#it's the practicality and emotional restraint

[peachesofteal]

Imagine being a 24/7 lifestyle sub with ghoap being the doms 🫣 with an eternity collar and everything

I’m foaming at the mouth like a rabid raccoon

🪦

18+ / pre- negotiated everything / ghoap x reader / consensual everything Good girl who waits at the door on her knees for her boys to get home.

Good girl who sits quiet and naked and doesn't move a muscle until it swings wide and they appear on the other side, mouths curling into predator's jaws, excited and gleaming with the glint of sadism that makes this entire thing work.

"Have you been good, darling?" Simon circles, inspecting. A firm hand between your shoulder blades presses you the cold, hardwood floor, thumbs spreading your folds wide from behind for inspection.

"Yes, sir." Your tongue tastes polish, the black sheen of a boot.

"Did ye miss us?" Johnny rubs the flat of his palm over the swell of your ass.

"Yes, sir." You breathe. Your body burns, pulses, in the dregs of desire, the ache between your legs long shifted from delicate to ravenous, sweetness to agony.

"Did ye touch?" He explores your body, stroking down your slit, swirling fingertips in the sticky mess that leaks from you. He clicks his tongue. "Ye didnae touch, did ye? Did ye leave this little pussy alone like promised?"

"Y-yes." you stammer, and then bite your tongue. You might have, once. Briefly.

When you fail to punctuate with the honorific, a hand cracks against your ass.

"Sir!" You grit, and Simon chuckles.

"Bet I could make you cum right now then." He thumbs your hole, lightly tapping against where you're desperate for him to push inside, and you bite down on your tongue to keep the pleads from spilling out. "Let's see how swollen you are." He moves you in a blink, your back now flat against the floor, and he positions your feet wide, allowing unfettered access for both of them.

"Poor thing." Johnny coos, spreading your folds with two fingers, knuckle brushing your clit. The contact jolts, sends electric shock up your spine, and your muscles tense, nearly shaking. Simon hooks a finger in your collar and tugs your face up to his for a kiss, long and sweet with emotion before pulling away. The softness in his eyes lingers, and then vanishes, and you know you won't see it again for hours.

"Give her a kiss, Johnny." He instructs, and Johnny knocks your thighs wider, mouth closing just over your clit, tongue flicking against the bud. "That feel good, love?"

"Yes, sir." You're well practiced at speaking under... duress, like this, but it's still a feat. Simon's lips curl into a smirk, and your eyes widen.

"Did you touch yourself, good girl? Did you rub this little clit while we were gone, make yourself come when you weren't supposed to?" He reaches between your legs, stroking a slow circle before closing this thumb and his forefinger in a pinch.

You shriek.

"Tell the truth, now." He's stern, but still, you shake your head.

"Poor darling, just couldn't wait, could you? Couldn't control yourself."

"N-no. No, sir. I didn't- I didn't..." Johnny's pulling something up his phone, video playback of some kind, but you can hardly focus over Simon still holding your clit firm, the pressure too much, but with no friction. Your sanity feels like it's starting to slip away.

"What's this then?" Johnny grabs your face, cheeks squished, and your stomach drops when he presses play, video feed of yourself in bed over a week ago, eyes closed in bliss, hand obviously moving between your legs under the covers. Oh, fuck.

"I didn't mean to." You whisper. You did... but that's not part of the scene. "I swear, sir."

"I think you need some help with this, love. Clearly, you can't be trusted." Simon hums, and then pulls you up to your knees, and then feet.

When he marches you to the bedroom, you know your fate is sealed.

The restraints are always soft. They tie you easily, arms, hands, knees and feet, hooks and o-rings drilled into the bed frame so they can easily string you up. Usually, you love being tied. Love the feeling of helplessness, of being powerless. You're always loved, cherished, taken care of. Unable to make any decisions or do anything on your own, just the way you like it.

Johnny kisses your pussy sloppily, tongue and teeth and lips all over, paying special attention to your clit, working you closer and closer to an orgasm, but pulling away at the last second. It goes on for too long, possibly hours, and you turn to pieces.

It's turned you into a teary, whiny mess. A desperate, pleading girl at the mercy of her boys.

You think you'll finally be given reprieve, finally given your reward when Johnny pulls away to undress, Simon too-

but all hopes are dashed when Simon produces the wand.

"Sir." you whine, trying to flex, but he shakes his head.

"Stay still." It starts on low, not nearly enough to bring you to the edge, and Johnny holds it to your clit, just barely making contact.

You want to scream.

"Please, sir." You won't be able to do hours of this. You'll fall apart, you know it.

Still, they both shake their head. Your hips twitch, head tossing, and Simon smoothes a hand over your belly, stroking the inside of your thighs before covering Johnny's, turning the intensity up, the head of the wand vibrating at the higher frequency, sending shivers and shocks through you. Yes.

"Does it feel good?" Johnny coos, eyes trained on your cunt. You nod, catapulting towards an orgasm.

"Yes, sir... please, can I- ah, fuck, can I cum?" You're going to explode, and you can't until they say. It's ingrained in you.

"Ye can." Johnny says, "give us a big one, good girl, that's it. Look at her, clenchin' up nice and tight." Your orgasm washes you clean, wrings you out, and your spine tenses and then relaxes, thighs desperately trying to close around the wand.

It doesn't stop. Your eyes widen, and Simon presses the button, increasing the intensity- again.

No.

"Stop." You croak, but they only shake their head.

"Cannae stop now, love. Ye've got so many to give us." Your eyes roll back into your skull, body already primed and racing towards another orgasm, muscles too tight.

"N-no, I can't- I- ah, ah- I'm goin' cum, stop, I can't-"

"Go on then." Simon instructs gruffly, giving you permission at the last second, and it rockets through you, explosions erupting through your veins. He doesn't pull it away, and you nearly shriek as it walks the line between pleasure and pain.

Another orgasm comes just as quick as the last, and you cry out, legs straining against the restraints.

Johnny licks your cheeks, kisses your lips, and then slips the velcro belt under your back after it's over.

"No! No, no, please, please-"

"Shhh. It'll feel good, promise." He laughs, bringing the velcro around your belly, strapping the handle of the wand in so the head rests directly over your clit, without anyone having to hold it. "Just what the doctor ordered, hmm? Got to give ye all ye can take, since ye need it so bad. Couldn't wait till we got home."

"I'm s-sorry, sir. I'm-" You choke on your words, and Johnny rubs your arms, positioning himself on all fours above you, nose in your neck.

Not fair.

Simon sees your outrage, and smiles.

"Only good girls get a cock in their hole." He says seriously, and Johnny's eyes flutter shut, lip tugged between his teeth. "Deep breath, good boy- here it comes." You see the moment Simon pushes into his body, the way Johnny's stomach muscles tighten and flutter, how his brows pinch together. He moans, and so does Simon, and your heart aches at being left out.

The wand doesn't allow you to wallow for long. It burns against your sensitive nub now, and when your face starts to heat, Johnny watches intently.

"She's goin' cum again." He groans, body bouncing with the force of Simon's thrusts. His fingers play in the wet slick between your legs. "Fuck, darling. Love when ye get the bed all messy like this." Simon shoves his cock deep and Johnny's mouth drops open, and then they both still, watching, waiting.

"Are you close?" Simon asks sweetly, false sincerity dripping like the tears on your cheeks. You nod pathetically, and they rear back to watch your pussy, more focused there, over your face. "Poor little thing, can't stop 'erself, even if she wanted. Maybe you do need a doctor, love." You're delirious, half listening, half moaning, half delving into madness. You can't tell where your orgasm begins in this moment, the wave of it overtaking you in a gasp.

"Maybe we should have the captain look at her." Johnny grunts, pushing himself back onto Simon, panting. "Have him and his missus give her an inspection."

"Ss-sir," you moan. "sir, please, s-stop. I can't cum anymore." They ignore you.

"We should invite them over." Simon shoves Johnny forward, and his lips curve against your skin, kissing your cheek over and over. You don't know who they're talking about, but sharing is such an alien concept to you right now, the only thing you're able to focus on is the painful bloom of pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck- Simon- Johnny, ah-"

"Again? So soon?" Simon chuckles, and then he cups your pussy, pressing the vibrating head closer, and you scream into your orgasm, black dots spreading across your vision until there's nothing left but a void of darkness.

The next thing you know, you're untied, unstrapped, with your cheek smushed against Simon's chest, Johnny rubbing your back with a washcloth. "There ye are."

"Hi."

"Hi, darling. Welcome back."

#darling in another life #ghoap x reader #peaches writes #Johnny is switch in everything I write sorry about it #🪦 anon #not edited #phone writing

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Request (If I haven't sent this one): How about Makoto and Sakura from Street Fighter having a rival to lovers relationship with a M!S/O?

I do not believe you have. And I had a blast writing this, even if I went WAAAAAY overboard with Sakura's half.

Now! Your wish is my command!

You and Sakura met, not through any normal or socially accepted meeting.

But through a street fight that Sakura had just buttoned up after which you showed up.

Sakura, of course, was not the type to back down from a challenge, especially with someone who knew what they were doing.

Little did she know that she may have been fighting a bit above her weight class.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

You let out a hiss of superheated air as flame ignited upon your skin.

“Muay Thai is the art of eight limbs, hard power in one of its purest forms. Now, allow me to show you why that is.”

After that, things went black for Sakura until she woke up three days later, feeling like she got run over by a semi-truck.

“Oooh-ow, ow, ow, did anyone catch the plate on that truck?” Sakura groaned as she sat up, her ribs feeling as if Ryu himself did a full power Shin Shoryuken on her.

“Kid! Are you good!” the familiar voice of a good friend, Dan Hibiki asked, the emotion clear in his voice, and when Sakura looked at him, his face as he had tears in his eyes.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“So you're telling me-OW! SON OF A!!! mhhm- that this new Street Fighter is a student of Sagat? THE Sagat, Emperor Of Muay Thai, one eye, pet Tiger, THAT Sagat?” Sakura asked as she had her bandages wrapped tightly by one of her friends while Dan sat outside the door.

“Yeah, that Sagat. Listen kid, this new fighter… they don’t play around. Sure, they ain’t as mean as Sagat was when he was young, but they do pack a punch as you have no doubt felt.” Dan advised, more than wary of anyone who fought like Sagat did for reasons that were obvious to those that knew the man.

“I know what you mean, what the hell did I even get hit with anyway? A bomb?” Sakura asked as she stood up, her muscles and bones being quite vocal at their displeasure with this.

“It looked like a version of Sagat’s Tiger Raid, though with much rougher technique.” a familiar, high class voice cut in from the outside.

“Karin!? What are you doing here!” Sakura exclaimed in shock.

“Come now, when would I ever miss a chance like-” Karin began to say, her signature laugh already poised and at the ready before she was cut off.

“Miss Kanzuki here has been stopping by to look in on you every day, if it wasn’t for her and her doc’s you probably would still be unconscious as opposed to up and walking around right now.” Dan stated absentmindedly, unaware of the glare the blonde was now giving him.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The next time Sakura saw you, came several months later, and it was in a place she least expected to find someone like you.

In a small convenience store, stocking shelves.

“YOU!?” Sakura nearly screeched when she saw you, placing bags of chips into their place on the shelves.

“Hello there Miss Kasugano. How are those ribs?” you asked as you stood to face her.

“More than ready for round two if that's what you're asking?” Sakura asked, ready and raring for a rematch.

“Tempting. Unfortunately, I must decline. I have a shift to work.” you declared simply before returning to your work.

Sakura was, understandably, left confused by this.

Wasn’t this the same person that, only a few months ago, beat her into unconsciousness for three days straight in the middle of a street?

Why in the world were they practicing restraint now!

“So, how did someone like you end up working in a place like this?” Sakura asked you as she stood with her arms crossed.

“My teacher taught me that the greatest strength and measure of a fighter is not how hard or fast they hit or the technique they do it with, but their humility, their respect to others, and their discipline. The owner treats me well, allows me access to the roof for practice, with room and board as payment for my work. In turn, I work the counter, protect the shop, and ensure that if any fights were to break out that they would be put to a stop.” you answered succinctly.

“Wait, if you are paid in room and board as opposed to money, then how do you pay for food? And Medicine after a fight?” Sakura asked.

“With my winnings.” you declared before standing and beginning to walk away.

“And what if you lose?” Sakura asked.

“I starve, and I hurt until I win again. However, I have yet to lose since arriving here. Perhaps when we next meet, you could remedy that. Sakura Kasugano.” was all you said.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

After an invitation like that? 

It was on.

Sakura started training like crazy.

She put a bag up with your picture on it, the whole nine yards.

Sure, she nearly got her head taken off by a kick in getting it but that was beside the point.

Dan, for some reason, started teasing her about a crush.

But that was ridiculous, it wasn’t as if she spent every spare minute she had training herself to beat you.

It wasn’t as if she spent her nights thinking about you or anything.

That would be absolutely ridiculous.

Obsessive even!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

When the next fight between the two of you occurred, it had been almost a year to the day after the first one.

It took place on the same street, at the same time of day.

The only difference?

This was now an official Street Fight.

As it turns out, in the year since the first showdown the two of you had, both of you had made names for yourselves.

Everyone was here.

Everyone.

And now, the showdown was set to begin.

Punch for punch.

Kick for kick.

The two of you were evenly matched, each of you pulling out everything the both of you knew to get an edge over the other.

The moves learned.

The moves copied.

Even the moves both of you had come up with yourselves.

But then, eventually, it came down to the both of you being on the ropes, one final move. For both of you.

You let out a hiss of air as flames engulfed you.

“Tiger-”

Sakura breathed deeply as lightning crackled around her.

“Shin-”

You launched forward and shouted “-DESTRUCTION!!!”

Sakura stepped past your attack as she fired off her own and shouted “SHORYUKEN!!!”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Tell me, my student. Was the conversation you had an interesting one?” a voice from your memories asked you as you awoke, a smile on your face despite the pain you felt.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

After that, things quickly snowballed between the two of you.

Both of you fought the other, both of you winning one and then losing the next.

It was a back and forth that everyone had gotten used to over time.

But then, something unexpected occurred.

The two of you hit it off, in a way that was different from the usual between you two.

And it was all thanks to a certain Kunoichi in training that anyone knew about it.

Rindo-Kan Karate was Makoto’s entire life.

Rindo-Kan Karate was her life blood.

It was how she went through life.

She never expected to meet someone similar to her in that regard.

But then she met you.

Someone who put as much pride in their Bajiquan as she did her Rindo-Kan.

Could there be anyone else to be her Rival?

Her brother teased her mercilessly with how much she went on about you.

But… he didn’t understand why she was so… attached to you.

She felt a connection, a sort of kinship with you.

She felt like she could come to you with her problems and that you could come to her with yours.

A sort of… peaceful feeling.

Like she had someone at her back whenever she needed that extra push to go farther than she ever could before.

A strength that only ever came when she thought or talked about you.

And eventually, although she did not truly know it, she fell for you.

You, in turn, fell for her.

Despite that, neither of you were all too quick to come off of it.

Neither of you wanted to lose your friend and rival.

Neither of you wanted to lose the person who gave them the strength to push further than ever before.

Eventually however, Makoto tossed caution to the wind.

And to this day, she is glad she did.

#street fighter x reader #street fighter #sakura kasugano #sakura kasugano x reader #makoto street fighter #makoto street fighter x reader

[contentioussnake]

Something that really draws me to the Tom Riddle persona, and subsequently Tomarry, is that for all the "manipulative" tags on Ao3, HP is largely full of wholesome personalities. Even the bad guys are mostly pathetic (Draco, Umbridge, etc), or completely insane (Barty Jr, Bellatrix, etc), which lacks a certain bite for me personally. I delight in reading uniquely cold practical personalities, ruthless characters, cuddling up to their thought processes, and watching the mess they leave in their wake. Not every Tomarry dynamic in every fic is for me, but most times it's fun and compelling. I love mind games, power plays, and long term planning/manipulation, and I feel like there's a lot you can do with a character like that to have a story retain its conflict and momentum. I definitely found a hp ship I can really vibe with.

#tomarry #hp #tom riddle #Honestly that type of personality is mostly similar to mine although #I'm not awful and avoid cruelty typically #it's the practicality and emotional restraint

[itspileofgoodthings]

Also it’s like the time I was teaching much ado about nothing and we were breaking down the Beatrice and Benedick scene where he says “May a man do it” and she says “it is a man’s office but not yours” and I was saying that the point of the scene and the struggle for Benedick is that he needs to say “I am the man for the job because I’m YOUR man” and one of my senior boys just kind of laughed and was like “Miss K. You can’t just SAY things like that to us.”

#much ado about nothing #teaching tag #A FAVORITE memory because it was so funny and real. the class was so quiet #but the thing about teaching teenagers (or really anyone I guess but especially teenagers) is 99% of them are not going to show you #a damn thing about how they’re taking the things you’re saying #(Which really. Thank goodness for because that would be too much) #but every once in a while one of them will put something into words. and he was just like. #‘you can’t be that emotionally honest about this. It’s too overwhelming to listen to’ #(But in a sweet and cheerful way! he was a delight of a student and I loved teaching him) #And I love restraint! And propriety! And I practice it every day in the classroom #But once all the boundaries are set up I love to pull absolutely no punches and just watch them be staggered by an emotional truth #that I’ve just articulated in some way they can understand #and it IS overwhelming it IS too much but what else is literature for #may we all be overwhelmed and then awakened

[myfictionaldreams]

Subspace // Batboys x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel introduces Rhysand and Cassian to Subspace, with your help, of course.

A/N: Please make sure to read the tags before reading. Specifically for the breathplay aspect, as it's nearly to the point of passing out. This is also a reminder that this is a work of fiction and not a way to teach fetishes; if I have described anything wrong, then I apologise; this is just my interpretation of a specific scenario. It is not real. Please stay safe out there if trying different kinks, only practice with those you trust!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, Polyamory, Mates, creampie, size kink, dom/sub undertones, rough sex/oral, restraints, praise kink, masturbation, subspace (!), discussion of safe words, multiple orgasms (!), crying, overstimulation, fingering, breathplay (!!), nearly passing out, cum eating, past emotional abuse (ex), aftercare

Words:6.4 k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Unsure as to who was louder with their orgasmic cries, you or Cassian, as he pumps you full with his seed, the pulse of his cock matching the time of your fluttering cunt. Not only was Cassian’s cum coating your inners, mixing with your slick, but also that of his High Lord, who had thoroughly filled you moments before. A steady creamy puddle had been dripping out of your delicate hole and was saturating the satin bedsheets beneath.

It was a beautiful sight to Cassian as he tried to catch his breath, staring down at where you were both still connected as his firm hands clenched around your thighs where he was currently pressing your legs so far back that your knees and ears almost touched.

You always mused that you thought he looked like a God when he looked like this. Yes, others who had witnessed your mate on the battlefield, in charge of his High Lord's armies and defeating the enemies, was a sight to behold and often had people whispering for the Mother.

You agreed with this astonishment, but when seeing him like this, naked, muscles flexing from the exertion, a sweaty sheen over his body that caused his hair to stick to his face and the pure dominance that radiated from his energy. Cassian was beautiful, as was each of your mates, but with his cock currently still stretching you full, there was no one else on your mind but him.

Cassian’s full mouth twisted into an all-knowing, arrogant smirk as he gazed down at your lust-filled eyes ravishing his body.

“I’m surprised you’re still conscious after that; you must really be in a mood”, he jests with an eyebrow raised, the scar running through it moving with the movement. You’d have laughed and agreed with him if you had the energy. These ‘moods’ that he referred to was the polite way your mates described you being unfathomably horny.

Of course, you wanted your mates every second that there was air in your lungs, but sometimes it would become so overwhelming your skin felt too tight, heart palpations, tremble in your fingers that would settle until one of their bodies was touching yours. Rhysand reassured that it was expected to feel this way whilst newly mated, and you had not one but three mates - possibly a joke played to you by the Cauldron - so it was rational for your body's reactions to be heightened.

That didn’t make it any easier as you fucked each of them to multiple orgasms and only felt sated after reaching a new unconscious state. You were close too, but not close enough as you continued to admire Cassian, from how his beautiful wings stretched out behind him to how his tongue swiped over his bottom lip, moistening them for a moment before he dipped lower.

The kiss was heated and messy, saliva and sweat mixing on your tongues as they stroked together. A flicker of joy warmed in the centre of your chest as you could finally run your fingers through his damp hair, tucking the strands behind his rounded ears so you could see his face without the shadows.

Each of your legs was carefully lowered on either side of his body so that his chest pressed against yours. His powerful arms now rested beside your head so that he could stroke the back of his knuckles against your cheeks.

The affection and love he was projecting were the opposite reactions to moments ago when he was pounding into you like it was his latest mission. After Rhysand had teased and pinned you to the bedpost, making you orgasm until your knees trembled and he had to carry you to the bed where he finally came inside of you, Cassian had chuckled that he wasn’t sure you could handle him with the fucked out expression on your face.

You smirked and instructed him to fuck as hard as possible. Cassian never backed down from a challenge and did just this, leaving you exhausted and dreamy.

“Cauldron, I fucking love you”, Cassian pants into your mouth, the warmth of his breath tickling your neck as he kisses his way to the sensitive area below your ear.

“I love you too, " you sigh in contentment, fingers lowering over his powerful shoulders, causing him to shiver as you neared his sensitive wings.

As his lips hovered over the shell of your pointed ear, he whispered, “Do you really think you can handle my brother's cock?”

You can’t help the giggle that bursts from you, wishing you could stroke Cassian’s ego and say you were too tired for the last of your mates, but that would be a complete and utter lie.

“Oh, I know she can, can’t you, my love?” Azriel's deep voice comes from behind Cassian, who observes you closely. The male hovering over you turned to look at his friend over his shoulder, but Azriel continued to glance at you as his wing twitched, indicating Cass to move.

With one last kiss to your cheek, the warmth and weight of Cassian crawled from your body, meaning the setting sun was now directly beaming into your eyes, causing you to try to bury your face into the pillow beneath your head. “What can I say? I’m greedy for you all”, you insisted with a sigh, smiling to yourself but attempting to keep your voice quiet after seeing the windowless arches to the sun.

You were pretty sure all of Veleris had heard you being fucked by your mates, and every time you remembered that there were no windows in your home and only the sheer curtains flowing in the breeze, you attempted to keep the noise down. This only meant that your mates’ attempts to make you cry out in euphoria improved tenfold.

“Insatiable you are indeed”, growled the voice of the male who had been quietly watching the three of you interact. Rhysand’s usually perfectly combed hair was thoroughly ruffled from and sticking to his temple from where you’d been running your fingers through it earlier in the afternoon. Your eyes connected with his; the usual brightness that gleamed with the violet colour seemed clouded to a near-pitch-black colour of pure night as he admired his mate being thoroughly worshipped on the bed.

You were thankful the three of them were so close, Brothers in a way that close childhood friends were. Their possessive tendencies were always there, growling or baring their teeth at one another when they’d decided it was enough touching. However, most of the time, they were patient, more content with the fact that you were feeling happy and thoroughly pleasured. On the occasions where all three of them touched you simultaneously, it was more fun than you could handle most days due to the manhandling and dominance, but that’s always what made it more fun.

Today was not one of those days, though, as you admired your handsome High Lord as he stroked his thick cock slowly, those dark eyes searching over your body and resting on the puddle that was growing beneath your cunt.

Smiling over at him, Rhysand’s lips twitched into a soft gaze, the speed of his hand increasing as the joy on your face increased his arousal. For a moment, you contemplated trying to crawl over to him, kneel on the floor and offer to keep his cock warm with your mouth, but the growing shadow forming at the end of the excessively large bed captured your focus entirely. 

You’d thought for a moment that Azriel’s shadows had been the object to block out the sun from blinding your vision, but a quick glance showed you that it was his wing, which meant a deep red hue now covered your body from the sun beaming through the membrane of his wing.

An ice-cold breeze circled your ankles, dragging your attention away from Azriel as his shadows formed into pairs of hands, trapping your legs in their spread position. Licking your lips in anticipation, you attempted to sit up and reach for Az, but the shadows grew in size, skimming over your sides and adding pressure to your shoulders until you were lying back down. The pressure remained over your shoulders, and further hands firmly gripped around your wrists so that they were pinned to your side. There was no getting out of the hold you were now captured within, and as your pulse began to pound within your chest, a delicate caress against your cheek fluttered by as the shadows tried to calm away your anxieties.

Azriel watched you closely, from the way your breathing rate increased as anticipation and adrenaline began to pound through your veins to the way more thick white cum dripped out of your cunt with the movements.

The Shadowsinger’s head tilted to the left as he asked, “Do you remember what we discussed earlier?” Azriel could have been perceived as the opposite if Cassian had looked like a God earlier. The setting sun beamed around his body, causing a light aura over his outline, but the front of his body darkened into a shadow so that you couldn’t see his handsome face. Power rolled off of him in waves as he waited for your answer.

Your mouth became suddenly dry, making it difficult to form words, so you simply nodded yes in response.

“Wait, what did you talk about earlier?” Cassian asks as he heaves his bulky body into the spare seat on the opposite side of Rhysand. Your eyes flicked to him for a second, noting the fact that his cock was still very much hard and now glistening in your juices. Cassian spread his legs and took the object of your desire in hand, beginning to stroke slowly, his balls tightening due to the action.

You didn’t answer, not wanting to discuss what had been talked about earlier. Azriel took a step closer to the bed, not taking his eyes off you for a second, as he casually remarked, “You’ll see. "

“You know, it’s not nice to keep secrets from your High Lord, " Rhys says quietly, his eyes flicking to Azriel with the underlying command that laced his words.

“All you need to know is that we have trust between the four of us. I know what I’m doing, and our sweet mate knows what’s doing and has trust. Isn’t that right, Love?”

“Yes, I trust you. All of you, " you say confidently, gripping the sheets beneath you until your knuckles strain.

Azriel nods, moving closer to the bed's end as his shadows pin your body down. “And what else do you need to tell me?” Azriel asks.

“If I want you to stop, I shake my head, say red, or tap twice” As you explained, you made the motion, tapping against the bed and shaking your head no.

“Good girl”, Az praises, his deep tone causing sparks of arousal to heat in your pussy as you attempted to rub your thighs together to ease some of the tension, but the shadows kept your legs separated.

Cassian’s fist stopped moving as he looked between you and Azriel and asked, “Are you sure I don’t need to be worried if we’re talking about safe worlds?” 

“It’s fine”, you answer in place of Az. “I wanted to try this and didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, which you two are making with the silent conversation I know you’re having, so please, just have some trust that this is something that I want, and it’s safe”. Cassian at least had the decency to look embarrassed, having been caught talking to Rhysand mind-to-mind. However, the High Lord just continued to glance between his Shadowsinger and you with uncertainty. 

A flick of coolness strokes down your sternum, and a shadow spirals over your skin. Azriel continues to use the darkness to praise you with subtle touches.

Cass leans further back into the chair until it groans under the strain of his powerful body. “Fine, fine. I’ll shut my big mouth”, he explains with a grin, his fingers tightening around his cock once more.

You were too busy admiring the drip of precum that had formed at the tip of Cass’ cock that you’d not noticed that Azriel was finally on the bed until his ice-cold scarred fingers trailed up the sensitive area of your inner thigh.

“I’ve been counting, you know”, Azriel casually mentions under his breath.

“Counting?” you ask, confused about what he was referring to.

Azriel settles between your knees; with him having moved closer, you could see him in all of his glory, the smooth, perfectly formed muscles over his body, the black swirls of both ink and shadows that ran over his skin and those captivating hazel eyes that seemed even darker than Rhys’.

“How many times you’ve came. I’ve been counting. Even the little one, you didn’t verbalise as Rhys took you from behind. Now, usually, at this point, you’ve had so many. I know you’re only one or two away from passing out, but that’s not our plan for today, is it?”

Even though your cheeks flood with warmth at his truth, you still shake your head, wishing you could reach up for him. Azriel smirked cooly down at you as his hands began to smooth over your stomach, higher until cupping your breasts, his finger and thumb pinching your pebbled nipples, causing you to moan and try and arch into the touch.

“My greedy, greedy girl. Is it not enough that both of my brothers have made you cum all of those times already?”

“I need you” you gasp breathlessly at his rough touches as he continues to play with your already sensitive nipples.

“And I need you”, he says earnestly, and you couldn’t deny the whimper that left your throat at his words. “What do you want first, fingers, mouth or cock?”

“Cock”, you say without a hint of hesitation but are unable to look him in the eye at the use of the crude word, which also earned a hearty laugh from Rhys.

Azriel’s hand's massage further up your body until he's covering you completely, almost in the same position that Cass had been, as his fingers cup around your jaw and hips slot between your thighs.

“My pretty girl can have my cock”, Azriel muses as he lowers his lips to hover just over yours, not closing the gap entirely as you try and lean up to capture his mouth, but he teases by staying an inch away.

You’re soon distracted by your cunt once more, stretching to accommodate your sizeable mate, particularly Azriel. A moment passed when he allowed you to collect your breath before his restraint was released.

He fucked you with long, powerful thrusts that, if you weren’t already being held down to the bed, you probably would have shifted up into the headboard with how hard his hips slammed into yours. Those lips of his that you had been desperate to kiss finally closed the gap as well, absorbing all your begs and moans for more. The restraints around your wrists released but only for a moment as Az eased your hands above your head, holding your crossed-over wrists in one hand as his other squeezed and held onto your hip for stability.

The dominance of his hold was similar to how Cass and Rhys had held you, but there was just something else when it came to Az; whether it be his shadows or the way he paid such close attention to your body, he seemed to be able to bring you right to the edge in no time at all.

Pulling your lips back from his for a second, you gasped, “I-” Your words failed with the need to tell him you want to orgasm, but he already knows.

“Cum for me”, he demands, not slowing with his fucking. Your cunt tightened around his girthy cock, squeezing in flutters until you were squeezing your eyes closed and forgetting to breathe.

The hand on your hip moved to your throat, wrapping around it, pressing slightly but not enough to stop you breathing as he ordered, “Cum again”. 

You weren’t sure whether it was a shadow or the specific way he was rolling his hips, but your clit was being massaged in time with his thrusts, and you were just about ready to explode. One orgasm led to another without a break in between, and with the previous orgasms that you’d already experienced, Azriel was right that something seemed to switch as you reached your level of exhaustion. 

“You look so beautiful when you're cumming on my cock. Want to know how I’ve been keeping count of your orgasms? When you cum, your eyes glaze over for just a second, like you’re so lost in pleasure that you leave your body and then come back, but feeling how tight your cunt is gripping me right now is just a bonus”.

