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vipetas · 1 month

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i. the radio's revival

The worst possible scenario just unfolded before Alastor's eyes—his beloved antique radio broke.

He stood in stunned silence, his usual jovial expression replaced by one of utter disbelief as the once-majestic device now lay in pieces, its intricate components scattered across the floor. With a heavy heart, he knelt beside the shattered remnants, his gloved fingers tracing the familiar contours with a sense of mourning.

It was a futile gesture, he knew, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss for the part of himself that had been taken away with it. For Alastor, the radio was more than just a mere object; it was a piece of his identity. Each scratch, each dent held a story, a memory of a bygone era that now lay at ruins at his feet.

In that moment, he felt more vulnerable than ever before, stripped of the facade of invincibility he had carefully cultivated over decades. However, as he surveyed the damage, the vulnerability was quickly replaced by a flood of other emotions–anger, frustration, disappointment. How could something so precious, so irreplaceable, be lost in an instant?

The faint sound of shuffling feet then drew his attention. As he gazed up, one of the egg boys—those bumbling, loyal lackeys of Sir Pentious—timidly stepped forward with a sheepish expression.

“Uh, sorry about that, mister Radio Demon, sir. It was an accident,” the egg boy mumbled, his voice tinged with guilt.

Alastor's eye twitched in annoyance at the feeble excuse. Accidents were one thing, but this? This was inexcusable. His patience, already stretched thin, threatened to snap as he struggled to contain his frustration.

“Sorry?” Alastor repeated through gritted teeth. “Sorry won’t fix what’s been broken, now will it?”

The egg boys exchanged nervous glances, their carefree demeanor faltering under Alastor's withering gaze. “We didn't mean to, Mr. Alastor,” another one of them stammered.

Yet it was far too late for apologies. Alastor's frustration bubbled over like a pot ready to boil, and with a growl of irritation, his form began to shift. With each passing second, his horns extended, his body swelled in size, and his once elegant silhouette towered over the trembling egg boys like a vengeful deity.

The egg boys recoiled in terror, their eyes wide with horror as they watched Alastor's transformation unfold before them. In their panicked mind, they could only imagine the worst—that Alastor, in his fury, would devour them whole.

Just as their fear reached its peak, Sir Pentious burst onto the scene. Positioning himself between the egg boys and the Radio Demon, his voice rang out in a chorus of apologies.

“Mr. Alastor, sir, I must beg for your forgiveness on behalf of my hapless egg boys,” he pleaded desperately. “They meant no harm, I assure you. It was a mere accident, a foolish mistake!”

Alastor's gaze narrowed as he observed Sir Pentious. As the snake demon continued to shower him with apologies, Alastor suddenly remembered the reason they were all gathered here in the first place—a party, of all things. With a wry smile, he glanced around at the other residents of the hotel, noting the fear etched onto their faces. The sight of their unease might've amused him under different circumstances, but the loss of something so precious to him soured his mood.

With a shake of his head, he allowed his form to shrink back to its normal size. As his horns receded and his imposing presence diminished, he felt the tension ebb from his body, the anger gradually fading away.

But that didn’t mean that all was forgiven.

“What, pray tell, am I supposed to do with my broken radio now?” Alastor's voice dripped with barely contained frustration as he shot a piercing gaze at Sir Pentious.

Sir Pentious, visibly sweating under the weight of Alastor's glare, scrambled to offer a solution. “Ah, well, fear not,” he stuttered, his words coming out in a nervous rush. “I happen to know a mechanic—a fixer, if you will. Someone who can repair anything, no matter how... delicate.”

Alastor's eyebrow arched in skepticism, though a faint flicker of interest danced in his eyes. "Is that so?" he mused, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He had his doubts about Sir Pentious' ability to deliver on such a promise, but at this point, he was willing to entertain any possibility.

“And where can I find this mechanic of yours?”

Following the instructions scribbled hastily on the back of a crumpled receipt, Alastor eventually found himself in the slums of Pentagram City. The narrow alleyways led him to what appeared to be a workshop, its exterior bearing the signs of neglect and decay. The windows were grimy, patches of paint flaked off the weathered walls, and the sign above the entrance barely hung on by a single rusty nail.

It was a far cry from the elegance he was accustomed to, and he couldn't help but feel a familiar surge of anger rising within him. This was the place that was supposed to hold the solution to his problem? The Radio Demon scoffed inwardly, doubting that anyone within these walls possessed the skill or expertise to repair something as delicate as his beloved radio.

Still, he pressed on. Pushing open the creaking door, he was met with a gust of stale air, tinged with the scent of oil and metal. Inside, the workshop was a scene of disarray. Tools lay scattered across workbenches, and half-finished projects cluttered every available surface. The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with spare parts, some of which appeared to be salvaged from long-forgotten machinery.

Alastor's lips curled into a disdainful sneer as he absorbed the surroundings. Then, his gaze fell upon the lone figure, hunched over a nearby table—you.

As he drew closer, you finally looked up, and to Alastor's surprise, you greeted him with a wide smile.

“Hi there! What can I do for you?”

Alastor's sneer deepened at the sight of the chipper mechanic, a stark contrast to the grim atmosphere of the workshop. He had half-expected to find someone as worn down and weathered as the building itself, yet here stood this bright-eyed individual, seemingly unfazed by the chaos around them.

Suppressing a sigh, Alastor straightened up, the edges of his grin faltering ever so slightly. “Good evening,” he began. “My name is Alastor, and I'm here because I was told you might be able to fix something for me.”

Your smile widened at his words, and you nodded eagerly. “Of course! What seems to be the problem?”

Alastor hesitated for a moment, eyeing you warily. He couldn't shake the feeling that entrusting his precious radio to you was a mistake. Yet, he had little choice in the matter.

“My antique radio is in need of repair,” Alastor explained, his tone guarded. “It's a delicate piece of machinery, and I require someone with the utmost skill to handle it.”

You listened intently as Alastor detailed the intricacies of his radio, nodding along with each word. Despite his cautious demeanor, you could sense the underlying concern in his voice. It was clear that this radio held great significance to him.

As he finished speaking, you gave him another nod. “I understand, Mr. Alastor,” you reassured him. “You won't be disappointed, I promise. Now, let's take a look at what you've got there.”

With that, you gestured for Alastor to follow you to your workbench, where he finally presented the fragmented piece of machinery. As you laid eyes on the broken radio, it became immediately apparent to you just how extensively damaged it was. Fractured casings, tangled wires, missing components–it was a daunting sight, yet you refrained from revealing the true severity of the damage to Alastor, not wanting to add to his distress. Instead, you maintained a composed demeanor as you turned to look at him with a confident grin.

“We'll get this sorted out, Mr. Alastor,” you assured him once more. “Leave it to me.”

Alastor felt a flicker of hope stir in his blackened heart at the prospect of having his radio fixed. Though a hint of doubt still lingered at the back of his mind, he nodded begrudgingly.

“Very well," he muttered. "Just... be careful with it.”

As Alastor stepped back, allowing you the space to work your magic, his eyes remained fixed on you with keen interest. He observed the fluidity of your movements, the subtle shifts in your expression. Whenever you encountered a challenge, your brows furrowed in concentration, and with each successful repair, a hint of satisfaction graced your lips. Alastor found himself unconsciously mirroring your expressions as he watched your steady hands diligently work to bring his beloved radio back to life.

And as time passed, so too did his initial skepticism begin to wane, replaced by a growing sense of admiration for your skill and expertise. There was something captivating about the way you worked, a sense of determination and passion that shone through with every meticulous movement.

At last, after what felt like an eternity, you made the final adjustment. With bated breath, you flicked the switch and awaited the outcome. The room fell into a tense silence, thick with anticipation. Then, suddenly, a burst of static erupted, followed by the unmistakable sound of music emanating from the speakers.

Alastor's eyes widened in disbelief as the once-silent device surged back to life. Your face lit up with a triumphant smile as you savored his reaction, a sense of pride swelling within you.

“There you go, Mr. Alastor,” you declared, extending the repaired radio toward him. “Good as new!”

As Alastor reached out to accept the radio from you, his fingers inadvertently brushed against yours in a fleeting moment of contact. In that instant, a jolt of electricity seemed to course through him, sending a distinct shiver down his spine.

It was a curious sensation, one that he couldn't quite place, yet it stirred something deep within him.

Even after withdrawing his hand, the feeling lingered, leaving Alastor perplexed. His gaze shifted from the repaired radio to your face, searching for any indication that you too had felt the same inexplicable energy pulse between you. However, your smile remained unchanged, oblivious to the tumult of emotions swirling within him.

“Thank you,” he finally murmured, his voice softer than usual, betraying a hint of sincerity that caught even him off guard. “You did a remarkable job.”

You beamed in response, your eyes alight with satisfaction at Alastor's words. “You're welcome,” you replied gently. “I'm glad I could be of help. And remember, if you ever need anything else, you know where to find me.”

Alastor offered a subtle nod of gratitude, though inwardly, he found himself oddly reluctant to leave. Nevertheless, he tucked the repaired radio under his arm and turned on his heel, heading towards the door. Stepping out into the dimly-lit street, he walked with deliberate steps. His thoughts drifted back to the moment his fingers brushed against yours, and despite his attempts to push the memory aside, his free hand instinctively flexed, fingers curling into a tight fist before relaxing once more.

This was going to be a problem.

part i / part ii

thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed<3

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor/reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel fluff #part 2?

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getosbigballsack · 1 month

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Random Thought! Geto's is jealous because Gojo had sex with you.

Ps: I wrote this as one of the drafts for @noroi1000 , but I never liked it for her, so I scraped it and wrote something completely different.

Nothing hurts more than finding out that your best friend broke the “bro code” just to have his stupid fantasies fulfilled. That’s how Geto Suguru felt when he caught his best friend Gojo Satoru having sex with you.

He promised, they both promised not to have romantic feelings for you or to be in any form of sexual intimate relationship with you. Why? Simply because you’re also their best friend and you know that they have a track record of being whores since high school.

So Geto thought it would’ve been best to keep you out of that part of their lives. And even if they both had feelings for you, it would be best to love you from afar, rather than to be selfish only to end up hurting you in the end.

But I guess those were false promises coming from the lying lips of Gojo. Those same lying lips he saw stealing kisses whenever Gojo thought that he wasn’t looking. Those same lying lips that decorates your neck with nothing but love bites, those same lying lips he saw eating you up on the bed, the night he caught Gojo having sex with you.

He can still remember the sound of your voice cursing Gojo’s name, moaning so sweetly for Gojo as the white haired man eats you out as though you were going to be the last meal for a long time.

Call him a pervert for standing at the door for as long as he did, watching the sight unfold before him. Gojo’s hand sliding up your shirt, tweaking your nipples, pinching the pebbled bud to have you arching your back into Gojo’s hand.

Those dainty little hands of yours that would so often braid his hair were now grabbing Gojo’s hair and scraping at Gojo’s scalp. He knew how soft your hand was, so he could only imagine the sheer amount of pleasure it feels to have his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

None of you were aware that he saw that night, but you’ve both noticed how cold he was towards Gojo and how distant he became with you.

You tried asking him, you did tried, but all you ever get in response was the light shrug in his shoulders before turning and leaving you to go fuck off with one of his many one night stands. It didn’t bother you that much that he would leave you for a hookup. At this point, you were used to it.

But it did bother you very much whenever he was in a mood with you, and you had no clue what made him that way. Unlike you, though, Gojo had an idea as to why Geto was cold towards him, but he kept it to himself, in fear that he could have been wrong.

Weeks turned into two months since Geto had found out that Gojo broke the ‘bro code’ and slept with you, and his behavior towards you both has not changed one bit. If anything, he was even more cold towards Gojo, and Geto would just completely ignore your presence despite the three of you sharing an apartment together.

Though it still hurts that your best friend stopped talking to you. You’ve learned how to deal with it and just stayed focused on your relationship with Gojo. You guys weren’t dating as yet, and you are still having a bit of fun and going on dates. Gojo would buy you gifts, flowers, and lots of tasty food. He’ll take you out during the day when Geto wasn’t home and spend a night or two with you between the sheets in a hotel.

Gojo was having a great time with you, too. Breaking that so-called promise with his best friend has done him now better than harm. He was happy to be around someone who genuinely had strong intimate feelings for him. It made him feel thing he had never felt before, and fuck everyone else, Geto too because he’d be damn if he allowed anything to ruin what you both had going on.

It was only a matter of time before Gojo officially made you his girlfriend. He was just waiting for the right moment.

That moment is when Geto decides to cut the crap and speak his mind.

#gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #geto smut #geto suguru #jjk geto #suguru geto #getou suguru smut #geto x reader

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darklinsblog · 3 months

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Blinding Ire | Mattheo Riddle

Summary: Mattheo couldn’t bring himself to admit his feelings for the Hufflepuff girl, but as Goyle puts his hands on her, his anger got the best of him.

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff! Reader

Warnings: Harrasement, mentions of physical assault

A/N: Couldn’t Shake the thought off of my head so here it is

As an Scamander and coming from a long line of outstanding wizards you truly wore your family’s name with pride. You had half of Hogwarts crushing and drooling to your feet, you were breath taking gorgeous, smart and everyone just wanted to be around you.

Mattheo Riddle was no other than a polar opposite, smug, cold in his demeanor, borderline arrogant and self-centered but he would be lying if he said you did not catch his eye.

But he did not allow himself to pursue you actively, he couldn’t explain it, but when it came to you his confidence flew out the fucking astronomy tower. He could barely put together a whole sentence.

To your understanding, Mattheo was just reserved, so his sharpness when talking didn’t cut through you.

Something nobody seemed to know was that Goyle had been stalking you for months now, at first you thought it was a simple crush but it started escalating as he began following you around the corridors, sneaking into your dorm when you were in class and stealing your personal belongings.

Honestly, it started being unsettling how unsafe you felt, but you didn’t have the courage to speak up. Goyle could just throw money onto the whole situation and make it go away and in the end, you would be the one to blame.

Perhaps you should have spoken up, but you thought it was better to not make a fuss, involve the families and make a scandal that would follow your moves like the ghosts at Hogwarts.

Right now, you were in Class for Care Of Magical Creatures and Goyle was slowly and carefully making his way to you, whilst you graciously scurried away, Mattheo noticed this, making his eyebrows raise and his eyes narrowed distrusting.

But just then Hagrid gave you the instructions to go seek for food for the Fire Crab, the group broke apart and you went your way,focusing solely on the assignment at hand, allowing yourself to enjoy nature until you began hearing footsteps behind you.

“Hello?” You called out but there were no answers other than the crackles of branches, leaves and the wind. “Anyone there?!”

Nothing.

You took a deep breath and walked a few steps before a hand covered your mouth, you screamed and squirmed away. Suddenly, you were spooned around to find Goyle looking at you with crazy eyes.

“G-Goyle?” You spoke trembling, he stepped closer to you and you flinched back

“Bloody hell you are never gonna love me, are ya?” His tone was dark and as he keep stepping closer until you decided to take a leap and started running away into the woods feeling your heart pounding.

But Goyle tackled you to the ground, pinning you down onto the soil as you tried to break free but it was useless, he was twice your size, holding you so roughly you were certain your wrists were near to crack in two.

“HELP! PLEASE HELP!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as the tears started rolling down your face.

“SHUT IT!” He screamed in your face half-panicking and just as he raised his hand, ready to slap you across the face, his hand caught mid-air.

In the blink of an eye Goyle was off you and as you were now free from danger, you noticed the image of none other than Mattheo Riddle punching Goyle straight in his face, making blood pour out of his nose.

Although , Goyle could land a few punches that would too, cause harm, Mattheo was a raging bull, there was no way of stopping his ire.

You sat there completely out of it, as you watch the scene unfold, but you wanted to do something, anything to stop Mattheo from getting more hurt or in trouble for defending you, but your body was utterly unresponsive to your heart desires.

The commotion was so big the whole class catch up to the woods, you saw how Theodore, Draco and Lorenzo force him up. Yet, he was fighting them off trying to finish what he started.

“IF YOU FUCKING LAY A FINGER ON HER EVER AGAIN I WILL AVADA KEDAVRA YOUR ASS!” He roared.

“OI! Let’s not get carried away, will ya?” Hagrid said rapidly, trying his best to get a hold of such disaster.

Then, at such words, a switch light up in Mattheo’s brain, he looked in your direction and you were still sat down, with your back resting against a tree and your eyes wondering into absolute nowhere.

The Riddle boy approached you calmly, even with his clothes stained with the blood of his numerous injuries, somehow he projected an oddly reassuring calmness as his eyes found yours.

“Y/N you-“ he started questioning you but was quickly caught off guard by you launching into his arms and holding onto him for dear life.

