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#this was my first thought upon seeing this photo
rubra-wav · 1 day
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"Both Sides Of Silence" - Radiosilence fic
Word count: 3.5k
A/N I made a rant abt this (here)and decided to write it and ended up getting swept up in it haha.
This is my personal headcanon on how Alastor reacted when his friendship with Vox ended
Cw: SFW, angst
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The state of Alastor's room was horrendous. The radio host's quarters could normally be described as rather unnerving due to their decor, however the space now looked like a downright horror show.
It was as if a storm had raged within with furniture overturned and scratched up, vases and photo frames broken - all of this leaving a hazardous mixture of glass fragments, splinters and lounge stuffing strewn everywhere.
In the middle of the mess, said demon’s form crumpled against the floor. Alastor's claws gripped at his hair, pulling hard upon it as he shook with heaving breaths, a mixture of despair and boiling rage inside of him, making him even more volatile than usual.
The object of his plight's photo sat before him. An unwanted reminder of the first time he and his former friend met.
Allowing Vox to take a photo with him had been an olive branch he reached out to the other demon, rarely offered outside of special circumstances.
Seeing it now stung him deep, bringing inner turmoil unlike anything the cannibalistic overlord had felt in a long long time.
An actual, real bond with someone had become an estranged concept to him during his time in hell. After his mother died, he'd severed every last attachment to anyone else, only really playing into superficial, shallow attachments to others. Nothing that couldn't easily be brushed off.
Or at least, he thought he had.
The snapped cord of his friendship with the TV demon truly cut him deep in a way that he thought was not possible.
The fact of the matter filled him with such visceral self-disgust that he fought the need to dry heave as his claws sank into his scalp in an attempt to ground himself. It inevitably failed as his mind once again revisited the damned situation that had unfolded just hours before for the umpteenth time that night.
-
A friendly get-together with Vox, just a drink at a quiet bar they often met at when they had time to do so just like any other.
Through the whole night the TV demon had seemed as if he had been stressed about something. They conversed as usual, backed by soft jazz music in the cozy wooden interior of the joint, however it was obvious to Alastor that his companion was out of sorts.
Vox's blue claws fidgeted from where he gripped at his drink - a nervous tell which Alastor had long ago picked up from his first meetings with him in the old days - his shoulders hunched in the orange turtleneck sweater he wore.
“You have been shaking like a leaf this whole time. What seems to be the matter, my friend?” Alastor asked after taking a sip of his whiskey, gently tilting the glass back and forth causing the amber liquid to swish around.
His red eyes looked to the side at the other demon with a casual half-lidded stare, drinking in every small reaction the TV demon gave with a finely tuned expertise despite his exterior.
Vox visibly flinched, caught off guard by the sudden call to his behaviour. His CRT head coyly tilted in Alastor's direction, small pupils looking to the side at him and shoulders hunching further and making himself even smaller where he sat as if in an attempt to give himself more security.
A rather peculiar response. Not something unexpected to the deer demon at all however, Vox's unique responses and attitude was something Alastor quite enjoyed about him, it was what made him interesting.
“It's nothing. Well not yet at least..” Vox mumbled quietly, trailing off vaguely. Alastor hummed curiously while quirking a brow. Vox flushed nervously, his heart rate picking up.
Vox had long since discovered his feelings for Alastor but had stayed quiet in fear that it would ruin their friendship. In the beginning, he was content with that, just letting their relationship stay how it always had been - purely platonic. That was the safe option.
It just grew more intrusive the longer he didn't say anything though.
Alastor didn't like to be touched, but was far too content in getting in others’ personal space if it was on his own terms - including Vox’s own. Every time his shoulders or arms or god forbid face were touched briefly by the deer it sent his heart aflutter and he could barely keep himself together.
Even the memory of the last time almost sent him sparking. When he thought of those red eyes looking down at him, claws on either side of his face, he knew that he would surely burn himself up if he didn't finally say something. It was agony to stay silent.