Hearing his words and grunts had you in a state of pure bliss, wishing even more that your arms were free to hold onto some part of his body. Your mouth opens to let out a mewling moan, biting your bottom lip as you try to remain focused on Az.

“I know it’s a lot for you to deal with. Love, do you need to use your words?”

“No, please don’t stop”, you demand, trying to roll your hips to match his movements, but the weight on top of your body pinned that area of you down.

“Good girl. Want to cum together? I know you can do it again for me; I know you’re sensitive, but let’s cum together, my love”, he groans as he finishes his demands as he watches your eyes glaze and then roll back as your cunt begins to squeeze him tightly in bursts as you came again.

Azriel’s wings flared even further, nearly knocking Cassian and Rhys as he came with a heavy grunt and thrust, stilling so that every drop emptied inside of you until there was no room left, and it began to trickle out to join the puddle of your other two mates on the sheets below.

Soft lips caressed your cheek as Az praised you with kind words, “You did so well for me”. He moved lower, exploring your throat, collarbones, sternum, over your belly button and only then did you realise what his plans were. “I’m not done with you yet”.

The shadows release your ankles so that your mate can grip your legs and press your thighs back, baring your thoroughly fucked, pulsing, cum filled cunt to him. Az growls as he delves his tongue deep within, feeling the lingering pulses of your overstimulated walls, the softness that had slightly swollen from the amount of fucking you’d been doing.

Even though you released a guttural scream, back arching as far as you could reach, his warm tongue was a welcome sensation, soothing the ache. Your arousal also burned in your core at the thought of Azriel eating all the different concoctions of seed still spilling out, but he only groaned in pleasure at the taste. 

You were enjoying the feeling of his tongue trying to empty your pussy of juices with a flick and curl of the muscle, but as he moved p to your hypersensitive, swollen and throbbing clit, the fire and burning returned as he circled the nub slowly.

“Ah!” you cry out as your eyes clench close, attempting to close your legs, but he held them firmly open.

“Eyes on me”, Azriel demands, looking up at your face closely to look for signs if it's too much or if you’re doing any sort of sign for him to stop.

“Please!” you beg, eyes widening as you make sure to look at him lying with his face between your legs, his hair sticking up, and once more, your hands itched to stroke through the strands. You weren’t entirely sure what you were begging for, but as he continued with the slow circling of your clit with his tongue and the burning subsided and was replaced with the tightening within your pussy, you knew you were going to cum again. The thought frankly scared you with how many you’d had already.

“I know you can do it”, he encourages as his wet tongue returns to your hole as his cold thumb presses your clit. Tears had begun to line your eyes, streaking down your cheeks as you came with a cry, your entire body trembling and muscles aching from the amount of tensing you’d been doing for what seemed like hours now.

Your hearing was turning fuzzy, so when Rhys deeply groaned as he came over his chest from watching you orgasm so hard, it sounded like he was in another room, almost like cotton wool had been forced into your ears.

“It’s too much, " you hiccup, wishing you could wipe away the tears wetting the pillow beneath your head.

Azriel tried to sound as sympathetic as possible as he looked up at you, kissing your thigh that was once more being held back by shadows, “I know, my love, but only a few more times. You can do it”. You cry out once more as he begins to lower his face back to your pussy but pauses just as two of his fingers circle your hole. “Remember what we talked about?” Nodding your head in response whilst maintaining eye contact, he continued, “You’re in control of the situation, understand?”

“Yes, I understand”, you utter whilst taking a deep breath, trying to calm your cries. His two fingers enter you slowly at first, easing and out before a third one joins. Usually, it would take you some time to adjust to the size of his fingers, but after the sizeable cocks, you didn’t need any prep for the three fingers.

Az moved them with speed, curling to stroke against that beautiful spot that had stars beaming in your eyesight which only heightened as his lips sealed around your already overstimulated clit, and he sucked. He knew exactly what he was doing, and with each orgasm that came, the response was more exaggerated from you, and the time between them decreased. You were pretty sure if he continued, you would just be having one single orgasm that went on and on until you inevitably passed out.

Just when you're tensing all over, cunt tightening around his three fingers, did he move in with the next and final step of his plan. Azriel's icey, scarred hand wrapped around your nose and mouth. It was a relief at first to have something cool against your hot skin, but as you tried to suck in a breath as your orgasm neared closer, the panic set in.

It was what you had hoped for, to have the control taken away, but knowing that if you tapped your fingers or shook your head underneath his palm, it would stop. The thing was, you were already beginning to feel somewhat loopy from the orgasms that you didn’t want it to stop, which was why Azriel was doing this; he knew your body down the tiniest detail, especially with his shadows whispering away in his ear, counting your heartbeat.

The adrenaline only seemed to increase further as panic was doubling as you attempted to pull against the shadows around your wrists and thighs. The overwhelming pleasure between your lungs was the only thing that burned more than the need to breathe. You’re unsure what you need more, to cum or breath, but you’re only given one option, just as dark spots replaced the stars in your vision as you came around his fingers with an incredible squeeze of your walls around the digits.

Musky, sweated scented air filled your lungs desperately as his hand now cupped your cheek, supporting you as you tried to regain your full consciousness, but as Azriel continued to finger you, now at a slower pace, all you could think about was him and nothing more.

“That’s it- nice deep breaths for me. You’re doing so well for me. Did that feel good?” Az asks.

“Ye-Yes!��� you stutter while trying to catch your breath. Your head lolls to one side while you nuzzle into his palm. Your eyes are entirely gazed at and unfocused, looking down at your mate.

“Good”, is all he says as he returns to sucking your clit and covering your mouth and nose again.

This time he had to tap your face a few times after you came to rouse you properly, but you were still greedily sucking air without an issue. However, now, Cassian and Rhys had stood, towering over the sides of the beds with concern, but arousal still evident across their beautiful faces.

“That’s a good girl. How do you feel?” Azriel asks, ignoring the two other males.

“Goo-Good. Good, " you say repeatedly, having only the energy and mental capacity to repeat the same words repeatedly.

You’re starting to feel a tingling sensation throughout your limbs, the edges of your sight blurring completely as your thoughts remain on how good you felt. Az watched you so closely that you weren’t sure he was blinking. “I know I can get you to cum one more time for me”.

However, before you can nod, you’re both interrupted by Rhysand growling, “Azriel. She’s had enough”.

“No, she hasn’t. I know she hasn’t. Just trust me. You can do this, can’t you, Love?” Azriel asks you.

Making sure to look him in the eye, you nod your head and say, “Yes”. Those special fingers of his begin curling with great speed once more as his tongue circles your throbbing clit.

You’re breathing heavily, screaming constantly until the air is cut off once more. Your lungs burn, your head is spinning, and all you can think of is cumming, begging silently to cum for Azriel, to be good for him, that you could do this, you could cum and show your other mates that Azriel was right.

As your orgasm rushes through you, your entire body does the opposite as it had been before. Instead of tensing, it went completely limp, eyes rolling back as your cunt continued to pulse and squeeze around his digits. When your eyes opened again, Azriel was half hovering above you, his fingers carefully easing out of your cunt, but you could hardly feel it as he tapped your cheeks a few times to bring you around more.

“I-I-I-I-I”, you mumbled incoherently as the shadows dispersed from your body entirely so you were no longer restrained.

“Shhh, you’re ok. You’re safe, Love, you’re ok”, Azriel whispers carefully as he begins to massage areas of your body to help you feel more, but it doesn’t help the complete and utter bliss settled through your mind and soul. It felt as if you were floating, and you never wanted to come back down again.

Azriel gave silent instructions to Rhysand, who shared these with Cassian as they stood beside the side of the bed, unsure if they should be ripping Azriel apart or helping their mate.

“Azriel”, Cassian warns, his entire body stiff and muscles flexing as he watches you blink heavily, body twitching with uncontrollable movements. Even though you were sucking in deep breaths, it seemed like you couldn’t catch your breath again.

“She’s fine, aren’t you?” Azriel asks, stroking away the flowing tears that you hadn’t noticed had started again down your cheeks.

“Ye-Ye-Yes. Yes, Yes”, you say, nodding tiredly.

“Are you sure?” Cass whispers, kneeling on the side of the bed and reaching for your hand, noticing that you couldn’t even squeeze his hand back as he held it carefully.

“Just give her some time; her head is all over the place at the moment, but it’s exactly where she wanted to be”, the Shadowsinger explained under his breath, still watching you very closely.

“Cu-Cum, cum”, you mutter, words still somewhat muffled from how heavy your tongue felt in your mouth.

“What’s that,  Love?” Azriel asks, “You want to cum again?”

“Y-Yes”, you nod slowly, still staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Azriel smiles down at you. “So good for me. I think you’ve had enough for today. Just take some slow, deep breaths for me” You follow his instructions, taking slow, deep breaths until you don’t feel breathless anymore. As exhaustion begins to take over, your eyes close, but those scarred hands tap gently against your cheek to keep them open; you can’t even feel the temperature of his cold hands.

“I need you to keep your eyes on me. I don’t want you to fall asleep in this headspace, okay? Just like we talked about. "

“Ok”, you say just once, looking up at him but not seeing at all.

“What headspace? Did you break my mate, Azriel?” Rhysand snarls as he, too, kneels on the side of the bed, his wings extended to match his Brothers. The darkness of night crawls from his tense shoulders as he reaches forward to run a hand over the arm and leg closest to him.

“She’s not broken; she’s just floating. Isn’t that right?” You nod, looking only at Azriel. Cass sighs through his nose, having not had the answers given to him right away, as Az continues to give only half sentences. “I’ll explain in a minute, but I just need you to be there for her as she properly comes back”.

It takes several moments of tense massaging and silent raging for the boys as they watch you tiredly blink, the unfocused gaze and dreamy stare slowly hardening until you’re actually looking at your surroundings, shivering at the coolness of Azriel’s hands as they travel down your ribs.

Floating was the only way you could describe the experience like you had miraculously grown your own pain of Iillyrian wings and were flying through the clouds without care. Even the soft sheets beneath you couldn’t be felt when you were in that high headspace. Not even your name could be drawn out of you if asked, but slowly, with the help of your mate's touches and scents and Rhysand caressing the wall in your mind, you finally topple back to reality.

Eyes flicking between your three mates, two of which looked like they were bracing for war,  you finally gave a tentative smile, feeling your cheeks warming back up from their intense gazes. 

“There’s my girl”, Cass praises as he squises your wrist gently.

“Hey”, you whisper croakily, throat aching from all the screaming you’d been doing.

Azriel lowers himself, kissing your lips carefully once before maintaining intense eye contact. At this close proximity, you can see the hints of green throughout his hazel eyes. “You’re safe with us; you know that, right?”

“Yes, I know. I feel safe”, you reassure him, trying to lift your hand to caress his cheeks, but your arms are still too quick.

“Good, we’re going to bath together and clean you up. Then I think we need to explain to these two what’s happened”, Azriel explained as you nodded in understanding and closed your eyes, but a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose had you opening them again as his gaze softened, “I still need you to keep your eyes open. I don’t think you’re completely back yet, so no sleeping just yet.”

Before you can nod in understanding, two arms are carefully shifting beneath your body. One hook is under your knees, and the other supports your back as Rhysand lifts you to his chest, your head carefully laying across his shoulder as he walks the two of you into the bathing room.

Nuzzling into his warmth, he rested the two of you in the vast-sized bath and began to run the water hot, letting it slowly creep up your body as you sat between his muscular legs. Rhys held you close, ensuring that your eyes remained open and on his. The violet colour returned to the brightness you were used to as he continued to massage your limbs back to life.

Splashing from behind you indicates that the other two had joined in the water as they both hissed at the heat soaking into their muscles. Az takes your legs into his lap, massaging carefully over your calves as Cass takes hold of a hand, kissing the back of it and linking your fingers together.

Everyone’s attention then turns to Azriel as he begins to explain. “It’s called subspace”.

“Sub? Space?” Cassian repeats slowly, as if trying to sound out the new phrase but is entirely unsure.

“Yes”, continued Az, “It’s related to hormones and an emotional state where an individual becomes so lost within the moment, almost like a trance, that they aren’t able to make decisions for themselves and experience side effects like feeling the sensation that they are floating or euphoric. Similar to an out-of-body experience or a high. It can come from a physical response like shown today or an emotional response depending on how submissive the individual is”.

Rhysand seemed to tense further after the explanation, so you tried to lean into his body more as he began to talk. “Right, ok.  So, this is something you’ve experienced before?”  he asks, tilting his head down to look at you.

“Yes”, you say stoically, now not looking him in the eye as your fingers curl and grip Cassian, as the sensations return to you. “You know the male that I was with years before I met any of you? He um- He,” you were struggling to find the correct phases to say as you could feel the tension suddenly thick in the air at the mention of your previous lover.

Thankfully, Azriel continued the explanation for you, but you didn’t miss the stern tone of his voice. “With subspace, it’s important for the one experiencing it to have some sort of support. As I’ve explained, it’s to consent or look after yourself when going through a high like this. What my love is trying to explain is that this fucker used to leave her like how she was and either go drinking or fall asleep. She’d be on her own and-” Azriel blows out a long, steady breath as he closes his eyes, the shadows beginning to shake around him with the increase of his anger.

Sitting up further in Rhys’ lap, you continued the discussion. “I like getting to the point of being in subspace. It feels so freeing, and I trust you all to look after me; that’s why I spoke to Az first, just to make sure that you’d even want to try it, and I know it can look scary. But with my previous partner, he would leave me by myself, and I’d fall asleep, and when I woke up, I would have this impending doom sensation. I’ve read that it still has something to do with hormones. Still, I would feel so low and depressed without the support, almost like I was going to die with how low I felt. Still, after a few days, I would feel back to normal”.

You wanted to be open with them all, but seeing them all holding back some restraint with the anger they were experiencing, you knew you needed to pull them back before they went on the hunt.

“Please, for the love of the Mother, tell me this fuckers name”, Cassian demands lowly. It was your only secret, the name of the male you’d once been with and had been emotionally scarred from. You were unsure as to why, whether it be fear or to refrain from violence, but you had never told any of them the name.

Shaking your head no, you collapse further into Rhys, which causes some tension to leave his body as he holds you close with an arm around your waist and his lips caressing the back of your head.

“You know, I could just slip into your mind and find out”, Rhyand whispers, stating something that both Cass and Az were wondering.

“Yes, you could, but you won’t, " you confidently say. It was the one wish you had made him promise upon becoming mate- no creeping through your mind, no matter what. Rhys kisses your head again to confirm that he wouldn’t do this.

“So this subspace, " Cassian interrupts the anger by changing the subject to something you were thankful for. Are you sure it feels good? I thought you had passed out earlier, which frightened me, to be truthful with you. "

Your fingers squeeze his once more as you look over at him and give him a reassuring smile, “It feels amazing and a little addicting to feel like that and like I said, I trust the three of you more than anyone. Usually, it doesn’t take long for me to fall into subspace, but it’s been a while; I think I’ve put some barriers up in my mind to stop going to that place because of my past”.

“And luckily for her, I’ve seen this sort of thing before”, Azriel explains.

“So how do we make sure she doesn’t feel awful like she did with that fucker?” Cass asks with a subtle growl.

“Aftercare”, Az explains with a shrug of his shoulders, “Exactly like you have been doing already. Making sure she stays awake and feels safe, food and water helps. Talking to her, holding her, and warm baths are always good”.

You gently smile with Azriel as he lists what you cherish most about aftercare, but Cassian’s next question causes you to nearly bite your tongue.

“And the choking? To the point where she nearly passed out. Was that part of the subspace, too?”

Azriel smirks cockily as you giggle and hide your face in Rhys’ chest. “No, she just wanted to try that out. It’s called breathplay. It’s not for everyone; I’ve had some experience with it. Can’t just go around choking people until they pass out like a brute, Cass”.

The water sways as your mate shoves Az in the shoulder.

The chest you’re learning on begins to vibrate as Rhys muses, “Guess even after 500 years of living, I still have lots to learn”. You hum in response, exhaustion fully settling into your body now as you wish to close your eyes so you look over at Az,

“Can I sleep yet?”

“Not yet. I need you to eat and drink something first. Stay here; I’ll get you something, " he explains as he kisses your knee, lowers your feet into Cass’s lap, and climbs out of the bath. You sigh into the embrace of your other mates.

#batboys smut #batboys x reader #acotar smut #acotar #batboys #azriel x reader #azriel smut #azriel #rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand smut #cassian smut #cassian x reader #cassian #ive never written for acotar before im excited #mine*

[natsaffection]

Mafias Mistress pt. 2 | N.R

MafiaBoss!Natasha x CivilianYounger!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Age gap (Natasha is 32 = reader ist 22), kinda mean Nat, Daddy kink, BDSM, restraints, Begging, multiple orgasm, strap on (r receiving) rough sex, fingering (r receiving) poor Natty who doesn’t understand feelings 🤲🏼

Word Count: 3,7 K

A/N: Second part is here! More details about the relationship will appear in the next chapter + maybe Natasha’s secret will already be revealed, who knows🙌🏻🙌🏻

The air in the dimly lit room was thick with tension, a palpable sense of danger surrounding the two women seated at the mahogany table. Natasha Romanoff exuded an aura of power and mystery with her piercing green eyes and wavy red hair falling past her shoulders. She tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the polished surface, a subtle yet commanding gesture that spoke volumes about her authority.

Maria Hill, whose steely gaze and unwavering loyalty were etched into every line of her face, stood by Natasha's side like a watchful sentinel. Her clenched jaw and furrowed brow betrayed the gravity of the situation. As she began to update Natasha on the latest developments in the shadow world they navigated with practiced finesse, a sense of unease settled over the room like a heavy cloak.

Maria's voice was quiet and measured as she described the intricate web of alliances and betrayals that threatened to engulf her carefully built empire.

"Dreykov's men have invaded our territory, testing our defenses, trying to find a weak spot," Maria explained, her tone a mixture of concern and determination. Natasha leaned back in her chair, the soft leather creaking slightly under her weight, her eyes never leaving Maria's face.

The crackle of the fireplace in the corner sent flickering shadows dancing across the walls, adding an eerie undertone to the already tense atmosphere in the room. Natasha's fingers closed around the crystal glass of whiskey in front of her, the amber liquid swirling hypnotically as she considered Maria's words. Beneath her calm facade simmered a variety of conflicting emotions, a potent cocktail of concern, admiration, and a simmering undercurrent of defiance.

Natasha's mind was like a stormy sea, each wave crashing against the walls she had carefully built around herself. Maria watched her carefully, her sharp eyes noticing every slight change in Natasha's demeanor. The weight of unspoken words lay heavy between them, a silent understanding that went beyond mere words.

Natasha's gaze flickered from Maria's unwavering eyes to the crackling fireplace in the corner, as if seeking comfort in the dancing flames. The room seemed to shrink around them, suffocating in its intimacy, each breath taken with measured caution.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Last Night ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The room was shrouded in shadow, the only source of light coming from the dimly lit bedside lamp. Natasha leaned back on the silk sheets, her gaze fixed on the woman in front of her, her expression a mixture of desire and dominance.

"Daddyyy.." whispered the woman who was Natasha's nightly attendant, her voice trembling with anticipation. Natasha's lips curved into a predatory smile as she beckoned the woman closer, her eyes dark with desire. "Come here," she commanded, her voice dripping with authority.

The woman obeyed, her movements careful as she approached Natasha, keenly aware of the power dynamics at play. Natasha's touch was possessive, her hands sliding over the woman's skin with a need that bordered on desperation.

In the heat of the moment, Natasha's mind wandered to forbidden fantasies, her desires leading her down a treacherous path. And then, in a moment of reckless abandon, she spoke a name that did not belong to the woman herself, but held power beyond imagination.

"Y/n.." Natasha murmured, her voice animated with desire as she lost herself in her fantasy.

The woman froze at the unfamiliar name, her heart skipping a beat as she tried to understand Natasha's slip of the tongue. "Y/n?" she began, her voice shaking with uncertainty. "Who is Y/n?"

Natasha's expression darkened, her features twisting with hurt as she realized her mistake. "What do you mean?" she snapped, her voice irritated.

The woman took a deep breath, bracing herself for what she was about to say. "The name..." she explained, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. "You just said a different name, Y/n.."

Natasha's eyes narrowed at the mention of your name, her defenses instinctively rising to protect her fragile heart. "That name means nothing to me," she insisted, her voice cold and dismissive.

But the woman saw through Natasha's facade and recognized the pain and longing that lay beneath the surface. "Natasha, please," she pleaded, her voice laced with compassion. "I can see it in your eyes, feel it in the way you said her name. Who is she?"

Natasha's anger flared, her facade of control fading as she pushed the woman away with a forceful gesture. "Enough," she growled, her voice sharp with frustration. "You're here for my pleasure, nothing more, remember that."

The woman backed away at Natasha's sudden outburst, her heart sinking as she realized the futility of her efforts. "I-I know! But I might be able to help you with that..with her. Sounded like you were caring-"

But Natasha was beside herself with reason, her mind clouded by anger and fear. "Get out of here," she ordered, her voice icy and unforgiving. "I don't want to see you again."

The woman's heart shattered at Natasha's words, the pain of rejection cutting deeper than any physical wound. With one last sad look, she turned and fled the room, leaving Natasha alone in the darkness with her demons.

As the door closed behind her, Natasha was left with nothing but the echo of her own regret, the weight of her choices pressing down on her like a suffocating blanket. And in that moment of loneliness, she realized the true price of her pride and stubbornness.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Now ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Maria cleared her throat, bracing herself for what she was about to say. "Our sources have confirmed that the rival cartel is taking steps to expand its territory," she began, her voice firm despite the tension in the room. "They are targeting our key distribution networks and..."

Natasha's mind wandered, a hint of annoyance crossing her face as memories of the past overshadowed her thoughts. Your face popped into her mind, an unwelcome reminder of a vulnerability she had long buried.

"Natasha?" Maria's voice broke through the fog, jolting Natasha back to the present.

Natasha's jaw clenched as she forced herself to focus, pushing aside the unwelcome memories that threatened to consume her. "Continue," she commanded, her voice clipped and dismissive.

Maria hesitated for a moment, narrowing her eyes in concern as Natasha's sudden change in demeanor irritated her. "Is everything okay?" she asked in a worried voice.

Natasha's mask fell, revealing the turmoil raging within her. "Everything is fine," she replied curtly, her kindness betraying her inner turmoil.

But Maria was not so easily fooled, her instincts honed by years of loyalty and service to Natasha. "You seem distracted," she remarked in a soft yet searching voice. "Do you have something on your mind?"

Natasha bristled at the suggestion, her defenses ramping up to protect her wounded pride. "I don't have time for distractions," she snapped, her voice sounding frustrated. Maria stood firm, unfazed by Natasha's outburst. "With all due respect, Natasha, this is important," she insisted, her gaze unwavering as she met Natasha's eyes. "We must be prepared for whatever comes our way."

Natasha's resolve wavered, her anger melting away in the face of Maria's unwavering loyalty. "I know," she admitted, her voice softening a little. "I...I just have a lot on my mind."

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As she entered the room, Natasha's eyes immediately fell on the ropes and shackles hanging from the ceiling. She felt the familiar stirrings of power and control, her body already humming with anticipation. When she turned to face you, she could see the young woman's wide eyes and slight trepidation mixed with excitement in her gaze.

"Take off your clothes," Natasha instructed. "And then kneel on the floor, hands behind your back."

You obeyed, your heart beating faster as you removed your clothes, revealing your delicate, slender figure. As you assumed the kneeling position, Natasha stepped behind you and gently ran her fingers through your hair.

"Good girl," she purred, feeling a wave of satisfaction as you shivered under her touch. This has been going on for several weeks now. Natasha was desperate and called you. But her being desperate for you is another story.

Natasha walked over to the table laden with ropes, restraints, and other toys. She chose a piece of soft, supple rope and approached you with it. "Arms up," she ordered. "I'm going to tie you up." You obeyed, raising your arms above your head as Natasha began wrapping the rope around your wrists.

The rough texture of the rope brushed against your sensitive skin, sending tingles down your spine. You closed your eyes and let out a soft sigh as Natasha pulled the ropes tight and straightened your arms.

Now that you were securely bound, Natasha walked to the front of the room where an intricate set of leather restraints hung from the ceiling. She attached the restraints to your wrists, pulled you up, and secured you to the ceiling hooks.

Your body was now spread out, vulnerable and exposed to Natasha. Natasha stood before you, taking a moment to admire her work. She ran her fingers over the curve of your chest, tracing a line across your stomach, pausing just above your aching sex.

"You look so fucking beautiful," she murmured, her voice hoarse with excitement. Your breath caught, your body trembled as Natasha slowly began to lunge at you. You could feel the heat of Natasha's breath on your skin, causing goosebumps. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Natasha picked up a whip from the nearby table and gently ran it along your thighs.

The leather strands caressed your skin, burning gently with each smack. You moaned softly, your body's reaction betraying you. You craved more, wanted Natasha to test your limits and bring you to the brink of pleasure and pain.

And as if she could read your mind, Natasha flicked the whip harder, sending a shockwave of pain and pleasure through your body.

"Please..," you begged, your voice tight with desire.

Natasha knew what you wanted, so she’s smacking your breasts and stomach with the whip, leaving a satisfying red mark on your skin. Your moans grew louder, your body arching in pleasure and pain.

Natasha enjoyed the power and control she had over you, her own desire growing with each lash of the whip. She dropped the whip and moved closer to you. She ran her fingers over your wetness, eliciting a sharp gasp from you.

"You like that, don't you?" Natasha teased, pressing her fingers deeper into your core. You nodded and bit your lower lip as Natasha began to stroke your clit in slow, deliberate circles.

Natasha's touch was incredibly skillful, bringing you closer to the edge with each movement of her fingers. "Beg for it," Natasha growled, nipping at your ear with her teeth. "Beg for me to make you come."

"Please," you gasped, your body burning with desire. "Please let me come. I need it. I need you..“ Natasha giggled darkly, continuing her relentless assault on your sensitive flesh.

You writhed and moaned beneath her, your body begging for release. Natasha's own need rose, her arousal unmistakable as she ran her fingers over your clit.

She plunged her fingers deep inside you, feeling your muscles tighten around them as she began to thrust harder and faster. "Oh, fuck, yes.." you gasped, the pressure inside you rising to unbearable levels.

Your hips rose, seeking more friction, more pleasure. Natasha did not disappoint, her fingers moving in a fast and steady rhythm that matched your pace. Your breathing quickened, your heart pounding in your chest. You felt the familiar tingling before the surge of pleasure, the blinding light that was your release.

"Cum for me," Natasha demanded with a low growl. With one final thrust of Natasha's fingers, you break, gasping and moaning as you come violently against her.

Natasha held you there, prolonging the ecstasy as you shuddered and trembled. As you came down from your high, Natasha slowly pulled her fingers from your wetness, bringing them to her own lips and sucking them clean.

"You taste so fucking good," she said, her eyes shining with lust. You couldn't help but blush and squirm as Natasha continued to lick and tease her fingers. "You're so fucking wet and ready for me."

Natasha wrapped her arms around your shoulders, her mouth finding yours in a new wave of passion. You could feel Natasha's hands sliding down your body, grabbing your ass and kneading your flesh.

"I want to feel you i-inside me," you whisper, gasping for air. Natasha didn't need to be asked twice, she was already hungry for your taste. She lifted your legs up and wrapped them around her waist, going deeper into you with each thrust. The room was filled with the sounds of their skin slapping against each other, their moans and groans of pleasure, punctuated by the occasional curse word. It was raw and primal, and both of you reveled in it.

Your body trembled beneath Natasha's as you gave yourself over to the experience. You could feel every inch of Natasha's fake cock inside you, filling you and stretching you to the edge of pain. But you wanted more. You wanted to feel everything Natasha had to offer.

"Beg me to thrust harder," she gasps, your fingers digging into Natasha's back. "Please...fuck me harder...!"

Natasha's fingers dug into your hips, holding you tight as she thrust into you with an intensity that took both of your breath away. "Yebat (fuck), you feel so good," Natasha murmured, her breath warm against your neck.

Your nails dug into Natasha's back, leaving red welts. You were lost in the haze of pleasure, her mind blank except for the rush of sensations coursing through your body.

Natasha's thrusts became wilder and her breath came in ragged gasps. Your own orgasm was already building inside you, each pounding thrust pulling you closer to the edge.

"Fuck, I'm coming," Natasha growled, her clit rubbing against yours with each movement. Your response was only a soft whimper, your muscles tightening around Natasha as the first wave of your orgasm washed over you.

Natasha's thrusts became more erratic, her body stiffening as she followed you over the edge."Oh, fuck!" Natasha gasped, her fingers digging into your hips. "Yes, yes, yes!"

Your orgasm continued to rip through you, leaving you shaking and gasping. Natasha's body fell against of yours, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she gasped for air.

Slowly, Natasha pulled out of your body, freeing you from your bonds. She’s bringing you over to her bed, your legs trembled, still caught in the aftershocks of your orgasm. Natasha wrapped her arms around your waist, holding you close and kissing you deeply.

"You were incredible," Natasha murmured, tracing patterns on your stomach with her fingers. You smiled exhaustedly, your heart still racing. "That was... incredible."

Your vision blurred, every muscle in your body frozen in a wonderfully wild tableau. Natasha pulled you close, their sweat-soaked bodies entwined as they fought to catch their breath. Their mutual satisfaction hung thick and heavy in the air.

Your breaths mingled as you stared at each other, eyes glazed with contented exhaustion. Your heavy breaths formed a synchronized rhythm as you embraced in the dim light, skin flushed and chest heaving. Exhausted and exhilarated, you lay in her arms, still and calm, letting the lulling drum of their synchronized heartbeats sing you to sleep.

As the fog of post-orgasmic pleasure dissipated, tenderness stirred within Natasha, wrapping her heart in an unfamiliar warmth. It was a feeling that reached beyond the boundaries of physical pleasure and crept behind the heavy curtains that normally concealed her feelings.

In those fleeting moments, she wanted nothing more than to surrender to the dreamy cloud of affection that swirled around her. Yet she resisted, clinging grimly to the remnants of her past.

Natasha could barely comprehend the confusing feelings that left her speechless. She had always believed that she was incapable of such vulnerability. You shifted your weight and pressed your cheek against Natasha's chest. Your eyelids were heavy with the impending sleep.

