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#the denial in this situation is what gets me
yappersblog · 3 days
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no one knows — paige bueckers [blurb]
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synopsis. paige and you aren’t together, but you’re definitely something.
trigger warnings. nothing, except maybe non-exclusive relationship (?) and little tiny bit of possessiveness.
author’s note. second time posting on tumblr 😋😋😋 and it’s kinda lame & not proof read so sorry people 🙏🏽 my requests are open sooo don’t be shy and request!
more fics. my emily engstler one. go take a look 💋
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everyone knows—your teammates know, your friends definitely know, your families know, your coach knows—hell, even your rival teams know too.
everybody knows that something is going on between you and paige, something that gets bigger and bigger everyday and that you should stop ignoring if you don’t want things to go wrong.
but, being your stubborn and dumb selves, the two of you don’t take your relatives’ advices seriously—apparently finding comfort in denial and in your instable relationship.
you’re not taken, but everyone in the university knows better than ask you on a date; all of them knowing perfectly well that paige might become their worst nightmare if they do.
same for paige—even if people didn’t really know how to approach her before, due to her being her intimidating self. they retract themselves even more now that you’re always attached to her hip, and the basketball player doesn’t help them either: the girl immediately playing with her chain—where your initials are written in gold—when someone starts to flirt with her, waiting for the stranger to understand that whatever they’re trying to do is pointless.
but despite all of this possessiveness, care and love that you feel for each other, none of you tried to make this a real relationship—one whose exclusive, and not only to the people but to you two.
the both of you are in love; it’s literally written on your foreheads and necklaces.
however, neither of you are brave enough to man-up and confess your feelings. so, for now, the two of you are stuck in this situation-ship, with unspoken feelings.
“yoooo! what up?” kk loudly screams while entering your dorm room, the rest of the team trailing behind her.
nika, aliyaah and inês make their way to you—the three of them hugging you—while the rest of the group goes to your fitted kitchen to put their snacks down.
“girl boo, don’t tell me you’ve been rotting on this couch since this morning…” kk literally exposes you, making ice chuckles and azzi slaps the back of her neck.
“kk, i know something else whose been rotting for more than a morning…” you say, munching on a cheeto that’s coming from aliyaah’s bag. “your braids!” the whole group bursts with laughter, kk side-eyeing you before laughing it off—taking a seat next to you.
that’s when paige finally decides to make an appearance, her arms free of bags full of snacks. laying against the softness of your couch, you don’t even hide yourself and check out the girl in front of you—your eyes moving from her grey nike tracksuit and her fitted shirt that shows off her biceps, to the glasses on the bridge of her nose and her slick back ponytail.
God, she’s so fine, you think to yourself—paige watching you intently with that smirk that makes you want to give her everything. she knows what’s going through your mind and you don’t even mind this fact.
“yo, get out of my seat kk” the blonde says, her hands deep in her tracksuit’s pockets.
“your seat? girl boo, since when?” kk says back, the sassy little girl coming out of her. you can’t help but chuckle, making paige’s blue eyes look in your direction.
“since forever, move!” trying to stand her ground, kk stays five more minutes next to you until paige decides to take matter into her own hands and pushes the girl on the floor carpet. “how you doing, ma?” the blonde’s arm makes its way around your shoulders, while it’s owner looks at you dead in your eyes and takes place on your right.
“doing good, you?” she doesn’t even respond, only nodding her head and licking her lips the next second—her blue pupils already trailing on her lips. you roll your eyes, popping a cheeto into her mid-opened mouth.
paige laughs, her arm tightening around your shoulders, and munches on the chip.
she smells clean, like a mix between fresh shower and sweet cologne. your favorite scent. actually, everything about her happens to be your favorite thing.
she looks like she’s about to say something, but kk—who has taken place on the floor carpet since she lost her spot on the couch—screaming to her phone screen, with ice on her right and aubrey on her left, stops her.
“oh god, always on live bro” the blonde mutters, glaring at the camera and detaching herself from you—making you frown.
popping another chip in your mouth, you side-eye her, not really understanding what her problem is.
oh so that’s how it is? okay.
your heart stings, but when invasive thoughts are starting to take hold of your mind—you feel a head on your chest and big ass biceps around your waist. your eyes look down, and you can’t help but grin when you see paige comfortably laying on your body—her right cheek pressed up against your breast.
immediately, your hand is playing with her blonde locks—all your attention focused on the girl in front of you and not on the recording live of kk.
“what’s up with y’all gay asses? come say hi to the people!” you hear the light-skinned player says, her head turned in your direction.
“hi people!” you don’t have any other choice but to greet the fans when the screen is being shoved in your face.
comments are flooding, and you try to read some of them, even if you already know that practically all of them are about paige.
“say hi!” paige groans against you, hiding her face even more into the crook of your neck. “okay, grumpy ass” kk laughs and takes back her phone. “what’s up with you?” you whisper-ask her once you’re ‘alone’.
“nothing” she grumbles and you know that whatever-it-is: it’s not nothing. you two keep up the eye contact for a few minutes, before she finally gives in and mutters against your collarbone: “i just don’t feel like sharing you right now, even though i don’t have the choice”
your brain doesn’t know to function for like two minutes before it works again and tells your blood to rush to your cheeks.
paige smirks a little, mushing even more herself into you, then presses a sneaky kiss on your neck.
she loudly hums against your skin, her nose sniffing it—snatching a frown and a giggle out of you.
“the fuck are you doing?” you laugh and she can’t help but laugh too—in love with your big ass smile.
“smellin’ you” the blonde does it again, but way more exaggerated than the first time, tickling you on purpose. “you smell good baby” she stops her little game once she feels you pinching her hip.
you thank her by smooching her cheek, feeling one of her dimples on your lips.
she retakes her place on your body, humming loudly. her arms tighten around you, and it feels like she’s trying to sneak herself into your body because she snuggles her face even more into your collarbone.
but you don’t mind, so that’s okay.
“their guns’ hot pink, that’s for sure” kk tells the live, fake side-eyeing the both of you while the rest of team cackle loudly—each of them knowing perfectly that they are hot pink as hell.
the two of you just exposed yourselves in front of an unknown number of fans, and none of you care—even though your faces might be trending on twitter tomorrow, people asking what kind of relationship you two are sharing.
and the most funny, is that even if you want to: neither you or paige can answer that question—and you don’t really care actually, the both of you just happy to be snuggled up together on this old couch, labelled or not.
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written by © yappersblog, i do not accept plagiarism—this is my work and only mine.
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candylix · 2 days
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one little lie | hyung line (part 1)
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Pairing • FWB!Minho x Fem!Reader x Hyung Line A/N • This is part 1 of the fic! There's going to be 3 parts total (if everything goes according to plan)
Summary • The boys have one rule in their shared apartment. Don't bring girls over for sex. So when Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin walk in on Minho fucking the living daylights out of you in the living room, he has to lie to save his own skin. His excuse? That's not a girl under him... you're a sex robot. And now they all want to try you out.
Genre • smut, sci-fi ish? (sex robots are a thing in this world that people know about and use)
WC • 3.6k
Content • reader pretends to be a sex robot, free use, dubcon, piv penetration, clit stimulation, groping, orgasm denial, creampie, unprotected sex
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"You like that?" Minho says, pounding his cock into your pussy over and over until you see stars. You're too fucked out to respond. You're lying naked on top of the coffee table in his apartment, feeling nothing but the cold wood on your back and his throbbing hot shaft inside you. The lewd noises of his dick slipping in and out of your sopping wet cunt fill the room, along with heavy panting and moans that escape your lips. He thrashes against you, hitting your g-spot again and again until you're a twitching mess under him.
You've known him for about a year, through your mutual friend Jisung, but Minho suggested this friends with benefits situation only recently. Normally, you went to your place for sex, knowing the rules his roommates had about bringing people over for it. He told you about a one night stand gone extremely wrong, so it made sense why they would ban it altogether. But, you found out, Minho liked a little bit of danger, so he brought you over when all the guys would be away.
His pace is uncoordinated and relentless, but your mind is too clouded to care. You just want to feel him go deeper and faster against your sweet spot. You moan his name, and his bucking gets stronger until he's almost ramming his entire body into you. You can feel your orgasm coming, and your walls clench around his cock as he keeps slamming into you.
And then you hear the door unlock. You both freeze. His dick is fully inside you, frantically throbbing and twitching, but the man it belongs to is still as a statue. He looks you in the eyes, and mouths the words 'stay still'.
Three men you don't know walk in, chatting amongst themselves, until they see your naked body on their table and Minho with his pants down on the other side.
"Minho, what the fuck," one of them says, and slams the door shut. He's shorter than the others, but way more muscular, and you think you recognize him from the photos Minho showed you of his roommates. You think that must be Changbin.
"Guys, it's not what it looks like," Minho says.
He quickly pulls out of you, and you resist the moan that threatens to escape. He scrambles to pull up his pants and look presentable. You can't say the same for yourself. You're entirely exposed in front of these four men, and now that your only heat source has left, you're very cold as well.
"Ok, well, it looks like you brought a girl home and were fucking her on the table," another man responds. He has long hair and a pretty face, and you assume that must be Hyunjin. Minho didn't let you look at his pictures for very long, for fear that you'd swoon over him instead of Minho (not that he'd admit that, of course).
"N-no," he stammers, "let me explain." Changbin folds his arms, but they let him continue. "This is actually... a sex robot. Yeah."
A sex robot. That's why he wanted you to stay still. He wanted you to pretend to be a sex robot.
It's not like sex robots don't exist, or are even uncommon. In fact, you saw a viral tweet about a guy who 'married' a sex robot just the other day. The technology is getting better and better every year, so it's certainly plausible.
That didn't mean you thought this was a good plan, though.
The third guy, who you assumed was Chan, cocked an eyebrow.
"You bought a sex robot?" he asked, and walked over to inspect you. You kept your eyes straight ahead, and tried to control your breathing.
"No, uh, I'm just borrowing her. From a friend. I have to return her later," Minho says. He's clearly flustered in his lie, but he plays it off as embarrassment for being caught in the act.
The other two walk over to inspect you as well, and you do your best to lie still and emotionless. Your heart feels like it's beating out of your chest.
"What friend? What kind of person would let you just... borrow a sex robot?" Changbin asks.
"Jisung," Minho answers, and they look oddly satisfied with that answer.
"That makes sense," Changbin says, and you wonder what kind of relationship they have with Jisung that makes this believable. You've known him for a long time, and he's a normal guy. What has he done to make them think that?
You can't wonder for long, because Hyunjin grabs your boob and pulls on the flesh. You almost yelp in surprise, but you bite your tongue to stop yourself.
"It's surprisingly realistic for a sex doll," he says, and gropes your breast some more, admiring how 'real' you felt.
"Ew, don't touch that," Chan says. He smacks Hyunjin's hand away from your chest. "Minho was just fucking it, you don't know where that's been."
Hyunjin quickly yanks his hand back to his own body and wipes his hand on his pants.
"She's a sex robot, not a sex doll," Minho corrects, "I have some class."
Hyunjin rolls his eyes. You're not looking at anyone directly, but from the corner of your eye you can see Changbin scanning your body, exploring every inch of you by sight alone.
You tried not to think about how exposed you were to these men, who talked about you and touched you and looked at you like an object. Minho managed to get out of trouble, but now you had to lie here and just take all this to protect him. You don't know why you did. By all means, you should've gotten up, put your clothes back on, and left Minho forever. That's the normal thing to do.
But as they talk about the sex robot in their room, Minho gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze and his guilty expression bores into your soul. His pleading eyes say sorry in a thousand unspoken words, and you resign yourself back to lying there and being pretty.
"Well," Minho says, patting your thigh, "I should probably bring her back to Jisung now. I'm sure he misses her dearly."
At least it would be over soon. It was smart to bring up Jisung; now he has an excuse why you can't stay here. Good thinking, Minho.
