#his voice. it shouldn't be allowed.
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thelostgirl21 · 1 month ago
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Okay, I've just gotta say though...
Imagine that you think you've fallen in love with some evil mastermind that only ever pretended to love you to gain power for himself!
Then, shortly after, you hear some sniffling coming from the corner of a room while searching for your family, and randomly find said "evil mastermind" looking like this:
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Radovid's main casting requirement: being able to look so small, vulnerable, soft, lost, and hurt, that it'll have some members of the audience yelling "Jaskier, you better fix this right now, you big meanie! Or I'll never forgive you!" at their screen!
Basically,
Me, before season 3: "I don't think I'll ever be able to feel as protective of any character in any TV show ever as I do of Jaskier."
Radovid: "Hold my wine bottle, I've got this!"
Me, after season 3: "I now have this strange urge to throttle that bard if he ever hurts that one again... What the fuck is going on?"
#Radovid#Radskier#Seriously#Jaskier#Don't hurt the tiny gentle little 6 feet tall likely technically most politically powerful person on the Continent if actually allowed#to rule his kingdom newly crowned against his will king#You're supposed to wrap him tightly in fur blankets and feed him soup...#I assume...#I mean look at him!#He's such a spoon it hurts!#It took him 0.5 seconds to start showing you genuine interest and appreciation and seek to find ways you two could fulfill#each others' needs and okay#Although people shouldn't be loved back based on merit or because they deserve to#You were immediately deeply intrigued and crushing hard and you do love him back#So as soon as you're sure Geralt's got all the help he needs to go rescue Ciri and do his Witcher thing#Go help Radovid and do your bard thing!#Seanchai said you're related to them...#Those celtic bards were considered scarier to those in power than any army!#They could make or break kings with a song!#Go do what you do best and use your voice to help him out of that corner he's been dragged into and lead him back into the light!#He'd have sold anything of value he has and given up his title to go help you rescue your family if he could have#Don't sacrifice or risk your family for him but don't leave him behind either...#Because I can't jump into that TV screen (believe me I've tried) to go help and rescue him#And I need to believe in you and trust you'll do the right thing and protect and take care of him like one should properly look after him...#BECAUSE LOOK AT HIM!!!#Look at those eyes and that face!!!#He was made for love and extraordinary things for fuck's sake!!!#You're supposed to feed each other porridge not cut each other open!#Be gentle with him!#My Posts
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eowyntheavenger · 1 year ago
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Americans, these are things we are NOT saying in 2024:
"Voting blue won't solve anything." Yes it will: if enough of us do it, it will solve a problem called Trump's second term in the White House. We unfortunately live in a two-party system. If you refuse to vote, you're effectively voting for Trump. I shouldn't need to explain this to people, yet here we are.
"It doesn't matter who's president. Both candidates are the same anyway." No, they are REALLY not. Biden was never my first choice, and his shipments of arms to Israel are despicable, but don't try to tell me even for a second that a second Trump term would be the same for the world as a second Biden term.
"But voting blue won't fix [fundamental underlying problem in America]." Voting for Democrats cannot fix every issue, this is true. But by saying this and ONLY this you are discouraging people from voting by making them feel hopeless. Voting is one of many tools in our arsenal, not the only tool, but an important one, and it does matter.
"You shouldn't vote blue, you should do [other thing] instead." See above: you can vote and protest and organize at the same time. It's not either/or. You can do it all. Stop discouraging voters from exercising their rights under the guise of leftism.
"Voting is just legitimizing government power. It makes you part of the system." Literally just shut up. Women and people of color didn't fight for their voting rights to have you say things like this. If you live in America and you can legally vote, then you should fucking vote, and vote blue. There is no neutral option.
"Voting blue just makes you complicit in [this bad policy]." Inaction, and allowing Trump to have a second term, is worse for the entire world than any Democrat policy. Yes, even that one. Voting is not about finding a perfect unproblematic candidate. It is about choosing the lesser of two evils.
"Voting doesn't work because—" STOP IT. STOP DISCOURAGING PEOPLE FROM VOTING.
You know who wants you NOT to vote? Trump supporters, that's who. You should be suspicious of ANYONE who is suggesting that your vote doesn't matter, or that both candidates are the same, or that Biden's policy on XYZ means you shouldn't vote for him. Trump supporters aren't trying to get your vote by saying, "Vote for Trump!" They're trying to get your vote by DISCOURAGING YOU FROM VOTING AT ALL.
I don't like Biden either, but Trump is unequivocally worse. Voting doesn't fix everything, but it is the minimum fucking requirement of living in a democracy. Voting for president has real, tangible, immediate impacts on people's lives, and choosing not to vote is not the rebellion you think it is, it is just relinquishing your voice. So fucking vote. THIS IS A GROUP PROJECT AND DAMN IT WE ARE NOT FAILING BECAUSE OF YOU.
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nochepsicodelica · 1 month ago
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"Really?" Toji asks, nudging your shoulder to wake you up, when he gets a good look at your back turned to him. His voice is slightly raspy with sleep, low in volume from its lack of use.
"Mm..." you hum in response, eyes shut as you try to ease back into slumber. You're in a curled position, your limbs wrapped around one of your extra pillows.
"Really?" Toji repeats, pawing at your shoulder, again.
"Yes, Toji," you say, quietly, not understanding what he's talking about, but agreeing just so that you can get back to sleep.
"Be serious, ma. Really?"
"What?" You ask, your tone somewhat laced with irritation, now.
It goes quiet for a few seconds, and then out of nowhere you hear the sheets rustling and the bed feels lighter. You're thinking there's no way he's so upset that he's leaving the room to sleep on the couch. He's the one who seemingly didn't want to cuddle, so you made do with what you had and grabbed a pillow.
You're snapped out of your attempt to go back to sleep when you feel your pillow trying to be yanked out of your arms.
"Let go of it," Toji mutters.
"What-" you grunt as you pull back and attempt to keep the pillow in your grasp. "What are you doing? Get back in bed, Toji." You hold on as tight as you can to the pillow that is slowly being torn out of your hands. "You're not gonna like when I let go and you're flung towards the wall."
"And you're not gonna like the punishment you earn if that happens. Let go of the pillow. Now."
You stare Toji down, holding your own against him. You know this isn't all of his strength and that he can easily rip the pillow out of your clutches, if he really wanted to, but like a dog with something it shouldn't have in its mouth, you're unwilling to do what he says.
"Listen up, doll, if you don't let go in the next five seconds, you're in for it."
"You're the one who pushed me away."
"Five."
"I need to hug something to sleep comfortably."
"Four."
"It's a pillow, Toji," you say, incredulously.
"Three."
"You're gonna take away my source of comfort?"
"Two."
"Toji."
"One. Let go."
"Oh my god," you groan, irritatedly. "Fine." You release the pillow, allowing Toji to take it away. You watch in disbelief as he throws it at the door so you can't get it without leaving the bed. You huff and scoot as close as you comfortably can to your end of the bed without falling off, before he returns to his side.
"Geeet back here." An arm is thrown over your waist, dragging you closer towards the center of the bed, until your back meets his front and his legs are tangled with yours. "Where are you going, huh? Still chasing after that pillow?"
"All of a sudden you wanna be close to me?" You scoff, in disbelief.
"So much attitude," he murmurs. His hand goes under your shirt, gliding up your warm skin to rest on your tummy. "Need me to give it to you all seven days, now?"
"No," you grumble.
"Well, that's what it's sounding like, to me." A kiss is planted on your shoulder. "Fix that tone, mama."
"You're so unfair. You're the one who didn't want to be held, but as soon as you noticed that I wasn't holding you, you took away my source of comfort. What did you want me to do, Toji?"
"I didn't even push you away, I rolled away in my sleep. It doesn't count."
You just hum in response, no longer in the mood to bicker about something so trivial when you could be working on getting back to sleep. A few seconds of silence go by, a spark of tension formed due to your lack of words.
"Ma?" He calls, barely pinching your soft, warm skin.
You sigh, blinking your eyes open. "What?"
"You mad?" His hand flattens on your tummy, rubbing slowly, as he waits for you to respond.
"No," you say, quiet and icy, even in its subtlety.
"That's a lie," Toji says, chuckling. "Come on, doll. What's got you all hot?"
It's hard not to melt into his touch. The kisses he presses to your shoulder only add on to the difficulty.
"Doesn't matter," you say, still trying to remain stoic.
"Yeah, it does. Now, tell me," he insists. "You're really gonna make me beg at almost two in the morning?"
"I was sleeping, and you woke me up 'cause you were butthurt over me hugging a pillow. There. Does that satisfy you?" You respond, and Toji has the audacity to laugh. You want to laugh too, but your stubbornness and pride will not easily allow you to.
"Poor baby," he coos, a mocking lilt to his tone. "You wanna tell me how to make it better?"
"You're an ass," you bite, no sharpness in your tone whatsoever.
"Ooh, I can hear that pout. You want a kiss? 'Cause I can give you one," he whispers, in your ear.
"Shut up," you mumble, trying not to give away the curling of your lips.
"You want a baby in here?" He asks, gently pressing into your stomach with his index finger.
"No! What?" You say, your giggles finally beginning to surface.
"Gotcha. Made you laugh," he says, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. He presses a kiss to the area before squeezing you in his arms, tight enough to make you groan until he eases up. "Now, tell me how to make it better. Come on, ma. It's not good to go to sleep mad."
You sigh, not wanting to argue with this annoying, yet, charming man, anymore. "Just help me get back to sleep," you mumble.
"Oh, I can do that," he says, a low chuckle homing into your ears. His hand lifts your shirt up more, aiming to get more access to your chest.
"Not like that, you perv!" You chide, pinning his hand on your mid-center. "Can you do that thing you always do?" You guide his hand down, until it rests just above your navel. He knows what you mean, and if this is what it takes for you to not be mad at him, he'll do it.
"You're like a baby that needs to be soothed to sleep," Toji murmurs, as he begins caressing your tummy, drawing little shapes on your skin that fuel your tiredness.
You huff out a laugh. "Acting like you don't drool and snore the second I start playing with your hair when you lay your head on my chest."
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eyesxxyou · 4 months ago
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First Drink 🥃
🍺・・・l. howlett x fem!reader
rating. m
word count. 2.2k
synopsis. you were everything logan shouldn't want. young, religious, and innocent. you were sweet to everyone. and you've never been touched. logan wants to be your first everything.
or
Logan gives you your first drink
warnings. age gap relationship (reader is 21, Logan is nearing 50) , religious reader, innocent reader, drinking, forced alcohol consumption, dubious consent, fingering, squirting, not edited
↳ pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3
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Logan is far from a holy man. He drinks too much, smokes too often, hasn’t even stepped foot in a church in his entire life. He’d like to think he’s a good man though, one who tries to make the right decisions when he can, but he knows that what he’s like to think and the reality of it all were two wildly separate things. For how could he be a good man when he’s got it out for you, a pastor’s daughter?
He didn’t mean for it to happen. Kind of stumbled into it as one stumbles into trying cocaine. That is to say, he didn’t stumble into it at all. It was a deliberate decision made with addictive consequences. You were his neighbor, a meek, kind little thing often wrapped up in your bible while you sit quaintly on the front steps of your family house. You were young, not too young though. Freshly turned 21. Yet you still wore your modest clothing and pretty mary janes with frilly socks.
Logan was a perverted man. There was no way to get around it. You were as kind and as innocent as any one person could be. You spoke to him kindly, you brought him lemonade while he was working on his motorcycle and all he could think about was how pretty you’d look in his lap with his large hand on your tummy, feeling the bulge of his cock nestled nicely against your womb.
It was one of these days when you brought him lemonade and sat with him in his garage that he turned to you, hands covered in grease and oil. “You’re 21 now, right doll?” Logan grabbed a towel from out of the waist of his jeans and used that to clean off his hands before grabbing the small crystalline cup of fresh lemonade to sip on. It was almost as sweet as you, not nearly as pleasing to taste.
You sat on a small crate with your knees close to your chest. The toes of your sleek, black mary janes pointed to each other. “Yes sir.” He liked that about you, how respectfully you spoke to him. It reminded him of how much power he had over you, how many years, how much authority. Oh, he is far from a holy man.
“You had your first drink yet?”
You were a sweet, little thing, flustered at the mere suggestion of drinking alcohol. “Oh, no sir. I don’t drink. My father would never allow it.” You and your tender sensibilities. You and your innocent nature. Logan thought about how easy it would be to have his way with you. You wouldn’t fight, wouldn’t scream, wouldn’t so much as make a peep. You’d be too entranced by the way his fingers slide along your tongue and his length snuggle sits way into the walls of your unused cunt.
Logan hummed softly. “You wanna?” He watched the way your eyes shifted as you considered it, a world within your grasp if you just had the courage to reach for it. He’d give it to you, all of it, a universe of worldly pleasures. Why restrict yourself now to go to heaven when you can have heaven on Earth right here?
“I shouldn’t.” Your voice is slow and unsure. All you needed was a little push and you’d tip right over the edge into depravity. That’s the thing about little girls like you, you long for a touch of what’s beyond you but you’re always too scared to get it.
Logan stood up to his staggering height, all legs and muscular torso. “Come on, no one will know but me and you.” He offered a hand to you and after a moment of hesitation, you placed your hand in his large palm and let him pull you up to your feet and guide you into his house. It was a world you had never before seen, rustic and dark, smelling so strongly of Logan you thought you might faint.
He had a whole cabinet for his alcohol, bottles of scotch, whiskey, and bourbon. Logan grabbed a bottle out of the cabinet along with a whiskey glass for you to sip out of. He poured some out and you watched with utter fascination. The golden brown liquid long kept from you for fear you may lose your spot in Heaven. Worldly pleasures such as drinking doomed you to Hell.
“Come here, doll.” Logan coaxed you towards him with two fingers as he sat down on his couch, legs open just enough to offer you a comfortable seat on his thighs. You trembled like a newborn deer, scared of this strange, new world you’ve found yourself in. He brought you into his lap, his hands resting on your thigh as he pushed the glass of whiskey into your hand. “Go ahead and try it.”
You looked into the glass, golden brown sloshing around. It didn’t look so intimidating, like drinking Coca-Cola. But it didn’t taste like Coca-Cola when you lifted the glass to your lips and took a sip. It tasted bitter and burned your throat as it went down. “I don’t like it.” You pouted softly, turning to look over your shoulder at Logan. His fingers slowly began to gather the fabric of your skirt, pulling it up your thigh. “Just keep drinking, doll.”
You were a good girl. You did as told, entirely unaware of the way his fingers kept pulling at your skirt until it was entirely up your thigh. You felt his rough fingertips against your bare flesh and shivered as he traced figure 8s into your skin. “Mr. Howlett?”
“Shh, keep drinking.” Logan murmured as he felt up your thigh, closer and closer to your heated cunt. You writhed in his lap, simultaneously uncomfortable and aroused as you felt his rough fingers brush against the damp fabric of your cotton panties. The stuck to your pussy lips, wet and sensitive as he pressed his thumb to your clit through the fabric and began to rub. Logan took his free hand and pushed the cup back to your lips, tilting it to force you to drink.
Logan couldn’t help himself. You were here, splayed out before him for the taking. He’d be stupid not to take advantage of, take advantage of you. You didn't fight it, just as he had expected, like a good girl. “Spread your legs now.” He clicked his tongue and crooned into your ear.
Trembling, you shook your head. “I– I can't.” Your voice, all small and meek, only made his pants tighter. You could feel it, the bulge against your ass through his jeans. Or maybe that was the large buckle against his pelvis.
“Yeah you can. Open up, doll.” He shifted you slightly so that you were sitting on one of his thighs. He used his leg to part yours a bit further, skillfully. He’s had many girls in his lap, none as pretty as you.
Logan stroked your quivering cunt. “What a wet little girl you are. You been thinking about this, pretty girl?” He bounced you on his thigh and let you slide further into his fingers. A stifled whimper escaped you as you braced yourself against him. “Mr. Howlett– please.” You pleaded for your innocence, for your integrity. Most importantly, you begged for him not to expose your innermost thoughts. The sinful way you look at him, all muscle and hair and man.
Your fingers grasped at his wrist and forearm, nails digging into his skin. It wasn't like you were trying to move his hand, not like you could if you wanted you.
You gasped as he curled a finger into the side of your soaked panties and pulled them to the side. Your cheeks began to swell with the heat of embarrassment. Of course, you never expected to have any sexual experience before marriage so you hadn't shaved between your legs. Logan didn't mind at all it seemed, his finger dipped between your lovely lips and stroked in tender touches.
You squirmed in his lap, whimpering. “Mr. Howlett, I…I shouldn't. Please.” His thumb pressed on your puffy clit, pulsing with arousal, and you choked as the electrifying jolts of pleasure shooting through your body. You had ever been touched like this before, not even by yourself. Logan’s experienced fingers circled your leaking entrance, teasing at all the possibilities of pleasure.
“No one has to know, doll.” Grunted Logan. He felt the way your pussy fluttered, the whole thing aching with want. He eased a single finger into you, sighing out a sweet “Jesus” at the way your walls clamped down around him. You let out a squeal, back arching away from him, your nails sinking into his hairy forearm. Your entire body shivered. “Too big,” you murmured, “‘s too big.”
You were small, tight, and already complaining that a single finger was too much. How could he possibly fit his fat cock into your cunt? Logan was sure he'd tear you in half, his precious girl. “Relax, grab that bottle and drink some more, baby. It’ll help you loosen up.”
With a shaky hand, you reached out and grabbed the bottle off the table in front of you. You brought it to your lips and sipped at the liquid while Logan rubbed your hip with his free hand. “Good girl. I gonna keep going now.” You shook your head viciously. “No, no, no, ‘m not ready.”
He cared not for your concerns. Free hand pulling your legs apart, Logan curled pulled his finger from your gripping cunt before sliding it back in. You were all warm and soft on the inside, just like you were on the outside, even more so. You squeaked and squealed in his lap, his thumb attacking your clit in ferocious circles.
It’s a feeling you’ve never experienced before, being fucked with a single thick finger. You mewled, mind growing hazy as your hips rocked against your will. Logan knew you wouldn't be able to handle a second finger. He’d rupture your hymen and he wanted to save that honor for when he pushed himself into you and possessed you completely.
You were dripping down his knuckles. He fingered you so hard and fast, you nearly screamed as you thrashed in his lap. “Mmmh ah, ah… ngh.” Something wet trickled out of you and down Logan's hand, clear and dripping. A weak, little squirt, followed by a much larger one.
“I– I’m sorry, I didn't…” You panted out, whining. Logan cooed lowly in your ear. “Got myself a squirter.” He chuckled, a nice puddle on his leg and couch from your sweet show of pleasure. He curled his finger, messaging your soft walls in desperate search of that soft ridge where your g-spot lay.
When he found it, Logan smiled, chucking as you yelped and cried out, a rattling moan shivering up your spine. You tried to slow his hand, grasping and scratching at his arm. You fell back against his chest, legs splayed open while he took the time to abuse your pretty cunt. “You okay, doll?”
You whined vaguely, hazily, your body rolling then slumping, tensing then relaxing. “I– It feels weird.” Something was building within you. Something tight and breathtakingly beautiful. Tears pricked your eyes, wide and pretty, weeping with the brutality of your orgasm, pressing on the edge of unknown pleasures.
And it snapped like a rubber band. Everything that had been held back released all at once, ravishing your body to the point where there goes pointed in your Mary Jane's and your back arched. Shaking, you clawed at Logan's arm so hard you left bright red marks lining his flesh. “Mr. Howlett!”
“Shh, shh, don't want the neighbors to hear you, do you doll?” Logan slowed his hand, pulling his finger from your aching pussy. His entire hand dripped with your cum, sweet and creamy, some slick with your squirt. “Open up, little one.” He teased the tips of his fingers to your lips like he had that glass of whiskey. Coaxing your mouth open, Logan slipped his fingers between your lips and pressed his fingers to your tongue.
You tasted nice, sweet. Your body unmarred by the poison of excessive alcohol, smoking, or junk food. You were clean and pure, untouched by anyone but him. Logan loved it, knowing that he’s the first man to ever touch you. The knowledge was almost as good as an orgasm by itself. You were his, he possessed you. You were his before you were anyone else's.
When you stood, skirt falling back down to your knees, your legs trembled with the aftershock of your first orgasm. You let out a deep, shaky breath, trembling as you turned to look at Logan’s sitting figure. “M–M–Mr. Howlett.” It’s all you could manage to say to him, choking. You had been violated; your sacred temple desecrated.
And you liked it.
Logan hiked himself up to his feet from his couch and stood before you, towering. His hands on your hips, he pulled you in close to him. You braced yourself with your hands against his solid chest. Your cheeks were still wet with tears which Logan wiped away with the pads of his thumbs. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow, doll?”
You were such a good, obedient girl. You nodded slowly. “Yes sir.”
“Good girl.”
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gumified · 7 months ago
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WATCHING THRU THE MIRROR !
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pairing: suguru x reader, toji x reader, satoru x reader, choso x reader, sukuna x reader (all separate)
summary: jjk men and how much they love to fuck you with a mirror around.
content: 3.1k, smut, mirror kink (duh!), spanking, degradation, praise, dirty talk, overstimulation, breast play, spitting, public sex (it's in a club bathroom), creampie, dumbification, choking
note: this is filthy but i cba to revise for my history exam so here you guys goooo!
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SUGURU GETO
"look at you." suguru coos at your figure in the mirror and your body is littered with dark purple bruises. you feel yourself grow wetter at the sight. his hands roam your body and your eyes are glued to the way his cock thrusts in and out of you. the way it disappears into your heat and how it's so big and thick. "do you like seeing me fuck you?" 
the sensation has tingles shooting up your spine. your boyfriend's voice is low and husky and it has your pussy clenching around his cock. strands of his dark hair fall into his eyes and he ignores it as he continues to fuck you relentlessly. the mirror in front of you both allows you to see your face and your reactions as he pleasures you. 
