#and kinda hard to follow near the end | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luvrxbunny · 6 months

Text

little spider

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Innocence

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader knows nothing about sex or feelings of arousal, clothed clit-rubbing? cum in pants, small feelings of embarrassment (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.3k

A/N: sorry im late but im kinda proud of this one so i hope it was worth the wait! <3

Miguel didn’t think he’d end up in this position, nowhere in his wildest, most perverted fantasies did he think that this would actually be the outcome of him recruiting you but… here we are.

You were assigned by the higher-ups to learn from him, they thought you had potential, and honestly? Miguel hated you when he met you, he felt like they were punishing him for something, that assigning him this raw recruit was just a flaunt of power. You didn't even have a suit he had to make you one, a trial suit first, to make sure all your vitals were good, to track your movements and decide what suit material would be best- or if you would have a digital one like him.

During the weeks of his monitoring of your vitals, he began to grow a bit fond of you. You were an adorable recruit and eager to please, you were thoughtful and always gave your all, something he really appreciates. One other thing he noticed about you… your dopamine levels were elevated around him, along with your estradiol and testosterone. He ignores it when he’s writing his reports, he tells himself that he doesn’t report it because the higher-ups don't need to know, not because he knows they’d make you transfer… He should’ve requested it the first time he noticed it but the thought of you, his sweet, innocent spider, all turned on just from being around him? It ignited something in him.

He updated your suit, saying that the data he was receiving wasn't enough, he made you wear the suit as he replaced the chip and tried to hide the smile in his voice when your spine straightened under his touch. The new chip could give him real-time tracking of all your vitals, but he set his watch to alert him anytime certain hormones spiked… estradiol and testosterone. So he conducted a little experiment over the following weeks, he’d lean into you more when you speak, holding your eye contact, he even broke out the smirk he used to use on girls when he was younger, and it worked on you.

His watch vibrated every time he was near you, if he walked up to you, it started being an alert to when you were near, it’d go off before you’ve even approached him, he’d walk into a room and it’d go off before he even saw you. It started to have an effect on him, he started to feel a spark in his stomach every time it went off, every time he’d meet your eyes and you’d have that expression he’d grown to know so well. That weak, almost pleading- yet confused look in your eyes and the sheer panic before tearing them away from his. He started having to grip whatever was in his hands as tightly as he could to control himself when you’re breathing would stutter after he complimented you on your work.

He started getting hard reviewing your logs after spending the day with you, watching your heart rate stay elevated, spiking along with your hormones, he can see your breathing pattern, and how irregular it is compared to when you’re not with him. How high your body temperature was… the main areas of heat. On his more weak days, he’s gotten himself off to the diagram of you, with the burning red spot between your legs as the focus of his fantasies.

Now you’re here, avoiding his gaze as his watch vibrates like crazy. “Miguel?” He looks at you again, trying to keep his gaze neutral, hopefully, to make this a bit easier on you… and him. “Yes?”

His voice is smooth as cocoa butter and you can feel his gaze burning into you. He started this heat inside you, one you’d never encountered before. It starts when you see him in the morning and doesn’t stop until you struggle to sleep- or at least it used to. But recently it’s been non-stop, a constant distraction that you can’t pinpoint, it feels like it’s in your hips, stomach, chest, and thighs all at once. It feels like it’s in his breath when it fans over your face, it's in his eyes when they lock with yours, and somehow on his fingertips when they brush over any part of you. You’ve spent hours a night trying to figure out what you can do about it, you’ve thought about even asking Lyla but decided the risk of her telling Miguel was far too great.

This past week it’s just been building on it’s self, almost unbearable with Miguel’s new immersive training. He takes you away to some deserted, closed-off place and trains you with no distractions, giving you nothing to focus on other than him and forcing him to give all his attention to you. Miguel’s attention, his gaze is what causes the most… pain. That’s what it’s become, a dull, numb, thrumming at the base of your stomach, like an itch you can’t scratch that just becomes a nuisance. You couldn’t handle it anymore and if you asked Lyla she’d just tell Miguel- so why not just ask him directly?

So here you are, avoiding his gaze because you’ve spent the entire day with him, building enough fire inside you- you don’t need to add any more. “I think…” You take a breath and turn to him a bit before forcing the words out. “There’s something wrong with me.” He puts his clipboard down, his concern, and his thick, veiny hand that comes into view piles onto the heat over-taking your bloodstream. He takes his glasses off and sits back in his chair, reaching his leg out to pull a chair beside you closer to him. You dare a glance at him and try not to collapse at his gaze, at the way his hair moves over his face for a moment as he motions for you to sit in the provided chair.

You sigh and sit down, your legs pressed tightly together, your palms resting on your thighs and your eyes focused on the back of your hands. You stay silent, your mind racing, your body warming further at the feeling of his eyes on you. “What’s wrong, little spider?” You suppress a shiver at the nickname as goosebumps rise over your skin, it’s been a problem since he picked it. “I’m hot.” The words shoot out of your mouth before you can second-guess them again. Miguel chuckles a bit, sending embarrassment through your body, sits back in his chair, and crosses his arms, prompting you to go on.

“I can’t fix it. There’s… someone.” Miguel pretends he doesn’t notice the way your eyes flicker to him. “For some reason, something about them just- “ You pause for a moment, truly baffled by the way you feel, trying to find some way to explain it. “They just do something to me and it won’t stop.” Your words start to sound frantic, a bit panicked. Miguel leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees to examine your expression. “It’s like there's a low- like a low vibration- or a frequency? Like the ones that are so low you can barely hear but you can sorta feel them? It’s like that but- but deep inside me.”

Your eyes close and eyebrows furrow as you describe the feeling to him. He tries to keep his breathing even as he hardens uncontrollably under the suit. You don’t even realize what you’re confessing to him. “Like it’s in my bones, Miguel.” You add emphasis, your hands digging into the material of your suit before raising your head to meet his eyes, hoping he understands the state you’re in. He’s almost dizzy at the way his blood rushes to his cock. He holds your gaze and tries to convey a baffled, thoughtful expression as he tries to calm himself.

“That’s- That’s odd. Yeah, um.” He takes a few deep breaths before sitting back again, unable to stay in your space any longer. “Do- Can you tell me who’s causing it? Perhaps it’s a side effect of their powers?” Your spine straightens and you shake your head at him gently. You twist your fingers in the fabric of your suit and your feet play with each other on the lab floor. “H-have you heard of any powers like that?” You ask him, a hopeful look in your eyes.

Clever girl.

“No, I haven't.” He sits back, spreads his legs, and runs his hands down his thighs and back with a sigh. He holds back a smirk when his watch vibrates and he hears you take a sharp breath. “I- I don’t know what to do anymore. It- I can barely sleep.” You sound distraught, broken, and tired. He’d be the messed up one if he didn't help you… Right?

“I mean… I can try running some tests?” He offers, he keeps his tone light, trying to keep his dark desires off your radar. You perk up at his offer, already up and out of your seat, standing in front of him with a smile. He keeps his eyes on you, trying to ignore the way your scent is assaulting his nose, giving away how badly you need him. “You think we could?”

He nods and stands up, walking over to his lab table and clearing a few things. His head is already running wild with fantasies, ideas of what he could do to you, what he could teach you, how good he could make you feel. “Yeah, of course. C’mere, pequeña araña” You were already walking to him but your pace stutters and his watch vibrates when the nickname slips out. He truly didn’t mean to, he had gotten a bit too deep in his fantasies, and when your voice broke through he didn’t get fully pulled out. He’s never called you that in Spanish, not to your face at least, it’s fallen from his lips a few times before though, when he’s alone with his hand wrapped around his cock. But your reaction dissuades any fear that had shot through him before and he can’t help the smirk that makes its way on his face.

You’re standing silently beside him, wringing your hands together and he doesn’t think you even notice the way your thighs keep clenching together. “Get on the table.” His tone is teasing, a grin on his face as you jump and scramble onto the tabletop. You lay on your back and look over at Miguel, feeling that heat rage through you at the look on his face. It’s dark and- wanting. It’s confusing.

He takes a deep breath and your fingers try to dig into the metal table top as he walks to you. “Okay. I’m going to examine your body a bit, press into some muscles, some pressure points to see if maybe it’s a physical trigger. Is that okay with you?” Your chest is already rising and falling more rapidly at the thought, the promise of Miguel’s hands on you. You nod at him stiffly, trying to stay normal and calm as he holds your eye contact, nodding along with you. A small smile graces his face before he walks around and presses his palm into your hairline, pushing your head down to rest on the table as he stands north of you.

His hands press into your shoulders and your eyes shut tight. He can feel all your muscles tense and his watch vibrates, he sneaks a peak at his and sees the huge spike in almost all your vitals. His cock twitches in his suit at your obvious need but he brushes it aside, if he rushes into this he might scare you off and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if that happens. He may lose his mind. He moves his hands to your biceps, massaging them tightly as little whines slip into your breaths, only audible to his ears.

He walks back to the side of the tables and your eyes stay shut. He massages the softness of your sides and his breathing kicks up a bit once he gets to your hips. He takes his time with them, admiring the way you fit into his hands and how you subconsciously tilt them toward him. His thighs jump as his cock begins to leak, dripping precum down them. He takes a deep, shaky breath and forces himself to move on. He forced himself to move on, he was trying to take it slow, hopefully, you’d realize where you need him and ask for it. But your thighs spread open when he massages the outside and his hands dive for the inner before he can think it through.

You gasp, you sit up with your eyes wide and your hands gripping his wrists. You don’t do anything though, he expects you to pull his hands away but it feels more like you’re holding him there, stopping- or attempting to stop him from pulling away. So of course he doesn't. He stares into your eyes as you search his, trying to figure out if he realizes the way that made you feel, if your cover was blown, if he wants to stop but he looks expectant, like he’s waiting for something. So you loosen your grip. “That’s- I think that’s- ” You’re nodding at him lightly, hoping he understands what you’re trying to say because for some reason your brain has stopped working.

“Yeah?” Your heart stutters at his tone and the tilt of his head as he says it. Your thighs tense around his hand for a moment before you try to calm down, un-tense them but they can’t help the way they tremble with anticipation. You’re nodding at him more frantically and his eyelids flutter. “Okay.” He takes one hand out from between your thighs and rests it on your lower back as his other hand keeps massaging, slowly moving up your inner thigh and the sensations grow more intense the higher he gets.

Your eyes shut and your hands grip his wrists again, not pulling away, just holding him. Your eyes shut and your hips tilt into his hand, getting him so close to your pussy that he can feel the heat radiating off of her. You feel some sort of shame twinge in your belly, dampening the more intense feelings that Miguel was causing. What if this was wrong? What if you aren’t supposed to feel like this with him, without him knowing… Maybe you should stop.

Miguel moves further up and all those thoughts scatter from your head immediately. His watch vibrates again and a noise shoots out of your mouth- one you’ve never heard before as your body folds over and your head rests on his shoulder. You shut your eyes tight and take a slow, deep breath. “Sorry. Sorry, I-” He cuts you off. “It’s okay. That’s why I’m here, right?” He’s nodding at you, comforting and reassuring as his hand leaves your back to cradle your head. “You’re okay. I wanna help you, cariño.” Another noise leaves you at the nickname and his hand grips into your hair for a moment before sliding down to your neck and pulls your head away from his shoulder. He pushes your head against his for a moment, letting out a soft groan before letting go and pushing his fingers against your plush lips.

“How’s that, honey?” His hand settles back on your lower back as you whine and your hands move up his arm, gripping his biceps now and pulling yourself closer to him. “Miguel.” His eyes roll back at how you sound, desperate, breathless, and gone. Your hips are grinding into his fingers and they aren’t even on your clit yet. They’re pressing against your hole through your lips and your suit, he’s keeping his fingertips flat against you so he doesn’t slip inside.

He’s trying to ignore the mess he’s making in his pants, watching your tense face change into a relieved one, your eyebrows pulling inward as your lips part beautifully, releasing a shaky moan as he reangles his fingers to your clit. His hands are shaking as he tries to calm himself down, one of your hands slides up his arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake before gripping onto his shoulder and pulling him down, closer to your face. His eyes are fixed on your expression, taking everything in, every twitch and quiver, the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips before a whimper punches out of you.

You’re ruining him and you’re none the wiser. Your hand slides up to his neck and you push your forehead against his, like he did earlier. His eyes roll back before he forces them to you again, moving his fingers over you clit faster when your thighs begin to shake around his wrist. “I think-” Your voice comes out as a whimper and he groans into you. Your fingers grip into his hair and his cock cries against him. “Something… Miguel.”

The way you say his name fucks with him. It’s prettier than he ever could’ve imagined, he has to lean forward and press his throbbing cock against the edge of the table for relief. You’ve got him feeling like he could die, like he could implode if he doesn’t have you, if after this you realize what you need but get it somewhere else? It’ll be over for him. Your hand readjusts its grip in his hair, becoming more frantic as your spine straightens and your thighs close on his hands. “Miguel? I-” You cut yourself off with a moan and your head falls to his shoulder again, blocking your face from his view.

“No, no.” He brings his hand to the back of your neck again. “Let me see, amor.” He pulls you away from his shoulder and you moan at the nickname. Once again, it didn’t mean to slip out but you’ve got his head so cloudy he can’t help it. You’re moaning his name on repeat, like a warning and he’s pulsing at the thought, the promise of getting to see you cum, for him. His eyes can’t look away from you, he can’t see anything but your face, the way your brows furrow as you tense, and your nails dig into his arms, leaving reminders for later. He watches how you bite your lip before your jaw drops into an ‘O’ shape and his name falls from your lips one more time as a debauched cry.

He keeps his eyes open, watching you cum for him, how your lips form around his name again and again. He wants to collapse, fall to his knees with how much you’re turning him on but he needs to watch you. He forces himself to keep his eyes on you, ignoring the way they want to roll back at how he’s flooding his pants. His hips twitch against the edge of the table as he cums for you, with you. His mind zeros into the way he can feel your clit pulsing underneath his finger tips, how breathless you sound, trying to keep up with the noises he’s forcing from you. His stomach tenses painfully as his cock unloads more cum onto himself. You sound like an angel, crying out for him. He can’t help the way he dives for you, pulling you in to kiss him and swallowing every moan you’ll give him.

You whine into his mouth as his fingers slow down over your clit, your other hand meets the first in his hair and you keep his lips on yours. He keeps kissing you until you calm down and your breathing evens out. His hand comes from between your thighs and rubs your legs until you pull back from his lips. You have a bashful, embarrassed look on your face and it brings the largest smile that you’ve ever seen to his face. “Was that okay, pequeña araña?” You whine and pull him in for a hug, nodding into his shoulder as he chuckles and wraps his arms around you as you begin to giggle against him.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

4K notes · View notes

blitzyn · 8 months

Text

stop moving

re4r leon s. kennedy x m!reader

request: none

synopsis: After finding yourself stuck in a closet with Leon, you end up squirming just a little too much.

a/n -> i have fallen victim to the leon lover rabbit hole. ALSO. I FUCKING FRACTURED MY FINGER??? guys i almost cried when i had to write the word balls. </3 but thank you all for 1k followers! tbh i only started this acc because i liked the font when i wrote something in my drafts lmao. but still! it means a lot to me and im happy to have gotten this far!

wc -> 2.5k

cw -> thigh fucking, hiding in a closet, spit as lube, handjob (r receiving), pet names (baby x2, sweetheart x1), he's kinda possessive tbh, not beta read

This was supposed to be relatively simple: get in, figure out where the president's daughter was, save her, then get out. Sure, you've seen your fair share of weird shit — especially after the outbreak in Raccoon City, but finding out that there was a whole religion dedicated to spreading a plague for the sake of taking over the world definitely takes the cake. For now, at least.

But finding yourself cramped in a closet with Leon, surrounded by a horde of hostile cultists, also wasn't something you expected to happen throughout the entire mission.

"Stop moving so much," Leon quietly muttered from behind you just as you shifted.

"I'm not," you huffed, a bit annoyed that you had to hide in this stuffy closet, even if you knew that you'd probably be dead by now if it weren't for your partner's quick thinking. Against his words, you adjusted yourself again, trying to find a decently comfortable position. Suddenly, you felt his hands on your hips and the warmth of his chest pressed to your back as he pulled you flush against him.

"I said, stop moving," he repeated, whispering in your ear. You held back a shudder at the feeling of his breath ghosting over the shell of it, stilling completely in surprise. Just then, thunderous footsteps could be heard outside the closet; slowly, listening for any sound that might reveal where the two of you hid.

You tensed and instinctively backed up to further yourself from the perpetrator, even if there wasn't much room to move to begin with. You could faintly hear Leon grunt from behind you, but you were in no position to apologize at the moment. Your eyes were glued to a crack in the old, wooden door, watching as the light shifted when the person passed by.

You waited with bated breath, hoping that it wouldn't come near. But, like some cliche horror movie, you could see the light at the bottom of the door disappear, meaning it was far too close for comfort. With every second the person stood there, the tighter Leon's hold on your hips became. The two of you went so silent your ears rang, and you were briefly afraid that it'd hear the sound of your racing heartbeat.

But after what felt like an eternity, its heavy footsteps started up again and away from the closet. You heaved a sigh of relief when the front door slammed shut, rendering the building empty once more.

"Fucking hell, sorry," you mumbled, trying to shuffle forward and give Leon his space when you realized that he hadn't let go of you yet. "You okay?"

Using the dim light that filtered through the cracks in the door, you lifted your arms a bit and curiously peered at his hands. But that's when you noticed the black lines covering his arms. Upon closer inspection, you quickly realized that they were his veins.

"Christ, Leon, what—"

"Be quiet. Just—just for a second."

You found it hard to tear your eyes away from his arms, waiting in silence. You focused on the sound of his labored breaths, biting your tongue to keep yourself from questioning him even further. Your mind couldn't help the invasion of 'What happened?' and 'What is that?' that threatened to spill from your lips. How did you not notice this earlier?!

You were pulled from your thoughts when you felt him rest his forehead on your shoulder, muttering and grunting under his breath. And that's when you felt it — the reason why he was so reluctant to move just yet: he was hard.

"Oh." You couldn't help it, even if he had already told you to shut your mouth twice already. The silence from then on was painfully awkward as the two of you tried to figure out what to say. With a deep breath, you miraculously found the courage to speak up.

"Do you... Can I help you?" You offered, remaining still to keep yourself from accidentally pressing yourself up against him again. It was silent while you waited for his reply, embarrassment wriggling its way through your chest the longer the two of you kept quiet.

"I mean, you don't have to accept, you can just ignore me—" you began to ramble on, mortified that you even asked the question. "I just thought, cause, like, it'll be hard for you to—shit, I didn't mean it like that—"

"[Name]," Leon interrupted you, finding your instant silence charming in its own way. You could hear him take a deep breath in just as his hands slid further up to firmly caress your waist and abdomen. Electricity shot down your spine and pooled in your gut when he tugged you closer to him, grinding himself against your ass. "You can."

He reached for your hand and brought it behind you, placing it directly onto his cock. You gave it a tentative squeeze, savoring the quiet grunt that came from him, feeling your confidence grow by the second. You heard the gentle jingling of his belt as he undid it just enough for you to dip your hand underneath the waistband of his pants and boxers.