Despite the inner turmoil, Natasha felt her heart swell at the sight. She put an arm protectively around you and traced lazy patterns on your back. Her fingertips left a fiery trail on the skin beneath.

Natasha's heartbeat lulled you into a peaceful sleep, your dreams carrying you to a land free from the burden of reality. Natasha's defenses dropped and the irresistible lure of exploring deeper emotional terrain seduced her.

It was a foreign path, one she had never allowed herself to tread. And yet here she was, rowing the swaying boat through choppy waters, only partially certain of her destination.

She shifted you gently in her arms, maneuvering you so that they were lying side by side on the plush crimson velvet. The dim lights danced on their entwined bodies as you touched, sweet memories of the forbidden fruit they had just enjoyed.

Their limbs intertwined effortlessly and the wry smiles they shared conveyed a wealth of unspoken intimacy. The room was filled with the soft glow of moonlight, casting a halo around your sleeping form as you lay nestled against Natasha's side.

As Natasha's racing heartbeat gradually slowed to a steady rhythm, she lost herself in the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the rhythmic sound like a soothing lullaby. And in that quiet moment of intimacy, as your warmth seeped into her skin, Natasha felt something stir inside her - a stirring of feelings she had long denied.

With shaking hands, Natasha brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead, her touch gentle and reverent. And as she looked at the sleeping figure beside her, bathed in the soft light of the moon, Natasha felt a wave of longing wash over her - a longing for more than fleeting passion and desire.

In that moment of vulnerability, Natasha's walls crumbled, her defenses laid bare before the only person who had managed to break through her cover.

With a soft exhale, she whispered the words she hadn't dared admit for a long time, not even to herself. "I think I'm falling in love with you," Natasha confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. And as the words hung in the air between them, she knew there was no turning back.

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🏷️ TAGLIST:

@new-Lee-marvel-fan-blog @taliiiaasteria @kipitou @queen2234 @sgm616 @dorabledewdroop @natsxwife @natashaswife4125 @loneliestafterparty @jenniferjareauwife @maggieromanov @doveromanoff

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[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, SMUT (literally pure FILTH), Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Degradation Kink, Humiliation, DubCon(?), Fingering, Multiple Orgasm, Overstimulation, Corruption Kink, Subspace, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, Sadism, Semi Public Sex, PIV, Choking, Gagging.

****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

As the class finally drew to a close, the air filtered with an unspoken tension that shadowed over the room like a heavy fog--enveloping you and Mattheo in a world of charged silences and lingering desires. The classroom, once filled with the droning voice of Professor Snape, now echoed with the shuffling of papers and the distant sounds of students in the hallway.

Your hands moved almost mechanically, still trembling with the aftermath of your release as you briskly packed your bag--but each accidental brush against Mattheo sent a jolt of electricity through your skin, igniting a fire within you that refused to be tamed.

When you glanced over, his eyes locked onto yours, their depths a tumultuous storm of lingering, intoxicating lust that sent a thrill down your spine. The way he had treated you during this class felt like mere restraint, a mere fraction of what lay beneath the surface. Anticipating the upcoming encounter in the bathroom, you couldn't fathom the depths of desire he was capable of unleashing, and you'd honestly never been more fucking excited in your life.

Abruptly, the hypnotic trance Mattheo had ensnared you in shattered, as a familiar voice called out your name. Looking up, you found none other than Tom Riddle standing in front of your desk--his eyes, a mirror image of Mattheo's stormy gaze, flicked between you and his brother, a subtle tension creasing his brow.

"I heard what happened with Berkshire," his voice was gentle, yet laden with concern. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm glad you weren't hurt."

Your cheeks burned, nerves spreading through you as you could practically feel the frenetic energy coming from Mattheo multiplying by the second. Though you couldn't see his face, you could vividly imagine the clenching of his jaw, the intensity of his gaze, and the way his fingers must be tightening into fists, gripping his bag with a white-knuckled intensity. Ignoring the persistent heat between your thighs, you forced yourself to straighten up, your posture a facade of composure.

"Thank you," you said, your voice laced with genuine thankfulness, your eyes meeting Tom's with a blend of appreciation and depth. "I appreciate your concern...luckily Mattheo was there to help."

The simplicity of your words belied the complexity of the emotions swirling within you--a mix of gratitude, desire, and a strange kind of loyalty that bound you to Mattheo in ways you couldn't fully comprehend. Before Tom could get the chance to reply, Mattheo's arrogant sneer broke through the tension, his voice dripping with condescension as he mocked his brother.

"Quite the knight in shining armor, isn't he?" he scoffed, his eyes narrowing with disdain as he turned his gaze from you, back to his brother. "Inviting you to the party, only to disappear when things got tough...guess it was only a matter of time before you showed your true colours."

Tom shifted uncomfortably under Mattheo's piercing gaze, a mixture of shame and resentment flickering in his eyes. The tension in the room grew taut, a silent battle of wills unfolding before you, with you being caught directly in the middle of it. Tom cleared his throat, his eyes flickering with uncertainty before he composed himself, a veneer of calm settling over him.

"Well, you know how it is," he said, his voice steady but lacking conviction as he stared at his brother. "Parties can be rather...unpredictable."

His words hung in the air, an attempt to diffuse the tension, but the strain in his voice revealed the truth behind his carefully crafted facade. In an attempt to escape Mattheo's merciless gaze, he turned back to you, attempting a weak smile, though it failed to reach his eyes.

"I do apologize again," he said, attempting to muster up as much sincerity as possible. "I'd like to make it up to you. Perhaps we should cancel our meeting tomorrow? You could probably use the rest."

You nodded, grateful for Tom's consideration despite the lingering tension in the room. "Yes, that would be appreciated," you replied meekly, mustering a small smile. "Thank you."

"It's the least I can do, little witch." Tom managed another weak smile in return, his eyes reflecting a mix of regret and understanding. "Take care. I'll see you Thursday."

As Tom made his exit, Mattheo shot his brother one final, dark glance--his eyes filled with a silent yet unmissable warning, one you knew only you would catch. Then, without a word, he too spun around on his heel and left the room, his departure swift and purposeful, leaving a trail of palpable intensity in his wake.

With a cautious pace, you trailed after him, allowing the tide of students to swallow his figure in the chaotic shuffle. Navigating the bustling corridor, you granted him distance, a deliberate move to give him space, hoping the interim might quell the storm brewing within him. Yet, an unsettling intuition gnawed at you, suggesting it might only intensify his brooding anger.

Upon ascending to the third floor, you took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling a sharp breath to steady your racing heart. As you gently pushed open the bathroom door, there he stood--Mattheo, his posture rigid, leaning against the sink with an air of restrained aggression. His eyes, sharp as flint, bored into yours, the confined space practically crackling with the weight of unspoken tension.

"Close the door." His voice was harsh, cold, firm. "Lock it."

Mattheo's command sliced through the air, his voice an icy whip that lashed at your nerves, compelling you to obey. Swallowing hard, your pulse echoing in your ears, you eased the door shut with trembling hands, the soft click of the lock amplifying the palpable tension in the confined space.

Mattheo watched you--his eyes, sharp and unyielding, drilled into your soul as he shed his uniform jacket, the fabric sliding off his shoulders with calculated grace. It landed on the counter beside the sink, forgotten in the intensity of the moment as he then methodically began rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, revealing the sinewy strength of his forearms. Every movement he made was deliberate, a display of control that left you breathless

"Good girl," he stated, devoid of any warmth, his words falling like cold steel. "Drop your bag and come here."

A hard lump formed in your throat, forcing down a gulp that felt like swallowing shards of glass. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, its rhythm echoing in your ears like a relentless bass drum, each beat threatening to shatter the fragile structure of your sternum. Fingers entirely unsteady, you allowed your bag to slide off your shoulder, hitting the ground with a muffled thud, its impact barely audible over the cacophony of your racing pulse.

And then, taking deliberate, slow steps, you began to move toward him, your cautious approach mirroring the delicate balance of a predator stalking its prey--but in this moment, you weren't entirely sure who was supposed to be the prey. You, or Mattheo.

Coming to a halt in front of him, you felt the intensity of his stare searing into your skin. His eyes, dark and magnetic, darted to your lips, a hunger burning in their depths. The palpable energy surrounding him was a living, breathing entity, wrapping around you both like a tightly coiled thread, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

"Hands behind your back," he commanded, his gaze lingering on your lips with a predatory intensity.

Obeying him, you slowly moved your hands to your back, your lungs quivering with anticipation. His eyes flickered down to your chest, a subtle challenge in his gaze.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice a low, velvety growl, the praise sparking heat in your veins. "You're going to let me unbutton your shirt, aren't you?"

His words hung in the air, laced with desire and dominance, demanding your consent without uttering the words explicitly, inspiring your thighs to throb with need. The commanding tone of his voice, coupled with the unspoken request, sent shivers sprinting down your spine. Your fingers trembled behind your back as you nodded, succumbing to his silent demand.

"Can't you talk?" Mattheo's jaw clenched, his eyes smouldering with intensity. "Use your words, Raven."

"Yes," you breathed, your voice a fragile whisper. "I'm going to let you."

He blinked. "Good girl,"

Mattheo emitted a low, appreciative hum, his fingers gliding over the buttons of your uniform shirt with deliberate slowness. Each button yielded to his touch, his eyes fixated on his hands' movements, as if he feared missing a single detail. The cool bathroom air caressed your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and a shiver rippled through you as his fingertips found the last button, fully exposing your bra and chest to his hungry eyes.

His gaze traced every inch of newly exposed flesh as though he were savoring a newfound delicacy, his intensity leaving you breathless in the hushed atmosphere.

"Mm," he murmured, his eyes slithering up to meet yours. "You fuck me up in the best way, you know that, Raven?"

Your heart hammered in your chest, your nails biting into your palms as if anchoring yourself in the moment. "Do I, Mattheo?"

Mattheo stood before you, a coiled spring of restrained energy--the raw power emanating from him made every muscle in his body tense, as if he were holding back a storm. This version of him, this potent mixture of control and desire, was utterly captivating. You had never witnessed him like this before, and the sheer force of his presence, unyielding yet tantalizing, had the power to send every nerve in your body into a full out frenzy, and bring you to the brink of euphoria without even a single touch.

"You make me feel fucking alive," he murmured, his eyes fixated on your lips as if they held the secrets of the universe. "You're the only drug I can't live without."

"Oh...Gods..." your breath caught in your throat, desire and desperation intertwining in a tumultuous dance. Every fiber of your being screamed for him, ached for his touch, your voice leaving your lips in barely a whisper. "Please...kiss me..."

In an instant, Mattheo's lips crashed onto yours with a furious intensity, a maelstrom of pent-up desire and longing. His hands found your hips, pulling you against him with an urgency that left you breathless. They roamed over your back, tracing every curve, before ascending to tangle in your hair, holding your head in place with a possessive, commanding grip. The kiss deepened, a wild, passionate exchange that ignited a fire within you, consuming every rational thought.

With a swift, graceful movement, he spun you around, your back meeting the cold, unforgiving surface of the sink counter. The sensation made you shudder against his body, amplifying the electrifying connection between you as he tightened his grip in your hair. His lips molded to yours, the world outside fading into oblivion as you surrendered to the storm of sensations, lost in the overwhelming fervor of his kiss.

"Fuck...you're such a good girl for me..." he pulled back, lips falling to attack your neck. "You'd do anything I fucking said, wouldn't you?"

A gasp escaped your lips as he sank his teeth into your skin, eliciting a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that shot through your senses like lightning. Your fingers instinctively tangled in his disheveled curls, holding onto him as if he were your lifeline, your body still trembling from the aftermath of the classroom encounter.

Words eluded you, your mind clouded with desire and need. "I...I-fuck..."

"Mm," he breathed against your skin, his tongue tracing a slow, tantalizing path up the side of your throat. "You're still sensitive, aren't you, pretty girl..."

"Yes," you gasped, your breath hitching in your throat, desire pooling in the depths of your stomach. His hands found your waist, fingers gripping your skirt tightly, pulling it higher up your hips, setting your senses ablaze. "Gods..."

Mattheo groaned against your skin, his hot breath tickling your ear. With a skillful movement, he shifted one hand, his fingers teasing your heat through the damp fabric of your panties. Your back arched as pleasure washed over you, your body reacting to his touch with unbridled hunger. Pressed against the counter, you squirmed and gasped, utterly consumed by the electrifying intensity of his embrace.

"Shit...still nice and fucking wet for me...you love when I'm in control, don't you?" He snickered, breath washing warm over your ear. "That's why you act like a little fucking brat around me all the time...you want me to put you in your place...you want me to do the most unholiest shit to you imaginable..."

A low, unrestrained groan escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the confined space, surprising even yourself. Your head fell back, offering him better access, as his mouth fervently marked your skin, leaving a trail of purple possessive bruises above your collarbone. Your fingers tightened their hold on his hair, grasping it aggressively as if you could pull your release from his scalp, his assault on your sensitive clit becoming relentless.

"Fuck-yes, Mattheo..." you whined, squirming against his hand, voice torn with pleasure. "I-I love it..."

"Yeah, that's right..." he sneered, his arrogance breaking through his hardened facade. "You want me to use you however I want, whenever I fucking want, don't you..."

His voice turned harsh, a husky growl escaping his lips as his fingers abruptly pulled back, yanking your panties aside before returning to swirl your clit with a relentless rhythm. A cry tore from your throat, louder than you intended, and Mattheo responded with a primal growl--his free hand moving swiftly, clamping over your mouth, muffling your sounds of pleasure as he claimed a new expanse of skin on the other side of your neck with his teeth.

"The things you fucking do to me, Raven..." he growled against your neck, fingers dipping down to your core, slipping inside you without warning. "I wanted to bend you over that desk so fucking bad...make you cum on my cock in front of that whole fucking class..."

Your lids fluttered as his thumb grazed your clit, two fingers slowly pumping in and out of you. "You're such a good little malleable slut I bet you'd have fucking let me, wouldn't you, princess?"

You attempted to nod against his hand, pathetic desperation fueling your insane compliance. It was entirely clear to you that in this moment, you were willing to say anything, do anything, just to coax release from him. Your craving was insatiable, a hunger that consumed you entirely. You needed him, every part of him, everything he was willing to offer, and you were more than prepared to fucking beg for it.

"That's what I fucking thought..." he purred, nipping your earlobe. "You're my desperate little whore, desperate to fucking please me, aren't you?"

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as he spoke, the arousal pooling between your thighs growing even more intense with each syllable. Part of you wanted to deny it, to protest and tell him that you weren't his whore, just to see how much further you could push him, but the words caught in your throat and seemingly dissipated into thin air as he pumped his fingers deeper into you, sending another tidal wave of pleasure through your body--and in response, your forced yourself to nod against his palm.

"Yeah, that's right..." his voice was a growl, his movements becoming more relentless. "Such a bratty little mouth, but when it comes down to it, you have nothing to fucking say..." you whimpered, legs trembling, threatening to give out from under you. "Just because this pussy holds power over me, doesn't mean for a damn second you can tease me like that...I will take you anywhere I want...I will fuck you so hard the people in Hogsmeade will hear your screams..."

He lowered his lips back to your neck, kissing and biting at the sensitive skin there as his fingers continued to work their magic. Gasping, you nodded again, completely melting at his words, the pleasure becoming too intense, too all-consuming as it threatened to overpower you entirely.

Mattheo's palm released your mouth, his fingers diving into your hair, tugging gently as he smothered your lips with his. A gasp escaped you, lost in the fervor of his kiss, your attempts to pull away to catch your breath immediately met with his unyielding force. His mouth moved against yours with a hunger that bordered on ravenous, as if he could devour you whole. Just when you felt your entire being coiling, ready to unravel in the throes of climax, he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours.

"You want to cum for me, princess?" He murmured, tightening his grip in your hair. "Third times a charm, isn't it, baby..."

"Yes. Please-" you squealed, voice torn. "Please!"

"Good girl--so fucking good," he growled, his voice deep and rough with desire. "Cum for me, angel."

The nickname sent a thrill of excitement and warmth rushing through you, your body shaking with pleasure as you felt yourself teetering closer and closer to the edge. With one final thrust of his fingers, Mattheo pushed you over the edge, sending you into the waves of orgasm for the third time today. You let out a gasp that you couldn't hold back, and he quickly covered your mouth with his own--your body shaking with pleasure as waves of ecstasy coursed through every inch of you.

Finally, after what you were certain had to have been an eternity, the waves ebbed away, leaving you feeling breathless and overly sated. Mattheo withdrew his fingers from your throbbing core, a satisfied smile playing across his lips as he met your eyes.

"There's my obedient girl," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before bringing his fingers up to your lips, forcing them past your teeth. "Taste yourself off of me...tell me how fucking good you taste..."

Under the heat of his praise, you were entirely unable to resist--taking his command without protests, obediently sucking on his fingers, tasting your own slick arousal off his skin. You moaned around them, holding his burning stare, the taste sending a fresh wave of need through you.

"You like that?" He purred, his tone an exasperated drawl. "You like tasting what I fucking do to you?"

You nodded, whining in response as he pushed his fingers deeper, forcing a gag before he huffed, ripping them from your mouth without warning. Before you could even think to say or do anything further, his grip on your hair tightened, pulling you forward. You gasped as he spun you around, pressing your front against the hard surface of the counter, and you shivered as you watched his hand wrap around your throat in the reflection in front of you.

"You see that little slut in the mirror?" he hissed, his breath hot against your ear. "She belongs to me."

You groaned, feeling his hand leave your hair before sliding down your back to cup your ass, flipping up your skirt as he pressed his throbbing erection against you, shoving your hips firm into the counter with enough force to make you yelp.

"I think you forgot who holds the power over your fucking goals...yet again," he groaned, tightening his hold on your throat, jerking his insistent erection against your ass. "You want that mentorship, then you're going to have to start watching that dirty little mouth around me more often princess...understand me?"

"Yes," you gasped, the feeling of his hardness pressing against you making your entire body quiver. You hissed the words out through the hold on your neck. "I fucking understand."

"Mm. Yeah you fucking do." He groaned, teeth nipping at your ear. You moaned softly in response, grinding your hips back against him. "Filthy girl. You're going to watch me fuck you."

It was then that Mattheo released your throat, his hand slithering back to hold a firm grip on your hair. With that, he used it to pull your head up and back against his chest, so that you were looking at yourself in the mirror above the sink. After a brief moment of manoeuvring, Mattheo had undone his belt and freed himself--his thick, smooth length pressing against your ass as he seethed in relief, before he reached down and slid his fingers along your slick folds, making you watch as he teased your dripping entrance.

"I wanted to throat fuck you until you begged me for mercy but I genuinely can't fucking wait anymore...I need to get inside this tight little cunt..." you mewled, watching your own desire on display as he circled around your entrance before thrusting two fingers inside you. "I've made you cum three times, Raven...this fuck is for my pleasure, not yours...understand?"

You moaned, nodding your head, feeling the orgasm rise within you as Mattheo pumped his fingers in and out of you with an experienced hand, his grip on your hair tightening.

Noting his dissatisfaction with your lack of words, you quickly gathered yourself and answered. "Yes, Mattheo...I understand..."

As your muscles clenched around his fingers, Mattheo pulled out abruptly, slapping your ass with a hard, firm smack--leaving your cheek stinging in its wake.

"Good girl," he said, positioning himself at your entrance now, teasing you with a few slow, sensual thrusts along your slick slit. "You're mine to use, to play with, to fuck. Say it."

"I'm-fuck!" Your words were cut short as he pushed inside you, splitting you wide with one long, harsh stroke--slamming deep, smacking your cervix with ease. "Shit-"

"Oh, fuck..." he hissed, his lips pressed against your ear. "You're so fucking tight, Raven...fuck, it's like you were made for my fucking cock..."

"Oh..." your sight blurred as you felt every single delicious inch of him inside you, felt him so fucking deep into your stomach that you were certain he'd split you in half if he kept going. "Mattheo-fuck-oh..."

"Say it or I'll fuck you so hard every breath you take tomorrow will remind you of my cock." You could see the pleasure etched on his face as he felt you clench around him, and you knew that he was enjoying this, enjoying every fucking second of it. "Go on, little whore...you can do it..."

"Ah-shit...I'm-" your words were cut short yet again as his hips started to piston in and out of you, hard and fast. He took you with almost ruthless precision--each thrust felt like it was calculated both for his pleasure and to test your endurance. You dug your nails into the countertop, clinging on for dear life as he moved inside of you without mercy. "Gods! Fuck-I'm yours! I'm-oh!-yours...please-"

At your plea, Mattheo huffed, jerking your head back and holding your eyes to his in the mirror as his free hand slipped up your front, finding your jaw and holding it firm in place. You could feel his hips slamming against your ass, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge of losing your sanity, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing through the empty bathroom.

"You're okay...just breathe, Raven," he cooed, releasing his hold on your jaw and moving to your lips, shoving two thick fingers past your teeth. "You can take me...you can take it all, can't you?"

You whimpered in response, feeling tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as he reached for the back of your throat, forcing a gag, his hand in your hair relenting only for a moment before sneaking down and clasping around your neck--holding you firm to his chest as he fucked deep inside your heat. Every inch of your being was focused on the raw, animalistic sensations that ricocheted through your body under his power--his cock spearing you open, splitting you wide with every single thrust.

"Yeah, you can..." he purred, his breath hot against your ear. "That tight little pussy can take this fucking cock..."

Your body trembled with pleasure as Mattheo's low, gravelly voice rumbled through you, his words only serving to increase the intensity of your sensations, emboldening you to take everything he had to offer and then some. With a growl, Mattheo's hand around your throat slowly loosened, gliding down the front of your body until he'd found your clit and began to rub tight, fevered circles against it. You cried out in pleasure, the sound muffled by his fingers still planted firmly in your mouth.

"That's it," he groaned, his lips pressed hotly against your ear as his hips continued to slam against you. "Watch yourself in the mirror, Raven...watch how this perfect little body breaks for me..."

In a desperate haze of pleasure, you met his gaze in the mirror, watching the way your body writhed under his demanding touch. The fire in your belly smoldered, stoked higher by the relentless pounding of Mattheo's cock. You groaned against his fingers, drool spilling from your lips and dribbling down your chin. You were so close, so unbelievably close to teetering over the edge for the fourth fucking time in one day, you couldn't even begin to comprehend it--your mind felt like it was about to melt into a mere puddle at your feet.

"There we go," he cooed, sensing your incoming climax, his fingers quickening their pace. "Watch yourself cum like a whore on my cock. You love this, don't you? You love being fucked like the dirty little slut you are."

His eyes roamed over you possessively, and you knew that he was taking in every detail, committing this moment to memory. His movements grew rougher, more insistent, as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel your muscles tightening, and you let out a strangled moan as you finally broke for him, for the fourth fucking time. Your pussy spasmed around his cock as you came hard, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm.

"Shit-" Mattheo huffed, his own eyes fluttering shut as your pussy milked his cock. "You squeeze me so fucking good when you cum-fuck..."

You knew that he was close now, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pounded into you with all his strength, rubbing you through the aftershocks of your orgasm until he pulled his hand away, both hands shifting to your hips, gripping you with enough force to bruise.

"Fuck-I'm gonna fill you up, baby..." you felt him twitching inside you, you felt his cock practically begging to cum. "Tell me you want my cum, Raven...beg me to cum inside this tight little pussy..."

"Please-" you squeaked, his thrusts turning erratic, his breath sputtering against your neck. "I want your cum, Mattheo! Please!"

"Shit...fuck-" finally, he let out a feral growl, his hands tightening around your hips as he thrust into you one last time before he stalled, his nails digging into your flesh with so much force you nearly winced.

You felt him twitching inside you, felt his cum pouring inside your heat as he came hard, his orgasm almost overwhelming you with its intensity. Gasping for breath, you leaned heavily against the counter, feeling completely spent, and Mattheo's arms slowly left your hips, slithering around your waist, holding you against his chest as he pressed a few small, sporadic kisses to the back of your neck.

After he'd finally come down from his high, and the both of your pulses had somewhat slowed, Mattheo pulled out, quickly moving to tuck himself away while you began piecing yourself back together. After a few silent moments, you felt composed enough to break it.

"Remember when you said you didn't want to take my virginity?..." you said, a sly smile playing on your lips, though you attempted to conceal it. "What a pretty little lie that was."

Mattheo stole a stoic glance at you, his emotions carefully veiled, as he ran a hand through his tousled hair, trying to untangle the sweat-drenched strands from his forehead. With a deliberate yet seemingly effortless motion, he reached for his jacket, the fabric clinging to his form in the heat, his jaw clenched in an attempt to suppress the grin that threatened to break free.

"That wasn't a lie, Raven." He said, his voice carrying a hint of sincerity beneath the playful banter.

Your eyebrow quirked up in curiosity. "Oh, is that so?"

"I didn't just want it," he confessed, his tone steady yet laced with unspoken emotions, as he meticulously donned his jacket, the fabric rustling softly. Moving closer, he closed the gap between you, his hand tenderly cupping your jaw, tilting your head back to meet his eyes. "I fucking needed it."

Your breath hitched, need screaming in your lungs with every inhale. Four orgasms in and somehow he still found a way to make your fucking thighs scream for more. "You're unbelievably insatiable, Mattheo Riddle..."

"Yeah, but so are you, princess..." he purred, leaning down closer, brushing his lips against yours. "I always knew you'd give it to me, it was just a matter of when...I'd have waited forever just to fuck you like this..."

You huffed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Your arrogance is insufferable."

"Am I wrong, though?" He murmured, a sly smirk playing on his lips as he brushed them teasingly against yours. "Godric knows I need to ruin that tight little cunt of yours...but he also knows I'm the only one you'd ever let do any of this to you..."

"Mm, you caught me..." you whispered, your lips meeting his in a fleeting, feather-light kiss. "Will you take that mentorship for me?"

"Perhaps I will," he replied, his fingers leaving your jaw and slipping into your hair, his touch both gentle and possessive. "But I suggest you refrain from pissing me off like that ever again...don't think it'd look too good on you if you wrote 'Mr. Riddle got mad and fucked me into the sink like the dumb little whore that I am' on the detailed log, now would it?"

You scoffed, your playful snarl hanging in the air, a testament to your exasperation, yet beneath it, a thread of amusement danced in your eyes, unable to be suppressed.

"You're truly something else," you murmured, your voice a blend of vexation and reluctant admiration. "I will figure you out, Mr. Riddle."

With that, he relinquished his grip on you, his eyes gleaming with a challenge. "Not before I figure you out, first."

————————————

Chapter 21->

#mattheoriddle #mattheo riddle #mattheosmut #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheoriddlesmut #theo riddle #theoriddlesmut #theodorenottsmut #theo nott x reader #theo nott smut #tomriddlesmut #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle smut #tom riddle #draco malfoy smut #draco smut #riddle smut #draco malfoy #theodore smut #severus snape #theodore nott #marcus lopez smut #marcuslopez #benjamin wadsworth

[junggunz]

do not disturb | 🔞

cw: fem bodied reader | smut | pwp | choking+creampie w/ vinny | make up sex w/ jay | morning sex + multiple creampies w/ joker | fwb w/ wooin | all characters featured are 18+ wc: 2k total. each character ~500 words. an: someone asked me about joker sooo naturally this shot up to the top of my priority list hehehe

──★ ˙ ̟ VINNY

Chest pressed against your back while his thighs straddled your waist, keeping you firmly in place, the leisurely paced thrusts Vinny gives you lets you feel every inch of his cock. Dating and intimacy never occupied much space in his mind prior to meeting you; it was only after the two of you got closer, he realized how touch starved he was. Feeling your skin on his felt like it was enough to send him over the edge sometimes. So inconscient in the realm of pleasure, all of his surroundings cease to exist to him. Not even the loud clattering of his cellphone as it vibrated against the hard surface of your nightstand. 

Vinny’s hand tightly grips your neck as he ruts into you from behind, pulling you back onto his length while he remains draped over your body. Your toes curl from the depths he reaches inside of you, your head falling forward as you bury your face into the pillow to muffle your noises. With the ways your slick walls squeezed around him so tightly, it was obvious to the both of you that your orgasm was just on the horizon.

“Fuck, I wanna cum in you so bad.” Vinny whispers in your ear,  gradually rolling his hips against yours faster while his fingertips press into the side of your throat. The mere sound of his voice has you clenching around him once again, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you. “You want it too, don’t you?” He questions mockingly before his posture straightens, the angle of his thrusts shifting ever so slightly and pressing into your sweet spot. 

“Nng, yes— please—cum inside.” You sibilate, writhing beneath him; torn between wanting him to keep fucking you like that but also knowing that the ball of heat blossoming in the pit of your stomach was ridiculously close to bursting.

It doesn’t take long for Vinny’s pace to dramatically pick up as he feels your walls closing in on him, his hips smacking into the plush flesh of your ass and the sound of skin colliding with skin fills your bedroom. A bunch of garbled nonsense tumbles from your lips as you get closer and closer to your peak until you find yourself falling headfirst into your orgasm. With a few more toe curling and deep thrusts, your sensitive walls feel the warmth of Vinny’s seed spill inside of you.

──★ ˙ ̟JAY

Phone on silent, you had been giving Jay the cold shoulder all day after getting into a petty argument with him. You may have started it but it didn’t change the fact you were upset and wanted to be alone. However, when he shows up at your doorstep with your favorite snacks as a peace offering, you can’t help but let him in. To combat the awkward silence between the two of you, you had opted to put on a movie but of course…the atmosphere would change when an unexpected intimate scene dragged on for way longer than needed in the film. 

Jay has always been someone of little words, so it doesn’t shock you in the least bit when he wastes no time, pulling you in for a heated lip lock that eventually escalates to him hauling you off to your bedroom. The intensity behind each kiss manages to convey the emotions that Jay couldn’t bring himself to put into words for you. That fervent energy seamlessly bleeds into your system, your nerves in a frenzy as his hands glide along your body.   

“I don’t wanna kiss all night.” Jay murmurs softly against your lips when he reluctantly parts from you. Glancing up at him through your lashes, the demure expression on your face is so sweet, he’s almost convinced that you’re too shy to give in to desire but your body says otherwise; pulling him closer. 

Clothes practically fly off, any semblance of restraint being stripped away with each garment that’s carelessly discarded on your bedroom floor. Jay’s cock twitches in his palm as he mounts you, taking in your current disheveled appearance that matches the current state of your sheets. The tip of his length nudges your entrance, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as he finally descends into the warmth of your body; his hands placed on either side of your head. He wants to close his eyes at the pleasurable sensation of your pussy greedily sucking him in, giving him no other option but to push into you. But his eyes are trained on the way your face contorts in the perfect mix of pleasure accented with just the faintest hint of pain. 