"love seeing you fall apart on my cock." suguru groans. you’re unable to take your eyes off the sight in front of you, staring at the way you look so unfamiliar and it’s so embarrassing that you turn your head to look away. suguru’s hands grab your chin, forcing you to look back at your messy body. “nu uh, don’t look away now, we’re about to get to the good part.”
you squirm in his grip, staring at your boyfriend's flushed face as a low growl leaves his throat. you whine at the sight. he fills you up and the room's filled with erotic sounds of his balls slapping on your sweaty skin. the tip of his cock hits a spot inside of you that has your body buckling over and you seeing the stars. everything feels so good and you can't help but feel your release approaching.
"s-suguru…" you moan. “ahh! so good, so so good, nghh-”
your stomach tightens and you feel your orgasm wrack through your body, pleasure shooting up your spine. you desperately try to keep your expression straight, not wanting to let suguru know that you had just come. you really should be known better though.
he stops his movements and his eyes harden into a glare. "did you just cum?" you shake your head. "no? really darling? you shouldn't lie to me."
“not lyin’ promise promise, didn’t lie, a-ahh!”
his eyes through the mirror has you shivering and you try to look somewhere else, anywhere else but you can feel him all around you. the truth is practically forced out of you and once it slips past your lips you hear suguru snarl and turn you over onto his lap. he delivers a harsh smack and a red mark begins to bloom. the zing of pain that shoots up within you only has your pussy dripping more. 
"such a needy whore, want me to fuck this cunt raw don't you? can't even follow simple instructions, do you need to be taught like a fucking baby?" each audible smack is delivered with more intensity than the last and you whimper at the pain. it spreads through your body and you wince when his hand comes into contact with your supple flesh. you’re moaning and writhing in his grasp. there's a steady rhythm to it and you can't help but stick your ass higher, craving his touch. “you don’t even know how to listen nasty whore.”
you whine at the numbness that fills the lower part of your body. suguru gives your ass a squeeze. you try to contain the moan that threatens to slip past your lips but it comes out and it's startling how pornographic you look in the mirror, your lewd expressions that reflect right back at you. you can feel him smirk as he leans down to whisper in your ear.
"gonna teach you a fucking lesson brat."
TOJI FUSHIGURO
“t-tojiii-'' a scream is ripped from your throat as you brace yourself against the sink. your hands grip the hard surface, clinging desperately as you get pounded from behind. “toji toji toji, hnggh, ‘s too much, please please pleaseee.”
there’s tears edging at the corners of your eyes as you feel your pussy constrict around his cock. he’s fucking you like he’s got a point to prove and his thrusts are relentless as he continues to plough into you. each hit makes you keen with pleasure and you’re forced to look at your lewd reflection in the mirror.
“dirty fuckin’ girl.” toji snarls as his hands lift your chin so you stare directly at yourself. his hands slide down to your throat and you gasp as he squeezes it. you feel the air leave your lungs and your head becomes light. “look at yerself you whore, filthy face, ya only know how to cum around my cock like some desperate slut.”
his insults only fuel your pleasure and you moan as his tip hits your cervix over and over again. his other hand comes to grope your tits and you shriek as he pinches your nipples, twisting them and playing with the sensitive nubs between his fingers. his hands are rough and you feel him caress your whole body. 
“do you see this cunt?” his fingers snake down to rub your clit and your eyes flutter open as you watch as he abuses your pussy. his cock plunges in and out, splitting you open so deliciously. “it’s mine, fuckin’ all mine, f-fffuck you’re such a nasty whore.”
you’re dripping wet and you can feel the mess between your legs. toji’s cock feels so big and thick inside your walls and you can only moan like a bitch in heat as you feel him fuck you senseless. his hands tighten around your throat and it only makes you moan louder, lungs burning from the lack of oxygen. when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the foggy mirror all you see is your fucked out face. toji’s behind you, face flushed as he leans forward to place kisses on your neck. his teeth nip at your skin and his tongue brushes over the bite he leaves. you grind your hips against his, feeling the way his cock seems to expand inside you. 
“yours yours yours, ‘m all yours toji, ah! ah! ah!” you squeal as his cock hits that spot that has you convulsing with pleasure. the lewd noises fill the bathroom and you can feel the smirk against your neck as toji increases the pace of his thrusts. “gonna cum, gonna cum gonna cum!!!”
“yeah? go on then pretty girl, look at yerself as you cum on this cock, look at yerself as you get fucked stupid.”
his words push you over the edge and then your pussy’s clenching around his length, squeezing him so so tight that it has toji moaning above you as well. you scream as you feel yourself gush around him, liquid spraying everywhere as you watch your expression shift to one you had never seen before. you feel his fat tip bullying into your cunt and all you can do is moan as he continues to fuck you. 
“princess didn’t think we were finished did ya?” his tone is mean and condescending and you know that the next few hours would consist of you being bent over every surface imaginable as toji fucks his cum into you. “‘m gonna make you watch yerself over and over again until you’re too fucked out to even keep these pretty eyes open.”
SATORU GOJO
you’re pressed up against the floor length mirror, satoru’s behind you, cock plunging in and out of your cunt. the cool sensation on your cheek is a stark contrast to the burning heat that’s in between your legs. you feel your mind become hazy as you feel satoru’s cock throb inside you. 
“fuck baby, you look so gorgeous. love looking at your cute face as i fuck you, don’t you?”
his tone is mocking and you know he’s purposefully making fun of you. your too fucked out to even talk and all you can manage is a strangled moan as you feel yourself get lost in the pleasure. satoru’s cock is unreal and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits every single spot imaginable inside your body. he’s fucking you with so much fervour that you’re afraid that you’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow. 
“jus’ watch that filthy face, mouth open, tongue hanging out like some desperate bitch. who knew you were such a slut for cock?” satoru grips your hips like they’re the only thing keeping him sane as he fucks into your cunt. his dirty words fill your ears and all you can do is moan louder and louder as you listen to his haggard breathing. “tell me, who’s fucking you good? c’mon tell me who’s making an absolute, fffuckk, mess of this pussy.” 
“y-you, you’re the one fucking me ‘toru, you’re the only one who can fuck me this good, a-ah! ‘toruuu feels so good, wan’ more, please!”
a wicked grin spreads across satoru’s face and you scream when he lifts your leg, hoisting you to a higher position as his cock plunges into your tight hole. you feel him hit impossibly deeper and every thrust is accompanied with a breathy moan as he slams his hips against yours. 
his hands reach out to grab your face, twisting you to face him as he kisses you. his tongue delves into your mouth and you try to tug him closer to you. satoru swallows the lewd noises you provide him with, every moan, every whimper, every whine. he loves the way you call his name so desperately and he simply adores the way you look pressed up against the mirror, hands splayed pathetically in front of you. he pulls away, a string of salvia connecting the both of you and you watch as his eyes darken. 
“open.” and you obey his words, widening your mouth as you feel him spit into it. the feeling was enough to make you go insane. he moans before kissing you once more and it sends the both of you in a passionate frenzy. “god you’re so greedy, nghh, s-such a needy slut.”
and you can’t deny his accusations, not when you’re so erotically pressed up against the mirror for him, watching yourself unravel right in front of yourself. satoru’s lips rest on your neck, sucking harshly as he leaves a fresh trail of red marks. you’re rendered unable to move as he fucks you harder, your gummy walls sucking him in deeper.
“no no no, look at yourself pretty, c’mon look at the way you take me so well. can’t get enough of you.” your eyes are drawn to the way his cock disappears into you, the prominent bulge in your stomach the centre of your attention. satoru’s hands reach down to press against the outline of his cock and you mewl at his touch. warmth spreads throughout your body and you spasm uncontrollably as each thrust has you jolting. “we’re gonna be here all night and you’re gonna be filled so full with my cum that you won’t need anything else.”
CHOSO KAMO
choso’s eyes are glued to your reflection above him. he’s staring intently at the mirror on his ceiling as you bounce on his cock over and over again. you giggle at his cute expression, how enraptured he is to watch the both of you in the mirror. his face is flushed and his hair is splayed everywhere on the pillow while you ride him.
“you’re so pretty baby, do you like looking at me that much?” your voice is light and teasing as your fingers drag up his chest, feeling the hard muscle underneath you. “if i had known i would’ve installed a mirror above our bed much sooner.”
all choso can do is whine as he bucks his hips up desperately. your pussy squeezes his cock so tightly and he gasps, finding himself unable to take his eyes off your figure. you look so beautiful above him and the more he stares the harder he falls in love with you.
“y-y/n, fffuckk, feels so g-good, your pussy feels so good!” his moans are breathy as he struggles to catch his breath. his cock hits every spot inside you so deliciously that it has you whimpering as well. “wanna fuck you forever.”
choso’s hands grip your waist as he snaps his hips up to yours and you squeal at the sudden movement, not expecting him to suddenly thrust into you. his pace is unrelenting as he continues to pound into your pussy watching as you fall apart on his cock. he’s always been so big and he’s always been able to fill you up so full.
“a-ahh! o-oh my godd, choso love you so much, love you so so - hnghh - much!” you throw your head back, too engrossed in the pleasure and you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. lewd expression and fucked-out eyes greet your gaze. you smile at the sight above you. your boyfriend looks adorable, face blushing red and eyes squeezed shut as he groans and whines. the sight is almost too much to bear. 
choso reaches forward, grabbing your face close to his for a kiss. you moan as you melt into his body. your hands tangle through his hair and he lets out a whine when you tug at the roots. there’s tears pricking his eyes as he feels you tug on his dark locks.
“more, p-please more, need you s-so bad.” his words only fuel you more and you rock your hips back and forth faster, desperate to reach both of your highs. his hands wander around your body, caressing every inch of your skin until he finds your tits. his fingers play with your nipples, pinching and twisting them until it has you gasping for more. your cunt clenches around his cock and you can feel every protruding vein as he throbs painfully inside you. “w-wanna cum, please please please, ‘m so close y/n pleaseee.”
before you know it, you’re flipped over and choso’s on top of you, roughly ploughing into your pussy in a frenzied haze. his incoherent babbling fills your ears and all you can hear is him begging for his release. you feel your senses dim as his tip bruises your cervix and his cock seems to expand within you. your eyes lock onto the pens looking back to you in the mirror and you don’t recognise the girl whose mouth is agape and who’s moaning like a slut. choso captures your lips in a passionate kiss and he’s grinding his hips onto yours, fucking you dumb. 
“look y/n, hah, look at yourself as you c-cum on my cock, wan’ you to see yourself as i fill you with - nghh - my c-cum.” your hands claw at choso’s back and you see the red marks it leaves as your nails dig into his skin and he hisses at the sensation. the mirror gives you a clear view of yourself and your boyfriend as you release all over him and as he spurts his cum into your pussy. you moan as you hug him closer to you, so you can feel every inch of him. hot thick cum invades your body and you feel your mind blank as you lie beneath choso blissed out.
SUKUNA RYOMEN
“nasty fuckin’ bitch.” sukuna grabs a handful of your ass as he plunges his cock into your pussy. his palm makes contact with the smooth curve and you scream as the pain spreads through your body. “wearing such a slutty outfit, you’re just asking to be fucked dumb aren’t you?”
the only response you’re able to give is a strangled moan as you grip the dirty surface in front of you. your tits spill out of the tight dress you’re wearing and you watch as they bounce in the mirror. every harsh thrust sukuna delivers is reciprocated with the recoil your ass provides. his hand makes contact once again and you feel tears roll down your face.
“think you can break up with me then come to some club in some scraps of fabric you call a dress? guess you’ve really gone insane haven’t you princess?” his words only make you grow wetter as you whimper in response. the moment you had spotted sukuna in the dark corner of the club you knew he would drag you to the bathroom and fuck your brains out, not that you were complaining. “f-fuck forgot how well this pussy takes my cock, such a greedy girl.”
“hngghh, ‘kuna-” your words are cut off with a shriek as sukuna lifts you higher. his cock hits you even deeper and you’re falling apart all over again. you watch the mirror in front of you, looking at the way your face is sweaty and the wicked grin that’s on your ex's face. “so good ‘kuna, so so good!”
“yeah? missed me dirty girl? did you miss the way this cock fills your slutty pussy?” sukuna’s hands are rough as they grope your breasts, he’s not gentle as he pulls on your nipples harshly. “answer me slut.”
“m-missed you so much ‘kuna, s-soo much ahhh!”
sukuna smirks and he’s pounding into your cunt sloppily again. you feel your arousal dripping down your thighs as it lands on the floor. he kneads your soft skin between his hands, tainting you with his touch. “filthy fucking whore, that’s all you’re ever gonna be, my fucking cum dump.”
the repetitive slapping of skin fills your ears and your breathy moans mix in to create a lewd concoction. you sob at the overstimulation as you watch yourself get fucked in the mirror. it’s gone foggy yet you can still make out your figure bent over as you get stretched out from behind you. each thrust has you jolting forward and you desperately cling on to the little bit of sanity you have left as sukuna fucks it out of you. 
“you’re mine got that? don’t ever think about leaving me again, i’ll always find you princess because you’re mine, my cute little cocksleeve.”
you can’t take it anymore as you feel yourself squeeze his length. you’re so tight and his cock splits you open perfectly. his fat mushroom head invades your insides and you feel yourself craving his cum. you want him to use you so badly and you feel your own morals slip from your grasp. sukuna only continues his dirty praises as he leans forward, whispering them into your ear and his hot breath fans across your face and you mewl at the feeling.
“yours ‘kuna, only yours, wanna be yours forever please pleaseee!”
when you look up in the mirror you see the shit-eating grin that spreads across sukuna’s face and you feel your stomach tighten at the sight. his cock throbs in your pussy and you feel your whole body light on fire as he fucks into your harder. 
“that’s right, you’re mine.”
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ghaothbhean · 1 year ago
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tag dump
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backinmyphase · 28 days ago
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"A gift from our village for the king, the great Lord Sukuna!"
There was cheering behind you, firing up the hatred for these people who threw you out for the lion the second their life was threatened. The king was sitting there, chin on his hand as his eyes went over you. You knew he was making out your worth right now. Deciding if you were really good enough for a gift.
He was a strange looking man. Four arms, two different sides of a face, marks everywhere and you could see with just how he was sitting that he had a tall frame.
He was strange, but more like fascinating strange. However, that wouldn't make you hate him any less. After all he was the reason these people, you called your people once, gave you away that easily.
If only he didn't exist.
"You are staring."
His voice is deep but with a tint of mockery. Normally you would lower your head. If you were normal thinking, you wouldn't have risked your head for a snappy comment. No, you would have just kept your mouth shut.
"You are too."
There were many gasps. The strange monk with white hair next to him frowned. But the Lord didn't even raise an eyebrow.
Instead he stood up and you saw you were correct with your assumption, he was towering above everyone here. He slowly made his steps towards you. Now you were realizing how dangerous your action was. Just the way his presence made you want to hide was enough prove that he was danger. He stopped before you, looking down on you.
His hand found it's way to your chin lifting it, so you kept looking at him. You knew you shouldn't move. One snap with his finger and you would be... Oh well.
"I am." he grinned, while meeting your eyes. His were red. So unbelievable red, only blood could be.
"I hope I am allowed."
The silence spoke loud. You knew he was mocking you. He was making out right now if he should kill you or not, you were sure. There was just no way out of it, the decision was purely relying on his mood.
"Of course the king is allowed!" you heard screams from the people behind you.
"Lord Sukuna can do whatever he wants, no commoner can speak with him that way!"
There was loud mumbling of agreement behind you, which made your body stiffen. They were trying to get on his good side, there was no doubt.
"Offering such a pretty flower, just because they heard I was coming. Assuming I would destroy this place." his fingers were slowly caressing your chin. "You must be angry they were so willing to give you to me, are you not?"
You blinked at him, seeing his grin growing.
"Want me to kill them?"
The mumbling immediately died down, the tension now palpable in the air. Sukuna was still staring, watching your every move, even just the glancing of your eyes. You were shaking. But not just out of fear.
"I don't need them to die." You saw how Sukuna raised an eyebrow while there was small sighing behind you, just until you spoke again. "But...
If you did want to kill them, I wouldn't be mad enough to stop you."
The only thing you heard was your own breathing. The people behind you were quiet like they were not even there. You didn't look at them no, you didn't dare to.
Not when the king was looking into your eyes.
Then he let go off your chin and started laughing. Just laughing for an unbearable long time. Time, in which you wondered if you were dead now.
But he just shook his head while his laughter died down.
"Uraume, bring her to the estate." The white haired monk was already by your side. They were looking at him with a curious glance.
"And you my lord?"
"I have a Village to kill."
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Part 2
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tenderwhore · 20 days ago
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"I think I fuck you better than your stupid porn videos, little pervert."
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✿ Word count: 3082
✿ Summary: You were just trying to relieve some tension after an intense study session, without imagining that the person you hated the most in the world would find you in an inappropriate situation.
✿ Content warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!
F!reader x Heeseung, academic rivals, plotless porn, public place masturbation, mention of pornography, rubbing against clothes, PIV, sex in a public place (even though no one sees them), unprotected sex, creampie, Heeseung is a provocateur and talks WAY TOO MUCH, nicknames: (bitch, whore, princess, little pervert), nipple play, compliments (?), Heeseung has a big cock (?).
✿ Note and clarifications: this is probably very bad, since I've never written anything. English is not my first language either, so there are probably many spelling mistakes, in addition to it not being proofread. The main idea came from a spicy AI chatbot, but I couldn't find it SORRY IF IT'S REALLY BAD, DON'T HATE ME
You have always demonstrated your competitiveness because Heeseung has always been ahead in everything, but you... You were always the second, and that bothered you day and night; you hated him for his privileged position, maybe you felt a bit of envy, just a bit.
He pretended to be the ideal guy. Yes, he was charismatic, attractive, insightful, elegant, the class leader, stylish, outstanding in sports, hot... So fucking hot... You definitely hated him.
...
It was approaching 5 PM and, despite the bell having rung about an hour and a half ago, you were still in the classroom because you had a lot of assignments to complete. It had been a day full of responsibilities that had your hair standing on end, so just as you finished your tasks, your body collapsed like jelly in your chair while you let out an exhausted sigh.
You momentarily looked at the ceiling before taking your phone out of your purse and accessing one of your favorite porn sites. It was one of your little favorite pastimes whenever you felt frustrated and just longed for someone to push you against a wall and fuck you until you were utterly spent.
The more you watched, the more you felt your body heating up. As you looked to the sides, you lightly bit your lower lip, making sure there was no one around while you slid your hands over your breasts and abdomen before reaching the hem of your skirt and lifting it, then slipping your fingers into your underwear, lightly brushing your already wet folds.
You adjusted your position in the chair a little more, then lifted your fingers slightly and pressed them against your clitoris, beginning to make circles on it.
You quickly immerse yourself in pleasure, tilting your head slightly back and clenching your jaw to stay silent. Your hips began to rise, seeking greater stimulation. You are so close, your orgasm is creeping up your neck, until you hear a guy ask, "Why do you do it alone when you have me?"
The sound made you jump slightly and stop, bringing your hands to your lap with your face as red as a tomato and your heart racing.
Your orgasmic haze didn't allow you to immediately process whose voice it was, so you searched the room with your hazy eyes until they landed on Heeseung's figure, who was casually standing a few meters away from your body, looking at you with an arrogant smile and his hands in his pockets.
You huff angrily as you close your eyes tightly, readjusting your position in the chair reluctantly and turning off your phone. "Shouldn't you be fucking one of the cheerleaders in the bathroom or something?" Your voice comes out cocky, trying to sound relaxed despite my vulnerable position.
He chuckles softly, advancing serenely towards the classroom with a predatory gleam in his eyes as he approaches you. His imposing figure looms over you. "You always try to get rid of me, don't you? But we both know you don't want that..."
He leans in, placing his hands on your desk, bringing his face closer to yours. While murmuring in a husky voice. "I saw what you were doing, little naughty one. Don't you know it's wrong to give yourself pleasure in a place like this?" He smiles disdainfully as one of his hands slides down to rest possessively on your thigh, squeezing the delicate flesh through your skirt.
You take a deep breath as I shift slightly against the chair. The contrast between his warm palm and the coldness of his rings sends you a shiver down my spine. "Well, I find it more inappropriate to spy on someone while they are enjoying a private moment".
He let out a soft, mocking laugh, without changing his stance towards you. "Private moments? Please, there is nothing private about masturbating while watching pornography in a classroom." His voice comes out deep and the way he speaks feels so disgusting. "And regarding spying on you... Well, let's just say I occasionally keep an eye on you..."
His hand slowly moves up your thigh; the tips of his fingers brush the hem of your skirt. "You are desperate for attention, even if it means getting caught in compromising positions. "It's almost pathetic, really."
He tilted his head and observed your blushing face with a smug smile. "Tell me, have you ever fantasized about someone doing the same things to you as in those videos?"
You swallow nervously as you clench your thighs tightly together in an effort to stop his hand from seeming to sink deeper and deeper between your legs. "Why do you ask? Have you fantasized about being the person who does those things to me?" My voice comes out almost in a whisper.
He easily spreads your legs apart again with a firm grip. "Oh, I've fantasized about many things involving you, like bending you over this very desk and fucking you senseless until you beg for mercy." Your heart almost leaps out of your chest upon hearing his words.
He presses his body against the desk between the two of you, holding you in place while his free hand reaches out to tangle in your hair. He leans towards you and bites your earlobe before whispering, "I've imagined being the one to drive you crazy." He pulls your hair a little harder, making you let out a soft gasp of surprise. He is so close to your face that it seems like he is going to kiss you. "That way, I would show everyone that you're just an envious bitch, always behind me because you need me to fill you up with my cock until you can't take it anymore."
You are so astonished by the simplicity with which he pronounces his perverted and degrading words towards you that you just stand there, looking at him with wide eyes and your heart pounding against your chest.
Realizing that you can only look at him with astonished and embarrassed eyes, he lets out a defeated sigh before releasing your hair and getting up from his position. "You're a fucking coward," he states as he turns around and moves to leave the room. "You're a fucking coward," he says as he turns around and walks away, intending to leave the room.
You feel your blood boil at his words, not because he called you a bitch, a whore, or because he confessed how much he wants to fuck you, but simply because he called you a coward and envious.
You feel your blood boil at his words, not because he called you a bitch, a whore, or because he confessed how much he wants to fuck you, but simply because he called you cowardly and envious.