"Not wasting a second, huh?" Amusement and lust were laced in his voice as he spoke, a quiet moan spilling from his lips soon after.

He was hot and thick in your hand, throbbing rhythmically. You swiped a finger over the tip that beaded precum, savoring the shudder that came from his body. His hips trusted up into your fist, seeking more, and you were more than happy to oblige.

With a steady pace, you moved your hand up and down, tracing the prominent veins. You felt your own cock twitch at the sound of Leon's breathy groans and sighs, but you ignored it in favor of getting him off.

"Fuuckk," he drawled out, leaning forward to press his lips on the side of your neck. "You're good at this. Makes me think you've done this typa thing before."

"No," you responded, gently rubbing the spot on the underside of the tip. "You're the only one."

"I get the special treatment?" He muttered teasingly, his breath hot against your skin. "Must be my lucky day."

He could feel his body buzzing with adrenaline as he peppered open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck, untucking your shirt to slide a hand up your torso to pinch and toy with a nipple. His free hand traveled lower, slipping his cold fingertips underneath the waistband of your pants, but refused to go further than that.

You could feel his lips curl in a subtle smirk, but even as you realized he was teasing you, testing your patience, you had no intention to retaliate. Christ. The hold this man had on you. It was downright pathetic.

"God," he started, pressing his palm flat on your chest to bring you closer to him—eager for more of your touch. He let his teeth gently scrape against your skin, threatening to bite—to mark you, but he forced himself not to. He couldn't. Not right now. "I want to fuck you so bad."

His words were breathless, borderline desperate, as they left his lips. He couldn't help but thrust his hips up into your fist, pushing and pushing until your hand was flush against your ass, keeping you from jerking him off as he rutted against your hand.

"We can't, Leon," you muttered, disappointment lacing your voice. As much as you'd love to have him inside you, fucking you deep, you knew you couldn't. Not when the Ganados were still outside, at least. "Just let me finish you off."

Leon let out a low growl, knowing that you were right. There were a lot of things the two of you couldn't do inside the confined space of the closet, forcing him to conjure up ideas of what he wanted to do when all of this was over.

But for now, he settled on the second best option: your thighs.

"I know," he murmured, breathing in deeply as he pulled your hand away from his throbbing cock. "Then let me fuck your thighs. I'll be quick, I promise."

You mulled over his words, unsure if it would be a good idea.

"Please, baby," he pleaded, his voice heavy with lust. "Just this once. Then, when we find Ashley and get the hell outta this place, I'll make sure to fuck you properly. Nice 'n hard 'n deep. Wouldn't you like that?"

Fuck it.

"Mhm, yeah, go ahead." You relented, knees weakening at the thought of having his thick cock inside you, stretching and filling you up perfectly.

"Atta boy," he buried his thumbs underneath your pants and boxers, pulling them down to let them drop to your ankles. "Knew you'd come around."

He groaned at the sight of your bare thighs and drooling cock, running his hands along the curve of your ass to lean back and spread it, focusing his gaze on your asshole. "Fuck," he hissed. "Can't wait to feel your tight little hole around me later. Gonna fill you up with my cum, make you mine."

Arousal sank in your stomach like a rock as your hole clenched around nothing. Whatever's coursing through his veins made him more impulsive, more desperate, but with the fog that clouded your thoughts, you hardly found it in you to mind.

He spat on his cock and moved a hand away from your body to briefly jerk himself off and smear the saliva around.

"Open up, baby," he instructed as soon as he was done, raising his hand to caress your hip. "Spread your legs a little."

Like a trained puppy, you obeyed, widening your thighs just enough to let him guide his hard cock in between them. Your breath hitched at the sight of the head peeking out, squeezing your legs around him just a bit tighter.

"Jesus fuck, [Name]," he groaned, leaning forward to press his chest against your back. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close to him. Through the hazy mess that was in your mind, you found comfort in the warmth and firmness of them as you placed your hands on his forearms for some sort of stability. "That's it. Squeeze me just like that."

You could feel every twitch and throb, and you were sure he could feel yours, too. It felt like your senses were on overdrive as you listened to your labored breaths, his pleased sighs and grunts, and the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your thighs. He set a leisurely pace, rocking his hips back and forth.

"Shit..." He hissed, speeding up his thrusts as his dick rubbed against your balls, smearing his makeshift lube across your skin.

His hips met yours with quiet slaps, making sure to keep the noise level at a minimum despite the overwhelming urge to just bury himself inside you right then and there. He mouthed at the nape of your neck, tasting the salt of your skin, gently pressing his teeth down hard enough to send sparks down your spine.

His fingertips pressed into your sides so firmly it hurt, but it only served to mix in with the desire that burned brightly in your belly. He fucked your thighs with a sense of urgency, as if trying to satiate a hunger deep within his subconscious—not that you minded.

He grunted and groaned with every thrust, tightening his arms around your waist to tug you back to him whenever your hips jolted forward. It was intoxicating; the way he so effortlessly turned your body into a sensitive mess left you wanting more.

But as soon as a strong hand wrapped around your aching cock, you nearly came on the spot. One of your hands left Leon's forearm to slap it over your mouth as you tried to keep yourself from moaning too loud.

He breathily chuckled beside your ear. "Is this what you wanted?" He rhetorically questioned, swiping a finger over the leaking head so perfectly it left your skin tingling. "Tell me, sweetheart."

"Ohh, fuck," you hissed. It was embarrassing how you so eagerly responded to his touch. "Yeah, th-that's it...!"

Your eyes fluttered shut, focusing on the feeling of his slick cock moving in and out from between your thighs. Your lips parted from behind your hand to let out quiet pants and moans, digging your nails into his forearm the closer you got to your orgasm.

"Oh god, Leon—!" You moaned, pressing yourself further against his back. You could feel your legs faltering, but he didn't seem to mind having you rely on him to stand up.

"I know, baby, I know," he muttered, his voice tight and strained as his thrusts gradually grew sloppy and weak. "Me too."

His cock pulsed and twitched, and he can't help himself from clamping his teeth over the side of your neck this time. It wasn't hard enough to draw blood, but it left a noticeable bite mark that dully ached.

"Come on, baby, cum for me," he instructed, and you had no choice but to comply.

With a muffled moan, you arched your back and finally came as ropes of your semen coated the dusty wooden floor and Leon's fingers. He stroked you until he was sure that you were spent before letting go to chase after his own release.

"Shit," he cursed, breathing heavily. "I'm gonna cum so... so fucking hard...!"

With a strained groan, his hips jerked erratically as he came, holding you tight enough to leave bruises. You gently rub your thighs together, helping him ride out his high. It wasn't until a few moments later did he finally stop, breathing hard against your neck as he calmed down. But that's also when the clarity kicked in.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered, moving his head from you. "I'm sorry, I don't know what happened—I just—" he apologized, sighing in defeat a moment later.

"It's fine," you replied, patting his arm. You had to suppress a shudder when he pulled away from your thighs. The cum that ended up on the insides of them quickly cooled, leaving an uncomfortable sensation on your skin. You were just gonna have to suck it up.

"Let's just get outta here, already." You shuffled forward a bit to tug your pants back up your legs while Leon composed himself.

"Yeah," he said, pressing an arm against the dusty, wooden door. Through the dim light, you could see that his veins were no longer visible again, but that thought was going to have to hold off until later. "You ready?"

"Yup." You nodded after briefly making sure you still had everything in place.

Without further thought about what happened just a few seconds ago, Leon pushed the door open and quickly left the closet as you trailed close behind. Now, it was back to work.

3K notes · View notes

obsessivevoidkitten · 9 months

Text

Between A Rock And A Hard Place

Male Yandere Human-like Golem x Gender Neutral Human Reader (CW: Noncon, huge dick, golem man, magic, fatal violence towards bandits, spit used as lube, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 1.8k (Sorry this took forever, was originally going to be a drabble and then kinda got away from me, hope you all enjoy huge dick golem man.)

The small town that you lived in, Somnheim, had been victim to a swathe of horrible luck. Raided by bandits, packs of beasts killing livestock, and enemy soldiers scavenging what they could. Finally the town had enough and sent for a practitioner of the magic arts to aid them in the defense of their village.

This was you.

They didn’t have much but they offered a home and food for your services. You figured you could help them and have a quiet place to conduct your research away from the prying eyes of the council, who liked to hold newer mages under their thumb. It would also just be something nice you could do for your fellow humans, and these folks clearly needed the help.

You didn’t want to stay in this place forever though, so your solution would have to be one that would last long after you were gone.

Given your expertise in summoning and animating the logical choice was a good, old fashioned, golem. A pentagram, some select incense, clay flesh molded to a slate skeleton and imbued with an amethyst heart carrying an artificial soul, some runes carved in, and a scroll inserted that would have him follow his purpose and give him personality.

Then just add in a spell that turned the humanoid clay man into something more human so as not to frighten the villagers too badly and make him able to experience a near human existence.

The ritual was a complete success. Of course it was. You were you after all, young but talented and more importantly utterly dedicated to your craft.

Somnheim now had a mighty protector. An artificial man over 9 feet tall, with huge bulging muscles, shaggy brown hair, stoic brown eyes that gave nothing away, and glowing green runes on his arms and legs. The spell that made him human-like was more than just visual, it gave him nearly all the functions of a human male, he’d be as durable and strong as the hardest metal, never age, and of course he was certainly infertile.

Not one for creative names, you named him Slate.

Eventually bandits came by and decided they would stock up in Somnheim before going on to bigger and better loot.

They did not live to regret that decision.

Slate simply rolled a massive boulder down the hill they approached from and flattened all but a couple. Those he took care of quickly with magically precise throws of average sized stones.

Over the months any threat he couldn’t flatten with a boulder or smack with a stone he would pop open with his mighty fists.

By the end of his first year as the village’s guardian he was beloved by every single townsperson. Even the tiny children, who would climb on him and put flowers in his shaggy hair as he smiled and watched, had no fear of him.

You had enjoyed your time there, but eventually it was time for a change of scenery. You wanted to do more field research and you had saved enough money up with side projects to be able to fund a trip to the other side of the country near The Great Forest.

The villagers were grateful and sad to see you go, but they were much more interested in Slate than you.

But when you packed your bags to leave behind your wattle and daub dwelling once and for all you found yourself blocked by Slate.

He uttered one word in that deep, almost monotone, voice of his.

“No.”

“What do you mean no? I have to leave.” You tried to squeeze past him but he was not having it.

“I must protect the village… Your presence here makes the village safer… I might need repairs… or reinforcements… And you also tasked me with keeping you safe…”

You fudged the wording. You, breather of life into stone, weaver of clay, and creator of souls, messed up the wording.

He picked you up like a box of luggage and sat you on a chair in your makeshift study before going over to the heaviest bookshelf, picking it up, and placing it in front of the only door so you couldn’t escape.

“I’ll move it when I need to leave… then I will put a rock outside to keep you here…”

And that became your life. A literal prisoner in your own home.

Your magical abilities were useless in this situation, you were not a battlemage that could explode a wall, you couldn’t teleport, you bent earth.

Of course you tried to tunnel your way out by making a hole under your bed, but Slate had walked in and caught you red handed. He had confiscated and locked away all your magical supplies and texts unless you needed them to repair him you were not getting them back.

Slate was tentative enough of your physical needs, bringing you food and water and taking you outside like some sort of pet for sunlight, fresh air, and exercise. You had tried to run away but of course he had inhuman speed. And the villagers refused to help. What if Slate refused to save them if they did that?

It was a fair concern, he was made to protect the village and not villagers, he may even see them as a threat if they assisted you. You were on your own.

Though you were healthy enough physically your mental condition was deteriorating rapidly. How could you not be? Being trapped in the same building, even with trips outside, was awful. The villagers only looked at you with pity if they looked at you at all, and no one would even talk to you anymore.

It got to the point where you barely eat, refused to go outside, and spent all your time laying in bed.

Slate was failing the magical directives that governed his personality and behavior. You were clearly not safe, he was convinced that you would die if this continued, and honestly you likely would… eventually…

But the golem was not incapable of learning. He observed the other humans to find out what he could add to your life to bring you back to your usual self.

One night, when he was sitting in front of the house watching the humans passing by and holding hands, he came to the conclusion that humans had families, they lived together in their dwellings and they loved each other. They coupled together and mated.

Up until this point Slate had only been directed by simple emotion and the unyielding parchment that had imbued him with his goals. But now his task demanded something more of him, it demanded a much more complex emotion. The magic in him allowed this evolution, and now he was much more dangerous because he loved you. But it wasn’t just love he felt for the first time, it was lust.

Slate’s expression became one of someone thinking about the one who they adored infinitely, an expression of a man thinking about the person he wanted to have writhing in pleasure beneath him, even his normally green runes and brown eyes took on an amorous pink glow.

When you heard the boulder blocking the door shift and then heard the bookshelf take its place as what was blocking your way out as Slate came lumbering in with his heavy steps you didn’t even glance up.

Not until he stood in front of you and you noticed his strange pink glow replacing his green one did you stir.

You sat up in bed and when you saw the strange way his normally near emotionless eyes were staring at you, and glowing, you scooted away.

“I know what you need now! I am so sorry for not realizing sooner…” He said in a surprisingly soothing tone, a stark departure from his normally deep monotone.

“What do yo-”

Your words were forgotten as he took off his shirt and pants revealing a sweaty body and a frighteningly large cock.

“You need a partner to be happy, like the other humans, and you need to mate!”

He sounded very eager.

“No! Uh… I don’t need to… mate. I need to lea-” he put a large finger over your lips and shushed you before gripping your pants and peeling them and your underwear away from you carefully.

There was no dissuading him from his chosen course of action, he would make you happy and keep you safe no matter what!

It’s what you needed.

Slate leaned forward and spit all over your hole, thoroughly lubing it with his spit, before pressing his big cock into your hole.

It was so large that you let out a whimper of pain at first, but he was somehow knowledgeable enough about sex to know he needed to let you adjust to the size rather than just ramming himself in.

You gasped and writhed but he held you still with his massive hands running up and down your sides as he slowly pulled you down on his prick.

Slate was in complete heaven, he had never really known much pleasure of any kind, let alone the type that came with burying his cock in someone he was now completely obsessed with.

He had no idea his dick could be used for this at all, but now that he did he would certainly be doing this everyday, maybe even a couple times a day! The perfect blend of heat and softness was amazing.

As he began to thrust slowly, with a blissed out expression as he stared up at nothing with drool coming out of his mouth, you couldn’t help but moan in pleasure as his cock caressed your depths perfectly.

Hearing your breathy moans snapped him back to reality. You were finally happy again~

The treatment was working! That settled it, he would do this every single day no matter what!

Carefully gripping your sides a bit more firmly he moved your entire body back and forth on his cock. You couldn’t help it, your whole body twitched with the force of a massive orgasm. The sensation of your body spasming around his previously virgin dick caused him to slam in deep and cum hard.

He pulled you close, holding your head into his muscular chest as he panted, his dick still firmly impaling your limp body. You hadn’t been eating much and this serious fucking had taken a lot out of you.

Slate cleaned the two of you up, bathing you gently before taking advantage of your compliant state by spoon feeding you some dinner he had brought from a town person.

Mating with you made you so pleasured and too tired to resist him when he took care of you, he almost couldn’t wait until you had enough energy to do it again, his cock strained in his pants with anticipation.

#yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #monster boyfriend #gender neutral reader #yandere boyfriend #male yandere x gn reader #yandere terato #my ocs #yandere x reader #male yandere #My OC Slate

3K notes · View notes

dat1angel · 10 months

Text

Danny the tiktok star

DPxDC au

So Danny, as any high school teen would do, makes videos on the latest video sharing social media site. In this case that's tiktok, although if we look at the time that Danny Phantom came out Vine might be more appropriate...

Either way, he makes silly little videos that range from funny jokes, A Day in the Life at Casper High, Space Fact Friday, POV: You live in Amity Park, roasting whatever ghost happens to be attacking that day, ect. He gains a small following of people who like his content but it's nowhere near being able at call himself tiktok famous. Until one post...

"Hello, my name is Danny, and this is my Official Application for Bruce Wayne to adopt me"

He jokes about how he is a young teen male with black hair, blue eyes, and a questionable home life which makes him the perfect candidate for a Bruce Wayne adoptee. The video goes viral so Danny leans into the bit and starts making more of that content. Photoshoping myself into a Wayne family photo, What I would wear to a Wayne gala, Taking a 'Which Wayne Are You' quiz.

When the Wayne kids find his account they think it's hilarious and keep an eye for new posts from him. One day Tim is stuck in a boring WE meeting so when he gets a notification that Danny posted a new video he will gladly take the distraction. He wasn't expect what he would find...

The video opens with the camera facing Danny, but he's not in any of his usual filming locations. It's hard to tell what exactly is happening around him but there's shouting in the distance and the sound of sirens. In fact, it looks as if Danny is leaning against an ambulance. Danny looks unusually pale and has what looks like a shock blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The camera is shakey and when he speaks his voice comes out weak.

"Hey guys... It's Danny. You know how I joke a lot about being adopted by Bruce Wayne?..."

Danny pauses and takes a shakey breath. It seems like he loses his grip on the phone for a moment because the camera fumbles before being held upright again. It's not a great view, but viewers can catch a glimpse of a destroyed building in the background, firefighters still working to get all the flames doused. When Danny starts speaking again he seems to choke on the words.

"W-Well, something happened and.. I'm k-kinda and orphan now? So uh..." Danny gives a small sad sounding chuckle that fades into a light cough, "this is my official application for Bruce Wayne to adopt me. Internet, do your thing..."

The video ends.

#dp x dc #dpxdc #fic prompt #danny makes tiktoks #they're pretty funny #the nasty burger explosion #his family is dead now #hes sad #dannys an orphan #you thought it was gonna be cute and silly but it was sad

3K notes · View notes

triptuckers · 4 months

Text

sparring sessions - percy jackson

Request: yes! "ok so ik it’s kinda (by kind of i mean VERY) cliche, but i was wondering if u could do like an angst -> fluff where like percy and reader get into a fight n stuff and he like admits that he loves them??" Pairing: percy jackson x reader Summary: when an argument between you and percy gets heated, some things are revealed Warnings: mentions of injuries and blood, arguing, angst Word count: 858 A/N: raaaaaahhh I LOVE me some cliche's LETS GO !! thanks for you request, enjoy!

it started out as an innocent sparring session between percy and jake, a hephaestus kid. a couple kids from hermes, hephaestus, and athena decided to get together to train. you and percy also joined.

you'd been at camp longer than percy, so you had trained him in the beginning. the two of you often train together even though percy is now better than you.

but somehow he still looks at you while sparring with someone else. if it's to read your facial expressions or just because you're in his line of sight, you're not sure.

but today it nearly went wrong.

while percy and jake were sparring, percy was looking at you and too late to block jake's sword. he managed to make a deep cut in percy's arm.

the session was immediately ended and percy put his sword away. while the other kids continued their training session, you walked away. you couldn't stay there and be around percy right now. clearly he hadn't listened to you.

but percy, having seen your face, follows you.

as soon as you get to percy's cabin - which provides you with more privacy than your own - you turn around to look at him with an irritated look on your face.

'I told you to ignore me if you're sparring!' you say.

percy frowns. but nothing bad happened? why are you mad at him? besides, he can't look away from you when he's sparring. he thought you knew this.