The moment your face reads as nothing other than bliss, he knows to start moving. Jay’s pace starts off as steady and even, each thrust becoming deeper with the encouragement of your soft moans. If Jay hadn’t been so intently drinking in the sounds of your satisfaction, he would have missed the way you meekly whispered for him to go harder and faster. Thankful for his own attentiveness, he was more than happy to oblige to your request; his own greed to feel more of you was making it impossible to keep the mild pace.  

“Too much?” Jay asks you between groans, his hips now relentlessly pounding away at you. Quite honestly, he doesn’t want to ease up on you, but with the way your moans had dissolved into just little whimpers and whines, he needed to make sure you were still feeling good.  

“No, please keep going. I’m gonna cum—” You plead breathily, glossy eyes meeting his as your legs wrapped around his waist. 

The way your walls pulse around his length as your climax approaches almost make him blow his load. And hearing the most vulgar words fall from your lips in a honeyed tone has his full balls tightening as they slap against your ass with every harsh thrusts he delivers into you but the notion of being able to feel you cumming around him is just enough to get him to hold back until you finish. 

──★ ˙ ̟JOKER

“Ugh, fuck!” Joker growls into your skin, his teeth latching onto the flesh as he spills his seed inside of your gummy walls; the familiar sound of his phone ringing cutting his post-climax bliss short. This was the second load he had given you since the two of you had woken up late in the afternoon. More than satisfied with the session, you lift your hips off of him, but the moment you do so, his grip on your hips tightens and keeps you in place. 

“Who said I was done?” He questions in a low voice, his breathing slightly uneven as it fans against your clavicle. 

“We’ve been in bed so long— and Wooin is calling.” You mumble, confusion settling in your already muddled mind while you try to recover from the back to back orgasms Joker had coaxed out of you. 

“So? I’m still so fucking hard. We’re not finished.” He tells you, tuning out the sound of his phone ringing and making you very aware of his cock throbbing against the walls of your sensitive pussy. 

A small yelp of surprise falls from you when Joker tosses you on to your back, looming over you hungrily as he kneels between your spread thighs. With the ironclad grip he has on your hips, he easily lifts them off the bed, your weight shifting to rest on your shoulders as he aligns his length with your messy hole right before slipping back inside of you.  Your walls rejoice at the feeling of having him inside you again, unable to contain your elation to have Joker continue to make you feel good. 

From the start, he thrusts into you deep and hard; having no need for build up when the two of you were already so wound up. Erratic thrusts send your sensitivity into overdrive, shaky moans pouring from your throat and mix in with the sound of your bed frame knocking into the wall. Your eyes roll back into your skull as Joker pulls your hips toward him so you could meet each harsh snap of his hips. He presses into your sweet spot just right. As you keep squirming from the constant stimulation, Joker growls in annoyance; his already tight grip on you becoming even more firm. 

“Stop moving around so much or you’re not cumming again.”

──★ ˙ ̟WOOIN

Perhaps you should have known this was coming when you made the conscious decision to ignore Wooin’s calls. But in your defense, your hands were a little busy at the moment and your mind was elsewhere. 

When he shows up to your place to check on you, he’s less than pleased to find you wearing one of his shirts as you lay in bed selfishly pleasuring yourself. The only reason he called you was to see if you were down to fuck; but you had the nerve to blow him off for your fingers? He’s pissed and he makes it known when he stalks toward you, taking advantage of the fact your eyes were closed before moving quickly to yank your fingers out of you then flip you over so you were laying on your stomach. 

“I’ve been trying to call you all day and this is what you’ve been doing?” He scoffs, giving your ass a harsh slap that makes you yelp. “And when did you steal my shirt?”

“I took it as collateral when I found out you’ve been hooking up with whatsherface. You could have just called her.” You groan in annoyance as you look over your shoulder at him with a small scowl.

“Aw, are you jealous, baby?” He coos mockingly as he’s already undressing; his cock already hard from watching the little show you put on. “I thought I told you it doesn’t mean anything getting head from other girls. Your pussy is way too good for me to wanna fuck anyone else.” 

You roll your eyes in annoyance, questioning why you even bother putting up with Wooin but the moment he props you up on all fours and slides inside you, you remember why. The mean, relentless strokes he delivers have your cunt ardently squeezing around him, your mind going blank and your back folding into a deep arch so you could feel as much of his cock as you could. Ass high in the air while your cheek is pressed up against your mattress, you’re practically drooling from all the pleasure you feel. The bruising grip he keeps on your hips doesn’t even register in your mind as painful when he’s fucking you so thoroughly. 

“Aren’t you going to thank me? You know your fingers are nowhere near as good as my dick.” Wooin says from behind you, the smirk on his face so evident in his tone; you didn’t even have to look at him to know he was wearing the most smug expression.

“Shut up.” You respond in a snappy tone, which provokes a small chuckle from Wooin. Sneaking one of his hands between your legs, his fingers spider their way to your clit and rubbing the sensitive bud in circles at the pace he knows you love. You bite back the shrill moan that tickles the back of your throat, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing how good you were feeling. The way your sopping pussy desperately slurped up his length was enough of an admission to how much pleasure he brought you. 

“I’ll shut up after you make me cum.” He tells you in a dallying tone, eyes fixated on the way your ass rippled every time his hips snapped into you. A hum of contentment vibrates in the back of his throat when he notices you pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. Being no stranger to your body and tendencies in the bedroom, Wooin knows he’s got you right where he wants you—dumb, fucked out, and desperate to cum. You could suppress your moans all you wanted, act like you couldn’t stand him, and swear that you were gonna block his number but your pussy creaming all over his dick would always give you away. 

And besides, if you truly didn’t want him to stop by, you would have changed the pin code for your door long ago. 

#windbreaker x reader #windbreaker smut #vinny hong scenarios #vinny hong x reader #vinny hong smut #jay jo x reader #jay jo smut #jay jo scenarios #windbreaker joker #joker smut #joker scenarios #joker x reader #wooin x reader #wooin smut #wooin yu scenarios #junggunz.txt

[starspence]

drunk dial [aaron hotchner x reader drabble]

in which reader butt-dialed hotch on a girls night, leading to him confronting her on her doorstep the night after with a raging problem in his slacks. (cw; just pure filth tbh, praise, piv sex, bau reader, interwork relationships, fem!reader, aftercare) (w.c. - 2.3k)

masterlist ♡

Hotch held a tight ship at the BAU. He was a man known for enforcing every rule, no matter how tedious, with an iron fist; even when he fought the urge to break protocol himself, whether that be on the basis of family or other personal matters.

When he found himself on the doorstep of one of his employees after an unfortunate butt-dial on your end, every ounce of restraint he had left slowly began to leave his body.

"Hotch," You gasped, your eyebrows furrowing and your mouth hanging slightly agape. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," He affirmed, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I... wanted to let you know I got your call last night."

Your face only grew more contorted. "Call?" You echo, confused. After a moment of silence, your face paled, recalling the events of the night prior. "Oh my god. Did I drunk dial you? I'm so sorry. I was out with the girls and-"

"Not exactly," He interrupted. "May I?" He inquires, gesturing to your apartment.

You nod, opening the door fully and allowing him inside. "What... What did I do?" You ask defeated. "If I caused you any trouble I'm so sorry."

Despite his incessant need to console you, to let you know everything was okay and that the reason he was there is, in fact, not because you were in trouble - he enjoyed letting you suffer a little. Perhaps a bit sadistic, but not the worst thing that would happen tonight, he thought.

"You dialed my cell last night," He began, his voice calm as ever, "and I answered. But it didn't appear you knew I was on the other line, or that you called at all for that matter." He continued, tone unwavering.

You stayed silent, face pale and fidgeting with the skin on your nails.

"If I recall, you said you would 'fuck Unit Chief Hotchner senseless,' does that ring a bell?" He teased with a low laugh. "If drunk words are sober thoughts, then I figured I should pay a visit."

You were no longer ridden with anxiety, but a new, more chilling emotion, that sent a wave of heat through your body. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that if the offer still stands, I'm happy to take it."

"Really?"

"Really."

He stood still in place, not moving nor speaking so you can play the cards. If he interpreted the situation wrong, he didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. The last thing he wanted was to lose one of his most prized agents.

So you did what you'd been wanting to do since you first stepped foot in his office just under a year ago.

You took a step forward, grabbing his tie and pulling his face into your own, crashing your lips together in a passionate and hungry kiss. His hands clawed at your waist, smushing your body impossibly closer to his while he grinned wickedly into your mouth.

You wasted no time pulling him to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you while he pushed you against the firm piece of wood, careful not to accidentally ram your back on the doorknob. His lips found yours again, and in a rushed and clumsy manner he began to undo his tie. You shrugged his blazer off for him with a low laugh which he mimicked.

"Eager, are we?" He teased, breathless and panting.

You smiled, your fingers finding the buttons to his dress shirt and fumbling them apart. "How could I not be?" You replied, looking up at him through your lashes. "My boss who I've had an unspeakable crush on just said he wants to fuck me."

He chuckled again, shrugging his shirt off while his own fingers the found the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head and running his hands up your back to unclasp your bra in a practiced fashion.

"You should've told me sooner," He said lowly. "I've been trying to find an excuse, something to justify these wildly inappropriate feelings. And that drunk call..." He trailed off, sliding the bra down your arms and removing it from your chest, exposing your breasts. You shivered.

His lips dove to your neck and you threw your head back against the wall with a high pitched moan. He let his hands wander, moving from your shoulders to your forearms then finally gripping your hips. He took his time and trailed wet, sloppy, hard, kisses down to the top of your breasts, only pulling away to admire the light bruises he left.

"Fuck Hotch," You whispered, biting your lip.

"None of that," He scolded, standing straight again and looking into your eyes with a primal hunger. "Aaron. You're calling me Aaron tonight."

"Aaron," You echoed, the word foreign on your tongue. "I want you, Aaron."

His name on your lips felt like heaven to his ears. He smirked, guiding your body to sit on the end of your bed. He stood in front of you, never breaking eye contact while he worked thoroughly to unbuckle his belt. Something about the silence of the room being broken by the clang of the metal stirred something hot in you.

"Say it again," He demanded, letting his slacks pool at his ankles and stepping out of the fabric. He kneeled down, untying the loop of your sweatpants and tugging at the waistband.

"Please Aaron," you begged, eyebrows furrowing. "Need you. Need you to fuck me." You pleaded again, now lifting your hips so he could slide not just your pants, but your underwear as well, off.

"Atta girl." He praised, discarding your sweats on the floor. You reacted just as he wanted, a small whimper falling from your mouth when his words reached your ear. It didn't take him long to stand back up, pushing you down on your back while he stood between your legs and hovered over you. "You like that, huh?" He teased. "Gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you?"

You were rendered speechless. The stark contrast of the words you heard on a day-to-day basis compared to this... If you didn't know he'd be touching you in minutes you would've already begun to play with your clit. "Y-yes," you stuttered. "Wanna be good. Please."

He palmed himself through his boxers, the first time you'd actually looked at the tent that had formed. He tugged them down, springing out a cock so thick you worried about it fitting inside of your poor body. You audibly gasped, leading him to laugh at your reaction. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you're stretched out first. I'm not that mean."

You smiled up at him, your cheeks hot and your mouth almost watering. He trailed his hands down your body again, taking in the sight before him. "So beautiful," He murmured. "So, so, beautiful." His eyes glanced back up to meet your own. "I could never stop myself from wondering what you were hiding beneath those horribly conservative work clothes," He admitted. "Much better than what my imagination ever conjured up."

"So you've thought about me, then?" You teased, goosebumps covering your body at the image of your boss getting fired up in bed late at night, imagining the same things you had touched yourself to many times before.

"Every night," he replied with a cocky grin. His hand traveled between your legs, letting one of his digits slide through your folds to collect the already pooling wetness that now satiated his fingers. "Already so wet," he commented.

He never broke eye contact as he slipped his middle and ring finger into you, making sure to memorize every contorted feature on your face. They were thick and long, beating some of the men you'd had before in size with his fingers alone. You gasped, eyebrows furrowing as your head hit the back of your bed.

"Eyes on me," he commanded, leaning down to press his chest against yours and propping himself up with his free hand. "Come on, I know you can do it."

You strained your eyes to stay open as you made contact with his, mouth falling agape as he began to move them in and out of you slowly. His wrist made contact with your clit, his arm stilled between the two of you while his hand continued its work diligently. "O-oh my god," you murmured, "Aaron. So good. Feels so good."

He pumped them in and out a few times before scissoring them, prying your walls apart in a way that made you whimper beneath him. "Such pretty noises," he remarked.

You almost came right there, but you knew you had to hold on for him. Still, your hips bucked against him in a needy manner. "Aaron," You gasped, struggling to keep your eyes open. "Please," You sorely begged.

"What is it you need?" He taunted. "Use your words."

You whined. "You," you gasped, "need you inside of me. Need your cock Aaron. Please."

"There we go," He smirked.

He pulled his hand out and stood back straight, letting the fluid drench his fingers and cover himself in a few long pumps. "You sure?" He asked, raising his eyebrows while he continued to touch himself.

"God, yes." You groaned. "Been wanting this for so long. Please."

He lined himself up with your entrance and began to push himself in agonizingly slow. The second the head of his cock made contact with your cervix his head threw back and a loud, guttural, groan escaped his lips. "Fuck," He cursed, continuing his descent. "Shit sweetheart," He mumbled through his teeth.

"Aaron," You moaned. "O-one second," you pleaded, your walls clenching around him instinctively. "Need a second."

His head lowered and he looked at you with concern. "Of course," he replied formally. "Take all the time you need. It'll be better when I start moving though, okay?"

You nodded, gasping. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath before looking back up at him standing over you. His face was flushed red, the muscles in his arms protruding and leaving a heavenly sight for your eyes. His hands wandered to your thighs, holding them open and squeezing the supple flesh beneath his fingers. You smiled, nodding at him, giving the silent 'okay' to move again.

"Doing so well," he praised. "So good for me. Knew you could do it."

He began to pull back, leaving half of himself in before pushing his hips forward to meet the same spot. He groaned, now beginning to pick up a slow yet deep rhythm that made you feel dizzy and hot.

"H-harder," you gasped. "You can go harder. Please." You asked again.

"Don't need to ask me twice," he joked, his hands moving to your waist and gripping tight. He pulled all the way back, snapping his hips forward again and hitting deep inside you. He pushed and pulled with his movements, the sound of skin slapping filling the room mixed with degenerate sounds that are more than unprofessional.

"You feel so good," Aaron gasped. "So fucking good, sweetheart." The constant praise made you clench down on him, a groan eliciting from his throat. "Love when you do that," he began, "drives me crazy. Been driving me crazy since I first saw you."

"G-gonna come Aaron," You warn, moans spilling from your mouth while he continues his relentless pounding.

"Yeah?" He says, "where do you want me, princess?" He groans.

The pet name alone made you whimper, eliciting a smirk from him. "Inside," you say through a moan. "On the pill. Need you inside."

He picks up his pace, slamming impossibly harder into your bruised cunt. He grips you harder, sure to leave hand-shaped bruises tomorrow. "Go on sweetheart," he urges. "Be a good girl, come for me."

That's all it took for you to yell his name, releasing yourself on his cock while he grinds his load into you, slowing his movements and letting you ride out your orgasm. He grunted your name repeatedly, toppling down on top of you so his weight is pressed on your body.

"Oh my god Aaron," you gasped, your eyes half lidded. You bring your hand to his face, running it up to his hair and wiping the sweat off of his forehead. "So good. Felt so good."

He grins, breathing heavily while his cock sits inside of you. "Did so good for me," he whispers, his own hand coming to rest on your cheek. "Such a good girl. So perfect."

You smile at the praise and let your body fall limp. He pulls himself out of you with a groan and you whine at the loss of pressure in your hips. "Need you to go to the bathroom," he says, grabbing your discarded panties and wiping the leftover cum spilling out of you. "Don't want you to get a UTI."

You whine again, sitting up with foggy eyes. "O-okay," you stutter, beginning to bring yourself to your feet but immediately toppling down on the bed again. He's quick to be by your side.

"Careful," he chuckles. "I'll walk you to the bathroom, hold on to me, yeah?"

You nod, gripping his forearm while you lead him there. It's not nearly as awkward as you thought, just intimate and loving. It's clear that tonight was much more than a fling.

When you arrive back in your bed, he slips in beside you and you give him a confused look. "Shouldn't... Shouldn't you go home? Jack," You whisper, your head in and out of consciousness.

"He's on a school trip, I'm not leaving you tonight." He reaffirms with a smile. "C'mere." He wraps an arm around your shoulders while you roll into his side, your face buried in his impossibly perfect chest. "You did so well tonight, honey."

You can't muster a response. Your brain is only occupied with the thought you'll get to sleep next to him tonight, so you hum happily and almost instantly fall asleep in his arms. He presses a tender kiss to your hair, lips lingering for a moment when you go limp in his arms. He smiles, a large and genuine smile, holding you protectively before falling asleep himself with the knowledge he has you to himself after nearly a year of pining.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut

[scarafvcker]

synopsis: scaramouche finds himself in his office, too distracted to do his duties ((i.e. man’s horny as hell and it’s your fault) based off of this drabble))

cws: masturbation, exhibitionism, spanking (only like three times), virginity loss (scara + reader), cunnilingus, fingering, praise, degradation, edging, overstimulation, creampie, chubby!afab!kitsune!reader

word count: 6800+ (it was an accident LMAO)

a/n: thanks for 100 followers guys <3

scaramouche was beyond frustrated, utterly exasperated—exasperated at his exasperation as he glared at the pile of papers laying on his desk. he brought a hand up, running it through his silky indigo locks. he’s mentally chastising himself for getting so caught up in his emotions, even going as far as to let his paperwork pile up on his desk for two weeks straight. the sight of the tall stack of paper makes him curse everything ever, mainly dottore, his segments, and you. he keeps finding his mind consumed with thoughts of you, distracting him from getting work done.

he couldn’t go out and risk bumping into you, opting to stay cooped up in his office under the premise that he’s doing paperwork but nobody knows what he’s doing under the desk. if anyone were to walk in, they’d find him with a light sheen of sweat coating his forehead and the tips of his ears burning a bright red and most would think he’s just fallen ill from the stress of that mountain of papers.

but you’re standing there in the doorway, arms crossed and leaning against the wooden frame with that concerned look on your face that causes his cold, nonexistent heart to melt. and he almost feels bad about how he’s spent everyday thinking about you until his balls are dry, almost feels bad about the way his hand picks up the pace with each word you say, almost feels bad about the way he’s shamelessly pumping his cock while you’re standing there so worried. that caring lilt in your voice nearly draws a deep groan from his throat when you say, “scara, are you alright? you should take a break—let me do some paperwork for you.”

he knows he should send you off, he knows his self-restraint is practically null around you nowadays, he knows that if he were to spend more than three minutes in the same room with you, he’d probably end up begging you to let him fuck you. but he also knows how stubborn you are and before he could even get another word out, you’re shutting the door behind yourself and taking a seat on the opposite side of his desk. god, he’s fucked.

he’s grumbling under his breath and pulling his hand off his dick so he could grab a pen and at least pretend he’s doing work. the room is consumed in a comfortable silence as the two of you start tackling that pile of papers but he still can’t focus. his eyes keep drifting off the paper and up onto you and the way your ear twitches in confusion as you read over the page in front of you. it’s only now that he realizes how soft he is for you. despite being rock hard under the table.

his other hand slides down to stroke himself once again while his eyes are trained onto your face and he has to pry his gaze away from you before you notice it. he watches you in his peripherals, his thumb slowly rubbing at his sensitive tip as he takes in all of your mannerisms from the way your ears twitch when he hisses at how painfully erect he is to the way you bite your lip in concentration. god, your lips. your lips are already making his self-restraint start to slip and it hasn’t even been a minute. you prop your head up onto your fist, pressing your knuckles into your chubby cheek while you purse your lips and start writing.

he flips his paper a few times, pretending to read over it even though his gaze isn’t even on the paper and instead it’s locked onto you while he eye-fucks you. due to the snezhnayan cold, you’re all bundled up but that doesn’t stop the desk from showing off the shape of your boobs when you lean over to look closely at the fine print on the paper. the sight alone is nearly enough to make him cum, having to pull his hand away again to not stain the underside of the table.

“scara?” your voice draws his attention and he shifts his gaze back to your face, “scara, are you sure you’re alright? you’re getting redder by the minute.” you’re wearing that cute little pout that makes him even redder. all of a sudden you stand up and he’s rushing to put his cock back into his shorts while you walk around the table to press the back of your hand against his forehead, “wow, you’re burning up.. i didn’t think puppets could get sick..”

he’s quick to swat your hand away, swirling his chair around to face you properly with a scowl, “i’m fine! can you just go back to working?”

his self-restraint was barely hanging on when you clicked your tongue and grabbed his wrist in an attempt to pull him up but the second your hand wrapped around his wrist, he manages to flip the roles. he snatched his wrist out of your grasp and quickly took hold of you instead, one hand wrapped around your own wrist while his other hand gripped onto your waist. he swears he could hear his self-restraint snap, the sound resonating in his mechanical ears. before either of you could process what’s going on, he’s pulling you into him.

“wh- huh? scara?!” he thought you looked so pretty like this, flustered while you stop yourself from falling onto his lap by resting one knee beside his thighs. he has you towering over him now and he can feel the shallow breathes you take cascading over his face.

he lets out a deep chuckle, his indigo eyes staring up into your own, “it’s all your fault, you know that? you’re the reason i can’t focus.” he guides your hand to rest on his shoulder so he can tightly grip your soft waist with both hands, “if you don’t walk out of my office right now, i’m not sure what’s gonna happen.”

he can practically hear the gears turning in your head through the thick silence before your shocked expression turns into an amused smirk, “my fault? i personally believe it’s dottore’s fault.”

your words cause him to chuckle once more, “of course you knew. what a sly fox you are—pretending you knew nothing while sitting here just to rile me up.” he can see the way your smirk falters for a split second when he manages to push you onto his desk in one swift move, knocking over the stack of papers in the process. you look at the papers as they flutter to the ground and he uses that opportunity to situate himself between your legs, bringing his head down to kiss the soft skin of your neck. he’s keeping his ears open for each and every sound you make to gauge your reaction to his advances, shutting his eyes while he peppers kisses all over the side of your neck.

he’s pressing his throbbing cock against you while his hands slide up and down your body, squishing and grabbing at every piece of fat he can. one hand is grabbing at the fat on the side of your belly while his other hand runs down to massage the outside of your thick thigh. his movements are spurred on by the breathy sounds that you try to hold back and he leaves a little experimental bite on your neck, reveling in the way you let out a shaky gasp and fling your hand up to slide into his hair. he goes back to pressing kisses onto your neck, leaving you wanting more as you buck your hips up to grind against him. he groans against your neck, his words sending vibrations through your body, “fuck, don’t do that.” but you do it again and again until he’s a gasping mess, nearly cumming in his shorts.

“shit, shit-” he hisses, his hands quickly pinning your hips down onto the table as he pulls away from your neck to press his lips onto yours. he takes your lips into a greedy kiss, letting his lips move against yours so perfectly like he was made for you. your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down to press him into yourself and he can feel your soft body against his chest. his hands start to roam again, sliding up the hem of your shirt to feel the warmth of your body and he can feel you shiver at how cold his hands are. he freely grabs at your fat once again, using your body heat to warm up his hands. you’re so soft and warm and it’s making him wonder about how you feel inside.

you pull away from the kiss and he remembers that non-puppet beings have to breathe, a smirk forming on his face when he sees how swollen your lips are. he lets you catch your breath as he attaches himself to your neck again, suctioning his lips onto your skin and leaving tiny red marks onto your neck. you’re grinding your hips against him again and his hands are slowly moving upward, hovering over your ribcage and just under your boobs. he pulls away from your neck again, leaving a few kisses on top of the marks he just left on you.

“you look beautiful like this,” he mumbles before taking a hand out from under your shirt and firmly grabbing your face, his middle finger and thumb pressing into your chubby cheeks. he gently guides your face to the other direction, giving himself access to the unmarked side of your neck before he’s marking that side too. he’s slowly sliding his other hand upward, gliding against the center of your ribcage so sensually and grazing over the middle of your bra just between your boobs. his hand keeps going up and up before stopping at your collarbone and changing direction. his nails are short and smooth over your skin, scratching you ever so lightly as his hand ventures back down your torso.

he knows how his touches cause your body to burn, having spent two weeks fantasizing about you to plan out all the ways he would get you needy for him the way he’s needy for you. it’s working and he can tell by the way your breath hitches, by the way you squirm under him, by the way your hands begin to paw at him, by the way your tail flicks against his leg, by the way you whimper his name.

it’s painful how slow he’s going, painful how much he’s teasing you—for you and him both. but when his hand finally slips under your bra and cups a handful of your soft tits, it’s all worth it. he pulls himself off of your neck with an audible ‘pop!’ before letting go of your jaw and lifting up your shirt. his gaze stays on you as he slowly pushes up the fabric over your chest, eyes darting between the sight of your body and your face. his hands snake around your back and fiddle with your bra, struggling to unhook it before he decided to just pull your bra up too, rolling his eyes when you snicker at his actions.

he immediately attaches himself to your tits, one hand squishing and squeezing at your chest while his lips are wrapped around the other boob and his tongue swirls around your nipple. it’s like he’s lost in the moment, as if nothing else matters when he’s making out with your tit. he can’t help himself—your soft body is just so fun to play with.

your hands are running up and down his shoulders, slipping into his hair again and pulling him even closer to you. he swears he can just cum right then and there—completely untouched, save for your hands in his hair. he has to pull himself away from you again, peppering light kisses in between sucks down the center of your torso and leaving even more marks on your skin. his fingers graze over the fresh hickeys as he slowly lowers himself to his knees in front of you, his lips ticking your skin as he kisses down your belly. he smirks at the shaky little gasp you let out when he nibbles onto your lower belly. he can’t help but admire every single inch of your chubby body, wanting to kiss and bite every single piece of fat he can.

you let out another gasp when his hands roughly part your legs, your half-lidded eyes widening as he looks up at you from between your thighs. you’re so flustered by the way he’s looking at you, eyes darting around the room. he presses a kiss onto your clothed leg, his fingers still snaking over your belly before hooking under the waistband of your pants, “eyes on me, darling.”

such an obedient little thing, you are—looking back at him the second his words left his mouth. his smirk widens and he slowly unzips your pants before pulling them down at an even slower pace. his knuckles graze over your hips, over your thighs, over your knees, over your calves, over your ankles until finally, your pants are completely off and you’re left sitting on his desk with your shirt and bra pushed over your tits and your panties on full display for him. he’s parting your legs again, gently this time while he’s peppering tiny, red hickeys from your knee to your inner thigh. he moves to your clothed heat, his face hovering over it for a second before he’s switching his attention to your other thigh.

“you’re so annoying,” you mumble and watch intently as he sucks and gropes your inner thighs, eyes widening again when he starts licking and biting at the pudgy fat there. you subconsciously flick your tail against his face, suddenly self-conscious but he’s quick to non-verbally reassure you. he gently pushes your tail away and kisses your fat thighs again, putting every ounce of love he has into each kiss until you finally melt and let him suck and nibble your squishy thighs again.

his hands keep massaging your pudgy inner thighs while he kisses up to your knee, leaving hickeys to mirror the ones he left on your other thigh. he’s rushing the last few hickeys, a bit too eager to finally taste you cause he’s suctioning himself onto your clothed cunt. the sight of it alone is embarrassing for both of you but neither of you stop it, letting him tongue at your puffy folds to his nonexistent heart’s content. he’s licking at your clothed pussy, tongue pressing into your hole and flicking it around a few times, dragging it up and down your panties and trying to find that little bundle of nerves he spent days researching about. his fingers are pushing around your puffy folds while his tongue flicks over every spot he could find before he finally finds your clit and you jolt at the touch. your reaction spurs him to do it again and again, focusing all his attention onto that spot until you’re a whining mess.

you’re all breathy and whiny for him with a mantra of his name leaving your lips while his tongue keeps flicking over your clothed clit. god, you taste delicious and he can’t help but imagine how you taste without the barrier of your panties holding him back. he quickly pulls himself away right before you cum, tugging the seat of your panties to the side and blowing some air onto your newly exposed cunt, chuckling at the way you beg for him to lick you again.

he can’t peel his eyes off of your glistening cunt, his thumbs reaching to spread apart your fat pussy lips as he gets distracted by the way your juices shine in the light. he leans in and drags the tip of his tongue from your hole all the way up to your clit, gathering a mouthful of your slick before swallowing it all. god, you taste divine and he can’t help but flick his tongue inside of your hole a few times to taste as much of you as he can.

he slips his tongue as deep as it can go, his thumb reaching up to slowly and gently rub circles onto your clit while his tongue thrashes around inside of you. he’s greedily drinking up all of your slick, his tongue plunging in and out, up and down, left and right. the difference between his tongue and his thumb is mind numbing and he revels in the way you can do nothing but sit there with your hands in his hair, pulling him deeper into you while you grind your hips upward to meet his tongue.

the sound of his tongue dipping in and out of your cunt fills his office, harmonizing with your broken whines and whimpers to coat the room in a sultry atmosphere. neither of you know how thin the walls are but neither of you care either—not when he’s greedily fucking his tongue into your sloppy hole like theres no tomorrow, not when his hands are kneading at your pudgy thighs as they clamp down onto the sides of his head, not when he keeps lapping up all of your juices and thumbing at your overly sensitive clit, not when the pleasure is too much and you’re pushing his head away from your twitching pussy.

he pulls his face away from your cunt but a smirk is plastered onto his lips and you’re not sure why until the tip of his middle finger is sliding up and down your slit, gathering your slick before pressing into your hole a tiny bit and pulling right back out. his finger pressed only a couple centimeters in but he already has your hole twitching around nothing, silently begging to be filled. his smirk grows even wider when he hears your quiet voice say, “scara.. put your finger inside, please..”