You stand up from your chair, and the sound of your materials spilling onto the floor due to the force with which you rise causes Heeseung to turn towards you, confused, catching your face red with anger and embarrassment. "What did you call me?" you mutter as you clench your fists at your sides.
Heeseung raises an eyebrow at you. "Bitch?" he questions. "Coward" you correct.
You slowly approach him, trying to look confident, but your steps remain uncertain and trembling.
Once you find yourself standing in front of him, you grab the collar of his shirt, and you smash your lips against his.
He lets out a furious sigh that he didn't know he was holding back before returning the kiss with a suffocating hunger, as he places his hands on your waist and presses your body against his, savoring the way your breasts press against his.
His tongue soon delved deeply into your mouth, savoring your saliva mixed with his, eliciting a gasp from you.
His body began to push you backward, guiding you during the kiss towards the desk. Once there, you pulled away from the kiss, looking at him with narrowed eyes. His beautiful swollen lips, his slightly red cheeks, and the collar of his shirt that was once perfectly arranged are now disheveled.
He smiled; that damn arrogant smile is the same smile he gave you after mocking your intelligence and skills, the same smile he gives when he corrects one of your contributions in class, the same smile he gives after having you tongue-tied.
He leans over, placing his hands on either side of his body on the desk. "Ah, so the little pervert is revealing herself." One of her legs pushed between yours, forcing you to open them and pressing her knee against your center.
"Stop calling me a pervert, idiot", you practically spat in his face.
"I think you're being too pedantic considering I can feel your wet pussy against my leg." To prove his point, he starts pushing his knees against you repeatedly.
The constant rubbing of the fabric of your wet panties against your clitoris makes you tremble and sigh. Unconsciously, your hips move in unison with his leg. "I'm only wet because you interrupted my orgasm a few minutes ago, definitely not because of you", you manage to say before a strong push from his leg makes you moan.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, princess, it was very rude of me to interrupt you; maybe I should make it up to you." He leans towards your neck and starts kissing your neck. Your hands grip his shirt tightly in an attempt to keep yourself grounded.
Something inside you bubbles; the feeling of anger and longing is intoxicating. A part of you just wants to hit him until he cries, but another part of you wants to rip off his pants and suck his cock until he cries. Before you can determine which feeling prevails, his fingers are quickly working on the buttons of your shirt while leaving a trail of wet kisses all over your chest.
He briefly pulls away from your barely covered breasts by your cute bra. "You are beautiful", he declares, completely absorbed. The abrupt change in his words and the tone of his voice make you feel weak; it's as if your body has surrendered to him.
Your hips start moving desperately against him, feeling how occasionally your thigh brushes against his solid erection, which only serves as an incentive to move harder.
One of his hands moves to the small of your back to help you move against him, while the other slides your bra down and frees your breasts. He doesn't resist and brings one of his nipples to his mouth. With force and abundant saliva, causing a bit to escape from his mouth and slide down your chest.
The moans that escape your mouth are dirty, incoherent words. You feel your legs thrashing around his thigh as your orgasm approaches.
"Heeseung..." His name comes out so softly, so gently, barely audible, but he hears it, he definitely hears it. His head quickly turns away from your chest to look at you with the most serious expression you have ever seen on his face. "I... I am close..." You don't understand why you're notifying him, but there's something in his behavior that makes you feel so submissive.
"Let me help you with that." He brings both of his hands forward and lifts your skirt, exposing your completely ruined panties, which makes him laugh. One hand holds your skirt, and with the other, he slips a finger into the hem of your panties to move them aside, allowing your bare clitoris to rub against the fabric of his pants.
It's rough, strange, and delicious. You place all your weight on his legs while you continue chasing your orgasm.
The sight of your small, swollen, and wet clitoris makes him sigh and tense up in his pants. "Come on, go ahead, I want to see that cute pussy ruin my pants."
Her words seem to be enough to make you come with a muffled moan of her name. Your hands grip even tighter against his shirt and you bury your face in his chest in an attempt to muffle your moans.
A few seconds later, when your euphoria dissipated, you slowly withdrew your face from his chest. He reached for your face with one of his hands, gently squeezing your cheeks. "Obviously, this turned out to be more effective than doing it yourself." He stated with a playful tone. "Although... I still haven't had enough fun."
He grabbed you by the shoulders and forced you to turn around and press your face against the desk. "Heeseung." You call him firmly, quickly understanding what he is trying to do.
His hands slide your panties down your legs and lift your skirt until it is rolled up at your waist. "You have a very nice little butt." He gives one of your cheeks a hard slap, making you jump and try to move away from the desk.
"Heeseung, we shouldn't..." You try to plead, but he grabs your hair roughly and pulls your body back towards the desk, exerting an even more intense pressure on your body than before.
"I'm not asking for permission." Then, you only hear the sound of his belt buckle, followed by the sound of his pants falling to the floor.
"I can't wait to fill this hole with my cum." He took his cock between his fingers and tapped its tip against your wet entrance, making his pre-cum mix with your arousal.
He aligns his red, dripping tip against your center. "Yes... It should fill you up so much that when you walk down the halls, my semen slides down your legs", he murmurs more to himself than to you.
His cock slides easily into you because of how wet you are. Once it hits bottom, a guttural moan escapes from both of you, and he throws his head back in pure ecstasy. "And when people notice and question you about it, you'll have to say it was me who went all the way." At this point, he was simply rambling.
You feel like it's piercing your uterus; your walls are incessantly struggling to accommodate its size. "Too, too... Big..." You gasp almost without air as you scratch the desk beneath you.
"Shh... Shh, calm down...". Her hips begin to grind against yours in an animalistic rhythm. "I know it's deep." He whispers in a tone that tries to be comforting.
A hoarse moan flows from his throat, causing you to tighten uncontrollably around him. "You're so fucking tight." He groans. "I should have at least inserted three fingers before fucking you." He was lying; he was fascinated by the almost painful way you squeezed him.
Again, he takes a handful of your hair between his fingers to pull you away from the desk, leaving your back aligned with his chest.
He takes your face in his hand and turns it so that your face is in front of his. What's wrong? "Why don't you say anything anymore?" He gives a particularly deep thrust that makes you moan and grimace with pleasure. "You're always so grumpy, but now that you have a cock inside you, it seems like you can't even think."
When you try to respond, a stream of nonsensical words and gasps comes out of you, making him laugh and his laughter echoes against your back.
"You are so tender" The sweet and affectionate way his words come out of his mouth surprises you so much that you turn your face a little more towards him, looking into his eyes through your lashes wet with some accumulated tears and a fucked-up, but so in-love expression.
His free hand, which isn't holding your face, moves to your lower abdomen, pressing right on the bulge of his cock. You follow him and bring one of your hands to his, intertwining your fingers with his.
The world seems to be completely silent, except for Heeseung's gasps and your sharp moans; you feel nothing else apart from the heat radiating from his body against yours.
He starts leaving wet kisses on your neck. "Fuck, you're so wet, so tight, so beautiful..." You are a bitch perfectly made for me. Growls in your hatred.
Your legs start to tremble; the knot in your stomach tightens even more. "Seungie... I'm close..."
"Yes? Are you going to squeeze your little pussy while you cum really hard on my cock?" he asked with a tone that, under other circumstances, would sound very cocky if it weren't for the pathetic moan that accompanied it.
You just nod desperately, not caring how pathetic you might look right now.
Before you realize it, your walls tighten around Heeseung. "Just like that, cum all over my cock." He pushes your body back onto the desk, pressing your cheek against it
His thrusts are careless and aimless as he chases your orgasm. "I'm going to fill you up so much that I'll leave you ruined for anyone else who tries to sleep with you."
You moan overstimulated as your juices start to drip out of you, creating a completely obscene splashing sound.
"My semen will stay so deep inside you that you'll never be able to get it all out." He presses his chest against your back, crushing your body against the writing. With one final thrust, the head of his cock buries itself in your womb as he spurts.
The sensation of his semen so deeply makes you feel relaxed and yet overwhelmed.
They stay like that for a moment, trying to properly process what just happened. "Get off me, you're suffocating me", you complain with an obvious lack of breath.
Heeseung laughs as he slowly pulls away and slides out, then gently takes you by the shoulders and helps you stand up and turn around so you are facing him.
You try to stand up straight, but your legs tremble and fail, so you almost fall to the ground if he hadn't held you tightly.
"I think I fuck you better than your stupid porn videos, little pervert."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
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buckyalpine · 2 months ago
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His Winter Flower
Modern Beauty and the Beast AU Winter soldier x f reader
Long awaited, I hope you all enjoy it as well.
Word count: 8.9k
Warnings: 18 + Angst, injuries, Fluff, All the sweet smut, Bucky is a sweetheart
"оставаться внизу" [Stay down] The soldier ordered, holding his gun to the targets forehead, his metal finger twitching against the trigger while the man cowered in front of him.
"Please" The man tried to plead but it was no use. He knew his fate was sealed the second he heard the thud of the boots entering his home. The whirring of metal. The ghost people spoke of but never saw until it was too late.
"тишина" [Silence] The soldiers rough voice growled behind the mask that covered his face. He pressed the barrel further into the man's head, freezing when he heard the soft patter of footsteps nearing the office he had broken into.
"Papa?" A soft voice called, the scent of roses and vanilla accompanying it, "Papa, where are y-
You gasped as you entered your father's study, your heart dropping to your stomach seeing him kneeling on the floor with his hands tied while the soldier towered above him.
So the rumors were true.
The silver of his arm was illuminated in the moonlight, the rest of him covered in Kevlar and black leather. Weapons were strapped to every bit of his body but the only one that worried you now was the one that was about to take your father's life.
"Don't hurt him!" It was a futile attempt to save your father, you knew this enough. The Winter Soldier didn't spare anyone, in fact for the longest time you wondered if he was nothing more than an urban legend. No one had actually seen him. Those that did didn't live to speak the tale. The soldier grunted in response, hardly sparing you a glance as he stared at the man before him.
A professor. A brilliant man. One who was quietly working with a group of researchers aiming to destroy the the longtime work of Arnim Zola from so many years ago. No more serums. No more soldiers.
Hydra wouldn't have that.
Not when those very serums created their best asset, the Winter Soldier himself.
"Он моя миссия" [He is my mission] Was the only response you were given. You didn't understand the words he said but it didn't matter; it was quite clear. He didn't intend on sparing the professor.
"Darling, please go, it's okay" Your father shook his head, ready to accept the consequences of his choices. He hoped to aid in the movement of making the world safer and if this was his end, he was prepared to meet it. Tears welled in his eyes with a sad smile on his face, "It'll be alright, go, hurry-
"No, please!" You pleaded with the soldier once again, all you could see were his blue eyes, void of emotion, cold and icy. "If-if you kill him, someone will take his place and then another. My father will no longer help with the government if you spare him and take me. Please just take me instead, it will put an end to all this. Please"
If you kill him, someone will take his place
The words rang through the soldiers mind.
It shouldn't be a problem. He'd killed plenty of people before but...
Then it would be another mission to carry.
And then another.
Another.
The innocent man trapped in his brain screamed to stop. A voice long forgotten, begging him to reconsider. To fight against the words that were causing him to do this. The solider flinched, fighting within himself, contemplating his next actions. The mission was to ensure Arnim Zola's work wouldn't be eradicated. The girl was offering herself to ensure the same work wouldn't continue. He wouldn't have more blood on his hands if he allowed the professor to live.
He shouldn't have cared but a part of him did.
He didn't want to kill another innocent man.
He never wanted to kill anyone.
Your father let out a sigh of relief feeling the weight of the gun pull away, only to have his greatest fear come alive; losing you.
"NO, darling you don't know what you're doing, I'll be fine-
It was too late. The soldier cut through the ropes that bound your father's wrists, taking you instead. Before your father could reach for you, the soldier grabbed and hauled you over his shoulder and strode away, ignoring the plea of the professor to spare his only daughter.
His mind was made up.
She was not his mission but now he had a new one.
If he killed the man, another would take his place.
He was risking repercussions listening to the trapped soul only his mind could hear.
He shouldn't have listened to her words.
He shouldn't have let the professor go.
Yet he agreed.
The gait of the soldier lulled you into a dreamless sleep; exhaustion consumed you as he wandered through a thicket of trees and into the woods far from home. You hadn't spoken a word nor let out a cry as he carried you off, after all, you agreed to be his prisoner as long as you father lived.
-
He brought you to a place he knew no one would find.
A place no one else knew of.
A place that was now his own.
He was once sent to take the life of a wealthy aristocrat, a man who had no one to leave his estate to. The place was deep in a forest, away from most of humanity; even when Hydra had sent him to finish the man, they were unable to give him a location. The soldier had located the target himself only to find the man had already passed from old age.
No questions were asked.
The mission was considered complete.
The body was disposed of and for quite some time, the soldier thought nothing of the castle like place that no one else knew of. It was a secret only he knew and he soon found himself seeking its solitude. A resting place between missions. A place to patch up. A place to hide when his mind was too loud, trying to escape from clutches he didn't understand.
It was the closest place he had to freedom.
The soldier pushed through the heavy wooden doors, entering the dark oak foyer. He stilled, torn between taking you down to the cellar or taking you to the rooms up in the master wing.
How could he chain something so soft.
How could he imprison something so delicate.
His feet began to move towards the large staircase before his mind could process anything, shifting to carry you in his arms as he made his way up to the west wing. He set you down gently onto the large bed with the soft sheets, careful not to stir you. He stared at your sleeping form, unmoving from his place as you softly snored, the choices of his actions beginning to plague his mind.
What was he to do with you now. Why hadn't he gotten rid of you.
He knew the rules; once his job was done, he was to return to the base but he hadn't completed the mission. He had been away for weeks and the longer he was away, the louder the screaming was. The voice of a young sergeant who fought bravely in the war. The pleading young man, scared like a child, trapped in the body of a killing machine. The cries of a little boy trying so hard to runaway from monsters that haunted him every single night. All trapped and begging to escape.
He'd let the professor live.
It was wrong of him.
He disobeyed his orders.
Or perhaps it was the right thing to do.
Though the soldier had been brainwashed, there were times he found himself caught in-between a state of control and chaos. His duties were to Hydra. He knew this was wrong. You shouldn't be here. His task was to continue their vision. He was their asset. He belonged to them.
His tourmiol continued. Why did he spare the professor. Why did he bring the girl and set her down on the softest bed out of all the rooms when he should have chained her in a cell. Exhaustion began to weigh on him but he didn't close his eyes. He didn't allow sleep to consume him. The soldier remained in place even as the sun rose. He watched as you stirred, soft sunlight streaming through the curtains, falling onto your face.
-
You blinked, rubbing sleep from your eyes, a fearful gasp escaping your lips when you saw him sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. A thousand thoughts began to run through your mind at once as you sat up, a part of you surprised to find your hands and legs free from binds. You were atop a plush mattress on a large bed, the room itself surprisingly warm and quaint. Had you not been in a state of terror, you would have taken some time to appreciate the olive green walls and fine paintings that decorated the space as well as the well kept antique furniture.
"Please don't hurt me" You whispered, still disoriented from the night before.
"я не буду" [I won't] He replied, aware you didn't understand him. His lips twitched, all the words of English he wanted to speak dying in his mouth. His mind wouldn't allow it.
It wasn't required for this mission.
You stayed frozen in place while he said nothing else, walking off and closing the door behind him. Tears welled in your eyes as dread began to set in. This was your life now. He could kill you at any moment without warning. In fact, you didn't understand why he hadn't. From the rumours, you knew the soldier never took prisoners. You didn't know why you were spared; the only sliver of joy you had was that your father was alive. You thought about your him as you gathered yourself out of bed, deciding to make the best of your circumstances with the faintest hope that one day you'd be reunited with him again.
You inspected the room the soldier had put you in. There was a vanity across the bed. A walk in closet that only contained a few old sheets. You gasped as you entered the en suite bathroom, white marble tiles covering the floor, a large clawfoot tub, brass and gold accents decorated the handles of the cupboards.
The room was enchanting.
After splashing some water onto your face, you crept into the hallway, padding down to the staircase, surprised again at the beauty of the place. High ceilings. Dark wood. Crystal albeit dusty chandeliers. French doors. Original paintings. It was the type of place you'd imagine when you read fairytales. It would have been the type of place you'd dream to live in; one you'd only imagine in your wildest fantasies where the princess finds her prince. Such stories were only found in books.
You quietly explored the main floor of the mansion and avoiding the rooms which were locked shut. You didn't dare touch a thing, quickly retreating back to your room once you'd seen everything, familiarizing yourself with it's layout. The kitchen. A study. A living room. The hauntinly beautiful hallways. A door to the grounds in the back. You hadn't seen the soldier which both relieved and scared you.
Where did he disappear to?
That night, there was a knock at your door and when you opened it, a plate of warm food was left on a tray. Boiled carrots. Potatoes. A dinner roll. You hadn't even heard his footsteps down the hall. As you peered out of your room, it was empty without the slightest hint that anyone had been there seconds ago.
Where had he gone?
You hadn't realized how hungry you were until you took the first bite, scarfing down the rest in haste, placing the tray back in the hall. The next day was the same. You woke up to find a simple spread of breakfast outside of your room; toast and jam.
The soldier was a man of his word; if you were to be his captive, he had to keep you alive.
At least until he knew what to do with you...
Days had passed and you'd managed to avoid him, keeping to yourself and staying out of his way but you weren't able to avoid him forever.
-
The soldier had already heard you coming, pausing his cleaning as he waited for you to enter. The sight of your trembling form evoked something inside him.
You were scared. He didn't like it.
His mask remained on his face while his blue eyes peered at you, waiting for you to speak.
"I-I need clothes" Your voice was hardly a whisper, body shaking as you approached him, finding him in the study room, parts of his gun in hand. There was nothing wrong with the simple cotton dress you had on though it certainly wasn't comfortable to sleep in every night and you weren't able to wash and it dry within the same day. You needed at least one other set of something to wear. "Please"
He nodded without a word, resuming his cleaning while you retreated to your room. His brows furrowed as he thought about what you'd need. Perhaps it would be easier to return you and finish off the professor or get rid of you both-
No.
No.
He didn't want more blood on his hands.
The foods he stole were already a risk....where would he go for clothes?
-
The next morning, you found a fresh set of clothes left beside your tray of breakfast. You lifted the pile and brought it to your room, munching on the toast that had come with honey instead of jam for a change.
There was a red Henley and some sweatpants. A black t shirt and joggers. A few other basics for you to wear comfortably around the house. You couldn't help but giggle at the very large leather jacket he'd also left in case you felt cold even though there were already plenty of warm blankets. They were very clearly his own clothes but they were all washed and perfectly clean. You couldn't expect him to go shopping for you.
You threw off your dress, taking a long bath before drying off and slipping on the Henley and sweats. They were warm and soft, fitting loosely on your smaller frame, his soft scent of something distinctly him clinging onto the material. It was strange that it didn't bother you. Quite the opposite. It was pleasant, almost comforting.
You wondered about the man behind the mask and who he was. Such a dangerous man who was giving you the clothes off his back, feeding you and keeping you alive even though he'd killed hundreds of others. He was dangerous and yet he looked at you with such softness, you couldn't understand how he'd be capable of hurting anyone.
What was his story?
He hadn't chained you to the bed.
He hadn't locked you in your room.
You were free to go about where you liked.
Surely he wasn't all evil?
As you grew more accustomed to your living arrangement, you decided to inspect more of the kitchen. You hadn't been told you couldn't cook; even if the soldier didn't kill you, boredom eventually would. You needed something to pass the time and he had disappeared yet again.
You opened the fridge and pantries surprised to find a few fruits and vegetables stocked up. An untouched sack of flour and bag of sugar sat at the bottom of the shelves. Who knew the winter soldier enjoyed plums so much? There were a few pots and pans as well as basic kitchen utensils. You didn't need much to make a simple meal, careful not to make a mess as you began to peel some carrots.
-
The soldier blinked as he entered the house, the smell of food wafting throughout, a smell he hadn't come across in a long time.
Home.
There was a pot of stew left on the stove along with a pie left to cool on the counter. His eyes widened at the way his stomach grumbled; it had been years since he'd truly felt hunger. He ate for sustenance. Raw, uncooked, at most boiled food to keep him going. When he was with Hydra, he was fed with a tube.
Just basic nutrients to keep him alive.
He hadn't had a home cooked meal in years.
-
You woke up the next morning to find a pastry at your door instead of toast. When you wandered into the kitchen, you smiled at the tiny crumbs left pie tin and the now empty pot of stew. There were also newly stocked ingredients waiting for you; berries, potatoes, somehow even a whole chicken. You got to work, deciding to try something new each time; each night a warm meal awaited the soldier along with something sweet at the end.
He continued to bring you breakfast but there were only so many different pastries and cakes he could nick, besides they didn't compare to yours.
It wasn't enough. The soldier frowned at the strange feelings he had within himself.
He wanted to do something for you.
He wasn't sure what. He smuggled a handful of cookies you'd baked that morning into his room before removing his mask and savoring each once. He didn't leave a crumb behind, licking the remnants of chocolate off his lips while his mind wandered. You didn't have to cook for him. In fact you had every right to try and escape from him but you never did. He recalled the number of bookshelves that lined your home, after all he'd taken note of every detail as part of his mission.
You liked to read.
-
You sat up when you heard a knock at your door, the soldier waiting on the other side. He looked at you with a softness you hadn't seen previously, turning around and walking down the hall, hoping you'd follow him.
You stayed a few feet behind, trailing after him as he led you to the living room, leading you to the large bookshelf. He wordlessly stood by it, the strange sensation of nervousness and anxiety bubbling within him when you looked at what he wanted to show you.
Would you like it? You looked so unsure, scared. Perhaps you wanted to be free, you wanted to leave, you-
"M-May I?"
He blinked hearing your voice, nodding, watching your eyes light up as you scanned the various book titles. Gasps of joy and little squeals of delight escaped your lips as you came across stories you adored.
That wasn't the only thing that made his heart beat faster. Seeing you in his clothes stirred something in him. You were dressed in his red Henley, the hem reaching mid thigh. He was pulled away from admiring you as you squeaked, seeing one of your favorite books from when you were a little girl, a first edition no less.