'and how am I supposed to do that?' says percy, watching as you take off your armor and neatly put it away. 'you're the one that taught me. of course I need to see if you think I'm doing a good job.'

you pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers. you're trying so hard to stay calm right now.

'of course I think you're doing a good job, percy.' you say. 'I know you're good at what you do. but you'd do a great job if you would listen to my advice and avoid getting stabbed.'

percy makes a soft offended noise. 'first of all, I didn't get stabbed. I got nicked!'

you groan out loud 'percy! come on, don't be stubborn!'

'I'm the one being stubborn? you should see yourself when you're sparring. you want it to be perfect but fighting never is! it's messy, no matter how good you train someone.'

'I'm going for a walk.' you say, before you get angrier and say things you don't mean.

you grab your armor and walk towards the door, but he steps in front of you, blocking the doorway.

'oh no, you're not. we're not done yet.' says percy, crossing his arms over his chest, displaying the cut on his arm that he didn't have time to heal yet.

'got more to say?' you say.

'yes. you never did actually tell me what I did wrong.' says percy. 'you're mad, I can tell. but you didn't tell me what it was that I did that's made you mad.'

'yes I did. I told you that you need to ignore me when you're sparring. focus all of you attention on the opponent, not me.'

'I can't do that.'

'can't focus on the opponent? I noticed.'

'that's not what I meant!'

'then what do you mean!'

'I meant I can't ignore you when I'm sparring!' says percy loudly. 'I can never ignore you, don't you understand that? whenever you're near you always have my attention, I can never look away. even when you're not near me I'm thinking about you. gods, you're always on my mind because I love you, okay? so I'm sorry if I can't look away from you when I'm sparring!'

you hadn't realised how close you were to each other. now percy's face is close to yours, both of you breathing heavily.

you knew percy liked you, obviously. you wouldn't be staying in his cabin almost every night if he didn't. but this? even though you knew percy had liked you for a long time, you hadn't been together for that long.

'you love me?' you say in a soft voice, feeling your anger and irritation ebb away.

percy closes his eyes and shakes his head, as if he just now realises what he said. then he sighs and when he opens his eyes and looks at you, there's nothing but sweetness in them.

'yeah. I do.' says percy. 'I've loved you for a long time, actually.'

you smile and want to say something but percy's eyes widen.

'wait, shit, is that too soon? should I have waited to say it? oh gods if I-'

'percy.' you say, shutting him up by stepping even closer to him.

'it's okay. I love you too.' you say.

percy grins and his eyes twinkle. without warning, he puts his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips against yours. he can feel the smile on your lips.

when he pulls back, you're both smiling.

'you still want to go on that walk?' says percy.

'definitely not.' you say.

percy laughs and kisses you again, your argument already forgotten.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost, steal or translate my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#pjo #percy jackson #Percy Jackson x reader #Percy Jackson fanfiction #Percy Jackson fanfic #Percy Jackson fanfics #Percy Jackson fic #Percy Jackson fics #Percy Jackson oneshot #Percy Jackson oneshots #pjo fanfiction #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfics #pjo fic #pjo fics #pjo oneshot #pjo oneshots

1K notes · View notes

queenie-the-court-jester · 19 days

Text

break up with your boyfriend

Yandere trans!fem cheerleader x fem reader

It was so shittily made but I need to pump out more fics or else my blog will die. Thank you all for 1k followers though! I'll rewrite this in the future maybe

Tw: mentions of blackmailing, nsfw, slight breeding kink, batshit crazy girlfriend,not proofread, another oc mentioned!?🌺

💄Eva saccharine has been your girlfriend since she first started transitioning. You helped her style her hair, do her nails, pick her clothes, find good makeup, anything she needed to feel like the real her. So when freshman year rolled in, it came as no surprise to you she fit right in with the clique.

💐Ofcourse you had your fears she'd choose them over you but that wasn't the case, because she'd make you eat lunch with them and sit on her lap, not so subtly humping your ass while talking all about cheer practice

🛍️boys wanted to date her, girls wanted to be her. She just wanted you, to just be the two baddest bitches on the block. It didn't matter if you were just like her or the complete opposite, she gushed over you. Praising you for being her good girl, her sweet little princess, her obedient pocket pussy-

💄but at this current moment? She was busy bullying your insides, forcing her fat cock into your slippery hole as she held you steady by your waist. Biting and groaning everytime she'd feel you squeeze that certain spot on her dick

"fu-uuckkk.. baby cakes, 'yer squeezin' me so goood.. ah.. hah.. you wouldn't mind if I pumped a few babes into your tight cunny right? Wanna be my baby mama?"

💐that made you squeeze tighter, holding onto the bedsheets for dear life. She had you face down, ass up and damn near breaking your back with how hard she was going. Hearing the normally composed and playful eva turn into a drooling pussy-drunk mess had you feeling butterflies, just going plap play plap-

🛍️let's just say, by the end of it, you couldn't walk for days afterwards. But no amount of hickies and perfume would be able to scare away a rather persistent guy. He was on the football team, star quarterback, rich asshole. sam white. Eva hated his guts, he thinks he can just waltz in and steal her bitch? Not on her watch.

💄this little feud had been going on for a while, and more times than you could count you've been caught in the crossfire. Though it was kinda funny, seeing them screeching insults at eachother and bickering. Eva would sassily flick her blonde hair and grab you by the collar of your neck, Dragging you away while Sam hooted and hollered at your retreating form

💐you never questioned her morbid fascination with anything horror or paranormal related. She was just obsessed with regular girl things. wanting you to help her summon a demon once, but you aren't that stupid, making blood pacts with them could result in very unsavory ending's and you quite cherished your soul and body

🛍️Eva has more than one account on different social medias, pretending to be multiple different people and Stalking your posts. She'd slide into your dms and flirt, seeing if you'd really cheat on her. She's so happy when you instantly block the account, guess you'll survive not being sent to her basement for another week

💄she has the audacity to grab a frilly pink pen and make you wear clothes that purposely shows off what she wrote. In bright bold lettering, Eva's little cum dump ♡ . Maybe she'll let you bring a jacket, only if you beg her really hard with those big doe eyes she loves. She put a collar and leash on you too

💐don't try breaking up with her, she takes 'they go low, I go lower" to another level. Threatening to post pictures of you in rather compromising positions. When did she record all of this? Who knows. She won't refrain from spreading nasty rumors of you that just force you to come sobbing into her arms, if you try and get comfort from somebody else she won't hesitate to eliminate them. Don't you see? She's the final girl, and you're her love Interest

"I told you not to run pretty baby.. now look what you've done. I gotta fix your mess up~.."

moral of the story: be a loyal loving girlfriend and she'll spoil you rotten with her daddy's black card ♥️

935 notes · View notes

dradrianmilk · 6 months

Text

Great dreamling dynamic is dream sees hob for the reunion in 2021 and he just.. cant leave. Cant get himself to leave and wait another 100 years. Hob is so excited he even gets to have another meeting and he nearly dies for real when dream just kinda follows him upstairs at the end of the night like a stray cat! Hob is trying so incredibly hard to not make a big deal over it afraid of another 1889 even if his stranger seems so different now... they continue their meeting in hobs living room sitting next to one another on a small couch and dream brings his now socked feet up on the couch to hold his legs to his chest and hob bites his tongue so he doesnt tell this powerful supernatural force that he looks so fucking cute right now. Hob will extend this meeting as long as he can but hes ready to pass out hes so tired. Dream catches him yawning and instructs him to go to bed but hob is stalling trying anything to get his stranger to stay. Its ends up hob falls asleep despite his best efforts and wakes up in his own bed, bittersweet that he got to see his stranger again but accidentally cut their meeting short... he hopes dream will still come around for 2089 instead of now waiting until 2121. Dream is still on his couch. He turns to look at hob when he exits his room and gives a slow blink. Hob is so fucking confused but he rolls with it with a grin and prepares them a big breakfast and dream can feel the love and affection pouring out of the cup of tea alone. Its exactly like feeding a stray cat, because he keeps coming back.

The more affection hob gives dream the more often dream comes around. Hob is so glad this is the case because he has so many hugs to give and having dream as a regular fixture in his life now is one of the best things thats ever happened to him. Hes waiting at their table for hob to get home from work every day now and when hob kisses him for the first time dream cant stand to be apart from him for more than about 4 hours at a time before a near cataclysmic breakdown. Hob doesn’t get scared off, not in the slightest. He quite enjoys the obsessive focus in fact because his own all encompassing adoration for dream seems less creepy in comparison.

Coworker: uh hey whatcha got there??

Hob, holding hands with dream for the past 12 hours straight: a smoothie.

#dreamling #dream x hob #hob × dream #morpheus x hob #hob x morpheus #hob gadling #dream of the endless #doctors notes #text

729 notes · View notes

hxt1b · 3 months

Text

how much you own me

ex-boyfriend Gojo x reader

-> CW: ex-boyfriend Gojo, angsty, you both teach at jujutsu high, Gojo is an idiot, Geto is flirty but that is inconsequential [I just love him] Gojo is possessive and a bit whiney, fluffy near the end. MDNI, smut warning [hand jobs, fingering, finger sucking, it’s all kinda soft tbh, nipple sucking, penetration, a lot of kisses – so many kisses, bathroom sex, public sex, mention of form of protection {IUD} I apologize if I missed anything]

-> WC: 2.9k

-> Masterlist | Prompt List [send me requests!]

-> A/N: Okay so this is a little cliché, maybe not the best written, and totally self-indulgent. I wanted an ex-boyfriend Gojo begging you to take him back, and some make up(ish) sex and so I wrote it. I hope you guys like it. As usual please ignore any grammar that is incorrect, I tried my best.

"When I'm all by myself and the drink doesn't help. Take 'em down from the shelf and I'm reminded, I keep fighting wars in my head with the miles of regret 'cause I had every letter but now, I cant find the words to say."

– The Vamps

“Don’t walk away from me.” His voice was even, he never really yelled. That was one of the first things you’d liked about Gojo, his effortless calm. Everything was easy for him, so it was rare for him to be anything but calm. The only things that rattled Gojo were things he couldn’t control. Lack of control was not a state of being for Gojo Satoru.

“Watch me.” You replied turning away from him. He caught your wrist and pulled you back towards his chest.

“Stop.” He gritted out, his voice wasn’t as even anymore but he wasn’t yelling. He still thought he had some control. Jokes on him.

“Or what?” You asked, your tone taunting. Your head tilted to the side as you glared up at your ex. His pale blue eyes were hidden behind glasses, but this close you could see them narrow at you through the tinted glass.

You scoffed at him before yanking out of his hold.

“Leave me alone Gojo.”

Your footsteps echoed down the hall as you walked away from him. Your hands shook at your side. A couple of steps, and you’d be outside. Outside the school. Outside Gojo’s bubble. Out.

“I can’t.”

His words hit your back, piercing up your skin, and crawling over your mind. You saw red.

“You can’t?” You asked. Your steps halted just as you got to the door. “You fucking can’t!?” your voice rose as you spun to face him. He was still in the spot you’d left him.

“You broke up with me!” You yelled, “You stopped talking to me! Three months Gojo and now you wanna talk to me like that didn’t fucking happen. Well too bad, I don’t give a fuck about you anymore.”

That was a blatant lie. You cared a lot and seeing him was hard, him touching you was brutal. You needed to get out of this hallway. Away from him.

He said your name as you turned away from him a second time, a soft word floating in the hallway. Your blood boiled as you stomped out the door.

He followed, “Please baby.” His hand grabbed your arm again, but he didn’t pull. This time his grip just held you in place.

“Do not call me that, and do not touch me.” You yanked your arm out of his hand for the last time and walked away.

Gojo was drunk.

“Youreanidiot.” Geto slurred. “I said that back then too remember?” He was waving his glass in Gojo’s face.

“Shut up you drunk.”

“Hey, I’m only drunk because I’m a good best friend.”

Gojo took a large swig of his drink, the bitter taste coated his throat, a deep burn blazing down his chest. He closed his eyes and let his head fall on the table. The room was spinning. He told Geto as much, but Geto mumbled something back before getting up and leaving Gojo alone at the table.

“I need some space.”

Space was stupid. Space was dumb. Why had he asked for it? What did he learn? Oh, he learned something alright, he learned what your face looked like when your heart broke. Gojo banged his head against the table once, before letting out a deep groan.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, his hands fumbling the device as he brought it to his face. Only lifting his body half up in his seat, that’s all he could manage. He thumbed through his contacts and found your name. He called you. Once, twice, three times. Of course, you didn’t answer him so he texted.

im don’t need spac e I jst needu.

Im sn idiot.

Im sorry.

But of course, you never replied, you never read them.

“Oh, Satoru don’t text her,” Geto whined as he sat down in his seat again beside Gojo.

“I’m pathetic.”

“That you are.” Geto swung his arm around Gojo’s shoulder pulling him into his side. “But it's okay.”

“He really thinks he’s something huh?” your best friend asked from your left. You were sat on a bar stool your first drink, following three shots, in your hand. You’d only taken a sip from it before spotting Gojo leaning against a wall. His gaze geared on you.

“He really thinks he can just get you back?” Utahime asked from your right. Her presence was the reason you three were out today at this club, she was visiting for the weekend.

“He sent some drunk messages last night.” You said looking away from him and pulling your phone out to show your friends. The two leaned into to look at your screen. Your best friend snickered.

“Sad.”

“Pathetic.”

“Ah yes, that he is.” Geto’s voice churned in. Your eyes moved up to take in his smiling face, he was leaning in as well, his eyes on your phone.

You pulled your phone to your chest, forcing Geto to turn his smile to you.

“Have you heard of personal space?” You asked. Your distaste for Gojo unsurprisingly extended to his best friend.

His only response was a soft breathy chuckle and a step back.

“Hey now,” He started throwing his hands up, “I don’t think I’m the enemy.”

“Why are you two here?” Your best friend asked, Geto turned his head to her, his eyes trailing down her body before he replied.

“Isn’t it obvious babe?” He asked leaning towards her.

“It’s pathetic.” You muttered.

“I thought we already went over that,” Geto replied his hands disappearing into his pockets his eyes still on your best friend.

“Go away.” Your best friends muttered turning away from him. You could tell she was flustered by his gaze.

You rolled your eyes at Geto’s antics before quickly downing your drink.

You took Utahime and your best friend’s hands, “Come let’s go dance.” You pulled them both towards the crowded dance floor, the bass of whatever song was playing thumped through your body as you settled into a spot and began to sway to the music. The couple of shots you’d taken before realizing Gojo was also in the building were running rampant through your bloodstream now, aided by the heat of the bodies around you. You laughed as the song changed and you danced pushing your ex out of your head and letting yourself go to the music. You were having fun despite Gojo and that’s why you didn’t mind when hands snaked around your waist and pulled you away from your friends. You ground your hips back into the stranger liking the way his hands trailed up your side, his head curling into the side of your neck. He said something but you didn’t hear him, your eyes had found Gojo again his head was turned in your direction, and you knew he’d been watching you the whole time. You could feel it. Tipping the corner of your mouth up at him you lifted a hand up and threaded it into the stranger’s hair.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” You let him press wet kisses into your skin, your eyes stuck on Gojo, your hips still moving against the stranger. Your brain streamlined on your ex, you got to a dazed place where the hands on your body were Gojo’s, and so were the lips pressing heated kisses only stopping to harshly nip at your skin. Your eyes fluttered at the thought and when you gained your focus again Gojo was gone.

“Fuck off.” A voice growled to your left, a hand grabbing at the wrist that was pulling at strands of hair.

“Excuse me-” The guy was cut off as Gojo yanked you into his chest. His glasses slid down his nose as he glared at the other man.

“Gojo what the fuck.” You struggled against his grip, but his hold was strong, and he took you through the crowd towards the restroom, your body pulled into his chest the entire way. Once inside the bathroom, he pushed you towards the sink and mirror and turned to lock the door behind him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You asked. He didn’t say anything, your words hung heavy in the air as he stared at you. His gaze was heavy, his blue eyes peering at you. The only movement was him taking his glasses off, he tucked them into his back pocket and took you in. Trailing his eyes over your body, heat trailing everywhere he looked.

You narrowed your eyes at him and scoffed.

“Let me out Gojo.” You said motioning for him to move from the door.

“You know,” he started and took a step towards you, “three months, four months a year. Baby get it through your head. You are mine.”

His voice was low, rubbing against your heart pulling at your sanity and causing a deep rage to crawl over you.

“You broke up with me!” You yelled.

“And I regret it.” Gojo said, “And that only confirms how much I need you. How much you own me.”

“No, fuck that and fuck you.” You said and moved to shove him out of the way so you could leave. He grabbed both your wrist as you tried to shove him and spun you into the door. Your back hit it hard as Gojo crowded into you, your arms pinned on both sides of your head by his hands, his lips on yours in an instant.

The kiss was deep, heavy, and angry. You bit at his lip, and he moaned into your mouth. His tongue met yours and you pushed back with the same fervour he displayed. You were going to implode, his touch, his mouth was too much. You knew, ever since that day in the hallway when he grabbed your wrist, you’d known. If he touched you again it would be too much. He knew it too.

You moaned against him as he moved his thigh between your legs, your body had been rocking against his as you kissed. You felt a sense of needing to run as you moved against him but the feeling left, overwhelmed by Gojo.

“I broke up with you because I’m an idiot,” He muttered his lips still touching yours. Your eyes were closed, and your breathing shallow, your hips still rocking ever so slightly against him, but you let him talk. “One more chance, please.”

“The great Gojo Satoru begging.” You whispered back.

“For you. Yes.” He didn’t even sound ashamed. Just desperate. You relented and kissed him again. He let go of your wrists, letting his fingers tangle into your hair. Your own hands went around him, pulling at the soft strands at his neck as you got lost in him. It was familiar and good, you’d wanted this so bad. Would it be so bad to give him another chance?

Your hands left his hair and trailed down his torso and up his shirt pushing it up as you felt the ridges of his abs letting your nails dig into the hard muscle. Gojo hissed into your mouth but didn’t stop you. So, you kept moving your hands, lower this time, fingers brushing his skin as you went. Your fingers stopped at his waistband, he sucked on your tongue lightly as you both waited to see if you would do it. It didn’t take you long to decide, yes you would.

Your fingers moved to undo his pants and grab at his erection. You pulled away from his mouth and looked down, the skin of his cock was heated, and the head was swollen and red, you licked your lips as you skimmed your thumb over the slit. Gojo hissed again before letting out a soft moan as you did it again. You brought your hand to your mouth spitting into it before palming him, moving your hand against his heated skin, watching his face as he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against yours.

“I don’t deserve this.” He muttered.

“No.” you muttered, “you don’t.” But he was still getting it, he was still getting you, that thought pushed him to move, his hand pushing up your shirt and bra palming your boob before flicking at your nipple. You sucked in a breath at the action but kept your hand moving on him. He lowered his head and took your nipple into his mouth sucking on you before biting at it. You let your head fall back against the door as Gojo worked your nipple. Your hips still grinding into his thigh, and your hand still working his cock.

“Satoru,” You moaned, eye fluttering shut.

“Satoru,” He muttered back forcing your eyes to open and look at him. He was peering up at you with a cocky grin on his face, his mouth red from sucking on you. But you were beyond yourself to be mad at it, yeah you moaned his name, his first name, so what?

