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lisired · 16 days

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change your mind yet?

pairing: haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, enemies to lovers-esque, choking, spit kink, haechan’s lowkey a cocky piece of shit, he calls you a bitch Lol

summary: You’re going to kill him. You swear, You’re going to kill him. how did Liu Yangyang accidentally tell Lee Donghyuck—your greatest enemy—that you think he’s hot and that you’ve been in a dry spell recently? Now you have to avoid the inevitable confrontation, and worst of all, deal with the most stubborn person alive (who ironically thinks that you’re the most stubborn person alive).

word count: 4.6k

a/n: very much an oldie… not so sure about a goodie but i do love the ending. i had written this for a friend lol

You love him to bits, but Liu Yangyang is not your favorite friend right now.

Fairly, you one-hundred percent blame him for the predicament you’re currently in. You know he can be a blabbermouth at times and wouldn’t do it on purpose, but there’s no way you’d let him get away with quote-unquote accidentally telling your mortal enemy that you think he’s hot, and that you’ve been having trouble getting off.

It was yesterday evening that you were on FaceTime with your best friend, simply conversating as per usual. You were ranting comfortably to Yangyang about your troubles and how sexually frustrated you are, and he suggested you getting laid. That’s how the topic of Lee Donghyuck came. He was suggesting people, and when he asked you if you thought Donghyuck was hot, you replied yeah, but I wouldn’t touch his dick with laboratory safety gloves.

Fast-forward some hours later, he’s consentfully telling your mutual friend Renjun about your conversation, in hopes of playing matchmaker and finding someone for you to fuck. The problem? Donghyuck was around, and somehow overheard everything except the part about you saying that you’d never touch his egotistical dick.

So now you’re on campus, avoiding your egotistic mortal enemy like the plague.

Why do you dislike Donghyuck? The answer’s simple, he’s one of those guys. The ones that think they own the world, and that it revolves around them. The ones that think they can have any and every person they want, and treat people’s hearts like dirt. In short, you don’t think he’s a good person, no matter how hot he is.

When your final class rolls around, you think you might’ve successfully dodged him. You had another class with him today, but for some reason he was a no-show. Not that you care, his lack of presence was relieving. Then, you see him stroll into your Language Arts class, and the bright red cherry on top? He’s quick to snatch the seat directly next to yours. Oh, brother.

“Hey,” Donghyuck whispers. “Let’s talk.”

Your heart is racing, but you think you manage to conceal it. “In the middle of class?”

He shrugs, “Afterwards.”

You’re running out of here the second your professor dismisses you.

So, Donghyuck cornered you.

There’s no going anywhere as long as he has you like this, backed up against a wall, his hands on either side of you, and his gaze practically rooting you in place. You feel like you’re being stared down by Medusa, still as stone as you look into his eyes.

“So, let’s talk,” he grins, tilting his head. “A little birdie tells me you think I’m hot, you’re under a dry spell, and that you’ve been having trouble making yourself cum lately.”

“Did you hear the part where I said I wouldn’t touch your egotistical dick with laboratory safety gloves?”

“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t need my dick to have your thighs shaking, huh,” you’re blushing, actually blushing, cheeks aflame and your skin all hot. To make matters worse, Donghyuck’s hands move from beside you to sitting pretty on your waist, not moving lower or higher, cool texture of his rings pressing gently into your skin. The contact has you in an internal frenzy, but you chalk it up to you simply being touch-starved. “Don’t you see these lips, baby?”

Alas, you do see them. With his face as close as it is to yours, you can’t help but see them. They’re pretty and plush, kissable, and kind of do look like they could eat—no, no, no, no. You’ve been with your share of guys like Donghyuck, ones that like to talk about how good they are, yet are severely disappointing in reality. For you to even be considering sleeping with him just goes to show that you’ve struck rock bottom.

“D-don’t call me that,” you curse yourself for stammering, because he only finds it amusing.

“Why not? I think you like it, baby,” Donghyuck teases, “is that the problem? You like me, but you don’t want to like me? You don’t like that you know I could make you feel good?”

You loosen your gaze, unable to bare eye contact with him any longer, “Fuck you, Donghyuck.”

“Fuck me your fucking self,” he grabs your chin, making you look at him. If you can see anything in his eyes, it’s the unmistakable gleam of lust, so dark yet so tempting. “You want it, don’t you?”

God dammit, you do want it. But you refuse to have your name crossed out on his checklist, to be another notch in his belt. You know it would only boost his ego to have seduced the most stubborn person alive into fucking him, and you absolutely refuse to let that happen.

“No.”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrow, “No?”

“No,” you repeat.

You don’t know how you expected him to react, but he takes it coolly, dropping his hands and stepping away. Aw no, did you hurt his ego? The thought almost makes you laugh.

“Okay, but you know where to find me when you change your mind,” He smirks, and you hate how confident he sounds. Not if, but when. When you change your mind.

He strolls away, and you let him. You have bigger fish to fry, and you refuse to let some grade A fuckboy get in your head.

Unfortunately, you are not as in control of your thoughts as you’d like. This is bad, really fucking bad, you think. Last night, you actually successfully managed to cum on your own. That should be a good thing, but the reason you came is absolutely humiliating. An embarrassing, taking-it-with-me-to-the-grave secret.

You may or not may not have came to the thought of Donghyuck. How his fluffy hair would look clamped to his forehead, or how his forehead would look dripping with sweat. Imagining his fingers replacing your own, fingering you with his rings on, the coolness of them against your skin. But what really did it was probably the image of him between your thighs that was planted in your brain the second he offered himself to you. You thought of what good his lips could do, and how they’d look dripping all wet.

This is fucking terrible. You haven’t came in god knows how long, and the one time you do after forever, it’s because of the man you’ve sworn to hate until the day you die. Usually this is something you’d rant to your best friend about, but after what happened the last time you told him about your sexual frustrations, you decide you’re going to keep this one to yourself. If Donghyuck ever heard you came to the thought of him eating you out, he’d literally never in a million years ever let you live it down.

Today’s a new day, but you haven’t been able to shake off the shame, particularly because tonight’s Renjun’s party, and being one of his best friend’s, Donghyuck will undoubtedly be there. He’s posted it on his story and everything, not that you were checking. You overheard Yangyang talking about it. But either way, you don’t know if you’ll be able look him in the eye again.

“It’s a good thing you’re going out again,” Yangyang assures, walking next to you as you two stroll into the party, “maybe you’ll meet someone else to help you get out of your dry spell.”

He’s right. This is your chance to get laid, get over whatever that was with Donghyuck, and move on. You’re like, ninety-nine point nine percent convinced you’re only attracted to him out of sheer desperation. The measly zero point one percent comes from you being aware that you’ve thought he was attractive long before yesterday happened, but whatever. Forget it.

So you nod in agreement. Soon enough, you’ve settled with the party atmosphere. You’ve had a drink but you’re not drunk, and you’ve tried socializing but everyone seems so not your style, which is insane, because Donghyuck isn’t your style either. You don’t think. No, he’s not.

This is worse than you initially suspected. You can’t find anyone, and Donghyuck’s still running through your mind, being a complete and utter distraction and he’s not even here—

Speaking of the devil himself, “Hey.”

You spoke too soon.

“Ohmygod, if you’re here to try and seduce me again, I’m not interested,” you groan, hoping he gets the message and leaves you the fuck alone. At the same time you really don’t, but you definitely think you should.