"Wait," Changbin says. All eyes go to him, and he coughs awkwardly before finishing his sentence. "I've never seen a sex robot this realistic."
Your heart almost stops. You were almost home free, and he managed to figure it out. It would be super embarrassing if you had to just get up and leave after all this.
Changbin scratches the back of his head, and looks away from the boys.
"Jisung can just pick her up later, right? She looks... really real."
The other two men look back at you, and their eyes look over every curve of your body.
"What are you trying to say..." Minho gulps, and you dread the words that come next.
"Don't make me say it, man."
"You want to use Jisung's sex robot?" Chan says in shock.
"I kind of want to try it out too," Hyunjin says, sheepishly.
Chan's face turns bright red, and he looks back and forth between the two of them.
"Are you guys serious!?"
"Come on Chan, what's the harm," Changbin says, slightly more confident now that he knows he's not the only one that wants to take you for a spin. "When life presents you with an opportunity, you take it."
"When life gives you a sex robot, you fuck it," Hyunjin adds.
Minho is unforgivably silent. He's sweating bullets, racking his brain for some sort of solution to get you out of there. Under normal circumstances, he'd be able to solve any problem on the fly. But these are not normal circumstances, and he appears to be short-circuiting.
"You guys are crazy," Chan says, but his eyes travel down your body to the sticky mess that is your pussy. "You should, uh, clean her up before we- THEY use her."
Hyunjin laughs at his slip of the tongue.
"Yeah, I'll go do that now," Minho says, desperate to end this conversation.
He lifts you up off the table, and your back is stiff from lying flat on it for way too long. Fortunately, it helps sell the robot look. With one hand under your arm, he pretends to hold you up, and he walks you over to the bathroom.
Changbin whistles in amazement.
"Wow, it can kind of walk. Technology is amazing."
You enter the bathroom, and Minho sets you down on the closed toilet seat. He quickly shuts the door and locks it. He turns around and leans his back on the door, out of breath from nerves.
"What the hell was that!?" you whisper-yell. You had every right to be angry in this moment.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know what to do!"
"You could've just told them the truth! A sex robot!?"
"I know. That was the only thing I could think of. But I can fix this. I'll call Jisung and tell him what happened, and he'll come pick you up."
"No. You can't tell him any of this."
"I have to. I can't risk him saying something like 'Hi, I'm here to pick up my friend that I've known for years and is definitely a real person and not a robot.' I have to tell him."
"Fine," you say, and your heartbeat finally calms down. Minho can stall in here until Jisung arrives. Everything is going to be alright.
Minho takes out his phone to call Jisung. The phone rings... and rings... and rings... and you finally hear a voice on the other end.
"Hey!"
"Jisung, I really need your help-"
"I'm really busy right now, probably hanging out with some babes at the beach. Leave a message at the tone and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Or not, who knows."
A long beep plays out over the speaker.
Of course it went to voicemail. It's a weekday. He's at work, like a normal person on a Wednesday afternoon.
"Jisung, call me back ASAP. It's an emergency," Minho says, and hangs up the phone.
"Why did he have to be a functioning member of society today," you complain.
"Do you know when he gets off work?"
"Around 5, I think."
Minho looks at his phone clock.
"It's 1:07."
"God damn it," you whisper, and bury your face in your hands.
"Look at the bright side," he says, and you turn your head to squint your eyes at him. "You came here to get fucked, right?"
You don't say anything, hoping the silence and the irritation on your face spoke for you.
It clearly didn't, because he continues.
"Even I can tell they're good looking guys. Well, they're not me, but still good looking."
"Minho, I came here to be fucked by you. I know who you are, it's different."
He gets down on his knees and begs.
"Please please please do this for me. I'll literally do anything. I'll fuck you whenever and however you want for the rest of your life."
"That's all?"
He hesitates, searching for an answer that will convince you to get fucked by his roommates. There's not a lot that would convince anyone, but thankfully, this time he has an answer.
"I'll pay your rent this month."
"You'll pay my rent this year."
"I don't think I make enough for that..." You tsk at him, and he gives you a better answer. "What about every other month for a year?"
"Deal."
You shake hands.
Finally done talking, he cleans you up with a wet towel. You stand up, take a deep breath, and when you're ready, Minho opens the door and pretends to walk you back to the living room.
"That took a while," Hyunjin said.
"Yeah, I had to, uh, refill the liquid."
"The what?" Chan asks.
"She's self lubricating and has the ability to orgasm, but I used up all the liquid when I was... you know. So she had to be refilled." It's funny how quick he thought of that lie, but he couldn't think of something earlier to get you out of this mess. And by funny, you mean not funny at all.
"Whoa," Changbin says, "what other functionality does she have?"
Minho doesn't miss a beat. "She has realistic moans. You've got to hit her sweet spots to hear them, though."
"She's got a speaker?" Chan asks. He's starting to get interested in the idea of fucking a sex robot, much to your dismay. "Can she say other stuff? Like..." he pauses, flustered at what he wants to say next. "Can she say your name?"
"Yup! She has this really cool recognition software." You want to elbow him in the ribs. He has too much free reign with your 'features', and he makes it worse the more he talks.
"So what you do is, insert your dick in her and say your name. She'll recognize your unique dick patterns and remember the name you set. Any time you use her in the future, she'll know it's you."
What the hell is he talking about.
He's clearly having fun with this. Hopefully, that's all you can do.
"That's... actually really cool," Chan admits.
"Ok, I need to try that out. What else can she do?" Hyunjin asks excitedly.
"Oh, she can-" Minho starts, but you kick the back of his foot to stop him from saying anything else. "Actually, I'll let you find out for yourself. All the stuff she has is very realistic."
"I call dibs," Changbin says. Hyunjin whines, but Changbin is already lifting your body, throwing you over his shoulder to take you to his room. He drops you on his bed, and you do your best to stiffen your body against the impact, but you bounce on his springy mattress. His eyes are glued to your chest as your back hits the bed, and watches as your boobs bounce a second time.
He spreads open your legs, and you realize this is really happening. You're going to get fucked by multiple men who think you're an advanced fleshlight. Just the thought of that makes your core pulse, but you don't know why. His fingers trace a line down your pussy from top to bottom, and you shiver under his touch. "He said you're self lubricating, but you're not wet yet..." he starts, before realizing what else Minho told him. "Oh right, you're supposed to be realistic. Maybe this will do the trick."
He draws rough circles around your clit, and your eyes flutter closed at the feeling. After everything that happened, you forgot you were seconds away from an orgasm. Your body is still hungry for someones touch, and it doesn't care who gives it to you.
The more he rubs, the deeper the feeling in your core gets. It doesn't take long for you to start rocking against his hand, and he admires how your body reacts to him. He's already getting hard just watching you writhing under his fingers. "I can't believe I get this pretty thing all to myself," he says, and those words only strengthen the orgasm starting to build. His fingers slide more easily around your clit, and he realizes you're wet enough to stop.
You whimper at the loss of contact when he takes his hand away. He pulls down his pants, then his boxers, and he can finally start using you the way he intended. He drags his fingers down your sensitive core, collecting your juices. He rubs it over his cock, pumping it a few times, and you can feel him stretching you open with his fingers.
"Let's test out this name recognition thing," he says, and you feel his dick prodding at your entrance.
He slides it in, and you're overwhelmed by how thick he is. He puts it in slowly, and you can feel him stretch you out. Your walls clench around his girth, and he fills you up inch by inch as he pushes deeper inside. You can't help but moan as he reaches the end, his tip pressing against a sensitive spot when he bottoms you out.
"Changbin," he says, and it takes a moment for you to remember what he's doing. "Changbin," you repeat, slightly moaning his name. His dick throbs inside you, increasing the pressure against your walls. "Oh, fuck. That's hot." He pulls most of his cock out of you, and you feel it drag along your walls. He pushes it back in, slightly faster. He pumps in and out of you, and the bed creaks as he pushes his way back in. You're tight around his massive girth, and with each roll of his hips he stretches you out more.
He rocks into you with a steady rhythm, feeling every inch of you around him. They way he can barely fit inside you turns him on more. Your wet cunt wraps around his dick perfectly, and the slight pressure makes him groan as he feels his orgasm building. His rocking gets slightly more frenzied when you moan his name, and each time he buries his cock in you, it hits you with more force.
He speeds up his pace, and he can't control the rhythm anymore. He's panting over you, holding on to your waist while his cock pounds into you over and over. His can feel his climax coming, and he bucks into you harder to chase the feeling. Every time he slams into your g-spot, you moan his name louder, and his head rolls back as each moan takes him closer to the edge. The pleasure takes over your mind completely, and you don't care that you're shouting his name every time his massive dick rams itself deep inside you. He hits your sensitive spot one last time, and you moan loudly as you gush around his cock. You spasm under him as your orgasm washes over you, and your erratic movements are what finishes him off. He gasps, and hot liquid spurts out inside you. He slows down his rocking, and you lay in exhaustion as he rides out his high. When he finally pulls out, his semen drips out of you, overflowing down your pussy and onto his bed.
He collapses onto the bed next to you, and you hear his ragged breaths in your ear as his heartbeat slows down. You come back to reality, realizing what just happened. A part of you can't believe you let this happen, let a stranger fuck you until you came all over him, all because you covered for Minho.
The other part of you can't believe how thick Changbin was, and how good he felt when he was inside you. You almost want to beg him for more, beg him to fuck you again and again until you can't move the next day, but you can't. You're a sex robot, and you can't break the illusion. You wish you met him under different circumstances. "Fuck... I need to steal this thing from Jisung," he says, finally catching his breath. That's an idea. If Minho brings you back here, Changbin can use you as much as he likes. Suddenly, your rationality comes back. You can't seriously be thinking of doing this again, right?
When Changbin is finally able to stand, he leaves you dripping on his bed and goes to the door. "Hey Minho?" he yells, loud enough for the guys to hear it in any room of the apartment. "You might want to come refill her." He leave you in the room by yourself, and a moment later Minho comes in. Seeing you splayed out on another mans bed with his cum leaking out of you... it does something to him. He resists the urge to rub his crotch, fearing it might make his growing erection more visible. Changbin comes back with a wet towel, ready to wipe you down, but Minho gets to him first. "I'll take care of that, don't worry," he says, and grabs the towel from Changbin's hands. "You sure? I can just do it myself." "She has specific care instructions. And I have to check how much fluid she has left anyway. I got it." Changbin shrugs, and watches as Minho lifts you up and walks you back to the bathroom. You take your seat back on the closed toilet, and Minho locks the door again. You're still breathing heavily after that interaction. "You ok?" he asks. You're not sure how to say yes, it was amazing and I hope he does it again without embarrassing yourself. "I'm good," is what you finally settle on. "I'm just-" you start, but Minho brings the cold towel to your core, and you twitch at the sudden contact. "Still sensitive?" he asks, and you nod. "I'll let Hyunjin know to be gentle with you." "Is he next?" "Yeah, he wouldn't stop grumbling about how it wasn't fair that Changbin got to go first." He wipes Changbin's fluids off you, pressing the towel softly against your body so you're not overstimulated.
"I'll give you a more thorough wash when Jisung picks you up." Your eyes light up at Jisungs name. "Did he call back?" "Yup. And he found the whole situation extremely funny." You groan. You're never going to live this down. "But he'll come as soon as he can," Minho continues, and you breathe a sigh of relief. A knock on the door makes you jump. "Are you done in there?" you hear a voice ask, and Minho's eye twitches. "Give me a sec, Hyunjin. Just wait in your room." When you hear his footsteps getting farther away, Minho's face relaxes. "Guess you better get going before Mr. Impatient has an aneurysm."
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fraugwinska · 22 hours
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I'm dying to see you write Alastor opening up to Reader about his mom, maybe a little angst and lots of fluff? (- v -)''
WE NEED THAT MOMMAS BOY GETTING SOME COMFORT!
