#because they are one of the only things keeping me going

[tonycries]

I'm Addicted, I Admit It!

Synopsis. They’re not drunk on alcohol - no, they’re drunk on you and your pretty lil’ pússy.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Choso x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Geto x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, pússydrunk boys, strength differences, bréeding, màting press, desperate boys, manhandling, marking, jealousy (Nanami’s side), praise, degradation, smacking, cúmplay, dirty talk, some HEINOUS things, lowkey fluffy Sukuna, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.5k

A/N. Was originally gonna be something else but I couldn’t get it out of my head so-

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Won’t stop, can’t stop

A pussydrunk Toji Fushiguro promises to break you - and is fully intent on fulfilling these promises. There’s no way he wasn’t with the way he had you folded into a mating press for the third time tonight. 

“Oh hngh- please.” you mewl, begging for- you don’t even know at this point. 

“Fuck.” he hisses into your mouth, and you flinch as his heavy balls smack your ass harder, throbbing cock massaging your gummy walls over and over-

You weren’t going to make it out alive. 

Vision blurry, drool dribbling down the corner of your mouth, his cum gushing out of your overfilled pussy and spreading in a lewd little pool beneath you. You’re beyond the point of cockdrunk at this point - all you can do is sit there and take it while he keeps squeezing himself into you with reckless abandon. 

That little scar on the corner of his mouth rubs against your lips so deliciously as he grimaces in both pain and pleasure. Overstimulating you both to insanity. And fuck, Toji wasn’t even sure if he could cum against but damn if he wasn’t going to try. Just wanting to fill you up one more time- “One more, doll. Not fucking enough.”

And before you know it, your pussy is clenching around nothing. 

“Ngh- T-Toji.” Face sinking into the plush pillow as Toji flips you like a ragdoll. Not even giving you the time to register what’s happening before he’s bullying his thick cock into your dripping cunt from behind. Relishing in that delirious little squeal of surprise that leaves you as he stuffs you full again.

“Shit, fucking squeezing around me so fucking deliciously, sweetheart. Look at ya.” he slurs hoarsely, voice shot. Drinking in your sobbed little, “Ah- jus’ like that. Fuck hngh- keep going-”

Both of you are barely lucid at this point, but it’s all that tiny rational part of himself can do to not fuck into your sloppy pussy like an animal while you clench and flutter around him. Kissing hotly down your spine as you desperately adjust to his massive cock.

But ah you should’ve known - should’ve gotten an inkling of realization at the way his achingly hard cock was throbbing inside your walls at a maddening little bump! bump! bump!

With an impatient little grunt, Toji wraps an arm around your waist to give your quivering cunt a soft little swat! He drinks in your cute lil’ gasp of surprise, reeling back all the way till his angry, red tip was just kissing your sloppy entrance, pushing in quick, short jabs of his hips - more to fit himself deeper inside your snug cunt than anything. 

With each harsh thrust, Toji’s pulling you back onto himself with bruising strength. Forcing you to feel every ridge and vein against all the right places as he stretches you on his cock. “Fuck, you’re incredible.” he murmurs. “Arch more f’me- yeah, that’s it. Tha’s my girl.” 

And oh how you love being thrown around by him this way. Because no more was Toji self-conscious about hurting you like he usually was. 

No, he’s pushing your back down to arch into his dick, still using and bending you however he pleases. And as he flattens his feet on the mattress, putting his body weight onto yours, it’s only a matter of time before you wonder when bones will start breaking.

But it still wasn’t enough. And he’s restless. 

Because Toji’s looping two strong arms around your legs, letting himself fall backwards onto the mattress, hips burning as he keeps fucking you like an animal. Not pausing even as you clench around him in shock. 

“Feels s’fucking heavenly.” he groans, voice raw. “Wan’ one more, sweetheart. Give me one more.” Lacing his fingers above your head to push. Down down down. So fucking filthily. 

And it burns the way he had you so shamefully spread open. At this point you can hardly believe you’re conscious let alone being able to sob out a strangled little, “Yes! Yes yes yes make me cum, Toji. Make me cum all over your cock again.” 

And he does - thumb pressing down on your poor, ravaged clit. Hard. unmoving even as you whine and buck into his touch. Torn between running away and pushing back for more more more- you cum with nothing more than pathetic little tingles that make you milk Toji’s cock desperately. Batting your lashes tearily up at him with a low, “Wan’ you to hah- c-cum insi-.”

You don’t even have to finish the sentence, before Toji’s pumping his seed into you with a strangled groan of what sounds like your name. Nothing more than hot, sticky wisps of cum that trickle down the side, too much for your poor overfilled pussy. Shooting delicate rope after rope until his cock is angry and twitching inside with nothing but blanks.

But in the haze of your high, you hear the way your boyfriend still finds it in himself to chuckle.  A dark little, “One more, sweetheart.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - His, his, his

When Nanami Kento is pussydrunk, everyone will know the day after. 

And by everyone, it’s everyone - from the apartment security guard that blushes and looks away, to your coworkers who titter when you walk in. 

Because Nanami can’t stop himself from claiming each and every inch of your pretty self. Lips searing on your skin, leaking tip dragging along your swollen folds. His precum smearing so filthily across your cunt.

“K-Kento-” you mewl, grinding your hips into his so that he would just fucking ruin you like you wanted him to. 

“Mhm?” he murmurs, nipping along the delicate skin of your neck. Tongue flattening, licking long, languid stripes down like a sort of reverence. “Tell me what you want, my love.”

And if he put an emphasis on the pet name, well, then let it be known that Nanami Kento was a composed man - but that wouldn’t mean he won’t let everyone know you’re his. Even those scrubs that can’t take a hint. 

Which is why his neat fingernails were digging deep into your hips, leaving pretty crescents in their wake. Dragging down ever-so-slightly to leave you all marked up and his. His grip on you only tightens at the pretty lil’ whines that spill from your kiss-bitten lips, “Wan’ you- hah- inside me s’bad.”

“Oh? And who does my girl want inside her pretty lil’ cunt?”

“You! You Kento- ngh-”

Well, whatever his girl wants - she will get. Because Nanami’s immediately pressing his angry, leaking tip into your sloppy pussy, groaning at the way you’re already clamping down on him so deliciously. Not stopping till you were flush against the neat tufts of blond at his base. Barely even giving you time to adjust because you’ve wanted this for so long and you’re sucking him up so well. 

“Ah! Hngh- Fuck. Yeah fuck me just like that- Kento.” you’re tightening your legs around him, letting Nanami all but use you as he thrusts in small, mindless little motions of his hips. Mouth still marking and biting your skin relentlessly. 

His lips leave your neck to whisper against yours, eyes half-lidded and boring into yours. “Love when y’say my name.”

Gasping breathlessly at the bruising grip all on your hips - your sensitive clit - your throat - just everywhere because Nanami can’t get enough of you. And you can do nothing but buck up deliriously as he speeds up his pace. Ramming his thick cock into your sloppy pussy deeper and deeper. “You’re mine, y’know that? All mine. And anyone with eyes can see that.”

Several things happen at once, you let out a strangled moan as Nanami changes his angle to hit that one spot he knew so well. Flushed tip hitting it over and over until you were sure it was bruising. As bruising at the hand kneading your ass, swiftly coming down. Hard. 

Smack!

Nanami’s large handprint sears into your skin. And through the haze, he soothes his hand over the sting. Starting to draw slow, languid circles on your swollen clit like a little apology - but that doesn’t mean he’s going to be any nicer. Not at all - in fact, before you can react, he’s touching any and every inch of skin once more, making sure to leave pretty lil’ marks for days.

And he has to fight that loud, carnal part of himself that just wants to ruin you under his hands here forever, but no - Nanami needs everyone else to see as well. See how you’re so beautifully his.

Smack! 

“So pretty f’me, my girl. All f’me.”

“Yes! Ah- yes yes yes. S’all for you, Kento oh-” you moan brokenly like a mantra. A raw little ah! ah! ah! Leaving your swollen lips each time his twitching balls smack your ass, so wet and sloppy with your slick. You’re sure they leave a mark every time his achingly hard cock bullies into your snug cunt, dipping in and out in and out in and-

“Yeah? Then you’re gonna cum f’me, too, pretty girl?”

“Yes- ah-” Hand on your clit frenzied now, hips out of control. Breath hot against your ear while he holds you down in a bruising grip. So very filthy and all his-

And then you’re cumming. Jolts of electricity sparking down your spine as you cum so hard that you grab at Nanami’s sculpted back for some - any - semblance of sanity. 

The only things on your mind being how hot and heavy he was fucking you through your high, and the sharp sting on the crook of your neck, his canines digging into your delicate skin.

“F-fuck.” he whispers, muffled in your neck. “Squeezin’ me so tight. Ngh-” hips stuttering and so sloppily still meeting yours. Still fucking rock-hard.

And through your glassy vision you manage to make out the pure pride shining in his eyes as he reads the silent question on your face. 

“Not yet, my girl. I still see some blank spots.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Quiet bully

“Mm, not hngh- stopping until you cum again f’me, pretty girl.”

When Geto is pussydrunk you barely even notice at first.

Because he’s the ever-graceful and suave Geto Suguru, even when he’s ramming into your pretty pussy with reckless abandon. Head thrown back, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead, hands bruising on your hips and pulling you to deeper into his hips as he fucks you from behind. 

The only way you do get an inkling of the fact is because he’s so mean. Geto always is in bed - but right now he’s just bullying you. Long index toying with your swollen clit, quick, maddening little motions to get you off for the nth time tonight. 

“But, Suguru!” you mewl, clawing at the sheets, “C-can’t cum again-”

“You will.” he leans down, breath hot against your ear as he whispers, low and gravelly. His abs are rubbing against your back as he keeps his unforgiving pace, “I’ll make sure of it.”

Because Geto doesn’t get drunk on just your pussy - no, he gets drunk off of all of you and how pretty you are when you’re cumming all for him. 

“C’mon, you do it f’me.” he hums, so mockingly innocent that would’ve almost believed him - if it wasn’t for the way he speeds up on your clit. Throbbing cock twitching inside you at the delicate tears streaking down your face. 

Fingers merciless on your clit, balls smacking against your skin, holding you still as he rams into you over and over-

“S-Suguru!” you let out a strangled gasp, white-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes as you cum. And oh he loves that cute lil’ expression on your face, the tears clinging on to your lashes and the way your slutty cunt flutters so filthily around him.

You’re lucky you’re turned away from him, because you don’t see the cruel little smile that curls his lips or the excitement flashing in his darkened eyes. Though, maybe it would’ve better prepared you for when he huffs out a fucked-out, “Tha’s my girl. One more- Hngh- one more.”

Your eyes snap open, a broken little sob leaving you because fuck you weren’t going to make it out alive, Geto was going to absolutely ravage you till you’re ruined-

“O-one more.” Geto groans like a mantra. Flattening his feet on the bed to ram into you at a different angle - one he knew would hit you at that one spot that had you gasping and grinding deeper into his throbbing cock. “One more f-fuck, give me one more-”

If you were in a better state of mind maybe you’d have noticed how fucking sloppy and mean Geto was slamming his cock into your snug pussy. And how his sadistic little hums were becoming more and more strained, turning into broken grunts like he was begging you. Begging himself. Still fucking you like an animal, bodyweight pushing yours down, you crushed underneath him. Trying to milk that last, sweet little orgasm out of you.

“Cum f’me once more, my girl.”

And nothing more has to be said before you’re cumming. Again. Eyes scrunching shut in pain and pleasure as you grab at the headboard for some semblance of stability. 

Honestly, you don’t even have to, because Geto’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against his heated body. Grunting as your cunt desperately tries to milk him for all he’s worth. Brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten in concentration as he holds off cumming. But Geto can’t - won’t right now. Not yet. 

Instead he’s reeling his hips back again, until his angry, red tip was just kissing your sloppy hole. Running on just your cute lil’ whines and the way you were clamping down so deliciously around him. Thrusting in frantic, shallow grinds for now because he was feeling so generous as to ease you into it.

“Suguru! Ah- not again-” you squeal, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks. But whatever plea that comes next gets stuck in your throat as your loving boyfriend utters words that have your cunt clenching exhaustively in anticipation. 

“Now the real fun starts.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Please, baby. Please.”

For Choso, it’s hard to not get drunk off of your pretty lil’ cunt. And he gets so whiny and needy when he does. Barely even squeezing his throbbing cock through the first ring of muscle before he thinks he might just see the pearly gates of heaven - and you were an angel. 

You’re just so warm and sloppy on top of him, slick dripping down to his twitching balls, swallowing him up so deliciously. 

“Ah! Ngh- s-slow down-” you whine, head spinning at the pure stretch of him stuffing you full. His twitching balls were pressed against your ass, veins grazing against your plushy walls, pulsing in a maddening thump! thump! thump! that you can feel in your throat. “S’too big, Cho. I don’t think I can-” 

“No!” he gasps into your skin, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed so deceivingly innocently. “Need it s’bad. Need you so bad- Fuck, I can’t stop-” 

Hips moving mindlessly, fucking up in tiny, shallow little thrusts to bully himself inside you. Not even fully inside you, but he was already so out of control. 

The mattress is creaking deafeningly, a lewd little staccato with the squelches from down below. “Choso-” you whimper, torn between clamping down on his swollen cock to suck him up more desperately and running away. 

“Oh- oh baby, f-fuck. Squeezing m’so tight.” he’s groaning into the crook of your neck, strong arms wrapped so tight around your waist that it almost hurt. “Hngh- Don’t think you can run away from me.” And Choso couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to - barely even giving you time to adjust before he’s milking himself on your dripping cunt. 

Cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips each time he rams himself inside deeper and deeper, you were just gushing around him. Pretty pussy taking him so readily despite your protests. “Need this so hngh- fucking badly. Need this need this need this-”

“F-fuck, Cho- Yes, give it t’me.”

Ah, his head was spinning. The only thoughts running through his mind being how sloppy you were, so wet and squeezing him so perfectly - his pretty girl was taking him so well. 

Blindly, Choso shifts onto his forearms, head craning to graze his lips along the seam of your mouth . Mind too hazy to kiss you properly like he wanted to - but it’s fine, he’ll kiss you silly after this. Fuck, he muses, balls squeezing painfully, just as soon as he cums. 

And you can do nothing more than take it as he chokes out low little moans of your name. Head spinning because his cock was so big and he wasn’t stopping - just wanting to fuck your tight pussy until he-

“Ngh- c-can’t fucking take it anymore, baby. Need to fucking cum.” he grunts, tearing springing to his eyes, sounding like he’s losing a bit of his sanity every time his heavy balls smack your ass. And he needed you to, too - ringed fingers snaking down to draw harsh, frenzied little patterns on your swollen clit. Not even circles because shit Choso doesn’t have the time for that - just wanting to have you gasping and seeing stars as soon as possible. 

“Cho, m’c-close. Ah! Ngh, m’gonna cum, m’gonna cum-” you keen, hips bucking up wildly for more more more- And oh it’s like Choso’s favorite song, because his throbbing cock is twitching inside you so deliciously, thrusts sloppy and unfocused, thumb aching with how fast it was on your clit. 

“Me too, baby. Hngh- m-me too.” he gasps into your open mouth, movements only getting faster and faster and-

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes, and Choso’s hips stuttering - so desperate, so filthy as he shoots thick, hot spurts of cum into your snug cunt. Fucking his seed deeper and deeper into you mindlessly. 

And he can’t stop - he won’t. But you absolutely love it. Because you’ve barely blinked the haze from your eyes before he’s pulling away ever-so-slightly, a hand pushing away the dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Breaths ragged, voice hoarse. 

“Not enough, baby.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Sober thoughts

They say drunk minds speak sober thoughts, and oh how Sukuna wishes that wasn’t the case when he’s fucking you dumb. How he wishes he could stop the strained little grunts that escape him each time his heavy balls smack your ass. 

“Kuna- Ngh- s’too much, c-can’t anymore-”

How he wishes he wasn’t drunk off your cute lil’ whines, and that fucked-out expression on your face as he rams his cock into your pretty pussy. Plunging into your heavenly cunt again and again and- It was too fucking much for him. 

Because it makes him wish he didn’t lean down, whispering softly in your ear, “You can do it, angel. Hah- I I know you will. Hngh- That pretty cunt is made f’me, always taking me so good-”

Ah, you clench so obscenely around his thick cock, shivers running down your spine. Milking him so obscenely as his weeping tip hits your poor cervix over and over. 

“W-wha-?” you blink tearily at him, voice shot. Trying to grasp reality because usually, Sukuna would usually tell you to shut up and fucking take it like the good lil’ slut you are. And if you were in a better state of mind you’d almost be embarrassed at the way he holds such power over you, just a few words of praise and you’re already turning into his personal plaything. 

