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slttygeto · 7 months

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SO, YOU GOT A BOYFRIEND? | GETO S.

synopsis: when watching a certain scary movie gives your husband, suguru, the perfect idea on how to ruin you.

c.w: p0rn with plot, fem!reader, reader is referred to as “good girl” “pretty girl”, mask kink (hehe<3), slight fear play, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, suguru talks you through it, praise kink, strength kink if you squint, im obsessed with suguru's arms, clit smack, multiple orgasms.

word count: 2,1k

note: i am BRICKED after writing this. happy halloween hehe.

ghostface suguru! ( @aurelianamu )

In a dimly lit room, at around 10PM—it was a bit cold outside, the perfect weather to snuggle up and watch some movies. Romance movies? No, you did that last week. Action movie? Eh, you were not in the mood for that—oh, Scream. Your thumb presses on the movie before you put the remote control down and walk towards the kitchen to grab some snacks.

“Sugu, I picked a movie!” you announce as you make your way out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and two drinks. Your husband marches down the stairs in a lazy manner, his long strands messily sticking out of his ponytail that he has to stop and tie it up again. He sees what movie you picked and he stands behind you on the couch.

“Scream?” he questions, hands resting on your shoulders.

“First movie, pretty iconic.”

“I don’t think it’s that scary though,” he doesn’t really say that he would rather watch something else, simply joins you on the couch and pulls you towards him with the bowl of popcorn resting on your lap.

The movie is indeed not that scary, you kept quoting some of the lines here and there, which earned you a chuckle from Suguru every time.

“No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I wanna be in the sequel,” you say in the same voice and attitude and your husband runs a hand through your hair.

“I think you’d easily outsmart him,” your husband is very supportive of you, but instead of making fun of his statement, your heart thrums in your chest when you picture Suguru in the ghostface mask.

“Really?” you look up at him through your eyelashes but Suguru is staring ahead and doesn’t notice the eyes you’re giving him.

“Yeah, they’re all pretty stupid—minus Sidney, I mean the fact that—“ your husband goes on a three minute ramble about the plot, how he appreciates the intelligence of the main character all while saying that the choice of the ghostface killers was nice. Unbeknownst to him, you were thinking of something else. Something far dirtier than intended.

“Baby,” you cut him off from his ramble and he hums in response.

“You’d be pretty hot as ghostface.” Suguru looks down on you when you say that and raises both eyebrows knowingly.

“Are you insinuating something?” To which you shrug your shoulders before staring back at the big screen in your living room, playing innocent.

“Just saying.”

You weren’t just saying, you knew exactly what you were doing. The next day, you’re sat on your bed folding laundry while watching the newest episode to your favorite podcast. You liked keeping your brain stimulated, and it distracted you from the fact that your husband was always gone for long hours during the day. But when you hear the keys rustling and the front door opening, you raise an eyebrow but don’t question it. Today’s mission must’ve been quick, you think to yourself.

“Welcome home!” you call out from your bedroom but don’t bother to get up, you knew he would come to your bedroom immediately so you keep your eyes on your computer and go back to folding the laundry.

A couple of minutes pass and Suguru doesn’t walk inside the bedroom, so you start getting a little suspicious and decide to go check on him.

“Sugu?” you walk out of the bedroom and notice how the lights downstairs are turned off. You remember leaving them on for him, so he must’ve turned them off on his way upstairs—but where was he?

“Baby, are you in the shower?” the lights in the bathroom were on but the door was closed. Suguru never walked to the bathroom first without greeting you—unless something was wrong. You put your hand on the door handle, but before you could twist the knob, a warm and rough hand covers your mouth and your blood runs cold when you’re being pulled into a different room.

You don’t have time to scream or panic, because when you’re being pinned to the wall by a rather familiar set of hands, your eyes almost bulge out of your skull when you notice the ghostface mask. You’re breathing heavily, cheeks flushed but there’s no sign of panic because you know who this is—the dragon tattoo peeking out of his shirt and the wedding band on his ring finger are enough evidence.

“Do you like scary movies?” Suguru’s voice sounds silky smooth, but the flirting connotation to it has your heart leaping out of your chest.

“Sugu—“

“Wrong,” he pins both hands above your head and his body is so close to yours that you feel the heat radiating off of it. “Let’s try again, I know my girl is smart.”

Your breath is caught in your throat, but you play along and nod sheepishly.

“Do you like scary movies?”

“Mhm,”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He traces a finger over your cheek, and the arousal slowly starts pooling between your legs.

“Hm, I don’t know,” you reply in a similar flirtatious tone, nervousness long gone. The realization that you didn’t have to explicitly tell your husband about the ghostface mask and him buying it for your pleasure made all of this very thrilling.

“You have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“Hm, Halloween,” you stick to the same script of the movie, you buck your hips towards him but he pushes a knee between your legs and pins you again to the wall. “Y’know, the one with the guy with the white mask that walks around and stalks baby sitters?”

“Yeah,” Suguru breathes out and takes in how gorgeous you look like this—how he should’ve thought of doing this a long time ago. Your eyes were blown out with lust, chest heaving in excitement all while allowing him to play with you like this. He could feel his pants tighten and his cock was slowly getting hard from knowing exactly what was coming.

“What’s yours?” you bring him out of his thoughts and although you can’t see his face, you know that he was giving you that signature charming smile that always won over your heart.

“Guess.” He purrs out and you subconsciously start grinding against his knee before giving him a reply.

“Nightmare on Elm Street,”

“Wrong,” Suguru goes off script and your lips part for a moment. You’re about to complain, tell him that this wasn’t in the movie—he lets go of your wrists and throws you over his shoulder, delivering a harsh smack to your ass, his rough hand kneads the skin as he makes his way towards your bedroom.

“Better luck next time,” he throws you on the bed and you let out a gasp when your back hits the mattress. You try to sit up, but your husband grabs your ankles and pulls you down towards the end of the bed. “Now let’s see just how fucking filthy you are,”

He parts your legs with his big hands covering the plush skin of your thighs, and you whine out when he removes your shorts to reveal your panties that had an obvious wet patch on them.

“Fuuuck,” he breathes out and lifts up the mask enough for his mouth and nose to be visible. He presses his nose against your panties and takes a whiff of your arousal, the sight is obscene and your face turns red at how pussy drunk he sounds. “Fuck, fuck—should’ve done this sooner baby, you smell so fucking good,” he gives your pussy a kiss through the fabric of your panties before his fingers remove them so messily that you let out a startled noise.

Suguru dives in between your legs and the wet sounds are dirty and make you feel even more turned on. His tongue laps at your clit, fingers pulling the hood back before spitting on it and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he sucks. Two of his thick fingers prod at your entrance, gathering some of the slick that’s pooled there before pushing a single finger inside.

“Thaaaat’s it, good girl,” he breathes out against your clit before giving it a kiss as he pushes the second finger inside. “Yeah, this pussy loves being stuffed by me—fuck, you’re so wet for me. All because of this mask baby girl?” his tone is playful but you’re far too gone to complain and just mindlessly nod.

“So drunk off of me and I haven’t even given you my cock,” he pumps his fingers in and out of you all while curling them to find that one spot inside you. He licks, sucks and spits on your clit with so much passion and when he finds that one spot, you let him know pretty quickly.

“Oh!” you gasp and your thighs shake. “S-Suguru, oh fuck--!” his wrist is burning as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, and the veins in his forearm are bulging out from the sheer strength he is using to finger fuck you until you see white. His free hand comes down and presses against your stomach to apply pressure and keep you pinned down.

You make the mistake of opening your eyes to stare at him. His hand is covered in your arousal, but what truly pushes you over the edge is the fact that his mask had come down and was covering his face entirely. So when he decides to talk you through it, give you that one final push—the ghostface mask seems to intensify the orgasm tenfold.

“I know you’re a good girl, but I’m gonna need you to get dirty for me baby—there it is, theeere it is,” he sounds proud when you finally cum, and you’re loud. You whine and let out soft cries, your hands weakly push at his arm when he keeps fingering you through your orgasm.

“Suguru—too much!” you cry out and gasp when he pulls his fingers out of your soaking pussy to slap your clit.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he quickly starts to unbuckle his belt and pushes his pants enough to free his cock. The tip nudges at your folds and your husband hovers over you with his lean stature. Big broad shoulders cover your entire frame and you’re fucked out from your previous orgasm.

“I’m going in baby, let me in,” your legs spread instinctively to welcome him inside of you and you groan when you feel the sheer size of him inside you. Your hands grip at the back of his shirt, but Suguru holds himself up on his forearms so that you look at his mask.

“Yeah, that’s right—look at me baby, filthy fucking girl,” his strokes were slow but hard. His hands grab at the back of your thighs and push them before fucking into you harder. “You like it, huh?” you couldn’t even give a proper response, only mindlessly nodding when you could feel him even deeper inside you.

He pushes your knees to your chest before setting a dizzying pace. You feel so full of him, so full of his thick cock and Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head behind his mask every time he felt your pussy squeeze around him. His finger rubs at your clit the same way that you’ve shown him you like it, and the tip of his cock repeatedly nudges against that one spot that has you falling apart underneath him with a loud cry.

Your orgasm hits you hard and Suguru can’t hold it in any longer—he fucks into you for another minute, head buried in your neck as he groans out your name. Your pussy milks him dry, and he fills you up to the brim—to the point where you could feel him leak out of you.

You lay there breathing heavily, and you weakly reach for the ghostface mask and remove it off of your husband to reveal his sweaty forehead and flushed cheeks. He looks gorgeous like that, and you lock eyes for the first time since the entire night and you’re immediately pulled in towards one another.

Suguru kisses you with so much passion, dick still buried deep inside you and your legs stay wrapped around him as you two make out heavily under your sheets that stuck to your sweaty bodies. You pull away for a moment to kiss his forehead and Suguru closes his eyes as he melts at your touch.

“Thank you for that,” you say, so love struck that the man can’t help but chuckle at how breathless you sound.

“Let’s do it again, yeah?”

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

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#moon's works #yoooou're deaaaad and burieddd darling--AND BRICKED HELLO?#enjoy this because I did too #ghostface suguru my love #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto smut #geto x reader smut #jjk geto #jjk smut #jjk geto suguru #suguru geto smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut

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isuckatwritingsobenice · 4 months

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𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.

Synopsis: What I think Alastors wife would be like, if he had one of course.

Warnings: mentions of blood, pinning, harassment?, Alastor being himself, not in a specific time period but at some point shifts to hell? Let me know if anyone is interested in a part two!!

Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)

Alastors wife probably didnt like him at first, and that’s a guarantee. He likes a challenge, but Alastor also likes being liked by people. It fills his ego, makes him feel good about himself. He likes to watch people stumble and fall but quite literally cracks under the pressure of doing just that when it comes to winning you over. Chances were he was constantly trying to figure you out, for two reasons. One, being that he didn’t understand how you couldn’t like him. I mean come on, look at him! He’s got the charm, the manners, the style and the class, the status. What more could you want? The second reason being, the more you denied him, the more he took it as a challenge, the more he wanted you.

Well, surprise surprise, you dont like people with an image to keep up; and to his dismay, that’s exactly what he does. He projects an image. One he refuses to change, and even after marrying you, still doesn’t drop the image, but starts to become more real and honest with himself.

“People who project an image of themselves to others are just trying to fool themselves into being someone they aren’t.” Was what you told him.

Alastor had also asked you out multiple times before you finally said yes. Everyone knows Alastor is very picky with the people he chooses to surround himself with. Everyone he associates with is either there to serve him, or to provide him with something, even if they’re unaware of it. Which only made you trust him less. What purpose did you serve him? What if one day he found you no longer useful and tossed you to the side? Well what were you to do then?

Denying him proved to be a challenge in itself, seeing that he’s quite literally everywhere all at once.

He’d try cheap tricks first. Buying you gifts, constantly showing up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers or a stuffed animal. One time he even got you a whole gift basket of your favorite treats. How sweet~ if it was actually about you and not him just trying to patch up his ego. Well at least that was what you thought on the matter.

If that didnt work he’d resort to going ghost. After all, people only miss you when you’re gone right? Well not in this case. He had left you alone physically, at least to your knowledge, but he had still kept a close watch on you. Why, he just knew it would bother you that he suddenly stopped! Until he overheard you speaking with a friend about how happy you were to finally get some peace and quiet. Well that simply wouldn’t do. After all, you should always make an impact, and what kind of impact would he be leaving on you if you went back to your old boring life? No no that just wont do dear.

He’ll start showing back up at your doorstep, taking you on surprise outing to force you to spend time with him. He’ll take you on a walk around a nearby park, a restaurant one day, the picture show the next. He has a long list of places to take you, so you’ll never go to the same place twice! Get your dancing shoes because he’s gonna take you out to the town for the night, after all the city never sleeps! This is when he becomes less forceful, but more of a decent calm. He begins to listen more when you speak, and you actually begin to care about what he’s saying, what a shock!

It’s almost like a switch flips after your outings. He’ll take you to an orchestra show, snickering to himself when he sees your eyes begin to water as the show closes out. He’ll force you to hold onto his arm as he walks you across the street on a rainy night, making sure you don’t slip or trip on the wet pavement. If you ever do, he’ll try his best to catch you and if he doesn’t? Oh what a nightmare, it seems he’s fallen too! For you that is~

You two begin to feel closer, not only physically but emotionally. He gets you to open up about your personal struggles, and in turn, he’ll share some of his own, but not too much. He doesn’t allow himself to be fully and completely vulnerable with you, not yet. But he does try his best to sympathize with you when you share your piece of mind with him. He feels accomplished to know this part of you, and his ego is the last thing on his mind anymore, but instead you take up all the space.

He doesn’t use pet names for you, not cute ones anyway. He’ll call you his devilish belladonna, especially if you love flowers. His creepy spider Lillie. He’ll often speak in the ‘language of flowers’, and will educate you on it if you don’t know so you know exactly what he’s talking about.

He’s the type of person to correct people in public to make them feel stupid, but he never does that with you. Instead he’ll wait until it’s just the two of you and tell you jokingly how wrong you were. You’ll get upset because he let you look like a fool, but in his mind he’s just protecting your feelings. If anyone else corrects you, they’ll have their mouth sewn shut that’s for sure!

He never gets you the same bouquet of flowers. They’re always different, and every week or so you have a new one. He keeps a separate batch for himself so he knows when to get you another. That being said he also makes the bouquets himself, he does not buy them for you already made.

When you finally take Alastor up on his offer to court you properly, he is over the moon about it! Finally, you seem to be coming to your senses dear! Though you quickly follow that comment up with a “Let the blood rush to your head first.” He just bats his lashes at you with a smile. You always know how to make him feel so loved!

Gets very jealous very easily. If he sees you laughing with someone that isn’t him, he’ll size them up before deciding if they’re a threat or not. Heaven forbid anyone actually put their hands on you and uh oh! Limb of the floor someone come get it!

His possessive nature is rooted in abandonment, and thus being said, he has deep attachment issues to you. You are never out of his sight when you two begin dating, and you’re hardly ever far from him in general. You two dress similarly too, especially if you’re from the same era. He’ll switch up your wardrobe slowly so it complements his.

He isn’t one for strong PDA unless he feels like he needs too or just has a strong want too. Usually it’s an arm around your waist, or you hanging onto his arm loosely. The most he’ll ever really do is a kiss on the back of your hand or to your temple. That being said, he’s like this for various reasons.

One, he has a lot of enemies, which means that not not only does that put you in danger, but if you’re also a powerful overlord, it puts him at risk too, though he doesn’t care much about that part.

Second, he doesn’t like physical contact much, and though he always makes an exception for you, he has his image and pristine reputation to keep up. Which you extremely dislike but tolerate because it’s Alastor and if he hasn’t changed much in centuries, nothings going to change ever.

Alastor is very very fond of you, whether you believe it or not. Your fiery attitude has him whipped more than he likes to admit. He’ll joke with other sinners that he’d sacrifice you to save himself but you both know that isn’t true, his nervous ticks prove it to be false, if you do say so yourself.

He’s very fidgety. He’ll tug a piece of your clothing or twirl a strand of your hair between his claws. If you claim he’s messing up your hair he’ll cast a tornado of shadows around you to fuck it up even more, and then smiling at you lovingly when you threaten to cut his ears off because you can’t tell if they’re his hair or just furry ass ears. You always give him a good laugh.

Other sinners are actually convinced you both hate each other, but turf wars on the news show that you two are the most in love when you’re wreaking havoc on innocent sinners for no possible reason other than the fact you two had an argument and the best way to settle it? Dancing in the rain, which actually isn’t rain, just blood falling from the sky because you like to kill people for fun.

“My darling looks the best in red if I do say so myself! Especially if she’s dressed by another’s remains, oh the beauty!”

Alastor has and will continue to get in his feelings about you and his mother getting along so well. He loves you both to pieces, so seeing his two favorite people together makes his dead heart swell with joy.

He’ll ask you to accompany him to the tailors, he values your opinion more than others so you often make adjustments to his suit and he’s just like ‘Whatever she says that’s what’s going on the suit.’ You also make him your personal dressing doll, trying different patterns and styles on him for fun. Alastor is a true skinny jeans hater and he will die on that hill, again. He really appreciates the 60’s style, but prefers to stick to his own decade.

He will take you out hunting with him, and the two of you share breakfast together with the fresh meat you’ve caught. He only gets the best quality for you because he refuses to have you two ‘eating like chums’. A restaurant tried to lie to the two of you, saying their meat was high quality and fresh. Alastor killed everyone in it and you two shared remains like a true power couple. Hells finest of course. ;)

He’s very critical of picking out jewelry for you. Hunting for the perfect ring for you took him ages, mainly because he knew exactly what he wanted but no jeweler had what he wanted all in one ring. So instead he forces them to make him a custom one. Torn limbs and bloody parts later, you have the ring that Alastor worked so hard to give you. He proposes to you Extermination day, claiming he’d love to spend another year in hell with you before the angels come to rip you two apart from each other. It was such a sweet day, at least to you it was.

The type of relationship where he plays the piano and you sing. He loves when you sing and will gush about you to anyone in sight even if he doesn’t know them.

Is very needy in private. He’s a stage 10000 clinger, and will stick to you like his life depends on it, but will be damned if anyone catches him. You don’t tell anyone about it, you like the private life.

You two have cook offs all the time. You make the hotel staff judge, and ultimately Niffty is the tie breaker because she’s brutally honest. Once she told Alastor he should stay out of the kitchen because women were better at it for a reason… harsh!

He was fine though, he got her back by ridding the hotel of bugs. He knows she likes chasing them around and for that she sobbed at his feet for ten minutes asking him to bring them back. It didn’t take much actually, Sir Pentious brought them back on his own, much to Charlies dismay.

He loves to read with you. You two often read a book and once you both finish you have a tea session over it. It starts off being about the book and then somehow shifts to just gossiping and talking shit about the other overlords, except for Rosie, we love Rosie in this household.