“well, when you’re begging like that..” he chuckles and hovers his middle finger just outside your entrance, “..i have to listen to you.” he slowly slides his finger inside, pushing in inch by inch and letting your walls get accustomed to the intrusion. his eyes widen slightly, a bit surprised at how you feel—so warm and wet, so soft and tight, “darling, you’re squeezing my finger so tightly. have you never been stretched out before?”

you shake your head, letting your walls tense up one last time before relaxing completely, “no, it’s easier for me to just.. rub, y’know?” his eyebrows fly upward at the realization of your virginity before he gives you a soft nod, a mutual understanding that the two of you are willing to give each other your first times. he hums before turning his hand to face his palm toward the ceiling, running the tip of his finger against your walls and getting a good feel of your insides.

you keep a smile on your face as he uses his finger to rub at your ridged walls, your expression remains unchanging as his finger surges deeper and deeper up until he grazes against that squishy spot deep inside you. you let out a deep gasp, the smile you wore contorting into a silent moan as pleasure surges through you. he keeps prodding at that spot, sending heat to cascade over your body. he leans forward again, kissing your clit as he mumbles, “you like that, darling? feels like you do.”

the only sounds you could let out where whimpers and pleas of “there! right there! please!” it was music to his ears and he needed to hear more. his finger kept hitting that spot over and over again causing you to get even wetter, using your juices to lube up his ring finger before he slides it in too. you’re a moaning mess, plopping your back onto his desk while your pussy creams and twitches around his fingers. the sounds of his fingers prodding at that spot nonstop is absolutely obscene, causing a hot sensation of embarrassment to cascade over your already hot body. he presses another kiss to your clit that has your back arching off of his desk, urging him to flick his tongue over it a few times.

back arched, legs shaking, tail and ears twitching, hips rocking, toes curling. your hands are pawing at every surface you could reach—gripping the edge of the desk, pulling at his hair, slapping over your mouth.

he’s greedily eating up all of your sounds and movements, relishing in every ounce of pleasure he’s able to pull from you with just his fingers and his tongue. making out with your clit, his lips and tongue are all over that sensitive nub while his index finger is rubbing itself all over your wet skin. now he’s got three fingers curling in you, his hand moving back and forth all while the tips of his fingers keep hitting that squishy part deep inside of you. you’re drowning his fingers in your juices at this point and he’s too busy making out with your clit to lick it all off his fingers. much to his disappointment.

his office is full of the sound of your whining and panting, aided by the lewd squelching of your cunt being stretched out by his fingers. you’re body is covered in sweat, the cold air of snezhnaya forgotten and overwhelmed by the mass amount of heat the pleasure was giving you. a mantra of his name leave your mouth while your hole twitches around his fingers, the heat in your body increasing with each time he presses into that spot until the knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re falling apart on his desk, succumbing to your own orgasm as your whole body shakes.

he doesn’t stop his movements for a while, too drunk on your pleasure to pull away. it’s not until you’re weakly pushing his head away from your cunt that he pulls his fingers out of your twitching hole, immediately popping them into his mouth and licking up all of your juices. the way he doesn’t look away from you while he darts his tongue up and down every stream as it falls down his hand, drinking every single drop, causes embarrassment to fill you again.

you’re about to protest his actions, your mouth opening only for your words to be cut off by a broken gasp when his head dives back in between your thighs. he’s sliding his tongue over every piece of wet skin he could find, his hands kneading at your pudgy thighs and pushing them apart so he could greedily feast on your cunt once more like a man starved. his tongue is sliding all over your wetness, running over before pushing into your puffy folds all while he’s letting out his own groans of satisfaction.

it’s like he’s getting off on just eating you out, like feasting on your cunt is the only thing he wants to do for the rest of his immortal life. you’re still pushing his head away, mewling, “nooo.. ‘s too much, scara!”

he only responds with a gruff hum, his tongue still plunging into your hole. his eyes are staring into yours, watching as your pretty little pained expression morphs into one of pleasure again before he’s pushing your thighs even further. he manhandles you further up the desk, giving himself room to sit back into his chair while he keeps drinking your juices.

it’s like he’s got a whole meal on his desk, one that he has no intention of wasting—making sure to devour every last drop. your hands are gripping on the edge of the desk, hanging on while your head dangles off the other side. your tail is rapidly wagging now, a telltale sign of how overwhelmed you are yet despite your overstimulation, you’re making no longer trying to push him away. your body’s still sensitive from your previous two orgasms and it’s not long until you’re cumming again, whole body shaking while you push his head away once again.

he reluctantly pulls away, his eyes glued onto the sight of your glistening cunt that seems to be calling him. he has to restrain himself, prying his eyes off of your body and guiding them to your face. “so pretty,” he mutters, standing up and pushing his chair away. he’s standing between your legs again, his hands gently caressing your shaking thighs. he watches as you slowly sit up on his desk, ears and tail still twitching ever so slightly as the rest of your body calms down. “you’re beyond pretty,” he spoke in a gruff voice while his hands move to gently cup your face, resting his forehead against yours. you swore you could see the faintest smile twitching onto his lips for a second before he pressed his lips to yours.

the kiss was soft and sweet and you weren’t sure if it was just because of the taste of your juice’s lingering on his lips. one hand snakes into your hair while the other stayed on your face, thumb caressing your soft cheek while his lips dance with yours. without his mind being clouded by the taste of your cunt, he could feel how painfully hard he was. he pressed his aching cock against you, only separated by his shorts and underwear. he broke the kiss, hissing as his cock throbbed under his clothes, “darling, please.. can i fuck you? please let me fuck you.”

even through his clothes, he could feel the way your hole twitches around nothing at his words. a smirk etches itself onto his lips again as he grinds his clothed cock against you, letting your juices soak into the fabric of his shorts. he cooed, “you’ll let me fuck you, right? gonna let me fuck you nice and good, darling?” he smirks even more when your snaking your arms around his neck, pulling him tightly to your chest. he could feel your soft body through his clothes, his hands sliding down your body to grab at your chubby waist.

he used the grip he had on your waist to guide you to the other side of the desk. you were sitting with the length of the desk behind you, forehead pressed to his while his hands snaked up your waist and to your shirt that was still bunched up over your chest. he slips your shirt off, leaving you completely bare for his greedy eyes to gaze at.

“you won’t be able to fuck me with all your clothes on, y’know,” you teased, your hands sliding down to tug at the hem of his shirt. he nodded and eagerly shed his clothing, his excitement showing in the way he hastily tossed his clothes to the floor. he stood in front of you, his body on display for you and your eyes only while the tips of his ears burned a bright red which he ignored. your eyes scanned over his skinny body, widening when you saw his throbbing cock.

he smirked at your shocked expression, taking a step closer to you and pressing his cock against you. his hands trailed up your arms before cupping your face again, making you look him in the eyes as he teased you, “you’re still gonna let me fuck you, right? gonna let me split you open?” he smirked wider when you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded. he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before his hands flew down to your thighs, grabbing them and pulling you forward until you sat at the very edge of his desk. your hands were gripping at his shoulders while the two of you watched how he grabbed his cock and guided the pretty, pink tip all over your puffy folds.

taking his time to gather your slick with his dick, he grazed his tip up and down your messy folds. he could feel the way your hole twitched when he pressed into ever so slightly before continuing to slide up and rub on your clit a few times. he was eager to slip it in but he wanted to make sure you’d feel just as good so he took his time rubbing your slick all over his cock before finally lining himself up and giving you one last look.

at your nod of approval, he slowly pushed himself in. you both watched as his cock disappeared into you, letting out your own sounds of desire when he stretched you out. he was only halfway in when you whimpered, stuffing your face into the crook of his neck while your fluffy ears tickled his artificial skin. you made no effort to stop him so he kept pushing in until he finally buried himself balls deep inside of you. both of you could feel the other throb and he groaned deeply at the feeling of your walls squeezing him, “relax, darling. you’re tight enough as it is.”

you chuckled at his words and did your best to relax and let your hole take its time getting accustomed to his girth. he was right—he was splitting you open and the combination of your virgin hole and his thick dick made the stretch even more painful. your hands slid across his back while you pull him into a hug, pressing your bodies even closer together. you’re like a pillow to him, your chubby belly and soft tits press against his own torso in a way so perfect that he’s shifting his weight and making you lay down onto the desk.

the cold surface touches your back, making you shiver underneath him while he leans over you. his hips are sitting flush against yours, remaining unmoving until your fully accustomed to his girth. his head moves into your neck again, lips fluttering all over your skin. it felt like hours for him, having to resist the urge to start slamming himself into you while your walls throbbed and twitched around his aching cock. he wanted you to feel good as well but resisting the urge was getting increasingly difficult with every passing second of your hole sucking him in, all while he’s praying to whatever god would be listening to his fucked up little head that your hole will hurry up and relax so he can finally mold your cunt into the shape of his cock.

after what seemed like centuries, you gave your hips a little roll, the action drawing a matching pair of moans from both of you. he peels his lips off of your neck as he starts slowly moving his hips, light and shallow thrusts as if he’s testing the waters. each time he pulls out, he can feel your hole sucking him right back in and he swears he’s addicted. every pull, every push, every ridge of your walls. every moan, every groan, every squelch of your hole. he’s addicted to it all.

slowly, he starts pulling his cock out more and more, increasing the amount of his girth that he pushes back into you with each thrust. first, it’s one inch, then it’s two, then three, four, five.. all until he pulls out to the very tip just before thrusting all six inches of his fat cock back into your puffy pussy. his hands that were once gripping at your chubby waist so gently begin to tighten and he’s suddenly pulling you to meet his hips with each thrust, using you as a toy for his own pleasure. his breath is ragged and sharp and the feel of your warm walls is making him lose his mind. he’s so lost in it, mind clouded and voice gruff as he groans, “fuck, darling. your pussy is taking me so good. you’re taking me so good.”

you mewl in embarrassment at his words, your walls clenching him and sucking him in deeper. he can only chuckle in response, his laughter getting interrupted by a groan at how a simple clench is enough to bring him closer to his orgasm. he would’ve been fine, would’ve been able to hold back if it weren’t for you and the way you whimpered his name. now, it’s his turn to burn from embarrassment as he prematurely spills his seed into you. you gasp at the warmth before chucking, “aw, scara~ i didn’t know a simple moan of your name could get you to-!”

your teasing words are cut off by your own moans when he stands up straight and pins your thighs to your chest. he glared down at you, face red in embarrassment and anger as he starts to quicken his pace. you’re just as infuriating as the day he met you and he’s putting every ounce of frustration, anger, and love he has for you into every thrust. he’s slamming his hips against yours roughly, the sound of his balls slapping against the curve of your ass harmonizing with the pathetic whines you let out.

he’s got you pinned to his desk, pussy creaming and throbbing with each harsh thrust. a condescending smirk plasters itself onto his lips as he watches you fall apart, angling his hips repeatedly until he’s hitting that squishy spot once again. you let out a mantra of his name once more but this time, all it does it fuel him to slam into you even harder. the tip of his thick cock is abusing that spot deep inside you, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head while your whole body is coated with a familiar heat. he growls out your name a few times, smirk growing when he feels your pussy clamping him each each syllable, “aw, darling~ i didn’t know a simple moan of your name could get you to be a mewling mess.”

his eyes flick downward, greedily watching the way his cock sheathes into your puffy cunt over and over again. each thrust has a squelch that fills the room and each squelch has your juices rolling down your ass and onto his desk. he clicks his tongue, looking back up to your pretty fucked out face to watch your eyes flutter shut as you drool all over yourself while he pushes your plush thighs up even higher, “such a messy pussy you have, darling. you and your cunt are one in the same—both drooling for me like a slut.”

your mind is simultaneously racing and completely blank, every ounce of your being overwhelmed. he keeps plunging himself into you at a rapid pace that has your back arching off the desk and your legs shaking, ears and tail twitching wildly with each thrust of his cock into that squishy spot. your little fucked out voice rings in his ears, “scara! scara! scara, i’m cumming!”

“that’s it, darling. cum all over my cock like the slut you are. just like that,” he groans, pushing all his weight onto your thighs as he continuously fucks himself into your twitching cunt. there’s a thick coat of sweat over his artificial skin and his breath is ragged as he gives you one last thrust, his tip slamming right into your cervix as his cum bursts into your womb with a drawn out groan of your name. he pulls himself out of your hole, giving you only a second of peace before he’s using his grip on your thighs to flip you over.

the cold surface of his desk is pressing against your bare chest now, making your nipples stiffen even more. you could just barely register the new position before his tip is back to siding over your sensitive pussy. you look over your shoulder to watch him as he’s gripping his cock with one hand while the other runs up and down your back before pressing into your spine, pinning you to the desk. his cock is scooping up all the cum that spilled out of you and pushing it back into your messy pussy. you mewl as he sheaths himself into your sensitive hole once more, “scara, ‘s too much..”

“one last time,” his words carried a demanding tone that he often used with his fatui squad, a tone that made your hole flutter around him, a tone that made your complaint disappear from your brain. he pulled his hand off his cock, slapping it over the fat of your ass before wrapping it around the base of your twitching tail, “you’re gonna take my cum one last time.“

your sensitive tail thrashed wildly in his hold, pathetic whimpers leaving your lips as he started pounding you from behind. his balls slapped against your throbbing clit with each thrust and he reveled in the way your hands grabbed at the edge of the desk on either side of you in an attempt to stabilize yourself. he rubbed at the base of your tail a few times, the pace of his hand much slower than his hips in a way that was absolutely mind numbing. you rested your face against the cold table, eyes trained onto something on the other side of the room that you couldn’t see with the way your vision blurred at the pleasure.

he was fucking his dick against your cervix with ease in this new position, one hand on your back and the other holding your fluffy tail out of the way so he could watch his cock disappear with every harsh thrust of his hips against your ass. he was fucking obsessed. he needed to keep shoving his cock deeper and deeper into you, needed to fill you up with his cum one more time. he let out a deep breath before letting go of your tail and slapping your ass once more. his hands flew to your chubby waist as he leaned over you, pressing his chest on top of your back.

he kept abusing your cervix with his cock, relishing in the way you fully fell apart for him. he lowered his head to yours, smirking at the way you drooled with each thrust. you were starting to buck your hips back, slamming yourself against him for more. you were a moaning mess, eyes rolled back and nails digging into the underside of the desk.

the two of you panted with each other, moaning and groaning as your hips repeatedly met with a loud, wet slap. his hands slipped under your body, pawing at your belly and tits and enjoying how soft you are. his hands had a mind of their own—sliding all over your body while he fucked you from behind, from your neck to your tits to your belly to your thighs. he couldn’t get enough, he’d probably end up fucking you unconscious if he didn’t stop himself soon.

he kneaded your pudgy thighs again while peppering kisses all over the back of your neck and shoulders, the tip of his cock still slamming into your cervix. both of your minds were completely blank, bodies burning and panting heavily. your hole violently twitched around him, your body shaking once again and your tail flicking rapidly, tickling his stomach. he continued to fuck you through your fifth orgasm, not stopping his thrusts even as you whined, “scara! too much! too much!”

“almost done, darling. you want me to fill up this slutty cunt, don’t you?” the smirk on his face was evident in his voice, “so shut up and let me fuck you full of my cum one last time.” he stood up again, his hands pinning you to the desk by your waist as he kept fucking into your abused hole. you clawed at the desk, laying there and letting him fuck your overstimulated cunt some more. one last thrust and you mewled at the warmth that spilled into your womb again. his hips stilled against your ass for a while as he took a moment to catch his breath, his voice tired and gruff, “god.. you did so well, darling.”

he leaned over again, pressing a kiss onto your cheek before pulling himself out of you and plopping back into his chair. you stayed bent over his desk for a while, unable to move your tired body as he shamelessly stared at his seed spilling out of your aching hole. he resisted the urge to fuck his cum back into you, slapping your ass playfully, “c’mon, get up. i still have all that paperwork to do.”

you slowly pushed yourself off of the desk, legs shaking as you glared back at him. he got himself dressed before helping you out with your own clothes. your hands were on his shoulders, keeping yourself steady while he pulled your pants up your legs. he shook his head in faux disappointment, “so.. you were in on it the whole time?”

“of course not. it was all that segment’s idea—i didn’t know until today,” you said, putting your bra and shirt back on.

he blinked for a moment before smirking, “so the second you found out about it, you just had to come see me.”

taglist: @magica-ren

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin scaramouche #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin scara #genshin impact scara #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche smut #scara smut #chubby reader

[kalims]

˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "who i like? do you seriously think I'm gonna tell you that? anyways its—"

大好き

premise. someone asks who you like.. and you respond with their name—said person right beside you!

characters. all dorms and their prominent students

includes. gn reader

note. after a long wait! and the almost month this has been on my 'to be added' category it's hereeee.. fun fact.. I actually finished another work because I liked the idea of it more even though this was my prioritized.

was 20 mins late because I was fixing my posts aksbja

heartslabyul

looks at you like you're insane. I'm confident everyone can envision riddle's face like that. it's in between the verge of being flustered and being appalled by your lack of filter. heat practically steams out of riddle's ears as his movements stutters, clearly struggling to comprehend what you said. maybe you should get ready for an earful but you're pleasantly suprised when riddle sets aside his.. passionate emotions to shyly ask a confirmation. (with admitted aggression as if he's in denial)

trey's eyebrows shoot up but the action looks way more casual than it should be. I mean, surprisingly he's pretty calm on taking it into account but he ends up just being a smiling fool beside you as you continue your conversation with your friend. he's like... ‎◜◡◝ beside you as your friend looks between the two of you in a hurry before breaking into a laugh. should be be worried that you're this bold..? well, it did work in his favor so he can't say a thing.

happy go luck cater looks even more happy than you've ever seen him in your life. hanging lowly by his sides, his hands twitch and he itches to pull out his phone to basically renounce to the world that his feelings are very much reciprocated and probably lowkey shitting on the people with one sided loves because, ha! he wins!! you bet he's gonna settle for screaming in his private account and then proceeding to scream in his pillow.

before he could foster up a grin and break out of the 'calm and responsible' honor student, deuce had to keep his lower lips under his teeth lest he looks like a weirdo smiling uncontrollably tinged in flush. the whole time he was just staring at you goofily.. like he's on cloud nine, which I concur. because he is. the one who gets gaslighted (not by you) into thinking that you both now are in a relationship like.. deuce be for real you didn't even ask me on a fate. (actually both of you might think you're in a relationship because of the way you're acting like yall are)

contrary to beliefs I think ace would be on the more casual side. you know? throwing an arm around your shoulder and shattering whatever personal space criteria there was. clearly there's no need when you 'like' him so much. he's using your words as an excuse to do whatever he wants, like leaning strangely close, letting a hand linger longer than it should. whatever restraint he had before is gone now because now he's moving onto a new level of personal. you'd either hate or secretly like the change. hate because ace wtf we're in class and like because,, who wouldn't want your crush to be overly affectionate with you?

savanaclaw

you'd think leona wasn't listening at all just from the indifferent look on his face but you know better just from the way his eyes perk up, tail sticking up in dormant but still a signal of alert and attention. for once he doesn't quip a tease, or a smart-ass remark that would want you to shovel your way to the ground on embarrassment. he just.. sits there, staring seemingly into the void of thin air itself. maybe it's because he's feeling particularly sentimental or sensitive today that his heart feels like it's encased in warmth. it feels good.

a laugh too shaky for his preferences, ruggie hopes he didn't look too nervous for his sake. I mean, this is literally his suprise of the century and when I tell you that it's a big shock to him, it's an understatement. come on, if he did think you had feelings for him ruggie imagined the confession going normally. either buttering him up or going straight to the point—the latter, which he prefers but when he said to be direct he certainly didn't expect this! the hyena runs away with jitters and a skip to his steps but he comes back a few minutes later looking more relaxed than you've ever seen him.

once again. contrary to expectations which the savanclaw boys had practically shattered those, many would think jack would go all shy. from the previous savanaclaw boys you'd think I'd go against expectations again but you're.. wrong hehe. i don't know how to explain other than he wills himself to show a reaction other than fluster, maybe it's just in his pride to now show you an ounce of weakness but literally how could be when you're the weakness? he doesn't know if you making him soft is good or not.

octavinelle

if it was real and possible to actually happen without a third party force, azul's glasses would've definitely shattered the moment you said the direct confession. he's torn between wanting to excuse himself to scream like a school girl or intent to not let the fluster show. well, either way he does both. keeping his emotions hardly in check, sometimes slipping up multiple times but when the time comes where you both part ways you know he's silently smiling to himself when he turns round a corner. the twins are suspicious and curious as to why azul had been in a good mood nowadays..

either jade maintains his cool, natural closed eyed smile or he crinkles his eyes when he breaks into a large sharp toothed grin. of course both has the lingering ominous feeling around it because it's jade.. and even you have to agree that him openly cracking a grin isn't exactly a good sign of peace, rather so a harbinger of trouble. if you were bold enough to say that in his presence I wonder how that previous confidence will fare when he's practically picking at your earlier words to gouge a reaction. no jade, I only said like. not love (yet).

no one other than floyd would be more than ecstatic. he didn't hear it at first, blinking then tilting his head to the side when he pauses to register it. so when he finally processes it you bet he's giggling in his head but in real time? he's practically sweeping you off your feet to hug you in the air. figures with the strange merman strength.. you find out that floyd is quite clingy when he's immensely happy, he even refused to let you go through classes and when you insisted he just sat down next to your seat and promptly kicked out whoever sat there before! floyd atleast hide! I mean the professor would surely notice the eel that's not in supposed to be in their class.

scarabia

if there was an option where he could purchase everything in the world then giving it to you without expecting anything back kalim would surely choose it. you got him so happy to the fact that he's willing to do practically anything that you ask. he doesn't mean to be over the top but.. he just wants to make you happy, which is more than you deserve. no matter how many times you tell him that you don't need any gifts but rather him only, it seemed like it only did worse since he practically fell a hundred times harder which brings us to the conclusion that he wants to give you the world a whole lot more now..

a complete opposite of kalim. jamil merely blinks and casts you a side eye. for the record, he is a little impressed you're that bold because if it was him he would've just brushed this person away or claimed that he liked no one but here you are. completely obliterating the concept of secrets. perhaps that's why he likes you in the first place, your personality is certainly a force to reckon with.. but sometimes you just have to tone down the chaos.. *please* 😐

pomefiore

vil is no stranger to bold proclamations but he can't deny he's a little startled. well, he didn't pick you out to be that type of person. either way usually he'd plaster a quick smile, the words not hitting anything other than the skin of his heart. strangely enough he can't keep the smile wider than he'd like off his face, he's immensely pleased by your words and pomefiore has never been so happy by the obvious good mood their dorm leader had. cause he left them alone for the whole day to practice stick to your side.

his eyes immediately crinkle in joy, rook has to look away and cover the lower part of his face to shy away the flush in his cheeks that would give away his thoughts. rook wouldn't mind if you knew how he felt, but this time he feels as though he's doing this to contain the excitement off his face. you can practically hear the tremble in his voice as he giggles out. "oh tricheur ! mon coeur bat pour toi dans ma poitrine!" it looks like rook completely forgot to existence of the person right next to you. if he got madol from the amount of times he practically sang of his love for you rook would be rich.

just like any other time where you say something off handed epel quickly goes out of character and nearly screams. asking, shaking your shoulders, out of breath by the amount of times he aggressively shook you for the answer of "really?!" his voice becomes that of a boy you aren't used to, but if he's really that willing to show you the person he truly is it makes you like him more. if you do agree, admittedly with your surroundings growing distorted he yells out a happy "YESSS." then coughs and resumes to his soft persona like he wasn't the complete opposite a minute ago. (the person that asked was shook)

ignihyde

it's hard to say if idia is actually gonna be next to you since,, he's idia and do you really think he'd entertain the thought of being in a conversation with someone who he doesn't know? so let's just pretend his tablet is floating next to you, it's better than nothing you guess. you spared a glance to the electronic when you literally confessed your type, idia himself fitting the category perfectly. you swore you heard a squeak but ehh.. maybe it was a rat or something.

meanwhile. ortho comes inside idia's room expecting his elder brother to just be sitting on his bed, gaming chair or something but no. idia shroud is on the floor, with his headphones hazzardly over the floor like it fell over when he did. his hair is sprawled around the floor, heating into a concerning passionate pink as he rolls around and... squeals..? just from the headphones ortho can vaguely hear a "my type..? oh you know idia? I'd kill to have a boyfriend like him." playing on repeat.

diasomnia

he would be like: ˘ ˘ and then: ‎◜◡◝ after he hears you. if there a sound for a big, happy dragon malleus would be excluding them. when I tell you he wishes nothing but to just whisk you away on spot he's not kidding, unlike everyone else who unintentionally forgot the person who asked. this man forgets them intentionally because he can't keep his eyes off you like.. 'hey other human. me and my child of man are having a moment here. will you please leave now. did you not get the sign'

giggles but with his deep voice it sounds kinda weird, but nice to the ears nonetheless. lilia labels you as his main target now, perhaps scaring you shitless at the random times is his love languange because he does it a lot. don't worry though, he always says a half hearted apology with a smile and showers you with affection right after. how could you be mad with how he treats you? even though he cares for you after you can't help but pray that the glint you saw in the ceiling was just some shiny thing.. maybe malleus got it from him because he doesn't care for the other person too.

sebek scolds you period. not only have you mentioned his name (which he's embarrassingly torn between being disgusted and fluster) but you've also mentioned that he's your type?? but I honestly think he approves your taste. "OF COURSE I am the ideal man! I applaud you for once human. not everyone can see the value of loyalty and devotion to waka-sama!" he says but with the increasing pink in his face you know better than to think that it's for the sole reason of malleus.

with the increasing time you've both spent together, silver has practically devoted himself to following you around whenever he's awake. (sebek says something about him always needing to be by malleus' side but quickly shuts up after silver comments that sebek is more than capable to look after him) the surroundings are growing hazy when you say it but he hears it nonetheless. he's happy to say that he dreamt a pleasing dream he's ever gotten in a long time. and since you were in it, it's safe to say that he's positively infatuated now.

clarifications

translation for rook is,, "oh trickster! my heart beats for you in my chest!"

I connected ignihyde parts since I REFUSE to leave out ortho!!

I really liked how those ^ parts came out. my favorite actor cause I think it's cute for idia to be freaking out like that lolol. especially with the idea of recording of your voices to listen to cause he's that down bad

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed ! #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trapolla x reader #deuce spade x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jack howl x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #epel felmier x reader #idia shroud x reader #ortho shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #silver x reader

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS PT.8 PLANET PLACEMENTS 101

Aries Placements - Have the ability to drive anything into fruition. They can have a goal and see the plan through with an interesting amount of imagination and practicality in place. These aren't the type to sit down and 'wait' for things to come to them, they will simply be stubborn enough to do it themselves. Everything may not have gone as planned on the first go, but with time and stability they will come out greater and gain a sense of self-mastery in their craft.

Venus Placements - People with venusian aspects like sun/moon/rising have a gift that contains a higher amount of charm then most. These individuals can utilize their personalities in a way that will get them favored. Like their gemini friends, they can be a lil tricky to figure out. It is because they are able to use their beauty as a shield (as well as an illusion) to get what they want in life. It is only when they are self aware of this gift, they can use it to get whatever it is they desire.

Neptunian Placements - Neptunians have a gift in being the muse of creation. They are splendid in their craft of creating safe spaces for their imagination to dwell in. Whether its through art, fashion or just simply existing, like their aquarian buddies they have this gift of connecting to the stars way before everyone can catch up. They can come off a bit crazy to others, but in hindsight they are deeply aware of self and have a mass amount of empathy that allows them to read reality the way it is, and share that insight with the rest of the world.

Pluto Placements - Plutonians can undergo a lot of stress when they allow things to fester without bringing attention to the matter. These are the individuals to suffer in silence and by not saying a word they can cut out any forms of emotional support if they are not aware of themselves to escape the astro-cities that can sometimes be the danger of their own mind. (Moon/Pluto Placements - Outlets for your emotional expression is a necessity.) When there is no guidance for your emotions to thrive you will end up rageful and continuing to feel the lesser dense emotions hiding in your body. It will eventually way on you and it'll take a toll on your spirit. The power beneath this placement is to hold on tightly to that powerful entity you know is divine no matter what they tell you.

Plutonian Individuals may find themselves in the arms of people who are testifying their gifts right in front of you. Some wish to belittle and do harm to you because in the mirror they do not see the same light or dark power that you continue to see in yourself. So these people will always try to bite you to get a piece of it themselves, but in the end it never turns out the way they think. It turns sour.

Sun Placements - So I noticed the more sun placements an individual has, the more difficult this energy can be to surrender to. A person with sun/neptune may have a difficulty with expressing their empathic nature because the world isn't connected to their astral body like they are. When they express themselves, its like their connecting to their soul that feels out of the human experience. They have a different connection to the world then most, so they'll be often misunderstood. But in general, sun placements can feel a bit off in society because the world is always saying their cocky or arrogant when really they are free of the world and its restraints. Sun placements (no matter how big or small the aspect) have to deal with a lot of people taking themselves for granted. When they are sent to be a light, others are horrified by their shadows being shined on (sun/pluto). The more placements (especially conjunctions you have) the more you'll be tempted to stop the light since others will attempt to bring you down with them. It's a path that builds for a leader to take ship, not to dim down.

Uranian Placements - Ahead of their time but mostly because the world isn't ready for change. When these individuals get a hand on how society operates, they become powerhouses who are the tyrants ready for newness.These brainiacs are capable of being connected to the cosmos where receiving divine information on how to move and where to go gives them great benefit. They only thing I can say to them is, you have to be mindful of the company you keep. Because not everyone can see the vision. Do not allow any and everybody to take up space for whatever it is you claim as yours. Just because THEY can't see it doesn't mean its not real. Again, the things you see come through in your mind is a gift that the cosmic connections of space gave to you. You know the true concept of time more than anyone else, and with that you are able to gather up the right information, make your abilities/skills stronger than ever and than boom. The big bang. It all works in the end, dont force yourself to know everything. Just focus on the stars.

#astrology thoughts #astrology #astrology theories #tropical astrology #astrology observations #neptune #uranus #pluto #venus #aries #sun #moon #pluto moon #ARIES PLACEMENTS #astro thoughts #astro observations #astrology knowledge #deja's astro observations

[snenbubs]

I've made you all wait too long for this. Its an eeensy weensy bit late, BUT ITS DONE. I present to you;

HB MAMMON X GN!READER NSFW/SMUT

As previously stated, I've done afab terms bcz thats all I really know how to write! Apologies if this isn't to your taste :[

Also this is lowk rlly bad pls dont mind it, if you do like it though feel free to send an ask!! :3

NSFW Under the cut! 18+ Only!