Donghyuck raises his hands, “But I’m egotistical. I just came here to invite you to a game of truth of dare with the gang, lighten up a lil, won’t ya?”

You sigh. “Where?”

He leads you to the room where everyone is, and you make sure to scoot next to Ningning and Jennie, refusing to sit anywhere besides Donghyuck. All you hope now is that the bottle doesn’t land on you after him.

A couple of rounds fly by, and you’re still safe. You’re having fun, and the thought of him escapes your mind with ease. Even when the bottle does land on you, he doesn’t dare you to do anything crazy that you thought he would.

After Yangyang’s turn, the bottle lands on you. You’re not worried, because Yangyang’s your best friend, he wouldn’t dare you to do anything stupid.

Then he does exactly that.

“Seven minutes in heaven with Donghyuck!”

You’re going to kill him. You’re mentally plotting his murder right now. How you’re going to do it, when, and where you’ll hide his body. If he suspiciously winds up missing, you’re more than likely the reason why.

“Pucker up, buttercup,” Yangyang blows you a kiss.

You spit back, “Shut up, bubble guts.”

You hear him gasp in offense, but whatever he says is cut off by Donghyuck.

“Come on, babes. I can hear your lips calling my name,” he teases, and you groan, clutching your fist. You guess there’s no way out of this. Well, technically there is, but Renjun let Yangyang choose the punishment and he decided to make anyone who refused to do a dare eat a spoonful of sour cream. Mind you, sour cream by itself is disgusting, and this is probably why he and his stomach are frequently at war, so your safest option is getting in that room with Donghyuck for seven minutes. You don’t even have to kiss, you can just let everyone think you did.

So you follow him into the bathroom connected to Renjun’s room, and the second the door shuts, he has you backed into yet another wall. He grins, “Change your mind yet?”

You stand your ground. “No.”

“That’s fine, we can make out in the meantime and then see how you feel after seven minutes.” he replies nonchalantly.

Even though you’ve been thinking about it, you grimace. “Gross.”

“What? It’s not my dick, why do you act like you hate me anyways? Not that I’m really complaining, I like when things are hard.”

“Bet you do,” you grumble. “And if I’m acting, then I must be Viola Davis.”

“Eh, I’d give you Keanu Reeves.”

You glare. “On second thought, I’m almost willing to kiss you if it means you’ll keep quiet.”

“Well you’re in luck,” Donghyuck grins, “because that and giving head are the only ways to silence me.”

You cave in soon later, letting him pin you to the wall, your hands above your head as he kisses you hungrily. It kills you to learn that he’s a great kisser, because that means he’s actually good at something other than running his mouth and being the bane of your existence twenty-four seven. Though you don’t know how that’s possible, he’s gentle yet rough. Caring in his movement, though passionate in them too. The way he’s kissing you, you’d think he loved you.

In spite of your obvious attempts to try and touch him, to maybe run your fingers through his hair or hold his cheeks in your hands, Donghyuck doesn’t let you move. You can feel the teasing grin bloom from his lips, and conclude that it’s intentional.

Never in a million years did you think you’d be french kissing Lee Donghyuck of all people, yet here you are. You can’t say you don’t like it, though. That would be lying. While you’d never admit anything like it, the roughness in the way he kisses you has you throbbing.

Donghyuck’s lips are like a drug. You stop for a moment to inhale, and then you’re lips are latched back onto each other. Exhale again, then you take another drag, and the cycle repeats. You could do this for fucking ever.

Then, the timer chimes.

“Time’s up!” Chenle yells from outside the bathroom, and Donghyuck pulls always almost instantly, surprisingly readier than you are.

He looks hot as he pants, chest rising and falling then rising again. He smirks, “Change your mind?”

God fucking damn it. Time went by a little too fast for your liking. Your lips are swollen, but you want more of him, to feel him, to touch him, especially because he didn’t let you. You’re finally admitting to yourself that you want him, and you can’t ignore your cravings anymore.

“Donghyuck,” you whimper, not caring in this moment who hears you, “w-want you.”

He smirks. “I know, baby. You wanna prove to me how much?”

You nod. It’s pathetic, truly, but you need this at this point. So you let Donghyuck lead you out of the bathroom, and essentially the bedroom, ignoring the curious sounds coming from your friends. He leads you down the hall into a different, emptier room, closing and locking the door behind the two of you.

“On the bed,” he instructs.

You comply, the desperation that accompanies having not slept with someone in months and orgasming in weeks making you leap into action in an instant. Then there’s this raw part of you that has lusted after him before you fully came to terms with your desire, making you feel the way blood courses through your veins.

Donghyuck walks up and kisses you again, this time allowing both of your pairs of hands to roam freely as you strip one another almost bare. In an eager motion, you peel away his shirt and jeans, and he matches your yearn, leaving you naked. He pulls away from your lips to eye your body in awe.

“You’re a bitch,” he says, “but a beautiful one.”

“Really turned me on,” you deadpan.

He laughs yet pushes your back flat against the mattress, wasting no time in hovering above your body. The proximity has your heart racing a little quicker, a little faster than it was out of something like anticipation. Donghyuck dips his head but doesn’t kiss you like you anticipate him to, at least not on the lips. His lips scout your neck, soft and sweet against your flesh. He sucks at your skin, and your mouth gapes a little, sounding the most sweet gasp before he digs his teeth in suit. It makes you whimper aloud his name, which he clearly enjoys from the way he smiles.

Donghyuck repeats a course of similar actions as he mouth scoots lower, kissing and sucking and biting at your collarbone. Then he proceeds after some time, traveling lower and taking your breast into his mouth or his tongue swirling over your nipples. He trails kisses at your sternum, your stomach, all the while your breath getting caught up in your throat the more his mouth falls down your body. He’s so obviously teasing you, you know that much. He has a destination yet no rush to get there, taking his sweet, precious time as though he’s rich of it. And maybe he is, but your patience is running thin, and there’s only so much more of this you can take. “Hyuck,” you cry out of sheer desperation, “hurry up.”

“For someone who claimed not to want me up until ten minutes again, you really are desperate for me,” Donghyuck replies, drawing his mouth away, and hence all contact there was.

Refusing to simply take that, you retaliate, “For someone who claimed they could make me feel good, you’re doing a whole lot of nothing right now.”

“Keep running that sharp mouth and I’ll have to put it to better use,” Donghyuck answers. It isn’t like you’re against giving head, and it wouldn’t sound so bad if you weren’t so painfully deprived of the same satisfaction Donghyuck’s offered to give you. Sure, the speed—or lack of the—heightens the anticipation, but you need him to quit teasing or you’ll actually go insane.

“You keep acting like you hate me,” Donghyuck moves between your legs, and you aren’t prepared for what he does next. Something about the way he slowly smooths his single finger through your folds and draws it into his mouth for a taste is hot to you, thus making you wish he’d finally get on with it. “But your cunt is telling me that you love me. Love this.”

Well it isn’t like he’s wrong. You haven’t been this wet in ages, the dry spell you’ve been under being extreme and severe. Touching yourself has gone absolutely no where up until last night, when you somehow managed to cum harder than you have in a minute. You’re starting to think that having Donghyuck as your muse changes things.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh. You’d love this more if he stopped making you wait, but you don’t say that aloud, starting to suspect that the more you complain the longer he silently decides he’s going to test your patience. After what feels like an eternity of touching you everywhere but where you desperately need him to most, Donghyuck’s tongue draws a line between your thighs. Then another, and another. It progresses into more with no particular rush, despite the inevitable whines you can’t prevent from falling out. “Hyuck,” you cry again, wishing he’d stop playing games.