Speaking of, Rosie is usually where you get your clothes from. She’s a sweetheart when she isn’t picking pieces of muscle from her teeth, that sharp smile is a killer! She loves to talk about Alastor with you, and usually she’s where you go after you two have had an argument. You’re also her personal Barbie doll. She puts you in outfits and she and Alastor judge over them. Nine times out of ten you leave her boutique with a new wardrobe every time.

Now let’s talk about Vox.

Honestly the whole reason Vox knows about you is probably because he was digging through Alastors shit. But when he sees you? Oh lord, this man is HOOKED.

He doesn’t even know how Alastor managed to get you entangled with him. He finds out about you when you and Alastor aren’t dating yet, and he basically jumps at his chance to try to be with you.

Vox will forever consider you the one that got away, you can’t change my mind.

Alastor has proven time and time again that he’s basically better than Vox. He took a seven year back, came on the radio one day and boom all his viewers were back. In Alastors mind there’s no competition, just Vox being obsessed with the fact Alastor said no.

Valentino uses it against Vox all the time, and it will always make Vox buffer.

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin demon #alastor #Alastor and vox #Hazbin hotel #helluva boss vox #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin valentino #charlie morningstar #hazbin niffty

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feral4daryl · 6 months

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masterlist || MDNI

sweet scent.

perv!daryl x fem!reader

summary: while looking for his crossbow around the house, daryl ends up finding a pile of your dirty clothes and... used panties of yours. and when no one's looking, he decides to have some fun with them.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl is in his late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18), not entirely proofread, smut, mean!daryl sort of, corruption kink, daryl being an absolute pervert, panties sniffing, daddy kink, masturbation, cussing, daryl imagining himself doing the dirtiest things to you (unprotected p-in-v, squirting, face fucking, praising, loss of virginity, cunnilingus and i think that's pretty much it)

word count: 2.8k

a/n: please proceed with caution, this piece of work portrays a few extreme or unusual fetishes, so if you're not comfortable with any of those i've listed above please do not ready this. the idea that inspired this work originally belongs to @dilfsandmartinis.

if there was something daryl absolutely hated, it was the feeling of uselessness.

since andrea had mistaken him for a walker and shot him from afar, grazing his head, useless was exactly how he felt, having to lay down on a bed the whole day and night, doing absolutely nothing but be left alone with his own thoughts. and oh, what a disgraceful fate.

everytime he wasn't focused on hunting, fighting or surviving in general, the farmer's sweet younger daughter flooded his mind. your hair, your face, your stupidly adorable sundresses, everything about you was so... distracting.

daryl wasn't ever the kind of guy to simp for a woman, but that one specific girl made him feel emotions and sensations that were hidden deep within his being for years, maybe even decades. feelings he thought had vanished from his heart a long time ago were now blooming all over again, like he was some stupid teenager looking at a playboy magazine for the first time.

there was something about your innocence, your adorable mannerisms, your sweet voice and your kindness that had awakened something in him, something he wasn't quite sure what it was.

no, he wasn't exactly a young man. and while being aware that you were very young, he couldn't help but feel so guilty for having those feelings. whenever you bended over to pick something up, he had to fight demons not to have a glimpse of your panties. he often wondered how could you be so careless by exposing yourself like that, even if you didn't do it on purpose.

and there was him again, thinking about you. it's like no matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they were like water, always finding a way in.

he huffed, feeling defeated. he knew he was still recovering from the incident, and that he should rest, but why was he following orders around anyways? he wasn't a damn puppy. plus, everybody else had left him there to go looking for sophia. he wanted to be able to help too. he was alive after all, and if he was alive, he believed he should be on his feet.

so that's what he did. he slowly lifted his right foot, resting it on the floor, then he did the same with his left one. his body reluctantly lifted itself up, and he immediately could feel the consequences for laying down for so long, his back killing him and his vision a bit foggy. anyways, he ignored any discomfort and started walking slowly, his head still a little dizzy.

then, he remembered he needed his trustworthy crossbow, he couldn't just leave unprotected like that. he looked around the room he was settled in but it was nowhere to be seen. he knew it was still in the house, so he left the room. he started walking down the corridor, his eyes attentively looking for any signs of his crossbow. he was even starting to think that his mates might've hidden it to force him to stay in the house when he spotted a halfway open door.

his calloused hands pulled it open, revealing a small bedroom, all pink themed and stupidly decorated. no, his crossbow wasn't likely to be there, it just looked like it belonged to one of hershel's daughters, but it was like something was calling him in.

he stepped in the room and it almost looked messy. the dressing table on the corner had lipsticks, combs, all sorts of make-up and girly stuff all piled up and... a perfume.

it was happening again, images of you flooded his mind and it was like he could almost smell you. oh, your sweet scent had the power to make him hard like nothing else. just by looking at that small bottle, just by imagining your scent, he could feel little shock waves travelling all the way down to his cock, threatening to awaken it.

he knew it was wrong, so fucking wrong thinking about a much younger girl like that. and it was even worse considering that you were the daughter of the man that provided him shelter in such difficult times. it felt ungrateful.

when he saw you for the first time, he didn't think much of you. he was actually careful, treating you like the stranger you were. and even when time passed, he never really got close to you. now and then you tried to share a word, even if just a little bit, but it seemed useless since he would reject all your attempted approaches. he didn't hate you like he tried to after acknowledging his disgusting desires for you, but he just couldn't allow himself to interact with a girl that made him sick to his stomach for all the wrong reasons.

your sweetness was almost annoying. the entire world had gone to shit, for goodness sake! dead bodies walking around and eating all the people they could find. how could you act so clueless all the time? daryl even wondered if you had ever seen a walker before, if you knew what was really happening out there. after all, it was very obvious that you were a daddy's girl, always protected under your father's wing.

but strangely enough, acknowledging that only made him protective towards you. he was always somewhat watching, always around you making sure you were safe and he barely knew why, he just felt like he should.

so he didn't stop himself from reaching over to your small perfume bottle. the design was very simple, no labels to be seen, time had probably faded it away. the cap was baby pink and heart shaped, and when he removed it, he immediately brought the bottle to his nose, giving it a gentle sniff.

fuck.

now, he was 100% sure that was your room. the fragrance was the same one that filled his nose and made him drunk in you everytime you walked by. he wondered if that was the scent he would feel if he ever hugged you, burying his face into your chest.

in that moment, he couldn't think about anything else, not rick, not carol, not his chores, not surviving, not even sophia. you were everything that he had in his fucked up mind.

he wouldn't feel so fucking guilty if his thoughts were only about your innocence and sweetness, but they were also dirty as fuck. countless were the times when daryl imagined groping you, running his hands all over your delicate body, feeling every texture, squeezing every junk and listening close to your every little whimper. he would pull your hair, gently at first, just to get it off your face and neck so he could pamper them with little wet kisses, gently scratching his teeth along them. he imagined he'd have to keep you on your feet himself, since you'd struggle to because of how weak your knees would get at all the sensations he would provide you and...

wait, no.

what was he thinking? was he out his fucking mind? he needed to stop those absolutely disgusting thoughts right away. he couldn't keep having those thoughts about you, not when you're out taking care of such important business with the others. he put the perfume bottle back on the dressing table, determined to let all that go. he knew he couldn't just let himself get so distracted like that over something so mundane and unimportant as his own sexual desires but then...

...he spotted a basket filled with clothes when he turned around to leave. his mind immediately started to rush all over again, and for the 100th time that day, he turned careless. he slowly approached it. shorts, tops, pants and so on could be seen at the top of the pile.

in that moment, he had totally forgot why he had entered that bedroom or even left his bed in the first place. he couldn't even remember the existence of his crossbow or his duties.

and then... he gets an idea. he starts going through the pile of dirty clothes and in no time, he finds your panties. they were white with a pink ribbon on the front, a clear reminder of your innocence. for a moment, he just looks at it, contemplating the possibilities. then, he remembers seeing you in it when you bended over to pick some off the floor the day before. he remembers catching a glimpse of it under your yellow sundress when you went to change his bandage.

that meant that those panties had been freshly worn.

if just your perfume ignited such vile desires in him, he couldn't even imagine what your natural scent could do to him. and he was oh so curious to find out. he still felt guilty, but that man had been sex deprived for so fucking long, he didn't even masturbate very often. he knew damn well he was about to commit a big mistake, maybe even starting something he was sure he couldn't finish, but he finally made up his mind.

he flips the small piece of cloth over, eyeing the soft-looking lining of the panties. he gulps, feeling his mouth water right away. god, what was he doing? what was right, what was wrong wasn't even important to him anymore. he just wanted to embrace his sickness.

there was a small stain on the lining, probably from you wearing it. just that sight alone was enough to get him off, and once again, he found himself having to face that tingling sensation inside his pants. he knew damn well what that meant and what was about to happen. but honestly, he couldn't give a single fuck anymore.

in one quick motion, he brought the fabric to his face, giving a long sniff while he rolled his eyes to the back of his head. that fucking scent of yours got him drunk the moment it filled his nostrils. so intense, so feminine and raw, daryl couldn't remember the last time he felt that type of pleasure, or if he had even felt anything like it before.

it made him needy like a horny teenager. he felt himself going back to puberty when all he could think about was jacking off day and night. and it was all your fucking fault.

daryl palmed himself through his denim pants, never taking your panties off his face not even for one second. the natural scent of your cunt was more than successful to make him hard as a rock, the sensation of being in his pants started to get uncomfortable as his dick grew bigger and bigger.

just palming himself wasn't enough.

he slowly unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them, inserting one of his hand in his briefs to catch his hard cock in it, freeing it for the first time in a while. his angry-red tip was literally pulsating while a clear and sticky liquid dropped down his length.

he wasn't able to hold a small grunt as he wrapped his calloused hand around his cock, the rough sensation of his fingers causing him to feel a jolt of pleasure so fucking delicious and guilty at the same time. the archer brought his hand to his mouth, catching some of his saliva to use as lube.

oh, how he wished you were there. he'd make sure you'd get his cock nice and wet with your spit so you could rub it up and down. and then, without warnings, he'd just shove it down your throat, forcing you to prove how much of a good girl you could be just for him.

and just for him. he wanted you all for his own. daryl never really liked to share, specially when it came to a girl like you, so princess like, so adorable looking. your plump lips looked so fucking perfect, and they would look even more wrapped around his big cock.

knowing how fragile you were, he knew you would definitely choke and gag on him, struggling to fit all of him in your mouth. he would whisper sweet encouragement words to you like “tha's it, tha's ma good girl”. he imagined how he would hold your head in place and keep a hand on your throat so he could feel his cock while he aggressively pumped it in and out, making you drool all over him. “just like tha', yeah, show daddy how fuckin' good ya are fer him”.

in his imagination, you would look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, with a mix of uncertainty and desire to make him proud. “am i doing this right, daddy?” he could almost hear your voice saying it whenever you would take him off his mouth to catch your breath for a moment, never disconnecting your small hand from his thick length.

he started pumping faster, squelching sounds were all that could be heard in that silent room, a proof of his degeneracy. the grunts and stifled moans were only getting harder and harder to hold back. he was sticking those panties to his face and sniffing on them like his life depended on it, like he was a desperate virgin.

a virgin. he wondered if you were one. you sure looked like it, your dad never let you out of sight for long enough for you to try something like that, he supposed from what he knew about your relationship. he imagined how would it feel like to be the one to pop your cherry for the first time.

oh, he would teach you so many things, everything he knows. he would guide you through it all along, teaching you where to touch, where to kiss, where to lick. he would make your virgin little cunny cum so many times it would get all puffy and red. he even wondered if he could make you squirt, stuffing you with his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot over and over again until you were a quivering mess, squirting all over his skull tattoo. and yes, he would make you lick his fingers clean, your sweet little tongue dragging across them, and then, he would kneel down in front of you, not wanting to waste a single drop of your sweet release, attacking your sensitive clit and slit with his lips and tongue.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

he was so fucking eager to taste your slick, to revel in your salty taste. he imagined how fucking good the smell he was getting from your panties was from the actual source. he would lick it all, your lips, your slit, even your ass, but he would give special attention to your little clit, flicking his tongue on it, making it cum again just for him. he would never grow tired of it.

and when he felt you were finally ready for him, he would bend you over just like you used to do so absentmindedly. he would be gentle at first, but knowing himself, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back for too long before absolutely railing the shit out of you, making you cry out and scream his name in pleasure and pain.

and when he flipped you over on your back, he would be able to see the bulge on your lower belly caused by his big cock inside you. just by imagining that he felt himself getting close to the edge. he would press his hand on it, making the little room inside your pussy even tighter. fuck, he imagined the sweet sounds you would make just for him.

all those dirty thoughts and your sweet scent from your panties were more than enough to make shivers run down his spine and his whole body tremble. he kept his eyes shut tight as he licked a stripe on the lining of your panties, trying to get some of your delicious taste. meanwhile, he hadn't stopped his hands not even for a second, harshly rubbing his cock up and down until it was too much.

in a strangled moan, his cock started shooting spurt after spurt of thick cum onto the floor, the dressing table and pretty much anything that was around. he couldn't remember the last time he had such an intense orgasm, the sensation making his mind completely empty except for your image.

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?”

[PART TWO]

a/n: i know, i'm disgusting. i'm sorry. (just a quick reminder, english isn't my first language, so please excuse any grammar mistakes or awkward phrasing lmao, and tysm if you read it this far)

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sttoru · 1 month

Text

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your roommate, toji, can’t pay rent - again. he promises to pay you back soon, but you’re tired of his behaviour.

tags. (perv) roommate!toji fushiguro x female reader. smut, pōrn with plot kinda. dirty talk. rough. p in v -> unprotected. crēampie. fīngering. praise. reader gets called ‘princess, girl’. degrādation. toji’s a womaniser and asshole, like i’m talking dusty, manipulative asshole. unestablished relationship.

“that shit again?” toji rolls his eyes as he lazily switches between the channels on the television. he knows exactly what you’re going to say next. your complaining has a certain pattern that he’s picked up on.

he smacks his lips after being done with his snack. your snack - the one you put your name on before putting in the fridge. the dark-haired man shrugs, “i told ya, girl. i ain’t got the money this month.”

your head feels like it’s going to explode with anger. you know toji has the money. you saw him count the bills on his bed just yesterday, when you passed by his room to go to yours. “yeaaaah - gambled it all away, right?”

the usual excuse he uses. you’re sick and tired of hearing that for the nth time. it’s the same story every month. toji’s a lazy bastard. he’s living off your salary at this point. unapologetically.

“yep,” toji yawns, not even attempting to sound convincing, “got that right.” he knows you’re not going to do anything about it, so he takes advantage of that fact. you’re all bark, no bite.

you always tell him that you’re going to kick him out if he doesn’t pay, though you never take the action you swear on doing. toji has you wrapped around his finger and he knows.

even now, he notices the way you try not to look down at his body. his black shirt is slightly lifted, showing his happy trail that stops at the waistband of his boxers. the fact that he’s sitting on the couch with his legs spread only makes the sight more appealing.

“well, pack your bags then,” you cross your arms after succeeding into averting your attention to the problem at hand. you point at the door with a nod of your head, “i want you to leave by tonight.”

toji struggles to hold back a chuckle. he’ll play along for your sake and act upset by the situation. the tall man sighs and throws his hands up in defeat, trying to gain some pity, “aw, c’mon. have some mercy on me, yeah?”

you’re the one rolling your eyes this time. you’re not going to be naive about this anymore. you’re not going to fall into his trap. you stomp your way over to his room and grab the bag he uses for the gym, aggressively filling it with a bunch of his clothes.

“you’re going out,” you hiss as you walk back to your living room. you throw the filled bag at toji’s chest without hesitation. you know that you’re no match to a grown man, but you’re too fired up to care, “out. i don’t need some useless bum like you in my house.”

toji’s grin drops. his jaw clenches as he gets his bag thrown at him. you seem more serious about this. normally, you’d just cuss him out and lock yourself up in your room. you’re slowly breaking out of the helpless cycle you were in.

“move it,” you huff. your patience is wearing thin. you stand close to toji, your legs nearly touching. you’re towering over him as he sits on the couch, which gives you all the needed confidence. though if he were to stand up it’d be the exact opposite.

toji frowns and starts to realise that his usual manipulation tactics won’t work. he’s trying to think of other ways to distract you of your current dissatisfaction. some more… direct ways.

“you don’t mean that,” his voice turns husky. a real deep tone he only uses when he needs something out of a woman. toji’s veiny hand moves to the side of your thigh, slowly crawling up your skin while he gauges your reaction.

he’s never attempted distracting you in a sexual manner. perhaps now is the perfect moment to try out if it works.

your breath hitches as you feel his touch on your bare thigh. such a warm touch. you’re not going to act like toji hasn’t been attractive to you all this time. his cocky attitude is annoying, yes, but the nonchalance is also a huge turn on.

you’re in a daze. your rational mind is screaming at you to kick that man to the curb—to let him suffer the consequences of his actions—but you’re weak. you’ve sworn never to get involved with him intimately. you wouldn’t want to sleep with an asshole like him.

“do not,” your voice is shaky, revealing the truth behind your contradicting words. you can’t resist him and you’re slowly realising it. you don’t want to end up as all the other women toji’s charmed with his words and actions. you promised yourself that you wouldn’t fall for him.

and yet here you are.

“i can repay you in a different way, y’know?” toji hums, his other hand landing on your left thigh. he rubs your plush flesh up and down in a slow manner. his eyes watch yours intently. you’re nervous and it’s painfully obvious to him. he suppresses a victorious grin, “y’ sure you don’t wanna, princess?”

you’re as weak as they come. toji’s toying with you and you’re allowing it. you’re no different than those women he fucks every other day when he needs something from them. be it money or just stress relief.

you tremble as you feel his fingers graze against the insides of your thighs.

“i take the silence as a yes, hm?” toji chuckles haughtily. he cups the back of your thighs, just below your ass, pushing your body closer to his. you’re standing between his legs and his head is close to your chest. he looks up at you, “use y’r words f’me, pretty thing.”

your brain stops working. you’re so easy. all toji has to do is call you by those alluring names and you’re all his. his callused fingers stop at the hem of your shorts. they continue to sensually rub the material, inching closer to your clothed cunt.

“say you want it,” toji whispers, his raspy voice making your knees weak. you want it, but you’re stubborn enough to deny your desires. you’re throbbing, aching and wet for him. your eyes catch a glimpse of the bulge in his grey sweatpants.

“no, i won’t,” you try to keep your dignity, however you’re slowly losing it. it’s inevitable. you’re putty in his hands. you let out a high pitched whine when toji ‘accidentally’ slides his fingertips back and forth over your clothed pussy, “mgh—okay, okay. fuck—i want you. need you.”

you blurt the words out before you can stop them from leaving your mouth. you silently curse at yourself. your bodily desires have fully taken over. you hold onto toji’s broad shoulders, your grip on them so tight that it sends a shiver down his spine.

he knew that you’d give in sooner or later. the dark-haired man watches as you lower your head, placing it in the crook of his neck to hide yourself from him. he coos condescendingly—

“mhm. tha’s more like it,” toji wastes no time to pull your shorts down to your ankles. he licks his lips, breathing heavily against your bare shoulder. he can’t wait to take this further. he groans the moment your wetness makes contact with his hand, “shiiittt, she’s fuckin’ wet. bet you dreamt about this.”

your panties are discarded on the floor not a second later. you whine in embarrassment, though still spread your legs. you feel ashamed because of how quickly you gave in to his charms. you thought you’d be different, but alas.

your roommate is one hell of a womaniser.

