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#the only thing he had to go off of was I was dressed fem as shit
hanjsquokka · 3 days
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bed chem.
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han jisung × fem!reader — love at first sight, strangers to lovers, non idol! au, based on sabrina carpenter's song bed chem, fluff/smut
summary — you couldn't take your eyes off him since you saw him. even though you talked for mere seconds, you were undeniably in love. good thing he felt the same too.
warnings — alcohol consumption, swearing, explicit sexual content (warnings under the cut), lots and lots of kissing, just a little bit of a situationship
word count — 4.4K
author's note — extremely late birthday post for my favorite man 🩷 bed chem is my favorite song on sabrina's album and jisung just so happened to wear a white jacket for the dicon magazine photos 😻☝️ what a perfect coincidence. this was kinda rushed, but i hope you like it <33
please consider leaving feedback in the comments or reblogs, they really make my day 🫶🏼
minors dni. if you click read, you agree to nsfw content
smut warning — mastrubation (f rec), breast/nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple rounds (2), overstimulation
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You couldn't stop staring at him; you probably looked like a creep, but you could care less. The party was in full swing around you, all of the attendees decked up in black and white formal wear, in accordance with the theme of the party your company was holding. It was some anniversary event; you recalled seeing number balloons strung up all over the place along with normal ones. You'd, at first, reluctantly attended, your mishap with your original outfit causing you to borrow one from a friend at the last minute and your favorite pearl necklace snapping when you were putting it on—both seemed like an omen for you to not go.
But boy were you glad you did, or else you would've never met him.
“Han Jisung,” your coworker, Changbin, told you. “He was working at an overseas branch and was recently transferred here.”
Your brain zoned out after that, vision tunneling at the sight of the man in the white jacket, his hair slightly long and styled back with a middle part, although a few strands came loose and hung delicately on the sides of his face. When the light hit just right, you could see a sheen on his lips, making your heart thump in your chest even more. 
“God, just go talk to him. You're practically eye-fucking him in front of my champagne,” Hyunjin, another one of your coworkers, grumbled, his face scrunched up in disgust as he sipped from his glass. Your own glass was forgotten in your hand and most likely would've been spiked if you were at a club from the way it'd been staying in the same spot while you shamelessly gazed at the beautiful man.
“I would, if I had the guts to do it,” you snapped back, your free hand scrunching up the material of your sheer, black dress that you wore over a shorter, tighter one. Your friend told you that you looked hot but, in the presence of so many other elegantly dressed women and men, you felt underdressed.
Your horrible luck struck once again when you looked back at Han Jisung and your eyes met his. Your face flamed red at being caught by him, turning away so your back was facing his direction, and you chugged your champagne.
Both Hyunjin and Changbin laughed at your embarrassment, your scowl only intensifying their amusement. You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole, that you'd miraculously get a phone call from someone, and you'd have to leave because you would not be able to live this down if he questioned you. 
A tap on your shoulder nearly made you jump out of your skin, causing you to turn around so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash, and you were met with a blonde man with freckles dotting his face. “Hey,” he said, his voice deep and rich.
“Hi?” You greeted, your tone confused, wondering who this man was.
“Sorry, I'm Felix,” he offered a hand to shake, which you did while introducing yourself, still feeling as clueless as ever. “Long story short, if you're okay with it... I would like to introduce you to my friend. He's a bit shy.” Your brows furrowed for a moment before you nodded. Anything to save you from your slip-up. “Great.” He gave you a big smile before looking back, seemingly for his shy friend, and called him over.
In a ridiculous twist of fate, the person he called over was none other than the man you were caught staring at.
You wished you could disappear. 
“Okay, so, Ji, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Jisung.” Felix clapped his hands together. “Now stop being an idiot and speak to her,” he added quietly, causing Jisung to fumble with his words and hit the blonde's shoulder, the latter only laughing in response. 
Your heart sped up in your chest when Jisung's gaze met yours for the third time that night, beating so loudly you were sure someone could hear it. Felix gave his friend one more knowing look before he linked arms with Hyunjin and Changbin, making you question if the three of them were close, and walked away to talk to other people.
Your throat felt parched, and you had no idea what to say. Another sip for your fresh glass of champagne while the tension between the two of you increased with every second.
“Right, um, I'm sorry for staring at you,” he finally said once it had gotten almost too awkward, in an accent you couldn't put your finger on, letting out a nervous chuckle, and looked at you with those big, brown eyes, almost making your knees buckle.
“I apologize as well,” you said, your stomach fluttering as his smile widened. “I wasn't trying to be creepy, you just...”
“Caught your eye?” He asked before adding, “Because you definitely did.” You blushed, your body feeling hot and bothered at his sudden compliment. He opened his mouth to say something else, but a ringtone interrupted him, and he muttered a sorry underneath his breath before pulling out his phone from his pocket. “Shit, this is important.”
You smiled. “No, it's alright.” You watched him give you a sort of upside-down one in return before walking away to take his call in a quieter place.
You didn't see him for the rest of the night, much to your disappointment. It was like he vanished into thin air. You couldn't sleep, even after hours of laying in bed after going home (the sun would come up before you would sleep, you thought), your mind replaying the evening again and again in your head like a broken record. For the first time in a while, you felt something so strong for someone you had spoken to for a few moments.
You found yourself scrolling through your social media feed, pictures of the party occupying most of it. You came across a picture in one of Hyunjin's posts with Felix, and a dumb idea struck—Felix was Jisung's friend, right? If you were lucky, which was very unlikely, Felix would have a public profile... which he did! And then going through his following, you should be able to find...
“Aha!” You exclaimed as you landed on Jisung's profile.
The next few hours were spent scrolling through his posts—totally not creepy. Your delusions were increasing by the minute as you got a look into his life and the kind of person he was. He seemed to have stayed in Malaysia before coming to your town; he had a white-furred dog, and he uploaded videos of him playing the guitar and singing every now and then—he could not get any more perfect. The more you saw, the more it cemented in your brain that he was the one. He was perfect for you.
The only problem you had was how you would approach him without looking like a complete stalker. You finally fell asleep like that, drifting off into a deep slumber, your dreams filled with the face of the man you encountered and may never see again.
“No way, no way, no way!” You stared, mouth agape, at your phone screen, your TV show forgotten in the background. You'd woken up late the next day, skipping directly to lunch after freshening up and seating yourself on your couch with a plate of food in your hands. After you finished eating, you decided to check your notifications, swiping on the unnecessary advertisements and spam emails until you saw...
[Unknown, 11:37am]: Hey Y/n! It's Jisung, from the party yesterday. I got your number from Felix. Is that weird? I'm sorry if it's weird 😭 I really like you, and I feel bad our conversation was cut short yesterday. I was wondering if you'd like to hang out sometime. I'd love to get to know you better. If not, that's totally okay; just pretend I never sent this.
You read the message a few hundred times, saving his contact with a heart beside his name, before you mustered enough sanity to reply back to him.
[You, 3:09pm]: Hi Jisung! I'd love to hang out sometime 🩷
The reply was almost instantaneous, another wonderful quality. 
[Jisung 💘, 3:10pm]: Great! I heard this café is good around here. 
[Jisung 💘, 3:10pm]: <sent a location>
[Jisung 💘, 3:11pm]: If you're free, would you like to meet up there tomorrow? Unless you're not, that's okay; maybe I'm being too forward 😭
[You, 3:11pm]: No, not at all! I was thinking of tomorrow too. Sounds great. I'll meet you at around four?
[Jisung 💘, 3:11pm]: Four sounds perfect. See you then!
You had no idea how you managed to sleep that night, excitement flowing through your veins at the prospect of going on a date with Jisung. The next day, you impatiently waited for the clock to strike four. When it finally was time, you got dressed, redid your hair until it was to your liking, and hailed a cab to the meeting spot.
You couldn't believe you were meeting Jisung in a few minutes. Maybe all the bad luck yesterday was worth it. Hell, you'd endure misfortune forever if it meant the two of you could hit off and your relationship would progress from the awkward talking stage you were in. Your thoughts trailed from cute fluffy dates that you and Jisung could have if you started dating to more not PG-13 ideas the more you thought about him. It was wrong; you knew that. You hardly knew him, and yet you were acting like a horny teenager just because you thought he gave you heart eyes—in your defense, it had been a while since you were with someone, and your heart just couldn't help but wander down the gutter because this guy... this guy seemed like he liked you just as much as you did. He put in the effort of talking to you and everything—that had to count for something, right?
Your anxiousness made you arrive outside the café ten minutes beforehand, exiting the Uber with a cluster of nerves in your stomach. You opted for a warmer outfit, seeing that autumn had begun and the air had turned slightly crisp in the evenings. A woolen sweater tucked into your jeans, it was casual enough for a café date (was this a date?). 
After what seemed like hours (five minutes), you saw Jisung exit a car and come up to you in a light jog. “Sorry, did I keep you waiting?” You swallowed nervously, admiring his outfit choice that looked good on him. You shook your head in response to his question, a smile forming on his face as he stopped right in front of you. “My neighbor's cat snuck into my apartment, and it was this whole thing,” he said, waving his hands in the air while shaking his head in disbelief. “Anyways,” he went to the door of the café and opened it, “after you.”
You blushed and walked inside, thanking him for holding the door for you. The two of you sat at a table after ordering your drinks and settled into a less awkward silence than the previous day.
“Do you like coming here often?” You asked, looking around the place. You'd never seen this café before, probably because it was out of the way in your commute route from your apartment to your office. 
Jisung nodded. “Yeah, this place makes some seriously good coffee. My apartment is a few blocks away, so I usually drop by for a to-go cup in the morning before work.”
“Right, I never got to ask, which department do you work in?”
“Marketing. I worked in the Malaysia branch until a few weeks ago.”
You nodded thoughtfully. “Explains why I haven't seen you at the office before. I'm in the IT department.” You looked at the table. “I would've remembered if I saw someone like you,” you added, smiling as you saw the tips of his ears turn red.
“You're cheeky, aren't you?” He chuckled. 
A waiter brought your drinks—a pumpkin spice latte for you, a fall special that you adored, and an iced Americano for him. You took a few sips of your latte, your insides warming up from the hot coffee.
“So, Y/n, what do you like to do outside of work?” Jisung asked, brushing his bangs to the side to see better. His hair was much more unruly than it had been at the party; it added a boyish charm to his persona. 
“Not much, truthfully,” you admitted with a sheepish laugh. “I go to a pottery class on the weekends, but I'm not that good at it... Most of my masterpieces are deformed pots and mugs.”
Jisung laughed, his eyes crinkling as he did. “You'll get better at it! I sucked at playing the guitar when I first started, and now I'm not bragging, but I do play pretty well.”
“Really?” Liar, you knew he played well. You spent a good amount of time watching the guitar covers he posted on his account before you slept. “You'll have to show me sometime.”
“Even better, I'll teach you.”
Time passed by quickly, the two of you talking about whatever you could think of until you had to part ways. Despite the fact that there wasn't any solid confirmation that you're dating, you could tell he really liked you, which made your heart fuzzy. 
For the next few weeks, you both called and texted each other, taking a few detours at work just to see the other, only to see that they had done the same as well, making you laugh. Jisung was the only thing on your mind. His face, his deep voice, the way his face would flush whenever you made a teasing comment on the smirk that would tug at his lips whenever he did to you. You were dancing around each other on the topic of commitment, neither of you making the move to ask the other if you'd like to be exclusive.
It was frustrating seeing that you went on dates whenever your schedules would allow it—the movies, the park, anything, to be honest. You spent the day beside him and then the night with your hands between your legs, his name rolling off your tongue embarrassingly as you came around your fingers.
It was getting comical how your relationship was at a stalemate for weeks. Even Hyunjin and Changbin were pestering you to make the move so you'd stop rambling about him while you worked.
One day after work, you were met with Jisung waiting outside the office next to his car, still dressed in his work clothes and looking at his phone. Once you called out to him, he looked up, his face lighting up as he approached you.
"Hi, beautiful,” he greeted, taking your hand in his. “How was your day?”
“It was okay... What are you doing here? I thought—”
“I wanted to surprise you, obviously,” he said, tugging at your hand to lead you to his car. He used his free hand to open the driver's side door and brought out a bouquet of red tulips. You weren't an idiot, and you knew he wasn't one either. The color of the flowers... you knew what that meant, and your heart did a little jump in your ribcage. “And to ask you to be my girlfriend because I've been a coward to do so earlier.” He swallowed. “Will you do me the honor of letting me be yours?” He asked, his voice soft and almost nervous, eyes flitting up to meet yours. 
“I'd love to,” you answered, accepting the bouquet with a flushed face and a smile so wide your cheeks burned. “You're such a romantic, Jisung. These are beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you,” he flirted, grinning when he saw your reaction. “But seriously, I'm sorry I've been an idiot. I really really really like you, Y/N. Since the moment I saw you. Scratch that, I love you. I know I do.” He squeezed your hand. 
“I love you too.” A million thoughts were exchanged between the two of you as you looked at each other. Your eyes dipped down to his lips, and you bit the inside of your cheek before speaking. “Can I kiss you?”
“Thought you'd never ask,” he muttered, the hand that was holding yours moving to wrap around your waist. Your eyes fluttered close as his face drew closer to yours and his lips finally met your own. The kiss was sweet; you could taste his chapstick, which made your stomach flip. Your arms went over his shoulders, still holding onto the bouquet.
When he pulled away and looked at you with that half-lidded gaze, you swore you would have fainted if he wasn't holding onto you. Another kiss from him took your breath away, this one much deeper and more sensual than the first.
“I won't be able to stop kissing you now that you're my girlfriend.” He chuckled, planting a final kiss on your forehead before pulling away.
“I wouldn't mind that.”
“Really?” He laughed even more. “Good, because you can't stop me. Now, let me drive you home.”
The ride to your apartment was filled with future date plans and spontaneous karaoke once he turned the radio on. You visited each other's houses in the past few months, having a few movie nights, but this time, you wanted—no, needed to take the next step. He parked his car and walked with you up to your flat. When he was about to leave, you stopped him.
“Jisung, why don't you stay over?”
He paused in his tracks. “What?”
“We could order takeout... or make dinner, and tomorrow's the weekend...” You bit your lip, waiting for his response.
“Y/n,” he said, almost hesitantly. “You do know—”
“I want it.” You cut him off. “Just... stay over, Jisung, please?”
He sighed. “You know I can't say no when you ask me like that.” He smiled softly and accepted your invitation, walking into your apartment and kicking off his shoes. Both of you knew what was going to happen, and you were more than ready to have him completely. Once you locked the door behind you and put the bouquet in the kitchen, you felt his hand wrap around your wrist and pull you close. “Can I kiss you?”
“Please.”
Your third kiss was completely different, filled with fervor and desire. He pulled you impossibly close, his hands scrunching up the material of your blouse as he tried to taste as much of you as possible, tongue diving into your mouth. He groaned lowly when your hands tugged at his dark locks, making you smirk against his lips, and you did it again. “Mm… baby… You don't know what you're doing to me,” he muttered, his lips ghosting over yours.
“I want you, Jisung. I need you, please.”
“I can't deny my girlfriend when she asks so nicely, hm?” He pressed one more kiss on your lips. And then another, while you navigated clumsily to your bedroom. “God, I've been wanting to fuck you since I saw you in the dress at the party,” he spoke hotly, gaining your skin once you were in the room, peppering kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You let out a sigh, tilting your head to give him better access when you felt his teeth graze your skin. “So pretty.”
“Want you to fuck me too, every time you come here...” You said, your voice breathy as he left a mark at the junction of your neck and collarbones.
“Yeah? You've been thinking about me, baby?”
“Every night,“ you admitted, embarrassment bubbling up inside you when you saw the smirk plastered across his face. “It's not my fault!”
“I know, I know, I'm irresistible,” he said with a laugh and kissed your jaw. “I can't deny that I've been thinking about you too.” His warm breath fanning across the side of your neck sent a shiver down your spine. “A lot of R-rated thoughts. Maybe I could show you.”
“I think I'd like that.”
He smiled, kissing you on your lips deeply one last time before his fingers hooked underneath your top. “Can I?” With your nod of consent, he slowly lifted the fabric off of you, and it fell onto the floor. You could see his pupils dilate as he took in your freshly uncovered skin, which made heat pool between your legs. Every touch of his hands across your supple skin and every feathery kiss of his lips made your mind go more and more hazy, even though he hadn't even touched you that much. He tentatively gave your breast a squeeze over your bra, making you inhale sharply. He did it again, rolling his thumb over your nipple. 
You hadn't even noticed his other hand on your back until he unhooked your bra and it fell down. A red tinge formed on your face as Jisung practically drooled at the sight of you half naked, his mouth latching onto your nipples while one of his hands toyed with the other and his left trailing down your body to your ass, squeezing the flesh, making you meal. Your knees buckled as his tongue swirled around your bud, nipping at the delicate flesh. He did the same to the other side, drawing more and more quiet gasps from you.
It wasn't before long; both of you were naked and lying on the bed, him giving open-mouthed kisses sloppily along your skin while his fingers toyed with your entrance, making you moan and arch off the bed. He sliced you open, preparing you for the next step—the one thing you've been wanting for weeks.
“So wet already.”
“All for you.”
“All for me, hm?” He repeated. “I need to fuck you, baby. Been dying to feel you,” he said with a groan, kissing between the valley of your breasts, your heart thundering in your ribcage as he guided you to spread your legs. “Are you ready, love?” You nodded, unable to speak, feeling his heavy cock press against your inner thigh. He aligned himself with your cunt before pushing in slowly, letting your snug walls adjust to him as he sank deeper and deeper, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, until he was fully inside. It was too much and too little all at the same time. A peck on your forehead brought you back, and you signaled for him to start moving.
It was mind-blowing; the sensuality of his thrusts made your breath hitch. Soon, your moans filled the room in symphony with his groans and whimpers as your walls sucked him in more and more, drinking in his soul. His head hung over his shoulders, hair falling over your skin as he kept thrusting into you over and over again, making your toes curl as he repeatedly brushed against that spot inside you that made your mind go blank. 
“Fuck, you're so tight,” he grunted. “So fucking tight, so good for me.” You moaned in response, hands clawing at his back, needing something to ground you to this world as he drove you to greater heights.
“Shit, Jisung—” You could feel your orgasm approaching, the band in your belly coiling tighter and tighter.
“I've got you, baby,” he muttered, closing the gap between the both of you again, swallowing your moans as he moved harder, determined to make you cum around him. “Cum for me.” His words were the last push you needed to tumble off the edge, your body merging into him as you came on his cock. You could feel overstimulation kick in as he kept moving inside you, making you whine and dig your nails into his back.
“I'm not done yet.” And within a second, you were flipped onto your stomach, your ass jutted out, and he sank back into again, a loud moan coming from both of you. His movements were much less coordinated from before, more jerky and hasty as he chased his own high while trying to bring you to yours once more. His fingers found your clitoral area, rubbing harsh circles on the bundle of nerves as he drilled into you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed underneath his breath, feeling your walls clench even tighter around you. "Babe—baby, I need you to cum with me, please.” He gasped when you tightened instinctively at his words. “Come on, love.”
The way he could be so sweet and yet so dirty in the way he spoke while he was fucking you from behind, your face pressed into your pillows, muffling the loud moans reverberating in your throat, turned you on even more. You reached your peak once again, from the combined actions of his fingers on your clitoral area and his tip bruising against your spot inside you, clamping down on him as you released, triggering his own orgasm. His hot seed filled you to the brim, and he gave a few last strokes before pulling out his softening dick and letting both of you catch your breath.
After cleaning up, you laid side by side, your breathing still uneven like you ran a marathon. Curled up against his side, you let your body calm down, his arm around you to hold you close as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, brushing the hair out of your face and looking at you with tired eyes and a lovesick smile.
“I'll take you out on a proper date, and then we'll go back to my place, and I'll fuck you in my bed as many times as you want me to,” he promised quietly. “I'll take you wherever you want to go; just stay by my side, okay?”
“I'll always stay by your side. I love you.”
“I love you too, Y/n.” You lifted your head up to kiss his forehead, watching his grin widen, and he squeezed you in his arms. “Yeah, I'm so in love with you,” he said with a giggle. 
Now you could put your mind to rest, knowing you both had really good bed chem as well.
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luveline · 2 days
Note
anything with roan and eddie pls 🙏🙏 whatever you want to write about them!! i miss them 🥺🥺
thanks for requesting!! fem
Baking tray, beef cuts laid out flat. Eddie works in silence, dressing the beef with garlic honey, sesame seeds, and a big pinch of salt. He’d like to add some ginger, some paprika, but Roan doesn’t like when things taste smoky. 
He saran wraps the tray and puts it in the fridge. He makes everyone’s veggies —you like different stuff to Eddie, who likes different stuff to Roan, so he makes a garden’s worth of greens and douses them in olive oil, flaky salt, and a little dash of lemon and pepper. He puts that atop the beef in the fridge and tries to think of a side. He was planning on making pasta tonight, before he realised the beef was gonna go bad soon. Maybe he’ll make a pan of crispy mac and cheese to go with it. 
Yeah. He smiles to himself. That looks good on his head, two roasted ribs, a fist of mac and cheese, and a half a plate of roasted veggies. 
He cuts a little cilantro ‘cos Roan loves it, adds some lemon juice to that too, and sets it aside in the fridge. He makes a quick mac and cheese on the stove and tips it into a baking tray, covers a third of it in bacon bits for the youngster, and puts that in the oven. 
Then he sits at the table and sighs. Scratches two hands through his hair, lets the tight achy small of his back decompress as he leans forward. 
When Eddie started working at the shop with Wayne, he figured it would get easier over time. Part time table-bussing wasn’t going to pay for a trailer or his brand new baby, and for months it’s not like he could work anyhow. He lived solely off of his Uncle Wayne as he learned to change diapers, and calm colic, and be a new dad. It was depressing and frustrating all of the time. He felt like shit because he’d just fucking landed Wayne with another mouth to feed and diapers were so, so expensive, and so was formula, and baby clothes, and the guilt worsened when he realised he loved her. Loved Roan. He loved her pretty much the moment he laid eyes on her, but he had no idea if he could be a father, just knew he couldn’t let his kid fall into the system. 
But loving her had been second to panic for weeks. Then one day he was washing her tummy in the bath and he swore blind that she smiled at him, whether babies her age could smile or not. He tumbled out of the bathroom with her in a towel poncho to brag, and that night at dinner, Wayne gave a frowny Eddie the option: start working alternate shifts at the shop. Wayne would have her in the evenings while Eddie worked, they’d sorted everything out, he could start next week. It wasn’t half as scary as being a new dad, so Eddie said yes. 
Anyways, he expected it to get easier. He knows more about parenting and cars than he ever imagined at twenty, but it’s still hard. He’s exhausted. 
Good thing he knows exactly why he does it. 
The door to the living room opens with a creak. Small feet pad around the stair bannister and down the hallway that leads to the kitchen. Roan stops walking when she notices him behind the table. She smiles. She looks like him, less as she gets older, but enough to have given an appreciation for his own features. What’s more beautiful than seeing your smile on someone else’s lips?
“Hey, daddy.” 
“Hi, munchkin.” 
Truthfully, Roan has been his best friend for years. There’s something intangibly close about a single parent and their only child, especially when they’d lived alone. Day after day together, seeing all the gross bits and all the love. It’s given her a vast depth of emotional intelligence. She’s smarter now as a kid than Eddie was at 18. 
“You okay?” she asks, holding her hands up. He picks her up, plonking her on the table in front of him. “You look tired, daddy. And you smell like pepper.” 
“I just finished making ribs, babe.” 
“Yum!” Her nose moves when she talks, “For dinner?” 
“Mm-hm.” He finds her hand. Holds it gently. “Mac and cheese and roasted broccoli, too.” 
Roan smiles again. “Dad, you’re a good chef.” 
“I know I am! But it took so much practice. When you were born, you know what I was eating for dinner every night? I was eating chicken pot pie you put in the microwave.” She wrinkles her nose. “I know. I didn’t care about being good to my body. I definitely didn’t listen to my tummy.”
He likes this part about being a dad. He’s never found it awkward. He just drops his voice into softness and talks to her on her level. 
“But you learned.” 
“I did learn. I wanted to make sure you were eating everything you need. That’s why we eat all that broccoli.” 