"How did you get all these" You were in absolute awe, lost in your own world while he pondered how he came to own such treasures. Perhaps he was always a soldier gone rogue. His missions came with a side of thievery when he'd see something that would catch his eye. Something that would spark a memory of sorts, such as an old book he'd seen as he passed an vintage bookstore. Soon, the shelves of the mansion were filled with books and trinkets he'd collected. A part of his brain would nearly break itself to try and connect to the things he'd collect, only for the memories to fail to fall into place.
His mind felt like a pile of shreds from different cloths; pieces that would never fit together again. His little treasures were the closest he'd ever get to remembering, a few sparks from the past that would forever be disconnected.
-
Ever since the soldier had shown you the shelves of books, you'd left your room more often, spending more time reading after cooking. In a strange way you also began to trust the very masked man who had taken you away. You didn't worry about him hurting you. You no longer worried about running into him. He hardly spoke, nothing more than a few words of Russian. He hadn't demanded you stay locked in your room, so why did you?
You picked up one of your favorite books, deciding to read outside in the garden, in need of some fresh air. You hadn't taken much time to look at the outside of the house, pausing as you opened the doors that entered the grounds. It was strangely beautiful, especially considering the assassin who resided in it. For such a dark soul, nature still continued to flourish around it. Tall, overgrown hedge fences surrounded the backyard while weeping willows and bushes of flowers shaded the stone paths that led to a fountain in the very center. You found a comfortable spot under the tree, settling onto the cool grass, the scent of spring calming you as you turned to the first page.
-
The soldier trudged through the doorway, surprised at the way his appetite had grown since you'd started cooking. His body which was used to sustaining itself on the bare minimum now rumbled through the day. He'd find his mind wandering to your pies and craving the comfort of the soup you'd make. The food was set in the kitchen but you were nowhere to be found. He walked past your room, knocking on the door, only to be met with silence.
Where did you go? Did you run away?
He knew something was wrong when he felt his heart sink because he couldn't find you. He couldn't remember the last time his heart felt anything other than emptiness. It was more than just you escaping.
He was worried about you.
He took longer strides as he searched for you with purpose, fingers already itching to reach towards his gun, deciding to first check the grounds in the back. His heart settled when he saw the doors to the garden left ajar, finding you nestled in the shade, curled up in the grass with a book.
You were safe. You hadn't run away.
Again he was left stunned and unable to move. You were the final piece in the puzzle of the garden; you fit there like the perfect flower. He'd seen the garden 100 times before and it had never looked so beautiful.
Not until now.
Roses and daisies grew in abundance but you were the prettiest thing there. You were meant to be there; a soft, delicate, flower.
"цветок"
You set down the book you were reading, looking up to see the soldier peering down at you. You hadn't heard him coming as he appeared before you with the silence of a ghost.
"цветок" He repeated, gazing at you before looking towards a daisy. He kneeled, plucking one and handing it to you, "цветок. мягкий, как ты" [Flower. Soft, like you]. You felt your cheeks heat up as he looked at you intently, blinking with an innocence you hadn't seen before. He looked almost...shy?
"Thank you" You whispered, stroking the petal of the flower he gave you. You didn't understand why you longed for him to stay as he went back inside, your curiosity about him growing with each passing day.
It went on like this.
Most days, you would spend your time exploring the trinkets the soldier collected, staying out of his way while he disappeared into the forest to do things you didn't pry into. Each night you knew he would return, hearing the heavy creak of the doors open during the darkest hours. You'd hear the quiet sound of clinking cutlery and then the soft sound of his bedroom door shut.
Except tonight.
You set down your book hearing the sound of heavy boots dragging down the hall, quite different from the silence the soldier usually moved with. A sense of dread washed over you as you debated on staying put, something telling you to lock the door, hide, something-
"What do we have here" The click of your door opening sent shivers down your spine, your blood running cold as a man strode in, a metal mask covering his face showing nothing but his eyes. You wanted to scream but your voice was stuck in your throat, you felt safe with the soldier, this man was not the same, he lunged towards you, knife in hand, the blade swiping towards your neck, "The soldiers little pet"-
"DON'T TOUCH HER" A growl shook the window as you hugged your knees to yourself waiting for the knife to plunge but it never came. You gasped as the man was ripped away, the flash of silver gleaming as the soldier grabbed him and hauled him away, shutting the door behind him.
"You're weak. You were supposed to kill him"
"So this is what's been keeping you"
"Kill her and come back to us. That's an order"
"Rumlow-
"Kill her. They're nothing more than collateral damage, end them, желание-
You didn't dare move, tears spilling down your cheeks as you heard the sounds of a struggle growing further and further away, eventually melting into silence.
He saved you.
You heard him return, still frozen in fear but the sound of a pained whimper pulled you out of bed. You peered into the hall, eyes widening in horror seeing a trail of blood staining the floors leading to his room, streaks of crimson smeared onto the wall. You didn't think twice as you dashed out of your room to his, your body moving faster than your mind could comprehend as you let yourself in.
Your heart continued to race seeing the blood lead to the washroom where he stood with a needle in hand, beginning to sew a gash on his side across his ribs. His bloodied tactical gear was thrown on the floor though his mask still remained hoping to silence himself as he attempted to take care of himself.
He hissed in pain, piercing his skin while his head began to spin, multiple wounds needing attention, the blood loss starting to take its toll.
"Let me" you hesitated to touch him, going against your better judgement when you wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his hand away. The soldier shook his head, fighting the way his body craved for something more gentle, more caring, more loving than the jagged and painful stitches he was giving himself.
"I won't hurt you, soldat" you looked in his eyes with such sincerity, for a moment he thought he'd ask you to be his girl.
Such a doll...
One he'd take dancing...
Call you darlin' with that Brooklyn drawl...
He blinked at the fleeting memory, a whimper escaping his lips when you dabbed his gash with an alcohol soaked cotton ball. You blew across the cut to soothe the pain before taking the needle and carefully stitching him up with a feather light touch.
"There" You whispered after taking care of the awful injuries that littered his body, leading out of the bathroom to lie down so he could rest. You didn't dare ask what had happened as you looked around the room; though there was a large bed with the softest sheets and finest materials but the makeshift pallet on the floor was clearly where he chose to sleep at night. He collapsed from exhaustion, falling into a deep sleep while you remained by his side.
You watched the rise and fall of his chest, occasionally glancing over the dressings you'd put to see if blood had seeped through. You couldn't bring yourself to leave him alone, only getting up to see if you could find a sheet to drape cover yourself with in the cold room. As you removed the blanket that covered the bed, something caught your eye in the mostly untouched room.
A wooden box, carefully tucked away in the furthest corner of the room. There wasn't any dust on it, compared to the other pieces of furniture that were never used. It was something he very clearly wanted to keep a secret. His other treasures that were out in the open on the shelf were different from this.
Even the soldier had secrets.
Your curiosity got the best of you as you made your way to the corner, lifting the box as silently as you could so you didn't wake him, inspecting its contents.
Newspaper articles, some decades old.
Old photographs.
One of a young man.
The eyes.
Those blue eyes you'd become so familiar with.
James Buchanan Barnes.
A brave soldier who fought in the war. A young man, no, a boy, drafted to war, his life ripped away from him, leaving him for dead in an icy forest. You blinked back tears at the innocence the young Sergeants eyes held, bright and heroic, hoping to help in a fight that wasn't his. Scribbles on scrap pieces of paper read "I am James Buchanan Barnes" repeatedly.
Your could feel your heart break into tiny little fragments as you pieced together what happened to the boy from Brooklyn, he had his whole life ahead of him but-
A pained scream tore from his lungs, his eyes squeezed shut as you knelt by his side again, brows furrowed together. You looked over his injuries, everything was still in place but he sounded like he was being tortured. He tossed around, his screams melting into sobs, pleading for someone to stop.
"James?" You hesitated to use his real name, your hushed voice made him flinch in his sleep but it wasn't enough to pull him as he begged for the painto end. He didn't want to lose his memories again. He wanted to remember. Please?
"You're alright James" You cooed softly, running your fingers through his locks while tears continued to stream down his face, lost in a nightmare. "You're not alone"
You were careful not to scared him awake, your gentle ministrations soothing him, his cries coming to a stop. You wiped away the remnants of tears that fell against his cheek, some slipping beneath the mask he refused to remove. You didn't have in you to take it off, not without asking him first. His soft snores filled the room once again as the sun began to rise.
-
He stirred feeling a strange warmth surrounding his body blinking in confusion when he found soft sheets draped over him. The usual sting he'd feel after stitching himself up was nearly non existent. He ran his fingers along the gash, the neat little sutures still in place, covered with a bandage to protect the area. Bits and pieces of the night came to him in waves.
Running into his captors. Evading them. Escaping. The bloodshed. The weapons. The injuries. The pain.
However, there was also softness. Such tenderness. The touch of an angel he'd only be able to imagine in his wildest dreams that would never come true. Not for someone like him. Such sweetness. God, he'd missed it. He missed what such love and care felt like. It was so foreign to him. He was so used to the cold. Razor sharp, jagged edges. He'd forgotten so many things but the longer he kept to himself, the more that came back to him.
You called him by his name. He was sure of it. In the muddled fog of nightmares, he was sure he heard an angel call.
He knew he was in no condition to move or get you breakfast but the delicious smell of your cooking wafted through the halls letting him know it was okay for him to rest. He closed his eyes, flinching at the few prickles of pain he felt in his head.
You were there.
You'd take care of him.
He couldn't remember everything just yet but surely the puzzle pieces would fall into place soon.
-
"NO" The sound of the soldiers pained cry made you drop the book you were reading in your room, running off to find him. He'd fallen asleep after eating what you made for him that evening; you were sure he was getting better. He knelt on the floor, sweat covering his body as he gripped his hair, pulling from the roots. He felt another sharp piercing pain in his head, fleeting memories of things he didn't understand all flooding back at once.
You rushed to his side, taking his hands into yours to keep him from hurting himself. His eyes shot up, tears threatening to spill over, all the things he thought were lost forever coming back together.
He was a Sergeant.
A soldier.
A young man.
One who loved to go dancing.
One who wanted to help others.
Hydra turned him into a beast but you brought him back.
There was always something about you.
His sweet flower.
He relaxed feeling your soft fingers trace against his palms in hopes of grounding him, giving both his flesh and metal hands equal affection. He gently pulled his right hand away to remove the mask, letting you see all of him.
"Soldat?" You whispered, hesitantly brining your hand up to his scruffy cheek. He pressed his hand against yours, leaning into the warmth of your touch, he never wanted it to end.
"цветок" [flower] he whispered back, your eyes widening hearing the precious name he had just for you, "It's me, flower"
"James?" You knew it was no longer the soldier speaking, this was the little boy from Brooklyn, his piercing blue eyes now full of warmth and light.
"Your father, I have to take you home, flower I'm so sorry-" dread began to consume him as he realized how long he'd taken you for, trading one life for another, how could he-
"James, breathe" You held his face in your hands, wiping away the tears that began to fall, your hand coming down the rest against his erratic heart, "It wasn't your fault, I-I read what happened to you, you were taken, it was never you, you're a good person" You soothed his aching heart but it didn't ease how heavy it felt. Every part of him wanted to beg for you to run away, so far away from him so you could be home again yet his arms moved on their own, wrapping you up and holding you close, you fit so perfectly with him.
"I'm still a broken man, цветок" Bucky whispered with a sad smile, holding you with such care as you curled up in his lap. "I don't think I deserve to hold something as sweet as you"
"You're not broken, you deserve this and more" You cooed, inhaling his soft scent, your nose brushing against the column of his neck.
"You took care of me, flower" Bucky held you tighter, hiding his face into the crook of your neck, feeling safe for the first time in years, home had never felt closer.
"And you took care of me" Your fingers moved to card through his hair, pulling his face away so he'd look at you.
"I took you with me, doll" He couldn't shake the fact that he'd taken you from your father, first intending to kill him and then taking you in his place. "I didn't give you a choice, you should be home" The guilt ate him from the inside, if he'd been himself, he would have never-
"And you still protected me with your life" You whispered, your forehead resting against his.
"And I always will" Bucky promised, his lips brushing against yours. He meant it from the bottom of his soul, he'd always protect you no matter where you were. It didn't matter that he didn't want you to leave, that he wished you could stay, he knew you belonged elsewhere. He'd still always make sure you were safe. Exhaustion began to pull at him, his eyes growing heavy as his body continued to fight what Hydra wanted him to do and the man he really was.
"Sleep, Jamie" You pulled him down to lay on your chest, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead and for the first time in years, he slept soundly without a nightmare.
Over the next few days, you continued to nurse the soldier back to health, hushing him each time he plead for you to go, insisting he'd be okay to manage on his own.
"My body will heal, I promise, you don't have to do all this for me, let me take you home-
"Once you're all better. I'll write to him so he knows I'm safe" You pressed a finger to his pink lips before going back to tucking him in bed. It was true that the cuts had all cleared up exceptionally quicker than normal but you could see the mental exhaustion that plagued him each day.
He found a way to get in touch with your father without alerting anyone in Hydra from finding him and while your father graciously forgave him with understanding, nothing felt easier. He promised to return you home as soon as it was safe but the longer he spent with you, the more he selfishly wished for it to last forever. He promised your father he'd take care of you in every way possible but he knew it was truly you taking care of him.
He'd sleep soundly when you were near, falling asleep quickly when you'd read to him, sometimes softly playing with his hair so he'd relax. The few times he'd been alone, the awful memories would come flooding back leaving him confused and disoriented. It broke your heart hearing him cry, the soldier who was nothing but a killing machine truly an innocent man on the inside, a prisoner of his own mind.
You'd comfort him every single time, every moment more intimate than the next. It started with your soothing voice, sitting by his bed where you'd call his name, your fingers caressing the scruff of his beard, wiping away his tears. Then the nights came where you crawled into bed with him, helping him fall asleep with his head on your lap only to wake up with your limbs tangled together.
Then he started to hold you before he was asleep. He held you tightly while telling you stories about things he could remember. Things that made him smile. That his nickname was Bucky. You would do the same. You told him about all the things your father taught you. He'd start to kiss you goodnight. Innocently with a peck to the top of your head.
Sometimes your cheek.
He so badly wanted to kiss your lips, stopping himself when he felt his stomach stir, especially when your sweet doe eyes looked up at him. When he cuddled you, his arms would wrap around your body, his hands finding their way to the hem of the Henley you wore. His henley. His fingers would slip up to feel your skin, knowing such an angel was real grounded him. You'd do the same, tracing over his scars, neither of you openly talking about the growing tension between you both each day.
-
"Will you read to me?" Bucky asked, wrapping his arms around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder while you stirred some honey into the tea you were making. You giggled at his needy cuddles, his much larger form practically engulfing you from behind. "Please"
"Who'd have thought such a strong, scary soldier would want bedtime stories" you cooed, letting him carry you away to his room, making a stop at the bookshelf first to pick out a new story.
He settled against the headboard with you tucked in his lap, relaxing at you made yourself comfy between his thighs. Your words had an affect on him he couldn't describe, no longer paying attention to what you were saying and instead watching the movement of your lips. Your eyes darting across the pages. Your body pressed against his.
The butterflies started again.
His stomach stirred.
He tried to adjust himself, pulling you into a hug to calm himself down, ignoring the way he wished he could have more.
"You alright, Jamie?" you asked, feeling his squirming, his eyes growing wide as if he'd been caught red handed. He shook his head, insisting you continue reading, God he didn't know what to do with himself.
He fidgeted again, this time trying to keep you off the tightness growing more and more, you made it so difficult for him-
"Are you sure you're okay bub?"
"I don't remember much but-I-I know I want you closer, flower" His voice was shy, his adams apple nervously bobbing in his neck as he shifted, unable to hide the hardness between his legs. His mind was a mess, fragments of love and intimacy struggling to piece themselves together yet he knew enough to want to hold you close.
He wanted to feel your soft skin on his.
He wanted to kiss you in places that would make your cheeks warm.
Where you'd want to cover yourself but let him have you, just him.
He wanted to feel your hands touch him everywhere. He wouldn't flinch at your delicate ministrations, he'd give all of himself to you. He'd trust you in his most vulnerable state, feeling things he hadn't for years, so heavy between his legs.
"How much closer, Jamie" you couldn't meet his eyes, gripping onto his t-shirt instead, setting the book on the nightstand, now all your attention on him.
"You know, angel" He let his nose bury into your hair, the blush on his cheeks travelling to his neck. He couldn't bring himself to actually say what he wanted, hesitantly moving his hands to your hips instead, slipping up your shirt to hold your waist. "Can-can I kiss you?"
He could hardly recognize himself, nervous beyond comprehension, his heart racing when you nodded, cupping his cheek to look at you. He leaned down to press his lips to yours.
"More" You let your body melt into his, his tongue lacing with yours, deepening the kiss. He didn't pull away until he desperately needed air, no longer able to contain his arousal.
"M'sorry angel, s'been so long, my body's not the same-
"Don't. Don't you dare, I adore you just like this Sergeant" He sucked in a breath as you toyed with the hem of his shirt, nodding after a moment letting you take it off. You kissed every scar on his chest, your head resting on his shoulder where metal met flesh, "You're the most handsome, beautiful man," You kissed his neck making him hiss, your tummy jumping at the feeling of his erection now pressed right against you, "You deserve all of this"
"Can I see you, please?" He undressed you with such care as if he was unwrapping the most precious present, first laying you down before slipping your top off. You wordlessly undressed each other until there was nothing left to take off going right back to wrapping your body with his.
"You're the softest thing I've ever touched" He whispered, loving how you felt, your thigh hitched over his hip, your breasts pressed against his bare chest, your soft tummy against the hard planes of his abs, your hands rubbing up and down his spine, oh God your silky most sacred parts absolutely soaking his length. His body moved on its own, rutting up to chase more, his cock slotting so perfectly with his flushed tip rubbing against your clit.
The desperate moan he let out made you gush, seeing how lost he was in chasing how good you felt with the stutter of his hips.
"M'so hard" He whined, hugging you tightly, "Please angel, do something" It was the most delicious torture. You pulled away from his hold wanting to give him every bit of loving he deserved, giving his body the pleasure it had been deprived of. You shuffled to kneel between his legs, his eyes growing wide, your face so dangerously close to where he was achingly hard. There was no way, you weren't going to- your lips pressed a gently kiss to his frenulum and the tears started, you wouldn't give him more than this-
"Baby, oh God, no, no, I can't angel, oh God-OHH" He cried, his body splayed wide for you, bach arching off the bed as you took his swollen cockhead into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his circles, licking every bit of his essence that dripped out. Your face was between his legs, his cock was in your mouth, you were suckling off his most sensitive parts, how could he not spread his thighs apart further for you. He'd never been so open or vulnerable, letting you play and toy with his cock, his tears soaking the pillow at his balls started to pull towards his body, it couldn't be over so soon-
"Sweet baby, please, please-" He pulled you off his cock, bringing you up to smash his lips against yours, his thick length slapping against his tummy. He could have sworn he was close to cumming just tasting himself on your tongue. "Can-please I want to-" He scrambled to lay you against the pillows as you squeaked at the way he manhandled you in desperation, "please"
He was between your thighs, sighing with heart eyes as he carefully spread your folds with his fingers, taking his time smearing around your slick, your throbbing clit begging for his mouth. He latched on like a baby, nursing with the most needy gurgles, your gasp melting into a moan making his eyes roll back.
He couldn't believe he had his mouth on his pretty angel, his tongue toying with the precious parts between her legs, letting him taste her, drinking up her nectar, feeding him in the best way possible.
"I-oh-slow down baby, please, M'gonna- You gasped, feeling surges of pleasure already pulsing as he flicked his tongue with precision, his arms wrapping around your thighs, tossing them over his wide shoulders.
"Mph, cum" he whined before diving in for more, greedily humping and grinding against the mattress, how was he supposed to last like this.
"Want-want to feel you, please" You begged, needing him inside you, giving you something thick and hard to cum on. He didn't waste a second, shakily clambering back on top of you, nervously positioning himself at your entrance.
"You sure, sweet girl? I-it's been so long"
"I trust you" You pulled him down to kiss his reddened nose making him blush, letting out the breath he was holding as he started to push. You both moaned together as he buried himself all the way, stilling once he was flush against you, his orgasm already so close to shooting at the base of his cock.
"Hng, I needed this angel" He didn't move and you didn't need him to, just the feeling of him stretching and filling you fulfilling something you couldn't describe. You loved the feeling of you both being connected in the most intimate way, joined as one, it felt so right like he was finally where he was meant to be. Like he'd found his everything.
Your thighs moved to hug his waist, your arms around his shoulders. He drew his hips back and thrusted forward gentle, the gasp escaping your lips urging him to keep going. He started to move at a steady pace, bringing his hands to lace with yours, pinning them against the bed.
"I love you-even if I have no right, I love you so much" Bucky lost himself to you, his hips moving at a slow grind, letting every inch of his cock fill and caress your walls, "You showed me love when I least deserved it"
"Fuck, I love you too!" You cried out, the curls at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, sending you higher and higher. "Oh, James!"
"My God, the way you say my name when m'inside you, say it again baby, please" He started to move faster on his own accord, primal urges starting to take over as he began to chase his pleasure and yours.
"Please, James, feels-feels so good"
"Gonna make me cum so hard, the things y'do to me baby, drives me crazy, wanna be like this for the rest of my life, making love to you and nothing else, swear this is all I want"
"James, gonna-gonna cum"
"Cum with me angel, all over my cock baby, cum on it, wanna feel it, please give it to me, I need it. Need your sweet cream all over me, fuck-yeah-jus like that-" You clenched around his cunt, his name dripping from your lips as your orgasm crashed over you. That was all it took as he tucked his face right against your neck, holding you tight as he trembled, it was so much,
"M'cumming!!" His sob was muffled as his cock throbbed, warm streams of his cum pumping you full, his ass stuttering with each jerk of his hips. "So-so much for you, s'all for you angel"
Bucky made love to you everywhere, not one place left without him taking you apart to his heart's content, including the garden. The story you were reading was long forgotten as he took you under the shade of the tree, the long wispy branches of the willow tree hiding you from the rest of the world.