He was taken back for a moment before slowly embracing you as you clawed onto the fabric of his shirt

“Thank you, thank you, thank you…” you kept mumbling in his ear as you cried, and even though your hug was doing no good to his bruises and fresh wounds, he could not have given less of a flying fuck.

Because in that moment, his only purpose was to ensure you felt safe. So much so, that he refused to leave your side as you went to the hospital wing, you were just checked up and asked about what happened, while Mattheo acted as if you were the one injured, constantly asking if you were okay.

After you were let go off, you visited Mattheo’s bed, he was freshly patched up and his eyes lighted up at the sight of you, he had a charming smile plastered on his face that almost made you forget his cuts and dry blood.

“Hi” you greeted him softly.

“Hey” you played with your fingers nervously, as the heat creeped up your cheeks, not knowing what to say. Whilst Mattheo soaked in the sight of you completely mesmerized.

“Does it hurt?” You asked inspecting his face and he shook his head.

“I’ve gotten used to it. Don’t sweat it, sweet girl” he shrugged, you smiled softly and Mattheo realized he had called you sweet girl without thinking of it.

“As grateful as I am I would appreciate you, not disfiguring your face in my behalf, Mattheo” you joked making him laugh.

“Why’s that?” He asked curiously stepping closer to you.

“You might have a nice face to look at” you teased, nuzzling his cheek with your index finger softly, your touch was so gentle and mindful it was practically impossible to explain how he felt his skin burst into flames.

“Might? That hurt, Scamander”

“You’ll survive, Riddle”

You were both smiling and there was a moment of absolute silence before his eyes softened.

“You sure you’re alright? Say the word and he’s dead” he said with mischief but you knew he meant it and it was an odd feeling to know someone was willing to kill for you. Especially if that someone was Mattheo Riddle.

“What? Are you in love with me or something?” You joked nervously, he did not crack a smile, but you could see something clicked inside him as he looked at you dead in the eye.

“Yes” you were surprised as he answered you without hesitation and you just kissed him, finding words wouldn’t cut it, this boy was your biggest crush for years and he had just saved you from an ugly situation, kept you safe and confessed his feelings, you would be dammed if you let that go.

#mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle imagine #slytherpuff #slytherin boys #hogwarts #goyle #gregory goyle #hufflepuff reader #hufflepuff #Tom #tom riddle #lorenzo berkshire #draco malfoy #theodore nott

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anantaru · 4 months

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SWEET, TASTY, DELICIOUS, MH! + WRIOTHESLEY

wriothesley was just so insatiable when he got in between your thighs. wc. 700

・✶ ｡ warnings — oral (fem! receiving), softdom! wrio, petname: doll, baby, fem! reader

wriothesley believes you might just be the most delicious thing he's ever tasted before— and he drops down in between your thighs immediately, in fact, he doesn't need to be told twice, he loves making you feel good and rub his tensed tongue over your folds until you're begging for his cock.

a striking sight, in its majestic setting, was slowly unfolding when you wiggled your hips into his touch— delicately before his charming eyes, putting on a show as the duke believed it must be memorized forevermore, and worshipped until you felt bathed in bliss.

his hands were soft when they settled on your behind when he leans into it, his palms pressing heavy against your ass to move you into the position he desired you to be. "i will be gentle, always," wriothesley catches your eyes, "you ready, doll?" his words fan against the soft skin as you nod back at him.

a dozen of tiny little sparks streak right to your clit as he plants the first kiss on the excited nerves, the jolt of his plump lips on top of you materialize a heat from your pores, your back arching up as he licks you after yet another wet kiss— his large hands manhandling you up and down his mouth as he flicks his head left and right to splatter his spit all over your pussy.

having wriothesley so close to where you wanted him to be was to die for, in fact, you were awaiting this moment all day, not hesitating for a second as you parted your legs and braced yourself for how well he wanted to wrack your body tonight.

"come on now," his drowsy eyes glance up to you, and they held a spark within their expression, his entire tongue pushed out as he scans it over your pussy— allowing the pink muscle to nudge the sensitive knot so you could jolt up into his face and practically suffocate him with your thighs.

"fuck— shit, you can do it, baby," you watch his face before lacing your fingers into his gelled hair, caressing his scalp softly, a low groan flying from his mouth as you tug and twist his strands to push him deeper into your cunt. "fuck— baby," wriothesley whines, his noises breathless and needy before he drags his tongue between your folds where he attacks your sore clit, leisurely wrapping his plump lips around the nerves before toying with it.

you love how good it feels— how good he felt, and your nails were plunging into his skull while pushing him to stay right on your cunt— the knot in your stomach strengthening as you lose a hold of your hips, the repeated twitches and quivers due to the overstimulation being too difficult to control anymore.

wriothesley felt so sticky in between your thighs— and he really has no idea on just how desperate he looked right now, helplessly showing how insatiable he could become whenever you grind down on his tongue so your lewd scent would overturn his own.

and you realize that he welcomed the mess he made, always, it's when the humidity of his breath heavily slaps your clit that you're shuddering under his scorching-hot tongue— his face burned when he loses himself between the squelching noises and your pretty whines, and the bucks of his nose burying itself into your clit sends you deeper towards the edge.

his skin held a cherry red wine like the one you drink on important evenings, one you share between passionate lovers, from his cheeks to his neck— and there's a thin glow of what seemed like sweat glossed over his forehead when he digs deeper, curls his tongue down to insert it in your hole, needing more, yearning for more, filthier, please make it filthier.

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x you #genshin x you #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact x you #genshin drabbles #genshin x y/n

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dorcas4meadowes · 4 months

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Blood bending - Luke Castellan

Pairing - Luke Castellan x Fem!Poseidonreader (yes persassy)

Summary: watching avatar the last Airbender, but it's just giving Percy ideas on how to hurt Luke <3

(My bsf gave me the head canon and had to execute it)

warning: mentions of blood

w/c (short) 648

Master list

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Nostalgia endeared the Hermes' cabin, settling amongst the slouching bodies who took closure beside the blaring television. The soft glow that the screen emitted illuminating their tired yet content faces, casting a haze amongst the cabin of travelers.

The day had be tedious and the fatigued residents found solace in the familiarity of Avatar the last air bender, the show reminiscing through their adolescence.

As the final notes of the departure theme begun to unfold many moved from their strategically placed pillows and forts of blankets to take advantage of the interval. Numerous of the smaller Hermes' children retreating to their beds with heavy yawns and blankets draped over their shoulders. The remainder of inhabitants consisted of the older counsellors, except for a disappointed blonde who sat with his arms folded over one another with a disgruntled expression on his face.

He could not relish in the show for as long as the couple adjacent to him continued to be happy.

He made you laugh? The guy with the personality of wet cabbage, Percy thought as Luke - your boyfriend of 2 months - whispered something into you ear which made you helpless giggle. Percy rolled his eyes and tried to divert his attention away from Luke, focusing on the scent of buttery popcorn which wafted across the room and then in an instant, a sinister thought crossed his mind.

You had caught your breath from Lukes words and let yourself relax against him as one of his arms loosely hung around your middle, his other intertwined with your fingers which rested against his leg. You mumbled mindlessly until something caught your gaze, your brother.

"Can you see what Perce is doing", you asked Luke since your head were mainly stowed into the side of your boyfriend.

"I don't exactly know?" he responded, which made you lift away to watch Percy abide to be a buffoon.

He subtly gestured with his fingers to mimic water bending moves he had seen and then you knew what he was trying to do as his eyes bored into Luke's.

"Baby, he trying to blood bend" you said with ease, glancing back to Luke who didn't move from his spot, an amused smile playing on his lips.

"He can't do that right?" he questioned.

"He wouldn't have the control", you responded.

"Can you?"

"Yes" you mumbled, avoiding the question.

"On who?" he asked.

"That is none of your concern".

Instead of bending Luke's insides, Percy knocked over a bottle of water which sat on the coffee table, spilling its contents across the surface, a laugh falling from your lips.

"Percy its not going to work" you snickered, softening back into your boyfriends arms.

"How do you know?" he inquired, moving his fingers once again.

"You need to be calm".

"I am calm".

"Yes very" Luke intervened.

"Shut up Castellan" he yelled.

"Percy Jackson, do not scream at my boyfriend".

"He deserves it".

"Right i'm calling Sally" you threatened, but before you could stand he begun to apologise immensely. "Not to me, to Luke".

He appeared revolted, his cheeks turning a dark hue of red, "sorry" he whispered.

"Louder".

"Sorry" he said, quieter than the first time.

"Thank you Percy" Luke said beside you, accepting the deflated confession.

"What would you have done anyways Perce?" you asked him. You watched him think about ways he could injure your boyfriend, his features forming a smile.

Throw him into a fire?

Make him spill water on himself?

Drown him?

He could do the last one simply without bending his blood so instead of replying he made a list of potential ways he could hurt your boyfriend, the repetitive thoughts of violence lulling him to sleep against the couch underneath him.

You allowed him to rest until it was only Luke and yourself on the couches. After a few complaints about the sound from the television you stood and let your boyfriend walk you back to your cabin, with a snoozing Percy resting against him in his arms.

"He's cute when he's asleep".

“When he isn’t trying to drown you”.

#luke castellan imagines #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo x you #pjo x reader #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #persassy #riawrites

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hurthermore · 1 month

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Hello! How are you doing?

May I ask for NSFW Alastor x virgin f!reader who is nervous about having sex for the first time? Maybe with some soft Alastor with lots of praise?

Thank you so much and have a great day!!

»»------► 𝚅𝚒𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚗 (18+)

Pairing: 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Warnings: 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚟𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎/𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗, 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚏 :𝙳

𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚘𝚌 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙱𝚄𝚃 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙰𝙲𝚃𝚂 𝙰 𝙱𝙸𝚃 𝙾𝙾𝙲 𝙰𝚃 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴𝚂 𝚂𝙾 𝙱𝚄𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴 𝚄𝙿 𝙱𝚄𝙲𝙺𝙾

A/N: 𝙸'𝚖 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜! 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝙵 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂𝙴?! 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎??

You were, in simple terms, nervous. Not so much due to the act of sex, but because it was your wedding night, and you, along with Alastor, were inexperienced in such intimate acts. It didn’t help how your insecurities on the subject only heightened your fears.

But the way he kissed you as you laid beneath him, seeping his tongue in between your lips, tasting every part of your mouth as his hands gripped and gnawed at the skin of your hips and the under cup of your breast had your head spinning.

Your face flushed as your newly wed husband pulled away from you, his eyes swirling with lust and admiration- love, in fact. His lips brushed against the skin of your cheek before he straightened his back, gazing at the sight of you beneath him. You could feel his hardened cock grind against your clothed core as he let out controlled huffs of air; his eyes glazing over your almost naked form as you only attired what was left after he had removed your wedding dress long ago.

It was so strange seeing him this way; being so used to him presenting himself as a composed and calculated gentleman, it was baffling how undone and eager he looked. But then again, he was always inclined to show the deeper parts of his soul to you like his soft, caring and protective nature. No one else had that privilege. And this was just a new part he was permitting you to appreciate.

“My darling wife,” His fingers fondled the strap of your brassiere as he spoke in a whispered tone that was lower than usual. His breath, hot and heavy, surging pleasant convulsions through your body. “I want to ravish you.” Allowing his hips to roll into yours, you moaned.

Placing your hands along the toned flesh of his stomach as he slipped the fabric off your shoulder, you bit your lip. You wanted this so much; you craved it. But you felt so anxious about the events that were to unfold. “I’m nervous, Alastor.” Your voice trembled, causing him to halt all movements instantly.

Fearing you had ruined the moment, you tried to backtrack, only to have Alastor caress your face, ceasing you from speaking. “We can stop, if that is what you wish, darling.” He gave you an out, a very gracious one considering you could feel how much he wanted to continue.

You shook your head before furrowing your eyebrows. Lifting your arms, you slowly placed your hands on his shoulders. It was a privilege you relished in, being able to approach and physically touch the man that was Alastor. You were his love, afterall; someone who attained the entirety of his heart.

He would give you everything he had to offer.

Staring into his eyes, your lips pursed. “I want you, more than anything. I’m just nervous.” Your fingers twitched against his shoulders as you confessed in a whisper.

You watched as he groaned from your words. Getting the green light to continue, he leaned in as he kissed you with a gentleness that was breathtaking. Sighing abstractedly, you deepened the kiss, moving your hands to cup your husband's face as you opened your lips ever so slightly, permitting Alastor to creep his tongue into your mouth once again.

The way his tongue lavished the innards of your mouth had you grinding your slicked core against his. He could feel it; the lubrication of your cunt soaking his pants, and the touch of his hand squeezing the fat of your hip only made your arousal peak. You felt consumed by him; by Alastor. Your husband.

As your tongues intertwined, you jumped ever so slightly as his fingers pressed against your opening. You hadn’t even felt him snake his hand underneath your lingerie. Letting out soft moans as Alastor began to pet your clit; kneading it in circles, his heavy kisses became messier.

It was a sensation you weren’t expecting, but felt so good. You could feel your clit throbbing in unison as he massaged your sex. And as soon as his fingers entered inside of you, you began to moan heavily against Alastors mouth. How did it feel so electrifying? He hadn’t even started; hadn’t even pulled out his own erection yet.

Your heart felt as if it were beating out of your chest as your husband consumed you; giving you a pleasure you had never experienced. His long fingers reached places you couldn’t believe could be reached. And as he repeatedly plunged his fingers in and out of you, splattering your slick along your pelvis, his thumb petted your clit in a mind numbing fashion, causing your thighs to shake. A sensation of pleasure began to electrify every nerve within your system. “Al-” You gasped in between the heated kiss. “I feel-” you moaned louder as he began you fuck his fingers into you harder and harder. “-Weird.”

“Just let yourself go, darling.” He whispered into your ear, his breath reverberating within the canal of your ear. “My perfect little wife, cum on my fingers.” His lips kissed the skin of your neck as you felt the pressure of something explode within the covers of your clit. A build up of pleasure coursing through you as Alastor kept his hard pace until you felt every part of your sex snap. Grabbing onto him; you clenched around him tightly. Screaming in pleasure as your husband rode you through your high, not relenting in his pace, making it feel as though the sensation would never end. Until it did.

Your moans of pleasure became silenced into breathy groans as your high ended. Alastor removed his hand from your cunt, only to lick the natural lubricant that your sex produced off of his fingers; drinking the essence your body offered. It made you wetter than the sensations of cumming made you; watching him digest a part of you off his talented fingers. “My pretty little wife, you taste better than anything that can be consumed.”

Oh, my. You couldn’t deal with that kind of talk; it was making you dizzy.

After cleaning his fingers, he placed his fingertips against your lips, urging you to suck them. Parting your lips, you let your tongue swirl over his fingers; you could taste an essence of yourself along with your husband’s spit. Alastor couldn’t seem to stop grinding his hard sex into your cunt that was covered with the now overly damp lingerie as he watched you greedily suck his fingers.

Suddenly, Alastor pulled his fingers from your mouth, only to rush his hands onto the rest of the clothing that covered you from him; ripping the majority into bits in the process. His lips crashed into yours; near enough devouring you like a desperate man that was parched for water. Reciprocating the kiss with as much force, you flung your arms around him. Feeling him taking his cock out, resting the thick and veiny phallic organ heavily on your cunt, you couldn’t prevent the sharp gasp that left your larynx as he rubbed his cock against the folds of your sex.

You weren’t expecting him to be hiding such a big cock behind that thinned waistline, but Alastor never failed to surprise you. Pulling away slightly, you shuddered against your lover. “Will you be gentle, Alastor?” You whispered.

Looking into your eyes, you could only see pure love and devotion in your husband's lustful gaze. You felt safe. “My sweet wife, I will always be gentle with you. I could never hurt you.” He whispered against your lips. “Not unless you begged me to.” He bit your bottom lip; but not hard enough to pierce before moving to kiss the corner of your lip.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, darling.” Alastor mumbled against your skin. You nodded before the tip of his cock began penetrating your walls. Gripping your nails into the skin of his shoulders, grounding yourself as he continued to push himself further and further within your gummed walls. It hurt- ever so slightly as he slowly pushed his way in, but the pleasure that derived from his heavy sex massaging your inner walls outweighed the pain it inflicted.

Feeling him bottom out, you moaned. “You’re so perfect,” Alastor groaned, flushing his hips back slowly before bottoming out again. “My perfect wife. My wife. All mine.” Hearing him grunt those words of possession made your toes curl and your moans grow louder. His pace gradually increasing, the slapping of your skin as he fucked into you echoed against the walls along with your cries of your husband’s name.