What was the worst that could happen? A rejection? It wasn't like that would end everything they had worked for. In his mind, he knew Alastor enough to surely say he wouldn't up and leave him over this. They'd known each other too long for all of that to be ruined by this... Right?
Alastor watched Vox’s internal strife with amused curiosity as he casually fidgeted with the lip of his glass, waiting expectantly.
Vox cleared his throat, straightening up and trying to put on a confident and sure face. “Alastor, we have known each other for years now. And.. I'd argue to say that we are quite good pals at this point,” Vox began strongly, grinning at Alastor. His grin faltered a bit and his cheeks flushed as he watched the radio demon's eyebrow only raise even further. Vox coughed into his hand. “I would also argue that we would work well together as more than just.. friends… who occasionally work together as purely business partners.” Vox finished, looking at Alastor and trying to find some kind of reassurance.
He didn't find any.
Alastor's ear twitched slightly as if he was trying to better process what he'd just heard. He felt a stab of unsureness that mixed with his stomach dropping inside of him. He didn't show it yet however and instead laughed. “Apologies darling! I'm not quite sure I follow. Are you asking to become permanent business partners?” He hoped that was what he was on about, and not the alternative which had his hackles rising.
Vox gulped, taking the question as genuine confusion about his rather vague choice of words. “N-not quite just that.. listen.. I,” Vox glanced at Alastor's other hand unoccupied by his drink just resting on the bar and tentatively reached out his hand to gently take it in his own. “Alastor, I don't want to just be business partners. I want to be partners in general. I'm in.. Jesus,” Vox gulped, trying to will his mouth to stop being so damn dry. “...I'm in love with you.” Vox’s brow furrowed as he gently squeezed Alastor’s hand in his, looking up at him with a soft expression, vulnerable in a way Vox would normally have squashed instantaneously.
Alastor’s eyes blew open wide making him ironically resemble a deer in headlights, lip curling as he processed the interaction and confession. His usually wide pupils shrunk as he looked down at his palm in Vox’s, utter disgust rocking through him at the sight.
Vox felt his heart break at the way Alastor was looking at him holding his hand, and awkwardly laughed in an attempt to fight the pit of absolute mortification consuming him, making him want to melt into the ground and disappear.
“I- s-sorry I just thought you may have understood. Maybe even felt the same- I mean we've known each other so long and have been close for-” Vox began to say, voice glitching out with heavy emotion. He flinched hard, silenced as Alastor suddenly ripped his hand away hard in contrast to his soft hold.
“No.” Alastor sharply, turning his nose up at Vox with a sneer, irritation filling him at the assumption.
Vox's humiliation at the nature of his rejection grew as Alastor quite literally looked down upon him. “right… sorry. I should have known,” Vox apologised, looking to the side with his cheeks burning under the weight of his gaze. “We have been close so long that I should have known better-” He was cut off by a cold bark of laughter.
“Stop saying that,” Alastor’s anger raised quickly, loud, angry static seeping through his usual facquade of uncaring. “If you think that you know me that way, then you severely overestimate your worth to me, my ‘friend’.”
Alastor was disgusted enough by the declaration, but his insistence that they were ‘close’ was what got under his skin the most. The reason for this? He couldn't quite grasp it at that exact moment. It would of course come later.
Vox let out a laugh this time, disbelief turning into him being more angrier than anything - a laughably similar response to the one Alastor was having simultaneously. “Oh you have to be kidding me! Don't act like we aren't best friends just because you don't like that I have feelings for you, you pompous old-timey radio fuck! We are close friends and you know damn fucking we-”
“No,” Vox felt the statement in every part of himself, it finally being the thing to break his steadily cracking heart into pieces. Vox fell silent, a look of struck anguish written all over his face.“You serve as occasional entertainment for me from your hollow, far lesser medium. Don't you dare act like we were, would be or even could ever be equals.” Alastor spat, rising from his seat.