The summer sun cocooned you in a blanket of warmth as clothes were all tossed aside leaving you both bare on the sheet you'd spread on the grass, the sounds of the breeze, the rustle of the bushes and your moans blending in so perfectly with his rhythmic thrusts.
"Beautiful" he whispered against your cheek, pulling away so he could look at every bit of you, "So beautiful for me like this"
"Jamie, stop" You grew bashful, you knew no one could see you in your secluded spot so deep in the forest but you still felt so vulnerable, spread out naked with just his body covering you, shamelessly taking his cock while the afternoon sun hung in the sky.
"S'just us baby, just you and me, don't worry" He purred, bringing your arms up, holding your wrists in his metal arm while his flesh hand came down to caress your face. "We're not doing anything wrong darling, m'showing you how much I love you, how good you make me feel, yeah?"
"Yeaah" Your voice melted into a breathy whine as he started to move with more purpose, his warm breath fanning against your face.
"Lookit how pretty you are sweet girl, my pretty flower, you were meant to be here baby, feels so right, just like this"
Out of all the stories and poetry you'd read to him, this was what Bucky saw as true art. He'd seen the finest paintings around the world in the richest houses, guarded by the highest security. He'd seen nature's most incredible wonders with the tallest trees, the sweetest flora and nothing, absolutely nothing, would top how gorgeous you were, bare, on the grass, him filling you up, it was euproic.
The image was etched in his brain, he'd treasure it forever. Your shy moans. The clench of your cunt. The way he filled you up and kept his cock in you even after it was soft. The way you cuddled and kissed in a post sex haze, listening to the sounds of the forest. He could have cried at the way you fell asleep in his arms, so trusting for him to keep you safe.
This was all he needed.
He took care of you, keeping you protected while he did his best to eradicate Hydra with you to patch him up each time he came home. As soon as it was safe, he took you right home and under the care of your father, he healed from the words that held him captive.
It didn't take long for your home to be filled with the sounds of tiny feet mixed with the sounds of science experiments gone wrong; your little babies, their daddy and their papa getting up to mischief at all hours.
"Careful, flower" Bucky shook his head, running towards you as you waddled into the living room with an expression of concern on your face, cocking an eyebrow when you saw your son looking up at you with bug eyed goggles matching his papa.
Bucky came to steady you, his hands coming to wrap around your growing belly while your father and son continued to tinker away at a new creation.
"How are my princesses" He cooed while you huffed, still wondering what they were doing.
"We're both wondering what you're going here James"
"Papa's building me a rocket-
"A bicycle! Just a bicycle darling, go sit, son why don't you take her for a walk" You father ushered you and Bucky out, sending a wink to his grandson.
"A bicycle my foot" You shook your head while Bucky took you to the kitchen, setting a pot of water, ready to dote on you as usual.
"He gets that side of him from you, love" Bucky chuckled, coming down to kiss your belly, resting his head there. "Just wait until she's here too"
"You're a menace, Sergeant"
"You married me, darling" Bucky pouted making you giggle, cupping his face to kiss his jutting lips.
"and I love every bit of you"
"I love you more, pretty girl"
You would always be his flower.
2K notes · View notes
hanniebaeee · 23 days ago
Text
Mr. CEO
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Chris Bang x fem!reader
Warnings: Extremely adorable Hyunjin - other than that, nothing.
Genre: colleagues to lovers, flufff
Summary: Chris Bang shouldn't be feeling anything for you - you're only an employee in his company. But a very pretty and extremely brilliant one. And Chris is head over heels in love with you. And then there is Hyunjin - your best friend.
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Chris didn’t know when it started, exactly. He's seen you during meetings and things a lot, especially since his new office was on your floor and he had a nice clear view of your seat.
He knew you were smart and really good at your job. He didn't really dwell on a pretty face, that's not him. Until one day, he saw you laugh. 
It wasn’t just a polite chuckle or a giggle. No, this was you - head thrown back, cheeks flushed, and laughter bubbling out like you in the purest form. You were leaning against Hyunjin, as usual, your hand casually resting on his thigh while his head bumped against yours as he laughed with you.
Chris froze.
He felt a sudden tightness in his chest - you were breathtakingly beautiful. How did he not see that before? But along with that crept up something else - an inexplicable irritation at seeing how comfortable you were with Hyunjin.
He didn’t have anything against Hyunjin. The guy was a genius, even if he was a little too loud and touchy for Chris’s taste. But the way you leaned into him? The way Hyunjin’s smile was just for you? It screamed couple. 
Chris tried to tell himself it didn’t matter. You were off-limits. Clearly taken. Clearly happy. 
But none of that helped him stop his train of thoughts about how good you looked when you're concentrating on something. Head tilted, exposing the delicate line of your neck. Or the way you gave him a small smile or a nod when you passed him in the hallway. 
It was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. But the more he tried to shove his thoughts aside, the more they clung to him like a curse.
“Get a grip,” he muttered to himself. “She’s with Hyunjin. You’re her boss. She’s off-limits.”
The worst part? You were completely so lost in Hyunjin, you didn't have a chance to notice your boss's slow agonizing downfall. Imagine walking into the lobby and seeing Hyunjin tying your damn scarf for you one evening because “it’s cold, you dummy.”
Chris wanted to punch a wall. Or Hyunjin. Or himself, even.
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So, it's only natural that when he overheard two girls talking about you and Hyunjin, he stopped short.
“I just don’t get it,” one of them was whispering.  “How are they not dating?”
Chris froze, his hand hovering over the coffee pot.
“I know, right?” another voice said. “I’d bet money they’re secretly together.”
“I mean, come on. It’s so obvious.”
“I dunno, Hyunjin says they’re just best friends. And yet he turned me down.”
Chris blinked. So you weren't dating?
His heart did something stupid - like a backflip or maybe a somersault - and for the first time in months, he allowed himself to hope.
So the next thing he did was procrastinate. For weeks - just dying on the inside a little bit every time you did something that made Hyunjin drape himself over you. But then, enough was enough and he decided it was time to get to the bottom of this. 
Chris didn’t breathe a word all day. Not while he watched you work. Not when you bickered with Hyunjin over lunch about that questionable mush he was eating (it was disgusting, in his opinion, but he wasn’t about to wade into that battle). And not when you breezed past him later that day, looking miffed, muttering a quick hello on your way.
By the time five o’clock rolled around, Chris had convinced himself he was going to die if he didn’t say something.
He caught you in the hallway, calling your name. You paused, bag slung over your shoulder.
“Yeah, boss?”
Chris winced. That title was a cruel reminder of how completely out of his league you should be. But there was little respect in the way you said it. He knew you were teasing him.
But he’d come this far.
“I-” He cleared his throat. God, why was this so hard? He made multi-million-dollar deals without breaking a sweat.
This? This was excruciating.
You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head like you were about to tease him again. He racked his brain for a good enough line to throw your way. How do you ask girls out? Has he never done this before? Oh sorry, no. He was busy becoming a CEO. 
“I like you.” There. He said it.
You blinked. Once. Twice. Then your lips parted as if you were about to say something, but nothing came out.
“I mean, I more than like you. I-” He ran a hand through his hair, looking absolutely terrified. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for months, and I know I’m your boss, and this is probably wildly inappropriate. Oh my God, is this workplace harassment? I don't mean to…but I can’t-”
He was freaking out.
“Chris.”
Your voice was soft, but it stopped his rant instantly.
You took a step closer, a small smile appearing on your face now.
“Are you trying to tell me you’re in love with me?” you asked, and Chris faltered.
He exhaled sharply, like the word itself had taken the wind out of him. “Yeah.”
You just stared at him, and for a horrifying moment, he thought he’d completely misread everything. Maybe he’d just ruined everything. You were going to report him. His mum was going to kill him. 
“Pick me up at seven on Friday.”
Chris blinked. “What?”
“For our date,” you said, your grin widening. “I'll text you my address.”
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water.
“Yeah.. Wha-” He was dying. 
You laughed, and said, “You heard me, boss. Don’t be late.”
And with that, you walked out, leaving Chris standing there like an idiot, his heart pounding in his chest and his cheeks burning. He walked back to his office like a zombie, and sat down in his chair, staring blankly at his desk.
He had a date with you. You liked him back.
“Holy shit,” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair.
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As soon as you stepped out of the office, your heart still hammering from Chris’s confession, you quickly called Hyunjin, your hands shaking uncontrollably. He picked up on the first ring.
“Why do I feel like you’re about to emotionally dump all over me?” His voice had immediate calming effects on you. 
“Get your skinny ass outside,” you hissed into the phone. “Right now.”
Two minutes later, Hyunjin was striding out of the building, his tie loosened. 
“Are you ok-”
“He asked me out.”
Hyunjin stopped mid-step, blinking. “What, who?”
“Christopher Bang!” you burst out, your hands flailing. “He just - he said he likes me, and and and-”
Hyunjin’s mouth dropped open and you grip at his warm hands with your icy ones.
“Are you kidding me?” he howled, his eyes flashing with excitement. “I knew it! I told you he had the hots for you! I told you! And you were all, ‘No, Hyunjin, he’s just my boss. He doesn’t like me like that.’”
You narrow your eyes at the way he was imitating you and smack his shoulder.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” He grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Now tell me everything. Was it romantic? Did he stutter? Please tell me he stuttered.”
“Hyunjin!”
---
Chris arrived to pick you up for your date at 7:00 PM, sharp. He looked devastatingly handsome in a tailored black suit, his perfectly styled hair gleaming under the soft light of the porch. And he held out a massive bouquet of the deepest red roses you’d ever seen.
“Hey,” he said, his voice soft but so deep, that it had your heart fluttering.
“Hi,” you breathed, trying to ignore the way your stomach was doing all kinds of flips.
He held the bouquet towards you, his cheeks tinged with the faintest pink.
“Thank you, Chris” You said, taking them and inhaling the sweet scent.
His lips quirked into a tiny smirk, the kind that made you want to kiss it right off his face. He stepped inside and watched as you put the flowers in a vase real quick, before turning to him and saying, “Let’s go, Mr. CEO.”
And just as you thought, it was truly unforgettable. Chris was the perfect gentleman - engaging, funny, and so incredibly attentive that it was hard to believe this was the same man who struck fear into the hearts of board members. And every time you caught him staring at you with those soft, adoring eyes, you felt your heart race.
And the best part? Watching this big, muscled man melt into a puddle every time you smiled at him.
By the time he pulled up in front of your apartment, and walked you to your door, you know the poor man is doing his best to behave.
“Well,” he said, his voice a little husky, “I had a great time tonight.”
“Me too,” you replied, your cheeks warming under his gaze.
There was a beat of silence, and you could see his fingers twitching at his sides, his lips parting like he was about to say something, but then he didn’t.
“Chris?” you said finally.
“Yeah?”
“Are you going to kiss me, or do I have to do everything myself?”
His eyes widened, freezing for a moment before he surged forward, his hands cupping your face as his lips claimed yours. And oh, it was worth the wait.
Chris kissed you like a man starved. Like he’d been holding back for so long. His lips were so warm and firm but gentle, his hands sliding down to your waist to pull you closer.
When you finally pulled away, he gazed at you with so much love. And then you're both giggling breathlessly.
---
After Chris left, you barely had time to change your clothes before your doorbell rang. For a second you thought it's him again, but you opened the door to find Hyunjin standing there, a tub of ice cream in one hand.
He pushed past you into your warm living room, saying, “Don’t mind me, I’m just here for the juicy details.”
“Jinnie!” You watched him wander into your kitchen, and come back with two spoons. 
“What?” He plopped onto your couch, already digging in. “Spill. I need to know everything”
You groaned, but still took the spoon from him and sat next to him.
“So?”
You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips as you said, “It was perfect.”
Hyunjin gasped dramatically, clutching his chest.
“Oh my God!” he wailed. “My bestie and the CEO!”
“Shut up!” You laughed, trying to shove him off the couch, but he just tackled you into a hug.
“I’m so happy for you,” he said, his voice softer now. “Really.”
You couldn’t help but smile, because you're really happy, and you hug him tightly.
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Being in a relationship with the CEO was one thing. But maintaining professionalism, and a strict distance sometimes got so hard. Especially when he was thirsty as hell. 
You were doing quite well actually. But unfortunately for you, the biggest threat to your secret wasn’t the HR or prying coworkers or even Chris's lack of self control. It was your best friend and ultimate menace, Hyunjin.
He enjoyed tormenting Chris. He basically lived for it. It started out of nowhere with Hyunjin strolling into work one morning, a coffee mug in one hand and a mischievous grin on his ridiculously pretty face. He dropped into his seat and said, “You look guilty. Did you do something naughty with Mr. -?”
Your head snapped up and you glared daggers at him, hissing, “Hyunjin, for the love of God, lower your voice!”
“Relax.” He waved a hand, laughing. “Nobody cares. Well, except me, of course. Because watching your boyfriend go green with jealousy is my favorite pastime.”
You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Shush!”
Before you could shoo this menace away, your phone buzzed on the desk. Hyunjin leaned over at the speed of light before you could hide the screen. His eyes widened as he read the notification.
Chris: What are the chances I can get out of that dress in 15 minutes? I have some time before my next meeting. And, my office is soundproof.
You choked on your coffee, fumbling with the phone to swipe the notification away. Hyunjin gagged audibly, clutching his chest.
“Oh my god. EWWW.” he cried and you slapped your hand on his mouth to shut him up. 
Chris's office door swung open, and there stood Chris, his eyes zeroing in on your hand pressed to his mouth, his jaw tightening. He is by your seat in record time, fixing you both in a glare.
“Hyunjin. Do you not have work to do?” Chris’s voice was low, a warning.
“I’m on my break. Thought I’d spend it with my bestie.” Hyunjin grinned, not even a little intimidated.
Chris crossed his arms, glaring at Hyunjin like he was contemplating ways to legally fire him.
“I could arrange for you to have a lot of free time if you’d like.” he bit out, making you snort.
“Oooo is that a threat? Because it sounded like one.” Hyunjin asked, sitting back on his chair lazily.
“Take it however you want.”
“Guys, that's enough!” you snapped, slapping Hyunjin on his knee, and he sat up straight.
Chris looked at you with a sigh and said, “A word?”
You follow him into the hallway, picking up a file just to make it look real. 
“He’s touching you a lot.” His voice was low, dangerous.
“He’s my best friend, Chris.” You said and your tone was firm enough to let him know that he can't go there. 
“I don’t care,” he growled, his eyes darkening. “If he keeps testing me, he won’t have a job.”
“You won't do that.”
Chris smirked as he said,“Wouldn’t I?”
This battle between Hyunjjn and Chris was literally the highlight of your day - you can't lie about that. You enjoyed every minute of it. But Chris' jealousy always led him to text you absolute filth. Because though he acted all calm and composed, he's not very demure when it comes to you. 
---
By noon this had escalated to a point where you were squirming in your seat, thanks to your boyfriend’s sheer audacity. 
You took a deep breath before entering Chris’s office, files in hand and a determined scowl on your face.
Having a secret relationship was hard? Well try having one with a perpetually horny man - it was even harder. You can't be yourself here, but you could definitely scold him. Quietly.
You pushed the door open, ignoring the way his gaze instantly snapped up to you. He was leaning back in his chair, all smug confidence and all that.
“Here are the files you asked for,” you said crisply, dropping them onto his desk.
“Thank you,” he said, his tone warm, his eyes raking over you shamelessly. 
“Chris.”
“Yes, darling?”
“Can you please stop texting me like that?” you asked, keeping your voice low.
He tilted his head, pretending to think about it and said, “Hmm. No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“It’s your own fault. You come here dressed like that, and then flirt with Hyunjin for 9 hours. What do you expect me to do? Sit here quietly and not think about getting you on my desk?” 
You pointed at him, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “You are crazy.”
“That I am.” He smirked, leaning forward with his elbows on his desk. 
You glared at him, your cheeks burning, and turned on your heel to leave. The second you sat down, your phone buzzed again.
Chris: I love you, baby.
You groaned audibly, dropping your forehead onto your desk, trying to hide the smile on your face.
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By Friday, you needed a vacation. Or maybe a spiritual cleanse. 
You and Hyunjin had decided to go out for drinks - like you always did. Halfway through a round of shots with Hyunjin, your phone buzzed.
Chris: What are you up to?
Chris: Your text about going out with that menace was rather vague. 
You glanced at Hyunjin, a wicked smile spreading across your face. “Wanna annoy Chris?”
He grinned back as he said, “Always.”
You opened the camera app, and leaned back against Hyunjin, the shimmering glow of the bar lights making you both look just so sinful. Hyunjin, had one arm draped around your shoulders, smirking. You hit send, and waited.
Chris’s reply came instantly.
Chris: Of course. Of course.
You sipped your drink, biting back a smile as you typed.
You: Just out for drinks. You were too busy, remember?
Hyunjin snorted and said, “You’re gonna give him an aneurysm.”
“Good,” you said, snapping another selfie - Hyunjin had dipped his head closer, and your free hand was around him. You hit send.
It didn’t take long for the next reply.
Chris: Stop.
You: Stop what? 
Chris: Don’t play dumb.
Chris: You know exactly what you’re doing.
Chris: Get your ass home. Now.
You: No. Not until you learn that Jinnie is my best friend, and he's not your competition. So yeah. I'm not going anywhere.
Hyunjin leaned closer, as he whispered dramatically, “Oh no, Daddy Bang is mad.”
You slapped his arm, but still laughing as you said, “Jinnie, stop!”
Chris: That's enough. I'm not jealous.
You: Relax.
Chris: You know what? I’m coming.
“You're so evil! Now he's going to show up like Batman, all angry and in a suit.”
“He’s just bluffing.” you said, because how the hell does he know where you were?
Except… he wasn’t.
Around ten minutes later, the bar’s door swung open, and there he was.
Chris Bang in all his furious, suit-clad glory, looking like he’d just accidentally wandered into the wrong party.
You froze, mid-laugh. Hyunjin, however, did not.
“Oh my god,” he whispered, trying - and failing - not to laugh. “He’s actually here.”
Chris’s eyes locked onto you instantly. And he could see you both were tipsy. 
“Up. Now,” he ordered, his voice firm and unyielding.
Hyunjin leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself.
“Hey, Mr. Bang. Fancy seeing you here. Want a drink?” he said, batting his eyes at Chris.
Chris’s jaw tightened. “You’re coming too.”
Hyunjin blinked, clearly not expecting that. Chris didn’t bother repeating himself, but just grabbed your wrist, pulling you to your feet, then fixed Hyunjin with a glare that left no room for argument.
“Let’s go.” he said, turning and walking away.
—--
And the car ride was… tense.
Chris sat in the driver’s seat, his jaw clenched so tight. You were in the passenger seat, still buzzing from the alcohol. 
And Hyunjin? He was in the back, one hand over his mouth, his body shaking with suppressed laughter.
“This is the best Friday night ever,” he announced. “Can we do this again next week?”
“Hyunjin, shut up.” Chris said, shooting him a glare through the rearview mirror.
“Aw, come on, Mr. Bang. You know you love me.” Hyunjin snickered, leaning forward.
Chris didn’t answer, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the steering wheel.
You, meanwhile, were squirming in your seat, and not because you were nervous. Chris’s anger was doing things to you, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold it together.
“Are you mad at me, Mr. Bang?” you asked, your voice so teasing.
“Don’t start.”
“Start what?” you asked innocently, biting your lip.
Hyunjin choked on his laughter, muttering, “Oh my god.”
Once home, Chris wasted no time separating you and Hyunjin like two kids in time-out.
“You,” he said, pointing at Hyunjin. “Guest room. Down the hall, second door on the left.”
“Wait, I get to stay? You’re not throwing me out onto the street?” Hyunjin asked, surprised again. 
Chris sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and said, “Unfortunately.”
Hyunjin clasped his hands together, the drama kicking in as he said, “Mr. Bang, you’re too kind.”
“Enough,” Chris interrupted, holding up a hand, before leading him into the room and giving him some pyjamas to change into.
“And you,” he said to you, his voice low, “upstairs.”
Oh yeah, you both got the biggest (longest) lecture of your lives about drinking in shady bars and being irresponsible the next morning. That too while suffering hangovers and before breakfast. Cruel. 
---
Chris learned (a very hard lesson) that your lives were not exactly matching in any way possible. He played golf with business partners and hung out in restaurants that, like Hyunjin said, would charge for breathing in there. While you and Hyunjin, found pleasure in the simpler things in life. 
Like this 2000-piece jigsaw puzzle of Hogwarts Castle, spread out on your living room floor. Pieces in every shade of gray, black, and midnight blue mocked you and Hyunjin from every angle.
Hyunjin let out a dramatic groan, flopping back onto the carpet.
“What am I supposed to do with 92000 shades of darkness?!” he wailed. 
“Oh my God, Hyun,” you laughed, nudging him with your toe. 
“I can’t believe I’m enabling your Harry Potter obsession again.” he grumbled. “Where is your boyfriend anyway? Why do I have to suffer alone?”
You stuck your tongue out at him and said, “Oh, come on. You love it.”
“Love is a strong word,” he said, holding up two identical-looking black pieces with a glare.
Your phone buzzed and you glanced at the screen, smiling instantly.
Chris: Hey babe, what's going on?
You click a picture of the puzzle on your floor, sending it across.
You: Trying to tackle this monstrosity. Wanna come help?
Chris: Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.
Your heart squeezed. Intrude? It was so Chris to worry about things like that.
You: Babe, I want you here in 5 minutes.
---
When Chris arrived, you were so excited, you flung yourself into his arms, pulling him into a kiss that made Hyunjin groan loudly from the living room.
“Hey, some of us are single,” Hyunjin called out, clearly unimpressed. “Can you not?”
The three of you ended up on the floor, Hyunjin pushing all the dark pieces towards Chris quickly. 
“Looks…complicated,” Chris commented, eyeing the puzzle. 
“It’s hell,” Hyunjin confirmed, tossing another black piece into the pile. “But welcome to the party, boss man.”
“Alright. Where do I start?” Chris smirked, rolling up his sleeves.