She pokes him in the torso with her socked foot. “Maybe less broccoli for my tummy.” 
“I got potatoes and stuff too, don’t worry.” Eddie reaches for her hair in its after school mess, raking it away from her face. “You know I love you, right?” 
“Well, duh.” 
“I know, but really. I love you more than anything.” 
“More than Y/N?” 
“No,” he says quickly, then laughs. “Yeah, but just a little bit. It’s a different kind of love, okay? I love you both like crazy, but you’re my baby. Even though you’re not a baby anymore.” 
“I could be a baby,” she whispers, grinning, “I can be small again, and you can carry me everywhere, and give me a bottle.” 
He laughs roughly. “Yeah? You want a bottle? You barely like milk.” 
“Well, you can still carry me.” 
“I do carry you. I’m surprised these feet work,” he says, squeezing her toes in both hands. 
“Dad, don’t!”
“Sorry, sorry,” he presses his thumb between her foot and her toes and then drops them altogether. “I remember when your foot was the size of my thumb.” 
“I don’t.” 
He laughs more loudly than he means to and scoops her up for a rough and tumble hug. “God, I love you. I really do, bubby.” He presses his nose to her head and blames how tired he is for what he says next. “You are everything to me, you know that? You’re my everything.” 
“You’re my everything.” 
He tips her back to see her. Beams at her, touches his nose to hers. “You and Y/N, you make my life perfect.” 
“I’m glad,” she says, which has him laughing all over again, a childish giggle. 
When you get home a half hour later, you find them in weird places. Eddie’s sitting on the kitchen floor watching the ribs cook in the oven, and Roan’s under the table building a marble run with his approval. “Here?” she asks. 
“And the orange piece. We need more pieces, it’s not long enough.” Eddie smiles at you as you enter, but leans back, opening the cupboard under the sink to grab a saucepan, the sieve, and plastic jug. “We can use these.” 
“What’s up, my Munsons?” you ask. 
Roan smacks her forehead against the edge of the table in her excitement. “Ouch!” she says, crawling from under it to crowd your legs. 
“Ouch!” you echo, face morphed with concern as your handbag slides down your arm. You drop it to the floor and take her cheeks into your hands. “Did that hurt? I’m sorry, I feel like that was all my fault.” 
She shakes her head, curls bouncing this way and that. “It was an accident.” 
“I know, I know, but I didn’t mean to startle you.” You brush her hair back gently and hover. “Can I kiss it better?” 
“Don’t kiss it, it stings!” Roan says, veering away from you with a frown. 
“Sorry!” 
Roan twists away from you to fall into Eddie’s lap. 
“Sorry,” Eddie mouths. 
You pout. It’s with extreme beautifulness —is that a word? Eddie’s pretty sure it’s a word— you slip out of your little heels and sit down on your knees, stockings dark and perfect on legs he adores. You don’t question why they’re on the floor. That’s how you all fit, his smart working girl and your shared grumpy daughter, because nobody asked Eddie why he sat down by the oven. 
“Sorry, baby,” you say softly.
Roan’s frown worsens, but she says, “No, I’m sorry. My head hurts. I missed you.”
“I missed you too, big girl.” 
“Big girl?” she asks. 
“You sounded very grown up, is all.” 
Eddie has to agree. “You’re just that smart.” 
You hold his ankle. “So, how was work? How was school? Fill me in.” 
“How was your day?” Eddie asks. 
“Super usual and boring. We had some people from the Brussels branch come to visit and Jess kept telling me to stop being so awkward, and I asked her what she meant and she said I was smiling like somebody was holding me hostage.” 
Eddie loves when you smile like that. When you’d first met, you used to smile that way all the time. He loves all your smiles, obviously, but your excited–scared combo isn’t one he sees much anymore. 
You shrug. “But work paid for lunch, and I had this amazing mango passionfruit cake roll, I snook you some.” 
“You did?” Roan asks eagerly.
“I did! It’s in my purse, but it has a price.” 
“What’s the price?” Roan asks. 
You put your head in your hand. “I wanna know what you guys have been up to today.” 
When Eddie plates dinner that evening, it’s with a distinct sense of pride and content mashed together. It’s a damn good-looking meal, dense with nutrition and flavour alike, and you and Roan both seem similarly awed. Eddie wanted ribs and he got them, but almost as pleasurable as eating them is the way you both tuck in. You compliment his roasted veggies, telling him you could eat them for every meal, and Roan’s face is plastered in sticky honey garlic in minutes, a macaroni elbow in her hair. 
“Know what dad told me earlier?” she asks you. 
You snort and rescue her hair. “What did he tell you, baby?” 
“That we make his life perfect.” 
Eddie chokes on his coke. “That was a secret,” he says, throat burning, “between you and me?” 
“You didn’t tell me that,” Roan says.  
“Don’t be embarrassed, Eds.” Your eyes turn to hearts, staring at him over the steaming tray of macaroni and cheese. “You guys make my life perfect, too. My babe and my personal chef.” 
He dodges your cheek pinch, grabbing your hand to hold instead. 
“Just wish somebody would make me dinner every once in a while,” he says.
“Whatever,” you say. 
“Dad, I can make you dinner.” 
“I don’t trust you ‘round the kitchen.” 
Roan guides a forkful of cheesy macaroni to her lips. “Okay, good. I can’t make pasta like you,” she says. Eddie won’t mind making dinner again tomorrow. 
291 notes · View notes
Note
Can we get a part 2 of "get off the floor" ? It was sooo good
you know what? why the fuck not.
get off the floor, m | jjk >> get on the floor, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: You order Jeon Jungkook to get on the floor. He says, “Make me.” You make him get on his knees. The exact place he wants to be and the perfect place for him.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; bratty (needy) JK; wedding guests reader and JK get a damn room because they are not-safe-for-public, traumatizing some elevator patrons in the process; public teasing; smut (fem dom!reader + sub!JK, begging, biting, marking, spit kink, f and m-receiving oral, slight degrading talk (not really), whipping JK with his own belt, cowgirl, cock-and-ball torture, edging, forced multiple orgasms) ft. a cameo of certain lil meowmeow chastising them for being horny ;)
--
“Mine or yours?”
You watched him run the scenarios in his head. “Mine.”
“Ah,” you mused. “Mine then.”
He ran to catch up with your quick strides, looking just about as done with you as you had with him less than twenty minutes ago when he was laying on the floor being insufferable. Deserved. He grumbled under his breath. “Why ask if you’re just going to ignore me anyway?”
You turned and faced Jeon Jungkook, forcing him to stop dead in his tracks and almost collide with you. His white dress shirt was barely buttoned. At least he had the decency to fasten the black vest back up and haphazardly shrug on his blazer. You looked up at him, pointedly, although it was more to fluster him with the lines of your collarbones and cleavage. Instantly wiped the frown from his expression and replaced it with the struggle to focus on your face.
“Why follow if you’re against it?” you asked, completely blocking his path.
“I…” He fumbled with his words. “I’m not.”
“You’re not?”
You both stood in the hallway, so close to the lobby that you could hear voices. You watched Jungkook bite his lower lip, the awareness that if anyone happened to walk by – hotel staff, wedding guest, random patron – would bear witness to you slowly backing him into the wall, expression unchanging, until your chest was pressed against his chest, the smooth curve of your breasts brushing against his bare skin.
You narrowed your eyes.
“You have another thing coming if you think you can take advantage of me,” you breathed. Slowly and with venom.
He seemed genuinely shocked. “No way.” His youth shone through despise his mature appearance. “I want you to take advantage of me.”
You raised an eyebrow.
Jungkook seemed to realize that he blurted out his secret desires a little too loud. His ears began to singe bright red. He tried to raise a hand to cover his face. You slapped it down. He whimpered, pressing his lips together so that only you could hear it vibrating from his chest to yours. You saw his eyes dart about to check if anyone was around.
You grabbed his chin with three fingers, dragging his face back down.
Dark brown orbs shaking, his pink lips parting as you forcefully brought attention back to you. You leaned in, your lips moving against the side of his open mouth, whispering to his lip piercings.
“Then why your hotel room?” you asked rather calmly.
Hesitation. Then voices seemed to be moving towards you both. Panic. Jungkook attempted to escape your grasp, but you gripped his chin harder and shoved your torso into his, stepping between his legs to imprison him against the wall. He gasped in your ear. Hot and saturated with desire. You began to slide your thigh up between his and Jungkook couldn’t speak fast enough, his hands finding your hips and trying to keep you away from his growing erection lest he lose his common sense and give in to all he wanted.
“I wanted to see you in my clothes after,” he whined, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid your stare. “In only one of my t-shirts… And… M-Maybe we could s-share in a b-bed – please, s-stop… I can’t–”
You backed away.
He had not even registered your body heat left until a second later, bolting upright as a group of women turned the corner. Other wedding guests in fine dresses and holding cute colorful purses, deeply engrossed in conversation and fits of giggles, heading to the restrooms presumably to freshen up. You were already walking the opposite way, towards to lobby and the elevators.
You couldn’t help but smirk as you heard Jungkook bolt into a run to catch up.
Careful of your skirt, you stepped into the metal box with a few other hotel guests that seemed unrelated to the wedding. The doors began to close. A tattooed hand smacked the edge of the metal and the elevator stuttered, opening back up again to a red-faced Jungkook in a three-piece black suit with his white dress shirt half-open suddenly confronted by a scattering of startled faces.
And your enigmatic smile.
He weakly apologized and slunk into the elevator.
Now everyone was trying not to make eye contact with you both.
You tugged on the hem of his blazer and pulled him closer to the corner. He could do nothing but obey. From this angle, the rest of the elevator couldn’t see your expression due to his broad shoulders crowding you. Only Jungkook could. He, however, had a harder time of hiding, due to his height and his slicked-back black hair. The elevator carriage began to rise. You spotted him reaching up to smooth back a few stray strands in attempt to disguise previous dishevelment.
You raised your hand.
Jungkook’s dark eyes shot towards the action, warning you and mouthing, “Don’t.”
You traced the line of his pecs. His jaw clenched. You broke into his personal bubble to murmur, “What floor was the hotel room on again?”
Confusion clouded his features. His hand slid to the back of his head. The doors were opening and a few people stepped out. The rest were subjected to the sexual tension brewing in a corner. You smiled up at him, as innocently as a trickster could. Jungkook raised his other hand, probably to point to you to wordlessly ask what floor your room was on, but you scooted forward, grazing hip to hip, causing his hand to ghost your ass. Scarlet alarm rushed to his cheeks.
Your fingertip snuck closer and closer to his nipple.
His right arm dropped hastily and he mashed the button for the nineteenth floor, trying to push your hand down, inadvertently causing your nail to scratch against his already-erect nipple.
It seemed to take everything in him not to moan.
The doors slid open to the tenth floor and another couple hurried out. You gave Jungkook the devil’s smile. He glared at you. And shifted awkwardly. You glanced down. Then back up. He was trying not to look at you while also staring down your chest. Or maybe at the bulge in his slacks.
You paused as you felt his hand settle on the small of your back.
Now when your eyes rose, his did too. Somewhat uncertain. You didn’t move away. He seemed to be searching for something. You didn’t have anything to hide, so you let him look. You saw his lashes lower. He pulled you slightly closer. Leaned in, still searching, and you let him approach, the edge of your lips faintly rising.
A harsh ping interrupted.
“I would tell you two to get a room,” a dry, raspy male voice cut in from behind you.
The metal doors slid open. Jungkook started, backing off, revealing the unintentional audience. Dark olive-green jacket. Black beanie with black hair sticking out from the back. Black track pants and sandals. The pale man was carrying a plastic bag that seemed to be full of ramen. He glanced from Jungkook to you. Shook his head and walked past you both, smelling like fresh-cut pine.
His cat-like eyes found yours as the elevator began to close.
“But I assume that is what you are about to do.”
The not-so-strange stranger’s smirk disappeared as the doors shut.
The light from the panel of buttons switched only once. The doors opened again, to floor nineteen. Only you and Jungkook were left in the carriage. He grabbed your hand and pulled you out to the hallway, practically flying down the halls as quietly as he could. You were still a bit taken aback by the cat-like man who spoke with faint Daegu intonation, but were broken out of your thoughts as you saw Jungkook drop his room card, scramble to catch it from the air, succeed, and then fail to have the card reader scan it because he was pulling out too fast.
Hm.
You placed your palm in front of the reader.
His hand was shaking. He shot you a lost and frustrated glance, but you simply took the hotel key and inserted it into the slot, letting it turn green before removing it and opening the door. You stepped in, followed close by Jungkook. So close his crotch hit your ass. Subtle. The heavy door slid shut, automatically clicking. And then.
Darkness.
For a breathless second, the world was completely, utterly still.
You heard his breathing quicken, as if he finally realized the implications of everything up until now. It was easy to want, Jungkook learned, but much harder to do once the miracle came true. Perhaps that was too nice of a way to put it.
His idea of paradise was clearly not heaven sent.
You caught his hand in the dark, lacing your fingers in his to draw him away from the light switch.
Your name on the tip of his tongue before you kissed him deeply.
In the dark, he hadn’t noticed your body twist, silent as a snake, slipping the hotel keycard back into one of the font pockets of his slacks, and now you gripped his hand, holding it up and out of the way as your other hand roamed his skin, sliding up his collarbone and fanning over his neck. Devouring. You swallowed his gasp and tilted your head, softly coaxing his cries as you pressed your fingertips into the sides of his neck, relishing in the solidness of his muscles and the fragility of his sanity.
“A-Ah…”
You turned your head and used your hand to pivot him the opposite way. His wispy moan breezed past your cheek. It wasn’t quite as important to be silent anymore, but darkness had the ability to hush all, snatching vision away to amplify touch and sound. Your hand cradled his head and forced him down, your lips feathering over his cheekbone.
To his ear.
You circled your tongue, tasting the curve. Jungkook’s moan pitched. You felt him fighting his blazer as you kissed his ear, whisper light, almost noiseless, licking up his neck to feel his pulse against your tongue. Exhaled. His entire body quivered. He threw the blazer down onto the floor and grabbed your hips, almost lifting you in his pleasure, bringing more of his ear to you.
You bit down.
“Oh, fuuuuck…”
His fingers glossed over the slinky fabric, one hand on your ass the other creeping up your back, stroking your skin to guide delightful shimmers up your spine. He provoked you to bite his neck. You teased him with small kisses. Wet tongue, subtly writing your name onto his neck with your spit. A momentary tattoo only you knew. He was impatient, digging his blunt nails into your flesh.
You couldn’t resist teasing.
“What’s the matter?”
His trembling breath drifted down to your shoulder.
“B… Bite me.”
You stepped forward with one leg, smiling as you felt him press back against you, his hardness slipping into the divot of your thigh and crotch. Too many layers of clothes. Just the right amount of not enough.
“I can’t,” you hummed, running your tongue over the line of his neck muscle. “What if you have someone?”
Jungkook sounded a little bit offended and a lot whiny.
“There’s no one but you.”
Before you could become giddy over that – and, anyway, nothing was stopping him from lying – you bit the side of his neck, just under his ear. And sucked.
Hard.
It was an intimacy high unmatched. Skin between teeth, digging your fingernails into his chest, dragging down, scratching him as you bruised him, feeling his embrace loosen because the bliss of pain seized him. A gasping, weak groan fluttered from his lungs, up to his throat, leaving his lips in a drawn-out, sensual song of your name, lazily thrusting up against your thigh. Sweet friction. You lashed your tongue over the hickey. Left a constellation of bites surrounding it. Jungkook whimpered, stumbling as you caught his ear with your teeth and lightly tugged, subtly repositioning your bodies.
You flicked on the light switch.
The sconces on the walls lit up in a soft, pale white glow.
You looked down and the bruises were red-purple, a lasting mark beginning to deepen in color.
Your eyes shifted and Jungkook was staring back at you, panting. His carefully done hair was getting messier with every minute he spent with you. His vest was somehow on the floor. His dress shirt was barely hanging on his shoulders, the spread collar framing the top of his tattoo sleeve. The only reason he wasn’t completely shirtless yet was because the bottom was stuck in the top of his slacks. His belt was still buckled.
You smiled. He seemed flustered by it.
You placed a hand on his bare shoulder.
“Get on the floor.”
His dark eyes glittered. He couldn’t help himself.
“Make me.”
Your smile became a little more sinister. He balked and then buckled when the toe of your heel hooked into the back of his knee, making him lose his balance. You pressed down, firmly, pushing him to kneeling position. Your heel clicked back onto the tile floor as he caught himself, keeping steady as he realized you were using his body to balance yourself.
Jungkook lifted his head. Eyes wide. Hair over his forehead.
You looked down at him with a devil’s smirk.
“I thought you said… That my suit was too expensive to be on the floor,” he mumbled in meek protest.
He tried to be cheeky with it. His deep voice fluttered like butterfly wings.
Instead of truly replying, you stepped a little closer to his spread knees. You watched him hold his breath, then stiffen as you placed your right foot on his thigh. The slit of your dress parted like liquid violet, the deep color catching the light at the high points of your hip and the top of your thigh. You removed your hand from his shoulder, thoroughly keeping him in place with your high heel, and slipped your fingers at the apex of the slit, hiking it up. The heavy scent of your arousal was inescapable. Heavy and musky sweet. His eyes dropped down at the grand reveal, then widened as you traced the edge of the leg opening of your panties.
You curved your fingers and pulled the thin fabric aside.
Jungkook was now face-to-face with your glistening pussy.
“Hungry?” you teased.
His pleading gaze shot back up to your amused expression. You held it in breathless anticipation. Then you answered yourself.
“I hope so.”
Then you grabbed his head and shoved it in between your legs.
You caught a glimpse of his lips parting, pink tongue extending, and then you felt the warmth envelop you from below. His hand slid up your leg, leaving sparks after his trailing caress. Pleasure like soft petals closing in, and you rocked your hips into his face, feeling his tongue spread your folds apart and dip inwards. His wanton groan made your body vibrate. You gave in, riding his face with your head tipped back, closing your eyes. Rather than hearing the wet sucking sounds, you felt them electrify your nerves. From bud to blossoming bliss, causing you hiss with desire, crowning his head with your spread fingers and holding up your dress with the other. Jungkook tilted his head, closing in around your clit while lifting your leg on his thigh, and now the back of your knee was resting on his shoulder, the adjustment spreading your legs further and giving him the space to press his tongue flat to rub more roughly.
You moaned his name, low and seductive, and felt him shudder under you.
You leaned more of your weight on him and he received it well, holding your legs with his hands, licking, sucking, following the thrust of your hips into his face. You could feel your arousal dripping down, sticking to the inside of your thighs and his cheeks. He moaned in his chest and it radiated through your core, crawling closer and closer to the crescendo, ah, almost, your lashes fluttering, your grip on your dress tightening as orgasmic gravity began to pull you down.
“Fuck, Jungkook, I’m going to cum on your face,” you sighed out, twisting your fingers and pulling on his hair.
His muffled whimper sent you over the edge.
You set your jaw and exhaled heavily, bucking your hips into his mouth and spilling onto his tongue, electric elation clawing up your ass and back. Your body tensed up, completely focused on the surge of pleasure rippling through you, pressing your thigh against his ear. Your hand on his head slid down, holding him in place while your rode it out, smearing your release on his lips. You could, just barely, feel his piercings indenting your skin.
You almost didn’t let him breathe.
Then you let go.
Your head rolled back. Opened your eyes to look down, and Jungkook shuddered, his hot breath warming your heat. He leaned in again. Kiss after kiss, his tongue sliding out and licking up, closing his eyes to savor your taste, sending tingles after the high, before slowly opening those dark orbs to look up at you. You brushed his hair back from his forehead to fully appreciate the view.
He raised an eyebrow at you.
You untangled your leg from his shoulder and stepped back, taking away his pleasure.
His hands slipped from your body. Jungkook was distraught, desperation flaring in his eyes, about to crawl after you, but your swept down, flourishing your right hand and catching his chin in your palm, tilting it up.
His lips shone with your cum.
He froze.
You bowed, disrespectfully, bringing your face to his level, breathing in the perfume of your sex mixed with his cologne. You raised an eyebrow back at him even though he was back to being frozen in awe.
“Tongue-tied?”
You taunted him. Jungkook didn’t have the sense or sanity to have a smartass comeback.
“Take mine,” you offered.
And tilted your head to taste yourself.
In. Out. Your tongue outlined his moaning lips and dove back in, thrusting steadily, turning the kiss messy with your release drying on his cheeks and your saliva smearing down his lower lip. You flicked the tip of your tongue just under the center. His eyes were barely open, pupils blown out, unfocused, letting you claim his lips with no regard to himself except for sucking on your tongue when you allowed it.
You heard him swallow.
His eyes rolled back, and his entire body trembled with a breathless gasp.
You drew back to admire Jeon Jungkook on his knees, his white dress shirt pooling at his wrists and waist. All tan skin, gleaming muscles, and stunning tattoos.
His dress shoes and your heels were tossed into an inelegant pile quite unbecoming of you both.
Lust did that.
“Do you have a condom, by chance?” you asked.
You gave him a little bit of shit for having one buried in his suitcase. His toiletries bag shaped with a pink bunny motif, for fuck’s sake. He tried to hide it from you, as if you would find cute offensive. Had he ever looked in a mirror? But you let him be. His occupied hands gave you a chance to free yourself from your dress. You had paid for it to be tailored to your body, eliminating the need for a bra as it was already built in. Your hotel room key was tucked into the padding of the left breast. Creativity had to happen when there were no pockets. You didn’t have your phone or wallet. The wedding had a strict no-phone policy and the meal was complimentary, so you had left your personal things behind in your room. You were careful to hold onto the cups as you unzipped. The thin straps naturally slipped down your shoulders, no longer supported by the tension. The dark purple fabric slid down your body gradually with some help from a light shake of your ass.
You stepped out of it and lifted the dress up, draping it over one of the chairs in the hotel room.
You turned and Jungkook was staring at you with jaw dropped.
Hm.
He had managed to pull his shirt out of his pants. It lay on the floor, its white crispness rumpled with impatience. You pointedly glanced from the shirt to his naked chest. He held the line of condoms with one hand, the foil packaging shining in the light. Your eyes went to his face. He seemed taken aback. Suddenly nervous. You said nothing. With a tick of your head, you bent over and slid your thumbs under the sides of your bunched-up panties and glided them down your legs. Caught them in the air as you stepped out of them.
And placed them on the hotel dresser, right on top of Jungkook’s cell phone that happened to be there.
Your fingertips strayed on the edge as you face him again.
“Oh, fuck me,” he whispered under shallow breath.
You smiled with the innocence you stole from him and advanced.
You wondered if he meant to say it out loud. Didn’t mind his little slip-ups though. His ears reddened as you stopped in front of him. You stared into Jungkook’s eyes. He held his breath. You reached low and unbuckled his belt, gently teasing it apart and pulling from the buckle. It snaked around his waist, freed from the pant loops. The last of it fell into your other palm.
With a swift flick, you drew the buckle and end together, snapping the leather loop sharply in front of Jungkook’s chest.
“A-Ah!”
He came back to life, freezing immediately when you touched the loop to his pecs. It was a smooth grain leather. Very high quality. You grazed it over his skin. Turned it slightly as you neared his nipple, brushing the hard edge over the hard nub. He moaned in your face, biting his lip once he realized his impoliteness. You did it again. His eyelids fluttered, lowering to half-moons, clutching the condoms.
From your periphery, you witnessed his other hand sneak down to palm himself.
You turned the belt in your hands. You held the buckle with your left.
The look in his eyes was divine, craving punishment.
“You like pain,” you whispered. “Don’t you?”
Jungkook gave you the faintest of nods, sinking his teeth into the side of his lower lip, revealing the tiny mole underneath.
You smacked the smooth leather of the end of the belt into his chest.
“Answer me.”
He hissed, clenching his jaw while rubbing the highest point of the bulge in his slacks. You let him enjoy it. You were too busy enjoying the glassiness of his dark eyes.
“A-Ah, y-yes… Please…”
You slapped the leather against his other nipple. He gasped at the sharpness, ducking his head and seeing the slight red mark before you closed the distance, circling your tongue around it and making eye contact. You let your saliva drip. His breathing quickened, watching your every move. You drew patterns on his tense abs with the end of his own belt as you delicately bit down. Switched begin a light tap and a hard spank, all the while kissing his chest. You folded back the belt in your hand so it was easier to use the one end, alternating hits over wet skin and dry skin. His heartbeat raced under your lips. He let out a soft mewl, and then immediately tried to cover up such embarrassing noises, only to be reduced to puppy whimpers as you repeatedly smacked his nipple before roughly sucking on it.