He huffs out in frustration, leaning down to lick a long, lazy stripe up your cheek, gathering the big fat tears rolling down it on his tongue. And you can’t even think of bringing yourself to be disgusted, because this is Sukuna and he’s always so filthy and mean. 

Except right now, being mean is the last thing on his mind. Murmuring out a strained little “Don’t act so surprised. You know you always milk my cock so well.” drinking in your cute little whimpers. “Shit- like yer trynna suck the s-soul out of me. Never met someone so fucking perfect f’me-”

He thinks he could almost cum right here right now when he sees you snaking down a hand to play with your swollen clit. “But Kuna~” Such an adorable pout appearing on your face when he gently smacks that hand away. Sukuna just wants to kiss it off your swollen lips.

And he does - licking hotly at the seam of your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip while you keen into his. It’s messy - all teeth and spit and adoration. 

Because you might not see it with your eyes half-lidded from the ecstasy, but Sukuna is looking at you with such nauseating heart-eyes. Ones he’d vehemently deny later, of course. But for now he settles for groping a hand down your pretty body, one, long finger rubbing unhurried little circles on your throbbing, achy clit. 

“Don’t worry your pretty lil’ head.”

So different from his unforgiving cock. All push and pull as he fucks you like his sextoy, but kisses you like his God. 

“Ah! Jus’ like that, feels so f-fucking good-” you’re a teary, whimpering mess underneath him. 

“Mhm? Feels s’good, huh?” he groans gutturally. Letting you buck wildly underneath him because shit you look so pretty being all desperate and needy for him. “Squeezin’ me s’tight. Fucking heavenly you are, you’re gonna pay for it if I cum early, angel.”

Your eyes snap open at his delirious confession and the way he seems well and fully intent on breaking you - and talking you nicely through it. It was making your head spin, especially at the way Sukuna get more and more out of control, all sloppy movements and even sloppier words. Slurring out little praises while he stuffed your ravaged cunt faster. Deeper. Pure, carnal need where he usually toyed with you so cruelly. Closer and-

“Cum for me, angel.”

You think you cum at the first word out of his mouth, because you’re seeing stars behind your eyes before Sukuna even finishes the sentence. And he’s not far behind - giving you one, final harsh thrust before filling you up in thick ropes of cum. It gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy as he keeps fucking into you like some animal. Letting out little mutters of how fucking beautiful you were and how heavenly your cunt is and-

And, well, by the time he’s collapsing into your ready arms, Sukuna might not be so pussydrunk anymore. But by God it doesn’t stop the way he nuzzles your hair softly. 

Pulling your sweaty body close to his, so fucked-out and exhausted. So fucking debauched with the way his cum gushes out of you. Hot and sticky, seeping into the sheets and pooling in the nonexistent space between you two. 

So very, very his. 

♡ GOJO SATORU - Shut up!

Gojo Satoru doesn’t shut up - not even when he’s stuffing his cock into your pretty pussy, and especially not when he’s drunk off of the heavenly feeling. Off the sight of you - all swollen lips fallen into a soft oh!, eyes glassy and miles away, so debauched and pretty underneath him - he just has to let you know.

“Look at you. Fucking perfect. Gonna fuck you till I can’t anymore.” he murmurs wetly. “Gonna make it feel so good f’you. Gonna have y’milk my cock until there’s nothing to milk.”

And Gojo swears he isn’t pussydrunk - but the way he’s babbling into your tits says otherwise. Looking up at you through his long lashes with dazed, hooded eyes, words muffled around your tit but still he keeps running his mouth. 

“Hngh- S’fucking tight and hot around me.” he murmurs, hips snapping to meet yours, milking himself mindlessly on your snug cunt. So hard that it almost hurt at the sting of skin-on-skin. “God, could stay like this f-forever.”

He was getting so loud now. Mixing with the sloppy squelches from below.

“You could, too, huh? Drunk on my cock enough to? Y’look like it-”

That makes your cheeks heat up. “Satoru-” You scramble to hastily cover Gojo’s mouth, stopping that sweet sweet voice from saying the most filthy things. You can feel his smug little grin underneath your fingertips, and you almost know what’s coming- before he licks a long, amused stripe up your palm.

Snatching your hand back, you sigh - as best you could when your boyfriend was ramming his thick cock inside you - “Satoru! What did I say about-”

“But you make it so easy, sweetheart.” he whines, hands roaming all over your body. Gripping and kneading every inch of skin he could reach before resting at your swollen clit. Pooling your sweet juices on his fingertips, drawing featherlight circles around the nub like he was trying to convince you. “Don’t lie. Y’like this big mouth. Love it even.”

Unlike Gojo - it’s hard to get your words out when he’s bullying his cock into your dripping cunt. Ramming into you over and over-

“Admit it. Don’t you love it? Love hearing me talk fucking filthy to you like this?” His words were coming out fast now, mixing with your cute whines and the heady air of the room. Each one punctuated by a brutal, harsh into your dripping cunt. 

Fingers working magic on your sensitive clit while his cock ravages you below. And the great Gojo Satoru does not give a fuck about your hushed whispers about how your neighbours are home or how “this is the fifth time they’ve complained.”

Because his girl’s pretty lil’ cunt is fucking perfect and he needs you to know.

Gojo presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck. Thrusts growing more and more careless. Losing his sanity with each stroke - with each word that comes out of his mouth. “I know you like it.” he groans, “I can see it in your eyes, n’ the way this slutty lil’ pussy squeezes me so fucking tight.”

Dragging - not pushing - you both closer to the edge. Frantic now, syllables slurring together and Gojo’s hips stuttering into yours. Drunk off of you and your cunt and the way he can’t stop talking and talking and-

“Yes,” your words were a barely audible whisper - but Gojo hears. Of course, he does. “I love it. Fucking love it, Toru.”

And then he’s cumming - and cumming so hard that Gojo thinks he’ll never be able to stop. Not, that he’d ever want to.

Because Gojo keeps pumping the thick, hot spurts of cum oozing out of him into your sloppy pussy. And shit you look so pretty underneath him, his seed dribbling down your thighs, eyes fluttering shut as you cream around his cock. And, of course, he has to let you know - babbling about how cute you were milking his cock and how warm and wet.

And Gojo’s still running his mouth as he pulls out, over your disappointed little mewl. All the way down till he’s swiftly centered between your open legs. Breath fanning your cunt, a devilish grin curling his lips.

“Time to help you remember exactly how much you love this big mouth.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo x reader #geto x reader #sukuna x reader #nanami x reader #gojo smut #geto smut #sukuna smut #nanami smut #tonywrites #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #choso x reader #choso smut #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #gojo x reader smut #toji x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #toji fushiguro smut #nanami x reader smut #choso x reader smut #geto x reader smut

[rowanswriting]

ROOOOWWWWWWW

REQUESTS ARE OPEN YOU SAY???

Self indulgent because I’m that bitch.

Maybe shy/ditsy reader (cause I love her) who is like so innocent and quiet out in public and in private is the neediest horniest depraved little slut for her man (obvs can be gender neutral) with either Steve or Eddie, or steddie x reader whatever your heart desires.

I HOPE THIS ISNT A SHIT REQUEST ITS TWO AM AND IM TIRED

- hellfiremunsonn (Lillie) 🩷

Freak Like Me - E.M.

thank you so much for the request lovey! I hope this is everything you envisioned! @hellfiremunsonn ily! 🫶🏽

Word count- 1.3K

Warnings - pussy slapping, dirty talk, p in v sex, female masturbation (Eddie helps), Eddie teases you, if I miss something please tell me and I’ll be sure to add it here!

-feel free to reblog & interact it’s much appreciated thank you all for reading! I really hope you enjoy this! 18+ only!

“Where you going sugar?” Eddie’s husky voice says from behind you. One of his ringed hands coming up to grip on your shoulder. You feel your knees go weak, trying your best to remain standing as you look around at all his friends. They’re all watching you as you turn to look at Eddie. “Back to the van… if that’s okay, Sir.” You mumble out. A few of his friends chuckle as you hide your face, flushing from embarrassment. He nods, leaning forward and kissing your cheek softly before handing you the keys. “It’s all yours baby be there soon.” You listened as Eddie continued talking about some dnd campaign, the sound of his voice drowning out behind you.

He’d made a spectacle of you all night long, teasing you in front of everyone. He knew exactly what it did to you, you’d almost not agreed to come out tonight because you knew this would happen. Eddie loves teasing you, and his friends love it even more, watching you babble when he asks you a question because only a minute before he had said something incredibly dirty. The wide smirk on his face causes you to stutter as you squeeze your legs together, praying that no one will be able to see. They do. This time you decide not to stick around to hear the remarks they’d make.

You slowly open the door to his van, hopping up inside and slamming yourself back onto his seat. The uncomfortableness of your panties sticking to you is too much to handle, so you lift your hips, sliding them down your legs before throwing them in the back seat. All you can think of when you slip your fingers down to flip up your skirt is Eddie’s voice, the way he mocks you, laughs at you, the sweet nothings he’ll whisper to you once he has you all to himself. “Fuck.” You whimper out, your fingers lightly grazing against your clit.

You shuffle around a bit angling yourself so when Eddie opens the door he’ll have a perfect view of what belongs to him. To his friends, you’re shy and reserved, innocent even. Eddie knew the real truth about you and you were none of those things. Your eyes close as you get lost in the moment, you bite your lip hard enough that you’re sure it’ll bleed as you circle your fingers around your clit, the sensations running throughout your body as you moan quietly. “Please Eddie.” You cry out, sliding down against the passenger door.

“Well ain’t this a pretty picture.” Your eyes snap back open as a sick smile breaks out across your face. “Knew you wouldn’t keep me waiting long.” You say, giggling as Eddie climbs up into the drivers seat. He’s quick with the door, slamming it before turning to look back at you. Your fingers are still working over yourself, only going faster now that he’s watching. You go to stop but he grabs your wrist, guiding your hand down. “Oh please honey, don’t stop because of me. Let me see how desperate you are.”

You nod, your eyes half open from the pleasure as Eddie pushes two of your own fingers inside yourself. You groan at the feeling, it’s messy but you couldn’t love it more. The sounds of wet squelching and your moans fill up the van as Eddie’s eyes burn with lust. They’re latched onto where the both of you are moving together. “This is so good, but I really need you Ed’s please.” You beg. He shakes his head, holding your hand down, rocking your fingers in and out slowly. “I didn’t say you could stop babydoll.” He whispers as you buck your hips up, grabbing at his wrist with the hand that isn’t buried deep inside you.

Eddie leans back, sitting on his knees as he watches you. He pulls his hand away slowly and makes you do all the work as he palms himself lazily over his pants. “I wish they could see you now baby, absolutely pathetic and I haven’t even given you the real thing yet.” He says, your eyes threatening to roll back into your head as a loud moan rips its way from your throat. “Fuck. Please.” You whine, your heartbeat speeding up as the tight cord winding itself in your stomach threatens to break. A bead of sweat makes its way down the side of your face as you buck your hips up again, meeting the thrusts of your own fingers.

You sit up a little, your body trembling as you watch Eddie slowly unbuckle his belt. You trail your eyes up to his face where he’s biting his lip, his eyes staring into yours as you continue to pleasure yourself. He laughs a little when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. “Aww darlin’ you’re so ready aren’t you? Go ahead, let me see you cum, give me a show baby.” It takes you no more than a small thrust of your fingers before you’re letting go. Your wetness spreads all over yourself and down onto Eddie’s seat as he watches. You can hear him talking you through it but the blood rushing behind your ears keeps you from hearing what he’s actually saying.

He gives you no time to recover, you hear something rush past you into the back of the van before Eddie’s on you like a wild animal. He slowly strokes himself a few times, rubbing the head of his cock right against your clit as you squirm underneath him crying and begging for him to fuck you already. He stops teasing only to reach down and slap your pussy, once, twice, three times. You yelp and just as you go to sit up to scold him he thrusts into you, practically knocking the wind out of your lungs. “Y’gonna scream for me sugar? Let all my friends hear how much of a slut you really are for me?”

“F-uckkk Eddie please!” You scream out, the slapping of Eddie’s skin against yours growing louder as he thrusts harder than before. He reaches under your ass to pull you up some, angling you just right so with every thrust his cock rubs up against your g-spot. “That’s it sugar, it’s okay I got you, let go. Cum on this dick and let everyone hear who makes you feel this good.” Your body trembles beneath him, your stomach flips at his dirty words as you look down and watch him sliding in and out of you. The drag of his cock, enough to make you feel like you’re on another planet entirely as you finally give up. Your eyes roll back as your mouth babbles on, Eddie grips onto your hips, his blunt nails digging into your skin as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. His deep moans blend with yours creating a delicious melody as he fills you up.

You hear him laugh as you both come down from your high, he slowly pulls out of you leaving you empty and sore as you open your eyes to look up at him. “What’s so funny?” You say, your voice rough from how loud you were being, he smiles at you before leaning down to kiss your forehead, moving some of the hair that’s stuck to it away. “Oh, s’nothin. Just thinking how funny it is that you’re a freak, and they have no idea.” You bite your lip before giggling, slapping his arm slightly as you sit up to fix your clothes. You don’t bother with finding your panties as you watch Eddie reach into the back of the van, grabbing his pants. “Well, next time maybe we’ll have to give them a real show, Eddie.” You whisper, running your tongue up the side of his ear, his cock throbs at your words, a low moan slipping from his lips.

tag list- @voyeurmunson @vecslut @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @josephquinnsfreckles

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #southern!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #stranger things smut #joseph quinn smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female character #eddie smut

[ashwhowrites]

Well, I'm feeling a bit petty lately. So say, Y/N and Eddie is in a relationship but another girl is hitting on him and rubbing it in Y/N's face and she has told Eddie "please, tell this girl off, because it's not fun what she's doing." But Eddie, that has only seen the sweet side of the other girl tells her 'there's nothing you have to worry about', maybe he likes the attention even though he's faithful to Y/N.

So one night when Y/N and Eddie is going to have a date night this girls calls is needs him for whatever reason and Eddie just says "be right back, babe."

And that's where Y/N draw the line. She usually stays at Eddie's and Wayne's but now she packs up her stuff and goes home and when Eddie comes back and gets frantic, she doesn't answer her phone and when he comes to her house to visit she just says: Why aren't you with "other girls name"? She's the one you treat as a girlfriend after all?" and close the door in his face.

And Eddie realizes he has fucked upp for real this time - for real real and maybe even gets a talking to by Wayne.

But it ends happily please?

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻 I tried my best to make it a happy ending and still keeping Eddie at blame.

Who's your girlfriend?

Y/N and Eddie's relationship never had arguments or disagreements. They worked perfectly together. But lately, a new girl shook things up.

Her name was Maddie, and Y/N hated her. She was a waitress at the hideout. Eddie and Y/N spent most of their time at the hideout, cuddled in their booth. It was something Y/N looked forward to every day, but now it sucked.

Maddie knew Eddie was taken, and she didn't care. She spent most of her shifts flirting with Eddie and it pained Y/N that he never told her to back off.

"Anything else?" Maddie asked, her attention on Eddie.

"We are all set, thank you." Eddie smiled, taking the check from Maddie's hand. She smiled back and walked off.

"Help me with the math?" Eddie asked as he handed Y/N the receipt. Y/N went to calculate a tip when she noticed tiny scribbles in the corner.

"What a bitch!" Y/N snarled, slamming the receipt on the table. "She wrote her fucking phone number."

"So? Ignore it." Eddie shrugged, digging cash out of his wallet.

"Ignore it? Eddie! She flirts with you all the time, and I try to ignore it. But this is straight disrespect. And I think you need to say something." Y/N explained.

"She doesn't mean it, you know waitresses do the most for a tip."

"I think she wants more than just the tip, Eddie," Y/N growled, and she slid out of the booth. Eddie followed after.

"Don't be like that. You know I've only got eyes for you." Eddie said, throwing his arm over her shoulder. But she shrugged him off and crossed her arms. She marched out of the bar, and Eddie tried to keep up.

"You're right, I'm sorry. Next time I'll say something." Eddie promised, grabbing her hand to make her stop.

Y/N sighed and kicked at the rocks in the parking lot.

"You will?" She asked, her sad eyes looking up at him.

"Of course." He said. Y/N let it go, holding his hand as they walked to his van and went home.

~

Y/N took deep breaths as they walked into the hideout. She was excited to finally see Eddie put Maddie in her place.

They sat down in their booth, no surprise Maddie was ready to serve them immediately. Her eyes stayed on Eddie as he ordered their drinks.