“Tell your husband how much you want him.” Alastor groaned as his thrusts opted for fucking you harder than faster; making you jolt with every press. You mumbled, trying to coherent a sentence; trying to make your husband's wish come true. But he was fucking you dumb, fucking a pleasure that was tenfold what his fingers were able to achieve. “Come on, my beautiful little wife. Tell me.”

How was he able to talk so organised whilst he panted, whilst the sweat from his forehead began to drip onto you as he fucked you? You were almost dizzy from his thrusts; almost comatose. “I want you-” You let out a wanton moan. “I want-” Another moan. “My husband-” You cried out as his cock seemed to drive into you even further.

His teeth bared, and you swore you could see him fucking blushing. His groans croaked out of his throat; his Adam's apple moving along with his song of sex. “Fuck.” He grunted as his pace became faster, causing that electrifying sensation you experienced earlier to build up again.

He became relentless, pushing his whole body against you as his arms wrapped around your back, lifting you up slightly as he rutted himself further and further inside you. All you could hear was him mumbling words of possession into your ear. “My wife, mine.” On repeat. It made you convulse, forcing your cunt to spasm from another peak. Screaming his name, Alastor pushed himself so far you could feel his tip press against your cervix before he stilled. His breaths uneven as he groaned in your ear, you could feel his ejaculation as his cum splattered the walls of your sex.

You relaxed as he refused to leave the warmth of your cunt, your vision blurred as all you could see was your loving husband.

“You’re perfect, my darling wife.”

»»------► 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

#alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor x you #reader insert #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #smut

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cordeliawhohung · 1 month

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here's that one ghoap x reader one shot i had posted the idea for a bit ago

johnny has an easy smile and an aura that tells you he wants something significantly more than just his pleasure alone. it isn't until he's got you face first in the mattress that you realize you've bitten off more than you can chew.

cw: alcohol, smut (oral f!receiving, unprotected p in v) consensual to dub-con, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, slight dumbification of johnny

2.4k

Usually, you never gave your name out so easily to any man who sauntered up to you at the bar, but something was different about this one. Maybe it was because of that odd glint in his eyes; a deep rooted lust poorly obscured by a pretty blue tint. Maybe it was because he looked terribly lost in a very cute way, like a puppy trying to find its owner. Whatever it was, it had your name rolling off your tongue faster than you could stop it, and it made the vodka in your drink taste as sweet as syrup.

His name was Johnny, and he had an easy smile that was too contagious for you to even attempt to keep up your stone cold expression. He nursed a simple pint, but didn’t seem nearly as interested in it as he was you. For all his smooth words and sharp wit, he didn’t seem to concern himself at all with attempting to hide the fact he had been undressing you with his eyes for the last half hour. The only reason you even allowed him to do so was because how warm it made you feel, rather than disgusting and violated. It was almost like a promise he was looking for something far greater than his own pleasure that night.

Eventually your drink went down as easy as water and everything else began to melt away. The dim glow of the ambient lighting made Johnny appear even more alluring as he entertained you with some outlandish story that you were certain was mostly made up, but you didn’t care. He was nice to look at, and as you smiled and nodded along with his words you couldn’t help but wonder if his hair was as soft as it looked.

“Wanna get out of here?” he suddenly suggested after you both were several drinks in.

His proposition nearly had you laughing, and had it been any other man on any other night you certainly would have. As cute as Johnny was, it was impossible to deny the sweet puppy charm he had about him, and you didn’t know why it lured you in as well as it did. Visions of what could possibly wait for you that night began to unfold in your mind, and you found your hips shifting on the stiff barstool as your eyes flickered to the stubble on his jaw. You wondered how that stubble would feel on the insides of your thighs.

“I don’t know…” you pondered, but your tone was far from sure. If anything, it was tempting; as if you wanted him to try and push more.

“You sure?” he questioned with a raised brow.

Before your reply could leave your lips, Johnny stole your breath away with a single brush of his fingers against your thighs. It all seemed a little juvenile, being touched in a bar as if you were two horny teens who couldn’t keep your hands to yourselves. Still, you would be lying if you said you didn’t want him to push just a little further as his hands grabbed the meat of your inner thigh like he claimed a prize.

“Don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

What exactly transpired after he said that phrase that had your lips crashing against his was something you couldn’t quite recall, but you quickly realized you didn’t really care. The sour taste of beer was hot on your tongue as your thumb rubbed against the stubble on his jaw. He was the most intoxicating thing you had on your lips that night, and when his teeth nipped at you, you knew there was no way you could ever say no to his proposition.

As Johnny pulled out of that sloppy, drunken kiss, you didn’t take notice of the way his eyes flickered away from you. You didn’t realize how his attention landed on a large, looming figure that sat tucked away at one of the tables in the far side of the room. While the man’s face was shrouded with a silly skull mask, his gaze spoke volumes; it screamed something that Johnny had been craving that entire night.

Approval.

As it would turn out, there were plenty of things you didn’t notice that night. You didn’t notice the two pairs of boots by Johnny’s front door, or how their sizes were so different. You didn’t notice how his bedsheets had the faint aroma of cigarettes woven in the fabric despite the fact you had not tasted a hint of tobacco on his lips when you kissed him. Or maybe you did notice and you just didn’t care. It was difficult to care about anything with Johnny’s face buried in your cunt.

The sound of his moans rivaled that of your own, and it was downright obscene when accompanied by the wet smacking of his lips on your clit. He ate you out with a fervor you had never experienced with any other man, like he attempted to unravel you with his tongue alone. When your fingers weaved through the thick strands of his hair, that only seemed to prod him to do more. He sunk two thick fingers into your cunt and relished with a guttural groan at how your muscles squeezed at him.

With his fingers and tongue working in tandem, it didn’t take you long to come. That blistering heat tore through your body with vicious revenge. Johnny’s chuckle got lost in the heat of your skin as he eventually weaned himself off of your cunt and planted a trail of kisses up your body until he reached your lips once more. You could tell by the way his tongue slipped into your mouth that he was far from finished with you, and so when you felt his hands on your hips gently prompting you to turn over, you didn’t fight him on it.

Your hands and knees sunk into the mattress as you did your best to put on a show for Johnny. Back arched, ass up in the air, hips swaying side to side as if he needed any further enticing. His hands palmed and squeezed at your ass while he pressed himself against you. The fabric of his jeans felt odd and rough against your cunt — as Johnny was too impatient to taste you in order to take them off — yet you grinded back against him anyway.

“Gorgeous,” he cooed. Rustling clothes sounded behind you as Johnny worked off his shirt, followed by the metallic zipping of his pants. “Gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy, aye? Wanna see if she feels as good as she tastes.”

Your fingers curled into the bed sheets as Johnny’s cock sunk into you. The thick, wide stretch of him had your mind running blank. Even still, your mindless state had your body rocking back against him where you swallowed the rest of his length whole with a wanton whine. Johnny’s fingers dug into your hips at the stimulation, and you could feel the aching want exude from his body; as if he had to hold himself back lest he rip you to shreds like a badly behaved dog.

“Bleeding Christ,” he hissed, hips grinding against yours. “She feels so good, bonnie. So fuckin’ good.”

When Johnny’s hips pulled back just to slam against yours again, you knew you weren’t going to last long. With your nerves already frayed from your previous orgasm, this upcoming one wasn’t buried deep at all. It was right there, lingering just underneath your skin with its tendrils snaking up towards your mind, smothering any coherent thought you attempted to conjure. There was no need for rational thinking, anyway. Why would you need to question the heavy approaching footsteps or the dark rumbling chuckle behind you?

“Bein’ good, Johnny?”

The voice that spoke was unfamiliar, and it certainly didn’t belong to Johnny. The deep baritone of it caused your breath to hitch in your throat, yet it was impossible to hold back your moans as Johnny continued to fuck you like it was no big deal.

“Of course I am,” Johnny panted in response, “just listen to her.”

“Not good enough to wait for me,” the man countered.

“Couldn’t wait. Not when she was sittin’ so pretty f’me.”

No, something was wrong. Someone else was there with you, watching as Johnny fucked you into the mattress like an animal. As a wave of panic settled in your chest, you pushed against the bed as you attempted to look over your shoulder, yet it was of no use. Johnny’s relentless pace made it impossible to do anything but slip and slide forward until your face was nearly being smothered into the pillows.

“Johnny?” you asked, voice pitchy and raw.

“Right here, bonnie,” he replied as his hands snaked around your front to paw at your chest. “Fuck, you sound so pretty sayin’ my name like that. Not gonna last much longer if you keep talkin’ like that.”

Even if your brain was capable of coming up with a response to his mindless ramblings, your words surely would have gotten caught in your throat as Johnny’s hips suddenly faltered. His body moved away from yours with a slight jerk, as if someone had yanked on his head, but you could still feel his pathetic attempts to pump his cock into you as he whimpered.

“Nuh uh,” the new man — whatever his name was — chastised. “You don’t get to come until she does, yeah?”

Johnny’s forehead suddenly crashed against your back as his thrusts picked up pace once again. The hands that were pawing at your chest quickly wandered down to your clit, and your body nearly convulsed at the violent stimulation. You gasped as you tried to rip his hand off of you while the tingling sensation of your impending demise started to crack your body to pieces.

“Wait, Johnny please,” you babbled. You didn’t even know what you were trying to ask of him. To stop? To explain who that strange voice belonged to? How were you supposed to get those words out when he fucked you like a wild animal?

“I know, I know,” Johnny shushed. “I just need one more out of ya. One more then Simon will be satisfied. Please, just one more bonnie, s’all I want.”

A part of you wanted to hold back, to deny him that satisfaction, but it was impossible. He had already built you up so high that it was all too easy to kick out the support beams and watch you tumble. Johnny ripped your orgasm from your body with deft hands sending tremors throughout your body that forced your eyes to squeeze shut tight. It was searing — all consuming — like you were now bound to the man who fucked you and the stranger who egged him on.

Johnny’s cock slid out of you once your whining had calmed down, but it wasn’t long before his grunts picked up again. Without his hands to hold your hips in place, you crashed forward onto the mattress with a wince before slowly turning on your back in an attempt to face him.

The view that consumed your vision was enough to stun you into submission. Perspiration coated Johnny’s body with a glistening sheen, and he looked like a god as he sat in front of you on his knees. But he wasn’t alone. A large and brutish man stood at the end of the bed where he held Johnny against his chest by his hair. A black skull-patterned mask obscured his face, but you could make out the darkness of his eyes clear as day as he muttered into the man’s ear. You couldn’t hear what he said over the sound of Johnny’s whining, as the man had his arm snaked around to his front where he tugged at Johnny’s cock using your wetness as lube.

Before you had the chance to muster a single thought, Johnny came undone. His cum spilled out of him in heavy bursts, falling along your thighs and stomach as the man continued to work him through his end. Had you not been so confused and scared, you would have made a face at the odd, sticky feeling that tainted your skin. Instead, you laid there in silence as the man shoved his cum-coated fingers into Johnny’s mouth.

“Such a messy pup,” he hummed while Johnny licked his fingers clean.

When the man turned his attention to you, you wanted to just melt into the bed. To vanish into thin air. To be anywhere else that wasn’t under his gaze. His eyes swept over you in a quick assessment before he pushed Johnny’s head toward you with a simple shove.

“Clean her up,” he ordered.

And he did. Johnny’s feverish tongue lapped along your legs and torso, cleaning up the remnants of his cum on your body. But you didn’t feel clean. You felt dirty and confused; used even.

“Did I do good? I made you come twice, didn’t I? Please tell me I did good, bonnie,” Johnny begged.

With your body cleaned with his tongue, his nose nuzzled against the inside of your neck as he covered your body with his. As an instinct, your arms wrapped around him as if he was the only support you had. If you couldn’t hide away in the bed, then you’d certainly try to hide away under Johnny, as useless as it was. You made the mistake of making eye contact with that stranger, and his eyes looked like a warning. Like you shouldn’t dare to tell Johnny he was anything less than great.

“Y-You did good, Johnny,” you said, voice meek and trembling.

“Did ya hear that, Simon? She said I did good,” Johnny repeated, relishing in your approval. “Thank you, bonnie, thank you…”

The man — Simon? — walked around the edge of the bed to get closer to you and Johnny, and you found your grip on him tightening. That night had seemed like a good idea back at the bar when you were a few drinks in, but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart felt like it tried to tear itself to shreds. Simon reached his hand for the back of Johnny’s head where he gave his hair a good ruffle, yet when he spoke he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

“Good pup.”

#ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghoap x reader smut #cod smut #f!reader

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generalsmemories · 10 months

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Look at me

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: i just wanted to make him jealous.

✧ content: established relationship, fluff, humor, jealousy, most certainly a bit ooc, mentions of other characters

✧ a/n: there's just something about generally calm characters losing their absoute shit that i find endearing. this is the only reason why i put ooc because he is not calm - there's no: let's talk it like adults cause i wanted to go the opposite route.

Jing Yuan doesn’t see himself as a jealous person. He wholeheartedly believes that he doesn’t have time to be jealous. Between daily sparring sessions with Yanqing, meetings with the various commissions that reside within the Luofu and other matters he’s rather appreciative over the fact that you still stay with him, given how little time you two spend together after all.

Jing Yuan is not a jealous person.

But he’s oh so curious why you’ve suddenly decided to adorn a neck scarf on the day that the automatic weather has decided would be a rather hot day abroad the Luofu today. When he first saw it on your neck when you walked out of the bathroom that morning, you had merely waved him off with the mere explanation of: “A change in everyday attire wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?” but still scurried away when he wanted to adjust it.

Jing Yuan wants to remind everyone that he is not a jealous person.

But his eyes narrow a tiny bit when he spots you having a chat with the traveling merchant Luocha at one of the many cafés present at the Exalting Sanctum. The two of you were sitting by a small corner with a parasol shielding you from the sun beaming down at you. Your shoulders are sunken in a relaxed state and there’s a smile grazing your lips. Jing Yuan decides to situate himself at a floor above the two of you, hidden away in plain sight but still able to observe the two of you.

He would like to reiterate that he has had his eyes on Luocha for quite a while too, so this was most certainly just because he wanted to see events that would unfold and hopefully see more sides of this secretive merchant.

He was not spying.

But his fingers stop tapping away on the table in front of him when he sees Luocha reach over the table with a handkerchief and wipe some sweat away close to your neck. You have made no move to pull away when the material made contact with your skin, merely giving a close eyed smile in thanks.

And yet you didn’t even allow him to come close to your neck this morning.

The general hums, propping his right elbow on the railing and resting his cheek on the same hand, shamefully glancing down to where the two of you are sitting to make his presence known. Feeling the eyes boring into his skull, Luocha glances back to make eye contact with the general, quickly looking back at you and muttering a few words. Upon hearing that, you merely heave a sigh and stand up from your chair, bidding Luocha goodbye.

But you didn’t spare your own lover a glance of acknowledgement even. How harsh.

“Not jealous, not jealous,” Jing Yuan finds himself muttering as he walks down the corridor of the Realm keeping commission. When he had inquired Qingzu about your whereabouts, she said that you mentioned taking a trip into the archives for unknown reasons.

When he spots an open door, he glances inside to see your back facing him. Upon glancing over the sign hanging over the door,, he realizes that this is one of the few archives only accessible to a few people, you and him being one of them. It seems you were engrossed in the books content, not having noticed him even stepping foot inside the room.

Jing Yuan thought that upon being in your space again the gnawing feeling inside his chest would disappear. Yet he finds his mood growing worse when he sees you brush your hand behind your neck and he catches a glimpse of the same neck scarf you had previously tied on this morning.

He cannot believe that the ugly feeling in his chest was caused by a scarf.

Trying to calm himself proved to be futile, because he realized that you weren’t scanning over text, rather looking over an old album you had stored away here. Jing Yuan realizes immediately what you’re looking at, or rather who you’re looking at.

And maybe it’s how you have barely paid attention to him today.

Or maybe it’s the way you’ve spent more time with Luocha than him today.

Maybe it’s because of that stupid neck scarf on a hot summer day and the fact he knows you’re hiding something that caused him to behave like this.

But Jing Yuan finds himself taking two large steps towards you before he can stop himself, his left arm worming itself around your waist while he swings his right arm over your front, fingers grasping the knot you had tied at the front and pulling off the scarf you had tied this morning.

His sudden appearance makes you yelp in shock, the book dropping from your hands and the few pictures that you had pulled out of their film paper dropping down to the floor. Jing Yuan glances down at the photo taken, noticing a particular person that has long since disappeared from your life staring back at him with a small smile, “... Me."

“... Look only at me,” he ends up whispering in a muffled tone, having buried his face into the back of your head in growing shame from this childish behaviour of his.

