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jiminscockr1ng · 8 months ago

Note

hi! i love your works. can i put in a request? joon or jk x reader. arranged marriage. breeding kink and pregnancy scare. thank you for your service🫡🙏🏾

✩｡°𝄞🍼 TRY AGAIN✨𝄞°｡✩

╝ requested / one-shot ╔

╰ ₊ 𓂂➢ pairing: namjoon x fem!reader

╰ ₊ 𓂂➢ genre: arranged marriage au, smut, angst, a little fluff.

╰ ₊ 𓂂➢ warn!ngs: breeding kink, pregnancy scare, mentions (suggestive) of infidelity, degradation (usage of slut), reader is a brat, reader has a high libido, oral (namjoon and reader), squirting, unprotected sex, mentions of birth control, spanking, hair pulling, rough sex, negative pregnancy test, mention of (trying for) children. (let me know if there’s more!)

╰ ₊ 𓂂➢ summary: your arranged husband punishes you after causing a scene and acting like a brat.

╰ ₊ 𓂂➢ word count: 3,765 words

The sounds of slapping bounces off of the walls like gun shots. Your face is buried into the large fluffy pillows on your king sized bed with your ass raised in the air. Giving Namjoon, your husband, the perfect access to spank your behind.

When the sharp, burning, sting— a millisecond of pain and pleasure is inflicted upon your ass again you let out a whimper into the black silk pillow. As the indecent sounds exit your mouth, Namjoon couldn’t stop the depraved thoughts that battle their way through his mind. You just looked so fucking sexy. So vulnerable and submissive before him, he could just eat you whole right now.

But that wouldn’t be right, now would it? After all, you were a bad girl. You brought this on yourself.

You didn’t think Namjoon would just forget about the way you rubbed your ass against that man on the dance floor? No. He’s not that graceful. You’re his wife, for god sakes. Even if you didn’t take this arranged marriage serious, he must show you that he is. He is taking this very seriously.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is to have people asking if the woman causing a scene on the floor is my wife? Huh?” He begrudgingly asks, caressing your ass that is two slaps away from bruising.

You deserved it, the way you seductively eyed him while dancing on another man replays in his mind. He best not be fooled by your little innocent and submissive act right now, you whimpering and whining. He knows you’re a brat.

When his parents first introduced you to him, he knew he’d eventually fall for you. Despite the distasteful you held on your face that entire meeting. You didn’t approve of the arrangement, Namjoon knew that. So he gave you space. But of course, one thing leads to another. Especially when you’re flew out to Italy for a honeymoon, a villa all to yourselves. If you recall correctly, you believe the two of you fucked in all 8 rooms. Plus the kitchen… and the bathroom… the couch, the garden, the pool, the arcade room— damn there everywhere.

Needless to say, Namjoon has been pussy whipped ever since. Becoming helpful, loving and caring— all the amazing qualities one could find in a husband. Along with those qualities, he grew possessive over you, rightfully so, you’re his wife. But it seems like regardless of anything he did, you still seemed to show little to no care for the man. Except for what was between his legs. Because babes, the dick is bomb!

Recently Namjoon has been depriving you from the ‘bomb dick’. So you did what any brat would do. You acted out. Unfortunately for Namjoon, that led to complete and utter embarrassment, displayed in front of all of his friends at a work event. But who cares about that, right?!

Because fortunately for you, Namjoon is spewing all kinds of sexy little insults at you, dirty talking your panties right off.

“Do you enjoy being a fucking slut?” Another slap is planted on your ass. You let out a gasp before biting down on your bottom lip. Useless, as to when he grabs a handful of your hair, roughly yanking it back, your mouth falls agape.

“You like that shit, huh?” You eagerly nod your head, so high off of the thought of getting fucked up. This is exactly what you wanted. Namjoon always gives you exactly what you want.

You strain yourself forward to close in on his lips. His lips wraps around yours as you share a sloppy kiss. Your teeth graze his bottom lip as you pull back. What you do next makes Namjoon lose his shit.

You giggle.

Like actually fucking giggle in his face. Without thinking, he grabs your face, pulling you back in for a hot yet desperate kiss. Namjoon’s eyes furrow into it, trying to get some sort of understanding. He needs to understand how you do it. How you act so heinous one second and then so admirable the next. Even now, you’re submitting to him. But Namjoon knows more than anyone that you have him wrapped around your cute little finger.

The hold on your face doesn’t leave as Namjoon roughly pulls away to marvel in your beauty. Your gorgeously melanated skin, your two toned lips, and those big brown almond eyes he willingly falls victim to. There’s a smirk that plasters on your face that Namjoon doesn’t miss.