At this point, Jungkook was practically humping his hand.
“Take it off.”
You warmed his shivering torso with your harsh command.
“Stroke your cock while I abuse you.”
Jungkook whined, incomprehensible. He was already doing his best to undo the button. You heard the zipper go down as you straightened. You whipped the belt over his bunched pecs. He gasped, almost a scream, shoving his slacks and boxer briefs down together. You had about a half second to appreciate how hard and how red he was before he wrapped his hand around his girth, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head, and he began to fuck his hand.
His pants didn’t even have time to fall down his thighs.
You did exactly what he wanted.
Licked up his chest. Spanked across the red trail, leaving a reddened mark. You did not give in to the adrenaline, keeping each hit within measured force, switching between hard and soft, not allowing him to become desensitized. The pain was unpredictable. The contrast made each loud slap seem worse than it was. His skin turned red. His eyes glazed over. His head tilted back slightly, the volume of his moans rising, his body rigid. You wondered if he knew that would help disperse the pain, but didn’t ask. The desperate lust was making him drunker than the alcohol he had consumed earlier.
The muscles of his neck tightened.
“Don’t cum,” you warned.
“P-P-Please…” He seemed on the brink of losing it. “Don’t… d-do this…”
You waited until the last second.
Then you shifted the belt in your hands, holding onto both ends, and tucked the loop under his balls, forcefully tugging upwards.
“Drop it.”
He obeyed instantly despite the tears on the edge of his eyes. The heavy weight of his hard cock struck the belt, dipping it down. You lifted the leather to fully cup his shaft and, while holding his terrified, eager gaze, slowly crossed your hands over, trapping his cock in a makeshift leather ring with his belt.
His cock throbbed so strongly that you felt it almost dislodge your work of art.
You raised an eyebrow.
Jungkook panted, waiting for your next order.
You glanced at the dark red-purple tip. It was shiny with pre-cum. Your gaze raised. His eyes were begging yes. His mouth kept up the act.
“N-No, don’t… please…”
“Touch it,” you murmured with the sweetness of a succubus.
His fingertips ghosted the sensitive skin and he almost buckled, shaking his head. You kept your grip on the belt, preventing him from lowering too much. If he wanted to escape you, all he would have to do was back up. But Jeon Jungkook did not want to escape you. He wanted to stare into your eyes and tease the leaking head of hic cock, shuddering and melting under the heat of your gaze, his body surrendering, subservient to your sublime, stinging conquest.
His hips were slowly thrusting.
His palm was against the tip, using the dripping pre-cum to stimulate himself as his fingertips rubbed along the underside. His lashes fluttered, doing his very best to not look away from you while also almost hitting the high of rolled-back eyes. The strong scent of his pre-cum and your arousal mixed together, saturating the air with pure sex. You took in every detail of his face, witnessing his fall to orgasm.
Almost.
You relaxed your hold on the belt.
“Fuck!”
Jungkook bit back his tongue and shot you his most helpless, longing expression. Probably two beats away from pleading you to whip his dick if only for the mere chance of release. It almost worked. Those big eyes truly were your downfall. You forced yourself to step away with a slow exhale, dropping the belt with a clunk and pointing to the bed.
“Lay on your back.”
You barely got the words out of your mouth. Jungkook nearly ripped the clothes off his body. You might have heard a seam pop. You pointed to the row of condoms in his hand and didn’t have the chance to ask before he separated one and ripped it open. On one hand, you wanted to reprimand him. On the other hand, the situation between your legs was getting rather dire.
You, too, were losing patience.
You stood on the edge of the bed, carefully observing Jungkook.
Those eyes trusted you a little too much after you whipped his chest red.
You decided to trust him too.
Slid onto the bed, crawling forward with immoral intention. In between his legs. He hesitated just before putting the condom on. You breathed out over his twitching cock. He whimpered. You loved it. Your tongue extended. With each throb, the head hit the flat of your tongue, transferring strings of spit down his length. His eyelids fluttered. You closed your lips around his hot, thick cock, unable to resist a taste, pressing him to the back of your throat, already addicted to the way he filled your mouth. You thought about edging him again but your pussy was pulsating with need.
You lifted your head, whispering darkly against his wet, shuddering cock.
“Fuck me.”
It was almost a growl.
The condom rolled down and you straddled him for the second time that night, using two fingers to hold him steady before sinking down, arching your back at the slick, full feeling of his cock entering you. It was a long-awaited reward, almost making you dizzy from the finality of it. Both of you moaned in unison. His hands found your thighs, kneading them, and you could feel him watching you, drinking in every detail with his eyes as you sank down, locking your hips to his.
Your gazes connected.
You couldn’t resist.
“Say please.”
His brows knitted together. You clenched around him. The defiance was instantly erased, replaced by submission.
“A-Ah…! Please…” The way your name dripped from his panting mouth was intoxicating. “Please…”
You rolled your hips into his with a firm smack.
The pleasure was glorious, direct, shooting through you from below. You drew up and thrust him back into you, again, and again, your breathing laboring as you rode him, drawing him and you to the abyss of lust. His gaze lingered on your bouncing breasts and he reached up, unsteadily, intoxicated on this feeling and refusing to sober up, sinking his fingers into the soft curves. You exhaled hard, blood tingling, moaning softly as his thumbs ran over your hard nipples, rubbing them in time of your rhythm. His fingertips were rough in the most arousing way, adding to the sensations amplifying each other, and so you let him touch you all over, feeling the edge of your lips tick upwards as your orgasm neared.
“I told you to fuck me, Jungkook.”
With half-moon eyes and a drawn-out moan, his hands slipped down your sides. Grabbed your hips and thrust up, making you both gasp. Hard. Slow. You pushed back down and both of you built to a brutal pace, your hands on his abs, digging your nails into hard muscle, and Jungkook was losing his mind, throwing his head back into the pillow, dripping sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. Your core burned, chasing the high, your back arching as well, matching each loud obscene smack with a satisfied cry, closer and harder and skipping breaths to withhold the faintest bit of oxygen.
Searing tension overcame your thighs.
You moaned to the ceiling and came all over his jerking cock, his groan pitching to a whine as he was suffocated by the spasms. You felt your pussy pulsate, dragging you into wave after wave of blistering bliss. The exertion had rendered you airless, gasping, squeezing Jungkook’s hips with your legs while you felt his grip on your ass tighten, sinking his spread fingers into the softness.
You froze, suspended.
Dying that little death.
You were still for a good thirty seconds. His cock throbbed inside you. You lowered your head, drifting down, down, meeting a fucked-out expression and unfocused gaze.
You smiled.
There was something so dangerous about it that it broke Jungkook from his reverie.
You lifted yourself off him, causing his length to slip out with a wet slap to his lower abdomen.
“W-What…?”
You made sure he saw you do it. Your hand extended, rolling up and he begged, “O-Oh, d-don’t… Please, you’re c-crazy…” and paying his words no mind as you dropped the used condom onto his stomach. You wrapped your hand around his slippery, sensitive cock covered in lube and cum.
Held him in panicked anticipation.
“Say it,” you demanded sternly. “You know what you want.”
The reality of his fantasy devoured him, and Jungkook desperately moaned.
“Please jack me off. Hard. Fast. Don’t stop.”
You gripped tightly and let the adrenaline flow. Power surged through your veins as he flinched, groaning into the pillow, his fingers digging into the sheets. His shaft felt hot, slick, stiff. You kept up an intense, harsh pace, and Jungkook cried out, almost thrashing, loudly whining as he came again. Cum pooled at the purple-red head, foaming as you continued, rising to press your knee to his lower ribs, holding him down. He was losing his mind, too oversensitive, whining, “Please, one more, o-oh fuck, f-fuck, please,” and you reached between his legs, tactfully pinching his scrotum and pulling on his balls with just the right amount of measured force.
Jungkook howled and slammed his head back into the pillow, thrusting up into your hand and orgasming so hard his own scream was cut off.
You ceased all movement.
His throbbing cock shivered and spat out a dribble of white that pooled around your fingers. You relieved his chest from the pressure of your knee. He coughed, sucking in greedy inhales, grabbing your calf as you dismounted. You turned your head. He was incredibly sweaty. His chest was tight. He looked like he had run a hundred kilometers.
Or like you just run him through.
You raised an eyebrow at him.
“I-Is it c-crazy…” Jungkook panted, staring into your eyes. “That I… Want you to d-do that again?”
There he goes again with his antics.
“You really are a pain slut.”
His lips curved into a daredevil, open-mouthed smirk.
“I like that about you.”
His ears flustered red at your compliment. You held his stare there for another uncomfortable second – on his part – and then looked down at the messy, drenched sheets before finally returning to his face.
“You’re sleeping on this side,” you declared, sliding off the edge of the bed to wash your hands.
You spotted his open suitcase on your way to the dark bathroom. It was crammed with clothes. You bent down to pick up one of his t-shirts, a white Calvin Klein, slipping it on over your naked body. Flicked on the light and turned your head to glance over your shoulder.
Jungkook was staring at you from the bed. Big eyes wide. Jaw slack. Black hair messy and all over his sweaty forehead. Naked and oh-so-very hot and perfectly enthralled by you while also being head-to-toe trouble for you, specifically.
Yes, you thought, I’ll keep him.
You smiled with a different kind of genuine pleasure and stepped into the bathroom, hearing the hotel bed fly into disarray as he chased after you.
--
drabbles masterpost | masterpost
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babyfoxflower · 3 days
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hi! making a request for alastor x f!reader! maybe where alastor has a nasty jealous side and takes it out on reader????? in a good way of course 👀 just a bit of an idea!
Ooooooo! I love this idea!
Jealousy
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Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Jealous & Possessive Alastor, Groping, Scratching, Biting, Blood Drinking, Oral (Fem! Receiving), P in V Sex, Cervix Fucking, Creampie, Also a little fluff at the end because I couldn’t help myself
“Well, well, well, looks like someone has a death wish, touching what’s mine,” Alastor’s tone was menacing as he narrowed his eyes at the man who had just briefly brushed against you.
His scleras were turning from red to black, and you knew what that meant. He was about to murder this man. He’s always like this but it gets worse when he drinks. When another man even just glances at you, he becomes a feral animal.
“Alastor, my love, it was just an accident,” you said trying to calm your overly jealous boyfriend.
“Haha, accident? I saw the way this wretch was looking at you from across the bar and now he has the gall to dare to come near you, the Radio Demon’s lady…” Alastor’s antlers were now growing, and you knew that you had to get him out of here before things escalated further.
The man was frozen where he stood.
You took Alastor by the face, “Come on, honey, let’s go home,” you gently whispered into his big fluffy ears, “let’s go home and you can do whatever you want to me, claim me as your own.”
Alastor looked at you and grinned largely and then he turned back to the man who was shaking in his boots, “You get to live this time. But if I ever see again, I’ll fucking tear your soul apart and broadcast your misery for all of Hell to hear. Hahahaha.”
You took Alastor by the hand and led him out of the bar.
All the way back to the hotel, Alastor wouldn’t stop groping you. He squeezed your ass and your tits, and kept kissing up and down your neck. You just let him though because you preferred him like this to when he was slaughtering someone. Plus if you were being honest, it was turning you on and you could feel your panties getting soaked by the minute.
Once you got back to your room, Alastor ripped your dress off of you and pushed you onto the bed. “Tell me, my dear, who do you belong to?”
“You, Alastor. I’m all yours.”
“That’s right, very good,” he said as he cut off your bra with his claws.
He removed his gloves to get a better feel of your mounds, he massaged them with his palms. You let out a little mew.
“Heh, I guess it feels good then?”
You nodded.
“But, I know my darling. I know you prefer pain with your pleasure,” he said before lightly digging his sharp claws into the tops of your breasts over the scars from the previous times.
“Fuck! It stings so good,” you cried out.
He chuckled darkly, before dragging them down to just before your nipples as he knew you had places that you didn’t like to scratched. He pulled his claws out of your tits and watched the beautiful blood start rolling down.
“Looks delicious,” Alastor licked his lips.
He ran his tongue across your chest, lapping up your oh so yummy blood. The sweet taste of iron filled his mouth and he moan profusely. You, yourself couldn’t help but moan and groan. You bucked your hips and rubbed your clothed cunt against his pants tent.
“Could that other man make you feel this good?” He asked.
You shook your head, “No, no only you can make me feel like this, baby!”
“You’re being so good tonight, my pretty pet. Saying all the right things. Letting me have my way with you. That deserves a reward, wouldn’t you agree?”
Before you could answer him, he was already kissing his way down to your belly and from there that special place between your legs. He tore off your panties with his mouth, “Look at that, so wet already, are we?”
You felt that familiar sting as he dragged his claws up your inner thighs. You threw your head back as you enjoyed every last bit of the pleasurable pain that raising through you, sending tingles up your spine. He planted a gentle kiss on your clit, knowing that it would drive you mad.
“Please, Alastor!” You begged.
“Please, what, my dear?”
“Give me oral pleasure, please!”
“Well, you did say the magic word.”
He started off with little kitten licks but that soon turned to long strokes up and down your labia. The lewd wet sounds mixed with your lovely moans filled the room.
Alastor began rubbing circles into your bud of nerves while still keeping his other hand gripped tightly on your thigh. He teased your entrance for what seemed like ages before finally shoving his long inhuman tongue into your weeping puss.
He reached it deep inside of you until he reached that spot. He started spelling the alphabet over it again and again with his tongue until you saw stars. You screamed out as toes curled and you came undone all over his face. He drank up all the juices that poured out of you.
“Tastier than venison and jambalaya combined,” he hissed.
Quickly, he removed his clothing and made you touch your knees to your chest as his forehead touched yours. He eased his thick member that was already dripping precum inside of you. Once your walls adjusted, he started pounding in and out of your cunt. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each hard thrust.
He moaned your name before kissing you passionately. Your lips moved in sync with each others, he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You could still taste yourself. You could feel yourself coming undone again.
“Bite down on me, darling,” he said exposing the crook of his neck to you.
You obeyed and bit down as hard as could, the sweet taste of iron now filled your mouth.
“Ah! Fuck! It feels so good!” He huffed into your ear.
Your walls clenched down on him as you had your second orgasm. Your eyes rolled back this time and you went momentarily deaf.
His thrusts got faster as he was reaching his climax as well. Soon he went cross eyed and cried out your name as his thick seed filled you up.
Alastor collapsed on top of you. Both of you were panting and drenched in sweat. Once both you came down from your collective highs, you held him as he laid his head on your chest. You stroked his hair and his ears, he looked up at you and smiled softly. His genuine smile.
“I love you, y/n.”
“I love you too, Alastor.”
You two eventually fell asleep and next morning, he already had your favorite breakfast ready for you.
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aviiarie · 1 day
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TO YOUR DEFENSE — chiori x fem!reader !
synopsis. chiori's partner is disrespected, and there isn't a chance she is letting it slide. warnings. n/a notes. established relationship. fem!reader. 1k words. i love her. so much. dedicated to @tragedy-of-commons who i brainrotted with about this idea <3
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Chiori is by no means a soft woman. Of course, she is perfectly capable of it when the right situation calls for it. And when the situation pertains to you—her cherished lover—she can deign to spare a measured amount of gentleness for your sake, but only a fool would mistake that for weakness.
Her newest client—a bald, bespectacled man interested in a new tailored suit and little else—seems to be exactly that: a fool.
“Apologize. Now.” Chiori’s tone is as sharp and cutting as the blade of her sword, making the man visibly shiver.
“I-I didn’t—Mademoiselle Chiori!” He stumbles over his words, losing any semblance of composure that he entered the store with. There was none of the bravado he held earlier, none of the confidence that had earned him her fury in the first place. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I-I simply—”
“Simply what?” Chiori’s eyes narrow, her face darkening further. “You simply thought it was appropriate to treat my partner with such blatant disrespect right in front of my eyes? You simply decided she was a sales assistant, and assumed that made it acceptable to order her around? You simply chose to tell her to make herself useful, and get you a tie in a different colour?”
The man flinches as his words are spat back at him, stuttering and stammering to try and pull together some sort of defence. It is a feeble attempt, and one that is quickly shut down.
“Quiet.” Chiori says harshly, cutting off the rest of his spluttering. “You will be quiet, and you will listen to what I have to say. Am I understood?”
The man nodded jerkily, looking like a skittish animal. The sight was rather pathetic, he was a foot taller than her and almost twice her size, but he still cowered at her piercing gaze.
“Not only have you falsely assumed that my partner—who has so graciously offered to assist me today, when you chose to delay your fitting appointment until an hour before closing—was a mere sales assistant, instead of politely requesting she retrieve an item for you, you decided to snap at her.”
Chiori took a pause, studying the man’s expression. It was almost laughable how much a grown man could so closely resemble a kicked puppy; perhaps she would have found humour in the sight, had she not been seething from head to toe with a burning anger.
“Treating my boutique like you can come and go as you please is one thing. But treating my lover like she is a worthless, lowly servant is something else. You have not just crossed the line; you have trampled all over it in those hideous dress shoes of yours. How dare you carry yourself with such arrogance, when you do not have even the common decency to speak to others with even a shred of politeness? You are not only an impolite, bad-tempered man, but a cowardly one at that.”
With every word, his head bows lower. It’s hard to tell if the action was out of genuine remorse, or shame that he was being scolded like a misbehaving schoolboy, but judging by his actions, Chiori could safely assume it was the latter.
“You—” Her eyes drift over to the side where you stood at the side of the store, watching the scene play out with an uncomfortable expression. If she were dealing with a disrespectful customer alone, she would not have hesitated to tear into him even further until he was a shivering mess of apologies at her feet, but the way you looked like you wanted to be anywhere else made her pause.
Even if she was defending you, your comfort was her priority. She bit back the insult on her lips, forcing her words to change their course.
“—You are going to apologize to my partner. Then, you are going to leave this store, and never return. You are not welcome at Chioriya Boutique anymore, and you will be blacklisted for life. I do not ever want to see your pathetic face again, but if I hear that you are treating any other sales worker the way you treated my partner today…”
Chiori didn’t finish her sentence, but the threat was clear. It hung in the air between them, causing the man to turn pale.
“O-Of course. I sincerely apologize, Mademoiselle—” The man turned to you, clasping his hands together. “I am truly sorry!”
“Go.” Chiori’s face twists in disgust. She steps away from the man, looking him up and down like he was nothing more than dirt beneath her shoe. “And do not come back.”
“Y-Yes, of course…” He bobs his head in a nod, face still struck with fear. He backs out of the boutique, as fast as his legs could take him.
Once he is out of sight, the anger melts off Chiori like snow falling from a roof. She turns to properly face you, her hand moving up to gently cup your cheek. “Apologies, that wasn’t something you should have had to witness. Are you alright, my love?”
You nod slowly, leaning into her hand. “I’m fine…”
She clicks her tongue. Her hand moves down your cheek, sliding all the way down your shoulder to rest on your waist. “Don’t lie to me. You look shaken.”
“I’m fine, really.” You insist, forcing a small smile. “Thank you… for defending my honour.”
Chiori’s face softens. She uses her hand at your waist to pull you closer until you were almost flush against her chest, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. “It is no problem, darling. Some people just don’t seem to understand manners until they are beaten over the head with them.”
You laugh lightly, and the sound is like a melody to her ears. She hums, pulling herself out of the embrace long enough to flick the open sign to closed.
“Let’s go home, love.” Chiori pulls your hands to her lips, pressing a kiss to each of the knuckles. “Let’s forget all about what happened.”
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© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai
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garfunklefield · 3 hours
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700 Follower Special!
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Baby come sit on my face~
college student!fem!reader/professor!Toji Fushiguro/professor!Kento Nanami/professor!Choso Kamo/professor!Suguru Geto Warnings: classroom sex, orgy, semi-public sex, spit roasting, double penetration, blow job, hand job, Choso and Geto lowkey start getting freaky, intense breeding, pussy eating, nipple sucking/play Word count: 2757 DESC: You decide to get extra credit the only way you know how ... being a whore
Ok maybe this is not coherent I AM SICK!! But thank you for 700!! Next up issssssssssss BDSM month!
NOTES: I've been putting this off for so long I'm already passed 700 LMAO. I don't know if this is going to be anything special but hey orgy man
How hard was it to get extra credit? Any normal student would do the simple things, you know, email their teachers professionally and ask for extra coursework. Or perhaps, buy school supplies on their professor's wish lists to boost themselves up in the classroom. For you, it was different. You were a full-time college student, although full-time was a stretch. Over time was a better word for the number of classes you took. Economics, history, math, geography, English- I could go on. But here’s the thing, as much as you tried to be a scholar student, you were falling behind. Your grades were slipping into terrible territory.  
So what else were you to do but ask for extra credit? You had seen enough porn to know how it would go. And you had also not interacted with enough humans to realize the idea was utterly insane. I mean, gathering all four of your professors [trust me it would’ve been more, but they were busy] into a desolate classroom as you stripped? It was insanity! Why the hell would these esteemed professors ever ruin their careers for some fun? Well, knowing them, you made the right choice. Your choice of winky faces and ~ made them all quirk their brows, but they weren’t stupid.  
Professor Kamo, for geography, was the first to arrive. He was a dark-dressed, tall individual. Out of all your professors, he was the absolute cutest. The way his face scrunched into a pout as he waited for answers, or how he beamed when talking about his favorite geological locations. You had to admit, you had fantasized about every teacher, but he was the one you liked the most. You imagined pulling on his hair, or even putting it up to make him such a cute little puppy. He would be a perfect sub, following you around with a subtle collar on his neck. Something to show you were his owner. Oh, you loved it.  
Then both your economics and your math teacher came in, Dr. Nanami and Mr. Fushiguro. Dr. Nanami was older, with blonde hair with salt and pepper starting to sprinkle at his roots. By far, he was the oldest and the sexist, although Mr. Fushiguro was a very close second. They were both tall and muscular from what you could tell, but your dark-haired professor had a sort of delinquent charm you found riveting. He would sit on top of his desk, talk candidly, and openly curse without caring if the students were offended. You wished he’d bend you over that same desk and whisper those stupid equations you never got in your ears.  
Finally, Professor Geto arrived. If you thought Mr. Fushiguro was a delinquent, he was nothing compared to the youngest professor. He had long hair, typically pulled back in a bun. The man insisted he only had a very limited number of tattoos, but you always saw more peak out from his sleeves or the underside of his shirt if he extended his arms. He was absolutely covered, with piercing holes in his face from jewelry you knew he had to take off every morning. His eyes too, God, they were sultry without even trying. The perfect seductive stare, every time he looked at you. It wasn’t purposeful, but you hoped it was. 
Your teachers all gathered at random desks as you were seated on top of a desk before them. Your outfit left little to the imagination, making it a bit hard for any of them to keep their eyes off you. White buttons on your blouse, pulling at your breasts and barely staying together. Your lacy black bra was peeking out, as was your thong. It was cheesy, but your only reference was shitty porn, right? Then a pencil skirt, but nothing office-appropriate. If anything, it was short and tight. It hugged the fat of your thighs perfectly, making them protrude as your legs crossed.  
Mr. Fushiguro was the first to break the silence, crossing his arms with a glare your way, “So is this the emergency?” He raised an eyebrow and motioned to your clothes [or lack thereof], “You don’t seem too … stressed out.” God that tone, the way he sized you up with his eyes. It was utterly seductive and utterly disparaging how you couldn’t run your hands over his muscles.  
“I think she might want extra credit,” Dr. Nanami concluded, taking a hold of his tie. Each day he arrived at class with a new tie, and today he chose your favorite. Just a plain black tie, but it contrasted beautifully against his pale skin tone. His fingers wrapped around the fabric and slowly he pulled it back and forth, off his neck. Oh well, he already got the memo it seemed. Your other two Professors simply watched as the two older men approached you with hunger in their eyes, stalking you like prey. You were going to be theirs tonight- all of theirs.  
