don't fucking fuck with what's mine!" His voice coming out as a snarl. Like a feral dog, spit flying from his mouth.

Now you see it. Now you understand.

That's why his people are so lawful.

Not only because he's brutal.

But because he's brutal to protect.

The ones that don't respect or trust him, fear him. They know what he's capable of.

He killed a man twice his size with his bare hands to keep you safe.

He killed a man he probably trusted, considering he trusted you to him. All to keep you safe.

And you loved it.

You loved it and part of you wants to see it again. To see him act so brainless, to kill a man like it's nothing. All to keep you safe.

To hear him call you his.

He sees you through the window and worry invades his face, making him rush back inside. His heavy and loud footsteps sending chills down your spine.

He finds you by the window and stops on his feet. Your eyes are wide and scared, your chest raising and falling with force.

"I told you not to look out the window." He says.

This.

This is what he never wanted.

He never wanted you to see this part of him. The part he knew would push you away, would make you never want to see him again.

Would make you afraid of him.

He holds his hand up in front of him, letting go of his backpack and rifle. "I'm sorry. None of this should've happened. I shouldn't have left you here alone, with these men. This was why I kept you here, with me, so they wouldn't hurt you." He says. "I'm sorry you had to see it, I couldn't let him go any other way."

This.

This is what you wanted to see. Him feral, protective, caring for you.

Keeping you safe.

You run to his arms, climbing on him. Your lips looking for and crashing against his.

It takes him a second, but when he realizes what's happening, he groans and wraps his arms around you, holding you tight and close to him. Like he's afraid you'd snap out of it and push him away.

You lick between his lips, right where they meet, and he grunts, opening his mouth for you, taking your tongue in his and letting you explore his mouth before pushing his tongue inside your mouth and rolling it around yours. His beard scraping your cheeks, making you moan and press yourself further onto him.

Wanting to finally feel all of him.

Your arms are tugging and squeezing around his torso and his arms, sometimes pulling on his hair and earning grunts from him. His arms are pressing you against him, his heart beating against your chest. He squeezes your waist and your hips, firmly holding the back of your neck and your cheeks.

Your hands not satisfied with touching just one place at once. All the desire and hunger emerging to your surfaces.

You stay tangled like that for what feels like hours before he pulls away, out of breath, staring at you.

"I loved watching. You were so... Brutal. I loved it." You say as his eyes roam around your face.

"You don't have to do this." He whispers, giving you a final chance to step away and not regret this later. "I want this, Joel. It's all I think about. You. Called you everyday, every night, since you left. Couldn't finish sometimes without you with me. And when I did it was for you, all thinking about you." You say, snuggling your face on his neck, pressing your nose against his vein.

"I need you, Joel. Please."

He's gone.

He did his best to avoid it, to please himself with you without actually touching you. But he can't deny what he craves since he first saw you.

"You beg so nice, baby. Should make you do it more often." He says right on your ear, making you shiver and moan softly. Turning into a puddle under him.

He bites your neck, sucking and licking, your perfume guiding him, making him want to crawl under your skin, to merge his body with yours.

You're drowning on him, dazed and high, indulging on the way he holds you, grunts against your skin and how open your whole body is for him.

But when you're starting to fully get lost...

He pulls away.

"My room. C'mon." He pants, turning and pushing you towards the stairs. You giggle and run upstairs, him laughing and following close to you, his long steps enough to not let you get too far.

When you reach his bedroom, he grabs the back of your shirt, turning you around and taking you in his arms, his mouth all over your jaw, neck and collarbones. "Please, Joel. I need more of you."

"Always so impatient, baby." He says before pulling your shirt out of you and skillfully unclasping your bra. He stares at your boobs for a second, his mouth hanging open while he breaths heavily. He grabs them, kneading them and grunting. He squeezes them a bit too hard and you whimper.

He groans and takes you back in his arms, still squeezing your boobs and kissing you again.

He tastes like cheap alcohol and cigars, and you drink every drop of him like he's the thing you needed all along.

You could live off of just him. Just looking at him, just smelling him, just eating and drinking from him.

Your hand goes to his belt, but he pushes it away. "I ain't tasted you yet, baby. Not fair that you get it again." He says, pushing you on his bed.

You fall and start removing your skirt. He helps you and falls down to his knees, kissing a path from your bellybutton to your lips. "Can't wait to taste you baby. Know you taste so good for me." He whispers while kissing your throat before kissing his way back down, stopping only at your nipples to suck and roll his tongue around them.

He stops when he reaches your mount, going to your inner thighs, his hands keeping you spread, squeezing the skin of your thighs. "Always on my fucking way." He growls at your panties, roughly pulling them out of you.

