#but maybe it could be some naughty spin off... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aspenmissing · 4 months ago

Note

Hello, I hope you're doing well 💫 Could you write Arcane characters with Reader, where Reader is a little tease? Like she's whispering something naughty / dirty minded to them an casually walks away. Leaving them stunned or even flustered before they need to attend an important meeting. Thank youuu :))

ᴘʀɪᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ꜱᴘɪᴄᴇ || 8962 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴛᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜱᴘɪᴄᴇ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ (ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ - ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴘʀɪꜱᴇᴅ)

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏᴏᴏ ᴍʏ ꜱᴛᴀʀ! ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʏ ᴏʀ ᴍʏʏʏʏʏʏʏ, ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ! ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴀʟʟ ꜱᴏʀᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜱᴀʏɪɴɢ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴍɪɴᴅ! ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇɢᴀʀᴅʟᴇꜱꜱ, ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ!! <3 <3

JAYCE

Jayce paced around his study, the weight of the upcoming council meeting heavy on his shoulders. Papers and reports lay scattered across his desk, and his mind raced with strategies, politics, and potential conflicts. As much as he detested the formality of the council, the future of Piltover was at stake, and he couldn’t afford to fail. His fingers tightened around a particularly frustrating document, the edges of it crinkling beneath his grip.

He adjusted his jacket, trying to shake the tightness in his chest, and ran a hand through his hair, attempting to calm his nerves before the meeting. The door creaked open softly, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Y/N standing in the doorway. Her smile was mischievous, her eyes glinting with a teasing, almost predatory gleam.

"You look a little tense," she purred, stepping inside with the confidence of someone who knew they had every bit of his attention. The door clicked shut behind her, a soft sound that seemed to echo in the otherwise quiet room.

Jayce sighed, trying to focus on the papers in front of him, but his gaze followed her movements as she glided closer, each step light and deliberate. The way she walked, the curve of her hips, the quiet sway of her body—it was all too distracting. He forced his eyes back to the papers, though he couldn't quite ignore the electricity that seemed to crackle in the air whenever she was near.

"I have a council meeting in an hour," Jayce muttered, though his voice lacked the usual authority. He knew the council was going to be a pain, but Y/N always had this way of throwing him off balance, especially when he needed to be focused.

Y/N stopped behind him, close enough for her presence to invade his every sense. She was just behind him now, so near he could feel the warmth of her body against his back. He couldn’t help the subtle shift in his posture, a quiet tension beginning to build in his muscles.

“Poor Jayce,” she whispered in a soft, honeyed tone. The words sent a shiver down his spine, and her breath—warm and light—tickled his ear. "I bet you'd rather be doing something... else... with me, wouldn't you?"

His body went rigid, a flicker of surprise catching him off guard. His pulse quickened, his thoughts scattering at the sultry quality of her voice. He swallowed hard, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “Y/N,” he warned, his voice low, though there was an unmistakable hitch in it. "Not now. We’re—"

But she didn’t let him finish. Her lips brushed against his ear, sending a tremor through him, as she murmured, "Maybe after the meeting, you can show me exactly how much you need me. I could make it worth your while… in every way imaginable."

Jayce’s breath caught in his throat. His heart raced, and for a moment, the room seemed to spin. He turned toward her, his mind racing to keep pace with the intensity of what she’d just said, but she was already stepping back with a playful, almost innocent grin. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“You’re terrible,” he muttered under his breath, though the flush creeping up his neck betrayed his efforts to remain composed. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, he almost forgot the weight of the council meeting, the looming decisions he needed to make. His mind was clouded with the thought of her, her words, and what she’d just put in his head.

Y/N shrugged casually, her smile never wavering, as though she hadn’t just completely unravelled him in the span of a few seconds. "I’m just trying to help you relax," she said with a wink, her voice light, as though the suggestion she’d made was the most casual thing in the world. “See you at the meeting, my love.”

She turned and walked out of the room, the soft clicking of her heels on the floor fading as she left him standing there. Jayce stood frozen for a moment, his hands gripping the edge of the desk, his mind racing. She had that power over him, always able to leave him undone with just a few words, her presence searing through him.

He inhaled deeply, forcing himself to focus. He had a council meeting to attend. But as he tried to centre himself, he couldn't help but picture her, her teasing words echoing in his mind, making it impossible to concentrate. Maybe, just maybe, he’d take her up on her offer after all.

A day later, Jayce and Y/N walked through the hallways of the academy, their casual conversation interrupted by the sound of Viktor’s footsteps tapping against the stone floor. His cane clicked softly with each step as he approached, and Jayce couldn’t help but glance over at Y/N. She was walking a little more carefully than usual, her movements slower, and every so often, she’d give a subtle wince. It was clear that her body was reminding her of the "fun" they'd shared the night before, and Jayce smirked at the memory.

“Something wrong?” Viktor’s voice called from behind them, his cane tapping rhythmically as he leaned on it, his curious gaze scanning Y/N's careful steps.

Y/N glanced at him, her face smoothing into her usual calm demeanor, though there was a glint in her eyes that Jayce caught. She offered Viktor a polite smile, though it seemed a little too sweet for comfort. "Oh, nothing to worry about, Viktor."

Jayce bit his lip to stifle a chuckle, but it didn’t go unnoticed. Viktor raised an eyebrow, his gaze narrowing slightly as he took in Y/N’s careful movements. “You’re walking strangely today. Did something happen? Are you injured?”

Y/N’s smile didn’t falter, but her gaze flickered over to Jayce, who now looked far too innocent, though his lips twitched with barely contained amusement. She took a deep breath, adjusting herself slightly as she casually glanced back at Viktor. "No, no injury. Just… a little tired from last night."

Viktor’s cane clicked once on the floor as he processed her words. He looked back and forth between the two of them, clearly still unsure. “Tired… from what?”

Jayce couldn’t hold back any longer, a grin spreading across his face. "Viktor, I think you might be overthinking it," he says. Y/N just nods, a faint, knowing smile on her lips.

Y/N shot Jayce a playful glare, but the corner of her mouth quirked into a barely-contained smile. Viktor, always the literal one, seemed to be trying to piece together the meaning behind Jayce’s words at a torturously slow pace. The silence stretched on as Viktor’s thoughtful expression lingered, his eyes shifting from Y/N to Jayce.

Finally, Jayce couldn’t resist any longer. "We assure you" he said, his voice still playful, "Y/N’s just a little worn out from all the… paperwork. Took her all night to do" He shot her a teasing glance.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smirk that formed on her face. “You’re unbelievable, Jayce,” she muttered under her breath, though there was a fondness in her voice that made Jayce’s heart race a little faster.

Viktor seemed to accept the answer, though his expression was still puzzled. He adjusted his posture and gave them a nod. “Ah, I see. Well, if you two are… content, that’s good.”

Jayce chuckled, slinging an arm around Y/N’s shoulders as they continued walking. “Oh, we’re very content, Viktor. Trust me on that.”

Y/N shot him a look, but her smile was soft. “You are lucky I love you, Jayce,” she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

Viktor, still a bit uncertain, shook his head with a soft murmur about “human relationships” and their complexity before walking ahead, his cane tapping steadily on the floor.

Jayce and Y/N shared a quiet laugh as they continued down the hall, the air around them filled with a sense of shared amusement and unspoken understanding.

VIKTOR

Viktor's fingers danced over the complex blueprints spread out in front of him, the faint hum of machinery and the occasional click of his mechanical arm adding a subtle rhythm to the lab. He was so absorbed in his work, adjusting various parameters on the screens, his mind racing with calculations, that he didn't notice the soft steps approaching.

A small smirk tugged at your lips as you slipped into the lab, the door closing softly behind you. You watched Viktor for a moment, his back turned, the intensity of his focus making him seem almost untouchable. But not to you. Never to you.

You glided over, the soft rustle of your clothes the only warning as you leaned against him from behind, pressing your chest gently against his back. Your breath was warm against his neck, the faintest hint of a teasing smile playing at the corner of your lips. "Still working, Viktor?" you purred, voice low and playful.

Viktor froze for just a second, the sudden warmth against his back making his breath catch. His mechanical hand hovered over the console as if debating whether to continue his work or acknowledge your presence. He could feel the soft pressure of your chest, your body close enough to make him keenly aware of every inch between the two of you.

"Y/N..." His voice was slightly strained, but he quickly regained his composure. "I’m in the middle of something important. Could you—"

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against the back of his neck as you whispered, "I know you're busy, but I think you need a break."

Viktor's fingers twitched on the console, a surge of warmth rushing up his spine as your breath tickled his skin. He exhaled slowly, trying to push aside the distracting pull of your presence. "I don’t have time for distractions right now."

You smirked, your hands slowly sliding around his waist, the softness of your touch sending a jolt of heat through his body. "I think you're lying, Viktor. I’m the best kind of distraction."

He was finding it hard to concentrate now. The last few calculations he’d been so absorbed in were slipping from his mind as your presence seemed to cloud every thought. Your fingers gently traced patterns on his waist, teasing him, never quite touching the places he wanted. Viktor's jaw clenched as he struggled to keep his cool.

"You know how hard it is for me to concentrate when you're this close," he muttered, finally turning his head slightly to meet your eyes, his gaze sharp with a mixture of frustration and desire.

"That’s the idea," you teased, your lips curling into a playful grin. "Sometimes, Viktor, you need to be reminded that you’re not just your work."

His breath hitched again, and before he could respond, you pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck, your lips lingering just long enough to make him shiver. The warm sensation spread down his spine as his head tilted back ever so slightly.

You smiled, pulling back just a fraction. "I could help you with your work... if you’d like."

Viktor’s usual composure was cracking under the weight of your teasing, the cool, calculated scientist he often prided himself on nowhere to be found. His hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he let out a breathy sigh. "You are a constant temptation, Y/N."

You grinned, satisfied by the effect you were having on him. "You love it," you murmured, your voice a soft promise.

Viktor could only shake his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips as he finally pushed aside his work, turning in his chair to face you completely. "You’re insufferable, but... I suppose a break wouldn’t hurt."

"Good," you said, leaning down and kissing him softly, the gentle tease in your movements turning into something deeper, a silent promise of more to come.

And for the moment, the lab, the work, and the world outside faded into nothing. Only the two of you remained.

Jayce walked down the hallway of the Piltover Academy, humming a quiet tune to himself as he approached the lab. He had spent most of the day tinkering with his own projects and had figured it was a good time to check on his friend. The door was slightly ajar, and he didn’t think much of it—Viktor often left it open when he was in deep focus.

As he got closer, though, a series of strange noises reached his ears. At first, it was subtle—a soft thud—but then it came again, louder, followed by a low, breathy sound that almost sounded like... a moan?

Jayce paused in his tracks, blinking and trying to process what he was hearing. No. No way. He shook his head. He had to be imagining things, right? But then, there it was again—a bang—followed by another distinct sound, like a deep exhale, muffled but still unmistakable. And, was that a soft groan?

His face turned a shade of crimson as he stood frozen in place, his hand hovering over the door handle. Okay, no. This can’t be happening. Viktor would never...

Another bang. This time, it was followed by a faint, breathless chuckle.

"Y/N... you're really not lying," Viktor's voice came through the door, a mix of amusement and something else Jayce couldn’t quite put his finger on. "You really do make the best distraction."

Jayce’s eyes widened. He didn’t even have to know the details to get the gist. A mix of confusion, disbelief, and... discomfort filled him, and before he could talk himself out of it, he quickly turned on his heel and began walking away, as fast as his legs could carry him.

He nearly collided with a group of students walking in the hallway, but he didn’t even notice, his mind racing with red-hot embarrassment. All he could hear was the sound of his own pounding heartbeat.

By the time he reached the end of the hall, he muttered to himself, "I did not just hear that. I did not walk in on that. Nope."

The poor engineer, now a bright red tomato, wiped a hand over his face, trying to erase the mental image.

"I’m never going to look at Viktor the same way again..." he mumbled under his breath, practically sprinting down the hall to anywhere but there.

As he turned the corner, he accidentally bumped into another passing student, who raised an eyebrow at him.

"Are you okay, Sir?" she asked.

Jayce, still flushed and jittery, stammered, "Fine, fine! Just—uh, just... don't go near the lab." The student gave him a puzzled look but didn’t press further. Meanwhile, Jayce was already several steps ahead, muttering to himself, "I swear to all that's holy, I can never unhear that."

Meanwhile, inside the lab, Y/N, completely oblivious to Jayce’s awkward retreat, was grinning mischievously as she applied just the right amount of pressure to Viktor’s tense shoulders. He let out another sigh of relief as she worked the knots from his back, her hands firm but gentle.

"Relax, Viktor. You’re so stiff," she teased, her fingers massaging the tension from his muscles. "I told you, a little bit of distraction is all you need."

Viktor, leaning into the touch with a grateful smile, gave a quiet laugh. "I can’t say you were wrong. I hadn’t realized how much I needed this until now." He turned his head just slightly to meet her eyes. "But I suppose I should thank you for reminding me of the importance of... relaxation."

"You’re welcome," she said with a wink, her hands still working on his back. "I’ve got plenty more distractions if you want them."

Viktor chuckled, but it was quickly replaced with another low exhale of relief as her hands moved lower down his spine. "You really do have a gift," he said, the humour in his voice softening into something more appreciative. "A very... unique gift."

Unbeknownst to them, Jayce’s face would never be quite the same again.

JAYVIK

The warmth of the late afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows of their shared home. The living room was quiet, save for the faint crackling of a fire in the hearth. Viktor sat in his favorite chair, a book in hand, his mind more focused on the scientific theories he was scribbling in the margins than the world around him. Beside him, Jayce leaned against the armrest, his gaze lazy as he absently flipped through papers, the weight of the day pressing lightly on his shoulders.

Their peaceful moment was broken by the soft sound of footsteps approaching. Viktor's eyes flickered, alert to the presence of their shared lover before he even heard her voice.

Y/N strolled into the room, her bare feet making little sound on the wooden floor. She was clad in nothing more than a thin, satin robe that clung to her curves, the edges teasingly open, showing off more than it hid. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves, and the faintest smirk played on her lips as she caught sight of the two men.

Without a word, she sauntered past them, her hips swaying seductively with each step. Jayce's eyes widened, his pen halting mid-air, a soft exhale slipping from his lips.

Viktor, ever the composed one, raised an eyebrow but couldn't quite hide the spark of interest flickering in his gaze. He adjusted his position in the chair, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but the sight of her walking with such a confident, teasing air... it was too much.

Y/N reached the kitchen, her robe barely covering anything as she opened the cupboard, leisurely pulling out a drink. She didn’t hurry, didn’t rush. Instead, she took her sweet time, her back to the boys, fully aware of their eyes on her. Viktor let out a low sigh, feeling the pull of desire in his chest, but it was Jayce who was the first to break the silence.

“Y/N, you know what you're doing…” he murmured, his voice strained.

She turned her head over her shoulder, flashing them a sly smile, “Do I?”

Without waiting for a response, Y/N grabbed the drink, tipping her head back in a slow, deliberate motion as she took a sip. Her gaze flicked back to the men, her eyes glinting with mischief.

Then, with a sultry smile, she walked back toward the bedroom, her steps purposeful, teasing—like she knew exactly what was going to happen.

Both men watched, entranced, as she swayed her hips, the fabric of her robe gently moving with her. The air between them thickened, the shared tension palpable.

It took barely a moment for them to glance at one another. Viktor’s lips curled into a grin, his hand tightening around his cane, feeling a rush of excitement. He couldn’t help himself.

Without a word, Viktor stood, his movements quick but controlled, tapping his cane sharply against Jayce’s leg to give himself a head start.

Jayce yelped in surprise, a mix of annoyance and amusement flashing in his eyes. Viktor didn’t wait. He was already moving toward the hallway, his pace quickening as he rushed to follow their lover, the promise of something much more tantalizing ahead.

Jayce cursed under his breath but quickly recovered, making his own move to catch up. However, Viktor was already rounding the corner of the hallway, just a few steps ahead of him. There was determination in Viktor's eyes, his focus solely on their shared lover, and that was all Jayce needed to know.

Y/N was already perched on the edge of the bed, still sipping her drink, a playful look in her eyes as she raised an eyebrow at their frantic entrance.

“Did you think I wouldn't notice?” she purred, setting the drink down on the nightstand.

Viktor wasted no time, his voice low and commanding as he approached her. “You are a troublemaker.”

Jayce joined them, a grin spreading across his face as he closed the distance. “But we can’t say we mind,” he added, his hand brushing against her arm, pulling her into the embrace of the two men.

Y/N smirked, her teasing nature only growing stronger as she leaned in between them, pressing a quick kiss to Viktor’s lips before turning to Jayce. “I just wanted to see who would give in first.”

The room was filled with the hum of anticipation, and as the three of them melted together, the teasing had only just begun.

And neither Viktor nor Jayce were ever ones to back down from a challenge.

The soft light of morning crept through the windows, casting a hazy glow over the kitchen. The gentle hum of the house was accompanied by the faint scent of fresh coffee brewing in the corner. At the kitchen table, Y/N sat slumped slightly, her head resting against her hand, as she poked listlessly at the plate in front of her. A half-eaten piece of toast lay forgotten, crumbs scattered across the surface as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

Her hair, usually so perfectly styled, was a wild tangle, the strands falling in all directions like a messy halo around her face. Her neck was dotted with love bites—small marks of the night before that spoke of the passion and playfulness she had shared with Viktor and Jayce. Her robe, now more like a crumpled sheet of fabric, clung loosely to her form as she sighed deeply, her eyelids fluttering with exhaustion.

She hadn’t been able to sleep much—too much energy, too much of them. But now, in the quiet aftermath, the exhaustion was hitting her full force. Still, there was something undeniably satisfying in the way her body felt—tired but content, sore in places that only told a story the two men would know.

From the doorway, Viktor stood watching her, his tired but sharp gaze softening as he took in the sight. The bruises on her skin, the weariness in her posture, it all made him smile in that quiet, reserved way of his. He had been up for a while, working as usual, but now he couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate the view of her. The slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips said everything—he was pleased, content, and thoroughly satisfied with how the night had gone.

Jayce entered from the hallway behind him, rubbing his eyes and yawning, looking just as disheveled, though his energy seemed a little more… vibrant. He glanced over at Y/N, a soft chuckle escaping him. “I think someone’s feeling the effects of last night.”

Y/N mumbled something incoherent, not even bothering to look up as she shifted in her seat, trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes. “You two are insatiable,” she muttered, her voice husky from sleep and the remnants of desire still lingering in her.

Viktor walked over to the table, his footsteps quiet on the wood, and placed a mug of coffee in front of her with a knowing glance. "I thought you might need this," he said, his voice low but tender.

Y/N barely lifted her head as she reached for the mug, sipping slowly and savouring the warmth. “I think I might need a nap before I can function,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jayce, now standing behind her, smirked and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "You don't get off that easy," he teased. "Besides, I think it’s time we take care of you a little. We’ll make sure you’re properly taken care of."

Her eyes cracked open just enough to glance up at him, a glimmer of mischief returning to her gaze despite the exhaustion. "Oh? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"

Viktor chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he sat across from her. "By ensuring you rest properly." He leaned in a little, his tone suddenly more serious but still warm. "You did, after all, wear us out last night."

Y/N rolled her eyes with a half-smile, but even as she did, she felt the weight of their words. There was comfort in their closeness, a sense of being cared for in a way she hadn’t known she needed. She could feel the tension melting away from her shoulders as Viktor and Jayce exchanged looks, their silent communication clear—they both had their ways of ensuring she was okay.

Her smile softened, and she finally pushed the plate aside, resting her head on her hand again. "I think I could go for a few more hours of sleep. But only if you two promise not to steal all the blankets this time."

Jayce laughed and leaned closer, wrapping his arms around her from behind and pressing a playful kiss to her neck. "We'll be good, I promise."

Viktor, watching them, simply nodded. "We'll take care of everything. Rest now, Y/N."

And with that, she closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax, feeling the warmth of her two lovers, the quiet rhythm of the morning settling around them. It was a perfect kind of exhaustion, the kind that only came after a night full of passion and love, the kind where all she needed was a little time to recharge before the next round of teasing—and chasing—began.

VANDER

In the dim light of Vander's bar, the last few patrons trickled out, leaving behind an almost deafening silence that filled the space with a heavy sense of anticipation. Y/N moved gracefully, her actions purposeful but slow, as she wiped down the tables that still glistened faintly from the evening's chaos.

Her back was turned to Vander, and as she bent over one of the tables to clean it thoroughly, she made sure to arch her spine just enough to catch his attention. The motion was deliberate, knowing he was behind her, but she wasn't in a rush. She swiped the cloth slowly, exaggeratedly curving her body and sticking her backside out toward him with a mischievous smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

Vander’s eyes narrowed, his breath caught in his chest as he watched her, hands still gripping the edge of the counter. He couldn’t help it—he was drawn to the way she moved, so fluid, so perfectly in control of every moment, every action. It made him want to take a step forward, but he remained rooted to the spot, as though savoring the tension building between them.

His pulse began to race with each intentional, languid motion of Y/N's. She wasn’t looking at him, but he knew she felt him there, felt his gaze. The way she adjusted her stance just so, leaning into the curve of her body, it wasn’t by accident. And the longer she took, the more it drove him wild. His fingers flexed at his sides, itching to touch her, but he knew—he knew better than to rush this.

The air thickened, and Vander felt his heart rate pick up as Y/N deliberately took her time. Every subtle move seemed to draw him in deeper, the distance between them so close, yet still far enough to tease. She wasn’t looking at him, but she knew he was there, and it made her pulse race with excitement. She could feel his gaze burning into her, even though she kept her focus on the table in front of her. The dim lighting only heightened the tension, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch and grow with each passing second.

When she finished wiping down the last corner, she gave a soft sigh, satisfied with her work. But as she stood up, she wasn’t quick to straighten her posture. No, instead, she lingered for a moment, her back still arched, feeling his presence behind her like a powerful force. She could feel him getting closer, like the inevitable pull of a magnet, but she didn’t move—just stayed there, letting him make the first move.

Without a word, Vander closed the distance between them. His hands slid around her waist, gripping her gently but firmly, pulling her back against him. The warmth of his body enveloped her in an instant, and Y/N let out a soft, contented sigh, her muscles relaxing as she melted into his embrace. Her lips curving into a teasing grin as she felt him so close, so tangible.

“Careful, Y/N,” Vander’s voice rumbled low against the nape of her neck. His breath was warm, sending a shiver down her spine as he pressed his body closer to hers, his hands tightening slightly around her waist. He could feel her heart racing against his chest, the rhythm almost in sync with his own. His lips hovered over her ear, his voice hushed but thick with desire. “You’re playing with fire.”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound almost playful, as her hands rested against the table for support. She let herself lean into him more, feeling the heat of his body press against hers, the tension between them now almost unbearable. She knew exactly what she was doing. She always did.