"You got it, handsome." Maddie flirted and then walked off.

Y/N kicked Eddie under the table, giving him a look. Her eyes hinted at Maddie.

"She's a nice girl, baby. Just being friendly." Eddie reassured her, moving closer to wrap his arm around her shoulder.

Y/N rolled her eyes but dropped it. The night was young and there would be plenty of time for Eddie to shut Maddie up. Y/N cuddled into his shoulder. She held the hand that hovered over her shoulder and pecked his jaw.

Maybe them being so cuddled up would help Maddie get the hint.

It didn't

Towards the end of their date, Maddie and Eddie got in a conversation about rock bands. Eddie removed his arm to talk with his hands. Y/N felt like the third wheel as she slurped down her drink.

Y/N was ready to leave. She couldn't sit here and watch them talk like she didn't exist.

"Excuse us, but we are leaving," Y/N said, standing up as she got out of the booth. She didn't care what Eddie had to say, she yanked him out of his spot.

"Oh, um bye!" Maddie rushed out as Y/N dragged Eddie out of the door.

"Well, that was rude." Eddie scoffed

"Rude? What was rude was you two acting like I wasn't even there! What was rude is that you told me you'd tell her off and you sat there like an idiot!" Y/N huffed, letting go of his hand as they made it to the van.

"She wasn't doing anything! We were having a friendly conversation." Eddie defended, starting the van.

"Friendly? Yeah right. I didn't know friendly conversations meant she'd be rubbing your arm and giggling at every fucking word. Trust me, babe. You are not that funny." Y/N said she knew she was being bitchy but she was beyond pissed.

"Why don't we talk about this when you calm down?" Eddie offered, peeling out of the parking lot.

But she never calmed down. She slammed the trailer door behind her as she marched into Eddie's room.

"Baby, come on let's talk" Eddie tried

"Nope. You didn't want to talk in the car so oh well. I am going to bed." She said, stripping out of her clothes and changing into pajamas she always left at Eddie's.

Eddie sighed but got ready for bed as well. He bit his lip as they lay in silence. She refused to cuddle him or let him touch her. She was on her side with her back towards him.

"Look I'm sorry." He said, his hand touched her shoulder but she slapped it away.

"Sorry, my ass. Go to bed." She snapped.

A few minutes passed, and both lay in silence.

Eddie groaned as his phone rang, he slipped out of bed to answer. Y/N turned on the lamp and sat up confused. It was very late for someone to be calling and she was worried that Dustin or someone needed help.

"Yeah, I'll be right there," Eddie said and he hung up.

"What's going on?" Y/N asked, moving to her knees.

"Maddie needs a ride home. I'll be right back." Eddie said he slipped on his pants and his jacket.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll be right back! Just go to sleep, love." Eddie said, leaning down and kissing her forehead.

"Edward Munson, do not go pick up that girl," Y/N growled, her tone was deep and angry. Eddie felt a little nervous as she glared.

"She called me! I can't just leave her at work." Eddie tried to defend.

"Yeah, she can stay at work until her next shift. Or call someone else. I'm sure she's got family and friends." Y/N shrugged. Then it clicked, she had Eddie's number. Y/N's face hardened and Eddie stepped back.

Her feet landed on the floor as her finger stabbed into Eddie's chest. He walked backward until his body hit his wall.

"She has your number, which means you called her! Which means you kept that receipt with her number on it." Y/N seethed. She couldn't believe her boyfriend kept Maddie's number.

"Yes, I did. But it was just as friends!" Eddie tried to defend himself.

"You knew I didn't like that she did that. You knew that I thought it was disrespectful towards our relationship."

"But I don't see it like that! I truly don't see an issue."

"Don't see the issue? I thought I made it clear. She's into you and you are leading her on because you enjoy the attention." Y/N said, her anger turning into a bit of sadness. Her boyfriend was enjoying the attention of someone else.

"I really need to go get her. And we can talk when I get back?" Eddie asked, Y/N stepped back and let him move away from the wall.

She was done talking and she was done listening. She nodded but didn't say a word. She kept her eyes on the floor as Eddie grabbed his keys and left.

Y/N refused to cry, she sniffled and took a deep breath. As she heard the van's engine start, she started to pack. She grabbed the nearest bag she could find and threw everything she had in it. If Maddie wanted Eddie so damn bad, she could have him. It wasn't like Eddie didn't already pick her a thousand times over Y/N anyway.

"You okay, kid?" Y/N looked up from her frantic packing. Wayne stood at Eddie's door with a sad smile.

"Uh yeah. I'm sorry if we woke you up." Y/N apologized, and she zipped up the bag.

"I'm sorry he's an idiot. He's going to realize soon, it takes Eddie a bit to see the real picture." Wayne sighed.

"Yeah well I'm not going to wait for him to see it," Y/N said, she had the bag on her shoulder and walked past Wayne.

"Let me drive you home." Wayne offered, as he grabbed his keys.

~

Eddie yawned as he finally got back home. It was nearly two am and he was exhausted. He was mentally exhausted by what was behind the door. He didn't want to have to argue with Y/N all over again.

Eddie walked into the trailer, shocked to see Wayne sitting on the couch.

"Why are you awake?" Eddie asked

"Why are you just getting home?" Wayne asked

"A friend needed a ride home." Eddie shrugged, as he took off his shoes and jacket. "But I'll talk to you in the morning. I don't want to keep Y/N waiting."

"She left," Wayne said, a disappointed tone in his voice.

"What? Why?" Eddie asked, he looked into his bedroom and his heart stopped. Half of his room was missing, all her stuff was nowhere to be seen.

"Go find out. And for once, listen to her." Wayne said as he walked back into his own room.

Eddie threw back on his shoes and jacket and headed back out.

He wasn't sure how many laws he broke as he pulled into Y/N's driveway. He climbed up the tree that led him straight to her window. He tapped on the glass, the light was on so he knew she was still awake.

Y/N yanked open her curtains to see Eddie. She rolled her eyes but opened the window.

"What are you doing here?" She sighed, crossed her arms, and blocked him from coming inside.

"You left, of course, I'm going to come get you," Eddie said, she ignored his puppy eyes and kept her ground.

"Right. After you were done with Maddie, right?" Y/N said

"Look Y-" but Y/N cut him off.