“I need your fingers.”

“Happily.” He answered, and let his fingers run down your quivering stomach to the band of your pants, he quickly undid them and instantly his fingers were on you. Two fingers circled your clit heating your blood further, you were arching against the door, he took your nipple back into his mouth forcing your hand to hesitate on his cock as he worked you.

You moaned his name softly again before saying “More.” He brought his head back up to yours pressing your lips into a wet kiss as he sank two fingers into you. You sucked in a breath as he began to pump his fingers. His lips moved against yours forcefully as he picked up his pace, your hand stilling on his cock as he did so. He grabbed your hand intertwining his fingers and pulled it away from him letting you focus on your pleasure as he fucked you with his fingers.

A heated bundle of energy built up in the pit of your stomach moving down as Gojo added another finger stretching you further, pulling louder moans from you as he did.

“Satoru, I’m going to cum.” You mumbled into his lips.

“Then come baby.” He muttered back, curling his fingers into your g-spot, and finally tipping you over. You saw white as you arched into his chest further, your nipples rubbing into his chest, your head rolling to the side allowing Gojo to dip his head into the crook of your neck and suck on your heated skin. His fingers worked you through your orgasm prolonging the intense heat that coursed through you until you were panting against him, your hands shaking, and your mind muddled.

“The sounds you make are mine, the face you make is mine, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.” He said this lowly, his head dipping so that his eyes were locked with yours, “Proving to you that you own me as much as I own you.” He finished it off by pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth as he pulled his fingers from you. “Turn around babe.”

You listened and spun in his hold, your back arching so that your ass was against his groin instantly. His left hand coming up beside your head on the door, and his right holding tightly onto your waist.

“Let’s take these off.” He said and pushed at your pants, you helped him get rid of your pants and underwear, “Are you ready for me pretty girl?”

You nodded, your breath shallow still, your skin heated and your brain stuck on all things Gojo Satoru. He pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck as he brought his cock to move through your folds. You mewled when his cock head passed over your sensitive clit.

“Fuck, I don’t have a condom.” He groaned, “I wasn- this isn’t how I wanted this to-” He stumbled over his words his head bowed into your shoulder. His hips were still moving against you though, his cock still dragging through your wet folds.

“It’s okay, I’ve still got my IUD.” You let your arm turn over his head, your hand digging into his hair so that you could pull his head to yours. “Fuck me Satoru.” You whispered, your lips grazing the side of his mouth. He groaned and lined up his cock with your entrance.

“Every day baby. You’ve owned me every day since I’ve met you. I’m sorry I’m such an idiot.” He said this as he slowly sank into you, every word hitting something deep inside you as he bottomed out. You only managed to moan his name.

“I know.” He mumbled before kissing you again and began to slowly pump into you. Every single one of your senses was filled with him, you were living and breathing Gojo at that moment as he moved against you, his cock dragging against your fluttering walls. His moans filled your ears mixing with yours, joining the sloppy sound of his skin slapping against yours.

You couldn’t think properly as he moved his hand from your waist to your mouth, slipping in past your lips. You sucked on them moaning as you did, when he pulled them from your mouth a strand of spit still connected you to his fingers. He darted down to your clit deftly moving the two fingers over it to draw you closer to your second orgasm.

“Cum baby. Cum with me.” He breathed. Overwhelmed, you came. Breaking apart on his throbbing cock, you spasmed in his hold, his other hand leaving the door to gather you against his chest as he continued to fuck you through the orgasm his fingers still moving against your clit. His name repeatedly fell from your lips as you saw white sparks floating around your vision, your entire body heated and spent. He followed soon after, finishing inside you with your name on his lips.

“Prove it Satoru. Don’t fuck me over this time.” You said through heavy breaths.

“I won’t”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You smiled as you both took your time calming down and getting back to reality.

~hxt1b, feb 11 2024

532 notes · View notes

beepboopkek · 3 months

Text

— Practice makes perfect (F!Reader)

Including: Dr.Ratio x AFAB!Reader amab version has been posted! cw: !! NSFW !!, afab!reader, established relationship, pwp but barely, you call him veritas, cl1t slapp1ng, 0rga$m d3n1al, c0ckwarm1ng, dr is kinda mean, light degradation , kind of left at a cliffhanger?? idk, a little short, reader is doing math w/c: 1.2k a/n: HELLO IM BACK WITH ANOTHER DRABBLE first time writing for someone other than Jing Yuan so sorry if its not that good ue ue ue im still learning </3 anywyas i somehow got to a 100 followers which is both exciting and concerning but yeag hope u guys like this :3 <3 NSFW BELOW THE CUT

“This simply won't do.”

Your boyfriend huffed in annoyance as your shaking hands continued to—(or well, at least tried to)— do the calculations for the question that shined brightly on the tablet resting on the table.

You couldn't decide whether to be mad at him or yourself for the predicament you were in currently.

— Sat prettily on his lap, your feet barely touching the ground and his cock snugly kept to the hilt within the confines of your pussy.

You exhaled shakily, your body shuddering as his fingers that were previously stimulating your clit were now simply resting atop it.

“Another mistake. How disappointing, I excused the last one but, you really are testing my limits now.”

His head was over your shoulder as he tutted and eyed the screen, watching every move you made and deducing what was correct and what was not.

“Maybe, if you'd let me focus I could—”

– and suddenly, he raised his hand and landed a quick slap right on your clit.

Your body jerked in response as your words got cut off with a gasp.

The doctor's hand came back to rest on your clit, tapping it gently to soothe the pain from the slap. His other hand that was wrapped around your waist gripped you tightly as he leaned forward, pushing his cock at a deeper angle.

“If I hear another one of your remarks, things won't end well for you. Now, focus.”

You exhaled loudly in frustration as you forced your attention back onto the question, lifting the pen and continuing your calculations.

The both of you had been together for several years now, graduating from The University of Veritas Prime together— Your intellect was almost on par with his.

However, what you were doing now, though, was quite… questionable.

See, unlike him, you preferred the simpler life of teaching at a university. Getting into a guild or something of that sort had never really interested you. But, your boyfriend being… Well, The Veritas Ratio— he had his ways of convincing you to at least work on your mathematical skills to improve further the chances of you getting invited to the Intelligentsia Guild from the IPC.

So, he offered a simple solution.

Tutoring. One-on-one, of course.

… Which snapped you back to the current situation- you were dripping onto the chair on which the two of you were seated. The hard planes of his torso snug against your back.

“Another mistake.” His voice was low in your ear and you could almost feel the annoyance dripping from those words alone.

Fuck. You hadn't even registered what you were writing, your brain growing increasingly fuzzy with the way his cock pressed into all your sensitive spots.

He placed another slap on your clit, your body jerking in response as your pussy clenched around his cock.

“Start counting, Let's see how long you can keep up, hm?”

“V—Veritas, do I really have to do t—”

Your body jerked as he landed another slap to your already tender clit.

“Address me properly.”

“Fuck— I'm sorry–”

You swallowed down your complaints, knowing it would result in only more punishment if you continued.

“That— that was three.”

Veritas smiled against your shoulder before pressing your hips into his and moving you just a little bit… but nowhere near enough. He kissed the shell of your heated ear,

“That's my girl, I knew you could do it.”

You moaned lightly as he drew circles on your frayed clit before giving it a gentle pinch and then taking away the stimulation altogether— Your heated body simmering down into a somewhat uncomfortable yet pleasurable state.

“Come on now, let's continue. You still have the whole test left.”

You nodded shakily as you lifted the long-forgotten pen and started writing on the tablet.

This was the fourteenth question, sixteen more to go.

You managed to distract yourself enough to finish the question, The only sounds in the room were the quick taps from your pen and the occasional embarrassingly loud squelching noise from you that came as a result of Veritas moving to get more comfortable. As you finished, you waited with bated breath in hopes that he would say something.

“Is it—is it correct?”

Your boyfriend smiled before uttering a yes and leaning his head forward to kiss your cheek gently.

“Not bad… five points. So, you can be good for me, hm?”

Before you could respond, he spoke up again, “Complete the fifteenth question correctly and I'll consider letting you have an orgasm. How does that sound?”

“Please—”

A small pinch to your clit.

“It was a rhetorical question. Continue.”

You nodded numbly as you willed every fiber in your brain to focus on the question.

Just as you were about to finish the last bit of the question you felt your boyfriend slowly beginning to massage your clit again, his lips attaching to your shoulder and neck— biting, kissing and licking as he pleased.

“Veritas— Aeons– Let me finish this, please.”

You realised your mistake a second too late, though.

Another slap, accompanied by a loud gasp escaped your mouth as you dropped the pen onto the table, your feet flexing as you processed the sudden mix of sensations that went through you.

“Count.”

Yep, you've just about crossed his limit.

“Four.”

You steadied your breathing again.

A few beats of silence pass by and you finally finish the fifteenth question. Your breathing picked up again as you awaited Veritas’ next move.

“Half an hour. That's how long you took to finish fifteen simple arithmetic questions.”

He did not sound happy.

Before you could defend yourself, He grabbed you by the waist and stood up, setting your upper body on the table as the digital tablet dissipated.

Your feet were off the ground at this angle, meaning that his strength was the only thing keeping you steady on the table.

Veritas pushed himself deeper inside you as you arched your back, draping his larger frame over yours as he leaned down to talk right next to your ear.

“What would people think, hm? An esteemed professor with seven doctoral degrees reduced to a slobbering mess because of me?”

You only whined in response, your brain had long turned into mush— unable to comprehend anything but him.

Neither you nor Veritas knew how you held on that long.

“Please— Sir– I did what you asked me to do.”

“I asked you to do 30 questions within half an hour. You managed only half of that.”

His voice was neither stern nor soft— just somewhere in between that you could only describe as– Veritas.

“I suppose, though, I did promise you that I'd consider granting you relief.”

Your face lit up at the thought of finally, finally getting your orgasm— The one that you had been denied for the past thirty minutes.

“Oh, such an adorable expression,”

He gathered both your hands and pinned them on your lower back, gripping them with one of his own. Veritas drew his hips back and thrust back in, moving you and the table ahead.

You moaned at the burst of pleasure, finally— “Tell me the answer to number sixteen.” Shallow thrusts that were just shy of where you were most sensitive. Asshole.You took deep breaths. “I don’t— fuck- know the question—” The digital tablet reappeared in front of you, the question glaring back at you as you whined pathetically. You felt the hand on your hip moving down to squeeze the swell of your ass. It was a warning.

Veritas planted his free hand into your hair and tugs, pulling your head back in a firm grip. “Answer me.”… Maybe accepting his offer wasn’t a good idea.

#dr ratio smut #dr ratio x reader #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #afab reader #veritas ratio smut

703 notes · View notes

dyaz-stories · 6 days

Text

don't get cut on my edges || gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: Gojo is easily bored, you're the latest enigma that's caught his interest. He sets off in trying to figure you out. Lucky for him, you're coming on the week-end trip Shoko's planned for the week-end.

“Was I off script?”

You look up at him.

“You’re always off script.”

word count: 5.4k

genre: college!AU, fluff, slice of life

cw: unresolved sexual and romantic tension, reader has anxiety and is socially awkward, she/her is used for the reader, a little suggestive, overall very sweet and fluffy

a/n: this was fun to write! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy my writing here :)

soundtrack

Gojo knows that people talk, knows that they talk shit, knows that there isn’t a soul on campus that doesn’t have an opinion on him. He can tell that eyes follow him around when he walks into a room, that his presence is enough to shift the atmosphere at a gathering, that some people roll their eyes at him while others try their best to catch his attention. It’s a lot to take in, for just one person.

Fortunately, he’s proved to be incredibly gifted in the art of not giving a fuck.

Then again, he’s incredibly gifted in most areas of life. Truth be told, he thinks people aren’t giving him enough credit for that. Sure, they tend to know that he’s a physics major, but that’s just tangential to what they know about the rest of him. He’s not just kinda good at physics, not some dude that goes to college mostly for the parties and then get a meaningless job at daddy’s company, no, he’s the fucking best, and he works fucking hard to be able to claim that title.

But that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of him, and at the end of the day, who cares? He certainly doesn’t.

With all that, it’s not statistically unlikely for him to catch people talking about him.

Well, he’d have to conduct a detailed study to calculate the exact odds, but with how much alcohol is in his blood at this very moment, it makes sense to him that it would happen.

Still, for people to be talking about him at a party he is at, in front of an open window, you’d think they would have some sense of shame. Not that he has any room to talk, because shame is not part of his vocabulary, but like. Come on.

“Gojo really can’t take not being in the spotlight for more than ten seconds, huh?”

That voice, he’s quick to identify, even if he can’t see her face from where’s he’s standing under the porch, belongs to Mei Mei. Aw. Bummer. They’d spent quite a lot of time around each other, have friends in common, slept— Wait, have they slept together? He can’t say for sure anymore. It seems to have slipped from his mind. Oops. Maybe that’s why he’s getting that treatment. Maybe he deserves it.

There’s a scoff, and really, the acoustic of this place are impressive. It feels like he’s straight in the room with those people.

“What else do you expect from someone who’s always had everything served to him on a silver platter?”

And that would be Noritoshi Kamo. Man. That was one of the few kids in the families his parents insisted on frequenting. They used to be sat next to each other at the kiddie table while the adults talked about the important stuff. They never had much in common — not then, not now. And, after all, maybe Noritoshi has a point, after all. His mother wasn’t a mistress, wasn’t turned into an outcast, and he’s never had to pretend he didn’t hear the loud whispers that tarnished her name. Yeah. Sounds like these two aren’t saying anything new after all. Not that he’s gonna change, y’know, but he already knows who he is, and he is all that.

“That seems like a very mean thing to say about a friend,” a quiet voice comments.

The world freezes.

A silhouette appears to go along with the voice, then a blurry face, then the picture becomes clearer. A figure sitting next to Shoko, giving him sweet, polite smiles when he approaches. Not chatty, kinda shy, pretty cute. Would get quiet when he was near, though, so he hadn’t paid a ton of attention. He’s used to giving it to people who asked for it, who wanted it.

You’d never asked.

But you’re… not wrong. He’s not sure why he hadn’t picked up on it himself. It is a mean thing to say.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Mei Mei protests, “I love Gojo, but you know I’m right about this.”

“Yeah, and I’ve known him my whole life,” Kamo adds. “It’s just a fact, we’re not talking shit.”

There’s a silence. Gojo’s invested now.

“I don’t know him that well,” you say. “Like I said. It’s just a mean thing to say about someone you hang out with every day.”

“Come on, don’t act like—”

“I think I’m going to go, actually,” you say. “This feels super shitty.”

“What the fuck was that?” Mei Mei laughs, just a second later — presumably after you’ve left the room.

“She wants to fuck him, I guess,” Kamo says.

Well, you’re making one hell of a headway then, because he’d do you so hard after that.

When he walks back in, you’re chatting with Shoko. You give him your usual, close-lipped smile, don’t quite make eye-contact. If you’re trying to get in his pants, you have a very original way of getting it done.

“Who was your friend again?” he asks Shoko, later that night. She answers without looking up from her phone.

“She doesn’t talk much when there are new people around,” she warns him. “Leave her alone.”

“When have I ever bothered anyone—”

She reaches to smack the back of his head, misses and gets the nape of his neck — that’s the downside about being so tall, there’s just a lot of him to hit.

“Don’t make her uncomfortable. That’s all I’m asking.”

He wasn’t planning on that. He’s just— curious. Intrigued.

It’s unlikely to last, though. He’s been known to get bored easily.

You’re already in the car when he gets in. Well, okay, when he gets shoved inside by Todo, despite his protests that his legs are too long for the backseat. You’ve squeezed yourself in the middle seat, with Shoko on one side, and him on the other now. There’s a bag of snacks in your lap, yet you still try to shift yourself to give him a little more room. It doesn’t help at all, but in your defense, the only thing that could help would be to buy a new car.

“Is everyone ready?” Suguru asks as he adjusts the rearview mirror.

“Sure,” Shoko says.

“Let’s go!” Todo shouts.

“No,” Gojo whines.

“Yeah,” you say, completely drowned out under the rest.

“Good,” Suguru hums as he starts the engine.

Gojo pouts, but he doesn’t insist. Well, he doesn’t make any more of a scene than he already has. Truth be told, he could have taken Todo — dude might be all brute force, but Gojo has brains and brawns, thank you very much.

But he’s curious, still, and he hasn’t been given enough information to quite satiate his curiosity. Everything he’s gathered about you says that you mind your business and keep to your corner.

So why did you say that to Mei Mei and Kamo? It makes no sense, but Gojo’s never met an equation he couldn’t solve.

That’s an overstatement. Obviously there are equations he can’t solve. Yet. He’s sure he’d figure it out eventually. Like he’ll figure you out. See? That metaphor does make sense.

Suguru’s music is playing in the car. The sun is still low in the sky, the day is quickly getting warmer, and the phone says that they’ll be at the beach in two hours.

Satoru closes his eyes. Fun fact about him? He can fall asleep anywhere he wants to.

He wakes up with his face smooshed against the window, a hand tapping his shoulder carefully.

“We’re here,” you say, giving him a smile and then shuffling to leave the car from the other side.

Todo’s already running towards the beach, while Suguru and Shoko are getting the bags out of the trunk. Somehow, Shoko manages to sling a bag over his shoulder, but he takes off before she can stuff the cool box containing all the drinks in his arms.

He then lies to Todo to get him back to the car, so that he can carry the damn thing. Shoko better thank him later for that.

He catches up with you, and he sees your eyes widen a little when he approaches, as you visibly search for something to say. He can’t resist the temptation to shoot you a grin. There’s a light breeze in the air, but he won’t be fooled that easily — with his skin, he’s going to need an insane amount of sunscreen, if he wants to survive the day. Which makes him think, actually—

“Wanna help me apply sunscreen?” he asks.

“Huh?” you say.

He leans towards you, looks into your eyes from over his sunglasses. You appear to be fully frozen in place, only swallowing once as he gets closer. His grin gets wider as he takes in all of you, and he’s once more fascinated by the idea that you had been able to say something to Mei Mei and Kamo but you can barely face him.

His gaze drops to your parted lips.

Then the bottle of sunscreen smashes against his cheek with impressive precision.

“Todo can help you put that on!” Shoko offers as Suguru starts setting up a parasol. “Right, Todo?”

“Of course I will, my brother,” Todo say as he appears, but by then, Satoru has already started running for his life.

“Just kick him in the balls if he pulls something like that again,” Shoko says.

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you reply, shaking your head in mild horror. “I just— I don’t— know— how to react sometimes. But he doesn’t bother me.”

That statement has her raising an eyebrow at you, filled with doubt, but she doesn’t insist.

“Play nice,” she does warn Satoru once more, later on. “Don’t push it too much.”

“Aw, Shoko, are you saying you wouldn’t approve of me?”

“Do whatever you want to,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “but give her more space. She’s not used to you being… you.”

Satoru rests his chin on his knee. He’s taking refuge under the parasol for now, and you’re already in the waves with Todo and Suguru. You seem comfortable with Todo, laughing at something he said, less so with Suguru. It all looks like a lot of work, all to satiate his curiosity. He’s all about committing to the bit but— he doesn’t know about that one.