“Maybe I like playing with fire,” she whispered, her voice sultry and laced with teasing promise, daring him to take that last step, to make her move.

Vander’s lips brushed against her ear as he leaned in, his grip on her waist never loosening. “You always know how to tempt me, don’t you?” The words sent a fresh wave of heat crashing over her, and he could feel her body tense as she shifted, pressing back into him just slightly, the subtle gesture not lost on him.

Y/N’s smile grew wider, her eyes still focused on the edge of the table, but her lips parted in a slow, deliberate breath. She shifted her weight slightly, her body pressing back into his with an unmistakable hint of desire. “Maybe I just like seeing how long it takes for you to lose control.”

With that, Vander’s patience finally broke. With a soft, growled chuckle, he let his lips find the sensitive spot on her neck, his teeth grazing just lightly enough to make her shiver but not enough to leave a mark. The action sent a flood of heat through her, making her pulse race even faster. The world seemed to blur, the only thing that existed in that moment being the feeling of his hands on her, the warmth of his breath, and the mounting tension between them that neither was willing to break first.

Y/N tilted her head back against his shoulder, a small, satisfied moan slipping from her lips. "I knew you'd snap," she whispered, her voice breathless but filled with teasing triumph. She didn't care how long it took him; she loved seeing him unravel in her hands.

Vander groaned softly, the sound full of restraint, but also something darker. "You're going to make me lose my mind, Y/N." His fingers dug a little deeper into her waist, and Y/N felt a surge of satisfaction at how tightly he was holding her.

"Then lose it," she murmured, tilting her head to look over her shoulder, catching his gaze. And for a moment, everything in the room disappeared except for the two of them, standing on the edge of desire, waiting for the moment to tip over the edge into something neither of them could resist.

The following day, the bar was alive with the usual bustle—patrons talking, glasses clinking, the air thick with the warmth of conversation and the hum of activity. Y/N had just finished setting up the tables, making sure everything was in its place. As she moved across the room, tidying up and wiping down the surfaces, she found herself stealing a glance at Vander behind the bar. His eyes caught hers for a brief moment, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. The events of last night weren’t far from either of their minds.

It was then that a patron, a middle-aged man with a thick moustache, pulled out the chair at the table where Y/N had been cleaning the night before. He sat down with a sigh, setting down his mug as he eyed the surface. Without much thought, he gave the table a little push, his brow furrowing when it wobbled slightly.

"This table’s crooked," the man grumbled, giving it another nudge, trying to settle it. He leaned back, pushing his drink forward, but the table kept rocking with the smallest of movements.

Vander, who had been wiping down the counter, glanced over at the table. His eyes met Y/N’s, a brief flicker of amusement in them before they darkened slightly with a quiet, lingering smile.

Y/N, caught off guard, felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She turned her gaze away quickly, pretending to focus on wiping down the other tables as her heart fluttered in her chest. Her thoughts were a mess, remembering how she'd spent the previous night bent over that very table, and the way Vander had held her so close, his breath heavy against her skin. The memory made her cheeks burn even hotter.

Vander, his voice steady but full of a subtle, playful edge, addressed the patron. "You’ll have to excuse that. The table’s… got a bit of history with it." His gaze never left Y/N, and though his words were casual, the unspoken meaning between them was clear.

The patron shrugged, oblivious to the tension. "It’s not a big deal, just a bit wobbly."

Y/N, still avoiding eye contact, chuckled nervously as she busied herself with more cleaning. "Yeah, it’s been like that for a while," she mumbled, her voice almost too soft, knowing very well the reason behind it.

Vander’s grin deepened, his hands resting against the counter as he leaned forward slightly, his eyes glimmering with something mischievous. "It has a way of getting… wobbly with certain kinds of pressure," he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear, but loud enough to send a little thrill through her spine.

Y/N glanced up at him, her gaze sharp for just a second, before her face turned even more crimson. She quickly turned away, trying to stifle the nervous laughter that bubbled up in her chest.

The patron, still trying to adjust the table, finally gave up. "Guess I'll just make do," he muttered before turning to look at the drink menu, unaware of the exchange that had just passed between the two of them.

Vander, watching Y/N’s flushed cheeks with an expression that was both teasing and proud, couldn’t help but chuckle softly to himself. "Don’t worry," he said with a grin, keeping his voice light as he wiped a glass, "we’ll get it fixed for you." He gave Y/N another pointed look, but this time, there was no hiding the playful, mischievous spark in his eyes.

Y/N could feel the heat rise from her chest to her face, and she found herself fighting the urge to laugh and hide at the same time. Her eyes stayed focused on the task at hand, though the corner of her mouth betrayed her, twitching into a small, barely contained smile.

"Next time," she muttered under her breath, "I’ll make sure the tables stay upright."

Vander’s low laugh echoed through the space, and for a fleeting moment, Y/N wished the ground would swallow her whole. But even as she felt the weight of embarrassment, she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of what had passed between them—what had been shared the night before, and how it seemed to linger in the air like an unspoken promise.

SILCO

The dim light of Silco’s office cast long shadows across the walls, the air thick with tension as he negotiated with a potential investor. His eyes were sharp, focused on every word that fell from the man’s lips. Yet, despite his usual composure, there was something nagging at him today.

Y/N lounged casually on the plush sofa across from him, her legs crossed and a smirk playing on her lips. She didn’t even look at Silco; instead, her gaze was locked on the investor, a look of intrigue mixed with mischief in her eyes. She had always enjoyed these little games, and today, she was in the mood for something more… entertaining.

The investor, a rather nervous-looking man with too much ambition and not enough restraint, fidgeted with his cufflinks as Y/N’s teasing gaze drifted over him.

"Such an interesting proposal," she said sweetly, her voice dripping with honey. "You must really know how to run a business. I’m sure Silco could learn a lot from you." Her words were playful, but they were enough to throw the investor off-balance. He swallowed, his confidence faltering under her subtle advances.

Silco, of course, noticed the shift. His eyes narrowed just slightly as he met her gaze from across the room. His expression remained stoic, but a flicker of something darker crossed his face. He knew she was enjoying herself—he could tell by the way her lips curled and the way her fingers traced lazily across the armrest.

“I’m sure we can work something out,” the investor said, trying to regain his composure. “The arrangement would benefit everyone.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will,” Y/N replied, her tone suggestive. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, eyes locked on the investor in a way that made him flush slightly. “But, you know, Silco has a... unique way of handling things. I’m curious to see how you plan to keep up with him.”

Silco’s gaze flickered briefly to her before returning to the investor. The subtle jab wasn’t lost on him, and though he wanted to reprimand her, he couldn’t help but feel a hint of something else—amusement, perhaps. The way she teased him, tested his patience, always brought out a side of him he rarely showed. It was as if she knew how to push all his buttons.

The investor cleared his throat, clearly trying to focus. “I— I’m confident I can handle the arrangement, really. I’ve been working on it for months.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly. “Months? Oh, how impressive,” she purred, her voice low and coaxing. “I wonder, though, how long you’ll last under Silco’s... influence. He’s quite demanding, you know.” She leaned back again, her smile teasing but there was an edge to it that hinted at something more.

Silco's jaw tightened, and he couldn’t hold back the slight curl of his lip, his control slipping just a fraction. He pushed the papers on his desk aside, standing slowly, his gaze never leaving Y/N’s.

“I think you’ve had your fun,” he said, his voice low and velvety, the calm before a storm.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

“Come here,” Silco’s command was quiet but firm.

She stood with a smirk, walking over to him with deliberate slowness, every step calculated to send a thrill through both Silco and the nervous investor. She stopped just in front of him, tilting her head slightly to meet his gaze. “What’s the matter, darling? Jealous?”

A dangerous glint flickered in his eyes as he took a step closer, the air between them suddenly charged with heat. “You like to tease, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice a silken threat. “You forget who’s in charge here.”

Y/N’s smile widened, her fingers trailing over his chest in a soft, lingering touch. “Oh, I remember perfectly.”

Before Silco could respond, he noticed the investor shifting uncomfortably in his seat. The moment was hanging in the air, thick with unspoken tension.

“I believe we’ve come to an understanding,” Silco said coldly, his eyes never leaving Y/N.

The investor stood abruptly, his voice shaky as he nodded quickly. “Yes, yes, of course. I’ll... I’ll leave you two to it.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, the silence settled. Y/N’s teasing smile remained, but there was something more dangerous in the air now, something that made the blood in Silco’s veins run hotter.

He reached out, pulling her in close, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke in a low growl, “You’ve pushed me far enough tonight, Y/N. Now it’s my turn.”

A week had passed, and Silco was seated at his desk once again, his sharp eyes scanning the papers in front of him. His mind was sharp, focused as always—driven by the unyielding need for control. Yet, today, there was a different kind of tension in the air, a subtle hum of anticipation that he couldn’t quite shake. It was the kind of feeling that made him glance at the door every now and then, a feeling that told him something was about to shift.

The door to his office creaked open, and the same investor from last week entered, stepping into the room with a careful, measured stride. His posture was better this time, less nervous, though the flicker of discomfort never fully left his eyes. He wasn’t as jittery as before, but there was still an undeniable wariness about him, especially when he found his gaze falling to Silco’s. But it wasn’t Silco’s imposing presence that caught the investor’s attention immediately.

As he made his way toward the desk, he couldn’t help but notice the condition of the polished wood. Silco had always been meticulous about his office. Every corner was aligned with perfection, every surface spotless, as if it had been carefully curated to display a persona of unyielding order. But now—there were deep, jagged scratches gouged into the surface of the desk, the kind that hinted at a struggle, at something—or someone—being dragged across it with unexpected force.

The investor’s eyes darted between the scratches and Silco, uncertainty settling in his gut. He froze for just a beat, his brow furrowing, trying to make sense of what had happened here. These marks were new, and they certainly weren’t from paperwork or the usual wear of an office. They looked far too violent, too... intimate.

In the corner of the room, Y/N was lounging on the plush couch, her eyes half-lidded, lips curled into a mischievous smile as she watched the investor with a knowing gaze. She had always been a tease, and this was no exception. There was a certain satisfaction in watching the man try to figure out what had caused the damage, especially since she was the reason those marks were there. She had certainly made her presence known on that desk not long ago—her teasing and playful nature had driven Silco to the edge, and he’d taken her right there, in the heat of the moment, with all the passion he could muster.

The investor, still unsure whether to comment, hesitated a moment longer. His gaze shifted back to Silco, waiting for some acknowledgment of the marks, but Silco said nothing. The silence stretched between them, palpable and thick.

Silco, ever the master of control, noticed the man’s hesitation. He allowed his lips to curl into the smallest of smiles, an expression that could be mistaken for amusement—or something darker. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly on the desk, but he made no mention of the marks.

“Is something troubling you?” Silco asked, his voice smooth and lethal, like velvet covering steel. His gaze was unwavering, eyes glinting with a cold, knowing amusement.

The investor swallowed hard, the discomfort now fully visible in his posture. He stammered as he tried to regain his composure. “No, no, not at all, Mr. Silco. Just… admiring the craftsmanship of your desk. It’s… unique.”

Silco’s smile deepened, a flash of something darker in his eyes. “It has its history,” he said simply, his voice carrying an edge that was just a bit too cold, a bit too knowing for comfort. The words hung in the air, lingering with a weight that the investor could not ignore.

The man nodded quickly, but the unease was still there, gnawing at him. What history? What could have possibly caused those scratches? He glanced at Y/N, half expecting her to offer some kind of explanation, but her gaze remained fixed on him, her lips curling further into a teasing smile, as if she found the whole situation immensely amusing.

Y/N was enjoying this far too much. The investor’s nervousness, the tension in the air—it was all so easy to manipulate. Her fingers absentmindedly trailed across the armrest of the couch, the same fingers that had just left those marks on the desk. The memory of that night, of how Silco had pulled her closer and made her forget everything but the raw, urgent need between them, still lingered in the back of her mind. The way he’d taken control, how she’d given in to him fully. It had been... exhilarating. And now, the aftermath of that passion was still written all over his desk.

The investor, now visibly flustered, shifted uncomfortably on his feet, clearly wanting to move on. He cleared his throat, trying to get back to the business at hand. “Right, of course, Mr. Silco. The arrangement… as I mentioned last time, we’ve made great strides on my end. I’ve had my people review the proposal, and we’re ready to—”

Silco cut him off, his voice sharper now, a hint of irritation seeping in. “Good. Let’s get to the point.”

There was a brief moment of silence as the investor hesitated, still clearly unsettled by the marks on the desk. His gaze kept flickering toward them as he tried to focus on the task at hand, but the thought of what—who—had caused those scratches wouldn’t leave his mind. He didn’t dare ask, though, because something told him that Silco’s answer would be anything but comforting.

Instead, he pressed on with the business, his voice more steady as he outlined the progress made on the deal. Silco, however, wasn’t truly listening. His thoughts were elsewhere—his gaze drifting back to Y/N, who was still lounging on the couch, her eyes gleaming with something unspoken.

He hadn’t forgotten that night. He never did. And while the investor continued to ramble, Silco allowed his mind to wander back to the sharp intensity of Y/N’s teasing, her hands on him, leaving her own mark on him just as he had left his on her. There was a certain satisfaction in knowing that only he and Y/N truly understood the history of that desk.

After all, not every mark could be explained by business.

SEVIKA

The soft hum of the apartment was broken only by the rhythmic clink of Sevika’s boots against the floor as she relaxed on the worn-out sofa, sipping on a drink. Her fingers lightly traced the rim of her glass, eyes half-lidded as she watched Y/N move about the room.

Y/N, ever the tease, stood in front of the large window, stretching slowly and purposefully. They arched their back, letting their spine curve in an exaggerated stretch, all the while glancing over their shoulder toward Sevika with a playful smirk. Their legs stretched wide, and their hands reached toward the ceiling, fingers splayed as they subtly made their way down their body, just enough to give Sevika a glimpse of their toned figure.

Sevika’s eyes narrowed, the sharp glint in them betraying the calm she tried to project. She took a long sip, though the way her gaze lingered on Y/N's movements made it clear she was paying more attention than she'd let on.

"You're really doing this right now?" Sevika's voice was low, but there was a trace of amusement in it.

Y/N hummed, twisting their body in a way that made their hips sway. "What, can't a person stretch in peace?" They dropped to the floor with a graceful roll, moving fluidly into a split that made Sevika’s jaw tighten. Y/N's hands rested on the floor in front of them, but their eyes locked with Sevika's as they grinned. "You don’t mind, do you? It's just a stretch... Unless you're too distracted."

Sevika's free hand curled into a fist, and she fought to keep her posture relaxed. "You know damn well what you're doing."

Y/N pushed themselves back up to stand, but as they did, they took their time, letting their body drag out the movement just to watch Sevika’s response. "Oh, I’m not doing anything. You’re just imagining things," they teased, though the glint in their eye said otherwise.

Sevika stood up, her long limbs moving with an intimidating fluidity as she approached. Her dark eyes locked onto Y/N’s, her voice a low growl. "Don’t make me come over there and remind you who’s in charge, sweetheart."

Y/N chuckled, stepping closer, running their fingers along Sevika's chest. "I think you like it when I push your buttons," they murmured, lips brushing against her ear as they leaned in close. "Tell me, Sevika... are you in the mood for more than just teasing?"

Sevika smirked, catching Y/N by the wrist before they could retreat. "Careful," she warned in a hushed tone, "or you might get more than you bargained for."

Y/N’s grin widened, knowing full well that Sevika always played to win. "I’m ready for whatever you’ve got."

In an instant, Sevika's smirk turned into a sly grin as she grabbed Y/N’s waist with one arm, lifting them easily off their feet. Y/N barely had time to react as they were swung over Sevika’s shoulder, their breath catching in surprise. They laughed, the playful sound ringing out as they playfully smacked Sevika's back.

"Hey! I was just stretching, no need to get so dramatic!" Y/N teased, trying to wiggle free, but Sevika’s hold was firm, her hand pressing gently but firmly against their back as she made her way toward the bedroom.

Sevika’s voice was low, almost a growl, as she spoke. "You’ve been pushing my patience, sweetheart. Now, you're going to get the kind of attention that doesn’t come with any more teasing."

Y/N's heart raced as they felt the warmth of Sevika’s hand against their body, the protective, possessive grip that sent a thrill through them. They leaned their head back over Sevika’s shoulder, eyes glinting with challenge. "You’re acting like I’m the one who’s been bad," they muttered, but there was no mistaking the excitement that danced in their tone.

Sevika’s laugh was dark and rich, and she gave Y/N a playful shake as they neared the bedroom door. "You’re always bad, Y/N. You just don't know when to stop."

The morning light filtered softly through the blinds, casting a gentle glow over the apartment. Y/N was stretched out on the couch, her legs propped up, a soft moan escaping her lips as she shifted slightly. The muscles in her legs ached from the intense workout they had both shared the night before, and though it wasn’t the first time, the memory still left her with a deep, pleasurable soreness.

Sevika sat beside her, her strong hands working expertly into Y/N’s calves, massaging out the tension. Her touch was firm but gentle, applying just enough pressure to ease the knots in Y/N’s muscles without making her squirm too much. Every now and then, Y/N would let out a soft whimper or groan, her body melting into the couch.

"You know, this wouldn’t be happening if you didn't have to turn every simple stretch into a show," Sevika said, her voice low and playful as her fingers kneaded into Y/N’s sore muscles.

Y/N shifted again, her back arching slightly as another soft moan escaped her lips. "I need to stretch more," she muttered, though the words were more of a half-complaint than anything else. "Clearly, I haven’t been taking care of myself enough."

Sevika smirked, her fingers digging deeper into Y/N's muscles. "You’re going to stretch yourself into trouble if you keep this up," she teased, leaning closer, her breath brushing against Y/N’s ear. "But I’m happy to help... I know exactly where to apply pressure."

Y/N let out a laugh, albeit a bit breathless. "I think that’s the understatement of the year," she said, her voice still laced with a mix of teasing and quiet satisfaction. "You’re good at this. A little too good."

Sevika’s fingers paused for a moment as she glanced up, her gaze a mixture of amusement and affection. "You’re not the only one who knows how to get a reaction," she said, her hand sliding up to Y/N’s thighs, the warmth of her touch spreading through her body.

Y/N let out a contented sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxed into the couch. "Maybe I need to get more of these massages," she murmured, voice thick with a mix of humor and satisfaction. "You might be onto something, Sev."

Sevika chuckled, her hands continuing to work their magic. "Oh, I’m sure you’ll be begging for more soon enough," she said, a teasing edge in her voice. "But let’s make sure you actually stretch next time, hm?"

Y/N shifted again, her legs twitching slightly at the relief Sevika’s touch provided. She smirked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think I’ll just stretch for you anytime you ask, babe," she murmured, a sly grin pulling at the corner of her mouth. "You always know how to make it worth it."

Sevika raised an eyebrow as she glanced down at her. "Don’t tempt me," she warned, but there was a hint of something more dangerous in her tone, a playful, wicked edge that sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine.

#Arcane #arcane fandom #arcane fluff #reader insert #jayce x reader #jayce x you #jayce talis x reader #jayce x y/n #viktor x y/n #viktor x reader #jayce x reader x viktor #viktor x you #vander x reader #silco x reader #jayvik x reader #sevika x reader #Arcane Spice #Spice

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lurochar · 11 months ago

Text

First Rut, With You

A short drabble based on the Rut Stuff headcanons

Warnings: None

-----------------------------------------

This wouldn’t do.

You hummed cheerfully, completely unaware of the darkening eyes watching you from the shadows.

Oh, he couldn’t have this.

He could feel his eyes begin to blacken and the itch in his antlers somehow felt even worse than it did at the peak of his previous ruts.

You could, and should, be held responsible for bringing about such an irritating change in him. He never had to deal with these absurd urges before.

Rutting season had been nothing more than just a minor inconvenience, a month where he felt a little less patience and more aggression than he usually would – an easy fix, a little extra slaughter always soothed his ruffled fur.

Well, until you showed up in his (after)life and somehow managed to make yourself quite charming to someone like himself.

He had never imagined finding a partner would change the physical aspect of his rut month so much, it even seemed to awaken some sort of deep instinctual part of him that Alastor didn’t realize he possessed.

You needed to make it up to him for making him feel this way.

~00~

“My little Doe~”

You almost screeched, hearing the static and the filtered voice only after you felt a touch on your hand come from below and you stumbled, still not used to Alastor’s mastery of shadows that he liked to regularly abuse to scare the living shit out of you.

“Hmm, how are you this hellish afternoon?” Alastor asked in his usual chipper tone, eyes quickly drawn to what was in your hand and his grin tensed and twitched on one side. “What is that monstrosity?”

He was well aware demons were stopping and staring, whispering to each other, probably in shock that the Radio Demon was having a casual and cordial conversation with a Sinner who wasn’t a fellow Overlord.

Let them talk for a few minutes – he’ll be taking their worthless eyeballs for daring to gawk at you in a few moments anyways.

You patted your chest a few times, feeling a little heavy as you barely managed to swallow down your mouthful before you choked on it. “I’m still not used to that. How am I still not used to that?” You said under your breath and Alastor’s smile twitched once more, his mind jumbled and completely out of control.

His patience wasn’t exactly all there, (maybe you didn’t know that), you shouldn’t ignore him like that, your attention should be on him, so answer his question, whywereyoueatingthat, HECOULDPROVIDEYOUWITHBETTER–

“What is that?” Alastor repeated with gritted fangs, not liking that he did have to repeat himself to begin with and you snapped out of your shadow-induced shock, glancing at the thing-that-shouldn’t-even-be-called-food in your hand.

“It’s just a dough–” You started, reeling back in surprise when Alastor knocked your treat out of your hand like a naughty cat knocking things off a table and you’re just baffled at the sheer child-like pettiness of it, “–nut…” You finish, simply staring at your fallen doughnut on the ground.

Huh.

“I admit I have no fondness for sweets,” Alastor doesn’t like you looking at that damn doughnut with those pretty doe eyes of yours, especially with that disappointment, “but if you are craving a sweet treat, I am capable of making beignets at the very least.”

It’s the only dessert recipe of his mother’s that he can replicate, he was never one for baking.

“Alastor,” you quickly forget about the doughnut when you look back at Alastor, “are you… feeling okay?” You asked in concern, quickly noting he was not his normal self.

His antlers were a little larger than normal, he looked all around irritated, his eyes were flickering between black and red, and his pupils were spinning as if they couldn’t settle between their normal shape or the radio dials he was known for.

“No, that’s not enough,” Alastor didn’t answer your question, “beyond sweets, for every meal, you need to come to me, my Doe. I’ll skin anyone alive who think they can feed– care for you better than I can.”

“I…” Something was off with Alastor, but you could directly ask him when you weren’t in public and–was that screaming?

Ah.

