#this is not beta read!!
Text
Source of pleasure
1.094 words · Rating: Explicit +18 · Halsin x Astarion x reader · AO3
Tags: threesome, unprotected P in V! (remember: wrap it before you tap it!), coming inside, creampie, dirty talk, chubby reader, they/them pronouns for gnc-reader, laughing while fucking, polyamory
(Oh noo, the filthy smut I imagined in my head turned into ✨love making✨as soon as I was writing it down… Whoopsie)
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“You’re doing amazing, darling.”
Astarion purred, grazing his lips down your neck and sucking into the soft flesh. He was seated behind you on the bed, his chest against your back, whispering sultry things into your ear. His hands were now on your plump tits, kneading them, teasing your nipples mercilessly, making you moan unrestrained.
Halsin was kneeling in front of you, two fingers working you open, his thumb pressing lightly on your sensitive clit. The druid presented such a gorgeous sight before you, all big and broad and a beautiful hairy chest to die for. His hard cock stood proudly between his legs. The bulbous pink head and thick shaft making your mouth water, you wanted him inside so badly.
“Look how big he is, how he's throbbing for you.” Astarion’s low voice was sending shivers down your spine.
Halsin watched your face closely for any sign of discomfort, he wanted to make absolutely sure that you were ready for him. You moaned, encouraged by Astarion’s words and eager for Halsin to finally give you what you wanted most…
Astarion wasn’t unaffected by all of this. You felt his hardness against your lower back. He was straining against his pants. You tried to turn around to get your hands on him, you didn’t want him to be left out, but he stopped you mid way.
“Ah-ah-ah, this is just for you, darling”, he pulled you snug against his chest and continued kissing your neck. “Let us take care of you, hmm?”
Halsin bent down to cup your cheek with his other hand. He captured your mouth in a gentle kiss, grazing over your lips in languid motions. He was always so careful with you as if you’d break under his big hands. You felt so small with him hovering over you.
You loved the way he made love to you. You always felt so secure and protected with him. But right now with Astarion teasing you, finding your sensitive spots and Halsin’s big fingers exploring the depths of your warm, wet cunt, you were close to your limit.
“Please, Halsin…” you whined impatiently.
“Don’t make them wait any longer”, Astarion chimed in while roaming his hands over your round belly and your alluring tits.
Halsin smiled, “I hear you.” He stole another heated kiss and then he positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, making you gasp. “Don’t worry, you’ll get what you desire, sweetheart.”
Fetching and opening the small vial of lubricant, he let a few drops dribble onto your vulva, smearing it into your cunt with the head of his cock.
You and Astarion both made a lewd noise in unison while watching. Astarion’s hands wandered downwards and spread your labia open to watch Halsin nudge his cock inside. Cautiously, he fed you inch for inch of his hard length, making you gasp at the stretch.
Once Halsin was seated inside you, Astarion spoke up once again, voice heavy with lust. “You take him so well, every inch of him…”
”By the oak father, you feel incredible", Halsin agreed with a low grunt that went straight to your swelling cunt. He caressed your thighs and the soft flesh at your waist as he waited for you to get accustomed to his thick shaft.
“Do you feel generously stuffed, darling? Does he fill you up nicely?” Astarion purred close to your ear while he watched.
“Yes… “ You moaned in response. You closed your eyes and threw your head back onto Astarion’s shoulder.
Halsin bent down to pull Astarion into a filthy kiss. Astarion made a surprised yelp that turned into a needy whimper as Halsin devoured his lips hungrily.
He smirked when he broke the kiss, gazing deeply into Astarion’s eyes. “Let’s make sure they’ll never forget this.”
Astarion stared at him and you could feel his erection growing harder against your back. He adored the druid as much as you did and you felt it. “Sounds like a plan”, he whispered seductively.
Halsin grabbed your waist and started fucking you with slow, languid thrusts while Astarion had one hand on your breast and one on your clit, massaging it just the way you liked it.
Halsin looked gorgeous above you. His tanned skin was glistening with sweat, his stomach flexed as he plowed into you, making your tummy and your tits jiggle with every thrust.
Being loved by these two beautiful creatures was like something out of a wonderful dream. Watching Halsin’s adoring expression while he was fucking you, feeling Astarion’s gentle, experienced touch on your hot skin, all of it made your heart race and you couldn’t get enough. You whined desperately as Halsin picked up the pace.
“Fuuuuck…” Halsin grunted.
“Listen, darling, you reduced our handsome druid to profanities, well done!” Astarion chuckled.
You let out a hoarse laugh, but Halsin’s hard thrusts stifled your laughter. You watched his length disappear inside you over and over again, while listening to the lewd sounds and moans that filled the room.
Halsin pounded into you mercilessly, Astarion rubbed your clit harder and suddenly your orgasm hit you with such brutal force and you cried out when deep hot pleasure washed over you and through your body for several seconds.
“Sweetheart, I’m close, where–” Halsin began, unable to finish his sentence, trying so hard to hold it in.
Astarion noticed you were distracted from your orgasm. “Do you want him to come inside you, baby, hmm?” He asked while he was fondling your tits and grinding against your back, chasing his own release.
“Yes, please…” You whimpered.
Halsin was panting above you and with a few more erratic thrusts, he spilled his big load inside you. At the same time, you felt Astarion’s trembling motions coming to a halt as he burst in his pants with a rough grunt.
You made a pleased hum when Halsin pulled out carefully and you watched his cum leaking out of you and onto the sheets.
After all three of you had cleaned up, you got back into bed, with you in the middle, Halsin spooning you from behind and Astarion on the other side, facing you. He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead and whispered sweetly: “Hmm, thank you, darling, that was wonderful.”
“My heart, you are so loved…” Halsin peppered your cheeks and your neck with little kisses while he snuggled his big body against yours.
“You make me so happy, both of you.” you murmured as you slowly drifted off to sleep, safe and warm between your two lovers.
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MDNI divider by @cafekitsune here
tag list: not sure who to tag here, since it's my first fanfic for this fandom, so I'm just gonna tag the ones that agreed to be tagged in everything and some others who are in the fandom and read smut...
@starlady66 @fenharel-enaste @queenmeriadoc @elronds-pointy-ears @corrodedbisexual @lady-of-imladris @aiwe-the-little-bird
#halsin x reader#astarion x reader#halsin x astarion x reader#astarion x halsin x reader#this is not beta read!!#smut fanfic#self insert fanfic#reader fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#halsin smut#astarion smut#astarion x you#astarion fic#astarion fanfic#astarion fanfiction#halsin x you#halsin fanfic#Halsin#Astarion
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Disclaimer these are just a small sampling of some possible writer traits I’ve noticed either in myself or in fics I read. Also consider a rb for sample size !
#I literally do all of these but mostly abuse of metaphor and specific descriptors and run on dialogue with no staging#writing#writers on tumblr#polls#I chose abuse of a metaphor you like because I think that’s probably my biggest#but also literally ‘you guys are getting beta readers?’ because I’ve NEVER ONCE had someone beta read for me#I like. proofread. sometimes#if you’re lucky#lol#but I’m curious what you guys do lol
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME#there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing#and the writing is what i need to be doing#writeblr#this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to#edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol#i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means#i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong#i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse#i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO#i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness#and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it#im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us#i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer#and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work#even if it means being miserable#but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.
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Jason Todd can kill a man with his bare hands, but with you, they're as delicate as possible, like you're a porcelain doll, able to crack at the slightest touch.
His fingers hover over your skin, a light as a feather you would think you were imagining things. He's cautious, carful, thoughtful.
Everything else in his life has broke. Even him. But not you, never you. You can't. You're untouched. Perfect, never to do wrong. He worshipped you like a goddess, like you created heaven and earth.
And you did.
You created his earth. His world. You were his heaven. When he died, he swore he saw you. You were his everything, his reason, his purpose, his love, his hope.
He was so in love it hurt. Every look shared between you, his mind swirled with possibilities. He couldn't live if something happened to you because of him. He couldn't live without his world.
It was an odd place to be stuck in. Scared of staying, scared of leaving. He kept his distance. Touches were never long. Lips ghost against yours. It's like he's never fully there. Every night, the cold side that was suppose to be his haunted you.
It's hard to love a ghost. It's like being in love with a figment of your imagination. You find yourself questioning if he's even real. Every time he comes home, he proves to you that he is.
That brought upon its own set of questions, heart crying out for more of what it was deprived. Were you not enough reason to stay? Were you not enough? Was he yours like you were his?
You felt like the moon, forever revolving around the Earth, compelled to, even. Always at a safe distance, longing for more. That is, until one night.
He comes home, smashing his helmet to the wall. The landlord won't like that, but a problem for another day. Without thinking he crashes into your arms, head buried into your chest.
The Earth crashed into the moon. Hell will follow, you both knew that. But it didn't matter. You had him. He had you. that was enough.
#storm speaks ⛈#storm shorts ☁️#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd angst#jason todd fluff#jason todd headcanon#Jason Todd x reader#jason todd x you#red hood#red hood x reader#started as fluff then I kept going#dc x reader#dc comics#dc comics x reader#this is not edited or beta-read dont come for me 😭
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Cold Love/Hot Blood
Miguel O’Hara x female reader
Summary: “Between teeth on a broken jaw/following a bloodtrail, frothing at the maw”
Miguel is struck with something that he’s never experienced before
Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, dubcon by way of pheromones, fingering, overstimulation, squirting, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, feral Miguel, biting, marking, blood drinking, paralytic venom
Wordcount: 3k
Ao3 link here
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You opened your eyes, blinking at the soft light from the bleary haze. Wincing, you raised your hand to your head. It didn't necessarily hurt, but it definitely felt wrong. What had happened? You were on a mission. That's right. And it had been going so well, until… until the anomaly villain threw something at you and Miguel. What was it? It had such an awful smell to it. And, where was Miguel?
You traversed the rubble of the abandoned building you were in. You couldn't see him. You shouted out for him.
"Here, I'm here," you heard him from the distance. Following his voice, you found him under some pieces of sheetrock from a collapsed wall. He was pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask.
"Geez, Miguel, are you alright?"
"Been better." His voice sounded strained. "Got a transmission from Jess that she's got hands on the anomaly. We'll meet her back at HQ. You go on ahead of me."
"What? No, we have to-" you started grabbing at the rubble to pull it off of him. He caught your arm before you could keep lifting.
"Please," he said, trying to meet your eyes from behind his mask. "Just go."
"What the hell is going on, Miguel? You're not… you're not acting right. We have to get you out of here."
He brought his hands up, holding his head in frustration. "Please, just do it. Don't make me beg."
"LYLA, please check him," you said, the avatar popping up and saluting you.
"No, don't-!" He tried to catch her in the air but she evaded him.
"His heart rate is really elevated but he seems okay otherwise. I think he's being dramatic. I don't detect any major injuries," she reported. You thanked her and she disappeared.
You crouched down to where he was. "What's going on, Miguel?" Your tone was serious.
He tried to hold your gaze for a moment until he swore and looked away. "That bomb that the anomaly threw… it affected me in a way that it clearly didn't affect anyone else, alright? Are you happy now?"
You furrowed your brow. "I don't understand."
He sighed, his breath shaking ever so slightly. "Itwasapheromonebomb." He said it so quickly and quietly.
"...What?"
"It was a pheromone bomb. Just leave me here so I can wait it out. This is so shocking humiliating- I," he sighed again. "Don't make me explain any further."