Vox didn't even react to the insult to his work, feeling all encompassing numbness as the lights overhead flashed once, then twice, then clicked off as Alastor began to grow in size, more substantial antlers growing from his head and flashing green symbols surrounding him threateningly.
The TV demon shook, frozen in place on the bar stool, eyes wide and terrified despite the pervasive feeling of emptiness within him, blue pupils impossibly small as he looked into the rapidly spinning dials in his former best friend's eyes.
Alastor hunched over him and slowly raised his claws to grip either one of Vox's shoulders hard, digging into his turtleneck and skin below painfully, causing the TV demon to wince.
Alastor lowered his face, moving it close to Vox's screen and breathing out deeply, relishing in the way Vox shuddered at his hot breath fanning across his face with a grin that did not reflect his tone or true expression in the slightest.
Alastor then proceeded to stomp upon the shards of years of friendship seemingly with no care at all in one last statement, which brought tears to the already mentally crushed TV demon's eyes.
“You are nothing to me.”
-
But that wasn't true at all.
Alastor had disappeared in a flourish afterwards, leaving Vox shaking and alone in the bar, stalking home, and then absolutely losing his mind in private.
Alastor’s hands shook, slowly ripping through his hair and pulling out a few strands as he snapped back to reality and grit his teeth, lips twitching out of his perfect, unwavering grin for a second again as he looked at the smiling image of them together.
The truth was that he undeniably cared for Vox.
All these hollow, surface-level friendships which served as temporary entertainment that he held with demons like Mimzy paled in comparison to what they had.
Although still seldom, Alastor had shared much more of the truth with him than he had with others; about the same as with Rosie. The difference of course being their public rivalry unlike with Rosie. More even ground in which they were equal threats to one-another's power over the people of pentagram city.
He shuddered at the thought.
They were rivals, and with horror, he realised that he almost did regard Vox as his equal in their friendship. Enough to form a genuine care for him that wasn't solely him simply using Vox to meet his own ends.
They were close, and the fact of that hit him in a terrifying way as his old friend's absence burned an empty pit within him.
He was such an utter fool for letting it get to this point where he needed to destroy every last tie to stay powerful but simply couldn't.
His hands shook as he looked down at the photograph taunting him once again; him knowing he had to destroy it but not being able to.
Shameful weakness.
Alastor let out a frustrated growl, squeezing his eyes shut as he gripped at the photograph and ripped it down the middle.
He slammed either half of the photo on the floor in either hand, looking at the damage done. A literal physical manifestation of the relationship he'd metaphorically ripped down the middle.
Alastor would scoff at the symbolism normally with laughter, thinking it a stupid display of weakness of those far lesser then he if there weren't currently tears falling from his eyes onto the patch of wooden floor in between where either half of the photograph now sat apart.
He grit his teeth at the realisation that he was crying. For the first time since his mother died, he was actually weeping for another. The revelation curled as nauseating disgust for the demon, and he cursed the TV demon more than anything for making him this weak. Weak like him.
He needed to sever ties.
He needed to stop caring.
He needed to erase the TV demon from his life completely.
He knew all of that and yet…
Alastor laughed now - a sound without a lick of sanity behind it-, smiling as he gripped the half of the photo with Vox on it, falling back onto the floor and holding up the torn photo, looking up at it in the dim light of his room
The wooden floor uncomfortably dug into his back, but he didn't care at all. Alastor's laughing slowly died out, turning instead into a sound much like breathless sobbing.
“You will pay for doing this to me.” Alastor's red eyes shook, fluttering between his normal pupils and the dials as he regarded his next action with shaky euphoria, the emotion stretching itself over the logical side of himself screaming to let it go.
Alastor's anger of also being caught up in the silence he was supposed to have control over won over all rational decision making.
I will make sure that you need me just as much as I need you, you new-age trash.
Alastor's lips quivered around his wide grin as he gave a chuckle that was all too forced, pressing the back of his hand across his eyes and wiping away his tears, internally squashing his insecurity down and pretending he didn't care.