Donghyuck teases, “What’s the magic word?”

“Please,” you beg, “Please, please. I-I want, fuck no, I need this. Please, fuck—”

Your pleas are cut short the moment Donghyuck gives in, lapping at you with an unquenchable thirst and insatiable hunger. It’s so sudden that it gives you whiplash, and he has to grip your thighs to keep them spread a safe distance apart. He’s unstopping once he begins, tongue maneuvering as it pleases, roaming around freely though expertly. Had you known Donghyuck was as much bite as he was bark, you may have gave in to this much sooner than you did. Not only is he making you feel good, but he’s making you feel great. If you could taste heaven, it would be this.

Some moments pass, and the humiliating part is that it isn’t a lot of moments. Your thighs are trembling more with every lick, resulting in Donghyuck’s grip around your thighs to tighten out of consideration that you might successfully slip out of his grasp. You stomach turns, flips, and you’re vision is being clouded white, so close to an orgasm that it hurts. Donghyuck senses it, you know that he can, you can feel the arrogant smirk spreading across his lips once more. Just as you’re getting so close, as your orgasm is right there in arms reach, being dangled in front of you by a string, he snatches it away.

There’s yet another whine from you, but he answers your question before you even get the chance to ask, “Want you to cum when I fuck you, baby.”

Donghyuck removed his boxers, leaving them on the ground to be cared about later. His erection springs flat against his stomach in a way that makes you so suddenly inhale a breath, and you clench around absolutely nothing at all. You’re gawking at him as though you want to eat hm, and in a sense you do, but you can’t be blamed. It looks better than you could’ve ever imagined, decent length, decent girth. The real brag-worthy factor, however, is if he knows what to do with what god has blessed him with.

His dick nudges your slit. “Ready?”

Without wasting an eighth of second you give him the go-ahead, nodding your head at instance so fast it almost hurts your neck. He reacts equally as fast, prodding his dick between your folds and eventually your walls. It stretches you out perfectly, and the moment he’s in you Donghyuck’s moaning about how tight and wet you are. He takes a moment for himself before he starts to move, gliding in and out of you in an effortless motion.

So far, Donghyuck has lived up perfectly to your imagination and expectations, much better, even. You never would’ve thought he’d actually have the right to brag about how good he is in bed, but you see it now. He’s a god even, not that you’d ever tell him that to his face.

“So pretty, wish I could have gotten to you sooner. Always telling me that you hate me yet letting me fuck you like this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve always wanted this,” Donghyuck says into your ear, and pecks your neck. “Are you always this needy? So desperate that you’ll let even me fuck you?”

“G-god, yes,” you don’t care about overpriding him anymore, just saying things because you aren’t in the right mind to care about anything other than his dick right now.

“Yeah?” He smirks. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

You’re almost too fucked out to speak, just moaning and whimpering in a way you never thought you would for him, “Feels good, so… so good. Love it.”

If you were in the right mind to have shame, you’d be embarrassed by the way your number-one enemy is making you moan, and not just because of the volume, but because it’s his name your moaning so pathetically. Choruses of “Hyuck” sounding from you in plethoras, calling his name with no actual reason. You’re breathing in little shallow, quick breaths, too, mouth agape as your whimpers tumble into the air. It helps that Donghyuck’s also surprisingly vocal, calling your name back. To say the least, the way he moans your name is hot and gets you off a little more, in spite of you not needing the help. He has it all on his own, fucking into you deep and hard.

Donghyuck gropes your body too, heightening your pleasure by fumbling with your breasts or rubbing your clit with one of his free hands. He doesn’t focus on one particular part of you, showering your figure with pleasure and attention that makes the sex a billion times better.

“Can I choke you?” He asks, and the question catches you a little off-guard, but once you shake off the surprise, you give him permission.

Donghyuck’s hands slither around your neck, and he presses into your jaw with just enough force to make you look at him, and silently communicate that he wants you to keep your eyes him and his actions. His fingers press onto the sides of your throat, and you’re not sure what is a bigger turn on, the fact that he knows how to properly do it or the action itself. You think it’s a bit of both, you enjoy the thrill as you look defeated by your inability breathing, and the dark look in his eyes tells you that he enjoys it too, staring straight into your soul, watching you fail to take a breath.

He doesn’t loosen his grip on your throat as he commands, “Open your mouth.”

You aren’t in the mind to question anything, simply following instructions. His mouth hovers above yours, lips parting to spit in your mouth. The action takes you by surprise yet again, but you swallow almost instinctively, never looking away from him as you do.

He backs away once satisfied, smiling. “So good for me, baby.”

That makes you clench around him, which also brings Donghyuck the satisfaction of a moan or two. He loves the way you clench around him when he says things to you, a telltale sign that you’re enjoying this more than he knows you’d probably like to admit. This whole thing between you and him, him and you is that you’re too stubborn to admit your desire. It prides him that he finally managed to make you confess it, to admit that you’re no different from anybody else. That he can still get under your skin, and does a fairly good job at that. Not only does it make him feel good about himself, but it makes him feel good right now. Your reactions, all your moans and your fucked out face, the whimpering and the begging, it all gets him off more.

That knot in your stomach is forming again, and he has you clenching around him regularly soon afterwards, and he can tell that this time, it’s not because of his words. It’s because you’re about to orgasm. “I’m close,” you announce, once again feeling all the flips and turns twisting about in your gut. It’s a good thing Donghyuck’s close too, being obvious from the way his thrusts aren’t as smooth as they initially were.

“Me, too. C’mon baby, give it to me,” he urges you on, and you let him drive you to the edge.

He makes you see white again, vision fogging the color and your voice a high-pitched moan of his name as you climax, grinding your hips into his as you intend to ride out your orgasm. In some high, trance-like state, you’re not sure when he cums, but you know that it wasn’t that much longer after you did, and then he slid out, flopping beside you on the mattress. You lie there in near-silence that consists of nothing but heavy breathing, wondering to yourself if this actually happened. You don’t regret it, not now anyways, and it was definitely a satisfying way to break your dry spell, but now you’re starting to question if it was a bad decision. He hasn’t even asked if—

“Are you okay?” Donghyuck asks, seemingly needing a moment to catch his breath before he could gather words.

His words cut through your thoughts, leaving you to accept that maybe he’s not that much of an asshole. It’s the bare minimum, so he’s still an asshole, but not that much of an asshole. “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m good.”

“Good,” he grins. “So, you wanna ditch this party and go get some Chinese food? I’m starving.”

“You want to go get food with me?” you say, sounding wholly and utterly surprised and unconvinced. This man spends every other day of his life bothering you, and now he wants to pick up some food with you?

“I mean, if you don’t want free Chinese food that I’m paying for with my money, then fine, suit yourself, I’ll just get it by my—”

“No!” You interject, sitting up immediately as you scan the room for your clothes. “I’m down. Kinda hungry, too.”

“Good,” Donghyuck says. “Chop, chop. We don’t have all night, they close in like less than an hour from now.”

Standing out of bed to put your clothes on, you consider to yourself that maybe you’ve assumed a lot about him without getting to know him. He’s definitely got an ego on him, that a blind man can tell, but he’s not really an asshole.

“Yo, I just realized something.”

“What?”