Then he gets paralyzed. His gaze never leaving your pussy, his mouth open, his jaws moving from side to side.

"Joel, please." You beg and he hums against your skin. "Right here, baby. Won't go anywhere." He says right before licking a — painfully slow and strong — streak up your folds. From your entrance to where they connect at he top.

"As good as I dreamed." He licks you again, returning to your entrance and inserting his tongue on you, rolling it around inside you, making you sink yourself down on his face. "Even better, actually." He sucks on your clit, humming against your skin as you pull his hair.

"Want you to do it, baby." He says pulling away and grabbing your arms, sitting you up. He lays with his head on his pillow and beckons for you to come over, which you do, going for his belt again.

"No, baby. C'mon, up here." He says with a smile, and you move up higher, straddling his chest. "You know I could kill you like this, don't you?" You say, going higher and hovering above his face.

"Sweetest death a man could have in a world like this, angel." He breathes before pulling you down on him, practically french kissing your pussy, his tongue rolling around your entrance and your clit, going inside you and rolling around. Sucking, licking and even biting everything he could reach, his hands squeezing your ass, your hips and your thighs.

You pull his hair and roll your hips, sinking yourself, his eyes snap open to watch you as you moan and whimper, your whole body shaking as you feel your insides burn, ready to release what you craved to give him for so long.

"Joel." You moan, feeling yourself get closer and closer, and he groans as you grind yourself harder on him, swiping his nose and only pulling away to let him breath. But he quickly pulls you back down, sinking you on his tongue.

The closer you get to your orgasm, the further you go from reality. The deeper you dive on the man underneath you.

Hunger and desire marking the route of his tongue all over you, finding all your favorite spots.

He holds you down as he sucks on your clit, your hips rolling circles on his chin, his beard scratching your entrance, making you pull away.

He groans and sinks you back down, his hands squeezing your hips and keeping you steady as you cum, your insides convulsing around nothing, his eyes open, focused on your face as it contorts and your body tries to stay up.

He grunts as he dries you, sucking every drop out of you as your body twitches at how sensitive it feels.

He lets go of your hips and you collapse back on top of him, laying on top of his belly, breathing, your body going up and down as his own breath moves his chest up and down.

You feel high, like you're on a boat, his breath like the tide. You move up and down, slow and deep, swimming on him, in awe of the fact that this is actually happening.

You're actually with him.

He inserts a finger inside you and you feel his dick twitch inside his pants, against the back of your head.

"So fucking tight, baby. Gonna feel so good."

You try to flip around, wanting to taste him again, but he holds you by the knees and goes on top of you, kissing you again as you eagerly undo his belt and remove his pants.

He finishes them off and climbs back on top of you. You grab him and stroke him deep and slow, getting lost on how hard and thick he feels on your hands, whimpering just to imagine the stretch he'd need to go inside you.

"Think you're ready, baby? Waited for this for so fucking long." He says with his mouth glued to your throat, kissing and nibbing at your skin. "Please, Joel." You moan, fastening your movements on him.

He grunts, thrusting into your hand for a while, groaning as your other hand pulls on his hair.

He removes your hand from his length and guides it to your folds, running his tip through them a few times to gather some of your slick — and tease you.

"So nice, so wet for me. All for me." He pants before teasing your entrance with his tip, rolling it around it and thrusting it in slowly, your insides engulfing him. "So — grunts — fucking tight too." He smiles on your neck, and you lower yourself, trying to get more of him in.

"Joel, please." You cry, and he raises himself to looks at you. "Please what, baby? You keep saying it but you don't use your words."

"Fuck me, please. I need you inside me." You say with a smile, your voice a mix of arousal and almost pain. "Good." He smiles, kissing you, rolling his tongue around yours and pushing in, your legs spreading further apart in an attempt to make more room for him.

The air inside your lunges freezes, and you can't exhale while he's moving.

He goes all the way in, grunting at how good you feel around him. How warm, tight and wet you feel. How your arms held him tight on top of you, how your nails dug into his skin. Things he hadn't felt in forever.

Things he knew only you could give him.

Things he wanted only you to do.

"Doing so well, baby. Opening up for me like this." He praises when he bottoms out, giving you some time to adjust as you twitch and pulse around him.

You move your hips, and he corresponds the movement, slowly thrusting out before going all the way back in, setting a deliciously passionate pace. Slow and deep, making your insides move and readjuste to receive him.

You whimper when he supports himself on his hands, missing his weight on top of you. He starts moving faster, harder, even deeper somehow.

His eyes fixated on your breasts, on how they move with the force of his thrusts. "You like them?" You ask, keeping your voice sweet and low, and he looks at you through his lashes, his low eyebrows and his smile making his expression almost sinister.