The relationship you had with Mammon wasn't binding. There had been no written agreement, formal signing, or anything of the sorts that dedicated yourself to the demon. Aside from, of course, the one he made you sign when you had agreed to work for him; but that did not cover the basis of what had been on his mind. 

No, it didn't even come close to what was on his mind, what made him writhe about idly in his seat. Leg bouncing against the thick leather chair whilst his deep chartreuse eyes glowered in the dark of his office. There he sat, alone, pen to paper as he attempted to sort through the weeks finances. His work was lit by nothing but a small, faulty lamp that flickered on and off unreliably. He'd refused to rid himself of the sickly possesion, claiming over and over again that despite its withered condition, he'd be saving money by keeping it as it was. You'd whine to him about it incessantly, pointing out the bad habit, and how it would ruin his eyes, yet nothing changed. He was a sin, anyways, so it wasn't like reading with a shitty lamp would hurt him, but he enjoyed your attention far too much to tell you that.

It was clear to tell through his demeanour that Mammon was not in the best of moods. With both his upper hands being used as a resting point for his head whilst one of his lower hands absently scrawled a pen across an endless mound of paperwork. As previously noted, however, he wasn't quite there. Practically on auto-pilot, his thoughts swirled and stormed and crashed against one another. All of his bubbling emotions however, all of his regret, and rage, and worry, surrounded one singular person: you. 

You were Mammon's star. His favourite. A talented clown who not only brought him tons of revenue, but also, the only clown who actually enjoyed his shitty personality. You thought he was funny, and actively sought out his company, so it didn't take long to climb your way up the pedestal. It took even less time for things between the two of you to become more... intimate. 

Which was why he was so pissed off. 

Part of why, anyways. 

As one of his most talented performers it wasn't unusual for venues outside of the Greed ring to request a show. Often, these high class clubs, or restaurants, would pay high fees for a glimpse of his most sought after clowns. He could never refuse these offers, after all, money was money and he was the King of Greed. So, when an offer came through from a small, upcoming club in the Lust ring, who was willing to offer a big sum of cash for a glimpse of his stars presence, including transport and accommodation, how could he say no?

Well. He'd sure learn to say no. He'd have to hold some sort restraint, when it came to you at least, and not throw you off into the midst of the clawy, grabby hands of your fans. Especially, those of Lusts origins. He wanted to throttle Asmodeus for creating such blatantly horny demons that they'd flirt and coo with any living thing, disregarding just who they may piss off in the process. 

And oh, was he pissed off; 

It had all occured the night before. 

You were so pretty, adorned in a pristine clown outfit - which had been specially catered to Mammon's likeness. You were eager to head to head to the performance, and Mammon, keener to make a bank from your fans, waited by your side to bid you a farewell. A specialty he reserved for only you. 

But, as the sleek black limousine pulled to a halt outside of his large manor, regret seemed to bubble deep within his chest. A tight, sour feeling, of disgust welled as he watched that god-awful incubus offer his hand to you. Mammon caught the way that demons eyes raked your body, filled with lust, he caught the way the demons hands lingered over yours, the sly glances he threw your way and the way he spoke in such a flirtatious tone.

What was even worse, was that you were aware of such advances, and didn't do anything to stop them! 

He had no right to be feeling the way he was. You weren't his to keep or control. That he knew. Yet, adressing the wrongness of his burning anger did nothing to quell it. If anything it made it worse, because now he felt like a shitty person. 

Four fingers raked across his desk with anticipation. The cold touch of wood beneath his gloved fingertips a good enough distraction from his overwhelming thoughts. 

At this point, the once towering pile of clean, straightened papers that had sat beside him had moved across the desk. Now painted with his sigil and signature, creating contracts that would bind demons to him eternally. He'd be sure to regret not reading through them first later, which would just be another thing to add to his growing plate of mistakes. Right now however, he was nearing the end of his workload and was desperate to call it quits. He pressed his head further into his own palms as he continually signed his name onto paper, after paper, after paper. 

Reasonably, he was upset, when three coordinated knocks rapped against the large mahogany doors which sealed his office away from the rest of his manor. He recognised the concentric nature of the knock to be that of one of his various Fizz-bots, which he had replaced all of his work staff with in the sake of saving money. 

Discontented, and desiring to be alone to wallow within his own solitude, Mammon's lips curled into a snarl which showcased his rows of many, many sharp teeth. A god-awful growl reverberated through his throat. He paused his hand, yet he didn't tear his eyes away from his work. 

The only issue replacing your servants with robots, is that they didn't know any social cues. Upon hearing his gutteral remark a living demon would certainly back away and give the sin his space. But, the Fizz-bot didn't quite catch onto that, and instead, took the sound as an affirmation. 

The doorhandle to Mammon's office was golden, and had been intricately decorated with that of antique design. It's ochre tint glistened prettily against the thinly covered lampshade that flickered at the demons desk. This glistening however was rudely interrupted as the handle began to rattle obnoxiously, twisting a few times whilst whining and croaking in protest before finally giving way and allowing the large door to swing open.

The Fizz-bot strolled in almost too casually for the Royals liking, its lanky limbs loose at its sides. Mammon bore his fangs toward the bot, rising from his seat ready to tear the thing apart bit by bit. He hesitated however, when it spoke out to him; 

"(Y/N) has returned." Rasped out its monotonous voice. At its words, Mammon's demeanour calmed, he resisted in attacking the poor bot and instead opted to to glare at it.

"What?" Came his thick Aussie accent, laced with interest as he now decided his work could wait until later. He leaned forward, the tinkling of his bells signalling his movement. 

The Fizz-bot stood still for some moments before repeating its original statement; "(Y/N) has returned," it cocked its pale face to the side curiously for some moments. "In the lobby, with limousine driver--" 

The poor bot didn't have a chance to finish its sentence. The moment it had mentioned that fucking limousine driver, Mammon had shoved his entire desk to the side and began marching forward. The Fizz-bot, who had been in his way, how decended to the floor in two sparking pieces of metal, fabric and silicone. 

He left his office in a flurry, storming down the expansive, winding corridors of his manor with little to no care for the priceless items that lined its corridors. Fizz-bots would have to dive out of his way or else face becoming a mutilated mess such as the one that had unfortunately gone to his office to inform him of your return. 

Usually, it took a long while to traverse the halls of his manor, for it was large, and he was never in any rush to be somewhere. Yet, he knew you were alone with that horrible incubus and that alone was enough to make him move faster than he needed to, and so he made it to his location in almost minutes. 

The double doors which blocked him from the lobby were thrown open, a loud clang echoing through the grand enterance which signalled his arrival.

The lobby was a fancy room, grand in its size as it was its decor; the opening doors, lined with real gold, were surrounded with authentic stained glass, depicting Mammon and his... many charitable acts that definitely did happen. Across from the door was a grand staircase, split into two with a balcony at the centre wich looked over entire ensemble. That was where Mammon stood, towering over the room like a king to his subjects, the subjects being you, and that shitty incubus who spoke to you. He watched with narrow eyes, as you laughed at the demons words, clinging to each sentence  so endearingly that you hadn't even noticed his overbearing presence. Mammon liked the way you looked when you laughed, and he found that the demon you were offering such a look to was not worthy of laying his gaze on such a sight. 

Bolts of lightning surrounded his figure, glooms of green began to seep the surface of the balcony and in the blink of an eye Mammon had been enveloped in a cloud of flashing sage and jade, dissapating from the balcony and reforming in another flared pall. 

"(N/N)!" His voice cooed out, tone now sweeter than before as be put forth a joyous persona as to not give way the fact that he had been brooding over this situation just moments beforehand. "How is my favourite clown doing this fine afternoon? Did the show go well? I bet it did, people love you!" 

You cast your cheery gaze onto Mammon, now distracted from the limousine guy as the tall green Sin slung an arm across your shoulder, practically draping his body across yours. 

"Oh, Mammon! Yes, it did go well." You adressed him accordinly, a wide smile etched into your lips which gave-way the results of your performance which had happened the night before. "Actually, we we're just-" 

"We we're just talking about how they should totally come back and perform for us again." 

You had been cut off by a sultry, breathy voice, that of the incubus who was stood opposite with a cocky grin across his sharp-toothed face. Mammon was not pleased with the demons interruption, and, by the way your smile faltered, threatening to slip to that of a frown, he could tell you were not pleased either. 

"Hi, my name is--" 

"I don't care." Mammon clipped back at the demon, happy-go-lucky persona now melding to that of his buried anger. He gave the guy a snarled expression, unhappy with his disrespect toward Mammon's sinfulness. 

The incubus' brow furrowed, eyes clocking into a look of confusion. "Okay... rude much," He placed a hand on his hip, "As I was saying..." 

Mammon took his arm away from your figure, not missing the way your body leant into his touch as he retreated. He opted instead to pull himself up to full height, glaring down at the demon dangerously. It was at this point the incubus began to cower backward, tail between his legs with knees threatening to buckle underneath his own weight. Mammon growled again, this time louder; 

"They will not be going back to that shit-hole of a joint, d'ya hear me?" He leant in closer to the demon, who was now nodding his head profusely in complete understanding to the bigger, more powerful demons commands. Mammon remained quiet for a few moments, before huffing. "You can fuck right off, I don't like you. Get back to your limousine, cunt."

He didn't have to tell the incubus a second time, for the second he finished his utterance the pink-ish skinned creature was scurrying backward as fast as his hooved feet could take him. 

As he watched the demon leave, Mammon hesitated for a moment, afraid to turn around and meet your gaze. He had... vastly, overreacted to a situation that could have been handled with ease. Yet it just pissed Mammon off how the fuckwad, so full of himself, never gave you a moment to preach. 

The Sin stood languidly for a few moments, before a huff of relief soundes from behind him. He turned his head to gaze at you, watching as you chuckled nervously, fret filling your stance. He was unsure of what to say. 

"Oh my god," You began, deciding after a moments silence between the two of you to plafe your input. "I'm so glad he's gone, he was so invasive, and annoying." You made a gagging motion, hoping to put a smile onto the big jesters face. 

Clearly, it worked, his first gaze softened on your form before morphing into that of a big, charming grin. "Right?" He cackled, striding over to your side once more to place a hand atop of your head, roughing you up cheekily. "Honestly, I felt so bad leavin' you with him yesterday, worried you'd kill yourself from boredom." It was a complete lie, but he wasn't about to let you know he had convinced himself you wanted to fuck the demon, and had let himself get all pissy over it. 

"God, I thought I was too." You rolled your eyes at the memory, having to sit in the small limousine for a whole ride through the Greed ring, with an elevator stop, then another ride through the Lust ring, all while he yapped on about how cool he was. You shuddered.

"I'll do another show there, though, the audience was great. I'll get one of the Fizz-bots to sort it out." You yawned as you spoke, tiredly rubbing a fist against an eye. You began to head to the grand staircase, intent to head to your luxurious room and collapse against the plush bed Mammon had bought specially for you. 

The great Sin followed behind close at your heel, so omnipotent that his shadow cast over you ominously. "Well actually," He began, tone now turning to that of something more formal. You knew that voice all too well, he was about to push forth a business proposal. "I don't think you should do shows in Lust anymore."

At first, you were ready to groan. To shun him out and tell him that his ideas could wait until the morning. However, his words brought you to a firm halt, stood still half-way up the golden lined staircase. You turned to face the jester with a cocked brow, expression not near enough to showcase the confusion you felt, which was only pushed further once you saw the state Mammon was in: fidgety, and odd. He wrung his top set of gloved hands together, and occupied the bottom two with the fabrics of his clothes. He kept his gaze low. From this, you could gather no source of his intent, only that he was anxious. A state you had only seen of him once or twice in all the years you had worked under his watchful eye. 

"But Lust is where I get most of my revinue from," With a soft, lighthearted tone you chose to remind Mammon of your worth, mentally praying that he was not firing you, and instead had a secret promotion up his well decorated sleeve. "If I stop doing shows there I'll be one of your least sought after clowns."

Mammon felt your cold, petrifying gaze on his figure. He lifted his gaze from the floor, but rather than looking at you, he directed it somewhere else - across the room, where a rather interesting portrait of he and Lucifer sat. "Well, it's always good for a change once in a while, aye? Besides, you're a star, (N/N). No matter the ring." 

You continued to gaze at him narrowly. "I don't... understand?" Was all you could seemingly muster out. 

Once more, Mammon remained silent, hesitating to speak the truth. "I just, don't think you should do shows there  'nymore. I don't like the way they treat you." He twiddled his fingers together idly. 

You took a moment to process what he had said, mind running amock with the thoughts of why he was making such a rash decision; he didn't appear to be firing you, simply moving where you performed your shows. It was an unnecessary edit, all because he 'didn't like the way they treated you'? You considered the phrase for some time, before it finally clicked in your head. Once it had, a wide, sly smile spread across your cheeks. 

"Oh, really, why?" You spoke coyly, lowering your lids provocatively as you lowered yourself a step closer to Mammon so that the space between the two of you had been eliminated completely. "I don't mind the way they treat me."

He gazed down at you unblinkingly. "Well I don't, and my word is final-" 

"Why~?" You cocked your head to the side, smirk only growing in size as he stuttered backward on his words. Letting out a faux gasp, you continued; "Oh, Mam, you aren't... jealous, are you?" 

His face flushed, a dead give-away to his true feelings. Your smirk only widened at this. "N--No, I'm not, it just makes me uncomfortable, how much they wanna fuck you-"

You let out a sarcastic chortle, placing a hand to your chest. "You so fucking are! You're jealous!" 

Mammon remained quiet on the matter, keeping his head turned away as to not face embarassment of admitting to such a defeat. He was jealous, he was so fucking jealous, ever since he had watched you leave that night beforehand it had burnt deep within the pits of his core, every inch of scathing grump he had boiled down to work stress was because of you. He huffed. His refusal to answer was enough in itself, and so, you chose to now offer a hand of rapport and sympathy; 

"If its any consolation," You started, now averting your gaze from his larger form. A show of embarassment, as your cheeks flushed hottly. Mammon, through the corner of his eye, caught onto this. It interested him greatly. "I couldn't stop thinking about you last night." 

Now he looked at you. "Really?" Came a rushed response, he was surprised at his own eagerness to hear such input. This, of course, was a state he had been reduced to many a time. Desperately greedy for the attention you were willing to offer him. 

"Yeah," You started once more. Though your gaze was not on him, you could sense his close presence, evading your space as each second passed. Not that you minded, his warm figure had always been a guilty pleasure. "I don't like being alone, you know that. I missed you, I wished you could have been there." 

It was no surprise that when you returned to look at him, you found his face only inches away from yours. His hot breath fanned against your face in bursts, and you had to resist the urge to lean forward and plant a sweet kiss to his  lips. 

It was his turn to be cocky now, with eyelids coated in thick eyeliner lowered egotistically. "That why you're here so early, aye? Wanted to see me?" His eyes motioned to a large, fancybclock which sat against the wall at the very top of the grand staircase, it tattled of your earliness; three hours early to be exact, you had been eager to see Mammon. 

"I want more than that." You pressed your forehead against his, sly smirk now returning as you regained some semblance of confidence.

For a moment, the two of you stood, head-to-head, pressed closely together as you basked in the comfort of each others presence. Eventually, however, Mammon retracted himself, standing at full height and grinning evilly at the whine you let out at the loss of contact. 

"And what is it you want from me, (N/N)?" You wanted to murder the bastard for his overgrown confidence, stood below him with your arms crossed over your chest and cheeks puffed out angstily. He wanted you to say it outright. He always did; he wanted you to profess how badly you wanted and needed him. Stroke his ego and reap the rewards. 

With a short blow of air from your nostrils, you caved in. Deciding that if it meant getting to be shoved hard into a mattress for the evening then you could deal with his arrogance in the morning. 

"Mammon," You cooed out softly. You took a moment to bend your knees, and jump up onto him. He caught you in his arms reflexively, holding you close to him allowing you to lean close to his ear. "I want you, to fuck me." 

And you didn't have to tell him twice. 

The tinkling of bells was all that could be heard echoing through the halls of Mammon's large, lonely manor. He held you close in his arms, and moved quickly. Quicker than you had seen him move that one time one of his Fizz-bots had dropped a bag of money on the street. There were so many deaths. 

As previously stated, it would have taken a while to traverse the lond and winding halls of his manor, but, now fixated on a new desire to have you all to himself, he made it to his extravagant bedroom in moments. 

His room was large, lined with accents of gold, black and green; at the centre, was your destination. A large bed, fit for that of royalty, with plush sheets and pillows significantly larger than your small Hellborn figure, as they had been made for Mammon, who was taller and more substantial than anything you had ever seen. The bed was lined with curtains of thick green-ish grey webbing, which, as you were thrown to the centre of the bed, concealed you from the rest of the room. 

Mammon threw you to the bed almost carelessly, lost in a haze of need. You bounced against the expensive mattress, laying amonst the pillows and such that had been strewn across his bed lazily. The larger demon loomed over you ominously, casting his gaze down upon you and bathing your body in a light chartreuse glow. 

"You have no bloody idea how much I hated letting you go off with that fuckin' prick." He almost growled, placing his forehead against yours once more. An act of intimacy you found greatly comforting. A set of his hands found their way to your hips, pulling you closer beneath him so that you were flush to his body. 

You let out a soft chuckle, bringing a hand up to flick a bell at the end of his coxcomb. "God," You huffed, now bringing your hands to wrap around his neck. "You're such a big oaf." You we're lucky to be so important to him, otherwise he would have had you punished for such an insult. 

Instead, he simply huffed. Content to let you bully him so long as you just stayed so, so close to him. He relished the warmth of your presence for a few moments, simply content to have you with him, but it didn't take long for him to begin craving more. 

He brought his lips to yours and pulled you closer toward him, if that was even possible at this point. He keenly pressed hungrily sweet kisses to your mouth, which you returned with an equally as needy fervour. Soon enough, his forked tongue was tangled with that of your own as he took every inch of your mouth as his own. The sides of your hips stung from where Mammon held you, his claws digging into that of your clown costume and probably ruining it for future use. Such a thought was long forgotten however, in the heat of the moment. From how close the demon held you to his body, you could feel the hardened tent in his pants, which only egged you on further. 

Cautiously and almost tauntingly, you raised your hips toward his in a slow roll. Grinding against his clothed erection with a pert demeanour.

At the sudden contact, Mammon let out a short whine. His grip against your hips tightened impossibly, using the hold he had on you to unfortunately pull away. His tongue left your mouth with a string of drool, which left you midly grossed out but also extremely turned on. 

You frowned; "Hey!" Was all you coulf muster out, a cocky remark to distract yourself from the building heat that had settled between your legs. In all truth, you weren't going to complain for you knew whatever Mammon was to do with you, it would be amazing. 

Mammon eyed you up and down, his eyes filled with that of awe and desire. "Enough teasing," He started, finally removing his hands from your hips and instead focussing all four onto the task of undoing your complex clown outfit. "I want that stunner cunt of yours, I've had a rough day." 

You let out a short laugh at the demons half assed excuse for being so demanding. "Anything for you, Mam." Was your obedient response, and you took to helping him unfasten the outfit. He was pleased with your compliance, if the grin on his face was anything to go by. 

Soon enough, your clothes had been thrown astrew somewhere across the bed, lost in a sea of webbing and you sat in the nude, vulnerable beneath the Sin. You did not shy away however, not like you had the first time you had found yourself in such a situation with Mammon. No. Now you lay confidently in your berth, for you knew he adored you in all your demonic body. 

And adore he would do. 

With a pair of hands and your hips holding you in place, Mammon brought his second pair to pry your legs apart. An action which you allowed with relative ease. At this point you were an eager mess, biting your lip with anticipation to the sensations he would offer. The burning heat at your very core sparked ebbing embers of need and want which only increased as you watched Mammon lower his head between your legs. 

Your hips bucked with anticipation, moving your hands to rest atop of his green coxcomb and gently egg him on. He chuckled darkly at your impatient attitude. It was with that, that he decided to finally ease you of your yearning, and so, with his forked tongue, he licked a long stripe across your enterance. 

At the sudden contact, a breathless gasp slipped past your lips. Mammon paused for just a moment to relish in the sound you had let out, a sound he knew only he was able to bring from you. 

"Fuck," He growled out, looking up at you from between your legs. A position only you could force him into. "You've got one hell of a cunt, you know that? I could get drunk off of you." The comment made heat rush to the edges of your cheeks, but you did not have long to fawn over his sudden comment for within moments he delved back down between your legs. 

You were inclined to believe him when he claimed to get drunk off of you, because Mammon ate like a man starved. With hands gripping at your thighs and hips he had himself pressed flush against you, as far as he could so that he could greedily and hungrily lap at you over and over. You were glad he was a Sin and could not die, for if any normal demon did this you were sure they'd surely suffocate. 

With his repititive, almost frantic motions, all you could do was pant and whine, hands gripping his coxcomb so tight your knuckles began to throb with pain. It was different, from being fucked, this brought forth a different kind of rapture; waves of pleasure rolled through your core, you felt a familiar coil bubble through your midriff, tightening and tightening the more Mammon continued.

Mammon took note of each sound you made, listening intently to the ways in which you gasped and mewled beneath him. If he found a sound he liked the most, such as when you'd utter his name in a strangled moan, he'd work twice as hard just to hear you do it again. Plunging his tongue even deeper within you, ravenous for the way you made him feel. 

"Oh-- Mammon!" You cried, voice audibly cracking when one of his hands gently caressed across your thigh and moved down to play at your clitoris. Such an action, combined with the etches of his tongue deep within your cavern, tasting and devouring every inch of you for himself pushed the bubbles within your core to the very edge. You pushed his head further down. "I--I'm close.. ah! Please!" 

Mammon was not one to deny you of your wishes. 

For a moment, he paused his actions. Retracting his tongue slowly to hear the loud growl of protest you'd let out, but, within moments he delved back in; circling your clit with his thumb and fucking you thoroughly with his tongue.

It was this action that pushed you over the very edge, snapping the coil in your core suddenly. You threw your head backward as Mammon fucked you through your orgasm, white clouding your vision whilst waves of pleasure shot through your system. Your legs twitched from overstimulation. 

After a few moments, you felt Mammon's long tongue leave your body. You lay dizzily against the bedsheets, lost in a post-sex haze which had you unbearably turned on. Much to your joy however, you soon found Mammon's presence above you once more. His glowing eyes connecting with yours before he leant in for a sloppy kiss, messier than the first one had been, filled with a fervent passion that had grown in the vial of your lust. 

Mammon's hands roamed your body, as yours did his. He groped at your sides and waist, holding you close so that you could grind your body against his. Palming the tent in his pants eagerly. 

"You're too good for me, you know that, right?" The larger demon grumbled, barely pulling away from your lips as he spoke. So much so that the vibration of his voice hummed into your mouth. 

You chittered against him longingly, meekly shaking your head against his. "I'm really not." You griped, rolling your eyes to the side before promptly letting go of his body and letting yourself fall backward into the sheet. "I was made for you.. now... if you would please ​​​do me the honours. Fuck me."

At your desperate demand Mammon was quick to action. "Anything you want, darl." He purred with a seductive drawl. The sin towered over you dangerously, leaning down to press loose kisses to your lips, slowly traversing his attention down toward your neck and collarbone. Where he licked and nipped against your skin widly. Desperate to hear the little gasps you'd let out from his dangerous attention.

He brought his hands away from your body, an action you whined against, but ultimately submitted to for you knew he removed his hands to fumble with the his pants, the piece of Fool themed garment that stood between you and getting what you wanted. 

Oh, and where you about to get what you wanted. 

Mammon brought himself toward you once again, pressing soothing and loving kisses to your lips as he aligned himself with your enternace. You felt the shaft of his cock rub against your slit tauntingly, bringing forth a mewl of pleading nature from your lips. The Prince chuckled darkly at that, which only lead to you pouting against his lips embrace. 

Mammon brought a pair of his hands down toward your hips once again, with another one moving upward to intertwine with one of your free hands which were held high above your head. With this position, melded close to his body so that he could nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck, he held you steady and began to sheath himself into you. 

Tears bubbled at the corners of your eyes, and you panted harshly. His enterance stung, it always did, he was so much larger compared to you so he had to be careful as to not pain you too much. The demon hushed your silent cries with a cautious nip to your neck, sinking his sharp teeth against your pretty flesh lightly in a weak attempt to subdue your other worries. His tongue flicked across your neck tauntingly, which resulted in a choked moan from your end. Slowly, the stinging which ran through your system melded into that of recreation and your pants of pain turned to pants of pleasure. 

He brought his head upward and gazed down at you yearnfully, hands kneading gentle circles into your hips. "Are you ready?" He inquired, voice soft with worry. He kept himself full inside you, concerned that the slightest of movement would hurt you. 

You took a second to catch your breath, swallowing thickly before nodding your head at his words. Offering a sly smirk in his direction.

He was slow, at first. Cautious as to how you would take him, he always was. He pulled his girth away from your tight channel all the way, before oncemore pushing himself back inside. Caught in awe at the whines and moans you'd echo outward at each thrust. 

He wanted to be easy with you, he really did. He wanted to be nice and slow so that he couldn't possibly hurt you, but, you just kept making such sweet sounds. Chanting his name like a mantra, worshipping him like the God he was. With each thrust you clenched around him tightly, milking waves of pleasure from him each time. He was a greedy, greedy man and he needed all of you at once, everything of you he could have. 

He brought his mouth back to yours in an attempt to taste you, letting his tongue explore the wonders of your mouth, but allowing enough space so that you could keep letting out moans and mewls each time he pounded into you. 

"You-- aah, you are so, so.." Mammon brought his mouth away from yours for just a moment, trying his hardest to muster up a compliment but was lost in the heat of the moment. He let out a breathless whine, before lowering his head to your neck once more. "You're fuckin' everything." 

You tried to respond, to thank him for his kind words or maybe make fun of him for being so sappy. However your words were lost in translation, turning into half-assed sentences amongst whines and gasps, too lost in a cloud of your own hot, burning pleasure to even think about functioning properly. 

"M--Mammon.." You mumbled, voice hoarse and raw from all your cries and pleas. You bucked your hips against his, trying to match his unwavering, borderline bruising pace to chase the high that was now building in your core. 

The demon lifted his head away from your neck, now locking eyes with you intently. Once again you were basked in a soft green hue, reflecting prettily against your sweat-lined skin, midly coated in the blood from where he had bitten your skin, and bruises from where he had given you hickeys. He grinned devilishly at his work, proud of the ways he had claimed your skin. 

Such thoughts seemed to snap something within him, pushing him over the edge. His thrusts grew rapid and desperate, even more so than before. You could feel a coil building in your core again, and he could tell you were just as close as he was from the way you clenched around him so tightly.

"I'm so- o--oh! I'm gonna.." You whined out your state to Mammon, urging him to keep at his needy pace.

Pleasure rolled through your system, burning your whole body overwhelmingly and tightening progressively. It bubbled under your skin before finally, as Mammon's thrusts grew irate, snapping. Your orgasm rocked your body almost painfully, leaving you limp and shaking, cunt clenching around him as he grew sloppy and lazy. Mammon whined needily as he spilt his cum inside you, grip against your hips and hand tightening and loosening unpredictably. 

There was a silent few seconds where you and Mammon simply stared at each other. Bodies still melded together in a spent, wheezing heap of fucked out demons. 

You cocked your head to the side with a sly grin, leaning up to place a sweet kiss to the corner of his cheek. "So, you wanted to talk about my shows in Lust?" 

Mammon groaned. His eyes rolling to the side sarcastically before he lowered his head to rest against your chest. Nuzzling into you softly. You brought a hand up to pet the top of his head lovingly. 

"I think we need to add some things to your work contract." 

#helluva boss x reader #mammon hb x reader #mammon hb #i need him so bad #helluva boss x reader smut #mammon hb x reader smut #i love him #lowk shitty but isnt it cool #mammon is so ooc #but its okayv #because i love hin

[fillinforlater]

When is the next part of Eleven to One: Hate You Lots coming? I am dying to see Chaewon become the next cum slut.

Eleven to One: What's to Hate?

Male Reader x Ahn Yujin, Kim Minju, Kim Chaewon

Length: 4294 words

Tags: Daddy kink, nudist kink, submission, teasing, teaser, trap, making out, passionate kissing, being watched, girl on girl kissing, girl on girl action, fingering, loss of voice, loss of mind, breeding kink, hate sex, choking, riding, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, emotional manipulation, degradation, emotional hurt, everything is fucked up af, doggy, breeding doggy, self-restraint, female orgasm, creampie, good_girls!Minju and Yujin / broken!Chaewon (?)

TW: degradation, hate sex, emotional manipulation, the story is already very fucked up, what are you still doing here lmao?

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for being my co-writer!

(A/N: Finally, another part to this... series. I don't even know how to describe it, but we'll go down a spiral and completely out of control lol. Here is the previous part btw, here is the rest of the series)

"Daddy, I found a letter in the mail."

Yujin's nude body slides through a small gap in your office door. Oh, what a life you're living. All your insane previous work hours reduced to two six hour shifts in your own apartments. Hyewon prepares, executes and delegates everything, you only need to check and sign. She is great and makes you millions in mere weeks.

"Thank you, Yujin. Put it on the pile with the others, right there." You point at a corner of your desk, but Yujin hesitates.

"I think this one is... special," she says and shows you the large envelope. "Look at this playful Emoji on it. Something seems to also bulge it, definitely not paper; something round I think."

"The Emoji looks more like a smiley, don't you think?" you ask, looking past the white, definitely filled envelope to your smocking hot girlfriend. She shrugs her shoulders, you almost believe her.

"Chaewon?"

"She'd never put a smiley on there for you!"

"Maybe she is mocking me?"

"Oh, Daddy," Yujin chuckles. "Just read it after work. I have to head out now, dance practice."

"Sure, but can I ask you a favor?"

Yujin turns around again and smirks. Her amazing thighs jiggle when she steps a bit closer again. You could ravage her every single fucking seconds of your life, if only that was a possibility.

"Yes, of course, Daddy~"

"Try to get both Chaewon and Minju here at 9pm—scratch that, 8pm. I want them both freshly exhausted."

Yujin ponders for a second, playing with her long hair, before leaning in close to your ear, her heat radiating straight to your face.

"Hm, I think I can arrange that."

#

���Hello? Yujin? I'm here."

Chaewon's loud voice comes from the front door of your apartment. It might still be enough to fill the vast confines of each room, but you can hear it slowly dwindle from hours and hours of vocal and dance practice. Surely she won't be able to keep this volume up for long.