"No, Edward. We've talked about it, I've said how I've felt and you don't care. A friendship with Maddie is too important to you. So how about you leave me the fuck alone and go back to the girl you actually treat like a girlfriend. We're done." Y/N snapped, she slammed down her window and closed the curtains. This time she allowed herself to cry, she turned off her light so he couldn't see her shadow. She heard him knocking but she refused. She ignored his cries and pleas, she crawled into bed and allowed herself to cry to sleep.

~~~

Eddie paced in the living room all night. He waited for Wayne to wake up because he had no idea what to do. He knew he brushed how Y/N felt, but he thought it was jealousy. He didn't know she'd break up with him over it. He kicked himself for not truly listening and fixing the issue at the start.

Wayne walked out and Eddie ambushed him before he even made it to the hallway.

"She broke up with me. What do I do?" Eddie rushed out, the panic in his voice made him sound shaky.

"I'm sorry, Eddie. But I can't tell you what to do." Wayne said as he walked into the kitchen.

"Wayne, please. I can't let this girl go. If I knew how to fix it, I would have done it last night. I stayed up thinking and thinking but I was scared. What if I fucked up too bad? What if she never wants to be with me again?" Eddie panicked. His hands were in his hair as he yanked in frustration.

"Eddie, that girl told you the problem a thousand times. Listen to what she said, and you'll know what to do. But don't wait, do it now. A girl like that deserves way more than you offered her. I didn't raise you to hurt girls." Wayne lectured as he poured his coffee.

~

Eddie knew what he needed to do. He raced to Y/N's. Luckily it was a normal time so he could use the front door. He knocked and waited.

Y/N opened the door and went to slam it but Eddie caught it with his foot.

"Please, just give me a second to apologize."

Y/N sighed and opened the door.

"I'm sorry for pushing your feelings aside. I'm sorry for being a dick, and a bad boyfriend. I should have said something to Maddie the first time you felt uncomfortable. I'm sorry for everything and for making you upset. I know I don't deserve it, but I'm going to hate myself forever if I don't try to save this relationship. If I woke up one morning, alone in my thirties, knowing I could have had you right next to me and I didn't try for it. So please," he dropped to his knees and grabbed her hand. "Let me show you I heard you."

Y/N was confused about what it all meant, but she knew she loved Eddie and if there was a way to fix it, she wanted to do it.

"Okay, fine. What's your plan?" Y/N asked. Eddie jumped to his feet and grabbed her hand. He closed her front door and dragged her to his car.

"What are you doing?" She asked, but Eddie just had a big smile on his face.

"Something I should have done a long time ago." He said as he began to drive.

Y/N sat silently as she took in her surroundings. It clicked that they were heading to the hideout.

"Isn't it a little early to drink?" Y/N teased as Eddie pulled up into the parking lot.

"Yes, but that's not why we are here," Eddie said, he got out of the van and opened her door. He grabbed her hand and walked up to the front door, but didn't go in.

"Are we not going in?" Y/N asked

"We are, just need to do something first," Eddie said.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she saw Maddie walk up. She wasn't dressed in uniform so Y/N assumed she wasn't working.

"You wanted to see me?" Maddie asked, nervously looking at Eddie.

Y/N looked confused between both of them.

"Maddie, I am completely in love with Y/N. I know it was wrong of me to feed into your flirting. Even if I only wanted to be friends, I realize now it makes my girl uncomfortable and that's what matters the most. I also know now that your actions towards me were disrespectful to my relationship and whatever you thought was happening, is not happening. I've deleted your number, so I'd like it if you didn't call me ever again and never talked to me again." Eddie said, Y/N tried to hold back her laugh as steam came out of Maddie's ears.

Maddie didn't say anything, she stomped off and mumbled curse words under her breath.

"I know it doesn't fix everything. But I hope it's a start." Eddie said.

"It's definitely a start." Y/N smiled, holding Eddie's hand as they walked into the hideout. She gasped as she saw the whole small bar lit up in fairy lights, their booth had candles and a display of breakfast foods.

"Oh wow."

"Would you join me for a breakfast date?" Eddie asked his hand gestures towards the table.

"Oh absolutely," Y/N smiled as she walked towards their booth.

It was a start in the right direction. Maddie was out of their hair, and fixing their relationship could have all their attention.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #ashwhowrites

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 10:32

You tell Bakugou once that you don’t know how to take the train home, and he almost blasted your ears off with semi-yelling (or full-on yelling at some point) insults. 

“Hah?” He scoffs, eyes narrowing. This information is new to him, and a surprising one at that. 

You? The nerd that always bested him when it came to academics, which pissed him off the first few months in U.A.? The person who was not only book smart but was street and people smart as well? 

The whole goddamn package doesn’t know how to take the train?

Really?

He’s calling bull.

“What do you mean you don’t know how to take the train home? What kind of idiot doesn’t know that?”

“I just—“ you’re abashed and really don’t know what to say, “I didn’t really— I’ve never had the chance to take one until now!” For a consistent honors student, you can’t really have everything, can you?

“How’ve you been getting to school and back, then?”

“We had a driver—“

“Fuckin’ course—“

“But hey! Listen—in my defense—my schools were usually a walking distance from our house.”

“And now what? Gonna stand here and wait for a miracle to happen?”

You nudge his side with a frustrated frown (more like a pout, Bakugou thinks.) “Quit it, asshole.”

He backtracks briefly, though you could barely tell at this point. And it’s clear enough that he takes your words into consideration. It could be the fact that you actually look scared shitless right now, something foreign to your typical lax and carefree persona.

“C’mon.” Bakugou grabs you by the arm.

“Ow— hey! Where are we going?”

“You have to learn somehow, or else you’ll look fuckin’ clueless and dumb, nerd.”

You don’t argue because you really just wanted to get home, and while you could just call in your driver, you considered that this was important information that would help you in the long run. Besides, you do agree with Bakugou that not knowing how to commute like this is embarrassing, especially at your age.

“What’s this?” 

Bakugou hands you a card. It’s decorated with a minimalist logo of Musutafu’s native flower, whose color is your favorite.

“An IC card,” he simply answers.

It’s cute, you thought. You noticed how the other commuters had the standard design, so Bakugou must've gotten it personalized to your preference. How thoughtful.

“You could’ve just helped me get a ticket, though,” you murmur. You fiddle with the card in your hand, glancing at him with a puzzled expression. “I don’t think I’ll be using this card that often. It’ll be a waste.”

“Then try and use it as often as you can, nerd.”

“I’ll pay you back for this—how much was it?”

“Forget it.”

“Really, Bak—“

“Forget it,” he barks. “Keep up, you shitty extra. Or else you’d miss the last train to your station.” Bakugou starts walking, and you follow suit.

You can load your IC card at the ticket machines or the nearest ATMs. Different stations call for different ticket gates that obviously have different fares. The expiration of cards usually depends on what provider you got them from—

“What do I do now?”

You’re hesitantly in front of the ticket gate, with Bakugou on the other side. You’re like a kid who’s lost their mother in the mall.

“Just—“ Bakugou had to take a deep breath and not make a scene in the train station. He pinched the bridge of his nose, calling for all his ancestors to give him the strength to remain patient.

“Place your shitty card on the card reader. That’s it.”

You do as you’re taught, and you awed when the gates opened and let yourself walk through with a stupidly big smile on your face. “I did it!”

Bakugou thinks it’s fucking stupid of him to think that your enthusiasm for mundane things was cute. But fuck, something must be wrong with him because suddenly he feels a flurry of butterflies lodged in his throat, his heart beating ridiculously fast. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

He gives you directions, how to navigate through Musutafu without getting lost, and the basic stations you’ll be passing by to get to your station. He sees you type most of the things he says on your phone, and the way you were so eager to learn was a sight to see, really.

Boarding the metro, people were just as eager to get home as you two. So you two stood, not that there was much room to do anything about it.

“Hold onto the handle unless you want to fall on your ass,” Bakugou says. His tone is hushed to not disturb the other passengers. At least he followed basic commuting etiquette. 

“It’s so beautiful,” you breathe out. The passing buildings were as huge as those of U.A.’s, if not bigger. With the golden hue of the apparent descent of the sun below the horizon, Musutafu just became more beautiful in your eyes.

He scoffs.

“What’s so interestin’ about a buncha tacky buildings? Never seen one before you came here?”

“Of course I have; they’re just not like this.”

Bakugou follows your line of sight, and he thinks about it carefully. He couldn’t see what you saw, but maybe it’s because he grew up looking at this scenery. It doesn’t amaze him as much as it did when he was younger, he concludes. To you, this was a first. 

An experience that could become a core memory in this city. And he’s with you as you live through it. The thought causes a familiar feeling of pride to exude from his chest.

Maybe he’ll learn to appreciate more mundane things with you too in the future.

The train stops at another station, and the people scurry out. Once in motion, you were surprised by the speed when it took off, and the motion had you stumbling back. You stumble against Bakugou.

“What did I say about keeping a firm hold on the handles, you shitty extra? That’s what those are for.” Whether it’s by instinct or unintentional, Bakugou guides your hand to hold onto the support pole. He doesn’t let go, and you didn’t make a comment about it.

“Sorry! Still getting used to it,” you quietly laugh. “I hope the people here don’t think I’m really that inexperienced when it comes to taking the metro home,” you told him. “It’s embarrassing to think that I haven’t taken one until now.”

Bakugou thinks it’s alright because you were actually on set to learn. No matter what those other extras say or comment, no matter if they give you unimpressed glances, he’s there to grant them one of his own spine-chilling glares if they had the balls to do so. 

A passenger who appeared to be around your age stood up from his seat. “Excuse me, you can take my seat. I get off at the next stop,” he says. You’re a bit hesitant to take the offer, but he reassures you that it’s fine. It’ll be an awkward death for you if you don’t accept it, because now he’s standing. “Please, I insist.”

Unknown to you, Bakugou had an obvious scowl on his face until the stranger left.

“You look like you’re about to shit yourself.”

“Shut up, I’m not.”

“Jealous?”

“Hah? Why would I be—”

“Shh!” you kicked his shoe with yours.

“Quiet, remember?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, still frowning. You hold his free hand, cheekily smiling when he tries to free it from your hold. And in the end, he lets you do whatever the fuck it is that you want, but he would never ever admit that he was jealous of some nameless extra. He’s too far into liking you to help you board a train, get you a personalized IC card, miss his stop two stations ago because yours was still three stations after his, but he doesn’t think he’d be vocal about it anytime soon.

He’ll leave it to you to confess.

Then again, you already knew.

Bakugou Katsuki would not go above and beyond like this for anyone else, but he unknowingly does for you.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou fluff #bakugou drabble #bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo drabble #mha x reader #mha fluff #mha drabbles #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha drabble #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou

[lilmashae]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ husband jake with baby fever 🎀

i feel like jake would have crazy baby fever — especially after becoming a dad too. every time he fucks you he does it with the intentions of getting you pregnant again. while he’s relentlessly thrusting into you he grunts all sorts of things in your ear.

“shit, princess… ‘squeezing me so — so tight! ‘you keep sucking me in like this i might cum inside…”

but that’s mild — for jake at least. he’s got you folded in half, your thighs bent into your stomach with your arms desperately wrapped around his neck. if there’s one thing jake loves, it’s the feeling of your nails digging into the flesh of his back — which only gets him even more riled up.

when he really gets going though… there’s no return as he’s completely lost.

“fuck, baby, i love this cunt… ‘so so pretty for me, yeah? shit, makes me want to fuck you full…” if you weren’t so overstimulated and flustered you’d scold him — it’s embarrassing hearing him talk like that, but only because of how wet it makes you. “‘want to have another baby… can i give you one? please, please, please, y/n! i just want to make you a mommy again — ‘love it when your glowing and your tummy’s all swollen and your tits are — fuck!” and with that he’s cum inside of you and all over himself.

he’s feeling proud after with a lazily grin, his arms are still wrapped tightly around you. don’t you dare try to get up to wipe either of you clean — “where ‘you going, baby..?” jake sandwiches his face between your boobs, breathing you in. “‘want to clean up…” you tiredly whine and he peeks up at you through his hair. “in a little bit.” “jake…” he only ignores you, lying back down into your chest. “‘got to keep you plugged full of my cum… got to make sure…” softly pecking at your skin, he smiles and you admit defeat. however a little bit turns into the next day as you wake up with sticky white fluid dripping down your legs.

lazy drabble for tonight because im feeling kind of good 🫶🏽

#lil-ma-shae #enha smut #enhypen smut #jake smut #sim jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #jaeyun smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enha hard hours #enha hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours

[hazelfoureyes]

⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania

˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2

˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 (keep reading)

Alastor lets you leave the hotel! Together! For soup. Later, your plans to make Alastor lose his obsession backfire. But like, in a hot way so you’re not that mad about it. A+ for effort?

˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦

「warnings/promises: smut, I once again misuse a fucking prayer in a sacrilegious way, soup, spoon feeding, Angel texts, so much cum, bondage, tentacles, just good ole fashion fucking in the radio station, not quite dubcon but Alastor doesn’t really listen, hell has twitter and lets be real it’s just normal twitter, giant Alastor, Horse Luci」

Minors DNI ♥️ 🧹lovingly

You finally managed to leave the hotel. It was of course with Alastor at your side, microphone pressing into the small of your back like a third arm. It was as if he worried you’d just turn around and run.

He opened every door, pulled out your chair, and when your left hand shook and dropped your food he took on the task of feeding you. It was embarrassing, to say the very least. The sinners in the restaurant staring, a brave few filming or typing furiously on their phones.

You got a buzz on your own cell, a gift from Angel when he realized Alastor wouldn’t let you speak with others alone. 

He texted a link to a post on some hell site, to a photo of you right then, at that exact moment, being spoon fed by the radio demon. You considered smashing your head into the table until you blacked out. If you got up and left would you make it back to the hotel before someone realized you weren’t a sinner? You were absolutely terrified of someone noticing you as heaven sent.

Heaven kicked? Heaven thrown. Yeah that one felt right.

“You need to eat. You can’t heal like this.” Alastor sounded concerned, but you fought the urge to care. 

He hadn’t apologized to Husk, but Husk did say Alastor seemed to avoid eye contact which was basically a gift to him. Alastor had come to your room to dress you the next day as he always did, neither of you mentioning the day before. The hall was magically pristine by the time you left.

A tiny sliver of you thought he felt embarrassed. But decades of experience told you that Mania didn’t afford embarrassment, the stricken couldn’t be truly manic if something like that was holding them back.

Maybe it had been such a shallow cut he hadn’t gotten the full punch of Mania?

Another attempt to feed yourself, slowly bringing your spoon to your mouth, “You know when I heal I am going to finish my task and leave, right?” 

An odd laugh, a non-existent tear wiped away, “Adorable. No. I promise you, that won’t happen.”

“Alastor.” You put the spoon down with a clink.

“I love when you say my name. May I offer you more reasons to hold it in your mouth?”

“Al-,” you groaned, “I can’t stay forever.”

He hummed, a show of pretending to think about what you said, “Wrong! You can. And I argue, you will.”

You tried again with the spoon, regretting soup. Your appetite had been shot for awhile and it seemed easy enough. Wrong. Again. There was a constant tremble to your hands since arriving. Perhaps experiencing pain for the first time was rattling your body so much that it couldn’t cope. “Why would I ever do that? This is literal hell.”

Alastor leaned over, taking the spoon from you with ease and bringing it to your mouth, “Because I’ll make you understand it’s where you belong. They didn’t appreciate you,” his grin widened, “Not like I do. Like I can, if you’d let me.”

Annoyed and flustered, you took the help to eat. “Thank you.” A spoonful, “How can you say that though? I’m the one and only Cupid.”

“Actually, no. You’re not. You are just the current incarnation. They’ll replace you.” 

You regretted telling him that. They could. Just replace you, that is. There was nothing stopping them. You stared into your soup, lips curling down.

“Don’t look so defeated. I’ll make you happy, for eternity.” 

Your eyes rolled. “When do you plan on starting that eternal happiness?”

You didn’t look at him when you said it, but you could see his hand slow, then become completely still. Had you wounded him?

He pivoted, “Doesn’t Cupid have wings?”

Another spoonful, “Of course.”

Alastor waited while you took a drink, determined to make you eat the entire bowl, “Where are they?”

A pause. Where were they? You hadn’t realized you couldn’t feel them. They weren’t everpresent, but their weight still sat between your shoulder blades at all times. Always. Normally. But now? 

“You don’t know? That’s troubling.” Alastor read your face with ease.

You shot him a look. Stop doing that. Stop replying to unspoken thoughts.

“Apologies.”

Another text before you could snap at him.

You slid the phone away from Alastor, face red. “Do you think, honestly, if you’re capable of it, that I’ll ever be able to go home?”

His hand came to your neck, running over your collarbone, “For the record, I’ve never once lied to you.” You rolled your eyes, fine, okay, “With your heavenly body, even as weakened as you have been here, I’d say just a few more weeks.”

You turned the phone face down.

“Good…that’s good. If you plan on winning me over, your countdown has started.” You pushed the soup away, appetite gone. The idea of never returning to heaven made you nauseous. He slid it back to you, face stern despite the smile he wore.

The walk home was quiet, your stomach full of unwanted soup.

No, not home. The hotel. 

He usually spoke a lot, clearly loving the sound of his own voice. His hand replaced the staff, settled on your back as he guided you. You could feel the warmth through your clothes. How could he be so hot and not be sweating? Another sinner thing?

The thought hadn’t left you by the time you came into view of the hotel gates. Maybe you had been replaced. How would you know? Maybe that was why your wings were gone. Surely there was some way to communicate from hell.

You found Lucifer as soon as you returned, unbothered by Alastor’s presence, “I need to speak to heaven.” 

Alastor was saying something but you had gotten quite good at tuning him out. Lucifer snapped back, the men quickly devolving into arguing again.

“Lucifer.” You said it with your chest. 

His apple topped cane whirled, a golden circle appearing with a crystal clear image of heaven’s glowing gates through its center.

A loud noise erupted behind you, a high pitched static wail, familiar tentacles flailed and a long shadow of a growing Alastor stretched across the wall. His back was bent into the lobby ceiling, perhaps three stories tall now.

The sounds of magic popping as Lucifer shapeshifted accented the sounds of horror with that of whimsy. You approached the portal, those black tendrils slithering around your ankles but you easily slipped out of them as their owner's energy was pulled to full demon Lucifer slamming into him.

Almost, you could see it. 

A monstrously large hand came down, shaking the hotel and knocking various objects off their perches in the lobby. Charlie and Vaggie, someone else you’d come to enjoy the company of, flew down the stairs.

The common area was filled with the sounds of yelling and breaking glass. You crawled over his hand as Alastor’s fingers curled around your body gingerly. He tried to pull you from the gateway but while he slowed, Lucifer now a flying horse kicking him in the face, your outstretched hand strained to enter the portal.

Your fingers grazed the doorway, the air around the lobby fizzing and warping as a desperate screech tore from Alastor’s wide and impossibly thin chest. The grip tightened around you. A static whine threatened to pop your eardrums.

As your fingertips pressed past the ring, they stopped. Something impenetrable and unseen between you and heaven. 