Alastor’s shadow and other little minions were making mincemeat out of the passersby and you guessed they must have riled Alastor up by staring just a little too long. Well, if you wanted to be in the Radio Demon’s life, it was just a fact you had to get used to.

You jumped when you felt something large being draped over you and you felt warm and fuzzy when you could smell Alastor’s scent enveloping you. “What are you doing?” You flushed, seeing that Alastor had taken off his overcoat and was currently wrapping you up in it, looking a little less irritated at the sight of you in it.

“I can still smell that doughnut and its maker on you.” Alastor snarled at the very thought before reaching down to intertwine his fingers within yours and he almost barked out a laugh at how utterly red your face was getting at the gesture. How adorable, you matched his coat.

“W-what are you doing!?” You were completely confused at this point because Alastor never touched you affectionately out in public – both for his image and for your safety. This was odd, bizarre, but you didn’t hate it, you were just flustered at the abruptness of this strange new thing.

“Hmm, I suppose I should have shared something about myself with you earlier,” Alastor tightened his hand around yours, strolling along with you slowly so you could keep up with your shorter frame, “When we are away from any prying eyes and ears, I will tell you what this is. But first, my little Doe, let us enjoy a nice afternoon walk, shall we?”

“O-okay.” You simply nodded, spotting a streaking black shape speeding towards you and Alastor and Alastor’s shadow emerged from the ground. You looked curiously at it when it held out its hands to Alastor in an eager manner, but slowly stepped back once you got a glimpse of what it actually was holding.

“Good job.” Alastor nodded with approval and the shadow seemed to look at you restlessly before Alastor held out to you what he ordered his shadow to retrieve – those worthless Sinners’ eyeballs. “A gift for you, dearest. And many in your favourite colour!”

Ah… ha.

“Thank you, Alastor.”

Yep, better get used to it.

#alastor x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel

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xomakara · 6 months ago

Text

Fated to Meet

SUMMARY | When the power goes out of the cabin you're sharing with a stranger named Haechan, you wonder if it's luck or fate that brought you two together after a night of intimacy. PAIRINGS | Haechan x Reader RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked GENRE | smut, strangers to lovers, non-idol au, snowstorm CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, kissing, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), slight dirty talk, fingering, oral sex (male giving/female receiving), vaginal penetration, creampie, multiple orgasms LENGTH | 3,227 words TAGLIST | – NETWORKS | @k-vanity @ksmutsociety AUTHOR’S NOTE | hi all~ This is written for kvanity’s winter event, “The Naughty or Nice List”, and the prompts/dialogue I used were:

Stuck sharing a cabin with a stranger that is double booked

“Ever been kissed under the mistletoe?”

“Maybe you can warm me up.”

Happy reading folks!

NCT Main Masterlist

“There’s no way I’m giving up the bed,” you snap, arms crossed over your chest as you stare down Haechan. He’s taller than you by a few inches, his shoulders filling out the frame of the cabin doorway. His dark eyes narrow, and you can see the flicker of annoyance in them, but there’s something else too—a glint of amusement that makes your stomach tighten.

“You think because you got here first, it’s yours?” he shoots back, his voice low and smooth with just a hint of a challenge. “That’s not how this works.”

The cabin is small, cozy, and decidedly not big enough for two people who didn’t plan on sharing it. The fireplace crackles softly in the corner, casting warm light over the wooden walls and the single queen-sized bed that’s become the center of your argument. Outside, the snow falls heavily, blanketing the world in white and trapping you both here for the night.

“I booked this place weeks ago,” you say, stepping closer to him, refusing to back down. “You’re the one who showed up uninvited.”

Haechan raises an eyebrow, leaning casually against the doorframe like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Funny,” he says, “because my confirmation email says otherwise.”

He pulls out his phone, scrolling through it before holding it up for you to see. Sure enough, there’s the booking confirmation for the same dates.

You groan, running a hand through your hair. Of course. Of course this would happen to you. You were supposed to have a peaceful weekend alone in the mountains, away from the chaos of the city. But instead, you’re stuck here arguing with a stranger over a bed.

“Fine,” you mutter, turning away from him and pacing the small space. “We’ll figure something out. Maybe… maybe we can take turns? Or—”

“Or,” Haechan interrupts, his voice cutting through your frustration. It’s softer now, almost teasing. “We could just share.”

You stop in your tracks, spinning around to face him. “What?”

He shrugs, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “It’s a big bed. Plenty of room for two.”

Your cheeks flush, and you quickly look away, pretending to focus on the fire. “That’s… that’s not happening.”

“Why not?” he presses, taking a step closer. You can feel the heat radiating off him, even from a few feet away. He smells faintly of cedar and something spicy, like cinnamon or clove. It’s distracting, and you hate how much it affects you.

“Because I don’t know you,” you say, your voice firmer than you feel. “And I’m not sharing a bed with some random guy who just barged into my cabin.”

“Our cabin,” he corrects, grinning now. “And I’m not ‘some random guy.’ I’m Haechan.”

“And I’m Y/N,” you mutter sarcastically. “Now we’re practically best friends.”

He laughs, a rich sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “You’re feisty. I like that.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skips at his words. “Can we just figure this out? I’m tired, and I don’t want to spend all night arguing with you.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he tilts his head, studying you with that same amused expression. Then, his gaze shifts upward, and his smirk grows wider.

“Well, well,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, almost playful tone. “Look where we’re standing.”

You follow his gaze, and your stomach does a flip when you see it: a sprig of mistletoe hanging right above your heads. Your breath catches, and for a second, you forget how to speak. Haechan steps closer, closing the distance between you until you can feel the warmth of his body against yours. His eyes lock onto yours, and you can see the mischief dancing in them.

“Ever been kissed under the mistletoe?” he asks, his voice so soft it’s almost a whisper.

Your heart races, and you swallow hard, trying to find your voice.

“N-no,” you manage to stammer, though you’re not sure why you’re answering him. He hums, the sound sending a ripple of heat through you.

“Well,” he says, leaning in just a little closer, “there’s a first time for everything.”

Your mind screams at you to pull away, to put some distance between you and this dangerously charming man. But your body betrays you, rooted to the spot as his scent washes over you, his proximity making every nerve in your body tingle.

His hand reaches up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and the gentle touch sends sparks racing down your spine.

“You’re blushing,” he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement.

“I’m not,” you protest weakly, even as you feel your cheeks burn hotter.

He chuckles, the sound low and intimate. “Liar.”

Before you can retort, his other hand settles on your waist, pulling you gently toward him. Your breath hitches, and your hands instinctively land on his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath his sweater. He’s solid, real, and so close you can almost taste him.

“Relax,” he whispers, his lips hovering just inches from yours. “It’s just a kiss.”

You should say no. You should push him away and demand he keep his distance. But something about the way he’s looking at you, the way his fingers trace tiny circles on your hip, makes it impossible to resist.

And then, he closes the gap.

His lips meet yours in a soft, tentative kiss that steals the breath from your lungs. At first, it’s gentle, almost chaste, but as the seconds stretch on, the tension between you builds. His hand moves from your waist to cradle the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as his tongue brushes against your bottom lip, asking, pleading for more.

Your body responds before your brain can catch up, your hands sliding up to his shoulders as you lean into him, parting your lips to let him in.

The moment his tongue slips past your lips, a fire ignites in your core, spreading heat through your veins. You can taste him now—spearmint and something undeniably masculine—and it drives you wild. A small moan escapes you, muffled by his mouth, and he groans in response, his grip tightening on you.

You’re vaguely aware of the way he backs you up, guiding you until the edge of the bed hits the back of your thighs. He breaks the kiss just long enough to look at you, his chest rising and falling as he searches your face for any sign of hesitation.

When he finds none, he kisses you again, harder this time, more urgent. Your knees buckle, and you collapse onto the bed, dragging him down with you. He braces himself above you, his weight pressing you into the mattress in the most delicious way. One of his legs slots between yours, and you grind against him instinctively, craving the friction.

His lips leave yours to trail down your jaw, nipping lightly at your skin before moving to your neck. You arch into him, gasping as he sucks at the sensitive spot just below your ear. His hand slides under your shirt, his palm hot against your stomach as it travels upward, teasing the curve of your breast.

“H-Haechan,” you breathe, your voice shaky and barely recognizable.

He pauses, lifting his head to look at you. His eyes are dark, hungry, and completely focused on you.

“Tell me to stop,” he says, his voice rough. “And I will.”

But you don’t. Instead, you slide your hands down his back, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between you. He growls softly, capturing your lips once more as his fingers tug at the hem of your shirt, stripping it away. The cool air hits your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his mouth as he trails kisses down your collarbone...

“Wait—” you gasp, tugging slightly at his hair. He stops immediately, pulling back to look at you, his breathing heavy. “What about… the bed?”

He chuckles darkly, his lips curving into a wicked grin. “Don’t worry,” he murmurs, his hand trailing down your side. “We’re gonna make good use of it.”

The room is a blur of heat and friction, his body pressing into yours. His hands are everywhere—skimming your waist, gripping your hips, tangling in your hair. You can’t think straight, not with the way he’s kissing you, not with the way his touch sends shivers racing down your spine.

But just as his fingers hook into the waistband of your jeans, the room plunges into darkness. The sudden absence of light startles you both, and Haechan pulls back slightly, his breath warm against your lips.

“What the—” His voice cuts off as you hear him fumble for something on the nightstand. A moment later, the soft glow of his phone screen illuminates the room, casting shadows across his face. “Power’s out,” he mutters, squinting at the screen. “Must be the storm.”

You hadn’t even noticed the storm outside. Now that it’s dark, though, the sound of heavy snow pounding against the windows fills the silence, rhythmic and relentless. The wind howls, rattling the panes, and you feel a chill creep into the air despite the warmth still lingering between you.

Haechan tosses his phone onto the bed, the dim light barely enough to see each other. He turns back to you, his expression unreadable in the shadows. For a moment, neither of you speaks. The tension is palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. And then, slowly, he reaches out, his hand brushing against your arm.

“Cold?” he asks, his voice low.

“Maybe you can warm me up,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of anticipation. The darkness seemed to amplify every sound—the hitch in Haechan’s breath, the rustle of fabric as he shifted closer.

His hand stilled on your arm for a moment before sliding up to cup your cheek. His palm was warm against your skin, and you leaned into his touch instinctively.

“Is that an invitation?” he murmured, his tone teasing but laced with something deeper, something raw.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you reached for him, your fingers curling into the front of his shirt, pulling him closer until there was no space left between you. His lips found yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if savoring the moment. The kiss deepened, and you felt the heat building between you, chasing away the chill that had crept into the room.

Haechan’s hands moved down to your waist, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. His touch was electric, sending sparks skittering across your skin. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside before his mouth returned to yours, hungry and insistent. His hands explored every inch of you, leaving trails of fire in their wake. You gasped as his lips trailed down your neck, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin.

“Haechan,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

He paused, lifting his head to meet your gaze. In the faint light from his phone, you could see the intensity in his eyes, the way they burned with desire. “Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice rough.

You didn’t hesitate. “You. I want you.”

A slow smile spread across his face, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Then you’ve got me.”

Time stood still, a haze of pleasure washing over you. Nothing existed outside of the moment; your only focus was on the delicious sensation of him, pressed against you, his mouth hungrily seeking yours. The storm still raged outside, but there was no trace of cold—not when you were wrapped in Haechan's arms, every nerve in your body sparking with electricity.

Your back arched as he buried his head and fingers between your legs, teasing your entrance. A low moan slipped past your lips as he sucked, sending jolts of pleasure through your core. You gripped the sheets tightly, desperate for more.

The storm rumbled outside, but all you could hear was his voice—soft groans and husky whispers that were slowly driving you crazy. Your mind was foggy, and your senses overloaded. All you could focus on were the sensations—his lips, his touch, his body flush against yours.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as his tongue drove deeper, coaxing a shaky gasp from your mouth. Heat pooled low in your belly, a silent plea for more, and he was only too happy to comply. His pace quickened, drawing ragged moans from your lips. You were unraveling—body, mind, soul—lost in a haze of pure ecstasy.

There was no time to catch your breath; you could already feel the wave of pleasure building within you, threatening to break. But you held on, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.

He watched you come undone, watched the way you unraveled under his touch, and knew there was no going back after this—after hearing the way his name sounded when it tumbled off your lips. It was music to his ears, the way this beautiful stranger moaned and writhed in his embrace, all because of him. Because he knew exactly which spot to hit, because he could feel how close you were, how you pulsed against his fingers as he pushed deeper, as his thumb rubbed your clit until you were left gasping for air.

He'd been with plenty of girls before, but he'd never been with one as beautiful as you, all flushed cheeks and swollen lips, your hair tousled and sticking to your sweaty skin, your body trembling in his arms.

No, there was something different about you, and he didn't care how cliche it sounded—it felt like fate when two strangers suddenly find themselves sharing a cramped vacation cabin in the snow-covered mountains.

And he was going to savor this, to make you a mess, a delicious, filthy mess, and then he'd go for more, because one kiss under the mistletoe wasn't nearly enough.

One touch wasn't nearly enough.

Once your orgasms had ebbed away and the last aftershocks faded into the quiet, Haechan gave you a sinful smirk, licking the taste of your sweetness from his fingers before covering your naked body with his. His lips brushed over yours, his teeth nibbling your lower lip in a sweet kiss.

"Round two?" he purred, grinding against you, letting you feel the weight of his cock as it twitched between your thighs. "Or is this over after the first round?"

You glanced at your surroundings, at the cramped, cozy cabin that somehow felt intimate instead of oppressive and small, despite its size.

"Fuck no," you mumbled, tangling your fingers in his hair, tugging slightly on the silken strands. "Mistletoe kisses are forever, mister."

He grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Round two was spent with your legs wrapped around Haechan's waist, his strong arms braced on either side of your head. Your fingers raked down his back as you panted, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Harder," you urged him, your voice shaky, pleading. "Fuck me harder, Haechan."

That was all the encouragement he needed. He drove deeper, losing himself in the sensation of your body pressed against his. There were no thoughts of past relationships, of the obligations that awaited you both back home; right now, the world was shrinking to the two of you and this perfect little bubble.

He leaned in and kissed you, hard and passionate, his lips demanding, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth. He wanted, no, needed, all of you. And if you were going to spend the night fucking your brains out, you sure as hell were going to go home with sore hips and an aching voice, knowing no one else will ever take his place.

With your skin slick with sweat and the room thick with the scent of sex, his mouth never leaving yours for a second, it felt as if the two of you were making up for the years you'd both spent lonely in the cold. Your heart felt heavy with emotion, as if you'd fallen in love overnight, all from sharing the same bed and letting yourself get fucked senseless by the most gorgeous man you'd laid your eyes on.

But it would soon be over—too soon, far too soon, and in a few short hours, the morning sun would rise, and you would both be packing your things, the secret affair of two strangers put away under lock and key.

Your moans mixed with the sound of skin slapping against skin, his thrusts erratic, almost urgent as you came, and you came, and you came. Your toes curled, his cock rubbing that sweet spot, bringing you to the edge again, again, until you were completely spent, and your lips were cracked and swollen from biting them and from his tongue.

"H-Haechan," you managed to breathe, trying to remember how to speak. You were like jelly, barely able to form a sentence, the aftermath of one of the most intense orgasms you'd ever experienced turning your limbs to jelly. "Oh, fuck!"

You tried to catch your breath, your hands limp as his broad chest rose and fell with the force of his own breathing. Slowly, he pulled out, and a flood of his warmth spilled onto your thighs, your wetness still glistening on his cock.

"Fuck," his forehead touched yours, and his lips twitched into a smile. "Who knew a mistletoe kiss would get you this fucking good?"

You couldn't help but grin, even as the bittersweet ache of loneliness in your chest bloomed. You didn't know him well—hell, you didn't even know his last name. But the way his eyes twinkled as he looked down at you made you want to fall asleep in his arms and wake up to his charming grin and beautiful bed head every damn morning.

"Can I ask you something?" he murmured after a moment.

"Sure," you replied.

His fingers brushed against your cheek, and his smile was suddenly soft, a tiny smile so beautiful it made you hold your breath. "Do you believe in fate?"

"Fate?" you asked.

“Mmm,” Haechan hummed. “Like, when two people are destined to meet?”

"Maybe," you replied with a soft, breathless laugh.

Haechan cupped your cheek, pressing his lips to yours again. He kissed you long and slow, savoring the lingering taste of you, and whispered, "Then what if we make fate work in our favor?"

You pulled away just slightly, searching his face. There was a strange fluttering in your heart, as if all your dreams were within your reach. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and the gentle way he caressed you almost made you lose your damn mind. "Spend the New Year with me. Let's see if fate really brought us together or if we were just lucky. What do you say, stranger?"

You chuckled, cupping the back of his neck, fingers sliding into the silken strands of his hair. "I'd say, stranger... this was definitely not a one-night stand, and I'd very much like to see where fate leads us."

#kvanity #knaughtyornice #ksmutsociety #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct scenarios #nct stories #nct fanfics #nct imagines #nct smut #lee Haechan #haechan #nct haechan #haechan smut #haechan x reader #lee donghyuck

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paradiseismine · 1 year ago

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Short skirt - Trevor Spengler x reader

Pairing: Trevor Spengler (Ghostbusters Afterlife/Frozen Empire) x f!reader

Warnings: smut; slight spanking; cum fetish I guess (?); boyfriend Trevor.

Love note from Nina: this is inspired by my +18 Trevor Spengler Headcanons post, sort of an extension to that.

Trevor has always had a thing for skirts and dresses - he likes girls to be girly, that’s all. He loves frilly lingerie and delicate sleepwear, specially when he gets to take them off your body (or at least slide them to the side a little).

You had bought the shortest skirt you could find on the internet - think Sabrina Carpenter on her concerts, minus the leotard underneath. Skirts that short weren’t even your style, you probably wouldn’t feel comfortable wearing them out on the street. But inside the house, with the sole purpose of seducing your boyfriend… That was a whole different story.

Trev was supposed to come over to your house in the afternoon, so you could spend some time together and maybe watch a movie (or leave some movie as background noise while you two made out). At 3 p.m., your doorbell rang.

- Come in, it’s open - you yelled from the couch.

Trevor opened the door, closing it gently behind him after entering your living room.

- You shouldn’t do that, you know? What if it was some pervert on your doorstep? - he approached you, lightly kissing your lips to greet you as you stood up to do so.

- I knew it was my pervert - you chuckled, hugging him tightly. You could smell cologne from his neck. He knew you loved it, so he’d always wear it when you were together.

As you two let go of the hug, suddenly, Trev’s eyebrows raised in a weird way. He took your hand and made you spin around so he could take a better look. You laughed softly in response.

- What’s this, Trev?

- May i repeat your question, love? What’s with that skirt?

- Don’t you like it? - you put your hands on your hips, jokingly posing for him. - I just got it, it came in through the mail this morning.

- It’s beautiful, princess - he nodded, sincerely. - Looks great on you. It’s just that I’ve never seen you wear anything like that, I mean, it barely covers your ass - he chuckled, giving your butt a light smack. - Where are you gonna wear that?

- Uhm, at home… - you answered, as if it was obvious, then put your arms around his neck. - To you…

- Y/n… Did you buy that skirt just to tease me? - he tried to contain himself, but couldn’t help biting his lip at the sight of your upper thighs.

- Hm… What if I did?

- You can’t be serious… - he had already put his arms around your hips. Trevor’s hands slowly creeped up under your skirt, groping your ass in a possessive manner. He felt your smooth skin, but couldn’t find your panties until he reached closer to your pussy. You were wearing the smallest thong you owned: his favorite. - Babe, are you…

- I’m what, love?

- Are you wearing those tiny panties underneath that skirt? The ones that I like?

- I guess you’ll have to see for yourself… - you smiled and Trevor grabbed your chin.

- You’re being so naughty today, what should I do to you?

- Spank me, Trev - you asked, your lips pouting and your eyes pleading while looking up at him. You loved how tall he was.

Trev bit his lip. You could see it in his eyes (and in his pants) how much he desired you at that moment. He let go of your chin, sat down on the couch and tapped his own thigh gently.

- Get on my lap - he ordered, his voice lower than usual. You had never seen him like this. The skirt really awakened something in him.

You got on his lap as fast as you could, sort of lying on your stomach, so your ass was up and in the perfect spot for him to spank you.

Trevor gripped your hips and your butt again, harshly; then lifted up your skirt and slowly lowered your panties down to your thighs, just to get them out of the way. As he removed them, he could see a clear string of your arousal stretching until it stuck to the frail fabric of those minuscule panties.

- Oh, you’re wet already? - Trev asked, his right hand slamming against your ass. And then again and again. Those slaps would sting a little, but Trev would never hurt you. He knew how to use his force to please you without crossing the line.

You moaned, defenseless, trying to hide the grin on your face.

- Such a little whore - he bit his lip in an even more devilish way. He’d never talked dirty, that was news to you. Another slap hit your ass. - Putting on the sluttiest skirt I’ve ever seen and bending over me to give me a better view of this needy pussy.

He spanked you again, a bit harder this time. You couldn’t help but softly cry out his name and moan. He spread your legs just a bit, his index finger now reaching in between them to find your dripping pussy. He lightly touched your sweet entrance, but didn’t dip his finger in you. You shivered under his touch, wanting more than its feather light intensity.

- Do you think I should still make you cum, even after being so naughty?

- Yes - you moaned. - Please, baby… I know how much you love skirts and dresses, so I bought this one to wear just for you. So you can fuck me in it…

You shook your hips, trying to fuck yourself into Trevor’s long finger.

- One leg to each side of me - he ordered, his voice raspy with desire.

You quickly repositioned yourself, obeying him. He pulled you closer by your waist and kissed your lips hungrily, grabbing chunks of your hair, digging his short nails into your neck. You’d moan at his touch, whimpering and straddling his throbbing cock.

Trev put both his hands to your thighs, squishing them with desire. He gestured for you to raise your hips just a bit, then inserted two of his fingers into your dripping cunt. You moaned in his mouth, surprised and lustful.

- So hot and slutty with that tiny skirt, just for me - Trevor whispered into your ear, teeth nibbling on your lobes. His now slick fingers found their way to your clit, massaging it in slow, agonizingly delicate circles. He leaned in to kiss you once again.

Your eyes were rolling back in pleasure, you could barely manage to kiss him back as you moaned his name over and over, your arms around his neck for stability. You came undone shortly after, covering his fingers in your arousal, your legs shaking in uncontrollable spasms, higher moans escaping your parted lips. Trevor grabbed your face and kissed you one more time, biting your lips softly.

- On your back - he ordered, his eyes darkened as you opened your own to look at him.

You did as you were told, now sitting on the couch with your legs spread out. Trev kneeled in front of you, pulling you to the very edge of the couch. He pulled your panties all the way off, grabbing your thighs hungrily in each hand. Your skirt was still on, but all bunched up around your hips.