“Am I being a good little slut for you?” Namjoon couldn’t hide his widened eyes. He’s angry— completely enraged, you mustn’t forget. But as usual, he gives in. Because you’re in control. “Fuck yes.” He whispers out before flipping you over, absolutely manhandling you. Your figure bounces on the bed as Namjoon hovers over you.

“You don’t even know just how crazy you make me.” He mutters in your ear. Your hands wrap around his neck, fingers traveling through his short blonde locks. “Show me.” You lick at his jawline, slowly nibbling on the chiseled edge. “Show me how crazy I make you, baby.”

Without a second to waste, Namjoon lifts up, attacking the buttons of his black dress pants. He slips them down to his ankles along with his briefs, kicking them off to the floor. The thick, long, pink tipped length you desire is revealed. You lick your lips just to make sure you aren’t drooling. He gives his length a few pumps before his hands are replaced with yours. This is what you’ve been begging for, what you desired and needed inside of you for weeks.

Hell, you even danced on some random middle aged man just to get it. You love it! Namjoon would battle that you love it more than its owner. Especially the way you kiss the tip. Like you’re finally meeting the love of your life after years of being apart. Namjoon breath is shaky when he exhales. Your lips wrap around his tip, you close your eyes and let out a moan, sending vibrations through his dick. “Don’t tease.” He says sternly. And you look up at him, his tip still resting in your mouth.

You look absolutely angelic. The way your big doe eyes innocently look up at him with his dick in your mouth. He could just cum at this image alone. “I’m sorry, baby.” You say with a feigned apologetic tone and expression.

Even if you aren’t sorry, Namjoon is immediately relieved once you take his whole length in your mouth. Your nose touching his lower stomach as you slightly choke. The little gag reflex doesn’t stop you from showing your love to the pretty dick. Namjoon lets out low pitched moans as you continue to attack his length, your performance growing messy. Something you quite liked. What can you say? You’re a proud slut.

But still a brat. You back away from Namjoon’s dick, resting yourself on your elbows that are propped up behind you. Namjoon lets out a groan at the abandonment of your mouth. Instead, you spread your legs, quickly slipping off the soaked black thong you were sporting.

“Look,” you say as your hands reach for your wet cunt— fully exposed, you slip your fingers through before showing them to the man before you. “Look how wet you make me.” You say and you can see Namjoon’s dick twitch at that. You slip your coated digits in your mouth, sucking off your own arousal.

Namjoon is actually fucking shook by your pornographic performance. He knew you had a high libido but damn… he think you might even have him beat.

“You want to taste— or you gonna just keep kneeling in front of me.” You raised a brow, growing impatient. Namjoon is in utter disbelief that you’re his wife. He doesn’t know what he did in his past life to get so lucky. Yet, due to the circumstances, he can’t quite figure out whether he is or not. He shakes away his thoughts, though. He can’t ignore the highly appetizing meal that glistens in front of him right now. The meal he dives into.

His tongue ventures through your folds, mouth sucking on your swollen clit. You throw your head back as Namjoon’s mouth brings you the familiar pleasure that you have wholeheartedly missed. He enters two digits inside of you as his tongue flicked at your clit. You grasp onto his blonde hair as he eats your pussy out like no man ever has. “Fuck yes! Just like that.” Namjoon holds your thigh with his free hand, spreading them wider. His fingers move faster inside of you and you can feel yourself growing closer. You scream out an excessive amount of “yes”s and eventually squirt in his mouth.

Namjoon freezes as you release— not once but twice into his mouth. He looks at the way your chest heaves up and down. That wasn’t enough for him. He needed to be inside of you now. Without any warning, Namjoon slips his dick into your sex, slowly stretching your pussy out. Your legs shake as he makes his way through. “You feel so fucking good.” He mumbles as he thrusts into your pussy again.

The pace almost instantly quickens, the hunger and need from both of you takes over. “I missed your dick so much.” You say as you trail your hands up his chest, caressing over his thickly defined pecks. “Mhn— you’re such a fucking slut. Causing a scene just to get my dick inside of you.” He grabs your hands and places them above your head, restraining you from touching him.

“You feel so good inside of me— ah!” You moan out as Namjoon thrusts deeper inside of your wet pussy. “Fuh— faster, please!” You beg and Namjoon continues to thrust deeper inside of you.