Your eyebrows furrow, turning your head to look at him in confusion, which in turn exposes your neck to Jing Yuan’s eyes. His visible eye widening in shock upon seeing the dark marks littered over your neck and all rationality seems to leave his mind as he spins you around before pinning you to the bookshelf. His thumb and pointer finger squish your cheek together before forcing you to look directly into his own eyes, “Why do you have those marks on your neck?”

He sees clear confusion in your eyes, but before you can try to form any words Jing Yuan is already leaning in to press his lips against your neck. You’re still pretty shocked, and don’t register what’s happening before you feel a sharp pain in your neck, “You idiot- That hurts!” you groan, shoving him away from you while grasping your neck. Jing Yuan doesn’t stumble far back, swiping his tongue over his lips to get rid of the little bit of blood on them.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you ask, covering the wound with a hand to prevent the blood from leaking down to your clothing and Jing Yuan shrugs, “Oh I don’t know dear, you can’t possibly punish me when seeing my own lover covered with hickeys like this on their neck and acting all suspicious the entire day?”

You blink. Once, twice before letting out a disbelieved laugh.

“You.” you press your index finger down hard on his chest numerous times, “Made these.” and then you point at your neck.

It’s Jing Yuan’s turn to be dumbfounded.

“I-” you start with a laugh, “Cannot believe you don’t remember a damn thing from yesterday, were you that drunk?”

Jing Yuan vaguely remembers drinking that night out of boredom. And then flashes of your sweaty body flash through his brain and he blinks at the discovery of what his half drunken self had done the previous night.

“But you didn’t even let me look at-”

“Because usually, you would want to make more of them the moment you first see them after such an evening?” you point out before he can even finish his question, “Your meeting with Luocha-”

“I told you the same day this happened that I would be meeting him to discuss some matters.”

“Oh.”

You sigh, taking a step towards him to wrap your arms around his neck, Jing Yuan turning his head away from you in shame when you grin up at him, “Not that I find the thought that even after hundreds of years I can still make you jealous hot. But it has also been hundreds of years, surely you can stop acting like when we first started dating and ask me directly? Instead of lurking around me all day like a kicked cat or make yourself look a lot creepier to merchants.”

Jing Yuan only grumbles, arms snaking around your waist and dipping his head down to rest on your shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re taking care of the chores for the rest of the week.”

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x you #star rail x reader #hsr x you #jing yuan x reader #x reader #reader insert

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vanteguccir · 27 days

Text

Speak Now | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where it's Y/N's wedding day, but Matt isn't the groom. During the ceremony, an act of impulse on the boy's part changes the fate of everything.

Warning: Slightly angst, but with a happy ending!

Requested?: Yes, by anon.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The cool orange color of the corner lamp lightly illuminated the walls of Matt's room, painting the room with a serene aura. He was still in his bed, mentally preparing himself to get up and start the day slowly, his thoughts still hazy from sleep, a low voice reminding him of the tasks he had to do - writing the script for the next video, answering emails, and posting his collaboration with Prada.

For a moment, he allowed himself to bask in the feeling of tranquility, but that peace was abruptly interrupted when the sound of his bedroom door slamming open echoed through the walls.

Matt turned abruptly to the source of the sound, frowning and opening his mouth to curse whoever had barged into his room so suddenly, but the words caught in his throat when he saw Nick standing there, his eyes wide and his hand holding an envelope tightly.

"Nick, what the fuck?" Matt's voice sounded hoarse and rough from lack of use as his eyes traveled from Nick's face to the envelope and back again.

"Matt... It's from Y/N." Nick muttered apprehensively.

The boy sat down abruptly on the mattress when he heard his ex name, watching Nick slowly approaching and leaving the envelope on the crumpled comforter that covered the younger boy's legs.

"I don't know what it's about, I just found it on the floor in front of the front door."

Matt took the paper delicately, a feeling of apprehension growing in his chest as he recognized Y/N's elegant handwriting on the sender, his own name, and his brother's in the recipient field. His mind wondered why she had sent that, who even sends letters through mail in 2024?

With shaking hands, he tore open the envelope and removed the paper inside, barely noticing Nick's silent exit. His heart sank when he noticed that it wasn't just any paper. It was an invitation... a wedding invitation.

The words printed in embossed letters and in gold color on high quality paper, announcing the day she would become the wife of her current boyfriend, or rather, fiancé.

An overwhelming mix of emotions hit him head-on. Matt gasped, holding the invitation as if it were a precious artifact, but also a knife that pierced his heart. He could feel the bitter taste of regret filling his mouth as his memories with Y/N flooded his mind.

He found himself transported back to the happy days when they were together, each moment shining in vivid colors before his eyes. The shared laughter, the hugs on cold or hot nights, the whispered promises of eternal love... Everything seemed so close, and yet so far away.

Tears threatened to flood his eyes as he struggled to process the magnitude of the situation. He bitterly regretted letting Y/N go, letting his insecurities and fears ruin what they shared. He knew he had no one else to blame but himself for his own loneliness.

A violent internal struggle unfolded within the boy. A part of him wanted to throw the invitation through the window, refuse to witness the ceremony that would tear him up even more inside. But another part, a stubborn and masochistic part, insisted on attending, as if seeing Y/N unite with another man was the punishment he deserved for his failures.

Matt clutched the invitation tightly in his hand, lightly crumpling the expensive paper, feeling fragile and broken. Every beat of his heart echoed with the weight of a decision he didn't know if he was capable of making. He felt the weight of loss pressing down on his shoulders, the pain of a wound that never seemed to heal.

Silent tears streamed down his cheeks as he fought his emotions in turmoil. He loved Y/N more than anything in this world, and even though he had already lost her the day he saw her walk through his bedroom door for the last time, he still held on to the narrow thread of hope he had in him, but now he was in danger of losing her forever, and it tormented him to the core of his soul.

With an anguished sigh, Matt finally let out a choked sob, pressing his hand against his mouth to muffle the ugly sounds, quickly glancing at the door left ajar by Nick. The last thing he wanted was to worry his brothers.

He knew he had no choice but to face the painful reality that Y/N would move on without him. He wished, with all his being, that things could have been different, that he could go back in time and right the wrongs he had made.

But now, all he could do was accept the invitation he held in his trembling hand and prepare to witness the love of his life being given to someone else.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt took a deep breath as he, along with his brothers, entered the imposing church where Y/N's wedding was about to take place. The decor details seemed to jump out, a lush fusion of fresh flowers - Y/N's favorite - and delicate fabrics, creating a fairytale atmosphere, exactly as he and Y/N had fantasized about for so many nights.

The rows of chairs were lined up precisely, each adorned with a floral arrangement. Matt watched the carefully planned details, feeling a pang in his heart.

As he rotated his gaze around the space, his eyes met Y/N's parents accompanied by her fiancé, who was already looking back at the triplets. Matt's eyes widened slightly when he noticed the man open a gentle smile towards him, a strange feeling of resignation and envy flooding him almost automatically.

Victor, who he saw so much of only through Y/N's social media, was tall, with slightly curly brown hair that shone in the light, and vibrant blue eyes that seemed to reflect genuine joy. Matt couldn't help but notice how he perfectly fit the stereotype of the type of man Y/N always seemed to prefer - an observation that left a sour taste in his mouth.

The boy wondered if Y/N really had a specific type or if it was just a coincidence that he and her fiancé shared similar characteristics.

He forced himself to look away, his mind a mess of conflicting emotions and his heart screaming that he should just turn around and go back home. With a resigned sigh, Matt followed his brothers as they found their assigned seats.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt's heart was in turmoil as he anxiously awaited the long-awaited moment of the bride's entrance. His eyes darted nervously around the church, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to control the flood of thoughts that threatened to consume him.

And then, as if time had slowed down, soft music filled the air, announcing Y/N's arrival. His breath seemed to catch as he saw her appear in the aisle, a glimpse of ethereal beauty in her stunning wedding dress. His heart was filled with a mix of joy and pain when he saw her so perfect.

Matt thought he would only see her in a wedding dress on their own wedding day.

Tears threatened to blur his vision as he fought to hold them back. He wanted to scream from the rooftops and release all his pent-up anger, but his words were lost in the void of his silent anguish.

"Matt, are you okay?" Chris asked beside him in an almost muted whisper, only receiving a short nod in return.

As she approached the altar, Matt felt his leg begin to bounce involuntarily in a mixture of anxiety and hesitation. Every step she took seemed to sound like an echo in his own broken heart, a constant reminder of what could have been but would never be.

He had to do something.

When Y/N finally reached the foot of the altar, Matt clenched his right hand into a fist tightly, his teeth biting his thumbnail in a desperate attempt to contain whatever was wanting to come out. He watched with a lump in his throat as she and Victor turned face-to-face, everything sounding muffled against his ears.

He had to.

Every word spoken was like a knife in his heart. He wondered if Y/N could feel the intensity of his emotions, if she could see the love and sadness mixed in his eyes as her own eyes circled the room momentarily, carrying a mix of nervousness and anxiety.

Silence hung in the church, heavy and dense, as the priest finished his solemn last words.

"If anyone has anything to say against this union, speak now or forever remain silent." Finally came the phrase so feared and long awaited.

The priest's voice echoed through the sacred space, resounding off the walls as the guests held their breath. Matt felt his heart hammer in his chest, almost hearing it in his ears, a tumultuous mix of fear and determination swirling in his mind.

He needed to.

And then, before he could think twice, before he could stop the urge that welled up inside him, Matt stood up. His body acted on instinct, his chair scraping with a harsh sound against the floor at the abrupt movement of his body.

The loud sound cut through the silence like a knife, causing the guests to turn to his figure in shock, eyes wide in horror. The priest raised his eyebrows in surprise, his words frozen on his lips as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes.

Victor, Y/N's fiancé, looked at Matt with flaming hatred in his eyes, a completely different expression than the one he displayed moments before the ceremony. He knew who Matt was, and he knew Matt would mean trouble for him.

But Matt ignored all of this. At that moment, all that mattered was Y/N. His blue eyes brimming with fear and love looked intensely into Y/N's shocked ones, who seemed frozen in place.

"I-I..." Y/N began, clearing her throat and turning to face the sea of guests. "I need a moment."

And then, without waiting for a response or further intervention, Y/N got down from the altar and turned around, starting to run towards the back of the church. Her footsteps echoed in the silence with the click of her high heels against the floor, each beat of her heart matching the frantic pace of her run.

"Matt!" Nick called through gritted teeth, quickly glancing at the people around him as he raised his right hand, holding Matt's wrist tightly. "Sit down, now."

Matt barely had time to process what was happening before his instincts took over again, pulling his wrist from Nick's grip quickly. He ignored the confused murmurs of the guests accompanying him as he ran after Y/N.

He had to reach her, had to find a way to explain himself, to convince her to listen. He couldn't let her go without a fight, not after everything he had risked.

Matt's feet pounded the church floor as he ran, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He barely noticed Victor's screams echoing behind him, barely noticed the dirty looks that glared at his back as he chased the only love he'd ever had. All that mattered was reaching Y/N, holding her hand, and never letting it go again.

Matt pushed open the back doors of the church hard, his mind spinning in a whirlwind as he prepared to face whatever was on the other side.

He was expecting the worst - a furious face, eyes full of rage, cutting words thrown his way. But what he found was the complete opposite of that.

Y/N's figure was there, just a few feet away. She held her heels in one of her hands, her veil was lying on the floor next to her bare feet, and her beautiful dress was rumpled, but there was a huge smile on her face, and her eyes showed an intense relief.

Matt frowned in confusion, his own mind in turmoil as he tried to process what was happening. The boy expected her to confront him, to blame him for interrupting her perfect day, for destroying her dreams. But not that.

Before he could do anything, Y/N dropped her heels onto the delicate veil before running towards him, her steps quick and purposeful. She stopped before Matt, her eyes shining with an intensity that left him speechless.

Without hesitation, the girl raised her hands towards his face, cupping his red, hot cheeks, her fingers touching his skin with a tenderness that made him shiver. And then, so suddenly, she pulled him towards her, her lips meeting his in a deep, desperate kiss.

Matt felt the world disappear around him as he gave himself over to the gesture, all his questions slipping from his mind, his hands finding their place around Y/N's waist almost automatically, as if it was marked into his soul.

He could feel the warmth of her body against his, the soft touch of her lips against his own, and Matt had never, until that moment, truly understood how much he missed that.

Matt's lips gently parted from Y/N's seconds later, his eyes remained fixed on her face, as if trying to decipher a complex riddle. He felt the euphoria of the moment still pulsing through his veins, but a sense of confusion was still mixed with the intensity of it all.

"I... I don't understand." The boy murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to find the right words to express the whirlwind of thoughts that assaulted him.

Y/N shook her head, a soft smile still playing on his lips. She pulled away slightly, maintaining eye contact with Matt.

"I know this is all very confusing." She began, her voice soft and comforting. "But I'm so happy, Matt. So happy and relieved that you're here."

Matt's confusion deepened even further as he took in her words. He couldn't understand how she could be so serene and happy after everything that happened and what he did with her special date.

The boy felt a weight on his shoulders and an immense desire to look behind his shoulders towards the door, feeling as if someone would open it at any moment and expose them to the public.

"When I sent the invitation." Y/N continued. "I felt scared. Scared that you wouldn't show up, that you would choose not to be here. But deep down, I knew you would come. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

Her words hit the brunette like a wave of comforting heat. He watched her intensely, his racing heart overflowing with love as goosebumps ran through his whole body.

"Don't get me wrong, Victor is an amazing guy, but... Matt, he's not you. He never was. No one will ever be you." She unbuttoned her lace sleeves before rolling them up, ripping off the flower that was attached to the fake belt at her waist and throwing it over her heels.

She really was something.

"Y/N-"

"Run away with me?

Y/N's suggestion left Matt speechless. His body remained static as his eyes stared at her, his orbs filled with shock and disbelief. He never imagined that she could suggest something so radical.

"Matt, please, we have to go. Run away with me."

A smirk slowly grew onto Matt's face before he took her right hand in his, pulling her close tightly and picking her up in one quick movement, his right arm supporting her back and his hand gripping her waist tightly, while his left arm held her legs beneath her knees, pressing her against his body.

A squeal escaped Y/N's throat, who wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her hands on the back of his head tightly, hiding her face in the crook of his shoulder, a loud laughter passing through her lips.

"You're unbelievable, pretty girl... Come on, let's go."

So glad you were around when they said: Speak Now.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @bellasfavbisexual @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @soso-scarlettolivia @maryx2xx @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

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konigsblog · 1 month

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Hear me out, kidnapper Konig getting a boner from bathing reader 👀

tw: kidnapper-könig, kidnapping, non-con/rape, dark content. dead dove: do not eat. MDNI 18+

this happens way more often than könig would like to admit... :(

he can't help himself at the sight of you, it's sudden and he barely realises until his cargo jeans are strangely incredibly tight around his crotch.

a sick and twisted part of him gets off the terror and fear visible and obvious on your pathetic face, how mortified you are as you realise his hands are slipping lower, between your soft thighs, and not just to clean you. he's no longer holding the wash cloth that he uses to wash your body, soap bubbles popping as he throws it to the side, his hands sinking between your thighs, causing goosebumps to spread across your body, bottom lip quivering as he rubs your cunt in circles.

könig's calloused fingers begin to rub at your tight hole and your sensitive clit to encourage you to spread your thighs, to show him your swollen pussy. he begins rolling his fingertips back and forth over your sensitive, little clit in soothing, small circles whilst forcing you to maintain eye contact with him, your breathing shakey and laboured, chest rising and falling rapidly.

you're forced to not cry — to hold your tears back, to stop being such a whiney, little crybaby! although, when he begins to sink his thick fingers inside, you can't help the tears that roll down your cheeks. your waterline is filled with glistening tears, wide with dread as your eyes flicker between the bulge in könig's jeans, and his haunting, silver eyes. your breathing quickens at the stretch of two of his large fingers, long and thick, filling your slicken pussy so well.

his fingers fit perfectly inside of your cunt, it's as if you were made to be fucked by him, your cunt morphed to fit his digits, to be pleasured and taunted ‘til you're sobbing out in agony.

your body trembles and shudders as könig begins to unfasten his leather belt with one large hand, pulling his boxers down to allow his meaty, fat cock to be freed from the tight confines that feel a couple sizes too small around the crotch. he slowly begins to jerk himself off at the sight, small strokes to his drooling dick — his head oozes and weeps, aching and throbbing in his large and scarred hand. he forcefully pries your legs open, feeling your thighs tremble with pleasure and discomfort as he strokes himself to the sight of your gummy cunt.

to könig, you're nothing but his beloved captive, who he's able to freely abuse and take advantage of with any repercussions. your defenceless and weak against the large and brute male who is nothing but deprived and filthy, a sinful and backstabbing asshole who uses you for his own selfish, greedy fulfillment and benefit.

you're bent over the bathroom countertop with your hands bound to the small of your back, the handcuffs tightening around your wrists until they're agonizingly tight, and the shackles on your ankle forcing you to stay still as you're brutally fucked into — as if you're nothing but a doll, a sex toy without any feelings. you gag and heave on your choked, broken sobs, the ache between your thighs agonizing and intensifying as könig ruts and rams into your slick, wet folds, causing your thighs to tremble, barely able to withhold your weight without könig's support.

your eyes widen and your mouth is stuffed with three, calloused fingers of könig's, chuckling at the sight infront of him, watching as you're forced to unfold, forced to take every single inch of his swollen cock, like the pathetic victim you are. :(

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thepaperpanda · 1 year

Text

The Offspring || Douma x female demon!reader

Summary: Despite all obstacles, you were able to grant Douma with a demon child

Warnings: None, just Douma teasing Akaza and Akaza being so done with Douma also soft Douma

Word count: 3853

Authors: Cass & Rouge

Douma was taken aback by the news. He never fathomed the possibility of impregnating you. Did he feel remorseful about it? Perhaps slightly, but his intrigue and captivation overshadowed any misgivings he may have had.