Without any further notice, Trevor dipped his head in between your legs and tasted you with his tongue. Your arousal, abundant, coated his lips almost immediately. He licked around your entrance, dipping his tongue in your hole for a second, just to feel you clench around him. You let out a soft whimper, and could hear him chuckle. As his mouth finally closed around your clit, your legs trembled in pure lust.

Even though the position would imply otherwise, Trev always felt very dominant eating your pussy on his knees. With each flick of his tongue and each soft moan you’d let out, the more his erection grew in his sweatpants. Your eyes were rolling, your legs were shaking, you were feeling that orgasm reach you slowly and deliciously, until your body finally shook in its climax pleasure. Your ears went deaf and your eyes saw stars - until they met Trevor’s hungry gaze.

He dipped his fingers in your pussy and curled them in.

- So wet and warm - he whispered, delighted. - It will be such a delight to cum inside your pussy today, love.

You grabbed some of his hair in your hand, guiding him to keep eating your pussy. His tongue was so fast and slick, he was savoring your taste so eagerly… It was impossible not to cum again with those dark eyes glued on yours. Trevor’s gaze was hypnotizing, and he wanted to make you dismantle in pleasure. So you did.

- I love making you cum - Trevor licked his drenched lips as you gasped for air. - I could do this all day if you’d let me, princess.

- I know you have your needs too, my love - you said, motioning for him to stand up.

As he did, you carefully lowered his pants. His erection sprung free, and you took him in your mouth gently, lapping up the precum oozing from his tip. He let out a moan or two, before gesturing for you to stop.

- As much as I love how you suck my dick, baby, that skirt needs to serve its purpose, doesn’t it?

You chuckled as Trevor made you get on your hands and knees on the couch. He didn’t even lift up your skirt, just moistened his length on your arousal underneath it. His cock was thick and throbbing inside you as he slowly inserted himself into your pussy.

His thrusts were feral as he grabbed your clothed hips and slapped your ass as you moaned loudly with each movement of his. You reached for your own clit and started touching yourself while he thrusted, making yourself cum again in a couple minutes. Trev slid himself out of your clenching pussy and saw some thick white fluid splayed over his shaft.

- Did you just cream on my cock, baby love, yeah? - Trevor grabbed your neck softly. - Did you cream your delicious pussy all over me?

You could barely talk back. Your skirt was already covered in your fluids, your ass was red from Trevor’s spanking, and only one thing was running through your mind.

- I need you to fill me up, Trev - you moaned, your head spinning from such pleasure. - I need you to cum deep inside my pussy, love… Then we’ll put our clothes back on and go out… And I’ll have your cum dripping down my legs for the rest of the day… please…

- Do you want your pussy to be leaking with my cum, baby girl? - he slapped your ass, groping it harshly afterwards. His thrusts were even faster now. - Do you want everyone to know you’re mine?

- Yes - you cried out, moaning. - Cum inside my pussy, please…

Trevor let out a few grunts and moans that made your insides twitch around his thick shaft. Soon enough, you felt his warm cum shoot inside your pussy, filling you up completely. You loved this feeling, you always felt so dominated when Trevor spilled into you.

As you two came down from your highs, Trev looked at you, a cocky smile on his face.

- So… Now you’re gonna have to keep your promise, right?

- What?

- Now you’re gonna put those panties back on and we’re going out for dinner, miss y/l/n…

You bit your lip, feeling naughtier than ever. Ugh, you loved Trevor Spengler.

#finn wolfhard smut #finn wolfhard x reader #mike wheeler x reader #mike wheeler #miles fairchild #trevor spengler #trevor spengler x reader #finn headcanons #smut #imagine

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month ago

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Locked Out of Heaven 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, age gap, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: Your father invites a work friend to the neighbourhood barbecue.

Characters: Nick Fowler (Dad’s friend trope)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

On the last stair, you trip. You catch yourself on your hands but can't avoid the noise. You hold your breath and listen to the house.

You stand up and focus on getting your foot over the lip of the step. You exhale and tiptoe down to your too. You nearly screech as a door opens. Austin walks out, his headset on and his eyes on his phone. You stand against the wall as he passes.

For the first time, you're thankful for his oblivion. You wait until you hear him in the kitchen to move. You flit into tour room and nearly collapse. Holy moley.

You drop your purse and your shoes. You spin and sit down on the end of the bed. You're dreamy and a bit drunk. You're eyes are glossy with fatigue yet your adrenaline is pumping.

A buzz keeps you from falling back. You blink and sway before you drag yourself to your feet. You stagger to your purse and take out your phone. There's only one person it can be.

Nick's message makes your cheeks burn even hotter.

'Great night with my girl. Sweet dreams.'

You giggle and type in 'good night'.

'I'll sleep good knowing you're mine.'

You're at a loss so you send a smile emoji. His reply is quick.

'No fun without me. Understand?'

You frown. 'What do you mean?'

'The toy. I'll tell you when you need to use it. First. Get some sleep. Send a pick of your pajamas so I know you listened like a good girl.'

You stare at the message. You have a naughty idea. You think it's too much but you're all bubbly. He'll like it, won't he?

You put your phone down and strip off the skirt and blouse. You stand in just the bra and look down at you body. He seems to like you a lot.

You grab the phone and lean it against your pillows. You sit on your knees and angle so the camera can't catch your full pelvis. You set the timer and pose. Ugh maybe sit up taller. Another shot. No, push your chest out.

That's it. You stare at the photo and shiver. You're not really going to send it, are you?

You tap the arrow and drop the phone. You grab a pillow and hide your face. Oh gosh! You could delete and hope he didn't see.

The phone vibes. You're relieved the ringer isn't on as you fumble to answer the call. You whisper into the speaker.

"Hello?"

"Bad girl. You know I'm driving and you're sending me that." Nick drawls.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you murmur.

"You don't got to be sorry, baby. You gotta warn me. The way you got my mind racing, I nearly swerved out." He growls. "Mmph, I could drive back there and..." he stops himself with a snicker. "Well... I told ya I'd be patient."

"Oh, okay. I... I hope you have a good night."

"With that image in my head, think I will," he purrs. "But princess? Don't think I'll forget that. I owe ya for that one."

You sit in silence, a bit hollow as the alcohol settles in your gut

"Alright. You better go to sleep. I need you to take care of yourself, baby."

"Alright, uh, um... good night."

"Mmhmm," he hums.

The line clicks and you blow out a deep breath. The timbre of his voice lingers in your chest. You can't believe someone like him is so into you!

You lay in the dark as your lips curve and your chest blooms with heat. More than that, flames lick through you, unabated. You close your eyes and you see him. You want him so bad. You never in your life wanted anyone like you do Nick.

💜

The next morning you wake up with fog in your eyes but otherwise you feel normal. As normal as you can after last night. You're trying not to think of it. You're trying to focus but you just can't stop. Last night was the most exciting thing you've ever done. You snuck out, you drank, you kissed...

For so long, life seemed to pass you by. You languish in your academic purgatory and everyone else gets to go out and have fun and be friends. Finally, you're doing something.

And with him. Everything about him is perfect. His eyes, his arms, his lips. You think about the day you met him, with his shirt off, the way his muscles were taut and rounded. And he's older. Everyone always says that's sexy.

Still, Nick can't change everything. He can't get rid of your dad, he can't extinguish all the expectations, and he certainly can't help with your advanced biology report. Back to boring.

You get your books set out and a tea to sip on as you work on your revised draft. Your phone isn't far. Just right there. You should have it on silent. You don't need the distraction. Even so, you jump when it buzzes. It's not even noon.

You glance over your shoulder and wait. Your dad's home for the day. It's the weekend. You thought he might go golfing but he's been yelling in the yard with Austin. They're probably working on a car or something.

You read the message quickly.

'Morning. Sorry I'm late.'

You dig your teeth into your lower lip, cheeks taut with a smile you can't contain. You send a heart emoji. 'Good morning.'

'Chipper. You feeling ok?'

'Feel good.' You send back.

He sends a wink emoji and the three dots of him typing bubble up beneath. When his message comes through, you reread it several times.

'Wanna feel better, princess?'

You rub your neck. You crane again, paranoid that your dad might sneak up and catch you. You return a question mark.

'Go get the toy.' His next message pops up. You gulp. Another message comes in. 'Baby. You're gonna be a good girl, right?'

Your hands tremble. You type in carefully.

'I'm doing schoolwork. I'll be done soon.'

You tap send and wait. Dread swells in your stomach.

'I didn't ask what you're doing. I told you what to do. Go and get the toy.'

You rock nervously and glance at the window. Hopefully, your dad doesn't find your books unattended. You get up cautiously and cross the room. You flit into the hall and hurry upstairs. As you get to your room, your phone shakes. Shoot.

You answer.

"Are you mad?" You ask.

"Baby girl," Nick tuts. "Not yet. Do you got the toy?"

"I'm in my room. Just looking..."

"Good girl. You just need to do what I say."

"Okay, er, but--"

"But," he echoes bluntly.

"Sorry, sorry. My dad's right downstairs."

"You don't worry about him. He won't know any better, will he?" Nick purrs. "Don't you wanna make me happy? Didn't I make you happy last night?"

You heart pounds and your stomach churns. You feel bad now. He did all that last night and you're arguing.

"I'll be good. I'm just... scared, I guess."

"Baby, it's cause it's new but that doesn't mean it's bad," he chides. "Now, pull down your pants."

You sniff. His command is sharp enough that you nearly drop the phone. You put him on speaker and place the phone on the dresser.

"One sec," you unbutton your fly.

"And your panties," he adds.

"Oh, okay," you push both down to your knees.

"Got the toy?"

You open the drawer and fish out the box from your clothes. "Yes."

"Kay, so, you gotta get yourself wet. How are you feeling?"

"Um... i don''t... know."

"Go on and touch yourself. It'll be easier."

You peek at the door. Your dad is going to come looking if he finds you gone.

"Okay," you reach between your legs. You squeak as you delve between your folds. Your fingers slide along your clit.

"What's going on, princess?"

"I... I'm a little wet."

"You gotta get more. Just... pretend it's me, baby. Hm? Like how I did in the car. Didn't that feel nice? My fingers all over you. The way I pet you good. Rubbed you up..." he rasps. "Mmm, you were so tight. So tight, princess, so I know you need to get nice and wet for me. You playing with yourself?"

"Yes," you quiver as your fingers swirl around in a mimic of what he did the night before.

"Uh huh, and it feels good?"

"Yes, Nick."

"Mmm, alright, well, I don't want you to cum. Not yet." He warns. "Take that toy out."

"Um, okay."

You pull your hand away from your cunt, keeping your wet fingers straight. You open the box and slide out the insert. You remove the toy.

"I preprogrammed it and got it nice and clean. You're going to want to lay down." He directs you.

"Okay..."

"Tell me when you're laying down."

You shuffle back awkwardly, your pants at your knees, and lower yourself onto the bed. You spread out along one side.

"I'm laying down."

"Good girl, now you feel the bigger part of the toy, you're gonna put it in you."

"In..." you repeat.

"Do it nice and slow for me, okay? You take it, rub it against your clit." He guides as his voice drags.

You do what he says, letting out a hum.

"Feel nice. Get it all wet."

You push it up and down your folds. Suddenly, it thrums. Just once. You squeak and he snickers.

"You feel that?" He asks.

"Uh... yeah."

"Good, it's working," he says. "You get it wet."

"Mmhmm."

"Then your going to push it just against your entrance. Wiggle it, okay, don't force it. Breathe. It should be too big. It's a small toy. I made sure."

"Right, I'm trying. It's getting wetter," you stare at the door, expecting it to open at any minute. Despite the shadow of what could happen, your body is tingling.

"Alright, you keep going." He coaxes. "You wanna know why I got you a small one?"

"Um, why?" You exhale as you press against your entrance.

"Cause, baby, I wanna be the one to stretch you out. I wanna feel you around me. How you need me--"

You whine and quickly stifle it as the toy dips into you. Only a little but enough. "It's going in."

"Mm, good girl. Deeper."

"Yes."

"Let me know when it's all in."

"Yes,it... I think... except--"

"The thin part you keep out. The end should go on your pretty little clit," he drawls.

"Oh. Okay," you move around the little flat circle and press it between your folds.

"Now pull your pants up." He intones.

"Huh?"

"No one will be able to tell. You're going to wear that for me and I'm going to play with you." He says.

"Um..." You babble.

"Better not be a no on your tongue," he snarls.

"It's not. I'm just... I'm learning," you sit up and twitch at the tightness of the toy inside you. "Oh, it's..."

"It's gonna feel a bit strange but it'll get better, baby."

You pull up your pants and button them. You walk with legs wide to take your phone. You groan and the toys buzzes on your clit.

"Oooh!" You exclaim and cup your hand over your mouth.

"Feel that?" he asks.

"Yes," you hiss through your fingers.

"How about this?" The part inside you vibrates. You squeak again. He chuckles. "This?"

It happens again, even more intense than the last time.

"Ayeee, yes," you bite your knuckle.

"Mm, you sound so good. I can't wait for the noises you make when I'm inside you. How about you, baby? You want that? You want me inside you?" He slithers.

"Y-y-yes," you stutter, your honesty lighting a new fire in you.

"You want me?"

"Yes," you whimper as you touch your pelvis.

"Yeah? Baby, I want you too. So bad."

"Yes, yes, yes..." you drone, barely able to think as the buzz thrums through you. Suddenly it stops.

"That's my good girl. Now, I know I interrupted you're studying so you go back down and finish," he orders.

"Yes, I... I'll try."

"Alright, you let me know when you soak through those panties," he growls. "Wish I could taste them."

You stop by the door, his words make you jittery. "My dad..."

"I know. Go. I'll be there. You'll feel me."

He hangs up and you sigh. You're relieved but not for long as the toy shakes again. You bite your lip and twitch. You grab the door and wait for the toy to stop before you go out. As nice as it feels, you're not going to be able to focus on your work.

#nick fowler #dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #series #locked out of heaven #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the 355

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ryiju-muunie · 1 year ago

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Juicy Juicy!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Fem!reader/Toji Fushiguro Warnings: hookups, clubbing, age difference, ass fetish, reader has a PHATT ASS, VERY public sex, HEAVY exhibitionism, breeding kink, creampie, dry humping, grinding, size kink, Toji has a big dick, standing mating press, finger sucking, daddy kink, pet names [good girl] Word count: 2313 DESC: I keep it juicy juicy, I eat that lunch~

STOP TAKING DOWN MY STUFF TUMBLRRRRR

Your friends had convinced you to go out that night. Typically you’d stay in and wear sweatpants, sinking into your couch and watching some TV. But something about tonight was different. You wanted to go out and… let’s be blunt here, get laid. You hadn’t had sex in a while, it was customary for you to yearn to be fucked like a dirty whore. So maybe you did wear something low cut, even though your main asset was your ass. You chose a purple mini skirt that exposed a baby pink thong between your legs and on your hips. Then your top, just a purple tube top. You wanted something that could get ripped off easily.

Walking into that club, you didn’t expect your eyes to land on the hottest man there. He was large, bigger than anyone you’d ever seen before. Muscles poking out of his wife-beater and spiky hair framing his face. A scar pulled at his smirk as his eyes met yours. He was older, older than what you’d typically go for. But that’s not what made you pause, it was the log in his pants. Those tight black jeans didn’t leave anything to the imagination. You could practically feel it from the entrance of the club. Your friends murmured something to you about getting a drink, but you didn’t care to have them repeat it clearly.

Your mind was set. You were going to fuck him.

Two thick legs pulled you down the dance floor, inching toward him. You turned on your heel, ass out in his direction as you began to sway. The song was something you’d never listen to on your own, but it was perfect for clubbing. All it was was an excuse to grind on people, feel their bodies and the heat that came with it. Dry-humping was hot. You couldn’t deny it. The thought of getting so close to cumming without penetration … was hot. An erection pressed to your ass, in the sea of sweaty bodies, aching to release on your skin. That’s what turned you on

You tilted your head to the side, letting layers of hair brush against your forehead. You peeked to see if he was watching, and he was. His stare was lustful, practically tearing you apart with nothing but his eyes. You could hide behind all that hair, but it wouldn’t save you from his perverted stare. Now, you needed him to come closer. A hand trailed up your side, lightly pulling at the hem of your skirt. It was short, practically a belt that left nothing to the imagination. It didn’t help, you were wet. You were just a whore who found her next meal; Who wouldn’t be wet under that stare? You could feel your thong sticking to your pussy, clinging to the crevices, and making your movements tight. If you moved the wrong way it would create a tense friction that would make your legs wobble.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I’m gonna have to take you out,” a voice purred in your ear. He was behind you, a hand snaking around your waist and pressing you against his front. Your eyes fluttered closed and you let his warm touch take hold of your body. Even his scent was hot, making your head spin. It was a mix of expensive cologne and firewood, musky, sexy, and mouth-watering.

“Oh? Maybe I want you to take me out,” a smile pulled at your lip, as you turned away your head bashfully. Your hips spoke for you, rolling lazily in a circle to the music.

The man laughed coldly, hands directing your ass into his growing erection, “Name’s Toji.” You told him your name, gasping when one of his hands moved to your front, playing with the top hem of your short skirt, “You like ‘em older, huh? Naughty girl…” He cooed, nose touching your earlobe. Before you could respond, a wet tongue trailed from the spot where your ear and jaw connected, down to the crook of your neck. He bit down, applying pressure on your stomach to keep you in place.

You gasped, hands on top of his, “...Tease.” You gritted, through a dazed smile, “Buy me a drink and I can show you how much I like older men, Toji,” you turned your head to the side, nose brushing against his soft hair.

Toji pulled back from your neck, admiring the small mark he had left behind. His half-lidded eyes looked at you and nodded. But he didn’t move, slowly grinding into your plush ass. Your top teeth found your glossed bottom lip, biting down when he let out a groan. Oh, he was perverted. He didn’t care who was watching, just if he could get off. You knew from the way he carried himself, he liked to tease and prod at women, before pleasuring them with his length. And you knew, he wasn’t going to cum his pants for some simple dry humping in a club. So you gave, pressing your behind into his erection, which you could feel prominently through your skirt. He let out a gruff noise, both hands on your lower stomach. You danced to the music, at least, that’s what you disguised it as. To other people, they’d see a couple who was just handsy, but you didn’t. You knew exactly what was going on. He was teasing himself, getting a taste for you. Getting drunk off of your smell and your ass alone.

You knew an ass man anywhere. The way his hands trailed from your front to your back, squeezing occasionally, or how tight his grip was on you, to keep your ass from leaving his clothed cock. Toji liked your bottom more than he liked your face, which you didn’t really care for. There was something you were after that was better than his hot face, his large cock. You hadn’t been fucked by someone as big as him before, and it was a curious kind of horny that took over your pussy. You longed to see a bulge from his dick form on your abdomen, growing as he pumped you with cum.

One of the man’s hands trailed up your front, squeezing your breasts before his fingers found home in your mouth. You didn’t care that you were in the middle of a club, greedily opening your mouth for them. It was hot, it was sticky, and it was sweaty. You moaned as you sucked against his digits, head leaning against his shoulder blade.

“Dirty slut… you want Daddy’s fingers so bad, huh?” He smirked, and you knew he was smirking too. One of his large legs spread yours apart, perching you on his thigh. It was wrong, to do this in the middle of a club's dance floor, but you couldn’t help it. You were throbbing, pussy lips spread in your thong. Your clit rubbed against the fabric, then on his thigh, causing you to moan through his fingers. “Good girl…” He murmured, head beside yours, “Take what’s yours, baby.”

You started to grind against his thigh. It was awkward sure, but you didn’t care. How could you care? You wanted to be fucked stupid. Your legs spread and you bent forward, hands on your knees and mouth stuffed with his thick fingers. To anyone, it looked like you were dancing to the songs playing on the speakers, in the dim light. But you were busy trying not to moan too loudly. Pleasure shot up through your pussy, into your clit, and down your walls. Your eyes rolled back slightly, as you whimpered through a full mouth. It was only a matter of time before your slutty cunt came, staining your thong with slick cum. Toji felt you cum, and as a reward, he pulled you up by the neck. You whined and grinned, saliva trailing down your chin.

“Little whore… Cumming from some grinding.. I’m gonna make you feel so good,” his words were honey to you. You took them in and nodded helplessly, so you followed him when he brought you to the back of the club. It was dim, lights flashing a neon pink. Couples were up against the wall, grinding and making out, so no one noticed when the two of you did the same. Although, it was different. His hands pulled your skirt up, your legs around his hips, and his fingers spreading apart your pussy in your thong. You gasped and gave into the touch, rolling your hips to get any sort of friction. It was pathetic how easily you unraveled for a man twice your age, but you didn’t care. It was sweaty, it was gross, it was nasty, but it was hot, it was arousing, it was godly.

“Take ‘em off,” Toji uttered, letting go of you and letting your legs hit the ground. You nodded and did as he said, taking off your pink thong and admiring how wet it had become. The man grabbed it and stuffed it in your mouth, not giving you time to react as you were picked up again. Legs pressed above your head, you both were going to get caught, but you didn’t care. It was a kind of mating press, but up in the air. You cried through a stuffed mouth, as his pants fell. He held you up by pressing his front against yours, one hand supporting your ass and the other dealing with the erection in his jeans. You didn’t get a chance to see it, but you got a chance to feel it.

You looked down as he aligned his tip with your folds, grinning as he groaned, “So tight…” How was no one catching on? But you didn’t have time to care, as he thrust into you. Both of Toji’s hands were on your knees, well under them, holding you up. Think of it like this, a full Nelson but in reverse, so you were facing him. A standing mating press, with your knees bent instead of up in the air.

His dick slid into you with ease. Such a slut, you didn’t need time to adjust, even though you were tight. You were plush and clenching just for him. Your stomach bulged, just as you hoped. A moan flew out of your mouth and you leaned your head back. It was hitting every spot. Being so big, you were getting off from no friction at all, just the feeling of his dick in you was enough. But then Toji started to thrust, pulling out ever so slightly then snapping his hips, forcing himself back into you. You gasped, eyes widening. It hurt, it hurt so good. You were being stretched out in ways you loved, in ways you hadn’t before. Such a greedy whore you were, whining through your underwear-stuffed mouth. You could taste yourself on your tongue as he plunged into you, your walls clinging onto him making it hard for him to pull out. Plush, soft, spongey, better than any sex toy he could have purchased.

“Fuck… pretty pussy for a pretty slut,” Toji’s eyes closed, his face resting against your neck. Your arms rose and swung around his back, digging painted nails into his shoulder blade. He moaned, thrusting in you with such velocity you couldn’t handle it. Spit dribbled down your chin, more so than earlier. Your tongue threatened to hang out, but it was blocked by the thong forced down your throat. But your eyes said enough. He was rubbing all those perfect, sensitive areas, making them unfocus and cross. Something out of a porno, your moans muffled but high-pitched for him. For him and his large cock. You wanted the man to pump you full of his semen, and make you a pretty little mommy. You would be such a pretty mommy. You whined at the thought, hips grinding against his cock.

