#out-classed out-paced replaced

[secretly-a-catamount]

Eldrich Mutants isn’t an Ao3 tag, my disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined.

[skruffie]

man, I think I might end up being a for real optician

[radlegowaffle]

i think a lot about when someone told me the kanji for rain looks like youre looking out a window at rain (雨）

[dostoyevsky-official]

The Elite College Students Who Can’t Read Books

Nicholas Dames has taught Literature Humanities, Columbia University’s required great-books course, since 1998. He loves the job, but it has changed. Over the past decade, students have become overwhelmed by the reading. College kids have never read everything they’re assigned, of course, but this feels different. Dames’s students now seem bewildered by the thought of finishing multiple books a semester. His colleagues have noticed the same problem. Many students no longer arrive at college—even at highly selective, elite colleges—prepared to read books.

This development puzzled Dames until one day during the fall 2022 semester, when a first-year student came to his office hours to share how challenging she had found the early assignments. Lit Hum often requires students to read a book, sometimes a very long and dense one, in just a week or two. But the student told Dames that, at her public high school, she had never been required to read an entire book. She had been assigned excerpts, poetry, and news articles, but not a single book cover to cover.

[...] Twenty years ago, Dames’s classes had no problem engaging in sophisticated discussions of Pride and Prejudice one week and Crime and Punishment the next. Now his students tell him up front that the reading load feels impossible. It’s not just the frenetic pace; they struggle to attend to small details while keeping track of the overall plot.

No comprehensive data exist on this trend, but the majority of the 33 professors I spoke with relayed similar experiences. Many had discussed the change at faculty meetings and in conversations with fellow instructors. [...] Daniel Shore, the chair of Georgetown’s English department, told me that his students have trouble staying focused on even a sonnet.

Failing to complete a 14-line poem without succumbing to distraction suggests one familiar explanation for the decline in reading aptitude: smartphones. Teenagers are constantly tempted by their devices, which inhibits their preparation for the rigors of college coursework—then they get to college, and the distractions keep flowing. “It’s changed expectations about what’s worthy of attention,” Daniel Willingham, a psychologist at UVA, told me. “Being bored has become unnatural.” Reading books, even for pleasure, can’t compete with TikTok, Instagram, YouTube. In 1976, about 40 percent of high-school seniors said they had read at least six books for fun in the previous year, compared with 11.5 percent who hadn’t read any. By 2022, those percentages had flipped.

[...] Mike Szkolka, a teacher and an administrator who has spent almost two decades in Boston and New York schools, told me that excerpts have replaced books across grade levels. “There’s no testing skill that can be related to … Can you sit down and read Tolstoy? ” he said. And if a skill is not easily measured, instructors and district leaders have little incentive to teach it. [...] The pandemic, which scrambled syllabi and moved coursework online, accelerated the shift away from teaching complete works.

[...] But it’s not clear that instructors can foster a love of reading by thinning out the syllabus. Some experts I spoke with attributed the decline of book reading to a shift in values rather than in skill sets. Students can still read books, they argue—they’re just choosing not to. Students today are far more concerned about their job prospects than they were in the past. Every year, they tell Howley that, despite enjoying what they learned in Lit Hum, they plan to instead get a degree in something more useful for their career.

[...] For years, Dames has asked his first-years about their favorite book. In the past, they cited books such as Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre. Now, he says, almost half of them cite young-adult books. Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson series seems to be a particular favorite.

[kurooh]

WORLD CLASS SINNER ★ JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. featuring gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, & kamo choso fucking you nasty.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, car sex, creampies, overstimulation, crying, spanking, slight public sex, mirror sex, spit, hair pulling, freaky shit, motorcycle sex, riding (multiple things), filming, squirting, cunnilingus. | 4.7K words

xoxo, juno. happy belated birthday to satoru <3

GOJO SATORU.

“for the record, i love you,” satoru pecks a kiss to your cheek and his lips smack, “it is december 7th and ‘m getting my gift early.”

“it is not early!” you protest, snatching the phone from him and wiggling over to the side so you can mount it on the tall dresser. the camera app is open, overlooking the bed and ready to record satoru’s birthday celebration this year. bits of dry frosting color the corners of his lips, serving as the evidence of the cake you made him yourself.

“uh, no need to move so much,” satoru exhales coolly, hands finding purchase on your hips, “you said we’d take it slow, didn’t ya?”

“that was then,” you purr, voice low and sultry, “and this is now. unless . . you actually want me to?”

he shakes his head immediately, cheeks flushing a rosy pink while he pouts his lips. satoru sneaks a glance downwards, diamond eyes feeling a little wet at the sight — you’re sitting on his cock, with your cunt squeezing just above the creamy ring at his base.

“i thought so, ‘toru,” you giggle, blowing a kiss in the direction of the camera. it’ll surely add to the excitement when he’s watching this by himself some time along — after all, nothing else can get him off. your hands splay out on his chest, nails grazing his skin lightly.

“anyway, i’ve just been thinking . . and you’ve been such a good boy this year. i ought to spoil you for your birthday, hm?”

“what did you just call me?” satoru sputters, biting back a laugh although his voice trembles. “did you just say—”

the words die on his tongue immediately. your expression twists into one of pure bliss as you start to rock your hips into him, setting up a decent pace that has you crying out in delight. of course, he has no choice but to join you, his head tipping back while his eyes trace your features. god, you feel good — so tight, so hot, and oh so perfect. but sex feels even better because he’s pleasing you; seeing you falling apart on his cock all because of him will always get him going.

“shit, baby,” satoru gasps, groaning loudly when your fingers tangle in his snowy hair, “faster, please.”

you nod frantically, lifting yourself up and slamming back down on his cock so hard it’s like you’re being split open in the best way possible. out of habit, your fingers wander to your clit, and he pushes them away the moment he sees.

“no, don’t,” he replaces your fingers with his own and lets his free hand settle at the small of your back for support, “let me do it, babe.”

“toru,” you whimper as he flicks the sensitive bud around, “y-you always make me feel so good.”

“‘course i do, sweetheart,” he grunts, starting to jerk his hips upward. each deep thrust pushes his cock into places only he can touch, and your mouth falls open, face crumbling. “here, jus’ arch your back a little—yeah, you got it.”

satoru’s voice wavers as he tells you what to do, setting up a new position and angle for him to fuck into you at. beads of sweat roll down his temples while his chest heaves in exertion, the best kind — he’s never truly gotten tired when he’s fucking you. not only does he have the stamina of a wild stallion, but really, how could he get tired when you’re looking like an angel above him, crying out his name in a voice that’s a harmony if he’s ever heard one.

“so fuckin’ beautiful,” satoru grits out, eyes regretfully squeezing shut for a moment, “god, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep squeezin’ like that.”

curses and sobs of euphoria fall from your lips. as the seconds pass, you’re only getting more intoxicated by the heat between you. misty tears make your eyes shine, and arousal pools deep in your stomach, growing more pronounced with each shove of his cock into your sweet spot. your legs are trembling on either side of him, and your tummy’s slightly more rounded than usual—satoru’s cock is in your guts.

he feels you start to tense up, notices a few stray tears falling down your cheeks. this is it. “l-look at me, baby,” satoru pleads, as if he’ll die without it, “look at me when you cum.”

it’s perfect — you look directly into his eyes, and the camera captures your orgasm perfectly. your cunt flutters and spasms around his cock, and you’re shaking so hard you fall on top of him, flinching away from his insistent fingers. it takes everything he has to hold the urge to cum back, but he manages to pull it off, not even spilling a drop.

“toru,” you mumble into his chest, shivering as he strokes away the sweat on your back, “why didnt you—?”

“savin’ it,” he breathes, teeth sinking into his lower lip in an attempt to try and ignore the way your walls are flexing around him. “hmph. as the birthday boy, i expect you to blow another candle for me.”

your head lifts immediately and you shoot him a glare, eyes narrowed in faux annoyance. “you did not just say that.”

“careful, careful,” he hisses, hands flying to your hips, “don’t wanna accidentally cum right now.”

“right, but you’ll never push me off,” you challenge him, playfully wiggling against his pelvis.

“that is not fair!” satoru whines, looking ridiculous with the dried blue frosting at the corners of his lips. “don’t torture me, pleaseee.”

GETO SUGURU.

“keep your eyes open, sweetheart.”

“‘m sorry, sugu, i just—”

his hand comes down hard against your ass, and the crack of the slap reverberates through the room. you shudder, blearily opening your eyes and looking into the mirror.

behind you, suguru’s flipping a bit of his dark hair over his shoulder and out of the way while holding onto your waist to keep you steady. you can see how pathetic you look in your reflection — drool freely slips from your mouth and you look completely dazed, all sweaty and tired while hearts spin in your eyes.

“hm, that’s more like it. want you to watch yourself, honey.”

you nod, eyes tracing the edges of your thighs and ridges of his abs in the reflection. suguru’s got you on your hands and knees, making you look fucked out and fucked up.

“s-sugu, i wanna touch my clit—it’s not enough.”

he raises a dark brow, eyes narrowing as you slip a hand between your thighs and find your clit with your fingers. now, he settles his hands at your hips, lifting you up slightly to pound into you at a new angle.

“alright. only if you don’t fall over, sweetheart.”

what a bastard. of course he has to set you up with an impossible condition like that — the new placement of his hands is the first sign of your literal downfall. suguru closely observes your reflection in the mirror before his own: you’re covered in bite marks and hickeys, with a sheen of sweat all over your body, which makes your skin look sticky. your tits swing, building momentum each time he slams into you.

beneath the sound of ass clapping, suguru can hear your pathetic, fucked out cries—this is the result of too many orgasms and being an annoying brat to him all day. his blood boils with both frustration and arousal when he recalls a particular memory, so he reaches forward, gathering your hair into one hand before pulling you backwards. messing around with your hair is something that holds a special place in his heart; he loves it whenever you touch his hair in any way, and the same goes for yours.

“takin’ it like such a slut,” suguru croons, his dark tresses falling into his face, “but i really can’t hear you that well. thought i made myself clear when i said i want the whole apartment building to hear how well i fuck you.”

“y-yeah, you did,” you gasp, back arching beautifully, “sugu, need you to touch my clit.”

he smiles wickedly. instead of allowing yourself to fall forward, you’ve decided to give up and steady yourself at the expense of rubbing your clit. suguru almost wants to give you a reward for that.

“not right now, honey,” he revels in the frustrated sob you let out, watching in the mirror as your face crumbles in some kind of distress. so dramatic, he thinks after mentally laughing. as if he’d leave you unsatisfied — how many times have you cum so far? “someone’s fucking greedy, hm? tell you what, sweetheart. cum without your clit ‘n i’ll eat your pussy up right after.”

it’s a good enough deal, and it only seems more enticing when he sticks his tongue out in the mirror, showing off the silver ball in the middle of it. his tongue piercing, and your favorite part of him eating you out.

“o-okay,” you agree tearfully, and he tugs you back by the hair so you’re facing him.

“tell me, tell the neighbors, who’s fucking you this good? answer me, honey.”

“you, suguru!” you moan loudly, feeling a surprising pressure building in your lower stomach, “i-it’s you, ‘s always you!”

suguru nods, letting go of your hair and slipping his hand beneath your chin rather gently. then he lifts your head and tips it back. “open that pretty mouth for me.”

you oblige immediately, going so far as to stick your tongue out for him. he spits right onto your tongue, and it tastes a little minty because of his chapstick and tea when you swallow. the gesture is an erotic expression of dominance and possession, and it’s one that has your cunt quivering around his cock. he lets you go, making eye contact with you through the mirror.

“oh, i feel you squeezing me,” he grunts, smacking your ass and groaning when your cunt automatically bears down harder. “looks like i’ll be devouring that sweet pussy of yours, honey.”

“hah, i need it,” mascara tracks darken your cheeks as fresh tears roll down, “t-think ‘m gonna cum, jus’ like you asked.”

“such a good girl for me,” he praises, egging you on by pressing his palm into your lower stomach, “my girl listens so well, doesn’t she? cum for me.”

the creaking of the bed grows louder as he pounds his cock into you harder, forcing a mixture of slick and cum to pour out from your used hole in glossy strings that stick to your thighs. he’s breathing heavily behind you, pressing into your tummy just right, and oh.

oh, you’re about to make a fucking mess.

a pitched sob tears from your throat when you cum on his cock, pussy gushing all over him and onto the bedsheets. sparkling droplets of cum race down your thighs and your entire body shakes on his cock, gripping him so tightly that neither of you can move.

“s-sugu, ‘m tired,” you gasp, stars flashing across your vision. “feeling kinda . . lightheaded.”

“you’ve gotta rest, sweetheart,” suguru laughs, and it rumbles out from the depths of his chest. he leans so far backwards his back cracks, and then he hands you an open bottle of water.

“what—what’s the record now?”

“ten in an hour,” he strokes your back with loving fingers, curling up beside you even though you’re upside down on the bed together. “let’s try to break it again in a couple hours.”

“how about tomorrow?” you suggest with a yawn.

“okay, okay. tomorrow night, my balls are shriveling up right now.”

“ew, sugu.” your nose crinkles and you scoot an inch away, too exhausted to move further.

“oh, stop it. it’s your fault anyways.”

NANAMI KENTO.

“kento—kennn,” you whine breathlessly, glossy lips parting to release a useless warning. “y-you’re gonna make me cum again, shit!”

“let me feel it, sweetheart,” kento croons, pressing his thumb particularly hard into your clit. the additional pressure has your head spinning too fast for you to even come up with a coherent thought as you orgasm with a drawn out whine on his cock for the nth time tonight. “that—that’s my good girl.”

beneath your bodies, the polished oak desk creaks dangerously, sounding far too tired for something that’s worth thousands. but kento doesn’t give one damn — he’d been stuck working overtime because of his shitty boss, who’d left him cooped up in his office, expecting his orders to be followed. the ultimatum was simple: do a ton of work or get fired.

kento had been so caught up he didn’t get the chance to call you, and the stress he’d been feeling began to ebb away once you stepped through his door with a bag of food from his favorite restaurant. one thing led to another, and soon enough the food had been abandoned somewhere and you ended up on the desk.

papers lazily drift off the desk’s surface while others are inevitably dampened by a mixture of wetness and spit, which leaks from your puffy cunt in thick trails down your skin. again and again, kento’s cock pushes even deeper, the blunt tip of it kissing your cervix rather roughly. meanwhile, his fingers toy with your swollen clit, drawing unrestrained cries from your lips while tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“ken, ‘s too much, i don’t think i can—”

“of course you can take more, angel,” kento huffs, firmly planting his hand beside your head for extra stability. the platinum of his watch glints in the light and his heavy breaths grow more ragged by the second, his chest heaving. sweaty strands of blond hair escape the gel’s hold, sticking to his slick forehead and making him look all the more ethereal above you. “i-i’m nowhere near finished with you.”

“oh god,” you whimper in realization, feeling that hot wave cresting in your tummy; it’s amplified by the rough rhythm of his cock and the attention he’s so generously lavishing your clit with. “g-god, ‘s coming . . ken, i think i’m gonna—”

a deep groan rushes out from him, all the way from the pits of his chest. hazel eyes squint as he watches your pussy push his cock out; it quivers momentarily before spraying cum all over his pelvis, and the sparkling droplets drip through his pubes, toward the shaft of his cock.

“did you just squirt, sweetheart?” kento asks curiously, heat rising to his cheeks and elsewhere.

“i think so,” you swallow nervously, too weak to sit up and look at the mess you’ve made all over him. “ken, i want you to cum inside me. stop holding it back.”

to be fair, this is probably the last time he’ll get the pleasure of fucking you on such an expensive desk. this despicable office he’s spent countless hours in is finally growing on him now that he’s got you in here like this — stripped naked and begging for his cum while making a mess of the shit all over his desk. and oh, he wishes he could see his boss’ face when he comes in demanding all of the finished work, only to be met with a sticky desk. the vision ignites an inferno in him and he guides his cock inside you, biting down on his lower lip when your greedy cunt swallows him.

“beg a little more for it, angel,” he chokes out, spreading your legs impossibly wider while drawing his hips back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you. “need to know just how you want it.”

you gasp sharply, back arching off the desk and causing your tits to press into his clothed, sweaty chest. “i want you to fuck me like you mean it. t-then, fill me up. please.”

you can’t even say another word before kento’s holding your hips down and plowing into you with a sudden ferocity. if he’s lucky, he can get you to squirt again and maybe this time he can get a taste—yes, this is the thought he wants to cum to.

he shudders, “i love it—ugh, fuck—when you tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“give it to me,” you cry out, eyes fluttering shut while your legs wrap tightly around his waist, drawing him closer. “h-haven’t i earned it, ken?”

kento comes undone at your words, teeth clenching with a loud grunt as he finally spills inside you. your squeezing walls milk him for everything he has, absorbing each throb of his cock into their sticky softness. his mouth hangs open breathlessly, and he weakly pushes his hips forward before carefully landing on top of you.

wood splinters and snaps beneath you, and you both tumble to the floor atop a heap of the desk’s remains. “kento, what just happened—”

“it’s fine, honey. let’s rest for a moment before we leave.”

“you aren’t gonna clean it up? what about when you have to come in tomorrow?”

kento nuzzles his nose into your cheek with a blissful sigh. “thank you for making my last day at this job special. i’ll be quitting and moving to the other firm closer to the house.”

FUSHIGURO TOJI.

“this is what ya wanted?” with a coy chuckle, toji flattens his tongue against your slit and licks a long, languid stripe upwards. he easily finds your clit, and swirls the sensitive bud around with the tip of his tongue.

“yeah, but not the teasing—” a breathy gasp pushes past your lips when he pushes two slick fingers inside you.

“heh heh. you’ll survive a little teasin’, dollface.”

he’s so flippant with his words, so nonchalant. but his fingers are anything but lazy or uncaring as he bullies them deeper into your cunt, curling them right against that sweet spongy spot inside you. with one leg over his shoulder and the other hanging off the edge of the backseat, you’re fully spread and at his mercy.

“come onnn, toji,” he rolls his eyes when he hears you whine, tonguing at the glossy slick that covers his fingers and the skin around your hole.

“you come on, princess. just wait a second, ‘kay?”

“but i’ve been waiting,” you huff, lower lip trembling in frustration as your fingers push through the dark tufts of his hair. you can’t help but breathe a little heavier, the building anticipation becoming suffocating in the small space of the car. “all night. since we left to go hang out with shiu.”

“don’t tell me that’s why you’ve been so handsy, doll. hmph, i had to pull over so ya wouldn’t make me crash the car.”

“i wasn’t even doing—”

“that much?” toji finishes your sentence for you, the corners of his lips quirking upwards when you look at him desperately. “weren’t ya trying to get in my pants while i was going sixty?”

before you can respond, toji interrupts your train of thought by spitting right onto your clit. the glossy glob trails down his fingers and becomes extra lube for him — he wraps his lips around your clit and starts to sporadically curl his fingers. heat sears its way across your face and your back arches off the backseat, eyes briefly scanning around to make sure the road’s still empty.

it’s dark out and difficult to tell, but what does it matter? there’s no need to focus on spotting other cars, you reason.

“ah, fuck!” the expletive leaves your lips in the form of a startled mewl, a delicious reaction to toji lightly nibbling at your clit with his teeth. the gesture is playful but it drives you wild and makes your head spin, thoughts turning into mush. “toji, that—that feels really good . . ”

impatient as ever, you push his head down, forcing his face into your pussy in a greedy attempt to get more.

“ah ah,” he snaps upwards, pulling free from your grip and moving on top of you easily. you’re nose to nose and he’s speaking directly over your lips, sharing your breath. “i get to eat this pussy my way. she’s all mine, don’t forget that.”

“f-fine,” you cede with a pout, which he kisses away, feeling proud of himself.

“be a good girl ‘n maybe you can ride my face. how’s that sound, doll?”

“it sounds good,” you squeeze your eyes shut when he finally returns to his old position between your thighs, two fingers stuffing your cunt while his tongue laps at your clit as though it’s the best ice cream ever. the temperature in the car seems to spike; your body’s growing hotter and hotter with each lick or curl of his fingers.

“greedy pussy wants some more, hm?”

“h-huh?” you ask dumbly, a little zoned out.

but toji doesn’t repeat himself. instead he shows you what he said by pushing a third finger into your already crowded hole, smirking in satisfaction when you suck him in despite your verbal protests of it being ‘too much’. toji’s big, every part of him, and you always take him even though you complain — what can he say?

“a-ah, so fuckin’ full,” you slur your words, rocking your hips into his fingers to make the stretch burn a little less. “tojiii, go slow.”

“again, girl,” he huffs, rolling his eyes dramatically, “don’t tell me what to do. ‘n you’ll be just fine, this pussy was made for me.”

there’s no point in arguing, so you just let your head lazily lean back against the door. you were supposed to look around for cars, especially police cars, and you’ve given up entirely, deciding to blame your inability to search on the foggy windows.

toji scissors his fingers in and out of you mercilessly, sucking your clit roughly and groaning to express his enjoyment. the wet squelches of your cunt make your cheeks burn hot; it’s just so filthy that you don’t even know how to react. on either side of his head, your thighs tremble, squeezing around him every now and then.

“mmm, you’re so fuckin’ sweet,” he smacks his lips loudly and devours your pussy in between each word, “shouldn’t have made you wait so goddamn long, dollface.”

“i told you,” is all you can utter, hips twisting wildly into his face, “jus’ like that, keep sucking my clit—fuck, yes. ‘m so close, gonna make me cum.”

“aw, i’m gonna make you cum?” he teases you, mocking your tone in a way that has shockwaves of excitement and anger shooting straight through your body. you can’t even find it in yourself to answer, and a sudden flash of red and blue has your eyes squeezing tightly shut.

“‘m cumming, ‘m c-cumming, toji!”

instead of using his tongue on your clit, toji decides to sit back and watch your cunt spasm. to prolong your orgasm and overstimulate you, he slaps your clit a few times, chuckling each time you jerk or nearly scream happily.

“hmph, ya ougtta taste yourself,” toji pulls his fingers out of you and shoves them into your mouth, feeling his cock swell in his pants as your tongue cleans his skin. it’s even better when you moan as you do so, thoroughly enjoying the taste of your cum. “how’s that, baby? if ya can sit up without any help, i’ll let you ride my face.”

a sharp knock on the window startles you, and the bright light of an officer’s flashlight shines in through the foggy glass. without wiping his face, toji reaches into the front seat and turns on the car, then rolls down the window. the light illuminates the glossy cum all over the lower half of his face, and yet he smiles widely.

“good evenin’, officer. what can i do for ya?”

KAMO CHOSO.

“keep it s-steady, baby,” despite his words, choso’s voice shakes, slightly muffled by his helmet. “gentle on the throttle—nghhh, fuck.”

one of his gloved hands is firmly holding onto your hip, gripping hard each time your cunt squeezes around his cock. the sky is now a dark curtain of nighttime, darkness speckled with stars above. in front of you, car lights flash occasionally out on the road. street signs are caught in the bright columns of the motorcycle’s headlights, greens and yellows glinting in the white glow.

you bounce your ass back on choso’s lap, nibbling at your lower lip and allowing a whimper to slip past your teeth. his cock is buried inside you, nestled deep in your hot, sticky walls and extremely sensitive. he lightly strokes his free fingers against your clit, but not too often that it’ll be a distraction—after all, you’re driving a motorcycle.