This, too, all this thinking and questioning, is a lot of work, though, so he ends up shrugging it off.

“Are we getting in or what?”

“Absolutely not. No— Gojo— Don’t you fucking dare— Gojo!”

Shoko’s full-on shrieking by the time he throws her in the water. You burst out laughing. She comes out screaming for revenge, and Gojo starts scampering around to try and avoid her.

The sun is high in the sky, there’s a light breeze.

The time is good.

“Satoru!” Suguru calls when the watch on his wrist starts beeping, “it’s been two hours!”

It takes a second for the information to reach his brain, but the second he understands it, Gojo’s sprinting back towards the parasol at full speed. You look up, surprised, from the towel on which you’re lying with a book. Shoko doesn’t even bother with lifting an eyelid to see what’s going on.

“You okay?” you ask.

Ah, so she does speak.

“Yeah,” Gojo says, ruffling through a bag. “Just need to reapply some sunscreen. I’m not trying to look like a lobster.”

“Oh,” you say, “so, did you want me to help you with that?”

His fingers finally close around the bottle, and he stills to look at you. Shit. He’s curious again. Shoko’s words are swirling around in his mind, though, and he has no interest in forcing your hand.

“You didn’t look like you wanted to do that,” he says with uncharacteristic caution.

You roll your lips together, glance away from him, and your hand curls into a fist in the sand.

“No, it’s just— Um, I’m sorry about earlier. You— caught me off guard, I guess. I couldn’t figure out what to answer.”

“I usually just go with whatever appears through my head first,” he shrugs as he comes to crouch in front of you — you in the sun, him in the shade.

You laugh softly, but you avert your eyes, focusing on the sand as you trace patterns in it.

“Yeah, I think that’s the preferred method, but it— doesn’t— really work for me. So I have— I have a script, kind of, for interactions.”

“And I was off script?”

You glance back up at him.

“You’re always off script.”

For a moment, he just looks into your eyes, and you look back without any of that earlier nervousness. Then you shrink back into yourself, and the smile that so rarely leaves your lips reappears, like a shield that comes back up.

“Sorry. I know— I know how silly this sounds. I also wish I didn’t feel the need to do that, I just, um—”

“All good,” he replies with a shrug. “Sure. Help me with that.”

He throws you the bottle and you miss it, and he can feel you eyerolling at his back without needing to turn around, but when he shoots you a grin from over his shoulder, he can see how your breath catches in your throat.

Softly, your hand goes over his back, your touch gentle and cautious. It feels quite nice, actually, especially when your nails brush over his skin.

“It’s not too cold?” you ask.

“All good,” he repeats.

Shit. He’s invested again.

“Okay, we have the tickets, we have the water bottles, we have the hats, we have flat shoes, we have Gojo, we have the car keys—”

“I’m sorry, why was I just in the middle of a list of belongings?”

“We have cellphones and portable batteries… I think we’re good,” Shoko concludes, fully ignoring him.

“You don’t think we’re just a touch overprepared?” Suguru asks.

“You can never overprepare, my brother,” Todo says, grabbing his shoulder firmly. “If you want to triumph in the face of adversity, you need to know everything about the enemy.”

Suguru opens his mouth, closes it again. He knows how to pick his battles.

Gojo doesn’t.

“We’re going to a festival, not trying to breech the Pentagon,” he deadpans, and then, from the corner of his eye, he tries to see if you’re laughing. He delights in how you lower your head and try to keep it discreet.

“You never know what—”

“If I have to hear a second more of this nonsense, I swear to God I’ll kill someone here,” Shoko announces cheerfully. “Let’s move.”

Finally, after a good fifteen minutes by the door of the Airbnb you’ve all spent the night in, you start moving.

The good news is that you don’t have to get in the car, in the smothering heat, to get on the overcrowded streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. The bad news is that you have to walk there, in the smothering heat, near the streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. Suguru’s in charge of the map, which everyone seems happy with. Gojo had offered to do it, too, and there’s not a shred of doubt that he’d be able to read it competently, but Shoko had insisted the risk of him taking everyone to the wrong place ‘just because it would be funny’ was too high.

She’d been right but like, that was still rude.

The march in the heat and the waiting in line, while painful and unpleasant, as Gojo makes sure everyone around him is well aware of, go pretty smooth. Everything is planned and accounted for. There’s a game plan once they make it into the festival, too, because of course there is, but that’s when things start going south. First, Todo tries to go rogue when he spots someone wearing Takada merch. She’s not performing here, but he’s heard rumors that there would be a stand for her, and he lurches towards the woman. He’d get lost in the crowd immediately if not for Gojo’s lightning fast reflexes.

Unfortunately, soon enough it’s Gojo’s turn to get distracted. What can he say, there’s the smell of sugar in the air, and he needs to know where it’s coming from. Suguru’s the one to get him back on track, as they all head towards the main stage. Because that’s what Shoko’s grand plan leads to: sweet, sweet, close-up spots to watch the Sorcerers, headliners for the festival and also unarguably greatest band of all times, with minimum wait before their show.

There are a couple other close calls, but the group manages to get close enough to the stage. There are people here already, but they’re here for other artists mostly, and they’ll no doubt move quite a bit before the start of the real show. From where they are, even you and Shoko will be able to— Wait a minute.

“Huh,” Gojo say. “Hey, Shoko, do you happen to see (y/n) around?”

“If you can’t see her from up there, why would you think I— Fuck.”

“A fallen soldier,” Todo sighs somberly. “Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for—"

“We should go get her,” Shoko interrupts him. She’s biting her lower lip, staring at her phone. She looks quite worried, Gojo notices as he stares at her.

“Why isn’t it enough to just text her?” Gojo asks. It’s not ideal, and it won’t be easy to find the group in the middle of this sea of people, but it’s not impossible.

“I just— I don’t know if she’ll want to deal with all that” she gestures at the crowd “alone. I’m afraid she’ll say she doesn’t mind and then she won’t have a good time.”

Gojo tilts his head. It wouldn’t cross his mind to say something he doesn’t mean. It’s an incredibly weird thought, actually. But Shoko’s better than him at, well, people, and she might have a point. He also doesn’t want you to have a bad time, after all. With one last glance at the stage, he nods at her.

“I’ll go get her.”

“Are you sure?” Suguru asks. “I can go, if you want me to. It’s your band.”

As if it isn’t his, too. But Gojo shrugs. His attention span is fleeting, and he’s got his sights on something else right now.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll make it back.”

“Thanks,” Shoko says sincerely.

He waves vaguely at her before making his way back through the crowd, earning his fair share of nasty glances. He still doesn’t care.

A few minutes later, he receives a text from Shoko with a screengrab where you say you’re getting something to eat. Sure enough, he has no trouble finding you waiting in line. You’re typing on your phone, not paying attention to your surroundings, and he’s grinning already. He lets himself half fall on you, arm wrapping around your body as he drops his chin onto your shoulder. You jump, glancing back bewildered, but you don’t stay tense long once you see it’s him.

Which makes him feel things, actually, but he’ll unpack that later.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, brow furrowing. “I thought you guys would be in front of the stage by now.”

“I came to rescue the princess, obviously,” he says, and you laugh. You laugh a lot when he talks, instead of rolling your eyes like people usually do.

Maybe you’re a bit too good of an audience.

“I don’t need rescuing, Gojo,” you answer, and it’s interesting how calm your voice is. “It’s packed too tight for me in here. I told Shoko but…” You shrug. “It’s not always easy to understand how it is. For me.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t get it at all.”

Your shoulder’s pretty comfortable, though. And you haven’t tried to get him off of you yet.

“Do you want to order something, too?” you ask, pointing at the food stand. They sell waffles, and just the smell has his mouth watering. “Strawberries and whipped cream, right?”

Gojo pauses.

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it. A few times, actually.”

He’s sure he has, but—

“You were listening to that?”

You blink at him. He realizes how close your face is, with his head on your shoulder.

“Of course I was. You were talking.”

“Shoko didn’t tell you? It’s like, rule number one of being around me, don’t listen to the stuff I say. There’s a lot of dumb shit in there.”

You tilt your head, looking kind of confused.

“I still want to hear what you’re saying.”

Something inside him feels warm all of a sudden. Very warm.

“Yeah,” he says, but his throat is tight. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”

When you step forward to they can take your order, he begrudgingly gets off your shoulder, which allows him to swipe his card before you can get to it.

“I had that,” you protest while he bites into the insane amount of whipped cream in his waffle — he asked for more until the guy behind the counter looked like he was going to murder him.

“I had it first,” he says, and then he sticks his tongue out at you. He anticipates your laugh this time, finds himself waiting on it. When it comes, it sounds just like he wanted it to.

For a while, the two of you sit on a fence. You hand him a water bottle, say that he needs to stay hydrated. With no one else around, you don’t seem to have such a hard time speaking. You’re so quiet when everyone’s there and, well, him and Todo take up a lot of space, when it comes to conversation. Neither Suguru nor Shoko struggle with making their voices heard either, and in the middle of all that, you tend to stay silent. Apparently, that doesn’t stop you from listening.

“Shouldn’t you be going back?” you ask, after a while.

Gojo tilts his head as he thinks about it.

“Nah, I’m good. Let’s find some place where you can enjoy the show.”

“You don’t have to—”

A grin, and then he’s jumping from the fence to come stand in front of you. Even like that, he doesn’t have to look up to meet your eyes.

“And how d’you plan on stopping me?”

Your eyes go wide. He can almost hear your heart racing, and he thinks he’s starting to get a little too high on that feeling. It’s just so easy, so fun, so delicious.

“Okay,” you squeak, averting your eyes and jumping down after him, clearly trying to hide your reaction. “Okay, I’m coming.”

When you start walking by his side, grabbing your hand is just too easy not to do it.

“Wouldn’t want you to run away again,” is what he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Now you’re stuck with me.”

You still refuse to look at him, but there is no actual discomfort in your reaction, just what he thinks is uncertainty about how you’re supposed to behave now.

“Have I gone off script again?” he practically purrs.

You glance up, a flash of amusement on your face. Lots of fondness, too, and this time he’s the one who gets caught up in it.

“You haven’t been on script once today.”

“Good,” he says, managing to pass off the emotion that just choked him for a second there as impatience. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

“I’m always on my toes,” you mumble behind him, but you can’t explain to him what anxiety feels like, so you just let him drag you away. His fingers are long, his hand engulfs yours easily. You like the feeling of it more than you should.

Your eyes are on Gojo’s broad back as he pulls you through the crowd, which parts effortlessly for him. You’re enjoying this.

You don’t think it’s going to last.

Gojo doesn’t think about that though, just like he rarely thinks about tomorrows. What he’s thinking about, as he keeps far, far away from the stage, is how to find a place with enough air around for the two of you. It’s easy for him to get a good look at the stage, and he earns his fair share of pissed off glares — “Seriously, it should be illegal to come to an open-air stage when you’re that tall” — but it takes more work to get the perfect space for you. Finally, his eagle eyes figure out some place that’s just perfect, and he beelines for it with you in tow.

“There,” he says, pulling you in front of him and putting his head on top of yours, just to check that the line of sight is good enough.

Ha. He nailed it.

“Thanks,” you say. There’s surprise in your tone.

“Is this a good spot for you?” he checks, but really, he just wants to hear you praise him?

“It is, but— I thought you said you didn’t get it? My—” You gesture vaguely. “—struggle. With all that stuff.”

Oh right. You actually listen to what he says. He needs to keep that in mind for the future.

“Does it matter?” he asks with a shrug.

You stare. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, and then the crowd starts absolutely howling and you spin around to see the Sorcerersget on the stage. Whatever moment there was there, is forgotten right away. He sees you fish in your bag for your phone, then raise it over your head and tiptoe around, trying to get a good photo.

It’s cute, it’s adorable even, but it’s not very efficient.

“Do you want some help here?” he asks, leaning close to your ear so you can hear him over all the noise.

Your body shivers into him, and he files that away for later.

“Um, yeah,” you shout over the noise. “Here, could you—”

But he pays no attention to the way you offer him your cellphone, and instead he’s bending down, and ignoring your surprised protest as he pushes his head between your legs.

He bench presses a hell of a lot more than he looks like he does, for the record.

With a grunt, he manages to get you up on his shoulders, and some people behind him complain loudly, but whatever, they can wait for you to get the perfect picture. You struggle to stabilize yourself for a dangerous second, and then you stop moving around for a second. Your thighs are supple and warm under his hands and around his head.

One more thing to remember.

“I’m good, I’m good, get me down,” you say quickly, just as he’s storing the thought away.

You seem relieved when your feet get back on the ground, and Satoru lets his hands linger on your waist.

“Was it a nice pic?” he asks. He knows he’s all red in the face, but he’s grinning so wide it almost hurts, actually.

“Perfect,” you squeak. “Thank you. Again.”

Aw. He’s going to get used to that word real quick.

A familiar guitar riff comes from the stage, and you turn away from him once more, but his hands are still on your waist. He uses that to pull you against him and this time, you don’t hesitate to let yourself lean back against him as the two of you move in rhythm with the music.

The concert is a blur after that. There’s a lot of singing, a lot of screaming, basically no time to catch a breath, because the Sorcerers are fucking beasts that don’t let up, not even for a second. At some point, you tell him something, but he can’t really hear, so you crane your neck back and he lowers his head. Your lips brush against his neck, an accident really, but it sends such a jolt of electricity through him, he thinks he’ll go into full overdrive.

The only thing that stops him from chasing after your lips immediately after that is Shoko’s voice, going around in his mind. ‘Don’t push it.’ What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

You move away, and he still has no clue what you were saying. If after that, his hands hold your hips a little tighter, if he pulls you a little closer, he can’t be blamed. If, during one of the more sulfurous song of the show, as you’re swaying against him, humming along to the song, his lips find your neck, he doesn’t want to hear about it.

When he presses a kiss right by your jaw, you turn to look at him. You’re pretty. He’s always thought you were pretty.

Fuck Shoko, he thinks, and he’s ready to put his mouth on yours, to slide his tongue between your parted lips that have looked so inviting this entire week-end, when the riff of the band’s most popular song starts playing, and he loses you attention once more.

Cock-blocked by his favorite band. Fuck his life.

When the song ends, there’s movement in the crowd as the band gets off the stage and people start chanting for an encore. In Shoko’s fool proof, perfect plan, this is when you’re supposed to start leaving. Gojo doesn’t want to — how is he supposed to do anything about how much he wants his mouth on you once you’re back with the other — but this time you grab his hand and pull him away from the stage and he has even less of a clue of what he’s supposed to do about that.

You get to the meeting point before Shoko, Todo and Suguru, which makes sense, considering you were much further from the stage than them. It’s a specific pole that Shoko had pointed to as you were first getting in, and the urge to push you against it and to taste your lips is strong. Gojo isn’t typically one to ignore that kind of feeling. He just goes for it, doesn’t let his brain get in the way too much. He’s not sure what it is with you and your doe eyes and your sweet smile that makes him act different.

Whatever it is, it makes him ask “Did you have a good time?” instead of kissing you senseless behind the pole while watching to make sure Shoko doesn’t catch him in the act.

“It was amazing,” you say. “I don’t think— I don’t think I’d have gotten that close without you.”

“Did I force your hand?” he asks, frowning.

“No, no, that was great, actually.” And there it comes, his favorite words, and then he’ll kiss you. “Thank—”

“There you guys are!”

You have got to be kidding him. The Gods of timing are so set against him, he must have done something to piss them off badly in another life.

“Okay, we should start heading towards the exit,” Shoko announces.

“Nah, we ‘re staying until the end,” Gojo says, burying his hands, balled into fists, in his pockets. He’s being needlessly belligerent, but whatever, she deserves it, whether she knows it or not.

“Don’t be a dick,” she glares.

He smiles at her. And he doesn’t budge.

“We’ll run,” you say, stepping in. “I’m sure we can still beat the crowd if we run.”

She narrows her eyes at you, then at Gojo.

“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”

So many delicious thoughts coming to him, and he can’t do anything about it. Damn it all.

Of course, it ends with the five of you sprinting on the lawn and all the way back to the house. Of course, he doesn’t catch five seconds with you after that. Of course, your face is on his mind the whole night.

Of course, because it’s just his luck, isn’t it, in the morning, Shoko tells him you had to catch a flight early in the morning.

“I told you, don’t you remember? She’s going back to her family for the summer.”

Of course, he doesn’t.

Ah, whatever. It bothers him for a minute, but then the day continues unfolding, and the sun’s warm, it’s the peak of summer, and he only really knew you for a couple of days. He’ll see how he feels about it when college starts up again in the fall. He’s not known for sticking with things, anyway. He’ll probably forget; you probably won’t capture him again like you did; it was probably a fluke.

That, or these will become famous last words.

sequel

thank you so much for reading! i had a ton of fun writing gojo's pov and i hope you enjoyed it too, even if i'm still finding his voice :) please reblog or comment if you've enjoyed this, i'd love to hear from you! getting readers' feedback on my writing is what keeps me motivated to write so if you'd like to read more from me, that's the way to do it!

tagging the people who expressed interest in this: @elidebrey @xstom @chosospookiebear @xmysticredx

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x you #my writing #gojo imagine #jjk imagine #jjk x y/n

209 notes · View notes

book-place · 1 year

Text

Sulking at the Gala

Warnings: none (I think), let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Batfamily x batsis!reader

Request: Heyyy!! I was thinking about batfam x batsis going to a gala and hanging out with the kids. She swears that she hates them, but she could never stay mad at a child for too long. Her brothers were kinda confused, because shy were you hanging out with little kids and not them? They were kinda jealous tbh. You'd be seen playing peekaboo with a baby or carrying them in the air like superman. Sorry if this made no sense, I wanted to keep it simple so you could kinda add/ change some things if you wanted to. Have a nice day!

Request by: Anon

*not my gif*

Summary: You absolutely hate going to galas. You’re always miserable during them… right?

A/N: I didn’t know how to end it so… I just ended it 😭😭

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

You pulled down on your dress with a grumble, a hard glare set on your face as you walked side by side with your family into the lavish building.

Bruce nudged your side with a glare, “Smile,” He urged desperately, “At least let the paparazzi get one picture of you being happy.”

Your own glare found its way to your fathers form, “I’ll smile when I’m back home in my bed, in my pajamas,” You hissed back.

It was no secret that you despised galas more than any of your other siblings, which is saying something. Not only did you hate the people there, but you also hated the fact that they always brought their kids. Kids were obnoxious and downright annoying. From what your family had gathered over the years, you had absolutely no tolerance for them.

When times came around that you were dragged kicking and screaming to a gala, you would sulk in the corner the entire time, glaring and snapping at any member of your family that tried to make you leave and interact with people.

“So, how much you wanna bet that Y/n sits down and doesn’t get up until this stupid party’s over?” Jason snickered, purposefully talking loud enough for you to overhear.

You marched over and punched him in the arm, not caring as Bruce chuckled nervously while glancing at the onlooking crowd. Dick and Tim laughed loudly as Jason scowled and rubbed the sore spot on his shoulder and even Damian smirked a little bit.

When you and your family finally surged through the sea of people at the door and were finally free to mill around, you automatically made a beeline to a corner table, snatching appetizers off trays as you went.

Your father sighed, running a tried hand down his face, “She can’t just try to enjoy one of these parties?” He groaned slightly.