Alastor must have noticed it too, his grip loosening as you clamored on hand and knees to the portal. Your palm ran over the doorway, searching for a hole or seam to rip. Just under your skin was your home, bright and clean and painless. A tiny ‘no’ fell from your lips, smacking at the barrier with your open hand.

Alastor returned to his normal, still terrifying, height. Lucifer came forward, their fight losing motivation, his small hand on your shoulder as you sat on the hotel lobby floor. He closed the portal and apologized, “Sorry kid. Let’s try again when you finish that task, okay?”

Alastor’s arms went under your back and knees and lifted you off the ground. You didn’t resist or argue. Your eyes were unfocused, vision blurry with tears, as you were carried past the others. Vaggie looked ashamed, which was odd given she had more character than half the archangels could muster together between them.

There existed permissions for who could enter the heavenly realm, a list meticulously kept. They’d removed you from that roster. They’d locked the doors behind you.

You felt good. The final week of your first, and hopefully last, month in hell was marked with taking off your sling for the first time.

A good three day wallow in a metaphorical cave helped you emerge with renewed vigor. Of course they locked the gates behind you, otherwise you’d just go home. That made sense. That made sense.

That had to make sense. 

Deciding to take a risk and attempt to expedite your homecoming, you and Angel made plans. Like a teenager in a party movie you snuck out of the hotel when Alastor was asleep. Well, so you assumed. You weren’t really sure what he did behind closed doors.

Angel brought you somewhere he felt people would be receptive to discussing love and talking to angelic beings, and admittedly also very high. 

Sling off but still being as gentle as you could, you leaned across the small standing-only table to talk-shout with a rather cute aquatic demon. An eel? Or maybe some kind of water-fond lizard? It didn’t matter, his glasses were cute, both of you a little drunk,  and you quite good at saying the right things.

And all of the right things were said, and you felt maybe if nothing else you’d enjoy your first demonic lay, when the power shut off.

Everyone filed out, bummed and bothered to find most of the neighborhood shrouded in darkness.

Angel tapped your shoulder and pointed up the hill to the hotel, radio station a glow with a red light, “Ya know, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Nothing to do but to stare, you stayed quiet and angry while he flagged down a taxi knowing the trip would be fast without traffic lights, “Guess Daddy Dead Eyes is calling you back.” 

Anger grew and grew in your chest as you were charioted home.

Jesus, to the hotel. Stop doing that.

You burst into the radio station tower, Alastor barely reacting. Until, that is, you marched up to his desk.

Pinned before you could react, his body pressing into yours as your ass ran up onto the desk.

“Sneaking out like a child?” His voice was low, soft, unnatural. “Why do you intentionally torment me?” 

 “I have done,” you tried to move but only succeeded in rubbing your stomach against his crotch, “no such thing. You’re just possessed.”

He responded by pressing forward, no accident, as his eyes narrowed on you, “Correct. I am a man possessed.” When he rolled himself into you, an alcohol primed groan escaped your mouth. 

“I thought you didn’t care about those things,” your eyes flashed to his lap pushing into you and then back to his glare.

“You’re my exception that proves the rule. If you’re so desperate for attention there’s no need to leave the hotel to find it.” His smile was poisoned by the simmering anger in his eyes, “Dear.”

It was the alcohol and annoyance at losing a chance with glasses-man, Jake or Jark or something not worth a scrabble move, that made you sneer a reply, “Not yours. I am a divine creature, demon. Your body would just filthy me.” Nose up, feeling absolutely better than him in every sense, you pushed him off and left. 

That was easy. Wow. 

Proud of yourself, you made it to the elevator before you realized— illusions. Perhaps his illusion was the idea sex with you was worth the effort, more so than others. He said it himself before, he didn’t care for such things. Perhaps if you could show him it was as boring and unattractive as sex with anyone else could be, maybe you could shatter his mania with disappointment.

You pulled a u-turn and heel-toed right back into his station. Giving him no time to react this time, you climbed onto his chair and straddled him, “On second thought, try your worst. Let’s get it out of your system and move on.” You ground your hips down. He only smiled up at you, amused. Taking his hands you set them on your waist, giving him permission to handle you, “Claim me. Make everyone know I’m yours.” He didn’t move. You were starting to feel embarrassed, had he goaded you just to make you look stupid? He would.  But your kind invented the tension before sex between enemies, “If you can.”

That did it. His hair visibly stood on end, “It is not a matter of ability. It’s about-”

“If you can’t, that’s fine. No need to start lying to me now. But don’t say I never gave you the opportunity.” You smirked, hoping he enjoyed a taste of his own sardonic medicine, and lifted yourself off of him.

His hands came to life on your hips, helping you rise and then flipping you onto your stomach. Your arms pushed radio transmitters and various old timey fuckery away to make room for yourself.

Those talons slipped up the center of your bottoms and crooked into your underwear. Long and strong, his fingers felt you. “Is this a perk of a heavenly body or is this,” two fingers dipped into your already wet and relaxed entrance, “all for me?”

You fought the urge to respond with anything other than malice, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

In heaven no one needs preparation, no one needs lube or required stretching to keep things whole and fun. You would love to say that quality followed you down, but unfortunately, like perfect health and angelic wings, it had not. 

You decided to chalk it up to the alcohol. Always an easy excuse to offer yourself.

Alastor’s hands pulled away and up, finding the place just above the Rosie’s Emporium clothing tag and ripping the bottoms and underwear clean in half.

You bit into your hand to keep your excited shriek to yourself but unfortunately couldn’t stop your legs kicking up. His laugh echoed off the many windows. 

Why couldn’t he be worse at this? Why couldn’t Alastor be clumsy and meek and awkward at sex? No, the menace you’d gotten almost used to was confident and commanding, you felt yourself twitching in anticipation. People have a misconception that Cupid was a chaste and wholly emotional creature, which was false. First of all, Cupids varied based on the incarnation. Just like other heavenly creatures their personality was varied and unpredictable. 

Personally, you weren’t suited for the job. If you were honest. Why couldn’t your quiver just be full of Eros and Agape? Even of those two, sexual love was more your speed. Romance was fine and lovely but perhaps you’d gotten a little jaded. 

Luckily for you, fucking Cupid was something many winners had on their afterlife bucket lists and you rarely found yourself with an empty bed.

Your attention was stolen back, Alastor’s clawed hand grabbing at the flesh of your thighs, “Oops.”

Focus. Why were you doing this again? Your system was metabolizing the alcohol now, and with the air cooling off your exposed sex, everything was awash with lust. Did you want to diminish his mania or were you just horny?

Would it really be so bad to admit you were both?

Deep breath, you remembered. Boring. Banal. The plan was to be motionless and not provide him any satisfying sounds. Don’t touch him, don’t try to push back on him, no tricks or fancy shit. The sooner he was over this you could make someone trust in love and fuck off home. 

Seconds turned to a minute, your ass in the air as Alastor’s hands pawed at your skin. You wanted to ask what the hold up was, but you didn’t want to give away how much you were needing him to just fuck you already.

“Do you miss flying?”

You looked around, were you so drunk you missed an entire chunk of conversation while thinking about how to hide thirsting for his dick?

“Yes…?” True statement.

“Allow me to help with that.”

There was a moment you half expected to be chucked out the window, but almost worse than that, you heard him seat himself in the chair again before your body was picked up and off the desk. “Alastor! I don’t-,” Hands flailing, feet moving around the best they could, you struggled against the familiar tentacles he had command over. “I do not allow it!”

Your hands batted at them fruitlessly. One came under your knees and folded them to either side of your chest before wrapping around your waist twice, a second across your chest like a seatbelt snug and secure. Had you been on the floor you could almost be mistaken for taking a deeply devout praying stance. Only your arms were free to move, the position making you open and incapable of taking back any semblance of control. 

“Alastor!” Stretching, you could almost reach the edge of his work table, but your fingers and toes curled in as you were seated on something hot and stiff. Your lips quivered, desperate to keep silent as you were pulled down onto him. Reaching back your hands found his stomach, raking your nails across the skin in need of anything to grip. 

When you heard him chuckle to himself, you knew you were already losing. Plan backfiring entirely. You pulled your hands back to your center, taking ahold of the tentacle nestled between and across your chest. 

“Heavenly Father,” his voice was quiet but sure, your eyes so wide you worried you’d get stuck making a permanent face of utter shock and despair, “bless us and these thy gifts which we receive from thy bountiful goodness, through your name, our lord.” You were lifted off his lap, Alastor’s swollen tip dragging along your unstretched walls as he said the Lord's prayer, “Amen.” Pulled back down before the second syllable even reached your ears, you cut into your bottom lip as a scream bounced around behind your teeth.

Heathen.

“I would think you of all people knew how to finish a prayer.” Alastor chided, “What will heaven say?”

If heaven knew you were being impaled midair on an overlord’s cock, they’d create a second hell for you to rule. Population of none. Except maybe some horny nuns.

As he found a pace he seemed happy with, slow and long draws out of you, you realized how fucked you were. Looking down, you could see one of his hands was settled at the base of his cock, those long fingers draped down his balls. The other hand was unseen and unfelt. 

“Alastor.” You tried to sound stern.

“Oh I doubt heaven knows my name. Not yet at least.” He sounded unbothered, almost unaffected. “Not until I’ve spirited away their little angel of love.”

You were almost insulted at how easily he could speak despite being buried so far into your wet, hot cunt. Maybe you had been spoiled in heaven, people usually so turned on by the idea of you that they were coming undone as soon as you were wrapped around them or in them in whatever way you decided.  

A broken chant of “be bored, be bored,” in your mind as Alastor hummed, that mystery clawed hand falling at your back. Biting your lip, you tried to think about anything other than how full he was making you. Did the glasses man at the club have a cock as thick as Alastor’s? Would you have been as satisfied as you were now? Every down thrust made the tuft of fur at this base press against your ass. Soft. You wanted to grind against it, the idea pulling a wanton moan out.

Fuck. Failing to distract yourself because you got distracted. It was so hard to think about anything else than your body being pushed open again and again. The blood on your lips was sweet, licking them clean before finding a new spot to bite down on. Quiet.

“Ah, are you giving me the silent treatment?”

Could this son of a bitch read minds? Could sinners read minds?!

 If you didn’t reply, that was confirmation. But if you did reply, you were breaking your goal of not talking.

“Just…,” you took a deep sigh, knowing this was going to be rough, “I’m not really feeling like making any noise.” A shrug, the best you could manage at least while bound and held aloft in the space above his lap. Pretending this was normal and boring was a feat. “I’m not a vocal person during sex. I prefer to just lie there and get serviced. Don’t mind me.”

That sounded awful. Perfect. 

“Oh? Well then, I guess I’ll not worry myself.” You could hear the smile in his voice. Less perfect. He began to hum a little tune as your body, partially upright, was now being tilted forward at a 45 degree angle from his lap. His cock was bending in you, head pressing harshly up into your walls. 

Heart beating so fast you felt a dizzy spell hit you, that renewed anticipation almost as arousing as the sensations.

His humming continued like he was reading the paper. You’d never ridden a roller coaster, but you’d seen many people do it before and this was surely the same feeling; right at the peak before the drop. When the ride operator stills you and lets you stare down at the height before you. Your stomach was flipping, excitement tinged with fear. 

You were pulled off his dick until you felt the bell of his red tip get just outside your entrance. Was he going to pull out entirely?

No. He pulled you down by way of shadows and fucked you just a couple inches into your cunt. His head was dragging out past your tight hole and smashing back in, directly hitting your g-spot. The spongy bundle of nerve endings was dented with every thrust.

You weren’t used to having your entrance stimulated so much, the skin luckily becoming slick as your own wetness was fucked out of you. 

“That feels weird, please.” How quickly you gave up. “Stop pulling out like that.”

A considerate sigh, “But you’ve gotten so wet, my dear. You’re dripping down my thighs already. I don’t think you want me to stop.”

Could you cum like this? You felt like you could, maybe if you just…you quickened your breath, faster and faster. Your stomach heaving, you felt the crescendo of pleasure. 

“On second thought!” He stopped.

Your toes wiggled, hands gripping the tentacle on your chest. Quiet. Shh. Don’t argue. Boring. Don’t care. The building orgasm waned, you felt your blood pressure lower. This really was hell. 

Alastor’s head was just sitting in you, burning hot and throbbing. You were sure you could feel his heartbeat. 

You two were locked in a standoff. Someone had to let on they were enjoying themselves; Alastor releasing pent up frustration with your attitude toward his affections, you chasing down a rare penetration-only orgasm. 

An idea struck you, a way to hopefully antagonize him and bruise his pride enough to force him into your hand (pussy), “Thank God. I think it’s almost my bedtime.”

Alastor’s smile strained, a twitch coming over his left eye. A trap. But the idea of letting you down and off of him seemed far worse than the small defeat you were offering. “Allow me to rock you to sleep then, sweetheart.”

Success! Shit! 

You reached out, the angle of your punishment allowing you to grab the edge of the table and grip. Alastor’s annoyance translated to an inhuman pace, him pulling you off entirely from his cock before bringing you back down. He was positively slipping in and out of you, your lower lips puffy and soaked around him. This degree of wetness was something you couldn’t remember feeling outside of marathon sessions. 

When your hands tightened, a shock of pain tore down your arm, a scream bringing Alastor to a sudden stop. “My collar…” Pain was apparently not a kink you enjoyed, though you briefly wondered if heaven allowed it at all. 

You couldn’t even fuck properly. You couldn’t do anything right. All you managed to do was fail. A sting to your eyes as the air hit your welling tears. Did humans feel this pain often? Your body was righted and turned, you looked down to Alastor’s face as you were brought to him. He looked so soft, usual smirk a sweet toothless smile, “I told you to keep the sling on, didn’t I?” He looked happy.

Your arms found his shoulders and your head came to his chest, “Shut up and finish already.” He didn’t release you from the binding, instead pulling the right arm under the hold of his slender tendril to keep it safe and out of the way.  His hands were both at the base of his cock while you were gently riding him. Well, “you”. He was still using his powers to manipulate your body on and off of him. Alastor’s fingers were spreading your arousal down his shaft and along his tightening balls, if you had looked at his face you’d have seen a weakened man there, furrowed brows and lust drunk eyes. But you didn’t look, trying to hide the same expression on your own features. 

Left hand free, no need to hold yourself up, you made lazy, and you hoped subtle, circles around your clit. You weren’t sure if this was a total failure or not, but you could finish and say something good came of it. You, specifically. 

Things were quiet, though. The loudest sound in the room was the wet pop coming from where his body was meeting your sopping hole. His breathing was fast and soft, sighing when he bottomed out. Another bite to your lip, a few more deep hits to your cervix, and you enjoyed a small but satisfying release. The hand on you stayed through, riding out tiny waves of pleasure as you twitched around him. When you felt his release you sighed, you did it. You think. Maybe. Regardless. 

As he slowly lifted you, you considered if your legs could hold you—

Up you went and back down you fell as he took a new, quicker pace.

“A-Ah-lastor?! You,” you bit your tongue, “already finished?”

You had made a mistake earlier that you hadn’t even realized. But Alastor had been holding it between his sharp teeth, “How many times?”

Absolutely no idea what he was talking about, you gasped out a reply, “What!?”

“How many times should I fill you before you’re too filthy to return to heaven, do you think?” He couldn’t be serious. “Three? Five? You see, the advantage of using my tentacles is that I don't get tired.”

Oh, but he was serious. 

The battle was entirely forfeit somewhere around the third time he flooded you with his seed.

“These aren’t the usual screams I enjoy from my studio, but I’m not averse to them.”

 When he felt you’d learned whatever lesson you were supposed to be taking in by the pump full, you were finally removed from him. He covered your lower half with his coat around your waist. It would be lying to say you were surprised to find his wide shoulders and small waist wasn’t just an illusion of his well tailored, yet oddly torn, coat. He was annoyingly attractive. Who gave him the right?

Your legs gave out when you tried to stand, warm hands pulling under your armpits to get you back on your feet. As much as you wanted to push him away, you were still a little tipsy and your legs still getting used to full blood flow. His arm held out for you to use for stability, you took it and wobbled silently to the floor you both lived on. Before you left the elevator you looked down and saw a line of white dripping down your inner leg. Took longer than you expected, honestly. 

When you turned to the right to go to your door, his arm came around your waist and shepherded you to his room on the left. You shot him a look, asking what he thought he was doing. 

He laughed, “Oh, after tonight’s little escapade, you’re moving!” He opened his door and gestured for you to enter, “Welcome home, my dear.”

What was worse than a failure? A catastrophe? This was that. 

“Now come on, we need to get you cleaned up.” A hand patted softly at your ass before ushering you inside.

He did just that, wiping you down and undressing you before settling you into his bed. Exhausted and sore, you decided to argue after sleep.

When you awoke, you checked your shredded bottoms for your phone. Nothing. 

An answer was found when you mentioned it to Alastor, who asked what you were searching for so early in the morning, “Perhaps someone at that venue you enjoyed has it? Too bad you can’t go back and ask.” He was resting his back against the headboard, you realized he’d unbuttoned his shirt quite a bit. “Oh well!”

How was he always making you scream?

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∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove  @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re

@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp

#alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x you #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #smut

[loveyourownsmiilee]

I could never ever close on Buddie. These fuckers dead ass introduced Eddie through Buck’s pov, while he’s half naked, and “Whatta Man” is playing in his head. That’s how you fucking introduce a love interest. I’m not believing for one second that there were no plans for Buddie in the beginning bc point blank you don’t introduce a new character like that and not have them be a love interest. Especially when you zoom in on another character that can possibly be the love interest. And in the place of a previous love interest who’s no longer around. Anyone can talk all they want but some of the most romantic scenes on this show have included Buck and Eddie. That shooting scene? The entire thing was sooo romantically coded and they were the only two there. Eddie fucking reaching out to Buck as he’s slowly losing consciousness? Buck doing everything he can to keep Eddie with him? That’s some of the most romantic shit we’ve seen on this show. They have been paralleling the other main couples for yearssss. They’re co-parenting a child together. Eddie literally put Buck in his fucking will as his child’s legal guardian which is the equivalent of a fucking love confession, considering romance novels are also using that kind of thing as a love confession. This is one of the greatest slow burn love stories that we are witnessing in the history of television and it’s so beautiful to see. And now we have one half confirmed to be queer which means it’s closer than ever. Whether it was truly intentional or not, the actors themselves see the beautiful bond those two characters have and continue to breathe life into them in such an authentic and gentle way. They have been leaning into that role even without prior knowledge or guidance bc even they can see what a beautiful story they’re telling for Buck and Eddie. And it’s so wholesome to see two masculine men who explore and embrace their sexualities later on in life. And that they happened to find that love and connection with their best friend possibly. Yall cannot catch me closing on these two ever because no fucking partner can match the love and commitment they have to each other. They are going to go down in history as one of the greatest love stories on television. We’re all here witnessing history being made.