“there’s a light up ahead,” choso points out, heatwaves crashing over him despite the cool breeze.

“i see it, cho.”

the motorcycle slows as you apply the brake, and you smoothly stop at the light. instead of remaining bent forward, you sit back onto his lap, taking in the last few inches of his cock. choso startles beneath you with a gasping moan and rolls your clit between his fingers.

“cho,” you whimper breathlessly, leaning your head into his shoulder, “gimme a kiss.”

“okay,” he whispers, leaning in slowly. the helmets clash together, but he manages to peck his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. you whine when the light turns green, sitting forward to take off again. this time, your face burns as you steady your feet, and the position allows you to bounce back on his cock with newer efficiency.

“shit,” choso gasps, bucking his hips upwards to match your rhythm, “i—hah, you’re gonna make me cum, baby.”

it’s dangerous in so many ways, but you look over your shoulder at him and he sees the heat in your eyes. it’s almost like you’re daring him to bust a nut inside you while you drive his motorcycle—god, that’s exactly what you’re doing. normally, choso doesn’t enjoy playing truth or dare, but he’ll make an exception for his girl.

with one hand on your hip, he tugs you down onto his cock and jerks himself upwards to make it a little easier for you. tears prick at the corners of your eyes like they always do whenever you take his cock — he’s stretching you out and filling you up so perfectly that it’s impossible not to become overwhelmed.

“faster, baby—t-there’s nobody on the road, you can put s’more gas into it.”

so you do, watching the needle in the speedometer increase as the motorcycle gains speed. choso moans loudly, his face flushing dark red beneath his helmet while his eyes flutter shut for a moment. “g-gonna cum, baby, tell me i can, tell me i can—”

each word grows more urgent, and his voice begins to splinter and break as he begs you for permission. his fingers carelessly toy with your clit, thumb rubbing quick circles around the bud and enticing you to cum with him. you feel dizzy, seeing stars flash across your vision each time you bounce down on his cock, not to mention the additional stimulation on your clit. something hot burns in your stomach and seems to rush throughout every limb in a way that has your body and mind going numb momentarily.

“cum in me, choso,” you sob desperately, gripping the handlebars frantically, “cum with me, cum with—oh, fuck.”

your mouth falls open in shock as you have the most explosive orgasm you’ve ever had with him; your cunt flutters around his cock, drawing him deeper as if it’s the last time you’ll be together.

choso starts to babble thoughtlessly, praises and gasps falling from his lips like the words of a prayer. “yeah, ‘m cumming—ngh, i l-love you, god you’re jus’ so perfect.”

he finally spills inside you, spraying white hot cum so deep it’ll take hours to drip out. the motorcycle wavers, lurching forward toward the next set of lights. beneath the helmets, you’re both panting, coming down from your highs and trying to focus even though you’re feeling a euphoric numbness spread through your body. when his thumb nudges your clit, you jerk as though you’ve been electrocuted, whining from the sensitivity.

“are you okay?” he asks lowly, voice ragged while his hand massages at your side.

“y-yeah, i’m okay. i just—i need to do that again.”

choso laughs, causing you to do so as well. “maybe in a few more minutes. how ‘bout we change up the position so you’re on your back? if we do, i’ll be able to see that pretty face.”

[fushiguho]

₊˚✩⊹ Professor!Kento Part 2

Woah! Slow down, read part 1 first!

4:34 PM

Back and forth your feet sway before you, your gel pen mindlessly rapping against the dilapidated wooden desk upon which you restlessly slouch. Once more, your eyes are flitting toward the bright, digital clock abut the wall, seconds passing like millennium. Class ended four minutes ago and your physics professor unhurriedly paces the frigid lecture hall, blathering on about an assignment you’ve already completed.

That poor, swollen clit is throbbing. Beneath your desk, your thighs press together in fruitless attempts to lull the monotonous ache. It has been a paltry three hours since you’ve last seen him and you cannot rid the thought of your professor reduced to nothing but wet, babbling mess and for you. Over and over and over again the reel of Nanami’s thighs sprawled, pearlescent beads of hot arousal spilling down your knuckles makes your head spin.

To be such a worthy and distinguished figure, decorated with various awards and accolades, who’s even recognized amongst his peers as the epitome of wits and professionalism; and to wield such great power and authority, of course no one would expect such… debauchery. And you, to witness the way he merely crumbled beneath your fleeting touch, melting into nothing but a gasping, bucking mess — to be the one who’s responsible makes your stomach sink.

However, there remains a side of the Dr. Nanami Kento that you have yet to encounter. A version of himself that would destroy his entire career for a mere taste of your skin and you would let him. You want him to do whatever it is he’s denying himself. Whatever it is he was repressing when you drooled all over his cock earlier. The thought makes your legs cross, arousal pooling between your thighs. You have got to get out of here. And maybe it’s that same arousal that has you blindly gathering your belongings, haphazardly shoving your school supplies into your bag before slinging it over your shoulder and discreetly slipping out of the room. A girlish smile adorning your face as you skip across campus, mind racing.

4:41 PM

Curiously, you peek through the cracked door of his office. Another student sits across from him, a girl. You’re silent as you observe their conversation. She laughs girlishly at something Nanami said and your heart sinks in your chest, but why? It couldn’t have been that funny. For a moment, he peers down at his watch, keen eyes soon flitting toward the door, toward you. He smiles, cock twitching in his slacks.

When his gaze eventually finds yours, you slip out of view, pressing your back to the brick wall alongside the door as you inspire a sharp breath. Their conversation quiets, replaced with the sound of scooting chairs and zipping bags. Soon, your classmate is leaving, thanking him kindly before exiting the room. Hi, she mutters in passing, a cordial nod and a tight lipped smile. You return the gesture.

“You’re early.” Nanami calls from inside.

Slowly, you peek your head into view again before fully stepping inside of the familiar room, quietly closing the door behind you. “Sorry, I really didn’t think anyone came to your office hours, genuinely.”

His shameless gaze envelops you, committing this perfect sketch of you to memory, stowing the mental snapshot away into the deepest facet of his mind, alongside the image of you slapping his cock against your tongue. God, if only brought his camera. His head falls to the right, several blonde wisps of hair following. It’s hardly a joke, but he challenges you. “Why? Because it’s English?”

You shrug indifferently. “I just don’t really think the material is that challenging.”

“Well, not everyone is as gifted as yourself, you do realize that?” He reminds. “You’re a real intelligent girl, beyond your years… far too smart for this place, anyway.”

You’re used to this, his sweet and genuine words of praise. You don’t ever seem to mind when he pulls you aside after class to commend you for being such an exemplary student. Strangely, it feels different this time. An audible breath parts your lips at his words. His timbre, honeyed voice is narcotic. Your gaze falls to the tiled floor as you thank him quietly, mindlessly picking your nails to avoid his lingering stare.

An idle grin mars his lips, long, gaunt legs deliciously sprawled apart. Those damned tan slacks hug the muscle of his thighs just how they’re meant to; that fat, unmistakable bulge resting so heavily between them, waiting. The cerulean fabric of his dress shirt is neatly tucked beneath his waistband, speckled tie already hanging low from his neck. He pats his lap invitingly and with a soft jerk of his head, he’s waving you over and you don’t hesitate.

“You went all shy on me, what happened to my eager girl?” He frowns, pulling you onto his lap.

A sweet, timid laugh parts your lips and his cock swells. You’re so pretty to him. Maybe even the prettiest girl on campus if it were up to him anyway. He’s leaning back in his large, swiveling chair as you clamber to situate yourself onto his lap. You inspire a nervous, shuddered breath, the fresh linen of his pressed, button up shirt dizzying. He always smells so clean. That imperious gaze of his is falling to the cleavage that spills out the confines of your quarter zip jacket, the university’s emblem on the right side of your chest.

“I can’t stop thinkin’ about you…” you finally whisper, pretty eyes flitting to his, “think I’m going crazy.”

Nanami only laughs, pushing his gold, wired glasses further up the bridge of his nose. His embrace is so warm and alluring that you could just kiss him, he would let you. He would let you explore his mouth entirely if that’s what you desire. You could do anything to him. Oddly enough, this is the closest you have ever been. Earlier, you were only between his legs, never did you kiss him. A groan nearly spills past his lips as he watches your gaze descent to his mouth. He grins, those near perfect teeth gleaming. “I wouldn’t go as far as to say crazy, maybe curious?”

You hum, agreeing. Nanami doesn’t have any qualms about correcting others, especially his students. He sees no reason to tolerate nonsensical thinking regardless of the context or degree. It’s precisely why he holds such a valuable role in the community in the first place — he’s unbiased, sensible, and logical. “I still feel crazy.” You mumble anyway, knowing he’s only right.

“Guess that makes two of us then.” He smiles again, gaze falling to your subconsciously parting lips. A big, mindless hand smooths over your thigh, trailing around your waist before slyly creeping up the expanse of your back, pulling you closer. “Were you thinking about me in class?”

“Yes.” It’s hardly a whisper.

He nods before prying. “Was it something in particular? I like details, you know that. I do teach English after all.”

You hum, glossed lips twisting in thought. “About you, uh…” a long, deafening beat passes and you shrug, swallowing thickly, “about you like… fucking me and… stuff.” Your voice trails in a coy whisper and his heart swells.

Nanami too hums, that poor cock aching. “Is that what you want? Me to fuck you and stuff?”

“Yes.” It’s merely a breath against his lips and he can taste you.

“How do you want it? Show me.”

You expel an audible breath, heart sinking in your chest. Nanami urges you on, jerking his head toward his desk behind you. You swallow what feels like a brick as you nod, pushing yourself off of his lap to clamber atop of his tidied wooden desk. He watches as you shift around, merely preparing yourself for him. Slowly, you’re lying back to rest on your elbows, your sweet gaze so beautiful and shy. Your legs are then falling open embarrassingly wide before him, your clothed pussy on display, waiting.

“Like this.” You mutter and his jaw falls slack.

God, he could just devour you whole, saving absolutely nothing for anyone else, not even you. His unrelenting gaze follows your legs as they continue to sprawl wider. He can hardly help the way he’s sitting up just a bit higher in his leather chair, curiously observing how the fabric of your teensy little shorts hug your cunt, your pretty laced panties peeking from beneath. The dimmed lamp on the far side of his desk catches the gleaming, darkened patch of arousal that dampens the cotton. A shuddered breath of incredulity parts his lips, the head of his cock drooling in his briefs.

“God, is that how you want me?” He all but groans, his eyes shifting to meet yours once again. “Like that?”

You nod slightly, chest heaving. “Please.”

The very moment your desperate hand falls between your legs, impatiently pushing the fabric aside to dull the ache, Nanami loses all sense of himself. What’s left of his resolve is dragging from his gaped mouth in a deep, guttural groan as he creeps closer; the muted click! of his polished loafers against the tiled floor has your stomach caving in arousal.

“Do you know how pretty you are?” He’s between your thighs now, peering up at you from where he sits in his leather chair, rounded glasses slowly slipping down the bridge of his nose. “Christ and these… shorts? Why are you doing this to me?”

His long, nimble fingers are undoing the small bow at the top of your shorts, two big hands soon tugging at your waistband. Deliriously, your head is craning back, a sweet, shuddered whimper escaping your mouth. The warmth of his breath as it fans your inner thigh is like kindle to a rampant flame, but it’s the slow, wet trail of his lips that burns, irrevocably marking you as his. Your hips buck desperately, chasing his fleeting lips and he can’t help but huff out a low, breathy laugh.

“I know.” He hums, placing a warm, sloppy kiss to the outside of your dampened panties. “I know, I know, I know. Just let me have this… let me taste you.” His tongue is hot against your cunt, mindlessly licking you through the sheer, flimsy fabric.

The prettiest whimper falls from your lips, ringing against his perked ears so deliciously. You sound utterly perfect — so raw and shameless and slutty, just as he had imagined. Nanami can’t help the desperate hand that’s creeping down to fully squeeze his painful erection, swollen balls aching. Arousal drools against the cotton of his briefs, dampening through his uncomfortably tightening slacks. He is so hard that it hurts. That poor, needy cock just throbs over and over and over again, wordlessly begging for something, anything.

Both of you are dripping. Warm, sticky arousal seeps through the sheer fabric of your panties, the saliva from his sloppy kisses furthering the mess. Kiss after agonizing kiss renders you breathless, trembling hips bucking so whorishly against his pretty face and he lets you. That sweet, desperate pussy smearing against his chin, his lips, his nose. Nanami doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he’s inhaling deeply, committing the sweet smell of your arousal to memory.

With a gruff, impatient groan, your soiled panties are being tugged down, down, down and pocketed. Nanami shoves the flimsy undergarment into the back of his slacks, the prolific arousal that adorns them bleeding through the tan fabric. Before you can harness a breath or a coherent thought, two greedy hands are prying you open, that pretty pussy so warm and sloppy and all for him. He wholly moans, drool pooling against his tongue like that of a starved dog.

“Yes,” he mutters more to himself than anything, the entirety of his mouth enveloping you, “yes, god.” Saliva pools against your visibly tightening hole as he whispers into your cunt — sweet prayers of your name and inaudible utters of praise merely lost between your quivering thighs. “Such a perfect, sloppy cunt. God, I fucking knew it.” His big tongue is delving between your pretty, gleaming lips and he fucking moans.

A longgg, pleasureful moan belts from his occupied mouth, tasting you as if it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. Immediately, Nanami can feel himself slipping into a true state of drunkenness. His sloppy tongue is languidly sweeping across your clit before entirely sinking inside of you, drinking you from the source. Another moan is lost within your essence, the timbre of his voice against your quivering lips narcotic.

Your maw sags, hanging wide and desperately pleading for more, more, more, yet wanting so badly to clamp your thighs around his head because it feels too good. Two, fat thumbs are brazenly spreading your lips apart, his erratic breaths so warm against your clit that it aches. Nanami pulls away just barely, saliva pooling behind his lips. He drops his head, gaze flitting to yours before spitting directly into your cunt. He nearly cums as he observes the way his saliva dribbles from the head of your quivering clit alll the way down to your desperate, tightening hole. It’s creeping even lower, slipping between the valley of your ass before collecting in an obscene puddle beneath you, ruining the stained wood of his desk.

Nanami sits up higher in his chair, mindlessly pushing your thighs to your chest to see more of you. Each time his tongue lolls out of his mouth, he rasps a hungry breath, jaw nearly unhinging to fully mouth your cunt. Curiously, both his middle and ring finger are sinking inside of you with an obscene squelch! prying your mouth open in a loud, helpless wail of pleasure. His long, manicured digits stuff you full, your slick walls clamping down around them, wordlessly begging for more.

“God.” It’s a sweet, incredulous gasp, pretty hips rolling to meet his face. “Oh god. It’s s— sooo good… your mouth feels s’good, fuuuck!”

Desperately, he squeezes his cock again, the prettiest groan spilling against your pussy. As his slick lips are wrapping around your swollen clit to suck noisily, his fingers are delving deeper and deeper, furling upward each time he sinks back inside. The soft pads of the curious digits brush against your tensing walls so many times that your mouth sags in a long, sweet cry of rapture. A warm, tender kiss to the head of your clit forces your legs to tighten around his head, but it’s fine because Nanami is absentmindedly prying them back apart as if it’s second nature.

With a flattened tongue, he’s licking up, up, up from your pretty, leaking hole toward the head of your clit. He does it again, and again, and again, breathing harder against you each time. His inebriated breaths are so hot against your clit that it renders you brainless. Nanami is obnoxiously loud too, groaning unabashedly against your cunt, muttering a slew of drunken babbles, reckless praises, and unintelligible pleas.

To be such a civil, well mannered man, one of reticent emotions who wears his stoicism like a medallion, Nanami has fucking lost himself completely. Reduced to nothing but an utter mess between your trembling thighs. He’s not there, not really, but rather lost in the endless abyss of pleasure that is you. He can no longer hear nor see anymore. Blood roars behind his ears, all he can make sense of is the feeling of your slobbering hole fluttering against his tongue and fingers.

He wholly drools against your pussy, greedily chasing his own saliva before it can drip against the wood beneath you, but only to spit it right back onto your clit, repeating the cruel cycle all over again. The helpless gasp that parts your lips is peerless. Nanami’s eyes flit up briefly, observing the way you writhe against his tongue, hips suspended into the air as you buck so sluttily, hands clamped over your mouth.

“You are so… sooo fucking pretty, such a pretty girl.” A heavy thumb is pressed firm against your clit. Steady, monotonous circles tracing over and over and over and — “What are you doing to me? Turnin’ me into such a… whore.” He slurs between long, purposeful drags of his tongue. “And those fucking videos, god.”

“I’m s— sorry.” You whine, head lolling back deliriously to dangle beyond his desk. “Fuck, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to send them!”

Peering up from between your thighs, glasses fogged, Nanami cracks a slow, drunken smile, the lower half of his face glistening. “Yes, you did.” Is all he whispers, a deep, breathy chuckle ensuing, aerating against your cunt. “You meant to and that’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Of course it’s okay and it’s only because Nanami was half tempted to send you a file in return — an obscenely lengthy video of him fucking his hand so desperately, your pretty name tumbling from his raptured tongue like a prayer. His bare, slutty hips jerking to meet his closed fist with every subsequent stroke, long, white rivulets of cum spilling down his sticky fingers. The video still sits in his photo album, waiting.

“Mmmh fuck!” Your stomach caves, so much of your arousal swirling throughout your body that you can hardly help the hands that are grasping for the back of his head, threading throughout his mussed hair as you greedily tug him closer. “Fuuuck, oh my god I… m’gonna cum!” Again and again and again your hips rut against his face, that swollen, twitching clit brushing across the tip of his nose each time. 

He pants against your drooling cunt, begging. “Please cum for me,” his vacant hand paws at the thick of your hip, pulling you impossibly closer, his warm, eager tongue gliding between your glossy lips, “pleasepleaseplease cum for me… on my tongue.” He whines between noisy laps and slurps of your arousal.

Not a single, seraphic inch of your cunt is left untouched. Nanami’s tongue is relentless, completely consuming your pussy and everything she has to offer. His warm tongue is sliding up the length of your lips, his erratic breaths hot and loud against the juncture where your thigh and pussy meet; it’s licking up the expanse of your plush, inner thigh, a glistening trail of saliva left in his wake; it’s even sinking back inside of you, urging you on.

“Come on, pretty girl.” He encourages, peering above the frames of his condensed glasses as he thumbs your clit. “Cum for me… allll over my tongue and I’ll fuck you however you want… however this pretty little pussy wants. I swear to god.”

His unrelenting gaze swallows you whole, observing the slow, depraved arch of your back; how your breasts press against the thick, tangible air; the obscene buck of your hips as you chase your impending orgasm. God, even the discernible hitch in your breath that interrupts the sweet cries of his name as you cum all over his face makes his stomach churn. A vacant hand is creeping down to squeeze the length of his cock yet again, his desperate moans lost in your bountiful release.

You possess half the brain to register just how much you actually came until Nanami is eventually willing himself away with a deep gasp of air, face gleaming. A slow, woozy smirk pries his lips apart, teeth bared, his rounded glasses crooked and wet. His eyes linger on yours as he drops his head again, pushing up the hem of your jacket to plant kiss after tender kiss against the perspiring skin of your heaving stomach.

Like a sunflower growing toward the warmth of the sun, your body coils into his touch, back arching up and off of his wooden desk, mouth gaping as you whine. His warm, affectionate kisses creep higher and higher, a long, wet trail left in his wake. His lips are grazing along the curve of your chin, deliberately inching toward your parted lips. A contemporary, breathless moan drags from both your mouths as he finally tastes you, your saccharine essence heavy on his breath.

“Come home with me.” It’s whispered against your lips, his big hands cupping your face. “I don’t want to fuck you like this… not here. You deserve better than that.” Just barely, he’s pulling away, his softened gaze searching for yours. “Come home with me, please.”

You nod, biting back your eagerness with a smile. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He repeats, grinning. “Let’s get you cleaned up then.”

fushiguho

part 3 is on the horizon, don't you worry!

tag list @ljpauli @mylannhz @vintag3u @loveme-b4by @haruhatake @peachygelic @fictionalwench @medusamara5 @dragongirlpoet @just-here-for-ff @nanamiscsleeve @havemercysukuna

[ohproserpine]

v. deer dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, heavy warning for violence and bloof, graphic descriptions of injuries, manipulation, allusion to death, grey morality, references to alcoholism, twisted view of love, gorey descriptions of love, murder

"THAT SLAG!"

Velvette's piercing scream echoed through the meeting room, slicing through the air. Vox and Valentino jolted, turning their gazes toward the source of the disturbance.

"Good-for-nothing piece of shit twat assistant!" Velvette paced the room, her movements agitated and frantic as she angrily tapped away on her phone.

In a sudden surge of anger, she flung her device across the room, sending it flying above Valentino's head. A crash punctuated the air as it collided with a window, the impact shattering the glass into shards that rained down onto the floor.

"Velvette, darling," Vox raised an eyebrow, his voice calm as always, "What's got you so worked up?"

He took a sip of his coffee, the rich aroma wafting up from the steaming cup as he idly scrolled through his laptop. "Is it that showgirl situation again?"

"Oh, bloody hell!" Velvette rolled her eyes. "Of course, it is, you git! It's been literally the ONLY thing I've been banging on about this week!"

Valentino's sigh cut through the conversation as he adjusted his sunglasses. Holding his glittering firearm up to his face, he pressed rhinestones on it with tacky glue, unfazed by Velvette's anger.

"It's just some performer, babydoll. We can find a replacement."

"Are you out of your mind?!" Velvette seethed as she stormed toward them, her heels clicking loudly with each step. With a forceful slam of her hands against the table, it shifted forward, jolting the items on its surface. With a hiss of pain, Vox recoiled, his hand jerking back from the scalding coffee he had spilled on himself.

"The boutique opening is in three days! How on earth am I supposed to find a girl who's got the looks and a set of pipes in time?!" she exclaimed.

Valentino looked up from his bedazzling, a raised eyebrow visible above the rim of his sunglasses. "Have you tried one of my models? I got a lot of pretty little chicas who can charm the socks off anyone. No need to stress yourself out."

"Your models? Do you have any idea how much time and effort it's going to take for me to wrangle those little amateurs into something remotely resembling a professional performance?" Velvette scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Sod off!"

Valentino snarled in response but turned away with a huff, muttering under his breath, "Have it your way."

"If I may," Vox spoke, wiping his hand with a grumble, the sting of the burn still lingering. He tilted his head slightly, raising a single brow. "Have you tried scouting?"

"Have I tried scouting?" Velvette mocked, her hands waving around in frustration. "Of course I have! All I've come across are bloody singers around here, and they all look like they've been dragged through the dirt backwards!"

"Well, have you tried the back district?" he offered, tapping his claws on the long glass table. He watched as Velvette pulled out a pocket mirror from her purse, visibly cringing at his suggestion.