You blushed, not sure what to say. But you couldn't leave him like that, half-buried and vulnerable. "Can I at least help you up…? I promise I won't make fun of you. I just can't leave you defenseless like this."
He seethed for a moment, considering your offer. "...Fine. Grab this stupid sheetrock."
You did so, lifting it off of him with some effort. He did his best to stand up quickly. Despite his best, though, you could see the source of his embarrassment. He had a rock hard erection, and a particularly desperate one, by the looks of it. It laid upward, reaching towards his abdomen and pushing up against the tight fabric of his suit, straining. The size of him was nothing short of impressive.
You turned your gaze pointedly towards the ground as he moved away from the pile of rubble. Don't react don't react don't react. Could you pretend like you didn't notice? Even though not noticing was impossible, even from a single glance? You swallowed a lump in your throat, your head swimming with unprofessional thoughts.
Miguel turned from you, crouching down, hissing out a slow breath. "Fuck, it's getting worse," he whispered to himself, his body starting to tremble.
You took a step closer, reaching a hand out to his shoulder.
"Your proximity isn't… isn't helping." He admitted without turning around.
You stopped, silently moving your hand away from him. Touching him would surely make things harder.
"Miguel, I don't think waiting it out is an option for you. You just said it was getting worse."
He swore under his breath to himself. "I didn't mean for you to hear that. This is- shock it- this is completely foreign to me. Never been hit by anything like this before, it's s-so intense."
You winced at that, you'd never heard his voice so pained. But, what was the other option? You shivered just to think about it, your body reacting in ways that surprised you. How could you possibly propose helping him without making him think less of you? Would he even want help from you? Across from you, he was in turmoil, on his hands and knees trying desperately to control his breathing.
“Miguel… how can I help you?” It was a foolish question, a loaded question.
“You know the answer,” he replied from over his shoulder, his tone cold. He cried out again. “I- I can’t- can’t do that to you.”
“What if I’m offering?” You asked, a little too quickly, pushing down your fear and embarrassment for even thinking such things.
He turned further to meet your eyes, though you still couldn’t see his from behind the mask. You didn’t even need to see his eyes, his body language was communicating perfectly on their behalf. His muscles were pent up and quivering. Every breath rocked his massive shoulders. “Why?”
You didn’t think he’d ask that question. You searched your brain for an answer. “Because it isn’t your fault. And I respect you enough that this won’t change my mind.”
His thoughts seemed to be diverting to his baser instincts, his voice becoming a growl. “Need you… to be sure. Don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”
“I’m sure,” you said.
In no time at all, he pounced, bringing you to the ground. He was on top of you, his taloned fingers caging in your wrists against the cracked concrete of the floor, your arms above your head. You landed with your legs apart and with him between them, his hips desperately close to yours. Your eyes widened at his feral energy, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. He brought his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling. His exhale was shaky. “You smell so good… always smelled so good.”
Your body grew hot upon hearing that. Always? Had he thought about you in that way before? You smiled to yourself as he nuzzled the nose of his masked face into your neck, his hot breath coming through and ghosting over your skin. You could feel his huge frame shaking around you. He brought his hips down to your pelvis, seemingly being as cautious as possible as he began to grind his hardened length against you. His breath quickened at the contact, and he met you again with fervor, stimulating himself on you. His cock was unbelievably hard and hot, the temperature of him coming through both of your suits to meet your skin and overwhelm you. The feeling of him against you was sending shivers down your spine, the pleasant pressure made even sweeter by the promise of more to come. He positioned himself on top of you in such a way that each rhythmic, grinding rock found your clit and teased it with clothed contact.
You moaned lightly, the sound of it causing him to growl into your neck. You lifted your hips up, meeting him with the same tempo so he could grind into you more thoroughly, your bodies now writhing in tandem. His heavy breathing became panting. "Need to… need to touch you." He picked up his head and released your wrists, one hand steadying himself on the concrete, the other reaching down eagerly.
You got the memo, quickly slipping the pants of your suit down and throwing them aside so he wouldn't rip them off for you. You had at least enough hindsight to know you couldn't go back to HQ looking so disheveled. He dismissed the gloves of his suit and retracted his talons as his fingers found you immediately, honing in on the wet heat of your sex. Two plunged inside as he loomed above you, his muscles shaking again as he wet his fingers with your arousal. You shook right alongside him, your reaction bodily, as your back arched and your legs closed instinctively to hold his hand in place and not let him go. His fingers hooked inside of you, already relentless.
"Soaked," he whispered, almost to himself. The word resonated with a deep, animalistic hunger. Without removing his fingers from your warmth, he sat back on his knees and used his free hand to pry your legs open. "Need to see," he said. He watched the length of his fingers disappear over and over. The large hand that kept your legs wide was squeezing the soft flesh of your inner thigh, and he seemed fixated on the way it was yielding to his rough touches. Nearly everyone was small compared to Miguel, but you… you were different. He had his hands on you, inside of you, the comparison was tangible. You were small, soft, and his. His mind swam with how he would take you, how he would sheath himself inside of you until he bottomed out, how he would desperately fill you with his hot cum and hold your hips up to keep any precious drops from leaking out. It took everything in him to not reach down and start rubbing his impatient cock through his suit, but his fevered brain convinced him to keep his free hand on your leg so he could watch you fall apart from his fingers alone.
He was delirious as your walls started to spasm around his fingers, white hot pleasure pooling in your core, threatening to overflow as he kept up his efforts. The constriction of your muscles bolstered him, and he began to go faster and harder, starting to overstimulate you. You threw your head back, hands wildly trying to grasp at something on the concrete floor but coming up short. He removed his hand from your throbbing sex to start teasing your clit with abandon, and you moaned as your body lifted up off the floor.
"H-holy shit, Miguel," you gasped out. "It's- it's so much."
His hand moved so fast against your swollen clit that you could hardly think. The feeling was electric, and your orgasm was dangerously close. Your legs started to shake and tried to close around him again, but he kept them forced open as he intently watched, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. You came and it utterly racked you, your body shuddering as you cried out, hot liquid spewing from you and drenching Miguel's hand and forearm. You squirted on him, because of him. You thought you should be embarrassed, but he gave you no opportunity.
As your head just started to clear, he recalled his mask into the neck of his suit. You quietly gasped at unexpectedly seeing his face. So strong, angular, and handsome. His red eyes looked wild, his mouth was open, his fangs fully extended. He studied his hand, turning it over so the mess you made could catch the light. As it started to dry down on him, he brought the two fingers that had been inside of you up to his mouth, and he licked them both clean. You gaped at him, almost fully unable to process what was happening.
When he was finished, he turned his gaze from his fingers and back onto you, as you sat up on your elbows to watch him. You saw that his cock was still as hard as ever, still pushing to break free. As if reading your mind, he recalled that part of his suit too as he grabbed your legs and yanked you toward him. He rested his cock over your abdomen, once again reveling in just how much bigger than you he was. The hot weight of his manhood on your skin set you ablaze once more and you eagerly awaited him. He thrusted but without penetrating you, sliding himself over you and wetting his cock on your cum. His exhales quaked with anticipation until he could wait no longer. Even on his knees, he towered over you, and so he needed to tilt your hips up further so your entrance could meet the head of his leaking cock. He shifted his grip to your waist, holding firm as you steadied yourself on your elbows and looked to him with bated breath.
He slowly pushed his hips into you, his cock sinking deep into your pussy. The steady penetration had you reeling. You needed to feel him, all of him. Every inch, all at once. It felt like it took ages for him to finally reach the hilt, but when he did, he waited inside of you for a brief, merciful moment. You basked in the feeling of being so full, so complete. He began to pull himself out of you, leaving you cold and empty for a split second until he slammed his entire length back into you, repeating and repeating at an unwavering pace.
Each powerful thrust reached so deep inside of you that it was nearly painful. Immediately, the head of his cock found your cervix and was hitting it with each hard pump that Miguel delivered. Your eyelids grew heavy as your eyes began to roll back towards your skull. His onslaught was so thorough, every smack of his hips against your pelvis reverberating through every inch of your body. The overstimulation of when he fingerfucked you had carried over, and you were already close to losing control all over again. He felt it too, as he growled in response to your pulsating walls.
"This cunt…." He snarled through his fangs. "This cunt is mine."
"Yours," you moaned, meeting his words a little too quickly.
"Going to mark you… so everyone knows."
"Mark me, Miguel." You agreed, not quite realizing what he meant. He started to lay you down onto the ground without removing himself from you, continuing to fuck you in missionary as he brought his face down to the crook of your neck. Your pulse quickened with excitement. He opened his mouth, his breath making your skin somehow even warmer. You wished that you could've seen the flash of his fangs before what came next.
He bit down on you, hard, and you could feel the course of his venom like molten lava through your veins. When the searing heat reached its crest, a soothing wash of warmth followed in its wake, leaving your muscles loosened and relaxed. Blood started to drip down your shoulder, the wet trickle quickly cooling as it made contact with the atmosphere. Miguel stayed latched to you as his tongue met your skin, lapping at the red stream, determined to consume it all.
You submitted to him fully, allowing him to position you how he saw fit so he could fulfill his feral need. His strong hands snaked around your torso to your back, lifting you up with him as he rocked back onto his knees. He helped you to swing your legs around his slim waist and to drape your arms over his huge shoulders. You let your face settle against his neck, the clean musky smell of him overwhelming your senses. His hands found your hips and he effortlessly lifted you up and down on his cock, fucking himself with your pussy like you weighed nothing at all. You moaned into him as you clenched around his cock, your limp body succumbing to the overpowering feeling of him. You started to shudder as your orgasm claimed you with a white-knuckled grip. You whined into Miguel's neck as it hit you with shock after shock, your vision going spotty while your cunt tightened around him.
He couldn't hold it any longer, and his cock jerked inside of you as he came. You were still getting hit with aftershocks of your own climax, your muscles bearing down to milk every drop of cum that he filled you with. He held you closer and he thrusted himself as far into you as he possibly could, instinctively trying to make sure as little seed would have the chance to leak out of you as possible.
Your muscle control started to slowly come back to you as you and Miguel were chest-to-chest, both of you sweating and heaving. You weakly raised your arms so your hands could tangle with the hair at the nape of his neck. You lingered there for a bit, his strong arms holding you in the place as you played with soft locks of chocolate hair. You finally leaned back to see clarity slowly returning to Miguel's expression, and he looked utterly mortified. He held your gaze as he turned red, removing one hand from your body so he could cover his face.
"Oh my God," he whispered. "What the shock came over me?"
You were struck with sudden fear. "Do you… not remember?" The fact that he was still buried inside you should've been a dead giveaway.
"No, I do," he said, nervously. "I remember getting hit with that stupid bomb, and you helping me, then me wanting to split you in half."
You couldn't help but giggle at that.
"I tried to make sure I wasn't too rough with you. I was still in there, the whole time," he said, taking his hand away from his face to smooth your hair. He stopped when he reached your neck, seeing the bite marks he left. "Guess I didn't do all that well, did I?"
"It's fine. I can take it."
"Clearly," he said, raising his eyebrows, mildly impressed. "Thank you. I… don't know what I would have gone through if you hadn't been so… generous. But… for God’s sake, let’s not go around telling people what happened. We have reputations.”
You agreed, the secret safe between the two of you, the puncture wounds on your neck a silent souvenir.