Even if he knew he did deep down, all that mattered was that onlookers, and especially Vox, didn't see that.
He would remain unbothered externally while locking the truth up deep inside that in the end the radio demon would be just as obsessed with Vox as he is with him.
-
After a long night of drowning his sorrows, the last thing Vox wanted was to answer the front door and face anybody. He of course, did anyways. If it was a business opportunity, it would hardly be wise to skip out on it. Especially after…
Vox shook his head with a hissing breath, trying to will the memory of the walk of shame he'd done away after apologising to the bartender who'd come out from behind the bar finally after Alastor had gone berserk for the disturbance.
Despite his picture perfect expression that never really fully dulled in the same way others experienced - the perks to having a TV for a head - it was clear that he was still struggling by the way he slumped and his brow was furrowed, eyes squinted; open just a crack to try avoid the thudding stabs of pain through his head with the hangover he was nursing.
It was bullshit to him that even with a flatscreen for a face, he still could manage to get hungover.
The tile floor of his tower, which he had bought recently, clicked under the heels of his shoes, dim fluorescent lights painting everything in a sickly, lifeless glow. It only sought to make his mood even worse.
He grumbled to himself as he reached the door finally, dodging all the unpacked boxes as he went and forcing himself to smile before swinging the heavy door open to greet whoever was there.
Dreams of new business partners and an underlying, pitiful hope that it could even be Alastor coming to apologise or pretend like nothing happened yesterday like after their usual arguments were immediately squashed as he was revealed nothing behind it.
Just the barely inhabited entertainment district he had been working on for a little while now. On the other side of the street a line of TV's, each with a monochrome display playing an ad for a cereal he had gotten a sponsorship with blared monotonously behind their glass displays.
It was clear none of the few people staring blankly at the screens had rung the bell so he could hear the door all the way in his room.
Vox's smile dropped and he then blankly stared into the empty air, tired eyes squinting as he deeply exhaled. He'd kill whatever asshole had rung and run for messing with him on the cameras positioned everywhere later, maybe that would lift his spirits a little bit.
He shut the large glass doors, once again locking them. As he did so, a piece of paper fell to the ground; formerly suspended in the door jam and dislodged by its movement.
Vox watched it flutter to the obnoxiously white tiles of the floor with a raised brow. He could see it was torn, seemingly a face-down picture of some kind from the different colour peaking through from the back under the lights.
“What on...” Vox said, unamused as he leaned down to pick it up.
Another cold wave of sadness that he thought he had numbed out already after last night swept over him as realised it was the first photo that he and Alastor had ever taken together - ripped down the middle so that Alastor was clearly present, a bit of his own face visible in the corner.
Vox’s screen glitched into a line of broken pixels, blurring his quickly souring expression as he realised that Alastor had just been here to deliver half of the photo.
He had been here and left wordlessly. So it really was over. His clawed hands shook as he pressed one against the wall of the entrance hall to steady himself, squinting his eyes shut.
His head spun; a dizzying mixture of his hangover, the overbearing lights all around him, and the god awful feelings of self-hatred, tiredness, heartbreak, and worst of all betrayal all mixing together. The fact that this is how their years of friendship had ended was a crushing weight on his shoulders. It was ridiculous.
In that moment as he had finally decided to confess he swore that they would still stay together even if it wasn't as lovers. That even if Alastor rejected his feelings, they would still maintain their friendship.
He was wrong, of course.
Him keeping his silence had hurt before, but it rang far more now he was all alone.
Vox’s eyes cracked open again despite the way his headache protested, looking back to his other hand which still held the torn photo delicately to avoid any further damage to it.
His blue pupils passively drank in the image of Alastor's smiling face again.
It was all ridiculous.