#buddie #I took some pain meds and my minds racinggggg #like yall cannot and will not ever catch me closing #this is happening #give me buddie or give me hell #jujus having thoughts

[scoutswritingcorner]

Headcanons

Father!Alastor & Child!GN!Reader

PURELY PLATONIC

TW:NONE!

A/N: I just have ideas for Papa Alastor and his little fawn gremlin child. To that Anon who came up with it! If you have any input don’t be afraid to reblog or shoot me an ask with your own (even if my askbox is closed just let me know it’s you).  I was listening to ‘No More Birthdays by Sophie May’.

Domestic fluff with Papa Alastor and his little fawn.

Second Part

So- I don’t know if sinners “age” or grow up in hell but let’s say for the sake of this little post that they do but it's really really slow or you're just a little child forever..WHO KNOWS.

Anyways…you’re like a carbon copy of Alastor only smaller and maybe brighter colors (Where as he has dark red hair you have maybe lighter red hair or a different light color) and little white spots in your hair or fur, maybe some freckles too. 

You are the only soul that is allowed to touch his cane without his permission or guidance, especially because he knows you like to wander off at times, not too far but when you both are walking down the street and he’s not feeling into physical contact he holds his cane out to you and that’s your cue to hold on. If he’s fine with physical contact? He’ll be holding your tiny hand into his, it’s something he got used to doing when he walked you to school those early mornings before he had to go to his radio station.

When he introduces you to Niffty and Husk? He’s not worried about Niffty, but he is glaring Husk down as you walk around the ex-overlord. You’re just curious. But once you get used to him you walk back over to your Papa and hold onto his cane, that’s his signal that you’re ready to go.

I’m a firm believer that sinners still feel the pain of whatever killed them in life when they get into hell as a reminder of why they are there. So speaking of that, Alastor gets hella bad migraines which he got used to easily but when he hears you coughing? He’s immediately by your side and holding a handkerchief to your mouth. He pulls you closer to him if it’s one of those bad coughs that make you wheeze really bad, he’s just a scared Papa and doesn’t know modern medicine well enough to get you the right treatment.

He dresses you in the fashion he’s used to, which is either a button down shirt with slacks or a dress. You’d wear a small little bowtie either around your neck or in your hair. 

Now when he arrives at the Hotel with you? You’re automatically being held because he knows you as his child and how curious you are but also he’s a paranoid deer dad. But after a while? He’s letting you down and gently patting your back to let you wander around, just please stay in his line of sight for now. He walks around the hotel with you so you can see all the sights as Charlie and Vaggie are with him explaining everything. 

Speaking of Charlie and Vaggie, they both terrified you and it almost sent Alastor into a frenzy. He doesn’t care if Vaggie points a spear at him but not at his little fawn. Charlie was just loud and that frightened you. 

Angel Dust wasn’t allowed around you for a while, but once he was, he was very sober and didn’t utter a word about anything your ears shouldn’t know lest he faces the wrath of your Papa. He also gets you treats and gives you head pats.

You do have your own room next to Alastor’s and he makes sure it looks like it did when you were alive, filled with your favorite toys and books lining the shelves. He got Rosie to make you a new teddy bear that resembled him once more and you absolutely adore that thing.

You and Niffty are gremlins together but she keeps her eye on you the whole time and makes sure you don’t get hurt or in trouble. She’s also very helpful when you start having a coughing fit but if it gets really bad? She gets Charlie or Husk to help. 

Alastor pulls Charlie aside one day whilst you are playing, “Charlie, you know I don’t believe in this silly little redemption thing as a whole but..if this does end up working, I want my little fawn to be up there. They don’t deserve to be down here with these disgusting and vile creatures. That’s all I care about.” He whispered glancing back at you as Charlie followed his gaze before smiling and nodding, “Of course, Alastor. How did..” She stopped herself as Alastor stood up tall. “They were sick ever since they were just a little baby..” He whispered out before clearing his throat and cleaning his monocle. He was done talking..reminiscing on his past mistakes.

When Mimzy comes around? He doesn’t let her near you, he knows what trouble she brings and he won’t stand for it if she dares harm a hair on your head. It’s not that he doesn’t trust her, it’s just he’d rather not feel the heartbreak he did all those years ago when he first lost you.

Some nights when you're fast asleep he holds you in his arms and sits on the floor. It grounds him when he feels you breathing, especially when memories of that night plague him and he can’t seem to catch a break. Even if he’s at his breaking point with physical affection, he will force himself to hold you just because those thoughts are plaguing him and he has to make sure you're breathing. His hands will rub circles on your back and he’ll let himself cry but it will be drowned out by soft jazz playing just in case someone walks by your bedroom door.

He also finds it soothing when he brushes and does your hair, even if you don’t have long hair he’ll brush it out for you in the mornings while he enjoys his coffee. He’s very careful around your tiny deer ears too. If you have trouble tying your bowtie or bow? Don’t worry, He is getting down on one knee and tying it for you while talking you through the steps.

100% you are his little sous chef/ taste tester. His love for spicy food is passed down to you and if it’s not spicy enough for you it’s definitely not spicy for him. While he himself doesn’t like to indulge in sweets, he’ll learn to make your favorite treat and surprise you with it. 

Omg when Lucifer comes to the hotel? Alastor gets protective because now the King of Hell is talking to you and not him but he’s not being mean about it…kinda. He’ll make an off joke about Alastor and you’ll stomp your hoof and puff your chest out and headbutting Lucifer. It’s even better if you have little nubs where your antlers (if you have them) are growing in. That’s what the King of Hell gets for bad talking your Papa in front of you! It doesn’t hurt Lucifer but he gets the gist (he doesn’t)

A/N: Once again if anyone has any headcannons of their own go wild. These are just I thought of!

Taglist: @littledolly2345, @aboyscriminalrecord (figured since you drew those masterpieces, I'd tag you in some more little headcanons)

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #gn reader #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x you #platonic #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor

[wordsbyrian]

Would you pls do a Mary earps imagine with them filming TikTok’s together and being otp x

A/n: Not exactly what you asked for but close enough i think.

TikTok is the bane of your very existence.

It’s the bane of your professional life as a chef because everytime you turn around one of your crew is using prep time to make a concoction and upload it to that godforsaken app.

And in your personal life?

Well, in your personal life, it feels like every time you blink you're being sucked into filming one of those stupid videos with your girlfriend.

The first time it happened, you were barely even sure what was going on.

The two of you had been getting ready to go on a date to a relatively nice restaurant, when she pulled up in front of her phone’s camera so she could show off what you were wearing.

That had been the beginning of the madness (as well as a very hard launch of your relationship to the public).

It didn’t really matter what you were doing, if Mary had decided that a video needed to be filmed, it’d be filmed.

A literal walk in the park. TikTok.

You driving. TikTok.

You tearing a member of the kitchen staff a new one. TikTok. (Although she’d been asked not so politely by the head chef to never do that again).

You cooking in your shared flat. TikTok.

Hell, she even made a TikTok of you sharpening your knives, a task you find completely mind numbing.

And if having your every move recorded wasn’t bad enough, she also had you joining her in filming one of the more popular trends. You mouthing along to the silly sounds that are currently popular on the app. Or worse, dancing, you hate the dancing.

Asking how often you think about the Roman Empire (only as often as you need to).

Throwing herself fully clothed into the shower  and singing Taylor Swift while you were trying to brush your teeth.

Making you record a two second clip of everytime you changed clothes while on vacation.

The list is neverending.

Which is why you should be more alarmed when you see her walking into the kitchen  with her phone out but you’re too focused on chopping the vegetables you’ll be using in your meal prep.

 “Baby,” she says.

“Hmm?”

“Can we record a TikTok?”

“Can I keep doing what I’m doing,” you ask in return, still not looking up from the cutting board.

“You don’t need to do anything but stand there and look pretty,” Mary says as she sets her phone up next to you. “And answer questions,” she adds as an afterthought.

You roll your eyes but don’t make any additional comments as you see her hit record.

“So a ton of you have been asking in the comments how my wife manages to be a professional chef when she has so many food allergies,” Mary says, looking directly at the camera. “And I figured it was better if I just let her explain it. Babe?”

Admittedly, you hadn’t really been listening to every word that she had been saying, only really listening to every word that she had been saying, only really catching the words ‘allergies’ and ‘professional chef’, which is a topic you get asked about a lot. So you just answer without really thinking.

“My main allergies are seafood, peanuts and treenuts. And since I’m one of 2 or 3 sous on any given night, I just,” you pause, “wait, what did you just call me?”

You can feel cheeks heating up as your brain finally processes what just happened.

“What? Babe?”

Mary’s playing dumb on purpose. She knows it. You know it. And you both know that the other one knows.

“Not that, the other thing.”

“What my wife,” she asks.

A cheeky grin breaks out on Mary’s face as she watches even more color rush to your face.

For you, when she repeats it, you suddenly feel like you can barely breathe and you know that your next words come out a little choked (much to Mary’s amusement.)

“Yup, that.”

As calmly as you can manage, you put your knife down and take off your apron before walking out of the kitchen.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I have to find my wallet and keys,” you shoot back.

“Why?”

“I gotta go buy a ring before you change your mind!”

The sound of her laughter is the only thing you hear as you close the door behind you.

The video is up on that cursed app by the end of the week.

A photo of the ring on Mary’s finger goes up just a few hours before.

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #mary earps x reader #mary earps imagine #muwfc imagine #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #muwfc x reader

[crvptidgf]

Don’t Tell Your Brother

Rafe Cameron x Reader

➸ summary: you’re sick of keeping your relationship a secret, but rafe isn’t so sure about outing it yet

➸ warnings/notes: mentions of sex but nothing explicit, reader is fem

word count: 1.3k

————————

IF THERE WAS one thing Rafe was good at it was keeping secrets. Whether it be for his father, Barry - or even sometimes Wheezie. He was a master at it, which is probably why he found this arrangement so easy.

It wasn’t that he liked keeping you hidden. It was more that it was necessary. Your brother wouldn’t take too kindly to the kook prince “corrupting” his only sister. Plus, a part of him kind of loved sneaking around and having you all to himself (something he would never openly admit to).

Rafe listened to your heavy breathing as he brushed his fingertips across your shoulder blade. Before he met you he would’ve never been caught dead cuddling with anyone; but that was what he liked about you. You pushed his boundaries (within reason) and forced him to see new perspectives. To become better.

Lifting your flushed face to meet his, you decided to break the silence. “Rafe?”

He shifted his gaze from the ceiling to your expectant eyes. He could never get enough of how you looked in bed with him, your hair wild and your eyes glazed over as your spent body curled into his. You were breathtaking.

“Hm?” he responded.

“Will it always be like this?”

Rafe took in your glistening skin and furrowed brows. If you hadn’t been asking him a question he probably would’ve occupied his mind with counting every mark and blemish on your face instead of listening.

“Like what?” he finally asked. He already knew where this was going. Sometimes he just liked to prolong the inevitable by acting clueless - because occasionally you would give up and switch the conversation to something more lighthearted.

“Rafe,” you groaned. “I mean all this pretending we’re doing. I hate acting like I hate you in front of John B.”

Your boyfriend sighed, dejection taking over his once calm features. When you first met him you never ever thought you could be the source of his peace, much less the one to turn him into a ball of domestic mush.

“Baby,” he started to say.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me. You’re not getting out of this one so fast,” you quickly interrupted, already knowing his tricks to try and distract you.

Rafe merely rolled his eyes as his hand lowered to squeeze your waist. “Okay, okay.”

Another sigh.

“What are you in such a rush for, anyway?” he asked, his ringed digits coming to rub at the buzzed hair on his scalp. “You were the one who wanted us to keep this from them.”

You rested your head in your palm now, elbow digging into Rafe’s impossibly soft mattress. He had offered to buy you one for your room after you complained about how much comfier his bed was - but ultimately you had to refuse. There would be too many lingering questions about how you could afford such a luxury.

Truthfully that was one of the hardest things Rafe had to grapple with. He couldn’t spoil you like he wanted to without causing alarm bells to sound in all of the pogue’s minds.

“I know. And you were the one who was against it. Why’re you so adamant on the secrecy now?”

A small glint sparkled in his eye.

“You don’t think it’s hot?”

It was your turn to sigh and roll your eyes. This man always found a way to make things dirty, even when the situation was far from it. “Are you really this horny after all that?” you asked, referring to the several exhaustive minutes you guys just spent in too many positions to count.

“What?” he queried, feigning innocence. “You don’t think all the fake hate act is hot? I like seeing you get all riled up knowing that I’m still the only one who gets to take you home that night.”

Goddamnit he was good at distracting you.

“Rafe,” you all but whined as you dropped your head into the crook of his neck, “I’m serious.”

Hands caressed the back of your head, petting your unruly hair down. “So am I.”

Your hand rested on his naked chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. There was something so relaxing and homely about this. Both of you entangled in each other under Rafe’s sheets, your hands roaming over every body part you could reach, your breaths harmonizing into one. If only this was a common occurrence - not just in the confines of his bedroom at 1 in the morning.

“You’re thinking again,” stated the man bluntly. “Don’t.”

“I should get back soon.”

Sitting up you began to look around the room, attempting to find any of your discarded items and clothes. If you left now you could still get some sleep before everybody back at home woke up.

“C’mon don’t be like that,” Rafe said as he grabbed your wrist.

You shook your head in disbelief. “Be like what? If you want this charade to keep going I have to get home.”

“Just tell them you were with-“

“With who, Rafe? Who can I force to lie for me this time?”

You knew it was unfair to get mad at him, but you just wanted to be able to stay at your boyfriend’s house without stress for once. This was getting tiring and you didn’t understand how Rafe couldn’t see it.

Pulling your underwear up your legs you moved to stand up. “I know it was my idea in the first place - but I didn’t think we’d keep it going for so long.”

Your boyfriend only watched as you paced around, grabbing your bra and t-shirt off the floor. “And anyway it’s none of anyone’s business who I date. I don’t know why I cared to start with,” you mumbled.

He knew you were frustrated. Sometimes he felt that way too, but seeing how many things you and your brother had to worry about back at the Chateau, he didn’t wanna add to it by exposing your ongoing relationship so soon.

“Hey listen,” he said, trying to gain your attention.

When you didn’t so much as spare a glance at him, he rubbed his eyes in annoyance. So stubborn.

“Babe, listen. C’mere.”

Still nothing.

Standing up from the bed, he grabbed you by the waist and threw you over his shoulder. It was a shockingly common occurrence. You would ignore him during an argument or disagreement and he would get sick of it and carry you to bed where he’d force you to talk it out. He insisted that he hated when you ‘sulked’.

“Rafe! Put me down!”

You landed on the bed with a bounce, your shirt half on your body and your bra still clutched in your hand. Rafe grabbed it and threw it off the bed.

His hands were at either side of your head. In any other situation you’d have started jumping his bones. These thoughts left your mind as Rafe’s next words left his mouth.

“We can tell them - if you promise to let me help you with the rent this month.”

Of course he would have some sort of stupid bargain for this agreement.

“No I can’t ask you to-“

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

He could tell you were thinking about it, weighing your options. If he could pay for this, maybe John B wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass when the eventual news came out. Perhaps he’d see how serious Rafe was about you.

Well, also, he just liked to spoil you.

You groaned. “Fine.”

With a kiss on the lips, the deal was sealed. “But only for that month, right?” you asked in between the final kiss.

Rafe nodded, letting you believe you were in control of this. What he didn’t clue you in on, however, is that he fully planned for you to move in with him after your next due date was paid. He figured he could let the surprise wait.

“Yes. But for now lemme just have you to myself,” he muttered against your collarbone.

Maybe getting home could wait for now.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe fic #rafe obx #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx imagine #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron outer banks #outerbanks fanfiction #outer banks #rafe cameron obx #obx x reader

[sluttywonwoo]

joshua eating your pussy for the first time idk

“c-can i?”

“you want to?”

joshua’s eyes get even wider, something you didn’t think was possible.

“of course i want to!” he insists. “i just, i haven’t… you’ll have to show me what you like.”

he’s already on his knees, gazing up at you with hearts in his eyes, begging you to give yourself to him.

you want him. you want all of him. you only hesitate because you know he’s never done it before. he’s new to a lot of this and you’re afraid to push him too far too fast… even though he’s the one who’s pleading asking for it.

“are you sure you want to?” you ask, carding a hand through his hair.

joshua leans into your touch as he nods eagerly, pouting his pretty lips to try and sway you. “please, baby. please let me eat you out. i need to taste you…”

you lift your skirt for him, earning a quiet gasp in response.

“yes, thank you. thank you—”

he scrambles to take hold of the fabric himself, holding it even higher than you had so that he can see more of you.

“here, let me sit for you.”

you move to the couch and perch yourself at its edge for him, spreading your legs wide enough for him to slot himself in between them.

joshua’s quick to push your skirt back out of the way and even quicker to slip his fingers beneath the elastic band of your panties.

“wait, keep them on.”

“why?”

“we’re starting slow,” you explain. “you can taste me over them first.”

“but-”

“do you want to give me head or not?”

“i do! i do, baby you know i do.”

“then be patient. it’s your first time, we’re going to take things slow.”

joshua mumbles something you don’t catch under his breath but pushes your thighs apart even further, leaning closer and closer until his nose is almost touching your pelvis.

“do what feels natural to you,” you tell him. “and i’ll guide you to what feels good to me.”

he nods, his hair tickling the insides of your thighs, then closes the space between him and your pussy. he kisses it so softly that you almost don't feel the gentle brush of his lips through the fabric before he buries his face in you, breathing you in.

he's all over the place at first, wanting to taste every inch of you. it's uncoordinated and sloppy but sensual and pleasurable all the same.

the press of his tongue is firm as he tries to taste your arousal through your underwear. you apply a bit of pressure to the back of his head, encouraging him to keep going.

"like this?" he asks, muffled.

"yeah, shua, just like that," you pant.

you didn't expect him to make you cum like this, but you're starting to think he might when he finds your clit. he knows he's found it from the way your breathing changes and the grip on his hair tightens so he doesn't let up, testing different patterns until he settles on one that has you slurring all your words.

"oh, fuck..."

"you taste so good, baby," he murmurs. his voice edges between demure and desperate, like he's trying to come off as cool but just can't control himself. "can't wait to have the real thing... if i make you cum like this can i have the real thing? please?"

your eyes are closed so you don't know whether or not he's looking up at you but you nod anyway. "mhm... make me cum and you can have anything you want."

#answered #anon #seventeen smut #svt smut #joshua smut #joshua hong smut

[foldingfittedsheets]

A friend I had briefly in my teens years was this girl in Arizona. She was a junior when I was a freshman, and as I was socially awkward and very lonely she kind’ve pulled me under her wing for a while. I don’t remember how we met, but I remember riding in her car and meeting her cute miniature Doberman.