Your black-haired professor was the first to take hold of you, placing his large hand on your thigh. It almost made you shiver, how he took your skin like you were nothing more than a mere object. His fingers dug into the plush fat and kneaded it slowly, just to see how you would react. You, obviously, were feeling a bit of arousal at this kind of touch. It was evident in how you bit your bottom lip, grating your teeth to the pleasure building in your lower half. It was kind of pathetic, how just a few simple touches were making your clit throb with anticipation. What didn’t help was another hand grabbing ahold of your jaw, turning your head to face him. Kento’s eyes were cold and grey, something you had grown fond of. It was hot, how he took charge and narrowed his eyes on you. Looking at you as if you were nothing more than his personal toy. Oh, and you were, you were so prepared for all of this. Pathetic.  
He leaned forward, slowly placing his loosened tie around your neck and tightening it. Just enough you could feel it, not enough to restrict your airflow. Although, you wouldn’t have minded if it made you choke- if he made you choke. The blonde pulled on the tie, making you fall forward into his grasp, where your lips finally met. You could hear a groan escape your other professor, but hell, you could’ve cared less. Fingers entangled in your hair as his mouth overtook yours in a sloppy bliss. Over and over did his tongue search your mouth and roll circles against your own. Teeth collided as you throbbed, completely soaking your underwear. You needed him, no you needed all of them.  
You pulled back from the kiss in search of Toji, locking lips with him next. He grabbed a hold of the tie and tightened it to the base of your neck, dominating your mouth in a slow kiss. It was painful, how he made you take your time instead of greedily taking him like you wanted to. Like you so badly wanted to. His large hand found a home on your hips, while more sets of hands spread apart your legs. You couldn’t tell who was pulling down your underwear as it fell to your ankles, warm fingers spreading apart your folds. Tongue against tongue and lips against lips, that’s all you could focus on as you felt lips on your neck, biting away, lips on your breasts, and a pair of hot lips against your clit. God, it was so overstimulating.  
You pulled away again to take in the scene before you, leaning back onto Professor Kamo for support as he bit at your neck. Nanami had undone your blouse … at some point and was beginning to mark your chest with his mouth, sloppily kissing the skin as if you were his last meal. Then Suguru had placed himself between your legs, face pressed against your warmth. It looked like he couldn’t breathe, but he wasn’t coming up for air. The pleasure was building; He wasn’t taking his time either. Although it was a slow build, it was intense. The kind of waves you’d only truly get from one of those rose toys. How the hell did he do that with his mouth? 
Another kiss took hold of you, this time by Choso. It was different from the rest, so sweet and soft. God, you wanted to corrupt this sweet kiss. You wanted to corrupt him most of all, make him beg to cum repeatedly until he was a panting mess. You leaned your head against his, pushing your mouth against his for more friction.  
Slowly your pussy was feeling swollen, as if it was already conceding from just this little amount of abuse. You wanted to cum, God you wanted to cum all over Professor Geto. Just coat him in your hot slick and watch as he had one of the other Professors lick him clean, before they’d get distracted and make out. That thought made you let out a noise, something you hadn’t done up until that point. They didn’t expect you to be so silent, but now it was all coming out. Your back arched to the thought of the men forgetting about you and taking each other instead, fucking until they were all a huge mess of sweat and spit. You moaned to the thought of Toji grabbing ahold of Choso’s face and tongue fucking him with all his strength, and how it would look. How it would sound too. The noises the two men would make, mixing with the sounds of the other men. And your wet pussy, how you’d touch yourself to the sight. It was making you clench at the thought.  
“Pretty girl,” Suguru cooed, pulling back from your cunt with slick trailing from his chin. One of his fingers slowly found its way inside, followed by another one, followed by a third. You gaped at the sensation, wishing you were fuller. Full of their cocks and their cum, pumping load after load into your cervix. You couldn’t speak, instead all you could do was whimper into Choso’s mouth as he grew desperate for your tongue, slowly grinding his erection into your back. It pressed against your curves and made you hungry to taste it, letting it fill your throat.  
“Fuck me,” you finally rasped, pulling away from the kiss and tapping Kento’s head a few times. Toji had been busy licking and sucking on your neck, but once he heard your words, he pushed you back against the desk. It was enough to overpower Choso’s hold on you, sending you falling back onto the hardwood.  
You weren’t sure how it happened, all of it becoming such a blur, but you found yourself straddling Dr. Nanami, with his cock ghosting your cunt, Toji, with his erection pressed against your anus, and your two other Professors standing before you, their dicks waiting to be touched by your greedy hands. You were salivating, reaching out and taking a hold of Choso’s boner before your mouth wrapped around Geto’s. He couldn’t help but grab the base of your neck, forcing you down his length. Then you felt Kento slide you down, and Toji force slicked fingers inside your hole. It was all at once, how you were being fucked and fingered, then sucking and stroking. God, it was becoming too much, how you were used and used like you were nothing more than a toy.  
Your hand stroked Kamo’s cock as your tongue lolled around Suguru’s dick. It tasted so good and felt like bliss as it kissed your throat. Each thrust of his hips sent his tip deeper and deeper until you felt yourself gag. All the while, Nanami was taking you with slow strokes. He wanted to feel you, take his time with you. Savor your plush pussy as he bottomed out. Then he wanted to fuck you, deep and hard, until you could barely take it. But the good slut you were, you’d take it. You’d take all of it like a good girl. God, it was driving him crazy.  
Toji’s fingers were circling your entrance and teasing your asshole, plunging into your hole slowly just to feel you stretch around him. It was first one digit, before the rest followed suit. You gasped around Geto’s length and pulled back, arching to the sensation of your cunt and your hole being penetrated. It was so good, touching spots you didn’t even know existed. But you were neglecting your other professor, who you saw was whimpering into your touch. Just like the pathetic sub he was, he wanted your mouth all around his member. You complied, swallowing Choso whole as your two hands began to satiate your other professors' burning desire.  
“F-fuck,” Kento stuttered, his hands planting themselves on your hips as he thrust into you. You finally tuned into the sounds around you, hearing the squelching and moaning from the men surrounding you. Toji was groaning into your ass as he finger fucked you, the blonde was losing himself in your walls, Choso was whining and gripping your hair, and Suguru was letting out breathy gasps from your hands alone. It was overstimulating. Each hole, each orifice, and each part of your body was being tended to. Who cared about the homework at this point? It had become more than that as you were used and fucked for their pleasure. You were a toy, a fuck thing. You were nothing more than someone who was being used to get all these older men off, and it was getting you closer and closer to the edge.  
You wanted to cum so bad all over Kento and Mr. Fushiguro hadn’t even gotten to fuck your tight asshole yet. You wanted to feel Choso splatter ropes of pure hot and white cum down your throat, bucking his hips and forcing you to choke as he kept going. You wanted to feel Suguru paint your face in his sperm as he thrust into your two hands, since his cock was too big for one. And especially, you wanted Professor Nanami to make you a good little mommy. You wanted him to fuck you repeatedly until you were swollen, until you were bulging with his cock and his spunk. God, the thought of your cervix being kissed by his dick was getting you off. Then you felt your asshole begin to stretch.  
Maybe that’s what sent you over the edge in an orgasm. It took over and within seconds you let out a sob. Your head pulled back from Mr. Kamo’s member as you leaned forward onto the man below you. There was intense bliss that filled your pussy and flowed into your brain, different than anything you’ve ever felt before. It was arousing, causing the yearning fire to come back moments after you had finished. Then Kento finished inside you. Your walls clenching around him was too much, sending him over the edge as the coil in his stomach broke. White and hot spurts of cum were pumped deep into your tight hole, as he fucked his orgasm right back into you.  
All the while, you hadn’t noticed the two men before you decided to get each other off instead of waiting on you. Choso pressed his lips sloppily to Suguru’s, wrapping his arms around the other as his dick rubbed against his length. It was hot to see them get each other off, holding their cocks together and bucking them up and down. His tip was swollen and leaking, brushing against Geto’s in a way you knew felt so good. You wanted to hold them together and press your fingers against their slits in a way that would drive them crazy, but feeling two men fuck into you was starting to get too much.  
Toji fucked into you like he had an agenda, and it was to get his own release. He didn’t care about your pleasure, and it was turning you on again. Kento on the other hand was trying so hard to keep his composure in favor of your pleasure. Yet, you so desperately wanted him to lose control and use you. You were their fuck toy. And you’d let them use you again, and again, and again, if it meant they could get off. You loved it. You relished in being used like a nasty whore. And they got off on that fact, too.  
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talisidekick · 6 months
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Spouse had their second round of surgery today. We're driving home and just stopping in at a co-op to get some things they're allowed to eat. We pull into the parking lot, and the inner wheel lining for our vehicle is falling off so it kind of makes this horrid noise anytime the vehicles wheel turns.
This delightfully curious and old man approaches my driver side window and has this look of concern on his face. The one where something is going horribly wrong, and you know the person -has- to know something is wrong, but you're not sure they know -what- is wrong. So I roll down the window and say hi and he goes. "So your wheel is ... um ..." and just looks down at it and and pauses, not sure how to describe the utter evisceration the wheel has done to this kind of important guard between the road and the front electronics.
And I'm sorry, but this guy looks like he's in his 60's and every alter in my brain is screaming 'make this old man not feel terrible, say -anything- to make this man feel less worried', so what do I say with a laugh and in a tone best described by '^.^'?
"Oh, I know, I'm just too poor to fix it."
Which did not make it better! Realizing that my idiot mouth blurts out:
"We're just running it into the ground! It's okay!"
Which totally doesn't help AT ALL! This man just apologetically looks at me and goes "I'm sorry to hear that, and I suppose if you take it off, that'll only make things cost more in the long run."
So now I feel WORSE and when we part he says something in Yiddish that I only recognize because I have heard it said by a Jewish friends mom when I was growing up as a teen (it got burned into my head because it was the first -ever- time I heard that language spoken). And I used to know what to say back because that friend taught me, but it's been over a decade since and I just stared trying to remember and just awkwardly said "I forget what to say back, I'm so sorry, I hope you have a good day." And then just peaced like the socially awkward DORK I am. I may be eloquent in my writing, and sometimes very well spoken on my streams, but in my real life I am neither of those things. I'm a socially nervous idiot with a bad case of word vomit. So just in case that Jewish man is on Tumblr or somehow sees this:
Sir, thank you for your concern, and please don't let my situation bring your day down! I promise you I'm still smiling and laughing and having a good day despite it all so don't let my situation weigh on you like it seemed to. I'll make it through, and I'll be taking every opportunity to make the tough situations in my life something to smile about in any way I possibly can. Your reach out was touching! It was incredibly nice of you. It's kind of made my last two weeks a bit better given I lost my job, lost my medical coverage, have missed 3 loans payments that the government is getting real angry about, and the bottom of my only vehicle I can't afford to replace is falling off. I know that all sounds bad, but you were a delightful change of pace from it all. I hope you have great things coming your way. ♥
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tonycries · 5 months
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We Don’t Have No Babies!
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Synopsis. Well, it’s a bit difficult to have no babies when they’re well and fully intent on fúcking one into you.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, bréeding, mentions of kids, máting press, pússydrunk boys, manhandling, marking, spitting, degradation, praise, cúmplay, the elders ugh (Gojo’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.9k
A/N. WHEWW take this as an apology gift for missing yesterday’s post date, I overslept eheheh.
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - What’s another?
“Don’t hah- pass out on me yet, doll.” Toji hisses. Spreading your swollen folds further apart with his fingers, already stretched so obscenely around his swollen cock, and only trying to squeeze deeper. “What was it that brat said again?”
And you can only let out a broken whine in response - too high off the stretch and the utterly sinful pool of his cum spreading on the sheets below. It’s been like this for hours now, both of you barely lucid at this point. But you can’t bring yourself to be disgusted, not even a little bit. 
Because Toji’s throwing your legs over his shoulders, pressing down, down, down, till your knees were at your tits. Folded in half, and stuffed full beneath him. God, you weren’t going to make it out alive. 
“Oh, riiight.” he drags out, voice strained. Deceivingly innocent had it not been for that devilish grin. “He called you ‘mama’.”
And there it was - Megumi’s tiny, seemingly mindless slip-up that got you into this mess in the first place. One that had poked some raw, primal part of Toji so dangerously awake.
The one that had Toji splitting you in half with his aching cock, hips pressing so hard against yours that it almost hurts. Fucking into you in slow, languid motions of his hips, while he drinks in your sobbed out little, “Ah- Hngh- Toji, s’too much I-” 
Lazily, he thumbs open your folds even more, watching in awe at the way his seed dribbles and oozes down your thighs, seeping into the mattress. It takes him a while to form the words, too hazy from how warm and sloppy you were inside. 
“Too much?” he drawls, with the audacity to sound genuinely taken aback. “I don’t think it’s enough, ma.”
It’s the only warning you get - barely - before he laces his fingers on top of your head to take him deeper, snapping his hips harder. Sloppier. Sensitive cock stinging with sensitivity, balls squeezing painfully. It hurt, but it hurt so good. And Toji wasn’t even sure if he could cum again. But he was milking his cock on your pussy like he was gonna fill you up until he physically couldn’t anymore.
“B-but m’so full.” you babble, mouth dropping into a fucked-out little oh! as you look down at the way you were swallowing him up so well. “Dunno if I can’t hngh- t-take anymore.” 
Oh shit, had he said that out loud? Ah, who gives a fuck. Because Toji was chuckling in surprise, stuck on the way you could still form coherent sentences - he had to fix that, of course. 
“Shhh. Don’ worry about it. Jus’ need to fill you up- ah, fuck a baby into ya, ma.”  he gently kisses away those big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “All you gotta do is sit there all pretty n’ take- it-” 
Hand snaking down to toy with your swollen clit - frenzied, barely-circular motions just to get you off. Because shit he can’t just stuff you full of his cock without getting the mother of his future kids off, right? And he let you know, of course. Maybe he was whispering sweet nothings in your ear - probably it was just promises of how he was gonna fill your pretty lil’ cunt till morning comes and Megumi was gonna be the best big brother and-
“-m’gonna make ‘em breakfast. And you’ll dress ‘em up. We’ll read oh- them bedtime stories and-” he’s babbling so pathetically into the crook of your neck now. “-an’ tuck ‘em into bed- Oh, fuck fuck fuck.” Drunk off your pussy and the heavenly feeling of his heavy balls squeezing so dangerously, letting his hips go out of control now. “And then- hngh, and then-”
“T-then what?” you let out such cute sobs into his open mouth, seeing stars behind your eyes each time he ravages you.
“Ya really wanna know, ma?”
Somehow, his words have you squeezing around him so good. Enough that it’s almost difficult to move inside you. Enough that Toji doesn’t even realize that he’s cumming and cumming so hard that you’re bloated with his seed. Squelching out of your quivering pussy and soaking his cock as he doesn’t even think of stopping even as you keen at your poor overfilled pussy, teeth latching onto your earlobe as he holds you still for him. 
“And then…” Toji’s hot breath fans your face, voice guttural and sounding like he was losing a little bit of his sanity with each thrust. Hips moving again and again to fuck his cum deeper into you. “And then m’gonna fuck another one into you.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Lonely? No problem!
“Aww, m’sorry. Did I make you feel lonely, my love?” Kissing your lips softly, running his hands all over the pretty lil’ lace covering your body - just barely, of course. “Did I leave my pretty lil’ wife all alone in this big house?” 
You give him a pouty little nod, and oh does that do something to Nanami’s heart - and his achingly hard cock. And he can’t help but pull the drenched fabric of your panties further to the side, greedily honing in on the way you glisten and clench around him. 
“Well, we should fix that, right? So that my pretty baby is never alone in here.”
You would be reassured by his answer - had it not been for the way Nanami doesn’t even wait for your reply. Instead, looking straight into your eyes while he pushes his thick cock deeper inside you. Not even fucking preparing you as he usually would.
“Oh! Oh, mm fuck-” And it’s all you can do to buck into his touch and just fucking take it while he grunts at the slight resistance. For once in his life more concerned about trying to fuck desperately into your dripping cunt than whether or not your poor pussy would hurt herself trying to take him. 
That merciful, practical little part of his brain going slow to let you adjust to his massive cock - because, well, he couldn’t break the mother of his future children. Now, could he?
But oh how you’d beg to differ with the way Nanami fucks into you in languid , shallow grinds of his hips. No matter how many times Nanami stuffed you full of his cock - his size never failed to disappoint. Stretching you out, fingers swiping at your clit, expertly grazing against all the right spots he knew so maddeningly well. 
“Two or three?”
It takes you a second to register that he’s waiting for your answer - too delirious with the way your husband’s splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his cock. Leaving neat crescents of his nails on your hips as he holds your slutty pussy still. 
“W-what?”
“Two or three?” Nanami gives your pulsing clit a little smack! as if to get your attention, hips stuttering ever-so-slightly at the way you squeeze his thick cock in surprise. “How many babies am I fuckin’ into you, my love?” 
Oh. Oh, shit. You weren’t making it out alive.
But were you really complaining? No.
Swallowing thickly, “Ah! Fuck, Kento- wan’ two.”
And maybe you’re a mastermind, maybe you’re an idiot. Because nowhere is the gentleman that you married, Nanami’s spitting on your quivering cunt once. Twice. Watching like a predator stalking his prey at the way it misses - purposefully, splattering against your inner thigh.
Smearing it all over your pussy and your panties - which he was too impatient, too starved - to remove. Messy. 
It’s all Nanami needed to do before he’s bottoming out completely. Pressing his forehead against yours in such a sweet motion, even though his hips were so mean. Drinking in your delirious whines as his heavy balls smack your ass. Over and over-
The duality making your head spin as he fucks his cute lil’ wife dumb, part of his sanity dancing away with his restraint every time your slutty hole sucks him up so deliciously. 
“Shit. More?” he grunts, sounding absolutely wrecked. Moaning at the way you tug at his hair, legs wrapping around his toned waist as if to urge him to go faster. Deeper. Begging. Begging him to ruin you. More more more- 
And, of course, what his girl wants - she gets. Because Nanami’s dragging his weeping tip across your swollen folds, all the way out till he’s collecting your sweet juices on his head. “Better take it like my good wife then.”
Then he’s pushing and pushing inside your tight pussy, but not like he was before. Jagged, desperate grinds of his hip - no adoration, no warmth. Just fucking you like his little slut, high off the idea of fucking his cum into you till you couldn’t walk. Till you were so full of him that he’s all you could think of. “We’ll have such beautiful babies, my love.” 
“Shit shit shit, Kento- yer gonna ruin me-” you’re whining, body torn between arching into Nanami’s unforgiving cock and running away. 
As if you ever had a chance - he was holding you so bruisingly by the hips, gasping into your mouth. “Shhh, that’s the point.”  Fucking you so filthy, each word punctuated by his out-of-control hips, so harsh and unfocused with lust that those tufts of blond at his base scratch your sensitive nub. And the feeling is so fucking obscene that you barely hear the words that follow. “You jus’ focus on taking care of my babies, n’ m’gonna be the one to ruin this pretty cunt- The one to fill you up- fuck. ”
Nanami throws his head back as you squeeze the soul out of his throbbing cock, so pent-up and needy that you’re creaming all over his cock already. And of course, Nanami isn’t any better - because with a strangled groan of your name, he’s cumming. Hard. almost painfully so. 
“N’ you’ll never be lonely, cuz everyone’s gonna see you and see me. I did that.” 
Jolts of electricity going all the way from his heavy balls to the thick, hot ropes of cumming filling your dripping pussy. Painting it all a desperate, desperate white.
And shit was Nanami an entirely different man tonight. Pulling out ever-so-slightly, only to admire his seed gushing out of you - so lewd and his. 
“Y’know what, my love, I don’t think two will be enough after all.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Pretty (and his)
“Awww, pretty baby.” Geto purrs, in such a dangerously low voice, smacking his tip - so red, and angry - all across your swollen folds. He bites his lip at the way his cum spills down your legs, pooling onto the hardwood floor with a deafening tap! tap! tap! “Y’want it so badly, huh?”
“Shit- hngh- please!”
You don’t know what you’re begging for - maybe release. Maybe mercy. Maybe to be anywhere but here - shoved against the wall right beside the front door, dress hiked up, almost your way to go clubbing with your friends before your beloved boyfriend had caught you. And stuffed you full of his cum, at least.
Whatever it is, Geto only gets messier, teasing your sloppy hole by slamming in - just barely grazing that one spot. And pulling out completely, watching you clench and glisten in the dim lighting. In. And out. In and out in and-
“Sugu!” you squeal, tired of the way he was having way too much making such a mess of your pussy. Swiping at your slick, and shoving his seed back into you - smirking at the obscene mess. 
“Mhm?” he nods absent-mindedly. Eyes flitting between your ravaged pussy and that absolutely adorable pout on your lips. Chuckling, “What~? If I cum in this cute pussy one more time, you’re sure to get pregnant, y’know.” 
Scoffing, “Shoulda thought of that when you came inside me the first time.”
Geto rolls his thumb over your sore clit - just as a little punishment - breath hot against your ear as he whispers raggedly.  “And are you complaining, gorgeous?”
“N-no…” 
“Then?”
He’s licking little circles at the crook of your neck now, in time with the maddening, frenzied patterns on your cunt. Enough friction to keep those pretty lil’ whines spilling from your swollen lips, but still teasing you just enough to have you bucking and keening onto his aching cock for more more more-
“Please! I jus’ want your cock, Sugu-”
All it takes is your broken little whimper, and it’s like something snapped - because Geto’s plunging into your plushy walls completely. Finally giving you an ounce of that friction you’ve been craving for so long. Only half the man he was once before while fucks into you deliriously. 
“F-fuck. Love it when you’re so messy f’me.” he’s hissing lowly, as if you could be anything but messy. As if he’s not pulling you back by the hair to bounce you like some slut, hips snapping mercilessly. As if he isn’t absolutely ruining you.
And maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have said something about the pure disrespect in his cock. Fucking you nothing like the sweet sweet whispers he was muttering in your ear, ragged and hoarse with desire.
“Gonna fill you up, huh? Give me some cute lil’ babies?” he groans,nibbling on your earlobe, fingers pressing down around your throat so the only response he gets are wet gurgles. Ones that go straight to his twitching balls, as Geto keeps running his mouth pussydrunk. “They better have your personality, don’ wanna share my pretty girl. Isn’t that right?”
So mean. Just babbling like you rarely get to see him - usually the ever-graceful Geto Suguru. Now, drunk on your tight pussy and the image of you with a little baby with black hair and him - there for it all. His perfect little family. 
“Gonna be the perfect momma, huh?” 
Geto only gets a broken little whimper in response - one that almost makes him want to go easy on you. Almost, instead, he settles for breathing out a ragged, “Fuck fuck fuck, yeah, gorgeous. Squeeze me s’tight like that - jus’ like that jus’ like that-” 
Trailing such a delicate finger up your legs, Geto pools that sinful mixture of your slick and his cum on his fingertips - before shoving them unforgivingly in your mouth. The slightly salty taste was so addictive on your tongue - and, hell, you aren’t even mad that you’re running late to meet your friends.
Smirking as you gag and mewl around him, he only gets sloppier. Faster. Licking a long, languid stripe up your neck, just knowing that he’s gonna cum inside your cute pussy harder than he has his whole life. Have your poor pussy bloated with him him him- “Now, yer gonna go to that lil’ party of yours jus’ like this. And everyone’s gonna know who you belong to.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Can’t help himself
“N-no, swear-” Choso lets out a broken little whimper into the crook of your neck. Feet flat on the bed, hips bucking up mindlessly over and over to where you were splayed out so prettily on top of him. So messy and dripping all over his glistening cock. “Gonna ngh- be the last one- I s-swear.”
You’ve heard this broken little mantra before - and you knew it wouldn’t end well for your poor pussy. Especially not with Choso bullying his weeping cock back into your snug cunt. “But, Cho!” you gasp, “We’re out of-”
He knows you’re out of condoms. But, really, does it matter?
Because shit were you like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him. And, well, here he was - completely pussydrunk, two rounds and a still rock-hard cock later. The only thing on his mind from then on was to not paint your pretty pussy white with his seed, no matter how much he wanted do. 
“Last time, baby. Promise I won’t cum inside.” And then he’s batting this long lashes so unfairly up at you. So fucking beautiful with his dark hair untied, lips swollen, eyes-half-hooded and miles away. And, well, how could you say no to that?
And you’ve barely gotten out your delirious little nod before Choso’s wrapping two strong arms around your waist, pulling you so intimately closer like he worshipped you - while he fucks your hot cunt like anything but. So hard that you knew it would leave marks - your nails on his chest, his balls on your ass, fingers on your waist. 