“I’m gonna…” he groaned, pulling back to look at you. With beads of sweat forming at the base of his forehead, “I’m gonna cum…” You nodded quickly, giving him all the permission in the world.

Who cared if he fucked you this loudly in public? No one had caught you yet. You almost forgot because of how good it felt, waves of pleasure rushing through your pussy and into your insides, making you clench around his dick. It was a few more seconds before he moaned again, signaling he was becoming closer. You needed it. You needed him to fuck his cum into your cunt and make you writhe in it, make you bathe in it. Fill you up so good you could feel it in your throat. Fucking your cervix and making you pregnant. Making you a good little mommy for your daddy, huh? You tried to speak, to moan, but it was cut off when he came inside you. Ropes splattered against your walls and your back arched. It felt so good to be filled up, you hadn’t been used as a cum bucket in so long. You wanted it so bad you unraveled too, spilling all along his dick with your filthy cream. Toji fucked you through his high, groaning and moaning into your ear as he came. Spurts of cum traveled inside you and made your legs shake. It was so good, it was so warm. You just wanted to sit there with it inside you and let it fester for hours, relishing in the warmth.

You two didn’t even notice the security guard behind Toji until he tapped the man’s shoulder, “Uh excuse me?” You glanced over at him, a spit-covered thong hanging from your mouth, “You two are going to have to leave the premises.”

Toji blinked a few times and looked over at the security guard, “Sorry. This isn’t the first time this has happened, hah.”

#jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x you #fushiguro #jjk fushiguro #zenin #x reader #x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #ryiju-muunie writing

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brucewaynehater101 · 1 year ago

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DC Santa is a troll so when he knows he's going to die and he sends his powers to the young heroes he knows he's about to traumatize, he tweaks things just a little, he's got the time after all, he goes all over the world in a night, the comet is in slow motion to him, not that he'd move, and these little chaotic gremlins have been so good despite everything life has thrown at him and he really owes them quite a backlog of gifts

While Santa may go to apocalypse every year, he goes nowhere near Gotham

To Tim, Tim knows everyone's deepest desire with a look, this ability is especially effective in December. Tim becomes the master of picking out the best holiday and birthday presents

Cassie can speak and understand ALL the languages she comes across

People now automatically have some level of trust towards Greta, know that she's a nice person who would protect them to the best of her ability, had she stayed in the superhero community, she would have attained dick grayson levels of trust among the other capes

Kon has a sense of who's on the naughty list and who's on the nice list, makes it easier to steer away from creepers now who would take advantage of him since it's not like he has a grown up to help him figure that out

Bart is even faster and yet his metabolism is evened out a bit, he's less desperately hungry all the time, can get away with just snacks instead of eating an entire all you can eat buffet, though he's still capable of that, and he has even more of a sweet tooth than before

Slobo is capable of lifting even more than Lobo, the sort of strength and balance one would need to carry a sack filled with presents for the world, or the universe

Anita gets a knack for Christmas magic, the little illusions that bring a little extra joy to a person's life and when she and Tim collaborate they find they can put into motion butterfly effects, tiny actions that cause huge, joyous results, and Anita's gingerbread houses never rot

Cissie gets the anonymity, there are so many Santas but no one could ever tell you which one is real, in the future she never has to worry about someone connection her heroic past to her civilian present, except for her friends of course

I love this AU/hc so much, and how you included more than just the core four for it.

For Tim, I know he's absolutely using that power of his for no good. He uses it to make villains (and some Bats) cry when he mentions or even gets them their deepest desire. I am curious if the deepest desire is only for physical stuff or for the unattainable too (like I bet Dick would love to do a Flying Graysons routine with his parents one more time).

I love Cassie's cause she probably freaks the JL out when she starts speaking thr same dialect of an alien species no one has even heard of before.

Greta's is perfect. I hope she finds lots of use for it in her retirement. I would love a spin off of her just utilizing that power when she goes to college, gets a job, etc.

Kon's makes me want to cry. It's amazing for him, but the reasoning is so sad. I hope YJ is able to help him and that he's better able to take care of himself with this.

I like to imagine Anita's parents/kids looking up to her in amazement as her gingerbread house still stays standing after 5 months.

I'm glad Bart has more choice in his need to eat. Tim probably helps him by buying lots of food, but it's nice that Bart, in this AU, doesn't have to constantly be eating as much.

I don't know as much about Slobo (which is a damn right shame), but it seems DC did him dirty (something about him slowly dying and then sacrificing himself???). Anyways, I hope his strength helps him feel more reassured with himself and confident. I hope he can use it to uplift those he cares about.

Cissie's sounds great. There's tons of stories about the price of fame being a lack of privacy. With this, maybe she'll be able to have a normal life as well

#dc comics #dc universe #young justice #young just us #thank you for the ask!!!!#santa dc #tim drake #anita fite #cassie sandsmark #cissie king jones #greta hayes #secret dc #kon el #kon el superboy #kon el kent #conner kent #bart allen #slobo dc

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absolutebl · 27 days ago

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Hello! Do you have data about branded pairs that start off as side pairs that successfully upgrade and lead their own series? I'm thinking about side pairs like JuniorMark, WinnySatang, and AouBoom that work together for years and multiple series. Maybe side pairs outside of GMMTV have better luck?

Side Couples Make Good

Pair branding kinda wigs me out and while I did start tracking them there just got to be too many, so I gave up, however, I do have a short list that exactly fit your criteria.

BounPrem

One of the first who I remember as a solid side couple in a BL series (Until We Meet Again) that everyone lost their minds over. They were given their own spin-off, as the same couple, Between Us. But they have also lead out Even Sun. They started with Wabi Sabi and moved to GMMTV as a pair and we should be getting a new BL from them soonish.

They are still top sponsorship holders, mostly on the back of that one Lay's potato chip. Solid work there all round, boys.

KimCop

Started in 2 Moons as the side couple that barely got anywhere but went on to have a decent pair lifespan, leading 2 seasons of Gen Y, 2 seasons of Close Friend, and then That's My Candy.

They dissolved the pair, and I, for one, will miss them, mostly because they never got to star in a quality BL and I think they could have.

MaxNat

Still active, they started as a very minor side couple in Why R U? and remained sides in Mandee projects until their 4th BL Naughty Babe. I would never have picked them as an endurance pair, but they stuck to it and it paid out for them. They have a couple new BLs in the works and they seem to have a solid working relationship.

So long as people like watching them, this is my indie pick for the tortoise pair of BL. They could do with some more brand and sponsor deals IMHO but they seem game to keep going no matter what.

TutorYim

Another Mandee pair, very very minor in Cutie Pie but everyone loved them, so they were given leads in 2 more BLs. Middleman's Love (with was a JimmyTommy project before they broke) and Battle of the Writers.

JaFirst

Now defunked, they started as a side couple in TharnType 2. However, I am not sure they meet your criteria since mame often reuses her pairs and its possible they were always intended to go on to star as the leads. They stayed with her for Don't Say No and then branched out to do Remember Me and Be Mine Superstar before dissolving the brand.

They are both still doing BL.

SalibPon

Pon had done a lot of BL before with other pairs, but he left Star Hunter for Change and was paired up with Salib and I think we are all grateful. They got their own show This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans and are now back in Pit Babe 2.

I hope they stick and we get more from them. They are one of my favorite currently active pairs.

A few that kinda fit your criteria that may surprise

I can go into the way back machine a pull a few you might not realize started as sides, ready?

OffGun

Started in Puppy Honey 1 & 2 as the side couple. Then lead BL Theory of Love as (sort of) new characters.

TayNew

Started in the 2 season Kiss series as a side couple, got to lead their own spin off in Dark Blue Kiss as that couple, then went on to do other BLs.

MaxTul

Kind of the "side" couple in Bad Romance before they went on to lead the 2 Together series. And more.

I'm not sure I count YinWar as starting as a side couple. They kind of lead out their small section of En of Love. But they are the only pair to come from that franchised to make good.

Going back over 2020 Thai BLs and earlier, I can't find other pairs who made good. So to speak. Some stayed sides for a few more shows, like MikeToptap, and ultimately left their studios and/or broke the pair.

Hope this kinda answers your question.

(source)

#asked and answered #successful side couples #BounPrem #KimCop #MaxNat #TutorYim #JaFirst #SalibPon #OffGun #TayNew #MaxTul

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hazelfoureyes · 1 year ago

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Angel’s Alastor

「Warnings/Promises: Angel x Alastor, bondage, rutting into beds, rutting into pants, Alastor keeps his dick in those pants, kisses, smooches, tentacle fucking, masturbation, cum eating implied??, karaoke reference」

Angel imagines Alastor is his co-star in a naughty film. Luckily he has just the toy to help him get into the scene.

MinoRS DNI 👨🏻‍🏭🙅🏻

The offer to fuck on camera was partly a joke and partly an invitation.

Angel had the ability to later say it was just self deprecating humor to even allude to wanting to fuck Alastor. The radio demon. The strawberry pimp.

What a laugh, Tall Dark and Creepy? Famously, whether he had a term for it or not, disinterested in sex?

When he stopped to think about, watching Alastor sip a whiskey and stare off into the void, what would that even look like?

Sex with Alastor, that is.

Angel watched his mouth part and peeked at his tongue. He sure did talk a lot, maybe his tongue had some skill. Wagging all day made for a strong muscle.

And he was strong. Not a hunk by any measure but he could tear apart airships and summon minions with a snap. Kinda hot. Power always added a level of attractiveness.

Alastor’s ears … twitched. Perhaps a bug had landed on one. Angel’s head tilted a little as his eyes followed down Alastor’s long neck. Did he have chest fluff to match the ears? His happy trail… red? Black? What about his backside? A little tail?

Hooves…. Angel could take them or leave them. But he lingered at the calves and arms. Where he knew the black faded into the tan pallor of his face. Did his cock fade too? A gradient Angel could squeeze and try to feel through his skin.

“What about you, Angel?”

“Oh fuck, I totally zoned out and forgot we were … we were doin’ something. Sorry Charlie.”

Charlie’s fingers templed, “We were having a conversation. About how you think redemption is going?”

Angel blinked away the tingle up his spine as Alastor’s attention turned to him, “Yeah that sounds great, sign me up okay? I’m headed out, I gotta go for a walk or some shit.”

It was ‘some shit.’

A couple drinks, a few rounds of karaoke, and a quick make out session with a very generous stranger and Angel found Alastor had disappeared entirely. Until he curled into his bed to let the spinning room rock him to sleep.

And he wondered…

If Alastor was one of the guys in his shoots. The big bad who kidnapped him….

Angels arms were tied behind his back—

No, Angel stopped, Alastor would never go through the motions of tying someone up.

Angel's arms were held above his head and behind his back by writhing and curious black tentacles. A dark and smoky room, Alastor standing pretty as his shadows did all the work.

“I’m going to need your cooperation, Angel Dust.”

Angel struggled, “Not a chance. Val would kill me and he’s a lot scarier than you.”

“Now now, you’ve barely let me explain the details.” Alastor took four swift and long strides to be within touching distance. “You report back what the Vees discuss. No theft, no clandestine recording devices.”

Alastor had to look up to meet Angel’s indignant gaze.

“And what’s in it for me?” A smirk.

“That depends, what do you want?” Alastor’s clawed hand touched his hip, “Anthony.”

Angel peeled off his shorts and vest. He’d found a fun narrative, one he wanted to see through. A hand wrapped around his still half soft cock and began gentle tugs.

“You don’t have what I want.” Angel bit his lip. He watched the radio demon’s brow arch, a challenge. “So why don’t you stop playin’ and either let me go or get your dick out.”

A laugh he’d heard a hundred times before bouncing off the walls he hadn’t bothered to imagine, “Dirty mouth for an ‘angel’.”

“Oh you don’t even know the half of what my mouth can do.” His tongue rolled out and beckoned Alastor closer, “And I ain’t no angel.”

His dark eyes stayed calm as new appendages began ripping off Angel’s clothes. “Oh that’s right. Angel Dust. You’re a drug. Cheap and addictive.”

“Aww and I thought you didn’t watch my movies!”

“I have no interest in filth.”

“You sure ‘bout that? Seem interested enough in me.”

“You, Anthony, are not filth.” Alastor’s hand slid down Angel’s stomach, past his erection and balls. “You are art best seen up close. Intimate viewings only. Where patrons can take their time to admire the details.”

Alastor’s fingers pressed gently at Angel’s puckered hole.

Angel tried to slow the prodding of his now lubed fingers at his entrance. Alastor would be frustratingly slow. But he wanted Alastor to rush in, to hurt him a little. But then why even think of him? Anyone could do that. Everyone does do that.

Alastor’s middle finger slipped in. Angel wanted a kiss, wanted anything more but the overlord didn’t allow him any movement.

A second finger. Quick and sloppy thrusts, poor preparation but more than some. A third finger, Angel moaned Alastor’s name.

Once he started he couldn’t stop, “Alastor. Alastor. Alastor!” Every time he said it louder it made his fingers feel like they could truly belong to Alastor. Leaking and fully erect, his dick was pulsing in reply.

“Oh fuck, Alastor. I know you have more for me. Come on, daddy.” Angel’s ass was rocking against those quick fingers. “Gimme more. Ya can’t break me.”

A wicked grin, Alastor’s free hand coming to rake through Angel’s chest fluff, “Oh, I absolutely can. But, luckily for you, I’m not interested in seeing you in pieces.”

Three fingers slipping in and out with slicked ease, Angel rummaged in his side drawer feeling around for the shape he was seeking. Tongue out with concentration until he felt the little bumps and the curve he needed.

He’d rarely used the tentacle dildo, but suddenly it seemed like a very convenient purchase. The tip was so thin, the base so wide.

From point a to b, Angel lost track of the storyline. He just needed to skip ahead, quick fingers to hungry tentacles working in time with the real life toy. A taper that allowed Alastor to reach deeply but still stretch his hole with enough burn to keep Angel’s attention on where they connected. Could Alastor feel him? How much was he able to sense through his shadow appendages?

His face didn’t let on, no slip of what he was feeling.

Angel’s soul was his own when outside of Val’s studio, time he’d happily sell to Alastor to see the man so much as break a sweat. But he could, at least in his head.

“Would it kill ya to kiss me?” Angel wished he could hide his need better but even in his dreams he was melting for a chance to feel Alastor. Skin to skin, wet warmth anywhere on him. “I could make ya see stars behind your eyelids.”

A hum, hand slipping up his neck and to his jaw, “Dear I don’t need to close my eyes to see a star.” Angel held his breath as Alastor leaned in, a slow tilt of his head threatening to pull another moan from him. His eyes closed and he waited for that feeling of soft lips against his.

And he waited.

With a huff he opened his eyes to complain about the hold up, but his words got caught in his throat when he saw the expression on Alastor’s face. Knitted brows and heated cheeks, he’d never seen such a needy look.

A look that twisted back to its usual smirk when a thrust into Angel pulled a shocked whine from the spider demon. Even in his dreams he would be made to beg.

“Do ya want my help or not?” His voice was huskier than before, struggling to keep his reactions to a minimum.

“Oh? A kiss is all it costs? There’s the cheap part.”

“And I’ll show ya the addictive part if ya hurry up already.” Maybe Alastor was loosening the restraints, maybe Angel was just adept at escapes, but he managed to pull a hand free.

Grabbing hold of the smaller demon by the ear he pulled Alastor into a kiss.

Another moan. He felt the heat of the blush reaching his own ears; it was just a kiss. But it made him twitch at the idea. Even as the long black toy bottomed out, his mind was on the ghostly pair of lips he could almost feel.

Like a man with time to kill, Alastor didn’t let Angel slip his tongue in until he heard the hunger in his breaths. And as Angel’s tongue reached deeper into his mouth, so did the tentacle in him. His knees began shaking, finally both holes full of Alastor.

Angel’s tongue danced behind his teeth, going through the motions. He wanted more friction. Rolling onto his stomach, Angel began rutting into his bed.

Alastor pulled him close, grinding his crotch into Angel’s leaking cock. Every roll of his hips pulled a gasp from the porn star.

“You're gonna get your pants all dirty.” Angel’s mouth left Alastor’s long enough to comment but Alastor’s leaned back and out of reach when he tried to return.

“Hmm, I’ll have to make you lick them clean after.”

Angel’s head fell back, he gripped the toy with five fingers around the base and pumped it in and out. Every return to his tight heat seemed to stretch him a little wider, prod new depths no dick had ever managed to reach before.

If it wasn’t Alastor, he’d be scared. But the two hands holding his hips in place as his precum was smeared into the overlord’s pants felt like a safety net. Alastor wouldn’t go too far. He was a master at pushing limits and that was it.

Angel’s mouth hung open, drool sliding down his chin as his hips picked up speed. A hand came between his legs and began stroking his shaft. He wanted to cum.

He needed to cum. He dropped his head back down and let his free hand slide across the lapels of Alastor’s suit.

Twisting the toy, he hit it.

“There!! You’re hitting my spot. Don’t stop.” Angel’s body shook. The radio demon grabbed him gently by the neck and gave a testing squeeze.

Angel’s hand tightened slightly on his throat. Just enough to make the pressure in his head become noticeable.

“Alastor please, I’m close. Don’t stop, don’t ya dare fuckin’ stop,” his slit was sliding across the precum soaked fabric. It was rough, but made him cry as he grew harder and more sensitive. “Gonna cum soon.”

His cock was still rubbing into his silky blanket despite his hand’s direct help. He pulled a throw pillow into his mouth and screamed. Every ounce of his brain’s focus went to his dick and caused his hand to slow the thrusts into himself.

He was pulled into a breath stealing kiss. With Alastor’s mouth on him again, exhales across his skin, Angel came with a cry. Alastor’s tentacle buried deep in him as his cock pulsed lines of semen across the demon's pants.

Angel‘s hips kept thrusting, smearing his seed into the blanket and across his knuckles. He took his hand off the toy and let the spasms of his twitching hole push it out and back onto the bed.

Alastor’s tongue swiped up Angel’s lips. He didn’t stop rubbing his lap into the groaning demon even as his tentacles all withdrew. Angel fell to his knees before long and thin fingers pulled his chin up.

“Now, lick.”

༻Masterlist༺

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon n , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , , @fizzled-phoenix , @phobophobular , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl

#radiodust smut #alastor x angel dust #hazbin hotel smut #angel dust #alastor smut #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel angel #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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kuroneko1815 · 5 months ago

Text

Dress up day, Birthday boy

All Reynold wanted for his birthday was to spend time with his adorable little niece. He thought of the chubby round cheeks and pudgy hands of the empire’s only little princess, she was mischief incarnate, his compatriot in chaos, the vengeance dealt to the thieving dragon emperor who had stolen his sister. Yes, little Judith was the one person the emperor never stood a chance against. He had seen his brother-in-law argue and fail against Penelope, but the man could never say anything or look angry in the face of his daughter. Not that anyone but Penelope could anyway.

His sister was the only one who could control the little hellion he’d trained, the hell spawn husband she’d chosen, and the whole of the imperial court as an extension. Often bringing two of the three to tears, mostly the courtiers who piqued the Emperor’s anger, or the Emperor himself, rarely so, Judith when she’d been particularly naughty. The courtiers often preferred their metaphorical tears of blood form her scolding rather than the literal blood bath that the Emperor would unleash should he be left to deal with the court on his own, which he had been before he’d married Penelope.

“Unca!” The little princess said happily as he’d finally made it to her playroom.

“Your highness!” He said happily as he lifted the little girl that ran into his arms. He spun around, letting the upper half of her body fall through as she laughed.

“Happy Birfday!” She said when they had stopped spinning, still in his arms. “Come pway wif me!”

Reynold nodded. “That’s why I’m here.” He agreed easily.

“I wanna pway wif daddy and Win-win.” She decided.

“Why do we need them?” He asked. “I’m plenty fun all by myself.”

“No!” Princess Judith said stubbornly. “I wanna pway wif them!” She looked at him with big red eyes starting to water, her lower lip stuck out ready to cry.

“Yes, yes, let’s go get them, shall we?” He said immediately as he took off down the hall with his niece in his arms.

Emperor and mage secured, they all sat down around the little table that was in the playroom as they had a little tea party. “More tea, daddy?” She asked as she poured the sweet tea into the little porcelain child sized tea cups that Penelope had given her the day before.

“I would love some more, Princess.” The Emperor sipped the tea unabashed. There was a knock on the door as the maids entered with a few parcels.

“Here are the items you asked for, Princess.” The maids said deferentially as they bowed.

Judith grinned. “Fank you!” She said. “Please call mommy!”

“As you wish.”

When it was just the four of them again, Judith got up and ran to the parcels. “Dress up time!” She declared as she opened the packages and revealed… maids dresses, large ones.

“For daddy, Unca, and Win-win.” She said.

They all shared the same looks of horror as they tried to deny it. But alas, the power of her eyes and her tears was too much for them and they all gave in within a minute.

“Ahh, pwetty!” She said happily clapping as she gave them certain things to hold. For the Emperor, she gave him a bouquet of flowers, for the Marquis, it was jewelry for him to wear, and for Reynold himself, a box filled with chocolates. “Mommy will be so happy. Maybe no more crying?” She said thoughtfully.

“Penelope has been crying?” He asked sharply.

The emperor looked at him, face serious. “Don’t jump to conclusions when your fancifully empty brain will no doubt lead you. Ask her yourself.” He said as he tugged at the ribbon on their neck or whatever it was. Just as he’d said that, Penelope walked in, slightly red eyed.

“Baby…�� She paused as she took them in and burst into laughter. Marquis Verdandi crouched down and his face. Reynold grumpily opened the box of chocolate only for more than half of it to tumble down.

The emperor walked towards her and handed her the flowers, unmindful of the shameful clothes they’d been forced to wear. He pulled her in close and Judith ran to them and hugged her as well. “No more sad, mommy. No more cry!” She demanded.

“Yes, yes Judy. Though it’ll be hard. You’ll always be there to make me laugh right?” She said as she burst into another fit of laughter at the sight of them. “I’m impressed she got all of you to do it.”

“Can you blame us? There’s no saying no to her. I don’t know how you do it.” Reynold said as he pulled at the dress in disdain.

“Easily.”

The emperor stroked her head. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, though I suppose you know my emotions will be all over the place for the next few months just like it was with Judy.” Penelope replied as she leaned into his hand.

“Huh?” Reynold asked looking between the two. “Just like with Judy?” He thought back to when Penelope was moody and could only think of one that related to his niece. “Are you pregnant again, Penelope?”

“Your majesty.” The emperor reminded him firmly.

“Are you pregnant again, your majesty?” Reynold amended begrudgingly.

Penelope smiled at him. “Yes, I am.”

Reynold cheered. “Did you hear that, Judy?” He called out to the little girl who was now happily in her mother’s arms. “You’re going to be a big sister!”