The three of you settled into a rhythm, though it was more chaotic than you could've thought.
“Why does every piece look like a window?” Hyunjin muttered under his breath, while Chris’s look of concentration had you snickering. 
“You’re taking this way too seriously,” you teased, laying your head on his shoulder. 
“Of course,” he said, placing a piece with a soft click. “If I’m doing this, I’m doing it right.”
“Even his puzzles have to be CEO-level perfect.” Hyunjin snorted. 
“I’m the only one actually making any progress here.” Chris retorted. 
“Are you saying I’m bad at puzzles? I’ll have you know I’m -” Hyunjin gasped, clutching his chest.
“Terrible,” you interrupted, grinning as you handed Chris another piece. “Just terrible.”
Chris laughed as he leaned closer to you and said, “Glad I’m not the only one who sees it.”
As the hours passed, the puzzle started to take shape.
“You’re good at this,” you murmured, watching him fit another piece into place.
Chris glanced at you, his eyes soft and said, “I’m good at a lot of things.”
“Eww gross,” Hyunjin muttered, tossing a piece at Chris. “This is supposed to be wholesome. Stop making it sexy.”
You laughed, wrapping your arms around Chris’s waist.
“So, Jinnie and I are planning a trip to the Christmas market outside the city on Saturday.” you said. “We do it every year, so I thought, you'd like to come this year?”
“You want me to come?” Chris asked, his eyes moving from you to Hyunjin. 
“Of course,” you said, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Don’t get too excited, boss. She probably just wants an extra set of hands to carry her bags.” Hyunjin snorted from behind you.
“Shut up,” you said, swatting him on the arm. 
Chris’s eyes flicked between you and Hyunjin before settling on you, his smile growing.
“Fine. We’ll take my car and make it a road trip.” Chris said, smiling.
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Saturday Morning – 5:45 AM
The sun hadn’t even risen, and you were already bouncing with excitement as Chris pulled his sleek black SUV in front of your building. You were dressed in your coziest winter coat, gloves, and scarf, while Hyunjin stumbled out in a hoodie and looked like he'd just rolled out of bed.
“This is an ungodly hour,” Hyunjin grumbled, throwing himself into the back seat. “I hate both of you.”
Chris smirked and said, “Good morning to you too.”
“Shh,” Hyunjin muttered, curling into a ball. “Please.”
You turned in your seat to look at him, laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Call me when we’re there,” he mumbled, pulling a blanket (which he brought with him) over his head.
“I take it he’s not a morning person?” Chris chuckled as he pulled onto the road.
“Oh, he’s a delight,” you said sarcastically, earning you a nudge from the back. 
---
The drive was quiet and peaceful, with Hyunjin snoozing in the back and soft Christmas music playing in the background (because you're in a festive mood). At one point, Chris’s hand drifted to rest on your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles through your leggings.
“You’re really excited about this, huh?” he asked, glancing at you.
You nodded, your cheeks warm from his touch. “It’s kind of our thing…we've never broken the tradition…since we became friends.”
“I’m glad you invited me.” Chris said softly, and you squeezed his hand and said, “You’re part of my thing now.”
His eyes softened, and he lifted your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles. “Good to know.”
---
Hyunjin woke up the second the car pulled into the parking lot.
“We’re here! Let’s go!” he shouted, practically bursting out of the car like he wasn't snoring just a minute ago.
Chris looked at you, thoroughly amused.
“I thought he hated mornings?” he said.
“Magic of Christmas,” you replied with a shrug, grabbing his hand and dragging him toward the market entrance.
The market was a whirlwind of lights, scents, and laughter. There were twinkling fairy lights strung between wooden stalls, the smell of roasted chestnuts and mulled wine in the air, and carolers singing in the background.
Chris looked mildly overwhelmed, especially when Hyunjin shoved a steaming cup of hot chocolate into his hand. “Drink up Mr. Bang. Where's all the energy huh?”
“You can call me Chris when we're out of work, Hyunjin,” Chris said, shooting him a sideways glare.
“Aw, really?” Hyunjin pressed, with a grin. “You’re our sugar daddy funding this very festive adventure, I'll call you whatever you want.”
Chris shot you a helpless look, and you burst out laughing, linking your arm through his other one.
“We love you, baby,” you said, grinning up at him. “I know this is a little out of your style-”
“That’s an understatement,” Chris muttered, but his lips gave away a little smile. 
You and Hyunjin darted between the stalls like overexcited toddlers, as the number of bags Chris was holding increased alarmingly.
As the night went on, Chris found himself both entertained and quietly overwhelmed. You and Hyunjin were a whirlwind of energy, and as Chris  watched you loop your arm through Hyunjin’s, he realized that you and Hyunjin had a connection he couldn’t touch. A bond so natural and easy, it made him wonder if he’d ever truly get there.
Chris’s thoughts were interrupted when you snuggled closer to him, because it was getting so cold. As you got ready to leave, you saw a stand selling cotton candy, and you wanted it. Chris muttered something about “all that sugar”, but went on to buy one for you anyway.
You and Hyunjin were waiting when a man (half drunk), hit on Hyunjin. Hyunjin scowled and said, “I have a boyfriend, mind you!”
Just then, Chris came walking, cotton candy in hand, which Hyunjin quickly took from him. Chris eyed the man who was staring at him open-mouthed. 
“Is there a problem?” He asked, his eyes falling on you, as you tried not to burst out laughing. 
“No, love, we're good.” Hyunjin said, rolling his eyes, before getting into the car like nothing happened. 
Chris just sighed, not even bothering to ask what that was all about. 
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The drive back was quiet. You had passed out in the backseat, too exhausted after hours of walking and a tummy full of Christmas treats.
Hyunjin sat in the passenger seat beside Chris and he could see that Chris was tense. With a sigh, Hyunjin turned to face him and said, “Ok, Mr. Bang. What's going on?”
“What?” Chris's eyes flickered over to him for a second, then back to the road.
“You look like you'll explode any minute. What's the matter?” Hyunjin asked, raising his eyebrows. “And please, don't tell me it's nothing.”
Chris sighed, his watching you sleeping in the backseat through the rear view mirror, and then he said, “I…sometimes I worry about how you two have this connection, this bond that’s...so intense. You know her so well…and sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be enough for her. Because, I'm nothing like you, Hyunjin. My life has been completely different, and I worry that she'll be bored-”
Hyunjin’s lips quirked up, but there was a softness in his eyes as he glanced over at Chris.
“Oh wow. I have heard of over-thinking, but this is some next level shit,” Hyunjin laughed softly. “Dude, she's crazy about you. Yeah, we are really good with each other and all that, of course, she's my best friend. Literally my soul mate, only platonically, but yeah. But please, you have nothing to worry about. You’re with her now, and that’s all that matters.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing half the time,” Chris admitted. “But I’m trying. I love her…I've never…never before…”
“You’re doing just fine. She's really happy.” Hyunjin said with a smirk. 
Chris nodded, visibly relaxing as he said, “I’ll try to remember that. Thanks.”
---
When Chris parked his car outside your apartment building, your tired body could barely function. Your legs were sore from all the walking.
“I’m so tired,” you whined. “My legs are killing me, Chris. Can you -”
Before you could even finish your sentence, Chris came over and scooped you up into his arms, without a second thought, and you smiled against his neck as you held on.
“I got you,” he murmured as he carried you all the way inside, your head resting against his chest, your eyelids fluttering closed.
When he finally reached your bedroom, he gently placed you in your bed, quickly getting rid of your shoes, coat, mittens and scarf. His hands brushed over your hair as he tucked the covers around you, his gaze soft and almost tender.
“Good night,” he whispered, his lips landing a gentle kiss on your cheek, and his hand lingering at your side for a moment before he turned to leave.
But you caught his wrist, pulling him back.
“Stay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
“Please, just... stay with me.”
He didn’t say anything, just took off his coat and shoes, and slid into the bed beside you, holding you close. The silence enveloped you both, and you drifted off into a deep sleep.
---
Hyunjin, of course, wandered into your apartment the next morning with coffee and breakfast, and walked straight into this scene - Chris still next to you, his arm draped over you protectively, and you, snuggled into him. He just grinned mischievously and snapped a photo for the memories.
“I see you took my advice, good choice,” Hyunjin said, looking at Chris, who was already wide awake and glaring at him.
“You're an idiot,” Chris muttered, but there was a softness in his eyes.
Hyunjin just chuckled, holding up his coffee. 
“Come get your coffee, Daddy Bang,” He said, laughing as Chris threw a pillow his way.
“Hyunjin, shut up!” You yelled, pulling Chris closer. “And you, come here,”
Chris grinned as he let you pull him closer (if that was even possible). This was perfect.
Hyunjin was right.
Tags : @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght
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korosenaiishi · 1 year ago
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tag dump
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jaylalolz · 3 months ago
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❛ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐓 ❜ . . . nicholas chavez
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COLLEGE STUDENT!reader x PROFESSOR!nicholas 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
SUMMARY, Mr. Chavez notices that his most intelligent student has been falling asleep and receiving poor grades in class. After class, he decides to check on her, which escalates to something else.
A/N, if you don’t feel comfortable reading this then don’t!! i didn’t proof read this so there might be some mistakes. if so, let me know!! have fun reading, angels.
WARNINGS, smuttyyy
Mr. Chavez adjusted his glasses, scanning the room as he wrapped up his lecture. His students, usually attentive, were scribbling furiously, hanging onto every word. Well, most of them were. One, in particular, sat slumped in the back row, her head resting against her arm, eyes half-closed. This wasn’t like her. She was his brightest student—sharp, focused, always the first to raise her hand, challenge ideas, and submit assignments that left him impressed. But lately, she’d been different. She’d started falling asleep in class, her energy waning, assignments either late or missing altogether.
As the class packed up and filtered out of the lecture hall, Nicholas kept his eye on her. When she made a move to leave, he cleared his throat, voice gentle but firm.
“can you stay for a moment? I need to talk to you.”
She froze in place, her hand still on her bag strap. She hesitated for a second before nodding and walking up to his desk. The other students trickled out, their chatter fading in the hallway, leaving an awkward silence behind.
Nicholas leaned against his desk, arms crossed. His expression softened as he looked at her, the concern clear in his eyes.
“I’m worried about you. You’ve been distracted, your work isn’t where it used to be, and your most recent work was very.. inappropriate. I know something is up and i’m here to talk about it. Whatever you say stays between us.”
She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, and the urge to speak was overwhelming. But something inside her pulled back, a voice in her head telling her this wasn’t something she could say out loud. Not to him. Not to her professor.
“I—” she started, then shook her head, her words catching in her throat. “I can’t. It’s… complicated.”
Nicholas leaned forward slightly, his expression softening. “I understand that it might feel complicated, but I’m here to help. You’ve always been an outstanding student, and I can see something’s changed. You don’t have to carry this alone. Whatever’s distracting you, I want to help you work through it.”
She bit her lip, her mind racing. She couldn’t tell him. She wasn’t allowed to, not even by her own sense of self-control. But the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, made it hard to keep it all bottled up. She looked at him for a long moment before sighing, dropping her head.
“You wouldn’t understand,” she whispered, almost more to herself than to him.
Nicholas gave her a reassuring look, his voice calm and steady. “Try me.”
She glanced around the empty classroom, the quiet space making it feel like the world had shrunk to just the two of them. She hesitated, then whispered, "What if it's something I shouldn't be feeling? Something I can't talk about?"
Nicholas’ brow furrowed slightly, sensing the weight behind her words. “whatever you’re feeling, whatever’s been distracting you—it’s okay. This is a safe space. It’s just between us. No one else needs to know, and I’m not here to judge you. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”
She nodded, feeling both a sense of relief and a lingering uncertainty. She wasn’t sure what would come next, but for now, at least, the burden of silence had been lifted. She shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze, her fingers twisting together in her lap. She took a deep breath, as if bracing herself for something difficult. Finally, she lifted her eyes to meet his, and the words tumbled out before she could stop them.
“It’s you,” she said softly.
Nicholas blinked, thrown off by the unexpected response. “Me?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”
She exhaled slowly, shaking her head slightly, as if struggling to find the right words. “I can’t focus because… you’re distracting me. I think about you all the time, and when I’m in class, I can’t pay attention. I try to keep up, but everything just… spirals. And you we’re in my head while i was writing the assignment.”
Her confession hung in the air between them, the weight of it settling in as Nicholas processed her words. He looked at her, his mind racing.
No. She's a student.
A professor and student should never have a romantic relationship. But Nicholas would have her hands chained and her ass marked with his belt if they were living in a lawless society. For the benefit of the two of them, this had to end. "I will be direct with you. I understand why some students enroll in my course. You are a youthful college student. We live in a confusing and evolving period. You're discovering who you are away from home. However, that does not imply that you would make up a filthy story about me.”
Nicholas's mind faltered. The level of tension in the room was increasing to a level that neither she nor he could handle. Something perplexing, thrilling, and erotic. At last, Nicholas said, "I'll give you an A," closing the discussion and putting her paper in a drawer.
"I... thank you, professor. I really appreciate it."
"Anything else?"
She remained silent, as Nicholas wanted. Before he lost all control, he had to get the student out of there.
However, she did respond at last. "Why do you study what you do?" It was a risky response from the professor. For this reason, he evaded the topic altogether. “It's getting late. I think you should leave."
"But -"
"Whatever you think you want from me, you don't get, Miss. I've never indulged with a student this much. Don’t tempt me.” It made her feel attracted to him. And it was something she despised. She was extremely frustrated because she hated herself for being so deeply attracted to the professor.
"Or what." bringing the two closer together as they stood on either sides of the desk. They were aware of one other's heated bodies and labored breaths. teasing. Her subsequent remarks served as the final spark. "You would never lay a hand on a student."
When her palms struck the hard surface of his desk, Nicholas pushed her onto it and allowed her to steady herself. He pushed Her down until she was only supported by her elbows, one hand on her back. She made a small arching of her back in an attempt to tease the professor in a desperate manner. "Professor, please..."
"quiet." She felt Nicholas's presence behind her, and her act was answered with a hard slap across her ass.
"Is this what you want?" With his voice hardly more than a whisper. She, on the other hand, made the decision without pausing. "Yes." Nicholas fisted a hold of her hair, very aggressively. Her lips were pursed to contain a cry that leaked out as a high-pitched whine.
"You will address me as 'sir'. If you don't, you will be punished”
"I understand, sir."
In one smooth motion, he unbuckled his belt, leaving her speechless with the sound of leather and metal. While she was thinking about how she was going to walk the following morning, Nicholas hastily covered himself with a condom that she had not seen him take out. "sir...professor, it's been a while - I don't think..."
The professor, really delighted by her response, gently clasped her jaw and ran his thumb over her lower lip. "Shhh... take it like a good girl."
She was so engrossed in his remarks and intense stare that she failed to notice Nicholas pulling her panties to the side and pushing up her dress. He wasted no more time in doing so. He had developed a painfully throbbing and stiffened cock.
The moment Nicholas felt her warm arousal covering his length, he pushed forward a little and groaned. She sensed the mouthwatering sound vibrating from his chest to hers.
With all of his remaining strength, Nicholas whispered in her ear, "Relax, baby, don't tense up," intending to spare the girl from a ruthless fuck.
When he finally gave her a full thrust, she flung back her head and let out a sound that was somewhere between a yell and a groan through parted lips. Nicholas was unable to hear her at all. He could only concentrate on the sensation of her walls pressing just the right amount of pressure against his cock.
Nicholas pulled away, then pushed forward once more, widening her entrance and losing himself in her presence. As Nicholas touched a portion of her that no man had ever touched before, she gasped. In response, she felt every muscle and bone in her body contract, like a bundle of hypervigorated nerves. "I'm not holding back." Nicholas warning was precisely what she wanted to hear.
Nicholas picked up speed, every move intentional and purposeful. With every stroke, she felt herself rise higher and higher, closer to an unfathomable release. She had never felt anything so erotically pleasant as the tension and sense that Nicholas was using her so forcefully. All she needed was one more edge. She was still engrossed in the rhythmic pleasure as Nicholas's fingers crept up on her neck.
As he pressed against her airways, Nicholas felt his cock pulse inside her, his release getting closer as he saw her fight to breathe. Her senses faltered as she focused on Nicholas's relentless thrusts and her own shallow, labored breathing. Her hand automatically reached out to remove the pressure on her neck, but Nicholas's grip tightened and she was forced closer to the edge.
He moaned, "Don't come," reaching even farther down and causing her to cry out, which was like music to Nicholas. “Tell me who you now belong to."
Nicholas used his other hand to cover her lips and stifle a scream as he simultaneously took his hand off her neck to yank her hair back and pushed deeply from a different angle. "Come on, baby. "I know you want to," Nicholas teased, opening her mouth to speak freely. "You're my little whore, tell me."
Her desperate gasps came her raspy voice. "I belong to you. I’m your little whore. please, please, fuck." He continued at his rapid speed, allowing her to collapse several times.
Her eyes were nearly full with tears, and she felt an overwhelming sense of pleasure all over her body. The sensation, noise, and visual of her amazing release was sufficient to set off Nicholas's own. He declared her his, and more than a student, with a last thrust and groan.
The two stopped, gasping for air, realizing what they had done was wrong. Their bodies were drenched in sweat and sensual ecstasy, and their heartbeats and respiration slowed. The professor and the student couldn't help but look at each other, witnessing their reflected feelings. Feelings they were unable to comprehend.
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kittyfrisk9 · 4 months ago
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IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon.
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
Dead On Main.
---
Danny accidentally absorbed some of Nocturn's powers (like in the Vortex episode), and now, with these new temporary abilities, why not take advantage of them? Like a kid with a new toy, Danny (or should I say Phantom: with a new design) has fun every night going from dream to dream.
The dream world is so strange! Without the constant threat of a dream entity trying to take over the world and all that. Now he has fun exploring the most unusual parts of his classmates' subconscious, or anyone's in general.
Even though he knows he shouldn't be doing this (after all, he's a responsible adult now), spying on other people's dreams isn't exactly something a mature person would do.
On the other hand, Danny is the responsible adult; Phantom is the one who uses his new powers recklessly. Plus, no one in Gotham knows who Phantom is, and at the end of the day, he's not hurting anyone. Point in his favor!
It was all fun and games… until he felt it: the unpleasant taste of a nightmare, distressing and desperate. Phantom knows he has to intervene, because, unlike Nocturn, he does not delight in the suffering of others.
So he goes. And what he sees shocks him.
Resonant laughter of a psychopath, the constant pain of flesh being beaten, and the devastating reminder that no one came to help. Phantom doesn't just see it, he feels it. Gross. What is this? Why would anyone be hurting a child? Then he understands: this is not just a nightmare, it's a memory, and someone is suffering from reliving it.
He absolutely will not allow this nightmare to continue.
...
Jason hasn't been having good days lately, mostly because instead of going to therapy, he's chosen to sweep his trauma under the rug and aggressively throw himself into crime-fighting. He's not good at dealing with his emotions, especially when he's been tormented by the same damn nightmare over and over again.
He knows the script by heart, he knows how it will end, but he still feels the same fear as the first time.
His head hurts.
"No, not again," he thinks in terror. Once again, he's tied up, unable to move or call for help. It's colder than he remembers. The walls have a grotesque tint, with laughter written in every corner. But the worst thing is the silence… until the sound of clashing metal begins to resonate.
Everything is a thousand times worse. He's sure the original scenario wasn't like this, but his terrified mind refuses to accept it.
The metallic sound resonates louder, each crash rumbling in Jason's chest. His breathing quickens, and then he hears it: that laugh.
A deep, distorted echo of laughter that seems to come from every direction. The laughter snakes around the grotesque walls, filled with the same letters that repeat his agony. “Ha… ha… ha…” fills the air, louder with each invisible step that approaches.
Then, he appears.
It’s not the Joker he remembers from that fateful night. This one is worse. Bigger, more deformed, with a smile that seems to tear at his own face. The colors of his suit are darker, more twisted. It’s as if his mind has amplified him, made him more monstrous.
“My, my, how little Robin has grown? But… something remains the same, doesn’t it? No matter how many times you live it, it always ends the same way. And to think that you were my greatest work of art!”
His voice is mocking, but behind the mockery is pure cruelty, a wicked amusement that lights up in those crazy eyes.
The Joker leans towards Jason, his face invading the small distance between them. The sound of metal continues to echo, and Jason knows what's coming next.
"Oh, I almost forgot…" he says, pulling out of nowhere an iron crowbar that gleams in the dim light of the nightmare. "It wouldn't be a good memory without this, would it?"
That's when the pain begins. Jason doesn't want to scream, and he won't. Even though that abominable creature is just a representation of his killer, he won't give him the luxury of listening to him suffer. The blows continue, and Jason bites his tongue. It's just a nightmare, it's not real… it's not real.
It's not real.
It's not real.
It's not-
"Hey… Are you okay?" he hears him ask. His shocked gaze turns to where the clown should be and discovers that he's gone. In his place, there's a handsome young man: short, slightly messy black hair, expressive purple eyes, and a body almost completely shrouded in dark shadows.
The mysterious man had a cosmic air about him, surrounded by a mix of special effects of stars and galaxies. Something magical.
And new.
Jason honestly doesn't know what he's seeing, or why he's seeing it. "What?" he says, unable to find another word to describe his situation.
The entity laughs at his stunned state, a reassuring echo very different from the joker's laughter. Then he snaps his fingers, and suddenly he's no longer in that ugly room. He's now in a field of flowers, beautiful and vibrant, looking out at a starry sky.
Okay, this is the part where he asks his brain how he went from being in a nightmare to being with a handsome guy under the stars, hands free and untethered.
"Relax, you're not crazy," the being says as he lies back in the grass. “You were in pain, and I didn’t like it, so I got you out of there. Don’t worry, that abomination won’t bother you again.”
Jason blinks twice, bewildered, not understanding anything. “You… saved me?”
“You could say yes.”
“Why?” He shakes his head. “No, wait, that’s not the question. Who…?” Looking back at the being, he decides to change his question: “What are you?”
He seems to have taken the being by surprise.
It clasps its hands together as it looks up at the sky, trying to act normal. Jason narrows his eyes. “You can call me Void.”