"Why in bloody hell would I go there?" Velvette grimaced as she re-applied her dark lipstick. "I'm not about to waste my time scouring the back district for some dime-a-dozen talent. I need someone who's got class, not gutter scraps."

"Well, there's this performer," Vox insisted, snapping his fingers. A screen materialized with a whiz, displaying a video of a figure in a sparkly silver dress singing and dancing. As the video drew to a close, the camera zoomed in, capturing a close-up of the woman's face. Her features were radiant, a smile gracing her lips as she gazed out at the audience.

Velvette snapped her mirror shut with a flick of her wrist, interest sparking in her eyes. She leaned in closer, studying the performer's features.

"Who's this?" she quipped.

"Dolly, at least that's what they call her," Vox hummed, sliding the screen over to Velvette. "She works at Mimzy's Lounge."

Velvette's expression darkened, strands of hair falling over her eyes as she took the screen in her hands, leaning down to view the image again. The glow of the projection illuminated her face, casting shadows that danced across her steely expression.

"Mimzy?" she uttered the name slowly, her lips dripping with venom. "That's the cunt who tore up my best showgirl!"

"Drama," Valentino chuckled, spinning his bedazzled gun around his fingers.

"Well, this Dolly girl is her biggest star, and she's been making quite a name for herself there," Vox drawled, gesturing toward the screen. With a tap of his claw on the screen, he zoomed in closer. "She's got the looks, the voice, and the stage presence you're looking for."

"And she's managed to shine even in the shadow of that cesspool," he added with a sardonic grin as he sipped from his coffee.

A flicker ignited in Velvette's eyes as she straightened. "Then it's settled. I'll pay her a visit."

"Sounds like you've got a plan brewing, my dear. Care for some company?" Vox spoke with a smirk playing on his lips.

Velvette shot him a knowing glance before a grin tugged at the corner of her lips. "Why not? I could use some of your charm."

.

"Cher? Dearest? It's time to get up," the radio atop your bedside table rumbled, your husband's voice crackling through the air.

Grunting in protest, you burrowed deeper into the warmth of your blankets, seeking refuge from the harsh bite of the morning. But Alastor's persistent calls refused to be ignored.

"Mon cœur? Cher? W̷A̴K̶E̴ ̶U̸P̷!̶" it blared, the words amplified by hissing static, demanding attention like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly peeled yourself away from the cocoon of comfort that had enveloped you. Sitting up, you felt the blanket slip from your shoulders, pooling around your hips. Memories of last night flooded in, and the remnants of Alastor's romantic gesture still adorned your room. The bouquet sat atop your dresser, with scattered white roses delicately strewn across your bed like whispers of affection.

Despite the tender atmosphere, a throbbing headache reminded you of an unwelcome guest that accompanied you into the morning—the hangover.

Dragging yourself to the side, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and sat for a moment, rubbing your temples in a futile attempt to ease the discomfort. Then, pushing yourself to your feet, you padded across the room, the cool floorboards sending a shiver through your bare skin. You picked up the radio, its incessant blare akin to an annoying alarm clock, with Alastor's voice still grating on your nerves.

"Alright. Alright. I'm up, love," you grumbled, rubbing at your eyes which still felt thick with sleep.

The radio rumbled with delight at your response.

"Hellish morning to you, my dear!" Alastor's voice boomed through the speakers, his jovial tone slicing through the early morning gloom. Despite your grogginess, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sound of his voice.

"Hellish morning to you too, darling," you returned, laced with affection.

"I trust you had a restful sleep?" Alastor questioned.

"As restful as one can get with a noisy radio blaring in their ear," you sighed, already feeling the weight of the day bearing down on you.

"Hah!" Alastor laughed, the sound making you roll your eyes. "But where ever would you be without my dulcet tones to serenade you awake?"

"Probably catching a few more precious minutes of sleep," you muttered, already regretting the start of another day. “You are insufferable, you know that?”

"Ah, but that's why you love me."

Back in his hotel room, Alastor chuckled to himself as he shrugged on his suit jacket. From his microphone, he caught the rustling of your clothes, followed by the gentle rush of running water.

With a flick of his wrist, Alastor summoned a gramophone, its boxy form materializing atop his dresser with a soft thud. Soon enough, the needle gently descended onto the spinning vinyl record, releasing a soft, nostalgic melody that filled the room.

I'll never smile again Until I smile at you I'll never laugh again What good would it do?

As Alastor began to sing along, his smooth voice seeping through the rusting speakers of the radio, you paused in the middle of washing your hair, caught off guard by the unexpected serenade.

"Stupid, stupid man," you muttered under your breath with a shake of your head. And yet, despite yourself, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, warmth creeping into your heart.

For tears would fill my eyes My heart would realize That our romance is through

Exiting the bath, you toweled yourself off and approached your wardrobe, humming softly as you selected your attire for the day. After scanning through the hangers, you settled on a vibrant red hooverette dress. With matching stockings and white heels, you completed the look, the final touch being a few roses plucked from the bouquet Alastor had given you, tucked behind your ear.

I'll never love again I'm so in love with you I'll never thrill again To somebody new

Dressed and ready to face the day, you returned to the radio, the soft strains of music and Alastor's voice still lingering in the air. As the final notes faded into silence, you stood for a moment, savoring the fleeting illusion of domestic bliss for a moment longer.

With a pang of sadness, you glanced at the clock, realizing that it was time to go.

"I have to head out now, darling," you spoke into the radio, feeling a tug at your heartstrings. "My shift starts in a while."

"Ah, until we meet again, mon cher," Alastor's voice replied warmly. "Do take care of yourself."

In response, you leaned down to press a kiss against the speakers, a gesture of your affection. The soft sound of the kiss was barely audible, but Alastor's ears perked up and caught the gentle touch against the metal surface. He chuckled softly, then, with a soft click, the radio fell silent.

As you slipped your purse over your shoulder, a thought crossed your mind—should you bring the radio along? The temptation to have Alastor's voice with you throughout the day was strong, but the risk of further damaging the precious device gave you pause. With a sigh, you decided against it, opting to leave it safely in your room, where it would patiently await your return.

Heading out of your room, the lounge was already buzzing with the hustle and bustle of customers and staff. Although no singer graced the stage yet, the speakers blasted with the familiar tunes of Hell’s Top 10 Hits.

"There you are!" Mimzy's voice cut through the lively atmosphere, her smile failing to reach her eyes as she bounded towards you.

"Mimzy," you greeted flatly, acknowledging her with a nod.

"How are ya doin', doll? Just the person I was looking for," she purred with a bat of her eyes. "Alright, listen, I've got a marvelous idea for a performance."

You sighed inwardly, bracing yourself for whatever scheme she had cooked up this time. Mimzy's requests were as extravagant as they were challenging, always pushing the boundaries to maintain her club's "reputation" and squeeze every last dime from these sinners' wallets.

"Let's hear it," you replied, mustering a polite smile.

"So, I was thinking," Mimzy began, tapping her finger along her chin, "how about a duet? A throwback to the good ole days, sharing the spotlight. It's bound to be a performance these wayward fools are going to talk about for ages!"

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the relatively tame suggestion. The blonde wasn't exactly known for her subtlety or restraint when it came to showmanship. At most, a duet with Mimzy was sure to be a spectacle, for better or for worse.

"And when is this going to be held?" you grinned tensely, hands at your hips. There was bound to be a switch somewhere.

"When else? Prime time tonight!" Mimzy giggled as she threw up her hands with a flourish.

And there it was.

"Tonight?" Your eyes widened, shoulders squaring in shock. "Miss Ma'am, that's cutting it a bit close, don't you think?"

"Bushwa! We'll make it work," Mimzy replied dismissively, waving off your concerns with a flick of her hand. "And I've already got the perfect song in mind. It'll be a real humdinger, mark my words."

"Alright," you sighed, hoping for the best but bracing yourself for the chaos that was sure to follow. "Tonight it is."

"That's the spirit! Hell, why don't you take the morning off?" Mimzy grinned as she hurried off down the hallway to make preparations. "I'll see you tonight! Make sure to be here by sunset!"

Standing by the stairs as stiff as a pole, you watched her skip off with an unusually chipper air. It struck you as odd, but you pushed the thought aside, eager to have the morning to yourself. As you turned away, however, your head throbbed once more, the reminder of your hangover cutting through the moment.

"Looks like a ciggy is in order," you muttered to yourself, rubbing at your throbbing temples. Making your way outside, hoping to smoke away the edge of discomfort.

Trudging along the filthy backstreets, you did your best to avoid the muck and other questionable liquids that lined the roadside. The stench of decay hung heavy in the air, assaulting your senses with each step you took.

No one spared you a glance as you passed; the citizens of hell were absorbed in their own pursuits or concerns, and you blended into the backdrop of the grim landscape. 

Finally reaching a clearer stretch of street, you took a seat on one of the benches, the worn wood groaning under your weight. The city bustled around you, a mix of sounds and movements that seemed to blur together.

With a weary sigh, you reached into your bag in search of company—nicotine.

Fingers fumbling through the contents of your purse, you felt the familiar shape of the roll, and with a hum, pulled it out. However, as you continued to rummage through your belongings, a sinking realization settled in.

Your matchbox wasn't there.

Dropping your head into your hands with a scowl, you could feel the stress mounting within you, bubbling up like a simmering pot ready to boil over.

Wallowing in your misfortune, you failed to notice someone approaching you from behind. A sudden tap on your shoulder jolted you, and as you turned, you found yourself face to face with a tall and slender spider-like demon. His frame was practically drowning in a plush white fur coat, the color almost blending into his skin. It contrasted sharply with the sleekness of the black bodycon dress clinging onto his curves underneath.

"Need a light?" he asked casually as he held up a pink-colored lighter.

You eyed him skeptically for a moment.

In hell, kindness often came with a price. Whether it was a favor owed, a debt to be repaid, or simply a hidden agenda waiting to be revealed, nothing came for free. However, when your head throbbed again, you sighed and relented with a nod, accepting the offer despite your reservations.

Angel Dust ignited the lighter, the flame pirouetting gracefully and flickering in the wind. Drawing closer, you leaned in, offering the tip of your cigarette to the flame. With a gentle hiss, the tobacco caught fire, wisps of smoke curling into the air like ethereal dancers. As you took a deep, shaky inhale, the saccharine poison of the smoke flooded your lungs, leaving a bittersweet taste lingering on your tongue. Shutting your eyes, a sense of calm washed over you as you leaned back, letting yourself be carried away by the fleeting tranquility of the moment.

Remembering you had company, you grounded yourself and opened your eyes. "Thank you ever so much, dear. Can I have your name?" you asked, tilting your head up at him. The stranger moved to sit down next to you, the worn wood of the bench creaking under his weight.

"Angel Dust," he said, and your eyes shot wide open, lips forming an 'O' shape.

"The porn star?" you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

"Didn't take you as the type to watch my shit, toots," Angel laughed heartily as his grin widened from ear to ear in response, his golden tooth gleaming at you like a wink.

"Well, I may not be your typical fan, but your name does tend to make its rounds in conversation," you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. Taking a drag from your cigarette, you gestured with it casually. "I saw you in my husb—erm, the Radio Demon's commercial. Hazbin Hotel, was it?"

"Yeah, and don't worry, I know. Dolly, was it?" Angel Dust replied smoothly, his demeanor surprisingly nonchalant given the situation. Extending his hand for you to shake, he continued, "Nice to finally put a face to the name."

His confession caught you off guard, but you shook his hand firmly nonetheless. "How did you—did Alastor tell you about me? You two must be close."

Angel Dust hesitated, a grimace crossing his features. His crimson eyes darted away briefly, as if weighing his words carefully.

"Let's just say... word gets around in our circles," he replied vaguely, tugging his coat closer around himself.

"I don't know him that well, though," Angel Dust admitted with a shrug, his gaze drifting off momentarily. "Sometimes he can be a bit..."

"A pompous dick with a sadistic streak?" you suggested, exhaling smoke as you raised an eyebrow at Angel Dust, testing the waters.

Angel Dust laughed genuinely, throwing his head back. "Something along those lines, toots," he grinned, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Well, it's good to know I'm not the only one who sees it," you remarked, a wry smile playing on your lips.

"Believe me, ya ain't alone in that," he agreed. "So, ah—What brings ya out here? Aside from the obvious need for a blow."

"Just needed some fresh air," you admitted with a shrug. "Plus, I may have indulged a bit too much last night and woke up feeling like death warmed over."

"I hear ya," Angel Dust replied, nodding sympathetically as he raked his eyes over your worn-out form, noting the slump of your body and the dark circles under your eyes. You looked so different from the sparkly performer he had seen on stage days ago.

"Hey, I actually caught one of ya shows the other night," he piped up, attempting to shift the conversation to a lighter topic.

"Did you?" you cooed, surprise evident in your voice.

"Yeah," Angel nodded, stretching out on the bench, spreading both his arms across the back of the wood. "Gotta say, ya put on quite the show up there. I mean—ya had the crowd eating out of the palm of ya hand."

A faint smile crept onto your cheeks at his praise, a swell of pride rising within you.

"Well, thank you," you bowed your head in gratitude, momentarily forgetting your fatigue in the warmth of his words. "It means a lot coming from someone like you."

Angel Dust waved off your thanks with a casual flick of his hand, lips jutting out in a playful pout.

"Ah, c'mon. I call it like I see it," he grinned with a shrug. "N'trust me, I've seen my fair share of performances."

Lost in the easy flow of conversation, you surrendered to the comfort of the moment, finding solace in the presence of your spider companion. Hours passed, and before you knew it, the sun dipped below the horizon,  painting the park in hues of golden warmth.

A jarring ringtone shattered the moment, causing Angel Dust to glance down at his phone with a whistle. His brows furrowed as he scrolled through a flurry of notifications, irritation flashing across his features.

"As much as I'm enjoying our little chat, duty calls," he sighed, flicking away ash from his cigarette. "Can't keep the boss waiting."

You nodded in understanding, offering a wave as he rose from the bench. "No worries, Angel. Catch you later."

"Looking forward to it, dollface," he replied with a wink before sauntering off into the city streets, leaving you to enjoy the peace alone. After a few minutes of watching the sunset, you decided it was time to go. You stubbed out your cigarette and rose from the bench, making your way out.

As you approached the streets leading to the lounge, the neon lights of the city burst into life, casting vibrant reflections on the pavement. Climbing the stairs to the entrance, you were enveloped by the familiar sights and sounds of the establishment. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and cigarette smoke, mingling with the pulsating rhythm of the music from within.

Mimzy was nowhere to be seen, which came as a welcome relief. And with a last scan to ensure she wasn't lurking anywhere nearby, you made a beeline straight to your dressing room, eager to ready yourself for tonight's performance in peace without a certain blonde talking your ear off.

Taking a seat at the vanity, you began to prepare for the evening ahead, carefully applying your makeup and fixing your hair into place.

A sudden knock broke your routine, prompting you to rise from your seat and stride over to the door. With a quick twist of the knob, you swung it open, revealing an imp demon. White blotches adorned his skin, and he sported sunglasses perched high up on his nose. In his hands, he held up a box, his expression expectant as he waited for your reaction.

"May I help you?" you murmured, tilting your head at him, curiosity coloring your tone.

"Yeah. Are you Dolly?" the imp asked, his tone curt and impatient.

"Yes?" you replied, a brow raised.

"Great. This is for you, lady," he said, thrusting the box of jewelry toward you. "If you could just sign here so I can get the hell out of this shithole, that'd be great."

You accepted the box from the imp demon's outstretched hand, eyeing him warily as he thrust a pen and clipboard in your direction. With a resigned sigh, you reluctantly took the pen and scrawled your signature on the dotted line, handing the clipboard back to him with a curt nod.

"Thanks," he muttered, barely sparing you a glance as he turned on his heel and hurried away, disappearing into the crowded hallway of the club.

Interest piqued, you turned your attention back to the box in your hands. With a gentle touch, you ran your fingers along the surface and lifted the lid of the box. Nestled amidst folds of satin lay a pearl necklace, the orbs gleaming as if moonlight itself was captured and trapped within. At its heart, a rose pendant bloomed, its petals of silver. 

Taken aback, you reached for the small card tucked within the box. Gently retrieving, you turned it around to see the words "From Al" penned gracefully in elegant script.

"Oh, you cheese…"

With a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips, you delicately lifted the necklace from its satin-lined cocoon, feeling the cool weight of the pearls in your palm. As you draped it around your neck, the pendant nestled against your collarbone.

Feeling as giddy as a teenager in love, you turned away from the vanity, your heart fluttering with excitement. With a skip in your step, you crossed the room to the wardrobe, fingers dancing over the array of neatly hung dresses.

Before your fingers could grasp onto a dress, a sudden deafening explosion tore through the air. The sound was thunderous, shaking the walls and causing the ground beneath your feet to tremble violently. The shockwave slammed into you with palpable force, knocking you off balance and sending you crashing to the floor amidst a cloud of dust and debris.

Alarm flashed across your features as your heart pounded in your chest, the adrenaline coursing through your veins like a raging river. With trembling hands, you pushed yourself up from the ground.

What in hell was that?

Staggering to your feet, you ran out into the lounge. As the dust settled, you could see the entrance of the lounge now reduced to a gaping maw, the doors blown open by the force of the explosion. The familiar sights and sounds of the club were replaced by a scene of utter devastation, with debris strewn haphazardly across the floor and smoke billowing out into the night air.

Two ominous figures cast dark shadows amidst the panicked frenzy of staff and customers.

Struggling to discern the figures amidst the chaos, you squinted, trying to make out the details. One of them was a slender demon, dressed immaculately, with cedar-brown skin and long, fiery red curls tied into neat pigtails.

A sinking feeling settled in your chest as you recognized her as one of Hell's infamous overlords. Your heart plummeted further as you caught sight of Mimzy, ensnared in Velvette's vice-like grip, fear twisting her features as she struggled against her captor.

But it was the presence of the figure behind Velvette that truly sent a shiver down your spine.

The TV Demon, Vox.

His gaze swept over the room with a detached coldness, as if the pandemonium were of little consequence. Suddenly, his icy eyes locked onto yours, freezing you in place.

"Mimzy, dear," Vox's voice buzzed with deceptive sweetness as he addressed the shaking blonde. "Why don't you go and have a little chat with your esteemed employee about our... conditions?"

Wide-eyed with fear, Mimzy frantically nodded, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

"Make it quick," Velvette scoffed, releasing her grip on Mimzy's throat. The blonde stumbled toward you, her movements shaky and unsteady.

"What is—" you started, but Mimzy cut you off, panic evident as she began to drag you backstage. Without a moment's hesitation, she pushed you into your dressing room, swiftly locking the door behind you.

"Mimzy, what in hell is going on out there?" you demanded, leaning down to her height and shaking her by the arms.

Mimzy's breaths came in ragged gasps as she leaned against the door, her eyes wide with terror. She struggled to find her words, her entire figure trembling as she tried to compose herself.

"It's Velvette," she finally managed to choke out.

"Why is she here? What does she want from us?" you pressed, urgency creeping into your tone as you searched Mimzy's face for answers. But her response only added to your unease.

"You need to go with them," Mimzy decided abruptly.

"Go with who? What are you talking about?" you asked, your voice turning breathless with disbelief.

"She's out for payback, see? And she won't stop until she gets it," Mimzy explained, her tone grave yet determined, like she had some ace up her sleeve. "I gotta level the playing field, doll. She wants a replacement, and she's chosen you."

"I can't just go along with this!" your voice rose to a shout as you began to shake her again, nails digging into the chiffon of her glove. "My contract with you ends in a year. If I go with them, I'll be their pawn for all of eternity!"

"I can't just risk Velvette destroying everything I've built!" Mimzy defended herself, her tone devoid of remorse. "Do you have any idea how much work it took for me to get this place running?!"

Anger surged within you, fueled by betrayal and fear. "What about me? What about Alastor?"

"Oh, him again!" Mimzy shook her arms away from your grip and pushed herself off the door. "You've been so obsessed with that radio fool, you've forgotten who's been with you since the very start! Ever since you got hitched to him, you stopped caring about a damn thing!"

"I cared! And I still bloody well care, Mimzy!" you shot back, your voice rising with anger. Your eyes blazed with fire, cracks beginning to form on your face as your demon form threatened to break free. "But you were an empty, hollow shell of a woman with naught in her head but money! You'd sell out anyone, even me, to get what you want!"

Mimzy recoiled slightly, her façade momentarily cracked by your words. "You-You think you're any better? Running off with your precious Alastor, pretending like he's the savior of your life. But I know you've heard his broadcasts. I know you've seen the news. He's no better than me, playing you like a puppet while hiding behind his façade of being a good man!"

Enraged, you lunged forward, tackling her against the wall. As fury consumed you, your form contorted and twisted, taking on a monstrous semblance. Your features morphed, sharpening into angular lines, while cracks spiderwebbed across your skin like shattered porcelain. Limbs stretched and warped, turning jagged and broken, resembling the joints of a marionette. Teeth elongated into razor-sharp fangs, and as you bared them in a snarl, your lips curled back in a grotesque mockery of a mouth. "Say that again! I fucking dare you!"

"I'll say it as many times as I damn well please!" Mimzy spat, her voice trembling as she locked eyes with your hollow gaze. "Until you get it through your fucking thick, cracked skull!"

The blonde's hand darted to a nearby object, seizing hold of a picture frame within reach. With sudden, fierce motion, she swung it, the weighty wood and glass connecting with your transformed flesh in a sickening thud.

"Mph—!" Biting your lip to stifle a scream, you staggered backward. Thick blood dripped from the wound, pooling on the floor and mingling with the cracks in your porcelain-like skin.

"You've got some nerve!" Mimzy's voice thundered as she stood over you, her pale face flushing crimson with anger. "You wanted that fame, and I made it happen. Now you don't?! Fuck! Some ungrateful brat you are! Willing to throw it all away for some man! Do you really think what he feels for you is love?!"

As Mimzy's tirade continued, her words cutting through the haze of pain and anger, a sense of disorientation washed over you. Her words struck a nerve, stirring up memories that you had long tried to suppress.

.

Rain poured down, drenching your hunched form. The world around you blurred into a chaotic whirlwind of colors and shapes, disorienting and suffocating. 

Beneath the fabric of your dress, your knees throbbed painfully, raw from the harsh scrape against unforgiving concrete. Your hands desperately fumbled in the darkness, searching for something to anchor yourself to. Then, finally, your fingertips brushed against the familiar texture of rusting metal.

With a ragged sigh of relief, you realized you had found the gate of your house. Summoning all your remaining strength, you clasped both hands around the cold, wet metal bars and attempted to pull yourself up.

Through the haze, you felt rough hands sneak around your waist, and as your vision cleared slightly, your husband's face emerged from the blur. His once impeccable suit now clung to him like a second skin, soaked through by the downpour. Strands of his usually neat hair stuck to his forehead, dampened and dripping onto his glasses. Cursing like a sailor under his breath, he scooped you up into his arms, expression turning tense as he felt the icy chill of your body against his own.

If you weren't moving he would have thought you a corpse.