“Big sister?”

“Yes, there’ll be a baby in a few months?”

“Like my dolly?”

“Like that but soft and squishy and someone you can play with.” Reynold told her.

Judith cheered along with him. “Hooray, baby!” Judith cheered and Reynold joined her, taking her from the Empress’ arms as they danced about the room. He could see the Marquis flee from the commotion as he used his magic to hide himself, his clothing in hand but he didn’t care.

The emperor and empress made their way to the door, the empress had the emperor’s own clothes in her arms while he had merely draped his mantle over the dress. Before Penelope was fully out the door she paused and turned back. “Oh and happy birthday, Reynold.”

And then the door shut closed but not before he heard the emperor say, “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love. Is that right?”

“It is.”

But he paid it no mind. He’d forgotten, in the whole commotion of Judith’s dress stunt and the announcement of a new niece or nephew, that it was his birthday today. What a wonderful day. He couldn’t wait to rub it into father and Derrick’s faces that he knew this before they did.

#villains are destined to die #death is the only ending for a villainess #vadd #death is the only ending for the villainess #fanfic #Happy Birthday Reynold

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becca-e-barnes · 2 years ago

Text

As a romantic, sentimental shit, I decided to add a little spin off to the Moving In series.

While I'm not a huge fan of Christmas, Christmas Eve always felt really special to me. Christmas Eve traditions in our family have changed a lot over the years but I'm really excited to start my own! I've been trying to imagine what my perfect Christmas Eve would be like next year and it'd be pretty damn close to this.

If you celebrate it, have a lovely Christmas tomorrow! If you don't, I hope you have a wonderful day!

There's no way to keep the cat off the twinkling fairy lights on the tree. You've tried every trick the internet could offer but nothing stops her; except her own sleepiness.

After a long afternoon fighting the lights (and losing), she's curled up in the armchair, peacefully sleeping.

The tree is safe.

For now.

"Your fluffy murderer is asleep." Bucky hums contentedly, pulling you impossibly closer to him on the sofa.

"Good." It's about time. Even the TV playing Olaf's Frozen Adventure doesn't seem to be disturbing her and she loves that movie.

You're surprised the heat hasn't knocked Bucky out yet. Between your body heat, the matching pyjamas you're both wearing and the glowing embers of the fire, you're surprised he's not asleep too.

"What's Santa bringing tomorrow?" Bucky teases, running his hand from your hip to your waist, slipping his hand under you top and letting it rest there.

"I don't know! Hopefully the stand mixer I asked for... Maybe some baking supplies... Some cat treats maybe." You smile at the thought and feel Bucky laughing against your back.

"That cat of yours has not made it onto the Nice List, sweetheart. No chance. Santa won't be visiting her." His lips are curled into a smile as they drift from your collar, up the back of your neck.

"She's been good the rest of the year. She's only been naughty since I put the tree up." You feel like you have to protest on her behalf, even though you know Santa will be bringing her plenty of cat treats.

"So there's hope for you too then if that's how Santa works. If he excuses short bursts of naughtiness, you might still make it." His hand trails its way back to your hip, slipping just under the waistband of your pyjama shorts.

"I've been good this year and you know it!" You tease, pressing your ass back against him.

"Oh see no, this is naughty." Bucky corrects you, kissing your neck with a little more pressure.

"I don't think so. You seem to like it so this is me being nice." You wiggle your ass against the front of his pyjamas, enjoying the evidence of his interest.

"Don't argue sweetheart, that'll put you firmly on the Naughty List." He knows you hate reasoning like that.

"Well, if you've been so good this year, what's Santa bringing you?"

There's a short pause but the kissing over your neck doesn't stop.

"I don't know... I don't need anything." He didn't ask you for anything for that same reason. "I have everything I need here."

"That's gross. Grow up." You know he can't see the way that made you smile so you're free to affectionately bully him for saying it.

"You're so right." He laughs, somehow shuffling even closer to you.

"I'm sure if I got down on my hands and knees in front of the tree and looked right in at the back, I could find a gift with your name on it." You go back to rubbing your ass against his crotch, tempting him to escalate.

"Sweetheart, that view alone would be enough of a gift." He's got a special way of making you feel like a temptation, without ever objectifying you. God, he's wonderful. "But I want to see that pretty face. I want to lay you down under your tree and unwrap my gift properly."

"Unwrapping your gift early will put you on the Naughty List!" You try to feign disgust at the very suggestion but really, that's all you want.

"Then I'll be the happiest man on the damn Naughty List this year." He laughs, scooping you up and laying you down on the plush carpet.

"You're more of a terror than the cat." You giggle before his lips are pressed to yours, kissing you with an intensity you really quite enjoy. His tongue slips past your lips, rubbing against your own and it's almost dizzying to start so intensely.

Your fingertips dig into his broad, muscular back and shoulders. It's easy to let need cloud your brain and he doesn't seem to mind as he sheds his pyjama top.

"We aren't matching anymore." You smile, reaching for the bottom of your own top, pulling it off in one swift motion.

"Excuse me. You're unwrapping my present for me." Bucky pretends to be horrified but your decision has its perks. He's now got full access to your breasts and it's like Christmas came early for him.

He wastes no time, sucking and kissing and licking your breasts. His tongue flicks over your stiff nipples, enjoying the way the sensation makes you squeal and writhe under his mouth.

"Bucky... Please." You whine after a while, desperate for him to move on.

"Someone's needy." Bucky smiles, raising an eyebrow before he reaches down to remove the bottom half of your pyjama set.

Fuck, he's not wrong. His fingertips trail against your sex, checking to see whether you're as aroused as you sound and he's almost surprised to find you are.

"God, you're so wet. I'm going to make this pretty little pussy gush for me." He slips a thick finger into you, followed by a second and he's thrilled to realise you'll be able to take him already. He can take the edge off for you now and then take his sweet time licking his own load out of your fluttering cunt once he's given you what you need.

"Please." You whimper, noticing he's offered you nothing awfully useful. He hasn't curled his fingers to stroke your walls, he hasn't moved at all actually.

"I wanted to take my time with you." Bucky begins, removing his fingers and taking off his pyjama bottoms. "But that's not what you want right now, is it?"

You shake your head, giving in to your own desperation freely, knowing he'd want you to be honest.

"That's okay, sweetheart. Let's take good care of you." The residual heat of the fire warms your bare skin as Bucky arranges your thighs, settling himself between your legs.

"Good girl." Bucky hums, dragging his thick, bare cock through the evidence of your arousal, coating himself in the slick mess between your legs. "So pretty for me."

He watches the way your body accommodates him so willingly and your whines remind him not to keep you waiting.

His thick, leaking tip presses to your entrance and the feeling of him sliding into you is breathtaking. It always is.

Both of you stop breathing for a few short seconds until he's slid the whole way home, buried as deep inside you as your bodies will allow.

"Hey, look at me." Bucky whispers, holding the side of your face gently with one hand, making you realise you'd closed your eyes.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" He begins to pull back slowly before pressing back in, setting a slow rhythm.

If feels wrong not to tell him the same. It's wrong not to tell him how wonderful you think he is. It's not fair to let the moment pass without mentioning that you love getting to do this with him and be vulnerable but still feel safe. You love having him in your space and spending time together and getting to enjoy these tender, intimate moments at the most random of times. But those aren't thoughts for now. Those are thoughts for when you're both fully satisfied and cuddling together, breathless and tired and entirely aglow on this same carpet later this evening.

That feels right.

"You are the most incredible man I've ever met." You reply instead, tugging gently on his soft, dark hair to pull him into a kiss.

You hear him groan against your lips, offering the same intensity as before. He speeds up his thrusts to match his mouth, sliding in and out of you with purpose and a delightful need to spill his release into you as he's coaxing yours from you.

"Play with yourself." His instruction is clear and driven by his own need. He needs to feel you cum before he can allow himself to do the same and his orgasm really seems to have snuck up on him.

Your hand slips between your bodies with a practiced ease, finding the little bundle of nerves between your legs, rubbing it in tight circles.

"Good girl. Fuck, I wish you knew how you feel. So wet and soft and warm." He hasn't taken his eyes off your face and that only lets you see how pleasure is evident all over his. He's almost overwhelmed and it's so lovely to watch.

"Fuck, I'm so close." You whine, begging him not to change a single thing. Not his pace, not his angle, nothing. This is perfect.

"Cum for me, sweetheart. Go ahead, I'm right behind you. I've got you."

The release is all consuming for a good few seconds, your body fluttering and twitching, milking Bucky's from him and he so willingly gives it to you. He groans gentle praises as he works both of you through your highs, taking every ounce of pleasure he can get from you while giving you as much as possible.

When your peak and his have both subsided, he slips out of you, giving himself a second to catch his breath.

"If you weren't on the Naughty List before, you definitely are now." You giggle, kissing his forehead repeatedly.

"I'm just getting started." He smiles, kissing your lips before moving down your body to kiss between your thighs.

#Bucky Barnes x reader smut #Bucky Barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #becca writes spice #Olaf's Frozen Adventure is a top tier Christmas movie and I will hear NO SLANDER #We weren't allowed to watch Christmas movies growing up #so I might watch the Grinch for the first time tonight #I sat for hours last night and did a lovely set of Christmas nails #with little handpainted intricate snowflakes #and I'll have to take the nails off on Wednesday morning to go work in the coffee shop :(#I did ask Santa for a stand mixer so cross your fingers for me

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lovebugism · 2 years ago

Note

Hi bug, could I request some teasing modern office stevie when he definitely should be concentrating on some important reports and not the pictures you’re sending him from the bathroom 💖

ty for requesting :D — steve is grumpy at the office halloween party until you spend him naughty pictures from the bathroom (modern!au, established relationship, smut 18+, 1.6k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

The company-wide Halloween party was a total bust.

Steve’s Top Gun leather jacket was cool and all, but now — eight hours into his shift — it feels slightly suffocating. It’s heavy and making him almost unbearably hot, but he can’t take it off, or his dad will lose his shit.

Everyone had to dress up. That was the memo. It’s to boost company morale or whatever bullshit they’re spinning these days. Even the stuffy guys on the fiftieth floor are wearing their own fancy, half-assed costumes.

Steve wasn’t much of a fan of the whole thing, especially not after he offered to match with you and you completely shut him down. “My dad already knows about us, babe!” he whined. “It’s not a big deal!”

You shot him your hardened, badass businesswoman stare that always seems to stop him in his tracks. “Your dad knowing isn’t even the half of it, Steve. I don’t want us to be the headline for office gossip for the next six months, alright?”

Going into his nine-to-five the day before Halloween, the only thing he was remotely excited about was seeing your costume. You rock a pencil skirt and blouse like you were made to do it, but fuck, he loves seeing you out of your work clothes.

And you were really fucking cute — Uma Thurman from Pulp Fiction, in one of his white button-ups, black slacks, and high heels. It isn’t overtly sexy, because it is an office party after all, but he’d stare at you all day if he could.

Screw the work, he wants to lay on the couch in your office and watch you in your element with his hand shoved down his pants.

His phone buzzes sharply beside him, knocking him out of his daydream. It’s a text notification from you — one image attachment, it reads. He’s already smiling like a teenage boy now that you’re talking to him. He’s been lonely all day without you.

He taps the message with his thumb to open the text thread, even happier to find that it’s a picture of you.

You look like you’re in a bathroom stall — for privacy maybe, because you’re flashing him your lacy lingerie. Your blouse is unbuttoned at the top to reveal your black bra that’s mostly see-through. It’s a cup size or more too small for you, so the tops of your breasts spill slightly from the fabric.

Don’t do this to me, he replies.

Do what? you ask.

Another picture comes right after. It’s from a higher-up angle, a much better view of your cleavage. You’re staring up at the camera with doe eyes that drive him crazy.

Steve shifts in his swivel chair, spine-tingling distantly with the subtle stiffening of his cock. He looks over both shoulders, just to make sure no one’s around to see the filth on his phone, then texts you back.

You know what, he types. Don’t start something you can’t finish.

You send him a third picture, smiling all innocent at the camera. Captioned beneath it reads, I don’t think I’m the one who needs to worry about finishing, Stevie.

Steve doesn’t bother replying this time. He clicks his phone off and readjusts his pants, rising from his desk and heading straight for the elevator.

—————

Standing at the row of pristine sinks, you wait for Steve’s response.

You knew he wasn’t having the greatest day. His dad’s been on his ass more than usual and you’re not the best at comforting him when you’re in work mode. So you step out of your comfort zone in attempts to cheer up your boyfriend, actively trying to be sexy.

But then he just leaves you on read, and now you’re spiraling in the women’s restroom.

What if he didn’t like it? your brain berates you. What if he thinks you’re trying too hard? What if he’s turned off by you?

You don’t get the chance to get embarrassed about it because Steve’s busting through the bathroom door a second later. You’re scared by the sudden intrusion, then halfway relieved, then utterly shocked.

“Steve— what are you doing in here? This is the women’s restroom!”

“Obviously,” the boy scoffs and locks the door behind him.

Your eyes are wide and wild when he turns back to face you. “What the hell are you doing?” you repeat, teeth gritted as you try your best to whisper.

His eyes sparkle with something honeyed and mischievous. He shrugs all boyish and corners you against the marble countertop. “Told you not to start something you couldn’t finish, remember?”

His palms spread wide and warm on your waist as he leans down to kiss you. You’re almost lost in him enough to let him. The logical part of your brain blares an alarm in your subconcious, and you hold him back before he can inch any further.

“No. Nope. We’re not doing this,” you announce with a shake of your head, to yourself more than anything.

Steve’s brows pinch. “Why not?”

You blink up at him for a moment, bemused by his confusion because the answer’s pretty obvious. “‘Cause we’re at work, Steven. That’s why.”

He always melts for you when you call him that.

“You’re hot when you’re mean, you know that?” he murmurs with a lopsided grin.

He ducks down again, and you think he’s gonna kiss you. You’re about to fight him until his plush lips lock on your pulse point. You cave before you mean to, turning to marshmallow fluff in his hands.

Steve maneuvers you onto the counter with a pair of strong hands. When he plants himself between your legs, his hard cock brushes your inner thigh. You have to remind yourself to breathe.

With a tongue tasting of nicotine and the chocolate-covered pretzels you made for the Halloween party, Steve kisses the air from your lungs. You’re happy without it. As long as it means he’ll keep touching you like he is now.

His fingers fuss with the buttons of your shirt. He tries to kiss you and unclasp them at the same time, but realizes it’s halfway impossible. You feel each one pop pop pop when he all but rips at your collar.

“Hey— be gentle,” you scold, slurring slightly when you part from him. “I gotta work after this, you know?”

“Yeah, if I don’t take you home first.” His words are mumbled and nearly inaudible. You barely catch the last half of them because he’s burying his face in your chest.

It’s nothing you’re not used to — he often jokes that your tits are his two favorite girls, a close second to you.

You weave your hands through his chopped cinnamon hair, keeping him pressed against you while he kisses and sucks at your breasts — over the sheer fabric of the lingerie you chose specifically for him. His tongue runs warm and wet over your clothed nipple. You fight back a shiver.

Drunk on him and his tender touches, you let him open you up with his fingers without any fuss. You let him push you to the brink of a spine-tingling orgasm and back again — only fussing a little about his teasing until he slips his cock into you.

Steve doesn’t mean to fuck you so gently in the work bathroom, but it’s in his nature to be soft with you.

Even during quickies, he’s all but making love to you. He holds your lolling head in both his calloused palms, making sure your eyes stay on his while he punches into you. You’re pretty good at keeping your moans at bay, aside from a few measly whines he swallows when he kisses you.

You compensate for your withheld noises by digging your nails into his shoulders. You’re pretty sure there’ll be crescent shapes in the leather of his jacket when he’s done with you.

The bathroom fills with the sounds of heavy pants, concealed moans, and the jingling of Steve’s belt buckle. He babbles sweet nothings into your neck, words slurred and muffled there. You’re not even sure he knows what he’s saying.

“It’s so good. You’re so fucking good— fuck, fuck, fuck,” he rambles, chopped through thrusts and heavy breaths. “Can’t fucking wait to show you off, you know that? Wanna tell everyone you’re mine.”

“I am yours,” you tell him, breathless and with a whimper trapped in your throat. His cock pierces you mercilessly. The pressure on your clit is relentless. “Always been yours.”

And if he wasn’t about to burst already — you tell him this, and he’s a fucking goner. His hips stutter almost instantly. His whine swells in the bathroom, mostly muffled into your neck. He spits several loads of warm cum into you and sends you absolutely gushing.

And like the gentlemen he is, he fucks you stupid and cleans you up right after.

He chucks the wet paper towel in the bin and asks you, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” you repeat, legs still hanging over the counter, tingling with numbness.

“When you— you know, when you said you were mine?”

You shrug with an air of absentmindedness. “Of course.”

“I just… We never made anything official, and I didn’t know if… I don’t know— if you were seeing someone else or whatever.”

“Your dad knows we’re fucking, so I think we’re pretty much official now,” you tease, giggling and sliding your panties back into place. You hop off the counter to put your slacks back on. Steve fusses with his belt.

“Guess so,” he laughs back.

“And I don’t plan on seeing anyone else for the foreseeable future,” you confess, smiling shyly and tilting your head to your shoulder. “Just so you know.”

Steve’s suddenly smiling, crooked and boyish and pink. “Good. ‘Cause I don’t either.”

“Good,” you hum with a similar grin.

“Good.”

He kisses you again — ‘cause he can do that now, considering you’re finally official and everything. It’s a too sweet peck compared to how sinfully he was fucking you just minutes ago.

He pulls back from you with furrowed brows. “Does that mean we can tell people about—”

“Absolutely not, Steve Harrington.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

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the-fiction-witch · 8 months ago

Text

Mrs Dawkins P45-49

Media - The Artful Dodger (Mrs Dawkins Series) Character - Jack Dawkins Couple - Jack X Reader Reader - Y/n Everset Rating - 15 P1 - P5 P6-P10 P11-13 P14-17 P18-22 P23-27 P28- 31 P32-P36 P37-P39 P40-44 MasterList

After breakfast, I nervously pulled the draw from my bedside table, and poured it onto the bed the mess of papers scattering ontop of the sheets.

He smirked a little at me before he egarly dug through the pile, "Awww you kept all my notes and letters?" He cooed,

"Maybe…" I blushed,

"Awww you are so cute," He cooed, "You didn't have to keep them you know,"

"I want to!" I protested,

He chuckled, "Alright you keep them all, maybe on our anniversaries we can go through them together and remember how in love we were,"

"Aww that sounds nice," I giggled laying my head on his shoulder,

"And I'll make sure you have some extra ones by then," he cooed kissing my forehead, "Oooohh found it!" He smirked as he grabbed my drawing,

I buried my face into his neck trying to hide but also watching his face,

"Humm… very good anatomy, you made me very handsome, a little… low on the drawing, a little naughty darling," He smirked rubbing his nose on my head, "But I can't be mad at you for that,"

"You're not mad at me?"

"No, how could I be mad at my lovely lady drawing me so handsome," he smiled, "There are a few issues but you hadn't seen so I'll allow it,"

"I could do another now I know…" I blushed,

"I would love you to draw me, darling,"

"You would?"

"Of course I would,"

"Well, maybe next sleepover,"

"Next sleepover," he nodded giving my lips a soft kiss, "I promise,"

We looked through things but slowly packed them away into the draw, he gathered up his stuff and made sure to dress and get ready to head back to the hospital,

"I need to get going, as much as I don't want to leave we need to." he sighed taking my hands softly, "I don't want your father to find me and get us in trouble,"

"I know… I just wish you could stay forever," I rubbed my nose on his,

"I know, I want to stay. But I won't be able to visit if we get in trouble," he cooed, "But I'll be back I promise," He smiled,

"Will you come visit again?"

"Of course I will, I will visit as soon as I can,"

"I'll miss you,"

"I'll miss you too," He cooed, "But soon we won't have to miss each other," he stroked my cheek, "When we get married," he connected our lips softly,

"I shall count the hours,"

"As will I," he cooed, "I love you endlessly my darling,"

"I love you too Jack,"

"Don't miss me too hard okay?"

"I'll try," I blushed, "Don't miss me too hard…"

"Impossible," he cooed,

We shared another sweet kiss before he went to my balcony, and climbed down the tree. I leaned over and blew him a kiss waving sweetly, "Love you,"

"Love you too," he happily blew me a kiss back before he headed back to the hospital.

I hurried myself down the creaky wooden stairs, the sound of my giggles echoing through the empty house. Skipping down the dimly lit halls, the morning sunlight streaming through the windows brought out the widest smile on my face. As I scurried inside the dining room, the aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee filled the air. There, at the end of the table, sat my father, his head resting on one hand, nursing his hangover from last night with a hearty breakfast.

"Hello, daddy!" I smiled as I ran over and gave him a hug so tight it almost knocked him off his chair,

"Hello..." He raised an eyebrow at me a little, "You seem cheerful this morning,"

"I am cheerful," I giggled as I pulled back and went to the other end of the table but before I reached my seat Miss Hardcastle arrived so I took her hands and gave her a spin, "Good morning!"

"...Morning Miss Everset," she said forcing me away,

I giggled and took a seat in my chair waiting for breakfast resting my elbows on the table and kicking my feet,

"Is she alright?" My father whispered,

Miss Hardcastle just shrugged like she didn't know,

"You alright Y/n?" he asked very seriously,

"I'm perfectly fine father. I'm just happy!"

"Right," He nodded suspiciously as he ate breakfast,

Soon my own arrived so I hugged the maid and looked at my breakfast only to pout at the smaller portion than usual, but still I happily ate humming happily to myself,

"Did she have a temperature or anything this morning?" My father whispered to Miss Hardcastle,

"No sir." She answered,

"Hum... she ate anything odd or new last night?"

I giggled trying to hold back my smile, well I certainly was swallowing something new last night,

"Not that I know of sir," she answered,

"Humm..." He pondered, "Perhaps we need to send word and get the doctor to visit."

"Yes!" I jumped up from my seat bouncing with excitement, "I need to see the doctor!"

"What do you think?" he asked Miss Hardcastle,

"...perhaps having the doctor come visit might not be the best idea," Miss Hardcastle answered,

I tried to hide my disappointment slumping back into my chair,

"But. I think she does need a doctor, I'll take her to the hospital myself."

"Yippie!" I giggled hitching my dress and bolting up to my room to get ready, "Let's go already!" I yelled,

I sweetly hummed a tune as I slowly ran the brush through my long, flowing hair, carefully untangling any knots. My thoughts were filled with the upcoming visit to the hospital to see Jack. I wanted to look my best, so I chose my favourite soft, blue gown and delicately added a matching bow to my hair, creating a sweet and charming look. As I made my final adjustments, the sound of the door opening caught my attention. Miss Hardcastle entered the room, and I greeted her with a warm and friendly smile, eager to show kindness to the visitor.