Dick sighed, mockingly patting his shoulder comfortingly, “Guess she doesn’t find these nearly as exciting as you,”

He skipped off cackling with his brothers following closely on his heels, ignoring Bruce’s exhausted expression.

Your head snapped up when you felt someone tap you on the shoulder, ready to tell your brothers off, but instead, you were met with the sight of a young girl- about four years old- smiling up at you bashfully.

“Hi,” She whispered shyly.

“Hi,” You greeted back dumbly.

“What’s your name?” She began rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Y/n,” You hesitated, “What’s yours?”

She grinned, “Makayla!”

About an hour had passed dully as Dick, Jason, Tim, and Jason all lounged around a table near the dance floor, bored out of their minds.

“Look at him,” Jason scoffed, eying Bruce from across the room as he laughed loudly at what some random ceo had said, “He enjoys watching us be miserable.”

Tim sighed, dropping his head back, “Now I know why n/n makes such a big deal about these things.”

“Speaking of,” Dick piped up, “How do you think she’s doing?”

“L/n?” Damian suddenly stuttered out.

Tim looked over at him incredulously, “Yeah, who else?”

“No, I mean look at her,” The young boy insisted.

All at once, all of their heads snapped over in your direction and their jaws dropped open, gaping at you in complete shock.

You stood with a large group of children surrounding you ranging from the ages of three to eight, all of them either standing or sitting around while looking up at you in awe.

The large smile on your face made them nearly die of shock as they watched you spin around with a small child in your arms, who was giggling like crazy.

“What is she-“ Dick choked out.

“She’s…” Tim couldn’t even form a full thought.

You put the kid down and bent down near two younger children and began playing peekaboo with them, watching with a smile as they burst out into fits of laughter.

“But… she does not like spending time with us during these galas.” Damian spoke up with a small glare in the childrens directions.

“She’d rather hang out with kids then us?” Dick shrieked in horror.

“I never thought I’d see the day.”

All four boys snapped their attentions to an amused looking Bruce, who stood behind them and watched as you ticked a close by kids stomach.

“Why is she-“

“Who knows?” Bruce cut Tim off with a shrug, “But at least she’s not sulking anymore.”

The Superior Robin ❤️- @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @i-writes-things @ladyagagaslefttoe

2K notes · View notes

frankiewritesstories · 8 months

Text

Rainbow rose

Tw: hurt/comfort, my first fic with my FAV CHARACYER OMGHSGS LYNEYY, feel like this is kinda shit but oh well

You and Lyney have been dating for about a year now. It was like a dream come true. And as we all know, Lyney is (obviously) very flirty and a sweet talker. Though you may like it, it wasn't always a benefit for you.

Lyney's magic show at the opera house just ended. It was magical like always. You were talking to Lynette while waiting for Lyney - who had to do something at the back. You saw him coming back, but just as you were about to approach him, you stopped. Some girl approached him and started talking to him. You didn't mind.. at first. It was now near 10 minutes, and they are still talking.

You didn't mind....didn't....mind?

It seems Lyney performed a magic trick for her. You have just seen bits and parts of it, but it was enough for you to get an unsettling feeling in your stomach. He pulled a rainbow rose from behind her ear and smiled at her. Rainbow rose.... a flower that represents passion and romance. You knew Lyney wasn't dumb. He knew what that flower represents. Without much thought, you excused yourself from Lynette and went back home.

You were walking back home, lost in your thoughts. You loved Lyney, and you knew he loved you, but you told him multiple times-you don't feel comfortable with him being flirty with his audience. You wouldn't usually mind, but he even 'hangs out' with some of them. You know there are no romantic feelings present beetwen them, well, at least grom Lyney, but you can't help but get this weird ugly feeling once in a while. Ugh, what a joke... you though.... do my feelings mean nothing to him?

You were getting ready for your bed, but you realized you couldn't sleep. How annoying. You turned on the lights and decided to read a book. You were enjoying it until someone started knocking on your door. And then you heard his voice. No way.

"Y/N, hello? Are you okay? Where were you? I know you are in here, mon chérie." It was Lyney, of course

You weren't planning on opening the door. Oh he was inside now.

"Lyney? what the hell? What are you doing inside my house?" You can't say you didn't appreciate his..determination to see you.

"Hello, dear love! I couldn't help but notice you weren't there after my show. Where were you?"

"It doesn't matter, leave me alone"

"You know you can't hide from me, might as well tell me what's wrong, hm?" He tried to touch your face, but he knew something is wrong when you moved away.

"Fine, you know what is wrong? The fact you flirt with your audience every day in front of me, you even hang out with them even though you know what their intentions are!"

"Dear, that is a part of being a magician. I need to keep my audience entertained."

"You don't need to do all that! What if we were on a date and some guy approached me, asking me to 'hang out' and I accepted?!" You were getting mad now, he really didn't get it did he?

"Maybe you aren't the one for me." He froze, realisation of what he said hit him. "W-wait, no I-"

"Okay." You said. You started to walk around the house, collecting gifts he gave you throughout your relationship. He was following you like a lost puppy apologizing and asking what were you doing.

"Here you go, I'm giving these bac-" As you were turning around to give him these back, you were met with his arms instead.

"Please, don't do this. I-I know I was in the wrong...I promise I will change. I love only you, I just wanted to keep them entertained, I understand now how horrible it was of me. I can't lose you...please...don't leave me.." You knew how hard it was for Lyney to trust people and open up, and you knew even more how much he really loved you. You felt his hands shaking, and you heard the way his voice was shaking slightly. It was rare for Lyney to express his feelings like this.

"I forgive you, but dont break your promise" You said as you hugged him back, and you felt him hug you just a little tighter.

"Oh, what did I do to deserve you?" He said as he put cheem at the top of your head.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. You knew he had to go practice for his next show esrly in the morning so you didn't mind. You walked to the kitchen and found a bag of doughnuts with a note attached next to them.

Now you definitely forgive him.

#lyney x reader #genshin impact lyney #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #lyney fluff #lyney angst #fluff #angst #genshin fluff #genshin angst

468 notes · View notes

thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 2 months

Text

Like a lamb led to slaughter (my heart held in your hands)

carry me slowly, my sunlight (these colours, they fade for you only) - series masterlist here

pairing: damian wayne x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.7k

genre: fluff? angst? kinda hurt/comfort?

warnings: this is the enemies part of the enemies to lovers so they're kinda mean and hateful, reader pulls a knife on damian at the beginning but it's pretty chill, also angsty ending in this but future parts where they're together and in love are already up and in my masterlist <3

a/n: enjoy xoxo

Damian pauses, holding his breath as the knife that's been suddenly pressed against his throat gets pressed a little harder. The wind blows the sand around his feet gently and he listens, straining for a hint as to who his attacker is.

"Damian Al Ghul, caught by surprise… you're getting slow," your voice makes him relax - much to his annoyance, his jaw clenching as he exhales slowly. You pull the knife away from him, ignoring the small trickle of blood that runs down his neck as you stand in front of him.

"You shouldn't be here," he snaps harshly.

"Neither should you," you quip back.

"This is my -"

"For now," you interrupt, your grin wicked. "This war of ours isn't over yet, Al Ghul. I wouldn't claim the winning prize for yourself just yet - not when you're the one who's been caught off guard." Damian's fists clench, his eyes hard as he stares at you through the darkness of night, the stars dripping pinpricks of light onto the two of you.

"This is League territory. You are outcast. You're not welcome here, and neither are any of the others who follow you," he says viciously. You smile.

"So sure I won't beat you still," you say, a mocking edge in your voice that makes him huff. "So sure it'll be you leading the League one day, and not me."

Damian doesn't bite back, though. He opens his mouth to, but then seems to think better of it, opting instead to step away from you and plant himself on the sandy ground while the clouds part, the moon shining through. You think you hear him muttering, "why don't you just kill me and get it over with, then?"

You blink at his behaviour, following him cautiously and standing in front of him, blocking the light of the moon and shrouding him in darkness where he's sitting, knees pulled up to his chest.

"What's wrong with you?" You ask, toeing at his side with your shoe, jostling him slightly. He just clenches his fists tighter.

"You're blocking out the sky," he says bitterly. "And you stabbed me." You arch a brow.

"You're stargazing now? How novel. And I didn't stab you - don't be dramatic. It was just a little cut… you've given me worse," you point out.

"You deserve worse," he snaps. You straighten back and away from him, moving to let the light of the moon shine down on him as you sit next to him.

"You know I'd never kill you on a night like this," you say, a softness in your voice that makes you both queasy. You feel the weight of the knife in its sheath against your leg and press your hand to it. You could try to kill him - you probably should. God knows there are enough people waiting for you to.

"Not enough of an audience?" Damian says dryly. You kick a pile of sand near your foot.

"Why didn't you fight back? You could just as easily try to kill me tonight. But you wouldn't because we've been at this far too long to let it end in private… just the two of us." The end of your sentence is murmured, your eyes trained on his face while he stares up at the night sky. It takes him longer than you'd like for him to tear his gaze away from the full moon and look back at you, the light shining on one half of his face while the other now sits in shadow. You imagine you look much the same, half bathed in light, half shrouded.

"What do you think will happen?" His question finally cuts through the silence. "When one of us finally kills the other." You pull your hand away from your knife like it's burned you.

"When I kill you?" You say haughtily. "The League will be mine."

"And when I kill you?" Damian snaps back. You seem to mull over your answer for a moment too long, Damian huffing and turning back up to the sky.

"Then you win," you say quietly. "And you're rid of me." Something in your heart twinges at that and you grit your teeth.

"What would I do?" He says it so softly you're sure you wouldn't hear him if you hadn't spent so many years learning him. You fix him with a hard look, but he keeps his eyes pointedly on the stars and not at you. "What would I do without you?"

"What would I do without you?" Your response is so wavering and hushed that you think he must have missed it. It must have simply been caught in the wind and carried away to somewhere where the two of you could be anything other than what you are now. The way Damian turns to look at you, eyes wide and vulnerable and hurting, tells you he heard you just fine.

"I don't want to kill you," he says it like kindness is a crime.

"You have to," you respond, like a lamb led to slaughter. "It's what we're made for, you and me. To be each other's end - each other's undoing. Only one of us is making it out of this alive." There's a weight in your words that goes unsaid. A part of me will die with you. Neither one of us will make it out of this and stay whole. A part of me belongs to you.

Damian stands suddenly, sand flying at where you sit as he shoots to his feet. You brush it off of you with a sigh and crane your neck to look up at him where he's standing tall, fists clenched and shoulders back, his feet planted firmly and holding him steady. You assume there's a determination in his eyes that you're intimately familiar with to go with his stance. He's blocked out the moon with his figure, leaving the two of you in shadow with a blinding halo around his silhouette, but you don't need to see his face to know what look he's wearing - you haven't needed to for a long time.

"There's a way around this, I'm sure," he says. You sigh and a breeze floats by, ruffling through him and into you. Your nose burns when you pick up the faintest whiff of his scent and you wonder, just for a moment, if he can detect the same from you… if he knows you the way you know him.

"You don't want that," you say flatly.

"Don't tell me what I want," he snaps back, voice hard. "You don't get to decide how this ends." You shoot up at his words, standing chest to chest with him, so close that you bump into each other.

"I decide just as much as you do." Your voice mimics the steel in his own. "This is about us, not you, and… and," whatever you were saying dies out as you look at Damian, his eyes staring back at you intensely. You hadn't really realized, in your anger and haste, how close to him you'd shoved yourself, but you can feel his breath on your skin and see the flecks of colour in his deep brown eyes.

"And… what?" He prompts, scowl still on his face. He seems to take no notice of the way his nose brushes against yours. That is, until your eyes flick down to his lips for a split second too long.

He lurches away from you, stepping back to create distance and holding a hand out in surrender, as if the close proximity to you just then had been more threatening than all the times you'd pointed a sword to his chest. The way your heart thumps behind your ribs and your breath catches, you're inclined to agree.

"I'm going to fix this," he says breathlessly.

"Fix what? There's nothing to fix, Damian." His name burns your tongue, like it's an intimacy you shouldn't indulge in. "There's nothing to fix. This is the way it's supposed to go."

"I won't kill you," he's all but yelling at you now. "And I won't let you kill me." You make the mistake of closing your eyes, hanging your head slightly and sighing as you prepare yourself for another fight. It's a moment of weakness that you would never allow in front of any enemy other than him - a moment of vulnerability that could cost you your life. But you hear it, ever so slightly, the whisper of him moving with a stealth that only the two of you know. By the time you open your eyes, he's gone.

You realize, in the days following the incident, that you'd never gone so long without seeing Damian before. At first, you were shoved against each other by your respective sides in never-ending fights to see who would triumph. Then, as time passed and the two of you grew, your skills matched and fights ending in draws over and over, you started seeking each other out on your own. To know your enemy, you'd always told yourself. You're sure he'd always tried to convince himself of the same.

But now? Now days have gone by without a whisper, without a flickering shadow or a hushed breath. Eventually, you go looking, silent and hidden and so desperately hopeful. But that's when you hear it - the rumours.

Damian Al Ghul is gone - gone to live with his father and train with him. He'll be back, you promise yourself. He'll come back to me.

But he doesn't. Time passes and he remains gone, the rumours spreading.

Damian Al Ghul has found a home beyond this war, beyond you. You're sure that only makes you so nauseous because now you'll never get the chance to kill him.

Damian Al Ghul has no interest in fighting a war that isn't his anymore, you hear. Damian Al Ghul has no need for a vicious prophecy or a never-ending rivalry. Damian Al Ghul has found a home, apparently, and it's somewhere far… far away from you.

#smsn.writes #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne fluff #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #damian wayne fanfiction #damian wayne imagine #robin #robin x reader #robin imagine #robin x you

191 notes · View notes

meowzfordayz · 11 months

Text

hic-cup

Author’s Note: sending get-well-soon vibes to anyone currently experiencing the hiccups. 😔😂

hic-cup

Hashira x Reader, Kamaboko x Reader

Word Count: ~1,100

CW: dark humor

Emergency Request Fulfilled: Recently work has been very hectic, and I've been a little anxious about personal things...I really would like something cute! If possible, could you either do the Hashira, KNY squad, or the upper moons (you can pick! You write all of them super well!) With a reader who has bad, but very cute, hiccups?

~faqs~

When you have the hiccups…

… Zenitsu thinks you’re dying. Well. Not really, but the way you gasp for air and clutch your chest has him worried and running to get you water nonetheless. If you lie down on the floor, then he will lie down with you and press his ear to your heart, listening for irregularities.

… Inosuke’s overwhelmed by the urge to poke and squish and smoosh and squeeze you. “Stop that!” he growls, arms crossed irritatedly. “Stop wh-*hiccup*-what?” you huff. “THAT!” he shouts, pointing an accusing finger at you, “You sound so, so, so-” “So what?” “SO CUTE.” Eyes widening, your cheeks warm, nose scrunching, “Ino-*hiccup*suke, I-” “It’s like you want me to pop you,” he grumbles. “Pop me?????” “Stop being adorable so I can stop wanting to kill you.”

… Gyomei simply smiles every time you hiccup. Do not ask him to smack them out of you… a broken rib (or three) is much worse than the hiccups. “Pleeease? They won’t go awaaay!” “My love, you really shouldn’t ask me to harm you.” “Harm me?!” you scoff, “Don’t you have control or something?” Affronted, he nods slowly, “I suppose I have control…” “SO HIT ME.” Sighing, he lightly pats your back, whiiich doesn’t help, but it’s the thought that counts!

… Obanai pretends to be annoyed, but is lowkey disappointed when they eventually go away. “Shut up,” he scowls, glaring as you do your best to swallow another hiccup. “Can’t,” you mutter, flicking his shoulder, “They won’t g-*hiccup*-go away.” “Then I’ll make them,” he mutters darkly. “Oh really?” you raise an eyebrow, amused now, “And how exactly will you make them go away?” His mouth opens, closes, and opens again, exhaling loudly in defeat. “Admit it, they’re kinda cute,” you grin, nudging his side, “I’m kinda cute.” He doesn’t respond, opting instead to quickly peck your cheek, blushing profusely even as his glare deepens.

… Tanjirou has a plethora of ideas to ~help you. From having you chug a glass of cold water, finding a paper bag for you to breathe into, slicing a lemon for you to bite into, attempting to jump scare you, and making you hold your breath until you nearly pass out, he’s ultimately sorely defeated by your hiccups’ persistence. Hiccups 1: Tanjirou 0. When they finally disappear, you promptly credit his expertise and efforts, regardless of how delayed their effectiveness was.

… Mitsuri giggles until she also ends up with the hiccups. You’re just so darn beautiful, and your hiccups sound so darn happy! Like yawning near each other, if one of you hiccups, then the other is bound to follow.

… Shinobu offers you a sympathetic, “Oh dear,” paired with a fond smile, and continues about her day. If they’re persistent, then she’ll utilize the placebo effect in an attempt to help aka she’ll give you “medicine” (it’s sugar water, but sometimes it helps). Occasionally, she’ll ~threaten you, “If you hiccup again, then no kisses!” to a lesser degree of success, but it’s mostly endearing to watch you try so hard and fail so miserably (if this actually bothers you, then she only does it once, but it’s really just an inside joke).

… Kyojuro tries to get himself to hiccup too, but the man is Hiccup Proof™. “What’s your secret?!” you whine playfully, pouting as another hiccup jolts your body, “I swear you inhale all your meals, but never experience the hiccups!” “I keep nothing from you,” he frowns slightly, pressing a reassuring kiss to your cheek, “If I could provide better help, then I certainly would!” “Kyo, it was a rhetorical question.” “Rhetorical or not, if I knew a secret, then I would tell you!” “Sooo remind me to never tell you any secrets,” you chuckle, eyebrow raising pointedly. “My love, your secrets are safe with me!” he exclaims earnestly. “Just not anyone else’s?” you drawl teasingly. He pauses to consider your remark, and then shrugs nonchalantly, “Precisely.”

… Sanemi taxes you, and it increases exponentially. “Pay up,” he smirks, palm held upright toward you, “I heard that.” “Y’know, hiccuping isn’t a crime,” you mutter. “And you didn’t have to play along,” he grins smugly, “But you did.” “Well I felt badly about distracting you,” you retort, frowning as a thought occurs to you, “Although, now you’ve changed tasks completely!” “Have I?” he questions lightly, eyes widening innocently. “Yeah, all you’re focusing on is my hiccups and extorting me for spare change!” “If you stop hiccuping, then I could return to my earlier task.” “I can’t just st-*hiccup*-stop!” you whine, still dropping more coins into his hand, “You’re the worst.” “I love you,” he deadpans, winking as he pockets your money, “Maybe I’ll buy you something nice with my extra income.”

… Muichiro says, “Bless you,” after every single one. “But Muichiro, I didn’t snee-*hiccup*-sneeze!” “Bless you.” “Why are you-” “When you sneeze, for a moment, your soul leaves your body, and the blessing is to prevent it from being stolen, yes?” … “Yes?” “When you hiccup, are you not running the same risk?” … “No?” Unperturbed, he shrugs, smiling faintly, “Well, I appreciate you and your hiccups, so I suppose blessing you is my way of expressing my appreciation.”