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara#smut#my writing#not beta read#this one was for me tbqh#i didn't really know how to end it so pls be nice to me#but dear god read the warnings on this one#also another sleep token reference? on my fics?? it's more likely than you think#im nervous to post this one ahhhhhhh
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Hii! Saw your request for requests. Can we have something with Reader meeting a driver unexpectedly while shopping it partying or working out, whatever and neither one realises the other is a celebrity until they mention it to their friends or coworkers
who…? (OP81 x gn!Reader)
you meet oscar while shopping for clothes, neither of you recognise each other, much to the dismay of your friends.
w/c: 936
a/n: hi! if you want any other driver please dont be afraid to ask!!! (masterlist)
TW: cluelessness, a few uses of y/n (and one use of y/n_l/n)
Your fingers glide through the row of neatly hung shirts. You stay focused on the shirts, not really caring about anyone else in your surroundings.
As your sights land on a black graphic tee, you place one hand on the shirt and abruptly stop in your tracks. Before anything else can happen, someone walks directly into you, causing you to stumble back.
You curse under your breath but look up and sheepishly apologise to the man.
“Sorry-” He says first, with a thick Australian accent no one could miss.
With one hand still on the graphic tee, you nod subtly and apologise.
The man’s eyes are glued on the shirt which you have your hands on.
One of his hands slides up to the back of his neck as he rubs it, clearly thinking about something.
“Sorry, did you want this shirt?” You ask, to which the man nods.
“Yea- but I mean if you were planning on getting it…” His words slowly descend into just a mumble of sounds.
“It’s just that it has my name on it and I thought it was pretty cool.” The man points to the giant words on the shirt.
“Oscar?” You raise an eyebrow and the man nods rather violently.
“Yea, my name’s Oscar. Piastri. Oscar Piastri, so yea, pretty cool shirt.”
You shrug and hand him the shirt, “Well, you can take it, not like it says y/n or anything…”
“That’s my name.” You clarify and Oscar nods in response.
Oscar takes the shirt from you and smiles, “Thanks.”
“No problem, have a good day.” You smile as he walks off.
The interaction is clearly not something you were expecting but you continue on your day, picking out another shirt before heading off.
—
“So… anything interesting happen?” Your friend says, leaning back on their chair.
“Yea, I had a weird thing happen at the thrift store.” You say.
“Spill.”
“I was looking at this shirt and then this guy bumped into me and asked me if he could have the shirt since it had his name on it.” You recount.
“What was his name?”
“Oscar. Piastri, or something like that.” You draw random shapes in the air as you speak.
Your friend chokes on her water, almost spitting it onto you.
“Oscar Piastri?”
“Yea, I didn’t know-”
“You met Oscar Piastri?”
“Yes… am I supposed to know him?”
Your friend is exasperated, “And you didn’t like… take a photo or anything?”
“I mean, he didn’t really ask for it, would’ve been pretty weird…”
“THE OSCAR PIASTRI!?”
—
“THE Y/N!” Lando’s jaw is almost on the floor.
“I mean… yes?” Oscar’s shoulders slowly shrug up.
“AND YOU DIDN’T TAKE A PHOTO OR ANYTHING?” Lando screeches with the decibel levels capable of deafening someone.
“Well- it would’ve been weird to just… say that.” Oscar tries to justify.
“THE Y/N? FOURTEEN TIME GRAMMY WINNER?” Lando violently shakes Oscar, “AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN LIKE-”
Lando sighs loudly, clearly unable to form any more coherent sentences.
—
“OSCAR PIASTRI? F1 ROOKIE OF THE YEAR? THE GUY WHO WON THE QATAR SPRINT LAST YEAR? PROBABLY THE BEST F1 ROOKIE?”
Your friend is almost shouting in incoherent sentences.
You cover your ears, “Okay! Chill- I’ll google him or something…”
You take out your phone and google the name ‘Oscar Piastri’. The search results tell you all you need to know about Oscar Piastri.
“Okay… wow, so my bad on that-” You chuckle awkwardly, “I mean, he was pretty nice.”
“You BETTER somehow, someway get a photo with him!” Your friend grabs your shoulders and shakes you.
“Okay, okay!” You raise your hands in surrender.
Your friend goes to refill her cup of water which leaves you alone, pondering.
Oscar Piastri. He seemed pretty tame, and pretty sweet. Your interaction with him made you feel… an odd sense of comfort, not being begged for photos when all you wanted was to buy clothes.
It was the first time in a while and you kinda liked it.
You take a selfie, and post it to your story.
Your fingers hover over the keyboard.
When you meet THE Oscar Piastri and don’t realise until an hour later.
You chuckle at your own joke.
ps. nice shirt.
You smile, content with yourself as you post the story, turning off your phone and putting it on the table.
—
Lando shoves the phone in Oscar’s face.
“LOOK!” Lando shrieks.
“The y/n knows you exist!” Lando cheers.
“You better fix this, or maybe I’ll NEVER get a photo with ‘em EVER!” Lando shouts into Oscar’s ear.
Oscar rubs his temples and sighs, “Alright, alright Lando.”
He searches your name on instagram, following you before opening your story and liking it.
He sends a message your way by replying to the story.
oscarpiastri: Hi :)
He doesn’t really know what else to say.
You hesitate to respond, you think hard about what to say back. You don’t even know what you’re worried about.
y/n_l/n: hello mr oscar piastri.
—
A few months pass and you find yourself standing in a paddock belonging to McLaren.
“Hello 14-time Grammy Winner.” You hear a voice come from behind.
You have to admit, F1 wasn’t something you thought you’d be interested in, yet here you were, with the help of your friend.
“Hello Mr Piastri.” You say and smile when you see him wearing the shirt.
“Guess we should formally introduce ourselves?” He chuckles and you nod.
You clear your throat, “Can I get a photo, Mr Piastri, I’m a huge fan.”
Oscar laughs and pats your shoulder.
“May I get a photo with you?”
#formula 1#f1#formula one#f1 fandom#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#oscar piastri#op81#f1 imagine#f1 x male reader#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#y/n#f1 x gn reader#mclaren#not beta read#not proofread#f1 fanfiction#f1blr#you are taylor swift#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#op81 x reader#op81 imagine#op81 fic
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pearly tears
rafayel x reader / mc | 384 words | hurt/comfort
after rafayel wakes up from a nightmare, he cant find MC
His hand felt heavy, rapidly moving against the weight of the water. Fighting an invisible force. For what? He wasn't sure. He just felt a sharp pain and anguish in his chest as he went against the tide.
Then he saw her. Slowly descending into the depths of the sea. Her eyes closed, mouth open. He reached out to her, she was almost in his hold when his vision was covered by sea foam.
Rafayel jolted awake. Sweat dripping from his forehead as he took in his surroundings. Right. He wasn't in the water, he was in his bedroom. The covers were sticking to him, a bit of the moon light creeping in from the courtains and his beloved was sleeping right next to him. He turned to see her.
Only to find an empty space.
The artist's breath quickened, his hand gripping the sheets that were supposed to be enveloping her. He looked around rapidly, searching for her. It was hard to tell what was going on now, his senses heightened yet he felt numb. His eyes observing but his vision was clouded. He didnt hear the bathroom door open.
Suddenly arms wrapped around him, holding him tight.
"Im here"
He turned around, cupping her cheecks in his hands to make sure she was real. His love wasn't dead. She was there. Rafayel burst into tears while she leaned into his touch. Her hand made its way to wipe them away as her facial expression changed to one of wonder.
"You cry pearls, how lovely"
Everytime she spoke it felt as if he was in a trance, her gentle voice a contrast to his desperate and anxious demeanor. But the comment only made him cry harder, the pearls growing in size. Quickly, the bed was covered in the shiny and soft object. The sound of them rolling off and hitting the floor was all that could be heard apart from the man's sobs.
Slowly, with her affection he started to calm down. Slim hands playing with his hair as soft lips kissed his jawline.
He moved to her lap, head in the crook of her neck as his arms tightened around her. The pearls had stopped flowing.
"Please... dont leave me..."
She smiled as she patted his back.
"Wouldnt even dream of it"
#rafayel x reader#love & deepspace#love and deepspace#rafayel#otome#hurt/comfort#siren rafayel my beloved#cross posted on ao3#i havent written fanfics in like 3 years#not beta read we die like caleb
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#was just thinking about it and was like huh#also YES i KNOW hes a vegetarian in canon but I'm counting the books as fanon/memory beta#star trek#spirk#tricorder readings show
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Ready To Try ?
#sissi slave#sissy ferminization#submisive sissy#sissifeminine#sissi femboi#feminine sissy#sissy domination#reading#beta slave#bd/sm slave#humilated slave#femboii#faggot sissy#sissy tasks
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read Living With a Tiger by x_los !
#ty jacks pyrzqxyl for betaing my comicmaking#sorry to drop you guys in the middle of the scene but i just really love the dialogue here#i beg you to go read this fic#watched a lot of melts' bingqiu wedding extra storyboard and jo and laurie's proposal scene from the 2019 little women while working on thi#also--it occurred to me while rereading living with a tiger#that bingge and shen qingqiu are the only two characters who have seen the entirety of the other's story (discounting airplane)#shen qingqiu read all of PIDW and bingge watched all of sqq's memories#so even though their actual interactions are limited to that day#sqq has been insane about binghe/bingge this whole time#and bingge has a lifetime to be insane about sqq#it really makes you think#it makes you want to turn into a void of nothingness#cheers to xlos' writing the gift that keeps giving#living with a tiger#svsss#scum villain#bingqiu#binggeqiu#shen qingqiu#sqq#luo binghe#lbh#luo bingge#long post
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Sugar on the Cream!
Alastor x Reader
Synopsis: Alastor found out about your powers and decided to take matters into his own hands to reestablish who's in charge at this hotel and that he was perfectly capable of destroying you. A warning to not try any funny business, though who's to say he didn't find the threat of you being more powerful absolutely enticing.
Themes: +18, Slight Dubious Consent, Bondage, Breeding Kink, A/B/O Dynamics, Dominant Alpha Alastor, Alastor feeling threatened, Reader with Deal Breaking ability, AFAB Chubby Reader, G/N Omega Reader, Black Bear Reader, Cervix Penetration, Stomach Bulge, Knotting
Word Count: 4,195
A/N: Not beta read!! Also, I know Alastor is canonically aro/ace. As someone who is aro/ace, I enjoy the representation. This is fiction for funsies. Being aro/ace doesn't mean you can't have sexual relations or romantic ones. Respectfully, we should recognize we all ship characters with whatever sexuality is canon, with the opposite of that canon. Like Hob Gadling x Dream of the Endless. Canonically, Dream has only ever been with women, he had a wife, etc. Like, let's not try and pretend we don't disrespect canons all the time and stop trying to be 'allies' or 'heroes'. It's fiction. It's not the Hat fic and writing like this isn't invalidating aro/ace ppl in any way imo. If it was, we could say all the Bakugou x Deku shit is invalidating the obvious crush Deku has on Ochako so we should all stop then, huh? Naw. My opinion so whatever. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Let me know if I should continue. Got a few ideas for this. but nothing concrete.
"𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄'𝙢 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙚, 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙨 𝙦𝙪𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙪𝙣.
𝙊𝙝, 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙣!"
You weren’t sure how you got yourself into this situation. Well, you knew how, but to have the Radio Demon with his full attention on you, hand down your pants with fingers teasing and coaxing blood to the tiny nub of pleasure to life, was something you’d never thought would or could happen. You’d even witness him actively avoiding all physical contact around the others and keeping a distance between them at all times. You’d only ever seen Nifty be the only one who could lay a hand on him without him looking like he was repulsed behind gritted teeth.