A screeching sound rang out in the entry room, echoing in an unnerving way through the mostly empty building as his claws dug into the wall he was leaning against, raking deep nail marks into the plaster as just about the most potent wave of anger he thought he had probably felt ever swept itself over every other conflicting emotion inside of him.
He had given so much to that asshole. His time, his dreams, and worst of all his secrets.
All of these were treated like nothing in Alastor's hands.
He was treated like nothing.
Alastor even said it; Vox was nothing to him. Nothing but a past-time.
'Occasional entertainment'
Vox’s chest clenched with burning anger at the insult to how much he was worth as a demon. He was worth far more than most of the pathetic low-lives in this city. Heck, all of them.
He was too good for Alastor even, and yet that snobby hazbin radio announcer had the audacity to treat him in such a way?
Ah yes, the delusionally grandiose rug over his kicked-in ego. A bitter thought which tugged at the back of his mind but got inevitably drowned out by everything else.
The lights overhead hummed louder and louder with the passing seconds.
He let out a growl that petered off into a yell interrupted by glitches, air filled with crackling electricity coming off of him in waves the longer he dwelled upon the state of everything.
-
From down the street, Alastor let out a satisfied chuckle as he saw the lights within Vox's tower flickering aggressively.
The deed was done, and although some pathetic part of him weakly protested, it was crushed where it stood. He turned on his heel, arms folded behind his back while he strided in the opposite direction.
He made his bed and now he had to lie in it.
His eye twitched slightly as a stab of regret once again made itself known.
As cold as it was.
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Damn did my ass get carried away writing this one haha
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lauratheghost · 13 days
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Vessel's couch (probably)
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amaliatheartist · 6 months
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Sometimes you go out in your neighbourhood with your camera with the intention of taking photos (cause you haven’t practiced in a while), and one that you end up taking is of a red and a white couch stacked on top of each other in a way that reminds you of two characters from one of your favourite musicals and how they are spiritually connected to each other.
The photo in question:
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robsheridan · 2 months
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Hard to believe Nine Inch Nails' classic The Downward Spiral is 30 years old today! Here is some detail photography I took of the original album cover painting by Russell Mills for the 10th anniversary deluxe edition release, which I had the unique honor of designing, and somehow that is now 20 year old.
Everyone has that one album that hit at just the right moment of adolescence to change their perspective on music and get them through their teenage angst. The Downward Spiral was that album for me, released as it was in 1994, when I was a freshman in high school (and an absolute banner year for music/films/games all around). I must have stared at the artwork for hours over those years, without even much detail to draw from on its tiny 5” CD slip case. So five years later, when I found myself inexplicably working for Nine Inch Nails, it was surreal to see the actual original painting in the flesh, hanging as it was at the time in Trent Reznor’s office at Nothing Studios, New Orleans.
I was struck by how much dimension and texture there was in the artwork that never translated on that tiny slipcase printing, how much detail was happening in the physical materials of the art: Flies, moths, wires, blood… I had been staring at this “painting” for so long, yet suddenly it was like I had never seen it before. I also noticed that it had aged - the wires had wilted over the years, drooping down from their original position as captured in the original album cover (interestingly, judging by the photo posted today by NIN, the piece has since been restored); a tooth was missing from the other main piece.
That experience stuck with me and it was the first thing I thought about when the task of re-imagining the album package fell upon me in 2004. I wanted to re-photograph the artwork, subtly updating the cover to show that ten years had changed it physically, much like our perceptions of art and music and memories change over time with perspective. I also wanted to dig into the previously unseen details of the work and explore it with my macro lens, so that fans like me, old and new, could have new layers of texture to pore over for hours while listening to a legendary album.
Happy birthday, old friend.
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percyluvr · 3 months
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percy jackson x child of aphrodite!reader summary: you see a trend on tiktok & convince your boyfriend to do it with you wc: 489
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You and Percy had been cuddled up on his bed for over 2 hours. You were both sitting up against the frame of his bed, your head leaning against his shoulder and his head leaning on top of yours. 