“You’re begging now?” He mocks. It’s quite entertaining to see, actually. He bends down to grab your face, slowing the pace down to tease you even more. “Oh, you don’t like that, do you?” You desperately shake your head. “Beg me to go faster.” Stubbornly, you stay quiet as your pussy aches around his length that slowly strokes inside of you. His lips rest just above yours. “Come on,” he murmurs softly against your lips.” “I wanna hear my little slut beg for dick.” You moan at his words, growing even more aroused.

“Please Joon.” You bite your lip as the grip on your jaw grows tighter. “Please fuck me faster! I— I need your dick.” You beg.

And just like that— you should’ve braced yourself. Namjoon slams his dick inside of your tight hole. Your body jerks at each thrusts. You scream out as Namjoon abuses your tiny cunt. Your screams could be heard throughout the whole two story house.

You look up at Namjoon who is hovering over you while slamming his dick into you. He looks so sexy the way his blonde hair clings onto his dampened face. The sweat trickling down the sides of his face. The sounds of your skin clapping together and the arousal from your pussy lapping up around his dick is sending you over the edge. You feel yourself growing close again.

Namjoon pulls your legs over his shoulders as he fucks into you. You’re completely fucked out— your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel Namjoon hit your spot. You don’t even notice when he attaches his lips onto yours again. You feel yourself unraveling underneath him.

“I’m gonna— mm” You say against his lips. Namjoon nods, breathing heavily. “Cum for me.” He slurs and on command you release yourself around his dick. Namjoon lifts up, still thrusting himself into you. You can feel his dick twitch inside of your pussy, signaling his high.

“Cum inside of me.” You say, eagerly. He looks down at you with an uncertain expression but you nod your head. “Please, cum inside of my pussy.” You whine and Namjoon groans at the sound of your begging. “Fuck.”

Immediately, you feel the warm, sticky, drags of cum release inside of you. You moan at the feeling. He doesn’t pull out. Instead, his chest meet yours and the two of you share another erotic kiss.

It’s been two weeks since that night Namjoon had fucked your brains out. Ever since that night, he hasn’t touched you. Most likely still angry about the events that occurred before he fucked your brains out. Rightfully so— even you can admit that you crossed the line that night. Did you mention he fucked your brains out?

Nevertheless, you have bigger fish to fry. You’re late on your period. You should’ve gotten it a few days ago but the red flood never showed.

Yes, you’re on birth control. Still, inevitably you miss a few days because of your inconsistent schedule so it may not be that effective. Especially not when you beg your husband to cum inside of you.

You wince at the thought as you rest your head on the bathroom door. A few hours ago you went to go pick up a few pregnancy tests from the store. You can’t help but overthink while you wait for the stick you just peed on to tell you whether or not you’re pregnant. You try to imagine the possibility of becoming a mother, how you would act and how you’d speak. How Namjoon would react when you tell him you’re pregnant. Him as a father.

You’re immediately snapped out of your thoughts when you hear the front door slam.

Namjoon’s home.

Your heart rate immediately increases and you pray that he’ll continue ignoring your existence just like he has the past two weeks.

It seems that god is not on your side because you can clearly hear his footsteps approaching the bathroom. Of course he has to go to the bathroom. You just want to cry but that wouldn’t be much help either.

The door handle to the bathroom turns but doesn’t open. The lock on the door stopping him from entering. After a few seconds, he knocks. You flinch at the sound, looking around the bathroom for a way out. Obviously, at a loss when u realize that you’re trapped inside the four walls.

“_______, open the door I have to use the bathroom.” You hear him say behind the door. You look at the pregnancy test on the sink to see that nothing has changed. You silently curse to yourself. Why the fuck is this piss stick taking so long.

“_______.” You hear your name again, along with a few knocks. “I— I’m using the bathroom.” There’s a sigh on the other side of the door. “Well, can you hurry? I’m about to piss myself.” He adds, impatiently to which you roll your eyes.

“Use the guest bathroom!” You shout defensively. Due to you being on the other side of the door, you can’t see the way Namjoon’s brows furrow together. You two never use the guest bathroom even if someone is taking a shit. It’s like an unspoken rule.

“I swear to god _______, open the door. I’ve seen you shitting like a thousand times already.” It’s true, you really couldn’t care less what Namjoon had to say about your smelly poop. Unlike Namjoon who would beg you to leave. But you’re running out of excuses.

“Namjoon, fucking— ugh! Just go to the other bathroom!” You spaz and Namjoon is left with only one thought.

“Is there someone in there with you?” He asks and when you grow silent he makes up his mind. You honestly didn’t know what to say, you were taken aback. How could he think so lowly of you?