God, you were squeezing so desperately around him and he just thinks he might just cum right then and there. So fucking perfect that Choso knows he’s never buying another box of condoms ever again. 
“F-fuck, feels s’good. Love having you so deep n’ messy inside me.”
You were going to be the death of him.
“Hngh- fuck fuck fuck, yeah? You like that, baby?” he groans lowly. Abs burning and flexing each time he rams his cock into your tight pussy, absolutely loving the way you were leaking his cum all over the sheets. 
“Shit- I-” 
“Yes, Cho~?”
Face burning in embarrassment, choking pathetically on his words, Choso instead lets his hips do the talking. Strained whimpers of your name leaving him each time he bullies his painfully twitching cock through your plushy walls.
Voice cracking almost-embarrassingly at the end as he rambles, “Oh my god- y’feel so fucking good wrapped around me, baby. Wanna- hngh-” Trying his very best to sound like every cute lil’ whimper didn’t make his thoughts steer into the dangerous territory of how pretty you’d be with his kid. Of a little girl with dark hair and your eyes and-
You. His hips speeding up now, so sloppy with now rhyme or rhythm. How round and glowing you’d be with his kid. You, how everyone would know that he was that ruined your pretty pussy n’ got you this way. You, you, you-
“Wanna cum in this cute pussy, baby.” He finally confesses. Hips getting so messy - mindless, quick little jabs that have you keening on top of him, balls squeezing painfully. “Wanna fill y’up until you can’t take it anymore, fuck you so full until we have a pretty baby. Can I, baby? Please don’t say no please please-”
And at this point all you can do is whine and buck your hips to meet his merciless cadence, letting Choso crane his neck and kiss you senseless. “Fuck yeah. Thought you’d never ask-” you mutter, muffled around where he was sucking on your lips, like they were his favorite candy. “Want you to cum inside me, Cho.”
Well, you didn’t need to tell Choso twice because no sooner have the words left your lips before he’s giving you one harsh thrust. Veins throbbing against your gummy walls, again and again. 
Tears pricking his eyes as he cums with such a guttural grunt of your name. “Gonna have a pretty lil’ girl.” Both white-white pleasure and the image of you and him and his daughter flashing behind his eyes. “She’ll look just as beautiful as you, baby. N’ have your cute smile.”
Your own orgasm is nothing more than a few tingles, overstimulated and limp on top of Choso as stuffs you full of his seed. Thick, white ropes that gushing all the way out of your snug pussy, smearing all over his twitching balls. 
You could get used to this.
And it’s such a heavenly feeling that Choso barely registers his hips moving again, as if on instinct. Fucking mindlessly into you again. Again and again. Gasping, breath hot against your ear. 
“Only one more, baby. Promise.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - A reward
“F-fuck, woman” Sukuna grunts, fingers so bruising on your hips as you slide down his throbbing erection. Inch by fucking inch, keening at the delicious burn. “Y’act so innocent but you’ve got such a slutty lil’ pussy, huh?”
As expected, the only response he gets is an incoherent babble of agreement. Your eyes watering, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth as you struggle to take him. And his sharp eyes narrow in amusement at the sight of his painfully inexperienced consort’s pretty cunt sucking him up so eagerly. Hips stuttering and leaking your sweet, sweet so sloppily juices all over his thighs.
Humans were always such interesting little creatures.
“Tch.”
Slow ones, too, apparently.
Because immediately, Sukuna’s stuffing himself into your sloppy pussy as far as it would go. Groaning at the resitance, a large hand pumping his cock slowly - enticingly - as he fucks his hips in quick, shallow little thrusts, just to fit himself inside your snug cunt. 
And you needed to breathe in and out maybe, relax your plushy walls, but Sukuna wasn’t going to wait. Why would he? He had his favorite woman - not that he’d ever let you know - sat on his lap, legs spread so shamefully and bouncing on his thick cock.
“F-fuck.” his jaw falls slack ever so slightly, groaning at the feeble resistance against his massive cock. Still only half-inside you but still pushing relentlessly. “S’like your pussy was made f’me, brat. Milking me so well.”
“Shit shit shit- hah- ‘Kuna, feel s’good-” you gasp, thighs quivering with the pressure to meet his rough cadence. And Sukuna huffs out a low laugh at your audacity to call his name, feeling charitable enough today to forgive this transgression. 
Instead toying with your pretty clit, pinching and rolling between his thick fingers, loving the way you buck and squeal his name. 
“Hmm, feels good?” he hums dangerously, amused at your barely-lucid little nod. Fucking into you like his personal fucktoy - his favorite one. “Good ‘nough to give me an heir?”
At this your eyes snap open - but not for long because you just have to screw them shut again with Sukuna finally bottoming out in a quick, harsh thrust. Splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his cock, veins throbbing a maddening little bump! bump! bump! matching your heartbeat. 
You barely have the time to breathe out a sigh of relief before he’s fucking into you. Unforgivingly. Like the monster he claims to be. All the blood draining into his achingly dick at the idea of fucking his cum into you until you couldn’t walk. 
And he tells you - chuckling at the cute lil’ ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time his fat head hits your cervix. “Y’want that, my little slut? To be my cute plaything to breed? Help m’make the next king of curses?”
Fuck, you don’t know if you’re reeling more from the way he was ramming his cock into you or the way he was talking to you in that mean little tone. 
“Mmm- yes! Yes yes yes!”
“Use your words.”
“Wan’-” you hiccup, batting your lashes at him so tearily, in a way that makes Sukuna’s heart thump so strangely. An uneven little beat matching the led rhythm of his hips. “Wan’ your cum- gonna give you a kid.”
So cockdrunk and delirious, you barely register the way he wrestles your arms behind your back, using it like leverage to bounce you harder and harder on his cock. Only looking up at him with such cute lil’ heart eyes as Sukuna uses you as he pleases. 
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck yeah?‘ he gasps into your open mouth. Teeth latching onto the crook of your neck, biting down right over your pulse. Dangerous. “Gonna make me an heir so powerful. Have him treat you like a queen n’ kill everyone that doesn’t? Ya like that, my lil’ slut?”
“Shit- ah- I want that s’bad, ‘Kuna.”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
And oh how pretty you look, cunt clenching and all surprised at the knock on the door - some lowly human here to beg for their life, maybe. But it doesn’t matter, because Sukuna’s only licks away the big, fat tears streaming down your cheek, hips burning while he breeds you like some animal. Hard, and almost violent.
So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same, breathless and shaking on Sukuna’s lap while he fill you with his hot seed. Thick and intoxicating. Hips unstopping, just animalistic little movements from such a carnal part of himself. Over and over-
And you’re so fucking drunk off of your lord’s cock that you barely even realize when he’s thumbing your ravaged cunt open. Letting his cum drip all the way down to his gaudy throne, on full display for whoever was about to-
“Come in.”
It’s adorable how you try to scramble off his lap, trying - and failing - to cover yourself up as the door cracks open. 
“Not yet, woman.” Sukuna grasps you in an iron-hold grip, dangerously sharp nails tethering right at your throat and your hips. Starting to drag you up and down on his swollen cock once more with no concern or care for whoever was about to enter. “Gotta make sure it takes.”
It was filthy. 
Completely debauched. And exactly where you wanted to be. You and your lord - and maybe your future heir, too.
♡ GOJO SATORU - Give ‘em what they want!
“Hah- f-fuck imagine- Imagine I fucked the next s-strongest into you right now.”
Oh. 
You knew by the look in his eyes that something was off - that something hadn’t gone well in that meeting with the elders. Really, it was a miracle he attended in the first place, but somehow you had an inkling that this was the type of something that would have you needing a miracle.
That was three hours ago.
And fuck did you need a miracle - because Gojo had you splayed out on top your office desk, his cum spreading in a pool beneath, you throbbing cock stuffing in and out of your snug cunt while you try not to alert the entirety of Jujutsu High about how needy the great Gojo Satoru was being right now.
Gojo’s ramming his swollen dick into your poor, overstimulated pussy like he was drunk off the sight of you all cockdrunk and in a tight mating press. Moaning at the sting of painfully hard erection twitching inside you, and your nails running down his back. 
Not even bothering to let you adjust this time before he’s fucking you again and again and-
You think it’s a bit unfair, really. Because who were you against the strongest? Well, the pretty lil’ wife who’s going to give him his successor, apparently. 
“Shit- wouldn’t that be funny?” he lets out a humorless laugh, wrestling your legs further and further apart. Eyeing the way you suck him up lewdly, “If I made my kid the strongest n’ just wiped these old fossils out?”
“T-Toru- we’ll get ca-”
“Caught? Who fuckin’ cares, they want a Gojo successor n’ they’re gonna get one.”
He’s letting out his frustration in the way he chases both your highs for the - well, you lost count which orgasm it was at this point. Letting you stain all over the expensive desk as he yells out little curses into your mouth.
And oh how you want to kiss that little furrow in his brow, to whisper away his stress - but, no, the only thing getting Gojo out of this bad mood was to fully and thoroughly ruin his girl’s cute lil’ cunt. 
But Toru-” you sob into his open mouth, hips bucking wildly for more. “What if I can’t give you the strongest…” You know you’re babbling deliriously, little insecurities you didn’t even know you had coming to the surface as it really hits you that shit this is your Gojo. And he’s here. And he’s fucking you until he’s sure you’re pregnant.
“Who gives a shit?” he licks away the big, fat tears streaking down your face. Salty on his tongue while he plays with your pretty clit, rubbing quick, tight little circles on it. 
As if to emphasize his point, Gojo brings his fingertips to his mouth with a lewd pop! So blissfully wrapping his lips around them. Darkened blue eyes rolling to the back of his head at the taste - it only spurs him on more. 
Fingers immediately back down on your clit. Frenzied - like he couldn’t wait any longer, like it killed him to not see you cum again. Body bowing into yours, hand digging and bruising on your hips as he holds your filthy pussy still on his cock, 
“Fuck, gonna give it all to you, sweetheart. M’gonna train them to be the strongest n’ protect their pretty mommy.” 
Sloppy, he was so fucking sloppy - such a mess of teeth and spit and pure desire to paint your walls white. 
“Gonna have my eyes, huh? N’ your hair. Fuck they’re gonna regret bringing this up.” Babbling little nonsenses that drove you mad. He sounded so fucking pathetic, crazed with lust. “Ooooh they’re gonna regret it.” Overstimulated enough that it hurt.
Kissing the side of your ankle beside his head, lacing his fingers together to pull you further and further down his rock-hard cock. Sloppy and moving with no rhyme or reason. “Because they fucking hate me. All of ‘em will look at our kid n’ you - so round and pretty and see me. All me.” 
Now, you’ve heard of orgasms that come out of nowhere - ones that have you convulsing and gripping onto Gojo - the desk, his shoulders, his hair. And this was no different. “Ah! Hngh, Toru m’cumming m’cumming oh-”
Delirious, white-hot pleasure cracking behind his eyes, Gojo’s pumping hot thick, hopes ropes of cum into your poor, overfilled pussy. And shit no thrill of taking out the elders could compare to watching the way his seed drips down the side. Slow, and thick, pooling at his quivering balls as he fucks you like an animal. Over and over and-
“Hey, sweetheart, y’think if I cum in you again, they’ll come out twice as strong?”
“...”
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
18K notes · View notes
reyalvr · 3 months
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SHE'S MINE | 01
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I'M ALL IN, I CAN'T REVERSE IT-
synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 
genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut
pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader
warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan
word count ┊  3.2k
author’s note ┊ WOOHOO part one finally out! thank you so much for all the love on the prologue, it made me so motivated to make this as good as possible hehe >.< each chapter title is based off of a lyric in my writing playlist for this series, lmk if you guys would like me to drop it  ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. happy reading!
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KEN KNEW HE WAS IN DEEP SHIT. Knee deep, even. If you asked him what was going through his head thirty seconds ago, he wouldn’t be able to tell you even if he wanted to. Everything that happened next was a blur- from shaking hands with the host to walking back to his dressing room, it felt like he was operating on autopilot. Who wouldn’t be, though? He had just announced to the world that he was officially taken; that he was off the market- hooked. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem if it were true…
But it wasn’t. 
He had just lied to an audience of a hundred people- not to mention the millions throughout the various streaming platforms the show was being aired on. His nails dug into his palm as he neared his dressing room, the bold, black letters of his name growing larger and larger each step he took. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt chill down his spine the moment he opened the door. No one could blame him though, not if they knew the inevitable wrath they were about to face. 
You were stood there, eyes narrowed and resting all your weight on your hip. Your arms were crossed, your lips were pursed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other as you waited for the other to speak up. Ken swallowed nervously, tapping his foot as he tried formulating an explanation. He wasn’t entirely sure as to why he was so overstrung, it was just you. Why should he be terrified of your scolding on his recent screw up? 
“Special someone, huh?” You said through your teeth, finally breaking the tense silence in the room. “So special that nobody on your team knew of her prior to your public love confession?” 
Ah. That was why. The way you were able to see right through him scared him sometimes. He never outwardly showed his reactions, though- at least he tried not to. He cleared his throat before finally moving to plop down on the couch, doing his damndest not to show his jitters. 
“Yeah, yeah whatever. I lied, so what?” He replied, his cocky tone masking the unsureness in his words. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.” 
Strike one. As if you couldn’t have been any more pissed off, that seemed to be the tipping point. You paused before letting out a deep breath, circling around him. He closed his eyes when he knew you were behind him, and he waited for you to berate him; to remind him of the consequences of his actions. He waited, but it never came. He opened one eye, and he relaxed when you moved to sit on the opposite couch. He was spared… for now.
“What, no scolding?” He decided to test, tilting his head to the side as he watched you. 
You only let out a small laugh, and somehow that was worse than any scolding he’d ever received from you. You were oddly calm, like all your anger had just melted away. Leaning forward, you slid an enclosed piece of paper across the table towards him. 
“Can you guess what this is, Ken?” You ask, your eyes finally looking back up to meet his. 
Ken knew not to answer. He was ready to spit out some witty reply, but the look in your eyes told him that this was going to go down another route; one that he definitely didn’t want to aggravate. 
“It’s my resignation letter.” You say nonchalantly, causing him to straighten up once more. “I keep it handy.”
Resignation letter? Was this real? Were you actually going to quit over this? He opened his mouth to speak up but quickly shut it when you maintained your soul-searching gaze. He tried to relax, yet the furrow in his eyebrows seemed to stay as you continued on. 
“I’m going to be very clear on what’s going to happen next, Ken.” You say, resting your arms on your knees. “This will be the last time I help you clear up a mishap. After everything is settled, I’m gone.” 
Gone. His eyes widened slightly, the palms of his hands starting to get clammy. He let out a light, nervous laugh, looking at you as if you had just said something absurd. Which, in his defense, you sort of did. Again, he had no idea why this news was so shocking to him, seeing as you’d only worked under him for a year and a half. Surely he couldn’t have been that terrible, right? He stared at the folded paper in front of him before speaking up.
“What, uh, what do you mean gone?” He asked through a breathy laugh. “Gone like a break or something? I’m happy to give you one-”
“Gone as in I quit.” You cut him off, standing up as you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt. “Like I said, this is the last time I clean up your mess, Ken Sato.” 
You moved to walk away, but he quickly caught your arm. “Woah, hold on a sec,” He stood up, looking down at you with stunned eyes. “Quit? C’mon, [Y/N] I know I screwed up but you can’t just leave me hanging like this-” 
You scoffed at him then, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Oh I can’t leave you hanging, huh? Tell me, Ken, how many times have I saved your ass in the last eighteen months I’ve been working for you, hm?”
He swallowed dryly as he tried to recall. He was used to having his name on headlines, most especially after his move last year. He couldn’t go five seconds without seeing his ads pop up on his platforms, hell he couldn’t even go five blocks without seeing a billboard with his face on it. Which all brought him back to one thing: not one negative scandal under his name. With you, he was perfect; jack of all trades in the MLB and the internet’s favorite spokesperson. 
Shit. Strike two. 
You only hummed in response once you read over his expression. “Exactly. So the next time you even think about downplaying my job, remember how I was the reason for your recent success.”
Ken was at a loss for words. Rarely was he ever left speechless, he always seemed to have a response ready for anything. But now was definitely not one of those times. He watched as you bent down to retrieve that dreaded letter, and you shoved it into his chest before moving to finally walk past him. 
“Our flight leaves tomorrow at five a.m, I'll see you in the lobby at three.” You say, not so much as sparing him a glance as you fixed your bag. 
He managed to let out a quiet ‘okay’, gripping onto your letter tightly as he watched you pack up. Damn Ken, you really did it this time, didn’t you? He thought to himself, wondering how- or rather, if he would be able to make things right with you. For the first time in his career, he was thinking about someone else other than himself. 
“Oh and Ken,” You say, breaking him out of his dazed stance. 
“Hm?” He hummed out, averting his gaze to be level with yours. 
“You had better pray that the next assistant you get is half as good as I am.” You said before closing the door, leaving him alone in his dressing room. All of a sudden it felt… quiet. Too quiet. He sighed, dropping down on the couch once more before closing his eyes and masking his face with his hands.
Strike three. 
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THE TENSION IN THE CAR WAS PAINSTAKINGLY PALPABLE. Ken’s leg bounced as the two of you were stuck in airport traffic, the car unmoving for nearly half an hour now. Your occasional sighs and the hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds filling the air. He felt like he was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly the night before thanks to your bombshell of an announcement. In comparison, though, he probably shouldn’t be complaining about bombshells when he himself dropped one twice the size of yours. 
Still, he was restless. You hadn’t uttered a single word to him since landing back in Tokyo, and the unwanted solitude was driving him nuts. He glanced over at you through his shades, noting the way you were impatiently tapping your fingers against the wheel. Obviously you were still pissed at his little stunt, and the articles following the incident didn’t aid in calming your anger. 
He knew it wasn’t smart, but he needed to talk to you. The sea of red lights in front of him remained stagnant, and he didn’t want to spend another minute in this deafening quietude. He gnawed at his bottom lip before finally breaking the silence. 
“Can we talk?” He said, looking over at you. 
“No.” You replied bluntly.
“[Y/N]-” He started, but one glance from you was enough to shut him up. 
“I am doing you a huge favor by helping you solve the mess you created.” You said as you looked back at the road ahead of you, lifting your fingers and circling your thumbs around the wheel. “I could’ve left right then and there, leaving you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”
You looked back up at him, and only now did he notice the circles under your eyes and the paleness of your complexion. Something inside him twisted; he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret. Guilt, probably, for having to rely on you to correct his mistakes, and regret for even causing this whole debacle in the first place. 
“The least I’m asking from you is your compliance.” You say tiredly, the glint in your eyes doing most of the talking. 
“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He managed to get out, leaning back into the passenger seat. 
And just like that, the dreaded silence was back. By some miracle the traffic started to gain some speed, the taillights of the cars ahead of him dispersing onto the road. His head hit the back of the headrest, and he sat through the entire ride back to the Tokyo Dome contemplating his recent choices. 
It was only when you knocked on the window of the passenger side when he realized he had finally reached his destination. He got out, stretching his limbs after being cramped inside the car for so long. He threw on his jacket lazily, not even bothering to zip it up. He went to put on his cap, but then he noticed something odd. 
It was quiet outside the building, the bristle of the trees and the nearby roads the only sound filling his ears. There was something lacking; the neverending shuttering sounds of cameras and eager voices yelling at him to look or to say something. He realized then the lack of paparazzi and reporters outside to greet him, just like they usually did whenever he came back from a trip. His head turned, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Not a single one in sight.
“‘Something wrong?” You asked as you walked past him to swipe your ID into the security system. 
“It’s just,” He said, still looking around in confusion. He let out an airy laugh as he followed you inside, the expression on his face remaining the same. “There’s no paps or anything.”
At that you laugh, albeit sarcastically, waiting for him to get into the elevator. “You know that might be the first time I’ve ever heard a famous person complain about not being bombarded by ill-intent people.” 
“I’m not complaining, trust me.” He says, putting his hands up halfway in defense. “It’s weird. That’s all.” 
“Well that’s what happens when people think you’re spending time with your special someone after being away for so long.” You say, pulling up a press announcement on your phone. 
For a split second, Kenji had completely forgotten that he had to keep up the fact that he supposedly had a significant other waiting for him at home. He let out an ‘ah’, sliding his hands into his pockets as the elevator went up. Again his heart panged, finally realizing why your eyebags were deeper than they usually were. While he may have had discomfort in his slumber, it didn’t compare to the hours you were up trying to get everything settled here.
You held the door open to your office, letting him in first. Once the lights were on, he was greeted with your infamous whiteboard, different scribbles of colorful ink filling up the space corner to corner. He cringed at the bolded date of the talk show he was on. 
“Your bags will be sent here in the next hour, and valet has your bike ready.” You say, doing the usual routine you did whenever the both of you came back from work trips. He sat down on the sofa, nodding each time you reminded him of something. 
“Now, about the issue,” You walk over to the whiteboard, erasing its contents. “We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” 
He choked on nothing, not surprised by the news but surprised by the continued bluntness of your tone. “I beg your pardon?”
“We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” You repeated, emphasizing the words obnoxiously. 
“Yeah I get that,” He finally replied, a look of uncertainty splashing his features. “But you’re making it sound like all we need to do is shop around.”
“Well unless you can give me a face, let alone a name to your special someone, this is the plan we have.” You retort, resting a hand at your hip as the other points at the board. 
“Why can’t I just be one of those celebrities who keep their relationship private?” He questions genuinely. 
“Oh I’m sorry, who was the one who announced that they were in love on live television?” You remind him, annoyance laced in your words. 
He bites back any sort of sarcastic remark that conjures up in the back of his head. You were right, obviously you were right. But some part of him felt it was… unfair to not have a say in this. Stupid, yes, but it’s how he felt.
“Can I continue or is there anything else you want to unnecessarily add?” You ask, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. 
He only lifted a hand, signaling for you to carry on. You go on to explain that whoever ends up “dating” him will need to have to go through a contract signing, NDA included. You draw up charts on your board, showing him the possible stats of his ratings if he’ll be able to pull this off. 
“Your next playoff season is about to start, I suggest we get all this settled by then.” You scroll on your smartwatch, looking at the calendar. “It gives me two weeks to plan everything out. I need you here tomorrow bright and early so that we can go through a list of potential candidates.”
“Candidates? What is this, speed-dating?” He says, making a face at all the analytical parts of your plan. 
“No, it’s a game called ‘save-my-reputation.’” You answer snarkily, narrowing your eyes slightly at him. 
He takes in a deep breath, starting to get annoyed with your remarks. He knew he had no right to, but to think that you were just dictating away at his choices made him feel like some sort of plaything. 
“I just don’t understand why we even need to find a ‘girlfriend’ in the first place.” He massages the back of his head before crossing his arms. “I mean everyone thinks I’ve successfully hidden my love life up until now, what’s the point of going all out?”
He could see you clench your fingers around the marker, and he knew he was close to reaching your tipping once more. All in the span of twenty-four hours. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke up.
“Ken. You told the world that you were in love.” You say in an eerily calm tone. “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it. And unless you want to say goodbye to your stardom, this is what you need to do.” 
He opened his mouth to speak up but was cut off by your phone’s ringing. You answered, spewing out a quick and formal ‘thank you’ to whoever was on the other line. You sighed, placing your marker back down on your desk before you walked past him towards the glass door. 
“Your bags are here.” You say, opening the door. “Your bike’s parked outside and everything should be good to go.” 
Your demeanor had changed in a split second, going from PR manager to assistant in the blink of an eye. At times Ken wondered how you were able to juggle everything. It wasn’t the main thing that was on his mind, he had… other, more serious things to worry about. Like the other secret he had kept from you all this time; Ultraman. He shook his head, trying not to focus on his double life on top of the situation he was in. 
Ken knew that your words were a sign to get up and get out, and he did just that. You followed him all the way back down to the lobby of the stadium, handing him his duffel bag and walking him to his bike. Despite your earlier mood, you did your checks on his motorbike that he had grown accustomed to after a while. 
“Tomorrow, bright and early.” You remind him, crossing your arms as he got on his bike. “Please.”
“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He repeats through a huff, slinging his bag into the compartment attached to the back of his motorbike. “Got it.” 