"Should I call her?" Yujin whispers in your ear, obediently sitting on your thigh. 

"Let her look for you. Where is Minju?" you ask and take a look at your watch. 7:58. Interesting. Minju not being early isn't a surprise, but Chaewon being here before the time? She must have hurried.

"I told her to be here, 8pm flat," Yujin murmurs and fiddles with the collar of your shirt. You grab her wrists and look at her somewhat intensely.

"Try calling her. Hurry."

"Yujin! Where are you?" Chaewon calls again, then her voice cracks. "I don't want to play these games, not with this pig around—"

"What pig?" you shout back, making even Yujin shudder as she rushes towards your office to hide and look for a phone. "I do not allow such animals in this house."

You could practically hear Chaewon's face morph into a scowl at your voice. 

"You heard me! You're a pig. I am only doing this because Yujin invited me over!"

"Well then, come on in!" you sarcastically laugh back, making sure to be louder than her, to urge her not only to walk further into the trap, but also to raise her voice at you.

“Fuck you," Chaewon hisses and enters the living room. In the flickering light of your fireplace you see her hatred filled eyes stare at you. God, she tries so hard to kill you with just that look, but it's all futile. 

The white dress makes her look like an angel, a sweaty angel that has the fabric stuck to her small body. Her hair is a mess, her faint makeup is a mess, now her voice is a mess mess mess.

"Fuck you, where, where is she?"

"Oh," you mock her with a pout and reach for a glass of wine on a side table. "Your voice... you should drink something, hm?"

Suddenly, Yujin bursts into the room. Chaewon's features turn from gloomy to delighted, but just as quickly she just looks lost and, judging by the light pink hue on her round cheeks, horny. 

"She'll be here in a minute, Daddy," Yujin purrs and grabs the glass from your fingers. "Hi, Chaewon. Nice to see you~"

“Minju is a part of this too?" Chaewon asks. 

You ignore her and continue on. 

"I must admit, you do look quite stunning in that outfit. It's a pretty dress." 

"I'm not here for you to gawk at." 

"Hmm. No, I think it's quite the opposite." 

You turn your attention back to Yujin and motion for her to sit back on your lap and give you a sultry searing kiss. As she does, you fixate your eyes for one second on Chaewon. Oh, she is gawking. She is so focused on it, the way Yujin's bountiful curves melt into you, how willingly she becomes your good little baby girl, to be played with. You can hear her gulp and the revealing dress becoming too warm.

"Daddy, your tongue," Yujin quietly moans, trying to get more from you, but your ears have already picked it up: the arrival of Minju, hectic and clumsy as per usual. The front door crashes open, it hits the wall and almost comes back to haunt the poor girl.

"I-I'm here—Chaewon-unnie!?"

"Minmin, look at who I personally invited over,” you boast from your couch and take a final sip of wine. “You're right on time, but try to be early in the future." 

"Yes, Daddy! Oh, I want to kiss you too, Daddy..." Minju says with longing, seeing Yujin on your lap.

“No, Minju, don't," Chaewon barely crooks out past her dry lips, her gentle red lipstick almost peeling off of it. She uses the remnants of her energy to put both a foot and an arm in the large door frame, but it won't be enough. Her blockade is too small, Minju could still get past it. 

In desperation, Chaewon resorts to other means. She grabs her taller friend and with a knee between her legs pins her against the door frame. Minju yelps, her own hands trying to avert the attack.

"Please don't go to him! Stay here, stay w-with m-m-me..."

Endearing, it makes you feel like the heartless animal Chaewon probably envisions you being. A pig, greedy for only the most beautiful, submissive, willing girls, never stopping. No, Yujin isn't enough, perfection isn't enough. You need Minju, on you—but there is something even more fun right now.

"On second thought," you say in the general direction of the two, Yujin's saliva still fresh on your tongue, her soft fingers on your cheekbones. "Don't kiss me, Minju. Go kiss her. Kiss her now, right on the lips."

"Wha—" Chaewon stops to breathe.

"O-okay, Daddy."

Suddenly, the roles are reversed. The hands that pressed, the knee that pinned, the eyes that begged; the dynamic falters. Chaewon, only wanting Minju to look at her, can't bear the adorable, loving features coming closer, the puckered lips, oh they look so soft…

"Minmin, time to put your training to use. Make Chaewon feel good," you say gently as Yujin keeps kissing your neck. You watch the show unfold before you.

First a peck. Simple, disarming. Chaewon's weak arms bend more and more, she can't keep her friend away. Of course she wants this, but you cannot be the one in control of it. Feel adrenaline rush through your body as Chaewon caves in, nothing compared to Minju's unstoppable approach.

Secondly, the tongue. Minju's prise open her Unnie's lips and you hear, see, even feel her squirm and willingly lose the battle when Minju wraps her arms around her waist. Chaewon becomes one with the doorframe, seemingly one with Minju when their legs brush and tongues twirl like greedy tornados. Chaewon even follows Minju, when she backs off a bit and disconnects their lips—just to adjust her hair, smile brightly with her huge blush and dive back in.

You turn to Yujin in disbelief.

"How—since when is she so good? Our little Minmin..."

"We trained her well, I guess~" Yujin smiles lewdly, another torrent of sloppy kisses.

"You lewd slut. Get me out of these clothes."

"Of course, Daddy."

"Also..."

"Yes, Daddy?"

"You're still the best kisser, Yujin."

She smiles from ear to ear, her hand already popping open your buttons and belt.

"Thank you."

You allow Minju to keep pleasuring a little longer Chaewon, to bring the elder to the brink of bliss. Like the test ride of a new sports car, Chaewon gets to feel every extraordinary, expensive curve and benefit of what she can never have. Not when you’re still pulling the strings.

"Minju, you're such a good kisser," Chaewon says softly. 

"Daddy's been teaching me well and—" 

"That's enough Minmin,” you call her and consequently bring Chaewon down from cloud nine. “Come here." 

Minju merely nods and without a care in the world, she moves over to you as you plant a sloppy kiss on her lips. Chaewon’s hands tremble as if she’s feeling the withdrawal of a drug.

"Daddy, did I do well?" Minju gleefully asks.

"Yes you did, baby girl." 

"What the hell?" Chaewon's eyes glaring daggers. 

"Oh. Did you think Minju was into you? That she was enjoying it? Why don't you tell Chaewon the truth." You command Minju.

"Unnie, I," Minju hesitates, her stammer only interrupted by Yujin slurping on your cock and drowning it in her drool. "I like you but... you are not a g-good kisser. I liked yo-your fingers but Daddy and Yujin are—"

"No! They are using you!" 

Chaewon has lost her voice, tears spark in her orbs as she reaches for her throat. She wants to shout at you, scream her love back at Minju, but it hurts. It's not coming out.

"Minju," you groan, your voice teasing. "Why are you still wearing clothes?"

"Oh, sorry Daddy. I'll lose them asap."

"Very good. And then you can get your prize."

In the flash of an eye, Minju is naked, her clothes spread all over a tearful Chaewon and a cockhungry Yujin, who you quickly guide next to you on the couch.

"I give you a choice," you tell your girlfriend. "You can masturbate while watching us or you can try to keep your hands off your body and then I'll fuck you the whole night. Your call."

Yujin's eyebrows furrow. It's rare for her to not touch herself when naked on any occasion, but around you and her hot former bandmates and all the sex that's about to happen, it is close to impossible.

You don't think about her for another second. Minju finds her way on your lap, your stiff, lubed up rod in her always curious hands. Grab her by the waist and spin her around so she faces Chaewon. A disappointed moan.

"But I can't kiss Daddy like this."

"Just turn your head to the side, Minmin. I can kiss you from every angle. Now spread your legs and show her how I fuck y—"

"No, I don't—"

You interrupt Chaewon by spitting at her pathetic figure kneeling on the ground. Her nerves must have been broken; confusion, anger and never before felt horniness all wrestle for control in her delicate body while she can barely speak.

"You know what you need to do," you growl and push your cock upwards into Minju who desperately searches for your lips as groans escape her own. "But just watch, I guess."

You begin to pump into Minju and kiss her with pure lust and dominance. Her entire being submits to you, becomes obedient and willing to take your cock faster, harder, deeper—you know the drill and so does she. Minju’s lips have an addictive taste, it might stem from Chaewon, whose sweet loss you can (metaphorically, of course) nibble from her friend.

"Minmin, you know Chaewon loves you right? Like loooves you? How do you feel about that? Do you think you can ever love her back the same way?" 

"Yujin… make him stop..." Chaewon all but cries out.

Yujin however is in her own world. Her struggle is real, no matter how deep she digs her nails into the couch, they try to sneak back and touch her needy spots. The three aroused nubs, her clenching pussy, hell, her entire body has become an erogenous zone at this point. She reaches for some of Minju's clothes to maybe tie herself up, but all she finds are panties, stained with love juice and perfectly smelly.

Chaewon looks back at you as you ravage her friend. Your thrusts go harder, your grip on Minju's hips and tits gets tighter, your tongue licks faster—has it always been this close? Chaewon wonders, her eyelids flickering.

His cock is... right there. Oh God, she is taking it so well, Minju's pussy looks so good, so stretched... and her midriff is so smooth.

"I-I," Minju's screams get Chaewon out of her dream. "I loved Unnie! Her fingers, her lips, but... she has not been th-there for mee—

"Ah, Daddy, I'm cumming!"

In the midst of her climax, you pinch Minju's nipples and bite her ear. Your cock stretching her to the max, you ask:

"What do you love? Say it!"

"Daddy's cock! Daddy's cock is the best."

"I'll do it." Chaewon unzips her dress, face pale and blank, voice fragile and pleading. "I'll fuck you. Please."

"And then?" you respond, a babbling Minju unceremoniously dropped onto a still restraining Yujin, who shrieks at the touch of hot skin, sweat and saliva on her own scorching body.

"I—what more do you want?" Chaewon asks shakily. 

"You don't get it do you? I don't care if you fuck me or not. I don't need you. No. I want you to beg for it. I want you to realize whose fucking house you're in right now. Your Yujin is mine. And your Minju? She won't ever love you unless I give her permission. So first, you're going to apologize to me. You're going to get on the floor and beg me for forgiveness and then you're going to beg for my perfect fucking cock, Kim Chae-won."

Chaewon, struck by lightning, hesitates to respond. Whatever sentence her brain is scrambling to create, it's not a worthwhile response. In fact, nothing is. She is a puddle, absolutely destroyed by your authority, her every weakness now used against her.

All that can work now is taking action. Fighting back, literally.

In a single motion, Chaewon rises from the ground and the ashes of her dignity like a phoenix, digs her fingers into your jaw and pounces on your lap. There is a new fire in her eyes, blue flames of frustrated rage that show that she is indeed no celestial, but a woman filled with vengeance.

Panties pulled to the side, she guides your cock behind the curtains of her short dress and like a magician makes it disappear in her tight entrance. Feel that she is a lot wetter than last time right from the get go; her pain resistance due to your size seems to have risen as well.

What can you do in the face of this power, this unbridled will, her hips that smash down on you with the force of a falling anvil, the pointy ends of her nails in the skin of your cheeks, piercing like arrows, her hateful moans of victory? Chaewon will fuck you senseless, squeeze out every word of a long apology and show Minju that serving you is a waste of time. You're a pig after all.

At least that's what you make her believe.

Your face twists into a smile. 

"A whore who can't control her urges. Who is the pig now? C’mon then, fuck it out of me, if you think you can! I'll tell you what: If you make me cum before I make you cum, I'll release Minju back to you. You'll both be free to go and I'll never bother you again. 

"You're sick,” Chaewon hisses back. “I want Yujin free too." 

Yujin looks at you for a moment, wondering if you would really give her away like that, fingers on Minju’s body to distract her from the juices leaking out of her pussy.

"Listen here," you viciously whisper and pull away Chaewon's hand which bothers your face. "Try to get some leverage in this position, before making absurd demands. As of now, you have nothing on me."

"I-I'm on top," Chaewon moans, continuing to bounce on your cock.

"It means nothing. I can easily make you cum like this. I can also make you cum by folding you in half and pressing you into the couch or picking you up like a human fleshlight or... fuck, I could order your friends here to force a hundred orgasms out of you, all before you can even think of satisfying me.

"Do you understand, Chaewon? Earn yourself the spot above me, because right now, you're nothing but a toy."

Chaewon's face contorts in pleasure and embarrassment. She can't let these insults get to her, but at the same time, she gets off to them. Her pussy clenches around your cock, needily sucking it back in, wanting it to fuck upwards and claim every inch of her hot, velvety insides.

"At least your body is honest." You smirk.

"Wh-what—ah, no!"

You get a hold of Chaewon's hips, her dress spilling out of your hands as you hold her steady and thrust into her. Unlike before, you make sure to give her every inch every time. Chaewon's eyes roll up in her head, then down to your body, easily overpowering hers from below. Her voice breaks at every moan and scream, and she can't bear the sight of her friends, who look on closely. 

Their Unnie is becoming stupid for this cock.

Minju pouts sadly. 

"Chaewon-unnie, you should enjoy it. Daddy's perfect cock...it's the most special thing," Minju mumbles, drool in the corner of her pretty mouth.

"Unnie, maybe you should apologize to Daddy. He'll make you feel good," Yujin says sincerely.

"N-never! I-I will n-not—"

All it takes is you swiping her clit, found under her dress. The tiny bundle of nerves had it coming and now the fearless leader is cumming on your cock. However, it is not this grand, cathartic orgasm for her, just a demonstration of your power. Frankly, this is what you think Chaeeon deserves: A pleasureless loss, pathetic for the woman she wants to be. So much on the line, yet she did not even come close to achieving her goal.

In a well-timed outburst of your horny rage, you pull out of her and throw her on the couch. Giving Yujin a teasing brush on her flexed thigh and then a kiss because she needs to hold out just a little bit longer, you then focus on Minju.

"Get on top of Chaewon," you order. "I'm gonna fill you in Doggy for being a good girl."

"Thank you, Daddy," Minju excitedly says and once again traps Chaewon with her body.

You push inside Minju's sweet pussy and tug at her hair. 

"Minju, how would you feel if I bred you tonight? How badly do you want to be bred?" 

Yujin almost became distraught, before remembering her place and knowing this was a part of your plan. You wanted to show Chaewon what was truly yours. 

"Daddy… I don't know if I'm ready to raise a child, but I want to carry yours so badly," Minju whispers and looks right through Chaewon’s hazelnut eyes. 

Perfect. You would fuck Minju, break her while Chaewon would be right below her, helpless to watch as you filled Minju with your seed. 

"I want you to tell Chaewon the truth,” you tell Minju and caress her smooth back before pushing it a bit closer to Chaewon. “Then you can be filled to the brim."

"I want Daddy! I want his Daddy cock and his Daddy seed deep in my pussy! I want him to breed Minju every day!"

Minju has never clenched harder around your dick than at this moment. It's not a hyperbole, because for the first time you find it irresistible to not cum in another pussy that isn't your girlfriends'. This moment right here, this impeccable, cruel set up is Minju has finally becoming ethereal truth and beauty: on all fours, drooling on her former lover's face, sweat pouring out everywhere, nothing can fill her heart like you.

Fill her, you do. The way to Minju’s heart is through her desperate, empty pussy—try to rephrase that at a different time, because now, it’s quite befitting. The breedable girl won’t be able to keep herself upright for long, that’s the measurement of power for how hard your thrusts are. You don’t really want her to anyways. She is allowed to freely fall on top of Chaewon, who constantly fails to close her eyes to Minju’s face.

A face of desire, of pleasure; a tongue hanging out, hoping to suck the same cock that’s rearranging her insides—also something that should be rephrased. One day, but not today. Today you give Minju loving spanks for being the good, rod-taking girl that you and Yujin envisioned her to be. After the fifth slap, her legs go weak first, her midriff meets Chaewon’s, but her pussy still sucks you back in. Minju is thirsty.

Thirsty for cum, and you give it to her greedy pussy that wrings you viciously. Minju is a vacuum, getting your balls dry and although you make sure everything is dumped deep inside her cavern, huge amounts still drip out of her and onto Chaewon, who shrieks at every impact of cum on her skin.

You're still dreamy, Minju's deep breaths are the only thing audible to you, her ass the only thing in your line of view. It seems you forgot something, a promise you have made.

"D-Daddy!" Yujin calls for you and shakes your shoulders violently. "I haven't touched myself, please, please, please fuck me now! I'm a good slut, use me, fill me, I need your cock."

You turn towards her. This poor girl is standing there, shivering, her wrists awkwardly turned to prevent her from touching her already squeezing pussy. In a moment of thrill for you and catharsis for her, you grab Yujin's hand and pull her into your bedroom. The door shuts and moments later, Chaewon and Minju hear their Dongsaeng cum, loud and proud.

"Yujinie is—" Minju whispers, wanting to start a conversation, but Chaewon interrupts her. 

"A-are you really going to be pregnant?" Chaewon quietly cries out, tears and snort on her face. Minju props herself up and smiles down at her dear friend.

"To be honest," she starts and blushes. "No, I'm protected. But it feels so good, so right to say it."

"Th-that is fucked up, Minmin," Chaewon whimpers.

"Unnie, sex can be so much fun. Here, put your finger in me, like you used to! He feels so warm, and there is so much."

Minju guides Chaewon's fingers to her freshly fucked, leaking entrance and although she hesitates for a bit, Chaewon starts to finger more and more cream out of her friends cunt. Minju softly moans and they both watch a downpour of white fall on Chaewon’s navel in the middle of August. 

"I was unsure at first too," Minju continues and cups Chaewon's face. "But it can feel so good, the best feeling ever. I won't leave that. 

"I still love you, though. We all do. Yujin and Eunbi-unnie and Hyewo—"

"What do you me—oh my God."

Suddenly, Minju kisses the beyond shocked Chaewon before the latter loses her mind to the most absurd scenario that is imaginable but also so immoral, it should not be. Instead Chaewon melts into Minju's lips and decides to stay quiet. She could never be part of such a fucked up game, it’s just wrong, filthy, absolutely disgusting. He is such a pig!

"Unnie, come here more often. Daddy can be so soft, he will train you, you will be better at sex and one day, he will cum in you and you will love it.

Minju, you are out of your mind… but what if—

"Trust me~"

#

The luxury of getting up at 11am and still making more money than most people do in their life time should be appreciated by you, but instead you whine over the fact that after three more rounds with Yujin after the initial, massive filling of Minju and eight hours of sleep, you have to get back to ruling your business empire. 

That's when you find the envelope Yujin brought yesterday. You finish a boring phone call and pick it up, still very much unsure of what the round thing inside it is. Tear it open and a letter slips right out—along with a cute little collar. Intrigued you begin to read while you pick up the round object.

Dear you,

yes, you. Yujin told me that you exist. You're her boyfriend and although she doesn't talk about you often, I can tell she really loves you. You seem like a very wise person, especially when you can get along with Yujin.

I wanted to ask you something: could we maybe chat a little? Talk face to face? I know it's a weird request, but I kinda want someone to talk to right now. I feel I can trust you, more than other people around me. If you can keep your relationship with Yujin a secret, this will be easy-peasy, right?

Feel free to talk with Yujin about this first, but you both keep quiet! I don't want the others to be worried.

Thank you very muchie!

Signed

Yena, meow

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #izone smut #male reader #male reader smut #ive smut #le sserafim smut #lesserafim smut #chaewon smut #yujin smut #minju smut #ahn yujin smut #kim minju smut #kim chaewon smut #2kim smut

[kleftiko]

❦ DANCE, DANCE

cw: mature, fem!reader, unprotected sex, cowgirl position, creampie, inexperienced!loser!shigaraki, degradation, hair pulling

it’s missing loser shigaraki hours✌️😔

“i only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me”

shigaraki lay slumped on his back. the stupid artist gloves on his hands were bugging him. he wore them every night but for some reason he kept picking at the wrist, slivers of red, irritated skin sent jolts of pain every time he scratched at it. he felt like a failure—pathetic. today had been a complete disaster and he didn’t want to face all for one like this.

the door to his room creaked open, interrupting his self deprecation. his bored eyes followed the movement to meet your head poking through the entrance. hair pushed back to show your face to him; he nearly huffed.

“what do you want.”

your eyes held an emotion that made him absolutely furious. pity. you were there to witness his defeat upon returning to base all busted and bruised; you had watched him nearly throw a tantrum at his failure of a mission, sulking and hitting things like a petulant child. the reminder made him bite the inside of his cheek harshly.

“if you say any pitiful shit, i’ll kill you.” he warned, a slight growl to his tone, and you frowned. wordlessly, you opened the door the rest of the way, revealing your bare body in nothing but your panties.

“no sympathy?” you asked and watched his adam’s apple bob harshly. his eyes bore into your body, gaze so intense you could practically hear the pounding of his heart from across the room reverberating against your uncovered skin.

god, he was so pathetic.

and you fed off it, but he didn’t care. he liked to think he let you saunter into the room towards him, when in reality you had him paralyzed with lust.

in a moment you were mounted on top of his lap; his favourite position. his hands could greedily grab at the fleshy parts of your ass, his face could smush itself between your boobs, and your hot pussy would grind on his—painfully hard—clothed cock. all he could do in the moment was desperately and sloppily suck at your tits, biting occasionally so you’d hiss at him and pull his hair as punishment. it was at that time that he didn’t care about the artist gloves anymore, if they let him grab handfuls of your ass and use you to get himself off then he didn’t care.

“you’re such a pervert, aren’t you.” your nails carded through his hair, scratching against his dry scalp, and he whined involuntarily. “throwing a little tantrum when you get home just so i would pity fuck you, huh?”

he never let anyone talk to him like that. one disrespectful word and he would have their ashes crumbling between his fingers within a second, but with you? you spit harsh, pathetic, and degrading words to his face and all he could do was spill precum from his aching, throbbing cock. you were the only one who knew he was this pathetic, never having felt the touch of a woman before you. but still, he had to try and fight back for the sake of his crumbling pride.

“watch it.” he growled, voice lifting at the end as you pulled the band of his boxers down to free his dick. “you want me to turn you to dust?”

You looked directly into his eyes.

“do it.” you challenged, moving your underwear to the side and sheathing his stiff cock inside you.

his head hit the wall harshly behind him as you bounced, losing all the bravado he tried to front in favour of releasing deplorably pitiable sounds and grabbing at you desperately.

“as if anyone would give you their pussy anyway.” you bit, mouth curling up at how quickly he crumbled. “you wanna kill the only person in the world who would fuck you? be my guest and go back to your fist.”

he whined at your words, bucking his hips up and disrupting your rhythm. you harshly tugged his hair back, jolting his neck in a whiplash-like fashion—silently telling him to behave.

it’s a miracle he listened, but you could feel the restraint he put into not sloppily fucking you, his body practically shaking. you knew if you let him, he’d unskilfully thrust into you without rhythm. he didn’t know how to fuck, but with you in charge you could utilized his thick cock and get yourself off like a toy. his fingers dug into your hips painfully, eyes screwed shut in both pleasure and an attempt to hide his tears from you, and you knew he was close. his pathetic mumbling and incoherent whines only spurred you on as you whispered condescendingly, “you okay, boss?”

you slapped a hand brutally over his chapped lips, muffling the loud, wanton, moan he let out as he spilled inside you. His body shook with his orgasm, twitching like he’d never came before from someone else’s ministrations. bouncing slowly now, he let out a string of curses at the overstimulation as you came to a stop.

“fuck.” he breathed.

as you looked down at his pathetic stature, you couldn’t help but think he was adorable—completely fucked out every time you finished with him. soft pants escaped his lips, and his eyes fluttered open, gazing up at you with a haze of ecstasy. you couldn’t help but lean down and capture his lips, tongue slipping into his mouth as his hands came up to cradle your face desperately.

he wanted to stay like that, cock softening inside you as you slowly made out, but you didn’t allow it. instead, you let go of him and slipped off his dick, a trail of his cum leaking out of you before you fixed your underwear. you always left him in a mess of his own cum, knowing he was too burnt out to do anything about it.

“see you tomorrow, boss.”

#mha imagines #mha x reader #mha headcanons #mha smut #mha fanfiction #mha shigaraki #shigaraki smut #bnha shigaraki #bnha x reader #bnha smut #shigaraki thirst #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tenko #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki headcanons #shigaraki x reader

[netherfeildren]

At the Restaurant

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: It’s three days til Christmas, and you’ve never known want like this, and his eyes are glossy with emotion and everything he won’t ever let himself tell you or anyone else, and you so badly want to tell him that it’s only that it’s hard to be casual when your favorite bra lives in his dresser, and also that you’re in love with him.

-OR-

the Christmas situationship AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Modern AU; Christmas fic; Angst; Fluff; Miscommunication; Emotionally unavailable idiots; But also idiots in love; Toxic relaationships; Situationship; There is nothing well adjusted about any of this pls don’t come into this house if that’s what you’re looking for; Trigger warning for man with an avoidant attachment style; Condolences to all my fellow victims of The Situationship; Size Difference; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Oral Sex (F!Receiving); Frankly some pretty pathetic behavior; Girl stand UP; Fuckboy Din; Plan B and Delusion as a form of birth control; Pull and pray baby pull and pray; Possessive Behavior; Jealousy; Insecurity; Trigger warning for Right Where You Left Me by Taylor Swift references

A/N: Hello and welcome to my contribution to the holiday fic pool! This is not at all what I was planning as my holiday piece, but I woke up a few mornings ago and was just completely taken hold by this. Much love and thanks and gratitude and all the kisses in the world to my friend @f0rlornmyths for all the help on the idea and brainstorming and for the gorgeous edits she made for this little story. Mai baby, this is all for you, and I know it's not the Christmas gift I promised you, but I swear, one day that too will get written.

I’m wishing you all the happiest and most relaxing of holiday seasons. I think of you all constantly and wish you all the best always, and I hope you’re taking care of yourselves during this time ❣️🎄✨

Word Count: 8.2K

Read on AO3

He gets this sparkle in his eyes when the bar’s extra busy, cheeks flushed and curls damp with sweat and this shine that speaks; that tells of all the things he does that make a woman belong to him whenever he’s giving her his singular attention. Eyes that laugh and crinkle at the edges with happiness. Eyes that tell you how much he does or does not want you at that specific moment. And he’ll laugh and blind the room into seduction under the Christmas lights, and then he’ll turn, suddenly remembering you’re here for him, and look at you all serious-like, while you sip on your tequila soda, with two limes always because he knows that’s how you like it, and it’ll be a serious, cool look for just a second before it blooms into the best smile anyone’s surely ever had in all history, and you love him. 

It’s three days til Christmas, and you’ve never known want like this. You’ve never practiced restraint of this kind either. A restraint that suffocates and kills and could probably be taken as a form of self harm were you in a righter, more clear mind, but it’s the only thing you have left against him. Din. A control over yourself that falsely feeds you the illusion of power. You never call him. Never. Any interaction, any late night fuck, any time he comes over and comes inside you, it’s always, always because he calls you, he looks for you. You never beg, not with words at least, and you never text first and you never ask him if you can see him, and it’s the only way you tell yourself you maintain even a semblance of control. And at night, when you’re alone and it’s dark and you’ve only got the cat for some sad company, or you’re crying in bed because he hasn’t called, and you know he’s not at work and he’s obviously not at home, so he’s somewhere you don’t want him to be, that false sense of control that says you’re never the one reaching out, it’s always him coming around so surely that must mean something… it’s all you have at the end of it. 

He’s not your boyfriend. He never has been. And there’s always been that excuse you use to soothe yourself with of, well, we’ve never really talked about it, and he’s not really my boyfriend, so it doesn’t really matter. Does it? Doesn’t it? You’re sure you don’t know anymore. And you tell yourself, lie to yourself, comfort yourself, whatever it is your tired heart needs in that moment, because it truly is so tired, the push and pull is the most exhausting game in the world, that if he’s coming to you it’s because Din’s choosing you. Even if just for a night, even if just for now, even if tomorrow he’ll be with someone else, he chose you for tonight, and so surely that must mean something. It’s the worst thing you do to yourself, but it feels so good in the moment. You just can’t help yourself. 

“Another one?” He calls over his shoulder with a smile.

 You’d had a little bit of a… well, you don’t really know what to call it. A falling out, perhaps, because the two of you never have fights. You never fight, you never discuss the things the two of you should discuss, like feelings or anger or resentment or boundaries and wants and needs. Nothing. Nothing that indicates anything that might define what it is the two of you’ve been doing for two years with each other now. Fights are something couples do, and you two are not a couple. But up until three days ago, you’d not heard from him for two weeks. Two weeks of nothing, of hearing from your friends that they’d seen him out with his friends and other girls who you know probably mean nothing, even less than you do, but still. It’d made you insane. A little bit irrational, and so when you and your friends had gone out over the weekend, picked up a group of guys at the new bar you’d chosen for the night, since Din’s bar was off limits at the moment, and brought them back to your apartment at your roommate, Bo’s, insistence, well, you’d thought you’d give him a taste of his own medicine. After a slightly tipsy, teary eyed rant, explaining to your new friend for the night, a one Toro Calican, who had a very nice smile and very pretty eyes and not at all bad arms, all about your terrible situation with this man who you were not really in a relationship with, but who you have sex with, and only with him, regularly, unprotected, enthusiastically, but who is still not your boyfriend and not even anything close, he’d arranged himself very nice and cozy-looking in your bed with your twinkly lights sparkling in the background and your pink pig stuffy which Din loved to make fun of you for, and you’d taken a very tasteful, in your opinion, picture of him for your Instagram story. Again, a taste of his own medicine. 

Din had been at your front door forty five minutes later, angry. Angrier than you’d ever seen him before, and not at all trying to hide it. Pushing past you and into your apartment all tall and broad and wearing your favorite dark blue hoodie he knows you love, curls mused as if he’d been pulling his fingers through them in agitation. There’d been a sneaky, smarmy little devil inside of you doing a happy dance at that moment, and his eyes when he’d turned to glare at you after giving poor, Toro – casual, entirely unbothered, Toro with his big smile stretched across his handsome face as he’d looped an arm over Bo’s shoulders where he’d been sitting beside her on the couch – a look that said Din had half a mind to take him outside and wipe the floor with him. But your new friend had laughed him off, taking Din’s terribly cocky onceover, the sort he liked to set people down with, in stride. All arrogance and the sort of self assuredness only a man who knew what he was made of and how to take care of himself could possess. He was too hot for his, or your, own good. 