“You brought a man into our house _______?” The sound of his voice is a mixture of hurt and anger. And maybe you would feel bad for the man if you weren’t too busy trying to pick your jaw up off the floor. Because… how dare he?

“What the fuck are you talking about? Why would I bring someone into our house?!” You’re pissed that he would even think you would do some shady shit like that. I mean yes, shaking ass on another man in front of his coworkers is bad but bringing another man into your house while he’s gone… that’s fucking low. Even for you.

“Why?” He mockingly repeats before letting out an unhumorous laugh. “Because you don’t want to be in this marriage, that’s why! I wouldn’t be surprised if you brought someone here just to rub that shit in my face.” You angrily swing the door open, absolutely not giving a shit about the stupid pregnancy test on the bathroom sink. You are livid and now Namjoon is going to hear your mouth. Face to face.

“As much as I don’t want to be in the marriage I still have respect for you and I would never bring anyone into this house.” You shout at him. The man is way taller than you but somehow you’re still all up in his face.

“I don’t even know where you would get that idea from. Unless you had another woman in our house.” You fold your arms over your chest. Okay… you knew Namjoon would never bring another woman into this house. You just had to give him a taste of his own medicine. And the expression on his face is so worth it.

“I would never do that to you.” He says, more reassuring than defensive. “I’m the one who is always desperately trying to make this marriage work. I want this to work.” His voice turns soft and he steps closer to you to grab your hands. You couldn’t even be angry at him. Not when he’s right.

You see how hard he’s trying everyday to get through to you. However, you can’t help but be angry. You didn’t want this marriage and you know it’s not his fault but hell… someone had to be at fault. So you take your anger out on him. Looking up at the man you can’t help but feel bad.

“Look,” he says. “I’m sorry for accusing you of bringing someone here— that was fucked up and I shouldn’t have taken it there. I’m just… a little insecure right now and that’s something that I need to work on.” His explanation makes you want to shower him with kisses and hugs. There’s no way you’ve made this man think lowly of himself. The man is absolutely breathtaking and could have anyone he wanted.

If the circumstances were different you would’ve approached him anyway. He’s exactly the type of man you always wanted in your life.

“Don’t apologize.” You focus your eyes on the ground. “It’s my fault, I’ve been acting really bitchy and giving you a hard time.” Your eyes finally meet his again and there’s nothing but disbelief behind them. He doesn’t even think he’s hearing you correctly. There’s no way you’re apologizing.

“You don’t have to work on anything— you’re perfect, Namjoon. I… have to work on being a better wife.” Namjoon swears he hears fireworks going off somewhere. He doesn’t even think before pulling you into a tight hug. Completely forgetting about the urine that was previously begging to be released. And you forget all about the stupid pregnancy test that rests on the sink.

Until Namjoon see’s it. He hesitantly pulls back from the hug, looking as if he seen a ghost. “Joon, what’s wrong?” You ask, worried that there actually might be ghosts in your house. That’d be a real bummer— this house costed a fortune.

“You’re pregnant?” He mindlessly say, still eyeing the pregnancy test on the sink. Your heart drops at the words, eye widening. “I am?!” In an instant you turn around to check the stick. Picking you up you notice the red line going through it.

Only one red line.

You stare at that line for a moment, feeling disappointed for some reason. You waited for what felt like ages for the test to process. Thinking of the future and what type of mother you’d be, how Namjoon would be an amazing father. And it’s negative.

“It’s negative.” You say and Namjoon can’t make out your emotion. You throw the stick out in the waste bin before spinning around the face Namjoon. “I guess we don’t have to worry about the giving the whole abortion talk.” You lamely say before letting out a strained laugh. Namjoon eyebrows furrow at that.

“You wanted to have an abortion?” He sounds disappointed. He would never stop you from having an abortion— it’s not his place. But the thought of you not wanting to have a child with him did kind of hurt.

You shake your head at Namjoon’s question. “No it’s not that. I just assumed… you know.” You awkwardly fidget with your hands as you try to find your words. “I didn’t think you’d want to have a child so soon.” Shrugging your shoulders, you let out another strained laugh, much to Namjoon’s dismay.

“That’s not funny, _______” His expression is serious. “This is why we need to communicate. I’ve always wanted children— I’d want nothing more than to have a child with you _______” He speaks sincerely and you swear you could burst into tears right now.

You place your hands on his cheeks to pull him down for a kiss. It’s not rough, titillating, or sloppy. It’s a kiss filled with passion and for once there’s a speckle of joy in there. You felt safe and secure in Namjoon’s arms. Your husband. A man you don’t quite love yet but you definitely like him. And you’re willing to love him— to fall in love with him.