“y’ think i don’t see those lewd looks you give me?”toji clicks his tongue. his green irises are shining brightly. he enjoys the feeling of your sloppy cunt against his bare hand. his thick fingers rub between your folds, teasing your entrance, “nasty little girl. got me wanting to fuck you silly every single time.”

the desire has been mutual all this time. you’ve been driving toji crazy since day one. the way you think you’re being subtle when checking him out never fails to make him hard. or when you walk around the apartment in those skimpy clothes—those shorts that define your ass so well.

he’s sure that you are doing it all on purpose. not wearing a bra, staring at him for too long when he comes out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around his waist, sneaking glances at the outline of his fat cock. you’re not as clever as you think you are.

toji finally has you in his grasp and he’s not letting go. he’ll pound you to the mattress, until you’re satisfied and overstimulated.

he’ll get revenge for all those times you’ve (un)intentionally left him hard. all those times you left him sexually frustrated. all those times he had to resort to other things to relieve himself. all those times he had to waste his cum on his hands or on other women.

all those times he couldn’t fuck you—his pretty little roommate.

“you’re a pervert,” you whimper as you feel toji slip two fingers inside you without warning. his eyes nearly roll back from how tight you’re gripping his digits. it’s going to be so worth it once he’s got your pussy wrapped around his cock.

“yeah, but tha’s how you like ‘em,” toji laughs, not taking any offence to the accusation. he is a pervert when it comes to you and you secretly love it. the squelchy sounds echoing through the living space are all the evidence he needs, “no need to deny it. y’r cunt is doing all the talking for ya.”

you weakly punch his chest at his dirty words. he’s riling you up in both the best and worst ways possible. you moan and your hips shake from pleasure, feeling him curl his fingers up inside you. you hiccup and try to silence him, “shut up!”

toji loves seeing you deny your own feelings. it gives him so much power over you. he knows you’ll come back crawling to him when he’s done here.

after all, you’re stuck with him. literally. he’s not leaving this apartment any time soon. not when he’s got a cute roommate like you awaiting him whenever he comes back home.

soon enough, you end up in his bed. it smells like him. you’ve only imagined being in this situation. with him on top of you, between your legs, filling you to the brim with his cock. it’s huge—bigger than you thought it’d be. no wonder those other girls come back for more.

you can’t talk anymore. the only noises leaving your lips are moans—signs of the pleasurable sensations rushing through your body. your vision is blurry and all you can think of is this moment that you’ve waited for. to be dicked down by your roommate.

perhaps you’re the pervert here.

“bratty attitude nowhere to be found, heh,” toji snickers while his hips ram against yours. flop flop flop — it’s embarrassing how much noise your wet cunt is making. you’re dripping on his sheets while he’s splitting you open. he’s doing it so, so well. he grabs both your wrists with one hand and pins them above your head, giving you no chance to touch him.

toji pants as his thrusts increase in speed. he can’t keep his eyes away from you. you’re beautiful underneath him like this, on his bed, your body a piece of art he wishes to admire every single night. he smirks, “all you needed was some dick to shut that mouth of y’rs up, huh?”

you’re humiliated by how cheap you made yourself seem. you don’t respond to the man’s words and just wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in. toji grunts and slaps your thighs with his free hand, surprised by your actions, “fuck—didn’t know my roommate was such a slut in bed.”

your mouth hangs open. you’re sure you’re drooling by now. toji’s voice nearly becomes inaudible with how focused you are on the feeling of his cock. it’s hitting that right spot over and over again, the curve of his pink tip almost kissing your cervix.

“fffnghh, right there!” you moan loudly. you don’t care if the neighbours file noise complaints against you. they should’ve done so before, when toji had other women over. you remember how many times you had to put your earplugs in because your bastard of a roommate couldn’t keep it down.

the same bastard that’s fucking you so good right now. you can’t recall the amount of orgasms you’ve had already. toji didn’t even cum once and that’s only embarrassing you more. your inability to control yourself is pathetic. maybe not to toji though; he enjoys how easily he can make you spasm and squirt underneath him.

“i got’cha,” toji’s voice turns sweet for a split second once he sees how desperate you are for another mind blowing climax. if he knew you’d be this needy for him, he’d have taken you to bed long time ago.

“need you to say smthing f’me, ‘kay?” toji whispers and bites your earlobe, nibbling on it. his husky voice in your ear is like heaven. it makes you want to listen to whatever he has to say. you can hear the smirk in his voice when he increases his pace, “say that i don’t need to pay y’ back no more.”

you nearly choke on your own spit. toji is an asshole—manipulating your moment of weakness and vulnerability for his own benefit—and yet you allow him. you try to fight the urge to give in, but it’s too late.

“y-you don’t have to pay me back anymore,” you repeat with a whine and shake your head. it’s impossible to think rationally when you’ve got a fat dick all the way in your cunt, hitting all the right spots. your eyes roll back as you babble inaudible stuff in between moans, “promise, you don’t have to—mghhh!”

toji hisses at the feeling of you tightening up around him. you’re insatiable, wanting to continue until you’re able to milk every drop of cum out of his heavy balls. he’s never had a girl be so desperate for him. so dumb and easy.

“atta girl,” your roommate hums and moves his hands to lift your thighs. his inhuman pace only seems to increase with the change of positions. toji stares down at you from behind his black bangs, “no more whinin’ about money ‘n stuff, yeah?”

his gaze is a mix of pure lust and intimidation. you nod your head along to all he says, too cockdrunk to resist anything. you’re living the dream and you’re unwilling to ruin it, “y-yes, not gonna do it again.”

toji groans at the sound of your whiny voice. he’s going to make you addicted to him—that’s his ultimate goal. his hips slam against yours repeatedly, a slick trail of your fluids sticking to his pelvis, “shit, pussy’s sucking me in, princess.”

you can’t get enough of him and vice versa. the dark-haired man fails to keep his composure for a second, pushing his body weight on yours, caging you right against the mattress. he can’t stop his cock from throbbing each time it dives into your insides.

“gonna cum real deep in you,” toji grumbles. he’ll give you every drop, all the way into your womb. he’ll make you his woman for tonight and the many nights yet to come. if it’s left up to him, he’ll gladly fuck you like this every day, “be greedy ‘n take it all.”

you gasp and feel toji thrusting harder into your aching cunt. you didn’t think he’d be able to go faster. you mewl and scream about how good he feels, which only feeds toji’s big ego. he grips your thighs tightly, nails digging into the flesh.

“fuck!” white dots appear in your vision as you reach your peak once again. you feel like your heart stops beating for a second. you involuntarily start convulsing, legs shaking and hips bucking up to meet toji’s.

he hisses and closes his eyes, shooting his creamy load all the way inside of you. ropes of warm cum spurt out of his tip, filling your pussy like both of you have always imagined. he sighs and thrusts a couple more times, making sure no drop escapes your messy folds, “mhmmm, there we go, girl.”

you’re still dazed. you’re slack-jawed, your spit dripping down your chin. you’re more sleepy than ever. no one has made you feel this good in a while. toji watches you struggle to stay conscious and huffs proudly.

he rolls off you and lays down on his back, stretching his arms. he yawns—not bothering with aftercare at the moment. he’ll let you cool off first before he gets you a towel to clean up. toji tilts his head to the side and grins, “debt repaid.”

he’s said it so casually. you don’t notice what he’s implying until you’ve calmed down. your rationality comes back to you after a couple seconds, and when it does, your heart sinks to your stomach. your eyes widen as you recall what you’ve basically promised him.

you promised not to ask for the money he owes you ever again. oh, stupid you.

“wait—”

unfortunately for you, toji’s already snoring. his eyes are closed as he lays there like he hasn’t just rearranged your guts and manipulated you to say stuff you can’t take back. you scoff and rub your eyes, kicking your legs in frustration at your own naivety.

what a bastard.

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk x you

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baeshijima · 9 months

Text

— “hands off! i’m taken!”

for the first time in your drunken daze, you don't recognise your own husband.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 983 wc, fluff, (attempts at) humour, mentions/reference of alcohol consumption

A/N : neuvillette is in pain (emotional) while you are in pain the morning after (literal).

it’s not often neuvillette finds free time amongst the seemingly endless piles of papers on his desk. when he does get some free-time, he always makes sure to treat you out to the places you most recently show interest in. however, these evenings out more often than not result in you having one too many drinks. (“it’s a rare evening date!” you would tut, waving a finger at him while your free hand holds the wine glass.)

he worries for you and your health after all, and he most definitely doesn't want you to experience these so-called "hangovers" you bemoan about as he coddles you through it all the mornings after.

and so what better way to help prevent such a tragedy than by putting a stop to it prematurely?

“hands off! i’m taken!”

…or so he thought.

regardless, that doesn’t change the fact neuvillette now stands in the middle of one of the (now quite humid) private rooms in the upper floor of hotel debord, clutching his stinging hand close to his chest while staring at your huffing form in a mixture of hurt and shock. he blinks once, twice, thrice as he slowly begins to process your words — or, lack of.

“pardon?”

“i said,” you stress, narrowing your gaze at him as you begin to sit up, “hands off! i’ll have you know i’m happily married to the loveliest, most beautifulest man in teyvat and i don’t need some… some meddlesome old creep trying to get in between that.”

were this quite literally any other day besides one you were drunk on, neuvillette would be jumping for joy over the moon (metaphorical… probably) and documenting this moment in his diary he keeps safe and secured in a locked drawer under his desk, positively cooing and sighing in pure adoration at your adorable self.

(he also doesn’t have the heart to tell you beautifulest isn’t exactly a real word, but he’s flattered all the same. and it makes you that much more adorable in his eyes.)

alas, this isn’t any other day. no, instead it is a day which marks his drunk spouse being unable to identify their own husband, and your intoxicated words render him silent.

now, don’t get him wrong, he’s glad you are, for a lack of better words, raring to defend your marital status and honour when intoxicated. however…

‘meddlesome old creep’? is that how he appears? he thought he looked quite dashing this evening, what with the way you sang his praises after he got himself dressed and questioned if you were actually married to one another.

then again, he supposes it’s still accurate to say you’re still questioning whether or not he is your husband. just not in the joking manner you initially did.

seeing how you’ve begun to grow a little restless with his prolonged silence, neuvillette awkwardly clears his throat and begins in what he hopes is a tone which masks the minor betrayal your words caused. “i’m glad you feel that way about our marriage, mon cœur, but—”

“stop!” neuvillette’s mouth instantly ceases movement. “how… how dare you, a stranger, call me that! just who… who do you think you are? my husband?”

“actually, i am.”

you blink at him. “you’re what?”

“i am your husband. neuvillette.” in all honesty, he doesn’t know why he’s nervous. perhaps it’s your scrutinising gaze causing him to sweat, taking him back to the first days when he could finally put a name to the emotions you brought out from within him — ones which have never weakened, but only seem to grow stronger as the days pass by. his hands clam up, and he’s glad you can’t see him wiping his palms against the fabric of his clothes from where you sit. even when you’re drunk, you tend to remember the most random moments. more often than not, they end up being in some relation to him.

(neuvillette laments the times where you only remembered his brief loss of composure.)

after a few more agonising seconds of staring, you speak up once more. “you’re lying.”

there are many things neuvillette wishes to say in response — such as showing your wedding rings, pulling out the small polaroid of you both nestled within his inner coat pocket, recalling the first day you met, the first day you talked, the first “thank you” you ever said to him, the first—

quickly, he snaps himself out of this spiral. just in the nick of time too, for you open your mouth to say something else. “my neuvillette is cute and lovely and pretty and everything a person could only dream to have.”

is he not cute right now? is he not lovely and pretty right now? is he not everything a person could only dream to have right now? what makes the him through your drunken lens so different to the him in your memories?

against his better judgement, he decides to ask the big question.

“then… may i ask what i am?”

“a liar.” and, as if to rub salt in the wound, you add, “i don’t like liars.”

neuvillette feels as though he could cry.

(when you awoke to a pounding headache the next morning, the last thing you expected was your husband brooding on the edge of the bed, his back facing you as he mumbled something along the lines of, “i would lie for you… not to you…” though it was a little hard to tell amidst the incessant pitter-patter of rain against the window.

despite racking your brain in an effort to figure out what caused him to be in such a state in the first place, the only things you remembered from last night were him wiping his hands on his clothes, as well as him looking as though someone slapped him across the face.

yeah. perhaps it is best you don’t tell him that.)

mon cœur = my heart, which can be read as my sweetheart/other half/life, etc.

if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33

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incognit0slut · 2 months

Note

Just honestly anything with husband/dad!reid

(Fluff, Sexual innuendo) Dad!Spencer x Mom!Reader. 1.1k

You’re flabbergasted at how much your son resembles your husband.

The resemblance was uncanny. You'd like to think that after nine months of carrying your child, he would at least look a little something like you. Sure, there were your eyes, and Spencer never failed to mention his adorable nose resembled yours. Yet beyond those traits, he was undeniably your husband's little doppelganger.

You watched in awe as they nestled together on the couch, engrossed in one of Spencer’s documentaries. Though you knew you’d seen it before, your attention wasn’t fixated on the TV screen, but on the sight before you.

How could they look so much alike?

It wasn’t just the matching mop of curly brown hair or the glasses resting on their noses; it was their shared mannerisms that truly struck you. From the focused furrow of their brows to the way they leaned in attentively, it was as if Oliver was a miniature version of his father.

You saw Spencer leaning forward, gesturing toward the screen. "See, magnets have north and south poles, and opposite poles attract each other while like poles repel. It's all about the magnetic field they create."

"Opposites attract?"

"Opposite poles, like north and south, pull towards each other," Spencer explained, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "While poles that are the same, like two norths or two souths, push away. It's all because of the magnetic field they generate."

Oliver nodded eagerly, taking in the information. "So, it's like they're drawn to each other because they're different?"

"Exactly," Spencer agreed, giving Oliver a proud smile. "Just like how sometimes, people with different personalities or interests can be drawn to each other because they complement each other."

"Like you and mom?"

Your husband smiled. "What makes you say that?"

Oliver shrugged. "Well, you like books and learning things, and Mom loves art and cooking. You're different, but you're together."

Spencer chuckled. "You know, you're absolutely right. Your mom and I might be different, but we complement each other very well."

"Are you guys talking about me?"

The two of them whipped their heads as they saw you enter the room.

"Mom!" Oliver cheered, jumping off the couch to tackle you with a hug, wrapping his small arms around your legs. You laughed as his embrace nearly knocked you off balance, returning his hug with warmth.

“Hey there, buddy.”

"You’re back,” Spencer greeted from the couch. "How was girls day out?"

"Amazing, Aunt Penelope took me to the spa," you replied. "It was so relaxing, very therapeutic... until I realized how much I missed you both."

Spencer's smile widened at your words. "We missed you too.”

“What’s therapeutic?”

Spencer turned to Oliver, his smile growing as he considered how to explain. “Well, therapeutic is when something makes you feel calm and relaxed, like the spa did for Mom.”

Oliver nodded, absorbing his words with interest. “So, like when I play with my Legos and it makes me feel happy?”

You grinned, ruffling Oliver’s hair affectionately. “That’s right, doing things you enjoy can be very therapeutic for your mind and body.”

Your son, who was still clinging to your legs, looked up with bright eyes. "Can we have a movie night now that you’re back? I think it can be therapeutic.”

You chuckled at Oliver’s suggestion, feeling a surge of affection for his sweet innocence.

“A cozy movie night with my two favorite guys? Now that’s what I call therapeutic,” you replied, giving his head another gentle ruffle. “But first, why don't you put these in the kitchen?"

His eyes widened with curiosity as he peered at the plastic bag in your hand. "What's in there?"

You grinned, holding up the bag for him to see. "Some snacks Aunt Penelope packed for us. Why don't you take them to the kitchen while Dad and I set up the movie?"

Oliver's face lit up with excitement as he eagerly took the bag from you. "Sure thing, Mom!" he exclaimed before dashing off to the kitchen.

Spencer chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "His enthusiasm is contagious."

You nodded in agreement as you walked over to him. "I wonder where he got that from."

Spencer grinned playfully, wrapping an arm around your waist as you joined him on the couch. "Hmm, I wonder."

"That boy resembles you more each day."

Spencer’s grin widened at your observation, a hint of pride shining in his eyes. “I suppose he’s taking after his old man.”

“He definitely has your enthusiasm and curiosity,” you remarked, your gaze drifting fondly toward Oliver as he bustled about in the kitchen.

“And your appetite for food, it seems,” he added, nodding towards the snacks Oliver had eagerly pulled out from the bag.

You laughed, the warmth of his embrace filling you with a sense of contentment. “He’s got good taste,” you quipped, leaning in for a kiss. "Ask me what else I did today."

"What else did you do today?" Spencer asked with a playful grin, his arm still around your waist as he pulled you closer before pressing his lips on yours in a sweet, innocent kiss.

You smiled against his lips, savoring the tender moment before pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. "Well," you began, your voice soft, "I booked a wax appointment."

His grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a look of mild surprise. "Oh?"

"Yep, do you wanna see it later?" Spencer's cheeks flushed slightly and you chuckled. All these years of marriage and he still managed to get flustered whenever you tease him. “Aw, look at you blushing.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“It’s adorable,” you teased, giving his cheek a playful pinch before leaning in to press a quick kiss to his nose.

He sighed dramatically, though the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his mock annoyance. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You grinned, feeling a rush of affection for your husband. “And you’re lucky you married me,” you retorted. “So, what do you say to a nice, warm bubble bath and one of my awesome massages with a happy ending?”

“You know I can’t say no to that.” His gaze then fell to the length of your body. “Do I get a preview now?”

Your head fell back as you laughed. “Spencer Reid, your kid is in the next room.”

“Our kid,” he corrected gently.

"Dad!" Your son's voice suddenly echoed through the house. "I can't reach the plates!"

Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly as he realized your son was within earshot, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

“Right, sorry,” he mumbled, his gaze flickering to you with a sheepish smile.

You shared a knowing look with him before turning your attention to Oliver. “I’ll help you out, sweetie,” you called back, already moving towards the kitchen.

Spencer followed close behind, his arm wrapping around your waist. “We’ll continue this conversation later.”

You shook your head in amusement. Parenthood certainly had a way of interrupting even the most romantic of moments, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/n: i’m sorry this is bad i wrote this half-conscious (i’m sick)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble

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bandgie · 3 months

Text

On Your Knees

ONE | TWO

incel!Seungmin x fem!reader

warnings! MDNI18+, drinking implications (no one is drunk) dubious??, pussy eating, face fucking (m!), hate sex (but no sex) seungmin is an ass (low key misogynistic), reader is kinda mean note! this is not meant to represent Seungmin or any of the members in any way. I just like the trope :)

2.7k words

The party was getting boring in all honesty. Truth-or-Dare is only fun for the first couple of minutes but gets repetitive. Same old questions on who you're fucking, if you're fucking someone, if you've ever fucked someone. The flat beer sloshes in your red solo cup as you sit on the floor of the living room.