It makes you go back to when he was on top of that man. To remember how feral he was, how violent and visceral he was. How much you want him to use that on you, to fuck you with as much voracity as he killed the man.

Thinking about it makes your pussy clench around him. Makes your eyes falter and your heart to pound faster against your ribs.

You wrap your arms around his neck, lifting yourself and holding onto him, his strong arms keeping both of you away from the mattress. You bite his neck, his pulsing vein too welcoming to deny.

"I loved watching, Joel. How you did it, how you did it with your hands. I fucking loved it." He grunts, his own orgasm feeling just a thrust away. "Being inside you makes me want to go back there and fucking kill him again, baby. You feel so good, he'd have hurt you and I don't know what I'd do if I let that happen."

You moan, his thrusts getting harder and sloppier. "But you did, Joel. You kept me safe, like you said you would. I loved it." You say between moans, the burn on your core about to snap. You reach for your clit and draw fast circles around it, almost immediately cumming around him, squeezing and almost expelling him out of you.

He grunts, your pussy milking him, making his orgasm hit him hard, probably harder than ever.

He fucks his cum inside you, rough and deep, as you fall back on the mattress and become a puddle underneath him. He holds your knees up, going even deeper and making you scream his name, the tip of his dick hitting that perfect spot inside you, making your eyes close shut and your mouth hang open.

His pace is anything but tender now. He's fully lost on how good you feel, how much he thought about you, how good it feels to finally give in, to finally be inside you, to finally claim you as his.

Another orgasm crashes over you, his name falling from your lips in a way that shows he's the first one to make you feel this, to make you feel this much. In a way that shows that he's the only one you'll ever think about, the only one you'll ever need and crave after this.

When you manage to open your eyes, you find his stare on you. His nostrils wide, his eyes dark and passionate, his teeth clenched and his neck looking like it would burst.

"Joel." You cry. "Right here, baby. Looking so pretty all dumb like this for me, just saying my name, calling me like I'm ever gonna leave your — grunts — fucking side again." He says, your belly fluttering with his words.

He flips you both around, laying on his back and holding you on top of him, your body doing it's best to not collapse over him.

"C'mon, ride it, baby. Want to see you." His words fuelling your muscles, making you roll your hips around him, gathering the conscience to move up and down.

You support yourself on his shoulders, his muscles flexing as you squeeze them. You moan when he pulls you down into a kiss, one of his hands on your hips and the other going from the back of your neck to your clit, drawing overwhelming circles around you.

"Joel, I can't." You cry out when your clit throbs on his fingers. "Course you can, angel. Do it for me, c'mon, give me another one." He asks, and you focus on him, on his muscles, his face, the way he fills you, the way his rough fingers work you, the way his hands is hurt from what he did, the way he brutally punched the man, the way he yelled, called you his.

You feel your orgasm approaching again, and your body starts to give in. But as soon as it hits you and your body softens, one of his hands leaves your hips and come for your throat, squeezing tight. Your eyes snap open, your hands holding onto his forearm.

"Joel." You whine.

"Just holding you up, baby. Just keeping you steady." He says with a smirk, your insides convulsing around him, trying to hold onto him, as if to never let him go.

It hugs him so nice, so deep and so tight, he can't help but allow his own new orgasm to hit him. He maintains his hand around your throat, but his body jerks up, and he pulls you down enough to kiss you.

He grunts as his tongue rolls around yours, his lips sucking yours, his beard burning your face.

A burn you already love.

His thrusts get rougher, deeper and faster as he empties himself inside you again, grunts and groans leaving his throat as you feel him twitch inside you.

He lets go of your neck and you fall on top of him, breathing and praying that this isn't just one of the dreams you've had with him. Praying that he's here, underneath you, still inside you, holding you around his arms, his warmth comforting your exhausted body.

You snuggle your nose on his collarbones, right on the middle of his pecks, and he strokes your hair.

"As bad as you thought?" You ask with a laugh. "Fucking devastating, baby. Don't even want to get out of you." He replies with a smile, and you clench around him, so he knows you're in no hurry to be empty again.

"Mine. My good girl, gonna be all mine. Can't wait to always find you home. Won't ever let you go." You smile, you don't wanna go anywhere.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be, Joel. No one else I'd rather be with." You confess, your head buried on his neck. "No one would keep me safe like you."

"Would do anything to keep you with me, baby. Anything." He says, hugging you tighter.

You hope so.

You're counting on it.

🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨

So... Did you like it? Writing the last sex scene was so hard, it always felt like there was something missing to it. But at end I was happy with it.

Let me know what you think, I'd love to hear your feedback 💖

💌

@https-hann 🫶🏻

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