… Giyuu’s constantly startled, even when you’re occupying the same space. *hiccup* Ah! his eyes widen, a subtle yet observable reaction to your sudden noisiness. *hiccup* Ah! he blinks, another subtle yet observable reaction. *hiccup* “Are you faking it?” he finally mutters, cheeks faintly flushed as he fixes a gentle stare on you. “Faking w-*hiccup*-what?!” “Your hiccups.” “Why would I fake having the hiccups???” “Never mind.” “Am I bothering you?” “Not quite,” he murmurs, reaching across the couch to squeeze your hand, “I hope they go away soon.” Smiling fondly, you raise his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles, “Me t-*hiccup*-too!” No way is he admitting they ~frighten him.

… Tengen claps excitedly, enthusiastically celebrating your ~unique sound. “How flashy, my dear!” he exclaims with a grin. “Flashy?” you blink, unimpressed. “Hiccups are so rare and so fun!” he explains, “What an interesting phenomenon!” “You have a thing for hiccups,” you deadpan, eyes rolling. “Not at all! I’m just trying to support you through this unfortunate event.” Scoffing, you poke at his chest, “Sooo are my hiccups flashy or unfortunate?” “Both!”

#hashira x reader #preferences #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #zenitsu x reader #kamaboko #inosuke x reader #gyomei x reader #obanai x reader #tanjiro x reader #mitsuri x reader #shinobu x reader #kyojuro x reader #sanemi x reader #muichiro x reader #giyuu x reader #tengen x reader

1K notes · View notes

haetrack · 6 months

Text

The Devil Says Hi - (LHC)

haechan x succubus!reader

wc: 8.4k (…😭)

genre: smut (minors do NOT interact!), little comedy, horror and angst

authors note: happy (early) halloween! as a little gift, i’ll be posting this early because i finished this faster than expected! i hope you guys enjoy and please leave feedback if you did!

general warnings: afab reader, religious themes (in the sense that heaven and hell exist), scratches and scars mentioned, summoning of a demon, open ending, in no way does this represent haechan

smut warnings under the read more tab!

warnings: unprotected sex, sub!haechan, dom!reader, oral sex (both receiving), handjob, humiliation and degradation, mentions of masturbation, edging, overstimulation, dirty talk, desperate and pathetic haechan, crying, cum eating, in general perverse themes (LOL)

To be fair, this wasn’t entirely his fault.

It’s finally near Halloween, and Haechan has some members over at his apartment just to hang out. Doyoung had promised to cook a meal for Haechan, and Johnny and Mark, being the people they are, forced themselves into this promise. Haechan didn’t really have an objection to them coming over, as schedules have been hard and they all needed a day off.

With the weather becoming cooler, Doyoung cooked a warm stew (Haechan’s favorite) for everyone to eat. Small conversations flowed throughout the meal, how Johnny was too immersed in his role again, how Doyoung bought a turtle plushie for Mark that Mark didn’t even want. They laugh at Haechan for his need to be taken care of in every sense. Haechan grows embarrassed, swatting them away while shoving a spoonful of broth into his mouth.

“Speaking of, ‘being taken care of,’ I was talking to Ten the other day.” Mark starts, and everyone groans at his sentence. Knowing how gullible Mark can be, Doyoung encourages him to continue while fighting back giggles.

“Ten was telling me about this, like, chant, I guess?” Mark continues, “It’s like one of those, like, creepy stories kinda.”

“Like Bloody Mary?” Johnny questions.

“Dude… you literally read my mind…” Mark reaches his hand out to Johnny, and Johnny proudly high fives him.

Haechan and Doyoung stare at the both of them, with Haechan glaring at Mark so he can hurry and finish his story.

Mark clears his throat, “Anyways, Ten said this chant thing would summon a demon.” A silence follows. “Specifically, a sex demon.” He finishes with a proud smile on his face and his pointer finger up.

No one says anything for thirty seconds.

“Who invited this guy?” Johnny laughs.

“If I remember correctly, you both invited yourselves.” Haechan deadpans.

Mark groans and slurps on his stew loudly. Haechan sarcastically comforts him, telling him to be quiet for five minutes so he can become funny again. Doyoung and Johnny laugh at their antics before Doyoung gasps out loud to announce the idea that just popped into his head.

“Let’s play rock, paper, scissors and let the loser do the chant!” Doyoung laughs at himself for such a good idea, and Mark’s nodding along to his line of thought.

“Then let’s record, too, for our fans. Like a mini vlog!” Everyone stares at Mark and his suggestion.

“What did I say about being quiet for five minutes…” Haechan comforts him again, patting his shoulder while Mark plants his head on the table.

“I say we just let Haechan do it,” Johnny grins, “he seems like he’d like it the most out of all of us.” Everyone but Haechan somehow mutually agree on this, and Haechan takes offense because what kind of freak do they take him for? He may like… some certain, specific things in bed but do they assume he would go that far?

Mark chimes up again, “I’ll send him the words he needs to say!”

“Don’t you dare send me that. I will literally throw your phone out the window!” Haechan immediately reaches for Mark’s phone and Mark deflects all of Haechan’s moves. While this is happening, Doyoung texts Ten to send him the lyrics (?) for the chant Haechan needs to do. Johnny stares over Doyoung’s shoulder and smirks, waiting to see a text back from Ten.

Ten responds with an of course! because he’s Ten, he wouldn’t need an explanation for something like this. Doyoung copies the words and sends them to Haechan’s phone, all while Johnny’s snickering over his shoulder. Haechan hears his phone ding and immediately starts whining, knowing exactly what was just sent to his phone.

“Go ahead and do that for us once we leave.” Johnny smiles, and Doyoung laughs as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. Once Mark finally catches up on what’s happening, he also ends up laughing and high fives the both of them. Haechan makes a face at the three of them, making a show of pushing his tongue into his cheek and smirking.

“I’ll only do it because I know shit like this is usually fake,” Haechan grumbles, which makes everyone laugh at him more.

Haechan wouldn’t exactly mind a demon to help him get off.

Everything finally settles. Conversation slows down, food gets finished, dishes get put away, and a movie gets put on. Doyoung dozes off a little while Mark keeps bothering Johnny with questions about the movie. Haechan is thinking to himself about the earlier conversation. So what if he’d call a sex demon?

His members' assumptions have no reflection on his true character. Yes, he may be a clingy man with a lot of needs, but that doesn’t mean he would call a whole demon to his home. He doesn’t actively talk about his sex life in front of his members, not that there really is one due to his lack of time. So maybe they’re just worried about their youngest member not being able to let off steam.

During the end of the movie, Haechan is debating between the pros and cons of potentially inviting a demon to his apartment to… fuck. Con: there would quite literally be a demon in his house. Pro: he can finally end his dry spell! This would give him an opportunity to finally step away from pathetically getting himself off to his favorite porn videos.

He doesn’t want to talk about how he has favorite porn videos. With how busy of a person he is, not to mention famous, he can’t just go out and find someone to have sex with. Especially now that he has his own apartment, he can do whatever he wants without the worry of being caught by another person. To say that he isn’t a little desperate to have something around him other than his hand isn’t a lie.

He sighs to himself, looking up and seeing that the movie had just ended. He looks around and finds Johnny getting up and stretching while Mark is gently waking up Doyoung. Haechan himself yawns and stretches while sitting down.

“I think we’re gonna head out already,” Mark says, sleepy. Haechan nods along to his words and walks them to the door.

“Don’t forget to call your lover from Hell tonight,” Johnny singsongs, which Haechan ends up just shoving him out the door.

Haechan will do what he wants. Which may or may not include inviting a demon over to have sex.

Haechan decides that maybe he does want to summon a demon.

He tries to convince himself that he’s only trying to summon a demon because he’s curious. It doesn’t have to only be for sex, maybe you guys can just talk? Can a human ask a demon how their life has been since they’ve been in Hell? Or is that inappropriate? How inappropriate of a question can that be if they’re a literal demon?

Haechan decides to see if he can research any of this.

He copies and pastes the words (?) that were sent to him into Google to see if anything comes up. To his surprise, only a few articles and ugh, Reddit posts show up. The articles that show up are about other sex demons (which he now learns are called succubi and incubi), and only briefly mention the words that were given to him. He groans when he realizes that the Reddit posts might actually be of help to him.

To his disappointment, the first Reddit article that he clicks on genuinely does help him. It confirms that whoever he’s summoning is a succubus. You are one of the lesser known succubi, but apparently one of the more powerful ones. You have no preference in who you choose to be with, but everyone who tries to summon you should be warned.

Haechan reads this and thinks for a little bit. Would he really try to sacrifice his life in order to sleep with a pretty demon? Maybe. Plus, the post doesn’t even say if his life would be in danger if he were to summon you. Just a be warned. Maybe all he’ll get from this is some good sex and the best sleep of his life.

He decides to ponder on it a bit more.

He gets ready to go to bed. He does his small nighttime routine. He makes sure his door is locked and that everything in his apartment is turned off. He washes up and changes into his pajamas, which consist of a simple shirt and shorts. He stares at himself in the mirror, realizing that he could summon you right now if he wanted to. He instead walks out of his restroom and goes to lay down.

He scrolls on Instagram for a little bit with nothing really in mind. Although he’s trying to focus on this cover of a song he likes, his mind can’t stop wandering. All his thoughts are leading back to you. What you might look like, how you might talk, how you might feel around him. He feels a familiar feeling set at the bottom of his stomach.

With his mind running on impulse to just fuck and breed, he decides to get up and go back to his restroom. He stands in front of the mirror, memorizes the last of the words, and turns off the light. For good measure, he doesn’t lock the door in case he needs to run out. He turns his phone off and faces himself once again. He opens his mouth and begins reciting.

After he’s finished, he feels like his whole apartment feels quieter than usual. The air in the room feels colder, but his face feels hotter. He stands there for two minutes, waiting for you to crawl out his mirror and immediately start fucking him. Unfortunately, none of that happens and now he’s embarrassed, standing in his restroom half hard.

Before he goes to leave the restroom, a chill passes through him. He brushes it off, assuming that it’s all just a coincidence.

You feel it. You feel so alive. Someone has summoned you.

It’s been awhile. You’re aware that out of most of your fellow succubi, you’re one of the least called ones. You don’t really mind though, you know that you’re the best at your job. Everyone that you get with begs to be with you forever, and you lead them on, letting them sit in the guilt of knowing they landed themselves in Hell. No energy or pleasure you get from sex compares to the look of guilt sitting on someone's pretty face.

When you had first heard this man summoning you, you could feel he was desperate. You could feel yourself tingle in delight at the thought of ruining this person's life. You watch him through your dimension looking embarrassed assuming that the spell didn’t work. How wrong he was.

You waited until he left the room. You waited hours more to make sure he was sleeping. Playing the long game was important to you. His desperation filled you with excitement. How cuter can a human be? Would he beg for you, cry your name out, keep going until he knows you’re satisfied? Will he be willing to risk his life just at the possibility of being able to fuck you?

You decide it’s time. You open a portal to his world through his mirror. You slip through it and stand tall. You peek through the door to see him peacefully sleeping, not knowing that there’s an evil spirit looming around the corner. You step in, already feeling small waves of energy hitting you. He’s hard in his sleep. You want to laugh at how pathetic this man seems, and you’ve seen some pathetic men before.

You stand in the corner of the room, wondering exactly how to wake him up. You decide on giving him a small scare. You go through your plan one more time in your head before you start.

You start off with small taps on his bedroom door. You see him stir in his sleep. You tap harder and harder. He wakes up slowly, groaning before sitting up. You make yourself invisible, out of his sight. Before even checking his room to see what was producing the sounds, he looks down into his lap and sighs. He rubs a hand over the obvious tent in his shorts and squeezes.

He gets up and looks around. You tap on his door one last time, harder and louder than the rest. He snaps his head towards the door and stands there. After a few heavy breaths, he makes his way to the door. Sure that you’re out of sight, you make your way to his bed and lay down on it. You watch as he braces himself before opening his door, looking around to see if anyone was there.

He checks a little longer before accepting that no one’s there and closes the door. He turns around and sees you, laying right on top of the bed he was just sleeping in.

In shock, he falls back onto the door and scrambles on the floor. “How did you- what- who are you?” he sputters out.

“I know you already know what I am. And think a little harder, baby, you know what my name is.”

As if Haechan has known for all his life, your name flashes through his head. He lets it consume him, he can taste your name on his tongue. Your name repeats in his head like a mantra, and he whispers it out to you. You smile at him, “That’s correct.”

“Now tell me, what exactly should I call you?”

He looks at you dazed, his body language shows he’s still nervous, but he responds with, “Haechan.”

“Don’t lie to me, pretty boy. That’s what everyone calls you, hm? Tell me the name that only I can call you.” You’re trying to see how easy it is to get him to trust you, to fall under your spell. As soon as the name “Lee Donghyuck” falls from his lips, you know he’ll be willing to let go of his entire life for you.

To make this more fun, you decide to move where he’s sat on the floor. You crawl over to him slowly, trying to build anticipation. The closer you get to him, the more energy you can feel radiating off of him. Poor Donghyuck, still so horny after being almost scared to death.

He shudders when he feels your breath on his neck, lips placed centimeters away from his skin. He whines out, nonverbally begging you to touch him. “How are you still so hard after having someone like me in your home? How desperate are you for this?”

He arches his upper body to try to get at least one part of his body touching you, apparently too embarrassed to admit that you’re right. He wasn’t expecting you to look so… humanly? You look like any normal person in a Halloween costume. A short, pretty dress adorns your body and horns sit atop of your head. You see he’s more focused on your body than your question, so you grab his chin in order to get him to look at you, “Answer my questions and I’ll give you everything that you want.”

He takes note of your gold, glowing eyes. “I- I want this. I want this so bad.”

You grin at how easy it was for him to get out of his shell in order to get some pussy, and you decide to tease him on it. “My baby’s so desperate to get his dick wet. Can’t wait to make you my little bitch,” you say before pulling him into a heavy kiss. He tries to keep up with you, moaning into your mouth once you place yourself in his lap.

Once he feels how warm you are on top of him, he breaks away from the kiss in order to wantonly moan out. You direct your kisses to his jaw down to his neck, messily leaving marks where you please. He’s well aware that the one thing he shouldn’t do during all of this is let you leave marks where any one of his fans could see. Something inside of him tells him it’s okay, he’s yours, you’re allowed to do this to him.

You go to take off his shirt when his hands grab your wrists, his eyes looking at yours with uncertainty. You put on a gentle face, “Let me see all of my baby, I’ll make sure to ruin every single inch of your body.” He subconsciously ruts his hips up to yours, and you can feel how hard he is. He’s a good size, and the thought of him filling you up nicely urges you to continue.

His hands shoot to your waist, but you rip them from your sides and force them on both sides of his body. You take off his shirt and you marvel at the sight of him. You can tell he’s feeling embarrassed, but his dick twitching beneath you begs you to praise him. “What a pretty body for such a pretty guy, you’re everything I could’ve ever asked for in a human.” He lurches in to continue kissing you, and you happily reciprocate his desperate actions.

While kissing him, you begin to explore his chest with your hands. You run your nails along every section, feeling his skin jump underneath your touch. You bring your hands up to his chest and pinch his nipples. His whole body jumps at your ministrations and he whimpers loudly. You feel your body go hot, a reaction like this never failing to amaze you.

You continue your attack on his nipples, and you begin to slowly grind on him. Slow enough to tease him and give him a taste of what's to come. Apparently, this deems too much for Donghyuck all at once and he cries out, “Please stop, I’m about to cum!”

This only spurs you on more, “Can my baby cum just like this? With just some touches and dry humping? Gonna show me how much of a depraved loser you are?”

He just lets whimpers out, hands gripping onto his shorts to ground him. “I’m gonna cum, please let me cum, I wanna cum so bad- please!”

You remove yourself completely from him, choosing to sit back on your heels to watch his already fucked out form. There’s tears in his eyes, his face and ears are flushed, and drool slips from his lips. Your eyes move down to his lap to see a wet spot in front of his shorts that you know did not come from you. There’s a thin layer of sweat across his face that makes him glow in the darkness of his room.

He looks up at you bleakley, and you smile sweetly at him. “You didn’t think I would let you cum that easy, right?” You laugh and he just squirms around in his spot.

“Why don’t we move to your bed already? I promise I’ll treat you a lot better.”

You suppress your giggles when you see him walk over with his hands clasped over his bulge as if you weren’t just sitting on it. You lay back against his headboard, and beckon him to sit in between your legs. He sits with his back against you just a little too easily for a demon that he just summoned. He can feel your chest press behind him, which causes warmth to spread throughout his body once again.

You murmur against his shoulder, “My Donghyuck, why don’t you tell me what you need…” He hangs his head down low and whines. You can tell from the kind of person he is that he wouldn’t mind begging, so why isn’t he doing it now? “Do you really think you can be such a brat to someone like me? Hurry up and spit out what you want before I leave you here alone.”

He grips your thigh and looks back at you. You let his touch slide, curious as to what he’ll do next. “It’s not that! I just… I don’t want to disappoint you with how fast I might cum…” he trails off at the end, clearly ashamed of how his body feels right now.

“My easy baby, the angels made you just for me… we have all night for me to take care of you… just wait.” You face him front again and you place a tender kiss on his shoulder.

“I’m not easy! I usually don’t cum fast but when I-” a gasp cuts him off as you take his hand on your thigh and trail it to his bulge. You start by making him palm himself over his shorts, whispering in his ear how big he feels and how bad you want him. You encourage him to continue while taking your hand away from his, bringing it back up to his chest. He tries to move his body away, but you force him back into place.

You slowly trail your fingers across his nipples just to get him sensitive once more, and he feeds into it. You see his hand move faster against himself, moving up and down and squeezing at the tip. How can someone feel this needy to the point where touching himself over his shorts was enough to get off?

You can tell he starts getting impatient, his usual habits from his own masturbation sessions begin to take over. You can see his eyes shut and his face scrunches, his hand moves down to squeeze his balls to try to slow himself down. He lets out a drawn out moan and you whisper in his ear to slow down. You can tell he heard you by the shake of his head, but he continues to get himself off when you’re right behind him.

“I thought you brought me here to help you get off, but you’re doing all the work?” He nods again, his arm working harder to bring himself to an orgasm. You’re honestly surprised, nothing like this has happened to you in all of your years. He throws his head back onto your shoulders and brings a hand up to one of his nipples. What an interesting human. His loud moans and whimpers are sent straight to your ears and you need to quickly shut him up.

You bring a hand up to his bottom lip to trace it. You whisper a suck into his ear and stick two fingers in his mouth. He responds immediately, mouth sucking and tongue licking the entirety of your fingers. You inwardly moan at the sight of him sprawled out over you, a sweaty mess of a man giving himself the utmost pleasure. You can feel him get closer to his orgasm, energy radiating off of him to the point where you can feel it seep into your skin. An idea crosses your mind.

Right on the brink of his orgasm, you whisper once more in his ear. “You’ll stop for me won’t you? You’ll wait for me to cum, too?”

He can feel you smiling, teasing him for long forgetting about you. He knows how pathetic he looks right now, getting himself off when there’s a literal sex demon behind him, but he can’t help it. A small part of him likes how he gets treated when he’s like this, getting made fun of for being so depraved. In normal circumstances, he’d let himself cum and move on. But tonight, you’re right there, your pretty voice telling him to wait.