You can tell Han is trying to come up with something interesting to ask Seungmin. Most of the somewhat funny questions were already asked, but Han still purses his lips as he thinks of something clever.

"Okay, I got it!" He claps his hands. "Best pussy you've ever eaten. Go."

Ah, I guess that's something, you think as you divert your attention to the cross-legged man beside you.

Seungmin is awfully quiet at house parties and looks as though he would rather be anywhere else. You don't like Seungmin, but you don't not like him. He's just a guy Han likes to bring around on occasion. You observe Seungmin raise an eyebrow, in surprise most likely. But what he says is even more shocking.

"Never eaten pussy."

"What?!" Everyone collectively shouts at his admission. Now this peaks your interest as you stare wide-eyed at him. "No way," you can't fathom the thought of someone in college never tasting a cunt. "Are you a virgin?"

Your bold question makes Chan choke on his drink, coughing until the bitter liquid finally passes through. "Jeez dude, you just can't ask that."

"It's literally Truth-or-Dare. I literally can," you retort.

The clamor of everyone settles as they wait for Seungmin to answer. Now that he can feel the pressure of everyone's eyes, he shifts in his seat uncomfortably. "I'm not a virgin," he says. "I just don't eat pussy."

"What the fuck?" You make a confused expression. "You don't eat pussy? Fuck does that mean?" Seungmin finally casts his gaze on you, acknowledging your presence for the first time tonight. "Exactly what I mean. I don't like it."

"You don't like it?" Han sounds exasperated. "You gotta be fucking with me. There's no way you fuck a girl and not want to eat her pussy." Despite Han being an idiot half the time, you agree with him. Every guy you've hooked up with jumps at the chance to eat you out and you know plenty of them would do it for nothing in exchange.

To meet a guy who's never had the opportunity to only means two things, and you're praying it's not what you're thinking.

"I just fuck to cum. I don't really care if she finishes or not."

It's worse than you could have imagined.

The room goes dead quiet and you suddenly figure out why Han doesn't bring Seungmin around too often. His stiff posture, his blank expression, the way he hardly regards you in any manner. It all points to signs of the worst type of man.

"So like what?" You can't help the clipped tone in your voice. "You some type of incel?"

Chan, who likes to keep the peace, says your name in warning. "Don't start." Though he means well, the fact that you're the one getting in trouble for speaking up only fuels your fire. "Don't start? He's the one who started with his dumb incel shit."

Seungmin scowls, "Ugh. I didn't even say anything bad. You're being so emotional."

The tips of your ears burn red and you feel your entire body heat up. You can hear Chan trying to diffuse the situation, but you hardly care about maintaining 'the peace' any longer.

"Oh, fuck off," you sneer at Seungmin. "You can't even make a girl finish. Fucking incel virgin."

Now that does it for him. You see Seungmin tighten his hands into fists as his neck grows red. "I'm not a virgin. And I can make a girl cum. I just don't care to." He enunciates his words harshly, some speckles of spit landing on your face. Both of your jaws are tense, teeth clenching as you glare into each other's eyes.

A vein sticks from his neck and his lips are stretched back into somewhat of a snarl. With a flushed expression, you easily see his cheeks heat up in anger. It's here that you realize he looks good when he's mad. You hate it.

"Okaayyy!" Chan claps his hands three times loudly. "I think it's time to call it a night." Everyone tries to stand and talk about anything else, but Seungmin and you are too busy having your own little conversation to notice.

"Never eaten pussy, can't make a girl come. Why you lying about being a virgin?" You mimic the vicious on Seungmin's face. He keeps his eyes steady on yours, "Whoring yourself out for a fuck. You're everything that's wrong with women today."

This makes you laugh, "At least they make me cum."

If you thought Seungmin was mad before, he's furious now. You must have struck a nerve because he stands suddenly and spins on his heel to leave.

But you're not done with the conversation. You raise on your feet and follow him, never ceasing to stop your vicious spewing, "Just be honest with me, Min. It's okay to have never felt a woman's touch. Not that you ever will, being an incel that is."

Seungmin hurries up the stairs of the house with you on his tail. You can't see his face, but you can feel the anger rolling off him.

He suddenly stops in his tracks, making you effectively bump into his back. "I'm not an incel," he keeps his voice low, but strong. "Eating pussy isn't even all that. You just have an ego bigger than your tits."

You try and play it off with a scoff, but you feel your face heat up. You grope your chest offendedly; you like your boobs. "Not all that? Come here." Pushing on Seungmin's back, you lead him to the nearby bathroom and shove him inside. He stumbles and trips over his feet, shooting a hand out to balance himself on the counter as you close and lock the door behind you.

"Fuck was that for?" He whips his head around to glare at you, but he's surprised to be met with an eerie smile on your face instead. He gulps nervously, "What are you looking at?"

You shrug nonchalantly, "Looking at someone who's going to eat me out." Seungmin looks as though you've slapped him across the face as his eyes widen. "What? Who said I was gonna do that?"

You're already hiking your skirt up to your torso, biting the cloth between your teeth, and showing the pretty little thong you put on in hopes of a hookup. It barely manages to over your clit and you can see the outline of your pussy underneath the material. With one hand, you use the tip of your finger to draw soft circles on it. Seungmin drops his eyes to your clothed core.

His Adam apple bobs.

"Come on," you wiggle your eyebrows playfully. "Get on your knees for me."

For a second, you think he's gonna walk out. He was so persistent about not wanting to eat pussy and his shitty attitude was...well...shitty. You begin to think that there's no hope for Seungmin, but he proves you wrong by bending one knee and looking up at you.

"I'm just going to look," he says more to himself than to you. "Just so you could stop your whining."

His hands grip the plushness of your thighs as he stretches the skin. The lips of your pussy peek out at the movement, but Seungmin is far from disgusted. His ears pick up on the sound your cunt makes when he uses his thumb to pull and push the skin together. Slowly, he moves his hand up to pull your thong down, exposing the very thing he claims to revolt against.

You shiver against his warm breath, his warm touch. You reach your hands down to pull up on the skin of your pelvis to further stretch your pussy. "Getting a good look, Seungmin?" You giggle at the annoyed expression on his face. His lips may be pulled pursed into a frown, but his eyes are wide with lust.

Seungmin is trying his best to hold back, but it's near impossible. Everything about you surrounds him: your smell, your soft skin, the way your voice echoes in the bathroom. He shocks himself with how much he enjoys watching your clit peek from your pussy lips and how the first signs of arousal make your entire cunt shine.

"Shut up," he mumbles.

You're thinking of a witty remark to snap at him, but you're instead pleasantly surprised with his lips ghosting over your core. Your body stills, letting Seungmin explore pussy on his tongue for the first time. He runs his lips over your own, feeling how soft and warm it is. Seungmin already knew how hot a cunt is, but tasting it on his lips is a whole other level of heat.

"Mmm," you hum at the sensation. "What happened to just getting a look?"

Seungmin looks up at you, mouth still attached to your core. His nose bumps on your lower stomach with his hair tousled over his face. Before you can think, you brush the bangs from his face to get a good view of his form. The sight makes you groan, bucking your hips further into his face. Seungmin makes a hmmf! sound as you bury his face deeper into your pussy, but he makes no move to deny you.

It's not until you start rocking your hips that he finally sticks his tongue out. He starts at the peak of your pussy, letting the nub roll over his tongue experimentally. Seungmin notes how your legs shake when he does that. He feels your hips still so he could properly suck on that part of your cunt.

The taste of you settles on Seungmin's tastebuds and he finds his tongue digging deeper into your lips. They dip down to your labia before going back up. He likes how soaked you make his wet tongue, how your hands twist his floppy hair to drive him deeper. He hates how much he likes it.

Truthfully, you're in the same boat. His mouth may not be experienced, but you upsettingly like how he lets you ride his face. "See Sungie?" You say his name mockingly. "Not too bad, is it?"

Seungmin doesn't stay put in your cunt. This time, he pulls away from your throbbing core to talk back. "I never said it was goo- mmf!" As lovely as it would have been to hear his voice, you reason that his words may not have been as nice. You had gripped the back of his head and forced him back to your center, uncaring how he gently slapped the back of your thighs in disapproval.

"Just shut up and stick your tongue out." You're impatient needless to say. Seungmin can tell by how you keep one hand steady on his head while the other gives his cheek light taps. "Open up, come on." You probe the man between your legs until he finally relents, widening his jaw so your entire clit fits in his mouth.

You hum at his mouth taking your core in, "Good boy. See? You were made to eat pussy."

Then you hook one of your thighs over his shoulder and wrap that leg around his body until his face is pushed against you. His eyes widen, screaming at you as if saying this wasn't part of the deal! But the panic only makes you laugh. He can pretend all he wants, but you know the bulge in his pants all too well as you look down on him.

Grinding on his face is easy with you in complete control. You sloppily rub your cunt all over his tongue with his head following your movements. Seungmin groans and grunts in your cunt, but it's far from the disdain he was filled with earlier. His hips thrust into the air at the feel of your essence dripping down his chin.

His jolts make you chuckle breathlessly. "Fuck, just look at you. You wanna cum? You wanna cum, don't you?"

Screw his pride, screw any stupid podcast he's watched, he needs to cum. He wants to feel your pussy clench on his cock, not his tongue. Yet, he can't find it in himself to tear himself away from your clit. If you taste this good already, he can't imagine the savor of you creaming on his tongue.

To not let a second go by without his mouth on you, he nods, looking up at you pleadingly. He's sorry for being a dick, for being an incel. If you let him finish in you, he'll never-

"Sucks to suck," you shatter his dream. "You're gonna make me cum. Don't move."

And he doesn't, but it's not because he means to obey you. You have Seungmin on his knees, mouth enclosing over your pussy while you tug on his hair and hump his face and you're not going to let him finish? At all?

Then there's no point of him being here. Seungmin should tear your grip off him and leave the bathroom, but he can't. Fuck, he can't. It's like you've put a curse on him, glued him to the floor with his jaw unhinged and tongue out as you grind on his face.

It has to be witchcraft because why else would he still be here? Does he really like the taste of you that much? Maybe it's how you look; flushed, sweaty, close to a high Seungmin's never been able to bring a girl to. Seeing you so close to your orgasm makes him eager to stay, eager to please. And god, he loves how your clit twitches in his mouth.

"Shit," you curse. "Gonna cum. Imma cum all over your face. You want that? Want my cream all over your tongue?"

Seungmin would rather die than tell you the truth, so he responds by sucking harshly on your clit. The suction is enough to tip you over the edge, digging your nails into his scalp as you bend the upper half of your body over him.

Your cunt pluses around nothing, but that hardly matters when you hear Seungmin gulping down your release. The very same man who claims to not like eating pussy, to not care if his partner finishes. That man eagerly licking you clean with his eyes rolling behind his head.

You shiver and mewl as you cum, softly grinding your hips to come down from your high. "God- fuck! Put your tongue in my pussy."

He does, finally getting a feel of your walls for the first time. They squeeze and pulse around his tongue and he gives a few testing thrusts that you respond to positively.

Fuck, you taste even better inside.

Seungmin can't stop fucking his tongue deep inside you. Not even as you wrap your leg from him and straighten up. A part of you debates on whether or not to let him keep going. At this rate, he might make you finish a second time, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction of that. Plus, you've been gone long enough for the other men to question your whereabouts.

You place the palm of your hand on his forehead and push him away. The shove makes him detach from your cunt with a lewd pop! as he catches himself backward on his hands.

"Geez. You're gonna lick it off," you pick your underwear up and step through the leg holes, ignoring how uncomfortable it feels on your sensitive cunt. Seungmin seems in a daze as you drop your skirt from your lips and adjust the material. Even as you walk closer to the mirror and touch up your make-up, Seungmin stays in place on the ground.

He liked it. Dear god, he loved it. Even with the tent in his pants, he hardly seems to notice how his cock throbs when he can still taste you on his lips. You only face-fucked him to prove a point, but you changed the trajectory of his life forever.

Yet, you wash your hands and use a hand towel to dry yourself like you didn't just make Seungmin question his entire purpose. You throw the rag to the man on his knees, managing to land it on his lap. "Your face is soaked. Clean it before they see how much of a munch you are, yeah?"

a/n: idk why I was at work was thought "yk what would be hot? making an incel seungmin worship you" and boom, this was birthed. I kinda wanna make a part two I have ideeassss also two fics in one week?? who am I? thank you for reading!

#smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz #stray kids #skz seungmin #seungmin x reader #stray kids seungmin #seungmin smut #seungmin #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #sub!skz #sub!stray kids #seungmin skz smut

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girlrotterr · 3 months

Text

Taste of Worship.

ellie x fem!reader Summary: you're the pastor's daughter.

──────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ────────

ellie winked at you.

winked.

She was sitting across from you at lunch when you glanced at her. It sent a shiver down your spine. The table erupted with tension as she continued to eat, a smirk on her lips.

her smirk.

The way she looked at you was intoxicating. She could see the effect she was having on you. You felt your face getting hot, a heat came up from inside you and ran from your cheeks to the nape of your neck. You felt this overwhelming sense of excitement and fear at the same time.

You glanced down and grabbed your book, hoping to shift your focus from the sudden interaction with ellie. But as you scanned the pages, the letters turned into a confusing jumble, making no sense. Your mind couldn't shake off what just happened. Frustration built up, annoyed that ellie had this power over your thoughts. She's known for causing trouble, challenging the rules and authority. Yet, there was something about her rebellion that excited you, something you couldn’t understand.

ellie started tapping on the table, right at the edge of your book. You glanced up, meeting her green eyes—losing yourself in their depths seemed all too easy.

“what're you reading?" she casually asked, throwing you off guard.

"a romance novel.." you answered while picking at the edge of the book.

ellie let out a soft chuckle.

"why a romance novel? do you want a boy to be after you? i’m sure the pastor wouldn't approve of that." She leaned forward, putting her elbows on the table.

Your eyes widened as your father, the pastor, was unexpectedly mentioned. His rules and expectations weighed heavily on you. His strict guidelines formed an invisible cage, restricting your every move. It felt like each step was predetermined, following the teachings he believed in. Everybody had crafted an illusion of pureness that you were forced to maintain.

“i-it's for educational purposes" you stammered.

ellie smiled, her eyes shining in a playful manner that made you shiver from inside. She got out of her seat, circled the table, and came closer to you. "what kind of educational purpose? to grow your knowledge on kissing, sweet nothings to the ears… sex?"

You quickly got up, the abrupt movement causing the table to shake. Clutching your book, you began to walk away. She’s crazy!

ellie smirked at you. She followed up and kept teasing you. She got a little bit too close to you, invading your space. She was so close, almost touching noses. "the pastor wouldn't like that. It's a sin. are you a sinful girl?"

You stepped into the bathrooms, the sound of ellie trailing close behind. "l-leave me alone!”

ellie leaned on the wall, arms crossed, looking at you in a way like she owned you. The smirk on her face drove you insane; you felt yourself getting weak at just seeing her.

"are you a sinful girl?" She repeated. She knew exactly how much effect she had on you.

Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and you found yourself staring at her doe-eyed. In that moment, you were at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond.

ellie leaned even closer to you, her breath whispering into your ears. "you're lost for words?... that's too bad; i was waiting for an answer.." She stared right into your eyes as she tugged at the hem of your skirt. She played with it. Her hand brushed your thigh for a few seconds. It felt like fire was caressing you.

“there isn't an answer.." You responded, looking down at the floor, too embarrassed to meet her eyes. ellie's fingers delicately traced your chin, lifting your head, locking your gaze with hers.

"then what am I witnessing? you're all red, your heartbeat is accelerating, and I can sense your breath speeding up," she remarked, gently moving your chin with her fingers, the warmth of her touch leaving a lingering sensation.

"you can't hide anything from me.” she smirked, closing the distance, her arms wrapped around you from behind, and her body pressed against yours.

"let me give you an answer," ellie whispered, her breath against your ear, "you're a very sinful girl, a girl with so many urges…are you scared of that?" The words hung in the air, leaving tension between you.

Your breath hitched at her gentle touch. Her arms were around you, her body pressed against yours. Your heart jumped out of your chest. Your insides trembled. Your mouth was dry, and you couldn't say a single word. She kept talking to you, her voice caressing your ears, making them go red and heat up.

"You're so pure in front of the pastor and everyone else, but inside, oh… you’re filthy.”

“Let me guess,” She whispered in your ear, her lips gently tracing it, the warmth of her breath sending shivers down your spine. Her tongue teased around your ear, the hot sensation causing goosebumps across your skin. A wave of heat flooded your body, leaving you trembling.

“I bet all those desires are filled with my name.”

Your breath hitched at her comment. “t-that’s insane!”

ellie pulled away before laughing, still smirking at you. "you won't admit it yet, no?”

“The pastor's daughter wants a little revenge, a way to get out of these boring walls..”

Your eyes widened at the thought, the exhilaration of rebellion pulsating through you. ellie’s knee slid up between your legs, positioning you on her thigh. Her gaze, filled with desire, fixated on you. Her dominant and controlling nature taking possession of you.

The feeling of her thigh was hot against your cunt. Her mouth became closer until she was only inches from your lips.

“We have nothing to be scared of; we'll make our sin together."

Your lips parted, itching to speak. You wanted to explain how utterly wrong she was, how absurd it was to think such thoughts about her. As if you'd been staring at her licking her fingers clean from an ice cream cone last summer, or adjusting her belt in the locker rooms, the image of it being undone engraved in your mind. As if you'd follow the trail of juices running down her chin whenever she ate fruit.

Before you could even say a word, ellie's lips met yours, and in an instant, all your worries and thoughts dissolved. You felt entranced, as if you'd been drawn into something forbidden. Your lips were tainted with sin, yet you couldn't help but surrender to every moment of it.

Her warmth seeped into every fiber of your being. The sensation of her lips against yours was like a blazing inferno, igniting a passion that felt almost unbearable. The taste of her saliva was like liquid fire, burning your lips.

ellie began unbuttoning your shirt. With each button she unfastened, your excitement intensified. She pulled you closer, pressing down on your hips. Her warm breath against your lips.

“mm.. so fucking pretty..”

She’s staring at your breasts, your white lace bra cupping your chest perfectly. It was a beautiful sight to ellie, and the fact that it had been kept from her was annoying. She’s had her eye on you the minute she enrolled. Admiring the way you moved, the way your thighs swayed. God… she just wanted to grip them, lick them, fuck the cunt that’s between them. Her fingers trailed up your stomach, she ran them along your neck, and slightly played with your hair. She looked at you, noticing your flushed cheeks, your vulnerability making you appear pathetic.

“..m’gonna ruin you..” she said, her husky voice tickling your skin.