"Cher?" Alastor's voice cut through the fog in your mind, but your response was sluggish, your gaze glassy and dilated. "Merde. Did you drag yourself here all alone?"

Without waiting for an answer, he moved, cradling you in his arms as he hurried back toward your house. Once inside, he wasted no time in laying you down on the sofa.

"Al," you finally spoke, whimpering softly as you raised a shaky hand towards him. Alastor immediately moved towards you, hushing your cries as he pressed a deep kiss on your lips.

Your husband moved to cradle your face in his rough hands, and what he saw shattered whatever fragments of his heart were still intact. Bruises and dried blood stained your body, your skin clammy and pale. Streaks of mascara carved paths down your tear-stained face, and your limbs twitched involuntarily. The taste of whiskey still lingered on your lips, and the fearful haze in your eyes mirrored the terror of a rabbit cornered by a wolf.

"Who did this to you?" he growled, his pupils dilating with anger as he knelt before you, gently slipping your torn stockings and muddy heels off your feet.

"Mimzy," you sobbed out, curling into yourself, the weight of it all feeling too heavy on your shoulders.

"I tried to quit. She didn't let me. The bar. She gave me a drink. More and more. I couldn't stop. I was just so upset." Your words were fragmented, broken by the wrenching sobs that shook your fragile form, vulnerability laid bare before him.

"Mon cœur," Alastor hushed, rubbing circles into your ankle with his thumb. "Calm down. Take your time."

You made an effort, though the first few attempts were shallow and rushed. Eventually, you managed to draw in a deep breath, releasing it in a rush before taking another. And another.

"That's it, my dear. Now, what happened?"

Summoning all your strength, you opened your mouth and began to recount the harrowing events of the night.

Earlier this evening, you had mustered up enough courage to hand in your resignation letter to Mimzy. However, her reaction was far from pleasant. An argument erupted, filled with less than savory words being thrown around like daggers.

Before you knew it, Mimzy's rage boiled over, and she tackled you, raining blows upon you with a fury that bordered on madness, beating you with an inch of your life. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.

Her demeanor shifted drastically, morphing from a raging storm into a gentle breeze. With a sickening sweetness, she offered you a hand up, as if nothing had happened. Weak and disoriented, you allowed her to lead you to her private bar, where she poured drink after drink, urging you to indulge.

As per habit, you found yourself consuming the alcohol with reckless abandon, the burning liquid dulling the pain and blurring the edges of reality

Alastor's heart clenched at the anguish in your voice, his expression darkening with a mixture of concern and simmering anger. Slowly, he rose from his seat and lifted you onto his lap, cradling you gently in his arms.

Taking your hand in his, he leaned in close, his voice a soft murmur.

"Let me take care of everything, doll," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "She won't ever bother you again."

The tenderness in his voice caused your breath to hitch, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to fall into the reassurance of his presence. It offered a fleeting sense of security amidst everything surrounding you. Yet, slowly as the puzzles fell into pieces, a gnawing sense of dread clawed at your insides.

"Alastor, no," you whimpered, withdrawing your hands and pressing them against his chest, pushing him away with trembling fingers. "Please don't tell me it means what I think it does."

Your gaze pleaded with him, searching his eyes for any sign of reassurance, any glimmer of hope that what you feared was not true. However, your husband's smile remained unchanged—comforting yet chilling—as he pressed another kiss to the corner of your lips.

"I would kill for you," Alastor murmured against your skin, his thumb tracing the contours of your wedding ring. Bending down, he pressed a tender kiss against the golden band, sealing his vow with the promise of bloodshed, lips lingering against the cool metal. As he drew back, you found yourself ensnared by the intensity of his gaze, pools of brown reflecting a manic fervor.

"Please let me kill for you."

Tears blurred your vision as you bowed your head, the weight of his words sinking deep into your soul. You knew Alastor's devotion knew no bounds. Whether it meant causing pain, shedding blood, or delving into the darkest corners of his being, he would do it for you without a moment's hesitation.

A warmth trickled down your cheeks with each blink, tracing a path along your skin. Your eyes burned fiercely, tears cascading down your flushed cheeks and silently dripping from your chin like dewdrops. As you attempted to draw deep breaths, your body shook with a desperation to escape, though you couldn't quite grasp what it was you were fleeing from.

A ragged sound echoed through the room, grating against your senses. It took you a moment to register that the noise came from your own lungs, your breaths torn and jagged as they struggled to find a rhythm.

"Okay," you whispered, the weight of that single word heavy with the burden of guilt and a future tinged with blood.

There was a soft chuckle, accompanied by the gentle touch of a hand moving to caress your cheeks. "Good girl."

.

Snapping back to the present, you found yourself staring at Mimzy as she raged around the room, her fury unleashed on the surroundings, wrecking anything and everything in her path.

A man who kills for you. A man who dirties his hands for you. Is that not love?

A kick from her sent your vanity toppling over, causing bottles of your perfume and whiskey to crash from its surface. The glass shattered upon impact, releasing splintering sounds that pierced your ears. As the bottles broke, the air filled with the pungent scent of flora, mingling with the rich aroma of spilled whiskey.

It must be love.

With a hand trembling from adrenaline, you ran your fingers through your hair, the sticky feeling of blood staining your palm. Rising unsteadily to your feet, you turned to face Mimzy, strands of damp, bloodied hair falling over your cracked porcelain face.

"You ornery washed-up bitch," you rasped out in a laugh, voice breathless and laced with venom. "I should have left you to rot in that forest."

Mimzy froze, her wide eyes locked on you.

"What did you say to me?" she seethed, her voice trembling with anger as she extended her hand toward the shattered liquor glass and the spilled liquid, her fingers curling into fists.

With a flick of her wrist, the whiskey began to swirl and solidify, forming chains that snaked around your limbs, binding you in place. Your muscles tensed against the restraints as Mimzy manipulated you like a puppeteer. Slowly, you reverted back to your regular form, forced to your knees before her.

The blonde bent down, her grip firm on your face, nails digging deep into your skin as she pulled your head up to face her. "You're here because of me! Everything you've ever achieved was because of me! I made you a star, and this is how you repay me?!"

You recognized the anger in her tone, but beneath it lurked a deeper pain and desperation. The poor gal was fighting to reclaim control over a situation slipping through her grasp.

A sudden knock at the door startled Mimzy, causing her to tense. The door creaked open to reveal the imposing figure of Vox filling the doorway. As he entered the room, a wave of static filled the air, crackling and sending goosebumps cascading over your skin. His gaze swept over the scene, taking note of your restraints and bloodied head before settling on Mimzy.

"What is the meaning of this?" 

Under Vox's gaze, Mimzy's confident demeanor faltered, replaced by a nervous tremor in her voice. "I-I was just… settling some unfinished business, mistah," she stammered, attempting to regain her composure.

"You've just damaged the merchandise, sweetheart," Vox stated matter-of-factly, gesturing to you with a wave of his hand. "And we can't have that, now can we?"

With a casual snap of his fingers, the wires from the stage lights above writhed and twisted, tearing free from the ceiling with a deafening creak. They snaked through the air like serpents, wrapping around Mimzy's torso and dragging her away from you with a forceful yank.

With Mimzy taken care of, Vox then turned his attention to you.

"Dolly, was it?" he smiled, voice disarming. "I've got to say, I have always wanted to see you up close."

"You've seen me," you replied with a cold edge to your voice, slowly backing away and pressing yourself against the wall. "I'm here."

"Charmed," Vox smiled, his gaze heating as he drank you in, every detail of you like candy to his eyes. As Vox strode towards you, you instinctively curled into yourself, shrinking back deeper against the wall. He chuckled softly, noticing your reaction, and halted his advances. Instead, he took a seat on the cushion by your toppled vanity, glowing eyes locked onto you.

Pretty Dolly Heart.

Your lips were painted a vivid red, pouting slightly in a frown. Damp, glossy curls framed your face, shimmering in the light and tempting him to reach out and run his fingers through them. Rivulets of blood marred your temple, staining the delicate white flowers nestled into your hair.

The TV Demon was interested in you, and he wouldn't let go until he went home with you tonight, that much was clear.

"I have a deal in mind," Vox turned to Mimzy with a look in his eyes that screamed trouble. "Are you willing to trade your soul for hers?"

Your blood ran cold with fear.

"As Velvette and I are business partners, our souls contracts are intertwined. I'm sure there would be no issue if you signed the deal with me instead," he added with a chuckle, his eyes swirling with a dangerous allure.

Panic clawed at your insides, urging you to flee from the impending doom that loomed before you. But rooted to the spot by fear, you found yourself unable to move.

"Yes! A-Absolutely!" Mimzy's words shattered the heavy silence, her voice trembling with desperation as she nodded frantically. Her eyes remained nervously glued to the crackling electricity of the torn wires still wrapped around her, the fear in her gaze mirroring your own.

With a clap of his hands, Vox conjured a new contract and a strong burst of wind swept through the room, ruffling curtains and causing objects to tremble on their surfaces. Blue light flooded the walls, casting eerie shadows and filling the room with an ominous glow. The atmosphere crackled with electricity, every hair on your body standing on end as if charged with static energy.

A tablet materialized and floated before you, its screen pulsing with a faint, golden glow.

"Make her sign here, and it'll be done," Vox instructed, his voice carrying an air of finality as he handed Mimzy a stylus, tapping his clawed finger along the screen of his tablet.

With a trembling hand, Mimzy took the stylus and held it out for you, the strings of her magic wrapping around your limbs once again. You attempted to shout out, but Mimzy's magic stitched your lips shut, leaving you unable to utter a sound.

Helpless, you watched as your hand was forced to reach out and take the pen into your grasp, your fingers moving against your will as Mimzy guided them to sign the contract. With each stroke of the pen, a wave of despair washed over you, a muffled sob bubbling from your throat as your name appeared on the screen, sealing your fate.

Vox's grin widened, a glint of triumph dancing in his eyes as he held up your old paper contract with Mimzy, the words now rendered meaningless. With a swift motion, he tore it to shreds, the sound of paper ripping echoing through the tense silence of the room.

"Welcome to VoxTek, Dolly."

[faebled-stories]

Max Level: Pleasure Unlocked

Le Sserafim's Miyawaki Sakura x Male reader

AN: So... I may have been a tiny bit late to class today 😅. Why, you ask? Well... I was up all night re-watching Marry My Husband (totally worth it, btw). Anyway, fast forward to class, and I casually checked my phone, and—wait for it—WHAT?! Almost 300 likes for Ms. Kim Chaewon?! You guys are seriously amazing! 💖 This story was supposed to drop tomorrow, but because I love you all so much... here’s a little treat! 😘✨

P.S. Why is this lecture soooo long? Send help! 😂

Miyawaki Sakura, the eldest member of Le Sserafim, had found a new thrill—one that didn’t involve the stage lights or concert crowds. Live streaming had pulled her into its vibrant, fast-paced world of colorful pixels and instant connection. It wasn’t just a hobby anymore; it became her escape—a digital realm where she could unwind and be herself. Streaming offered her a space where she could share her love for video games in the most authentic way possible. Her laughter would echo through the headset, filling the room with the joy she found in navigating complex game worlds and strategizing with her audience. It was a welcome reprieve from the pressures of K-pop stardom, a place where she could exist without expectation.

But as Sakura’s love for streaming grew, so did the distance between her and Y/N. Y/N cherished their quiet evenings together—the ones filled with soft conversations, playful glances, and the warmth of shared intimacy. Now, those moments seemed to slip away, replaced by the blue glow of Sakura's monitor and the sounds of gaming filling the room. He found himself feeling increasingly sidelined, the comforting presence of his girlfriend diluted by the endless stream of fan interactions and in-game distractions. Every evening, as he sat in their apartment watching her stream, Y/N felt like a shadow in her life, forgotten behind the glow of her screen.

The silence after Sakura's gaming sessions hung in the air, heavy and unfamiliar, a stark contrast to the laughter that used to fill their nights. He would lie in bed, staring at the empty space beside him, wondering when their quiet, intimate nights had been swapped for late-night streams. The late-night absence became more palpable, the connection they once shared now buried beneath layers of bright pixels and fan interactions.

Frustrated and unsure of how to bridge the growing gap between them, Y/N turned to the one person who knew both of them best—Kwon Eunbi, Sakura's former leader and the matchmaker who had brought them together in the first place. Eunbi, always the voice of reason and support, listened with a thoughtful expression as Y/N poured out his concerns.

"I just don't know how to get her attention anymore," Y/N confessed, his voice tinged with frustration. "She used to light up when we were together, but now it feels like I'm competing with a screen."

Eunbi, ever the sage, leaned in with a twinkle in her eye, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Well, my dear, sometimes you just need to remind her of what she's missing," she said, her tone playful yet reassuring. "There's this little shop downtown. They have... items that might help reignite that spark you're worried about. A little mystery, a little surprise—that's the key."

Y/N blushed at the suggestion, but the idea intrigued him. Maybe Eunbi was right—maybe a little spontaneity was exactly what their relationship needed. "Okay noona," Y/N said with newfound determination. "Take me there. I'll do whatever it takes."

Eunbi grinned. "That's the spirit. Trust me, after this, she'll be more than eager to spend some time away from that screen, and if it doesn't work out... you have my number" the older girl winked before giving a slightly playful slap to Y/N’s behind

As soon as Eunbi led him into the little adult shop tucked away in a quiet side street downtown, Y/N’s nerves melted into curiosity. The shop was intimate, lined with rows of items that promised to stoke passion and bring lovers closer. Eunbi was more than willing to offer her guidance, clearly enjoying herself as she pointed out various products.

"Trust me," Eunbi had said with a wink, picking up a small bullet vibrator from one of the shelves. "This one is discreet but packs a punch, It's perfect for getting things started. She won’t see it coming." Y/N’s cheeks had flushed at the thought, but the image of Sakura’s surprised reaction made her smile. It was perfect for catching his girlfriend off guard.

As they continued browsing, Y/N’s eyes landed on a sleek, curved G-spot vibrating dildo that promised deeper, more intense sensations. He couldn’t help but imagine how Sakura might respond to its use—what that extra thrill might do to rekindle the heat between them. Eunbi happily skips over to Y/N with a box that he hasn't seen before, a rabbit ear vibrator "Y/N you have to get this, I’m telling you Sakura will melt and turn to putty in your hands, I have one myself and it's pretty amazing." Y/N looked at his noona with a skeptical look. Why is she so into this, is his precious noona actually not as innocent as she portrayed to the public?

Thinking about her words he can't deny that the idea of being the one to control Sakura’s pleasure sent a surge of excitement through him. He added it to his growing selection of items.

The final addition was a delicate set of pastel pink lingerie. His girlfriend's favorite color. lace-lined and revealing, something that he knew she would love, he remembered her saying she wanted something similar to this but was always ashamed and embarrassed to buy it

Y/N picked up the set knowing how much it would make his lover feel even sexier. He could already imagine the fabric clinging to his girlfriend's skin, the look in Sakura’s eyes when she sees it. There was no doubt that tonight, he would make sure all of Sakura’s attention was focused on him.

As the duo went to the counter the current cashier was about to take a break and out comes his replacement, someone who Y/N would not have expected to work here.

"Oh Eunbi unnie welcome back Oh! and Y/N oppa, what are you doing here?" the duck looking girl squealed. To say Y/N was shocked is an understatement. His girlfriend's former members, his friends, were all so familiar with this place.

"I was showing Y/N around the store, he needed my help" Responded the eldest. "Oppa is Sakura unnie giving you a hard time?" Yena responded, causing Y/N to shrink into himself in embarrassment. 

The girl started scanning the products one by one, her curious eyes glanced back and forth from y/n and each product he bought. "I didn't think Sakura unnie would be into this, I guess she's less of a prude than I thought" At this point Y/N just wanted to leave, he slightly hid behind his noona as she started placing her own products she wanted to buy. 

"I’ll pay for it Y/N I get a discount here, just pay me back after" Y/N nodded before Eunbi tapped her card and they both left with Yena waving to them, saying that they should visit her again.

With his purchases in hand, Y/N left the shop feeling embarrassed about the whole situation but he thought about the end goal and it made him feel more confident than ever. This was his chance to break through the monotony that had settled between them.

Later that evening, back in their shared apartment, Sakura was already in the midst of her nightly streaming routine. Her set up was in the living room, per Y/N's request after waking him up way too many times. It was bathed in the soft glow of the monitor, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across her face as she engaged with her audience. Y/N, his heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement, watched from the shadows, clutching the items he had bought earlier.

He knew exactly what to do.

Grabbing a piece of paper, Y/N quickly scribbled a note and held it up just out of view of the camera, flashing it at Sakura with a grin. The note read: "Since you're so into games, let's play one right now, this will be level one, don't make anything obvious, good luck."

Sakura blinked in confusion at first, her head tilting as she tried to make sense of the message. But when she looked up at Y/N’s playful expression a delicate smile spread across his lips, a knowing look in his eyes. Sakura then glanced down at her stream, her posture adjusting as if nothing had changed, she quickly muted her mic. “ Not now Y/N, I'm busy.” before turning it back on and saying her mic was glitching. But Y/N had spent too long planning this out, spent too much money to turn back now. 

Satisfied with the confusion, Y/N smiled back. The game was on.

Without another word, Y/N crouched and began crawling under the desk. Since her desk was longer than any normal person would normally have, It made the access to the prize easy for him as he just needed to go from the side, his movements smooth and deliberate, hidden from the camera’s view. Sakura’s attention was still on the screen, her voice cheerful as she interacted with her viewers, but Y/N knew it wouldn’t be long before his girlfriend’s focus would shift entirely. Beneath the desk, Y/N felt a rush of excitement as he prepared to introduce a new level of spontaneity into Sakura’s night.

The note had been the first step—a secret shared between them, a playful challenge that only the two of them would understand. What happened next was up to Y/N, and he was ready to make it unforgettable.

Y/N smirked as he slowly slid the small bullet vibrator out of its box, he wiped it with a wet wipe before lifting up the pink short skirt in front of him, He brought the toy up and pressed it against Sakura's panty-covered mound, watching with delight as the Japanese girl jolted slightly in her seat. Sakura tried her best to maintain focus on the video game, determinedly gripping her mouse and keyboard as she attempted to hide her reactions to the subtle vibrations. But Y/N could see right through her act - the way Sakura's thighs clenched together, the slight flush creeping across her cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickened.

To save face Sakura quickly slapped Y/N’s hand away from her wet pussy but Y/n quickly placed it back to its home.

The little vibrator buzzed away, its vibrations transmitted through the thin fabric barrier. Y/N could feel the heat radiating off of Sakura's core, could sense her wetness growing with each passing second. Sakura squirmed almost imperceptibly, fighting the urge to spread her legs further.

Sakura's game character died with a pitiful electronic squeal, breaking the spell. She blinked hard a few times, trying to regain her composure as she struggled to stay focused on the screen. Y/N chuckled quietly, pulling the vibrator away.

Rising up from his spot on the floor under the desk, Y/N made sure that he was holding eye contact with Sakura the whole way. Sakura's eyes widened as Y/N made a show of slowly swiping his fingers on the toy before rubbing them together and slowly pulling them apart a slick line of the idols juices were connecting Y/Ns fingers showing her that even though she's against it, her body doesn't lie. Y/N’s fingers were brought to his lips, eye contact still not breaking and in an exaggerated motion he licked her fingers clean. Sakura quickly glanced away, her face burning crimson now, but she couldn't keep her eyes from peeking back at Y/N. A shaky exhale escaped her lips.

Y/N just winked before reaching for a piece of paper that read Level 2 commencing before crawling back to her side of the desk, leaving Sakura even more flustered and distracted, though trying her best to play it cool. Y/N made a mental note - Sakura was even more responsive than expected. This was going to be fun indeed...

The next level involved the G-spot vibrating dildo, escalating the intensity. There was only one small thing blocking his way, deciding to deal with it he wrapped his fingers around her panties before giving it a quick and powerful tug completely ripping them. The sound loud enough to catch Sakura off guard. Shocked, the idol’s hand instinctively reached down, her fingertips brushing her now bare, wet pussy. She inhaled sharply, her body reacting to the sudden exposure, but she didn’t dare glance away from the screen.

Y/N teased her relentlessly, his fingers circling her entrance before finally pushing the toy into her slick cunt. He moved it slowly at first, letting her adjust to the sensation, feeling her muscles tighten around the intrusion. Sakura’s hand gripped her mouse tighter, her knuckles whitening as she fought to keep her composure. She nearly missed a key on her keyboard, her body betraying her as Y/N expertly played with her, pulling the toy out just as she neared the edge of release.

Her breath came in shallow, uneven pants. The subtle strain in her voice didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N, who watched with a smirk, knowing just how close she was to losing control. Yet, he denied her the satisfaction of climax, bringing her to the edge again and again only to retreat, leaving her desperate and aching.

“Fuck,” Sakura muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible as she tried to focus on her stream. Her viewers, blissfully unaware of the torment unfolding beneath her desk, cheered her on in the game, oblivious to the real game being played just out of sight.

Y/N pulled the toy away once more, but this time, Sakura couldn't hold back her frustration. "Ahh, what the fuck" she whispered harshly, trying to control her reaction. She couldn’t look down to see what he was doing, not without giving herself away on camera. She tried to push through the absence, hoping Y/N would relent, but the moment stretched on.

And then, without warning, Y/N switched the vibrations onto its highest setting and plunged it back into her, the thick dildo buried deep inside her clenching cunt, the toy felt around and lived up to its name, pressing on that spot she loved.

"AHHHH!" Sakura’s cry pierced the quiet of the room, her pussy convulsing around the toy as an intense orgasm overtook her. She barely had time to mute her mic, her thighs trembling and squeezing together, her stomach contracting as wave after wave of electric pleasure crashed over her. Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation

Her game character spun wildly on screen, her mouse jerking out of control as her body seized up. Her viewers, concerned but unsuspecting, quickly flooded the chat with messages.

"Are you okay? What happened?" one asked.

"You just screamed like you saw a ghost, lol," commented another, oblivious to the real reason behind her outburst.

Sakura’s cheeks burned with humiliation. They had heard her, but thankfully they couldn’t know the truth—how their sweet, innocent idol was secretly being driven to the brink of madness by her boyfriend under the desk. With a shaky breath, she forced a laugh. "Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I thought I saw a bug under the desk," she lied, her voice higher than usual, the embarrassment clear. "You know how I get when it comes to bugs!"

Her viewers, still clueless, accepted the explanation, laughing along with her as they playfully scolded her for getting so worked up over something so trivial. But Sakura’s mind was far from the stream now. The aftershocks of her orgasm still rippled through her, and she bit her lip hard, willing her body to calm down. The irony wasn’t lost on her—here she was, playing the role of their wholesome crush while secretly being ravaged by Y/N just out of sight.

Satisfied for the moment, Y/N leaned in and gave her sensitive pussy a slow, teasing lick, sending another shiver through her body. Her thighs trembled, clenching around his head as his tongue worked its magic. She didn’t want to admit how much she missed this—missed him—but the pleasure coursing through her veins made it impossible to deny. He left a final lingering kiss against her soaked lips before pulling away, leaving her panting and desperate for more.