Going against what he really wants, he chooses to follow you instead. He gives himself one last stroke before tearing his hands away from himself. He’s whining for you to help him, to let him get what he wants. There’s tears pricking his eyes you can tell he’s dangerously close to crying. You coo at him, shushing him and telling him it’s okay. You sit up some more and bring his face to yours, kissing him and taking all that you want from him.

“Are you ready to help me out, baby?” and he looks at you with an almost shocked expression. You raise an eyebrow at him, and sensing he might’ve done something wrong, he tries to explain himself. “It’s just… I have gotten off yet and… maybe you can help me first?” You outwardly laugh at him, which makes him cower and grow embarrassed once again.

“This whole time it’s been about you,” you giggle, “and you still want me to help you!?” Never have you seen someone as desperate as Donghyuck. You’ve brought him so close to cumming twice already, and he thinks that he should still get even more. Someone never taught him that good actions get him rewards. Through his embarrassment, you see him grow frustrated. This is where things start to get fun.

“Well I summoned you here in the first place,” he argues, “so you should be the one listening to me!”

You tut at him, “I didn’t know my sweet boy could be so bratty. What would you do if I said I didn’t want to touch you anymore?” You challenge him, trying to see how hard you can push his buttons.

“I’ll just get myself off!” He immediately gets to work. His hand goes back down to his dick with rapid strokes. You can see he’s already worked up from before, breathy moans escape his mouth when he teases his tip.

You sit and watch with enjoyment. As much as he’s trying to show that he doesn’t need you, you can tell that he’s growing frustrated. Frustrated that it doesn’t feel as good as you, frustrated that you won’t sit on his dick already, frustrated that he’s been on edge for so long. He opens his eyes to see you watching him like a hawk, waiting for him to break. What really gets to him though is how he can see that you’re squeezing your thighs together, your breath growing heavy.

He whines your name out, and you’re ready to jump in. “You ready? I’ve been waiting for my Donghyuck to help me out.” You slip off your dress and lay back onto his bed. You spread your legs, showing him just how wet you’ve gotten from watching him. It’s like he immediately forgets what he was just doing and reaches for you. You smile at him, “You know what you did wrong. If you want to help me, you’ll sit right there until I tell you to.”

He’s about to complain before he sees you spread yourself apart on full display for him. He sits back on his knees with his hands on his thighs. You bring your fingers to where you’re most sensitive, ready to put on a show for Donghyuck. Even if you pretend that you didn’t want Donghyuck doing this for you, you would much rather have him in between your thighs doing all the work. You moan at the sight of him staring a hole into you, his hands gripped tightly on his thighs.

You taunt him, “I wonder how much you’d be able to help me out. When was the last time you’ve eaten pussy? Are you even good?”

You see his dick twitch at your harsh words and he forces his hands to stay put. He’s gasping for air, somehow already seeming fucked out. Despite his struggle for breath, he manages out, “Please let me help you… I’ll do everything you want me to…”

Grinning at his words, you respond, “Anything? Then come here.” Before he can properly react, you reach up and grab him by the hair. He lets out a high-pitched moan that satisfies every inch of your being. You place him right in front of where you need him most. He grabs both of your thighs in his hands and looks up at you with a dazed look in his eye, licking a strip from bottom to top.

He focuses on your clit, trying to gauge what makes you feel best. Once he finds a good rhythm, he burns it into his memory. He’s so messy, so desperate to get you off so he can get off. He brings a finger up to your entrance, looking up at you so he can get the go ahead. You pat his head, and he slides his finger into you. It’s tight, warm, and everything Donghyuck could’ve wished for. Thinking about how he’ll get to be in you spurs him on to be as good as he can for you.

“Tell me how good I’m doing… tell me how good I make you feel…” he says as best as he can with a mouth full of pussy.

“Making me feel so good,” you gasp when his finger finds that sweet spot inside of you, “I want to keep my good boy all to myself.” He whimpers at your words, the vibration sending sparks up your spine. You remove your hands from his hair and bring them up to your chest to fondle and toy with them. As much as Donghyuck wants to complain from the lost pressure, he looks up and finds something better.

Better than any porn he’s watched, better than any pornstar he’s ever seen, there you are, pleasuring yourself because of how good he’s making you feel. He has to take a few seconds away from you in order to gasp, unknowingly starting to grind against his bed. You manage to open your eyes to look down at him, his cheeks red from your thighs rubbing against them. His hair is disheveled from how hard you were gripping it. He feels like he’s been rewarded with a beautiful being laid right across his bed, waiting for him to continue.

He plunges one more finger into you, curling them inside you in order to prod against that spot. His tongue does small circles around your clit in order to get you to cum, and he feels like he’s getting you there. All that he can hear in his room are your breathy gasps and moans accompanied by his own moans and the sounds of eating you out. He feels as though he can cry right between your thighs, nothing in his life seeming better than being here right now.

You can feel pleasure radiating off of him. You quickly find the source: his hips desperately humping against his bed. You’re not quite sure if he’s aware of it or not, but you assume that he isn't if both hands are on you. Either way, the sight of him still seeking out pleasure spurs you on, bringing you right to the edge of your orgasm.

“Is my baby g-gonna make me cum? Is he giving me everything I need?” You let your hands fall back to his hair, pushing him as close as you can get him. He’s moaning into your core, fingers twitching inside of you as he tries to control his own thoughts. His thoughts are so loud you can hear them, begging for you to finish so he can hurry and fill you up.

You do just that. With one last suckle on to your clit, you arch up into the pleasure and cry his name out. He helps you ride out your orgasm, removing his fingers from you and lapping at your entrance. You sit up and look down at him, slightly pushing his head away before he can overstimulate you. He’s about to bring his fingers up to his mouth to clean them off, but you grab his wrist and shove them into your mouth.

How he would give everything up in order to feel your mouth on him. Your tongue separates his pointer and middle finger apart, and he can feel himself drooling a little. You take a peek at him, and his eyes are glazed over. Another time, you suppose. You take his fingers out of his mouth with a pop! and wait for him to respond. He's openly staring at his fingers, and you have to snap him out of his daze.

“Donghyuck, are you ready for your reward?” He nods frantically, his body feeling like it could explode at any minute. “Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want.”

Unlike before, he answers immediately with a whiny tone, “I need- no, I want you. I want you so bad that it’s physically hurting me.” He groans and you giggle at him. He’s been edged two (three if you count him being bratty) times, so he has to be willing to do anything with you. You decide to ask him the big question.

“Will you top?” He whips his head towards you with a shocked look. He has huh!? written all over his face. He was half expecting you to just pin him down to the bed and start riding him until he cries, but you ask him to do the impossible.

In normal circumstances, Donghyuck would happily agree and do all the work. He doesn’t mind being a service top every once in a while. But here… he knows as soon as he enters you, he might immediately cum on the spot. Knowing that he’ll feel your velvety walls around him while having to be the one that’s moving… he’s scared. But there’s an evil voice inside of him telling him how good it would feel to hear your voice telling him how pathetic he is.

You can hear his internal dialogue just by looking at his face. He tells you a small yes and you grin. You pull him into a kiss where you let him decide the pace. You want to get him confident in his moves, just so you can break it all down again. He pulls you onto his lap and holds the back of your upper thighs. Seemingly feeling good with familiar territory, he moves you in order to get you to grind slowly on his thigh. You appreciate the effort and let a small moan escape your mouth.

He takes this as a sign for him to move on. He slides you off of him and onto your back. He takes a moment to look at you laid across his bed, and if you were a real person, he thinks he would’ve fallen in love with you on the spot. You look so sweet despite the way you’ve been treating him, and all he wants to do is take care of you. He’s taken out of his sudden love-trance by his twitching dick telling him he’s been on edge for too long. He takes a deep breath before moving on top of you.

“I’m ready for my baby to fill me up,” and you reach out to him to stroke his cheek. He nuzzles into your touch as if this is something you both always do. He remembers reading in a Reddit post about unprotected demon sex (which at the time he didn’t take seriously) saying that there should be no worries of pregnancy because of spiritual differences.

This will be the first time he’s ever gone in raw with someone. He’s nervous, but knowing that you have more experience than he does calms him down.

You reach up at him to plant a soft kiss to his lips, and he looks at you with determined eyes. He aligns himself up with you, and slowly pushes himself in.

He’s never felt like this before. The only way he can describe this feeling is like Heaven. Once his tip is in, he has to stop and take some breaths. His head falls to your shoulder and you try your best not to laugh. You moan softly into his ear and beg him to continue. He stutters out a wait as he still tries to get used to the feeling. He feels like his nerves are on fire. No matter how many times he’s cum with his own hand, nothing could’ve ever prepared him for this. He clenches his teeth and pushes in a little further.

He already feels like he can cum just like this, halfway in you. You watch him in his currently fucked out state, and you try to be patient, you really do, but he’s taking way too long. You bring your legs to rest atop of his back and push him forward, effectively pushing him all the way inside. This was unexpected for him, and with a loud moan, it’s taking every muscle in his body in order to stop himself from cumming too fast.

This is exactly what you wanted. He’s already shaking, his head planted on your shoulder. He’s drooling, mumbling incoherent words into your ear along the lines of so sensitive, feels so good. As much as you like seeing him like this, this isn’t just about him. So you whisper in his ear, “You better start moving, baby.” He all but whines into your ear, “C-can’t. You feel– fuck– too good. If I move, I’ll cum.”

With a sigh, you say, “That’s my job, pretty boy.” Your hands move up along his abdomen and up to his chest. Your thumbs trace each nipple before giving them a hard squeeze. His whole body suddenly jumps, his hips pushing himself deeper into you, and he cums. You feel warmth spread through you, the feeling of euphoria washing over you as you feel Donghyuck ride his orgasm out.

On his end, his eyes are tightly shut and his ears are ringing. He’s not sure how loud he’s being right now, but he knows he’s moaning. His hips move on their own, small thrusts into you that he’s unaware he’s even doing. He could die right now and still be the happiest man on Earth. Your warm walls envelop him, tightly sucking him in. He can’t help but grip harshly onto your hips, not caring how hard he does it. There’s nothing in his mind but you.

“Thank you… thank you so much…” Much to your dismay, he’s slowing down and you can feel him begin to soften in you. He couldn’t possibly think this could be over as soon as he’s cum and you haven’t. You grab him by the shoulders and force him to hold himself up once more. He’s still in his post-orgasm state, eyes dazed over and lips swollen.

You smile sweetly at him and you lightly slap his cheek to get his attention, “We aren’t done until I say we are.” He looks at you confusedly before feeling you tug again on his nipples. His hips jut forward into you, and he lets out a loud whimper. “Just give me a s-second, please!” You shake your head no and continue your attack on his chest. His hips keep moving on their own and you feel it, the perfect mix of pain and pleasure radiating off of him.

“You like how much it hurts? You like showing me how much of a pain slut you are?” All he can do is nod at your words as he pounds into you, the stinging pain of overstimulation bleeds into pleasure. Tears threaten to fall from his eyes, his arms are shaking trying to hold himself up. You’re so perfect, no matter the harsh words that fall from your mouth or the grip your pussy has on him, all he wants to do is please you.

He doesn’t know how long he can last.

You feel his tip hitting deep inside of you, the pleasure building up quickly inside of you. He continues to ram into you despite how sensitive he feels, either from wanting to be good for you or to make up for all the times he couldn’t have sex. You can feel yourself becoming undone, that spot inside of you being hit perfectly and your clit being rubbed messily by his thumb. Your nails dig into his back, leaving scratches and one symbol.

You’re about to cum when suddenly, he pulls out of you and cums on your thighs. His mouth is open, eyebrows scrunched together with his eyes closed. Feelings of frustration bubble at the back of your throat but before you decide on anything, “Clean me.”

He shakes himself from his daze to look up at you, cheeks pink while a small what escapes his heart-shaped lips. “You heard me. Clean up the mess you made.” He stares down at your cum-ridden thighs and lets out a small whimper. Humiliation. Degradation. To have himself wrapped around your finger, made to do whatever you asked of him.

He scooches himself down to your thighs and stares. This was his mark on you. He feels his body heat up, and despite having cum two times, he can feel himself staying hard. This is what he likes most. He looks up at you through his eyelashes and he sees you smirking, clearly satisfied with how he can move past his own embarrassment to please you.

He darts his tongue out and licks. It’s not a horrible feeling, just… different. He can’t lie and say he hasn’t tasted his own cum after jerking off. But to have you here, laying on his bed while licking up your thighs, it’s something he would do over and over again if it meant keeping you here.

Once he’s done, you make sure he’s swallowed everything. You laugh at him for being such a pervert and you can see the effect your words have on him. He’s still hard. You can’t believe a person like him can exist, and you want to keep him forever to yourself. “Now that you’ve had your fun, I think it’s my turn now.”

With all the strength from the energy you’ve gained from his orgasms, you push him down onto his bed and straddle him. He doesn’t even look shocked anymore, willingly letting you do whatever you please. You line up his dick to your entrance and slide down. You can feel him a lot better when you’re on top, how perfectly he fits inside of you. You look down at him, his chest arched up and face scrunched up, “My perfect baby, made just to be my little sex toy.”

You start slow. This is all about you now. You grind yourself slowly onto him, feeling your clit rub deliciously on his pelvis. His hands are gripped onto the sheets, and you decide it’s finally time that he gets to touch you properly. You bring his hands up to your chest and his eyes shoot open. He looks at your boobs, and squeezes. In pure ecstasy, his hips push up into you on their own. What a simple man.

With added stimulation to your nipples, you begin to start riding him. You almost pull out of him with just the tip inside before you slam back down. He moves his body in order to try to help you but you stop him. Instead of letting his hands rest on your boobs, you grab them by the wrist and pin them above his head. “I don’t need your help. All you were supposed to do was lay here and be my little toy, but you couldn’t even do that.”

He looks up to you with begging eyes. Instead of asking for forgiveness, his eyes beg you to punish him. You can only smile. You restart with a harsh pace to where only the sound of sex echoes in the room. Loud, incessant whines from Donghyuck fill the room, and the sounds of him only make you want to work harder.

“Are you gonna let me fuck you into Hell, let me fuck you so hard that you’ll land a spot right next to me?” He’s shaking his head no, but he’s stuttering out yes. He tells you how bad he wants to be yours, how good you feel. You see tears begin to slip out of his eyes which causes your own hips to move faster. You bend down to reach his face, your tongue slipping out and licking up his tears, “My baby tastes so good.”

At the feeling of your warm tongue on his face, he grips onto your horns and you groan. He can feel how wet you are, your slick and his cum from before slipping out of you and making a mess on him. He loves how this feels, being treated like gum stuck at the bottom of your shoe. The messiness of it all, how mean you are, how much you seem like you couldn’t care less. It only brings him closer to cumming.

“You’re mine, you know that? You were made for me and only for me.” He moans out a yes, only yours, want to be yours and you just fuck him harder. He’s hitting that spot inside of you with such precision to where you consider keeping him forever.

“Let me stay with you,” he’s crying again, “I want to be with you forever.” You smile at him, trying to seem like you’re debating on saying yes. You don’t plan on answering him, waiting to see how he might fall apart without you. “Please let me be with you, come live with me and I’ll let you use me whenever.” The thought of using him almost makes a yes spill out of your lips, and that scares you. When have you ever thought of being with a human?

You push this thought at the back of your mind and focus on the now. Donghyuck splayed under you, cursing and moaning how he never wants this to end, tears slipping out and hips jutting in you. He brings his hands up to your boobs again, groping and squeezing around them. “L-let’s cum together, wanna cum with you.”

How can you deny him when he asks so sweetly? “Whatever my baby wants, he can get.”

Hearing the sweet nickname, he fills you up and whimpers out an I love you.

He decides this time that he’ll focus on you, bringing his hand to your clit and rubbing small, messy circles into you. You wrap his arms around your waist and pull yourself to his face, kissing him. It’s messy, drool falling down both your chins, tongues moving without thought behind them. It feels so good, so intimate, that you can’t help but fall for his touch.

After you cum, you see that he’s passed out under you. You remove yourself from him. He’s still breathing, so no, you didn’t accidentally fuck him to death. You did take quite a lot of energy from him, though. You pick up his shorts from before and maneuver them back onto him.

When you heard him say I love you, it felt as if your world stopped. Did he mean it? Was he only saying it because he was so close to cumming? He did say that he’d want to be with you forever, and you can’t say that you would mind that. You have enough power to make something happen.

Before you go, you whisper into his ear, “Wherever you go, I’ll always find you.”

Haechan wakes up the next morning feeling refreshed. It feels as though last night never happened, only occurring in his dreams.

Despite how strenuous last night was for him, he doesn't feel sore or tired. He does feel pain on his back, but he’ll check on that later. One moment, he’s laying in bed feeling content, and in another, he feels alone. Even though he only knew you for that short amount of time, he feels more connected to you than anyone he’s known before. An unknown feeling of sorrow weighs in on him, knowing you don’t really exist in the way he wants you to.

Before he gets too sad at the thought of you, he gets up and walks to his bathroom. He does his little routine in the restroom, and before leaving, he decides to check that spot that’s hurting.

He turns around and lets his back face the mirror. On his right shoulder, he sees your initials scratched onto him. It’s freshly healed with a circle around it. Did you… brand him?

He’s filled with different emotions all at once. One, that’s kinda hot. The thought of him being practically owned by a demon, specifically you, makes the back of his neck feel warm. Secondly, he’s reminded of his previous sadness. You were right there with him last night, and there’s a big chance he’ll never be able to see you again. Third, which is probably the most important, he’s filled with dread.

He may or may not have said things last night that would’ve gotten him in trouble. Yes to being owned by you, yes to being fucked into hell, yes to meeting you in every lifetime. In his defense, he thought it was all dirty talk that usually happens during sex. He wouldn’t have known it was ever really, especially if he was pussy drunk. He can’t say he would really mind this happening, wanting to see you one more time.

Months pass. The scratches fade into scars that he tries to forget about. One comeback passes and he’s currently in the middle of promoting another. He’s with his 127 members this time. He remembers the day after you and him had sex, he told his members what had happened. Of course, they all made fun of him, assuming it was a wet dream. He grumbled to himself that he had proof, but it probably wasn’t best to show his members some demon scratches.

It’s one day after a schedule where him and his members are ready to go to their respective homes. He finds himself feeling more tired today despite the fact that they won at a music show. They all get ready to leave into their assigned cars outside. He’s aware that some fans will be waiting for them outside, so he shakes off his fatigue and puts on a bright face. They walk outside and hear their names being called out. He nods in their general direction. Until he hears one call of his name.

Not Haechan, but Donghyuck. He knows some fans call him by his real name, but this one feels special. He feels it course throughout his body, the sound of the voice getting stuck in his brain. He whips his head in the direction he heard it and sees you, standing behind a group of fans. You’re smiling at him, and he knows it's you. He feels it’s you. Your smile, your eyes, your voice calling out to him. It’s all too familiar.

“Donghyuck,” you whisper, “I’ve found you.”

a/n: this became way longer than i expected but i hope you all ENJOYYY i love my sweet haechan

tag list: @crzns

#haechan smut #haechan scenarios #haechan x reader #haechan fic #sub haechan #nct fic #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct smut

345 notes · View notes