Donghyuck smiles bashfully, “I don’t have my wallet on me.”

Nevermind. He’s one-hundred percent definitely an asshole.

#lee haechan smut #haechan smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct

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thecuriousquest · 4 months

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Dirt Bag (Daddy Loves You Part Two)

Yan!Step Dad Toji x Fem!Reader

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @murderofravens

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, rape/non con vaginal sex, rape/non con anal sex, heavy spanking, possessive tendencies, guns, death threats, pot references, degradation kink, Daddy kink, all characters are 18+

Master List

Part One

My Ask Box is currently closed while I catch up on requests. Thank you for your patience and understanding.

—————————————————————————

You guys do not get along with each other AT ALL, and he takes this out on you by being petty as fuck. If you’re not going to be his good little girl, then he’s going to be stern as fuck until you can get your fucking shit together.

He tells you this every time you try to argue about curfew, every time he sees you’re about to go out dressed in those snug jeans and a crop top.

Honestly, he couldn’t give a fuck about what you wear, but he’s petty, so he’s going to order you to go back upstairs and change.

You got a problem with it? It just means he gets to spend more time keeping you at home while arguing with you. Argue too much and he might just pull out a wooden spoon and smack your ass with it a few times until you back out of his reach and shoot up to your room about as fast as a bottle rocket.

Damn. The power a wooden spoon holds, huh?

It makes him feel bigger than he already is.

But he isn’t in the mood to argue when he sees you walking inside with a boy. Neither of you get even five steps in when he rolls his eyes and stands from the living room couch. Fuck, work was hell. Killing for money today was just awful. Now he has to deal with you and some fucking idiot?

He pushes you towards the stairs, roughly. You fall on the fourth step on your ass, hitting your elbow on the hard wood.

“What the fuck’s up your ass, old man?!”

He doesn’t even bother with you as he fixes his eyes on the asshole in his doorway.

“Out,” is all he says as he points towards the screen door that just shut a few seconds ago.

“Whoa, man, who even are you?”

He looks stoned. Of course he looks stoned.

“I said-“ he grabs his gun, the same one he took on his mission earlier. “Out.” He cocks the gun and points it straight at the guy wreaking of pot. “Now.”

And that sobers him up pretty quick because he’s out the door in less than two seconds.

You watch your step dad put his gun back in his waistband, and you scream at him.

“Why do you ruin everything for me?!”

His eyes finally turn to you, dark and cold like a moonless sky. He grabs you by your jaw, pulling you in close while keeping your ass on the steps.

“I hafta protect you from scum like that because you’re a fuckin’ idiot.”

That’s the only reason he gives you as he tucks you under one arm, keeping you close to his hip.

“You kick, I’ll start spankin’ you.”

But you don’t listen to his warning, so you thrash and beat on his bulky thigh through his sweat pants, never relenting until a firm palm comes down on the pocket of your jeans.

You elicit a guttural cry from the impact, feeling fire blossom across the cheek he just smacked.

“Oh, you asshole! Fuck you, Toji- OW!”

It only gets worse from there. He walks to his bedroom that he shares with your mother, and as he walks, he roasts your ass. The jeans make you feel like you have zero protection because it just hurts so fucking much.

“Toji!” you cry out as he throws you on the bed, bending you like one of those art dolls made for posing.

He manhandles you onto your stomach, giving you your real punishment as he tears your jeans off of you.

“You’ve been a real bad girl, ya know that? Disregardin’ Daddy like a fuckin’ bitch.”

And it’s so much worse now to feel his hand, which could be just as bad as a belt, bite into your supple skin. You break down, snot dripping from your nose as tears spill over your lashes. You grip the shitty comforter, kicking every once in a while when the burn gets so bad that you just can’t control your limbs.

“Toji, stop!”

All he hears is a demand, and nobody orders Toji around. Especially not his dirt bag daughter.

It takes a while to get you there, but you finally lower your head in acceptance, submission as you murmur “please, please” while crying so terribly.

And Toji can’t help but palm the meat of your ass, the doughy flesh now sporting a horrible scarlet.

“Damn, that’s gotta hurt, hon,” is all he says as he massages your raw skin.

You hear rustling coming from the bedside before there’s a presence in between your legs. You’re quick to try to turn over, but one large forearm across your lower back keeps you right where he wants you.

“This is kinda yer own fault, ya know? Such a filthy little slut.” He impales you, splitting you with his piercing cock. “Damn. So fuckin’ tight. Who would’ve known? Thought you’d be loose with the way ya act and dress.”

You feel like your soul has left your body, not even hearing your own screams as your step dad fucks you on the bed he shares with your mom.

“Stop it! I hate you!” you wail as you pound your little fists into the pillow.

Toji coos at you. “Come on, hon, don’t be like that. Want me to fuck yer ass instead?”

The shock of his words still you, and you whimper and plead for him not to.

“Then tell me ya fuckin’ love me so much. Tell Daddy ya love ‘em.”

This is the sickest kind of “love” imaginable.

Gasping for air through a sob stuck in your throat, you feel your stomach roil as you repeat the words he wants to hear.

“I love you, Daddy.”

“Yeah? Yeah, love ya too, hon.”

The control he has over you is strangling as he bullies that little spot that has your hips bumping into the mattress. He reaches underneath you with one hand, supporting himself with the other. Just like that, he fiddles with your clit, pinching and twirling the puffy thing.

You stiffen as something builds and continues building until you just can’t keep still anymore. You let go of the tension, and Toji can feel your juices all over his thigh-slapping cock.

But Toji isn’t a nice man. No, Toji is a terrible man who kills people for money and fucks his dirt bag daughter until she breaks as a punishment.

He pulls out of your throbbing pussy and lets his wet dick nestle against your asshole. Your eyes widen when you feel him pushing inside.

“I told you I loved you!”

“Yeah, I heard ya. Daddy loves ya too, baby girl.”

He pumps deep inside of you, skin-on-skin contact so rough it sounds like clapping. Your freshly spanked ass so raw and bruised that you cry every time he pistons into you.

And finally, finally, the moment he’s been waiting for, you collapse into the bed in a heap of sobs and messy whimpers. Oh, it’s so good to watch you no longer hold yourself up on your elbows. With your face in the scratchy pillow case, he pulls you back by your pony tail and whispers the worst things into your ear.

“I’m all ya got, hon. Don’t worry. Daddy will take such good care of his baby girl. Yeah, no more bein’ bad for Daddy. Next time ya act up, Daddy’s gonna think you want it real bad in that cute little pussy and tight ass. Ya got me?”

And you’re so distraught you can barely respond, but you somehow find the capability to say, “Yes, Daddy!” because you fear what he might do if you call him anything else.

The laughs from above you confirms your suspicion that you made the correct choice in calling him “Daddy”. He pounds your fluttering little asshole, calling you “his bitchy little brat”, saying that you won’t be like that anymore though, telling you he’s going to be a lot more firm with you from now on because he doesn’t like the dirt bag you’re turning into.

And he’s starting with the friends and boys you hang around. Whispering in your ear that he’ll kill them all before he lets you officially turn into one of them.

You tighten up in fear, crying because doing that makes it worse for your poor, squelching hole. You nod along, agreeing with him for now.

And when your step dad is on the edge, he jizzes inside of your asshole, filling you up. When he pulls out, he’s fascinated by his white hot come spilling out of you, dripping between your scarlet cheeks, disappearing between the folds of your pussy.