"Good morning! Come to take me away?" I asked, "I must go and visit the hospital, for I am on death's door I need a doctor so desperately!" I fainted falling back dramatically onto my sofa,

"You need something," Miss Hardcastle glared, "Not sure it's a doctor,"

"Is it time to go?" I cooed,

"No…"

"No?"

"A carriage has arrived,"

"Perfect then we can go," I smiled bolting up from my sofa,

"No… it's not our carriage."

"…Then who's carriage is it?"

The two shared a look a conversation of a thousand words passing between them both within mere seconds,

"No."

"Yes."

"No…"

"Yes."

"…No…"

"Unfortunately, yes,"

"It can't be."

"It is."

"How-"

"You're father sent word,"

"About?"

"about your courtship… and I has arrived."

"Oh no…" I sighed, "May god have mercy on us all," I said,

"Shall I inform her you'll meet with her?"

"… Do I have a choice?"

"Not really."

"Then yes." I sighed,

Miss Hardcastle nodded in acknowledgement and slowly exited the room, her footsteps fading away in the distance.

I couldn't contain my frustration and let out a groan before throwing myself onto my bed. I buried my head into the pillow, the lingering scent of Jack's presence providing a small comfort in the midst of my exasperation. "Curses… Aunt Lisbeth."

I stood between my father and Miss Hardcastle, rage boiling inside my held back only by my bottom lip between my teeth. I looked to the road and pondered just bolting, abandoning it all and running to Jack at the hospital. But I knew it wouldn't be any use.

The carriage pulled into the front of the house stopping with a short jolt.

All held their breath as the door opened, and there she was.

Aunt Lisbeth was a remarkable sight to behold. She stood tall with an imposing figure, broad shoulders, and a long hooked nose that exuded an air of authority. Her lips were tightly pursed, giving the impression that she was in a perpetual state of disapproval. Her elegantly placed black curls, expertly dyed to conceal any signs of greying, were artfully arranged in a large black hat with a striking white ribbon.

Her attire was equally impressive. She wore a tightly laced corset that accentuated her already slender figure, creating the illusion that one could easily encircle her waist with a single hand. Her long black gown was a work of art, adorned with intricate pearls and delicate embroidery.

Aunt Lisbeth's choice of jewellery was equally exquisite. Every piece was crafted from mother of pearl, with large and impressive pearls set in silver. In one hand, she carried a black lace parasol adorned with pearls, which she used not only for shade but also as a stylish and practical walking stick, complete with a handle made of mother of pearl. In her other hand, she held a matching fan, secured around her wrist, with each blade featuring a grip of mother of pearl.

"Lisbeth," my's father smiled trying to pull her into a hug,

But with a flick of her wrist, she drew her fan across her face between them, "Do not touch me, Eric." She said not needing to bark or even raise her tone just her firmness enough, "Save us all from your scent and save my cleaners the work."

"Of course." He nodded,

"Delight me, with why I am the last to know of my niece's engagement." she closed her fan looking down her nose at him,

"She is not engaged, she is courting."

"Which I should hope still means the same thing." she replied, "One does not court not to engage. Courting is a formality. And at the age of your daughter it is a formality you cannot afford." She said, "Nevertheless. Why?" she almost whistled the W as she said it,

"You were sent about her debutant Ball,"

"I was indeed."

"The young man made himself known then, the rest has simply been pleasantries."

"Well then, reveal her. Or is she so frightened by the king's English that spills from my lips she hides below her piano once more?"

"I am here Aunt Lisbeth," I spoke up begrudgingly bringing herself closer,

"Ahh. I forgive me, I feared he'd married a maid." She snapped, "Let me look at you." She demanded,

I moved to the centre of her view and held my hands behind my back,

Lisbeth looked me up and down several times, making sure to be slow and meticulous about how she looked at me, "Hum…" She scoffed, "You are thinner than last I visited."

"Yes, Aunt Lisbeth,"

"…It is progress I suppose." she rolled her eyes, "The face is better. As it is the hair." she said, "Come we must take tea."

Without saying another word, Lisbeth, her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed in determination, marched into the study. The room was dimly lit by the warm glow of the fire, casting dancing shadows on the walls. As she entered, the servants, dressed in their crisp uniforms, bowed and offered her every seat in the room, from the plush armchairs by the fire to the antique chairs by the window. Lisbeth, her gaze sweeping across the room, declined each one with a curt shake of her head.

Finally, she stopped in front of the first seat offered, a high-backed armchair positioned beside the crackling fire and overlooking the snow-covered garden outside. With a decisive nod, she settled into the chair, her eyes fixed on the flickering flames.

The staff, attentive and poised, approached her with a silver tray, adorned with delicate china teacups and a steaming teapot. "Would you care for some tea, madam?" the butler inquired, his voice as smooth as silk.

Lisbeth, her gaze still fixed on the fire, initially declined the offer with a polite wave of her hand. However, as the maid moved to serve the other guests, a sudden change came over her. With a sharp, commanding tone, she called out across the room, "I'll take tea. Now" The staff, accustomed to her swift changes in demeanour, quickly adjusted, pouring a steaming cup of tea and delivering it to her side. "So, Neice of mine."

"Yes, Aunt Lisbeth?" I asked doing my best not to slouch,

"This… gentlemen?"

"Yes, Aunt Lisbeth?"

"He comes with a name I assume?" she asked, "Most men do, many of them are utterly irrelevant not like they ever do much with them besides stamp it on everything they can like a puppy pissing on all it see's,"

"Yes, he has a name," I slightly blushed trying not to chuckle,

"Well? Am I to be graced with it or is it an ever-going mystery?"

"Doctor Jack Dawkins," I smiled proudly,

"Doctor?" she perked up suddenly more interested in the conversation beyond the mere plenties of it, "My, my."

"Doctor Dawkins is the surgeon at the Hospital."

"A surgeon. Now I do say that's an awful lot better than I expected." she sipped her tea, "I had fears you'd desire to run amok with a penniless panhandler, some brutish blacksmith or a horrid haberdasher boy." she explained,

"Didn't you marry a tailor?" My father spoke up,

"Do not be sharp with me Eric." She snapped back, "So? Tell me of the courtship?"

"Well, he and I first met after I had an accident in town. Bruised my hand fairly badly so my father took me to the hospital, and Doctor Dawkins treated me. We conversed socially a few times after that and we invited him to my ball. Luck we did, I ended up having a terrible bout of breathlessness and by the grace of god, he was there to aid me. He made his intentions very clear to Father and at a dinner sometime later he asked to enter our courtship." I explained, "We have followed of course all social rules and have been spending time in our courtship chaperoned by Miss Hardcastle." I smiled doing my best to hide my lies as I couldn't really admit everything else me and Jack had already done,

"Good, good." Lisbeth nodded, "He seems a proper gentleman."

I tried to hide my blush,

"it does bring me some peace for fiscal security." she said, "Tell me, how much shall you expect for the household once wed?"

"Ohh uh… Ja- Doctor Dawkins, doesn't make very much money." I admitted,

"Hum…" she scoffed, "I see. Well, I suppose it is a boundary of the industry, but once he is head surgeon of his hospital all will be well,"

"He isn't-"

"He will be. You will make him. It is a wife's duty to make her husband see reason and presume what is best for him. Regardless of his own selfish ambition." She explained, "He will make you a wife of a head surgeon or you will not make him a father of children it is a simple pact, he will do as told and see reason as all men do once deprived of the marital bliss between your legs."

I tried not to gasp,

"Y/n. I will not have my niece be penniless." She warned, "I would call off this courtship than allow you to wed some penniless surgeon doomed to fall into his bottle after each day of work."

"Yes Aunt Lisbeth," I nodded,

"Good. Now, Summon this surgeon I wish to inspect him for my niece."

"Well as it happened Y/n wasn't feeling well this morning, she and Miss Hardcastle were to take her to the hospital this afternoon." My father spoke up clearly trying to get Lisbeth away from him and the house for a while,

"Splendid. We shall go at once." Lisbeth demanded with a loud stomp of her parasol on the floor,

As I sat in the carriage, my mind raced with thoughts. I couldn’t shake the urgency of my situation. He needed a warning—no, more than a warning; he needed to be prepared for what lay ahead. The idea of her descending upon him, ready to tear him apart, sent a shiver down my spine.

If I hesitated any longer, it would be as if I were pushing him into turbulent waters, leaving him to flounder and fight his way back to safety on his own. The metaphor felt all too real, as if I might as well be tossing him into the ocean, hoping he could somehow swim to safety.

With my heart pounding in my chest, I found myself absentmindedly picking at my nail. The plush cushioning of the couch beneath me did little to ease my anxiety. It was time to gather my thoughts and muster all the courage I could find, for the weight of my decision felt monumental. I knew I had to speak up; it was now or never.

"Aunt Lisbeth?"

"Yes Y/n?"

"I was just thinking-"

"Do not share your thoughts dear." She said, "It cheapens you and bores me."

"Yes but, Well Ja- Doctor Dawkins, he may be in surgery when we arrive."

"Hum…" She scoffed, "That is true, and I do so hate waiting." she sneered, "Y/n, be a good girl and hop out the carriage we'll take a scenic ride around the town whilst you unsure his availability."

"Yes. of course Aunt Lisbeth."

"Good."

I nodded in acknowledgment, allowing a gentle smile to grace my lips as I bid her goodbye. As the carriage gradually came to a halt, I gracefully stepped out onto the cool, stone steps of the hospital, carefully smoothing out the fabric of my dress to erase any wrinkles.

Once the carriage was completely out of sight, awave of urgency washed over me. I hitched up the hem of my dress, my heart racing with anticipation, and dashed inside the hospital. The grand entrance opened up to a bustling corridor, but I was singularly focused on reaching the theatre. As I hurried down the hallway, I caught sight of a tall, slippery-looking man standing in the shadows of the operating theatre entrance,

"Women are not allowed in here madam." he snapped at me,

"Excuse me." I snapped back, "Where is Doctor Dawkins?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"Just tell me. Please."

"Doctor Dawkins is busy."

"I'm well aware. But where is he busy?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Ugh- His fiance?"

His tone immediately shifted and a smirk grew across his face, "So your Y/n?"

"Jack. Is. Where?" I glared,

"Down in the morgue, but that's no place for a lovely lady. You're more than welcome to stay up here far from the stains and smells Dawkin's so like's to linger in,"

"No thank you." I snapped back before hurrying down to the morgue as fast as I could.

Luckily he was indeed in the morgue, looming over a body with his leather apron around him, hands coated in blood, working away on a body.

Even given the situation I couldn't hold back a soft smile,

Jack absentmindedly glanced up and did a double take as he saw me standing in the doorway, "Darling!" he said with a bright smile, "What are you doing here?!" He asked his tone full of excitement as he cleaned off his hands quickly,

"I am sorry, I didn't want to just drop in and-" I began as I went over, but before I could even finish what I said he wrapped his arms around my waist and softly kissed my lips, Of course, I happily kissed back trailing my hands up his arms as we shared tender kisses,

"Humm, why wouldn't I be happy to see you?" he cooed,

"I am… really sorry Jack-" I began but once again he interrupted me,

"No need to be sorry darling, it's a lovely little surprise." he smiled, "the best actually. My lovely lady coming to visit me while I'm working." He peppered my face with little kisses as he spoke, "Should I get used to this? My Darling Y/n coming to visit me at work, for some cuddles and kisses, maybe you can start bringing me a nice homecooked lunch too."

"Hey!" I laughed,

"I would not complain if you did, I am really hungry I would actually be thrilled." He chuckled,

so I slightly glared,

"And cause I'd get to see my darling wife."

"Better." I chuckled,

"So? Why is my darling here to see me then? you're not hurt are you?!"

"No. no, I'm fine Jack."

"Good, you had me worried." He smiled pulling us a little closer together, "Have you just come because you missed me?"

"well of course I missed you-"

"Hummm not half as much as I've missed you," he smirked tugging us even closer and squeezing my body against his peppering kisses down my jaw and neck,

"Jack." I complained pushing him away and keeping him at arm's length, "Focus." I told him, "We have a problem. A big problem."

"Oh?" He asked, "I can think of 'A' big problem you might be coming to urgently visit me for." He nodded, "But I promise you darling, it is not possible for you to be pregnant" He reassured taking my hands softly and giving my knuckles kisses, "Well I mean… technically it's loosely possible but it would be impossible to know yet."

"…Jack that doesn't give the calming effect you think that it does." I told him, "But no something far worse." I said as I took my hands away and helped him out of his apron and cleaned him up as much as I could,

"Whoa! Hello darling!" He smirked getting excited, "You want my clothes off so badly you only have to ask me."

"Will you stop thinking about your dick for five minutes?" I chuckled,

"…we're courting." He scoffed, "We both know I can't."

"We have a very very big problem. and I am… so so so sorry for what's going to happen." I told him,

"Y/n? What's going on?"

I sighed and took his hands tightly giving his lips a tender kiss, "It's time you meet aunt Lisbeth."

"…Who's aunt Lisbeth?"

#jack #jackdawkins #jack imagines #jack dawkins #tbs #thomas brodie sangster #thomas sangster #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas sangster imagine #tbs imagines #tbs smut #jack dawkins x reader #the artful dodger jack dawkins #the artful dodger #theartfuldogger #thearttfuldodger

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nihildenial · 1 year ago

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"Fifty Shades of Pink" a Papa Emeritus III x Omega fic

SMUT UNDER CUT

one chapter ; wc: 6,586

There wasn’t much that could surprise Omega anymore. He’s been topside for about six years now, served as rhythm guitarist for three Papas, and performed countless ritual performances.

This, however, was something new.

“Isn’t it perfecto ?” The short man in front of him throws his arms wide and does a slow spin.

Omega simply blinks his lavender eyes and tries his best to think of a way to put what he’s thinking into nice-enough words. Why the hell did he agree to go to the cobbler to pick up the Terzo’s loafers and leave his kin with the man? “It’s…tailored nicely.”

Terzo Emeritus, Papa Emeritus III, a forty-three year old, pouts like an affronted child. He turns back to the large floor length mirror and takes in his appearance from the tailors’ platform. “I think I look like I belong in one of those fancy Ivy League college fraternities! Alpha told me pink was my color. Imagine a beer in my hand.”

Omega should fuck him in this cove more often.

“You took advice from Alpha? The Ghoul who still puts on different colored socks because he’s too lazy to find a pair from his dresser?”

The raven-haired man huffs, “You were too busy with Francesco! Maybe if you weren’t such a bossy-pants, you would have been here. I think I’ll keep it like this just to show you that I do look handsome.”

Omega sets down the several pairs of ties and socks on the vacant chair next to the platform. Of course his kin would disappear when someone had to tell Terzo he looked like a bottle of pepto-bismol. “I didn’t say you weren’t handsome. It’s tailored well to your figure. The color on the other hand…”

“Pink is the new black! Slimming for the masculine shape, and feminine to complement the olive tone of my sun-kissed Italian tan.”

The large Quintessence Ghoul sighs, “Just humor me and try the gold that we originally agreed on.”

“No!” Terzo steps off the platform, losing the extra inches of height. “I like this. We’re going to check out and go back to the Ministry.”

“You look like a child dressed for church.” He could pick the small man up with one hand and shake him like a naughty toddler.

Terzo flips a loose bang out of his eyes, “I’ll let you be the first to take it off me.”

Omega holds back a grumble, “What is the horrible pink shirt for anyway? You’re still getting the white suit, right?”

“Of course, I’m getting the white suit! This is for a new music video; Sister Imperator finally said the budget was thick enough to shoot it,” His fingers make sure the Grucifix cufflinks are facing the same direction, leading Omega and his purchases to the Ralph Lauren counter.

“Mr. Emeritus, I see the tailor was able to make those adjustments for you.” The woman flashes a polite smile.

Omega sees it falter a bit as he feels his four kin reappear at his side. Of course, Alpha has damn pink socks. “We are not getting pink socks too.”

Alpha puts the offending socks on top of Omega’s well-chosen accessories. “He looks good in pink.”

“I’m buying the damn socks, Omega,” Terzo affirms and lets the woman take all the items to begin scanning.

Omega could be petty and not hand over the Ministry credit card, but Terzo strikes him with a look that promises a reward for being good. “Fine,” He grumbles and nudges Alpha out of the way so he can sign the receipt. The woman hands back the large items in several bags and the five glamoured hellbeasts follow their leader out onto the busy 5th Avenue streets. Glamouring all of them, they walk undisturbed down the block to where a sleek SUV idles.

“That’s what you spent all that time getting fitted for?” Is the first thing out of Sister Imperator’s mouth when they all pile into the car. A bag of clothing for some of the Sisters of Sin sits by her feet in the passenger seat.

Omega sits directly behind her, letting her take in Terzo in the driver side middle seat. “I said the same thing.”

“We like it, Papa,” Pebble chirps from the third row, “All of us back here do.”

Alpha and Mist nod.

All eyes turn to Zephyr, who is unfortunately stuck sitting between Omega and Terzo. “I mean…Papa can make anything look fetching.”

Terzo claps a hand on the air Ghoul’s shoulder, “Majority rules! Now, let us get back to the Abbey so I can make sure the equipment is ready for shooting tomorrow.”

Sister Imperator pinches the bridge of her nose, but nods for the Brother of Blasphemy to go ahead and drive away.

“I made sure we got the white suit, at least,” Omega watches the bustling city slowly crawl past them in traffic.

“I knew I could count on you, Omega,” She says, reaching back and patting the Ghoul’s knee.

—

For the music video of He Is , the Ghouls weren’t needed as actors or instrumentalists, so Terzo gave them all the day off–except for Omega.

“Your punishment for yesterday is that you get to spend the day with us as we shoot.” It’s like four in the morning so they could get the shots down at the river around mid afternoon.

He wants to whine like a Ghoul kit. “They’re going hunting! Deer season just began!”

“Maybe I’ll take pity on you after the lunch break,” Terzo chides with a wink, “Now sit in your chair and be good for Papa. You can be my waterboy.”

Omega would do most anything for him. Sitting and zoning out while his beautiful Papa twirls his dramatic ass around a sound stage may sound like a relaxing afternoon, but his kin are out frolicking among the large forest and hunting.

Terzo stands on his tip-toes to presumably kiss Omega, but the antipope simply smacks his lips a hair’s breadth away and bounds out of the Ghoul’s arms.

That motherfucker, Omega sits back in the shitty makeup-chair with a huff.

Sister Rebecca raises a beauty blender. Her brown eyes are bright as she’s nearly bouncing in place/ “Could I try something on you? I got a new, thinner foundation to use for you and the Ghouls in an upcoming photoshoot.”

He sees how hopeful she is. She wasn’t chosen by Sister Imperator to be in the music video because of her skills at makeup. Both of them were stuck watching this anyway.

Omega reaches up and undoes his mask. “Knock yourself out. Don’t be offended if I fall asleep.”

“I also have some head massage techniques I could try out…?” She grins.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

A few hours pass with Omega submitting to anything Sister Rebecca wanted.

The new foundation she got did make his hell-soot colored skin more luminous, and flattened some pores that he’s been a bit self-conscious of. She smudged some eyeliner here, a small dusting of brightening powder on his eyelids, and something moisturizing that tastes like cherries on his lips.

Omega can’t help the happy rumble when her manicured hands reward him with a truly sinful scalp massage. Thankfully it isn’t loud enough to disrupt the filming across the room, but Sister Imperator does shoot them a glare that sobers both of them up enough to stop.

“That’s a wrap!” Comes the director’s call.

“This was really helpful, Omega, thank you.” The sister begins to put away most of the new makeup. She leaves out Terzo’s papal paint in case he needs to reapply during any of the recording.

He looks at himself in the mirror, “I feel good in this. Much better than the grease paint of the last tour.”

She huffs a laugh, “Yeah, that stuff was disgusting to work with and have on. Here’s some wipes to take it off.”

Omega takes in the nearly flawless quality of his charcoal skin, “Actually, I might keep it on for a bit. See how it wears.”

“Of course, I’ll leave those here,” She rolls the makeup suitcase with her as she follows the production crew towards the Abbey sanctuary.

In the mirror he can see the reflection of Terzo talking to the two young children that were in the video. Their father was an archbishop from the Salem Ministry, and was one of the only clergy members with young enough twin children.

Terzo was always so great with people. It breaks Omega’s heart that he and his kin hold the man’s love and there’s little chance for mini-Terzos to come into being.

“ Grazie, miei dolci bambini ,” The antipope pats their heads, eliciting delighted laughs as the boy and girl toddle over to their watchful father and mother. He struts to Omega, taking a long swig from the water bottle Omega was tasked with keeping. “Wasn’t I absolutely sinful?”

The Quintessence Ghoul inclines his head, “There’s hardly been a time when you’re not. It was good to see those kids so happy.”

“ Sono una famiglia adorabile , quite the lovely little family, no?” Terzo smiles. He steps forward to peer around Omega’s back.

“What do you think? I let Sister Rebecca experiment with some new shit,” He turns fully to face the antipope. He relishes the shocked flush that crawls through the cracks of Terzo’s papal paint.

For once the man is rendered speechless. His mouth opens and closes like one of the fish Pebble caught the other day in the Abbey lake. “I…”

Omega sees his chance to get some payback, “I think I should let her do this more often, yes?” He makes sure most of the room has cleared (mostly just making sure Imperator is gone) and uses his larger form to back Terzo against the vanity counter. He lets his hands rest on those beautifully familiar and full hips and leans down.

Terzo takes the bait and sighs happily into their shared breath–except Omega smacks his lips together and pulls back before their lips could meet. “It’s a shame, really. My lip balm is cherry-flavored."

The shorter man’s mismatched green and white eyes fly open in betrayal, “You motherfucker!”

Omega folds up the vanity chair and saunters to the doorway, “I might take pity on you after lunch.” He grins at the imaginary lasers shooting him in the back.

—

Terzo and Omega have always been this way. One of them does something immature to the other, then other retaliates, then they make up by the fucking the absolute shit out of each other. It’s very much a game of cat and mouse or freeze-tag, making the four other Ghouls roll their eyes when an argument inevitably happens.

Terzo’s a little shit.

Omega’s a little shit in the form of a 6 ft 7 Quintessence Ghoul.

Nothing is better than the angry-eventually-loving makeup sex. Tonight was going to be quite a treat judging by the horny mini-glares Terzo gives him between shots of the He Is sanctuary scenes. Omega sits out of the way in his vanity chair and snacks on popcorn provided on the shooting table.

After another two hours of getting footage, the director calls for lunch. They’ll resume in another hour to begin the footage down by the river.

Omega doesn’t know necessarily what they’re going to shoot down there. But he hopes Mist is ripping into the throat of a deer on the banks and ruins their shot so he and Terzo can go fuck.

Speaking of, they do have an hour before resuming…

Terzo is engulfed in a mass of followers and Siblings. He drinks their attention as if he needs it to continue existing. He flashes that sharp smile that’s all shiny, white, perfect teeth and it makes Omega’s black heart do somersaults.