You only hummed in response, turning away to walk back into the stadium. He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but before he knew it he was grabbing your arm softly once more. Your head spun around to look at him, more of your stray hairs spilling out of your updo. At this angle the sunset brought out the shininess of your eyes, the early evening shadows accentuating your features. 
He swallowed before he continued. “You know for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.” 
Instead of another curt response, though, you sighed as you pressed your lips together. He lets go of your arm then, not wanting to invade anymore of your personal space than he already has. He can see you poke your tongue into your cheek, a habit you did when you were in contemplation. 
“Well,” You finally breathe out, your expression relaxing. “If you’re actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.” 
“‘Course.” He says before his face gets obscured by his helmet. He nods towards your direction once more before finally revving the engine. 
Only time will tell what the outcome is, but whatever it is, he hopes he ends up in the one where you don’t loathe his very being. 
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reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.
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tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp
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tetsvya · 4 months
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clueless, kuroo tetsuro
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  kuroo tetsuro has a thing for girls with long hair. so what if you're a girl with long hair? that doesn’t mean anything!
➼ pairing! kuroo tetsuro x fem!manager!reader
➼ warnings! none, just fluff and humor. maybe ooc because i haven't written in years??? unfortunately, because this is based on the scene of kuroo and yaku arguing about their preference, this is really for my long haired girlies 😣 i apologize to the short haired readers
➼ word count! about 1.4k
➼ author’s note! "haikyuu renassiance!" we all cheer in unison. anywho, this is my first time posting in two years. please be nice to me 🫡
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"So, you prefer girls with short hair then, Yaku?" Kai asks, shedding off the white button-up of his school uniform and revealing his black practice t-shirt. The three third-year Nekoma players had found themselves in an empty classroom, deciding to use it as a makeshift changing room. Luckily for them, they had all worn their clean practice clothes under their school uniforms. Doing so allowed them to save time and cut back the number of minutes they were already going to be late to practice, thanks to Yaku getting distracted by a group of girls, which Kai noted all had short hair. Hence, his question.
Yaku paused his work of ridding himself of his tie to send Kai a proud grin, pointing towards him with both hands, “Yesss!
"And you, Kuroo?" Kai turns to him, now curious to know his captain's answer as well.
"Long." Kuroo's answer is firm, leaving no room for debate. Still, he glances at Yaku, as if daring him to try.
Yaku only snorts, shaking his head in amusement as he too turns to look at his captain, "Like that wasn't obvious."
"Ehh," Kuroo's eyes narrow, head craning down to peer at the libero, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Yaku starts, taking a step closer as he peers right back up at Kuroo, "Everyone knows you have a crush on our manager, who just so happens to have the longest hair I've ever seen!"
"Ehh?" Kuroo repeats, louder this time as he cranes his head down even more, "Who says I have a crush—"
"Hey!" The door to the classroom slides open with a shocking force, startling the boys and drawing the attention of all three of them to it. Kuroo and Yaku both grow rigid as they find you standing in its opening. Quiet pants slip past your lips, and you take a moment to catch your breath as you stare at the three of them before you begin speaking, "There you guys are! I've been looking for the three of you everywhere."
"Hello," Kai greets kindly, the only one not left in a stupor at your sudden appearance, smiling as you make your way into the classroom. "We apologize, we're running a bit late."
"Yeah," You huff, coming to a stop a few steps away from them as you cross your arms, "It was your guys' turn to set up the nets. So when you guys didn't show up in time to do so and none of you answered your phones, Coach sent me to find you guys. Didn't know I'd be going on a wild goose chase."
Your words leave you in a huff before your eyes land on Kuroo, raising an eyebrow at the captain. His shoulders tense even more at the sudden eye contact and he's quick to snap his head in the other direction. Kuroo suddenly feels warm, realizing how you could have easily heard the conversation transpiring between the three of them. Stupid Yaku, Kuroo curses the libero in his head, doesn't even know what he's talking about.
"Sorry, Y/N." And of course it’s Yaku who disrupts his thoughts, pulling Kuroo's eyes to him just as he sends you an innocent smile, "We got carried away, talking."
There's a teasing tone to Yaku's voice, and Kuroo knows it's directed at him. Why is he friends with him again?
"I don't even want to know," You speak, and Kuroo can envision you shaking your head at the three of them, "Just get dressed and get to the gym as quick as possible, please."
All three boys give some noise of recognition in response to your words, and Kuroo takes the chance to glance at you then. He's quick to regret it. Your hand rises just as he locks eyes with you, reaching up to tuck some of the more unruly pieces of your hair (which most likely came undone due to your seemingly frantic search of the three third years) behind your ear and out of your face. Kuroo's eyes follow the movement of your hand, trailing downwards and taking in the long strands of hair that fall well past your shoulders. Once again all too aware of the conversation he was just having with his teammates, the tips of his ears burn as he pulls his gaze away from you once more. He shakes his head, trying to get Yaku's words out of his mind. Just because he liked girls with long hair, and just because you so happened to be a girl with long hair, did not mean he liked you.
Right?
A snort of laughter suddenly leaves Yaku, having caught the interaction, and Kuroo turns to him with a heated glare. You don't miss the exchange between them either.
"Are you two having one of your petty arguments again?" You accuse, eyes glancing between Kuroo and Yaku who are suddenly staring back at you like two deers caught in headlights. "Seriously, you've been fighting like this since first year. What topic could you guys possibly still be discussing?"
Yaku's smirk returns as he glances at his captain with an all too knowing look before he turns back to you, "Well, if you really want to kn—"
"Nope!" Kuroo is quick to interject, speaking for the first time since you entered and drawing your attention away from Yaku and back to the captain himself. Your eyes widen as he begins to take long strides in your direction. "No arguing here!"
Your lips part, confusion taking over your features at the odd behavior your captain is displaying. You don't get the chance to say anything, however, as Kuroo makes a show of glancing at the clock on the wall before turning back to you with a dramatic gasp, "Oh, would you look at the time! We should really be heading to practice."
"You still have your school shirt on, Kuroo.” You point out when he stops in front of you, pointedly glancing down at Kuroo's attire, which consisted of his practice shorts and white button-up, with his red school tie hung loosely around his neck.
"I'll just change it once we're in the gym," Kuroo responds, waving away your interjections before he drops his hands onto your shoulders and forces you to turn around and back toward the door. You attempt to dig your heels down when he begins to push you in the direction of the door, but you're truly no match for his strength. Stupid volleyball training.
"Kuroo," You voice your protests, attempting to swat at his hands in order to get him to release you. Once again, your attempts remain futile, "Let go of me!"
"No can do! As captain and manager, it's our job to be on time to every practice. What would our team do without us?" Kuroo shakes his head, clicking his tongue as if he's scolding you. He turns back to Kai and Yaku, flashing them a warning smile, daring them to say another word. Yaku merely watches on with an unamused look, while Kai holds a placid smile. There's extra sweetness in his voice as he practically chirps out, "Bring my stuff to the club room, will you?"
"I was on time!" You retort, not giving Kai nor Yaku a chance to respond to their exasperating captain as you send them a pointed look, all the while succumbing to your fate and allowing Kuroo to push you out of the classroom. After all, he did have a point. It probably wouldn't be long before Lev managed to push somebody's buttons (most likely Yamamoto’s) one too many times and ended up in hot water. "The only reason I'm not there right now is because I came looking for you guys!"
"Ah, now is not the time to deal blame, Y/N. Our juniors are waiting on us." Kuroo argues back, shaking his head as he removes one hand from your shoulder to slide the door shut behind the two of you. Still, Yaku and Kai face the door as the sound of your guys' bickering persists. It grows quieter and quieter with each passing moment, and it isn’t until they can no longer hear your guys' voices does Yaku glance away with a shake of his head.
"He's clueless." Yaku deadpans, glancing back down at his tie as he continues to work on untying it.
Kai nods, neatly folding his button-up before placing it in his bag. "Completely."
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5K notes · View notes
nanaslutt · 11 months
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gojo and vibrator overstim??? he pleasures u like crazy after u guys go to a party and he sees a lot of guys checking u out, but instead of taking it out on u he decides he just wants to worship u😭😭 and he makes u cum a lot of times dkslmds idk
When your girlfriend is too hot for her own good ft. satoru gojo x reader
this is the longest thing i’ve ever written i absolutely loved this prompt..
contains: fem reader, established relationships, whipped!gojo, jealousy, perv!npc’s, vibrators, sooooo much dirty talk, praise, like a ridiculous amount, body worship, cockwarming, overstimulation, mating press, multiple orgasms, no condoms in sight, breeding kink if u squint, squirting for the first time, domestic af
MDNI
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After Gojo finished zipping up your dress and hooking the clips at the top to secure it for you, he slapped your ass, grabbing the fat in his palms, “Goddd, i’m so fucking lucky,” he sighed dramatically.
Sliding his large hands around to the front of your body and cradling your hips, resting his head on your shoulder while he admired your current look.
Makeup applied just right, not a glitter of highlight out of place, hair styled in a way that gave his intruding eyes free roam to admire back of your neck, dress fitted perfectly to your body, accentuating every curve and dip of your perfect stature.
Opting to wear your shorter heels because knowing satoru, you two would be at this “party” for a very long time.
Everyone always wanted to talk to Satoru every time he showed himself in public. It was no suprise, considering his popularity throughout the jujutsu world from his incredible technique and strength; maybe a little from his blunt and childish personality too; and non jujutsu sourcerers we’re quick to swarm him from just his handsome looks alone.
Eyes that lit up any room, a perfectly symmetrical and slim face that looked like it had been hand chiseled from the finest stones, and his snowy white hair to top it all off. Satoru always getting asked the same question from girls and guys alike, flirtation laced in their voice when they spoke, “So, is that your natural hair color??”
His height sure didn’t help in making him any less invisible than he already wasn’t.
You two didn’t attend parties or anything of the sort too frequently though, usually only making an appearance at certain events when you had to.
This time it was a little different. Shoko had insisted on Gojo trying out this new club she started to frequent, rambling about how the ambience was just perfect; of course she didn’t fail to mention the high quality liquor they housed in the process.
Satoru hadn’t been to a club in a minute, since he started going out with you. Not seeing the need to anymore.
He only went to clubs before to let off steam after a particularly hard mission, letting some stranger dry hump him on the dance floor, or drinking some too-sweet non alcoholic drink with shoko at the bar, complaining about his day.
He never took any of the strangers home though, he just needed to get out of his head, letting the lights, shitty blaring music, and sweaty bodies overstimulate his mind for a night.
Then he found you. Perfect, sweet, little you. He found that he much rather would wrap his arms around you in the comfort of his quiet, familiar home, and lay on your breasts while you ran your fingers through his hair.
Nails raking comfortingly over his scalp as the stressors of his day melted from his brain. Why was he even stressed again?
See? This was a hundred times better than the club.
But when shoko was insistent, she was thoroughly insistent.
When you stepped through the thick doors of the establishment, guided by satoru’s comforting palm on your lower back, you couldn’t help but notice this felt a lot more lax than what you were expecting.
Music not overbearing, people mingling with each other, and weirdly seeing a lot of familiar faces in the crowd.
“Satoru, where are we right now? I thought this was a club.” you asked, tilting your head up at him while he led you in the direction of the bar, to get you something to loosen you up; he knew how you got antsy at these things sometimes.
“Ah, I didn’t explain very well did I?” he giggled, “Thisss,” gojo paused to splay his arm out in front of him, “Is where Jujutsu sourcerers come to relax!” that explains why you saw so many familiar faces…
“I think that’s why Shoko loves this place so much, people tend to stay away from her here..” pursing his lips pretending to think, “She can be quite intimidating when you know her..” he finished, shaking his head dramatically like he was trying to forget a scary memory.
“Anyways, how are you feeling sweet thing? wanna get a drink first?” Your handsome boyfriend asked you, hand still resting against your back as he gave you a little smile.
“Yeah I uh-“ looking over Gojo’s shoulder before continuing, “I think that blonde guy is trying to get your attention.” pausing your response to your boyfriend as you tipped your head forward, signaling behind gojo.
He turned his neck, shoulders perking up when his eyes focused on the man, “Yooo! How’s it goin!” Gojo waved his free hand at the man as he chirped cheerfully at him. “Was sent on a mission with him once when i was a third year, some ‘rival school bonding’ activity.” he explained.
“Looks like it worked,” you laughed, bringing your hand down to pat him on his firm behind, “You should go talk to him, it sounds like you haven’t seen him in a while.” Encouraging him, starting to slip out from his hold.
“You sure baby?” he asked, slightly pouting, not wanting you to feel awkward or neglected by yourself. God satoru was so sweet. You laughed at his antics before smiling fondly, reassuring him, “I’ll be okay toru, jus’ gonna go make myself at home on a bar stool.”
Gojo gripped your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he started off for his old acquaintance. Your heels clicked on the ground as you made your way over to the bar in the other direction satoru had gone off in.
You ordered yourself a drink, something sweet, and not too strong, just something to relax your nerves as you were now by yourself in a space you’ve never been before.
Just when you started thinking you should go make small talk with someone there, a tall man walked up to you, noticing the few buttons on his shirt undone. For some reason this made him look less intimidating; you were already walking around like there was a stick up your ass, so seeing someone look a little more laid back eased your nerves a bit.
He introduced himself, giving your figure a quick one over that you missed as you stuck your hand out for the man to shake, introducing yourself politely back.
The two of you got lost in conversation, talking about how harboring your jobs were, the only common subject you thought of to talk about with the stranger.
Gojo had made himself comfortable on the halfmoon sofa adjacent to the bar, conversing with a small crowd now, all catching up and laughing with each other.
After maybe half an hour or so, when the conversation was diverged away from him, he averted his gaze to you, watching you giggle at something the dark haired man said.
He didn’t recognize him, but he did recognize the hungry look he had on his face. The same one gojo had whenever he looked at you.
You looked completely oblivious to the man’s gaze as you continued ranting, the alcohol obviously having some affect on you, looking so relaxed while you talked to him.
Gojo couldnt take his eyes off of the scene in front of him for the life of him. People around gojo’s voices starting to become distorted at he channeled 110% of his focus onto you.
Giving a quick glance around the room and catching two guys staring at your ass. The way you were perched on the stool, body leaned into the counter a bit, making your back arch, poking your backside out in association, made you look incredibly seductive.
One of the men elbowed the other in the ribs, making him look at the sight he was witnessing; that of which being your body.
Gojo stared at them like if he tried hard enough, he could make them go blind with his mind.
Satoru would never in a million years stop you from wearing something you wanted out of the house; scandalous or not.
He loved seeing you feel good in your body, so if that meant wearing nipple pasty’s and a fishnet bodysuit out of the house? so be it, he would be in his rightful place on your hip the whole time.
But right now, he really wished everyone would stop looking at what was his.
He knew you looked good, you always did, but that didn’t give these sleazeball’s the right to oggle you like a piece of meat.
Bringing his attention back to you and the man you were conversing with, he noticed his hand had placed itself on the side of your stool, dangerously close to your thigh.
His lip twitched at the thought of his filthy hands touching your sacred body.
Giving a one over to the people around him once more and realizing that a lot more than just the man you were talking to and the 2 sluts objectifying you in the corner were passing glances at you.
“Gojo? you good?” His old acquaintance asked skeptically when he realized the veins looked like they were threatening to burst in gojos hands as he squeezed at the arm of the sofa.
Satoru stood up without saying so much as a goodbye to the people he was with, not caring about how rude or disrespectful he came off, as he quickly made his way over to your side of the room.
“Haha, I agree,” the man laughed a little to hard at something you said that truthfully wasn’t all that funny, “Mind if I get you another drink cute thing? Looks like you finished that one.” he flirted.
Finally picking up at his flirtations you started to reply, “Oh! uh.” uncomfortably shifting in your seat at the pet name, suddenly way to aware of his hand on your stool next to your leg. When did it even get there?
Looking over to where Satoru was supposed to be, eyes widening slightly, when the familiar face was nowhere to be found.
“Sorry cute thing, did i scare ya?” gojo mimicked the man across from you, staring daggers into his eyes with his intimidating orbs as he wrapped his arms around your body, large frame towering behind you.
“Satoru! jus’ figured you went to the bathroom or somethin’” you said, rubbing his hand that was placed on your torso with your thumb affectionately.
“Uh we were having a conversation.” the man interrupted your affections to one another, not listening to Satoru’s very obvious hints that you were not on the market. He figured he would make it a little more obvious for the strangers dense little head.
“Sorry buddy, i’m not feeling too well right now, so I need my cute little girlfriend to take me home.” emphasizing the nature of your relationship as he pouted his lip fakely at him.
“Not feelin good toru?” you asked, turning your neck around to look at him, face full of concern.
He felt his heart skip a beat at your worried tone. “Yeah ‘m sorry baby, you looked like you were havin a good time, but I really wanna get outta here.” overwhelming eyes glancing over the room, scaring off each and every last person’s ravenous stares on your body.
You stood up, smoothing out your dress as gojo fell into position like always, hand on the slope of your back as he crouched down to lay his head on your shoulder dramatically, trying to get you to baby him.
It worked, your hand coming up to ruffle his hair, “It’s alright toru, my conversation here was just wrapping up.” you referred to the man who unbeknownst to you was trying to come onto you throughout this whole interaction.
Sticking his tongue out childishly at the man when you weren’t looking, the two of you started for the door.
Gojo never got self conscious about himself, but you were different. He didn’t realize how much he really hated people looking at you like you were nothing but a body until you were in situations like these.
He wasn’t scared you would leave him for someone else but…ok maybe he was slightly scared you would leave him for someone else.
He’s the great Gojo Satoru!! The strongest sorcerer of the modern age!! People think he wasn’t aware of how obnoxious his personality got sometimes, but he was. He was aware of it being a turn off for many people.
He never thought that you would feel like that about him though, but seeing all of these admittedly attractive people who possibly had less annoying tendencies than him made him hold your body against him tighter.
“Are you feeling alright satoru? you never wanna leave these things early.” you asked, coming to stand in front of him when you finally exited the building. Standing on your tippy toes to reach his forehead, placing the back of your hand against it to feel if he was coming down with something.
Gojo relished in your warm hand against his soft skin, closing his eyes at the contact and groaning when you pulled away. “M fine, people just have fucking staring problems.” he mumbled under his breath.
“Huh?” you asked confused when he didn’t elaborate. Gojo grabbed your hand, dragging you in the direction of the car.
The walk was a short one. When you finally arrived, he opened got door for you, helping you into the car as he shut it behind you, walking around to his respective side of the car and sliding in before turning on the ignition, pulling out onto the dark street.
You rubbed your hand on his thigh comfortingly when he stayed silent.
“You love me right?” He spoke up, uncharacteristically insecure.
“You big dope, did you get jealous watchin me talk to someone else all night? You left me first remember?” hand coming up briefly to pinch his cheek, making him groan, before dropping back down to his thigh.
“Course I love you.” you admitted truthfully. 
“Ugghhhhh” gojo groaned loudly, slightly tipping his head back, being sure to keep his eyes on the road when he did so, “but he was practically fucking you with his eyesss.” drawling our his words childishly, pouting over at you.
“He what?” you asked in bewilderment.
“So oblivious baby, you need to be more careful, someone besides your big strong boyfriend might try to eat you up one day” grimacing slightly as he shook his head at your lack of picking-up-when-people-wanna-fuck-you radar.
“What kinda of weird things are you imagining in that head of yours, huh?” letting out a short laugh at his ridiculousness, retracting your hand back into your own lap.
“I’m seriousss,” he whined, glancing over at you, “He was lookin at you like he could fuck you better than I do.”
You almost choked on your spit at his words, “Satoru gojo!” you chastised at his bluntness.
Now it was his turn to drop his hand onto your thigh, squeezing the fat there when he spoke, “I’ll prove him wrong when we get home, gonna show him how much better I can make you feel.” He said, determination, laced in his voice.
“Satoru I don’t even remember his name.” You replied honestly, not denying that his promise sounded very intriguing though, still internally scoffing at his childishness in the current situation.
“Bet he remembers yours.” Making a point to slide his big hand higher up your thigh.
“Bet he memorized every inch of your body too, fucking undressing what’s mine with his eyes, who does he think he is.” gripping your thigh tightly as he got angry at his own words.
You gasped quietly, thighs squeezing together almost unnoticeably at gojos rough treatment of your leg.
"T-toru you're making stuff up again. You stuttered out, watching his jaw clench under the pressure of his teeth pressing tightly together inside his closed mouth.
Satoru ignored your words completely as he kept voicing his thoughts, "He wouldn't have any idea how to touch you like I do."
"Satoru, please." You begged, starting to feel yourself grow wet at his dirty words.
"What is it princess? The thought of me touchin' you getting you all excited?" Finally stopping his chatter about the unwanted man.
"Yes, please for the love of god stop talking." you gripped his wrist connected to his hand that was still tightly on your thigh.
"But I love making you feel good baby, wanna make you feel good all the time." He wines. You drop your gaze down to his lap and notice the massive tent in his pants, twitching every so often.
He really wasn't lying when he said he loves making you feel good. Figuring that part of the culprit for his huge boner was gojo's own words, working himself up for no reason. Not like you were complaining, as it was sounding like you were about get the best dick of your life soon.
Satoru had nothing to prove to anyone in your eyes, but in his, he had multiple faces burning into his retinas of people from the club that he wanted to line up in front of his king bed, and make them watch while he showed them how to properly treat someone like you.
"You make me feel so good satoru, dont think anyone's denying that, but ur makin' me feel all needy, please shut ur mouth till we get home. Don't know if I can take it." You whine, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand.
He giggled, retracting his hand from your thigh, opting to place his elbow agasint the center console, grinning as he shut himself up, cock still throbbing for attention against his zipper.
The rest of the car ride was silent, air palpable, and thick with the need you both had for each other. When the car came to a park in his garage, he calmly slid out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Walking at a steady pace over to your side of the car while you waited patiently, hands crossed in your lap as you swallowed harshly.
When he slung your door open his hand came into your view, placing your palm in his larger one, he assisted you out of the car, shutting the door behind you. He let you walk in front of him, trailing closely behind you.
Getting your keys out of your purse, you flipped through them, trying to find the one that led to satoru's garage door, shaky hands trying to steady themselves when you felt Gojo press himself against your back.
You felt his clothed boner press against your ass first, followed by his hands sliding over your lower stomach, eyes rolling back at the feeling. Then you felt his plush lips against your neck, leaving soft kisses down the sensitive skin as you fought your brain to work properly so you could insert the key into the door and get on with him.
He whimpered your name into your neck, followed by a "hurry" right when you successfully cracked the door open.
Gojo swiftly spun your body around, pinning you against the door and shutting it in the process, pressing his chest to yours as he assulted your lips with kisses, moaning against you.
He slotted his thick thigh between yours, forcing a whimper out of your mouth as he undid the hooks to your dress on the nape of your neck.
"Bedroom" you managed to get out in between kisses. He started removing his tie, quickly undoing the top 2 of his dress shirt buttons, and pulling you backwards with him when he started for the bedroom.
The light of the night seeping in from his floor to ceiling window wall being the only light the two of you had to be able to navigate through his large house.
You whimpered his name into his mouth, cursing when he slid your zipper down your back while you made your way to the bedroom. You kicked the fabric off your body and he leaned down to scoop you up in his arms, now having unobstructed access to your body.
Wrapping your legs around his hips, panty-clad cunt grinding into the rough material of his pants when you bounced along his body as he walked. "Need you," he muttered against your lips between kisses. while he reached a heavy hand around your back and expertly snapped off your bra.
Bumping you both into the wall quite a few times, easing the tension a bit and making you both giggle into the kiss, before he finally made it to the destination of his bedroom.
Plopping your back down on the bed, legs still tightly wrapped around his hips. Gojo started needily humping against your heat, hand coming down to undo his belt quickly.
"Fuck me satoru." you moaned into his mouth. Gojo had to slap himself mentally at that, gaining a sliver of his rational brain back. He had something he wanted to do before he fucked you good.
"I will baby, I will. don't worry" gojo left his promise all over your lips.
Finding his zipper with ease he slid the metal down, leaning back from your frame to try and slide his pants off, proving to be a challenge when your legs stayed wrapped tightly on his hips.