As Y/N stood, he reached for the final toy in his collection, pulling the rabbit-ear vibrator from his bag. His fingers traced the packaging—Rabbit Ear Toy: Maximum Clitoral Stimulation—and a grin spread across his face. The playful sparkle in his eyes revealed his mischievous intent, recalling how Eunbi had enthusiastically recommended this particular device. With a small chuckle, he knew this would be the perfect grand finale to their secret, unspoken game.

Y/N scribbled a quick note—Level three, good luck—and slid it over to Sakura. Her gaze flicked to him, and their eyes met briefly. A silent exchange of both anticipation and trepidation passed between them. The tension hung thick in the air, a blend of excitement and nerves that only heightened the moment. Sakura’s cheeks flushed as her fingers hovered over the keyboard, pretending to remain focused on the game, but her attention was split, knowing what was coming next.

As Y/N shifted back into his familiar spot under the desk, his breath hitched in anticipation. It had become his little domain, a place where he could send Sakura into oblivion without her viewers being any the wiser. He carefully unwrapped the vibrator—an egg-shaped toy, compact but powerful. The soft, flexible rabbit ears promised an intensity that could tip her over the edge with just the right pressure. His hands, steady and deliberate, moved between her legs, teasing her for a moment. The toy slipped between her folds, refusing to cooperate at first, but Y/N’s persistence paid off. He finally nestled it perfectly in place, the rabbit ears snugly embracing her clit.

For a second, he paused. The anticipation in the room grew thick as Sakura shifted in her chair, her breaths shallow. The tension between them felt electric. Y/N knew what this small delay would do to her—he was prolonging the inevitable, letting her body crave the release that was just out of reach. Then, with a press of the button, the vibrator buzzed to life.

The effect was immediate. A surge of pleasure ripped through Sakura’s body, her muscles tensing as the toy began its relentless rhythm. She bit down hard on her lower lip, trying desperately not to give herself away. The overwhelming sensation sent waves of heat cascading from her core, and her hands trembled as they hovered over her mouse and keyboard, trying to maintain some semblance of control. Her breath came in short, shallow bursts, her body writhing ever so slightly, desperate to remain still for the camera.

Her chat lit up with messages of encouragement. Her viewers had no clue the real battle she was fighting—the one between maintaining her composure and succumbing to the pleasure that was quickly unraveling her. The boss fight on screen grew more intense, each phase of the battle requiring her utmost focus, but her concentration wavered with every flick of the vibrator against her clit. It was nearly impossible to think, let alone execute precise game mechanics, as the rabbit ears worked her over with merciless efficiency.

Sakura whispered to herself, “Y-You’ve got this, Sakura!” Her voice was strained, too high-pitched to mask her struggle, but she plastered on a wide smile for her audience. Her hands shook violently now as they moved across the keyboard, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of the game. Her pulse raced in sync with the toy, the pleasure mounting to unbearable levels.

The boss’s health bar ticked down in sync with her endurance, her every keystroke becoming sloppier, more frantic. As the final blow landed and the boss collapsed in defeat, Sakura could no longer hold back. Her body convulsed as the climax hit her like a tidal wave. A guttural shout escaped her lips as she slammed her hands down on the desk, her voice cracking with a blend of triumph and carnal release.

“YESSSS!!” she screamed, her eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving with the force of the orgasm that ripped through her. Her muscles clenched, and her toes curled as the vibrator continued its assault, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure until she was utterly spent.

Her viewers erupted into cheers, congratulating her on the hard-earned victory. Oblivious to the real reason behind her breathlessness and the flush on her face, they celebrated her skill and persistence. The screen flashed with messages of admiration, and Sakura forced herself to sit up, her body trembling with the aftershocks.

“Whew… that was intense!” she gasped, wiping away the sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her hand reached for her water glass, her fingers still trembling slightly as she took a long, much-needed drink. “Thanks for cheering me on, guys,” she added with a weak laugh, masking the exhaustion coursing through her.

As Sakura leaned back in her chair, Scrolling through other games to hopefully find a good one to end the night, Y/N, who had been patiently watching her recovery, wasn’t quite done yet. A devilish grin played on his lips as he leaned forward, his finger hovering over the vibrator’s controls. Without warning, he cranked the toy up to its highest setting.

The sudden jolt of the vibrator sent Sakura reeling. Her body stiffened, eyes widening in shock as the intensity of the stimulation threatened to unravel her all over again. Her breath hitched in her throat as her muscles tensed, gripping the arms of her chair to ground herself. Y/N’s laughter echoed softly from beneath the desk, watching her fight the new wave of pleasure with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction.

Sakura, the ever-composed streamer, found herself on the precipice of a new kind of experience. The powerful vibrations of the new toy sent shivers through her body, a primal force that ignited a wildfire of anticipation within her. Her body responded with a raw, undeniable intensity, the moisture building until it seeped through her folds, dripping off the chair and leaving a glistening trail on the floor. The sweet scent of candles that once permeated the room was quickly overtaken by the pungent aroma of her arousal, a testament to the burgeoning passion that consumed her.

As the pleasure reached its crescendo, a surge of instinct took over. With lightning-fast reflexes, Sakura muted her microphone and switched off her camera, craving the sanctuary of privacy for the intimate storm that was about to break. The online world faded away, and she surrendered completely to the throes of ecstasy.

The timing was impeccable. As Sakura neared her peak, Y/N, her boyfriend, seized the moment. He seamlessly combined the pleasure of the vibrator with the intimacy of his mouth, diving forward with a ravenous hunger. His tongue explored the depths of her, savoring her taste and fueling the fire that burned within her. Each flick and swirl of his tongue sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through her body, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

The combined sensations were too much for her to bear, and with an animalistic moan escaped Sakura's lips, a guttural sound intertwined with a scream that seemed to rise from the very core of her being. "UGH FUCK YEEESSSS Y/N!" Her voice was a raw expression of unrestrained pleasure. She grasped his hair, her body convulsing in a wave of ecstasy. Her legs lifted and wrapped around him pulling his face impossibly close to her core, her muscles contracting and relaxing with each tremor, the old gaming chair squeaking in protest with every movement. Her cheeks flushed a vibrant hue, a visible marker of her heightened state as she rode the wave of her orgasm with unbridled abandon, her breasts heaving with each ragged breath. Sakura climaxed with a force that left her breathless and trembling. Y/N continued his ministrations, prolonging her orgasm until she felt every ounce of pleasure.

For Y/N, the experience was both exhilarating and intensely intimate. He couldn't see anything; his vision was blocked by Sakura's body. Each subtle movement sent shivers down his spine—her soft skin felt warm and alive against him, her thighs encasing his head in a passionate vice that was as constricting as it was pleasurable. it was just the two of them, enveloped in a cocoon of heat and desire.

This was a Sakura he rarely saw, one that lay hidden behind the carefully curated persona of her online streams. In those moments, she had shed the facade of the cheerful, bubbly entertainer and revealed a side of herself that was raw and unfiltered. It was the Sakura from before her streaming career, the girl who had always been playful and spontaneous, exuding an authentic vulnerability that left him breathless. Her laughter echoed in the confines of his mind as he realized how seldom he’d had the chance to witness this intimate version of her.

The chaos of streaming and the demands of her audience faded into the background, replaced by a potent chemistry that crackled between them. His own heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drum echoing the urgency of the moment, while his breath hitched at the raw display of passion and surrender before him. Every heartbeat was a reminder of how deeply and irrevocably he craved this connection.

This moment carved a permanent mark on him, etching itself into his memory like a secret tattoo. It was a reminder of the beautiful, complex dynamics that fueled their relationship—beyond the streaming lights and scripted interactions lay a blend of affection, longing, and a hint of danger. Their souls intertwined in this rare instance, revealing as much about their hearts as it did about their desires. The very essence of their bond lay anchored in these fleeting but fervent exchanges, making each encounter a treasure and a risk he was willing to embrace.

Sakura's breath came in ragged gasps as she slowly released her hold on Y/N, her legs trembling, weak from the intense stimulation. The room seemed to amplify all her senses, the cooling sensation of sweat mingling with her skin a stark contrast to the recent heat. Her legs, barely able to support her, struggled to find their footing as she fought to regain her composure. The assistant to her pleasure, the formidable toy that had helped push her to the edge of chaotic bliss, lay on the floor, a glistening reminder of the storm that had just passed. Its surface, coated in her essence, served as a tangible testament to her unleashed passion.

Realizing that her momentary loss of control had severed her connection with her viewers, Sakura quickly attempted to regain her composure. Her cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. But before she could complete the act of resuming, Y/N’s steady hand came to rest against her thigh, gently halting her fidgeting. Kneeling between her legs, his tall frame allowing him to almost come face to face with her, their eyes meeting in a moment that felt both electric and profoundly intimate.

Sakura's mind swirled with a haze of emotions, a flicker of melancholy washing over her like a soft tide. She missed these moments—the brief interludes where they could shed their roles and embrace a deeper connection, where laughter and genuine emotion melded seamlessly into something more. Each stolen glance, every shared laugh had been a thread weaving them closer, and yet, amidst the chaos of their lives, she felt those threads fraying, slipping through her fingers like grains of sand.

In that heavy silence, Y/N reached for her, his fingers warm as they gently cupped the back of her head. There was no need for words; his eyes spoke volumes, conveying understanding and longing in a single gaze. Then, with a tenderness that sent shivers down her spine, he leaned in and sealed their lips together in a passionate kiss. The flavors of her arousal mingled with saliva—a delicious, intoxicating symphony that danced on their tongues, each movement igniting a fire deep within her core.

Sakura was momentarily consumed by the warmth of his embrace, every worry dissolving into the sweet elixir of their connection. But as the kiss lingered, her heart raced at the thought of what lay beyond this moment. Still lost in the afterglow, Sakura whimpered softly when Y/N finally pulled away, his lips brushing against hers gently as they parted. His gaze held her captive, a silent promise lingering in the space between them, but it only deepened her desire, leaving her craving more.

This was the testament to their bond—a connection that blossomed amidst the chaos of her storm, a lingering whisper of hope amid uncertainty. She knew she couldn’t let this slip through her fingers again, not when they had ventured into a territory that felt so beautifully raw and undeniably real.

But as the seasoned entertainer she was, she corrected her streaming gadget, turning her webcam back on and adjusting her microphone. Her face, still flushed from her recent exertion and her lips swollen, was now contorted into an apologetic smile as she addressed her audience, hiding the true reason behind her sudden departure by blaming it on unpredictable internet issues.

"Sorry about that, guys," she panted, her voice slightly uneven with the remnants of her peak. "We had a little technical glitch," she continued, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous hint that was not quite caught by her virtual audience.

The chat, a flurry of messages, was filled with questions and mild irritation. Her viewers were curious, their previous excitement now shifted to suspicion and a growing sense of doubt . They wondered what had caused such a sudden disruption. Yet, despite their curiosity, they respected her privacy, unwilling to push for explanations that she was not willing to give until she was ready. In their minds, the truth of her interruptions could often be their most decadent fantasies, creating an air of mystique and allure around her that kept them coming back for more. Sakura, a master of her craft, knew how to keep her audience hooked, turning even a glitch into a potential performance enhancement, as her viewers' imaginations filled in the blanks left by their sudden disconnection.

Y/N, with an air of mystery swirling about him, gracefully emerged from under the desk, his presence suddenly filling the room with an electric energy. As if appearing from the shadows, he moved with a fluidity that captivated Sakura, drawing her gaze irresistibly. From his vantage point behind the monitor, Y/N's eyes met Sakura's, a hint of mischief dancing in their depths.

His movements were deliberate, with a rhythm that matched the beating of Sakura's heart, as if he were conducting an intimate dance where only the two of them could hear the music. The fact that he planned this whole thing gave Sakura a warm feeling. The remnants of their shared passion became a declaration of love, a promise of intimacy, and a reaffirmation of their bond.

Satisfied with his thorough work, Y/N offered Sakura a look, his eyes darting back and forth from Sakura and a bag that was placed just to the side. A secretive smile playing upon his lips. It was a silent challenge, an invitation for Sakura to join him in their next adventure. Turning away, he walked calmly towards the bedroom.

As he cleaned the toys and meticulously arranged them in their new resting place, the nightstand, Y/N took the time to appreciate the small details of their shared space. The nightstand, once merely a piece of furniture with no purpose, now held a whole new meaning, a symbol of their intimate connection.

Sakura remained seated, her breath catching in her throat as Y/N disappeared into the shadows of the bedroom. The atmosphere lingered with a charged energy, the room still humming from the intensity of their shared moment. Sakura’s mind raced, replaying the image of Y/N’s mischievous smile, his teasing, deliberate movements, and the unspoken promise that hung in the air like a secret waiting to be unraveled.

For a moment, Sakura sat frozen, the temptation pulling her forward. She felt a surge of warmth radiate through her, a tug towards the bedroom where Y/N awaited, his presence as enticing as ever. The weight of their connection, unspoken but deeply understood, anchored her as she ended the stream and rose from her seat.

Sakura’s eyes fell to the bag on the floor, under the coffee table, its presence both familiar and intriguing. She had seen Y/n walk in with it  earlier but hadn’t given it much thought in the midst of her stream. Now, as the evening light dimmed into twilight and the apartment grew quieter, curiosity took over. Slowly, she bent down, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric of the bag as she picked it up. It was a simple gesture, yet it sent a ripple of anticipation through her. 

Peeling back the wrapping, her breath caught when her eyes landed on the contents. A stunning set of lingerie lay folded neatly inside, the color immediately striking her—her favorite color. The rich, silky fabric shimmered slightly in the low light, delicate lace tracing intricate patterns along its edges. She lifted it out of the bag, feeling the cool smoothness of the material slip between her fingers. The fabric felt luxurious, softer than she imagined, and as she held it up, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Y/N had remembered.

In the whirlwind of their lives, it wasn’t often that someone paid attention to the small details, but Y/N always had a way of doing just that. Not just any lingerie, but a set that spoke to her tastes, a color that made her feel powerful, beautiful, sexy. The care and thoughtfulness behind it warmed her from the inside, the kind of warmth that settled deep, in the quiet places of the heart.

Sakura didn't waste time, a surge of excitement bubbling up inside her. Without even heading to the bathroom, she began to undress right there in the middle of the living room. Her body was sore, every muscle aching from the games “levels”, but the thrill of the moment outweighed the discomfort. She moved slowly, peeling away the layers of her clothing, and as each piece fell to the floor, she felt lighter. Her breath hitched when the cool air of the room brushed against her bare skin.

Pulling the lingerie up over her legs, she marveled at how perfectly it fit, as if it had been crafted just for her. The lace clung to her curves in all the right places, accentuating her figure in a way that made her feel both strong and undeniably feminine. She caught a glimpse of herself in the nearby mirror and paused for a moment. The reflection staring back at her was striking—she looked lovely and powerful. The fatigue that had settled into her bones seemed to dissipate, replaced by an invigorating energy, one that thrummed beneath her skin like a quiet storm ready to break.

Her gaze shifted from the mirror to the slightly ajar bedroom door, and that’s when she felt it. The pull. It was almost magnetic, an invisible force drawing her toward Y/N. There had always been something between them ever since they met, something more than words or physical attraction. It was an unspoken connection, a shared intimacy that went beyond the surface of things. Y/N had a way of turning even the smallest gestures into something profound. A simple gift of lingerie wasn’t just a gift; it was a conversation, an invitation, a reminder of the bond they shared.

Sakura’s heart raced as she stood at the threshold of the bedroom, her hand resting lightly on the doorframe. From where she stood, she could see Y/N’s silhouette bathed in the soft, golden glow of the bedside lamp. The room itself was dim, quiet, filled with the gentle hum of the night outside. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, focused. There was a look in his gaze—one that she knew well. Mischief, affection, desire, all wrapped into one.

Her breath caught again, but this time it wasn’t the cold air or the tightness of the lingerie. It was the way Y/N looked at her. As if she were the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment. As if the night was theirs and theirs alone.

Without breaking eye contact, Sakura stepped inside the room, her bare feet soundless against the wooden floor. The door clicked shut behind her, the soft sound echoing in the quiet. It was as if the outside world ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them in the cocoon of their own making. The air between them was thick with anticipation, with the unspoken promise of what was to come.

Y/N didn’t move, didn’t say a word. His gaze traveled over her slowly, taking in the sight of her standing before him in the delicate lace and silk he had chosen. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small, appreciative smile, but there was something deeper in his eyes—a smoldering intensity that made her heart skip a beat.

She moved closer, the space between them shrinking with every step. Her own breathing had become shallow, her pulse quickening in response to the heat building between them. It wasn’t just about the physical desire; it was the emotional weight of everything they had shared, everything they had been through together, all condensed into this one, intimate moment.

Sakura reached the edge of the bed, standing just before him, her body illuminated by the soft, golden light. Y/N reached out, his hand gently grazing her thigh, his fingers brushing over the delicate lace. His touch was light, teasing, sending a shiver up her spine. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation, the feeling of his skin against hers.

He had given her so much today, endless pleasures each one more intense than the last. But now, as she stood before him, she knew the time had come, it was his turn. She smiled, slow and teasing, as her fingers toyed with the straps of the lingerie. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear, her voice a soft whisper filled with promise.

"You’ve given me so many gifts today baby. Now it’s your turn to unwrap your present." 

She gave him multiple kisses from his neck to his cheek, ending with a needy one on his lips.

“Since you're so into games, let's play one right now,” her words mimicking those that started this whole thing.

The night had just begun, filled with endless possibilities Sakura's situation mirrored her favorite games. She had failed multiple times but knew that this was a fresh start, an extra life, With a smile she positioned herself face to face with his crotch and pulled down Y/N's pants exposing his member, she gave the tip a quick kiss and lick, before reminding him that singing was not the only thing her mouth was used for.

Miyawaki Sakura was back on level one.

[benjinotes]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐲 - jacaerys velaryon

jacaerys velaryon x fem reader

summary: a clumsy encounter causes you to swap backpacks with jace.

warnings: too much fluff. curse words. modern au. cregan is the wing man. (he’s 18). loser jace (kinda?).

wc: +4K, english is not my first language.

Rain poured almost violently over Jacaerys’ face, streaming through his already damp curls as he moved with heavy, quick steps across the crowded high school parking lot, rushing toward the entrance.

As he entered the main hallway, he was enveloped by a mix of disconcerting sounds—broken conversations, scattered laughter, and low murmurs—mixed with the distant echo of thunder that rumbled loudly outside. The bad weather made the halls seem even more crowded than usual.

The dampness he had picked up from the bad weather seeped into his clothes, gradually heightening his irritation, which already felt nearly extreme. He felt as though everything was against him that morning and struggled to keep his mind from drifting to the day's disasters, especially the tantrum Joffrey had thrown at the kindergarten door.

He could barely remember the last time something like this had happened, which made the situation even more unbearable. His anxiety, usually under control, seemed to spread throughout his body, causing his muscles to tense anxiously beneath his damp sweater.

Adjusting the strap of his soaked backpack on his shoulder, Jace felt his heart beating with a force that, though small, seemed disproportionate for the start of a typical day. Glancing at the small clock on the hallway wall and seeing that he still had fifteen minutes before his first class began, he let out a sigh of relief, realizing that not everything was lost, though his body remained slightly tense.

However, when he turned and saw some of his classmates carefully carrying their science projects, his stomach dropped. His eyes widened as he realized that his own model was still in his father’s office, in the gym building on the other side of the school, forgotten amidst the morning's chaos, with today being the final deadline.

The brief relief he had felt moments earlier was quickly replaced by a wave of panic and anxiety. Jace’s heart, which had just started to settle, began pounding again with renewed intensity. Once more, he felt his feet hit the ground heavily as he braced himself to face the rain outside again.

He could feel the judging and confused stares of the students filling the hallways as he ran. Yet, he paid them no mind as he sped towards the door on the other side of the corridor, picking up the pace as the heavy raindrops were heating his face once again. This time, he couldn’t help but mutter a curse under his breath for forgetting his umbrella.

He was certain that his mom would give him a lecture about it as soon as she found out.

As Jace dashed out of the main building, he quickened his pace despite the rain drenching him. Instead of being distracted by the storm, his anxiety grew as he worried about getting even dirtier from the rainwater and how his glasses were now smeared and obscured by the droplets.

Upon finally arriving at the school gym, tired from the frantic running, he approached the main door with quick and urgent steps, trying to turn the handle with force due to the rush caused by the delay, and to make his growing irritation worse, the door was locked, and upon discovering this, frustration overwhelmed him. In a moment of anger, he kicked the door in irritation, pulled off his glasses, and threw his black backpack on the floor in a frustrated and frantic gesture.

That day was going poorly, and Jacaerys was certain he was going to miss his first class.

“Really? Are you that upset with the poor door?” Your voice, tinged with sarcasm, startled him, making him flinch and jump slightly at the unexpected sound. With his face flushed, he hesitated, too embarrassed to meet your gaze due to his earlier outburst and the noise he’d made that clearly drew your attention.

Jace’s breath caught in his throat as he turned towards the source of the voice, wiping his fogged-up glasses with a trembling hand. Standing a few feet away, you watched him with an arched eyebrow and a small smile playing at your lips. He couldn’t help but notice how comfortable you seemed.

However, what made him look at you with a confused and slightly alarmed expression was the fact that you didn’t seem to care about the rain at all, appearing unusually confident with your umbrella that seemed too flimsy to withstand such a downpour.

"I’m sorry," Jace said, forcing a smile as he put his now-clean glasses back on, trying to mask his embarrassment and confusion. "I didn’t realize anyone was here." He admitted, clearing his throat awkwardly and avoiding your gaze, which seemed to track his every move.

You gave a sweet laugh that made Jacaerys swallow hard. He watched as your lips parted with each burst of laughter, the sound growing louder and more charming. For some reason, he found himself unexpectedly drawn to it, liking it more than he expected.

"I noticed," you said with a small, apologetic smile. You then reached into your black backpack and absentmindedly set it near the edge of his. He raised his eyebrows in confusion. "It's my turn to open the door today. Sorry if I took a bit longer," you murmured, giving a slightly embarrassed smile as you watched him blink slowly, clearly surprised by your words.

Jace looked at you with an understanding, even slightly soft expression, while mentally scolding himself. He knew that if anyone else had been late on that disastrous morning, he would have likely lost his temper over their mistake and irresponsibility. However, with you, he simply cleared his throat and brushed off the issue with a casual gesture, as if he couldn’t bring himself to be mad at you. He wanted to slap himself.

“It's okay,” he said, pulling away slightly as the rain fell on his wet back, realizing he had stuttered, and quickly regaining his composure once he saw your mocking look. “At least you showed up,” he added with a dry laugh, internally cursing himself when he noticed your change in expression. He really wanted to slap himself.

Jace hesitated, ready to say something, but you just shrugged and quickly started opening the gym door. He felt a small sense of relief, though guilt still lingered for rushing you. He watched you with a conflicted mix of gratitude and discomfort, unable to shake the feeling that he had been too hasty.

“What are you looking for in there anyway?" You asked with curiosity, holding the door open and stepping aside to let him pass. He offered a quick “thank you” before walking through.