“Atta girl. Knew ya could take it.”

A final clap of appreciation to your sore bottom has you sobbing a fresh round of tears.

He rolls his eyes and rubs your back, pulling you in close to him as he lays his head on the pillow. What’s even worse is that you’re so tired you actually fall asleep on his chest.

592 notes · View notes

redstarwriting · 10 months

Text

happy birthday

miles morales x reader

request?: yes

request: “I LOVEDDD THE HC’S OMG OMG WORK OF ART!!! i was wondering if you would write something expanding on getting miles’ doodles tatted as an adult!! i would love to read more abt it, it’s so cutee”

requested by: anon

word count: 2.2k

genre: fluff

Warnings: language, tattoos, mentions of tattoos and needles, Miles is so sweet it's sick

A/N: GLADLY!! i've been itching to get a new tattoo since the minute i got my first like three years ago and writing this just made me want to get another one so bad LMAO. i hope you enjoy!

also in case you were wondering what hcs anon is talking about, it's my pda/general affection hcs i wrote for hobie and miles! you can check it out here if you haven't already and feel compelled to :)

───────────────────────────────────

“Miles! Baby, can you give me a tattoo?” you ask, and he smiles. This has become a common practice in your relationship. From the time y’all were kids in love to now, you would always ask him for a tattoo. Of course, he didn’t actually give you tattoos, he just drew on your arm. He’s mentioned you, and even urged you, to get a tattoo every now and again. Especially when he offered to design them, but you always say his temporary ones are more special than any other tattoo you could get. He isn’t upset about it. He genuinely loves drawing on you. “Of course, babe. Come here,” he says, motioning you over to him as he grabs his markers he has specifically for your “tattoos.” You go over to him, sitting between his legs and extending your arm. “Can you draw it right next to the uh… elbow pit?” you say, and he laughs. “Elbow pit?”

“Yeah, like the inside of my arm and not on the bicep part or the elbow pit part, but the forearm part by the elbow pit,” you explain, pointing to the area you’re talking about. He chuckles. “Elbow pit.”

“Well, what else would it be called?” you ask, smiling, and he grins, starting to doodle on your arm. “I’ll text and ask my mom what the scientific name for it is after I’m done here,” he says, and you lean your head back against his shoulder. “Oh, god, please don’t tell her I called it an elbow pit.”

“Oh, I’m totally telling her you called it that,” he teases, placing a quick peck on your lips before returning his attention to your arm. He draws a spiderweb, of course, but in the shape of a heart. He adds his Miles touch to it by making it look like the web was spraypainted, and having it pop with black and red. You don’t even look at the tattoo as he draws it, you just stare at his face. You love watching him when he does his art. You assume it’s similar to the way his face looks when he’s swinging around the city as Spider-Man. He’s in his element, laser-focused and yet has an ease about him that mesmerizes you. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he says, smirking and turning his attention to you. You feel your face heat up but roll your eyes. “Can’t, arm’s a bit preoccupied.”

“You can get creative; I have an idea. Maybe use the one I’m not drawing on?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, and he shakes his head. “What do you think, amor?” he asks, and you look. You smile. “I love it, Miles. Thank you,” you say, kissing him on the cheek. He grins, wrapping his arms around your waist as you admire his art. “What time is it?” you ask, and he glances at his phone. “11:15. Why?”

“Ganke and I are gonna go get some lunch today.”

“Should I be worried?” Miles jokes. “No, dummy. We’re just talking about… something happening soon,” you say, and a sly smile spreads across Miles’ face. “How soon?”

“I’ve said too much,” you say, trying to get up. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend is Spider-Man and can easily hold you in place. “Nuh uh, how soon is this something happening?” he looks at you with a shit-eating grin, and you roll your eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know, spider boy?”

“I would. Is it, and this is just a wild guess… something happening tomorrow? A special something happening on a very special day?” he guesses, and you sigh. “Don’t tell Ganke you found out…”

“I knew it!”

“We’re supposed to be planning your birthday party, yes. For tomorrow. On your birthday. Are you happy you spoiled it for yourself now?” you feign annoyance, and he laughs. “I am, actually. Now I know to look good for you tomorrow.” You roll your eyes. “You always look nice, Miles.”

“Only for you,” he grins at you, turning your face to look at him. The two of you share a kiss before it’s interrupted by his police scanner going off. He frowns slightly. “It’s okay, Miles. I gotta go soon anyways,” you give him a quick peck for squeezing out of his arms. He sighs. “Fine, fine. Guess I’ll go save the city. Be the best thing that ever happened to New York and all that.”

“My hero,” you joke, and he grins. “You know it,” he says, slipping his mask on and sliding his everyday clothes off. “I’ll see you later, Miles. Stay safe. Love you.”

“You stay safe, too. Love you more.” He leaps out of the window, and you make sure he’s gone before you call Ganke. “Yo, what’s up?”

“You gotta plan Miles’ birthday party tomorrow.”

“Woah, what?” You sigh. “I already have the roof of our building booked out for it, I ordered the cake already and will pick it up tomorrow and have all the decorations. You just need to invite everyone, okay?”

“You mean I have to reach out to people in different dimensions, tell them to clear their schedules for tomorrow, and hope for the best?” Ganke asks, and you hum into the phone. “Yep! Thanks, Ganke! Also, if Miles asks, we went and got lunch, okay?”

“And where are you really going?”

“I’m getting a tattoo to surprise him for his birthday tomorrow,” you say, grabbing your keys and putting some money in your pocket. You put Ganke on speaker, sending a quick text to Hobie. “You need to stop using me as a cover-up, (Y/n).”

“Who else am I supposed to use? Gwen?” you say, and Ganke sighs. “I mean, yeah, you know she would be down to help you with something like this.”

“Ganke she is so bad at keeping secrets like that, and you know it,” you say, admiring the art on your arm again. “Then use Hobie.”

“Wait that’s actually a good idea,” you say, “Especially since he’s the one giving me the tattoo.”

“AND YOU STILL USED ME?!”

“I PANICKED! He was asking questions! Just, listen, invite as many people as you can think of, alright? Please, and thank you.”

“Fine. Go get inked or whatever they say,” Ganke says. The two of you give some quick goodbyes before hanging up. You receive a reply from Hobie, and a portal opens in Miles and your bedroom. You step through it and find yourself in Hobie’s flat. “Can I just say it’s about damn time you got one of ‘is works tattooed onto ya,” Hobie says, motioning to his couch. You sit and he gets his whole get-up ready, all the cleaning wipes and gloves and the tattoo gun all ready to go. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m getting it now and that’s what matters,” you say, and he clicks his tongue. “I can guarantee ya this is just gonna be the beginning. Kinda becomes an addiction,” he says, sitting next to you, and fiddling with his gun. “Then I guess I’ll just need to have Miles draw on me even more.” He chuckles. “Lemme see it.”

You show him the drawing, and Hobie shakes his head. “Your man is corny,” he says, and you shrug. “I like it.”

“I know,” he dips his gun in ink, and looks at you, “Ya ready?” You nod, and he begins tattooing Miles’ art onto your skin. The two of you talk the whole time, really, and you let him know about the party tomorrow. He, of course, agrees to come, and can’t wait to see Miles’ reaction. It takes a few hours, but eventually he finishes up and it looks exactly like Miles just drew it on your skin. Hobie places fake skin over it and gives you the rundown of how to take care of it. He turns away from you to put something away, and you quickly slip $100 under a pillow on the couch. You know he won’t accept any money from you because he’s ‘not a capitalist pig,’ so you have to be sneaky with it. “Thank you so much, Hobie,” you say, and he winks at you. “Anythin’ for my mate’s better ‘alf.”