Finally Anon, I found the strengh to write this. Sorry it took so long - I hope it was worth the wait! Next story will be less sad, I promise! :'< But I think we can all find some love for our Mommas Boy today, right? (Prepare your handkerchiefs, fellas...)
❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️
Mother O'Mine
Not the kitchen. Not the lobby. Not the bar. Not the radio tower. Not his room.
You sighed and stilled for a moment, thinking of a place where he could've gone.
If Angel had just shut his damn mouth. Mother's day was a shit day for everyone in the hotel. You, who never knew a mother, raising yourself in the farce that had been the foster care system, rued the day. Charlie was still in denial about her mothers blatant absence and ignorance, Husk melancholic and tense at the memory of seeing his mother being exterminated shortly after reuniting with her in hell, and Vaggie bitterly wanted to ignore the holiday all together, feeling as though she would be betraying the mother she could no longer reach in heaven as a fallen angel.
Angel had been pissing them all off by breakfast, obnoxiously mocking their various reasons of why this day felt even heavier than others in hell. You knew it was his own way of coping with his mommy issues - something he didn't even talk about with Husk, as far as you knew, but he bordered on being not only menacing, but outright cruel.
Alastor had listened to his rambling stoically, flipping eggs while drinking his coffee with not much more than an annoyed twitch in his brow, but then the spider made the gruesome mistake to mention her.
Alastor's mom.
"What, 'ya think any of 'ya mothers could even look at 'ya without punchin' themselves? Come on, look me in the eyes and tell me Bambi's mommy wouldn't be fuckin' disappointed by what her little fawn has become... Can ya really see a sweet southern lady all happy, lovin', and coddling ol' murder-clown Alas..."
The green explosion came faster than you could blink. You were frozen in place, only staring in fear and worry when Angel landed unceremoniously into the table with the rest of the breakfast, the other residents as shocked and dazed as you were, while the radio static and greenish-black shadows seeped away from Alastor who then swiftly made his way out without a word, holding his staff while his tendrils bristled dangerously.
Alastor had vanished and the only thought coming to your mind - after giving a cursing, groaning Angel a righteous 'You fucking deserved that'-speech - was that you needed to find him before the princess did to make sure the demon had calmed enough not to finally lose it and maul her to pieces. Charlie meant well, but she didn't know. No one did know, except for you, and even you only knew so much.
It's not like it had been an elaborate talk. It just happened, after a nightmare that made him tear up in a mixture of rage and sorrow, a bad memory that had made his shadow basically drag you, half asleep still, from your bed to his in the middle of the night. Why you? You weren't so sure. Alastor usually preferred your company more than the others just because you were the most neutral, sane person in the hotel. Some would even say impassive. An introvert who didn't draw attention, silent and observing. But not once had his shadow ever acted up around you, and while it wasn't overly friendly with anyone, it seemed to watch mostly you with curious glances and interested hisses. When you had finally woken up enough to comprehend your situation, you were sprawled across Alastors stomach with his arms wound so tightly around you you struggled to breathe, strained mumbled words pressed through gritted teeth into your nightgown.
"Mother... I'm sorry... Oh mother..."
He had been sobbing into your shoulders and and shaking against your chest while he let go of a strange anger and grief he never seemed to get rid of while you had, confused but worried, whispered words of comfort in a hushed, soothing voice until you both dozed back to sleep. Morning broke, and when you opened your eyes again, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, not able to look you in the eyes. He had thanked you, gruffly and with an unsteady voice that made your heart ache, before offering his hand to teleport you back to your room. As far as you were concerned, the weirdest of it was that you felt him caress the palm of your hand with his thumb, barely audible as he mumbled that "that should have never have happened, and we shall never speak of it again." - he was usually a gentleman, and he never touched you this intimately before - but, to him, it was obviously a humiliating and horrible thing that you had witnessed him like that.
And you didn't speak of it. No one knew, and you intended to keep it that way. It was a moment you shared and fragile trust was on the table. You would take it to your second grave, along with all those feelings that had come with it, to prevent it from breaking.
Back to the present, you sighed and massaged the bridge of your nose. You had checked all the obvious places that crossed your mind, so maybe, you should start to look at the not-so-obvious ones... Maybe some place you knew was connected to... His mom...
A sudden pang hit you as you got an idea of where he might be hiding.
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"Is this seat taken?"
The roof of the hotel was usually restricted from access, due to the general instability and collapse-prone architecture it presented, but you and (after an admittedly awkward encounter on a hot day that had involved you in a two-pieced swimsuit sunbathing and a very flustered Alastor with a book in one and a severed hand on a plate in the other hand) the radio demon knew about a small nook between the roof's overhead window frames and the hotel's ventilation system, hidden by the growing shadow of the radio tower where no one else ever came looking. A hideout, a place to go when you wanted undisturbed solitude. You had quickly left the place, apologizing for intruding a space that Alastor had apparently already claimed for himself (explaining the existence of the lounge chair you've so rudely used), but soon enough he discreetly invited you back, second chair added, to sit in silence together every once in a while, as long as you swore secrecy. It became a place of comfort for both of you, a retreat when life in the hotel got too stressful.
Alastor's reaction to seeing you was a quickly stifled hum before going back to staring stubbornly at the horizon. He looked dejected, and if you would not have known him so well, you wouldn't have noticed the trembling twitch of his ears nor the way his claw tapped impatiently against his knee, his shadow balled in on itself while hovering at the edge of the small roof.
It looked like he was staring straight through the distant buildings of the pentagram to the faintly illuminated orb that was heaven next to hells own sun, while also refusing to acknowledge you or the world around him at all. His smile had slipped into an emotionless line of pursed lips.
"That depends" he mused quietly. "Are you here to make me return to that insolent arachnid and attempt a 'healing' conversation?"
"I think you know I know that I couldn't even if i wanted to." You tried a weak smile.
Alastor briefly met your eyes at that, giving away that, despite his aloof act, your comment got his attention and he considered it before turning back to the horizon, the tense posture relaxing somewhat. A brief silence passed until he hummed an affirmative noise. "Then you may sit, darling."
After sitting down, minutes passed without a word said. The distant roar of the bustling traffic carried the muffled sounds of hell with the usual maelstrom of catcalling, profanities and general noises of mayhem to you, while you fought to keep a certain twitch in your hands as you counted the beats of his heels clicking on the tiles.
"You must know... my mother was a rare light in a world of filth." he declared suddenly into the silence. "An honest, virtuous soul of beauty and strength." He said it slowly and, surprisingly, completely unamused, the clacking of his shoes ceasing at once. He stared at the city in contempt, hands clasped together and resting on his legs to hold back a tremble that you caught anyway.
"She, unlike me, had not a spec of corruption in her bones. Wherever she found the warmth and love she shared with me, I cannot fathom. But she did. I may have been mocked and shunned by the world, the bastard child of a black woman and a white man, but I always had her as my home to return to.” The knuckles on his hands turned white. “But the cruelty of life and the disgusting human that was my father, the unbearable excuse of a man, killed her before I was grown enough to help. Before I was old enough to kill that monster myself." He spat the words, claws digging deeper until a faint trickle of blood could be seen. "I remedied that circumstance, twice to be exact, although it couldn't make up for what was lost. Nothing I did to him could make up for it..." his smile widened bitterly as his face twitched, recalling a fond, yet regretful memory. "… and believe me, I tried. But it was cathartic nonetheless, and quite educational... for my further career."
You stayed quiet and studied his profile, patiently waiting for him to continue talking. It was painfully obvious how hard it was for him to speak about actual feelings, with his tense grin and his white knuckles dripping with crimson blood.
"I knew, of course, where I would end up after my demise, and that I would never be able to see her again. Because I was sure she'd end up in heaven, like the saint she was. Is." He cleared his throat, attempting to appear dismissive, but you saw it. The sadness, the longing, the resignation, and it shattered your heart.
"Alastor...", you knew he hated physical touch, but your hand reached out on its own, to stop his hands from ripping themselves apart. He stiffened at the contact, but said nothing.
"Don't tell me you took what Angel said to heart..."
"How could my mother love me after what I've become after her death?"
His tone was monotonous, but his hands trembled under your fingers. He refused to look at you, but you saw his eyes, glazed with wetness that threatened to turn into actual tears. How he could still smile was beyond you, you had your theories on that, but that wasn't important right now. What mattered was that he was hurting, and that fact broke your heart. You never knew motherly love, how could you really miss something you never really knew? But Alastor did, and it had been ripped from him in the must cruel way, the impact of it so hard it made him even question the very foundation it was built upon.
You moved your hand from his to cup his cheek and turn his face to yours. His expression was blank, and if it weren't for the tight grin and the eyes filled with an unspeakable anguish, it would have been an emotionless stare.
"Alastor, do you know the poem Mother O'Mine?"
"I'm afraid the memory of it fails me, darling."
"Then, I'll recite it for you."
"Why?"
You gave him a sad smile.
"Because I want to."
He eyed you with stunned curiosity as you reached into your pocket, glad for once for your mostly useless power. You've only told Husk about it, in one of your late nights where everyone else was asleep aside him and your insomnia got the better of you, drunk and as a bargaining chip for one last gin tonic.
The blank piece of paper was a bit crumpled, but it would do. You started to fold it while you spoke, your voice sounded soft and almost like a spell.
"If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!"
Your fingers moved with a solemn purpose as you folded the paper this way and that, a skill you perfected out of boredom over the years, the edges turning into an elegant shape, the poem coming from your mouth like a song. Alastor watched your hands move in a trance, not sure what you were doing, but too focused on the faint glow of purple around them to ask.
"If I were drowned in the deepest sea, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose tears would come down to me, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!"
There in your hand, sat a little origami bird. It wasn't anything special, maybe a traditional crane would have been better, more elegant, but you were out of practice and for what you intended to do it would work either way. Carefully you reached out, silently demanding for one of Alastor's hands that were still digging into each other. He didn't protest, and slowly raised it to give his hand to you. The tips of his claws were covered in a thin, fresh layer of his own blood, and his skin was warm and slightly clammy. You put the little paper bird on his palm, a speck of his blood staining the bottom of the pristine white paper, and closed his fingers around it, holding it in both of yours.
"If I were damned of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine."
His enclosed hand in your own was encased in purple light, with wide eyes he followed the soft tugs of your fingers and opened his hand. The little paper bird flapped it's wings on his flat palm, looking at him for a heartbeat before taking off and flew in a singular circle around his head before it headed into hells deep red sky, towards the bright heavenly sphere. You watched it until it vanished completely from view, hoping there was a possibility that maybe, with a bit of luck, it would find it's way to her.
"This, Alastor, is what a real mother is. She loves you, I'm sure of it. Always has and always will."
Tears fell silently on his lap, a strangled, coarse breath escaping him. Without warning, he pulled you from your chair into him, holding you pressed close to him. Just like in the night of his nightmare, his face was buried in your chest, arms wound tightly around you in a hurting embrace and shoulders trembling with suppressed grief. His grip was bordering on painful, but you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying one of your hands in his hair, stroking gently while you let him quietly cry into your shoulder, not caring that the wetness of his tears was soaking through the fabric of your shirt. You felt his heart beating rapidly, his pulse erratic and his breathing fast.
"I miss her. Oh, how I miss her."
You held him tighter.
"I know, Al... I know."
You didn't know how long you two stayed like this, him in your arms and crying silently while you tried your best to comfort him, but you didn't care. As far as you were concerned, you would stay here forever if it only meant to lift this weight for a little while from his shoulders.
It took him some time, but eventually his breathing evened out, and he calmed down, his hold becoming less desperate and more... affectionate. You didn't realize it at first, but he had moved, his head resting under your chin and his forehead leaning against the hollow of your throat, his antlers slightly poking the thin skin. It felt strangely intimate, and you wondered if he was aware of what he was doing, but the moment he moved to get up and leave, you knew the spell was broken. He didn't let go of you entirely, but instead helped you to stand up and held your hand, his gaze firmly planted to the ground, avoiding your eyes.