“Did you just make up that name?”
The being looks away, seemingly embarrassed at being found out. “Yeah…” And suddenly exclaims, “Ah, ancients! I'm not supposed to be doing this, much less with one of the bats."
That last sentence had given away more than it should have.
"Hey, how about we admire the night view and then pretend this never happened?" Void suggested with a hopeful smile, turning to Jason.
Maybe it was the soft scent of the flowers, the calm atmosphere, or just the tiredness after so many nights of endless nightmares, but Jason, without thinking too much about it, walked over, lay down next to Void on the grass, and said, "No."
He needed a break.
...
And that's how Jason befriended a dream demon. And how Danny pretended to be a dream demon until Nocturn's powers wore off. He couldn't let the bats find out his identity.
After that, they spent more time together, fell in love, there was drama and there was closure. In the middle of all that, Danny started having tea with Alfred in the dream world, and at other times, he had fun bothering the other bats in their dreams.
But that's another story.
---
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
Part 2
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cloudcountry · 6 months ago
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since you guys liked my idea so much here it is: WAYS THE NRC BOYS WOULD MAKE YOU WORSE
reader's personality is based more off of in-game yuu than anything? this set of hcs is a bunch of hypotheticals basically. this can be read as platonic or romantic idk each guy is written as if they are the closest person to you, friends or otherwise.
IF YOU SEE A TYPO NO YOU DONT
mentally preparing myself for the "i wouldnt do that!!!!!" comments...and post.
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Riddle increases your attentiveness to the rules tenfold. No matter how meek you are, he makes your voice strong—and oh boy does it carry. You’re yelling at people for running in the halls, chastising them for not doing their homework, and opening your mouth wider when you speak. For a school full of troublemakers like Night Raven, the entire student body is so disappointed there’s another Riddle.
Trey makes you more passive, less likely to speak up when you see something. He’s always stood back in the shadows, watching over everything without saying a word, and it’s seeped into your personality, too. You’re spineless now. This world is unfamiliar, why should you try to do anything? You’d only stand out. You don’t want to be outstanding. You want to be as normal as possible. So you stand back.
Cater gets you wrapped up in the hype of social media. It started out as a way to indulge his interests but now you’re on Magicam all day, scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. You send things to your friends and say “hey, we should do this” but never make any actual effort to connect with them outside of that. You fall easier into jealousy because you’re surrounded by glamor.
Deuce makes you reckless. He’s so willing to throw himself into things and it spurs you to do the same, no matter how many times your teachers or potential upperclassmen tell you not to. You can’t hear anything but Deuce and his yelling, his enthusiasm and terror for whichever situation you two find yourselves in, knowing that you’d follow him anywhere.
Ace makes you all the more prickly, your sharp jabs and irritating smugness a product of spending too much time with him. You two are two peas in a pod, but to an outsider you two just seem...irritating. You have a talent for getting under people’s skin and have definitely gotten better at lying.
Leona thinks its so cute how you try to defend him at every twist and turn. Like no, he is as dastardly as everyone is saying. Why are you trying to deny it? You’re suddenly seeing reason in the most massive ego-ed people this side of Sage Island and Leona honestly doesn’t know if he should be concerned for you or be amused because of you. (This one in particular was inspired by @loser-jpg LMAO)
Ruggie could have made you prioritize yourself more, but you think he took it a bit too far. See, now you’re snatching cafeteria items and worksheets right under people’s noses, giggling as they demand you give it back. Sometimes they don’t even notice you, but even if they did you’ve learned how to be lighter on your feet.
Jack and you are incredibly uncooperative people (unless you owe someone, of course.) He’s guided you away from asking for help, insisting that the people here will take advantage of you then turning around to say that he doesn’t care, he just doesn't want to get wrapped up in your mess. It’s like you can’t trust anyone but him and your Heartslabyul friends anymore.
Azul has given you one nasty sense of perception, allowing you to key into every little detail and find loopholes in the things people say in a second. He’s turned you into a deadly asset, one he treasures just as much as the student body fears. You read over his contracts and point out what you would do to get out of them, and he adjusts accordingly. What a fine team you two make!
Jade makes it clear that his morals are less than savory, and will often encourage you to partake in things you really shouldn't. You rationalize it as Jade helping you go after the things you want, to finally take and take and take from people when you’ve been so selfless all your life, because it's what you deserve isn’t it?
Floyd will often rope you into his schemes, and it's not wrong before you start doing the same. Once a model student, attending every class, you now skip class and watch with amusement as Floyd threatens another student, hiding your smile behind your hand. They may plead for your assistance, but who are you to stop Floyd? This poor soul clearly owed something.
Kalim instills you with a sense of jealousy and helplessness. He has money to solve all of his problems, his life must be so easy. You’ve lived through so many overblots and received no help from anyone, but Kalim has always been so kind and generous to you. It makes you resent him a little, and anyone else who tries to help, because they all have things that you don’t and that's just not fair.
Jamil twists and bends your mind so much that you can do the very same thing to others. You’ve caught onto his little game and he knows it, eyeing you with anticipation whenever you speak in the same honeyed tone he uses when he wants something. You’ve gotten scarily good at hiding it too, shooting him a smug grin because you know he knows, but nobody else does.
Vil brings out so much confidence in your abilities it’s borderline arrogance. You know you’re capable, so why doesn’t everyone just let you handle this? You can do it, they can’t. So they should just step aside. You’re not doing it to be mean, so why are they getting so annoyed at you? You’re just better.
Rook has some eccentricities, and you’re well aware of them. They put you off at first, but now you’re used to him. It just seems normal now. You’re not sure why everyone makes such a big deal out of his tendencies, that’s just how he is. He’ll stalk you, hunt you down, but he’s having fun! Don’t spoil it for him!
Epel is actually the perfect fit for NRC, you think. He’s a troublemaker, he’s stubborn, and he’s so, so angry. But he’s right! Why should you respect people who claim to be above you? It’s so irritating that they walk around with those annoying smirks on their faces. You two should do something about that, don’t you think?
Idia has a very specific way of talking that can not only be confusing, but can also irritate the hell out of people. Of all things you could pick up from him, you picked up his smug jabs and insults, accompanied by a tooth grin and a laugh. It’s unnerving how much he’s rubbed off on you, a true testament to how close you too are much to the chagrin of the rest of NRC.
Malleus finds so much delight in being your bodyguard, your most trusted companion, that he doesn’t even bat an eye when you use his magic for your own gain. You’ve gotten soft, molding to whatever shape Malleus wants you to be just so he won’t leave. You’re helpless without him, only he has the will and the magic to protect you. So won’t he please stay?
Lilia has a way of dodging the truth, putting a smile on his face even when he’s hurting. It makes you think that, if he can do that, why can’t you? Lilia is smart, he knows how to go about life, so you should follow his lead and bury your problems until they’ll never see the light again.
Sebek has done nothing but berate you for being human since you met him, and even if you’ve gotten closer to him over the course of your stay in Twisted Wonderland, you’re starting to think he’s right. If you had magic, if you weren’t human, you’d be more powerful. It’s a fact. You could do so much more if you weren’t so weak.
Silver has made you complacent. He takes each step carefully, protecting both you and Malleus, so why would you need to protect yourself in any capacity? It’s so nice, having this safety net. If you could, you'd rely on Silver forever, never facing the cruel realities of the world that are blocked by his strong arms.
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slytherinslut0 · 3 months ago
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SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER
october 4th. mattheo - virginity loss / corruption kink.
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PART TWO | kinktober masterlist. | 2024.
summary: pls read part one first for a lil buildup. also. im laughing at myself bc there was a perfectly good bed…right there…
warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, virginity loss, PIV, so much dirty talk, so much patience from mattheo, (more of a realistic virginity loss bc it’s not always easy), praise!!!!, slight degradation, fingering, multiorgasm, handjob, best friends lil sister trope.
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Mattheo Riddle was so accustomed to this. The pulse of adrenaline in the dead of night, the quiet hum of anticipation stretching every second longer than it needed to be. You weren't naive to that, not to him, nor the danger he carried so effortlessly in his stride. He wore it like a second skin.
But you—you were not accustomed to it. Not to any of this.
So when you pushed open the door to the room of requirement a little over ten-minutes later, you hadn't been sure what you were expecting to find. Something darker, maybe. More foreboding. But when the room revealed itself before you—silent, draped in soft moonlight that pooled over the bed with a window wide and open, spilling that pale silver fog across the floor—you almost laughed.
Too perfect. Too on the nose, like the castle itself had been watching you both for months and had decided this was the moment it would indulge you.
"You're late." Mattheo's voice cut through the quiet.
His back was to you, suit jacket discarded on an old oak desk against the wall, dark curls falling just above his collar as he stood by the window, eyes fixed on the lake. The moonlight made the ripples dance, just like the tension in the room.
You took a step toward him, silent.
He turned, finally. His eyes met yours and you saw it—the hesitation, the way his gaze moved over you, slow, cautious. He took in the way the light draped itself over your shoulders, moving lower—and it was as if for the first time, he allowed himself to see you fully, all the details he had so tried to ignore, now right in front of him. He drank them in.
You gave him a small, nervous smile, hoping it would ease the weight of his stare. "I didn't realize you were the type to keep track of time."
He moved closer, but not close enough. Not yet. His breath was tight, chest rising and falling too fast. The space between you felt like a chasm, though it was barely there at all.
"You've a lot to learn, little girl," he teased, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, though it did nothing to mask the conflict in his eyes. It was meant to disarm you, but it only made the air heavier. His jaw tightened. "You're sure about this?"
"Quite sure," you breathed, stepping closer, close enough to admire the sharp line of his jaw, the soft stubble. "You're the one who's hesitating."
"I'm not hesitating," he muttered, though the roughness in his voice betrayed him. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be doing this with you. His best friend's little sister. He wanted to give you every chance to stop this, to walk away. "Just trying not to rush this—rush you."
You let out a small huff, your hand moving up to find his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. Mattheo Riddle was nervous.
"You've been making me wait for months," you whispered. "I don't think a little rushing would hurt."
He swallowed hard, his eyes locked on your hand as it trailed over his chest, lower, teasing. Every touch was a flame against his skin, every breath between you a match struck in the dark. He wanted you, more than anything, but the weight of it—the wrongness, the danger—clawed at his conscience.
His hand caught your wrist, intending to stop you, but his fingers lingered against your skin. Frozen.
"We shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, the words thick in his throat. "Your first time should be—"
"My choice," you interrupted, pressing closer, your body flush against his, your lips brushing his jaw as your hand slid lower, teasing the edge of his belt. "My virginity is mine to give, Mattheo. And I want to give it to you."
He shuddered, your words settling, sinking into the dark space that held you both captive. His hand found your hip, the other threading through your hair, gently tugging your head back to expose the soft skin of your neck.
"You’re not thinking straight," he rasped. "You'll regret this..."
But even as he said it, his hands tightened, pulling you impossibly closer.
"I'll regret nothing." Your fingers slipped lower, grazing his crotch, moving with nothing but instinct and need. Biting your lip, you felt the outline of him, hard and aching under your palm, and squeezed—he grunted, snapping his hips, and you throbbed. "Shit, Mattheo..."
"You are—fuck..." Mattheo's voice was a ragged breath, the words drawn out like he'd been holding them back for months. "...such a little tease."
You let go as quickly as you'd squeezed, and he growled against your skin, fingers tightening in your hair. Your hands found his face, pulling him in, crushing your lips to his. You moved with intent, pushing him back until his thighs hit the edge of the desk, and he groaned again—this low, guttural sound that sent a thrill through you.
You smirked into the kiss, tasting his frustration, savouring the way his defences cracked open. When you pulled back, his chest was heaving, lips swollen, eyes dark with want.
"I learned from the best," you whispered, teasing as your fingers slid down, finding the buckle of his belt. He watched you, every breath uneven, as you worked at the latch, pulling the leather free. "You've had months of fun tormenting me," you continued, moving to the button, the zipper. "Kissing me, only to say it was a mistake. Grabbing my ass every chance you could. Talking sweet when my brother wasn't looking..." your smirk deepened, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "...it's my turn now."
His pants sagged around his hips as you undid them and he cursed under his breath—his brain was struggling to catch up, like he couldn't believe the sudden shift, couldn't quite fathom the boldness with which you undid him.
Until—his hands were on you, spinning you around, your back hitting the desk with a thud.
"You think you're in control here?" His fingers slid up your hips, dragging your dress along with them, baring your skin to the cool air. "You think you have any goddamn idea what you're doing?"
You shuddered—you'd never seen him like this before—there was something feral in the way he moved, now, something sharp in the way his hands worked. His thumbs hooked around your panties and in one swift motion, they were gone—torn down your thighs before he urged you back onto the desk, parting your legs with his torso.
You were breathless, chest heaving, pulse thrumming wildly. His presence consumed the room, and for a moment, it was all you could focus on—the intensity of him, the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes.
You stared up at him, mind empty, until—
Smack.
His palm came down on your inner thigh, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a jolt of sensation straight to your cunt. Your skin stung from the contact, but that wasn't the part that made you gasp. It was the heat, the way it surged through your veins, flooding your abdomen in a slow, aching pulse. You liked that.
"I asked you a question." His lips brushed against your ear, breath warm as he leaned in. "Two, actually."
You couldn't think, mind swimming—the press of his body, the rough timber of his voice, the weight of his hands as his fingers teased, climbing higher, brushing closer to the ache between your thighs. You sucked in a breath, trying to recall what he'd asked, trying to focus anything but the fire he was lighting in you—
But then, his fingers slipped further, closer, just barely brushing your slit, and your hips jerked involuntarily, chasing that touch.
"No—I don’t—“ the shame in the answer barely mattered. His fingers were so close, so close. "Gods—I just know I want you—"
"That's all you think about, isn't it?" He smirked, lips falling to your neck, tongue tracing the places he knew would wreck you, each soft, wet press making you whimper despite yourself. "You don't care about anything else..." his fingers slipped lower, dipping between your folds—and you cried out, shameless, the sensation unlike any other you'd ever felt. "…not the consequences, not the risk...you just want me…”
Your nails dug into his back and he sucked in a breath through his teeth, wetting his fingers in your arousal before gliding back up to your clit and tracing over it.
"Oh—Gods—" you whinged, moaning into his shoulder.
Mattheo’s hands were experienced—that much was certain. Those fingers knew exactly how to move, precisely how to trace light, delicate circles over your clit that made you twitch, squirm— nerves stripped as you took in the new sensation. It wracked every inch of you, and you could feel him savouring your helplessness, drawing out every ounce of tension that had been building between you for months.
“You’re soaked.” You could hear the disbelief in his voice. “...filthy little thing for me, aren't you?"
"Gods, Mattheo, yes—" your eyes rolled, thighs twitching against his hand. "I am—ohh—"
"Yeah?" His tongue traced a slow, wet path up the side of your neck, teeth dragging over your pulse. "You like this?"
His words were enough to make you want to scream, but no sound formed—just a low, broken moan that spilled from your throat, raw and shameless.
"Answer me," he murmured. "You ever orgasm from this before? Hm?"
"No—" your voice choked, trembling as you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to look at him, something like shame pooling in your stomach. "Oh, fuck—"
"No, what?" His fingers pressed harder, circles growing faster, more insistent, and his voice—Christ, his voice— "I asked you two questions, little slut. Keep up. You wanted this."
"Yes—mmf—I like it—" you whined, the words a desperate spill from your lips, too flustered to form anything coherent. "And no—Gods—you're the first to...to touch me like this..."
He figured as much but the admission tore through him nonetheless, his teeth sinking into your shoulder with a groan—not enough to hurt, but enough to leave a mark, a bruise, a reminder. His hand dipped lower, a finger pushing inside you without warning, pressing deep into your slick heat, and you cried out, your body tightening, pulsing around him, vision swimming.
"And this?" His voice was a smirk against your skin. "You let anyone else inside you like this?"
You knew he already knew the answer. You both did. He was reveling in it—the way he had you, trembling, helpless. You'd never heard him like this, never heard him so crass, so unfiltered, and the way he spoke made your whole body flush with heat.
"No." The word was a strangled moan, barely a breath. "Gods—Mattheo—you already knew that—"
He crooked his finger inside you, and your back arched, the stretch unfamiliar yet mindnumbing, his thumb working your clit. You felt teeth nipping at your earlobe, a hum into your eardrum—his body thrumming with the satisfaction of finally, finally letting himself have you where he wanted.
"Perhaps I did." He added another finger, curling them inside you, his teeth scraping along your neck in a smile. The groan that slipped from your lips was desperate, pained in its pleasure, your body reacting to every new inch of him. "Fucking hell—you can barely take two..."
Your head shook, words failing you. "Gods—Mattheo—I...fuck..."
A low grunt rumbled from his chest, his fingers moving quicker, slick with the evidence of your desire. "Feels good?"
"Yes—" you moaned, breath hitching, vision blurring as he pumped his fingers in and out, building something inside you that you couldn't name, something new, something overwhelming. "I feel—oh, gods—something...happening—"
"You feel something?" His voice was mocking, drenched in that innocent, teasing tone that had you falling apart. "Yeah? What's happening, princess?"
You couldn't find breath, couldn't form the words to answer him. The pressure inside you was mounting, intensity unbearable, your body tense and straining toward an edge. You clung to him, breathless, desperate for more, desperate for something, anything—
"I don't—" your voice broke as his fingers curled deeper, wetness flooding between your thighs, his thumb relentless. "Pressure—fuck—so much—"
He nodded. "Yeah? Pressure in that pretty stomach? Feels fucking good, doesn't it?"
"Fuck—yes, yes," your lids fluttered. "S’good—"
"You're so close." He watched you, drunk on your downfall, and smirked as you neared the edge. "You're going to cum for me."
Sanity shattered in your throat—words trapped, swallowed by the tension, leaving only the soft, unbridled whimpers you once might've once found embarrassing. But there was no shame now, not when you were this close, the pressure coiling tighter in your core, ready to burst.
"Ohh—" you managed, lungs sputtering, head tipping back. The sound of your voice, the way you moaned, was foreign, unfamiliar to your own ears. "Gods—oh fuck-"
"I know," he cooed, sweet like sugar. "I know."
You were a mess. Too close, too overwhelmed—everything was him. His scent, the heat of his skin, the feel of his fingers working that magic that had your body convulsing before you could even cry out, before you could process the way your vision blurred with the force of it. The climax hit like a wave crashing over you, and your moans were swallowed by his kiss, his lips on yours the second your body tightened, shaking against his hand.
He was relentless, rough and insistent, kissing you like he wanted to devour you whole—drowning out the world as your body pulsed around his fingers. You’d never felt such an intense sensation, lava coursing, replacing the blood in your veins. His breath stuttered against your mouth, a low groan vibrating through him, the sound making your spine tingle.
"F-fuck," he muttered, pulling his fingers from you, glistening and wet. "Messy little thing."
The words sent a shiver through you, not just from their meaning but from the way he said them, like something perverse, intimate. Your chest tightened with the warmth of them.
"You—" you panted, trying to find your voice. Blinking through the haze of lingering bliss. "You can't say things like that."
"Why not?" He chuckled your name against your neck, lips brushing a path to your ear. "Because you might fall in love with me?" His teeth grazed the sensitive spot under your lobe, along your jawline. "Oh wait...you already have."
"Shut up," you whispered, stomach flipping at the way he said your name, the way it dripped from his mouth like honey. "Have not."
"I've known for a while, you know," he mused, his voice so low, so quiet. "Don't think I haven't seen it—the way you look at me." He kissed your skin again, working his way up, each press of his lips something sacred, moving closer to your mouth. "The way you can't get enough of me."
You could kill him for it, for the way his words sunk into your bones, making all the feelings you've buried rise to the surface, pulling you under. He just had to go there—had to milk every inch of your composure out of you, because it's not enough for him to have you disarmed physically—sexually—he needed to have you disarmed emotionally, too.
Perhaps the worst part of it all is how right he was. Arrogant bastard.
"Stop talking," your hand drifted down, grazing the bulge in his pants, your fingers slipping under the waistband, rubbing him through the thin fabric of his boxers. It was reckless. You've never done this before, but God, you wanted to. "Stop talking and teach me."
The room tilted—the world off its axis. His breath caught, choked in his lungs as he grabbed your face and pulled your lips to his—his kiss wild, his tongue insistent, running along your gums and wrestling with yours for control.
"Fuck," he groaned into your mouth as you tugged his boxers down, freeing him, your hand wrapping around him. Hot. Hard. "Wrap your fingers around it, princess. Gentle strokes. Just like that."
Your heart stumbled at the sound of his voice, thick, raw and open. You tightened your grip, stroking him slowly, experimentally, and he hissed through his teeth, a groan vibrating through his chest.
"You're so big," you murmured, forehead against his, the words spilling out without thought. "So thick..."
"Fucking minx," he moaned. "Stroking me and telling me how big I am—fuck—you're not as innocent as everyone thinks."
"Only you know this," you whispered, your hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes, pulse soaring as he groaned. "Does it feel good, Matty?"
"Fuck—Christ—" his breath was jagged, words ripped from his throat like they barely wanted to come out, hips jerking mindlessly. "Tighter, mm—little tighter—"
Your cunt throbbed—each whispered invocation of a god not his own, of something he didn't believe in, forced a shudder through you. That's how you knew. Knew how lost he was. He’d no mind left at all if he was muttering muggle gods.
"Like that?" Your fingers squeezed around him, your gaze burning into his as you looked up through fluttering lashes.
His face was a storm—flushed, eyes half-shut—but at your voice they opened and flicked down to yours, and for once, there was no arrogance, no mockery in that stare. Just raw, primal need, burning so fiercely it made you ache. His hips rocked, desperate for more. Painfully. A hole in his chest torn wide open for you to see, and he didn't care. Couldn't care.
"Yeah—shit—just like that," he gritted out, grip on your hips bruising, but you welcomed it. Needed it. "Fast learner, aren't you?"
"You're a good teacher," you whimpered, a sound that was barely yours as his fingers slipped between your thighs, finding your slit, teasing you open again. "Oh—"
"You've always been a little teacher's pet," he groaned, thrusting into your hand as he slipped a finger inside you. The stretch made you wince, pleasure and pain blurring into something that sent sparks behind your eyes. He watched you, gaze molten. "Fuck—it’s gonna hurt, you know that, right?"