But the thing I remember most about this girl was that she loved lying to me. And I had a massive but I acknowledged crush on her so I adored being lied to. Her natural charisma and storytelling was hypnotic.

It’s not what it sounds like because it wasn’t malicious but she came up with this in depth lore to tell me about this fake job she had. I know autistic people are meant to be credulous but I truly never believed her stories, I just adored her storytelling and was very ready to listen to whatever tale she spun that day. Another of her friends chided her once for teasing me but I genuinely never minded.

In her lore she moonlighted as a Professional Liar. People would hire her to get close to a target they wanted rattled. She’d make friends, develop a strong relationship, foster a dependency on her, then disappear. Then when they were confused and missing her sometime when the employer needed their target rattled she’d show back up as a glimpse to knock them off balance. Often it was implied she’d faked her death in the interim.

That itself was fine, it was an okay story. But in order to support that lie she’d make up tons of supporting details that were way more fun. She had this fake boyfriend who got high as balls on a mission and ended up seeing a sheep in a field and carrying it to a farmhouse to try to buy it because he wanted a puppy. I liked that one but suspected she didn’t know how big sheep were.

She’d IM chat with me as this made up boyfriend sometimes; once she had him ask me if I noticed her limping and he told me she’d just lost a toe but was covering for it like a champ. That one was fun.

She told me about something she called “purple charge” which was a way to get instant night vision. I did try looking that one up on the off chance, but was sadly disappointed there.

She said that Professional Liars had such high stakes jobs that they needed a week of insane time where they just partied so hard it was like a Dionysus rave and her IM boyfriend persona implied she’d killed someone during one of those stints.

I had such a fun time with her elaborate fiction that I’d often ask follow up questions and she had to do a lot of world building to keep up with my fascination. We’d get to class and I’d have three or four new questions which I think is why her friend thought her teasing was too far. They genuinely thought I believed her but I was just loving the fiction.

If any of this sounds malicious I’ll also add that when I got harassed on a roleplaying board she went out guns blazing to go after the guy who’d been harassing me. She genuinely enjoyed my company.

I find myself looking back on our friendship very fondly. I can’t remember her last name or have any way of looking her up, but she really was a professional liar to me. The only downside is that I’m completely faceblind so if she ever wanted to pop unexpectedly into my life I’d have no idea it was her.

#ramblies #ffs foibles #funny #story #stories are just well told lies #at least in her case but I had a blast

[kissitbttr]

frat!miggy headcannons !!

frat!miguel masterlist

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sfw !!

frat!miguel is the type to giggle and kick his feet up in the air when you tell him simple things like ‘i am so proud of you, baby’ or ‘look at how handsome you are, my big boy!’

frat!miguel gets jealous of small things. your fictional crushes. your girlfriends. your pet. your back spotter in the cheerleading team. gloria.

frat!miguel is also protective. very. to an extent where even you’re only standing five feet away from him at a party, his eyes will be locked in on you. arms crossed, nodding along to whatever his friend is saying in front of him. smiling like a lovesick puppy when he sees you laugh.

frat!miguel who would in seconds, kneel to tie your shoes when they see them undone. you don’t even have to ask.

frat!miguel plugs into his laptop, spending hours on his free time to look up cheerleading sports when both of you started dating. learning about the rules, routines, physical training, winning teams, tumblings, pyramids, etc. why, you ask? no idea.

frat!miguel is your own personal scary dog privilege. there is nothing about this man a golden retriever. especially at the gym. since you love wearing tight shorts and sports bra on leg days, he would stand a few feet apart behind. glaring to those who stares at his girlfriend’s juicy butt.

frat!miguel brings you flowers every weekend and send ones for your mother too. every once a week he goes out to play ball with your dad too. the man is surprised at how well your dad could throw.

frat!miguel who keeps stashes of condoms in his ‘special’ drawer since you stay over almost every day at the frat house. he figures that it’s better to be prepared than nothing. when really, he’s just one horny motherfucker.

frat!miguel who is so damn clingy that you have no clue on how to deal with it anymore. you could send this man a text of ‘bye, talk to you later, baby’ because you’re leaving for practice and he would spam you with

my miggy<3 : what? no!

my miggy<3 : wdym bye?!

my miggy<3 : princesa please don’t leave me!!!

my miggy<3 : i’d die💔💔💔

my miggy<3 : omg pleasepleaseplease come back

my miggy<3 : so you’re just going to let me die:(

frat!miguel who spends almost his entire junior and senior being fawned and gushed by other girls that he didn’t even think for a second to actually try. but for you? ask him to get you the moon, and he gives you saturn

frat!miguel asks you one day if he could be your boyfriend. not the other way around. not ‘can you be my girlfriend?’ because he’s threading lightly and he needs your permission

—

nsfw !!

frat!miguel is a large, large, man. he’s jacked bro. 6’9 and built like a damn linebacker. he’s big down there too, so it did take some time for you to get used to his size

frat!miguel loves fucking you. to no end. his stamina could go on for hours and he’s lucky enough to have you as his perfect match. ‘always fuck like damn rabbits’ is a review from glen

frat!miguel doesn’t care about whereabouts. if he’s horny and needed you, then you better get to it! (but of course, only if you’re comfortable)

frat!miguel prefers taking you from behind, he loooves seeing your ass bounce against him. it makes him lose his mind. guaranteed that it would be hard enough for him to last

frat!miguel is a sucker for eating your pussy. day and night, this man could have it for his five course meal. he loves it when you’re sitting on a chair, legs spread and tucked upwards while he’s just on his knees lapping at your cunt

frat!miguel loves having control but even more when you’re in charge. bouncing on his dick, not allowing him to touch you while rather just let him watch your tight pussy swallowing his cock.

frat!miguel gets off to your moans. they’re like music to his ears. how could one be so angelic and pornographic at the same time, shits crazy.

frat!miguel who has a breeding kink. he would go on about how he’s willing to knock you up during fucking, whispering in your ear that he’s going to put a baby in you.

frat!miguel is obsessed with your mouth. the head you give is top notch. you could do so much shit with your tongue around his cock than half of the girls he had before with their hands.

frat!miguel who’s lock-screen wallpaper is a selfie of you in the shower. hair wet, one arm covering your tits, puckered lips and doe eyes at the camera. head tilting to the side. it’s one you sent when he had texted you ‘what’s my girl doing today?’ during football practice. you look so damn cute and sexy, he just had to do it.

#frat!miguel #miguel o’hara blurbs #miguel o’hara x reader

[princessbrunette]

thinking about calling pogue!rafe over because your hot water isn’t working and he’s acting all annoyed but he’s lowkey kicking his feet at the fact that he gets to be in your home. maybe even asking him to stay after your shower so you can cook him something as a reward and play house for a bit 🩷🩷🩷

ೀ 🐰 ‧ ˚ 🪽 ⊹˚. ♡

my favourite thing about pogue!rafe is that he acts soooo inconvenienced by your presence. he hates kooks, think they’re so stuck up — so he can’t help but feel to push you away. always referring to you as a ‘stuck up little girl’ whilst he’s only a couple of years older than you. he’d done some work on the house before, and whilst your parents are away you literally don’t know who to call to fix your hot water problem so you try him, pacing around your room.

at first during your call, he tells you he’s got a shit tonne of work to be doing on other houses and doesn’t have time to drop everything for a kook princess. he can practically see your little pout through the phone, but keeps up his attitude until you thank him for his time anyway, sadly throwing out a little “no, i understand it’s okay. i’ll probably just hit up that jj maybank. i heard he’s pretty handy.” and suddenly he’s changed his tune, physically sitting up from his slouched position to be all “shit, okay fine… fine. i’ll be there in twenty minutes just — just don’t call anyone else a’ight?”

he’s sulking when he turns up with his tool box and that muscle tank and shorts with paint and dirt on them — unable to stop sucking on your bottom lip because he’s just so big and strong. he’s ignoring your lustful gaze with everything in him as he walks through to your bathroom. “lets just get this out the way, yeah?” he drawls as he gets to work.

you sit on the sink and swing your legs, not leaving him alone as he works simply chatting his ear off, seemingly unphased by his blunt replies, finding creative ways to shut you down like reminding you “yeah, uh you’re my little sisters age.” however you seemed totally unscathed, only working harder to prove you’re grown enough to take him.

“should be workin’ fine now so uh… just wire me the money n’we’ll be good. doin’ overtime right now so i kinda just wanna go home.” he waves you off and you step infront of him.

“you’re finished working?”

“di’nt i just say that kid?” he drawls and you grin, dragging him to your lounge.

“perfect! look i really wanna thank you specially for bein’ so helpful to me even though it’s clear you don’t want to. let me cook you dinner. please? i got beer and uh… i’ll make it really good. oh please rafe, my parents are away and i’m all alone.”

he sighs like it tortures his whole being, but he couldn’t deny that your house was super nice — nicer to hang out in than his shitty little fishing shack that he calls a home. he’d heard the cops had been sniffing around for him wanting to talk about a little ‘altercation’ he recently wound up in and didn’t have the energy to deal with that. no one would suspect him in the kook princess headquarters.

he cracks open a beer and lounges on your couch watching tv as you prepare the food for him before sticking everything in the oven and heading upstairs to shower. he doesn’t notice your presence disappear until you’ve returned in the tiniest little night gown and damp hair, leading him to the dining room where you serve up his food.

“some real housewife shit, huh?” he can’t hold back his smile as you seat him infront of a hearty meal. you feel all warm at the implication, shrugging modestly.

it’s inevitable that you wind up in his lap after he’s eaten, having sat with him and flirted — leaning over the table with your tits practically spilling out. you can’t quite recall how you got there, in between telling him you had nothing on under the nightgown and him telling you that it wasn’t his fault that men had primal instincts or some shit like that — but soon he was pulling your dress up to your waist and stuffing himself inside you, roughly fucking up into you.

“oww, rafey!” you whine at how rough he’s being with you, not used to being treated like anything but a princess. he can tell it’s an act though, and you truly do love it from the way your walls contract around him.

“nah, nah you knew what you were doin’ inviting me here. what were — were you just sittin’ around with a fuckin’ wet pussy waitin’ on your moment to invite me round n’let you fuck on me? huh? that was this is?” he bucks his hips, holding onto you to completely take control from below, bashing you against the table with each thrust that was certain to leave bruises.

you whimper, pressing your body to his trying to win over some affection as you sniffle. “just got such a crush on you, rafe.” you mewl and he scoffs, taking that moment to pick you up in his lap and place you on the dining room table instead, gaining more control so he could keep rutting into you.

“sick’a you little kook girls tryn’a — tryn’a use me like im some little experiment that you can toss to the side afterwards.” he complains, gripping your hips and practically using you like a toy. if he wasn’t holding you up, you’d be completely limp.

“dont want you with other girls! not — not gonna get rid of you i just want you.” you defend, and finally he slows his punishing pace to catch his breath, staring down at you analytically with parted lips, dick twitching inside you at the confession.

“that right?” he deadpans and you nod, teary eyed. “that why you let me in this princess cunt raw? huh? no protection or nothin’? just… just hoping i pull out? ha…” he chuckles maliciously, starting to push in deeper once more, upping his pace just a tad. “yeah… yeah maybe i should nut right in here—” he caresses your lower tummy making you whimper, completely at his mercy with your legs split. “knock up some kook pussy. won’t just be a phase then will i? nah baby… nah you’d be stuck with me for life.”

he’s got a sick smile on his face, but what he’s not expecting is for you to grip the back of his neck, your bottom lip wobbling with a serious look in your eyes. “do it.” you command and his face drops a little, realising that maybe he was dealing with a girl that had it bad for him. that, or you’re trying to get some sort of revenge on your parents. either option made his dick throb.

ೀ 🐰 ‧ ˚ 🪽 ⊹˚. ♡

#anon #rafe cameron prompt #pogue!rafe

[hurthermore]

»»------► 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝙰𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝 (18+)

A/N: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚊𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝙰𝚄 𝚘𝚏 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 '𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝' 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 (𝙷𝚊𝚣𝚋𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚕)

𝟷𝟾+ 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕, 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕, 𝚜𝚘 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Extremely caring, Alastor will kiss every part of your body whilst trying to stay inside you as long as possible whilst he holds you like you mean the world to him; usually gets hard again if so. If it was a rougher session, he will run a bath for you and help you relax whilst he massages soap into your skin whilst whispering about how well you took him.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

This man is a cannibal; so obviously he's a thigh and chest guy. Alastor loves the thickness of your thighs and wants to bite into them to see how they taste. He likes your chest purely because your heart remains there, and he loves to feel the rapid beating that thumps from your ribcage as he fucks you. I’m regards to his own body, he likes his face the most; he’s a cocky bastard and he knows he’s attractive, what can I say?

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Alastor will never cum before you; purely because he can only derive his own pleasure from the pleasure you feel. His cum is almost acidic in taste. After he enters hell, it becomes yellow instead of white simply cause I said so.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wants to fuck you in the remains of everyone who dares to take you away from him; but it's not something Alastor would enact. Not unless you wanted him to.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Literal virgin. Never touched another person or himself romantically or sexually before you, so Alastor wouldn't be the best at first; but his charming and dominate demeanour makes up for it. Would become a god at sex after a while, and would memorise exactly what makes you tick.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position where he can look at every expression that envelops your face; Alastor gets off on seeing how much he's pleasing you, so although he will hit it from the back if you asked, he wouldn't enjoy it as much.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Alastor can't help but make a bad dad pun if the time arises for it; but typically he likes to keep it serious and passionate.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

No one is going to convince me Alastor shaves down there; and once he dies, it definitely changes into tufts of fluff instead of pubes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's a natural gentleman, so Alastor would be extremely romantic; groaning how well you're taking him, treating you like the most precious thing alive and dead as he defiles your body.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Alastor wouldn't touch himself with a twelve foot pole like that, and doesn't like you jacking him off either; it doesn't feel good for him, he'd much rather pound his fingers into you as seeing you on the brink of an orgasm makes his cock twitch to the point of wanting its own release.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Despite his want to please you, Alastor does have some rather fucked up things he'd like to do to you and for you to do to him. Definitely has a blood kink, choking kink, and pain kink, a sadomaso at heart.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In the privacy of a room, Alastor wants to keep your body and moans all to himself, but if you need reminding that you belong to him whilst you're in public, expect to have his hands touching you rather inappropriately.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly? If you're blinded by rage, covered in blood, or start acting a bit crazy, he gets hard immediately. Other than that, he can't really get hard unless you make it clear you want him like that; you'd have to initiate every time or drop heavy hints for him to initiate, but Alastor is more than happy to make love to you whenever you ask - even if he's busy.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Would not partake in a three-way or more. You're all Alastor needs, all he wants, isn't he good enough for you? You'll break his heart asking this. Expect to be locked in his cellar if you have the stupidity to ask.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Alastor will only enjoy you giving him head if you get off on it, if not, he can't enjoy it. In contrast, he loves going down on you; loves tasting the natural essences of your body. He's surprisingly good at eating you out even from the first time he does it. With his acquired taste for human flesh, he will always suggest you sit on his face whenever it's that time of the month.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

In a normal initiation of sex, Alastor is extremely passionate and slow, he makes love to you whilst going so deep you can see stars, if you ask him to go harder or faster though, he will. In the case of high emotions, maybe the two of you had a lovers spat, or he's just killed someone from pure jealousy, expect to be fucked into oblivion; his pace will be relentless and you're always unable to walk straight the following day.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Prefers to savour you, take his time with you, and the only way you're going to get a quickie out of Alastor is if you start grinding against him before he, you, or both of you have to go somewhere. He also likes the thought of having his cum still inside you whilst you both go about your daily lives, and quickies defiantly help him live the reality of that fantasy.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes and no? Alastor, being the murderer he is, knows the limits of the human body when it comes to anything that has the potential to kill, so he will never pass that limit with you; like choking you, for example. Because he knows these limits, its not necessarily a risk for him. In terms of potential voyeurism, he does like the thought of getting caught fucking his cock into you so whoever walked in on the two of you knows you belong to him - especially so if it happens to your first husband who walks in.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

At first, Alastor cannot last that long, so at the start of your intimacy, he spends a lot of his time with his face between your thighs, trying to bring as many orgasms as he can from you. After a while, his stamina will build, being able to last for a few hours and a few rounds. Will even fuck you if it hurts him, he just wants to please you that much; luckily for him, he's a masochist, and besides, you're too nice to let him be in pain... aren't you?

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Despite sex toys being relevant to the time of both of your lives, Alastor never saw the point in sex toys, doesn't understand the need for them. He can only get off to you, and he is very capable of bringing you to orgasm, whether it be through his mouth, fingers, or cock. Will be a bit offended if you ask him to use one, maybe if you beg, he might be open to using some on you though.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Will tease you in the sense of asking you what you want from him. He'll ask you where you want him to touch you, how bad you want him, will even make you beg for him if you've been bad. Also, Alastor loves to tell you how good and perfect you are whilst his cock is thrusting in and out of you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Let's out a lot of low groans and grunts like a wild animal if he's fucking you hard, if he's slow and sensual, Alastor will breathe heavily to the point it's all you can hear, even if you yourself are moaning.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has a husband/wife kink. Basically, he wants to be your husband; wants you to be his wife, and wants you to call him your husband whilst he fucks you. He craves for you to forget about your first marriage to the point where you believe Alastor is the only husband you've ever had. Also kinda likes to smell your sex...?

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Alastors cock is very girthy, heavy and veiny, with a curve that hits you just right; he's got a very pretty cock, and in my mind, he's your desired size, but if I had to give him an approx length, i'd say he's sporting a good seven inches whilst he's alive. When he's dead however, and sporting his demon form, not only has he grown a full foot taller, but his cock has an ombre of red and has somehow gotten fatter, now with a couple more inches to it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Honestly, Alastor can live his entire existence without having sex; it's not something he's too bothered about, as long as you’re by his side he’s content, but his desire to please you and become one with you is something that has him drooling, so he's willing to do it whenever you wish.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After some well done aftercare, Alastor will only fall asleep once you have drifted off, he doesn't like thinking of you being awake without him. When he dies, he doesn't sleep, so once you drift off, he will just watch you sleep instead.