Namjoon pulls away to catch his breath. You couldn’t help but smile up at your gorgeous husband. “Thank you… for saying that Namjoon. For everything, honestly.” The blonde haired man is smiling from ear to ear. He couldn’t control the wholehearted happiness he felt— it’s floating along with his aura.

“Mmm, thank you for saying you’ll have my kids.” He says, his smile widens as you let out a little laugh. The dimples in his cheeks so prominent you wanna bite them. “The test is negative, Joon.” You remind him. Just in case he forgot from all of the cheesing and giggling he’s doing.

As if he couldn’t express his euphoric excitement any more than he already has, he picks your body up into his strong arms. His hands resting underneath your thighs as he walks you to the bedroom, his lips on yours.

You pull away, not without letting a goofy little giggle leave your mouth. “What are you doing?” You ask, in complete oblivion. Namjoon smiles at you before quickly pecking your lips.

“We’re gonna TRY AGAIN.”

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redvexillum · 15 days ago

Text

@whatswrongwithblue Thank you for the request! I tried my best to showcase really long "fuckening" LOL. I would like to dedicate this story to @safination for writing two Adam x Reader stories for me - I'm just super touched, oh my god, thank you!

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, p in v, tentacle s♡x, double penetrati♡n, marathon s♡x, oral s♡x, finger♡ng, an♡l, suspension, squirt♡ng, cunniling♡s, established relationship, soft alastor, alastor being a lil shit, rough s♡x, b♡ndage, ♡verstimulation

An invisible weight tugged down your eyelids, and your shoulders drooped as if bound by chains trying to drag you down. Your eyes burned, your lips felt dry, and your head began to spin. Even in Hell, exhaustion was inescapable. You glanced over at Alastor, who hummed softly as he cleared away the cup of Zestea with a snap of his fingers.

You adjusted the soft, fuzzy towel wrapped around you, sitting on the bed with damp hair draped over your shoulders. Fresh from a warm bath Alastor had prepared, you’d hoped it would relax your body, but all you felt was the maddening sensation of a mind wide awake while your body remained fatigued.

“Ugh, I can’t do it,” you whined, pressing your forehead against your knee and tapping it in frustration. “I’ve been trying to sleep for days, Alastor.” As you lifted your head, you caught his eyebrow arching at your childish display.

The longer you went without sleep, the whinier you became, feeling reduced to a petulant child. You knew it wasn’t fair, but the frustration of your body resisting your mind’s wishes was beyond torment.

“Darling,” Alastor began, his voice velvety smooth.

“Ugh!” You cut him off by flopping back onto the bed, starfishing as the towel wrapped around you started to loosen. “This suuuucks!” you groaned, lightly kicking your heels against the bed in an attempt to release your growing frustration.

“Darl-”

“I don’t understand! I tried everything.” You rolled onto your stomach and shut your eyes tightly. “I was such a terrible insomniac back when I was alive, and now I have to deal with this for the rest of eternity?”

“Dar-”

“What kind of crappy hellhole is this? This seems petty, even for the big guy upstairs, don’t you think?” you continued, oblivious to your surroundings.

“Darling!” Alastor finally raised his voice, and at that moment, tentacles erupted from the bed, grasping your limbs.

Your arms and legs twisted at awkward angles as your body hovered over the bed. The towel slipped free, landing quietly on the bed and baring your form before Alastor.

"Thirteen times," Alastor murmured, his voice dripping with unrestrained amusement, his crimson eyes glinting as they pinned you in place. His hands tucked neatly behind his back, he seemed perfectly composed, though the smirk curling at the edges of his mouth betrayed a darker intent.

Confused, you blinked up at him—only to yelp as the cool, silken press of his shadow tendrils began to glide over your bare skin, teasingly slow. One snaked its way between the cleft of your ass, trailing with lazy patience, the tip wriggling just at your entrance, coaxing a sharp intake of breath from you as pleasure rippled up your spine. Every nerve felt alive, electric, your skin flushing under his unwavering gaze.

"Thirteen times you’ve been acting like a spoiled child today, darling," Alastor’s voice was smooth, chiding, though his eyes were lit with something wicked, ravenous.

Another shadowy tendril traced up your neck, its soft, almost squishy texture making your skin prickle. Then, with one swift movement, it pressed into your mouth, muffling any protest you might’ve made as it filled you. Another tendril wrapped its gentle, pulsing form around your heated skin as it circled down around your breasts, caressing and teasing.