"Darling, I..."
"Don't worry, Alastor. Although I'm glad I was able to be here when it happened... we shall never speak of this again."
You could feel his hesitation, a strange nervousness radiating from him. His shadow hovered next to him, a hand reaching out towards your face. You smiled at it, and, just for a brief moment, allowed yourself to lean into it's warm, buzzing touch as it caressed your cheek, before you turned and made your way back inside without a glance back to the sudden sound of a longing hum.
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greenandsorrow · 8 hours
Text
~Her man child~
Headcanons 📻
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Al can be a ruthless, intimidating and manipulative specimen. Still, he turns into a grinning goofball when in your presence.
When first meeting a demon such as Alastor, one of the things you notice before anything else is their dominating and confident aura.
BUT let me tell you something miss!!
No matter how soft or feminine, seductive, masculine/ androgynous, childish or serious you are... The deer man LOVES to be babied by you.
Only behind closed doors that is.
And I'm not even talking about your intimate moments yet!
Alastor, as someone with a lot in his mind -always planning his moves in advance and always controlling situations- likes the comforting and tender touch or words of a woman.
He can relax and allow someone else to take care of things for once.
It makes him all giggly and silly when you do baby him. To him, you're a nurturing presence just like his mother once was.
His braincells vanish and he just accepts anything you have in store for him.
You wanna squeeze his pale cheeks? Comb your fingers through his hair? Play some monstrosity of a game that Niffty suggested?
Count him in girl!!!
Cook for him and he'll forever be your protector.
Scratch his back and give him a massage after he was live on air and he'll turn into putty, little grunts of pleasure making you smile enough for your cheeks to hurt.
There's always this sparkle of a child's excitement when he comes to your room (chest full of pride and a smug grin on his face) to read you the notes for his next live transmittion.
His jealousy is also that of a child's.
A pout, a crease between his brows and hunched shoulders.... YOU WERE LAUGHING WHILE WATCHING TELEVISION????
How dare you? You traitor...
VOX made you laugh?!
No way.
Alastor is better. He's gonna prove himself to you.
Expect a ton of dad jokes. Expect him bullying all your friends just to see you crack a smile, because he's gonna know he's the reason behind it.
On the same note. What are boundaries?
The more you get to know Al, the more the gentleman persona gives way to an all consuming boy that wants ALL of your attention to himself.
He throws unnecessary tantrums.
Your deer man makes up little songs about how miserable he is when you choose to help Charlie in her drawings, instead of listening to him rumbling about a new way to embarrass Vox.
And he makes sure to sing them when you pass by.
Alastor is always hungry. It doesn't look like it, but this man is always munching on something.
He doesn't like his scars. But this aversion doesn't come from a place of insecurity about his appearance.
It's the meaning behind them that messes with his head.
A deer with the marks his predators left on him. He is not prey to anybody.
That's why he allows humans and demons alike to think of him as a Wendigo. It's less humiliating in his point of view.
But isn't that another childish response of denial to his demon manifestation?
He talks in his sleep, tossing and turning, shifting closer to you until you hardly have any space left on the bed.
You of course have fallen down from it. Luckily for you, his rugs are plush and thick.
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He can go for hours without any rest whatsoever.
He loves loves LOVES eye contact. He relishes in the way your features contort in pleasure, the way you open your mouth for a soundless moan to escape, the subtle way your eyes roll back when he hits that spot deep inside you. He just has to see your face during the act.
Alastor is rather proud of his manhood. A bit arrogant even.
So, even though Al won't be the type to directly ask for reassurance on his performance, he finds the validation he needs in your body's reactions to him.
Mommy issues.
Again, it doesn't matter if you're more of a soft and submissive woman, or a powerful and dominant one, YOU ARE MOMMY.
And he's your boy. He's gonna please you till your legs are shaking and your toes are curling.
Are you a pillow princess? He's gonna fuck you like his life depends on it. Pounding into you, making sure you're full of his seed and content. Breeding kink<3
You like being in control of the situation? He's gonna let you have it. In reality, you both know that he can break you in half with one hand behind his back, but he allows you to have him like that.
It's such a big turn on for the radio demon to see you use his body as you please.
Because you don't use it and then discard it afterwards.
You make sure he's warm and cosy at the end of your steamy times. And he does the same with you.
His proper manners show on the way he's gentle with you, after lust gives way to tranquility.
Alastor has never used the word "aftercare" for it but he treats you like a queen regardless.
Once you're both in the bathtub and he's certain you're not in pain or in any discomfort, then he allows himself to relax.
And there he is... rubbing his head against your chest and letting out a small moan when you wrap your arms around his lean frame.
He's also more than happy to eat you out. This man has a very talented tongue and if he teases... Alastor likes to play, but he knows he's gonna be teased back and even denied relief so he is cautious about it.
When you go down on your knees for him, Alastor has to hold himself back from cumming just from the image in front of him.
You're aware of that, so you never go all out and he makes sure to keep his hips still. Lick his head like a lollipop and hold his balls through it and he'll be a whimpering mess, ears pulled back and drool collecting on his lower lip.
Al is big on bonding. He doesn't trust anyone so the fact that he trusts you... You're his partner for life (for afterlife?).
You're not complaining, are you?
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my masterlist || Hazbin Hotel masterlist 🫀
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Alastor divider by @rubra-wav
Support divider by @cafekitsune
The explicit content one... I don't remember :(
~~~
Let me know if you want me to do one with Vox as well!! (the man child trope thingy that is)
96 notes · View notes
fandom-go-round · 19 hours
Note
Obey Me! Demon Brothers’ #1 kinks?
I did some classics and some new ones here, just having some fun. Hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Sex, Sexual Situations, Wax Play, Orgasm Denial, Somophilia, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Cock Warming, Voyeurism, Semi Public Sex, Sex Videos, Taking Photos During Sex
Lucifer is really into wax play. Not just the wax of course but the entire set up and prep. Having you willingly give into him, let him tie you up and then trust him to know your limits? He’s so hard it hurts. You’ve already cum twice before he even gets to the candles, the scent your favorite. He’s determined to draw this out so be ready; he’s not going to stop until the flames snuff out.
Mammon is into orgasm denial, both for himself and you. There are days when he’s being extra whiny and bratty. Those are the best days to make him work for his orgasm; he’ll do anything to cum. Be ready for him to flip the scrip though. He wants you to feel good for as long as you let him. He wants all of your attention all of the time. Call him a brat or praise him, as long as you give it your all and Mammon will return it times ten.
Levi’s biggest kink is anal sex. It doesn’t sound like much but it’s the one thing Levi goes back to consistently. He loves are sorts of things but has issues expressing what he really wants. Anal is ‘tame’ enough that he doesn’t mind requesting it and that makes him more comfortable to bring up other kinks. He always wants to use his tail, especially when doing anal. Be clear and gentle with Levi and he’ll reveal all his dirty secrets to you.
Satan loves a long cock warming session. It’s two fold; he loves being close and intimate with you but he’s also a horrible tease and wants to see how long you can hold out. He’ll happily pick up a book or start studying with you in his lap. He might scold you for squirming but he doesn’t mean it; Satan loves seeing how desperate you are for him. If you’re ever able to reverse the positions? He’s not going to last long, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes as he grits his teeth. He’s gorgeous.
Asmo loves voyeurism in all forms. From having sex in a semi-public space to teasing you in public, he’s into it all. He never wants to do it where you’ll actually get caught but the thrill can get him going. If you’re not into that, it’s alright. Asmo also loves to take pictures of you and record videos. His eyes only of course! But if you pose for him and let him snap a quick pic? Oooh he’ll love you even more!
Beel is a man with simple tastes. Simple tastes meaning you on his tongue of course. He’s into oral, not if ands or buts. Beel is happiest between your legs, wherever is most comfortable for you. On the bed? He’ll kneel on the floor. Straddling his face? Don’t worry babe, he’s got you. Against the wall? He’ll hold you up. Just don’t ask him to stop any time soon, he’s content where he is.
Belphie isn’t a huge surprise but he loves sleepy sex. He loves the feeling of being half awake and sliding into you, rolling his hips slowly. It’s even better when you’re the one riding him, barely raising your hips as you fuck yourself on him. He can’t help but mark you up with his teeth and hands; his hips might not be moving but that doesn’t mean the rest of him isn’t.
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Note
If it's okay with you can you continue the series where Gojo was giver the reader "lessons." I love that series so much, you did an amazing job writing it😭 I would love to see more parts of that series.
I'm so glad you're enjoying them! However I believe I may be running out of ideas for lessons, so I may have to call this one the last part of the series. But you are still more than welcome to request anything else, my friend.
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Title: A Hands on Lesson: Lesson 3 (A continuation from Lesson Two)
Characters: Gojo x m!reader
Contains: light BDSM, blindfolding, fingering, praise/degradation, pet names(love), orgasm control/denial
Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen
Full request below the cut
All characters are 18+
MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI
Reblogs > likes
"Alright, are you all situated?" Satoru's voice after moments of silence settled your nerves, your position, however, not helping.
Your head rested on a couple soft pillows, eyes once again shielded with Satoru's signature eyecloth(you both had agreed it was a thrilling addition to the sessions), and arms gently tied behind you as your lower half was propped on a support foam pillow to help keep you up without getting tired. The perfect doggy style position for a novice like you, posed in a way where Satoru could properly teach you.
Speaking of...
"I-I'm alright. But...uh...w-what's...the lesson this time?"
Satoru's fingers gently brushed up your bare leg, the limb flinching from the touch. They glided up from the spot, leaving your skin already aching for more of his touch.
"Let's see..." The way Satoru spoke was like he was counting on his fingers. "You handled receving and giving a handjob, excelled in giving a blowjob...now..." Pausing, it felt like his presence was gone, but he simply positioned himself by your exposed ear, causing you to gasp softly from the change of position. "Now...The lesson is taking me, and controlling yourself...~"
As he initially listed the tasks you had done, your face grew redder with every one, embarrased by the words alone, but you didn't dare speak against him, unsure of when the game has started. Between sessions, he had teased before how he wouldn't tell you when he'd start, but you would know, so he insisted you keep on your best behavior. He also reminded you that the safeword would always apply, no matter whether or not he was in his role or not.
As you were in your thoughts, something cold pressed against your awaiting hole. One of Satoru's fingers, coated with lube, was prodding at the tight rings, as if urging you to open.
"Now just relax, alright? Otherwise the rest of this will hurt."
Putting all trust into him, you did as he suggested, your body relaxing against the soft pillows below you. Thanks to that, paired with the lube, Satoru was able to slip the one finger inside, causing you to tense once again before returning to your relaxed position.
"Good boy~ I promise this will make everything feel much better..."
His movements were slow and careful, easing himself in and out of you. The sensation was strange but not unwelcome. On occasion, you let out an audible breath, especially as Satoru hit a deep spot inside, and with every little sound you made, he would praise you.
As he felt it was easy to move a single finger, he soon paired it with another, your hips suddenly grinding against the support pillow in tandem with his motions. Your moans were a bit louder than earlier, a smirk growing on Satoru's lips.
"Oh, look at you. So desperate, huh?"
His tone of voice told you he had long slipped into his role, setting your body aflame. He watched as your hips continued to gyrate, your cock pressing against the edge of the pillow for him to view. Your hands clenched into fists, nails digging into your skin from merely two fingers. Your actions would soon come to a stop as Satoru's also halted.
"Did I say you could move?"
His voice wasn't dark, but it was definitely a warning. Panting lightly, you shook your head, swallowing down pooling saliva from the side of your mouth.
"N-No, sir."
"Good. Stay still."
With that said, he resumed his actions, curling his fingers around, spreading them, thrusting them. You were lost in this light bliss for what felt like awhile, the two fingers having stretched you enough for them to have plenty of room. Within time, he stopped once more, but with less time in between than last. A third finger joined, and the stretch burned lightly, though it was quickly shrouded with pleasure as he moved once more.