Frequently, he would sit with you on his lap and caress your burgeoning belly with slender fingers, all while his iridescent eyes fixated on the stirring movements beneath the skin. The sensation of feeling a life growing inside of you was something he had never experienced before, and it left him entranced.

Upon the arrival of your little one, his fascination only amplified.

Six months passed.

He stood there, beholding the small bundle in his arms with reverential awe. The baby’s eyes, like a burst of rainbow hues, met Douma's own gaze, as if recognizing the demon before him.

You stood in the hallway, your gaze fixed on Douma as he played with your child. The door was half-opened, allowing you to watch the scene unfold without disturbing them.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight before you. Douma had a special way with children if he only wanted to, and you were thankful that he was a part of your and your child's life; instinctively, you knew he'd have done whatever it takes to keep the both of you safe and sound.

The little baby was looking at Douma, his chubby hands reaching out towards the man.

Douma's low hum interrupted the quiet atmosphere. The corners of his lips tugged up into a sly smile, his eyes fixed on you as he addressed his son. "You like to watch me, don't you, Y/N?"

You smiled as you slowly entered the room, improving the cardigan over your shoulders. "Hey darling, forgive me, I didn't want to interrupt. I also love to watch you two interacting."

You approached Douma, and looked down at the baby boy he held in his arms. You saw the boy's tiny finger curling around Douma's slender, index finger, his colorful eyes looking up at you with curiosity. He was dressed in a soft blue onesie; it made him look even more adorable.

You couldn't resist the urge to interact with your son, so you lowered your head and rubbed your nose against baby's tummy. This playful gesture earned you a burst of laughter from the child, his little body wriggling with joy. You smiled as you continued to tickle and play with the baby, enjoying his infectious giggles.

Douma tilted his head to the side, his gaze fixed on the tiny bundle in front of him. "It's hard to believe we created something so precious," he mused, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked at Douma and smiled warmly at him. The corners of your mouth curled up, and your teeth were visible; your cheeks lifted, and your eyes crinkled with joy.

The baby boy's gaze shifted to Douma, and a smile spread across his chubby face. His eyes sparkled with delight as he puffed out his cheeks, and his little arms reached out towards the man; his fingers wiggled as he tried to grab hold of Douma's turtleneck. The baby's whole body seemed to radiate with happiness as he cooed and giggled.

"Keito is in love with you, there's no doubt," you chuckled, looking up at Douma.

Douma couldn't shake off the strange feeling that lingered within him. He kept replaying the events in his head, trying to convince himself that it had all actually happened. "Is he not the most precious thing you've ever seen?" Douma beamed, cradling the baby in his arms. "I played a vital role in his creation, after all. Without me, he wouldn't be here."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but smile at the way Douma was cooing over the baby. "And without his mother, he wouldn't be here either," you countered playfully. "Douma, could you please place Keito on the ground for me?" You requested, watching as Douma carefully lowered the boy to the floor.

Meanwhile, you made your way across the room and took a seat on the floor on the other side.

As you watched your son sit confused on the floor, you couldn't help but giggle. Patting your knees, you said loudly, "Keito! Keito, love! Come to mama!"

As he settled into his spot, you couldn't help but notice the way he patted his knees in a playful, almost childlike manner. His voice, too, took on a tone of cheerful exuberance, as he cooed in a singsong voice, "Keito! Come to your daddy."

The baby boy was absolutely confused about where he should go, whether to his mom or to his dad. He looked around with a blunt expression glued to his little face, his little hands reaching out to both of you; he was turning his head as if searching for an answer. His eyes darted from his mom to his dad.

Douma viewed parenting as a competition, a game he was determined to win at all costs. "Come to papa, my little blessing," he cooed, his voice dripping with honeyed sweetness. "Come to daddy. Daddy's going to cuddle you just how you like it."

You tried to make little Keito look at you and crawl towards you by calling out to him, "Hey Keito, look at me! Come on, you can do it! Come to mama!" You waved your hands and made silly faces to get his attention, but he seemed more interested in his father crouching on the other side of the room.

Eventually, after a few more attempts, the boy finally looked up and smiled at Douma before trying to crawl on all fours like a little explorer towards his dad.

Douma's iridescent eyes twinkled with sheer delight as he eagerly outstretched his arms, beckoning the little boy towards him.

As the child reached him, Douma let out a boisterous laugh, scooping him up into a warm embrace. "My little blessing!" He exclaimed, his voice brimming with affection. "Of course you would come to me, your beloved father."

You improved your position to sit on your butt while letting out a sigh full of sadness. "Of course! I could have predicted it! I'm getting jealous of you, Douma. Keito always chooses you over me."

Demon's eyes sparkled with joy as he gently bounced the baby boy in his arms. "Of course he does," he said with a chuckle. "I am his father, after all. And we share those beautiful eyes." He leaned in close to the baby's face and whispered, "You're a blessed child, just like I was… and am still."

You smiled a little to yourself, even though your heart ached, as you thought about how your son always seemed to prefer his father over you. It wasn't that he didn't love you or want to spend time with you, but there was something about his father's carefree demeanor that drew him in.

It hurt, but you knew that it wasn't a reflection of your love or your abilities as a mother. Instead, it was just a phase that you had to accept and be patient with. Despite the sadness that lingered in your heart, you knew that your son was lucky to have such a loving and involved father in his life.

As you sat on the wooden floor, lost in thought, you couldn't help but think about how much Douma had changed since you had become pregnant. It was as if the presence of new life growing inside you had awakened something inside him that he had never known existed before. He was always a curious and intelligent man, but now he seemed to be discovering the world and its human emotions in a new and profound way.

In the past, Douma held a disdainful view of children. They were a nuisance, always getting in the way and making noise. He had no desire to interact with them and would have been perfectly content to live a life without their presence.

However, all of that changed when his own blessed son was born. As soon as he held the little one in his arms, he felt a deep sense of attachment and responsibility. Suddenly, the child became his everything, his one and only source of pride and joy. "I never thought I would care for a child," Douma confided to you. "But now that I have one of my own, I can't imagine life without him. He's the most precious thing in the world to me."

After getting up from the floor, you cleared your throat. "Hey, Douma, I needed to tell you something, and I've almost forgotten. Kokushibo announced his visit. As far as I know, he'll bring that other demon you spoke about a lot, Akaza, was it his name?" You rubbed your chin with your sharp nail. "I think that Muzan is sending them to calculate the possible risks, you know what I mean?"

Douma's eyes widened as he perked up, a glint of excitement sparkling in his gaze. "Akaza is coming to visit me? How delightful! I have been dreaming of this for decades!" His voice dripped with anticipation, his mind racing with thoughts of what he could offer his esteemed guests.

Suddenly, the booming voice of Kokushibo interrupted his thoughts, filling the room with its powerful presence. Douma wasted no time and eagerly slid the door open to reveal both demons standing before him.

"Kokushibo-dono, welcome, and Akaza-dono! I cannot express how overjoyed I am that you have decided to visit me!" Douma exclaimed, his tone effervescent with pleasure.

Kokushibo merely strode into the room with a nod of acknowledgment, his stoic demeanor in stark contrast to Douma's bubbling enthusiasm.

You bowed my head respectfully towards Kokushibo, acknowledging his presence and authority. You approached Douma and stood behind him, as if you were trying to hide a little.

Akaza was not at all thrilled about the visit that he was forced to take part in, but he stepped in regardless. As he looked around the room, his eyes eventually fell upon you, and he was taken aback by your beauty. He couldn't help but feel surprised that Douma had managed to find someone as seemingly pretty and cute as you.

Akaza quickly regained his composure, and continued with politeness, albeit with a hint of skepticism in his tone. "Interesting place."

"My followers come here to see me. And, well now, him as well," Douma smiled proudly, showing off his baby to Akaza. "They ask me for all sorts of stuff."

Akaza couldn't help but feel a little annoyed at Douma's boastful attitude, but he kept his cool. "I see."

"That's why we are here. The child," Kokushibo said, pointing at little Keito.

Although you felt the urge to take the boy out of Douma's hands, you resisted the temptation.

Akaza glanced over at the tiny bundle cradled in Douma's arms, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Is that it?"

You nodded a little, looking at the pale demon from behind your partner's shoulder. "This is Keito."

Douma couldn't resist adding his own comment. "Oh yes, Akaza-dono! This is my little Keito. A child as blessed as me," he boasted, a sly grin spreading across his face.

Kokushibo strode over to the trio, his eyes fixed on the tiny bundle in Douma's arms. Without a word, he reached out and plucked the baby from Douma's grasp, holding him up by the back of his collar as if he were a mere kitten.

As Kokushibo carelessly plucked your son from Douma's hands, you felt a sudden wave of dizziness wash over you; your vision began to blur, and you swayed unsteadily on your feet. You couldn't believe how casually Kokushibo had handled your precious child, as if he were nothing more than a mere object. Your maternal instincts kicked into overdrive, and you fought to stay upright as a rush of panic coursed through your body. "Careful, you're handling a baby, not some kind of doll."

Akaza took notice of your distress and turned his gaze towards you, his expression betraying a hint of concern. His eyes darted between you and Douma, assessing the situation at hand.

Meanwhile, Kokushibo glanced at you before expertly cradling little Keito in his arms, as if he had done it a thousand times before. It was clear that he was confident in his abilities to handle the child.

Douma noticed Akaza's expression and sought to reassure you. "You see love? No need to worry! It's Kokushibo-dono," he said, flashing you a reassuring smile. "Oh! Right! Akaza-dono, this is my one and only Y/N," he said, tapping your shoulder to get your attention. "Love, this is my best friend, Akaza," he introduced, gesturing towards another demon.

You let out a loud sigh full of relief when Keito was placed safely in Kokushibo's arms. After looking at Akaza, you bowed your head slightly.

As Akaza turned to face Douma, his curiosity piqued. "How did you manage to find someone like her?" He asked, gesturing towards you. "I had no idea that demons were capable of breeding, though."

Kokushibo, cradling a small baby in his arms, looked up at the conversation. "Because they aren't," he chimed in a stoic tone.

Douma, however, remained unfazed. He simply smiled, pulling you close against his side. "You see, my dear Akaza," he began, his voice smooth as silk. "It takes more than just biology to create life. It takes love, devotion, and a strong desire to create something beautiful in this world."

As you heard Kokushibo's words, you could feel your face flush with embarrassment.

As Douma spoke, Akaza scoffed in disbelief. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, and his expression made it clear that he was highly skeptical of Douma's claims. "Yeah, surely. I bet you were blessed after devouring so many women."

The infant nestled in Kokushibo's arms looked up at him with wide, curious eyes, studying him intently, as if he were trying to decipher his intentions.

Kokushibo's six piercing eyes scrutinized the child before him, his curiosity piqued as to why it wasn't cowering in fear. His gaze bore into the tiny creature, searching for any sign of weakness or vulnerability.

With a dismissive roll of his eyes, Douma waved a hand at Akaza, as if brushing off his words. "Come on, Akaza, you know how it is. I at least devour women and gain strength from them. And I was simply fortunate enough to come across this cute little thing," he gestured to you, "who was kind enough to give me a child."

Akaza's patience was wearing thin as Douma continued to speak in his usual arrogant and disrespectful manner. With a deep scowl etched on his face, Akaza finally spoke up, his voice low and dangerous. "If you don't stop speaking that way," he warned, "I'll be forced to give you a punch, like the last time."

To Kokushibo's surprise, the baby suddenly broke into a wide, toothless grin, his chubby cheeks dimpling with delight.

Kokushibo's gaze shot up from the infant in his arms at the sound of Douma's voice. The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken animosity. "Akaza," Kokushibo growled softly, his voice low and warning. "I did not bring you here so the two of you can fight."

Douma merely rolled his eyes, a look of pure boredom etched onto his features. "I don't want any blood on those floors. It's hard to clean."

You just stood there, facepalming at the entire situation. "Kokushibo-dono, can I have my son back?" You asked.

Kokushibo nodded and carefully handed the boy back to you.

You set your arms in a little cradle, to make sure Keito was safe in them.

Douma couldn't resist the urge to taunt Akaza. With a sly grin, he presented the baby boy to his fellow demon, holding the child up for him to see, almost shoving Keito into Akaza's face. "Look at this, Akaza," Douma chimed, his voice dripping with amusement. "I made this."

"Douma, please," you said firmly, your tone serious. "You need to be on our best behavior here. Remember, you weren't the only one involved in making this child."

Without a word, you simply reached out and gently took the child from his arms, cradling him against your chest.

Akaza let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head in amusement at the entire situation. "Well, well," he said, looking at you with a wry grin, "It seems that your woman has some balls after all, Douma."

Douma gasped, feeling offended. "Well, I at least have a woman."

"Kokushibo-dono, can I have a word with you?" You asked the Upper One, handling the baby back to Douma after a moment.

Douma gladly accepted and hugged the boy.

Kokushibo nodded and followed you to the other room.

"Kokushibo-dono, forgive me for asking, but did Lord Muzan say anything?" You asked after sliding the door closed.

Kokushibo's words hung heavy in the air, his face etched with a deep sense of concern and apprehension. "Lord Muzan wasn't pleased about this development," he said slowly, his voice low and measured. "It was something that should never have happened, yet he's holding onto a glimmer of hope."

As Kokushibo spoke, you listened intently, calmed a little by his words. "I wasn't even aware that it was possible for a female demon to get pregnant," you said, your voice filled with wonder. "So, what does this mean for us? To me and Douma? I just hope Lord Muzan won't kill any of us."

"He said that getting rid of you or Douma would be a waste of his time, but he will need the child's blood to run some tests on it."

"Of course," you whispered, nodding your head. "Thank you for bringing the good news, Kokushibo-dono."

Meanwhile, Akaza observed Douma interacting with the baby.

"What are you looking at?" Douma asked, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You want to hold him?"

Akaza furrowed his brows, looking hesitant for a moment. "I don't know," he said, his voice uncertain, "I'm not really good with babies."

But despite his reservations, Akaza eventually relented, reaching out to take the baby from Douma's arms. As he held the child, his expression softened, and a look of wonder crossed his face. He gently poked the little boy's cheek with his finger. "Squishy."

As Douma observed the scene before him, he couldn't help but emit an amused chuckle. "Awwww! Akaza-dono! You two look so cute together! I never expected to see you looking so soft," he gasped, his voice laced with playful mockery.

"He's so small," Akaza murmured, gazing down at the baby in his arms. "And so fragile. Everything would be fine if not your scent lingering over him," Akaza looked at Douma, his face serious. "You don't deserve any of this, you do understand?"

Douma's grin never faltered as he spoke. "You may say that I don't deserve it, but I have everything I could possibly want. I have a woman I adore and a child that we brought into this world together."

Akaza's expression suddenly turned stern, and he glared at Douma. "Stop grinning like an idiot," he growled, "Or I'll wipe that stupid grin off your face. I have no idea why and how she got involved with you, and it's not my business. She seems like a decent demon, not that strong, yet still intriguing. I can assure you, that if anything will happen to any of them because of your careless behavior, I won't be that nice anymore."

The corners of Douma's lips curled upward as he watched Akaza interact with Keito. The sight was simply too precious to ignore. He couldn't resist the urge to tease his companion. "Aww! Are you going to be a good uncle, Akaza-dono? I always knew you had it in you!" Douma exclaimed, his voice light and playful as he wrapped an arm around Akaza's broad shoulders.

Akaza stood there, his fist clenched at his side, his eyes fixed on Douma's smirking face. He was trying his best to remain calm, to control the overwhelming anger that was bubbling up inside him. But it was difficult. So difficult!