“My science project,” Jace said, and you looked at him, confused, wondering why his project was in the gym of all places. “It’s in my father’s office,” he explained, trying to hold back a laugh as he saw your astonished expression.

“So you’re Coach Strong’s son?” you asked. He nodded and headed toward his father’s office, with you following closely behind. He seemed to enjoy your interest, and for a moment, he was so caught up with you that he almost forgot he was running late.

“So, do you know my father?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder as he pushed open the office door and stepped inside, slightly surprised to be talking so comfortably with a stranger.

You let out a light laugh as you watched him carefully pick up his science project, and you couldn’t help but blush when he flashed you a shy, awkward smile.

He was too cute to be true.

You shook your head. “He coached my team when Coach Erryk got sick,” you explained playing with your hair, catching his curiosity as he approached the door. “I’m on the swimming team,” you added for clarity. He nodded, closing the door while glancing at you from the corner of his eye. He mentally chided himself when his gaze inadvertently lingered on your lips, confused by the sudden hormonal outburst.

Feeling his face flush, Jacaerys scratched his throat, trying to concentrate on the rhythmic sound of rain tapping against the gym windows. Although he was still slightly flustered, he found himself less nervous than he had been when he first arrived this morning.

However, his peace was interrupted as soon as the school alarm sounded, causing him to be startled and turn to you with an apologetic look, as if he had caused some trouble or was responsible for the interruption. At the same time, his eyes showed a trace of gratitude, as if you had done something good, which left you a bit confused, though you didn’t mention it.

“Well, I have to go,” he said softly, adjusting his glasses and giving you a quick, grateful smile. “Thanks again.” As he expressed his thanks, you noticed his anxiety increase after the alarm went off. His earlier composure seemed to slip away, leaving him visibly flustered and, despite his hurry, looking quite sad about leaving you there.

"You're welcome, I guess," you murmured the last part, watching as he gave you a final, hurried smile before rushing towards the gym door again. His science project was firmly tucked under his arm, and he moved with such urgency that he didn’t notice the amused look on your face. The scene seemed oddly amusing compared to his frantic energy.

Jace dashed outside, grabbing one of the soaked backpacks left near the door. He continued his frantic rush towards the main building, his mind focused solely on making up for lost time.

In his distracted state, Jace didn’t realize he had picked up the wrong bag. The backpack he now carried had a red pendant with your name on it, rather than the superhero charms he usually had. His preoccupation with catching up and the image of your face likely contributed to his mistake.

─────── ─────── ───────

"You haven't seen her since that day?" Cregan asked, his words slightly muffled by the food in his mouth, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He gave his friend a knowing look, far too entertained for someone who had heard the story at least five times. "So, this is why we've been having lunch here for the fifth time?" he added with a smirk, his gaze sweeping across the field near the gymnasium. Jace shrugged in response, trying—and failing—to hide the flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck.

The truth was that, yes, Jacaerys had been trying to find you for the past five days, hoping to exchange backpacks. He knew that the mix-up was entirely his fault; in his rush to get to class on time, he had barely noticed his mistake. It didn’t help that he had been distracted by you, the pretty girl he’d seen near the school gym. It seemed like everyone around him had already picked up on his sudden preoccupation, which made his attempts at subtlety feel almost pointless.

Baela had been the first to tease him after spotting the pendant on the backpack with your name on it, while Luke had turned the whole thing into a spectacle, loudly exaggerating the significance of it all. Jace could tell that even his mom had noticed something was up, probably suspecting that he had a crush. And then there was Cregan—always quick to find amusement in anything that promised a bit of entertainment even if he already knew everything, and in this situation he was no different. Jace wanted to kick him.

"I just want to hand over her backpack." Jacaerys replied defensively, leaning his back against the tree behind him while trying to ignore his best friend's gaze.

“So tell me why you didn’t just give the backpack to your dad?” Cregan asked with a wry grin, his voice dripping with irony. He pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, casually igniting the cigarette with a practiced flick. As he took a slow drag, he kept his eyes fixed on his friend, who was clearly struggling to keep his cool. 

Jace blinked slowly, struggling to reconcile his friend’s reasoning with the excuses he had made to avoid embarrassment. Despite his efforts, he couldn’t come up with a solid answer. Your image was so vividly imprinted in his mind that he felt paralyzed, unable to think about anything else, and even though he was reluctant to admit it, he was actually thankful for the backpack mix-up. It seemed like a chance to strike up a conversation with you, and he found himself caught between feeling a bit foolish and pleasantly surprised by the opportunity.

“Stop it,” Jacaerys said, clearly irritated after a moment of silence. Stark just laughed, letting out a stream of smoke from his cigarette. “You don’t know anything,” Jacaerys continued, pointedly ignoring the teasing look his friend gave him.

“That’s where you’re wrong!” Cregan said provocatively, lying down on the damp lawn, still soaked from the rain of the past few days. "You have a crush on her!" He hummed softly, propping his arms behind his head and slowly closing his eyes, oblivious to the upset and confused look on his friend’s face.

"I don’t!" Jace retorted quickly, adjusting his glasses as he spoke.

Cregan scoffed and rolled his eyes. Jacaerys might be smart in class, but when it came to his own feelings, he was totally clueless. Cregan even thought that he was friend was quite stupid.

“I’m not saying you’re in love with her!” Cregan said, clearly exasperated, as he stood up, giving his friend an intense look.

Jace’s frustration grew. “So what are you saying, then?” he snapped back, matching his tone.

Cregan threw his hands up in frustration. “I’m saying you think she’s pretty enough to kiss!” he exclaimed, placing a hand on his forehead as he let his cigarette fall into his lap.

Jace blinked slowly at the blunt accusation, his throat tightening. Cregan’s words hit home; he couldn’t deny that he found you incredibly beautiful, perhaps more than he’d ever admitted to himself. It made sense why you’d been on his mind since the day your paths crossed and why he found himself watching you so closely, drawn to your lips more often than he’d like to admit.

He blinked once again when he realized that his best friend was in fact, right. In fact, he had made his friend look up your name on every social network, realizing all the while that he hadn't exactly helped himself.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Cregan asked with a casual hum, lighting another cigarette. "It’s not a big deal to have a crush on someone. I had a crush on Aly," he shrugged, clearly unbothered by the distressed look on his friend’s face.

"And now you like her!" Jace said, his voice edged with desperation as he grappled with his feelings for you. "Are you telling me I might come to like her?" he asked, his tone betraying a hint of fear, though he wasn’t entirely upset by the idea.

"Yes," Cregan said simply, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"You’re not helping me, man!" Jace hissed, pushing his hand under his glasses and rubbing his eyes in a futile attempt to clear the image of you from his mind.

"I know." Cregan shrugged again, watching Jacaerys with mild amusement as he continued to frantically rub his eyes. “You should ask her out!”

“What the fuck are you trying to say?” He pulled his hand away from his eyes and stared at his friend in disbelief, as if he had sprouted three heads.

“Relax, it’s just a thought,” Cregan said, a playful smirk on his face as he glanced behind his friend. “Actually, today might be your lucky day.” Without giving Jacaerys a chance to respond, Cregan dashed off, nodding toward the figure behind him and making heart shapes with his hands. Jacaerys baffled, turned around, and froze, holding his breath as he saw you standing right there hugging his backpack.

He could hear his best friend’s laughter fading into the background, but the moment his eyes met yours, it felt like time slowed down and his heart lodged in his throat, as if he had been swallowed by your presence. Everything around him seemed to vanish as he took in the sight of you standing there, your eyes meeting his with such an adorably confused expression that it made his chest tighten.

Jace was certain that breathing had suddenly become more difficult, his mind racing with thoughts of how beautiful you looked in that moment and how your eyes seemed even more pretty in the sunlight. He had to blink slowly just to refocus and prepare himself for the conversation that was about to begin.

“Hi!” you began, noticing Jace blink again at the sound of your soft yet cheerful voice. “Jace, right?” You tilted your head slightly, watching as he nodded with his mouth slightly agape, which made you let out a soft laugh. “Well, my name is—”

“I know!” he interrupted, his eyes widening slightly when he realized how loudly he’d spoken. He quickly cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing a deep red as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. Despite his embarrassment, you responded with a light, amused laugh. “I saw your name on the pendant of your backpack,” he explained more softly, giving a small, forced cough to mask his embarrassment.

Thank goodness Cregan wasn’t there; Jacaerys knew he’d never hear the end of it.

“Oh, right!” You gave another soft chuckle, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks as well. “I brought your backpack. Sorry it took me so long,” you added, your voice quieter now but still carrying that same cheerful tone. You watched as he stood up, a bit flustered, as he reached out to take your backpack.

“Everything’s fine,” he said awkwardly, now standing right in front of you as he stretched out his arm to hand you your backpack. You quickly mimicked his action, passing him his own backpack in return. “Did something happen?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern as he noticed the way you hugged your backpack tightly. His expression softened as he looked at you. 

You sighed, taking in the lingering scent of him that now clung to your backpack, a satisfied breath escaping as you savored the familiar trace. You met his brown eyes with an awkward smile. “I was sick the last few days, so that’s why I missed school,” you explained, your voice tinged with dissatisfaction. Jace responded with a soft, nasal laugh, his concern easing as he realized that you were now okay.

“Well,” he began, moving closer without realizing it, making you hold your breath. “I’m really glad you’re feeling better!” he said, his eyes showing he truly meant it.

“Thanks,” you said, trying to ignore the warmth on your cheeks and the closeness between you. He seemed oblivious to the proximity of your bodies in that moment, which made you clear your throat awkwardly. When he finally realized how close you were, his cheeks flushed as well. However, both of you felt a certain discomfort when that closeness came to an end.

“Well, I think I should go,” you said, taking a hesitant step back, not wanting to distance yourself any further. Jace’s eyes followed you, his expression showing concern and reluctance, as if he too wished the moment could last a little longer. Though he wouldn’t admit it, he didn’t want this to be the last time you both spoke.

As you turned to head back toward the gym building, he reached out and gently grabbed your wrist, making you look back at him in surprise. The touch was warm and comforting, and despite your confusion, you found yourself unwilling to move away from him.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, noticing how Jace swallowed hard before looking at you with a touch of distress, as if he were on the verge of doing something he’d never done before. His hesitation only made you tilt your head in curiosity. For a moment, you could have sworn you saw his gaze flicker to your lips.

“What time do you finish swim practice?” he asked, his eyes fixed intently on your lips. The question hung in the air, charged with a lingering, almost nervous energy as he struggled to keep his gaze steady. You were stunning in his eyes.

“Around 7:00 pm,” you replied, tilting your head slightly as you tried to ignore the blush creeping onto your cheeks. “But why do you want to know?” you asked, your voice filled with intense curiosity and a hint of excitement.

Jace swallowed hard, his gaze briefly falling to the ground as he gathered his courage.

“I wanted to ask you,” he began, his voice trembling slightly yet firm as he looked up at your flushed face. “If I could walk you home today?” He finished the question quickly, as if fearing he might lose his courage. Despite his evident nervousness, his gaze stayed fixed on yours, full of anticipation, and when he saw your face light up with a broad smile, a visible wave of relief washed over him.

“I’d like that,” you replied with a soft smile, your eyes shining with genuine enthusiasm as you watched Jace’s face light up in response.

“Great! I’ll see you outside after practice,” he said with a smile, gently releasing your wrist and waiting for you to head into the building so he could return to Cregan. However, as you turned to enter the school gym, you paused for a moment.

With a playful glint in your eyes, you turned back toward Jace and leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. The touch was brief but enough to leave Jace momentarily stunned, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red.

“See you later then,” you murmured, your voice carrying a playful tone. Jace watched you walk away, his heart racing and a smile tugging at his lips. Cregan was right, he definitely had a crush on you.

─────── ─────── ───────

Jace stood in front of the school gymnasium, the sun beginning to set on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. He could barely control his anxiety as he waited. Swim practice hadn’t ended yet, but Jace was already there, ten minutes earlier than planned.

He leaned against the gym wall, his hands in his pockets, trying to appear calm. But inside, his heart was racing, and he kept glancing at the gym doors every few seconds, hoping to see her come out. His thoughts kept drifting back to the kiss you gave him on the cheek, and for a moment, he wished you had kissed him somewhere else, though he wouldn’t dare admit that out loud.

He tried to push the nerves aside, but it was impossible. The idea of spending more time with you, casually talking as night fell, left him restless, and he couldn’t help but feel excited about it. He’d never felt anything like this before, maybe because he had never talked to a girl for more than five minutes, and that made his nerves spread so much that he had been unable to focus in class all afternoon. Cregan, of course, didn’t help at all, making jokes about how Jace was ‘head over heels.’

Just as he was beginning to lose himself in his thoughts, the gym door finally opened. Jace’s heart skipped a beat when he saw you step out, your hair still slightly damp from practice but with a radiant smile on your face. And as he saw you from a distance, he couldn't help but smile back as you walked toward him.

“Hi,” you said softly, still a few steps away, your voice carrying the usual playful tone that made his cheeks flush involuntarily and his heart pound disproportionately in his chest. He didn’t quite understand why he was feeling this way; after all, you barely knew each other, but he was almost certain that whatever he was feeling, you were too.

“Hi,” Jace replied, trying to sound casual, but his voice faltered slightly, betraying the nervousness he felt. He stepped closer to you, a smile spreading across his face as he tried to find the right words. “How was practice?” he asked, offering you his arm, which left you momentarily confused, but the confusion quickly turned into another smile when he took your backpack and offered to carry it for you.

He was the perfect gentleman, and you couldn’t help but be charmed by it.

"The practice was pretty intense, but I'm glad it's over," you said with a smile, reaching for your backpack. Jace gently held it just out of your reach, giving you a playful nudge as he started walking, with you quickly following him.

"I'm sure you did great," he said encouragingly, glancing at his car as you both passed by it. He considered offering you a ride, but the thought of cutting short the time both of you could spend together made him hesitate. He wanted to savor every moment with you, so he decided to walk with you instead, making the most of the time you two had together.

As you continued walking side by side, a comfortable silence settled over you. Jace noticed the curiosity sparkling in your eyes and couldn't help but smile. With a playful raise of his eyebrow, he looked at you, clearly anticipating the question he knew was on your mind. It wasn’t long before you broke the silence, eager to speak. 

“So...” you began, humming thoughtfully. Jace’s amused gaze intensified, though he found it hard to keep his eyes from drifting to your lips. He had never wanted to kiss anyone as much as he wanted to kiss you.

“What’s it like to be Coach Harwin’s son?” you asked without hesitation or embarrassment. He burst out laughing at your question, leaving you momentarily embarrassed, but he quickly regained his composure and began to answer. 

The next few minutes were spent with you and Jacaerys talking about your parents, exchanging stories and a few harmless jokes about them, and you couldn’t help but notice how Jace’s face lit up every time he mentioned his parents and siblings. He was definitely close to his family, always speaking about them with a tenderness that was impossible not to notice, and in a way, it warmed your heart.

Yet, you couldn’t help but notice that in the middle of the conversation, his eyes kept drifting to your lips and then back to your eyes.

Around 7 p.m., you and Jace arrived at the front door of your house. He struggled to keep his composure, fighting the urge to kiss you as you pouted, clearly reluctant to part ways. The thought of saying goodbye seemed to weigh heavily on both of you.

"That went by too quickly," you said with a sigh, picking up your backpack with a slight frown. Jace laughed softly, his amusement evident despite the shared sentiment. He nodded in agreement, feeling the same reluctance.

"Well, it’s not like we won’t see each other again," he said, his cheeks tinged with red as he noticed your hopeful gaze. "If you want, I can walk you home again tomorrow," he offered. His smile grew wider as he saw the bright spark of satisfaction in your eyes.

"I’d like that," you murmured with satisfaction, your eyes sparkling with excitement. As you both stood at the door, he couldn’t help but notice how the streetlights made you look even more beautiful.

Taking a reluctant step back, Jace’s gaze softened as it met yours. "Great, then I'll see you tomorrow," he said, his tone light but sincere, trying to mask his nervousness and excitement for the next day. He took another step back, unsure of what to do next, trying to keep his gaze away from your lips.

"See you tomorrow," you replied, bringing him out of his brief trance with your voice laced with anticipation as you opened the door. Jace watched you enter, his smile lingering as he turned to leave.

Jace turned to leave, reminding himself that he still needed to retrieve his car from the school parking lot. Yet the image of you—your smile, the way your lips had lingered in his mind—made it impossible for him to focus on anything else. He walked a few meters, his heart racing and his mind swirling with thoughts about what had just happened and what would happen tomorrow.

The idea of going back felt almost impossible. Abruptly, he stopped in his tracks, struggling against the urge to go back. He bit his lip hard and muttered, “Oh, to hell with it,” to himself.

Without thinking twice, Jacaerys turned around and walked back to your house, his heart pounding with the adrenaline of each step and the sudden, almost reckless decision he had made. As he reached your front door again, he sighed and hesitated for a moment before knocking firmly.

“Jace, what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice a mix of surprise and curiosity as you opened the door. Your heart raced at the sight of him there, his gaze fixed on you. “I had to come back,” he said, his voice trembling slightly, still out of breath from running back.

“I need to kiss you. Please, let me kiss you.” His eyes, filled with sincere longing and a hint of vulnerability, searched yours for a sign of approval. Seeing how anxious he was, you nodded without hesitation, feeling his soft lips gently press against yours.

Your lips are pressed against his, and you cling tightly to the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer, which makes him smile slightly, satisfied. The kiss is gentle but filled with an intensity that makes the world around you both almost disappear. When you finally pull away a bit, your eyes meet as you both try to catch your breath.

Jace smiled, his cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and delight. “I really needed to do that,” he said softly, his voice brimming with sincerity and a touch of nervousness.

You smiled back, feeling a warm flush on your lips from the kiss. “I’m really glad you did,” you replied, your voice filled with genuine appreciation.

He took a hesitant step back, still holding your gaze with a look of endearing affection. “I should go now,” he said, his tone laced with a subtle hint of reluctance. “But... can I still see you tomorrow?” His eyes, still fixed on yours, conveyed a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation.

You nodded, your heart fluttering with a smile. “Definitely. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jace,” you responded warmly.

His face lit up with a contented smile, and he began to walk away, turning back once more to give you one last, lingering look. “See you tomorrow,” he said softly before he finally turned and walked off, a satisfied expression on his face.

And even though your first meeting had been far from ideal, Jace couldn’t help but feel it had turned out perfectly, especially since you were his first kiss, with him being excited to get to know you better.

2024 © do not repost or translate my work anywhere else.

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[yuckiemouth]

Ugh I miss u sex with Riki bro like him coming home from tour I’m frustrated

“I Missed You So Much”

“did you think of me every-time you masturbated in your dorm?”

After their ‘WALK THE LINE’ tour, ENHYPEN finally got the chance to fly overseas to reunite with their friends and family. Although the experience was exhausting yet enjoyable for all seven members, they could finally relax—at least until they navigate through the throngs of enthusiastic fans and paparazzi. The pushing, shoving, screams, and tears were finally behind them as they settled into their first-class seats—something they could now afford, escaping the usual chaos of being followed even in the air. Riki sat at the very back by the window, headphones over his ears, resting his head on a neck pillow as he settled in for some much-needed rest. A soft ding interrupted his music. Riki glanced down, picking up his phone from his lap. A message from Y/N, his secret girlfriend back in Japan, lit up the screen. It read: “I can’t wait to see u ❤️.”

A warm smile spread across Riki's face as he read Y/N's sweet text. He quickly typed out a reply, "Me too, baby. Can't wait to hold you again." His thumbs hovered over the send button, but then he hesitated. Better not risk getting caught by the others, especially Jake who always seemed to snoop around his phone. Riki deleted the message and replaced it with a more innocent one: "Miss you already! See you soon!" Satisfied, he hit send before putting his phone away and sinking deeper into his seat, letting the gentle hum of the plane lull him towards sleep once more.

His phone dinged again and Riki’s 100% sure Jake would’ve twisted his head and asked “who’s texting you so much?”, but luckily he was slumped next to the seats beside him with his mouth agape. Riki chuckled before snapping a pic, preparing to use it for blackmail. He quickly checked Y/N’s message and it read: view picture. He dubiously viewed the picture and he inaudibly gasped. Y/N’s shirt was lifted with her perky titties in frame with the letters blocking her nipples like a tease. “I really need you.” Riki felt a stirring in his loins as he gazed at the provocative photo, his eyes lingering on Y/N's tantalizing cleavage. He bit his lip, trying to stifle a moan. Damn, she knew just how to make him ache for her. He couldn't wait to get his hands on those perfect tits again, to taste her skin and hear her breathy pleas for more.

With a smirk, Riki typed out a response, keeping his words light and playful to avoid arousing suspicion. "Mmm, I really do need you too, baby. But we have a few hours till we land. Why don't you play with yourself while thinking about me?" He attached another sultry selfie of himself lounging comfortably, his bulge barely concealed beneath his pants. "Get me hard for our reunion." Riki let out a low chuckle, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair in anticipation. His mind wandered to their last encounter, the way she'd writhed beneath him, crying out his name as he pounded into her tight little pussy. The memory alone was enough to make his cock twitch inside his pants. With a sigh, he decided to drift off with that thought.

.

.

.

As Riki approached Y/N's apartment building, a sense of relief washed over him. Being surrounded by his loving family had been wonderful, but there was no denying that he craved the intimacy and passion he shared with Y/N. He quickened his pace, his heart racing with anticipation as he climbed the stairs to her door. Taking a deep breath, Riki knocked softly, hoping she wouldn't keep him waiting. When the door swung open, he was greeted by Y/N's radiant smile, her eyes sparkling with adoration. Without a word, Riki pulled her into his arms, claiming her lips in a searing kiss filled with pent-up desire. He needed her, wanted her, and nothing else mattered in that moment. Riki shoved her back into the apartment with the wet kiss, pushing the door back close with a soft kick.

Riki's hands roamed over Y/N's curves as he backed her against the wall, breaking the kiss only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along her jawline and down the column of her throat. He nipped and sucked at her sensitive skin, leaving a path of love bites in his wake. "Missed you so fucking much," Riki growled against her ear, his voice husky with lust. He ground his hips against hers, the hardness of his arousal pressing insistently against her belly. "Need to be inside you, Y/N. Now." Without waiting for a response, Riki scooped her up into his strong arms, carrying her towards the bedroom as he devoured her mouth once more. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them lost in their desperate hunger for each other. Riki laid Y/N gently on the bed, his hands roaming her body as he kissed a fiery trail down her chest. He paused to worship her breasts, sucking and nibbling at her pert nipples until they pebbled under his attention. Y/N arched into him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she gasped and whimpered with pleasure.

"Please, Riki," she panted, her hips bucking upwards in search of friction. "I'm so wet for you. Fill me up, baby." He grinned against her skin, his cock throbbing with need. He slid down her body, kissing and licking a path to her dripping core. "Oh, I plan to," he murmured, burying his face between her thighs and inhaling deeply. "Fuck, you smell incredible." He left one last kiss on her inner thigh before adjusting himself between her thighs.