Her hand cupped your left tit, squeezing it forcefully while locking eyes with you. Her gaze filled with hunger.

“m-mngh..ellie…”

Her grip tightened, “hm?.. what is it?” You began to squirm against her thigh, the friction making you whine.

“n-need..”

“need what baby?” ellie's lips pressed against your tit, her hot breath causing a pulsating throb. She immediately went to mark your chest with bites, her teeth seeping through the fat of your breast. Her tongue glided strings of saliva all along your nipples.

"you fucking need this?" she breathlessly uttered.

“m-mhm..” Your nipples felt numb from her bites. She continued down, kissing from your stomach to your panties.

“pretty girl couldn’t use her words for me?”

The feeling of her lips along your body made you moan so softly, you couldn’t help it. "fuck.." she grunted, your moans were a melody to her ears. As if they were celestial. She wanted to keep hearing you moan, to turn you into a pathetic mess. Hell, she even wanted to see if she could make you moan her name.

“I can’t fucking take this,” ellie uttered, removing her leg from between your thighs. With a firm grip on your waist, she positioned you on the edge of the sink. She knelt on the bathroom floor, placing her face between your thighs with your cunt so agonizingly close to her mouth.

"I've been waiting for this..-" kiss "for.. so.. fucking-" kiss "long."

“Mngh!” you bucked your hips against her lips as she kissed your pussy. She hadn't even taken your panties off yet, but the sensation was enough to make you cum.

“mm.. yeah?”

“god.. please..” You moaned, tilting your head back as ellie's voice vibrated against your clit. ellie trailed her fingers over the wet patch on your panties.

“fuckk..” she groaned against your pussy, her ability to make you this wet should be a sin in itself. She shifted your panties to the side, now fully admiring your pussy. Your hole oozing, folds all sticky, your puffy clit throbbing, begging to be licked. It's a mess – your pussy is drenched, and it’s all because of her.

“god damn..” she whispered, “all for me.”

You gazed down at ellie, and the intensity of her stare on your pussy gave you goosebumps. It was as if she was in a trance, fixated on the view before her. She didn't need to do anything else; just admiring the sight seemed to be enough for her.

You gently ran your fingers through her auburn hair, locking eyes with her in a silent plea. As she looked up at you, and... fuck. Your flushed crimson cheeks and swollen, saliva-covered lips were a sight to behold. It felt almost sacred, as if this moment was an illicit prayer.

“taste me...” you commanded, clenching onto her hair, tugging on it slightly.

“mnphh... gonna taste it… n’gonna fuck it…” ellie groaned, her husky voice vibrating against your cunt. You moaned, tugging on her hair with more aggression. God, you just wanted to slam her face into your pussy.

“nghhh... fucking do it... please.”

“s.. such a pretty pussy... s’all mine... fuckk...” ellie slurred her words, completely pussy drunk. The more she talked, the more desperate your cunt became. Her mouth was achingly close to your clit, the vibrations of her voice were the only stimulation.

“ngh!” You'd finally had enough, tugging on ellie’s hair, bringing her mouth to your clit. The sensation of her warm lips pressing against it made your hips buck.

"m’gonna-" ellie stopped babbling, realizing her mouth was on your hot cunt. She immediately pounced onto it, licking from your slit right back up to your puffy clit, your wetness coating her warm tongue.

“so fucking good,” She spread your folds with her index and middle finger, parting your pussy like a flower in bloom. She dived back in, licking and sucking on your clit, creating a sloppy mess. Your wetness covered her lips entirely as she gripped your thighs, her nails digging deep into your flesh.

“fucking... fuck!” ellie frustratingly muttered, annoyed that she couldn't get enough. Aggressively, she placed your legs over her shoulders, granting her more access. Her licks became rougher, all sloppy, and you felt the pressure of her tongue against your slit, teasing inside your dripping hole.

You tugged on her hair harder, “Ah!... e-ellie...” you gasped breathlessly, your moans becoming louder, on the verge of cumming.

“Nghhh!!” ellie groaned, hearing you moan her name sent her off the walls. She needed to engrave this moment into her mind, into her soul, into her very bones. It was her, and only her, causing you ecstasy.

“you’resogood... you’reso... fuckinggood... nghh.” ellie quickened her pace, completely pussy drunk. She couldn't get enough; she craved the taste of you on her tongue, wanting it to linger forever. She'd stay on the bathroom floor until her knees bruised just to savor it.

“god... ellie-” Your eyes started to roll back, gazing up at the ceiling as if lost in prayer. You tugged on ellie's hair, pressing her face harder into your pussy, as if she wasn't already close enough. Your legs began to tremble, your body surrendering to the rhythm of ellie's tongue. You were in heaven.

“fuckk... yeah...” ellie smugly backed away from your pussy, admiring the mess she created. Her mouth was entirely covered in your wetness, giving her lips a shiny gloss.

“sin never tasted this sweet.”

#ellie x fem reader #ellie smut #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie fic #ellie fanfic #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x you

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roosterforme · 16 days

Text

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 6 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley asks you for your number, you can't believe he wants to spend his phone call on you. Even though you're nervous about asking, you realize you need answers to some of your questions. The promise of getting to hear your voice is enough to get Bradley through the week, but is he going to be enough for you?

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being sexy

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

When you woke up for work and checked your phone, there was a new email waiting for you from Bradley, and you couldn't decide what to do about it. As soon as you'd hit send on that selfie of you in bed, you felt like an idiot. Was he expecting something more than a random picture of you after you'd removed your makeup for the day? Was he going to eventually give up responding at all when he realized that one date with you was ultimately just a waste of his time on his stop back in San Diego?

But he had written back yet again, and you were nervous to see what he had on his mind. You dropped your phone into your purse, making a deal with yourself: you could read his response once you were at work. That would give you enough time to process your thoughts on the matter. You were being silly for wanting more and expecting more with every interaction. This man owed you nothing. You were probably in over your head with the mutual daydreaming and flirtation.

What were you going to do when it was easy for him to say that talking to you had been fun, but he needed to get back to his real life? What were you going to do when you weren't able to do the same?

Once you were settled at your desk looking at your Natural History notes in those last few minutes of solitude before your eighteen students arrived for the day, you let yourself indulge in Bradley's words.

Hey, Gorgeous,

You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...

It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?

Yours Truly,

Bradley

"Oh my god." You forced yourself to read it slower the second time around. He was thinking about you in his bed! He wanted your phone number! "What are you doing to me?" you groaned.

He wanted to call you. This man wanted to use his phone call allowance on you. He wanted to let you hear his deep, raspy voice over the phone while he spoke sentences that were tailor made for you. He expected you to be able to respond to him in real time? You were embarrassed to admit that it often took you hours or days to figure out how to reply to one of his emails after he set the butterflies off in your belly.

You did not know what you should do here, but you knew exactly what you were going to do. It was going to be impossible to pull yourself back out of this mess when the time came.

---------------------------

Before Bradley got a response to his email asking for your phone number, he got a box from your class. He could certainly get used to waiting in line when the mail arrived to find himself smiling with satisfaction instead of feeling disappointment. When he got back to his bunk and opened it, he rooted through all of the drawings of F/A-18s in search of the note from you. He smiled at the more businesslike greeting, knowing how many personal topics you and he had covered through email.

Dear Lt Bradshaw,

It seems as though we can't get enough of you. We're back, hoping for a little more of your time. Here's a batch of drawings for you to judge in any manner you see fit, but please be kind... I drew one of them.

Whether it's a handwritten note or an email, I'm looking forward to hearing from you soon.

Just looking at your tidy penmanship had Bradley antsy to check his email again. He had put himself out there as far as he could at the moment when he asked you for your phone number, but now he was nervous as hell. What was he supposed to do if you told him no? He'd already planned out not only a first date but a second date as well. He could wait you out. Unless you outright shut him down, he would take his time, making sure you were comfortable.

Upon inspection of the Super Hornet drawings, it was easy enough to determine which one was yours. It was clearly crafted with a steadier hand than the others, and even the block printing on the side of the aircraft where you'd written 'BRADLEY ROOSTER BRADSHAW' looked like your penmanship. He looked through the other ones, quickly making the assumption that the one with flames and dragon scales had been drawn by Oliver. The one with purple outlining was most likely from Violet. Something was telling him the one with a dog piloting the jet was drawn by Jayden.

He smiled at how connected to these kids he felt, but ultimately he tossed everything back into the box and started heading for the lounge. If you had responded to him with your phone number, he could get himself on the call schedule. His heart was racing, and his skin felt too warm as he logged into his email account. He had three new messages.

"Come on," he groaned when he was met with two names above yours in his inbox. Nat and Vanessa. He almost forgot about the fucking water bottle.

He tapped on the email from his best friend first.

Rooster, I need you to make better choices regarding your girlfriends, okay? I took care of it, but it wasn't pretty. Her pink monstrosity of a water bottle was in your kitchen cabinet, and then she tried to have a conversation with me. Sorry, but I called her a flaming bitch who never appreciated my best friend and said she needed to leave your house before I made her. Everything is locked up tight again to keep the rats out. When you get home, there's a new restaurant you can treat me to on Rendova Road. -Nat

He smiled as he tapped on the email from Vanessa which was exactly one sentence long.

I got my water bottle from your house.

"God bless Natasha Trace," he muttered, deleting Vanessa's email. Then he went ahead and deleted every email he had ever received from her. He shouldn't have been surprised that you and he had already exchanged more emails than he ever had with a woman he'd dated for several months. It didn't take long before they were all gone, and then he was left with the newest one you'd sent to him last night sitting at the top of his inbox.

"Here we go," he whispered, wiping his palm nervously on his pants before opening up your message to see what you had to say in response to his bold request for your phone number.

Bradley,

I read your last email an embarrassing number of times, trying to be sure I understood it properly. You want to use your phone call allotment on ME? And you were thinking about ME snuggled up in your bed? There's no possible way you could sound like an idiot. Not with that voice that I think about when I'm trying to fall asleep at night.

You know what, I don't even care if I misinterpreted something. Of course I'll let you have my phone number. Of course I'll let you call me.

Your giddy pen pal

Right there below your parting words was your full phone number complete with San Diego area code. Bradley smiled as he grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from the shelves behind him and wrote it down. He double and triple checked that he had it correct, knowing his next mission would be to get approved for a specific time slot and hope it wasn't going to be at a horrible time of day for you in California. Then he wrote back to your email.

Gorgeous,

You shouldn't sound so surprised. This thing we've got going on isn't open to interpretation on my end. I told you I have a thing for you. I believed you when you said you were interested in getting to know me. There's nobody else I'd rather spend my twenty minute phone call on than you. In fact, you're the only one.

I already memorized your number. I'll email you back when I know which day I can call you and at what time. I can't wait to hear your voice saying my name.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

He logged out and did some quick math to take into account the difference between time zones, and then he was all smiles as he signed up for the opportunity to finally talk to you in real time.

------------------------------

You read his email again as the hours slowly ticked away on Saturday afternoon. Your friends were asking why you kept checking your phone while you were out to dinner. Well, they would be doing the same thing if Bradley Bradshaw was in their email inboxes sounding sweeter than any man had the right to.

Hey, Gorgeous,

How does 10:00 on Saturday night sound to you? I know it's a little late, but I didn't want to potentially interfere with your work week. And I don't know if I can wait until next week anyway. I'm feeling greedy right now when it comes to you. I can't wait to make a fool of myself on the phone.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

When you let him know in the calmest fashion you could muster that Saturday night was just fine for a phone call, he wrote back one additional sentence.

Talk to you then, Gorgeous Girl.

You received that email on Friday morning, and in an effort to seem less desperate for this man than you were, you didn't write back. It was better to let his anticipation grow to match your own. But once you'd parted ways with your friends and headed home for the night, your nerves settled in. You were going to have to ask Bradley where he lived, and that would be that. You'd know all the facts soon enough, and that would pretty much become the determining factor on how long the two of you could really keep this up.

It was almost time. You made sure your phone was fully charged, and you had your ringtone volume turned way up. Barring some sort of disaster, your phone should be ringing in exactly fifteen minutes.

"Chill out," you whispered as you walked a few laps around your apartment in your favorite underwear and an oversized sweatshirt. At 9:56 you paused in your bedroom doorway, convinced Bradley wasn't even going to call. And at 10:02, you sat on the edge of your bed with your phone in your hand, wondering how you managed to get yourself in this deep.

He was in the Navy. Things ran on precision. It was 10:04, and your phone was sitting there on your palm like a dead brick. "It's okay," you told yourself. "Maybe he'll still call." For a few minutes, you thought that being hopeful was the way to go. Perhaps he dialed the wrong number the first time and was just regrouping. Or perhaps not.

At 10:11, you set your phone on your nightstand and walked out into your living room without it. That was when you realized that the lighter-than-air tingling sensation you'd been enjoying all day was gone, replaced with something uncomfortable.

"Don't even think about crying," you whispered as you pulled the hem of your sweatshirt a little further down your legs. You'd normally be drinking a cup of tea and getting settled in to try to go to sleep. A few months ago, you might have even been scrolling through a dating app right now. But you didn't want to do either of those things when you'd essentially been promised something as exciting as Bradley Bradshaw's voice for twenty minutes straight. "Fuck."

Just as you dragged your toe along the kitchen tile, trying to decide what to do now, you heard your ringtone. The clock on your microwave told you it was 10:16 as you turned and ran for your bedroom. Your fingers were shaking as you snatched up your phone and read RESTRICTED CALLER on the screen. You weren't sure what you'd been expecting, but it had to be him.

You took a deep breath and sank down onto the floor with your back against the side of your bed, and without any further hesitation, you answered the call as your heart hammered hard in your chest.

"Bradley?"

There was just a short pause, and it sounded like he was smiling when he said, "Hey, Gorgeous."

The lighter-than-air tingling sensation was back as soon as you heard him say two whole words, and you slid slowly down until you were laying on your back on the floor like a boneless mess. "Hi," you sighed, pressing your free hand to your belly to try to calm the butterflies.

You heard him clear his throat softly before he said, "I'm really sorry I'm late calling you. I've been waiting for this all damn weekend." There was an edge to his voice that gave you goosebumps on your legs, and you smiled before you immediately frowned.

"Does this mean we only have four minutes to talk instead of twenty?" you asked him.

"No, I made sure of that," he replied in his deep rasp. "I even got a little bitchy with the guy before me who wouldn't end his call on time. I told him the most gorgeous teacher from Mira Mesa Elementary was waiting for me to call and that I'd be lucky if she still wanted to talk to me now."

You couldn't help but laugh as the tingling sensation made its way to your fingers and toes. "You didn't tell him that!"

"I swear I did," he insisted, his voice on the verge of laughter. "He sends his apologies." He cleared his throat once more before he asked, "Any chance you could say my name again?"

You thought you detected some nervous energy in his voice which was somehow the most flattering thing you'd ever encountered. You closed your eyes and licked your lips, picturing his handsome face as you said, "Bradley."

Now his voice was as breathless as you knew yours was. "Yeah. I really like the way that sounds."

"Bradley," you repeated with a laugh as you rolled up into a little ball on your side with your phone held to your ear.

"Hey, if you want to just say my name for the next eighteen minutes, I'm not going to complain. I was dying to hear your voice, and now I just want more of it."

You had to press your lips together to keep from making an embarrassing sound, but you did manage to say, "Yeah, that's not really going to work for me, Lieutenant Bradshaw. I'm going to need some back and forth, especially with how much I like your voice. And your face."

He groaned softly, and now you really did make an embarrassing noise before you could clap your free hand over your mouth. "My face is nothing special, Gorgeous," he said. "Yours on the other hand... that's the kind of thing that could get a guy through a long deployment."

You whimpered, and you were sure he could hear it. But you weren't even as embarrassed as you were needy for more. You wanted to know everything about him, and twenty minutes wasn't going to be enough to satisfy you when it came to Bradley. "Let's just say you've had my full attention for months now. And the photos you sent are enough to get a girl through a long school year. Will you tell me how you got your scars?" you asked him. It was something you'd been curious about since the first photo he sent where you could see his face. The one of him standing tall and sexy in front of his jet.

"Oh, hell," he laughed, his voice taking on a self deprecating tone. "I knew I shouldn't have sent that sunset selfie. I was kind of hoping you wouldn't be able to see them in the photos or the video. I have a lot."

You scrambled to your knees and then your feet. The last thing you'd meant to do was make him feel badly about himself. "They just make you look hotter," you blurted out. "I've thought about kissing them."

"Shit," he grunted. "Baby, I'll tell you anything you want to know. My social security number? My bank account information?" You laughed and had to bite down on your knuckle as he said, "I got my scars when I was a sophomore at the University of Virginia. Just typical nineteen year old guy bullshit. I was riding my bike back from a party late, and I skipped the curb. Just a lot of stitches."

"Oh," you gasped.

"It's okay," he said quickly. "More superficial than anything. I didn't even miss any of my classes. This is just why I don't usually send selfies like that. But you're already an exception, aren't you?"

He was so sweet, you were afraid the butterflies would never stop. But now you were picturing him going back to a beautiful house in Virginia, and it just made you sad. You paced the length of your room as you said, "I'd still really like to see your face in person."

"That's a done deal, Gorgeous."

You bit your lip, already knowing how you were going to react, but you just needed to have all the facts. "I know we could probably meet for a date or two while you're on leave in San Diego, but what happens after that?"

There was a brief pause before he asked, "What do you mean?"

You tipped your head back and looked at your ceiling as you finally said, "I don't even know where you live or where you're stationed. All I know is that if you're returning to Virginia or somewhere else far away... I'm going to have to brace myself for it."

But when you heard his next sentence, you let yourself drop down onto your bed with a smile on your face. "Gorgeous Girl, I live in San Diego."

-----------------------------

This was going well. Bradley's whole body was thrumming with anticipation, and your voice was already embedded in his mind. As soon as you mentioned just the thought of your lips on his scarred cheek, he had to stand up for a minute. And when you brought up meeting him when his deployment ended, he was afraid his heart rate might never return to normal.

"I'd still really like to see your face in person," you told him, and all he could think about was Thai food on the beach and kissing your lips.

"That's a done deal, Gorgeous," he replied, satisfied in knowing for sure that it was going to happen now, but your follow up question left him confused.

"I know we could probably meet for a date or two while you're on leave in San Diego, but what happens after that?"

After that? He sat back down in his seat and thought about what would happen after a date or two. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands and lips off you, but somehow he didn't think that's what you were talking about. "What do you mean?"

Your voice took on a softer, maybe sadder quality as you told him, "I don't even know where you live or where you're stationed. All I know is that if you're returning to Virginia or somewhere else far away... I'm going to have to brace myself for it."

He froze. He hadn't told you where he lived? Had he really never mentioned it once in all the times he wrote out the address to your school in Mira Mesa? His heart was beating erratically now as he pieced together the fact that he was making all of these plans while you were trying to protect yourself, but you kept emailing him and sending him letters anyway. You were showing that you had genuine interest in him while afraid he was going to leave you high and dry after one date? Hell no. Oh, he was falling hard.

"Gorgeous Girl, I live in San Diego."