Douma had always been a thorn in his side, with his arrogance, lack of respect for women and his self-assured demeanor. And now, with this baby in the picture, it was even worse.

As much as he wanted to punch Douma's face in, Akaza knew he couldn't. Not now, not when there was a child in the room. So he took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and tried to compose himself. "Whatever, Douma."

As Douma's fingers wove through the strands of Akaza's disheveled hair, a mischievous grin played across his lips.

Soon, you and Kokushibo returned to the room and after exchanging some more courtesies, you thanked him and Akaza for the visit and assured them you and Douma were at Muzan's disposal at any time.

"Keep the boy safe," Kokushibo had reminded the two of you before leaving for good.

The baby smiled at him widely, blinking shortly after as the little hiccup kicked in.

Suddenly, Douma let out a low chuckle, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Look at this, a hiccup."

You walked closer and looked down at the boy, who had a clearly confused grimace glued to his little face. "He's adorable. He's perfect."

"Only because he has a perfect mother," he whispered.

You smiled at Douma briefly, kissing your son's forehead.

"Y/N? I was thinking...” He hummed.

You gave your partner a glance, tilting your head slightly.

"Well, since we made it once, and now we know it's possible..." he trailed off, biting his lip softly. "Maybe our boy would like to have a little sibling?"

"I'm not going through this ever again," you told him with a sweet smile. "Once was enough."

"Oh, Y/N, please!” Douma whined. "Making the baby is fun! So let's make another one."

After giving him another glance, you let out a sigh, massaging your temples. "Douma."

As he leaned into your shoulder, his voice low and sultry, you couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine. "Do you see him?" He murmured, nodding towards the young demon playing in the corner. "He needs a playmate, someone to keep him company while we're away. We could be the perfect family, two beautiful demons and two adorable little ones."

You let out a sigh. "Firstly, how will you explain this to Lord Muzan? Secondly, how can you be sure it'll happen again?"

"Well... We won't know unless we try," he smiled at you sweetly.

"Fine," you told him, taking Keito into your arms. "Fine. Let it be."

"Oh, I love you, my goddess!" He exclaimed, his voice filled with pure adoration.

You smiled at his words, feeling your heart swell with love for both him and your child. "I love you too," you said softly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his jawline. "You both are everything to me."

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moumouton4 · 8 months

Text

Voyeurism || L Lawliet + Light Yagami x fem!reader

A/n : Prompt 11 of the Smutember 2023 ( Well this is a test because if you know me I've never written something like this ) Also thank you so much for the anon who gave me this idea ! I can tag you if you want just let me know in the comments 😙

The list of promps is HERE

Smutember 2023 Masterlist ⚜

Warnings : voyeurism, masturbation, rough sex, exhibitionism ?, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 893

L had always been known for his concentration when he set out to solve an investigation that no one else could answer. In fact, he was recently called upon to help solve a number of unexplained deaths in Tokyo. He had found his main suspect in Light Yagami, a brilliant young man who undoubtedly had the necessary intelligence to achieve whatever he set out to do.

L was well aware of this, and so decided to handcuff himself to the other young man. However, the latter had asked to regain his autonomy for a week, because according to him, his girlfriend was coming to visit him. L was suspicious at first, as he hadn't had any information about this famous Y/n L/n his suspect was talking about. At first, he refused, too skeptical, but finally, on the day you came to the meeting point and after a long body search, you were allowed to enter the HQ and Light was released from his restraints.

However, L hadn't said his last word, and so he asked for cameras A-B-S-O-L-U-T-E-L-Y everywhere, so that no plot could be hatched while he couldn't physically watch Light. To organize himself, the detective opened the surveillance videos on one screen and the files he was studying as part of his investigation on another. The day itself had passed without a hitch.

When night came, however, things took a completely different turn. Although you and Light were not sleeping in the same room, L, still awake at this late hour, became aware of the suspicious movement. Just as he was about to alert one of his colleagues, however, something unexpected happened. He saw you on the surveillance screens, throwing yourself at Light, who kissed you and began to strip off your clothes in the process. Throwing you bare before the men's eyes. Except that one was supposed to see and the other not at all.

In no time at all, all your clothes flew to the four corners of the room, before intertwining on the fresh sheets. L was well aware that you weren't going to do anything wrong that might hinder the investigation in this situation, and especially that he may not be supposed to witness the sexual frolics of two young adults. But one thing prevented him from looking away from the live video. He who was only interested in investigations and sweets found himself totally obnubilated by Light's manner, exerting all his dominance over you, pinning you against the bed as he quickly railed into you, as if he knew that here anyone could come and disturb you at any moment ( no, Light didn't ask you to come and break L's concentration )

The raven-haired young man tried as hard as he could not to look at the obscene scene unfolding before his eyes, but no matter what he did, his gaze always ended up returning to the forbidden content. He even found himself thinking what a pity it was not to have added sound to it, he couldn't help imagining the different noises you could make. And just that thought and the images gave him a hard on. Which surprised him, because he'd long thought that this kind of content had no impact on his body.

Though, the heat that began to rise in him showed the real influence your actions had on his hormones, his eyes never taking their eyes off your body, which arching against Light's as he fucked you hard.

Without having to reach any further, he witnessed this intimate moment of two lovers cumming, bodies clinging to each other as you both shook with ecstasy. It was only after the two of you had calmed down in the video that L came out of his trance like state, realizing that his hand was tightly gripping his hardened member through the softness of his pants. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, but he couldn't help but wonder if it would happen again. He knew it was wrong, yet he couldn't help doing a little math in his head : on average, young adults have sex 3 times a week. He couldn't wait.

Maybe it was the thrill of the new place or the excitement of the investigation, but during that week you'd have sex once a day. And each single time, L was there to watch Light pound into your pussy. He wondered how tight you were, but seeing the look on his suspect's face almost made him want to leave his office and go to your room.

From the third day onwards, he began to masturbate as he followed your lovemaking, something he'd never had the idea or the desire to do before. And when he saw you talking or walking in the corridors, his big black eyes followed your every move as if he could see through your clothes, and with his photographic memory this was practically the case. When you talked to him he always got hard and his grey pants didn't hide anything, luckily he was sitting down most of the time.

But you and Light weren't as innocent as all that, you knew full well that there were cameras in your room, maybe that's why you did it so many times. This may be the only case L won't be able to solve.

#death note #death note imagine #death note smut #l lawliet #l lawliet imagine #l lawliet smut #l lawliet x reader #ryuzaki #ryuzaki x reader #ryuzaki smut #light yagami #light yagami imagine #light yagami smut #light yagami x reader #light x reader #light smut #smutember 2023 #smut #miri-writes

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subskz · 5 months

Text

go easy - h.js

note: this is a reupload from my old blog

content: sub jisung, dom reader, masturbation (m), brief voyeurism, a bit of degradation, reader calls jisung a slut once, use of traffic light system, stopping during a scene, crying, slight angst, hurt/comfort, pegging, lots of praise

word count: 6.6k

The scent of your cooking wafted through the kitchen as you turned the knob on your stove to lower its heat to a simmer. You gave the eggs you’d scrambled a few more tentative pokes with your utensil before deciding that you were satisfied, shutting off the fire beneath the pan at last.

Jisung was still sound asleep in the other room—or at least, you assumed he was given that he hadn’t yet been lured into the kitchen by the mouthwatering aroma. You set the sizzling pan down on the counter and glanced at your phone to check the time. It was nearly noon, and as much as you wanted Jisung to get proper rest, especially knowing that he’d gone to bed thoroughly exhausted the night prior, you figured it’d be better to wake him up before his whole day was thrown off. A part of you wanted him awake so he could have the chance to eat his breakfast before it got cold, but the other half—the more selfish one—simply missed him. No matter how groggy he might be when he first woke up; mumbling to himself for minutes, ruffling his unruly hair and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before he could get a proper sentence out, he always brightened your mornings with his slurred jokes and lazy giggles.

The thought alone was enough to stir fondness in your chest, bringing an involuntary smile to your face as if you could hear his raspy voice already. You made quick work of setting the rest of the table and headed out of the kitchen, making your way down the hall towards your bedroom. In retrospect, shutting the door so that the clatter of your cooking wouldn’t disturb Jisung hadn’t really been necessary, considering how deep of a sleeper he was.

A small, muffled noise coming from the other side of the wall captured your attention, bringing you to a halt as you reached for the door handle. You stayed put for a moment, not even having the chance to question whether you’d imagined it or not when it was soon followed by another, just audible enough for you to catch. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard Jisung talk in his sleep, but the nature of the sounds you were hearing—stifled, swallowed down, like he was having trouble getting them out—had you wondering if he might be experiencing a nightmare of some kind.

You listened long enough for your curiosity to begin morphing into concern. A noise almost akin to a gasp met your ears, cut short as soon as it came, just barely allowing you to catch it. With a frown, you turned the door handle and tiptoed into your bedroom, completely unprepared for the scene that awaited you inside.

Jisung was awake, very much so.

Your comforter had been bunched up and tossed to the side, giving you a clear view of exactly what had been drawing out all those strange, breathless noises from him. He was hunched over, eyes squeezed shut, messy hair falling into his face, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. His shorts and underwear were pushed down just far enough for his hand to move freely, like he’d been in too much of a rush to even bother removing them properly. Given how fast he was stroking himself, that was probably the case.

You blinked a few times, processing the scene unfolding before you in stunned silence. He hadn’t yet noticed that you’d slipped into the room, still fully consumed by the feeling of his hand sliding up and down his length at a frantic pace, working himself to his high with a shameless lack of control. The noises he made were hushed, but deliciously desperate, and judging by the obvious flush on his cheeks, you could tell just how hard he was trying to hold his breath and restrain himself so they wouldn’t ring out too loud.

Any remaining shock you’d felt was quickly overtaken by a wave of arousal when you heard Jisung call out your name—so soft, so broken, you might have thought you’d misheard if he didn’t buck up into his fist especially hard as he uttered it, like the mere thought of you was just what he needed to send him over the edge right then and there. He slowed his pumping to flatten his palm and roll it over the head of his cock, cursing under his breath. You knew better than anyone how crazy the move drove him—you were the one who’d discovered it in the first place, gotten him hooked on it. It ignited a strange heat in your stomach, to realize that you were the only thing on his mind in that moment.

You’d never quite seen Jisung like this before. Curled in on himself, forcing back his moans in a relentless chase for pleasure from hands other than yours. He was typically so vocal about his desires with you, rarely shying away from demanding all your attention and begging you to take care of him when his need became too much to contain any longer. The fact that he was trying to keep it all a secret from you, like he was doing something wrong, had you more excited than you’d like to admit.

He clamped his jaws shut to suppress what was sure to have been a particularly loud cry, throwing his head back in a fit of pleasure. As he did, his half-lidded eyes finally caught a glimpse of you. Arms crossed, leaning lazily against the doorframe with an expression on your face that made his stomach flip.

He stiffened, hand freezing around his dick. A choked noise escaped him as his stare met yours, the remaining traces of his moan instantly dying out in his throat.

“Morning,” you hummed.

Jisung’s eyes grew wide as moons; a deer caught in headlights, a look far too innocent considering what he’d just been doing. With a mortified squeak, his hand scrambled for the nearest pillow, flinging it over himself in a pointless attempt to cover up the dripping mess of arousal peeking from his half-discarded shorts. Embarrassingly enough, the softness pressing suddenly against his most sensitive spot made him jolt, so hard that he was positive you wouldn’t miss it.

Your lips twitched into the beginnings of a smile, and you made your way over to the bed, flopping down on it casually across from him. “Don’t be shy, Hannie,” your voice was calm for the most part, but it was difficult to contain the delight creeping into it. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, right?”

At that, Jisung’s face heated up impossibly more, creating a pretty blush against his tan skin that you couldn’t get enough of.

“I...I thought you were busy,” he stammered out, gripping the pillow tighter. “I didn’t mean...um, I mean, I wasn’t trying to—”

His rambling was cut off when you leaned forward to cup his face in your hands, smile curving to completion when you felt for yourself how much his skin was burning under your palms. You gave his full cheeks a squeeze, gentle enough for him to relax into your touch. “Weren’t trying to get yourself off?” you finished for him. “It’s alright, baby. Why don’t you show me what you were doing?”

Jisung swallowed hard. “You’re not mad?”

“Mm...not mad,” you began, rubbing your thumbs along his flushed face, feeling his pulse race under them. “Just a little hurt that you didn’t call for me to help you out.”

He cast his eyes down, unable to turn his head away in shame like every instinct told him to. You were only teasing him, no signs of disappointment lacing your tone, but it crashed a heavy guilt over him all the same. To not only do something so pathetic, so shameful, but to be caught by you in the process. You, the one he wanted to be good for, the one he did everything with your approval in mind.

“Sorry, ‘m sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s way too early for me to be so…ah.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could fade into the sheets and escape your watchful eyes before he died of pure humiliation right there—or worse, before the fresh rush of adrenaline it sent through his body to be found like this made his situation infinitely more embarrassing. He could already feel it, creeping up his neck, making his cock throb against the soft fabric of the pillow.

“Just…didn’t wanna bother you for something like this.”

With the exception of an occasional, overly-eager misstep, Jisung always tried his best to be as well-behaved as possible for you. It was a rare occurrence for you to scold him over anything—he didn’t give you much of a reason to, nor a desire to. Not when his doe eyes gleamed up at you in a constant search for praise and his voice rang out so sweetly with every word of adoration you gave him. Though he hadn’t necessarily broken any rules, it still felt strangely thrilling to you to have caught him like this. Working himself up without your knowledge, seeking relief without your touch. You wondered what he’d been thinking about to even reach that point, what had made him so desperate that he didn’t even think to come find you first.

You slid your hands from his face to grab the pillow he’d used to shield himself. Jisung tensed up as you tugged it out of his hold, but he made no effort to try and stop you, obediently releasing it from his fidgeting fingers. Your heart skipped a beat as his cock sprang back into view, still fully hard and leaking at its tip, practically begging for release after the sudden loss in stimulation. Clearly, Jisung’s embarrassment had done little to ebb his arousal—if anything, it’d only strengthened it.

“Poor baby. So needy with no one around to take care of him,” you pouted, ghosting your hand over his length. “What’s got you like this first thing in the morning?”

It took him a moment to muster up a response, not finding it in him to speak properly when your fingers were dancing mere centimeters over his aching tip, taunting him. “H-had a dream about you.”

“Yeah?” you cooed. “Was I touching you like that?”

A soft noise of frustration met your ears. His gaze was locked on your hand, in a trance. So preoccupied with how badly he longed for you to close the distance that he almost forgot to give a strained nod.

“Cute.” You followed Jisung’s pleading stare to admire his twitching cock, curling your hand playfully around nothing. His breath hitched in his throat, bracing himself for your touch. But it never came.

Instead, you scooted back, settling comfortably in a spot near the edge of the bed that gave you the perfect view of him—his bewildered face, his ridden up shirt, his dick peeking up from the elastic of his shorts. “Well, don’t let me ruin your fun.”

His mouth fell open, big, anxious eyes darting up to meet yours again. Adorably expressive as ever. You could see every emotion he was feeling written out in the curve of his eyebrows and the repeated parting and closing of his lips as he struggled to make sense of what you were implying.

“Ah…” he chuckled nervously. “What?”

“It must’ve felt good, right? Better than anything I could do,” you teased. “Let me see how my baby plays with himself when I’m not around.”

Your tone was light, but Jisung nearly shuddered all the same, like he couldn’t shake the feeling that some sort of punishment had to be awaiting him. There was a strange, hungry glint in your eyes that added a tinge of apprehension to the excitement fluttering his chest.

Despite himself, he followed through without question, half out of a determination to prove his discipline to you, half out of a pathetic need to relieve the pressure still coiled tight in his abdomen. He brought his hand back to his length, a tiny whine escaping him as he wrapped his fingers around it, handling it with far more timidity than the relentless pace he’d set earlier. He glanced up at you with a hopeful stare to ask for permission, such an obvious attempt to appeal to you that you could’ve laughed. But you simply nodded, encouraging him to start moving.

Tentatively, Jisung began stroking himself, thighs trembling the instant his pleasure picked up where he’d left off. You marveled at the way his cock pulsed in his hand as he pumped it with an amount of delicacy that he wasn’t used to treating himself with, slowly finding his rhythm. Even with his languid strokes, it wasn’t long before soft vocalizations began to build in his throat, heard loud and clear through the bedroom.

“Is that how fast you were going earlier?” you asked. It seemed like an innocent question, but he knew right away what you were really getting at; an order to go faster, to match his feverish speed from before.

“No,” he admitted.

“Don’t hold back, Jisungie,” you urged. “You were so into it before. Do it just like that, make yourself feel so good that you don’t even notice me.”