His rigid erection brushing against her slick folds. He looked up at her, his dark eyes smoldering with raw desire. "Fuck, I’ve missed you, Y/N," he urged, his voice thick with lust. "Hmm, this wet pussy," Y/N's breath hitched, her gaze locked onto Riki's as she reached down to guide him to her entrance. "I want you to fuck me hard," she whispered, her voice trembling with need. "Make me scream your name until my throat is raw." Riki groaned, his control slipping at her bold demand. With a swift thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside her, stretching her walls deliciously around his thickness. "Oh, fuck yes," his eyes rolled as he began thrusting into her tightness. Her mouth falls agape with desperate pleas escaping her short breath. “Uh huh, yeah, fuck me harder,” she nodded, encouraging him to go faster.

Riki gripped Y/N's hips tightly, pounding into her with reckless abandon as he chased his impending release. Her inner walls clenched around him, milking his cock with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin and their ragged breathing filled the room, creating a primal symphony of lust. "You're so damn tight," Riki grunted, sweat beading on his forehead as he drove deeper. "Take all of me, baby. Every inch." Y/N's cries grew louder, her nails digging into his arms as she teetered on the edge. "Riki! Oh god, Riki!" she wailed, her body tensing beneath him. With one final, brutal stroke, Riki felt Y/N convulse around him, her orgasm crashing over her in waves.

Riki's climax hit him like a freight train, his vision blurring as he spilled himself deep within Y/N's spasming heat. He collapsed on top of her, his heavy breaths mingling with hers as they both rode out the aftershocks. He rolled off her, pulling her close as they lay entwined in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Riki pressed a soft kiss to her temple, feeling content and sated in a way that only Y/N could provide.

[titania-sleeps]

Woman nutting in man is the only way. We should be like the seahorses. Only then will we reach nirvana

First Rut (Sub!Omega!Yandere x Alpha!Reader)

truly wise words, anon. i would have to heavily agree with you and thus,,, presenting,,, your first rut w adonis where you fuck him crazy and he enjoys it

one Adonis fic down, one more to go!

more works featuring Adonis: Adonis Introduction, Adonis Rides You, Adonis First Heat

warning: nsfw, dom reader, omegaverse, horny af manwhore omega, blowjob, kinda public sex, reader has dick (GN), minors DNI pls

Fuck. The time has come, hasn't it.

You close your eyes and lean against the hallway as the bustling crowd of students passes you. Dragging yourself by the feet, you trudge your way to hide under the staircase. The dingy area is just enough to curb the strongest of your desires, but there is still a gnawing feeling in you that needs to bite, tear, and consume.

It's only two in the afternoon, but you fetch your phone and send a quick text. Turning your phone off, you slide down the wall, not caring as the rugged edges of the wall snag against your neat uniform.

No more than five minutes pass when you hear quickening steps come your way. A sharp turn around the corner and a form that you're very familiar with emerges from the shadows. With a pretty blush on his face and his eyes wide like a doe, Adonis stands there nervously.

"You, uh, called for me," he breathes, his hands clutching the fraying edges of his sweater.

The sweet scent of roses and lemons attacks your senses, and your nails dig into your palm until it's bleeding. Why did you call him over again?

He seems to notice your state of struggle, so he runs to you, his hand on your shoulder as he brings his forehead to touch yours. It's your responsibility to contain yourself, but it's his mistake to get so close to you. Your hand sneaks around and wraps itself around the nape of his neck, bringing him closer.

"I'm burning," you whisper into his pink-tipped ears. His face erupts into a bright red and he stammers that he'll help you, that you can use him to calm down.

You push him away roughly, locking your arms to your side. You're breathing heavily, your vision growing hazy. You look up and he looks hurt, a worried frown on his usually bright countenance.

"Sorry... I"—God, he looks so cute—"didn't mean to...." Your weak apology brings out an immediate sigh of relief from Adonis. He kneels next to you, his hand placed over yours.

You groan, sending him a particularly piercing gaze. Your gaze burns into him, and you're holding yourself back with everything that you have. He stiffens in response, but his hand remains on yours.

"Class ends in an hour," he begins, his eyes flitting about anxiously, "so if you, um, need help..."

His offer hangs in the air, his clammy hand still laying gently over your own.

You don't need to think. You don't hesitate, because if you do, you might end up regretting what you're about to do. Instead, you submit to your instincts and you drag him down with you, your partner in crime.

Your mouth is on his in an instant, your teeth biting into his bottom lip. His lips part from his gasp, and you slip your tongue in, your free hand trailing under his shirt. Your nail scratches his toned stomach, and he moans into your kiss. You drag your nail down at a lazy pace, and your hand meets the tip of his bulge, straining against his pants.

He detaches from you, panic floating in his eyes. "W-wait, we're still at school—" You grab him by the tie, shutting him up with another messy kiss. He's protesting but you flip him so that he's the one against the wall, your hand placed next to his head on the wall.

"Be a good boy," you mumble in between kisses to his jaw and neck. His protests sputter out, replaced by quiet moans and tiny gasps. He's clutching the collar of your shirt tightly, but he doesn't push you away.

You lick the side of his neck, pressing a kiss onto it. "Very good," you praise. You hear him whisper a shy thank you, and you reward him with a kiss to his collarbone.

Your continued kisses have him gasping for more, but you stop abruptly. He whines, begging for you to keep going, but you have a better idea.

Only a second passes when his face is suddenly met with your cock, hard and red. You grin as his eyes widen like saucers, the blatant lust blossoming on his countenance. He's immediately subdued by the scent of it, his mouth opening subconsciously.

"Suck."

A single word is all he needs.

Adonis starts at your tip, lips brushing gently against you. Inspired by you, perhaps, he stamps small kisses down your entire length. Then he drags his tongue from your base, trailing along the underside of your cock, stopping only when he reaches the tip again. Opening his mouth, he takes you in.

You're melting into the warmth of his mouth, his tongue swirling around your sensitive spots, in a manner that is so intimately familiar with you. His dick is still bulging in his pants, begging to be released.

When he opens his eyes to gaze upon your form, his glance is hazy. He pushes his head down your length, your cock hitting the back of his throat. Adonis grimaces and he flinches, but he remains there, letting his throat do the work. He's gagging on you, and you're so close, but you grab him by his hair and pull your dick out.

"Why?" he whines, mouth opening instinctively, ready to take you in again.

You don't respond, and instead, you lift him up. Surprised, he wraps his arms around you.

"What are you doing—" His lips are met with yours again, and you slip his pants off with a quick flick of your fingers. He gasps into your kiss, but his arms around your neck tighten as he brings you even closer to him.

Adonis's cock leaks precum, dripping onto your shirt. Ignoring it, you push him against the wall, holding him up with one arm and using the other to align your cock to his hole. He moans softly, your tip grazing against his opening. Without warning, you slip your whole length in. It goes in without much resistance, and he's grabbing onto you desperately, face buried in the crevice of your neck.

You thrust up into him roughly, both your arms bracing him against the wall. His legs and arms wrap around your torso tightly as he moans into your neck.

"Fuck, you're so tight around me," you mutter. You shove as much of your cock into him as you can, angling it so it hits his prostate. His insides tighten, embracing your length in waves of convulsions.

"Ah ♡... [Y/N] ♡...!" He calls out your name, body quivering as you fuck up into him with reckless abandon. Every thrust is met with a wet moan and a little bit more of his precum trickling out. He's clinging onto you for dear life, a shaky grin dancing on his lips as his tongue hangs loosely.

You breathe into his neck, dragging your tongue along his neck. Your teeth graze his skin, leaving a burning trail of need on its way. He shudders, choked moans escaping from his throat as his eyes roll up in pleasure. You groan, feeling him spasm around your dick as both you and Adonis approach your limits.

"Bite me ♡," he whimpers into your ear, his breath hot. Your hips stutter, thrown off-guard by his plea; a flame unquelled in you roaring into its full life as your guarded desire is aided by the gas he spills.

But you reel yourself back, deciding to fuck him to oblivion so that he forgets. You can't bite him now; he'll be chained to you forever. And more importantly, you can't imagine doing that to the one person who seems to trust you above all else.

So instead, you lick his neck and give to him small, reassuring kisses. If he wishes for you to bite him in the future, you don't think you'll be able to hold yourself back. For the time being, though, you calm the knot that is forming at the base of your cock and thrust wildly into Adonis. Tears stream down his face as he moans your name over and over again; he speaks only your name and you are all that he sees.

"Please," he begs, pressing sloppy kisses to your neck, "please, please, b-bite me, I can't handle it anymore! ♡"

You bite your tongue, stopping yourself. "Be quiet," you whisper to him, increasing the pace. He obeys surprisingly well, swallowing and muffling his noises.

However, he isn't able to hold it in for long.

"I-I'm close, I wanna cum with you, I want you to mark me! ♡" he exclaims, kissing the corner of your lips. His hands scratch against your back, leaving marks to remind you of this day. Adonis's insides clench, and you shove it deep inside of him, head spinning as you release your thick seed into him.

"Bite me now, please, bite me right now!" he cries, face bright red and dick equally as red.

You don't listen to him and he has no choice but to cum at that very moment, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure of being filled. He wiggles in your grasp, nails digging into your back as his dick shoots out white ropes of cum.

His breathing comes out in quivering gasps, but he finds the strength to send you a reassuring smile anyway. He clings onto you, allowing you to lower him onto his feet slowly. Very kind of him, indeed, yet you're still aching for a bit more.

"Uh, do you want to... come over tonight?" Adonis asks, a pretty flush on his face. "Of course, if you don't want to, that's okay too, I know you're busy and—"

You lean in, caging him with one arm. He blushes, closing his eyes. Chuckling, you give him a flick to his forehead.

"Yeah, I'll be there tonight."

He opens his eyes, palm on his forehead, his pants still on the floor. A lovestruck grin is plastered ever-so lovingly on his lips.

not my best work. it only goes up from here?

-> masterlist

[bunny-1111]

Mission impossible - Theodore Nott

Description - Theodore attempts to ask you on a date until you finally give in

Fluff, slight angst, not too much

Word count: 1k

...

Theo, Attempt 1.

You were on your way to potions when you heard a familiar voice call your name behind you, when you look back you see none other than the infamous Theodore Nott, running towards you

"Hey! Wait, wait" he whined, finally catching up

"Good morning" you smiled out of politeness

"We have potions together, let's walk together too" he smirked

With a roll of your eyes, he chuckled

"Can I carry your books?" he asked

"No." you replied capable of doing it yourself

"Can I take you out?" He asked,

"No." you replied again

"and why not?" he would say playfully, bumping into you

"Because, Theodore, I don't want to?" you said, eyes wide

"don't be like that" he almost frowned.

By the time you got to class, you found Slughorn explaining a love potion, when you got to your station Theodore passed you,

"Maybe I'll just slip you a love potion, and you'll have no choice but to go out with me" he teased

"tough luck, Nott" you started prepping your brew

Pansy overhear and asked you "What's that about?"

"Ignore it" you demaned

"Oh come on, you should go!" she smiled brightly

"Maybe you should go Pans" you said rolling your eyes.

You focused on your work, you didn't need theodore and his stupid charm distracting you.

Theo, Attempt 2.

At the great hall for dinner, you hear Pansy scream out "Hey, watch it!" as Theodore shoved his way in next to you, replacing Pansy's seat with his own "This seat taken?" he smiled

"Clearly" you pointed to a now squashed Pansy

"You know we'd have plenty of room at the Three Broomsticks tomorrow 6 O'clock?" he continued

"I have to study tomorrow" you said picking at your food

"We can study there, I'll help you, I'm really smart you know" he says hitting your fork with his own

"Not smart enough apparently, not happening" You smile at him

he dramatically threw his hand onto his chest

"My heart!?" he pretended to cry "It's breaking" he said looking into your eyes, his face now more serious

"Go see Madam Pomfrey" you jest back

Theo, Attempt 3.

You were so stressed, pacing through the castle, looking for your lost wand.

Up and down levels, in and out of classrooms, every fricken common room and nothing it was gone.

"Looking for something?" Theodore asked his hand behind his back

"Yes, not now" you said, walking on

"Your wand?" he pried following your path

"yes, how did you know?" you ask, still walking

"Because I stole it" he laughed, practically bouncing next to you

"What?" you stopped dead in your tracks.

"yeah, it was sitting next to you. You can get it back after our date," he laughed, extending his arm out, your wand in his hand

"Theo!" you yelled, tears threatened to spill

He was taken back by your outburst

"I just failed a fucking defence against the dark arts task because of you; I had no wand; I couldn't participate!" You say, tears pouring

"I'm sorry I didn-" He began

"No, you've done enough, leave me alone. For good" you say snatching up your wand and storming off.

After cooling down, you wondered if you had been too harsh. He didn't mean to, and the look on his face—you didn't know why—hurt you to see him so upset.

He was wrong. He did the wrong thing, you reminded yourself.

Pansy found you walking to your dorm, "hey" she greeted

"Hey" you quietly return

"I can't believe Theo" she huffed, placing her books down

"what now," you asked, looking up. "what you don't know?" she smiled "he stormed into Snapes' classroom demanding he let you retake the test" She almost laughed.

you were shocked, "Merlin, he really likes you, y-know, he looked real down when he came in too-" "I have to go" You interpreted

Attempt 1, you.

Walking up to the boy's dormitories was foreign to you; carefully knocking on the door, you found Draco, Enzo and Blaise sitting around "Um, have you seen Theo" you ask

"Black lake, darling" Draco laughed as you close the door after you.

You made your way there, and found him siting under a tree, you anxiously approached

"Hey," you said, sitting down next to him, he just looked up, saying nothing in return. Silence settled.

"I'm sorry" he finally said

"No" you quickly added

"I'm sorry, I've been so rude, but I'm just shy Theo, I've never done this before", you painfully admitted, pushing aside your pride

"Alright you dont have to torture me now, you don't want this I get it" he said looking straight ahead, you didn't wait, it was now or never.

Grabbing his face you collided your lips with his

Trying to pull back you felt his lips turn into a smile, grabbing your face in return

"i-" you start

"I'm madly in love with you, and I haven't hidden it, please before I become as mad as moody, say yes to getting some butterbeer with me?" he smiled

"alright" you laughed as he pulled you into his arms

"I heard about what you said to Snape!" you giggled

"Oh? Did you now?" Theo beamed

"You're crazy, Theo" You scrunched your face, observing his

"I'd do it all again" he shrugged

"I am really sorry about your wand" he continued

"it's alright, I'm planning my revenge" you nodded

"Oh no" Theo said shaking his head

"Oh yes" you smiled, nodding

"Ohhh Noooo" he said reaching to tickle you

in between laughs you manage "Theo! Dear Merlin".

Success 1.

Over two butterbeers, the two you sat hands intertwined, hearts not far behind.

The rest.

The rest is history.

[slitherinky]

Masterlist | About me | Requests

The Magic of Forgiveness

Setting: soft!Theodore Nott x fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut and fluff, MDNI, fingering, oral sex (fem and male receiving), unprotected sex, creampie & Theo being more nice than he should

Summary: On a frosty Christmas Eve, Theodore Nott’s distant demeanor towards you unravels as he finally confesses the truth behind his distance: his overwhelming feelings for you. The tension melts away as he offers not only a heartfelt apology but also a special gift...

3117 Words

Please be aware of the warnings before proceeding. If you are underage, sensitive to depictions of violence, or intense explicit content, it is do not to read further. This story is purely fictional and does not reflect or endorse such behavior in real life. Any attempt to replicate the actions described in this story in real life is strongly discouraged. Harry Potter and the Wizarding World is a trademark of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.

The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall glittered with floating snowflakes, their icy shimmer mirroring the wintry magic that seemed to overtake every corner of Hogwarts as Christmas drew near. The castle, cloaked in frost and decorated with festive garlands, felt like a living fairytale. Students bustled through the hallways, their laughter mingling with soft hum of Christmas carols. 

You found yourself walking through the long, drafty corridors of Hogwarts, surrounded by the lively chatter of your friends. The scent of winter followed you as your boots clicked softly against the stone floors. It wasn’t long before your small group reached the familiar classroom door, which led to your last class of the day. 

You threw your books onto one of the tables with an audible thump. Taking your seat, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Just one more period, then you could hurry back to your common room and get changed. After that, it was nothing but a relaxing night with friends until the feasts tomorrow. 

The minutes ticked by at a snail’s pace. Professor Binns was droning about yet another goblin rebellion. The rhythmic monotony of his lecture, coupled with the soft scratching of quills and the occasional whispered exchange between students, created an almost trance-like atmosphere. You found your gaze wandering to the frost-covered windows, your quill tapping absentmindedly on your parchment as your thoughts drifted far from the lesson at hand.

As you reached for your inkpot, a folded piece of parchment appeared on your desk. You blinked, certain it hadn’t been there a moment ago. Glancing around, you noticed nothing suspicious — no one looking your way, no hint of a culprit. Curious, you unfolded it, your heart skipping as you read the delicate handwriting.

Meet me tonight by the Christmas tree in the courtyard.

The note was unsigned, and your mind raced. Was this some sort of prank? Or something more… genuine? Your fingers grazed the edge of the parchment, tracing the loops of the handwriting as if they could give you a clue. It didn’t look like anyone’s you immediately recognized, and yet, there was something familiar about it.

For the rest of the lesson, you couldn’t focus. Who had sent the note? And why?

As you packed up your things at the end of class, your eyes darted toward the front, where Theodore Nott sat, his sharp profile illuminated by the pale winter light. You couldn’t help but remember a time when the two of you had been inseparable, sharing your deepest secrets during late-night conversations in the common room. But somewhere along the way, things had shifted. He’d grown distant, his easy smiles replaced by guarded glances. Now, he seemed as disinterested in you, as you had been in the lesson.

The evening couldn’t come fast enough. As you slipped out of the common room and made your way to the courtyard, the air was crisp and tinged with the scent of pine. The massive Christmas tree stood in the center, adorned with twinkling fairy lights and glittering ornaments. Your breath formed clouds in the chilly air as you hesitated, half-wondering if this was all a mistake.

“You came.”

The voice startled you, low and soft. You turned to find Theodore Nott standing behind the tree, his hands tucked into the pockets and his face half buried in his green and silver scarf.

“It was you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, stepping closer. "Yeah. It’s me. Look, I know I’ve been… distant. And I’m sorry."

You blinked, unsure of how to respond. "Theo, why?"

He hesitated, his breath visible in the cold air. "I… I didn’t know how to face you anymore. It’s not an excuse, but I was scared. You mean more to me than anyone else, and I thought… if I kept my distance, maybe it would hurt less if something went wrong."

He fell silent, and for a long moment, you simply stared, your thoughts whirling. His words had knocked the breath from your lungs, leaving you feeling like you were suspended in time. 

"Theo," you said at last, "what are you talking about?"

He let out a frustrated sigh, as if he’d already said too much. 

"I have feelings for you y/n. Ever since we were first years. I thought we were just friends, but I want you to be more," He paused. "I thought you would have left me if I had told you."

His confession hit you like a wave, and for a moment, all the confusion and frustration of the past months melted away. 

"You’re an idiot," you said, still in shock of what he had just said.

"I know. But I’m here now. And I want to make it up to you."

Before you could reply, he gestured toward the castle. "Come with me. I… I want to show you something."

Curious, you followed him as he led you through the snow-covered grounds and into the dungeons. The familiar green glow of the Slytherin common room greeted you as Theo ushered you inside. The space was quiet, as most of the students had left after the last lesson to go home for the holidays.

"Wait here," he said, disappearing for a moment. When he returned, he held a small box and motioned for you to join him by the window. Snow had begun to fall outside, the flakes dancing against the dark sky. He opened the box to reveal a delicate silver necklace with a polished emerald dangling.

"Merry Christmas," he murmured, his eyes meeting yours.

You took the necklace, your fingers brushing his. "Theo, it’s beautiful."

He smiled softly. "Not as beautiful as you."

The words hung in the air, and before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned closer. His lips met yours, warm and soft, as the snow fell gently outside the window. In that moment, all the distance, all the questions, faded away, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the promise of something new.

As you pulled back, your chest felt fluttery and your lips tingled with the memory of his touch. 

"I- I think that’s the best Christmas present I’ve ever had."

"I’m glad," he murmured, taking a step closer, "but I can make it even better, if you let me."

Without thinking, you reached for him, and he met you halfway. Your lips were still tender from the previous kiss, but as they brushed together, they seemed to spark with new energy. This time, his lips moved more insistently, his tongue seeking yours out. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the heady taste of each other. His teeth grazed your lower lip, and you felt the kiss deep in your stomach.

"Theo," you moaned. The sound seemed to encourage him, his arms wrapping tighter around you as his mouth trailed down your throat. His breath ghosted across your skin, raising goosebumps.

The sight of his teeth biting your lip made you moan, and suddenly you felt hungry for more. More of what had been hidden from you for so long. More of what you wanted from him at this very moment. Your tongue swirled with his, tasting him. Your mouth was so hot and wet from his saliva. 

“You’re blushing,” he said, pulling slowly away from the kiss. His voice was low and teasing.

Your cheeks burned even more at his words, and you crossed your arms in a feeble attempt to look composed. 

“I am not,” you shot back, though the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

The faintest smirk tugged at his lips as he straightened and took a step closer, closing the distance between you. His hand reached up, brushing gently against your cheek, and your breath hitched at the contact.

“You’re a terrible liar, Love.” he murmured, his thumb grazing your jawline.

Before you could formulate a reply, Theodore moved again, this time slipping one arm behind your back and the other under your knees. In one smooth motion, he lifted you off the windowsill.

“Theo!” you exclaimed, instinctively clutching at his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

His smirk deepened, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “You looked like you were about to collapse. Can’t have you fainting after one kiss, now can we?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the warmth of his arms around you, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the heat rising to your face made it hard to string words together. “I wasn’t going to collapse,” you muttered, but your voice was softer now, more uncertain.

“Sure you weren’t,” he said, clearly unconvinced as he carried you through the common room.

The space was quiet, the usual chatter and footsteps absent. The remaining Slytherins were long asleep, leaving only the two of you under the dim, flickering green light.

When Theodore reached his dorm, he nudged the door open with his foot and stepped inside. His room was tidy, almost minimalistic, with a faint scent of cedarwood and parchment lying in the air.

He lowered you onto his bed with care, his hands lingering just a moment longer than they needed to before he straightened. But instead of stepping away, he sat down beside you, the bed dipping slightly under his weight.

“There,” he said softly, his tone lighter now. “Safe and sound.”

You pushed yourself up slightly, your gaze flickering between his face and the faint pattern of shadows on the wall. 

“You really didn’t have to carry me,” you said, though your voice lacked the sharpness you’d intended.

“Maybe not," He took a deep breath, "But I wanted to. I want to adequately apologize for my behavior the last months. May I?" He asked, leaning forward. 

Your heart began pounding in your chest.

“Yes,” you replied.

His mouth met yours, this time without hesitation. He pushed you against the pillows. His hands roamed your body, his lips making their way down to your thighs. He was seeking your consent, and you found yourself wanting to give it, to give him every part of you.