Your little surprised gasp had him holding his breath. "You do?" you whispered.

"I do," he promised. "Shit, I can't believe I never mentioned it. My house is in Coronado, near the beach in the photo you sent me where you look more flawless than the sunset. I'm so sorry I got so carried away with our emails that I never put it together that you didn't know I'm stationed out of North Island."

You were quiet for a beat, and he wanted to crawl through the phone and reassure you that he had never meant to stress you out. "You live in Coronado?" you asked.

"Yeah, Gorgeous. About thirty minutes away from your school. I mean, there's always traffic, so maybe forty minutes," he told you nervously. "I hope that's not too far for you to deal with?"

"That's nothing, Bradley," you said with a sigh. "That's... absolutely not too far. I thought you potentially lived thousands of miles away, and I was trying to figure out what to do about my feelings. I was so scared to ask you sooner."

Vanessa wouldn't even drive the extra ten minutes to the restaurant he liked, meanwhile you were putting yourself out there for him. He cleared his throat and said, "I already have our first date planned out."

"Tell me. In an abundance of detail."

Bradley's skin tingled with desire as he divulged his daydreams. "I'll drive up and pick you up at your place. You already gave me permission to hold your hand, so that's happening on the ride back to the beach. There's a good Thai place not too far from the bay bridge where we'll stop to pick up dinner. Then when we get to the beach, you'll be surprised and charmed that I packed blankets and a cooler full of beer and a bottle of prosecco. And we can sit on the beach, talking and eating while the sun sets, unless you'd rather sit in the back of my vintage Bronco. And then, when the sky is just starting to turn purple, I'm going to kiss you."

The beat of silence was satisfying before you asked, "You're going to wait until after dinner to do that?" He could practically hear your pout which made him get to his feet again. He only had five more minutes with you right now, and he was going to have to make this count.

"You want me to kiss you before that?" he asked, his fingers wrapping around the edge of the counter as your soft laughter met his ears.

"I want you to kiss me as soon as you see me."

"Fuck," he panted. "Then consider that a done deal too, Gorgeous."

"Oh, I like that."

"Yeah?" he asked, watching time slip through his fingers. "You feel more confident now that you know where I live?"

"Yes," you replied softly.

"Good." He closed his eyes as he said, "We only have a little more time right now, Baby. Anything else you want from me?"

You squeaked softly. "Will you email me a gym selfie or two? With a nice closeup of your face?"

He couldn't get over you and the way you made him feel. "Yeah. I'll hit the gym tomorrow for you."

You hummed softly, and he sat down in his chair again, raking his fingers through his hair. God, he felt like a mixed up mess over you after this conversation. Your voice was so fucking sweet as you asked him, "Anything you want from me?"

His plentiful thoughts ranged the full spectrum from innocent to decidedly not as he tugged on his hair and tried to keep himself in check. "Yeah, actually," he said, gravel filling his voice. "You know that inactive dating profile you mentioned before?"

"Yes."

"You should delete the app. There's nothing I know about you that I don't like, and I feel like that trend is going to continue. If you feel the same way, then you don't need the app, Gorgeous."

After a brief pause, your beautiful voice told him, "Okay, Bradley. I'll delete it."

"Fucking aces," he said with a smile. "Where are you right now?"

You laughed softly as he realized he had less than a minute left on this call. "Curled up in my bed with the biggest smile on my face."

"Send me a selfie?"

"Consider it done, Lieutenant. It'll be there when you check your email next."

He leaned back in his chair. There was still so much he wanted to tell you and ask about, but it would have to wait. "Listen, I need to go. But I'm going to work on writing back to your class this week. And I'll get the selfies for you, too. I'll see you in our inboxes?"

That soft laughter was right there again, and he felt like his skin was on fire as you said, "I'll take you any way I can get you, Bradley."

You could have him as many ways as you wanted him. "I can't wait to get back to San Diego."

"I'll be ready when you do."

---------------------------

I'm sweating. He's too much. He's too powerful. Bradley Bradshaw, get home and get your girl some Thai food! Also, Natasha is the friend of the year for taking out the trash. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 7

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youryanderedaddy · 4 months

Text

Tw: female reader, nsfw, m!sub to m!dom, con to dub-con/non-con, slight degradation, hinted baby trapping My Ko - fi <3

When you and Gerald started hooking up, you didn't think much of it. Sure, it was fun to play around with your high - school enemy turned academic rival now that both of you were in the same old prestigious college. And you would be lying if you said that it didn't stroke your ego to have the man who used to underestimate you all your childhood pussy drunk and wrapped around your little finger. But nowadays he was just acting off - even for his nerdy oddball self.

Before he used to feel so nervous around you, cheeks growing hot at your light - hearted touch. Your rival used to let you lead - with your body, with your eyes keeping him down, groaning underneath you as you rode him to overstimulation. He always broke beautifully, crying out your name as your heat milked him dry over and over again. He was quite cute like that, moaning obscenely, happy to let you use him as a stress toy.

But slowly things started to change. As university work kept piling up and the once friendly environment turned hostile and competitive, your fuck buddy caved to the pressure. His clear green eyes muddied, turning gray - and his fist would wrap around your hair unprompted, pulling instead of caressing. His kisses got desperate, aggressive - he wasn't trying to please you, but devour you completely. Even his tongue, once so sweet and wanton, turned sharp and degrading.

"Like that, little slut?" Gerald would hiss in your ear while taking you from behind - only stopping to slap your ass when you didn't nod quickly enough. "Just like I thought." He would smirk, and it reminded you of that stupid self satisfied grin he used to do in the past when he managed to beat you at something. "I should have known you were only good for one thing." He'd keep going, egging himself on as he thrust into you roughly.

You, for one, didn't care. In a way you even liked the change in him - it was new and exciting to let him take control and ruin you for once. You just needed to take off some steam - you could play both the master and the slave, the dominant and the submissive; as long as he made you cum your brains out, you were content enough.

The thing was, this change was too sudden to be organic or born out of desire. The shift in his behavior had been too frantic, too emotional - and the trigger seemed to be you once again. You two had just started a new course together - perhaps the most important one in your career so far. You were tasked with a big project and you were making a lot of progress - so much so that your professor had tried to find you a start-up sponsor, something most students weren't granted unless they were close to graduating. Gerald didn't like that - although he didn't make it known at first.

The next time you met him, he insisted you go to his place. It was your first time stepping foot inside his den - which was, frankly, equally exciting and nerve - wrecking.

He greeted at you at the door - said his roommate won't be coming back today, so you have the whole flat to yourselves. Your rival had even cooked dinner for you along with your favourite dessert. The whole romantic atmosphere made you feel uncomfortable - you had never seen Gerald as anything more than some quick weekend fun, but your well mannered nature prevailed and you didn't say anything.

Eventually he got you laying on his small creeking bed, naked and tipsy off cheap wine. You were giggling when your lips met - his tasted like whiskey and cigarettes, although he didn't really smoke. There was something weird in the air tonight, but you were too drunk and horny to figure out what exactly.

Gerald started fucking into you with slow precision, making sure to hit your sweet spot - licking the tears off your cheeks as you cried out in pleasure.

"You feel like Heaven." He whispered, burying his head in your neck, his nose tickling your sensitive skin. "And you smell so good. So perfect for me." The man kept blabbering. His words began to sober you up - there were nothing like his initial boyish whimpers or the degrading praise he'd shower you in nowadays. This felt... genuine. Rehearsed. Somehow it made your skin crawl.

"You're too fucking pretty for your own good." He murmured to himself, bottoming out just to push himself all the way inside you - making you whine pathetically. You couldn't even think properly when he was making you feel so much. "Is that how you got that sponsorship, baby?" The man cooed at you, cupping your cheek - voice dropping dangerously. "Did you spread your legs for Mr. Smith like a nasty little whore? Hm? Is your dignity so cheap you're willing to do anything to climb the ladder now?"

He was rubbing his tip along your slit, teasing you in just the right way - but even the electric joints of pleasure weren't enough to numb the pain his words had caused you.

"What do you mean? I've never done anything like that!" You stated defensively, pushing at his chest - but he didn't bulge. "We've known each other since forever. You should know better to than to throw such baseless accusation. I'm capable - I'd never sink so low t–

He didn't wait for you to finish, driving into you with mad ferocity, eyes almost black now.

"I know. I know!" Your rival screamed as if possessed by a madman - then gripped your shoulders tightly, shaking you to your core. "But I don't need you to be capable. I don't need you to be smart or strong or ambitious." His nails were digging into your flesh, but you didn't dare complain. "I just need you to be mine."

You opened your mouth, ready to confront him - to ask him what the fuck was going on, whether this was even real, or just a cruel joke on his part. But you couldn't because in the next moment you felt his warm seed filling you up so deep it dripped down your thighs. You closed your eyes, terrified. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't be coming inside you when he knew fully well that you weren't on the pill. Fuck.

"All mine."

#yandere #yancore #yandere smut #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader

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heritageposts · 2 months

Text

[...] More specifically, the cycle of violence in The Last of Us Part II appears to be largely modeled after the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I suspect that some players, if they consciously clock the parallels at all, will think The Last of Us Part II is taking a balanced and fair perspective on that conflict, humanizing and exposing flaws in both sides of its in-game analogues. But as someone who grew up in Israel, I recognized a familiar, firmly Israeli way of seeing and explaining the conflict which tries to appear evenhanded and even enlightened, but in practice marginalizes Palestinian experience in a manner that perpetuates a horrific status quo. The game's co-director and co-writer Neil Druckmann, an Israeli who was born and raised in the [occupied] West Bank before his family moved to the U.S., told the Washington Post that the game's themes of revenge can be traced back to the 2000 killing of two Israeli soldiers by a mob in Ramallah. Some of the gruesome details of the incident were captured on video, which Druckmann viewed. In his interview, he recounted the anger and desire for vengeance he felt when he saw the video—and how he later reconsidered and regretted those impulses, saying they made him feel “gross and guilty.” But it gave him the kernel of a story. “I landed on this emotional idea of, can we, over the course of the game, make you feel this intense hate that is universal in the same way that unconditional love is universal?” Druckmann told the Post. “This hate that people feel has the same kind of universality. You hate someone so much that you want them to suffer in the way they’ve made someone you love suffer.” Druckmann drew parallels between The Last of Us and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict again on the official The Last of Us podcast. When discussing the first time Joel kills another man to protect his daughter and the extraordinary measures people will take to protect the ones they love, Druckmann said he follows "a lot of Israeli politics," and compared the incident to Israel's release of hundreds of Palestinians prisoners in exchange for the captured Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit in 2011. He said that his father thought that the exchange was overall bad for Israel, but that his father would release every prisoner in every prison to free his own son. "That's what this story is about, do the ends justify the means, and it's so much about perspective. If it was to save a strange kid maybe Joel would have made a very different decision, but when it was his tribe, his daughter, there was no question about what he was going to do," Druckmann said.

And continuing, on the security structures featured in the The Last of Us Part II:

Besides the familiar zombie fiction aesthetics of an overgrown and decomposing metropolis, The Last of Us Part II's main setting of Seattle is visually and functionally defined by a series of checkpoints, security walls, and barriers. There are many ways to build and depict structures that separate and keep people out. Just Google "U.S.-Mexico border wall" to see the variety of structures on the southern border of the United States alone. The Last of Us Part II's Seattle doesn't look like any of these. Instead, it looks almost exactly like the tall, precast concrete barriers and watch towers Israel started building through the West Bank in 2000.

Illustrations, from the article:

The first barrier Ellie and Dina encounter when arriving in Seattle / West Bank barrier.

. . . article continues on Vice (July 15 2020)

Backup -> archive.today link /archive.org link

#free palestine #palestine #israel #gaza #the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #zionism #i know this article has made the rounds here before but i wanted it archived in case vice goes down

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easy-there-leftovers · 8 months

Text

I See You, Darling

[Astarion x reader] The idea never left my mind, and I so very badly need this right now. Heavily inspired by this cutscene where Tav chooses a dialogue option and Astarion's eyes just deviate-- (gif above, just wait for his eyes to look at you WKDKWKDK) |Word count: 2k.| Based off of this post I made.

Part 2 here!!

Also, this is more heavy on the world building rather than dialogue. If I end up making this a series, I might write with more dialogue in mind but it was just necessary to do this first afhjaqfbnjkafbnebn--

A story in which an overworked art student longs for a fictional character that they've devoted so much of their time to.

Alternatively; Astarion realizes there's someone else watching him. And he can't wait to get acquainted with them.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

One.

Two.

Three.

It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine.

You’ll admit, perhaps you were simply tired. Attending a prestigious school for the arts doesn’t exactly leave you with much free time to indulge in more calming forms of recreation. Your course requires you to consume a wide array of media to expand your library of creativity, after all. All in the name of generating more interesting media to entrance and enthrall your audience with your original work.

Maybe all the moving pictures and swimming texts have caused you to greatly misunderstand what you are seeing. Surely, your favorite character isn’t looking directly at you, right?

Right?

But before that, let’s review what might have happened earlier to explain just what exactly in gods name is happening.

Shall we?

——

You purchased the game a few months back. “Baldur’s Gate 3.” A game that took the players and immersed them in the world of Dungeons & Dragons, introducing them to the mechanics of tabletop RPG as they did. It seemed interesting enough. And if the concept of character creation and storytelling didn’t sell you on the idea of it, the pretty faces on the cover certainly did.

So, with the little money you could spare from your part time job at your own institution’s library, and with what little sanity you had left to argue with, you impulsively bought said game. And it was fun. Exhilarating. Electrifying.

Until you ran into a problem.

Astarion. The rogue, elven vampire that you have chosen to romance after careful deliberation. You scoffed to yourself. He was one of the biggest reasons why you purchased the blasted game at all. You’ve carefully studied the character in all his glory, from his striking carmine eyes and delicate unstained curls, to his aptitude for bloodshed and all manners of gore. He was such an interesting character, giving you more and more reason to pursue him as the story progressed. Yet the same can’t be said about your relationship with him. Or at least your “Tav’s” relationship with him.

You’ve had some difficulty in deepening your relationship with the ex-magistrate. It seemed as if no matter what options you chose, no matter what manner of advances you made, he’d be quick to dismiss you. Painting you as a desperate little pup as he did. Denying you the opportunity of further knowing him. You’ve created and overwritten more save slots than you'd like to admit, perusing each one to select different lines of dialogue only to be rejected time and time again.

You thought it strange. But perhaps this was simply the way his route was meant to unfold. He was such an incredibly complex character after all. Perhaps this was meant to prove the party’s loyalty.

But that didn’t stop you from being frustrated with other aspects of the gameplay. You've spent countless nights hunched on your work chair, back curving like a dead bug as you analyzed each and every possible outcome in combat. Eyes, bloodshot from cutting your sleeping hours short, just to endure the story until you were at an appropriate place to log out. And hair, flicking and curling out in different directions due to you weaving your hands through them in exasperation.

You saw your reflection on your screen as it darkened to load the next scene and you couldn't help but stare at your character in slight envy. You know full well that however you designed them, it wouldn’t affect how the others perceived you, and yet you couldn’t help but pretty them up for your own interest. You designed it with yourself in mind, but making them far more attractive than you would ever be. Effortlessly beautiful as they stirred to wake up in the forest you settled in for camp.

How could Astarion ever turn this beautiful being away? If not for their heroism, then surely their looks would be enough to draw him in, no?

And speak of the devil. Once you could control your character again, you readied them to interact with your sharply dressed companion. Wanting to try your luck once more as the bright sun shone upon your character like a promise of a new day. Unfortunately, you’re greeted with a look of boredom, oh so familiar, that you sigh. “I hope you’re not here to beg—” Mocking him, echoing the words you’ve come to expect with faux mirth in your voice. But you cut yourself short when you realize he has yet to say anything.

Strange.

What’s even stranger is that he's just staring at you. Well,--- he’s staring at Tav. Your character.

“What the fuck…?” You move your mouse around, clicking to try and toggle the dialogue options to no avail, screen stuck in a cinematic close up of his face. Much like how the camera always pans when awaiting your response.

However, unlike the common script of his actions that you’re used to, the one that you’ve memorized like a well practiced dance, his eyes smoothly glide off of your character and onto you.

You freeze, but your heart doesn’t. The beating of your chest growing stronger the longer he looks at you. Eyes, blood red like rubies, boring into your own. He regards you, blinks, and then smiles that deviously charming smile of his before your screen turns dark. Your computer turns off, and you stare in shock of what just happened.

‘No fucking way, no fucking way, no fucking way—‘ You’re not delusional, right? Sure, you’re tired, but no fucking way did you just imagine one of the hottest characters you’ve seen in a while break the fourth wall just to fuck with you.

You laugh to yourself.

Yes, you’re just tired. Nothing like a good four hours of sleep can’t remedy. Although, as you get up from your chair, foolish as it may seem, you grab a used shirt from your floor, and hang it on your computer in the case that those piercing eyes come to life once again while you sleep.

——

You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you get ready for the day, you notice your dirtied clothing still on your computer. Covering it as if it were a petrifying doll from a horror movie. You feel childish for doing so, reasoning that you were simply stressed from the events that taken place prior and removed the cloth.

As you did, your screen was brought back to life. Showing you the next night as if your little "tryst" with Astarion never happened. An entire thirty minutes or so of progress seemingly gone. Thankfully, you saved just before your game went haywire and you attempted to load up your last slot.

Zzzt Zzzzt!

Alas, your game was not cooperating once again. You tried the save just before that and the same error screen presented itself to you. ‘Maybe this is a sign that I should just fucking work instead.’ Irritated at the thought, you moved to log out of the game but a familiar voice convinces you otherwise as the screen returns to normal.

“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?”

‘Is this— a romance scene?!’ Astarion had never initiated an interaction before! Perhaps the game gods were granting you mercy. Or maybe, something you did last night might have given way for this line of dialogue to open up. Regardless, you happily took the opportunity and began reading your choices.

“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” ━─━────༺༻────━─━

Well. Thank you.

It’s none of your concern, fangs.

Better now that you’re here.

What happened last night?

━─━────༺༻────━─━

What…did happen last night? You don’t recall anything past the blackening of your screen, but it looks like you did something after that which caused this dialogue.

You don’t want to squander this opportunity, who knows when this will happen again, but your curiosity gets the best of you. So you save, and choose option 4.

“Oh, you poor thing. Spooked you, did I?” He laughs, seemingly taking in the look of confusion that graces both yours and Tav’s face.

“What do you think happened last night?”

“My fucking game crashed.” You answer automatically.

Tav moves to open their mouth but is silenced with a tut. “Not you, spawn.” His eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement, but the way his mouth is pulled in a tightly-lipped smile offers you further insight otherwise.

“I need your answer.” His eyes are on you yet again, and you feel the world begin to spin.

——

You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you plan to get ready for the day, you notice you’re not exactly in a state to do so. You expected to wake at dawn, the dark and cool air to greet you as it fills your room and envelops your walls. Instead, you wake to see an endless amount of evergreen and the smell of the dark and damp grass beneath you filling your senses.