A breathless, awkward mewl slipped out of him, but he tightened his grip nonetheless. You cooed in approval, growing more aroused with each passing second over the sight of him so flustered, fumbling helplessly with his cock like he’d never touched it before. Any traces of how shameless he could be with you were nowhere to be found, now. No cries for your attention, no sinful expressions on full display, no begging to be adored. It willed you to take things a step further, to make the most of his shyness.

His hushed sounds quickly escalated into less controlled ones, still tinged with that sleepy rasp. His free hand gripped the bedsheets as he picked up the pace of his stroking, a cute, concentrated look forming on his face.

“There we go. Does that feel good, Hannie?”

The boy’s eyebrows furrowed as he slid his thumb along the head of his cock, passing over his wet slit and making his breath stutter. “M-mhm,” he hesitated before continuing. “It’d feel—ah—better if it was you.”

“Yeah?” you cooed. “It could’ve been. All you had to do was come to me like a good boy.”

He whined at that, averting his guilt-ridden gaze. Even with his head ducked, he could still feel you watching him, taking in each flex of his muscles and jolt of his hips. It made the touch of his hand feel completely foreign to him, like the effects of your observant eyes stimulated his nerve endings with a new intensity. You knew well by now that Jisung thrived on your praise more than anything else, but the prospect of talking down to him with no affectionate words to ease the sting was oddly exhilarating to you. You wanted to be a little meaner, to satiate your curiosity.

“Is this what you do behind my back, baby?” you faked a pout. “Always touching your needy cock ‘cause you can’t even wait for me? Are you that dirty?”

Jisung tensed up, nearly choking in his haste to get his protest out. “No! I’m good, ‘m a good boy.”

His reaction made your spine tingle with satisfaction, enough for you to continue testing the waters. “I thought so too,” you said wistfully. “But now I’m not so sure. What kind of good boy would do something so gross?”

He whimpered. It came unexpectedly louder than the rest of his sweet little sounds, even as the pace of his pumps slowed down significantly.

“Maybe you were just pretending to be good for me?” You cocked your head to the side. “Maybe you’re really just a little slut who will do anything to get off.”

Your tone took on an unnatural harshness, unlike any of your usual teasing, your familiar, playful lilt that pulled him into a happy haze with each word you spoke. Jisung shuddered. His face turned beet red, half-hearted strokes coming to a full stop. For a brief moment, you thought his reaction was one of enjoyment. But a few seconds passed, and the boy stayed that way—quiet, frozen in place, save for a faint twitch in his lips.

“Jisung?” you asked cautiously. “Are you okay?”

His spell of silence stretched out longer than you’d anticipated, making alarm rise in your chest.

“Jisung, what’s your color?”

There was a newfound urgency to the question, one that he couldn’t ignore no matter how badly he wished he could brush it off, to pretend like he was fine so he wouldn’t disappoint you any further. But you noticed it all without anything said, from his tensed posture to the way his hand quivered as he unwrapped it from around his length. Reluctantly, he lifted his head to look at you, watery gaze coming into view.

“Green,” he said at last. The crack in his voice did little to reassure you—in fact, all it did was shoot your worry through the roof.

“Are you sure?” you pressed. “I need you to be honest with me, baby.”

Jisung’s breathing grew more rapid, heart hammering in his chest for reasons he couldn’t fully explain. It had all felt so good, so right, up until just a moment ago. Now, it was all wrong—he was all wrong. He couldn’t find it in him to be his own comfort, to tell himself that your words held no real weight. He’d upset you, he’d disappointed you, and on top of that he couldn’t even take his punishment properly. The sting in his eyes grew stronger. He’d already let you down by doing something so indecent, he didn’t want to do it again by being too weak to face the consequences.

Even with Jisung’s face obscured by his messy curtain of hair, you could see the flurry of emotions crossing it, twisting his features, and your heart along with it. He was lying, you were certain of it.

“Hannie,” you softened your voice. The nickname was feather-light on your tongue, enough to soothe the inhibitions that were threatening to take over his mind and force him quiet. “Talk to me. Are you sure?”

Jisung swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat couldn’t be pushed down. You already knew how pathetic he was, anyway. There was no point in denying it.

All at once, the tears that had glazed his wide eyes spilled over. He pulled his knees up to his chest, shrinking into himself, looking smaller than ever.

“Ah…this is s-so stupid,” he attempted a weak chuckle, but it fell flat into a sob instead, one that made your chest positively ache. “Sorry,” he choked out. “I tried to hold it in, ‘m sorry.”

A wave of guilt crashed over you, flooding all your senses. You rose from your spot slowly to make your way over to Jisung and settle down next to where he was curled up on the bed. It took all of your self-control to push back every protective instinct that told you to pull him into a hug when you saw how fragile he looked, trying and failing to ease himself as he cried into his elbow. Just as you were mulling over whether or not it’d be okay to touch him, he leaned into you like a reflex, and like a reflex, you wrapped your arms securely around him.

“Shh...it’s okay. Don’t apologize, baby,” you did your best to speak steadily, even if the broken sounds that slipped out as he fully let himself go made it difficult to control your voice. “It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong.”

Jisung buried his face into your chest, hot tears seeping through your shirt and churning your stomach with sympathy. “Did...did you really mean that?” he hiccuped, digging his fingers into your clothes. “Am I that gross?”

“No, Jisung, never,” you could barely contain your own distress. Still, you had to stay composed, for his sake. Knowing Jisung, your guilt would feed into his; it would only make him feel worse when he already thought he’d ruined things for you. “I didn’t mean any of it, angel. It was all play.”

“But you’re right, I did something so disgusting behind your back. ‘M so pathetic. Gross,” he babbled, just short of incoherent with the way he was nestled into you. “You shouldn’t t-touch me. I don’t deserve it.”

You made a sound of pure disbelief, tightening your hold around him instead, rocking gently from side to side in an effort to calm him down. Jisung trembled against you as stifled gasps racked his body, but he followed your movements nonetheless, swaying along. “You’re not gross, Hannie. Please don’t believe that for even a second, okay?” You ran your hand up his quivering back to cradle his head, holding him close and massaging his scalp lightly with your fingers. “I went too far today, huh? I’m so sorry.”

“N-no, I’m—” he sniffled out. “Sorry for being like this. So sensitive.”

“You’re not too sensitive,” you murmured. “It’s my fault, baby. I should’ve checked before saying those things to you.”

You continued playing with his hair as he tried to get ahold of himself, feeling a tinge of relief when his breathing grew a little less erratic the more you soothed him, shaky sobs evening out with each inhale.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffled into your shirt. “Just thought I disappointed you.”

He tensed again, nearly panicking when you loosened your iron grip on his body to pull back and look him in the eye. Your heart broke even further when you saw the state he was in. His eyes—usually so bright—were red and puffy, glassy in a way that was far different from their natural glint. Dried tears stained his face, with fresh ones still brimming in the corners of his eyes and trickling down his cheeks. You wiped them away as tenderly as you could, not wanting to irritate his sensitive skin any further.

“Why did you think that, Hannie?”

“Cause I—,” he cut himself off with another soft hiccup, still struggling to get his emotions under control. “I messed up and couldn’t even take your scolding.”

“You didn’t disappoint me,” you said firmly. “You’re my good boy. So good you can’t even stand the thought of doing something wrong, right?”

He blinked droplets of tears out of his eyes, looking like he wanted nothing more than to bury his face right back into the comfort of your neck. Even so, he managed a tiny nod.

“There we go. I love you no matter what. Don’t ever forget that, okay?”

Your gaze bore intently into his, and Jisung forced himself to fight back the remnants of his self-deprecating thoughts before nodding again. “Okay,” he said softly. “I love you, too. So love me lots, please.”

The affection that gripped you nearly made you coo out loud. You pressed a kiss to his head the moment he leaned back into you, hoping to alleviate any leftover doubts he might have.

“Can I make it up to you?” you whispered. “Wanna show my baby just how loved he is.”

Jisung let out a shy hum, nuzzling his nose into your neck. You weren’t sure what made you giggle more, the ticklish sensation of his soft hair brushing your skin, or how easily his demeanor shifted. Your question had been innocent enough, you’d expected him to want to be held a bit longer, maybe even going to wash up together, but it seemed like he had something else in mind. His lips puckered against your skin in a wet kiss, taking in your scent, then releasing it with a sweet sigh.

“Just tell me what you want and we can do it,” you promised, petting his head, easing his mind back to that comforting haze with every stroke. “Does that sound good to you?”

“Mhm,” he murmured into you. What he said next was hard to make out with his lips squished against you, not quite ready to pull away. “Can we…go easy?”

The question tugged at your heartstrings. “Of course, we’ll go easy, angel. Anything you want.”

Jisung hesitated before deciding on his answer, still keeping his head tucked away into your shoulder. “Want your strap, please,” he breathed. It fanned out against your skin, making goosebumps rise to its surface. The plea was so different from his usual begging. Not shamelessly needy—but rather, timid and uncertain.

“Yeah? You wanna be spoiled?” You stopped playing with the hair at his nape to brush your index finger along his neck, relishing in how that alone was enough to make him shudder against you. “Good boys like you deserve to be treated good, too.”

It was Jisung’s turn to giggle, tinged with the slightest whine. You couldn’t deny the relief you felt hearing that familiar sound again. Reluctantly, he unlatched himself from you at last, already craving to feel your warmth again the instant you slipped off the bed.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Get yourself ready for me.”

Jisung nodded eagerly, some of the liveliness returning to his red eyes. You ruffled his hair, then headed towards your closet, pushing away the final traces of guilt from your mind and replacing them with a determination to make it up to him instead. As you rummaged through your belongings to retrieve your strap-on, it wasn’t long before soft, needy whimpers began to reach you from the bedroom, even sweeter than when you’d first caught him, completely unrestrained this time. As much as they set off a fire in you, you remained patient, taking your time in preparing the toy while his noises grew progressively louder.

Then, a call of your name met your ears. So raspy with need, so weak with desperation, it made your core clench. You tried not to rush yourself, but your composure effectively crumbled when you heard Jisung cry out for you again, loud and clear through the wall. You could’ve laughed—he knew exactly what he was doing, but you were content to let it work, today. With a deep breath, you gathered up your things and returned to the other room.

There, you found Jisung with his shorts completely discarded and his legs spread out, pushing two fingers—slick with the lube he’d taken from the nightstand—in and out of himself obediently. The sight, coupled with the wet sounds each sloppy, uncoordinated pump of his hand created, was enough to cloud your mind entirely with arousal all over again. He looked so perfect, like it was exactly where he belonged; parting his thighs wider as soon as he spotted you, giving you a full view of how well he was fucking himself open for you.

You adjusted the strap’s harness around your waist and settled in between Jisung’s thighs. He pulled his fingers out of himself with a low keen, doe eyes gazing up at you intently as you took over for him, lathering your fingers with lube to slip them inside his twitching hole. A gasp caught in his throat as you did, your angle allowing you to reach even deeper inside of him than his own fingers could, loosening him up further. He tightened around you instantly, sucking you in like his body was begging for anything it could get.

“Look at that,” you gave an appreciative hum. “Already stretched out so perfectly for me. Good boy.”

Jisung barely had the chance to react before you spread your fingers out in a scissor-like motion a few times, sending sparks through his body each time you pressed into his walls. Then, you pulled out of him all at once, leaving him squirming and fluttering around nothing. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help his whine of disappointment, even when he knew what was to come. You gave his nose an affectionate tap with your clean hand before squeezing some lube onto your palm, spreading it along the length of your strap-on until it was thoroughly coated.

“Get comfortable, baby,” you ordered gently.

There was a brief pause as Jisung propped himself up on his elbows, and you faltered for a moment, wondering if he might have changed his mind. He pressed his lips together like he was lost in thought, cheeks squishing adorably in the process.

“Ah, do you think...” he cut himself off with that cute, breathy laugh of his. “Can I—?” Another chuckle. “Can I ride you?”

The sheepish question came as a surprise to you, as did the sharp tingle it sent down your spine. You quirked an eyebrow, barely fighting back your smile when Jisung shied away, bangs falling into his eyes. “I wanna show you what I can do,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “Wanna be your good boy.”

“Jisungie,” you sang, tilting his chin up to make sure your words got through to him. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. You’re already my best boy, let me treat you like it.”

His eyes gleamed, but even as your praise eased his anxious mind, his resolve still didn’t waver. He needed this, you realized. His gaze searched yours for some sign of approval—so hopeful, so hungry, it was all it took for you to understand.

“But...if that’s what my baby wants, then of course you can.”

Jisung perked up at that, every soft, sleepy feature on his face brightening back up. “Thank you!” he chirped. “I’ll be good, I swear!”

You weren’t sure if it was his pure earnesty, or that infectious, heart-shaped grin, but you couldn’t hold back a smile of your own. It was impossible not to be overtaken with fondness, not when he was so grateful for just the chance to have your eyes on him as he ruined himself, all without you having to lift a finger. Shifting from your spot on the mattress, you settled back against the headboard of the bed, patting your thighs to beckon him over. He wasted no time before scrambling into your lap, straddling you so that he hovered mere centimeters above the toy’s head.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you told him, taking the shaft into your hand to line it up with his entrance. “You’ll take it all, won’t you? Just like your pretty hole took my fingers so well.”

Jisung shuddered as you swirled your strap’s slick tip around his rim, bracing himself with a deep inhale before sinking down on it. His breath spilled out in a long, shaky moan as you filled him up bit by bit, his walls instantly tightening around the delicious thickness he’d been aching for. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip, willing himself to push against the friction until every last inch of the toy had disappeared inside of him.

“That’s it, Hannie. Good boy, you make it look so easy.”

Your sweet whispers made it difficult for Jisung to control his breathing as he adjusted to the sensation of being filled to the brim. All he could manage was a weak gasp in response, eyes squeezing shut and insides clenching wildly. Your hands found their way to his hips, sliding your fingers along his tan skin to help soothe him while you waited, once again blown away by how ridiculously small his waist was.

“Pretty boy,” you hummed. Unable to resist, you pressed the pads of your thumbs deep into his flesh, delighted by the way his stomach contracted. “You look so perfect like this, just made to be filled up.”

The boy let out a flustered squeak, hands flying up to cover his face. It was almost amusing how much of a contrast there was in how Jisung vied for your compliments versus how he responded to them. There was no need for false bravado here, no need to fulfill any role when he was already the subject of your adoration.

He squirmed above you slightly, letting out a tiny grunt as the ridges of your strap pressed snugly against his walls. When he finally collected himself enough to speak, his voice came meek, muffled by his palms. “C-can I move?”

“Mm,” you urged, giving his waist another squeeze. “Show me how a good boy does it, Hannie.”

His hands dropped reluctantly from his flushed face and down to your shoulders, gripping them tight to steady himself. With a huff of effort, he lifted his body off your lap, sliding tortuously slow up the toy’s length before landing back down with a sharp smack. He relished in the relief it brought him for a moment before repeating the action, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to find his rhythm.

Jisung’s moans began slipping out of him in no time, rising in pitch and volume each time he sank down all the way to your strap’s hilt, building up a delicious pressure in your core. You ran your hands up and down his sides, feeling up his slender waist and stomach, puffing out with every gasp. “Are you feeling good, baby boy?”

Jisung dug his fingernails into your skin with a whimper, already finding it difficult to string together a coherent sentence. “Yes—ngh—so good,” he choked out. “So full.”

“Cause you’re taking it all so well. Every inch of me,” you praised. “Keep moving just like that, angel. I wanna see your cute little face when you cum all over yourself.”

Jisung mewled out your name, whether it was in shy protest of your words or a plea for more, even he wasn’t sure. You tightened your hold on his waist, hands following his every bounce to help keep him from faltering. The sight of him rocking his hips against yours was nothing short of breathtaking—small beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, tousled hair bouncing cutely, tongue peeking out between his swelling lips. His cock left drops of precum all over his skin each time it slapped against his stomach, crying for release after being denied for so long.

You could tell Jisung’s movements were starting to take a toll on him. He grasped frantically at your shoulders for purchase, trying his best to stay grounded just long enough to bring himself to a climax. His thighs began to tremble, pace growing sloppy both from the repeated strain on his muscles, and from the pleasure making it increasingly difficult for him to focus. You decided to help him out when you caught the frustrated pout forming on his face, lifting yourself to push into him with a newfound force and making him cry out sharply.

“It’s getting rough, huh, baby? Hannie’s working so hard for me. Such a good boy.”

“Hah...th-thank you,” Jisung swallowed down the saliva pooling in his mouth before it could trickle out, leaning in to slump his body against yours, no longer able to stay upright on his own. “Your good boy, ‘m your g’boy. Again. Say it—ah—again, please.”