He opens the portal again, and you two say bye until tomorrow. You’re back home, literally, in no time, and you quickly throw one of the hoodies Miles left lying around on. This way he won’t see the tattoo, and you can play it off like you missed him. Especially since you did kind of miss him and it is sort of a staple in your relationship that you wear his clothes when you do. That’ll make him melt and he’ll forget all about the art on your arm. And you were absolutely right.

It ended up being a late night for Spider-Man, and when he got home, he saw you curled up on the couch, sleeping with his hoodie on, and all he could think about was that you missed him. He carefully picked you up and carried you to your shared bed. You started to wake up as soon as he was getting in bed after taking a shower and cleaning up, and he began desperately trying to get you to go back to sleep. “What time is it?” you groggily ask. “It’s like 3am, (Y/n/n), I’m here now, we can go to sleep, okay?” he says, slipping into bed next to you and pulling you on top of his chest. “Happy birthday!” you sleepily say, burying your face into his chest. He smiles. “Thank you, amor. Let’s get back to sleep now, yeah?” You make a muffled mmhmm sound and are out like a light almost immediately. Miles smiles to himself, wondering how he got this lucky.

You can imagine his disappointment when he wakes up the next day and you’re not snug against his chest, but he feels better the minute he sees a little note on his chest that explains you’ll be home, you just had to go do something for him. He gets up and decided he can do his Spider-Man duties until you text him and let him know he needs to come home. It may be his birthday, but the city still needs it’s defender. So that’s exactly what he does. He cannot explain how grateful he is that none of the big bads were trying to start anything today, because if he didn’t get to see you and eat a slice of cake, he was going to scream. The day went slower than he wanted but also sped by when eventually he got a text from you saying to come home. He immediately obliges, swinging in through the window and putting on some of his nicest clothes. He walks out of your room and sees you chilling on the couch. “Miss me?” he asks, walking over and bending down to kiss your lips. You giggle. “Obviously. Hey, before we go up to the roof where there totally isn’t a party waiting for you, I wanna show you something, okay?”

“Okay,” he grins, and you grin back. “Cover your eyes.” He does as instructed, and hears you shift slightly. “Okay… open them.” He opens his eyes, and immediately sees his “tattoo” on your arm. Only it was covered in a clear wrap. And it’s real. His eyes get big, and he looks at your face. You give a small smile. “You always encouraged me to get a real tattoo, so… happy birthday.”

“Yo! It looks so good, hold up,” he gently grabs your arm and softly traces it through the saniderm. “When did you get this?”

“Yesterday.”

“You weren’t actually with Ganke, were you?”

“No, I was with Hobie,” you say, and he shakes his head. “I got a little liar on my hands, huh?”

“It wasn’t lying it was covering my ass because you ask too many damn questions,” you say, and he laughs. “I love it, (Y/n/n).” You smile and the two of you share a kiss. “We should probably get up there. Some people are waiting. Oh, and pretend like you haven’t seen it yet. Hobie wants to see your reaction.” Miles laughs. “Alright. Well, I hope he knows I’m not gonna stop drawing on you. And that he fully traced my art,” Miles says, and you shake your head. “I’m sure he knows, Miles. You really like it?”

“Like it? Baby, I told you I love it. I love you; I love this tattoo; I love that this is a birthday present from you… everything about this? I love it. I don’t even need to go up there to make the day better because all I need is you,” he says, and you smile. “Hobie was right. You’re so corny.”

“Nah, hold on, he said that? Forget everything I just said it’ll be a perfect day when I punch him.” You laugh as the two of you make your way up to the party. But the whole time, Miles keeps finding his eyes drifting to your tattoo. Something about having his art on you permanently makes his heart swell with pride and happiness. And he and Hobie were both right.

It’s not the only “tattoo” that will become real.

───────────────────────────────────

#miles morales x reader #spiderman x reader #miles x reader #spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #miles morales #spiderman #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv

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crimson-door · 2 years

Text

it's been 3 hours and i'm still kinda dazed irl bc i got absolutely destroyed in a ttrpg

the dm admitted this encounter was designed to make all of us hate the villain (tho idk if the other players care about my character that much). i was terrified of the whole thing before it started and once i realized that there was no way for me to win the encounter i had to consider that my character would trully rather die than being captured in that very specific situation. i lost an arm and all

we're cool tho. talked to the dm about it afterwards bc the arm loss was a big shock, specially without a proper warning beforehand so i could prepare mentally, but it's all cool now. my character still lost an arm tho and idk where to go from here

#i still don't know if people playing even like my character so idk if the whole thing did much as a motivation #also none of their characters were present #after the dm left i kinda admited to the rest of the group that if captured my character would rather kill herself #who knows what will happen next session but this was very intense #i overall like the impact it made in the story as a whole but like if you gonna remove one of my limbs please lmk that that's a possibility #bc like. the game started as a fun martial arts tournament. then we found out that the organizers wanted us to kill eachother #and yeah we have powers and stuff but like so does the gang running the show #i also feel a little bit targeted? like i know i'm a veteran player and i jump into the drama quick #but from my 3 big fights one doesn't count bc it was with a friend and the plan was to escape the tournament together #but the other two were the DEADLIEST fights in the game #the first one of which only ended without deaths bc of external factors bc we had NO FUCKING WAY TO win. also i wasn't alone in that one #and the other one being today. i had no fucking chance of winning. i tried looking at it from every angle #i managed to last two rounds and that was me using all the resources my character sheet had #also a bit of creative environment usage #idk how to personally feel rn bc it feels like things are disproportionally harder for me #and i wasnt prepared for that shit like i made this character sheet almost as a big joke #like she's a catgirl who does heist. a cat-burglar if you will #today's fight was like if a train hit a puppy #or a kitten i guess #idk i just needed to vent somewhere where they won't see bc i don't want anyone to feel bad #i'm probably just feeling this way bc it just happened and the arm thing caught me off guard so hard

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ayyy-pee · 1 year

Text

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Female Reader

Summary: Who knew it only took two seconds of spooning for your fiance to want more?

Story Warning: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Creampie (don't try this at home), Fluff, Smut, Thigh Fucking, Fingering, Suguru in loooooove,

Suguru art by: Ilameys (Twitter, IG, Patreon)

AN: Just a quick lil drabble fluff smut piece idk it was stuck in my head for days and i had to get it out so hope you like it. i literally don't even know what i put here. i'm in love with Suguru with my whole heart i NEED TO MARRY HIM IMMEDIATELY

It’s been a long day. You’re sitting in bed, frantically finishing up a work email after your shower. In the bathroom, you hear the water running, your fiance finishing up his own shower before you both turn in for the night. Your tired eyes skim through the email you’ve drafted for your client to send tomorrow. Everything looks up to par so you hit save, exiting your email app and moving on to check your social media apps. Next to your bed, the door to the bathroom opens, the warm steam of your fiance’s shower filling the room.

“Fuuuuuuucking shit, I’m so tired,” he sighs as he steps into the bedroom. He wraps a small towel around the ends of his long raven hair and squeezes, trying to get every bit of water out of his tresses before lying down. He knows how much you hate him going to sleep with wet hair.