"Fuck...~ Look at you. Three fingers? How much of a slut are you~?" The word sent a jolt to your cock, precum having already began leaking from the tip. You weren't expecting it, but you weren't complaining; it felt thrilling.
As you were reeling from the new sensation, Satoru spoke once more.
"What, can't talk anymore? Is this all it takes to ruin you~?"
You were brought back to reality, lightly shaking your head once more. "N-No, I'm sorry." A sudden thrust of his fingers caused you to cry out, your hips subconsciously grinding against the pillow once more. You were quick to realize your mistake. "N-No sir!"
"Hah...~ Good boy. You learn quick~"
His fingers then left you, leaving you empty with a soft whine. Satoru didn't keep you waiting, and you felt hands spread your cheeks, a larger object prodding your stretched and aching hole. He asked if you were ready, and with your consenting nod, Satoru filled you, your ass taking him down to the hilt thanks to the stretching. As he let out a groan, you had let out a blissful cry, fighting the urge to grind your hips once more.
"F-Fuck~ God you feel amazing. I knew you could take my cock like this." Your body shook with anticipation, patiently waiting for Satoru to move. Noting this, he pressed his chest to your back, his warm skin coming into contact with your blazing body. "Are you ready, love?"
One extra reassurance, but honestly, despite how respectful it was, it was unneeded. You nodded nearly the moment he stopped speaking. You had been ready the moment he entered you. Sitting up, Satoru placed a firm but gentle hand on the back of your neck as he began to cycle his hips into you, the movements almost precise. His hand placement, his movements, all of it nearly made you lose it, your cock throbbing painfully against the pillow. You needed a touch, friction, anything. You were desperate to the point you started to grind your hips again.
The action didn't go unnoticed, Satoru slightly increasing his speed as he watched.
"Nngh...~ Yeah you're desperate...~ Can't...last a moment of fun without w-wanting your cock touched, huh?"
Your eyes were rolling under the blindfold, nails digging into your palms. His hand placement only grew in firmness, not by a lot, but it felt like it was the only thing keeping you mentally in place, like a leash keeping you connected.
Without an answer, Satoru simply continued his thrusts, degranding phrases of how dirty you were slipping out only to be replaced with praises of your work, of taking it as well as you were.
All of it was enough to tighten the coil in your stomach, your moans pitching in sound. It was a familiar feeling, one you were able to proclaim.
"G-Gonna...cum~! S-Satoru--S-Sir I--"
"No."
The denial brought you back down, your body shaking with the urge to already let loose. "P-Please!"
It didn't help that Satoru's movements hadn't stopped. You were about to burst, yet he insisted on continuing.
"Y-You cum when I say. That's part of the lesson~" His voice was breathy. "Don't move o-on your own...a-and don't cum. You can do that, right~?"
"S-Satoru, please!"
At your plea, the movements stopped, and your approaching orgasm would gradually leave.
"Alright, then I'll stop...~" Satoru's voice wasn't upset, but teasing. If you couldn't handle it, he'd stop, leaving you there to lose your orgasm. His hands now resting on your bound hands, not to untie them, but to simply rest there.
"N-No, Sato--S-Sir I...I-I can handle it, please!"
You really were desperate to have him move inside, but he would ignore your pleas until he figured enough time had gone by.
"Still feel like you have to cum?"
Realizing it wasn't there, you groaned softly, shaking your head.
Gently gripping the binds, he used your arms as a leverage, using it to pull you closer to him to bury deeper into you. Just as you were before he stopped moving, you were quick to fall back into the mess you were, your ass clenching around his cock, as if begging him not to stop again. It didn't take long for your orgasm to return, in which you'd announce it once more.
"J-Just hold off a bit longer," Satoru breathed, repositioning himself to once again press his body into you. His hands rested on your shoulders, not in a way to press you down, but another leverage spot for him. This way, he could focus on his hips, losing himself inside of you in a sticky mess. You tried your best to hold off, but it only inched closer.
"S-Sir, I-I can't! I-I need to cum--!"
As if answering your prayers, Satoru replied, "C-Cum with me~!"
Another moment more and you would have came without his permission. Before your mind went white, you thanked the gods for the reprieve, cum roping out from your cock onto the pillow as your body shook with bliss. You let out heavy, moan-filled panting as your felt your ass fill with Satoru's cum, feeling Satoru himself pant heavily against you with soft groans of each release.
You had to admit, Satoru was an excellent teacher. You'd be sure to tell him that whenever you'd awaken from this experience.
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defectivehero · 3 days
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Hello! If ur requests are open, I'd love to see a villain or hero trying to break down the walls of their enemy, who's whole purpose is to be a tool. Denied everything for the sake of a single goal, a mere sacrifice, destined to die :)
this ask is so peko pekoyama & izuru kamakura coded. and i love it so much. warnings: manipulation, child abuse, graphic depictions of injury/violence/blood, dehumanization
"Ah, you're awake," the villain realizes aloud, looking at the hero. "I was hoping to get some answers from you."
The hero is silent. They look surprisingly calm, despite the situation they find themself in: bound to a chair, a blindfold secured around their eyes. They don't look unnerved, startled; there's no emotion in their expression—no modicum of energy or presence to denote them as even remotely human.
Admittedly, this hero has intrigued the villain, ever since the moment they met. The hero had moved with a mechanical precision, and the villain was surprised to find that their precision extended to every other facet of their life. There is no boundary between work and personal life for the hero—because they simply don't have a personal life. At least, that's what the villain has found. They'd love to be proven wrong at this point—would love to be proven wrong about their lingering suspicions regarding the cruelty of the local hero agency.
"What did you want to ask about?" The hero asks, as if they are the one controlling the conversation. And maybe they are. The villain blinks, thrown back into reality.
"Why are you...?" The villain tries to say. They're not quite sure how to proceed. They take a slow breath and start pacing around the hero, hoping to quell their restless energy. They are the one in control. "No. What did the agency do to you?"
"Why do you care?" The hero hums. There isn't a denial of any kind—"They didn't do anything to me" wasn't a response. The villain's stomach stews in unease.
"Answer the question," the villain demands.
"Very well," the hero answers carefully.
In hindsight, the villain should've braced themself for the answer. They were so focused on the question that they neglected to prepare themself for the nearly infinite amount of possibilities—unspeakably cruel possibilities. They're suddenly grateful that they blindfolded the hero—grateful that the hero won't be able to see their expression. Because what they say next breaks the villain’s composure.
"I was seven when it happened… My powers manifested. I didn't know how to use them. It was bound to happen."
"...What was bound to happen?" The villain hears themself say. Their voice sounds like a stranger’s.
"I was kidnapped walking home from school. One moment, there was a sharp pain on the back of my head; the next, I woke up to a glass cage and a manacle secured around my ankle."
The villain is biting the inside of their cheek so hard they can taste blood. They shouldn't be surprised, but they are.
"I didn't know where I was or what was happening. I was just a child." The hero continues. The villain wants to think that there's a trace of emotion in the hero's voice after the latter statement, but they get the feeling it's just their imagination.
"For a while, I was alone. I don't know how long. I tried to summon my powers, but they still weren't under control. I nearly killed myself in my attempt to escape.
"Then, someone visited. It was a man in a dark suit. He unlocked the cage, or manipulated it, I can't remember—and walked up to me. There was a glass of water in his hand. I was so thirsty.
"I was too young to know any different, too young to question what was clearly a kind gesture. I took a sip... My vision spiraled and I fell to the ground.
"I woke up on an operating table, with people staring down at me through advanced medical equipment. Tears were slipping down my cheeks, from the brightness of the lights above. Someone secured a mask on my face. I tried to stay awake, but I couldn't move.
"I woke up on the floor of my cage, in a pool of my own blood. There was a giant wound on my forearm, leaking pus. I dry-heaved over and over again. Nothing came up.
"I got a lot of visitors after that. It was clear that they did something to me. Suddenly, I was getting meals three times a day, books and video games to keep me busy... I must've been eight or nine years old at that point—old enough to understand that I was nothing more than a lab rat."
It takes them several moments for the villain to find their voice. "...And then?" They manage to ask. They stopped pacing minutes ago—now they're standing across from the bound hero.
"Then I was trained," the hero says. "Brought to the brink of my exhaustion over and over again, day after day. Months passed, then years... like granules of sand slipping through my fingers."
"I was soon trusted to participate in missions. I didn't know what was happening, why I was fighting who I was fighting. All I knew... was the hollowness in my chest and the commands inscribed on my mind itself."
The villain is silent. They don't trust themself to speak—they know their voice would break, betraying their thoughts.
At some point, the hero is the one to break the silence. They tilt their head to the side slightly, leveling the villain with what they can assume to be a curious gaze under the blindfold. "Why have you captured me? Do you hope to rehabilitate me?"
"It won't work," the hero says before the villain can answer. Somehow, they've ascertained that their capture was motivated by that exact desire: the wish for rehabilitation, the visceral need to do something good for someone other than themself. "They have broken me beyond repair." The hero's voice is hollow.
"Everyone can be fixed," the villain responds.
"But I am not a person. I am just a shell, an empty husk. An amalgamation of observations on human behavior, with no memories, no passions, no opinions. I don't even have a name."
Somehow, this is what breaks them. Somehow, the villain survived the onslaught of horrible information, suffered through the retelling of dehumanizing events and cruelty beyond measure. Yet this is what breaks them: the hero does not have a name. A name: a concept so simple. Even animals have names—they are ascribed names by humans. What does it say that this person has no name? They have been deemed lower than humans, lower than animals. They are merely a tool. A weapon.
The villain's thoughts are spiraling. They feel themself moving before they can stop. They robotically break the distance between the two of them, until they're standing over the hero. The hero must sense their proximity, but they do not respond—do not even flinch or move. The villain bites the inside of their cheek hard and begins untying the ropes around the hero's limbs.
"What are you doing?" The hero asks. They sound vaguely surprised. But the villain is nearly certain it’s just an act.
"Leave," the villain demands, their hands shaking ever so slightly as they finish freeing the hero. "Go."
There's a brief flicker of emotion on the hero's face—a quick flash of complete, utter confusion. It happens so fast that the villain can just barely comprehend it, can just barely grasp that the hero may, deep down, have the freedom to express genuine emotion. But as quick as it appears, the confusion is gone: smoothed over by an infuriatingly blank slate.
The villain watches the hero leave. The moment the door clicks shut, the bile on their tongue rises and they dry-heave. They cough and take deep breaths, feeling their throat burn with more than just acid. Unshed tears linger in their eyes, in the back of their throat.
Is the hero past saving? More importantly, do they even want to be saved?
The villain rubs a hand over their face and walks back to the wooden chair where the hero sat moments ago, kicking it over in a rush of pure frustration. It slides across the floor with a horrible screeching noise.
The villain is overcome with an intense desire to do something rather uncharacteristic: they want to free the hero from the agency's chains. And, hell, it's not out of a foolish desire to do something good. Not anymore. Somewhere, deep down, the villain wants the person they just spoke to—who has only known cruelty—to be given a chance to truly live.
It's ironic. The villain has been fighting heroes for years, unaware that the real evil has been under their nose this entire time. Because, while the heroes may be purveyors of justice, the nature of that "justice" is determined by the agency. It's the agency that contributes to the systemic oppression running rampant in their city, it's the agency that manufactures people and turns them into weapons.
The villain clenches their restless hands at their sides. It seems they have to make a slight change to their plans.
©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. reblogs are greatly appreciated—just please don't steal my writing or share outside of Tumblr.
i can't tell if i'm happy with how this turned out or not. i feel like the ending kind of sucks, but whatever. it is what it is.