I didn’t even need to see the outcome of the poll; y’all just bashed tf outta that yes button soakskos so here he is; are there any hints here for the story? Idk probably not ;)

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert #hazbin hotel #x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #wrote this whilst getting ready for uni #smut #alastor x y/n

[wri0thesley]

let me see - arlecchino x fem!reader (3.8k)

you work as a tutor at the house of the hearth; but the father of the children you teach seems to haunt your thoughts.

cw: not sfw, fem reader. employer-employed dynamics, reader calls arlecchino 'sir', chubby reader, reader is inexperienced. arlecchino calls reader 'good girl' and 'darling'. guided masturbation.

You see your employer only rarely, but that does not mean that you do not think about her often. 

It’s in the way that the children - your students, the ones you have been engaged to teach basic arithmetic and reading and as much history as you can squeeze in - speak of their ‘Father’. The look of wonder and devotion and just a touch of intimidation that comes over them, even as they chatter to you about the next time she is coming home and what they plan to do to welcome her. It’s in your salaries; perfectly paid, on time, with extra money left in an envelope and a note in beautiful, sharp handwriting mentioning your students by name and how well they’re progressing.

And, of course, it is in the times you see her - for you do not think anybody could see Arlecchino and not think about her regularly for the rest of their life. 

She makes you nervous. There is something about her commanding presence; her lovely marble face, the strangely striking appearance of her eyes, the self-assured way that she stands. You think her beautiful, of course - but you have always had trouble around beautiful people, and so you find yourself stumbling over your words, your cheeks burning hot, coming far too close to making a fool out of yourself whilst she keeps a small, polite smile on her face as she watches you falter. 

You worry, sometimes, she knows that you find her at once intimidating and irresistible - that something about the way you hold yourself will give away that you have wondered what her nails would feel like, digging into the soft skin of your throat as she tipped your chin upwards - or that you have wondered what it would feel like to have her corner you like a trapped rabbit and have her way with you--

But they are just daydreams. The truth is that you are as green as they come; you had gone to Sumeru’s Akademiya, a child who could not stop devouring books, who was obsessed with learning - and you had returned back to your native Fontaine to teach, and had no time in between that to pursue romantic relationships. The sum total of your romantic experience is a hurried kiss with another student, another beautiful older woman, who had pulled back and laughed at you, touching your cheek gently. 

“Aren’t you adorable?” She’d asked you, in a low, sleepy voice with her eyes half-lidded. “Maybe a bit too adorable for just right now. Come find me again if you’re ever in Mondstadt.”

So . . . your fantasies about Arlecchino are just that. Simple fantasies. You have other things to attend to, after all! You care about the children whose education has been entrusted to you - even those who have now grown too old to need your guidance, who you watch flower and blossom and strike out from the House of the Hearth. Even if they stray beyond the nation you live in, though . . . they always seem to come back, to pay their respects to Father. 

But it doesn’t stop the fact that sometimes she looks at you, when your paths crossed, with her head tilted just slightly to one side, and you feel like she knows exactly what you’re thinking. She always makes you feel strangely exposed; you keep up with fashion, because you enjoy it, but something about the fripperies of your gowns and skirts and blouses and the ribbons and the carefully chosen accessories in front of Arlecchino make you feel as though she is stripping you down in her mind, so perfectly poised and tailored. So you drop books in front of her. Your sentences get tangled together. You go hot all over and look at the floor--

But still she employs you, and still you hurry home at night and try to ignore the pounding in your chest and the way your breath goes short at the sight of her. Your paths cross only occasionally, you tell yourself. Next time you will be prepared. 

But you are not prepared, the day that Arlecchino meets you in the hallway (your arms full of books and the work of the children that you intend to look over that night), running late with your hair ribbons askew and your dress crooked and she looks at you and says, in a voice that brokers no argument;

“Won’t you stay a little longer and have afternoon tea with me?” 

“Do I make you nervous?” The red crosses in her eyes bore into you as she pours you a steaming cup of tea into a delicate teacup. You sit primly, your hands folded in your lap, your feet together, feeling entirely too exposed alone in this room with her. “You shake like a leaf whenever I speak to you.” 

You wet your lips awkwardly, your throat dry, as you reach out for the teacup. You notice your hands are shaking and try to stop them, but she leans forward herself and places one of her hands over yours, steadying you. You stare up at her, eyes wide, whilst she looks down at you with something calculating and predatory in her gaze. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice very soft. You can feel your cheeks going hot against your will, and you wonder what you must look like to her - because you feel like a rabbit who is about to be pounced on by a wolf. Arlecchino slowly and purposely guides your hand back down, to put the teacup back on the saucer, and you begin to get the strangest impression that her invitation for ‘afternoon tea’ was actually an invitation for something entirely different. Her hand comes back up, and one of your idle questions is given an answer as you feel her sharp nails dig into the soft skin under your chin, tipping it up as she leans in closer. Close enough that she could kiss you, if she wanted - close enough you can smell the scent of Rainbow Roses and smoke that lingers on her clothes. 

“Oh,” says Arlecchino, and she smiles at you and something about the smile makes you go hot and cold all over all at once. “Don’t be. It’s terribly cute.”

You don’t know how you end up sprawled out over her lap, your thighs hooked over the arms of her chair, as she takes control of you - but before you know it, that is the position you have found yourself in. Her hands roam slowly all over you, savouring the feel of your skin - soft and warm, generously curved - beneath her long, elegant fingers. 

“These ribbons drove me to distraction today,” she murmurs against your ear, as you melt helplessly against her and she tugs at a brightly coloured red ribbon that trims your blouse. “I kept thinking about tying it around your pretty wrists instead.” 

“M-Miss Arlecchino--”

She clicks her tongue at you in admonishment, running her thumb over the seam of your lips. 

“Call me ‘Sir’, darling.” You practically fall over yourself to rectify your mistake, your tongue messy and heavy in your mouth, and you win a little chuckle from the woman who has you at her mercy. “You’re just so eager to please, aren’t you? What a good, obedient little thing.” 

“Please--” You whisper breathlessly, as she tugs at the ribbon completely and the throat of your blouse falls open. Her nails scratch a slow line over your neck, almost like a threat, and you shiver again helplessly under the touch. 

“Please what?” She murmurs against the shell of your ear. “You know, I did employ you as a tutor . . . for an academic, you’re rather inarticulate.” One button of your blouse, torturously slowly. The next, and she smiles against your bare skin to see the way your chest is rabbiting. “One would think you’d never been touched like this before.”

She knows.

There’s an edge to the way she says that, a note that’s teasing and suggestive, and it tears from your throat a little whimper of embarrassment that, in turn, makes her let out a sigh of satisfaction. 

“My, my,” Arlecchino says to you - two more buttons, and your blouse is barely fastened. You’re inordinately glad you wore pretty underwear today, though you suppose it must look rather fussy to Arlecchino. “Have you not, sweetheart?”

“Sir,” you whine out, feeling tears spring to your eyes at the humiliation of the whole thing. Despite the humiliation, though, heat spirals out from between your thighs - your matching fancy underwear, you know, is soaked through. “Please-- it’s embarrassing--”

The final button, and Arlecchino’s fingers are running over bare skin now. The pudge of your stomach, the curve of your chest through the ruched cups of your brassiere. 

“Say it,” she says to you, her voice sharp in the command. She circles a finger over your nipple through the lace and chiffon and you squirm in her lap at the sensation of the bud puckering and hardening. “If you want me to touch you, you understand, you have to at least have the confidence to tell me the truth. Or I’ll just send you home without your blouse and with your poor little aching cunt untouched, hmm?”

“Sir--!”

She grabs your cheeks between thumb and forefinger, squeezing the roundness of them roughly. The Father of the House of the Hearth, after all, is not one to be intimidated by whining or begging. She has plenty of experience dealing with brats. Her fingers still as she waits for you to do as she asks, and you squeeze your eyes shut and hiccup out a sob of longing. 

“I--I’ve never . . . had anyone else touch me . . . l-like this--”

She lets out a pleased purr in the back of her throat.

“There,” she soothes. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Good girl.” She drops a kiss on the side of your forehead like a reward, her hands sliding over your body to find the catch of your brassiere. There’s a brief tussle of movement as she ensures you are shed of both your blouse and your underwear, and then you’re once more on her lap, your entire top half bared, only your skirts and stockings and underwear still on. “And if I’m honest . . .” She moves back to your ear, pressing a kiss on your jawline beneath the earlobe. “I rather like getting my claws in someone before they can learn any bad habits. I, too, am an excellent teacher.”

She takes a firm hold of you, pulling you even closer to her so that her hands can each take a palmful of your breasts. You feel exposed before her; the rolls of your stomach, the way that your chest sags into her grip, but Arlecchino does not seem to care about these things - instead she just sighs like you’re a fine wine she’s sampling, palming and squeezing the heavy weight of them. 

“You’re such a pretty thing beneath the flounces,” she says to you, plucking idly at your nipples between thumb and forefinger - the movement sends hot lightning flashes of pleasure right down to the space between your legs. “If I were in charge, I think I’d leave you naked in my bed. Much more practical like that, don’t you agree?” 

“I--” 

“What about kisses?” She asks you, not letting you say anything. Your head is spinning pleasantly, and you cannot say that you are annoyed she’s stopping you from making a fool of yourself. “Are you as unversed in those, too?”

“I--I’ve kissed . . . someone--”

“Just one?” She laughs, a not unkind noise. “Oh, just the one kiss, I see. Poor thing, your cheeks are like Pyro slimes. Come here. Let me show you how to kiss someone properly, hmm?” 

Arlecchino pulls you into a kiss that is so unlike the one you once had that to call them both by the same name seems a great disservice. There is no other way to describe it; she claims you, her mouth like a conquering king, your own the battlefield. Her teeth tug at your lower lip and you are helpless to do anything but open your mouth, let her tongue sweep over yours. She tastes like fire and tea, some of the little cakes she had offered to you - and you whine helplessly, clutching at her slacks because there’s nothing else you can reach in the position she has you in. 

She lets go of your face with a satisfied sigh, and your head lolls back against her shoulder as she delicately wipes a smudge of her lipstick from the corner of your mouth. 

“Let’s get this off you,” she says, tugging at the frills of your skirt. “Let me see you, darling.” 

You’re only too eager to assist, embarrassed but needy, wanting but nervous. The fastenings at your waistband are unhooked, and then she is carelessly sliding it off of you until you are back before her in nothing but your underwear and your stockings, digging into the fullness of your thighs. For a moment, you are embarrassed again of your softness - but Arlecchino grabs your hips, pulling you back bodily onto her, and you realise from the possessiveness of her movements that she does not see it for a moment as something to be ashamed of. 

Arlecchino’s hands are hungry as she squeezes at the softness of your thighs, as her palms sear hot across your stomach, as her fingers drift towards the gusset of your underwear. Her touch is feather-light, there, but you keen even so - terribly aware of every movement, even the smallest brush of her fingers. Arlecchino clicks her tongue against your ear again. 

“So sensitive,” she whispers. “I’m afraid I might hurt you, and I’m afraid I’d very much like it. Why don’t you show me how you touch yourself?”

Your breath gets caught in your chest. Her suggestions so far have been, perhaps, embarrassing - have put you at a disadvantage due to your lack of experience. But nothing so far has been quite so brazen. You burn with the unease of it, but Arlecchino is already grabbing your hand, placing it over your soaked underwear. 

“Don’t worry about making a mess,” she murmurs into your ear. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that. My pants are soaking.”

She seems to enjoy watching you squirm as you whimper again, face hot. But her hand does not move, keeping your own anchored against your underwear until you do as she asks and shyly, nervously, rub at yourself through the sodden fabric just a little. 

“Oh, darling,” she breathes, condescension dripping off every syllable. “You’ll never get anywhere like that.” You are inarticulate with your touches, still trembling and shaking at the strangeness of all of this - and you have done this, of course, but never with an audience! Never spread out over someone’s lap as they critique your technique!

“Sir, please--”

“You’re supposed to be a teacher,” she admonishes you. “You’re supposed to know everything, are you not? Have I really got to help you with something so simple as touching yourself?” She’s enjoying it; the sight of you, normally so prim and shy, utterly undone by her every word and action. Her hand moves over yours, holding it, guiding you to press two of your fingers together and circle over your swollen clit through the underwear. 

It’s different, with her guiding you. You turn your head to try and bury it against her collar as she continues to mercilessly guide you into circles, sniffling pathetically - but she just coos, just nudges you back so you watch the visual of her hand over yours between your thighs. 

“Shall we get your underwear off too?” She phrases it as a question, but it’s not one - she is already peeling off the frilly cotton, inching it down your generous thighs. She laughs a little meanly when she sees just how large the damp, darker patch is, and you think you will cry. Every feeling you have ever had is magnified a thousand fold here, in this incredibly vulnerable position spread over the lap of your employer. 

(There are whispers that Arlecchino is even more than that; that there is a secret purpose behind the orphanage you have been employed by. But you do not put much stock in rumours, even when the children look at each other strangely and whisper when they think you cannot hear them. The thought of who you might really be letting touch you . . . You wish it did not stoke a fire in you even hotter and brighter than before). 

“There we are,” she murmurs. “Good girl. Look at you. Look how pretty you are.” She deals your sex a short, soft slap - her palm comes away sticky, the noise indecent in the little room she had brought you to for afternoon tea. “I wonder how much prettier you’ll look with three of your fingers stuffed inside of you?”

Another strangled noise from your throat at the easy way she says the filthy things, and Arlecchino merely makes a soft huff of laughter. 

“Carry on touching yourself for me,” she says to you. “Let me see.”

It’s an order, and you know that orders from Arlecchino are to be obeyed. Shyly and hesitantly again, you bring your fingers back to your sex. She rests her head against your shoulder, and moves her own hand; uses two of her fingers to make a ‘v’ shape and places them on your sex, using them to spread the plump outer lips aside so that you have better access to your clit and your entrance, still soaking and leaking slick out onto Arlecchino’s lap. 

You’re hot and awkward as you touch your clit; as you try and mimic the circles that she had drawn on you earlier - but you are not brave enough to keep at it, and before long you have returned to your own faithful back-and-forth motion on your clit, your hips moving in little thrusts to try and prolong the sensation. You can hear yourself in the charged air; the hot little pants, the whimpers of frustration that none of it feels as good as it did when she was in charge. Arlecchino, though, merely watches you struggle. 

You cannot see her face, but you can imagine the look upon it; the barest quirk of the lip, the single raised eyebrow. You carry on as best you can, trying to think of all the things you would usually think of - but it all spirals back to where you are, what is happening, and the fact no fantasy can truly compare. 

Her voice is a little thick when she speaks next, and you realise with a strange jolt of pleasure that your inarticulate touching is still having an effect on her. It’s almost unnoticeable - but Arlecchino’s normal tone is so very poised, even the smallest change feels like a blaring siren to you. 

“Put two of your fingers inside of you,” she says. And then, as you inexpertly slide two of your fingers inside your channel, she lets out a shuddering breath. You’re wet and tight around yourself, aware that you must look a mess - but Arlecchino’s fingers are sliding between your sex, moving to touch the space on your clit you just vacated, and your entire mind goes blank. “Don’t stop. Let me see you move them.”

You do your best, but Arlecchino’s own movements are just too much. The sensation of her dragging the pads of her fingers over your swollen clit; the way she circles and flourishes and swirls . . . you try, desperately, to keep your fingers in some kind of rhythm as they slide in and out of you, but before you know it you’re using your other hand to clutch at her arm and whimpering as you hump upwards into her touch. 

“I ought to stop you,” she tells you, but she doesn’t for a moment stop her ceaseless assault on your clit; the wet, sticky clicking noise of your slick between her fingers. “You’re being a brat.”

“Please, Sir,” you whisper, babbling, “I’m . . . it feels so good--”

“Flatterer,” she murmurs, in that low, hungry voice. “You’re lucky that you look so very pretty like this, and that I am perhaps more soft-hearted than I appear . . .” Tears are running down your cheeks, sniffling, whimpering, helplessly moving your hips in time with her touches. Nothing seems to exist but the feel of Arlecchino’s fingers on your clit and the firm, certain way she touches you. “Be a good girl and come for me.” 

The order tips you over the edge. The knot of heat in your belly comes undone and you whine helplessly as you buck into her touch, and you feel a gush of your own slick wet the fingers that are still stuffed inside of you. Your thighs try to clamp shut around the sensation, but the position that Arlecchino has you in with your thighs over the arms of her chair stop you from doing it - and so does she, still working her fingers over your clit through every trembling moment of your orgasm. 

You come back down, panting, aware of the wetness between your legs and your nakedness, the stiff points of your nipples and Arlecchino’s fingers on you and the fact that Arlecchino is still dressed exactly as she was when she caught you in the hallway. 

She moves her hand, and to your surprise she presses her fingers against your lips, forcing your mouth open. 

“Taste yourself,” she tells you, and you are still so in awe of her that you can do nothing but obey - the slightly tangy taste of you lingering on your lips. You’re even more surprised when she uses her other hand to pluck your hand from between your thighs and guides the two fingers that had been inside of you to her own mouth, her tongue hungrily drinking in the wet webs of your slick. “Well. Aren’t you sweet?”

The unprofessionalism of what you’ve just done begins to creep up on you, shame drenching your back. All of those talks about ethics that you’d had at the Akademiya - but Arlecchino takes your head and turns it and gives you another firm kiss, another bite to your lower lip, another conquering that makes you feel weak at the knees. Your own taste lingers in your mouth, but, too, it lingers on her lips, and she seems supremely satisfied as she pulls back. 

“I’ll be away on business for the next week,” she tells you. “In Snezhnaya. I’ll bring you something back.”

“Sir--”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she continues. “That little apartment you live in - well, it seems a shame, when we have so many empty rooms, and a live-in tutor would be far more beneficial - don’t you think? The children do adore you, and it seems so very practical.”

It’s a bizarre time to be having a business meeting, with your slick staining her clothes, with your own clothes a crumpled pile, with your position so terribly open and exposed - but all you can do is blink at her, and she smiles at you like a cat who has gotten the cream. She pats your cheek. 

“Besides,” she says. “It will give us far more time together. And I do have so much more I’d like to teach you.”

#writing #arlecchino x reader #fem reader #genshin impact posting #im GAY okay!!!!! leave me alone!!!! this is self-indulgent and i dont care!!!!! #not sfw text