“Mhm…” You tried to respond, your voice muffled, a low hum of pleasure vibrating through you as the tendrils toyed with you. When the tendril in your mouth finally pulled back to let you gasp for air, another tendril plunged deep into your slick core, sliding in with one smooth, tantalizing stroke, filling you completely. A gasp escaped your lips, mingling with a moan as the feeling of fullness set every inch of you aflame, your body helplessly arching into his touch.

“Thirteen times, I’ll help you,” Alastor drawled, his voice low and edged with dark delight. His eyes narrowed to glittering crescents as his grin grew, sharp and almost feral. "Relax," he whispered, his tone smooth as honey as the tendrils inside you began to move, slow and steady, drawing out every inch of pleasure. Each movement left you wanting, needing, as he drew out every moment, teasing you with that maddening slowness.

Your body began to melt under his control, a soft moan spilling from you as your muscles, once taut with frustration, relaxed into his grip. “Does it feel good, darling?” Alastor’s voice dropped to a husky murmur, another shadow tendril swirling around one of your nipples, tightening into a small, deliciously snug loop that squeezed and teased.

“Ah!” Your eyes fell shut, hips rocking as your chest arched forward, giving him everything to see, to touch. “Y-yes,” you gasped, your words coming out in soft, breathless sounds, the tendril inside you quickening, its movements slick, rhythmic, filling the air with soft, lewd sounds as it thrust deeper, harder. "Oh, Alastor, it’s… hah… oh," you panted, your voice breaking into needy little cries as he guided you to the edge, the tendrils driving you further and further until pleasure crashed over you in waves.

Your stomach muscles quivered as your whole body tightened, a cry escaping as your walls clenched around the tendril inside, shuddering through every inch of you.

"One," Alastor murmured, his grin never wavering, his gaze searing into you with that dark promise.

In the hazy bliss of release, realization dawned, sending another thrill of anticipation through you—he intended to count each of your climaxes, to draw out every peak, never stopping until he reached thirteen.

As you struggled to catch your breath, the tendrils began their slow, relentless dance once again. They curled against your still-sensitive walls, pressing and stretching you as warmth and pleasure bloomed anew.

"F-fuck," you exhaled, as the shadow tendril that once entered your mouth slipped between your parted lips once more, moving slowly in and out, coaxing yet another trembling moan from deep within.

Once more, that searing pleasure began to build, crashing into the remnants of your last release. It was a mere matter of minutes before another wave surged through you, and this time, the heat seemed endless, a delicious agony of pleasure that took over completely.

With each wave, your mind grew hazier, lost in the raw, pulsing need that Alastor seemed to stoke with every touch. The world became a blur of pleasure, each second stretching, lingering. At one point, you found your head thrown back, legs stretched out and quivering, your body suspended just above the floor. Alastor’s mouth was buried between your thighs, his deep hums reverberating through you as his tongue explored every sensitive inch of your core, slow and pleasing, dragging out every moment.

Drool escaped from the corner of your parted lips, trailing down your cheek as shadowy tendrils wrapped around you, coaxing your mouth open wider, sliding between your lips and wiggling against your tongue. Every inch of your body burned under his gaze, his presence radiating a heady power that made your pulse quicken.

“Mhm,” Alastor hummed in satisfaction, the dark glint in his eyes making your heart race. In the haze, you heard the metallic clink of his belt buckle loosening, followed by the sharp whisper of his zipper. His hot tongue continued to lap at you, his lips wrapping around your folds as he sucked your clit, firm and lingering, the touch like fire against your swollen, oversensitive skin.

“MMPH,” you gasped, the sound muffled by the tendril holding your mouth open, but the helpless, desperate sound escaped all the same. Your eyes widened as his fingers began circling your tight entrance of your ass, the slick warmth of his touch teasing, coaxing as he eased one finger inside, withdrawing, then pressing deeper with each slow stroke.

His tongue thrust deeper, finding every hidden spot, his finger pressing against that thin sensitive wall between your two entrances. The dual sensation was too much, the pressure building and consuming you, your walls clenching helplessly around his tongue as another wave crashed through you, leaving you breathless, your abdomen tightening with the force of release.

Every lick, every draw of his lips against your clit left you trembling, lost in the sweet torture he inflicted with such calm, focused precision. Each stroke was perfectly timed, drawing out each moment, extending your pleasure as though he revelled in the sounds you made, the way your body arched and jolted beneath him.

In the fog of pleasure, you heard him murmur, “Seven.”