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lenaboskow · 3 days
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you know what i want? i want them to pretend to kill eddie off. like full on, we have a funeral for him and everything (empty casket, maybe he got trapped in a cave or something and it crumbled, so there's no way to retrieve the body and there's no way he survived after several weeks).
we get to see the whole crew, buck and chris especially, go through the stages of grief, though i whole heartedly believe that chris would be the one to say "he's not dead, we don't have a body" and be stuck in the denial stage.
if buck and tommy were still together, i think it would prompt a breakup (tommy doesn't strike me as someone who wants kids, and i think the whole will situation would make him realize it was never going to work, if he hasn't already) and we would get to see buck regret not figuring his shit out sooner because maybe they could've done something different
if eddie and marisol were still together, we could see marisol try to fight for chris, and then realize that she was never going to take buck's place in their life. so she leaves.
we get to see season eight promo of the actors talking about how each of their characters will deal with the grief in their own way. we get to see them talk about how the dynamics shift, about how they all learn to adapt to life without eddie diaz.
ryan would do a side project, spend all his time promoting it. we wouldn't see him step foot near the set.
as it draws closer to the premier of 8x01, we get vague stills. buck crying, a conversation between hen and chim, maybe a still of chris, and bobby and athena. the synopsis is vague, too. or maybe we don't even get one. all the trailers seem like they've been cut weird (see bobby telling eddie "i can't tell you how you feel about this job" as the perfect example)
abc does a good job of making us think he's dead. all the promos, all the interviews, have made it clear eddie is gone, and the 118 is moving on as best they can.
so, people tune in for 8x01 at 8pm est on a random thursday. the first scene?
eddie diaz waking up in the middle of nowhere.
tumblr immediately crashes.
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vole-mon-amour · 16 days
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I am once again asking Yana Toboso to show us one of her drawings where Ciel and Sebastian kiss on the lips so it's undeniable.
like, miss Yana, our queen, please. ppl pretend like it's a father & son relationship, which to me kind of looks like they are desperate for this:
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surely this would be much better than the devil making a deal with a raped kid so the kid can take revenge against his rapists and people that murdered his family, and all of that for the exchange of the kid's soul. surely actual parent/kid incest would've been better and less problematic, right? right? or is the shota part the only thing that bothers antis?
how can someone ignore the creator's intentions or even cut out Sebastian and him holding Ciel's hand in the recent work as if it's only Ciel there is beyond me. like, we've seen them almost kissing through the anime and even Yana's most recent artworks scream shota, but no, it's purely platonic.
guys. be real now. why are you still in denial, yet participating in this? it's the same nonsense recycled ever since the manga was created. I've been there since maybe 2007-2008? if anything, people started screaming/policing louder. back in my day people shipped, and shipped, and shipped.
now they act like they're all grown up and know better. apparently, better than the creator herself (that I'm sure is also twice their age). 🙄
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msnihilist · 1 month
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I just think that Timmy and Mr Crocker have one of the funniest protagonist/antagonist relationships ever. Mr Crocker knows that Timmy has fairies — it's not guess-work, he's literally seen them.
Which ordinarily would be a violation of the rules, but the dude is so fucking batshit that no one would ever believe him, resulting in this open-secret dynamic where Mr Crocker is obsessed with getting irrefutable evidence of this fact, but he literally never succeeds because even though he's going up against a ten-year-old, Timmy is a ten-year-old with magic, and Mr Crocker is about as subtle as an avalanche.
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boyczar · 3 months
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rainy day schedule
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perenlop · 3 months
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dweebs
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apotelesmaa · 1 year
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Objectively yes five pebbles deserves most of the blame for every problem in rain world but I think seven red suns does not get near enough flack for knowing five pebbles wanted nothing more than to end it all, knowing he shared resources with moon, knowing 5P trusted and looked up to him and STILL choosing to send him the information on the very risky plan to die that requires constantly utilizing every drop of water at your disposal and requires complete perfection in execution to avoid giving yourself super turbo mega cancer. & then going Omg I can’t believe five pebbles has done this :( why is he so mad at me now :( my iterator in Christ you literally gave him step by step instructions on how to ruin his life and accidentally kill his sister what did you think was going to happen.
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daydreamerdrew · 1 year
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The Incredible Hulk (1968) #253
#ugh ok this is falling kind of flat for me because characters are saying things that are simply not true#in a way I don’t think is justified by their limited perspective as characters#like ‘left alone he’s harmed no one’ is literally not true#I love the Hulk but he’s definitely really hurt people who weren’t deserving of it#it’s just more complicated than this simplistic perspective#which isn’t so interesting when all of the characters are inexplicably agreeing on it#like one character being at this level of denial I could take but come on#the Hulk’s issues are caused by so many things#and he hasn’t completely unearned his bad reputation#he lashes out physically when he’s overwhelmed by sensory issues#nobody needs to hurt the Hulk for him to get upset by the sounds and smells and sights of a city and smash it#and sometimes he hurts people who had no intention of fighting him because he assumed they were going to because of his trauma#or because he had simply misunderstood them because he’s not very bright#and the Hulk’s own issues exacerbate whatever problems are caused by other people#like the Hulk is never going to just be magically not-disabled and so able to handle these situations in a way that works out better for hi#and the correct response in a moral sense is not to take that and try to ‘cure’ Bruce of the Hulk i.e. killing the Hulk#the Hulk doesn’t deserve to die because he’s inconvenient#it’s to try to create a safe space for him where he can then actually grow and not just experience trauma all the time#and so learn to handle things in a way that aren’t so destructive to other people and himself#which is what Samson tried to do#and that failed because of that Moonstone villain#but also because of the Hulk’s character concept and publishing format meaning that that he can never have his problems actually fixed#cause they need to keep publishing stories about his troubles#marvel#bruce banner#betty ross#thunderbolt ross#leonard samson#my posts#comic panels
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nexus-nebulae · 10 months
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i really really wanna write a story at some point that starts out as one of those cliche YA novels where a normal human character finds out about an entire magic world they didn't know about- except the character is some form of mentally ill with paranoia and delusions, so the story revolves around how much more difficult it becomes for this person to percieve the world while also dealing with whatever Magic Bullshit is being thrown at them
#cw unreality#tw unreality#<- just for the description of some of the delusions#i don't want to trigger someone else to have a bad delusion/paranoia because of my own paranoias + creative writing ideas#but like the story is told by this unreliable narrator#who is unreliable due to the fact that they can't even rely on their own brain#and the struggle is figuring out what's real and what's reliable#but because of the character's history with their mental illness they can't do it on their own#but suddenly don't know if they can trust literally anyone else around them because- what if it's all just lies#but then also are stuck in a place of semi-denial where they desperately want to believe this isn't real and is just another delusion#so the story focuses on them learning to manage their symptoms enough to get a hold on what's happening#while both you and the main character struggle to figure out what's actually happening in the story#a semi-mystery type thing#idk just. as a person with delusions and paranoia#if something like that happened to me i would *freak the fuck out*#like on one hand i've been begging to get isekai'd into a fantasy world my whole life#on the other hand i would have absolutely no way to tell whether or not it was just a bad mental break#because the worse your symptoms get the harder perception becomes#to where i don't know if i'd be able to trust literally any of my senses because well. i get pretty vivid tactile hallucinations#i wouldn't be able to reach out and touch the magic creature in front of me and immediately know it was real#it could just be my brain supplying the sensation because i expected it and my own brain is crafting a false world around me#and as a writer just. thinking about that kind of fucked up situation makes me a little rabid#i like to fuck up my characters. lots#and fucked up situations based on my own delusions/paranoias? fun content fun content
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feral4daryl · 5 months
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need a part 2 of sweet scent with pervy daryl trying to explain it to you but you couldn't get it cuz you'd never done anything like it so he says he's gonna show you how good it feels and has to muffle your screams so no one in the house hears you as his cock practically splits your tiny cunt in half and he uses his thumb to rub ur clit to try and make u relax.........
I'm crazy but I'm free
masterlist and other infos || MDNI
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sweet scent pt2.
perv!daryl x innocent!fem!reader
summary: after getting caught sniffing your panties by you, daryl persuades you into giving your precious virginity away to him while your dad's just in the next room.
warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl's is in late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18 [or older, it's up to you]), 18+ smut, praising, dubcon? (reader lacks enthusiastic consent at first and daryl has to do some convincing), panty gagging, p-in-v, blowjobs, cunnilingus, masturbation, manipulation, petnames, daddy kink, orgasm denial, mentions of dumbification, mentions of degradation.
word count: 6.2k
a/n: the following content contains some extreme fetishes and kinks that some readers might find disturbing, so if you're not comfortable with any of those, please do not proceed. click here to read part 1.
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<previous chapter>
[...] His movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. He sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. He opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.
Then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...
You. Standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.
"U-uncle Daryl?"
---
Shit.
You definitely weren't what Daryl expected to see when he opened his eyes, the remains of his freshly busted nut all over his hand and his cock out, fully on display. For a good 5 seconds, he just freezed, completely unsure of what to do. But then, it hit him. He freaked out.
His eyes got as big as they possibly could and he immediately pulled his cock in his pants back again, clumsily trying to regain his composure, taking a little longer than usual due to his nervousness. Meanwhile, you just stood there with an unreadable expression. You didn't look exactly shocked, or angry, or anything like it. You looked strangely curious, with your head slightly tilted to the side.
Daryl shook his hand to get rid of some of his essence that was still sticking to it and then rubbed it on the side of his pants, on the hip area. Still not capable of looking you in the eyes, he quickly glanced at your frame and finally broke the awkward silence.
“Y/N? W-What'r'ya doin' here?” Stuttering was very unusual for Daryl, considering that although he was a man of very few words, he was always very direct and precise with them. Maybe playing it cool as if you hadn't just caught him in the act was the way out of that unpleasant situation.
“Well...” You let out a small chuckle and took a step closer to him. “This is my room.” His awkward smile immediately faded away.
“Oh, uh... I was jus’...” He looked around the room, searching for anything to use as an excuse for being there. But before he could start, you interrupted him.
“I didn't leave with the others, daddy told me to stay here to take care of you. He's in his room.” Your sweet girly voice had a way of calming Daryl, making him a bit more relaxed despite the current scenario and the shame he was feeling. But at the same time, just hearing you enunciate that one little word 'daddy' had him taking a deep breath to control his urges and not have another erection right there and then. You said that so innocently, because, well, it was in fact innocent since you referred to your actual father Hershel, but still, Daryl's twisted mind made it sound suggestive in his head.
“Take care'a me?” He pondered. Daryl wondered why your reaction was so calm considering what you had just witnessed. Maybe you didn't see much.
“You know, somebody's gotta change your bandage.” You smiled and pointed to his head that still had the bandage around it. “Actually, can you step to the side a bit? So I can...” You gestured to the dressing table behind him. He didn't say anything and just did as you said, moving to the side a little so you could approach the piece of furniture. In that moment, Daryl was the definition of what they call a standoffish.
“I was expecting to find you in your bed, resting. As you should, uncle Daryl.” Your voice carried a hint of playfulness along with a sincere worry. But the way you called him uncle for the second time that day gave him mixed sensations. He wasn't sure if he was aroused or weirded out by it. Or both.
You extended your hand, meaning to pull the drawer open to collect the items needed to change his bandage, which included the gauze, antiseptic wipes, medical tapes, sterile dressing and other kinds of medical stuff your dad had taught you how to handle, but you had to stop your hand midway when you noticed a white slimy thing dripping down the furnishing.
He followed your eyes, noticing how stared at the liquid. The farmer's sweet young daughter had just noticed the results of Daryl's arousal while it coated the dressing table. His mind started rushing with apprehension, you could tell your dad and everyone else how much of a perverted old man Daryl actually was, and he could be kicked out of the group, being left alone in the woods to fend for himself. It's not that he wasn't capable to make it on his own, but his family was important to him, he didn't wanna lose them over that type of thing that could change the way they looked at him forever.
“What's this?” You bended your knees a little, leaning forward and squinting your eyes to take a better look at the unknown substance. Now, you had completely forgotten the reason why you came into that room that was changing his bandage. Daryl lifted one of his eyebrows out of confusion. Did you really not know what that was? If that was the case, it kind of made sense.