You softened, indulging him without hesitation when you knew how badly he needed to hear it. “Good boy, Jisungie. My good boy.”

“Yours. Wanna be good for y-you.” He threw his head back suddenly as you hit a perfectly angled thrust. “There!” he gasped, voice cracking into a near-wail. “Right there, please, please, please.”

“There?” you echoed in amusement when he could only writhe around pathetically, all sense of rhythm lost. Your giggle masked just how much it affected you to see him falling apart in your lap like that—his blissed out face, his shameless moans, all tightening the coil in your stomach like his own pleasure was feeding into yours. “You like it there? Keep it up, then, baby.”

Amidst all his begging, your words pierced through Jisung’s foggy brain. They seemed to remind him that he still had some shred of control over the pace, because he picked up the speed of his bouncing again, rolling his body sinfully each time you bottomed out inside him so that your strap grinded against his prostate just right.

“You fucked yourself into such a cute little mess,” you crooned. Jisung whined above you, too far gone to decide if he should hide away from your attention, or bask in it. “Such a little pleaser. You like putting on a show for me?”

You tilted your hips so that your strap brushed against his sweet spot once more, earning a long drawn-out groan from the boy. His mouth hung open, tongue lolling as sound after filthy sound poured out of him nonstop. “Love it...hah...love it s’ much. Watch me, look at me, please.”

His head began thrashing from side to side, the muscles in his stomach clenching and unclenching as his high crept up on him. You hissed softly when he sank his fingernails deep into your flesh, so caught up in his fit of pleasure that he didn’t even process his how hard he was gripping you. All he could make sense of anymore was the heat that seared through his abdomen each time he sank down on your strap.

“You’re so good, baby. So good for me. Are you close?” you purred, rubbing small circles into his hips with your thumbs. Your voice was so gentle in contrast to the harsh smacking of his thighs against yours, it made him dizzy.

“Ah, yeah, yeah. Gonna cum. P-please, ‘m so close. Please—”

You jerked up to meet him halfway, burying your strap so deep inside him that he swore he saw stars. “Cum for me, baby boy. You’ve earned it.”

You took his bouncing cock into your grasp, feeling it throb in your palm as you began to stroke him. With just a few glides of your hand, Jisung was sent over the edge. He let out a choked sob as his orgasm hit him at last, his seed shooting onto his stomach in hot spurts, more intensely than usual after being pent up for so long. You milked him through his high, admiring the way the white ropes of cum decorated his tan skin as you pumped out every drop.

Jisung panted heavily above you, jaw still slack, quivering in place as the aftershocks rippled through his body. When the last of his seed had dribbled out from his tip, you carefully released his length from your hold, allowing it to fall limp. The rise and fall of his chest gradually began to slow, and he leaned into your hand the instant you rested it on his cheek, regardless of the fluids coating it. Your touch washed away the last of the hot adrenaline pumping through his system, replacing it with an overwhelming sense of calm; safety.

“My Hannie,” you murmured. “My sweet boy. You did so well for me.”

Jisung’s eyes fluttered open at last, still a bit hazy, but just as full of adoration for you as your gaze was for him. He managed a lazy, lopsided grin before collapsing forward to nuzzle into you, pressing his nose to your neck and breathing in. With your warmth enveloping him, your scent surrounding him, and the fullness of your strap still nestled inside him, you knew as well as he did that there was no chance of him getting up any time soon. The sticky feeling of his release seeping through your clothes was uncomfortable, but you wrapped your arms around him nonetheless. It was worth all the clean laundry in the world, to hold him like this.

Jisung pressed his lips against your neck in a chaste kiss, catching you by surprise. When he pulled his head back with a sigh of pure bliss, that familiar gleam was back in his eyes, and you knew that he had fully recovered from earlier.

You leaned forward to give him a kiss of your own, smiling into it when you heard the faint sound of his stomach growling, followed by a cute, muffled giggle of embarrassment spilling from his mouth to yours.

“By the way,” you brushed your lips against his. “I made breakfast.”

#skz smut #sub!skz #sub!jisung #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #jisung smut #dom!reader #skz x reader #han smut

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pizzaapeteer · 2 months

Text

Springtime fun

Pairings: Enzo Berkshire x female reader Summary: 2.5 k. Enzo is infatuated by you in a sundress, so captative by you in it that he has to take you right now.

Warnings: nsfw, semi-public sex, female reader, swearing. Divider: Pretty divider found here!

a/n: I'm super glad to have finally finished this as it has been in my WIP since December 💀 Many of my friends will know about that so this one's for you. Ty for all the lovely encouragement for helping me finish it 💛 also heads up this is actually my first PIV smut.

Enzo loved spring. He loved the flowers that bloomed in the gardens, which he often picked to give to you. He loved watching alongside you the animals awaken from hibernation, listening as you listed facts about them. He loved being able to lie outside in the grass with his friends after class, enjoying the warmth of the sun as they messed around. But most of all, he loved that spring meant sundresses. He had grown fond of them and loved seeing the different colours that paired well against your skin tone. The delicate shape of the dresses and how they hugged your body. He loved how versatile they were. Sometimes you'd wear a long flowy, one that would swirl in the wind or a short flare, one that fell just at the mid of your thighs. Some of them had lacy sleeves that covered your shoulders with elegant necklines. Others were backless, revealing to Enzo that you weren't wearing a bra. On the whole, when you wore a sundress, he was in heaven.

He can still recall the first time he saw you in one, the weekend before Easter break. Sprawled out on a spot of grass near the black lake, Enzo lay with his friends. The hot sun warmed his neck, a constant breeze drifting by. He had been attempting to catch the little daisies Mattheo had plucked and rolled into balls to launch at him. Theo watched, amused, before turning his attention to snicker at Draco’s arrogant attempt to teach Astoria how to skip stones. Blaise rested nearby on a picnic mat, not wanting to get grass stains on his pants. The sound of your laughter caught Enzo’s ears, whipping his head up to see you and Pansy approaching, carrying a jug of lemonade. His eyes rose, breath hitching as he took you in. Dressed in a royal blue sundress, scattered with white daisies, the colour popping against your skin. He dragged his eyes up your exposed legs, practically salivating at the sight of your curves fitting snugly in the frock. There was something about the sundress that made you look elegant yet sensual. Though, clearly not just to him, as he caught sight of his friend’s stares.

He stood up, licking his lips, still holding the slightly crumpled daisies in his hands. Walking forward, he embraced you in a hug, a smile pulling at his face. His hands wrapped around you, feeling the soft skin of your back. “Hey gorgeous,” he whispered, his face pulling back to give you a passionate kiss. He felt your hands slide around his neck as you leaned up on your tippy toes to meet his kiss. “I like your dress,” a flirty smirk stretched across his face. The sound of your sweet giggle was music to his ears as you thanked him. Remembering the daisies, he unfolded his hands, chuckling, “for you.” You beamed at him, your eyes sparkling with amusement at his ‘gift’. “Not your usual flowers, Enz, but I accept.” He smiled, satisfied, taking your hand and leading you to join the others. Gracefully, you sat down on the rug beside Blaise, noticing Pansy had already settled herself down next to Mattheo. Enzo watched cautiously as Blaise gave you a once over, taking his own seat across from you. He immersed himself in conversation with you, admiring the way you rambled about your day. His fingers found comfort resting on your thighs, tracing circles. The warm sun shone, as breezes of wind blew your dress up slightly. As you talked, he found his mind wandering, unable to fully concentrate. Because of his height, he overlooked you even when sitting, allowing him to peer perfectly at the top of your breasts, sitting snugly against the dress’s neckline. His fingers twitched against your leg, pinching your skin softly as he thought about your nipples.

At Pansy’s offer of lemonade, Enzo’s gaze turned momentarily to accept. He reached out to receive the two drinks, passing one to you. Cheering with you, his eyes observed the way you drank thirstily. Too fast though, as some of the liquid spilled from your cup down your mouth. It ran rapidly, dripping down your cleavage, causing you to squeal at the cold sensation. Your outburst grabbed the attention of your friends as you looked up, smiling sheepishly while muttering about being clumsy. Blaise shook his head, chuckling as he passed you a napkin, watching you wipe the liquid away.

As you cleaned yourself up, Enzo's brown eyes caught your attention, his honey orbs twinkling with mischief. “We’re going to take a walk,” Enzo announced, grabbing your hand and pulling you up, leaving no time for you to protest. You stood, almost stumbling, over Blaise as you found your footing, trailing behind in Enzo’s firm hold. “Enzo, slow down,” you exclaimed, practically tripping over your feet as you trailed behind Enzo, his long legs striding down past the trees. He flicked his head, giving you a cheeky grin over his shoulder before he slowed down under a large pine tree.

You took in the pretty scenery as you furrowed your brows, wondering why he had just pulled you away from your friends. Enzo seized the moment of your distraction to push you gently against the tree, grinning as you gasped. His lips invaded your neck, peppering hungry kisses across your soft skin. One of his hands reached down to grasp your hip, lightly pushing you further against the tree. You moaned into the kiss, your hands finding their way around his waist, the bark scratching your back. Enzo’s touch wandered down your thigh with his other hand, sliding it up under your dress. “Do you know what this dress is doing to me?” he mumbled against your ear, nipping at it. You looked up into his sweet brown eyes, his pupils conveying his lust clearly. He flashed you an irresistible smile and, in a moment's time, his arms enveloped around your hips, effortlessly hoisting you up. His muscles flexed, the clear evidence of his quidditch training shown as he secured you against the tree with one arm, the other trailing up to pull needily at the neckline of your dress. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, your hands sliding up to grip his broad shoulders. The movement of your dress spilling, revealing further the tops of your chest, had Enzo groaning against your ear. “Fuck, and you're not even wearing a bra. You're driving me mad, baby.”

You squirmed against his eagerly aggressive hold, never having seen Enzo this feral before. The feeling of his hands tending to your exposed breasts, kneading at the complimentary flesh, driving you crazy. His fingers pulled further at the fabric, wanting to see all of you. You gasped, leaning your head back against the tree, his head moving down to capture your perky nipples in his sweet mouth. The taste of lemonade filled his senses, mixed with the sweetness of your skin as his tongue lapped at it. His tongue swipes at the soft buds, the sounds of your mews making his cock twitch against his now constricting trousers.

He’d never seen a piece of clothing accentuate your figure quite like this sundress had. The captivating blend of your alluring presence and almost bewitching sensualness drove him wild. He couldn’t believe what sorcery this was. He craved you in a way he never had before, his patience lost in the moment, unwilling to wait. His hands scrunched up the fabric, pushing your dress higher, his fingertips grazing against your lacy undies. He dragged a whimper from you, pleading for more, the eagerness of Enzo’s movements and his desire to make quick work created a pool of wetness between your thighs. He rested you down for an instant before his hands shifted, hiking one of your legs up and pressing your thigh firmly into place against the tree. The cool air blew between your spread legs, making you shiver, Enzo’s hunger making you whine. He shot you a teasing smile at your impatience. “Gonna fuck you hard in your pretty little sundress.”

His free hand pulled at the restricting material, snapping your panties and extracting an agitated gasp from you. His grin widened smugly, stuffing your panties into his pocket. “Got your knickers in a twist, did I?” he chuckled at his own joke. You roll your eyes playfully at your boyfriend, watching in anticipation for his next move. Still with your leg clutched by one of his hands, he skillfully maneuvered his belt and pants down with the other. Your eyes drifted, your core throbbing seeing his hardened cock, the pink tip already dampened with pre-cum. You bit your lip, eyes blown with lust as you yearned for him to fill you up. He rubs his throbbing cock along your slit, coating it in your wetness teasingly, his eyes locked on your whiney face. He smirked, leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss, aggressively slipping his tongue into your mouth. He took advantage of you being distracted to plunge his hips forward, sinking his cock deep inside of you, revelling in the way he heard your whines turn into muffled moans. His lips moved against yours, not letting you escape his ferocious kiss, his hand moving to caress your face. His fingers clasping at the nape of your neck, tilting your head upward.

Your head spins, overwhelmed by the feeling of him pounding into your cunt and your breath being stolen by his sweet, ravenous lips. Your hands find their way into his hair tugging at his brown locks, making him grunt as his head jerks back, allowing you to catch your breath. He presses you further into the tree, his pace increasing as you throw your head back, mouth agape as moans fall from your lips. His grip on your thigh tightens as he uses you as his stability, his fingers kneading into your soft skin, no doubt leaving marks.

“Fuck me. Look how well you’re taking me. Such a pretty little slut letting me fuck you out in the open.” His words have your lips parting, sensual moans falling from them. Your head tilts back to lean on the tree, your eyes scrunching shut. Your mind rushes with a state of wooziness, cheeks burning as your body rises in heat. He loves the way you fall apart at his words as hips thrust roughly, groaning as he watches the way your pussy clenches around his cock. His hand reaches to rub your clit, erupting a string of incoherent whines out of you. The feel of your shallow breath against his skin makes him shiver. Your heart thumping while your body convulses with each thrust, the head of his cock slamming repeatedly inside, hitting that perfect spot. The noises of slapping echoes softly around the forest floor, though Enzo is so consumed with how his body is feeling to question if he took you further enough away from his friends.

“Such a good girl, that’s it clench around my cock, baby. God. Your pussy is so tight, you sound so fucking pretty.” Enzo’s words were spilling out of him in mumbles as his muscles tightened around his own pleasure building. He leans his head against your forehead as he rubs your clit faster, holding off barely on his own orgasm. He desperately wants to hear you fall apart before he does, his lips brushing yours as he whispers, “come on pretty girl, be a good girl and cum for me.” His words of encouragement send you over the edge as your body shakes, a rise of pleasure exploding through you. Your pussy pulses, squeezing him as your hands grasp at his shoulders, nails digging grasping at his shirt. A series of your own incoherent words fall from your lips in lustful moans. Groans fall from Enzo’s lips, his eyes shut as you come undone, her unravelling triggering his own climax. His hands clench your thighs, pressing his hips further, enjoying how your pussy shakes at the feeling of him filling you up.

He listens to the combination of your breathless pants blending together with his as your foreheads stick together. You two stay close, his cock resting comfortably still in your warm pussy, not wanting to pull out yet. As his eyes open, he takes in the gorgeous appearance of your flushed cheeks, the heightened desire fading from your eyes. A smile spreads across his face, his hand releasing your thigh back down. Tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his hand cups your cheek. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.” His lips are on yours in a moment, taking you by surprise.

The kiss is sweet and passionate. The feeling of warmth and love radiating off of him. Your lips moved in unison in a fervent dance, matching each other. With your arms wrapped around his neck, you moan, feeling him twitch, still being nestled inside you. Enzo pulls back with a cheeky grin, before he shifts his hips, removing himself from you.

He tucks himself back into his trousers, a sense of satisfaction flooding him, his eyes never leaving you. Amusement pools in them, watching how those once feral hands now delicately smooth out the fabric of your dress. Merlin, that dress, was going to be the death of him. Watching you fix yourself up just made him admire once again how it captured such an alluring feeling within him.

Your movements are paused, your attention caught by the feeling of cum dripping slowly down your inner thigh. His brows raised, chuckling, taking in the nuance of her reaction as your cheeks blushed a deeper red. “Uh Enz, my panties please.” Your hand reached out, prompting him to hand the stuffed lace back to you.

He chuckles, “No no, they’re staying with me, princess.” He notices your concerned look at heading back to your friend's pantie-less. “It’s alright. Everyone will just think it’s lemonade.” His face breaks into a cheeky grin at his assurance, sliding his tongue over his lips. The idea of you sitting soaked in his cum for the rest of the picnic in nothing but your dress is sending blood straight to his groin once again.

You roll your eyes at his stupid statement, lunging at him to grab your underwear back. He’s quick and is already running past you and back towards the group, leaving you no choice but to follow. While your attempt to catch him is not apathetic, his legs are longer than yours and he reaches the clearing your friends are still sitting in first. At the sight of them you stall your running, catching your breath, shooting Enzo a glare. He chuckles, manoeuvring between Draco and Theo to sit himself down, patting the picnic blanket for you to join. The others turn their heads at your entrance, noticing your slightly flushed expression and Enzo’s extra cheeky nature. Theo speaks up, always nosey to find out information. “How was your walk?”

Enzo watches with mischievous eyes as you plant a seat down beside him, as he replies to Theo. “Scenic, lots of pretty things down there.” He grins at you, trying not to give away too much. You blush, meeting his gaze already thinking about the next time you can wear another sundress.

Masterlist

#Enzo berkshire #Lorenzo berkshire #Enzo berkshire imagine #Enzo berkshire smut #Lorenzo berkshire smut #enzo x reader #enzo x f reader #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theo nott #mattheo riddle #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson

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