You thought he was just annoyed by you as a person, but the dots slowly clicked as your mind raced to think of what could have possibly required him to want to entertain you in this way. The only thing you could think of was the Radio demon had heard you expressing your powers, in private, to Charlie. You knew it had been best to do so alone, not wanting to become a pawn to any prying ears, especially as an unclaimed omega. You didn’t think your powers would’ve been one to issue such a strong, sexual response from the demon whom you’d heard wasn’t interested in such flights of fancy. Plus, it wasn’t like you knew really how to use it as well and it wasn’t like you had been the nicest smelling omega around. You had only been staying at the hotel at most about four months, only discovering it after the whole fight the hotel had against Heaven.
Alastor’s claws must’ve been retractable, the digits were meticulously placed with firm pressure, switching between circling and up-and-down motion on your throbbing button. He leniently alternated to stroking around the bud and a bit down, not quite to your entrance, but in an attentive manner to figure out what you fancied. You could hear soft jazz in the background. You’d been placed upon his lap, facing away from him with both of your thighs on each side of his, those long legs of his making it difficult to try and close yours. You were trapped in the spot by onyx tentacles; one wrapped around each calf and a thicker one that squished into your plush stomach. Alastor’s free arm was wrapped-up around your upper torso, his large hand grasping your neck as if to dare you to try and escape. Your scent was rising in the air, the smell of chamomile, frankincense and sandalwood clouded the room. It was tainted with the sweetness of arousal, usually a more subtle scent combination for an omega but you’d never heard any complaints. For Alastor though, it was overbearing on his senses - it had reminded him too much of his human life and now to have it unfiltered between you was near deadly. Oh, how it fueled a fire you didn’t even know was there. Sure, you could appreciate the handsome, charming demeanor that was inherently Alastor, though his off-putting behavior and remarks had been enough to warrant a bit of distance. You were just at the hotel to help sinners and by the sounds of Alastor’s cackling of others pain, you could grasp easily you were not on the same page. There had been no need to engage besides pleasantries and his passive, condescending mannerisms was a deterrent.
But, here you were with your pussy being flirted with by someone who you should be absolutely terrified of. However, you weren’t though, you weren’t dumb enough to not be cautious. If you were correct on your assumption, you knew you held a sort of bargaining chip he wanted, which had been the initial interest in you. You had been unsure if his intentions had been only business, nevertheless this event was telling more had been involved and brewing in Alastor’s head. This situation wasn’t supposed to be happening to begin with. He’d tempted you into a simple chat in his radio tower, only to corner you like this. If anything, you’d hoped he would have fessed up and tried to make amendments for his strange and creepy stalking behaviors. You knew he wouldn’t apologize for the added passive aggressiveness he displayed when having to interact with you so that was out of the question.
“Do you think you can get in the way of my charity project here? Do you think you have the right to threaten me?”
Alastor asked this, his radio filtered voice animated and joyful though it covered obvious annoyance.
The pressure of two of his fingers were becoming more intense as he sped up. A warm tingle spread like wildfire from your fingertips to your toes, igniting every nerve ending in a fiery blaze. Your heart raced in your chest, a primal drumbeat of desire that pulsed through your veins with a delicious urgency. You couldn’t stop the gentle, breathy pants that escaped your parted lips, hips twitching. You could feel the gentle caressing of his breath on top of your head and forehead, his lithe body being much taller and bigger than your plump, small one, so he had to crouch over your form. He was watching you with zealous eyes and a fervid smile.
“N-No, of course not. That’s not why I came to the hotel, Alastor. I wa… I wanted to help Charlie.”
You weren’t lying. Your ability came with smaller powers that were much more laidback than breaking soul deals. Sure, you had a few souls under your belt from when you’d first arrived in hell and unleashed your Justice upon one unlucky demon who you saw treat those who he owned unfairly and abusively. It had been the leader of a small gang that had been trying to establish a selling ground and you'd walked by to see the leader beating on a smaller demon who was desperately trying to explain that they'd gotten robbed. The anger you’d felt came out and it unleashed your wrath, a manifestation of a sword that cut through the chains. Those poor souls you set free gave you theirs as payment, seeing you’d never do such harm to them like that, that they could be free and never scared into having to sell their soul again to some awful sinner. You made sure they never told anyone of your powers and that they could have their freedom without you dictating or needing them. Your secret was safe. You had learned enough in your time in Hell to know how a sinner became an Overlord and the politics around it. That just wasn't your cup of tea. Nonetheless, you had the additional ability to manipulate auras though you’d only ever used it to calm potential attackers or anyone around you upset. It wasn’t anything too fancy or showy, but it had helped you more times than you could count. Considering yourself and other sinners, a calming energy would be helpful amongst the traumatized. You’d hoped Charlie would be able to use it when it came to her vision of redemption. To establish a safe place to heal, whether it turned to being able to redeem oneself or for just a healing journey. Dying and arriving in Hell was another round of trauma, it didn't hurt to try and work on healing.
Your gaze was all over the place despite wanting to look down to watch his hand in your pants but his grasp upon your neck prohibited in viewing such activities. You didn’t have enough focus to try and calm the radio demon but at this point, you didn’t think your manipulation to his aura would do anything. You hadn’t dared tried it since arriving and since he was already so worked up, it probably wouldn’t do much to deter him from his mission. The static radiating from his body penetrated yours, dancing amongst your skin in light prickles that had your little fuzzy ears cocked forward to listen.
“Oh, dearest. This is my entertainment. Not yours. I don’t enjoy thinking you may try to interfere or overthrow me — I advise you to not attempt your silly little powers on me.”
The grip on your neck tightened, his fingers picking up pace having already started feeling the wetness seep from you. Your arousal and exquisite pheromones were greedily inhaled by the cannibal, to savor the suggestion of a body ready for seed taking. It was a new urge for the radio demon to mark you with his seed, his scent and to taint you in such a ferocious manner.
“My, my. How darling of you to be so quiet and submissive now. Are you frightened?”
Alastor chuckled cheekily, the rumbling in his chest vibrated against your back. You honestly couldn’t care less about what he said, too focused on the quickening ministrations forced upon your now swollen clit. His own scent was filling the air, hitting your nostrils in gentle waves. He smelled of petrichor, the soothing scent before the rain hit the Earth. It was almost ironic.
Your breathing was shortening, the pleasure building with your lower muscles tightening. You weren’t scared at this point, especially feeling his hard dick pressed to your backside and his own arousal contaminating his natural scent.
“Alastor— W-Wait, wait wait-…” Your face flushed with color, you closed your eyes trying to hold back your impending orgasm.
The male hummed, though didn’t stop his fingers as a black tendril slid its way from his side and down your trousers. The pointed appendage slid between your folds, teasing at your entrance.
“I’m afraid there’s no waiting for you, my sweet. Now… cum for me.”
He sounded humored at first, voice dropping an octave as he demanded you to reach your peak. As he said it, his tentacle shoved its way into your cunt, stretching and burying itself deep inside. That pushed you over the edge, the way the tentacle had pushed up against your cervix and caused you to come immediately. Your back arched, pressing back into him with eyes closed tightly and moan muffled by your own stubbornness with a bitten lip and flattened ears. Your cunt squeezed at the tentacle, earning attention from it by starting to move in and out of you with determination. The appendage fucked you through it, the high of your release trying to pass but instead once your cunt was fucked through your first orgasm, there was no stopping the tentacle from sending you straight into another. The second ripped through your body fast and harsh, the wetness audible to both of your ears. Your voice cut through the static with a sudden high-pitched moan, your thigh muscles quaking as you pressed your hips down against his. Alastor paid no mind to your squirming body in his lap, only removing the inky, wet tendril from your hole after your petite form relaxed, twitching from overstimulation.
You were a complete mess at this point; face heated crimson with a light shine of sweat, bottom lip swollen from where you’d fought to keep yourself quiet, eyes half open and dazed. Alastor felt absolutely, utterly depraved seeing you like this. He could see you as equal to or more powerful than him - a righteous and conscientious mess. Never would he think someone so obviously pathetic would have such a power thus a power over him. He wanted you in more ways than one; to own you, to control you, and maybe to let you do the same with him. You’d be the only one who he could judge as worthy of such a thing, outright knowing you’d never give your soul to him.
His hand on your throat released, clawed fingers slid down to the pants you wore and ripped through them easily. Underwear was shredded too, your wet and puffy cunt exposed to the cool air. You glanced down through blurry eyes, to the sight of Alastor using both hands now to grip onto your thighs.
"What a performance! I'd say you deserve a reward for such a treat."
The deer demon used a shadowy tentacle to pull his cock out from between you both, the heavy shaft slapping up against your drenched slit. You jerked at the touch, still trying to catch your breath as you saw the tip of his cock leak, flushed with red and at the base was already the beginnings of a swollen knot. The shape was different than you’d thought it would be, the tip a notably large mushroom shape, the length connecting to it slender before flaring out larger in the middle before the rest of the length connected to the swollen knot. His scent was immensely clouding all your senses now, your omega body responding with profuse arousal. Oh, you wanted him now. It was undeniable of the chemistry of your two bodies, your inner omega preening at the idea of being so wanted and filled by such a strong Alpha. Your little black tail twitched eagerly, your small black ears pressing forward in alertness.
Alastor took your pause as the perfect opportunity to grind his hips up against you, his cock rubbing between your wetness, just slipping between the folds. You were trying to catch your breath still, eyes wide at the fact he must’ve been thinking his dick would fit. Your body was much smaller than his seven foot stature, surely he wouldn’t.
But, he would try. This was power-play at its finest, Alastor wanted to assert his dominance and control over your body. He wasn’t keen on physical contact for sure, using rather violence to instill terror upon those who dare threaten his status. You, however, weren’t phased by his theatrics so now he had to take it into his own hands. You had the one ability that if you wanted to, you could either ruin or save Alastor and that pissed him the fuck off.
"How cute. You're so wet for me."
The slick, lubricious sensation of his dick rubbing against you was utterly divine. You looked up at him, angling your head to the side with flickering eyes along his face. His scarlet eyes met yours, pupils dilated, his sinister grin stretched to its fullest to show his yellow-pointed teeth.
"P-Please-"
"Please, what? Hm? Speak up, you look stupid mumbling nothing."
Alastor opened his mouth, his long and pointed crimson tongue fell out to lick along your cheek. The muscle was smooth and only momentarily a distraction from him lifting your body up enough to start to bury the tapered head of his cock into your heat. Your body tensed at this regardless of the foreplay, your mushy and sopping cunt still resisting such an attempt of intrusion.
“Mmf! Ha… Haa… Alastor it won't -”
“C’mon now, darling. I’m getting in one way or another~!”
He said this in a sing-song like voice, almost chastising you, static rising in sound near the end to emphasize his resolute and unwavering commitment to ensuring his dick would invade your tiny hole. Your head snapped forward, hands grasping on the armrests as some sort of stability. He used your body to bear down at the same time, your cunt forced to accommodate and stretch with a sweetened squeeze once the glans fit. The psychotic Overlord didn’t stop there, no. He knew you could take it, take pain and take what he could give you.
Alastor didn’t give you a chance to soak in the way your pussy quivered in delight at being stretched so wide. He, instead, still holding at your plump waist and pulled you down no matter the resistance. His cock demanded your tight walls to envelope him, the swell of his appendage filling you quickly despite the inevitable ache. You were sure he wouldn’t get all the way down and he only paused once the tip of his dick hit your cervix. The absolute stretch and burn of the demons cock shoved you over the edge again in a premature yet strong climax of pleasure.