Of course. Living on a farm far from the city, you had a close-knit relationship with your family in a way that they were pretty much all the people you would interact with. You had never had boyfriends, or kissed, or anything remotely romantic like that due to your dad's overprotectiveness, after all, you were his youngest daughter. All you knew about the existence of sexual stuff had been taught by him, when he mainly warned you about the terrible consequences of that type of action and that you had to stay innocent.
You didn't really know what he meant by all that, since he was very vague in his descriptions about sex. Hershel just used to say that there were certain areas on your body that you should never let a boy get near and you knew better than to disobey your father's orders, being aware that he always knew what was best for you. Not even your own hands had ever darted down your body to meet those spots more than once or twice before quickly pulling away. You wanted to remain innocent, whatever that meant.
But Daryl was the observant type, and he quickly caught up that you knew nothing about that type of thing. He knew you had always lived in that farm, away from the perverted hands of boys your age (or older like him) so connecting the dots wasn't tricky at all.
Oh, the things he could show you. That thought alone brought a somewhat creepy smirk to Daryl's face as he stared into the wall, contemplating the opportunity he had in hands to finally have his way with you. He knew he still had to be careful though.
“Daryl?” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. You turned your head to look at him before turning your entire body to face him. Your gaze was curious.
“This?” He motioned with his chin towards the dripping substance on the piece of furniture, looking out of place. “Ya don'... know wha' it is?” He double checked, wanting to make sure you were actually unfamiliar erotic nature of what you saw him doing.
“Well, I saw where it came from.” You revealed, not sounding accusing at all, just simply stating a fact.
“...How long 've ya been watchin' me?” He asked with an almost audible gulp. Though he was considerably excited about teaching you all that new stuff, he was still unsure if he should or not. It'd been so long since his last sexual interaction with someone else that he could barely remember it. And doing it with the daughter of the man that gave him a roof to put over his head in times like these? That was risky.
“A while.” You stated. Now, Daryl could notice how you started staring at his crotch area with a renewed sense of interest. That meant you had definitely seen his dick despite his efforts to hide it when he first got caught just moments ago. He wondered if you knew what it was or its purpose.
You stepped even closer to him and he couldn't help but step back slightly. “I've never seen somebody pee like that. Are you... Sick?” You raise an eyebrow. “The bathroom's just in the next room, you know...” Your worried tone was awfully adorable to Daryl. And well, he was indeed sick, but not in the way you meant it. Nonetheless, the amusing way you mistook his semen for urine made him share a light chuckle.
“Nah, tha's... Tha's not piss.” He bluntly let out. You walked across your room and over to your bed, sitting on its edge. Daryl followed you until he was standing in front of you. He crossed his arms.
“How so?” You tilted your head to the side with a sincere curiosity displayed on your face. You had seen the way he rubbed that one thing of his that you weren't sure how it worked until that slimy liquid started oozing out of it, deeply stimulating your curiosity.
“Ya sure ya wanna know?” His tone sounded more dark and his voice turned hoarser, however, that didn't seem to faze you. You nodded frantically. “Aigh', i'll show ya.” Once again, a smirk creeped onto his face. Your eyes were all sparkly as you attentively listened to him. “Sometimes people touch themselves ta feel good, ya know?” You shrugged, not really sure of what he was talking about.
As he spoke, he took light and slow steps towards you, like a predator preparing to hunt its prey, until his knees was almost touching yours. “Ya ever touched yerself, darlin'?” Despite the raspiness in his voice, it was now rather calm, with a surge of some sweetness to it.
“Like how?” You asked.
“Like here...” He extended his hand with a gentle movement, his finger tracing a path from the valley between your breasts down to your bellybutton. The slightly ticklish sensation made you flinch a little. Then, his finger continued making its way down to your lower belly, stopping inches above your clothed pussy. “'N here...”
Your breath hissed, and you started remembering how your dad told you those parts were sacred and shouldn't be touched by anyone, no matter who. The uncertainty was obvious in your face as you discreetly pushed his hand away. “Uncle Daryl...”
“Ya can call me jus' Daryl, sweetheart. 'M yer friend, remember?” He tried his best to sound convincing.
“Yes, Daryl...” You corrected yourself with an awkward chuckle. “I... I think I shouldn't.” You avert your gaze from his.
“Why not? Dontcha wanna know wha' it's like?” He leaned in a little closer, resting his hands on your thighs. You made a motion to try to push him away again, but he insisted on his touch. “Don' be scared, doll. 'M not gunna hurt ya. Quite the opposite.” He smirked while practically whispering the last part, making sure to sound extra coaxing.
You weren't really sure what you were afraid of, exactly. You just knew that you wanted to make your father happy and proud of you, since he'd always been so caring towards you and your family. In the end, you just wanted daddy's approval.
“I'm... I'm not sure. I don't know, it doesn't feel right.” You confessed, your voice filled with worry. Daryl knew how to be intimidating when he wanted to.
“'S okay, doll.” He spoke the way one would speak to a puppy. And giving you no time to protest, he used one of his hands to tug at the hem of your white tank top and pulled it up in one go, revealing your bare tits to him. He bit his lips, noticing you weren't wearing a bra. As quick as he did so, you felt so ashamed of your sudden nudity that you lifted your arms up to try to cover yourself up from his hungry eyes. “D-Daryl...”
“Shhhh...” He shushed you against your ear, making shivers run down your spine. Although you were uncertain, the way he spoke to you made certain parts of your body warm up, an unusual sensation for you. “Ya got such pretty tits... Ya shouldn't hide 'em away from me.” As he said that, he gently grabbed one of your breasts, giving it the slightest squeeze not to startle you. You couldn't help but let out a small squeak at the unfamiliar sensation. Weirdly enough, it felt good in a way you had never felt before.
“Ya like tha'?” He whispered. “It's nice, but... Daddy wouldn't like that. I just wanna make daddy happy.” You just wanted to be a good girl. Perhaps, you could find a different way of doing that.
“Yeah?” He muttered practically to himself as he got an idea. “Well, I can be yer daddy for today. Like tha', ya could make yer daddy happy in a way. Yer jus' gotta lemme lead ya, aigh'?” He didn't feel guilty in the slightest for making you engage in one of his twisted fetishes while you were barely aware of it.
“H-huh?" You were uncertain about the reason behind his suggestion.
“Ya can pretend 'm yer daddy.” He continued playing her mind. You weren't really sure if you liked the idea to depict him as your old man, but you tried to convince yourself to play along.
“But... What will he think of me when he finds out?” You fidgeted with your fingers. Meanwhile his grip on your breast continued to intimidate you.
“He don' have ta know. C'mon, dontcha wanna make daddy happy?” He conveyed in a hush against your ear, his thumb now grazing your sensitive nipple, making you feel that one funny sensation again. You couldn't help but lean into his touch.
You closed your eyes, darting your tongue out to lick your lips. The nervousness in you due to the newness of it all made your lips dry. The way Daryl was making you feel was curious, and you just wanted more of it. He took your silence as a confirmation.
“Good girl.” He cooed before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, very gently sucking on it. The feeling made you arch your back instantly.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
You just wanted to be a good girl. And if following Daryl's lead was a way to do it, you were all in for it. Your senses awakened as a cascade of unfamiliar yet electrifying sensations coursed through you, a dance of pleasure that tingled on your skin. In that moment, a subtle warmth enveloped you, as if you had discovered a secret realm of bliss previously unknown.
You reached for his head, the feeling of your delicate fingernails scratching against his scalp and pulling him closer sent tingling sensations all over his body. Instinctively, you slightly opened your legs at the pleasure and that drew a smirk onto Daryl's face.
“Eager fer daddy, huh?” The way he referred to himself like that made a faint blush spread across your cheeks, although you couldn't wrap your head around the reason why. It felt so wrong but so right at the same time.
“I need ya to trust me, 'kay?” He said as he pulled your shorts down and then tossed them aside, revealing your white cotton panties. Once again, you felt to urge to hide, not knowing how to deal with someone else seeing you naked for the first time. But before your legs could involuntarily close, his big hands groped your thighs, keeping them spread apart. “'S okay, sunshine.” He practically manhandled you, gently but firmly pushing your body downward so you rested you back on the mattress.
The new position made you feel strangely vulnerable, but it wasn't exactly a bad feeling. Your doe eyes had a mix of unsureness and curiosity as they meet his. Sensing the mixed sensations within you, Daryl leaned in to place a small peck on your plush lips, aiming to make you more comfortable. The feeling of his rough lips against your soft ones so suddenly almost made you flinch, but they felt rather inviting. As he pulled back, a confident smirk could be seen displayed on his face.
The archer's rugged fingers traveled their way down your body once again until they found the soft fabric of your panties, making your breath hiss. He brushed his index and middle fingers against your clothed pussy lips. Just with that, the dampness was so obvious that a small wet spot could be seen on the cotton fabric right where your slit would be. He dragged his fingers across it until they reached your clit.
“This lil spot righ' here...” He kept his hand there. “...is magical." For now, he just added a small pressure, testing the waters and watching close to your reaction, but that was enough to draw a whimper from you, the unknown sensation making you grasp his forearm. It indeed felt magical. You bit your lips and though you couldn't see it, Daryl shared a satisfied smile at the way he was able to get you all hot and bothered with just a simple touch.
Your legs squirmed a bit and he took that as a good sign, so he continued. Now, he started slowly rubbing your clit in circular motions over the fabric of your panties. Your back arched again, and you accidentally let out a dangerously loud moan.
“Nuh-uh.” He brought his other index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet. “Ya gotta be quiet, ya hear me?” His tone was mostly reprimanding, which strangely excited you. You nodded, enjoying the authority he guided you with through those new sensations. You had touched yourself there before, but never like that. The sensation always felt somewhat wrong, but with Daryl, it was totally different.
You were still kind of upset at yourself for disobeying your dad, but the way Daryl worked his fingers so skillfully had you seeing stars. You never thought you'd be handing out your innocence for some old redneck you met just a while ago, but there you were, completely given to him.
In the beginning, Daryl used to always kind of avoid you, despite your attempts of trying to get to know at least a little bit about the mysterious archer. He knew that deep down, those desires towards you were always there, since the very first time he saw you. At first, he tried to brush them off, but now, all he wanted was to be the one to feel your tight virgin cunt for the first time.
In a swift motion, his big hands tugged at the hem of your underwear. “Up.” He ordered, gesturing for you to lift your hips so he could pull them down. You didn't argue at all and promptly did as he said, reveling in the control he had over you. It was like he dominated your weak mind. “Good girl.” He cooed once again. Oh, if only he knew what that did to your little inexperienced pussy.
After tossing the piece of fabric aside, he reached for you knees, gently spreading them apart. The sight of your glistening bare cunt had his mind rushing through all the things he could do to it. He wondered if he would be able to hold himself back and be gentle or if he would end up losing control. After all, he hadn't done anything like that in such a long time that his whole body was aching for it. He stared at it in an almost scary way, you'd never seen his eyes so hungry.
If his cock hadn't awaken until that moment, now it was hard as a fucking rock. He had to really fight the urges to pull it out his pants and dick you down right there and then, but he knew he had to take it easy on you at least for now and get you nice and ready for him, even though you were already visibly dripping wet.
“Is this all fer me?” His tone was almost mocking. You weren't sure what he meant by that, not fully understanding the concept of natural lubrication, but you just nodded with your eyes closed. Something about being in that position felt so right, so freeing that it had you wondering why you never did that before, and why you were so afraid of trying it in the first place.
Daryl's hands sensually traced their way down your body, exploring your every contour until they reached the back of your thighs, pushing them back until your wet cunt was all over his face. He tried his best to control himself, but his own arousal was practically taking over his mind, so he buried his face on it like a starving man. As soon as his wet tongue made contact with your sensitive little clit and he lapped at your abundant juices, you immediately gasped, gaining a look of disapproval from Daryl.