“Satoru pissed off the higher ups at work today and I spent the whole day cleaning up his mess,” he complains as he crosses the room. “So pissed I missed our dinner because of it. I’m sorry again, love.”

You plug your phone into its charger and set it on your bedside table, slipping under the covers in your bed. Your fiance makes his way to your dresser, a towel draped loosely around his waist. It hangs just right, the sexy “V” of his hips holding your attention as he vents about his day. He turns to reach into his drawer, pulling out a pair of boxer briefs and putting them on before tossing his towels into the laundry hamper.

“I’m sorry, babe,” you say, holding out your hand to beckon your fiance to bed. A small smile spreads across his lips as he watches you, eyes full of adoration and he moves towards you. The bed dips with his added weight as he climbs on. He kisses you sweetly just before he lays down. His warm arms wrap around your figure as you snuggle closer to your fiance beneath the blankets, the warmth of his body pressed against your back only adding to your coziness. It’s been a long day for you both and you’re ready to just close your eyes.

However, it seems your fiance has other plans in mind.

“Suguru…” you murmur as he tightens his hold on you. “I thought you were tired.”

He hums behind you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, planting soft kisses along your skin. “I am, baby, but I haven’t seen you all day. I just missed you.” His voice is a whisper, husky and wanting and you know you won’t be getting any sleep any time soon. Suguru’s hand ghosts along the side of your body, until it rests on the curve of your hips. He squeezes gently as his lips graze the shell of your ear. His warm breath fans across your face and you melt, already feeling your body react to his touch.

Suguru grips your waist before rolling his hips up against your ass and you gasp softly, feeling how hard he already is when he’s barely touched you.

“Missed you so much today. I had to stop myself from stroking my dick in the shower thinking about you,” Suguru admits. “Wanted to wait until I could get you like this.” His confession stokes a fire in your belly, your arousal already dripping into your panties.

It’s always like this. Takes absolutely nothing for you two to get started, your natural attraction to each other pulling you together like magnets the moment you’re in the same room.

“Suguru,” you sigh, reaching back to snake your fingertips into Suguru’s damp hair as he licks your pulse point, biting gently and earning a soft gasp from you. With a smirk, he rolls his hips forward again, evidence of his arousal pressing into your ass.

“Hmm?” Suguru hums, licking, biting and sucking at your neck until you’re writhing and the sounds of you panting fill the air.

“Suguru, touch me…” You can feel how hot you are through your panties, how your arousal is beginning to soak through the fabric. And Suguru can too because when his fingers slide beneath the waistband of your clothes and to your slick folds, his mouth falls open slightly.

“I’ve barely touched you. You’re soaked, baby,” he marvels. “Shit, take these off or you’re gonna ruin them.” He slips his hand out of your shorts and tugs them down your legs until they’re low enough for you to kick them off. When you’re settled again, Suguru brings his mouth to your ear and runs his tongue along the shell. “I want you so fucking bad right now, you have no idea.”

You let out a whine that quickly turns into a moan when you feel Suguru slip his hand between your legs again. Your eyes sink closed as you breathe deeply, reveling in the feeling of Suguru’s fingertips brushing against your cunt. Suguru kisses his way up your neck, the sharp edges of his teeth grazing your skin until his lips brush against your ear once more.

“Wanna make you feel good tonight, baby,” he whispers to you, his fingers deftly finding your clit and circling the nub.

“Please, ah- Suguru, yes. Make me feel good,” you whimper.

Suguru grunts behind you. “Fuck, baby,” he groans, as he grinds against you again.

You let go of your hold on Suguru’s hair, hand finding his wrist and holding tight.

“You like that, baby?” He asks, voice rough with need.

You nod, another moan rushing past your lips when Suguru rolls his hips against your ass again and again.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, shit, yes, Suguru. I love it,” you mewl, your grip tightening around his wrist.

At the sound of his name on your tongue, Suguru’s fingers slide into you. You moan, back arching on reflex as your walls clench around him. Your ass presses against Suguru’s cock and he rolls his hips forward again, moaning in return. Suguru increases his pace, his finger brushing against your center. You can feel the wetness pool between your legs, spreading between your thighs as Suguru’s hand brings you closer and closer to your peak.

Then suddenly, he stops.

Your eyes snap open as you feel Suguru pull away, your body shivering at the loss of his warmth. You hear him shuffling around behind you for a few seconds, followed by the sound of a soft thud. In the dim lighting of the room, you can’t tell what just hit the floor.

And then Suguru is back, body pressed against you again and you know. You feel the heat of his bare skin pressing against you, the thickness and length of his hard cock, sticky with precum sitting against your ass. Your heart races in anticipation of him filling you, stretching you deliciously and then fucking you until you can’t see straight.

But he doesn’t.

“Lift your leg a little for me,” he commands. And you do, spreading your legs and shuddering when you hear the smack of your soaked thighs separating. “So fucking wet,” Suguru coos as he adjusts himself to lay back on his side. “Just for me.” You feel him press his cock to your core and you shiver, waiting for him to push into you. Instead, he puts a hand on your lifted leg and pushes your legs closed.

You’re confused. He just wants to put his dick between your thighs? That’s…new.

“Suguru, what are you doing?” You ask, turning to look at him. He gives you a smug grin as he peers down at you, swiping his hand over his forehead to move sweaty strands away.

“Told you I wanted to make you feel good.” He doesn’t elaborate yet, just presses closer and shifts his hips until his length sits right between your folds, hot and heavy against your clit. “I want you to fuck yourself on my cock until you cum.”

Your core throbs with excitement. You’re happy to oblige, but –

“What about you?” You question.

Suguru leans forward, pressing a kiss to your temple. “We’ll worry about me later.”

His large hand finds your hips again and he pushes you forward slowly before he pulls you back into him. Like this, you feel every ridge and vein of Suguru’s cock slide back and forth across your clit and you gasp loudly at this new sensation. It feels incredible.

“Oh–” you breathe.

“Feel good, baby?”

“Yes…so, so good.”

Suguru rolls your hips forward and back again, moaning roughly as he kisses your jaw. The feeling is otherworldly, Suguru’s length stroking your nub just right with every roll of your hips. It’s hard to breathe as your release inches closer and closer with each thrust. The room fills with your moans and Suguru keeps pushing and pulling you into hips until the sound that emits from between your legs is downright sinful.

“You’re so wet, it’s driving me fucking insane,” he grunts, his hand coming up to grab your breast through the fabric of your shirt. He runs his thumb over the hardened bud, grinning when you gasp.

“I’m gonna…ah- gonna cum, Suguru, I’m so close.”

“Cum baby, cum on my cock. Fuck it until you cream all over it,” Suguru groans as he presses his face into the crook of your neck. He smacks your ass, earning a sharp cry from you, but the pain only adds to the delicious pleasure that shoots through your body as your release crashes over you.

Your thighs clamp down around Suguru’s cock, squeezing and trembling as your orgasm rips through you. Suguru pulls his face from your neck to watch as you lose yourself in the moment and he thinks about how damn beautiful you are when you’re all fucked out like this. So pretty when you’re a good girl and cum all over his cock when he asks you to. This is what he’s held out for. He loves to cum with you, but he loves to watch you come undone more.

Suguru loves the way your eyes close, and your mouth falls open with tiny gasps as you let the sensation wash over you. He loves the way he can feel your pussy throbbing against him as you cum. Loves the way he can feel your hole twitching, clenching around nothing, trying desperately to suck him in and –

Fuck he’s gonna cum.