The ache spread through you, but you didn't flinch. "I know," you whispered as his thumb found your clit, making you gasp. "I trust you."
"I know you do." His voice dropped, eyes dark and soft at once as he pushed another finger inside. "You know you’ve always had me wrapped around your fucking finger. You know I care about you—“
His words were too much, pressing on something fragile inside you, and you pulled him into a kiss to shut him up—deep, desperate, drowning. Your hand tightened on his length, the heat between you flaring, and you moaned against his mouth, shaking with the need for more.
"I want you," you breathed, each syllable shivering on your lips as you clenched around his fingers. "I've wanted you for months—"
Months? No, it had been years. Years of wanting, needing, watching from afar, heart in your throat. Years of avoiding anyone else because no one was him. You knew he’d felt the same and it killed him. It wasn't logical, wasn't supposed to be like this—not with you, not now, not his best friend's little sister, not him whispering sweet, dangerous things while knuckle-deep inside your virgin cunt.
It was as if you both shook those thoughts from your minds at once. You’ll think about the implications later.
"You've got me," he rasped, hips grinding involuntarily against your hand. "Just—fuck—don't hate me after this."
Hate him? The very idea was laughable, absurd. You could never hate him. Not even in those moments you tried, not even when he deserved it.
"I could never hate you," you murmured, drawing him closer, lips trembling against his. "Just—please—"
Something shifted in his eyes, and he knew. Knew what you needed. What you both needed. You were vulnerable, trembling, but you trusted him—completely. You’d been in his life for so long. You knew he’d never hurt you. He could see it your eyes, the trust, the in the way your body bent to his touch.
"Alright," he said softly, a hand running up your body to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek. "Alright."
His fingers slid out of you, leaving you bare and breathless, and you swallowed. This was really about to happen.
"Lay back," his voice cut through your haze. "Legs to your chest."
The command wrapped around you like a vice, tightening the anticipation, and you fell back on your elbows, staring up at him as you raised your legs. Vulnerability crept in, making your thighs tense, but Mattheo was there, spreading you open with firm hands, pressing himself against your slick. His eyes were locked onto yours, all that self-assurance gone, melted into something more human—something raw, unguarded.
You could feel it; the vulnerability of this moment stretched between you both—the distance you'd maintained for so long, the careful walls you'd built, were nothing now. He was in too deep, and so were you.
"Stop me at any time," he whispered, his voice a raw rasp, eyes meeting yours. "Just breathe.”
He leaned down until his lips ghosted over yours, and you kissed him like the world might collapse if you didn't. He guided himself against you, the press of him at your entrance an unbearable ache. He was hot, hard, huge—and despite the wetness slicking down your thighs, your body resisted, too tight, too unsure of this.
You whimpered, instinctively trying to pull away, but he stayed, pressing kisses to your hair, your temple, whispering something that sounded like comfort but burned like fire. It hurt more than you expected, more than any of the fantasies you had dared to entertain.
Doubt curled through your chest, what if you couldn't take him? What if—
"M-Mattheo..." his name broke in your throat as you clutched his arm, nails digging into his skin. He tried to push in again, but your body resisted. "It—you—you can't fit..."
"Shh," his lips ghosted over yours, his hand slipping through your hair, trying again, moving slow, controlled. "You're just—so goddamn tight—"
The way he said it sent a spark through your veins. It was filthy, shameless, and it lit you up from the inside, despite the pain. No one had ever spoken to you like this. You swallowed the lump in your throat, tears pricking as he tried to work you open.
And then—he was in.
"I-it hurts," you hissed—pain lighting up your spine as he worked his cockhead inside you, pushing against the resistance of your walls. His breath came in sharp, ragged bursts, each inch a battle. The pressure was unbearable, the sting so sharp it was paralyzing. "Oh, fuck, Mattheo—"
He groaned, a sound from deep within his chest, his head bowing, sweat creeping over his brow.
"Shhh, I know—I know..." he murmured through shredded cords, fighting to maintain control as his hips paused, barely halfway in, just enough to make you feel like you might break. "S'okay...you're doing so good..."
It was overwhelming—the fullness, the ache that felt like it might split you in two. And yet, beneath the pain, something else stirred. His words, soft and rough all at once, made the sensation bearable, turned the hurt into something else. You focused on his voice, on the way he stroked your hair, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
"Why—mmff—gods..." you could barely speak, the words tangled in your throat. "Why do you have to be so big—"
A strangled laugh escaped him, though his eyes stayed shut tight, his jaw clenched—cock twitching inside you.
"I don't—fuck—know." His fingers brushed your lips, covering your mouth gently. "Don't go talking like that—not right now—"
You might have laughed, too, if your body wasn't so taut, strung tight with tension and pain and something far more profound. He was barely inside you, his words making your insides clench, drawing another groan from his lips at the squeeze.
His hand held your jaw, palm pressing lightly over your mouth, enough to breathe, to speak—
"Why—" you knew what he meant, knew the warning in his eyes, but you couldn't stop yourself. "—not?"
His breath hitched. "Because—" he swallowed hard, words coming through gritted teeth, his fingers tightening around your jaw, a warning in his grip. "Because—fuck—your mouth will get you in trouble."
Oh. That was what he meant.
"But—oh fuck—you're so...big..." the words slipped out before you could catch them, a disgruntled moan falling from your lips as he sank all the way in, filling you so completely it was dizzying. The pressure, the heat, the sensation of being pried open—it was all too much, and you cried out, unable to stop the sound from spilling out. "Ohhh—so big—"
"I said, fuck," he cursed, hand clamping firm over your mouth now as his body shuddered, as he ground his hips gently into yours. "—don't say that."
It was too late. You didn't need to say anything further. He could feel it—he could feel everything in the way you clenched around him, barely letting him move—so goddamn tight it was almost painful—he could feel it in the look in your eyes, in the trembling of your body beneath his.
"I can feel you thinking it," he grunted as you squirmed beneath him, every movement making him twitch inside you, drawing another choked groan from his throat. "Merlin sakes—"
You knew he wasn't used to this. To slowing down, to drawing out the tension like this, to the maddening slowness of every motion. He wanted to lose himself, to break you open hard and fast, to take and give and take again until both of you shattered into something unrecognizable. But he couldn't—not with the way your eyes glistened, not with the way you gasped and whimpered as he filled you.
"No talking," he sucked in a breath against your neck, his hips rolling into yours in slow, unbearable waves. "Only if you need me to stop."
He was breaking. So were you. Every thrust was an exquisite kind of torture—an ache that twisted and stretched, dulled only by the flick of his fingers against your clit. His lips pressed along your neck, kissed along the line of your jaw, groaning with each deep, patient push, carving his way into you as you clung to him, your mind floating through the fog of pain into something different—something overwhelming.
Your head fell back. “Oh—Oh gods—“
Each gasp felt like it might be your last as that something built deep inside you, tight and unfamiliar, an ache that didn't hurt but begged to be released. And he felt it too—Mattheo felt it, the way your body pulsed beneath his, the way you tightened around him like you couldn't bear to let him go.
"Bloody fuck—are you—are you going to—" his words were ragged, broken. He couldn't finish the thought, couldn't hold himself together. "Are you—"
“Mattheo—” your voice trembled, a breathless moan as your back arched, pressing into him, your body seeking more. The pain was null now, replaced by an overwhelming pressure, something tight and aching and good—you felt every inch of him inside you, every pulse of his cock as he moved, slow but relentless. “Mattheo—oh gods—”
"Fuck—" he bit down, teeth sinking into your neck as his fingers swirled your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. "You're gonna make me—"
You choked because there was no space for words, no breath for anything but the raw sound of your bodies—moans, gasps, ragged inhales tangled together as you both hurtled towards something inevitable. The light of the moon radiated the man above you and that was all you could register other than the rising crescendo of your climax—something so intense it scared you, almost broke you apart—your body seizing, trembling, as his fingers pressed harder against your clit, as he thrust deeper.
And then, there was only one more blink until you shattered beneath him, the orgasm tearing through you in oceanic motion, muscles clenching around him so tightly he could barely move—and then he was there, too, his body jerking as he groaned into your skin, his release ripped from him in jagged gasps as you milked him without mercy. He slumped on top of you, fingers digging into your skin, the two of you pulsing together in the aftermath, the room spinning, your bodies still trembling from the force of it.
The world was slow to return, the roar of sensations fading into something quieter, softer. The weight of him on top of you was grounding—his forehead pressed against the crook of your neck, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Neither of you moved for a long while, just basked in the silence, kind that settled in after something irrevocable had passed between two people.
And then, Mattheo pushed up, enough to meet your eyes. Your chest ached at the softness inside his own.
“Are you—” he swallowed as he drank you in, the sheen of sweat on your skin, the flushed cheeks. His words hung in the air as if he didn’t know how to finish the question.
“I’m okay,” you nodded, voice hoarse. “I’m good.”
Mattheo nodded too but didn’t move, still buried inside you, just taking you in. Then, gently, he shifted, pulling back with a slow, careful movement that made you wince slightly. The second he’d pulled out, you felt different—more aware of the vulnerability you’d just laid bare, more aware of the line you two had just obliterated into absolute shambles.
“You sure?” he asked, a flicker of something deeper in his gaze—
You nodded again, the smallest smile pulling at your lips, though your heart was still racing, the enormity of it all sinking in.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m sure.”
His jaw tightened, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek.
“This changes everything, doesn’t it?” His voice was barely audible, like he didn’t want to admit it out loud.
Of course he was thinking it too—how could he not? This was no longer something you could pretend didn’t exist, no longer something you could hide behind banter and stolen glances and secret kisses.
“Yeah,” you breathed, fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the tension there, the heat still radiating from his skin. “It does.”
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jazjelspen · 11 months ago
Text
my angel baby
(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)
[caution!!: EPISODE 8 & 6 SPOILERS. NOT PROOFREAD]
(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )
(right now this is considered a oneshot, unless there is a very high demand for a part 2 I'll happily make another one for funzies!)
(PART 2 IS OUT!!!)
(also apologies if alastor's last name isnt actually altruist LMAo I kinda just wrote it assuming so 😭 )
You made it to heaven, lucky you.
Heaven was surely a treat, you lived your days with the upmost happiness, the light of heaven shining on your skin with kisses as if praising you for your goodness and your sacrifices,
all your sacrifices.
You were currently taking the job over for St. Peter at the gates of heaven for just a few minutes to await for any wondering souls to appear, to help guide them while he came back from a lunch break. Normally they wouldn't allow a human soul like yourself with little experience in this kind of task to take charge of such an important job, but you were close to many of the high ranking angels and you have proved your proficiency in tasks that you set your mind to, so you were glad to help those in need.
You stood there reading through the millions of pages looking over all kinds of names, all seemed like names that you wouldn't normally hear back in your time when you died. Some you liked, others didn't exactly pique your interest much, but the advancement of names since the 1930s surely proved how much times have changed and how quickly time seems to pass in heaven.
You wonder if it is in hell too.
'Hell?..' you wondered as you shook your head and sighed, your mind has been on that place lately and you wondered if it was even worth the rent free space in your mind.
You were currently slouched over the book and decided to close it with a glum look on your face, your elbows now resting on the golden podium and your hands cupping your face.
Geez, and you've been thinking a lot about your old man.
What-- no wait-
You shouldn't call him your old man, let alone your dad, not even father, pops-- not even by his damn name.
Even so, as much as you hated it.. you couldn't help but still use his last name sometimes since it's what you were given when you were first taken in.
Your last name?.. why, you're forgetting already?
_____ Altruist is who you a---
"HELLO??"
You snapped out of your thoughts as your head slipped from under your palms, face planting onto the cover of the enormous book. In embarrassment you snapped your head back up and your wings followed suit, spreading open behind you in shock as your eyes searched for the voice that called out to you from below.
You finally darted down to see three oddly shaped figures, your panicked vision soon relaxing to see two girls and a man dressed in red from tip to toe.
How peculiar.
Your eyes only set on the girl at the moment since she was the one waving at you and basically begging for your attention.
"Hello hello! uh.. Down here!" The girl with long locks of pale yellow hair waved, her smile widening when seeing she's caught your attention.
"Ah- yes yes! Hello hello! Welcome to Heaven! May I.. uh-" you scrambled nervously to open the book in the middle of it, "May I have your name please?"
She nodded, also returning a bit of a shy attitude back "Yes of course! My names Charlie Morningstar!"
Just like that you flicked the pages to go to the names that sounded similar to the girl's, mumbling her name under your breath as your finger traced down each name on the list.. to your dismay you couldn't find it.
"You don't seem to be on the list ma'am.. how weird.. does this usually happen with St. Peter?.." you spoke in concern, mumbling the last part to yourself.
The girl then started to explain something about her dad getting her a meeting, your mind a little clouded still trying to find her name until you heard the forbidden name that no one inside the pearly gates ever attempted to say out loud.
"-- maybe try, Lucifer.. Morning...star-"
And just like that you slammed the book closed, no words coming out of your mouth but an exasperated look of shock freezing your face.
"Oh-hoho... that explains so much--" you gave her a small sheepish smile, awkwardly looking off to the side where your eyes couldn't help but drag themselves to the man dressed in red.
"Miss you don't think.. you could've..." your eyes at first looked at the man's waist, his coat lightly shredded at the ends and the stripes of the long suit guided your eyes upwards "-gotten..." up and up and your eyes met his. The red eyes, the ears, the small horns, the horrific aura, and..
Oh dear, you'd recognize that damned smile anywhere.
"--lost..?" the end of your sentence dragged on, taking a long while to finish since all you could think about is how this man is at the front door step of the place he shouldn't even be considered in being let to enter.
Alastor, your father from the living realm. Not connected by blood but by life and connection.
The man where you got your last name from by being taken in and called his daughter.
The red deer demon seemed to recognize you as well, a spark in his devilish eyes proved it so, but it was very brief since he more or less also seemed to relish the look on your face with his smile stretched further up.. however further up it could get.
Charlie seemed concerned at your reaction, waving her hand in front of your face gently as if to get you out of this trance. "Heyyy... are you okay?.." she asked with genuine worry until all of you were focused away from this bizarre moment when a set of three angels befell before you all. The two seraphims and finally-- St. Peter off from his break.
"_____. We can take it from here, we appreciate the help." The highest and oldest seraphim announced your name and her appreciation while gliding down a bit more earlier than the blonde angel you covered for, she and the younger seraphim's forms going from their true to more human-like appearances.
"_____! My dear friend thank you so much for covering for me, always a real helper you!" St. Peter popped beside you as he praised you while gently flying beside you, you looked up at him with a small nervous smile before opening your own wings to flap down from his podium and let him get back on the job.
"It's no problem at all, you know me! Always.. happy to help.." you spoke your last words to him before your wings gently took you down to set yourself beside another one of your friends, Emily! You never talked much to Sera that wasn't in a formal setting but Emily seemed so easy to get along with. She gave you a tight squeeze of a hug while saying hello which eased your nerves a bit more, of course they never fully disappeared with the man who ruined everything before you let out your last breath.. standing right in front of you.
The man that brought you up here in the first place.
The seraphims introduced themselves to the three residents of hell, the deer demon more quiet until finally finding a spot of silence to jump in and introduce himself as well.
"Why hello, a real pleasure meeting you two quite the pleasure! Never thought I'd ever get to see an angel up this close in my life HAHA! The names Alastor!"
The voice, the radio static over it, his name.
It was him, you recognized it as if you listened to him on the radio just yesterday, your own personal hell.
Whatever reaction or words the higher ranked angels said seemed to fizzle out of your brain as they were replaced with the memories of your last moments on earth.
------------------------------------------------------------------
"Father!" you screamed as you ran up to your childhood home, the home to which you were raised and kept in, your home in which you lived in with your father, Alastor Altruist.
For sometime you had suspected foul play when it came to your father's weird actions when the night came, the tone he spoke through his radio show when announcing several murders happening across and haunting New Orleans. You just didn't want to truly believe that the man that found you, a poor little orphaned baby, and raised you would do such disgusting and diabolical crimes.
You couldn't believe it.. until you finally saw it.
Your legs scrambled and fought each step to become faster, finally reaching the door of your home you slammed it open with a strong kick after jiggling the doorknob didn't work.
You knew the next murder he would commit would happen in your home.. you thanked whatever force that made you disobey him and look through his study since if you didn't you wouldn't know that right now there was blood to be shed.
The door opening and with your kick full of adrenaline and panic it made the door barley cling onto it's hinges. There your father was, on top of a wounded man that seemed to be gurgling and gasping to breathe as the victim attempted to claw at Alastor's grasp. Pieces of glass and wood broken across the entire floor, walls bloodied and worn out, pictures that hung neatly now cracked and lopsided or shattered on the floor.
Whatever happened in here, the victim was sure a fighter in the beginning.
You immediately without hesitation with full force pushed Alastor off the man, pulling the bloodied stranger by his wrist. The victim and you stared for a moment, him mostly realizing that he's being saved by a young girl like you. His lips parted to thank you but you could see Alastor raise his kitchen knife in the air and sprinted toward him to stab him on the back.
With no words left to share or spill you grabbed the stranger by the shoulders and with all your might pushed him and yourself away so that in the end Alastor ended up stabbing nothing but air.
Alastor grunted in frustration, his bloodied smile yet never faltering despite the challenge you now gave him.
The man snapped his head at you, eyes fixated at you before snapping back to his victim and raising his knife up once more, in a haunting motion his steps creeped and creaked towards the injured New Orleans citizen stricken with fear and terror.
Just like that, Alastor slams his knife down with no hesitation. The knife fully in his prey with no inch of the blade uncovered.
Oh-- wait.
That shriek, the sobs, the shaky breathing and the coughs of blood.. that wasn't his victim.
It was you.
His daughter, he stabbed his daughter.
For a moment you could see his crazed smile falter, the humane part of him uncovering itself for a moment, for you.
His little girl was covered in her blood because of him, the little baby he found on that cold rainy day is dying because of him, his bundle of joy that he took years to take care of is leaving him.. and it's all his fault.
He didn't know it was you-- he didn't know you'd be that stupid to sacrifice yourself for some random prick.
He didn't know that in the end, someone as evil as him could have raised someone as selfless as you.
"p..papa..?" you whimpered, your painful coughs of blood spilling out and going down your chin and your neck. "It hurts-- g.. it hurts so much papa.." you cried as the knife in your chest seemed to feel as if it was melting into your skin, becoming one with you. It obviously wasn't but the pain was just that painful.
Alastor's smile faltered and kept trying to stay up, his own set of tears falling down his face and onto your cheeks that were slowly losing life. Regret stabbing his own heart the way he did to yours. He let go of the knife and instead cradled you in his arms, just like how he used to when you would have nightmares as a little girl.
"Shh.. Shh.." he shush you softly as he gently patted your head, moving away any uneven strands of hair he could spot with his hands trembling in regret. "Little one.. don't worry about a thing, papa's here.. " he mumbled, the gentleness replacing what once was pure aggressiveness.
Your eyes slowly started to flutter closed, your pulse slowing down, breathing less profound, your limbs going limp, and your face.. contorting into a peaceful state of slumber.
Alastor watched as you passed in his arms, his faltering smile picking itself up once more to stretch itself across his face with tears pouring out his eyes. This wasn't a smile of joy, it was a smile to hide what he truly felt.. to lie to himself. "My little angel, forgive me please."
Those were his last words to you, words that in the end you couldn't hear.
And that man he tried to kill earlier? He escaped when he was given the chance, Alastor was sure the cops were to invade his home soon.. now there was just one thing left to do before he'd be found once again to pay the consequences.
He took your body to a beautiful forest filled with flower meadows. Alastor knew this was one of your favorite spots as a young girl, why not let you rest here.
Ah but as he was preparing to bury you in your final resting place... that darn deer hunter.
Well, you know the story. Mistaken for a deer, shot, that's the end of Alastor Altruist and his darling daughter, ______ Altruist.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As you stood there you were awoken from your thoughts with the high angels escorting the princess and her other female companion into the gates of heaven, St. Peter welcoming them humbly with one of heaven's popular songs.
You were frozen, in shock. A chill went down your spine as you felt a foreign energy come closer.
You felt long fingers grapple themselves onto your shoulder which made you dramatically turn towards the hand and away from it.
Your father wanted to talk to you.
Your contrasting colors and appearances made this reunitement even more uncomfortable for you, his demon form seeming to match his disgusting self that he hid from the human world before.
His face was hard to read, especially with that signature smile of his that even in death he would never get rid of.
"Little one, my darling daughter.." he spoke, his voice seemingly trying to seem genuine but the radio filter over it made it feel condescending to you.. as if mocking you.
The look on your face was evident, you missed him so much but hated him with your entire being because of that hidden side he kept for years.
He continued "My little ____... out of all places I never thought I'd see you here. Oh but it's definitely much better than down under my little dove.."
Geez what was he even saying?? What were his intentions..?? You couldn't tell.. after all this time, you couldn't forgive this man, this serial killer, this demon, this.. monster. You couldn't.. not this soon anyways.
You took a deep inhale and exhale before fixing your posture and stance, trying to seem more professional and confident. "Sir, your hosts and companions are ahead of you. You wouldn't want to miss your introduction to a place you'll never see again after this day." Your voice stern and professional, trying your best to be void of emotion.
"Darling.. is that truly a way to greet your dear ol' father?" He spoke, hand stretched out while the other held onto his staff.
"Your friends are waiting on you, don't be late Alastor."
Just like that you turned your heel and gave him the cold shoulder, your wings spread and started flapping. Taking you up and away further into your home.. Alastor watched you as you left him once again, this time by choice.
Ah but he knew, he'd have his darling daughter back soon. His little angel that he cared for will forgive him.. he knew you had to.
With his grin widening even further he walked to catch up to the Princess of hell and her partner into the pearly gates, to see what other thing could entertain him while his daughter snapped back to her senses.
(hello!! thank you so much for reading I had a blast with this. as you can tell. once again thank you so much for reading! hope to see you soon! mwa mwa!)
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