“I warned ya.” That was all he mumbled before taking your panties he had just took off you and sticking them into your mouth almost aggressively. You could taste yourself on the white fabric, and although it felt strange, it turned you on even more. Now, your little sounds were muffled by the piece of clothing as he resumed eating you out, flicking his tongue on hour clit and burying it between your folds. You never thought a feeling like that could actually exist as you experienced that overwhelming rush of pleasure, a novel sensation coursing through you sending shivers down your spine as a delightful warmth enveloped your entire being. You tried your best to hold back your sounds since your dad was home and could hear you if you slipped, but Daryl's skilled tongue and lips made it an extremely difficult task, even with your panties stuck in your mouth.
He continued working your clit with his mouth, and maybe a little sooner than it should, a tingling sensation forming in your lower belly caught your attention. Daryl noticed the obvious shift in your demeanor and took the panties out of your mouth so you could speak. “D-daddy...” You experimented the honorific he had previously suggested. “I-I feel funny.” You whimpered, squirming a bit harder than before as it started feeling as if you were gonna burst at any moment. Daryl smirked against your skin and gave your pussy a last peck before pulling away, making you whine in disapproval. It had only been seconds but you immediately missed the sensation. You craved it.
“Not yet, sweetheart.” He said. Not yet what, you wondered. But you still wanted to be good for him, so you nodded as the good girl you were. You couldn't think of anything you wouldn't do for him in that moment, considering how desperate you were to feel that pleasure again.
Your curious eyes followed his hands as they reached to unbuckled his own belt, setting it aside. He undid his pants and pulled them down just enough to reveal his boxer briefs to you. There. There was the place where you saw that sticky white thing shooting out from. Now, the excitement in you was unbearable as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his movements closely. Your eyes visibly lighted up and that didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.
“Yer gunna love this, lil' girl.” He bit his lips. Something was very obviously bulging in his boxers, which you found odd since it didn't seem to look so obvious when it was in his pants even though now it looked so big. Either way, you were completely drawn to it. You glued your eyes to his crotch while he pulled his underwear down.
You had heard about it, but you had never actually seen one of those before. In the aftermath of the apocalypse, his pubic hair had grown wild and untamed, a reflection of the makeshift survival and the absence of the once routine grooming practices. Not that he used to care a lot about that kind of thing before the outbreak. In a way, you thought it looked charming, suiting his rugged looks and personality.
You could feel your mouth starting to water at the sight of his cock standing tall and proud in front of you. Since the archer had touched his mouth to your cunt, you wondered if you could do the same to him in that same area on his body. As if he could smell your thoughts, he brought a hand to your head, gently pulling you closer to his crotch while he held it by the base.
“Ya wanna have a taste?” He slyly suggested and chuckled at your frantic nodding. Leaning closer to it, you felt the musky and raw scent that emanated from it, which made you even more drawn to the possibilities that ran through your mind. But at the same time, you didn't know what to do or how to handle it.
Bringing his hand to his mouth, he collected some saliva from it and rubbed the wetness on the tip of his cock to lubricate it. “Gimme yer hand.” He reached out his hand, and instantly you complied, allowing him to direct it towards his cock. He enveloped your hand around it, keeping his atop yours, slowly starting to move it up and down. It felt warm and hard against your soft fingers, and the way he threw his head back and quietly groaned made your stomach churn with butterflies. “Fuck baby, tha' feels good.” He had to whisper due to the dangerous presence of your dad in the house threatening to put your little playtime to an end.
You smiled proudly at yourself. You liked the way he sounded and you wished to draw more of those grunts from his lips. And Daryl, being just as eager as you, removed your hand from his length, holding it by the base. His other hand found its way to the back of your head, his touch almost feeling impatient as he pulled you closer to his cock. “Open yer mouth.” He didn't have to tell you twice. Therefore, he guided his swollen tip to your awaiting tongue, smearing his salty pre-cum all over it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to hold back any compromising sounds.
Your lips instinctively closed around his tip, trying to mimic the way he sucked on your clit, aiming to make him feel as good as he previously did to you. The act not only gave him pleasure, but it also brought you a deep sense of satisfaction, making you hum against his sensitive skin. The vibrations from your vocal chords sent a chill through his body and he couldn't hold back this time, the warm sensation of your mouth being so tempting and promising that he pushed his hips forward a bit too much, causing it to hit the back of your throat and you to gag on it.
He immediately retracted his body, removing his cock from the velvety confines of your mouth. Your eyes got a little watery but you smiled either way. “Sorry, princess.” He said with a hint of awkwardness in his voice.
“It's fine, I liked it.” You confess, looking up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stood in front of you. Your innocent expression contrasting with the dirty nature of your encounter made him impossibly hornier, and he didn't feel like waiting any longer. “Fuck” He almost whined. Eagerness to feel you wrapping around him filled his body, so he grabbed you by the arms, not too rough so he wouldn't hurt you, and put on your feet against the pink wall of your room.
He brought a hand to your head, pressing it against the wall. You gasped a little at his roughness but soon you felt him brushing the tip of his cock on your slicky slit and clit. “'S gunna feel good, I promise.” He mumbled against your ear, making your body hair stand on end. The sensation had you biting your lips to try and not make any sounds, but your efforts were proven useless as you felt the pressure of his tip carefully going in your cunt, causing a burning sensation and you accidentally let out a loud cry.
Daryl's hand went immediately to your mouth, forcefully pressing his palm against your lips to muffle your sounds, your dad shouldn't hear Daryl using his sweet daughter in his own home after all. “Shhh, shhh.” He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head for a moment. You wrapped around him so tight even though he only had his tip in yet that he couldn't restrain himself from pushing his hips forward a little more, intensifying the burning sensation while he stretched your virgin cunt out.
“'S okay, ya can take it.” In that moment, you were confused at why he was making you feel so good just a moment ago, and now he's ripping your little pussy apart. But even though it hurt, it was somewhat pleasant to feel so full in such a new way, so you stuck your ass towards him, inviting him in. While still keeping his hand pressed on your mouth, he brought his other one to your hips, gripping them a little too tight.
Without warnings, he buried his entire length in you in one swift motion, filling you up to the brim and worsening the burning to a whole new level. The only thing that kept you from letting out a scream at the sudden invasion was his hand muffling your pathetic sounds and the fact that you'd be in deep trouble if your dad found out about that, but even so, Daryl couldn't help but quietly grunt at the intense sensation. He didn't know he missed fucking a warm cunt so badly until he was completely inhumed inside you. “Good girl. Yer being so good fer daddy.” He praised you. His words had an immediate effect on you, making your pussy even wetter, if that was even possible.
You didn't even care if it hurt or not anymore, so you just stood there, caught in the paradox of sensation — a mix of pain and pleasure etched across your face. The twinge felt like a sweet ache, and yet, an irresistible allure pulled her deeper into the experience, as if the discomfort held a hidden charm that she couldn't resist exploring.
Despite the pain, you found herself oddly drawn to the sensation, craving more as if the discomfort carried an inexplicable appeal that kept you coming back for another taste. So you slightly wiggled your ass against Daryl's body, moving his cock a little inside you. The feeling of being stretched out had you desperate for more.
Daryl's warm breath hit your ear as he let out a light-hearted laugh at your reaction, sending delicious goosebumps all over your body. His hips started going back and forth to meet yours in a sensual dance. He tried to be gentle at first, but your virgin cunt was just so wet and warm that he couldn't help it but succumb to his primal desires. “Jus' like tha', princess. Take this fat cock.” He whispered loud enough so only you could hear, making you weak in the knees.
His calloused hand let go of your hips to find your clit, starting to rub it with just the right pressure to make you squirm under his touch. The mixed sensations of intense pleasure and pain confusing your brain, making you melt like putty in his hands. Overwhelming waves of pleasure surged through you, leaving your head blissfully empty as if every thought had been swept away by the sheer intensity of the sensation, which was exactly what Daryl wanted, to turn you into a brainless little fucktoy for him.
If a few months ago somebody told you that you'd be letting some perverted older man take advantage of you in your own room, you would've laughed right in their face. Giving your innocence away to anybody used to feel like such a distant reality, and now there you were, pressed against the wall by Daryl's sweaty body while he mercilessly pounded your no longer virgin cunt, making you experience the most pleasurable pain you could ever feel.
As he continued bucking his hips like a desperate animal, you drooled against his hand, your brain now reduced to putty due to the overpowering sensation that dominated your every sense. “Nngh...” Your muffled moans stirred an even deeper desire within Daryl, turning him as primal as one could be. Your body language made it obvious that you were close to your orgasm, and this time, he didn't plan to deny you of it.
But you had never experienced something like that. You didn't know pleasure could get so extreme that could made you burst, so as the sensation built and grew stronger, it also made you unsure about where it was taking you, and you tried to fight the feeling. Daryl's skilled fingers working your clit only threw you even closer to the edge and you felt like your legs could fail at any moment.
Noticing the shift in your demeanor, he muttered against your ear. “Jus' let it go, baby. Trust me, don' hold it.” His tone was strangely sweet considering what you were both up to, but his encouraging words relaxed you a little, and as he intensified the rubbing on your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold it in not even if you wanted to, whatever it was.
Then, it hit you. An entirely unfamiliar and intense sensation washed over you, catching you off guard. It felt like uncharted emotional and physical territory, leaving you completely stunned, wide-eyed, and grappling with the unexpected intensity of the experience, something that almost made you mad at your dad from convincing you of staying away from it for so long.
Daryl had to intensify the pressure of his hand against your lips, but even so, he wasn't able to muffle your cries completely as your body convulsed and you were sure you lost consciousness for a few seconds. “Good girl, cum for me.” You didn't know what that word meant, but considering the situation, you understood that it probably had something to do with the new type of pleasure you just experienced.
As the orgasmic sensation slowly faded away, it was replaced with an even more overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. You squirmed even harder and you swore you could cry if he continued using your cunt like that, not giving you any breaks to catch your breath. You'd been turned into a whimpering and drooling mess, a total slut for his cock. You wanted him to have his way with you and you knew that if he wanted to, you'd let him fuck you all day without arguing.
The intense clenching of your tight pussy around his length initiated his own orgasm, and now it was his turn to experience the compelling feeling of being right on the edge of pleasure. “Fuck, turn 'round." He desperately voiced, but he didn't even waited for you before decisively grasping your shoulders, swiftly turning you to face him. As he did so, he removed his cock from inside you and stroked it hard and fast for a few seconds with just enough pressure to make himself burst.
Your mesmerized eyes watched as the pleasure took over his body. And now, it all made sense as he started shooting his load aiming right on your bare pussy, just as he was doing earlier today when you first caught him in your room. The warm sticky substance coated your cunt and it was so much that it felt like it would never end, leaving you astonished. You couldn't help but smile at the sight before you.
You two stared into each other's eyes while desperately trying to catch your breaths, sharing a small chuckle and satisfied smiles. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead and now, you knew who to come up to when you feel that funny feeling in your lower belly again. You knew Daryl had what it took to take care of your needs.
Without saying anything else, he pulled his briefs and pants back up again, adjusting his clothes. Then, he reached for his pocket, pulling out those panties he had stolen earlier and putting them on you again, leaving his load smeary and sticking to your skin. “Leave it there.” He hoarsely voiced, ordering you to walk around with his cum inside your clothes while no one else knew of it except the both of you.
“And these...” He walked over to your bed and bended his knees a little so he could reach for the white cotton panties he had tossed aside right before railing you and put them in his pocket.
“...'M gunna keep these fer later.”
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a/n: omg guys the first part of sweet scent got over 1.1k notes and that's like??? insane??? tysm for all ur support, that's crazy. it was so much fun to write both parts and i'm so thankful if you read it this far!! i hope y'all have a great and happy holidays xx
taglist: @imagininghim , @murdadixon , @epilepsywarrior8787 , @darklydixon
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