The feeling shoots up his spine in a rush and it’s by sheer luck that Suguru is able to pull his hips back and push his entire length into you easily, so wet from your release. You moan loudly, the feeling of him filling you, stretching you so deliciously so intense that it rips another orgasm from you before you’ve had time to catch your breath.

And Suguru is right there with you. His mouth falls open, loud groans mixing with your cries as he bottoms out over and over, filling you with thick, hot ropes of his cum. He kisses your temple as he pumps you full, breathing sweet words to you.

“I can never get enough of you…fucking love you…can’t wait to marry you,” he grunts, pushing into you, trying to bury his cock as deep as he can. “Can’t wait to make you my wife. Can’t wait to put a ring on your finger, put a baby in you, make you mine forever.”

He moans into your hair, still fucking into you slowly, draining himself of everything he has to offer. “God, you’re so fucking tight. Greedy little cunt is sucking me in so deep. Such a good girl for me, taking all my cum. Fuck, you’re so good to me, baby.”

You can’t do anything but try to catch your breath, chest rapidly rising and falling as you come down from your release with Suguru. When you’re both able to breathe again, Suguru kisses you sweetly on your cheek as he lays back down. He wraps his arms around your form, pressing himself into your back.

“Ugh, we should shower,” you insist, feeling both your cum mixing between your thighs. It makes you shiver. “I won’t be able to sleep until I get cleaned up.”

Suguru sits up excitedly, a dumb smirk on his face. “Good. We can make a mess one more time, then.”

You laugh as your fiance climbs on top of you, settling between your legs and you can feel he’s already hard again. “Suguru…”

“Didn’t I say I could never get tired of you?” He says, brown eyes full of lust and love. And you love him, your future husband. “So yes or no?”

“Yes, always yes,” you tell him, pulling him down for a deep kiss, tongues tangling together as Suguru pushes into you one more time.

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

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seancekitsch · 14 days

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Hazbin Hotel—Lucifer x Reader where he’s a love struck fool for reader? May or may not be inspired by that little imagine you posted not too long ago \(//∇//)\

uhhh this kinda got away from me. enjoy!!

You’d have to be a fool not to notice how the King of Hell acts around you, even Angel and Husk told you that. But you’re not blinded to situation, you know exactly what’s going on. You rest your elbow on the bar next to Angel as Charlie gathers the hotel residents and staff, a job not unlike herding cats. Everyone trickles in slowly, waiting for the next odd trust bond activity Charlie has come up with now. Last week was heartfelt letter writing, and the three of you at the bar had not taken it seriously. You handed Husk a comedic inner monologue about how much you needed to pee, Husk handed Angel a surprisingly detailed made up story about a talking whisky bottle, and Angel handed you a list of what roles he’d cast the entire hotel in a porno.

“What do you think they’ll have us do this time?” Husk mumbles to you, topping off your drink.

“Honestly, not a fan of the way Princess is smiling right now,” you answer.

Charlie waves everyone over, and Vaggie smiles uncomfortably, ready for everyone to start.

“Okay Good Afternoon,” Charlie starts, practically bouncing, “Today we’re going to try to form new bonds!”

Immediately, she’s met with groaning and mumbling, but thats never stopped her and it won’t today either.

“So what better way to do that then having a buddy for the next twenty four hours!” She shouts, and Vaggie’s face immediately makes sense.

“I’ve separated everyone from their regular group so they can build these bonds and be open!”

“…got something you could open…” you hear Angel mumble under his breath.

Charlie gives her dad a thumbs up.

“The first pairing is… my dad and Y/n!”

The Morningstar family sucks at being subtle or lying.

“So what did you have planned for the day?” Lucifer asks while sitting beside you, his voice short and clipped, his entire demeanor like he’s on high alert. It’s cute, really.

“Ah don’t worry about it,” you shrug, “What does the areat King of Hell do with his day?”

Lucifer rubs his neck, fidgeting under your question.

“It’s not… Its not actually all that interesting,” he admits, “You’ve probably got something cooler going on.”

There’s something he’s avoiding besides your gaze, but you don’t press the issue.

You look across the lobby to Angel, who pauses his conversation with Vaggie to mouth something that looked like the word “fart” to you, and then wink.

Your art gallery. Right.

“Have you ever been to Pentagram City’s biggest art gallery?” you ask him.

Lucifer is a gentleman. You understand how he stole the first man’s first two wives from him. Sure, he’s stumbling and stuttering and a nervous wreck, but he’s holding doors open for you and asking about your thoughts and feelings about the pieces on display, he’s accidentally on purpose almost held your hand three times now. Next time he does it, you’re just going to grab his damn hand.

You stare at the sculpture in front of you, noting that you should have someone move this to a different room. In fact, there’s a few things you’ve noticed while showing Lucifer the art that you should have moved around. Maybe you’ve been neglecting the gallery a bit more than you thought now that you live at the hotel.

“Hey, Can I ask you about these?” Lucifer’s voice booms from the next room over. Sighing, you type a quick note into your V-Phone and turn.

Oh shit.

Lucifer found THAT room.

You cross the threshold into the room you never go into, the room with your own work. Honestly, it’s not even curated the way the other rooms and floors are. This is where you put anything that you think can leave your studio. He’s in front of one of your biggest paintings, and one of your newest. It’s an abstract piece about your feelings about redemption, about your past sins, about adjusting to the hotel. Which it sounds stupid when you put it like that, but it made sense in the moment and you’re proud of it.

He turns and smiles before looking back at the painting.

“Is the uh, is the artist willing to sell this piece?” he asks, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red.

Now it’s your turn to get nervous. You’ve never actually sold any of your own pieces before.

“I uh- I’m not gonna sell it to you,” you tell him, “You can have it.”

It would be weird to take money from Lucifer, even if he is offering. You like him a decent amount and a transaction between the two of you would make it weird. It would feel like you owe him, even though your art would technically satisfy that. If he was one of the Vees or someone you dislike, you would have immediately taken money.

“But the artist-“

“Me,” you clarify, and you finally remember you don’t tag your own art. Lucifer’s jaw drops at your admission.

“I’d really like to support your work, it’s magnificent,” Lucifer insists, and you feel your cheeks burning. He turns to gesture to another piece, and his knuckles brush your own.

Fuck it. You told yourself you’d do it. You grab Lucifer’s hand in your own, a bold move.

“Just think about it as a gift,” you tell him, “A thank you for the lovely day we’ve had.”

You inwardly cringe, knowing that when you recount today at the lobby bar your drinking buddies are going to tear you a new one for that corny line. But it fits for Lucifer; he’s bringing out a side of you that you really haven’t seen in a while.

“Thank you uh, gorgeous,” he tacks on the pet name like even he isn’t sure about it, and with his hand still in yours, attempts to lean against a sculpture, stumbling as he misses it and bringing you along with him. He tugs you by the arm, jerking you closer to him. He’s majorly out of practice.

“I have a studio upstairs if you want to see more?” you offer, not really sure if you thought that through.

“More art? Absolutely!” He recovers quickly, enthusiasm dripping from his voice.

You smile as you pull him towards the hallway, butterflies in your stomach as it dawns on you that he’s going to be the only person besides you to see the studio.

You and Lucifer end up staying there until Charlie calls him the next morning.

You notice paint on his chin after you get back to the hotel.

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader

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