“Oh, fuck!”
You whined keenly, you nearly couldn’t stop cumming already, he was just so big that his length hit all the right bundles of nerves. Even now though, your pussy lips hadn’t swallowed him full nor reached the top of his knot. Your overly-sensitive and agitated clit thrummed between your legs, the frenzied spasms of your pussy’s muscles enticed a guttural snarl from him.
"Watch your language, omega. It's not very becoming of you."
Alastor’s sharp claws pricked at your clothing, digging more as he started moving your hips, to roll against his in a shallow motion. He didn’t lift you up too much, favoring to keep himself confined as deeply as he could. Your pussy walls made it incredibly hard for him, his focus on the way your pliable, tender cervix felt. Each hit of his tip was a kiss for your cervix to give in, to extend beyond normal measures and make your womb his. Your beseeching, eager moans and squeals left out of your lips, not bothering to saying anything. The sounds of your drenched pussy, strained sobs and skin meeting skin, were desirable compositions to the radio demon.
“Sweetheart, your moans of ecstasy are like a melody to me. I must have you immerse me.”
Alastor dropped the radio filter just at the last word, voice lowered from he usual cheerful and velvety tone. You knew what he meant, your eyes widened with adrenaline and panic. You tried wiggling out of his grasp this time, the tentacles grip tightening and pulling taunt to stop you, the demon laughing in elation as he drove his cock deeper with an abrupt and harsh tug down. This time, the tender and swollen cushion of your cervix gave into his bullying cock, terribly uncomfortable yet endorphin releasing.
You were fully seated on him basically limp, a passive and panting mess with dewy skin. Your raw pussy walls twitched and fluttered around his length, getting used to the strain. His large hands tenderly massaged your sides before merely resting on them. You could hear the static much louder now, his own breathing unbridled and heavy. You were sure if you looked down, no matter the soft meat on your tummy, it would be bulging from the sheer intrusion. You honestly couldn’t get your gaze to focus, overcome by the feeling of blissful fullness.
A drop of drool caught your attention, dripping onto your left shoulder and being absorbed by the dark sweater you wore. He was drooling over the tight, wet heat of your womb and overbeating want to mate you, nearly losing himself to his more demonic and feral form of himself with antlers elongating and scleras filling with black.
“You don't realize what you've been doing to me. Angering me, not even confiding in me - a strong Alpha, of your powers. Always on my mind, always thinking of you. Seems like even now… You have me within your precious grasp, little bear.”
Breathy, hungry - the infernal Overlord shuddered underneath you. He started off easy, controlling your smaller, supple form with his grasp and demonic tentacles. He bounced you up and down his cock, only pulling you up enough to feel the crown of his glans hit the resistance of your cervix with a gratifying suck. It was like your pussy was trying to keep him inside, the walls felt like they were tightening every time he went to pull out whilst your juices leaked and slobbered over his stiff member. This drove the radio demon into an all-consuming, rageful want.
The consuming urge to breed you heightened. He wanted you to smell of him, plump and well fed with a fawn inside your tummy. He already knew how fertile you were, mouth-watering pheromones lush with reminders. Alastor lifted you up, the shadowy tentacles holding on. His hips began thrusting up in a hurried pace. His cock pulled down on your cervix harshly, using your womb as his personal toy. His knot kept catching on your entrance, teasing your folds as a warning to what’s to come.
Each gasp, each moan that escaped your lips was a symphony of ecstasy, a sweet melody of pleasure that echoed through the air like a siren's song. In that moment, you were lost in a whirlwind of sensation. Your every nerve ending alive with the intoxicating rush of pleasure. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss. You couldn't deny that there was something intoxicating about the whole situation; the way his body moved against yours, the way his tentacles wrapped around you, the way his breath felt against your skin and how he'd taken all of this pleasure unprovoked. It had been too long since your omegan needs had been drawn out, your heats spent alone and cold.
The radio demon was entranced, intoxicated with your sounds, scent and plushness against him. He couldn’t stop the rest of his obsidian tendrils from finding their way to various places on your body, whether it be wrapping around you or fondling and rubbing your chest, thighs and stomach. Alastor wanted you to know how powerful he was, how he could consume you in all his glorious ways, and be a considerable candidate for a mate. The deer was truly feeling some conflicted feelings. Despite his cruel and domineering actions, there was a part of him that seemed to crave your power, your ability to challenge him, maybe a harbinger for change. You wondered if this was what he truly needed, someone to stand up to him and show him that he wasn't invincible.
You could feel it building again, the all-consuming and concentrated passionate feeling of your sensitive cunt reaching its cumulation.
"I'm going to e a t you."
It was too much, eyes tearful as you felt his cool, wet tongue swipe sloppily at your neck with a gnarling sound. He was lapping and putting pressure on your scent glands, gladly tasting at your sweetness. It was incredibly difficult to not seal this side of the deal, forcing you to have to consider being his mate and manipulated by your own body since the mating tie would have been halfway made if he bit you. His own Alpha chanted and growled 'My Omega. Mine!' internally. His jaw unhinged to latch fully onto the conjunction of your neck and shoulder just below your flavorful scent glands. Alastor’s fierce and sharp-edged teeth sunk in, blood oozing thickly from the puncture wounds. He sucked and kept hold of you like that, enamored with the erotic, ambrosial taste of your blood. Your desperate mewling was nonstop.
"A-Alpha, am gonna cum!"
The pain threw you over the edge and you came hard on his thick cock, your gooey wetness squishing out of you with every snap of his hips. His rough and jarring thrusts increased to fuck you through it. Your pussy was milking him, tightening and releasing his swelling cock - for him was heavenly, pleasure building up as his final push over the peak. He yanked your body down on him to secure his already bloating knot in you earning a debauched, filthy wail from your throat. Your gummy cunt strained and enveloped around him entirely, widely, slipping over his knot as it popped achingly into you. Once inside, the knot expanded, getting larger and larger and forcing your body to accept the wide bulge as it plugged your cunt. Your body tensed with hands grasping at the poor cushion of the chairs arms, muscles shaking violently as you felt his awfully hot, viscous cum enter your womb, filling it full. As Alastor's thrusts slowed, his breathing becoming more even, you knew that this was just the beginning. The power struggle between you two was far from over, and you knew that you would have to be careful in how you handled it.
But for now, you allowed yourself to bask in the afterglow of the encounter, feeling the warmth of Alastor's body against yours, and the heat of his cum inside you. You were slack against him and he fully leaned over you, his cock still leaking in you and his tentacles all stroking and rubbing tenderly along your body. Alastor’s hands slid underneath your top and cupped your belly’s softness, feeling where his dick and cum rested inside you snuggly as he unlatched his mouth from you. Those lean hands massaged the supple, swollen flesh instigating little, satisfied whines from you as you reveled in the mixed scent of blood and sexual afterglow. You were so full of his cock and seed, you knew when his knot went down it would leak heavily out of you.
"Good omega. So good for me, little omega." Alastor nuzzled to your scent gland, avoiding the now drying wound right underneath.
In this moment, you felt a strange sense of intimacy with the radio demon. Despite everything that had happened, you couldn't help but feel a connection with him, a bond that was forged in the heat of the moment. You wondered what would happen next, whether this would be the start of something more, or if it would end here and now. Maybe he’d try to kill you off for good. Who knows.
#alastor x reader#chubby reader#alastor hazbin hotel#radio demon#alastor the radio demon#x reader#reader insert#gn reader#smut#a/b/o dynamics#pwp#power play#angel dust#husker#hazbin#18+ only#alastor#lucifer morningstar#cervix penetration#tentacles#not beta read#we die like adam
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I’m Not What You Need (But I Am)
Miguel O’Hara x female reader
Summary: “When you sit there/acting like you know me/acting like you only brought me here to get below me”
You have a concern to bring to Miguel, but when he hears what you really think of him, he doesn’t let you off so easily
Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, kind of missionary idk what to call it, dominant Miguel, brat taming, orgasm denial, dirty talk, choking, sort of strangers to lovers, maybe a little bit of a hatefuck if you squint, reader is a Spider person, def a bit out of character
Wordcount: 3.5k
Find on Ao3 here :3
"Why are you coming to me with such trivial annoyances?" Miguel O'Hara asked you from the platform of his lab, at least ten feet above you. He was tapping on various screens, not giving you eye contact. It felt purposeful, pointed.
"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted to know when fights broke out. Keeping the peace and all that." You felt yourself growing warm, anxiety fluttering in your stomach.
"What I want," he said, his tone growing short. "Is for people to sort out their own bullshit, so I can worry about what's important. Which, if you haven't noticed, is much bigger than you and I and some stupid fight in the lobby."
As soon as he said it, you knew he was right. But he was still being an asshole. You were only trying to help.
You put your hands up in defense. "I just thought you'd wanna know." Then whispered under your breath "douchebag," as you turned to walk away.
But your progress was halted by something tugging at your wrist. You looked down to see what it was, and closed your eyes, quietly cursing yourself. Neon red webbing.
"You wanna run that by me again?" Miguel asked.
You swallowed a lump in your throat. "Nothing, it was nothing. I'll just leave."
You tried to pull free, but he was reeling you in, like a helpless fish on a hook. "Oh, no," he said, sounding somewhat amused. "No, I heard you. 'Douchebag,' eh? Not very creative. But…" he paused when you were closer, close enough that he could look directly down at you. "I want to hear you say it again. Face to face, this time."
You frowned. "How can we be 'face to face' when you're so high above me?"
He wagged a finger at you. "You've got a point there." In a sudden flash of tingling, your Spider sense triggered. But Miguel was too fast, he'd been doing this for far longer than you had. In an instant, you were wrapped in neon red and being hoisted upward onto the platform. He planted you right in front of him, putting his hands on his hips and leaning down so his eyes were level with yours. "Happy?"
You huffed. Why was he like this? A self-satisfied grin played at the edges of his plush lips as he scrutinized you with bloodshot eyes. Finally registering how close he was, and how huge he was, you started turning red. He could throw you around like you weighed nothing, couldn't he? He had just lifted you up here with hardly any effort. You'd never thought about another Spider like this. Sure, you were all strong, but there was something in Miguel's upper body that you couldn't free from your thoughts, something in those massive shoulders, something-
"Well?" He asked, breaking your trance. "I don't have all day."
You met his eyes. They looked so tired. You didn't want to insult him anymore. You wanted to leave and pretend like the thoughts you had about him never existed.
But you knew what he needed to hear.
"Douchebag," you repeated.
He smiled, and it was humorless. "It's nice to know that this is what people think of me. That I did this for all of us, and everyone in our worlds. And the word that comes to mind when people talk to me is…?" He raised an eyebrow prompting you.
"...Douchebag."
"That's right!" He pointed a finger at you. "I don't ask for much. I ask for people to listen and respect the operation. And that means respecting my time, too, eh? No more coming right to me with petty fights that people can solve on their own."
You just stared back up at him, hardly registering his words. Respect time, no more fights, whatever. His hair looked so soft.
"Got it?" He asked, starting to sound frustrated again.
You nodded.
"I need to hear you say it."
"G-got it."
"Good." He patted your shoulder. What an odd gesture. It was very nearly caring. "Let's get you out of here." He flexed his hand, talons coming free. He quickly swiped at the webbing he had wrapped you in, the strands snapping and falling to the floor in shreds.
Your heart was hammering in your chest. His brow furrowed. "Listen, I know I'm scary, but I'm just doing my job."
You shook your head. "I'm- I'm not scared."
"Are you not? Dios mio, I can hear your blood pumping."