And if spending hours, weeks, months, of playing this damned game has taught you anything, you know that you now reside in the heart of the forest that you usually set up camp in. But this time, you're far from your bedroll and the fire that your party created.

One.

Two.

Three.

It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far to no avail. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine.

And this chill so does love playing games.

You clamber away on your knees when you hear that deep chuckle of his emanate from right beside your ear. Creating as much distance to inspect this figure you’ve yet to face.

You see Astarion in all his vampiric glory. ‘Well, for a vampire spawn, I guess.’ You comment to yourself. Crimson eyes, darker than you imagined, with full, dark lashes contrasting his pallid skin and pure hair that glow under the moonlight. An unsettling, and cursedly attractive, smirk curls onto his lips. His ivory fangs on full display as he does.

“It seems as if those useless artifacts were worth something.” He marvels at his handiwork, his prize, and approaches it with confidence.

“Well, your character certainly is more ‘prettied up.’” He circles you, carefully appraising his newest asset, and grins. “But you are far more intriguing.”

A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster.

“Although, you are very cute. Cheeky little pup, aren’t you?” He jests.

A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster which earns you a click of his tongue in response.

“You’re not broken, are you? Or am I to anticipate your little ‘what the fuck?’s as your only contribution?” Long, and incredibly masculine, fingers crawl and curl to grasp your chin like a spider.

“I’ve waited months to have you. And now here you are, finally within my grasp.” The statement causes something to stir within you.

“What do you mean, ‘months?”

He narrows his eyes, possibly trying to comprehend your stupidity.

“I’ve been watching you. Waiting, for the right moment. Interacting with this– caricature of yourself until you could deny yourself of me no more.” Blood rushes to your head. Your cheeks burning in embarrassment for seeming overly eager. And in panic as his intentions have yet to be cleared.

“And now that I’m here? Do you want to kill me?” You feel your heartbeat in your ears, awaiting his response. Your eyes wide in fear, yet trying to fake heroic bravado in the attempts to gain the upperhand.

And in this moment, he thinks you absolutely invigorating.

“Oh no, sweet pet. I’ve waited far too long for that. I’m going to make you mine.”

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Should I make this into a series? "The adventures of a misplaced artist in Baldur's Gate!!" Or something like that. Let me know, lol

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion x you #astarion x mc #aware!astarion #to be continued #or maybe not lol #I haven't written anything in so long #and for good reason #baldur's gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader

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lurochar · 5 days

Text

By the Full Moon

18+ MDNI

The Radio Demon finds a spell to go back in time to reacquaint himself with his wife. His past human self is more than willing to help.

Demon Alastor x Reader x Human Alastor

Warnings: Demon Alastor mainly referred to as Radio Demon to differentiate between human Alastor. Established relationship between Alastor and Reader. OOCness. PWP. Aphrodisiacs. Lame title. Basically pure indulgence here. I haven't written anything in a while and smut even longer, so I apologize if it's bad.

----

You were worried.

Truthly speaking, you had no reason to worry as Alastor was more than capable of taking care of himself and even more so since he had his hunting rifle with him and more than likely his hunting knife, but you just could not help yourself.

After all, that murderer now labeled the Bayou Butcher was still on the loose and law enforcement had no clue as to who the killer was.

It was a silly worry since Alastor was still on the property simply storing away his hunting rifle in the shed a little ways from the main house, but it seemed like he was taking far too long to do so.

You could not help but to pace near the front door, knowing that once Alastor finally came back, he would just give you his signature smile and laugh at your apprehension all while calming your nerves down with a single stroke down the side of your cheek with his thumb.

‘He’s fine.’ You thought, breathing in deeply as you attempted to calm your pacing. ‘There's no need to worry like this. He will be back any moment.’ You nodded your head with your thoughts, finally able to stop your body from your frantic movements.

And it was only a few minutes later that you heard the key to the front door being inserted before it swung open and you instantly perked up. “Alastor!” You called out to your husband in relief, quickly moving towards him, your mind registering the radio static in the air before your body did and you abruptly froze, watching stunned as not one, but a second figure entered the house.

“Darling! I apologize for taking so long!” Alastor opened his arms, wrapping them around you and observing you closely as you trembled like an adorable newborn fawn, just as he – they expected you would. “I didn’t expect to meet such fine company outside our humble little abode here! Such a riveting conversation we had!”

Red eyes stared hungrily into yours.

“I–” You stammered, shakily peering over Alastor’s broad shoulder to look at the… otherworldly being currently standing in you and your husband’s house. “W-what– w-who is that?” You could not help the tremble in your voice.

“Hmmm,” Alastor stroked your hair, seemingly trying to find the right words. “Funny enough, this gentleman’s name is also Alastor. Isn't that just a neat coincidence?”

“What?” You looked to Alastor weakly, knowing his name was not exactly the most common of names out there. “But that’s…”

“Do excuse my rude manners,” the ‘other’ Alastor suddenly spoke and his voice possessed the exact same tone, accent, and cadence as when your Alastor spoke on air on the radio, “but I simply had to stop when I noticed your lovely house, my dear! Why, it looks the exact same as the home I once owned many years ago! So I hope you don’t mind me dropping in unannounced like this.” He began to move closer and you shivered in your husband’s hold, “It’s a pleasure, quite the pleasure, my little Doe. I’m Alastor, the Radio Demon.”

What!?!?

“D-demon?” You swallowed thickly, tightening your grip in Alastor’s coat as you took in the ‘Radio Demon’s’ features. He certainly was not human, that was for sure and with those tall ears (and tiny antlers?), you almost wanted to say he was almost deer-like, but those utterly massive fangs, razor-sharp claws, and terrifying smile had you second guessing yourself.

“Remarkable, isn’t it?” Alastor murmured in your ear. “A demon straight from Hell, he says. Who would have thought Hell actually existed?” He chuckled, but you barely heard a word he said.

A demon.

A demon was standing in your house.

A demon named Alastor.

“W-wha…” You faltered, whimpering when the Radio Demon stepped in front of you and in your personal space before you could even respond. “W-what’s happening?”

“You have no idea, my darling Y/N, how long I’ve waited for this.” Demon Alastor’s tipped your face upwards with his deadly claws rather gently to get you to look at his face (and wow, was he ever so very tall), “How many decades it took for me to find a spell that could break the laws of time, just so I could see you again.”

Your mind was racing, but ultimately, could not keep up with the situation.

Decades? Spells? Laws of time? Demons? Hell?

What was all of this? Did you fall asleep waiting for Alastor to come back and were just having some bizarre dream?

“It's not a dream, my love.” Alastor seemed to know what you were thinking as he began to nuzzle the crook of your neck. “I didn't quite believe it either, but he knows things about me that none other could, including you.”

“T-Then you're saying–” You could not even finish your words and you jumped when the Radio Demon's claws tightened around your cheeks, not enough to cause pain but enough to get your immediate attention. “T-that you… you’re–!”

“Figured it out, my darling Doe?” The Radio Demon’s grin stretched inhumanly wide. “I'm sure you have, you always were quite clever, my dear, but in case you haven't…”

Your heart pounded.

“Yes, I am Alastor Hartfelt, your husband. A denizen of Hell for decades now, though I have done well if I do say so for myself. I am a Demon Overlord, the Radio Demon. The year, I believe, was 2024 when I last checked.”

2024?!?

Alastor whistled lowly from your shoulder as you gaped in disbelief at the Radio Demon in front of you.

Was he really saying that he came back in time by almost a century?!

How was any of this even possible?

“You shouldn't be this baffled, Darling.” Alastor spoke, moving from your shoulder to kiss your cheek. “I, too, would do anything to find my way back to you, even break the laws of time and space. So why wouldn't my future dead self do the same?”

Wait.

“Am I not there with you?”

The Radio Demon chuckled, his hand now affectionately caressing the side of your face. “Perhaps you missed the part about my being in Hell?” His hand slowly slid down your body to your hip, causing you to shiver. “My darling Doe, you do not reside in Hell and have no place in it.”

A sudden surge of bravery rushed through you. “Then why are you there? You're a good man, Alastor! A perfect husband! Why would you get sent to… to Hell?!”

Alastor tightened his arms around you from behind and the Radio Demon squeezed down on your hip at the question.

“The spell will only last for the night as long as the moon is full on Earth.” The Radio Demon’s smile looked tense and his fangs were gritting. “I would much prefer getting reacquainted with my lovely wife than with frivolous chatter.”

And even if he did answer, he did not intend to leave your memories of this night intact.

This was not his preferred method, but he knew his Y/N would not let the topic of either Alastor’s fate go, so there was no other choice lest he allow the night waste away.

Alastor caught the eye of his past human self and nodded, having discussed this back at the shed where they had met as a possible option should it need to be one.

It was crude and vulgar, but Alastor was desperate with the need to touch your flesh once more and if he had to kick start things with a light aphrodisiac (one not made by the Vees), he would.

Your Alastor slowly reached into his pocket, slipping out a vial of clear liquid. He carefully uncapped it while you trembled against him, repeating your question in apparent shock at the knowledge that your husband was destined for Hell.

“Ma chérie.” Your Alastor turned you to face him before he downed the contents of the vial and immediately kissed you after. He glanced up to see his demon self step up behind you, caging you in between them so you could not back away from his kiss.

You let out a strange noise, feeling Alastor's tongue swipe in your mouth as you unconsciously opened your lips for him and a sweet liquid seeped in that you had no choice but to swallow.

Oh.

You were suddenly warm.

Your body was hot.

Your nerves felt like they were on fire.

“W-w-what’s this?” You babbled, completely forgetting about Hell as you began to ache between your legs, “H-hah…”

“It’s alright, Darling.” Alastor was quick to come to your comfort, rubbing your shoulders and even that innocent touch sent sparks of pleasure straight down to your core. “Just let it happen and everything will be fine.”

“I must admit, it is not my proudest idea.” The Radio Demon seemed to sigh from behind you, his large claw-tipped hands back firmly on your hips. “Surely you understand, my little Doe, that it needed to be done. You were much too tense and I only have hours to spare.”

Your head was fuzzy and you honestly did not understand a damn word of what either Alastor was saying.

You just wanted relief and the ache to leave.

“Don't worry your pretty little head about anything right now.” Alastor cooed, “I would take care of you, but I'm sure our guest here has been waiting for so very long now.” He smirked. “I'll join in a little later.”

“I can smell you, my dear.” The Radio Demon purred, his hands moving from your hips as he ran a single claw up the side of your dress, ripping through it with ease and you could not find it in yourself to care about the ruined dress at the moment. “You're dripping. Naughty girl.”

Had you been in your right mind, you would have been completely embarrassed by such a thing, and you let out a pathetic little whine when the Radio Demon began to kneel in front of you, with his massive hands gripping your soft inner thighs.

Your underwear was ripped off a second later and you did not see the Radio Demon pocketing the arousal-soaked cloth before he turned back to you.

“Ah, it's been decades since I've eaten one in this way.” The Radio Demon hummed, releasing one thigh to slowly slide his hand up to your leaking core. He found your clit with ease, slowly rubbing circles with the pad of his thumb, extremely mindful of his claw, “Though, of course, you are the only one I have done such things with.”

You cried out at the touch, feeling like a jolt of electricity had just run through you. “P-please!” You sniffled, unsure what to call this being - Alastor or Radio Demon?

The Radio Demon grinned up at you and you were too lost in arousal to flinch back at the sight of those fangs, “Please what, my little fawn? Use your words.”

“Eat me.”

The Radio Demon groaned. “You know me too well without even seeing the entire picture.” He surged forward, abandoning your clit momentarily to part your folds before taking in a deep intoxicated breath.

You bit down on your hand, trying to keep your yelps and moans down as the Radio Demon shoved his face in your pussy, his rather long tongue fucking up into your soaked hole as his nose rubbed against your clit, sparking pleasureable warmth throughout your lower half.

“Now, now. None of that.” Alastor came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and gently pulling your hand away from your mouth. “I– we both want to hear you.”

The Radio Demon crooned, pressing his face closer, feeling his wife tremble against him, “That's it. Cum on my tongue. I would like to get to the main course as quickly as possible.”

You shook, feeling Alastor's hands cup your breasts, pinching and rubbing your nipples as he nibbled on the lobe of your ear while the Radio Demon slurped your slick and suckled your sensitive nub.

A strangled sound left you when one of Alastor’s hands trailed down your side, sliding down your stomach before he slid a finger into your soaking cunt, bending his finger just so he would hit that spot that had you seeing stars and cumming far too early to be normal after a few more jabs to that spot.

The Radio Demon eagerly lapped up your gush of slick, not stopping even as you began to shudder from overstimulation.

“Does it feel good, chérie?” Alastor asked with a flush rising on his own face as his wife writhed in his hold while the Radio Demon did not relent in his own assault. He humped up against you, reaching down to his belt and zipper to free his aching cock.

“S'good.” You slurred, panting when you felt Alastor slide in another finger, scissoring them to stretch you. “Alastor.” You sighed, leaning against him as you reached down.

“You needn't worry about me.” Alastor inhaled sharply once you wrapped your soft hands around his length. “Darling, this is about you.”

“I want you.” You moaned, your fingers fondling the head of his cock, spreading his precum down the length of his shaft. “I-if he really is you,” it took everything out of you just to string a coherent sentence together, “I want you both.”

“You heard our darling little Doe.” The Radio Demon finally pulled away from your cunt as he eyed his past mortal self, “As much as I hunger to do so, I cannot prepare Y/N properly without the potential of injury.”

Just a glance towards those sharp claws was an answer enough.

Alastor wasted no time and pushed in a third finger, jamming them against that sweet spot of yours and you cried out, no longer able to focus on your husband’s pleasure, though he did not mind at all.

“What a face you’re making, Darling,” he murmured into your ear, “Not a single thought in your head, is there? Are you drooling on yourself?” His eyes darkened as his sadistic side began to show and, finally, he was able to slide in a fourth finger, “Do you know how fucked out you look right now? If that wasn’t me in front of you, I would have had to kill him for seeing you like this.”

It was fine, saying such things as you were not coherent enough to even understand him right now and the Radio Demon would take your memories of this night away anyway.

“Four fingers? My my, how debauched you are, my sweet Doe.” The Radio Demon was at your other ear, whispering just as filthy things as Alastor was, “You can take it, can’t you? You are my– our wife, after all. All you need to do is let go and cum on your husband’s fingers and then you can have all the cock you want, for the rest of the night.” He reached down, finding your clit and only needing to stroke the bud twice before you reached your high.

Your mouth could not even form words as your wet slick pussy contracted rhythmically around Alastor’s fingers, trying to milk them as you blacked out for the briefest of moments. Your limbs were like jelly and the only reason you did not collapse was because Alastor had propped you against his body.

“Still in there, my love?” Alastor patted your sweaty face, smiling when your glazed eyes fluttered open and you whimpered when he slowly pulled his fingers from your sopping hole, “You’ve done wonderfully thus far.”

“I–” It took so much just to think, “I want to–to…” Why couldn’t you think of the words to say? Your body was still burning even after cumming twice and that felt a bit frightening to you.

“As I said, you don’t need to worry about me. I have you to myself every night.” Alastor repeated, glancing over your head, allowing a lazy smirk to appear on his face, “But if you really want to repay the favour, I’m sure our guest would be delighted.” He just shrugged when the Radio Demon narrowed his red eyes at him.

You turned your head and peered timidly at the Radio Demon. The static in the air seemed to grow louder the longer you stared and his smile only seemed to stretch even wider.

“I'll even help you.” Alastor wrapped an arm around your waist and slung your arm around his shoulders, making sure you were steady, even as your legs shook like a newborn fawn’s as he guided you to stand in front of the Radio Demon.“Here you are.” He was quick to remove his overcoat, placing it on the floor for the comfort of his dear wife’s knees.

“This is unnecessary.” The Radio Demon stated, though the changes to his body said differently – his sclera turning pitch black, his antlers quickly extending outwards. He had to forcibly stop his body from growing larger, knowing his wife's human body would not be able to take anymore than what he was now.

“Please.” You kneeled in front of the Radio Demon, still a bit wary of him, but the aphrodisiac still running through you won over anything else, “You… you're still my Alastor, right?” Your hands shook as you attempted to loosen the belt of the Radio Demon.

“Yes, in life and in death. I am always yours.” The Radio Demon's usual filtered tone disappeared for a moment as he ripped off his belt with ease and he pulled his pants down low enough that his cock could spring free.

You leaned into him, feeling his hands run through your hair in a gentle gesture before they were gone from your head. You straightened on your knees, reaching up and feeling yourself jump a little in shock the moment you realized you couldn't fully wrap your hand around the Radio Demon's cock.

Was everything that much bigger when one was sent to Hell?

“Think nothing of it, my little Doe.” The Radio Demon cooed down at you, “I am completely content if you only wish to suck on my cock - the part that fits in your sweet little mouth, that is. I will not fuck your throat.”

The dull ache between your legs seemed to roar back to life at his words and you moved forward, opening your mouth, feeling the Radio Demon step a little closer until the head of his cock was resting on your tongue.

Your lips closed around his glans, your tongue prodded at the slit and you heard the Radio Demon growl as the static grew louder. Your head moved forward, wondering how much you could fit in your mouth before you started gagging.

“No, no.” Large hands on each side of your head stopped you from going further, “Do not test my self control, my dear. I said you may only suck. You are much too fragile for me to fuck that delicate throat of yours.”

You look up at the Radio Demon, barely noticing in your lustful haze that his pupils have shifted into a shape that resembled radio dials as you tightened your lips around the impressive cock in your mouth and sucked hard.

It was utterly obscene and Alastor watched with fascination as large amounts of saliva seeped from the crevices from your lips to drool down all over the Radio Demon's shaft, your jaw and chin, only to land on your chest in sticky globs. The static from the Radio Demon could not drown out the sloppy wet slurps of your tongue.

“That's it. Thaaaat's it.” The Radio Demon purred, “Such a lovely wife I have, so willing to suck the cock of her demon husband. Even wanting me to fuck my cock down her throat. How filthy! Are you truly that desperate for my seed? Suck harder, my dear.”

You tried, tightening your lips, hollowing your cheeks and sucking as best as you could until your jaw ached. You wanted to bob your head to make it a little easier, but the Radio Demon’s hands made it impossible to move. You began to hum, hoping the vibrations would aid you in getting him off.

“My sweet fawn. So depraved, just for me. Salivating all over yourself like a dog to please me.” One of his hands moved down to stroke at your cheek. “You are doing exceptionally well, such a good girl for me. Keep your mouth open.”

Your face burned at the Radio Demon’s words as you gasped for air when he pulled back from you, though you kept your mouth slack as he asked and found yourself shuddering when thick loads of cum landed on your tongue and didn’t seem to stop.

The Radio Demon watched with greedy eyes as you struggled with the volume of his seed, having to swallow a few times over and even then, remnants dripped off your lips towards your chest, “I should punish you for wasting a part of me that no other will ever have, my dear, but there is no time for that this night.” His grin widened, “Perhaps, should the spell work on the next full moon…” He tucked himself back into his pants, though didn't bother zipping them back up.