You trembled at the sensation, his lips and tongue sending shivers up your leg. His fingers kneaded into your thigh, pressing gently into your muscle. You could feel his eyes on you, watching your reactions.

“Do you like that?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Mhm,” you repeated while nodding, not trusting yourself to say anything more.

Theodore’s fingers tightened around your thighs, his thumbs trailing across the seam of your trousers. Your head tipped back at the touch, your eyes fluttering shut.

“Open your eyes,” he murmured. “I want you to see me. See how much I love this. See what I’m giving you.”

His thumbs brushed higher, grazing against your pussy. You felt your breath catch, your thighs quivering. He kissed the inside of your thigh, his tongue tracing delicate circles on your skin. The sensation made you quiver, your legs falling open for him. He hummed his approval and teased your slit with his fingers, drawing slow circles around your clit. 

“Theo,” you moaned, your hips twitching.

He kissed his way up your thigh, nipping at the crease before gently pulling at your pants and underwear. You lifted your hips for him, allowing him to slide them off. The cool air tickled against your skin, but it was nothing compared to the warmth of his mouth.

When his lips closed around your clit, you gasped, your whole body clenching. He groaned at the sound, his fingers joining his mouth as he rubbed you in slow, deliberate motions. Your head rolled back, and you could feel your legs trembling, your toes curling against the mattress. 

“Feel good?” He asked between kisses.

“Yes,” you gasped. "god yes."

He growled softly and slid one finger inside of you. “How about now?”

Your hips arched at the intrusion, your body clenching around him. 

His tongue swirled against your clit as he fingered you, his strokes slow and deep. Your pussy clenched around him, your vision blurring. You were close to the edge, your breath quickening with every stroke of his tongue, every movement of his fingers. 

“Theo, I’m-“ you gasped, but couldn’t finish before your orgasm overtook you. Your back arched, and you cried out, the feeling ripping through you. You felt like you were falling apart, the sensations too powerful to bear. 

Theodore withdrew his fingers and licked them clean. 

"You taste delicious," he moaned. "Like sweet cream and vanilla." 

He kissed you deeply, allowing you to taste your pussy on his tongue.

You laughed, the sound weak. Your body was still buzzing from his touch, the memory of it still echoing in your senses. 

"You're a bastard," you said, but there was no heat behind your words.

Theodore smirked, his eyes glinting. "So I've been told." He leaned back, his gaze sliding down your body.

You noticed then that he was still dressed. His robes had slipped down in the heat of the moment, revealing a tantalizing slice of his collarbone. The sight sparked an ache in your stomach, and you suddenly, desperately wanted to see him — really see him. 

“Take off your clothes,” you ordered, your voice low and commanding.

He blinked, his eyes wide. “Really?”

You nodded, your pulse thrumming. "I want everything of you Theo."

Without a word, he reached up and began to unbutton his shirt. He undressed slowly, deliberately, each movement almost agonizing in its slowness. When the last button was undone, he shrugged the garment off and let it fall to the floor.

Your breath caught at the sight of him — his chest was broad, his abs tight and defined. He looked even better than you’d imagined, his body lean and toned. A trail of dark hair dusted his chest, trailing lower to disappear beneath his trousers. 

Your fingers twitched with the urge to touch him, but you didn’t move. You wanted to savor this, to commit every detail of him to memory.

With a smirk, Theodore reached down and began to undo his trousers. They slid down his hips, revealing a pair of dark boxers and a bulge that left no doubt as to his arousal. You swallowed, your mouth dry at the thought of his cock inside you. 

“Is this what you wanted?” he murmured, glancing up at you.

You nodded wordlessly. “Yes.”

He slipped out of his boxers, his cock springing free. It was long and thick, the head flushed red with arousal. He stroked himself slowly, his fist moving in long, lazy motions.

“Come here, Love,” he murmured.

You obeyed, reaching out to take his cock in your hands. Your palms were warm against him, the skin hot and velvet-soft. You stroked him, your hands moving in tandem with his. His head tipped back at your touch, a groan escaping his throat.

“Fuck y/n,” he rasped, his voice low.

You moved down, your tongue swiping across his tip. He was hot against your lips, salty and musky. You licked him slowly, tasting him thoroughly as you worked your way down his shaft. His fingers tangled in your hair, his breath coming in short, quick gasps. 

You took him between your lips and sucked, moving slowly as you took him deeper. His fingers tightened in your hair, guiding you as you bobbed on his cock. Your tongue slid down his length, swiping at the tender skin. He let out a loud moan at the sensation, his hips jerking. 

Suddenly he pulled your head back. 

"Get naked for me, Love." he growled. "I want to see your body."

You obeyed, stripping the garment off and tossing it away. The room was warm, but a shiver ran down your spine as his eyes traveled your body. 

He ran his fingers over the necklace he had just gifted you, trailing down over your small, pebbled nipples. You let out a soft gasp. "You're perfect," he groaned. "Lay back on the bed."

You did as he asked, sliding back on your elbows and spreading your legs for him. His eyes ran down you, his breathing speeding up. He gripped his cock in one hand, trailing the hand through your legs. You gasped, arching up into the touch. He felt so fucking good against you.

Theo let out a soft moan, pushing inside of you. The feeling was overwhelming.  He stretched you out, his thickness rubbing against your inner walls. You let out a small cry at the intrusion. He paused, looking up at you. 

"Are you okay?" he rasped.

"Fuck, yes," you moaned while nodding.

He pushed deeper inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust before pulling back and thrusting slowly inside of you again. Your whole body lit up with pleasure at the feeling of him moving in and out of you. His hips were quick, his strokes deep and strong. You could hear the slap of his skin against yours and the wet sounds of him fucking you. 

"I will never let you down again," he moaned. "I promise."

His thrusts sped up as he fucked you, pushing deeper inside of you. He pulled your thighs wider apart, groaning as he watched himself disappear inside of you. 

"Look at how pretty you look taking my cock," he gasped.

You met his eyes, the connection making you burn up with desire. His gaze ran over your body, taking in every detail. 

He pulled you up to him, your legs wrapping around him as he sat on the edge of the bed. He pounded into you, thrusting in deep and strong strokes. His hands ran down your back to grip your ass, lifting you up and down on his cock. You felt like he was holding you together, like you would fall apart if he let go of you. 

He brought his mouth to yours, kissing you passionately as he fucked you. You felt overwhelmed by his touch. He was consuming you. Your whole world was centered on him and his touch.

"I'm going to come," you cried out.

He grunted, his pace quickening. You felt his cock twitch inside of you as your pussy clenched, your orgasm waving through you both. He filled you with his come, your pussy clenching around him for more. Your chest heaved as you gasped for breath, your vision blurring as pleasure overtook you. 

When your body relaxed, he leaned down and kissed you. "Merry Christmas, Love." 

You smiled at him, pulling his face to yours. 

"It sure is." You kissed him again, softer this time. "Thank you."

He pressed a last kiss to your forehead before he almost inaudibly whispered in your ear

"I love you."

© SlitherInky 2024 Do not copy, repost or translate.

You want more? My Masterlist

Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[just-a-jock]

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the gym's parking lot, Tom adjusted his glasses and trudged through the entrance. The gym was not his favorite place. In fact, he loathed it. The only reason he came was to spend thirty begrudging minutes on the treadmill, a concession to his parents’ persistent nagging about his health.

Tom stepped onto the treadmill, fiddling with the controls to set his usual pace. He was about twenty minutes into his routine when he felt someone bump into him, nearly causing him to stumble.

"Watch where you're going, nerd," a muscular jock sneered, not even pausing to acknowledge Tom's existence beyond the dismissive shove.

Tom glared after the jock, muttering under his breath. "Jerk."

Finally, his treadmill session ended. He wiped the sweat from his brow and headed to the locker room. As he approached his locker, his heart sank. The door was ajar, and his clothes were missing. All that remained was a white cut-off tank top and a stick of deodorant.

"What the…?" Tom's voice trembled with frustration. He had no choice. Class started in fifteen minutes, and he couldn't afford to miss it. With a resigned sigh, he slipped into the tank top, which clung awkwardly to his lanky frame, and applied the unknown deodorant.

He hurried to campus, feeling self-conscious in the revealing shirt. As he slipped into his seat in the lecture hall, he could feel the curious eyes of his classmates on him. He tried to focus on the professor's lecture, but a strange sensation began to creep over him.

Tom glanced down at his arms, and his eyes widened in shock.

“Wha..what is happening” his whispered under his breath

His muscles were growing, swelling beneath the tank top. His biceps and shoulders bulge. He could feel his chest expanding, the sinews and muscles shifting and solidifying. His pecs started to grow pushing out the tank a bit until his chest was basically laying on the desk and let’s not get started on his nipples as they started to move pointing down and getting more sensitive. Tom let out a soft moan as they dragged along the tank.

The sensation wasn't just limited to his arms and chest. His whole body seemed to be undergoing a rapid transformation. His legs grew thicker, his back broadened, and his abdomen tightened into a chiseled six-pack. He was no longer the scrawny nerd who had reluctantly entered the gym an hour ago.

But the most surprising change was happening under his arms. Tom felt an itching, tingling sensation that quickly turned into a vigorous, almost unbearable tickle. He raised his arm slightly, peeking into the cavernous gap of his tank top, and saw thick, dark hair sprouting rapidly from his armpit. The hair grew longer and denser, forming a wild, unruly jungle that seemed to have a life of its own. Even with his arms down he knew he wouldn’t be able to hide it.

His armpits emitted a pungent, musky scent, stronger than any deodorant could mask. Tom's face turned beet red as he noticed the heads of nearby students turning his way, their noses wrinkling in confusion and disgust.

Despite the embarrassment, Tom couldn't deny the power and strength that now coursed through his veins. He sat up straighter, the confidence of his new physique beginning to take hold. At the same time his cock started to expand and grow inch by inch as they escaped his briefs and started to sneak down his shorts.

“Wait no…please” he said trying to get those thoughts out of his head and the enlarging dick in his pants.

The class ended, and as he gathered his things, he quickly ran to the bathroom. Tom caught a glimpse of his reflection in mirror. The nerd who had walked into the gym was gone, replaced by a muscular hairy jock in his place.

“This this can’t be” he spoke but suddenly a horrible head ache hit him.

“UGHHHB FUCK” he screamed grabbing his head with one hand and the other laying on the sink.

New thoughts started to invade his brain. Working out, fucking, flexing etc…. After some time his eyes glazed over and Tom just let out a dumb chuckle has he flexed up exposing his prized hairy pits.

At that moment a guy came into the restroom. The same one from the gym.

“There you are bro, ready for the gym. It’s chest day!” He said smirking

“Just a second broski got to admire the hard work.” Tom replied admiring his new body in the mirror tho he had no more memory of his old one.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Possession

Pairing: Yandere Tom Riddle x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: You try to expose Tom’s dark side to Dumbledore but it doesn’t go well.

WARNINGS: Toxic relationship; Slapping; Threats.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

“Professor, wait!” you breathlessly yell, running through the hallway as you try to catch Dumbledore before he enters his private chambers.

He turns around, his surprised expression quickly being replaced by an understanding one as he notices it’s you. Dumbledore has always kept a close eye on Tom, even more so after finding out that he’s in a relationship with you.

Someone that shares little common interests with him as you’ve always stayed away from all the problems that seem to involve Tom’s close circle of “friends”. 

“How can I help you, Miss L/N?” he asks once you’ve reached him. 

“Professor, I have something I wish to say. It’s about…” you suddenly trail off, feeling a pair of deadly eyes burning holes in your back.

The whole aura in the long corridor has changed and you can feel it, a darker presence lurking around. 

You’ve unwillingly developed this skill as a coping mechanism. Being around him has made you more alert towards everything, especially knowing when he’s arrived.

And he has, you can feel it.

The thought of him catching you talking to Dumbledore, whom he absolutely detests, makes your arms weak and the heavy books that rest on your forearm almost fall, but you grip them harder. 

“Miss L/N, you can speak freely. Do not fear anyone, if that’s your concern.” Dumbledore gently speaks as he lowers his voice, his eyes catching Tom at the opposite side of the long corridor as the young boy quickly charges forwards towards the both of you. 

You hesitate for a moment, Dumbledore's sharp blue eyes freeze your mind and the incessant sound of the footsteps getting closer doesn’t help.

Conflicted is a weak word to represent how you’re feeling, but time is running out and you have to decide now. 

“I-” 

“Y/N!” Tom shouts, the booming voice makes you panic, resulting in the heavy books you’re carrying falling to the ground. You panicky kneal, trying to grab the books back and you feel Tom standing behind you, not bothering to help you.

You hurriedly get the books back and stand back as Tom takes a step forward, partially hiding your frame away from Dumbledore with his body but not before he sends a chilling look your way.

“It’s only a small doubt she had regarding our latest Transfiguration’s class, Professor, but I can assure I’ll clear all her doubts.” Tom starts, quickly regaining his calm appearance as he maintains eye contact with Dumbledore. His voice sounds soothing, like he’s telling the truth. 

“I apologize for disturbing you for such an insignificant matter, Professor. We’ll be leaving now, have a good evening, sir.” he continues, slightly bowing his head to Dumbledore, who doesn’t look entirely convinced by Tom’s explanation but he relents. 

“Good night, Tom. And Miss L/N? Do not hesitate to reach out if further clarifications are needed.” Dumbledore leans to his right, trying to catch a glimpse of your face and you weakly nod, mumbling a small greeting as Tom grabs your hand and pulls you away, leaving Dumbledore there. 

His pace is fast, it’s clear that he wants distance between him and Dumbledore and you have to rush to keep up with him. He doesn’t say a word but the way his jaw is clenched, you understand that you’ll pay the price for doing such a risky act. 

Tom pulls you into an empty classroom and before you can say a word, he roughly pushes you against a wall.

You gulp in fear, tightening the books against your chest as you gulp in fear. Tom’s eyes pierce through you, his hands on each side of your head. 

“You think you can beat me down by going to Dumbledore behind my back? Is that so?” he questions you. Fear boils inside you and you frantically shake your head.

“N-No, Tom. I wasn't-"

“Enough!” he silences you, the back of his hand meeting your cheek. The impact sound resonates throughout the entire room and you press your lips together, trying to keep a pitiful sob in. Tom hates it when you cry. 

His hand sneaks towards your throat, pressing it only enough so it doesn’t leave any marks. He inspires a deep breath, cracking his head to the sides before looking back at you.

“There will be consequences to your actions, love. You’re mine. You should know better, that I don’t let anyone take away my possessions, not even Dumbledore."

"Not one will ever save you from me.”

[cheriden]

˙ . ˚ ₊ 「 liar, liar 」 ꜝꜝ

“ "Thought people wanted college to be over. Looks like they never want to let go.” Soobin jokes. You look down, swaying your feet out of shame for being one of those people.”

── synopsis 。yeonjun drags you to a party and you get caught up in the middle of truth-or-dare.

pairing 。best friend!yeonjun x reader x friend!soobin

.ᐟ genre 。angst (yeonjun) and sort-of fluff (soobin) (and eventual smut)

.ᐟ tags 。yeonjun is an asshole, making out, college au, miscommunication/arguing because none of them want to compromise, i love soobin, drinking and party games

.ᐟ status & word count 。two-parts | 1.73k | masterlist

part 1 | yeonjun's ending | soobin's ending

.ᐟ warnings/notes 。 i did not proofread what's new! reader is gender neutral BUT will be afab once the smut comes along. poll at the end<3

“And if I don’t enjoy it?” You argue, to which the other whines and pulls you next to him. “You will, trust me on this.”

You would, except he promised you the same thing the past three parties ago. 

Yeonjun has been your best friend since diapers— a result of your parents being friends, and though you’d usually say he has your best interests at heart, sometimes his own precedes yours. He tries to get you into new things—clubbing, raving, organizations that require you to be social; you could really see how hard he tries to gain shared hobbies with you. 

Admittedly, it’s a bit unfair for him. He participates in all your activities, no matter how boring they get; and he enjoys them, so much so that he’d come to introduce you to his friends with similar pastimes. Which is why you’re here, but you can’t deny how tired you get of his social scene. It’s a bit too fast and loud for your liking, a point made as the both of you make your way through the sweaty crowd, Yeonjun greeting (screaming) at every familiar person he comes across. He guides you by the hand into the kitchen area, scoping the rest of the scene out. He says he’ll be right back, though it usually takes him 30 minutes to do so. He also says you can come with him. You shake your head and hoist yourself up the counter, palming the pockets of your clothing. You realize Yeonjun kept your phone in his bag. You grumble, mentally preparing to search for him, but the ocean of bodies is getting more violent as the night goes on. With a sigh, you pace around the empty area. You rummage through the cupboards and the fridge, only they’re all completely empty. You’d assume the drink table was somewhere off the side of the living room, and all you do is walk through the barren space. A knock is heard on the doorframe, and you look up to see one of Yeonjun’s friends. 

Soobin is one of the people in his close circle who keeps to himself, and he’s the one you share most in common with. “I’m guessing he hauled you to one of these again.” He comments, sitting on the counter next to you. “I didn’t know there were so many graduation parties to attend in a row.” You mumble. The other laughs, playing with the solo cup in his grasp. “Me neither. Thought people wanted college to be over. Looks like they never want to let go.” You look down, swaying your feet out of shame for being one of those people. You know the reason is childish and troublesome, embarrassingly cliche—but you’ll miss the proximity you share with your friends, namely Yeonjun. Skipped classes and free periods will no longer have you meet each other, to be replaced with a nine-to-five and what’s most probably a dead-end career in different areas of the city as the best case scenario. “Might as well enjoy it before the graduation ceremony, right?” You peruse, nudging his side. Soobin furls his eyebrows “You enjoy sitting here, bored out of your mind?” Rolling your eyes, you get on your feet and extend your hands to the blond. He raises an eyebrow, but can’t contain the smile on his face when he takes your hand in his. 

“I think we’ve made a big mistake.” Soobin whispers, watching the host explain the game. The two of you were stumbling around the house before you were pulled in by a group of strangers, forced to sit down. “We know how to play truth or dare, idiot.” Yeonjun groans across you, uninterested. “Can’t we just play regular spin the bottle or something?” One of his friends chuckle beside him, “So we can all get an STD from you? Yeah, no thanks.” The two argue even more, before the host shakes his head and tells them to shut up. “Let’s just start, okay?” The circle nods, and the bottle twirls around the carpeted floor. 

It lands on Yeonjun—and you have to physically restrain yourself from looking annoyed at the amount of fake ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ that come next. “Yeonjun,” The boy sings, "I dare you to kiss who you think is the hottest person in the room.” The brunette raises his hand, but is shut down. “No, you can not kiss yourself.” With a pout, Yeonjun stalks forward, earning a flinch from you. His gaze flickers to yours for a moment, but your incessant heartbeat suddenly drops when he swivels his head to kiss the person beside you. 

You gulp, and take in one long breath. It seems like forever, you watching him kiss someone else right in front of you. Your eyes are wide, gripping the hem of your bottoms as he pulls away slowly, smirk etched onto his lips as he wipes the string of saliva off it. You’re stuck staring at nothing for minutes, occasionally taking sips of your beer and glancing at Yeonjun to see him unbothered and carefree. His expression makes your stomach ill (though half of it is due to your drinking),  and you’re about to excuse yourself when the snout of the bottle lands on your feet. All of them are watching you, including the brunette’s curious ones. You take a deep breath, and plop down onto the cushion. The girl who’s up to dare you smiles, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I dare you to kiss the person that means the most to you.” But everyone here knows who means the most to you. “Why are we playing truth or dare if everyone’s just gonna be kissing each other anyway.” You deflect with a false laugh, but all the girl does is shrug. “Dunno—still a dare though, isn't it?” You weigh your options. If you did decide to kiss Yeonjun, you’re pretty sure your friendship would be over. If you flee, you’ll not only become virgin-coward-of-the-year, but it’d still be pretty obvious why you ran away. 

But you, in your semi-intoxicated and pressured mind, decide on the third option: Kiss Soobin. He stutters when he feels your lips on his, his hands shooting up in response. You contemplate ending your life there and then, but are surprised when he reciprocates by grabbing your waist and deepening the kiss. Soobin threads his tongue through your mouth and moves his fingers up to your face, cupping the cheeks. He’s warm and sweet and sends tingles all over your body—it’s only when you need to breathe that you separate from him, panting. Though your eyes are still locked into his, you can gauge the reaction of those around you through your peripheral vision: utter shock. It’s this realization that makes you whip your head to none other than Yeonjun, who gets up to tug you with him. “Okay, that’s enough. You’ve hit your limit and we need to get you home.” The group’s protests and boos go in one ear and out the other, as you’re dragged by the arm out onto the porch. Agitated, you shove him away. “What’s your problem? You’re the one who made me go to this stupid party.”

“You’re kissing strangers, get yourself together.” You look at him incredulously. “Soobin is not a stranger, he’s your best friend.”

“He’s a stranger to you. How could you even say he means the most to you when it's so obviously me?” Turning away from him, you hand your head up into the sky. “How full of yourself—and where was this concern during the parties where you left me alone? You didn’t even bring me home half of the time, Soobin did.” “Is that what this is about? You’re getting back at me for that?” You groan, rubbing your hands across your face. “It’s not that–” “Is it payback because I didn’t kiss you?” Laughing in astonishment, you point an accusatory finger at him. “You narcissistic asshole! Not everything's about you! Why would I be jealous of that?” The smug look on his face is nearly enough to send you over the edge, but his next words solidify it. “Because you’re in love with me.” You hide your guilt with a look of repulsion, expressions eerily similar to one another. “Now why would I fall in love with an egocentric, reckless, douchebag?” You spoke, tone dim and low. “Why are we even friends when all you’ve done  is disregard my feelings to fit in with your standards?” Yeonjun buries his face in his hands, muttering. “It's because our parents forced us to. I try so hard to make you feel included, to invite you to everything;” He pauses, narrowing his eyes at you, “But you always wallow in your own sadness and loneliness that you don’t even fucking try.” You scoff, “Try? I’ve done nothing but try ever since you decided you were too cool to hang out with me in highschool.” Crossing your arms, you keep your gaze pinned to the ground and sway back and forth. “I’m fine the way I am. The truth is, you don’t accept me for me. Why would I make the effort?” Now he scoffs, forcing you to face him. “That’s how the world works, you can’t sit in solitude for the rest of your life. I’m helping you when the time comes that you’ll need to make that effort and I won’t be around to do it for you.” His words linger in the air for a few seconds. Deep down, you knew that neither of you would keep in touch if it weren't for academics and proximity. You’d become jaded by reaching out, and Yeonjun would get tired of responding. Solemnly, you turn your head up with your eyes closed. “I don’t need you to babysit me. Just fuck off and leave already.” His lips part in hurt and shock, unsure of what to say. “I don’t need your bullshit either.” He spits. “How could someone like me? How could anyone fall in love with someone as close-minded and pessimistic as you?”

He stomps off into his car, leaving you alone with your thoughts as the trees sway and the wind howls. There’s not a single star in the sky, and all you can do is sit on the stairs of the porch as crickets chirp and the house muffles the boom of the soundsystem.