When you came to your senses again, you found yourself bent over, your body limp and pliant, the tendrils holding you aloft in midair as though you were a doll, utterly at his mercy. A bead of drool stretched from your parted lips, joined by tears of pleasure as your mouth let out soft, pleading moans. The two tendrils were thrusting into you now, each movement synchronized, the slick, wet sounds filling the air as they moved with a steady, unrelenting rhythm.

Your gaze drifted up, finding Alastor seated at the edge of the bed, his hand wrapped around his own hardened length. He stroked himself as he watched you, a look of dark satisfaction glinting in his crimson eyes.

It was only when one tendril hit that perfect spot within you, pressing firmly against your G-spot while the other filled your other tight entrance completely, that you finally broke, a scream tearing from you as the overstimulation shattered something deep within. The tendril at your lips pulled away, only to be replaced by something hotter, thicker, its weight heavy on your tongue, the taste of salt and musk filling your senses as Alastor’s cock pressed between your lips, sliding deep.

A warm rush of arousal trickled down your thighs as your voice was muffled by his length, the taste and heft of him only heightening the fiery pleasure rippling through your body. Endless waves crashed over you, each movement of the tendril against your G-spot triggering new jolts of ecstasy that seemed boundless, unending, leaving you helpless to the pleasure he so expertly, mercilessly gave.

Alastor groaned above you, his breath warm and rough as he slowly pushed his thick, heated cock in and out of your mouth, holding you steady, savouring every inch of movement. His pace was unhurried, each slow thrust teasing, almost torturous, as his gaze locked onto yours, intense and devouring. Your arousal dripped down your thighs, tracing warm, wet trails along your skin, each drop pooling and slipping from the tips of your toes.

“Twelve, darling,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, edged with delight. “Let’s make the last one count.”

The world around you swirled as he lowered you back onto the bed, your body sinking into its soft warmth. Breath ragged, eyes misted, you lay sprawled out, hips trembling from the relentless pleasure that still pulsed through you. Your skin felt hot, nerves buzzing, and each lingering touch of his fingers traced over your sensitized flesh like fire.

Your eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion, every inch of your body both sated and aching. Alastor moved above you, the rough fabric of his suit brushing against your sensitive skin, heightening every touch. His face hovered just inches from yours, close enough that his breath ghosted over your lips as he let the length of his cock trail along your soaked folds, the friction sending sparks of pleasure that left you breathless.

“This one’s mostly for me,” he murmured, a wicked grin spreading as he gently brushed damp strands of hair from your forehead, his fingers warm against your skin.

Your body arched in response, anticipation building as his thick cock finally pressed against you, the heat of him molten as he slowly entered, stretching you inch by inch. Your breath hitched, a hoarse, needy sound escaping as he filled you, the sensation overwhelming. He didn’t stop until he was buried to the hilt, his belt buckle pressing sharply against your heated skin, a rough contrast that only heightened the feeling of fullness.

Every muscle in your body clenched as waves of pleasure rippled outward, your nerves raw and hypersensitive, ready for another release that you could feel building within. Your lips parted, words caught in your throat as a helpless whimper slipped out, each slight twitch in response to his touch making you tremble.

With one hand, he held the top of your head, his fingers threading into your hair as he grinned, dark eyes gleaming. Alastor drew back slowly, then snapped his hips forward, and your back arched as your breasts bounced, his rough pace jolting your body with each thrust, his grip on your head keeping you steady as his cock found every sensitive spot within.

“Al—” you gasped, voice breaking, your eyes rolling back, lids heavy with exhaustion and pleasure, each blink longer as your mind swam in the intensity.

He drew back and drove forward again, hips pressing hard against you, each impact a sinful contrast against the throbbing heat of your body. The sensation was overwhelming, each strike pressing into your sensitive clit, bringing you higher. His grunts mingled with your soft moans, and the rhythmic creaking of the bed was all you could hear, each movement pushing you to the edge, again and again.

The relentless rhythm sent you deeper into bliss, every thrust pressing you into the mattress, each slick sound growing louder as he moved faster, harder. His cock rubbed against your inner walls, hitting all your sensitive spots, while the front of his pelvis struck your swollen clit with every thrust, sending a sharp, electrifying pleasure through you.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, pleasure breaking over you in a blinding rush, your body writhing as the release washed through you. Darkness tinged the edges of your vision, and you cried out, guttural and raw, as another flood of arousal spilled from you, leaving you trembling, body spent in the aftermath of pure ecstasy.