Percy's lean but strong arms wrapped around your torso were slowly distracting you from your meaningless Tiktok scrolling, that was, until you scrolled upon a video of a girl tying a pink ribbon to her boyfriend's arm and having him break it by flexing.
Though Percy was slowly drifting off to sleep, when he saw you stop on the video and giggle he was fully awake again. Whenever you got that look on your face he knew you were up to something. 
You turned your head to look at him only to find his gorgeous sea-green eyes staring at you in curiosity. Wou smiled and showed him the video.
"Babe can we pleaseee do this?" You asked him, pouting your lips. 
While Percy was never one to say no to your wishes, you didn't expect him to agree to quickly to this, but you probably should've because he was not only extremely in love with you, but also very adamant about proving to your friends and TikTok followers that he was the best boyfriend of all time. 
"Sugar, you know all you have to do is ask and I'd be willing to do it, no matter what it is," he says, giving you a sweet kiss on the top of your head. 
Being a child of Aphrodite, as well as an avid enjoyer of the color pink, you usually kept a pink ribbon in your pocket, just in case. You fished the ribbon out and, luckily, the ribbon was just long enough to go around his sculpted bicep. 
"Okay, let me take a picture first because you just look too cute," you said, flashing him a quick grin and taking a point-five picture of him that would be sure to go on your monthly instagram photo dump. 
After you took the picture, you switched to TikTok and started recording, and when he flexed his arm to break the ribbon, you swear you could've passed out right then and there, but somehow you managed not to. After rewatching the video, you debated even posting it because you didn't want anyone else to see the beauty that was your boyfriend breaking a ribbon with his sheer muscle, but decided that everyone's eyes deserved to be blessed.
"Damn baby, my muscles look good there, definitely post that," he winked. 
No matter how many times he flirted or winked at you, you could never get used to it. You may be a child of Aphrodite, but you thought there was no way in hell you would ever be able to compare to Percy's beauty, to which he would always disagree because you were his baby and no one could possibly be prettier than you.
a/n: pretend like demigods can use phones just for me pretty pls
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mostlymarvelsstuff · 3 months
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Reader receives Wandas nudes accidentally
Word count: 780
Marvel Masterlist Wanda Masterlist How They React To Masterlist
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  Today has been a really good day for Wanda. She’d nearly gotten the upper hand on Natasha for the first time while training early this morning, had gotten her favorite take out for lunch, then had been able to dress like an absolute bombshell for an undercover mission that she had finished in record timing. So it's really no surprise that she's still riding that adrenaline high even after her post mission shower. 
   Which is likely why she feels so confident upon seeing her body's reflection in the bathroom mirror. Feeling a little adventurous she decides to forgo her pajamas for now and she struts out into her bedroom. She grabs her phone off the top of her nearby dresser before settling herself on the middle of her bed. She's never done anything like this before, but she's seen enough saucy pictures online to know what to do.
   She takes one of her thighs clenched together and a couple of different angles of her breasts before she decides to take one that has her full body in the shot. She raises the phone up and angles it downward, allowing it to capture an aerial view of her kneeling on her bed. Satisfied with how it turned out she makes sure to save it before opening her messages to reply to you. She had to admit she had a huge soft spot for you, so having you check in on her after missions never failed to warm her heart and make her smile.
  After replying she tosses her phone over onto her pillow before getting up to actually put something on. What she hadn’t realized was that she never closed out of her conversation with you, and somehow this gentle toss had hit enough buttons to send her last nude to you
   In the compound's kitchen you squeeze past Sam in order to grab your container of take out from last night that you wanted to reheat. You had been glad to hear that Wanda's mission had gone well and without any problems whatsoever, and you can’t deny the feeling of giddiness that flows through you as you hear another message come through from her
   You pull out your phone and open the message only to be greeted by the shock of a lifetime. The brunette was absolutely bare in the photo and the sight proves to be enough to cause you to panic. You let out a small squeak of surprise as you simultaneously slam the refrigerator door shut and close your messages. You nervously glance over to find Sam, Tony and Natasha all looking at you already, each with an eyebrow raised in question. You nervously give them a nod in form of greeting before promptly exiting the room and making a beeline for a certain witches room. 