His heightened senses were going to be your death sentence. The longer he stood staring at you, the worse your thoughts became. But you couldn't bring yourself to move away from his attention. You crossed your arms, trying to make yourself small so he would stop looking at you.
He raised an eyebrow. "What, do you wanna be friends or something?"
No, you thought, I want us to be something different.
Despite your best efforts, you blurted out, "no, in all honesty, I've never really liked you that much." Why did you say that? What was wrong with you?
He cocked his head, his eyes widening, processing what you just said. He started to nod. "Oh, wow. Great. Thank you so much. What a productive conversation. And you're still here because…?"
"Because you getting the last word in is infuriating to me." You couldn't stop yourself. You knew this was bad, but you couldn't stop.
"How do you think I feel? You came here for the sole purpose of bothering me and now you won't leave me the shock alone." He pointed at you again, forefinger lightly jabbing your collarbone. "You. Can. Leave. This is my lab, you little brat." He spoke the words through gritted teeth, and you could just barely see his elongated canines, gleaming and sharp in the light of the lab's computer screens.
Oh no.
You stood there, just blinking at him. You've never seen someone so annoyed looking so attractive at the same time. It wasn't fucking fair.
He suddenly started, the anger from his face vanishing, confusion taking its place. "Oh yeah?" He asked, his voice taking on a mocking tone. "That's why your heart is pounding?"
Fuck.
"What, uh… what do you-"
"Don't play dumb with me.” He placed a gloved finger under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. “I can smell that you're turned on. Is that why you came here to bother me? So you could gawk at me? And maybe I'd fuck you if you were lucky."
You backed up, nearly slipping off the edge of the raised platform. Miguel reached out and caught your hand, pulling you in close to him. Unconsciously, you splayed your hands on his chest to steady yourself. His body was so warm and inviting, and you were drawn into it like a little planet circling a blazing sun.
What was happening, what were you doing?
"Is that what you thought?" He asked, seeming to echo the questions you asked yourself, his voice growing more quiet as he looked down at you.
You quickly raised your hands away from him, closing them into loose fists and crossing your arms again. "No," you said, truthfully.
"But you're thinking it now." He nodded. "Aren't you?"
After a pause, you nodded too.
"I really need to hear you say it." He probed.
"I'm…. I'm thinking about it now."
"Oh, are you? Thinking about what?"
You swore under your breath, doing a poor job of hiding a scowl. You should've known he wasn't going to make it easy for you.
"Thinking about you fucking me." You grimaced after admitting it, waiting for him to mock you and disown you.
He smiled. "That's funny. I thought I was a douchebag."
"Fuck you, man!" You threw your arms up into the air, turning around and preparing to hop down from the platform.
“No no no, come on, now,” he said, grasping your wrist with a large, warm hand. His grip was surprisingly gentle. “Why don’t you give me a chance to change your mind?”
You looked him in the eyes, and there was a small spark there. You sighed, unable to deny the reaction your body had to him. You wanted him. And he was offering himself to you. What reality was this where that was even possible? Not ten minutes ago, you were hardly closer than strangers. “Okay,” you said, offering him a small grin. “Don’t fuck it up.”
“Oh, I won’t.” In another swift movement, he swept you up into his arms and laid you down on your back on the lab floor. He was above you, arms on either side of your head, boxing you in. You could hardly see anything past those vast shoulders. You swallowed. He raised one hand to your head, petting your hair. “Look at that. You really are so pretty. Couldn’t help thinking it even when you were pissing me off earlier.”
You furrowed your brow. “I thought you wanted to change my mind, asshole, is this-”
He cut you off as his hand lowered, skating down your side and brushing against your breast before traveling even further. You exhaled shakily, trying to prepare yourself for this. Miguel O'Hara was touching you. Miguel O'Hara was going to fuck you.
When he reached the curvature of your hips, he fondly squeezed, humming to himself. "Soft… so soft. You wouldn't want an asshole like me to eat you out, would you?"
Your brain short-circuited at how blatant he was. "No, I- I would, I really fucking would, Miguel."
"Oh, are we on a first name basis, now?" He hooked a clawed finger into the fabric of your suit, ripping a huge gash into it so he could access you. That… that was your good suit. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to keep yourself from quipping back at him as he scooted downward, wrapping his arms around your thighs and lining himself up with your pussy. You threw your head back in anticipation, screwing your eyes shut. How was this real? How was-
You gasped as his tongue made gentle contact with your sex, slowly and carefully licking a long swipe from your opening to your clit, like he was savoring the first taste of you.
"You taste even better than you smell, amor."
Fuck, he was savoring you. You trembled beneath him, your hands tentatively reaching down to tangle with his hair. And it was even softer than you thought it would be.
"That's it," he encouraged. "Hang onto me."
You listened, your grip on his hair tightening. As if that were his cue, he brought his tongue back to your aching pussy, lapping at the wetness that was all but dripping from you. Your body immediately felt too hot on the metal floor, and you were convinced that you were beginning to melt under the warmth of his tongue. The almost-penetration was sending you spiraling; he was giving you nothing that you needed while somehow simultaneously answering your every secret desire. You needed that mouth on your clit. Your greedy, aroused body needed more, more. You had him all to yourself and he was teasing you. It wasn't fair.
You whimpered as you gripped soft locks of his hair, waiting for him to take the plunge. Waiting…. And waiting. But he just kept lapping contentedly at your entrance, just barely dipping his tongue inside. The feeling was pleasant but infuriating. What was he trying to do? Did he want you to beg for it?
Oh.
…He couldn't be serious.
But that was the only conclusion you could reach. After all, he'd been asking to hear you say things this entire encounter, prompting you to be vocal. All you had to do was swallow your pride.
"M-Miguel…?" You asked, your voice quiet.
He stopped, picking his head up slightly, looking at you from under his thick brows. "Mm? What is it?"
"Please, um… please…." Your voice caught in your throat. Why was this so difficult?
"Oh, you're begging me now? What could you possibly be begging for… Isn't this what you wanted?"
You narrowed your eyes as he held your gaze with that lackadaisical expression.
"Please," you started, feeling humiliated. "Please suck on my clit."
"Good girl. All you had to do was ask." In no time at all, his mouth was back on you. He zeroed in on your clit, taking the sensitive bundle of nerves into the wet warmth of his mouth, sucking on it just as you needed. The feeling was so intense and you couldn't suppress any of the noises that escaped you. And the noises he made didn't help in the slightest. He was humming as he worked your clit, the gentle vibrations of his voice adding to the overstimulation. He stopped for a moment to instead use his tongue, and the pointed attention was delicious.
"How are you feeling, amor?" He asked without fully pulling away from you, his voice slightly lisping from the contact.
"Good," you gasped, feeling like you were getting close to the edge. "So, so good. Please keep going."
"Tell me when you're going to cum."
"Yes, yes I will."
He continued his efforts, mercilessly devouring you, a cacophony of wet sounds rising to meet your ears. You could feel your orgasm building, your body singing. He was playing you like an instrument. That warm, pulsating feeling was building deep inside your core, threatening to burst apart with every second.
Your grip on his hair tightened. "Miguel, I'm- I'm gonna-"
Your back started arching and you closed your eyes as… nothing happened. He pulled his head away from you. You opened your eyes to see him looking at you from between your legs, one of his eyebrows raised.
"Wha- what?"
He smirked. "Oh, this? It's nothing... It's just that douchebags usually don't care about making women cum."
Your jaw dropped open. This again? You gritted your teeth, your clit swollen and thrumming with your pulse. You needed release.
"I'm sorry." You said, your voice desperate.
He raised his eyebrows, amused. "Oh, wow, that was fast." His tone was so matter-of-fact.
"I'm sorry for calling you a douchebag and an asshole, I was wrong about you. Please let me cum." You spat the words out so quickly that you hardly registered what you were saying.
"How could I say no to that?" He returned to you, gripping your thighs more firmly than he had before, shamelessly moaning into you as you started to curl up off the hard metal floor. Your orgasm was so close, it was right within your grasp. Your breath started going ragged as you held onto him for dear life. In a white hot burst of pleasure, you came, swearing loudly as Miguel drank up every bit of you, letting you ride your orgasm out on his skillful tongue. He slowed down right as you did, matching your pace perfectly until you were a heaving mess on the floor in front of him.
"My turn, now," his voice came through the fog, it sounded distant. But you could feel strong arms lifting you up and all but dropping you onto your back on one of the lab's computer consoles, its screen turning off in response. He dismissed a section of his high tech suit, his manhood coming free. You couldn't help but gawk at him. His body was unreal. From the small window he created, you could see hard lines of muscle carved into golden skin. Your head started spinning again.
He began pumping his hard cock as he looked down at you, spreading your legs further open with his free hand. "See how easy it is to get what you want when you aren't being a brat?" The way his muscles flexed through his tight suit while he worked himself was maddening. You wanted- no, you needed him to fuck you. You needed him inside you.
You nodded your head, answering his question.
"So, tell me what you want."
"I want you to fuck me," you answered, still panting from your orgasm. "I want to feel you so badly. Please, Miguel."
"You're a fast learner," he purred, bringing his cock to your folds and lubricating himself on the mess you two had made. He slid over your slick entrance, his head touching your aching clit as he moved up and down. "I'll fuck this pretty cunt for you, since you asked so nicely."
He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed himself inside of you, inch by thick inch. You moaned, the feeling of finally being full was luscious, he was pressing at your walls from all angles. At last, when he was in up to the hilt, he stayed there for a moment while his large hands found your waist.
"My God, look at you. You took all of me, and so shocking well. You," he exhaled, seemingly taking a second to compose himself. "You feel so good."
"Thank you," you whispered, breathless. He was praising you. It was… nice to hear. Stubbornness be damned.
He chuckled to himself. "Please and thank you? You really do learn fast. You've earned this, amor." And with that, he pulled himself out of you, slamming back in with a hard slap. Over and over, he fucked you with the entire length of his cock, hitting spots inside of you that you weren't sure even existed. "Lemme hear you, I wanna hear it all."
You obeyed. "O-oh my God, Miguel, fuck. It's… it's so good. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you."
Thanking him fueled his fire; his grip on your waist tightening, red eyes sparkling wildly. "Good girl, that's it… watching my cock disappear inside of you… it's making me crazy. You like getting fucked by someone you hated before all this? You wanna get filled up by someone you don't even like?"
"Yes, please." Your back arched into him, the pressure from his unwavering thrusts overwhelming you. The feeling was impossibly perfect, your body tingling from your head to your toes. He really did fit inside of you so well.
"You'll get it, baby. Keep being good for me, you'll get it."
As he continued, his hands roamed your body. Groping at your breasts, resting on the soft slope of your stomach. You grabbed one of his traveling hands, a rogue feeling overtaking you as you brought it up to your throat.
His eyes widened in disbelief. “Y-yeah? You want me to choke you?” He sounded excited.
“P-please,” you huffed, grabbing onto his forearm.
“Holy shit, you’re something else.” He began applying gentle pressure to your airway as he kept fucking you. It was the perfect amount of constriction; suppressing your breath intake just enough for your head to feel pleasantly airy. He was good at that, why was he so good at that?
Between the way he was pounding you and the way he was choking you, your muscles started to bear down on him.
"Yes, yes, squeeze that cock. Good girl. You’re gonna get what you want.”