"Gotta let me go so I can get ready for you princess." He smirked. Your eyes were lidded, face flushed, and lips swollen from his lips assault. Breathing heavily you whispered out an "ok" before dropping your legs against the mattress.
"Such a good girl." Gojo praised, sliding his pants and boxers off in one swift motion, long curved cock flopping up against his abdomen with a wet "plp" sound from he dripping tip. His cock looked so angry, the tip a darker shade of pink than it usually was from how aroused he was right now. Nothing but the thought of pleasing you on his brain.
You pressed your knees together in front of him, trying to relive some of the neediness you were feeling between your thighs at the sight of his thick cock. Your eyes flitted between his deliciously curved member, and his beautiful eyes when he leaned over you again, sliding his fingers underneath the fabric of the panties resting on your hip, and sliding them off of you.
Satoru groaned out loud when the cloth peeled away from your cunt. The part that cupped your mound sticking to your skin from how your wetness had seeped through in anticipation.
"Haven't even done anything yet and you're so fucking wet." he moaned, balling up the panties in his hand and throwing them in the pile he was creating, currently made up of just his pants and boxers, making a mental note to keep that specific pair to himself after this.
Undoing the last couple of his dress shirt buttons he let it drape off his large frame sensually, joining the mess on the floor, leaving him completely nude. You yourself were not fairing any better, having been stripped naked in the hall, expensive dress forgotten somewhere in the living room.
Placing his hands on your kneecaps, he spread you open for him, staring hungrily down at your cunt, shaking his head at his disbelief when he saw the slick practically gushing out of your little hole, clenching around nothing.
"Please do something." You begged. Gojo didn't waste any more time, he wrapped his hands around your hips, and placed his back against the headboard in a sitting position, plopping you down on top of him, smaller hands pressing themselves against his pecs.
His cock throbbed, hovering right under your pussy. If he just thrust his hips up slightly, it might accidentally slip in.
"Want you to face away from me, and sit yourself on my dick." He requested, "Dont worry about movin' jus want you to take it all in yourself." He comforted.
Gojo never got tired of watching you struggle to take in his ridiculous size, little moans and cries slipping out between your lips as your face scrunched in pleasure, tears forcing their way down your cheeks. The latter reaction he unfortunately wouldn't be able to witness this time, as you started into action.
Turning your naked chest away from him; much to his dismay; bracing your feet on the bed, one hand coming back to stabilize yourself against his hard abs while you used the other to align his impossibly hard cock with your tiny hole.
Rubbing the tip and his precum alike against your enterance, before your other hand came down to hold your weight against his abs, cock sliding into you with litte resistance thanks to how wet you both were.
"F-fuuuuck 's so big," You whined, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes shut at the stretch. Gojo bit his lip, hand gripping bruisingly into your hip, relishing in your warm walls constricting around his cock.
"I knoww, takin it so good though princess, just like you always do," He praised, rubbing his fingertips against your skin as he kept talking you through it. Both of you letting out a groan together when you finally bottomed out on his cock.
You let your weight off of your feet and hands when Satoru placed his own on the bed, slinging your legs over his thighs, and making you hold your legs open for him as he placed kisses to the back of your head, "Did so good baby, took the whole thing so fucking good." His words made you clench around him, a feeling he didn't miss, as he smiled against your scalp.
"Satoru...move," you pleaded, noticing how he was staying still. He told you not to move, so you didn't, but you didn't know if you could take it if he only wanted to cockwarm you right now.
"Patience baby," Your body moved with his slightly when he leaned his body sideways, cracking open the bedside drawer and pulling out a baby blue bullet vibrator, clicking the toy on to make sure it was charged, before clicking it beck off when it successfully vibrated strongly between his fingers.
"Gonna make you feel so good princess," Confused at the brief buzzing sound you heard, about to voice your question when you felt the buzzing this time.
Gojo had pressed the vibrator against the inside of your thigh, slowly dragging it up and down your skin teasingly.
“T-toru- what are u doin?” you asked in a small voice, legs twitching, threatening to close in on themselves if it wasn’t for your hands keeping them open.
“Gonna worship you baby, just lay there n keep those legs spread for me ok?” His tall stature meant that even sitting, he still towered over you. This gave him a great view of everything.
Staring down at you he could see the side of your face; and the blush that covered it; the way your body folded, your wetness sticking against your inner thighs. Gojo was in heaven.
Using his free hand, he splayed his massive palm out right under your breast, keeping you pressed against his body.
He felt your pussy twitch around his cock steadily, feeling the heartbeat in your walls as you continued rubbing the soft silicone that coated the vibrator, over your skin.
The continuous pulsing around his shaft was making him dizzy, eyelids drooping heavily on his face, body buzzing with warmth and arousal at the situation.
His teasing finally ceased when he heard you whimper out his name sweetly, begging for the last time without words that you needed him to do something.
Placing the vibrator on its lowest setting against the hood of your clit softly, rubbing it in small circles over the nub. Gojo alternated between the latter motion and pressing it directly against your clit, pushing the hood of your clit out of the way, being forced to make room for the toy.
Your stomach clenched, body jerking in on itself when the toy touched a particular part of your pussy, and the stimulation became a little too much.
“o-oh my go-d toruuu,” you whined. Gojo’s watchful eyes never left his ministrations on your clit, absolutely enthralled with the scene in front of him. “looks like that feels so fucking good,” he moaned into the shell of your ear, wincing when your walls squeezed around his cock like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth.
“s-oo good f-fuck.” your breathily moans filled the air as you tipped your head back on his shoulder. He quickly started pressing little kisses all over your cheeks as you shut your eyes, letting him take care of you.
“That’s right, let go for me baby, I got you.” he softly whispered against your cheek, diverting his eyes back on your pussy. If he looked close enough he could see the way your opening squeezed around him, the sight being almost too erotic to handle.
“Keep your body against me baby,” he said before he left his hold on your torso and joined it down between your thighs with his other hand.
Using a couple thick fingers, he traced around the opening of your cunt, feeling how the soft flesh was pulled taught to make room for his girth.
“That t-ickles,” you wined, feeling him make a V shape with his index and middle fingers, rubbing them around where the base of his cock and your pussy met.
“Does it only tickle?” he asked, proving your words wrong when he pressed the vibrator harder against you, the buzzing sensation making your toes curl.
“So erotic..” he let out a little giggle, “Wish you could see this right now.” he continued, drawing little shapes on your clit and rubbing around the rim of your cunt, “Pussy is stretched to the limits while she’s huggin my cock.” he spoke, amazed.
You whined at his dirty words, silently wishing he would shut his big mouth, but not daring to say it out loud. His words not-so-secretly making you even wetter.
His cock had been leaking steadily into you throughout this entire interaction. Balls tightening with the need to release his seed inside you, to really fill you up and mark you internally as his.
Gojo closed his eyes, relishing in the intamacy, pressing his plush lips to your neck and sucking, leaving little bruises all over the expanse of your neck that he could reach.
After a while, he noticed your breath had started to pick up, cunt squeezing him continuously now instead of pulsing, “T-toru, think i-i’m gonna cum.” you whined softly, tilting your head towards him, making his raise his from his place against your neck, and stare into your eyes.
He smiled, already knowing from what your body was telling him before you spoke. “Go ahead baby, want feel you cum around my dick, you deserve it.” he spoke sweetly.
As much as he wanted to watch your pussy when it gushed out around him, right now he was so enthralled with your face. The both of you staring at each other, breathing heavily, your expression was pulled in an aroused pout, while his lips were formed in a smile.
You knew this orgasm was going to be a big one, stomach tingling with a stronger sensation than normal. Internally panicking slightly before you spoke, “f-feels d-ifferent toru.” you warned.
“Feel kinda like ur gunna pee?” he knowingly questioned. It took every molecule in his body to not cum when you nodded your head twords him, “Aww ‘s ok princess, just let it out okay? promise it’s gonna feel so fucking good.” he encouraged.
You were about to squirt. This was something he thought about in the back of his mind every time he fucked you. Always wishing that when you came, something else would come out too.
You were squirming around in his hold at the unfamiliar feeling coiling itself in your tummy. The steady buzzing and delicious circles he was keeping up on your clit only increasing the intensity of it.
Feeling yourself begin to tip over the edge, you hurried out your words, “T-toru, kiss meee, p-please,” needing him to help you through the sensation that was about to come.
“I got you, I got you.” he giggled, pressing his lips to yours, messily tonguing the inside of your mouth while your moans raised it pitch, whimpering into his cavern.
“mhm, mhmmm,” he encouraged, as he started thrusting his hips up, fucking his dick in and out of you, helping you feel even better as his tip beat repeatedly against your gspot.
Your mouth stopped cooperating, jaw going slack as you felt your orgasm start to wreck you. Eyes rolling back in your head as the waves of your high washed over you, “yesyesyes,” gojo groaned out laughing, feeling the first trickles of your squirt spray out around him.
You were moaning so loud, broke cries of his barely coherent name leaving your mouth as he quickly rubbed the vibrator back and forth across your clit.
Balls finally releasing his seed into you at the feeling and visual of your squirt absolutely drenching the sheets underneath the two of you.
He groaned into the air, breathy laughs mixing in with them while he humped each and every last rope of his cum into your womb, pressing his balls hard against your ass when he thrusted inside.
“Holy shittt,” he dragged out when he started to come down from arguably one of the best orgasms he’s ever had in his life.
“That was so fucking hot, good job baby,” bringing his attention back your face, leaving sloppy wet kisses all over your cheeks, licking up the tears that had fallen.
You looked so fucked out, chest heaving, and cunt twitching around him in the aftershocks, eyes fluttering at the intensity in which you just came.
“You did so fucking well, how did that feel?” he asked? Giving yourself a second to catch your breath before you spoke, you mumbled out, “intense.”
“Awww I bet, looked like it felt so good to let it out though, pussy almost snapped my dick off with that one.” he giggled into your cheek.
“Thank you toru, needed that.” you spoke breathlessly.
“Don’t thank me just yet sweet thing” he said. You cracked your eyes open when you felt him slide out from underneath you, situating you in the missionary position.
Gojo placed the breifly forgot about vibrator back on your oversensitive clit, making your legs squeeze around his hips as he used the tips of his fingers to guide his still hard cock back into your warmth.
“Fuck! S-satoru what are you doing?” you panicked as painful pleasure started wracking your body, trying to jerk and jolt away from the stimulation.
“J-jus came ‘m s-sensitiveee.” you whined, fat tears rolling down your face as he started a rough pace, fucking his cock into your gspot, making your words break up when you spoke.
“Cuming just once isn’t enough for my pretty babyyy, you deserve more than that,” abandoning the vibrator for a second to push your thighs against your head, and placing your ankles over his shoulders as he put you in a mean mating press.
“C-cant t-take it.” you voiced in between thrusts, pussy spasming uncontrollably around his fat cock. Once gojo had manhandled you where he wanted you, he placed the bullet back on your puffy clit, making you scream out.
You were feeling so overwhelmed, thighs burning from being pushed to the limits in flexibility, feeling his weight crush you while he bullied his cock into your drenched walls, and the toy? You swore this would be the night gojo killed you during sex.
“Just let yourself feel it baby, relax your body for me let me do allll the work.” he spoke, trying to reassure you as he dropped his gaze to where the two of you were connected, loud squelches emitting from him fucking into you at how wet you were, gojo feeling lightheaded seeing the thick ring of cum at the base of his dick.
Without warning he felt you squeeze around his length impossibly tight, feeling something spray against his abdomen, realizing you were squirting again.
“Yeaahhhh fuck, that’s what I wanted to see.” He brought back his hips before slamming them into you harder, feeling impossibly aroused seeing this new orgasm crash over you a second time.
Your moans and protests were incoherent at this point, tears and drool covering your face as he fucked you through another intense high.
Satoru started to feel himself reach his peak again but he needed to see that one more time before he allowed himself release.
“Good girl, gooooood fucking girl.” he praised at your lack of resistance when your body went lax against him.
You gave up on fighting the pleasure, really letting your brain go numb at the feeling of, well, everything. There was so much going on, his lips would be on your neck one second, tongue in your mouth the next, babbling some dirty talk you were too fucked out to comprehend.
The vibrator was being slid all over your folds with no rhythm, but it felt so fucking good.
“Cmon you can do it, one more time baby just one more time, need to feel you squirt around me, please.” he begged.
Gojo was fucking you both stupid at this point, he was drooling, feeling so fucking pussydrunk as he mindlessly thrusted his cock in and out of your wetness.
Quickly and sloppily sliding the bullet over your clit one last time before he heard you whimper out a warning of your orgasm, impressed you were still able to form words at this point.
His jaw dropped as he came with you, electricity zapping down his spine feeling you gush around him while he stuffed you full, his moans were so needy and high pitched, overstimulating himself by rolling his hips into yours, making sure your cunt swallowed every drop of his cum.
“F-fuck, loveyousomuch.” he slurred, dropping his entire weight against your folded body, making your tendons scream at the stretch.
“S-satoru..hurts.” you voiced, successfully getting him to lean back, letting your legs drop onto the sheets, thighs and toes tingling when the blood started to circulate through them again.
“God you’re fucking amazing, hope u felt as good as I did.” He murmured into your chest.
“are u kidding? almost died.” you whispered, brain still tingling while you gained your braincells back slowly.
He wrapped his strong arms around your body, keeping his softening cock snug inside you, his chest pressed against your was firmly.
You both relished in the feeling for awhile, intertwining your legs and feet together against the bed, wanting to feel this intamacy for a little longer before you ultimately had to clean up.
“So…think club guy could make you cum harder than that?” he spoke into your breasts.
Using your arms to gather all of the strength you had left, placing your sweaty hands on his cheeks, making him raise his head to look up at you, “Satoru,” you chastised, “don’t ruin this.” falling into a fit of giggles when he groaned in defeat, sending vibrations through your lungs.
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violetrainbow412-blog · 10 months
Text
A fair payment [W. W.]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 1.5k
People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]
some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)
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“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.
The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 
However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.
“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.
Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.
"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."
“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.
Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.
“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”
“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"
"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.
Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.
“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.
"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”
“Oh, it's nothing.”
“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."
You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.
Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.
“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”
“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.
Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.
Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.
“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.
“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”
“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”
“And you are a great dreamer”
“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.
“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”
“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”
“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.
“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"
Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.
A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.
"What's that?"
“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.
You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.
At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.
You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?
“How does it taste?”
“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”
“A special and secret ingredient”
"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”
You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.
“We could say yes”
“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.
A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.
“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.
As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.
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reidsworld · 1 month
Text
Patience Wears Thin
Summary: Logan’s flirty behaviour has you thinking he’s just being sarcastic. But when his attitude changes and his grumpiness intensifies, leading to him avoiding you, you confront him, only for him to finally snap. Based on this request.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Mutant!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warnings: Reader’s oblivious, mild language, sexual tension, slight jealous!logan, making out, hickeys, oral sex(m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), creampie, (semi) public sex (you’ll see what I mean), no use of Y/N, pet names (darlin’) — you are responsible for the content you consume, if you are not comfortable with any of these warnings or are a minor, DNI!!
Word Count: 2.9k
Mars speaks… It's been a while since I’ve posted but here we are!! Thank you for the request, this was kinda tough for me to write and didn’t really turn out how I wanted it but I hope it meets your expectations! The reader is a mutant but her powers aren’t specified. Any and all feedback is always appreciated!
Masterlist
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You were used to Logan’s gruffness, but lately, something had changed. At first, it was little things—him hanging around more often, offering to help with tasks that didn’t need his strength, or staying close by even when you were just making coffee. You noticed the way his hand would brush against yours when passing you something or how he’d rest his hand on your shoulder a little longer than necessary. Despite all of his actions, he was still cold around you, seemingly never able to escape his own grumpiness.
One evening, as you were getting ready for a date, Logan wandered by your room. His mood was clearly off as he knocked leaned against your door frame, his eyes closed and head tilted down. When you greeted him, he slowly looked you up and down. His expression shifted from frustration to shock as he took in how stunning you looked.
“Damn,” Logan said, his voice cold and deep, if you didn’t know him, you would’ve sworn he hated you. “You look incredible. Got a big night planned?”
You glanced up from the mirror, surprised by his comments. “Oh, I have a date tonight,” you replied with a smile, still adjusting your dress.
Logan’s eyes darkened slightly as he processed your words. “A date, huh?”
“Yep,” you said, focusing on your reflection. “I’m just trying to pick the right outfit.”
He pushed himself off the door frame, his gaze still fixed on you. “You don’t need to be worried about impressing anyone tonight, darlin’. Trust me, you look incredible.”
You laughed, thinking he was just being his usual flirtatious self. “Thanks, Logan. But it’s just dinner. Nothing too serious.”
Logan’s jaw tightened, and he took a step back, his demeanour now distant. “Right. Well, have fun.”
You smiled at him, not noticing the shift in his attitude. “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”
As you left for your date, Logan watched you go, his face a mask of frustration and disappointment. The knowledge that you were going out with someone else hit him hard, and his mood darkened.
You were left puzzled by his sudden change in behaviour. However, in Logan’s mind, if you were going out with someone else, you clearly didn’t want him, so why should he put effort into a losing game?
But you didn’t think much of his compliments, chalking it up to Logan trying to be supportive. Until one day, you noticed something different—he started avoiding you.
It began with him skipping out on the usual training sessions you shared. Then, he stopped joining you for movie nights in the common room, always coming up with a vague excuse that didn’t make sense. He’d disappear for hours, not even leaving a trace of his familiar scent behind. The final straw was when he didn’t show up for your breakfast dates (well… that’s what they were to him), a ritual he never missed. It was confusing, and you couldn’t figure out what had changed.
You asked him once, in passing, if something was wrong. His answer was clipped, dismissive. “Nothin’ for you to worry about, darlin’.”
But you were worried. His behaviour was off, and no matter how much you replayed your interactions in your mind, you couldn’t pinpoint what had triggered this sudden shift.
A few days later, you walked into the kitchen to find Logan grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. Relief washed over you—this was the first time you’d seen him in days without him immediately bolting. But when you greeted him, he barely grunted in response, not meeting your eyes.
“Logan, seriously,” you said, trying to sound casual but unable to keep the concern out of your voice. “What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me.”
His jaw clenched, and he didn’t respond right away, his eyes fixed on the bottle in his hand. “Just been busy.”
“Busy?” You frowned, crossing your arms. “Too busy to even say hello?”
He looked up at you then, his eyes hard. “Yeah, busy. I don’t have time for games, alright?”
“Games?” you echoed, thrown off by the accusation. “What are you talking about? I’m not playing any games, Logan.”
He let out a frustrated huff, shaking his head as he pushed past you, brushing your shoulder as he went. “Forget it.”
That was it? He was clearly upset, but he wouldn’t talk to you about it. It didn’t make sense. You stood there, staring at the spot where he’d just been, confusion and hurt swirling inside you. Logan was the last person you expected to act like this—especially toward you.
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A few more days passed, and the tension between you only grew. Logan’s avoidance became more blatant, and every time you tried to approach him, he’d find a way to leave before you could say anything. You started to wonder if you’d done something to upset him, but every time you asked, he brushed you off with a noncommittal grunt or a sarcastic remark.
It was driving you crazy.
Now you were sitting alone in the common room, you and Logan somehow being the only two in the mansion with everyone else out on various missions and overnight school trips. As you attempted to watch a movie to take your mind off things, Logan’s absence gnawed at you. He was always here for movie nights, even if he’d just sit silently in the corner. The emptiness of his usual spot was glaring, a constant reminder that something had shifted between you.
You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to confront him, to find out what the hell was going on.
When you walked into the gym, your eyes immediately found Logan, his muscular form sitting on a raised bench, sweat glistening on his skin. He didn’t acknowledge your presence, focusing on his workout with an intensity that made your stomach twist.
“Logan,” you called out, your voice firmer than you felt.
He paused, setting the dumbbells down with a heavy thud before finally looking at you. “What?”
“What is your problem?” you demanded, stepping closer, not giving him a chance to escape this time. “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague, and I want to know why.”
Logan’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat off his face. “Maybe I’m just tired of tryin’,” he muttered, his voice low.
“Trying what?” You crossed your arms, frustration boiling over. “Logan, you’re not making any sense. You’ve been acting like I did something wrong, but I don’t even know what that is!”
His eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place—anger, maybe? But there was something else too, something deeper that made your heart race.
“You really don’t get it, do you?” he growled, stepping closer to you, his presence overwhelming.
“Get what?” you shot back, refusing to back down even though his proximity was making it hard to think straight.
Logan huffed, his hand running through his hair in a rare display of frustration. “I’ve been tryin’ to show you, but you’re too damn blind to see it.”
“Show me what?” You were at your wit’s end, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife.
His eyes bore into yours, intense and unyielding. “That I want you, darlin’. I’ve wanted you for a long damn time, and I’m sick of you not seein’ it.”
You stared at him, stunned into silence. This was the last thing you expected him to say. Logan—gruff, no-nonsense Logan—wanted you? The thought was so far from anything you’d ever imagined that you couldn’t even process it.
“You…you want me?” you finally managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the frustration in his eyes palpable. “I’ve been tryin’ to show ya, but you keep thinkin’ I’m just bein’ a grumpy bastard.”
You blinked, completely floored by his confession. “Logan, I…I didn’t know. I thought…”
“Thought I was messin’ with ya?” he finished for you, his voice rough, almost bitter. “That’s why I’ve been avoidin’ ya—figured if you couldn’t see it by now, I was just wastin’ my time.”
The weight of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. You hadn’t seen it, not because you didn’t want to, but because the idea that Logan could feel that way about you seemed impossible. And now, standing here, with him staring at you like you were the only person in the world, you realised how wrong you’d been.
“Logan, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest. “I didn’t know. I never thought…”
“Don’t apologise,” he cut you off, his voice softer now, but still edged with frustration. “I’m just done waitin’, darlin’. I can’t keep doin’ this—dancin’ around it, hopin’ you’ll figure it out.”
You took a shaky breath, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to think. “What do you want, Logan?”
He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip in a way that made your knees weak. “You, darlin’. I’ve always wanted you.”
Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, rough and demanding, as if he was trying to make up for all the time lost in that one kiss. The force of it stole your breath, your hands automatically reaching up to clutch his shoulders as you kissed him back just as fiercely.
Logan’s grip on you tightened, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing your lips until you parted them, letting him in. The taste of him—smoke, whiskey, and something unmistakably Logan—filled your senses, making your head spin.
He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his breathing ragged, his pupils blown wide with desire. “Still think I’m jokin’?”
You shook your head, your heart racing, your thoughts scattered. “No,” you breathed out.
“Good,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours before he started kissing his way down your jaw, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin. “’Cause I’m gonna show you exactly how much I want you.”
His mouth found the sensitive spot just below your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin before he bit down gently, making you gasp. Your hands fisted in his shirt, needing something to hold on to as his hands moved to your thighs, lifting you and moving to sit on the bench. Your legs desperately straddled him, pulling him closer.
Logan’s hands were everywhere—sliding under your shirt, tracing the curve of your waist, skimming up your ribs, his touch igniting a fire in you that you hadn’t realised was there. He was careful, almost reverent, despite the rough edge to his movements, as if he was holding himself back from completely losing control.
When his hands found your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples through the fabric of your bra, you arched into him, a whimper escaping your lips. He growled, the sound low and primal, as his mouth found yours again, his kiss fierce and demanding.
You could feel the hardness of him pressing against your core, the friction sending waves of pleasure through you, and you couldn’t help but rock your hips against him, seeking more.
Logan’s response was immediate, his hands gripping your hips as you ground against him, his mouth devouring yours as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You were lost in the sensation, in the heat and the intensity of him, and it was all you could do to hold on.
Just when you thought you might lose yourself completely, Logan pulled back, his breathing ragged, his eyes wild as he looked up at you. “Tell me to stop,” he rasped, his voice strained, as if it was taking everything in him to hold back. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
But the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. You shook your head, your voice breathless as you whispered, “Don’t stop.”
Logan let out a low, feral sound, his lips crashing against yours again as he ripped off your shirt. His patience had worn thin, and now there was no turning back. As your lips roughly moulded together, tongues battling for dominance, your hands slid under his tank-top, brushing over his abs. You pulled away, taking off his shirt, jaw dropping at the sight of his glistening body from the sweat of his workout.