You couldn’t open your eyes, let alone move your body. A dull heaviness clung to you, making every part of you feel like lead. Vaguely, you felt a twitch in your leg, a reminder of the overwhelming sensation that had consumed you earlier, leaving you utterly exposed. Your body lay wide open, but at that moment, you felt a delicious thrill rather than shame, too intoxicated by the aftershocks of pleasure to care. Gradually, the world around you faded into a blissful oblivion, and you drifted into unconsciousness.

When you finally woke up, the first sensation was the softness of the sheets against your skin. You blinked blearily, realizing you were curled up in your pyjamas, holding on to your pillow. Every muscle ached, a pleasant reminder of the night’s indulgence, but your mind felt clearer now. As you looked around, confusion settled in; you were alone in the vast expanse of Alastor’s bed, surrounded by the lingering scent of him.

Holding the pillow tightly to your chest, a cold wash of loneliness hit you, heavy and suffocating. How could he have fucked you into unconsciousness and just left? The least he could do was stay, to wrap his arms around you and share the warmth after such an intense experience. A sigh escaped your lips, a mix of frustration and yearning. Perhaps he had cuddled you while you were lost in sleep, but the emptiness in the bed felt cold, and you craved his presence.

Contemplating, you tried to settle back down, hoping to find solace in sleep again, but the silence of the room felt stifling. With a huff of irritation, you realized you were back at square one—restless and alone. Sitting up, you pulled the pillow against your chest, desperate for a sense of comfort.

A sudden spark of determination flickered within you, and you decided to check the Radio Tower. It was his usual point of interest, and you hoped he might still be there. Climbing the stairs, excitement bubbled in your chest. Peering through the door window, you caught sight of Alastor’s back, his smooth voice floating through the air like music, wrapping around you and bringing an involuntary smile to your lips.

Perhaps you could wait for him to finish his business, and then the two of you could go for a stroll. Settling onto the weathered couch, you tucked your knees in and hugged the pillow tighter. Resting your head back, you closed your eyes, focusing on the sound of his voice.

“One might say they were quite bone dry by the time they left Cannibal Town, hahaha,” Alastor laughed, his transatlantic accent rolling over you like a warm caress.

You couldn’t help but snort at his silly word play, the sound bubbling up despite the heaviness in your heart. You leaned into his words, letting them wash over you, wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth and familiarity. As he continued to speak, you felt yourself begin to relax, the tension in your body melting away.

But before you knew it, his voice began to fade, the room darkening around you, pulling you into its depths. The warmth of the couch enveloped you, and soon, your consciousness slowly slipped away once more, leaving behind a lingering ache for his presence.

Alastor let out a soft sigh, brushing off invisible dust from his arm as he stepped outside, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He felt a swell of happiness, not only because he had pleased his darling, but also because he had managed to broadcast his show right on time. Yet, as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, they caught sight of you curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

A flicker of concern crossed his face, his brows knitting together as he wondered why you were sleeping in such an uncomfortable spot instead of the cozy bed he had prepared for you. He opened his mouth, ready to chastise you for choosing the couch over the warmth of your own bedding, but as he got closer, his breath hitched. The soft, gentle expression on your face silenced him.

Alastor paused, his hand hovering just above your shoulder, a mix of irritation and affection coursing through him. Should he really wake you? But before he could make up his mind, a smirk tugged at his lips, and with a snap of his fingers, a plush blanket materialized, draping softly over your body. He couldn’t help but soften the jagged edge of his smile when he heard the lovely sigh that escaped your lips as you instinctively snuggled deeper into the pillow, blissfully unaware of his presence.

He stood there, captivated, his eyes locked onto your serene face. A warmth spread through his chest as he observed you, unblinking and utterly entranced. The urge to simply leave and let you rest was his first thought, but instead, his fingers betrayed him. They reached out, tracing the strands of your hair, lifting a lock gently before placing a tender kiss upon it. His heart swelled as he watched you, his typically sharp demeanour softening in the glow of your innocence.

But then, as if splashed with icy water, reality struck. He quickly dropped your hair as if it had burned him, a flicker of panic dancing in his eyes. He darted a furtive glance around, ensuring no one had witnessed this moment of vulnerability. Alastor, the ever-composed radio demon, was suddenly aware of how uncharacteristic his actions had been.

The sensible thing would be to let you sleep, especially after the struggles you had faced throughout the week. Yet, against his better judgment, he summoned a chair next to you, settling down with a resigned huff.

As he waited, a swirl of emotions churned inside him—anticipation, affection, and a strange sense of longing. He found himself drawn to the idea of spending the rest of eternity by your side, watching you awaken to a world painted in shades of endless amusement, delight, and his presence.

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