“I admit I never thought I would witness such a sight.” Alastor stepped forward from his position of observation, kneeling down as he reached for his handkerchief from his pocket and began to gently wipe your face from the cum and drool. “I certainly was not opposed to it.” He said quickly to reassure you when your eyes seemed to widen.

The Radio Demon did mention that the aphrodisiac would wear off once you took semen in your body. How fast it would diminish depended on how much semen you took in, in a certain amount of time.

“While I’m sure our guest appreciated the appetizers, I’m sure he is starved for the main course.” Alastor uncaringly tossed the dirtied handkerchief to the floor, helping you stand. “We would be such rude hosts to make him wait any longer.”

“I– of course.” You replied, looking towards the Radio Demon with a little less hesitancy than before, “You know where our… our bedroom is?” You asked almost shyly.

“I remember every single detail of this house as if I lived in it just yesterday,” The Radio Demon’s smile softened for a split second before it sharpened once more and he offered you his hand, “Shall we, then? You may want to close your eyes for this.”

You took it reluctantly, unsure what he meant by that last statement. You felt Alastor rub your back as he nestled you up to his side and you let out a shocked gasp as you all seemed to sink down in the floor into a void of black before emerging only a moment later right in front of your bed, “W-what was that!?” Your nerves weren’t burning as hot as they were earlier, but that strange sensation certainly was not helping your dizzied mind.

“Fascinating.” Alastor simply said under his breath.

“Instant shadow travel.” The Radio Demon answered nonchalantly, “It really is nothing to be impressed by.” He turned back to you, not wanting you to get distracted now that your mind was a bit clearer, “Darling Y/N, why don’t I show you how much I truly missed you over the decades?”

Your eyes unconsciously teared up at that.

The Radio Demon stalked forward, forcing you backward until your back hit the mattress. He took in the lovely sight of his wife spread on what used to be his bed before he was caging you in with his much larger body, “Every single night, whether or not I sleep, I think of you, dream of you. How exasperating that I still pine for you even after all these years, but I suppose you were the only one I felt any affection for – l̵̨͔̗̩̯̮͔̜̋̎́̃̐ͩ̓ͦo̿͂v̸̷̳̬̭̝͔͍͙͈̇̌̈́͟e̞̰̩̋̂̚͝ even – after Mother died.”

He could confess this much, as you would not remember this when it was time for him to leave.

“So you really are me.” Alastor murmured from the side of the bed, slowly undoing his tie, “That’s right. Y/N was there from the start – what do the masses call it, childhood lovers or such nonsense? It was only Y/N. None other would do.” He almost scoffed at his next thought. “Maybe soulmates do exist after all.”

“If you really are Alastor,” your arms rose and you placed your hands on both sides of his face and his entire expression softened and his smile wobbled, “then I'm so sorry that I'm causing you any pain.” A tear slid down your face from your already watery eyes. “I'm sure there are many…uhh, demons who are interes–” A claw-tipped finger pressed against your lips, cutting you off from what you were about to say.

“Even parted, what remains of my cold dead heart still beats for you, my lovely wife. I will never stray.” The Radio Demon leaned down to lick the tear from your cheek, causing you to shudder.

“Even if we wanted to fool around,” Alastor was now unbuttoning his shirt, taking his time to undress, “which, Darling, I can assure you, we do not, our bodies are simply not interested in any other. Woman, man – it doesn't matter how attractive they may be, if it's not you, I cannot get aroused. I'm sure it's the same for our guest.”

You felt your face flush and wanted to hide from the embarrassingly sweet words, but you were trapped under the Radio Demon, who was staring down intently at your reaction.

“You know I love you, Alastor! I have since we were children!” You tried to cover your face, but the Radio Demon grasped your wrists before you could.

He settled more on top of you, aligning your lower bits as he ground his clothed erection against your slick sensitive skin. “Say it again.” He groaned, “Say it.”

The static was almost deafening now.

“Best do what he asks, Darling.” Alastor was now removing his pants, having moved to the top of the bed so he could observe his wife's expression. “I'll never tire of hearing it either.”

“I love you, Alastor. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you!” Your face was burning red as the Radio Demon reached down to fish his cock free from his unzipped pants, “Not even death can do us part!”

That had been the one line you and Alastor had changed at your wedding, but…

“You don't belong in Hell, my sweet fawn.” The Radio Demon grasped your hip and gripped the base of his cock, your legs spreading as he rubbed his shaft through your creamy folds, causing you to shiver and moan, “While I may crave your presence every day, I prefer to know that you are safe where you belong.”

Your head tossed to the side as the Radio Demon slowly began to penetrate you and your eyes opened in surprise when you felt lips pressing against yours. “Alastor?” You panted, feeling your silky walls being stretched more than they ever have before. He was bigger than anything you had ever taken before.

“You will adjust in a few moments, ma cher. It won't hurt or feel uncomfortable for much longer.” Alastor stated, staring at the scene in front of him and feeling a heat settle deep under his stomach.

He wanted to join, but he did not want to push his dear wife any further than you were comfortable with. Plus, you and he had never ventured to that area before either.

The Radio Demon’s eyes glanced up at Alastor for a brief moment before setting down back onto you as he finally slid in all the way to the hilt, “Fuck, I haven't even moved yet and you're already clenching down on me so tightly.”

“S'big!” You almost felt like you were being split in two and you whined when the Radio Demon slowly withdrew, caressing every sensitive spot before he swiftly thrust back in, “HAH!” You were seeing stars as he found a rhythm, “S'good!”

Alastor watched with slight envy, but it quickly changed to confusion when the Radio Demon gave him some sort of look before focusing back on you.

Was he supposed to know what that meant?

It was only a few seconds later that a long black tentacle-like appendage snapped out of the Radio Demon's back and Alastor found himself surprised for the nth time that night, even by this point, he shouldn't be.

It seemed that you were already too fucked out again to notice the extra appendage as the Radio Demon flipped you over to your stomach, positioning you on all fours as he maneuvered over top of you, pressing his chest to your back as his hips thrust blindly, seeking your warm wet hole.

He used the lone tentacle (that you still have yet to notice, but you would very shortly) to wrap around his length, guiding it back to your slick cunt. He growled, loud static popping in the air, drool dripping off his fangs as he humped you like the deer he resembled.

You are so lost in pleasure, gasping and wheezing, that it takes a few moments for you to realize that there's something prodding you back there, “W-wha?” You swallow thickly, feeling something cool circle and lightly push at your other hole, causing you to flinch, “W-what is that? Alastor?” You whimper.

It took a second for the Radio Demon to come to his senses, especially when you were squeezing down so tightly on his cock. “My little Doe, it must be done if you wish to take both of us. Surely you want that. It's not often one can fuck two forms of their spouse at the same time.” The tentacle began to breach the rim of your second hole and you let out pained noise.

Alastor moved on the bed, stroking your hair and kissing your temple, “I know, Darling, I know.” He reached underneath you when the Radio Demon resumed his crude humping, finding your clit with a bit of difficulty due to the constant rocking. “If you truly do need to stop, say ‘jambalaya’ and we will.”

This was for Alastor and a few minutes of total discomfort should not stop you.

“How's it feel?” Alastor asked, curious as he had never touched that area before.

“H-hah,” you felt sweat drip down your face, trying to answer your husband’s question, but the sensations of the Radio Demon's cock hitting every sensitive spot in your sloppy cunt, Alastor’s fingers strumming along your puffy clit, and the slippery tentacle now an inch or two in, squirming against the walls of your ass?

You crumbled.

“Fuck!” The Radio Demon snarled, halting his movements as he felt you cumming hard around him. His ears twitched at the sound of your wailing and he summoned another tentacle out of his back, using it to hold your shaking body up against his as he clenched his hands in the sheets below, claws easily ripping through the material.

As he completely avoided any sexual activity during his time in Hell, the Radio Demon found he was a lot more sensitive than he recalled and simply having you suck him for a few moments and cumming once on his cock was enough for him to lose it.

It took all of his self control to not finish so early as he focused on his tentacles and stretching your other hole slowly but surely.

Alastor watched with exhilaration that he only experienced when he was pounding you into the bed, or watching the life fade out of the eyes out of some degenerate after hunting them down, and after your keening quieted down, he found himself surprised that he was stroking himself, something he never partook in.

“Do you think you are able to take me, my love?” Alastor asked after a moment of allowing you to catch your breath, though you still looked a little out of it, still caged under the Radio Demon’s much larger body – looking helpless, small, and stuffed full of cock.

He needed to stuff you with more.

“I… I think? Maybe?” You lifted your head to look at Alastor, watching him smile at you and you bit your lip when you felt that strange appendage slowly pull out of your ass and you grimaced at the sudden feeling of emptiness?

The Radio Demon squeezed your hips and also pulled out of you, sitting you on the bed as he snapped his fingers and you jumped, feeling your body tingle for a second before it disappeared and you felt strangely lighter, “W-what was that?” You asked as he snapped his fingers again and a small bottle appeared in his hand out of nowhere

“I cleansed you,” The Radio Demon simply stated, not wanting to get into the finer details of anal sex and embarrass you, “You will need this, my dear. Use as much as you need.” He handed his past self the bottle and eyed him expectantly.

“Extra lubrication.” Alastor said, snapping the lid open and squeezing it out on his fingers, rubbing them together experimentally, “It’s needed so I don’t, well… tear anything.” He grasped your hand, unfolding it. “Aid me, won’t you, Darling?” His voice grew a little sultry as he squeezed the lube out on your hand.

You flushed, reaching down as your hand wrapped around Alastor’s cock, trying to spread the lube evenly as you jerked his shaft, causing him to sigh with contentment, feeling your hand glide smoothly, “I believe that’s enough. Your turn. Turn around for me and either lie down on your stomach or get on all fours – whichever is more comfortable for you.”

You say Alastor’s eyes flash and knew what position he would prefer, but despite your embarrassment, you got on all fours like you knew he wanted and you spread your legs as much as you could.

“Bear with it.” Alastor felt his heart race as your head lowered when he squeezed the lube out and you shivered when you felt his slick fingers begin to prod at your ass, passing the tight rim after a few nudging of his fingers.

It still felt strange, but Alastor tried to make up for it with slow firm thrusts and filthy words.

“Darling, I know you will feel so good squeezed around me. I never imagined you would be so receptive to the idea. I can’t wait to see what sort of face you will make this time for me. Taking both of our cocks at once, perhaps you will cum so hard, you will soak the sheets? Forget your own name?”

You whined, feeling your face flame.

“I have done what I can to prepare you.” Alastor removed his fingers from your back hole, “Now go over to our guest. I believe you will have to ride him in order for this to work.”

The Radio Demon's smile seemed to twitch at Alastor's remark, but he did lean back and prop himself against the pillows so you were able to straddle him – which you only did so after a pause from you and a nod from him.

“Not yet, my dear, though I appreciate the enthusiasm.” The Radio Demon chuckled, stopping you from gripping him and just sliding down his cock, “It's best for my past self to go first.”

Alastor moved over to you, stroking your back in a soothing manner, “Remember what to say if you want to stop.” He said with a slight frown and it lifted when you repeated ‘jambalaya’ back to him, “I'll go slow.” He gripped himself, watching as the Radio Demon oh-so kindly spread you (and you letting out a cute squeak) and he lowered himself until he felt skin on skin.

You tensed, trying best to calm down when felt the head of his cock prod at your ass, just resting there until you relaxed enough that he could press forward. “Haahhmmm.” Strange noises escaped you as Alastor slowly proceeded, stopped, rocked back and forth a few times, before repeating.

“My little Doe, breathe.” The Radio Demon trailed his hands down your sides, moving towards your dripping core to find your aching clit to help alleviate any discomfort with pleasure, “It won't be long now, my dear. You will be, as an effeminate fellow acquaintance of mine likes to say, ‘cockdrunk’ soon enough.”

You groaned, not only from the Radio Demon's words, but from feeling full. Yet you felt empty at the same time as your pussy clenched nothing but air.

Arms wrapped around you from behind as Alastor buried his head in your shoulder, breathing hard while sweat dripped off his face. “Shit.”

You were so fucking tight – to the point he ridiculously feared you might squeeze his cock right off.

“Prepare yourself.” The Radio Demon purred, lining his length up with your dripping cunt, “Or perhaps you needn't to. There won't be a single thought in that pretty little head of yours.” And with that, he thrust in carefully, knowing he and his past self had to find a rhythm that would not cause their wife any pain.

“A-Al–” You mewled, feeling tears forming in the corners of your eyes, “A-Ala–” You couldn't even talk straight anymore.

Alastor grit his teeth, thrusting in when the Radio Demon pulled back. His wife was tight, hot, and he could feel the Radio Demon through the thin membrane.

He wasn't going to last long.

“Such a perverse wife I have! Tell me, how does fucking two cocks at once feel?” The Radio Demon's smile turned sadistic, seeing that you couldn't even comprehend his question and his hand came up to wipe the drool seeping from your mouth and watched with satisfaction as your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he began circling your clit, “Are you going to cum, my dear? Should I allow it?”

You babbled nonsense, not hearing a word anyone was saying as you were sandwiched between your present husband and his future demon self and only able to focus on the molten heat in your core.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Both were big (though the Radio Demon was bigger in that department), so with every thrust, they hit every spot that brought stars to your closed eyes.

Someone was rubbing circles on your slick clit and the other was fondling your breasts. Teeth nibbled at the lobe of your ear and sharp fangs and a long tongue were dragging along your skin dangerously close towards your throat.

It was the hand that pressed down hard on your pelvis that had you come undone.

Were you screaming? You didn't know as the world blurred and you could feel nothing but ecstasy shoot through every part of your trembling body and the afterpangs were just as pleasant to feel as you slumped down, barely even conscious after the many orgasms you had experienced that night.

“Fuck!” The Radio Demon knew he would not be able to stave off this as your vevelty walls clamped down on his cock and he looked down in shock, unconsciously licking his lips when he noticed you were squirting all over him.

This sight alone had him shooting spurt after spurt of ejaculate into your gushing pussy.

Alastor simply observed all this happen, having pulled halfway out of your ass so he could wrap his hand around the base of his cock to delay his orgasm, though he no longer needed to.

He released his hand, thrusting forward as deep he could go in your ass. He was already on the edge, waiting to tip over and just the tightness of your anal walls squeezing him was enough to send him over, shooting his load of cum into you with a satisfied groan.

Both you and Alastor collapsed on the bed as the Radio Demon shifted so there was more room, though after a brief moment of silence other than heavy breathing, both males looked towards you as they grudgingly pulled out of you, eyeing the leaking mess they made of you with fervor.

You only had so much stamina however.

And–

“You did so well, my love.” Alastor brushed your hair from your face, kissing your temple when you attempted to focus your glazed eyes towards him, “Only you could satisfy us so.” He lightly pinched your cheek to keep you awake when they began fluttering.

A glass of water appeared in the Radio Demon’s hand as he sat up, propping your back up against his chest as he brought the glass up to your lips and tilted your head up, “Don’t drink it too fast, my dear.” He instructed, appeased when you slowly swallowed the water down and he vanished the glass, relishing the feel of your skin against his.

It was time for him to leave.

“My sweet wife, it took me decades to find the spell so I could see you again,” the Radio Demon stated and he felt you stiffen against him, “I am uncertain if it will work again or if this was a one time occurrence, but know that this night was to my utmost delight. I must say, simply seeing your lovely face satisfied me as much as–m̨̻̪̣̹̙̰̦͇̏͒̅͒ͪ͝ơ̧̛̛̗͍̝̣̜̺͉̜̜̩̥̈́̋ͫ̌̽͐̅̔̍̋́́̏̇ͧ̀͘͘̚͜͜͢͝ŕ̛̝̺̖̬̰ͫͨ̆͌͛̾ͭ̈̾̉̌ͯ͞e̸̙͕̯̻̘͈̋ͩ̑ͦ́͟ ţ̶̟̯̻̘͍͓̯̈̂h̿ͮ͘a̶̸̲̣͖̻̦̜ͯ̉͌ͣ͂̈́͞n͙̳̍ͫ–the screams of the souls I rip apart on my broadcasts all over Hell!”

What?

“You’re leaving?” The Radio Demon’s words snapped you to attention in more than one way, but you put those rather disturbing words aside for that moment to focus on his departure.

Your mind was clear and your body was no longer burning and you should be honestly terrified that there was a demon from Hell wrapped around you now that you could think straight, but he was still your husband.

He was still Alastor.

“Regretfully so.” The Radio Demon gently removed you from himself, standing from the bed as you stared at him with those wide eyes of yours. He snapped his fingers, fixing his appearance to his usual pristine condition and dressing you and Alastor with a second snap, causing you and his past self to jump in shock to his amusement.

“But…” You bit your lip, feeling it wobble as you looked between the Radio Demon and Alastor, “Why… why are you in Hell? You never told me.” Your voice started to crack.

Alastor clenched his fists and looked away from you and the Radio Demon’s static grew louder at the question, “I am certain you will find out the reason why in the future.” After all, he did leave you a widow after his unexpected and pathetic death and it most certainly got out how he brutally murdered and engaged in occasional cannibalism – he just had no idea how you felt about him after that all came to be.

Did you still love him afterwards as you lived the rest of your mortal life?

Did you still love him in Heaven as an angel?

“I told you, Alastor,” you seemed to notice the tone in the Radio Demon’s filtered voice, “I love you, since we were children. Not even death can do us part.”

Alastor inhaled sharply and the Radio Demon eyed him for a second before turning back to you, “If this spell does not work for the next full moon on Earth, I must bid you adieu.” He moved forward, bending down to press a kiss against your forehead.

There was a flash of green light and you fell forward, unconscious and memories of the night gone.

The Radio Demon caught you, stroking your side before placing you on the bed and turned to his past self, his smile tightening.

“Well, what an interesting night this has been!” Alastor tilted his head, appearing thoughtful, “I admit I never believed in Heaven or Hell, but clearly I was wrong about that. Good to know that Mother is where she belongs and that I will kill that wretch of man all over again.”

“His screams of agony were most entertaining. Why, I could listen to them over and over again and never tire of them!” The Radio Demon let out a puff of amusement, fondly remembering torturing the man whom he once had to call ‘father’.

“I suppose if that spell of yours works again, you’ll be a familiar face here every full moon?” Alastor asked casually, “I’m not opposed.”

The Radio Demon held out his hand, much to Alastor’s surprise, “Yes, I would. Just a friendly shake, no deal here. I don’t think I can take my own soul.”

Alastor took the Radio Demon’s hand after a moment of hesitation, shaking it firmly before his eyes widened as the same green light flashed and, he too, fell forward, unconscious with his memories of the night gone.

“I can’t have you dragging our lovely wife into your depraved acts now. I saw how Y/N’s words affected you.” The Radio Demon placed his past self on the bed beside you, staring at the couple, “Our darling Doe doesn’t belong in Hell. I would like to keep it that way.”

He vanished with the moonlight.

#alastor x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel x reader #radio demon x reader #human alastor x reader #x reader

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