You clenched down on him, your orgasm rocking you to your core as he fucked you through it. It hit you in giant waves, crashing over you and pulling you into the undertow. You felt completely drunk on it. The warmth of it was everywhere in your body, all the way up to your fingertips. Your head swam, your eyes rolling back into your head. Miguel swore to himself, his tempo becoming more irregular. He released your throat, hands flying down to grip the console. You thought you could hear it cracking.
“God, you’re tight. I’m gonna fill you up.”
“Yes,” you rasped, your body shaking.
He growled as he came inside of you, bearing his fangs in clenched teeth once more, and you could feel his cock twitch followed by the heat of his seed as it stuffed you full. He lingered over you, his eyes looking frenzied as his gaze flicked over your face, his chest heaving with every recovering breath.
You released a deep sigh, smiling tenderly at him. “Thank you, Miguel.”
“You, uh,” he started awkwardly, running his hands through his hair. He still hadn’t even pulled out of you yet. “You earned it,” he repeated.
He took a short, unsure step back, as he pulled his length free from you. You could feel his cum leaking from you upon his release. There was so much of it.
He held his hand out to you to help you up, and you grasped it, smiling again as you got to your feet.
“I’ll clean this mess up, but you.…” He scanned your frame. “...I’ve got a pair of pants on one of the lab chairs down there.” He pointed toward a particularly cluttered section of his space. “Bringing them back would be a much better excuse to see me than a fight in the lobby.”
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara#smut#my writing#ive got another one for you you sick bastards#this one was not beta read in the slightest so bear with me pls#hope you enjoy!#i will not stop the metalcore title/summary naming convention anytime soon so my condolences
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Okay, so... I had this thought earlier... but what would Vox think.. if a reader.... had a breeding kink? They get off to the idea that Vox fills them up after a hot and heavy pounding. Would something awaken in him, or would he just simply indulge in their fantasy after some thought?
My god you'd definitely awaken something in him.
That being said, if you were to start begging him to breed you in the middle of a session, it would give him just enough pause to make you wonder if you fucked up before he goes absolutely fucking feral.
If You Insist [Vox x Reader] NSFW
(NSFW writing under the cut. Minors stay away <3)
It had been a long fucking day. Vox's schedule had been booked to the second with back-to-back meetings regarding products, partnerships, and new streaming services that would be released in the upcoming year. To say he was ready to tear someone apart by the end of it all would be an understatement. Having to sit through so many boring meetings had been mind-numbingly dull and he wanted nothing more than to unwind and blow off some steam.
You were lying on the couch in his penthouse when you heard the familiar electric charge building up from one of the cameras installed in the corner. The room flashes with bright cyan light as you look up from your phone and you perk up at the sight of your favorite overlord.
"There you are," you say as you pocket your phone and get up. Your eyebrows furrow as you see the mental exhaustion clear in his expression. You open your arms and Vox groans as he falls into them, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder as he takes a deep breath.
"Long day?" You ask as you rub his back.
Vox simply grunts, his arms tightening around you. "Fucking idiots. Every last one of them, I swear."
You chuckle, shaking your head. "They can be, yeah. What can I do to help? There's still leftovers in the fridge or we could watch reruns of that shitty series you like or-"
Your trailing list of suggestions is cut off as Vox's claws dig into the back of your shirt, his hot breath fanning over the side of your neck. You shiver as he begins marking a trail of heated nips and kisses on your skin.
"T-That answers that," you sigh as you tilt your head to give him better access. After dating Vox for as long as you had been, you know better than to let him get too carried away without redirecting him to a more comfortable location. He was impatient and once he got going, he didn't tend to give much mercy or consideration to any potential aching joints after the fact.
You pull on his bow tie as you take a step back, then another. He growls as you make him follow you to the couch, his claws drifting down to your hips. You smirk as you keep ahold of the accessory and pull him down onto the couch. He straddles your lap as he hungrily presses his lips against yours.
"Coming home to this was the only thing that got me through all that bullshit," he muttered against your lips as his hands sneak under your shirt. You take the hint and help him pull off the offending garment. It gets tossed to the side and you grin as he bends down and immediately captures one of your breasts between his teeth while cupping the other.
You let out a pleased hum as your fingers find the back of his collar and dig into the fabric. "You know I'm always more than happy to help you unwind," you purr.
It wasn't long before all clothing was abandoned altogether and he had maneuvered you onto his lap while he lay on the couch beneath you. His hips stuttered against yours as you ground your slick heat against him. Every time he tried to pull you down, you smacked his hands. He growled in frustration, his claws digging into your skin hard enough to break the surface. You hiss at the pain, but grin as you look down at him and continue to tease him with your ministrations. "Patience, Vee," you chastise him.
"I've been patient," Vox growled with frustration. "All fucking day!" You had planned on teasing him for longer but were caught off guard as he flipped your positions and pinned you underneath him with a scowl.
"Vox, wait- Ah!" Your hand shoots above you, clutching onto a pillow as he slips two of his fingers into your heat. His grin is cruel as he doesn't bother taking much time before he slips in a third and moves faster.
"No, I don't think I'll be playing your games this time, Dollface," he smirks as he plunges deeper within you. He scissors his fingers and curls them cruelly as you gasp and writhe beneath him. He leans in, pressing down as he lowers his face to yours. "I'm going to do what I want to you, and you're going to let me. Isn't that right?"
You moan as he curls his fingers against your G-spot. He strokes slowly over the sensitive area with a sadistic grin. His free hand shoots out and clamps down around your throat. You gasp, clutching his wrist as he tightens his grip. "When I ask a question, you answer."
He lets you struggle for air for just a little longer, still teasing you with gentle strokes despite his cruelty before he relaxes his grip just enough for you to find your voice.
"Y-Yes," you gasp. "Whatever you want. I'll take it. I'll take it all."
"Good," Vow growled as he released you. He pulled his fingers from your needy cunt and looked at the slick collected between his fingers. "Now then," he sighed before shoving them into your mouth.
You gag as his claws press dangerously against the back of your throat. "Be good and clean up the mess you made."
Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you swirl your tongue carefully around him. His sadistic grin only grows at the sight of your pathetic obedience. "That's better," he purred as he reached down and pumped himself slowly at the sight.
He lined himself up against your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock against you teasingly as you rolled your hips against him. He groans, unable to hold himself back for much longer. "Show me," he orders.
You open your mouth, letting your tongue hang out as he retracts his clean fingers. He inspects them and nods. "Good," he says simply before his eye flashes and he shoves himself inside you without warning.
Your back arches and you let out a strangled scream as he snaps his hips into you cruelly. "Now take it all."
His claws dig into your hips as he holds them up and pounds into you mercilessly. You cry and grasp desperately at the couch beneath you as he lets out his frustrations. "That's fucking it," he groans. "You're such a perfect little fucking cocksleeve. Fuck! Your body was made for taking this dick."
You nod, babbling with tears in your eyes, "Yes, fuck, yes! I'm yours to use, all fucking yours. Please!"
Vox chuckled as his sharp, cruel thrusts slowed to a stop. You whine, feeling the desperate need in you begging to be released. "No, no, no, please don't stop!" You sob.
"I don't know," Vox smirked. "You were playing pretty damn coy earlier. I don't know if you deserve it." As much as he wanted to ruin you, he loved watching you suffer for it. For him, it was just as good as actually finishing.
You wrap your arms around his neck and roll your hips up into him desperately. "Please Vox, I'm sorry. I'll be good. I promise."
"Hmm," Vox grins as he considers it. "You promise, huh?"
You nod furiously, "Yes, yes, I promise, so please for the love of god, fuck me."
He growls as he captures your lips and starts pounding into you hard. You shake, hanging on for dear life as you moan around his tongue in your mouth. When he releases your lips, you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the bliss of it all. "Fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you," you say as you moan unabashedly.
"T-That's it," Vox said as his screen started to glitch. "There's my good fucking w̴̘͇͆͋̕̕h̷͇̦̪̺̯͋̄̂͝͠o̸̼̝̼̬͑͌͜r̵̡̻͋͛́̾è̷̹̻͎̼̹. Take it."
"Please, fuck, I'll take it, I'll take it! Fucking fill me up," you babble as the knot in your core tightens. "Pump me full of your cum. I want to take every last drop, please!"
Vox's eyes widen and he slows to a stop as he catches his breath. You whine, throwing your head back as the peak you had been so close to reaching slipped from your grasp. "Nooo, why?!"
"Did you mean that?" Vox asked, his tone unreadable and quiet.
You pant, your expression furrowing in frustrated confusion as you look up at him. "What?"
"You just-," Vox huffed, dropping his head as he continued to catch his breath. "You just fucking told me to cum inside of you, dumbass."
You blink slowly before the words of passion catch up with you. Your heart is pounding as you bring your hands up to the sides of Vox's face and lift his screen so he's looking at you.
"Vox?" you say softly as you look him deep in the eyes. "Breed me."
"Ohoho, fuck," Vox grins. You feel him twitch hard inside of you and squeal in delight as you feel him lift your legs and fold you into a mating press.
"Don't have to tell me twice," he growled with a feral grin. The familiar black rings in his eye sent a shock of excitement through you as he held you down and slowly slid back inside of your glistening cunt.
You both moan and Vox's eyes screw shut in concentration as he steadies his breathing. He crouches over you, his body pressing your legs further against your own body, and starts fucking slowly. His entire body shakes with excitement as he presses into you and holds himself for just a moment. "Just remember," he says hoarsely. "You asked for this."
His cock slid in and out of you with ease as he started his relentless assault. You moaned and babbled absolute gibberish as the obscene sounds of his grunting and balls slapping against your pussy filled the room. Every thrust felt impossibly deep as he pounded into you without restraint.
"F-Fuck," he grunted as his face started to glitch. "I'm gonna make you take every. Last. Fucking. D̴͕̂r̵̛̳̺̽̽o̷̦͘p̶̢͕̈ͅ.̷̜̤͈̿̒͌"
The rekindled need inside of you snapped as you felt him shove his cock as deep in you as he could as he came with a strangled shout. He pressed you into the couch and stars exploded across your vision as you felt him pour into you until you were impossibly full.
"We are absolutely fucking doing that again."
Vox collapsed on top of you, his cock buried inside of of you, keeping his cum plugged inside of you. The weight made you groan weakly and he chuckled as he looked down at your wrecked expression. He gently dragged his claws across your forehead, pulling the hair that stuck to your skin out of your face. He pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your cheek as he committed the sight of you to memory.
#vox x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#vox#hazbin hotel smut#give me more requests#im too tired to beta read this tonight
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rating: mature; 18+ only | cross posted on ao3 here
"truth or dare?"
steve's looking at eddie expectantly while he waits for his answer, his eyes wide and cheeks pushed up from the grin pulling at his lips. he's shirtless from past dares and eddie's trying hard to not look at the hair covering his chest, to not look at the way his scars have faded into a pretty dusty pink, to not look at the flexed muscles in his arm from where it's slung over the back of the couch and he's definitely not looking at the way the movement pulls his pec up.
they aren't high enough for this, not drunk enough for it either, but he feels intoxicated. maybe that's just what being around steve harrington at 2am does to him. it makes him stupid.
"...truth?"
steve's grin grows wide enough to challenge even the cheshire cat and eddie knows that truth was the wrong choice. see? stupid.
the hand on the back of the couch tightens and eddie can feel the way it pulls the cushion under his back, the fabric creasing against his shoulder blade. steve's leaning in a tiny bit closer, same wild grin on his face, and eddie feels himself stop breathing. he tries to remain calm, tries to keep an even expression on his face, but when steve harrington is in his presence, it's harder than it seems.