And when he’d turned and pushed you into your bedroom, a little tipsy, a lot desperate and pleased and wet, because yes, finally you were getting exactly what you wanted, exactly as you’d asked for it, and he’d flipped your skirt up and ripped your panties down and buried his face in your cunt from behind, all: this pussy’s mine, what the fuck was another dude doing in your bedroom? You’d been nothing but pleased giggles and hiccupy little moans as you’d come on his tongue just as he’d demanded of you. 

It was wrong. The two of you were wrong and maybe even bad for each other, but also, and this was only your own personal, fanciful discernment, addicted. A mutual addiction. The way he fucked you, hard and deep and possessive, like you belonged to him. Tugging you up by the hips and pulling you back onto his hard cock, the wet slap of your pussy dripping for him so that it surely echoed through the thin door of your shitty little apartment for the man who’d threatened what Din saw as rightfully his could hear exactly what was happening in here. You should have cared more about this ridiculous display of a pissing contest. You should have been bothered by it. You absolutely were not. And when he’d gone harder than stone, shoved deeper than you could comfortably take him so that you were coming around his cock one last time from the stretch and sting of it, and he’d filled you to leaking without even asking, you’d not even blinked at it, had been nothing but contented sighs.

It was all wrong, wrong, wrong.

Even worse, you’d never been on birth control. It made you sick, tired, moody, and the two of you worked around it… sometimes… kind of. Condoms when you remembered, usually ripped off mid fuck, pulling out… also sometimes. Never very responsible or dedicated to the practice of safe sex and level headedness, more focused on how fucking good it always felt when he was inside of you like this all bare and wet and hot and his. And if he fucked other girls, well, you tried not to think about that. Got tested, told yourself you were the only one he didn’t use protection with because you were special when they were not. And if there was, that last horribly misguided whisper that said, well, if he’s taking this risk with you, then obviously that means something too, right? Then so be it.

Again, like you’d said, bad for each other. 

But he always gave you so many reasons to be stupid, delusional, like the way he’d kissed you before he’d gone the morning after, while you were still sleepy and warm and a little sweaty from where you’d been pressed together so close through the night, wet and sticky between your legs from his come. He’d wrapped his arms around you and pressed you so, so close to his chest, nipples bare and tight against hard muscle and wispy hair. The musky sleep smell of him as he’d started at your shoulder, mouth slow and damp, kissed and nibbled his way up your collarbone, your throat, your jaw, settled at your ear to taste that soft place behind, pressed his tongue there to feel the echo of your pulse moving through your whole body, the flutter of his long lashes against your skin because he’s just that close. Your toes had curled and spasmed, little and cold, bracing against his hairy shins and big feet, hard cock nestled between the warmth of your thighs. And he always makes the best sounds, you know, deep and rumbly and all man. Familiar sounds that you’re able to replay again and again in your mind afterwards when he’s gone, sounds that make it easy for you to pretend he’s yours because you know them so well, and you want to keep him so bad it makes your stomach hurt. Gotta go get the kid, he’d said, by way of explanation for why he wasn’t pushing up into your come soaked cunt and having you one more time again, but he’d stayed and kissed you. And when he’d finally found his way to your mouth, sipping on you, tasting behind your teeth, along the wet of your tongue, that was all that really mattered anyway. 

Sometimes, he kisses you like he loves you, and it makes you hate him. 

He hadn’t called in the three days since then, but he’d been kind enough to DoorDash you a Plan B and a bag of your favorite Dove dark chocolate bites, and you want to hate him and maybe even run him over with you car, you really do, but then tonight, out of nowhere while you’d been at home telling yourself you weren’t going to cry, tired and sweaty from lying under your duvet for too long, fingers slippery between cunt and cotton, too many unsatisfying orgasms and a tear worthy film already chosen as your excuse for later, he’d sent a: come to the bar tonight, baby, I want to see you. And well, he’d come looking for you, right? He’d texted first. So really, this was all him wanting you and choosing you.

You need help, electroshock therapy, a lobotomy, anything. But you’d gotten your butt up and dressed, begged Bo to come out with you, and now here the two of you sit, good friend that she is, waiting for him to finally come over and say more than three stringed together words to you. Shaved, lotioned, perfumed, pathetic little ass sitting at the end of his bar in a too sticky, too uncomfortable stool waiting for him. Always waiting for him.

You shake your head no at him and his proffered next round. No you don’t want another fucking drink. What you want is his attention. 

And the worst part is, probably the worst, for there are so many bad parts to this, is that you don’t truly think he’s a terrible person, Din. He’s just so… he’s just– you don’t know. Sad, busy, exhausted, selfish, overwhelmed, so many things. But not bad, not actually a bad person. You’re sure of it. And it might look so differently from the outside, like you’re nothing, like he uses you, and sure, in ways, he does. You’re not so stupid or naive to not see this for what it is, because if there is one thing that is crystal clear here, it’s that you’ve always known what this is and what it is not. But you also see him. You also know him, as hard as he’s tried to keep you at arms length, to not let you see, to not let you in, you’ve weaseled your way inside anyways, or, better said, and something you don’t let yourself dwell on too much for the things it makes your stupid brain and heart feel, he has never been very good at not letting you see him. Because despite all the truths of how this thing between the two of you is, or is not, there is also something, as small as it may be, that is real here. 

So no, Din is not bad, or not all bad. And it’s easy to call them excuses, but you’re not so sure that’s the only thing they are, the ways in which you justify his behavior or yours. Because there is also context to him, and his life, and the things that drag his attention away from you when you so desperately need and want it, why you know he won’t commit to one single thing because he knows how easily lost a good thing can be. 

You take a pull from your straw, paper, and it’s already coming apart in wet flakes on your tongue because this dumb bar he works at pretends to be swanky, and paper straws are obviously a signifier that it’s not the cheap, shitty dump it actually is. Mean, but you’re in a bad mood tonight. Peli, the owner, had him string up multicolored lights and decorations everywhere for the holiday season, and it sort of looks like Santa threw up in here, but it’s also nice. Cozy or comfortable or welcoming, something happy and cheerful about the crowd surrounded by the sparkle of the holiday and loose from the heavily poured liquor. Or maybe it’s just that you know he put up the decorations. That he’d been good and patient and helpful as the older woman, eccentric and curly haired and a little stern and potty mouthed as she is, but always kind to him, had directed him as she pleased. Giving orders so that the bar could look as lovely and warm and cheerful as it does now. He always looks at her with such care and warmth, and you alway see it, as much as he tries to hide it. 

He’d added a splash of sweet grenadine and a maraschino cherry into your drink tonight, and called it your slutty Shirley Temple, said you looked like you needed something sweet followed by one of those cocky little winks he thinks make him look hot, they do, but you tell him only make him look like an asshole. All of which you know is only his way of telling you, without actually telling you, that he’s going to be shoving his cock down your throat later tonight. Something sweet… yeah, sure. There’s nothing sweet about him. 

He always tells you so many things neither of you want the other to know with his eyes. The stupid things, the silly things, the real things, it doesn’t really matter. He can’t ever help it. 

The first time he’d told you about his parents, you’d thought: this is it, this is something real. The come down had been a singular type of devastating you don't think you’d recovered from to this day. They’d died in a home invasion, a robbery gone terribly, terribly wrong, when he’d been two months shy of eighteen; left him with too much responsibility and too much grief for a boy of seventeen to bear, to ever be able to grow into without growing a little bit skewed in the process. When he’d introduced you to his little brother, the first time, you’d been better prepared, better in control of yourself and your expectations. But still, still you’d let a small, small part of you let it mean something. Grogu, Greg, but they used to watch this cartoon together about this man, a warrior, a space cowboy of sorts, who finds a little green baby, more frog looking than baby looking, called Grogu and takes him in as his own, bringing him along on all his adventures through the big, wide galaxy. They’d always joked that Greg looked like the frog baby, and so, Grogu. 

The first time he’d asked you to come over, you’d forced yourself to not throw up as you’d seen the text come in, had to force away thoughts of this has to mean something, please, please, let this mean something more. And the kid had been asleep already anyways when he’d smuggled you inside, quick and quiet, locking the door to his bedroom behind you, messy and lived in and Din, Din, Din everywhere, pressed you into his rumpled mattress, and fucked you til you’d cried and bit your tongue until you’d tasted blood to keep in all the things you had inside to tell him. And in the morning, when he’d made you a cup of coffee and oh, isn’t he nice for that? The kid had stumbled out of his bedroom, dinosaur pj’s and sleep rumpled curls the same warm mahogany shade as his older brother’s turned pseudo father, and he’d had his waffles while you’d sat there between the two of them as Din’d clucked around making lunches, sipping from your mug trying as best you could to be a good girl and not whip around and scream at the man that this has to mean something more, please. 

The kid had eyed you skeptically, as if you’d had two heads, little fuzzy brow cocked high up towards his curl covered hairline while he chomped loudly on his waffles. More syrup than bread, but who were you to judge? 

“Are you Din’s girlfriend?”

And rather than drop dead on the spot or bear the devastation of hearing the refusal come out of his older brother’s mouth, the second you’d seen Din’s own eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, mouth falling open to probably tell him no, absolutely not, she’s nothing even close to being my girlfriend, you’d said as easy as you could manage, “No, we’re just friends.” Even added in a fake, tepid smile as you’d said the words. And now, as time’s passed since then, when you think back on the memory, you tell yourself that you’d imagined the frown and scowl that’d pulled Din’s face down into something that looked a little like annoyance or anger or confusion. He’d never done anything to make you think you were anything otherwise, and so what good did it do to dwell on the maybe false memory of his look of disappointment at your words? None at all, surely. 

But you’re pretty sure you’re the only girl that’s ever been let into their space like that.

He’s at the other end of the bar now, engrossed in a conversation with someone who’s too sparkly and too pretty and too blonde to be anything but trouble for you. His tall, deceptively lanky form that you know beneath the dark baggy, long sleeved tee he’s wearing is strong and muscled and warm as a furnace, curved over the lip of the bar to lean further towards her. They’ve been talking for about five minutes now, yes, you’ve been counting, and your heart is doing that horrible thing it does where it hurts so bad it feels like it’s ripping in half all on its own. You want to look away, especially as you watch the long, gorgeous form of his hand, big, strong hands that you know exactly what they feel like wrapped around your throat, clutching your breasts, lift slowly towards the glowing Christmas lights necklace the girl’s got hanging around her neck, the cheery red and green lights nestled deep in her cleavage. He plucks at the necklace, giving it a little tug and says something to her that has her throwing her head back, and she sparkles, she really does, with those sort of laughs that tinkle like bells or something equally fucking ridiculous.

“We should just go, babe,” Bo says from beside you, glaring down at him so intensely you’re shocked he hasn’t keeled over dead at this point. 

“Just a little bit longer, Bo, please.” 

“God, I can’t watch this shit anymore.” She pushes up and out of her stool with a roll of her eyes, but passes a loving hand down the back of your hair as she goes. “I’m gonna go try and pick up that red head sitting in the back. She’s been eyeing me all night,” she smirks at you. 

“You cannot date another ginger. That is too much ginger for one household.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re in love with the devil, I can do whatever I want. And I can’t watch him anymore, I don’t have the stomach for it.”

You try and protest as she walks away from you, tell her that you’re not in love with him, that he’s not the devil, that you don’t have the stomach for it either, but she’s gone before you can muster your lies. When you turn back towards the bar he’s abandoned his Christmas lights blonde and is pouring drinks for a group of frat guys, checking I.D.s and making easy, charming conversation. He’s strange in that way, quiet and reserved by nature, which you know now because you know him, but he puts on a face in here, in Peli’s bar in front of the customers and the pretty girls and the people expecting him to perform for them, making nice and pleasant. It’s just one more thing that feeds your delusion, the fact that you see his smile for what it is, the too handsome, too shiny version you know isn’t the real one. 

You know that despite the fact that Bo loves you, she also thinks you’re a little sad, a lot weak, when it comes to him. Maybe even, and you know she’d never say this because she’s a good and loving friend, but maybe even a little pathetic or desperate. And maybe you are, or definitely, you don’t really care about the details of it at this point, but maybe there’s also something about him that’s slightly desperate too. Desperate for love or attention or companionship. Maybe that’s why he always feels the need to search for it in so many different places. Maybe he wants it so bad he’s scared of it. Or maybe he’s just easy. Maybe he’s just a whore. 

You don’t know if the why’s of it all really matter anymore. 

He serves the group their shots and beers, all of them clinking their glasses together loudly, hooting and wishing each other a Merry Christmas, and you want to snap that it’s not Christmas yet, it’s still the twenty third, it’s a special day that should be remembered, but you turn away. Try to swallow the heat in your face and throat, take deep breaths. Bo’s right, the two of you should go, but when you turn to search for her, she’s deep in conversation with the red head, gorgeous, strong and tall and just her type. Their two heads huddled closely together beneath the red lights that turn their hair both brighter shades of auburn. And you know you can’t interrupt. At least one of you should have a good night tonight. But when you turn back around, ready to join the frat bros in on their shots, he’s there. 

You swivel in your stool, catching yourself on the lip of the bar, digging your nails into the wood grain until it hurts, staring at him in silence. 

“What?” he asks with that slightly provoking smile he forces on you when he knows you’re bothered and refuse to open your stubborn mouth and just speak up. 

“Nothing.” Stubborn, sullen. Terrible.

He hums, laughter dancing in his eyes that pisses you off. He knows you’re bothered, knows you won’t say anything about it either. “Want another?”

“Sure.” You might as well get drunk if you’re going to have to watch him be a jackass all night long. 

He starts to move about, gathering the things for your cocktail. “You like the grenadine I added?”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

He looks at you with a half smile and a cocked brow as he measures the shot. He never makes your drinks as heavy handed as the others, says you’re a bad drunk. Whatever. “Yeah? You like the Christmas decorations?”

“They’re nice.” He hums again at your sullen tone. And you want to be nicer, happier, peppier, whatever it is that would be enough to make this all right and better between the two of you, inside of you, but you just can’t. You can’t force yourself into a shape that’s okay with being without him, and it’s getting harder and harder to pretend it’s something you’re capable of. 

He adds your two limes and tops the drink off with a Santa printed mini umbrella Peli had gotten an order of in bulk, pushing the glass into your hand. He braces his hands against the bar edge, watching you as you bring the drink up to taste, peering over the edge to keep your eyes on him. The lights twinkle over head, washing him in a glow of greens and reds and warmth, and his eyes do that terrible sparkle you hate in return. 

Sometimes you think he likes it when you’re pissy. Turns him on or something which sickly, stupidly, in turn, riles you up, knowing he’s turned on by your anger. 

You take a long pull of the fizzy, mildly sweet drink, licking your lips of the tang and bubbles when you pull it away, and watch as his eyes go a little hazy, glassed over as he watches the wet of your tongue peek out to lick up the drops of sweet liquor. You watch a swallow pass through the strong column of his throat, and his gaze is still on your mouth when he cocks his head at you. “C’mere,” he murmurs, eyes shifting to take in the crowd, the customers and the status of their drinks before he’s tugging at your hand over the bar, drawing you out of your seat and along the length of it from the other side. 

“To where?” You whisper at him, nerves of excitement, of want, fluttering in your belly and throat all fizzy and sweet. He tips his chin at the cracked open door of the stock room, the warm glow from within peering out, and then back again once over at the crowd before you’re at the end of the bar, and he’s tugging you inside after him. You tip your chin over your shoulder just before he kicks the door shut behind you, taking in Peli’s knowing look and the laughing shake of her head, and then it’s just the two of you. Hungry and hurried as he’s pulling you into himself, big hands immediately cupping your ass to tug you up into him with a cracked groan. “Want to fucking kiss you so bad,” he licks into your mouth, tasting like the coffee he drinks too much of and the cinnamon gum you know he’s always chewing. 

“Din–” and you’re about to protest, say that everyone’ll have seen the two of you come in here, Peli, the blonde Christmas light girl, that the whole bar is going to think he brought you in here for a quick fuck, but you and he both know you don’t really care if anyone thinks that. That probably, if you’re really honest, you’d be glad for everyone to think you’re his that way. So you kiss him back. Arms looping around his neck to hang off of him, fingers twining in the thick curls at the nape of his neck, the hair there so silky smooth, cool at the ends but warm and damp at the roots. And this is what you were talking about, when he kisses you like he loves you which makes you hate him. All tongue and teeth and desperation. His mouth sliding against yours, spit slick and heat heavy. Big hands kneading at your ass, clutching at the short skirt of your dress, pulling it up so he can shove his palm between the nylon of your tights and your warm skin and cup you over the wet mound of your cunt. 

“Fucking warm and soft for me, baby.” He kisses his way down your neck, licking at your cleavage, tugging at your ear. “You smell so good,” and he squeezes you against himself, dragging his palm back and forth over your pussy as best as the constricting tights let him. “I can’t wait to fuck you later.”

“Me either, Din,” you say because there’s nothing else to say besides, I love you. Please, love me back. He groans into your mouth, pressing you back into a little arc hooked over his arm, something frenzied and a little sloppy about the way he kisses you like he wants you so much he can’t control himself. And when the two of you stumble out a few minutes later, hair tousled and flushed with heat, the shine of your lipgloss transferred onto his own lips and those sparkly eyes of his cranked up to blinding so that the whole bar can see what it is the two of you have been up to in the stock room, there’s nothing but sweet, fizzy pleasure suffusing your belly. Even if it isn’t real, everyone else thinks it is, maybe for tonight that can be enough. 

-

“The tree’s really cute,” you say as he helps you out of your coat, unwrapping the scarf from around your neck, round and round until he lets it slither from his hand onto the messy floor of his bedroom. 

“Yeah, well, G wanted a real one so… my ass went out and got him a real one.” 

You reach up to card your fingers through the floppy curls falling over his forehead, pushing them back to twist in your fingers and pull his head down towards yours. “Good brother,” you murmur against his mouth. You want to ask him if he remembers what tonight is; wanted to ask him all night but kept your mouth shut for fear of that utterly vacant look in his eyes when he’d have no idea what you were talking about. 

He settles into your kiss, knees bent to come down to your level, sighing deep and long as he licks at you slowly, sucks on your bottom lips, a gentle nip. “Looked so pretty for me tonight,” he says, and he’s such a good kisser, and all you can say is a breathless thank you, trying to swallow the immediate lump in your throat back down because the only other thing to say would be you’re right, it’s all for you, or I hate it when you say these things to me, I hate it when you’re nice to me and then turn around and act like I’m a stranger, like I’ve never meant anything to you at all. You press up higher, insistent, on your tiptoes, trying to get closer, more of him. He runs his hands up the length of your spine, one arm banding around your waist, the other coming up to twist in your hair, tugging your head back sharply and pulling your mouth from his. 

“What do you want, sweet girl?”

And what a cruel, terrible question. You, is what you should say. Ruin the moment or the false magic, glass shattered on the white cloth. And so, “Fuck me,” is all you say instead because that’s all this is anyway. He peers down at you, fathomless look on his face, no more bright sparkle in his eyes, something more like an ember. You think you like this look better, it’s more for you, and there's something satisfying about that. 

“Okay, baby. Whatever you want.”

He pulls your clothes from you slowly, and he can be so tender sometimes, slow and precise in the things he does, the way he moves. Sometimes he fucks you hard and fast and sloppy. But not always. Other times he does it in a way that is much, much worse. Slow and deep and intentional. He lays you out across his messy bed and spreads you open for himself. Starts at your feet, kissing the soles and the creases and marks over the arches and around your ankles from your tights and boots. Up the slope of your calf, teeth dragging sharply, a little too hard over the muscle. He kisses the backs of your knees, a place only he has ever thought to kiss, and you won’t cry, but you’d like to. His tongue along the soft of your thighs, stubble chafing and tickling, and when he finally gets to your cunt, soaking wet, glossy with your slick for him, his tongue drags up your slit slow and teasing one second, deep, fucking inside of you the next. He makes you come on his face twice before he even thinks of being nice and letting up. Sucking on your clit, taking each soft lip gentle, gentle between the edge of his teeth and tugging so soft you almost don’t feel it. He licks and licks and slurps up your wet, and you know he enjoys this because of his own sounds. When he rips his t-shirt over his head because he’s steaming with sweat and want, the zip of his jeans ringing so that he can get his fist around his cock and jack himself while he licks up the splash of your second orgasm. 

He kisses you everywhere when he’s had his fill, twists and turns you this way and that, groping and kneading and taking every inch of you in so that no spot of skin is left uninspected or untasted. Pulls you up and under his arm so he can peer down at you from behind, lemme look at that little asshole now, he says all nasty the way he gets sometimes, and spreads your cheeks apart. You brace yourself against the column of his throat and hold on to the bulge of his bicep and try and breathe through your mouth and pray for control and temperance and the will to not spill all your truths to him. Difficult, when he manhandles you like this, when he pets and licks and kisses you all over and tells you how pretty all your holes are for him. 

His cock is so hard when he finally settles on his knees between your spread thighs, on your back again so that you can see his pulse in the tiny, subtle beat of his erection as it stands up, curving towards his flat belly. No condom, and you want to say thank you for letting you feel him like this. 

He pushes your knees wide and grips his cock, twisting his fist around the sticky glossed head, flushed red almost purple. You love it when he’s this hard, when you know it’s all for you, when you know you’re the only one in this moment that can fix it for him. 

“Get it wet for me,” he nods his head at your slick cunt, parted and bared to him just like he likes. You dip your fingers into the well of wetness, play in it, watch the shiny string of slick stretch between your pussy and fingers, and no one makes you as wet or as desperate as he does, and like he can read your mind he tells you, no one makes me as hard as you do, and you do not tell him that that isn’t something you want to hear, that that isn’t something that makes you feel good. The reminder that there are others. 

You wrap your slippery fingers around his cock, coating him in yourself and when you pull him towards you, notching him at the mouth of your cunt, and finally – finally, I’ve been waiting for this all night, and you can’t even tell who says it – it’s so fucking good that all the rest of it is worth it for this singular feeling right here. 

He pushes in, in, in, heavy balls pressed against the wet curve of your bottom, and you’re so soaked it’s slid down between your ass, marked his sheets with you, swings his hips back all smooth and wet and shoves back inside. His mouth is at your tits, folded over you, caging you in, biting and sucking on bare, tight nipples he tells you belong to him, cunt he fucks hard and deep he tells you also belongs to him.

He pulls an ankle up over his shoulder, changes the angle and drills into you hard and fast, other knee hooked over his elbow so you’re pressed and folded and presented to him just how he likes and needs, and he makes you say his name over and over, tells you exactly how he wants you to come on his cock just for him. His pelvis bumps your clit on every push forward, too thick cock wedged inside your cunt so that you’re stretched around him and no matter how many times you do this, it always hurts just a little. Like everything else the two of you do together. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans. “You take it so fucking good. Don’t come yet– don’t come. With me– wait for me. I want it together.” And you do cry at that, when he changes the angle once more and shoves in hard against your g-spot, the fat tip of his cock punching against it over and over so that there’s heat pooling at the base of your spine, stars flashing behind your closed lids, your breasts going hot and heavy and tight, stomach clenching with the effort to stave off your orgasm and do as he asks. He breathes into your mouth, and it’s all hot and damp skin and your sweaty limbs sliding against each other, open mouth to open mouth. 

“Now,” he says, pulls you onto him deeper with a tight grip on your ass, long fingers wrapped over the curve so that he can feel the wet, stretched place where he takes you, makes you his. “Take the whole fucking thing,” he whispers against your lips, and as your cunt goes tight as a knot, painful in that way that only he can make it, that’s so good, that way that always keeps you coming back for more, you finally start to cry real tears. Not just from his cock but from the whole of him, from everything he does to you. Your heart beats fast, fast, fast, and you count the days in the month til your period, the little game you like to play with yourself when the two of you are bad like this, and then decide you don’t really give a fuck as he starts to fill you with the heat of his come.

He stays inside of you for too long after the last throb of his cock. Rubbing his lips all over your neck and shoulders and tits, tasting you and giving you too much time to memorize the pattern and cadence of his breathing. And when he pulls out and pulls back to look at the slick, puffy sight of your cunt full of his come, he bends to lick you clean like he always does. Gives you one more orgasm, the last nail in the coffin or your heart. 

Sated and spent, you glance at the clock, and it’s officially Christmas Eve. You know he goes all out for Grogu, milk and cookies for Santa, stockings and gifts, the works. He is an exceptionally good brother, all a child could need in a father figure, and there had never really been any chance of you doing anything else besides loving him. 

When you pull the gift from your bag, heart in your throat and halfway to regret but more resolve than you’ve ever had in his presence, you tell yourself that if this brings on the end of everything, that you’ll find a way to be okay with it. If you’ve gone too far, done too much, you’ll accept it, count your losses, and what great losses they’ll surely be, but you’ll move on as best you can. 

You’d picked some pretty, baby blue paper with little red robins on it, a soft gold ribbon tied around the package. The sight of it makes you want to cry. You’d tried so hard, you really had. 

He’s quiet when you put it into his hands, staring down at it like it’ll reach out and bite his head off if he blinks even once. Swallowing several times before he says, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know. It’s– it’s for the both of you, kind of.” Him and his little brother.

“I didn’t get you anything.”

“No– that’s okay. I know. You didn’t have to.” Your voice comes out all breathless and full of nerves. You should’ve put your clothes on before you did this, made for a quicker, easier get away if necessary. 

He pulls the wrapping apart slowly, gently untying your ribbon, long fingers carefully picking at the little pieces of tape at each end so that he doesn’t tear the paper and disturb the robins. 

“Where did you get this?” He says when he’s finally unwrapped it, his voice telling you instantly that you’ve made a terrible mistake. 

“It– it was in your drawer. I–”

“You went through my stuff?” He says, eyes snapping up to yours, finally looking away from the photograph you’d copied and framed for him. A picture of him and Grogu and his parents. Grogu, a baby, Din, a boy of maybe eight, gap toothed, cheesy grin and messy curls between his smiling parents. They looked, very much, like a deliriously happy family, and you’d thought it such a shame it was stuffed in his sock drawer when you’d found it, left to be forgotten. You’d only wanted to do something nice for him. 

“N–no. I mean… not intentionally. I was looking for my extra clothes – the ones you told me to leave here – and I–” your lashes flutter, overwhelmed. He suddenly looks so angry. “I saw it in your drawer. I didn’t mean– I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry, I–” You don’t know what to say. All of your falsely held control in tatters at your feet and tears in your eyes as you take in the horrible look on his face. Shocked, angry, hurt, but his gaze leaves the photograph again, shifts back to your face at the crack in your voice. 

He presses forward, as if to reach for you, realizing you’re about to cry. “It’s fine.” I’m sorry, Din, you murmur again. “It’s just–” He shakes his head, a frustrated noise in his throat, his voice all graveled and cracked like yours. He seems so much like a boy in this moment. A child confronted by a past he was too young to lose when he did, forced into the shape of a man too soon. “You know that this–we–” He motions between the two of you.

“Yes. I do,” you cut him off quickly. Assuming what he’s going to cut down here between the two of you before he gets the words out. He doesn’t need to say it, not out loud. He doesn’t need to be that cruel. The strength it takes the both of you to bite your tongues in that moment, as you take each other in, swells to a near painful pressure, and there is something so sick here between the two of you. His eyes are glossy with emotion and everything he won’t ever let himself tell you or anyone else, and you so badly want to tell him that it’s only that it’s hard to be casual when your favorite bra lives in his dresser, and also that you’re in love with him. 

“Thank you,” he finally says quietly, and you can’t answer, looking away out at the dark night through his murky paneled window. It looks like it’s about to snow, all the ingredients for a perfect Christmas at play. The room is so warm and his bed is so comfortable, and you feel so full of fragile and soft things inside. “You’re going to see your family tomorrow?” He still has the picture frame in his hands, fingers smoothing methodically over the edges, thumb swiping gently over the happy faces inside. 

You clear your throat, “Yeah, tonight. I’m going to my parents house, spending the night there.” And it’s on the tip of your tongue to invite the both of them to come too. You know your parents would love to have them, you would love to have them there, him, but the words stick in your throat with the fear of his rejection, and the two of you fizzle awkwardly into a heavy silence. 

You look out at the window again, too much of a coward to look into those bright eyes, but you can feel his gaze on you, singing the side of your face, and suddenly you feel him scoot over towards you. Deep sigh, dragging the duvet with him, wrapped around his bare shoulders all messy hair and flushed cheeks still steaming from your sex. No one should look like he does. No one. It’s the most unfair thing that’s ever happened to you in your whole life. He grips you around the bend of your bare knee, pulls you halfway into his lap, and your eyes are still fixated out on the night, the dark much safer than anything that lives inside this room.

“You remember when we met?” He says. The tears are back. “It was tonight.” Two years ago.

You tip your chin at the window. “At the restaurant…”

“...Down on eighty seventh street. Two years ago.”

“Yes.” You finally look at him. “I remember,” you whisper. Your mouth feels so dry, your heart so flinty.  

“The place had all those string lights put up, and we sat at that table outside in the back behind that group having their Christmas work party. You remember?” Of course you do. You only can't believe he remembers. He’d been wearing an olive green half zip sweater, and he’d smelled of laundry detergent and whiskey and cinnamon gum when he’d kissed you for the first time. 

“I had the best old fashioned I’ve ever had at that place. We should go back. And it was so cold, you remember? You never stopped shivering.”

“Yes, Din. I remember.”

“That was a good night.”

“Sure it was,” and it comes out with a bite you can’t help, for so many reasons you can and cannot explain. 

He gives one of those non committal hums he loves to provoke you with, that little glint back in his eyes. “Sure it was? What?”

“Nothing.”

“Is there something you wanna talk about?” The white elephant in the room, come to ruin everything, shatter all the glass, disturb the dust in your hair and break your heart. 

He tips your head back by your chin, two fingers holding you there, never letting you go. You shake your head at him caught up in his grasp like that. “No. I don’t want to talk about anything.”

And he gives you the strangest look, and for one second you wonder suddenly if that look you’ve always taken as provoking is not so much teasing, but more pleading, more knowing. “No…” he says, chews on his thoughts, strong, scruffy jaw with the heart shaped patch moving side to side. “I know you don’t,” and leans forward to press one single soft, chaste kiss to your open mouth. “You know what you are?” He says then, and the look is now entirely unknowable, confusing. 

Your eyes flick back to the window. “What?” Back to him again, breathless. 

“You’re my girl.” And out of the corner of your eye, you can see that there, finally, is the Christmas snow.

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