“Holy shit, you should be shirtless more often…”
He didn’t respond, his hand grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into another kiss. Your hands trailed down his chest, fingers sliding down his happy trail. Climbing off him, you dropped down to your knees in front of him. He raised his hips as you pulled down his sweatpants and boxers, his dick springing out and slapping against his stomach.
You didn’t give him time to process what was happening as you immediately licked a stripe up his dick before taking the head into your mouth, tongue brushing against the tip, making him throw his head back against the bench and groan.
Your hands gently massaged his balls as your mouth focused on the head of his cock, gently sucking as his hand moved to gather your hair into a make-shift ponytail. You lowered your head, taking more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks.
Looking up through your lashes, your eyes met with his while you began to move your head up and down faster, your hands touching whatever couldn’t fit into your mouth. You continued this until your jaw was aching and his dick was twitching in your mouth.
He began to gently thrust into your mouth, making you gag as he hit the back of your throat. One of your hands slid down into your shorts, rubbing your clit before pushing a finger into your dripping pussy.
“Fuck, so good darlin’,” he grunted as you moaned around him, slipping another finger into yourself.
“If you don’t stop now, m’gonna cum, wanna feel you ‘round me.”
He pulled you off of him, revelling in your dishevelled appearance. You stood up, and pulled off your shorts and panties. You reached behind you, unclipping your bra, letting it slide off your body. His eyes trailed up and down your body admiring you. You bit your lip at the way his eyes shined with something that you couldn’t quite put your finger on but you never wanted him to stop looking at you like that.
You silently moved to straddle him, pulling him into a slow kiss as your bare core grinded against his cock. One of his hands wrapped around you, trailing up and down your back as you both sat there, grinding against each other. His other hand reached down and grabbed your hip.
You raised your hips as you reached for his cock, positioning at your entrance before slowly sinking down onto him. You leaned forward and he fell back against the bench and buried your face in his neck, letting out a simultaneous moan as you stretched around him. You stayed still, adjusting to his size, panting into his neck, making him harder than he thought possible.
Once you were ready, you slowly raised your hips before sinking back down onto him. His hands moved to grip your hips as you began to ride him, gently helping you. You kissed him roughly, moaning into his mouth as his hips thrust up to meet yours.
The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the loud moans and groans coming out of your mouths. In that moment, neither of you cared where you were— that there was a chance someone could easily walk in on you even though it was just the two of you in the mansion. All you two cared about was the feeling of him inside of you and how you wrapped so tightly around him.
He let out a rough groan as your lips met his neck, biting into it when his hips met yours. Bouncing on his dick, you clenched around him, making him let out an almost feral sound.
“Oh fuck don’t stop, wrapped so tightly ‘round me, s’like you were made for me.”
“‘M all yours, Lo.”
“Shoulda never avoided you, shoulda just manned up and kissed you, ‘stead of waiting ‘round for you to realise that I want you.”
If you weren’t so desperate for him, you would’ve laughed but all you could do was moan and nod into his neck.
“‘M gonna cum, Lo.”
“Give it to me, darlin’.”
His hand reached to roughly circle your clit, sending you over the edge. You moaned out as a feeling of ecstasy overcame you and your vision went white. Your body slumped against his but his thrusts were relentless. As they got sloppier, you could feel his dick twitch inside of you, making you moan.
“I’m so close, need to cum inside you.”
His mouth pressed against your neck, marking you like a blank canvas for everyone to see later. He pounded up into you, his hand still rubbing your clit causing you to cum for a second time. You tightened around him, making him shoot his cum deep inside you.
His thrusts slowed, fucking you through it as you both panted, trying to catch your breath. His movements came to a stop and he titled his head back, letting out a deep breath.
You raised your head, looking into his eyes and laughing,
“I can’t believe I could’ve had this so much sooner if I wasn’t so obvious.”
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Mars speaks… (again) woah that got… 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂
Tags… @pastelpinkflowerlife
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ohproserpine · 8 months
Text
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."
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lina-lovebug · 8 months
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I'd Fight The Devil
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Alastor x fem! reader
Background: (Y/N) is the elder Morningstar, and wants to fix her relationship with her dad. But her dad hates her boyfriend.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Finale
Allusions to sex, actual sex, angel being angel, and cannibalism
_____
Angel spit out his drink, "You're with Alastor?!"
"Yeah, thoughts?"
"And prayers, girl," Angel could never imagine a sweet girl like (Y/N) getting it on with the Radio Demon himself.
But everyone has their kinks, he supposed.
Alastor manifested behind her, and she immediately felt his presence. Pressing herself against him, he leaned into her warmth and kept his arms around her shoulders.
"How was your day, mon amour?"
"It'll be even better," She trailed off, turning around to face him, "when we meet my dad for dinner."
Silence.
And not even radio silence.
"Not to be rash, but I'm sure your father would sooner see my head on a pike than on my body," Alastor adored the fact that she was mending their bond, even more so when Lucifer makes the effort.
But announcing their relationship to him?
He could see it ending in flames.
"I know you two don't get along, but I thought a nice dinner might smooth things over."
"And if he disapproves of us?" He lifted her head upwards with his finger, bemused as to what her answer may be.
"Then he'll have to get used to it," (Y/N) replied, sending a shiver of excitement up his spine.
Only a feeling that the she-devil he was utterly obsessed with could provide.
"Ugh, can you guys go fuck somewhere else?" Angel said, "or at all? I can't imagine going a lifetime without dick."
Alastors eye twitch, "now that's our business, isn't it?"
"Okay, okay," Charlie spoke up, "you guys go get ready."
Charlie couldn't help but notice the change in Alastor. It had only been a few months, but being in her sisters presence alone has made him kind. Sure, the both of them would skin someone alive over an insult, but Alastor would rip out his own eyes if (Y/N) asked.
A perfect match.
(Y/N) dawned a black dress with a pearl necklace that Alastor bought for her. Well, she thinks he bought it but he actually stole it off of a fresh kill.
How sweet.
"Pumpkin! Oh look at you! You're as radiant as ever!" Lucifer fawned over his daughter as they made it to the restaurant, making it a point to ignore the red demon behind her.
"Catching strays?" Lucifer gestured to him.
"Lovely to see you again," Alastor retorted.
"Dad, why don't we go inside? And Alastor will be joining us," now, Lucifer didn't forget what he said. He recognized that the fearsome deer demon had the intention of claiming Princess (Y/N) as his own, but did his daughter return such feelings?
Honestly, Lucifer feared that.
Not it being Alastor persay, but his little girls being hurt.
He knew how awful it felt to go through the divorce with Lilith, and then her disappearance.
He didn't ever want his daughters to feel that way.
"So, Alastor, what do you do again?"
"I have a radio broadcast. Your daughter has actually helped me repair the studio after the attack," He laid his land on hers.
And Lucifer picked up Alastors hand.
And placed it away from hers.
"Uh, dad-"
"Look, if you two are fucking, don't tell me."
"Dad!" Her face burned red, "we aren't-that's not. . .I love Alastor, and he loves me. I want you to accept us both."
"Love? Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pumpkin, I don't think-"
"I'm not a little kid," She interrupted, "I'm a grown woman, and I'm able to make my own decisions. I want to be with Alastor because I love him. You may not think I know what love is, but I know it's what I feel with Alastor."
That's when he saw it.
That look.
Whilst (Y/N) was defending herself, defending their love, Alastor looked at her. Only her. And it was like he was staring at the nebula itself, seeing all its beauty in the Heir of Hell. His smile faltered, closing his mouth, and his eyes softened.
It's the same look that he used to give Lilith.
"If I ever hear that you've made her cry, or even laid a single hand upon her," Lucifer stared him down, "I'll make you disappear."
"A man true to his word. Looks like we have something in common," Alastor agreed, his hand back on hers. She gave him a smile, one that reminded him of Lilith.
The rest of dinner went off without any incidents. The small jab here and there, but no one died, and no one was stabbed. Lucifer learned more about his daughters business and how she lit up talking about it.
"You hardly ate, Alastor. Is something wrong?" (Y/N) asked when her father went to the restroom.
"Oh no, my dear. Just hungry for something else, is all," His eyes raked up her form, earning a cough from the she-devil.
Honestly, she didn't know where he was on his spectrum. She was fine never even being intimate, so long as he was happy, but this spark in his eyes lit a fire within her.
"O-oh. . .are you sure?" Believe it or not, (Y/N) had only had sex twice and both times she'd call it lackluster.
"I don't want you to force yourself if you don't want to," oh how innocent she was. Honestly, Alastor assumed he was aroace before he met the she-devil. Her ferocity - her chaos in fights, her genuine kindness, and her soul - itself brought out that spark.
There are moments where the carnal desire needs to be satisfied.
"Mon cher, I'd never ask if I didn't mean it."
That look, it made her softly gasp.
"Alast-"
"Ew."
Right.
Lucifer.
He showed up from his restroom break and found the pair giving eachother "fuck me" eyes.
"Could I eat my dinner without you groping my child?" Lucifer hissed, despite Alastor only touching her hand.
He blinked, thinking how he's never even groped a woman.
"Maybe."
Sick bastard.
_ _ _ ☆ _ _ _
"Fuck! Alastor!"
(Y/N) had never cum before, so Alastor being her first to ever do so and smiling away at her quivering legs made it so much better.
"Oh fuck. . ." She moaned weakly, his tongue slithering in and out of her to lick up every last drop.
"Al. . ." She was breathless, staring at his strained member. Reaching up to unzip his pants, he tutted as he grabbed her wrist.
"Al?"
"It's about you. Don't worry about me, amour," He purred, kissing the bite marks on her thighs.
"But you-"
Before she could detest further, wishing to satisfy him, the door opened.
"Oh my God, they were right! Alastor, you sly dog," Angel Dust was at the door, and Alastor quickly covered his beloveds' body with the covers before his horns started to grow and his back stretched.
"I'm going to kill you."
"Not before you make love to me, you're not," still in his demonic form, (Y/N) blew a gust of wind to slam the door shut.
Her body displayed on the bed, Alastor agreed.
"And stay in that form. It suits you."
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pearlymel · 1 month
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A dance— Capitano
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Synopsis : your relationship with him grows, and he seems sweeter than ever.
Wc : 3.2k
Warnings : contains NSFW content, fem!reader, reader is mostly called 'wife', he's super sweet, soft sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink kinda, reader wears a dress and heels.
Notes : part 2 is heree! I highly recommend reading part 1 here. And part 3 is out here!
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You've tried creating art, you've tried cooking (with the help of your personal maid, Marina), you've even tried planting.
Yeah, you're a plant mom now. Not only that, you're a cat mom too. Saving the poor kitty from the harsh rain one day, you couldn't leave the poor little one outside. It's mother seeming to abandon it.
All because you have become extremely bored on the days where Capitano wouldn't be here, and he forbade you to even clean your shared bedroom because he thinks it's useless when there are servants present to do the job. (He doesn't want to tire you out.)
Come to think of it, the last time you saw him, he kept avoiding you. Whenever you tried striking a conversation during dinner, he would only hum and nod. Or when you suggested to have another picnic, he flatly refused, and it felt like the hardest rejection to your face.
It's like he had his own mood swings that you had to deal with. One day he would indulge you in the activities you wanted to do, then the next he would refuse.
Like last week.
“I used to do this when i was young.” You tell him with the softest smile to yourself, your fingers working carefully with the flower petals and strings. You were determined to make this flower crown, and you were taking your sweet time just to have him by your side.
Capitano silently listened to your words, his gaze fixed on your gentle movements as you delicately fashioned a flower crown. The air between you was calm, "You have a talent for making flower crowns," he eventually responded, his deep voice breaking the tranquil silence.
"Did you learn it from someone?”
“No… just by myself.” He couldn't help but be impressed by your innate ability to create such an intricate accessory without any formal instruction. "Self-taught." He mused, "You have an unusual aptitude for discovering things on your own.”
You hum back while adding the finishing touches, and he watched your proud display of the finished flower crown.
“this is for kitty!” You smile at the thought of the little one purring with a pretty crown on it's head.
Kitty? Capitano is confused once you start talking about the cat, you seem even more excited when you described how you cuddled with it.
"You just happened to come across this crying feline in the rain, and you brought it home with you?”
“yes! Ah, well… i hope you don't mind.”
“i don't.”
And that was the last of your conversation, and it's been a week since you last saw him.
“my lady,” You recognise the voice of Marina as she knocks on the door, and you grant her the permission of her entry.
You set the sleeping kitten on the fluffed up pillow to reach for the letter she hands you.
An invitation to the grand ball… you read the contents of it, scanning every word as you pull the paper down.
“like a party?” you ask, glancing up at her, "Yes, that is correct. A grand ball is taking place tonight. It's a gathering of the higher-ranking Fatui members and a few... select guests.” she trails off, unsure of what else to add on.
“I can see that this invitation is for Capitano, not to me.”
“lord Capitano doesn't normally attend these grand balls. So my lady, you will have to go instead.” Marina explains this and you feel like you're going to have a headache.
All you wanted to do today was sleep in with the kitten. Not to trouble yourself in some party.
But… if it's for the sake of your husband's reputation, then you are willing to do it.
You hope you don't pass away too quick from your social anxiety.
“Marina, does this really suit me?” You stare at your reflection, and Marina looks at you approvingly, her eyes taking in your stunning appearance. "Sì, my lady, it suits you perfectly," she assures you, "The dress brings out your features beautifully and fits your figure perfectly.”
“and the colour?”
"Oh, yes, the color is exquisite. It complements your skin tone perfectly. You look like a princess attending a royal ball.” and you smile shyly as you take your seat, “You flatter me too much, you know?”
Marina chuckles softly, moving behind you to work on your hair with practiced ease. "It's not flattery if it's the truth. You look truly radiant today." She begins to style your hair, weaving intricate braids and pinning them in place with delicate silver pins.
Though you can't even lie to yourself, you looked absolutely gorgeous, even when you felt a little down since you would be going alone, and you barely knew anyone.
Marina pauses in her work for a moment, her expression becoming sympathetic as she sensed your nervousness. “It's natural to feel that way. But I believe you will be fine. You are strong and independent." She resumes styling your hair, her fingers moving nimbly to create elegant curls.
You smile at her, looking at her from the mirror, “thank you.”
"It is my honor to serve you.” As she finishes your hair, she steps back to admire her work, a satisfied expression on her face. "You are ready, my lady.”
You are ready.
You are not ready.
Because why was everyone's eyes piercing bullets through you as you entered the main hall?
The whispers and murmurs start almost immediately, the guests clearly intrigued by your presence. However, you manage to keep your composure, straightening your back and walking forward with confidence, just like how Marina taught you.
Stay calm they won't eat you, you tell yourself, trying to maintain your composure under the weight of their gazes.
You were here to make friends, hopefully.
You scan the room, hoping that someone would approach you to engage in conversation. Yet nobody, not a single soul, seems to have the courage to do so. The guests continue their conversations and dances, seemingly ignoring your presence.
And so, you find yourself standing alone, sipping on a glass of champagne, feeling lost and slightly out of place.
Well this is boring. You could've stayed in with Kitty and Marina, but at least you get free food. They always taste better, right?
Everyone went silent all of a sudden, but you ignored it at first and continue taking sips of your drink.
But the silence becomes uncomfortable, just what happened to the party?
You turn around, your eyes widening immediately in surprise as you see Capitano walking towards you. Your heart seems to skip a beat as you watch him approach, his presence commanding attention and authority in the room. Capitano stops in front of you, you can't make up what his face must be like right now, but you think he has a stoic expression on his face as he takes in your appearance. His eyes roaming up and down your figure, seemingly appreciating the elegance of your dress.
“husband?” You blurt out, setting your glass aside to greet him.
"Wife," he says simply, acknowledging the fact that you have finally addressed him by that term.
The tension breaks when soft, elegant music begins to play, signaling the start of partner dances in the middle of the ballroom.
Capitano seems to realize this as he glances around at the couples already making their way to the dance floor. He then turns back to you, his expression unreadable as he silently contemplates the situation.
He can see the slight tension in your shoulders, the way your hand clutched at your dress.
"I suppose we should dance, wife.”
“you want to dance?”
"Yes," he responds. "It appears it's customary for couples at these events to dance together." He extends his hand in your direction, gesturing for you to take it. You take his hand, wrapping it gently around his gloved one. His fingers close around your hand, his grip gentle yet firm as he leads you towards the dance floor.
You notice the whispers and murmurs among the guests growing louder. But you chose to ignore them.
Capitano guides you to the center of the dance floor and positions himself opposite you, his hand settling onto your waist, and your hands on his shoulders.
"Do you know how to dance?" You whisper to him, making sure no one listens, and your eyes are on him.
"I may not engage in these social events often, but even I understand the basics of dance." His hand on your waist pulls you closer to him, you follow his lead.
Interesting.
He leads the dance with of assurance and grace, his movements fluid and confident. As you follow his lead and swirl together across the dance floor, your eyes meet his, and you find yourself unable to look away. The closeness between you makes it feel as if the rest of the world has faded away, leaving only the two of you dancing together.
You notice how he seems to turn his head slightly to look at others, mimicking their movements swiftly, it makes you smile to yourself.
His hand on your waist feels warm, almost burning even through the fabric of your dress. It's a strange sensation you've never felt when touching him, despite having already kissed (once) before.
”my dress,” you whisper amidst the graceful dance, “what do you think of it?”
You figured you always needed to give him a little push when initiating things.
His attention drift down to take in the sight of your dress once again. His gaze roams over the fabric, lingering on the way it clings to your figure, and how the color contrasts against your skin.
"It's... " he pauses, you're just wearing a dres, but he finds it difficult to describe what he feels, "Very pleasing to the eye.” he manages to continue.
"You look rather well tonight, as well.”
“Thank you, wife.”
The music suddenly shifts to a slower tempo, and Capitano instinctively adjusts his hold on you, pulling you slightly closer as he continues to dance with you.
You totally ignore how your face is almost pressed up against his chest.
As interesting as the party was, the worst part of was walking back to the estate. Why? Because the carriage decided to break down, or maybe the horses were sleepy, you don't know.
You're glad your husband is with you, or else you might've been sacrificed to the dogs at night, now even ants will fear this big guy.
But what's worse? Your damn heels are killing you. The sides of your pinky toes are already aching that you are sure it will cause nasty blisters by tomorrow.
"Perhaps next time you should wear more comfortable shoes." He stated bluntly, his deep voice betraying no pity for your situation. “but they look pretty, plus i feel elegant in them.” you stop at your tracks, looking up at him with a defeated expression.
"I'm well aware." he says dryly, "But at what cost? You're practically torturing yourself with those heels.”
He's half right, your point still stands. Beauty is pain. And now you'll have to sacrifice your beauty.
Bye bye heels. You slide them off your feet, bow having your poor feet to walk on these rocky grounds. You do feel a little better after, though.
“stay still.” He utters, and you're confused, until he takes your heels in one hand before you feel a shift of your weight off your feet, finding yourself being carried into his arms.
you wrapped your arms around his neck silently, your eyes glancing up at him as he continues walking like he you weigh nothing.
The air around you is peaceful. You feel safe with him, he's not like the scary man you hear from the others. Maybe to others he was, but to you? He was soft for you.
Your head leans on his chest where his heart rested, the beats of his heart makes you sleepy, but you refuse to sleep just like this, you want to spend every single second savouring this feeling.
Capitano carried you all the way to the estate, and through the dark corridors, making his way to your shared chambers.
The soft moonlight filtering through the windows was the only source of illumination, the atmosphere around you quiet.
He gently deposited you back on your feet, you're back home safely.
“thank you.” You whisper, your hands reaching to take the pins out of your hair to let your hair breath the scruffy yet beautiful hairstyle, and Capitano starts taking off the heavy layers off him as well, with the helmet out.
You don't notice how one of your dress straps seem to fall off your shoulders, but he notices, and oh did that make something in hin stir.
His steps closer from behind you, his hand reaching to put the strap back in place, but instead, he glances at the other strap.
It looked rather lonely being on your shoulder, his fingers delicately sliding the strap down which makes you ultimately still in your place.
Your entire body trembled slightly as Capitano's hands caressed your skin, tracing gentle paths across your shoulders and back down to the zipper on your side. “May i.. help you out of your dress?” His low, gruff voice, asking for permission to help you out of your dress, made your heart beat faster.
You could only nod in response, your voice silenced by a mixture of anticipation and desire. Capitano's touch was meticulous, his thumb and index delicately moving down the zipper with deliberate slowness, prolonging the tension.
Capitano lets out another low hum as he watches the dress slide down to your ankles, now leaving you only in your undergarments. His hands traced the contour of your body, his touch delicate yet possessive. His own breathing became ragged, the sight of you partially undressed igniting a fire in his eyes.
“Will you allow me to touch you?”
The question makes you turn your head, of course he can.
When you don't stop him from wrapping his arms around you, his chest pressed against your back, he takes it as a green light to continue.
His hand first brushed your hair out of the way, to allow his lips to come in contact with the nape of your neck, “you're so beautiful..." he whispered, his hot breath sending jolts of electricity through your core.
“I don't…” he hesitates, wanting to move his hands away, “i don't want to do anything you don't like.”
And your expression softens at his concern, you turn around to take his face into your hands, your thumbs caressing the apples of his cheeks and he nuzzles into your touch, wrapping a hand around your wrist before pressing a kiss to your palm. You further reassure him by littering his face with your lips, giving every empty space of his skin with at least one kiss.
“Allow me to experience this with you, and i shall take care of you till i take my very last breath.” he hoists you up easily into his arms, rough hand under your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist, he laid you down on the soft sheets, his body covering yours as he looked down at you.
“You occupy my every thought,” he starts, “that it feels sinful to even look at your way.” He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss as his hand continued its exploration, ripping your bra off to cup your breast, feeling your nipple harden under his touch. He rolled it between his fingers, pinching it gently as he deepened the kiss when you gasp, his tongue delving into your mouth, savouring your taste and angelic sounds.
He leaned down afterwards, his mouth latching onto your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and your hands find his ling strands instantly, tugging on them while being careful not to hurt him.
His fingers traced down to your hip, giving them a firm squeeze before ripping your panties off next, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, feeling you writhe and tense up under him.
It felt like an unknown territory you've yet to explore.
Upon sensing your discomfort, he presses his lips to your eyelids, then to your neck, taking his time until you relaxed, until you started feeling good based off how you were bucking your hips now.
Oh how he wanted to take his time with you, but he was aching so bad that if he continues touching you he might just burst embarrassingly fast in his pants.
“Let me in, my wife.” He gently starts massaging your thighs as he parts them, making you feel more exposed than ever, but he distracts you by softly kissing you again and again while he's unbuckling his pants and pushing them down, revealing his throbbing thick, hard cock.
“Capitano—!” you try to squirm away when you feel his tip push into your tight hole, your lips parting from the way he stretched you open, but at the same time you felt relaxed with his soft whispers of ‘take your time’ and ‘you’re doing well, my wife.’
Your cunt soon takes in every inch, swallowing him whole until you were a panting mess, and you didn't even start.
Capitano then began to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, letting you get used to his size, to how you feel, to how he feels as he makes love to you for the first time together.
You feel your heart up to your throat and ears, it felt incredible, something you've never felt before, your soft moans echoing in the air along with a few groans coming from him.
He shivered when he felt your fingertips trace the few scars littering his shoulders and back, his dick twitching almost instantly before his thrusts grew faster, more urgent.
His hand reached down, returning back to draw circles around the bundle of nerves, and he could feel your body tense, your walls clenching around his cock as he continued to rub your clit.
“come for your husband,” he breaths heavily next to your ear, and you come undone, your moans filling the room as he felt you milk his cock. He could feel his own release following after, his balls tightening before he slammed into you one last time, spilling thick ropes into your womb, until you were filled to the brim.
Your legs were shaking slightly around him, yet his warm embrace afterwards made you melt, eyelids heavy with him still being buried inside you.
You groggily woke up, still half in a dream-like state, the room bathed in shadows due to the closed curtains blocking out the morning sun.
As your senses slowly returned to reality, you heard a soft meow next to you, and sure enough, your little kitten had made itself comfortable in the middle of the bed. To your surprise, Capitano, who was still asleep beside you, didn't seem bothered in the slightest by the creature's presence.
“pst,” you whisper to your husband who only hummed in acknowledgment of your attention. “Can we go have a picnic this early morning? With our baby kitten of course.”
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Tags: @sayastyx, @nastylilcvnt, @bigboygoose,
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