"okay... truth," steve's close enough that eddie can see the specks of green in his eyes and he tries to focus on that instead of how he can almost feel breaths that aren't his own on his lips.
"what's your biggest turn on?"
whatever breath eddie attempts to suck in gets stuck in his throat and turns into a cough forcing steve to pull away cackling. he isn't in eddie's face anymore but he can still feel him, can still sense the barely there exhale on his face, can still only see steve green behind his eyelids.
"what the fuck, dude?!" is all he can get out. his palms are sweaty so he rubs them furiously over his jeans, scowling at his fingers when they get stuck in the small rips.
steve is laughing at the other end of the couch but his arm is still settled over the back of it, creating the most delicious tension on his chest. he looks broad like this, broader than eddie's really ever seen him. and with his hand across the couch and his legs opened just slightly and his bare chest on display and his bright white teeth glinting in the dim moonlight he looks-
he's hot.
he looks like the old steve, all cock-sure and suave, like he knows he can get absolutely whatever he wants. it does eddie's head in. is he what steve wants? is he why steve looks like he could jump on anything and everything that came his way? is he why steve thought he could ask him about his turn ons as easy as if he was asking about the weather?
"i don't have-"
"oh bullshit," steve says with a flick of his free hand. "everyone has one, man. what gets you all hot and bothered?"
eddie tilts his head up with a scoff. "why do you want to know?"
"consider it your average every day bonding." he says it like it's obvious, like all guys do when they sit around and play sleepover games like they're kids again is talk about what they like in bed.
but eddie's drunk on steve in 2am moonlight and can't help himself for giving him everything.
"i like dirty talk."
he'd always give steve everything.
steve's grin shifts into something borderline feral that has eddie vibrating under his skin. he moves his hips and settles back into the arm of the couch, leveling eddie with his gaze. his eyes are heavy when they look at him and eddie feels glued to the spot.
"oh yeah?" steve's inflection sounds exactly like what eddie craves for and he's afraid that he's shown all his cards already if steve was able to pick up on it that fast. "like what?"
he rolls his eyes if only so that he can take them away from watching steve's muscles contorting as he shifts on the couch. it's not hard to get eddie in the mood, that's the embarrassing thing. his limited experience before he learned about alternate dimensions and things living under hawkins didn't exactly help his case. he didn't exactly have guys throwing themselves at him as a social pariah covered in still healing scars, either.
so steve looking at him with those eyes and that grin and without a shirt for god's sake? not helpful.
"i don't know, i just-" his mind supplies images that gets his cock stirring. a certain king of hawkins under him or on top of him or right behind him whispering things in his ear that he had never really thought about before.
"-i just like hearing the effect i have on them, i guess."
and then without warning steve is moving. he's up on his hands and knees and is leaning into eddie's personal space again, his face close enough to eddie's that he can see that damn green in his eyes again.
there's still a bit of space between then but not nearly enough that eddie isn't effected by it. steve's pinkie is brushing his thigh and his cock that was already interested just thinking about the sounds steve could make is stirring even more awake under his gaze.
"you like hearing you're doing good?" steve questions. eddie sighs. "you like all the moans and stuff?"
all eddie can do is nod, afraid that if he speaks that he'll do something embarrassing like say he wants to pull whatever sound out of steve that he'd let him. suddenly, steve's pulling away minutely to get his mouth close to eddie's ear, breath coming out in puffs against his skin.
"oh fuck," steve huffs out, voice pitched high and dainty. feminine. "oh, oh eddie, it's so good."
eddie grips his hands onto his knees like they're the only thing keeping here on planet earth as steve moans in his ear. his cock is starting to grow, whatever blood that was left in his head heading south fast and it's leaving him dizzy. from up close, he's sure steve can see what he's doing if he was to look down. he's wearing sweatpants that don't exactly hide anything, after all.
the sounds steve are making are all light and pretty like he's going off of his own experience and eddie has the fleeting thought that it's what girls sound like under him. that some girl has been pressing up close to steve's chest and had her pretty pink lips up close to his ear as he fucked her into the mattress. but oh, if eddie had the courage he'd tell him. tell him that he doesn't want to hear some girl, some stranger.
he wants to hear steve.
"you gonna take care of that?" steve's voice is back to somewhat normal, a bit raspy and deep, and it floods through eddie's veins like molten lava. he doesn't remember closing his eyes but he peels them open and turns his head to look at steve. he follows his gaze and sees that they're both looking at how turned on eddie is. he doesn't have enough blood left in his cheeks to blush but he would if he could.
"steve, that's wei-"
a hand wrapping over his knee stops him mid sentence. "not weird. do it. i want you to."
eddie gulps even though his throat feels drier than it's ever been. steve's fingers tighten and he jerks his chin up to urge him on and fuck, he knew he'd always give steve whatever he wanted.
"can you just," eddie sucks a breath in through his teeth as he drops his hand to his waistband, fingers teasing under the fabric. "sound like you, please?"
the silence feels palpable. he can feel every place that his clothes are touching him, every place that steve is touching him, every place his breath has fallen on him that evening. he has half a mind to take it back and tell him he was joking, to pretend like he's some girl again and eddie could get off on that, too. he could at least try, especially if it was steve.
but then- "eddie, fuck."
steve's mouth is close to his ear again, lips ghosting over the shell of his ear as he groans into it. his voice is pitched deep but it's definitely undeniably steve. he shifts onto his knees so he can drape his arm behind eddie once more. not touching, but there and as eddie's hand slips under the fabric to grip at his cock, they both let out a sigh.
"yeah, there you go. gonna touch yourself for me, hmm?"
"shit," eddie groans out as his hand trails over his weeping cock. he brings his thumb up to gather a bit of the precome that's dribbled out of the top and rubs it between his fingers before gliding them down his length. steve's panting these little sounds into his ear that mirror eddie's own moans. when he sighs, steve sighs, when he whines, steve whines.
it's like he's touching himself to get steve off, too, and isn't that something to think about? them laying side by side with each other's dicks in their hands, stroking just how the other likes to get them off. he'd watch steve's face, speed up when his eyes open and slow down when he's close. he'd buck his hips into steve's steady grip, swallow the moans he pulls out of him so they echo through his body. it'd be heaven on a mattress or hardwood floor or ratty couch in a ratty trailer.
"got me all hard in my jeans, eddie." steve breathes out and eddie can't see is he's lying or not but it sounds true and eddie briefly wonders if steve should go into porn with those acting skills. "the way you look with your hand in your pants, jesus, it's a sin. all flushed and hot and, god-"
if steve keeps it up, eddie is going to be done way faster than he wants to be. his hand speeds up when steve lets out a particularly loud moan in his ear and then there's a brush of denim against his arm and wow, steve was in fact not lying. his hips keep jumping up to get pressure against eddie's forearm and the long line of steve's cock is teasing him.
"steve," he whines out, "are you..."
"of course i am," he laughs against eddie's ear before sneaking a tiny kiss to his temple. "you're so fucking hot, dude. been wanting to do this for too long. too long, oh my god."
his hand that was on eddie thigh moves up to unbutton his pants and slides under his own waistband and eddie takes a moment to slow his strokes as he looks up at steve. he looks like a greek god in grungy trailer lighting, chest shimmering with sweat and puffing with heavy breaths. he's grinning down at eddie and he feels like he could float away.
"think i'm hot, stevie?" he says on a shuddering breath as he hits a spot on his cock that he immediately goes to find again. steve smirks before his eyes roll back as he gets a hand on his own dick.
"so hot, so fucking-"
he's cut off by a moan and eddie sends up a silent thank you to the universe that they have the trailer to themselves for the next few days because eddie needs to pull more of those out of him. he needs steve on his back and on his cock and in his mouth and on his fingers and every which way he'll let him have him if it means he gets to hear more of that.
"gonna get my mouth on you soon enough, gotta know what you taste like. gonna get you down my fucking throat..."
steve's brought his mouth back down to eddie's ear and is grunting like he's running the race of a lifetime while he tells eddie what he wants to do him. says truths of his own outside of the now forgotten game, secrets laced with some of the most romantic things eddie's ever been told. tells him how pretty he is, how good he is, how he's imagining eddie's fingers on his cock and on his skin and how he's close, close, close.
knowing he's effecting steve this much, knowing he has this hold on him that he thought was one sided, knowing that he's racing through steve's veins like he's racing through eddie's, it's too much.
"i'm... fuck- i'm gonna," eddie's hand speeds up and the hand on the back of the couch comes up to tangle in his hair. there's a pressure pulling him back until he's looking at the ceiling for a second until all he can see is steve and the flecks of green he's come to love.
"it's okay, i've got you, come on. let me just-"
their first kiss is shared on a ratty couch in a ratty trailer with their hands in their pants and come covering their fingers. eddie's mouth is open enough that he's moaning into steve's and the hand on the back of his head is twitching while he comes. they pull apart enough that eddie can hear what they sound like as they work through their orgasms together, can hear what steve sounds like as he works himself down.
he's going to get that on a record someday, he tells himself. it'll go platinum.
and just as quick as it started, it's over. only this time steve's snuggling up next to him and using his clean hand to stroke over the exposed skin on eddie's stomach instead of returning to the opposite end of the couch. their chests are heaving as they try and regain their composure and it feels like bliss until steve laughs.
it's like an ice bucket being poured over him and he wishes he didn't love hearing steve so much because he's afraid that the laugh will haunt his memories for ages to come. steve must feel him freeze up because the hand on his stomach circles around his waist and pulls him even closer so he can nuzzle his face into eddie's chest. it starts to settle the nerves that had wound themselves around his insides.
"i don't know if you could tell," he starts, voice muffled against eddie's flannel. "but i've been wanting to do that, this, for ages."
eddie snorts. "you've wanted to make me jizz in my pants for ages? really? low standards even for you."
steve snorts out a laugh in return. "no, you idiot. i've wanted to be able to do this for ages."
he tilts his head up and places a featherlight kiss to eddie's lips. it's soft, it's sweet, it's the opposite of everything that happened not two minutes prior. eddie feels a smile tugging at his mouth and pulls back to see steve smiling, too.
"does this mean..."
there's no words, no definition that eddie can put to the events of the night that don't sound silly or juvenile. but then he sees steve settle back down, pressing a kiss to right over his heart before laying his head down where it was.
"... that we're doing that again? absolutely. just maybe in a bed next time."
and maybe they don't need a label. maybe all they need is laying on a couch with come cooling in their pants and echoes of what just happened bouncing off the trailer walls. maybe all they need is a promise of later sealed with a kiss and their heartbeats in synch.
and maybe, just maybe, they'll play truth or dare again.
#defintely did not beta read or whatever so ignore any and all typos pls#steddie#steddie fic#my writing#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie drabble#steddie ficlet#steddie headcanon#steddie smut
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#fanfic#beta reading#polls#yes i am using polls to procrastinate on my wip#which is nearing completion and could use a beta reader and/or britpicker#but i'd like to post it before the start of my work trip on Monday#(and also before it gets jossed)#so I'm likely to skip it#but anyway i think i hold myself to higher standards here than others#whether or not something is beta read doesn't affect whether i read#generally#lest you worry btw#i don't take tumblr polls as strong evidence of anything#but they're entertaining and sometimes interesting#op
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sometimes tagging "no beta" means haha, no one checked this for typos! and sometimes it means no one read this over because if they did, they would delete this, take away my computer, and make me go to therapy.
#thoughts#ao3#no beta we die like men#no beta#writing#reading#writing things#fanfiction#fic#fanfic#archive of our own
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