He likes to think that he controls the Antipope, but Terzo is a feral hellbeast in his own way. Even if Omega holds the man facedown against the mattress more times than Terzo rides him, Omega would fold faster to the man’s orders than the other way around.

The crowd moves towards the Dining Hall across the cloister courtyard, carrying Terzo with them. He doesn’t even spare the Ghoul a glance as the group filters outside.

Omega holds back a growl. So that’s how it’s going to be.

Lunch flys by. Omega tears into a pack of beef jerky and one of Pebble’s edibles. If he got upset, then he can go fuck off. Omega’s horny as shit and being forced to be a waterboy for a frustratingly beautiful and petty man while Pebble got to sink his fangs into a tender deer flank.

By the time they resume filming at the hill that leads to the Wallkill river, Pebble’s edible has kicked in and relaxed him some. Which is good because his anger shoots back up as Terzo steps out into the mid-afternoon sun in that damned pink shirt under a white waistcoat.

He looks like a douchebag actor in an American frat movie! Paired with black aviator sunglasses, it screams the wrong kind of self-assertion. But then again, Omega hasn’t really thought about what He Is is about…and it begins to make sense as they start filming.

So, he’s been an asshole for no reason. The song is a parody of Christian baptism rock. Guilt rises in Omega’s chest. How many times has he performed this damned song and not understood what it meant?

The Quintessence Ghoul watches the group film shots of a handful of Sisters of Sin frolic in the meadow that covers the path down to the riverbank. Their flowing white dresses and long hair twirl in the gentle breeze.

It is a nice day. Omega turns his face towards the sun and feels how the foundation moves on his cheeks. He’ll never get tired of being out in the topside sun. The heat from the planet is a pleasant warmth compared to the spikes of fire from the Pits.

He hears water splash. Down at the edge of the grass, Terzo is wading into the water, while in that stupid outfit.

Part of Omega’s brain purrs in happiness knowing the brackish water will destroy the offending shirt but also–What the Hell is he doing? That outfit alone cost nearly $3,000, and they bought it just yesterday!

Despite the conflict within Omega, he ultimately decides to sit still. He’ll give Terzo a reprimand after he’s done being a destructive little shit. So he sits, watching the Sisters remove their sandals and wade in a bit aways from Terzo.

All of them are only waist-deep. Are they going to do some sort of synchronized swimming routine? Omega doesn’t remember Terzo being very good at keeping afloat just by himself.

To Omega’s disbelief, the first Sister wades to Terzo and he takes her hands in his right, cradling her against his chest. Her blonde curls flare in the wind coming off the water.

Terzo’s free hand comes up to rest at the back of her skull and he dips her back into the water.

Her perfectly tan hand slides up to his jaw, a teasing thumb brushing against the black paint of his upper lip.

Terzo submerges her entirely then helps her upright, the water rushing from her plump form. Her white choir robe clings to her now stiffly peaked nipples. His hand that held her stomach sneakily cups her right breast during the sloshing of the cold river water.

Omega wouldn’t typically be that upset; he’s always up for a third (or fourth, fifth, and so on) to join him and the Antipope. The Sister is extremely beautiful and has always been kind to the Ghouls, but this bastardization of a water baptism taking place in front of Omega after Terzo was being so fucking petty, absolutely makes Omega’s pointed ears burn with jealousy.

One by one, the baptism continues five more times. Each one has some naughty tease between Terzo and the Sister: the next one gasps out a moan at the cold water when she comes up, the third one unbuttons the infuriatingly pink top button of his shirt, and the fourth Sister’s breasts are basically exposed through the now-soaked white robe.

The fifth woman is more bold than the rest. When the brunette cuddles into Terzo’s baptismal embrace, her hand follows the same path as those before her–up to cup the blurred edge of his papal paint on Terzo’s jaw. He leans her back and submerges her.

She’s guided back up with Terzo’s steady hands (hands that are usually gripping Omega’s white hair as the Ghoul fucks the Hell out of him) and as she lets the face drip from her face, she leans forward and catches his lips.

Terzo doesn’t hesitate to deepen it.

And on the far shore, four unglamoured Ghouls howl with the victory of a fresh kill. It echoes so loudly that it creates ripples on the mostly-calm river.

Omega’s Hell-beast blood boils.

He leaps up from his chair and stomps past the production crew and down to the water’s edge. He ignores the sound of the crew frantically packing up as the scent of ozone fills every molecule of the air by the riverbank.

“ Get the fuck off her !” Omega thunders in Ghoulish.

The Sister squeaks and pulls out of Terzo’s arms so fast she falls onto her ass in the water.

Terzo goes to help her up but Omega leaps from the bank and slams into the raven-haired man.

They collide and go underwater, Terzo’s hands grappling the front of Omega’s vestments as they resurface. The Antipope’s aviators are missing and he goes to search for them but Omega pulls him away from the shore.

“ You make me sit here all day, tease me, and now you decide to snog a Sister during a fake baptism, in front of all these strangers?!” Omega growls as he bodily drags the now fully soaked Antipope to a mostly-submerged cove just out of sight. He tosses Terzo onto the small silver of a rocky beach, making sure it’s enough to bruise, but not actually hurt him.

Terzo spits out some brackish water to the side. His face is equal parts cocky and affronted, but the smirk on his ruined makeup grows as he takes in the Quintessence Ghoul’s burning eartips and heavy rut scent. “It was Sister Imperator’s idea-”

“ I know it fucking wasn’t. You’re just a whore.”

Terzo reclines on the beach as if he wasn’t just dragged through the water like a piece of lumber, “I never took you for a jealous teenage Ghoul.”

Omega snarls, frustration only building at the man’s continued sass. Doesn’t he know what danger he’s in? He trudges through the water and lets his glamour fully fall. He feels his horns reappear and his sleeves bulge as they barely contain the soot-black muscles Omega crafted over centuries as champion in the fighting Pits.

Instead of flinching, Terzo’s erection hardens in his wet trousers. “ Un ragazzo così grande …”

That tone immediately dismisses part of Omega’s fury. There’s appreciation and lust wrapped up in that sentence. How is he supposed to stay angry when Terzo becomes so riled up when he’s in his most authentic form?

“I’m still angry ,” The Ghoul says.

Terzo slicks back his sopping bangs, “I would hope so. I’ve been so naughty I deserve a punishment; merito una sculacciata . A good spanking would make me repent.”

Omega reaches forward and slices through the white vest and pink shirt with a long claw.

“Hey! Fuck you, we just bought this! I could have gotten the salt out of it.”

“You’ve been sitting in brackish water for the past two hours and now you’re upset?” Omega rips the offending material from the man’s body to float off in the water around them. “If anything, this is simply payback. I don’t think I should even touch you. I should leave you here to trudge back to shore; water-logged, naked, and messy-faced.”

Terzo play-struggles as Omega grips his chin tight enough for his claws to press in. The Quintessence Ghoul sees his mismatched eyes roll with pleasure.

“ Filthy .”

“The correct word is-” Terzo’s shit-eating grin grows.

Omega has him on his stomach in the next blink, claws raking down the man’s legs to shred the white trousers. He relishes the red scratches that follow his claws. “Shut the fuck up.”

Terzo lets out a groan and his hands grasp for purchase on the slippery rocks. “ Omega …oh, how you spoil your Papa.”

“Right now, you’re nothing more than my bitch.” Omega has to re-glamour his hands so he can pry apart Terzo’s slippery thighs. When the infuriating man wiggles his ass out of Omega’s grip, the Ghoul smacks the pert right cheek.

Terzo’s echoing gasp is beautiful. Water sloshes over him and pools in the hip dimples above his ass.

Terzo makes Omega carry him back to shore after a rough fuck in the cove. Indulging the man who did make him cum so hard his vision whited out isn’t the thing he has issue with. Staking a claim on Terzo has only partially satisfied him.

The shreds of the blasted pink shirt swirl in his wake as Omega trudges back to shore. As the Quintessence Ghoul walks back to the Abbey at the top of the hill, Terzo lounges in the strong arms.

Terzo idly plays with the black chest hair brushing against his cheek as Omega walks. “Why don’t you like me in pink again?”

“You’re better suited to richer tones.”

“Do you think purple is ugly on me as well?”

Omega rolls his eyes and sets Terzo on his feet as they reach the Abbey’s doors. “Of course not.”

“I would like a reason, per favore ,” Terzo ignores Omega holding open the doors for him.

“You simply look better in colors other than pink. Even going a shade darker like magenta would bring out the warm undertone in your skin.” Omega takes the human’s forearm and turns it over, tracing a claw over the thrumming veins below the skin.

Terzo blinks, “So you aren’t just doing this to spite me.”

Omega’s thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Spite you? For what?”

“Because I had the other Ghouls come with me to the fitting and had you come later,” Terzo admits sheepishly.

“I don’t care about that shit.”

Terzo hums, “So…you tackling me and pounding me into the rocks of a cave wasn’t a consequence of your jealousy from earlier this week?”

Omega takes a deep breath. “No. It’s because…I was jealous of the Sisters in the music video. How they got to hold you, how tender you were while you gave them an unholy baptism, all while wearing the shirt you knew I disliked…I want to feel like you hear my opinion.”

“Oh.” Is all Terzo can say. His face flushes in realization. “I probably was a bit mean and the gold was pretty… Mi dispiace .” He hugs Omega around the middle.

Omega sighs and pets the damp raven hair, “You’re too cute to stay upset with.”

“I promise to make it up to you,” Terzo’s smile is innocent but filled with the promise of something naughty.

The large Ghoul watches the naked antipope saunter inside without a care in the world. He passes a wary Sister Imperator and Cardinal Copia talking in the foyer without a second glance.

While the music video was in the editing phase, Sister Imperator called the band together to record ‘He Is.’ It only took a few times to get a good enough recording, and Sister rewarded them with a few days off.

Before Omega could even grasp the fact that he only had a few cleaning chores for the next two days, Terzo was rushing out of the studio room. Rolling his eyes, Omega reracks his guitar and chats with the producer about if there was anything he needed to drag Terzo back to fix.

“So, ‘Mega…want to come hunting with us?” Pebble’s tiny form pops up from behind the drum kit.

He thinks it over. He could go track down Terzo but potentially get turned away for the man to have a nap, or join his kin for the night. “Hunting sounds good.”

Pebble’s fanged grin is infectious. “Awesome! You missed out on Mist taking down a deer twice her size! It was so cool.” The two ghouls walk from the studio out into the courtyard where the other three Ghouls are stripping their clothes to hand to one of the sisters tasked with laundry.

“No more blood stains on these, please. It was impossible after yesterday’s hunt,” Sister Anais held out the basket already filled with Alpha and Zephyr’s uniforms. Mist is taking her time undoing her boots.

Omega easily undoes the buttons of his cassock.

“Now, you boys are going to be careful out there tonight, yes? The game Warden said there’s an excess of about thirty deer this season,” She says, nodding as all of them finish placing their clothes in her basket.

“Including the ones from yesterday?” Zephyr’s gray eyes brighten.

“No. New total based on the herds movement today. I’ll tell Papa all of you are leaving.”

Omega and his pack scamper through the courtyard (always careful of Primo’s topiaries) and out the gates to the hill that holds the forest on one side and the meadow that leads to the riverbank on the other. Once out of view from any Siblings, all of them let their Earthly glamours slip away.

Omega’s muscles have been crying out for him to move for a few days now. Even his hot tryst with Terzo in the cove wasn’t enough to fully drain all of his infernal adrenaline. He senses how the forest is filled with potential dinner, a group of deer only a mile away.

He drops to all fours and bounds away, leaving his mates to hopelessly beat him to the first kill.

Not many things were better than this.

It’s near midnight when the five Ghouls waddle back to the Abbey with bellies full of rabbit, fox, and deer. Thankfully they were able to stop before they hit the target overpopulated numbers. There’d be another night of hunting in a week or so.

Omega drops his body onto the Ghoul common room couch. He could sleep for a month, but then he’d miss Samhain and Terzo’s birthday.

Mist plops into the armchair by his head. “Those rabbits were so tender…” She purrs happily.

“My fox was delicious. I probably absorbed his wit and cunning.” Pebble maneuvers her so he can curl up with her.

There’s a collective eye roll from the pack.

“We’ll see if you stick a fork in the toaster again!” Alpha calls, snickering.

Omega closes his eyes as the pack continues to roast each other. He’s on the edge of falling asleep when footsteps come from the stairs down into the crypt that holds the Ghoul den. He cracks an eye open, seeing the common room is empty of his pack. He must have dozed for a bit longer than he thought.

The Quintessence Ghoul smells the air and relaxes as the scent of Maison Margiela’s Jazz Club fills his senses. “Terzo,” He says to the newcomer.

Terzo is dressed in a loose black t-shirt and baggy gray sweatpants. His face is empty of skull paint. “I was wondering if you were going to leave your poor Papa all alone in bed tonight,” He says innocently. His bare feet are barely audible as he steps up to the couch, tracing a finger down Omega’s strong nose.

“Sorry, we got back maybe an hour ago and I dozed off.”

“Va abbastanza bene , Omega. At least, it would be alright… if I got some special attention.”

Omega pulls the man’s hips until he’s straddling the Ghoul on the couch.

Terzo tsks, “Not here.”

“Then where?” Omega asks.

“My rooms, please.”

Omega exhales and lifts the man back to his feet. “You should’ve just called me to come upstairs.”

“I did. You didn’t pick up.” Terzo pulls out his iPhone. Sure enough, Omega missed three calls and three texts from him.

Shit. Time to turn on the romantic gestures. Omega picks up Terzo easily in his arms, one wrapped securely under his knees and behind his back. He regales Terzo with how the hunt went as they ascend the stairs and make it to the man’s papal suite.

Terzo locks the door and turns to Omega with a coy smirk. “Now, before we start anything, I did get you a surprise.”

Omega puts his slippers by the end of the bed. “Hmm, what for?” He asks, suspicious.

“Well you still believe I don’t look good in pink–”

“Terzo, are you seriously still thinking about that?” Omega gives him a pleading look. “I’m sorry I said that.”

Terzo nods, “Yes, yes; I forgive you for all that shit. Anyways…I thought I would show you that I do in fact look good in pink.” His hands take their time moving to the hem of the shirt he stole from Omega, then pull the garment up and over his head to toss carelessly on the floor.

Hidden by the bagginess of the shirt is a baby pink, sheer lace bralette embroidered with cherries and soft ruffles. Terzo doesn’t have a lot of area to be placed in a bralette, but the sheerness makes the illusion that he’s filling it out just a bit.

Terzo’s smirk grows as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants.

Omega’s eyes are glued to the slow reveal of skin and matching pink lace hemline that appears as the sweatpants pool at the human’s ankles.

The front panel of the panties are the same pattern as the bralette cups. It leaves nothing to imagination as the leaky tip of Terzo’s cock just sticks out over the panty hemline. The soft looking ruffles continue over the high cut expanse of Terzo’s thighs to disappear to probably cup his ass perfectly.

“So what do you think?” Terzo turns in a circle, and Omega feels his blood drain to his cock.

He was correct about the ruffles. Omega is dumb with memorizing the sinful sight in front of him. “Oh..”

Terzo gently lifts his head by the chin, tearing Omega’s lavender eyes from roving over his body. He uses his leverage to move Omega backwards until the Ghoul’s knees hit the bed. Omega drops back to the bed, stuck in Terzo’s laser-focused gaze.

“Now, il mio gatto cattivo , no claws are allowed to rip this delicate outfit,” Terzo coos, easily lifting himself to straddle the Ghoul’s wide chest. “Premium Italian lace…Rip even a single stitch and you’ll be forced to watch your brethren have their way with me."

Omega snorts, cockiness rearing up at the demand even if he’s clearly losing the battle. “That’s still pretty hot.”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that you would be strapped to that lovely St. Andrew’s Cross?”

Omega gulps and his claws shift to human fingers.

“That’s what I thought. Now touch me,” Terzo says sweetly, taking the Ghoul’s hands to rest on the cups of the bralette. “A few more spoonfuls of Nutella and I’ll fill these, probably. Copia’s been making too much carbonara recently.”

“I would still love you either way,” Omega’s hand cups the back of his neck and pulls the man down to seal their lips together.

Terzo’s voice is pitched with arousal and fondness. “Sap.”

Omega’s left hand slides over the pink lace of his sides and down to grab a handful of Terzo’s ass. According to his fingertips, it’s a thin thong in the back, the crotch band barely holding a glass plug inside him. Omega’s finger stretches the fabric and he snaps the thin waistband against the smooth side of the plug’s base.

Terzo yelps, “Watch it, asshole! That could’ve come apart!”

Omega shrugs and does it again. “Seems fine to me.” He presses a finger against the plug and forces it as deep as it can go without getting completely swallowed.

Terzo’s hole resists, turning it into a game that leaves him flushing as pink as his lingerie.

“Didn’t stretch all the way for this, huh?” Omega coos to the human.

“I like it when it burns at first,” Terzo says, even if both of them already know it.

Omega grasps the end of the plug and pulls it out in one smooth motion. He lets it roll from his hand to somewhere on the duvet of Terzo’s bed. They’ll deal with it after Terzo’s cock-dumb and knotted.

Terzo is pressing a tube of lube into the hand wrapped around his ass.

“When did you grab that?” Omega pops open the cap easily and spreads a good amount inside the human with invading fingers.

“I had it in the left cup,” He moans when Omega presses against his prostate.

Of course, the bralette cup Omega didn’t feel up. “Sneaky bastard ,” The Ghoul growls. He tosses the lube in the same direction as the glass butt plug. He lifts his hips and slides down the boxers he put on after getting back from the hunt. His cock springs to attention from its confines, the tapered tip slapping against the beginning swell of Terzo’s ass. It doesn’t take much maneuvering for Omega’s head to find Terzo’s hole and push in.

Terzo’s answering moan vibrates through Omega’s chest where the man’s immaculate fingernails dig into his pecs. The Ghoul didn’t notice the coating of nude pink on Terzo’s nails. That wasn’t there earlier…was it?

Nothing else matters as Omega pushes himself inside all the way to the hilt. He feels Terzo’s ass resist him near the end but a carefully placed kiss to the human’s neck makes him relax easier.

“I bought this…so we could fuck and keep it on…” Terzo pants into Omega’s hair.

“So thoughtful,” Omega sighs happily. His hands shift to cup an asscheek in each, forcing Terzo’s center of gravity over his face and leaning on his hands on either side of Omega’s ears. It puts the cherry-embroidered bralette cups right in his face. He cranes his neck and sucks at a nipple through the lace.

Terzo squirms at the first few slow thrusts, trying to frustrate Omega enough that he’ll speed up without any begging.

“You’re so beautiful in this,” Omega fucks up into him deeper. He’s so slick and warm and perfectly fluttering against the ribbed sides of his engorged cock. Every steadily increasing speedy thrust makes Terzo moan like a whore.

As wonderful a feeling as all of this is, Terzo is far from his twink past where he could bounce on a cock for hours at a time. His knees are older and are already starting to ache. “‘Mega…”

The Ghoul presses a kiss to his cheek to show there’s no hard feelings, and lets the human sit upright. Terzo carefully eases himself off Omega and makes himself comfortable against the pillows, blow-dried bangs fanning out around his unpainted face.

Omega turns onto his stomach to cage the human in between his arms. Terzo kisses him as he lines his cock back up to his entrance, swallowing their shared moans. Omega does his best to stay attached at the lips, but he’s craving to watch Terzo’s lace-covered body writhe under him.

The lace is a more saturated pink than the stupid shirt. It complements the dusty rose of his nipples and the neat, salt-and-pepper hair that is smattered around the human’s sternum. It also fits well against the darkening red of his cock. The head strains against the thin silk waistband of the thong, the lace sticky and glistening as each thrust forces out another small spurt of pre-cum.

Omega wraps a hand around the lace covered cock and shifts the fabric over it. It moves the human’s foreskin and jolts Terzo into awareness at what he’s doing. “So much for talking about me ruining the lace…”

Terzo whines as Omega times the tight strokes with each rolling thrust. There isn’t much movement he can do with the panties, but it’s enough to send Terzo over the edge. His cock gets caught under the hem and his cum shoots from behind one of the cherry motifs, sticking the front gusset to his cock. He shivers in pleasure.

Omega doesn’t slow down. He knows his human isn’t satisfied with just one. He continues the steady pace, changing angle gradually to now rub a nodule on his cock against his prostate with every movement. Terzo shudders in overstimulation, his ass clenching against the invading cock. His nails dig into the short white hairs at the nape of Omega’s neck.

It all burns so good.

“I love…our little games,” Terzo breathes into the space between their lips. His mismatched eyes are lidded heavily, “You get so defensive…yet are always so ready to defend my honor. Fuck, right there, please…”

Omega places a flat hand on Terzo’s solar plexus and sits up straighter to thrust straight inside him.

Instantly, Terzo’s moans morph into punched-out whimpers. Omega’s fingers grasp the bralette to stretch it down to below his nipples. It acts as a leash to move Terzo in time with each roll of his hips.

“‘Mega…” Terzo whines, “Please, please…”

“Please, what? Gotta use your words, sweetheart.” The Quintessence Ghoul can feel the beginning swell of his knot. It’s starting to keep him from sliding all the way inside Terzo. He uses his momentum to pop in the swell and it makes Terzo explode with an orgasm again. This time, the cum reaches the edge of the bralette and Omega’s hand.

“O-oh, fuck!” The human cranes his neck to look down as he feels the knot forming.

Omega sweet talks him as he pushes the knot inside with each thrust until it’s formed enough that it would tear the human to push back out.

Nothing compares to this moment; Terzo’s musical whines in his ears, the mottled red blush of his chest underneath the cherries and pink lace, the gloopy pools of his cum from his two orgasms collecting in the thong and bralette waistbands.

“You want it, Terzo?” He can’t resist teasing him as he writhes. He can’t hold himself back, but it enhances the experience to hear the words from the man.

“Y-Yes! Please, ‘Mega!” The human yelps, helpless as a third orgasm overtakes him at the same time as he’s pushed full of Ghoul knot and a river of cum. A small indent forms as Omega floods him with enough release to knock up any Ghoul, female presenting or not.

It’s probably a good thing that Terzo’s the one taking knots and not Mist.

Terzo’s slumps against the fluffy pillows with a fluttering heartbeat. He lets silence fill the spaces between their panting breaths. “You ruin me for everyone else,” Terzo says quietly once they’re locked together and calmed for a moment. “At the tailor’s I agreed with you; that shirt was ugly. It didn’t match my undertone. Gold was a much better choice.”

Omega buries his head in the human’s hair so he can laugh, hiking up his hips so the angle of penetration doesn’t hurt his hips. They’ll be stuck together for a while. “You’re such an asshole.”

“And you love both my personality and asshole, il mio adorabile demone .”

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