   You honestly had no idea if you were even meant to see what you had, for all you knew this was just another, albeit extreme, way she had chosen to tease you as you were certain she had to know by now of your feelings. There was no way you've been able to keep all your thoughts quiet. Not when Wanda was involved.  But regardless of the whys your body seemed to be moving on autopilot to go and get your desired answer, as well as berate the woman for this extreme
   “Wanda!” you shout as your knuckles tap the wood of her door
   Her door opens quickly to reveal her, only now she's dressed in her fuzzy warm pajamas instead of being naked. Which is a relief to you because you're sure you would have keeled over otherwise. You're quick to speak before she can say anything
   “I was in the kitchen Wans! You can’t just send things like that!”
   Confusion clouds her features “I can’t tell you my mission went well?”
   “Don’t play dumb” you plead, “My problem was with your nude not your endearing message”
   You watch her entire face and neck turn pink as her eyes go wide, and it’s only then that you realize this wasn’t some scheme of hers but an actual accident. Which only amuses you. Seems the universe has given you an opportunity to be the one doing the teasing for once
   “My- my nude?” she asks, barely above a whisper
   “Oh, you didn’t send it purposely.” you say with a faux pout. Her breath catches in her throat as she then watches your eyes drink her in as your tongue darts out to wet your lip, “Thats a shame”
    It’s only after you've started to walk away that Wanda's brain begins to function, and she nearly yells after you, “Wait! Y/n!”
Taglist:@wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastorm  @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2 @esposadejoyhuerta @mathxa @reginassweetheart
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eddiesghxst · 11 months
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no thoughts just loser!eddie losing his shit when he sees you over at his house for the first time, rifling through his things like any normal friend does.. but you stumble upon a box.under his bed. it’s like slow motion when he walks into his room and sees you open the lid and he nearly drops a glass of water, literally biting his fist in pain, trying to stop you but then you’d only get more curious of what he was hiding.
you. he has polaroids of you except they’re the dirty cum covered kinds. he has your underwear with his stains in it. he has your perfume bottles, your rings (he would totally get hard seeing how tiny they are compared to his, and imagining the dainty stones on the rings on your ring finger like an engagement stone)
it’s like a fucking shrine for you and he thinks he’s gonna pass out as your eyes widen.
but you only turn to him and smile, and his knees weaken. literally almost fainting when you kiss him because you have definitely slept with his sweatshirts, came to the idea of eddie, etc. he’s just such a fucking loser but that night he makes you cum so much you see stars and he’ll have a scrapbooks worth of polaroids (just from that night alone lol)
anyways do you think you could write a lil something based loosely off that? 🫶
BESTIE I MIGHTVE DIED YES. YES YES YES.
also this ended up longer than I'd intended but who cares its pervy!loser!eddie
18+ — MINORS DNI
word count: 1k
————
Eddie’s not sure if he believes this is real. There’s no way this is real, right? There’s no way he has his best friend naked on his bed, covered in sweat and cum— his cum, at that.
He almost thinks it’s all another one of his sick, perverted dreams, but then he’s reminded that none of those dreams have felt this real. None of his dreams have felt this vivid to where he can actually feel the tremble in your hands as you wrap a fist around his wet cock, the shift of the bed as you clumsily scramble to your knees, the lewd and unmistakable shlick sound of your hand fisting his spent cock. It’s never been this vivid— that’s how he knows this isn’t a dream.
You’re blissed out and cock-drunk as you shuffle to lean on all fours, lowering your mouth to suckle on Eddie’s leaking tip. Your toes curl at the sound of Eddie groaning above you, a hand resting on the back of your head to shove himself further down your throat. “Take it all the way in, that’s it— fuck,” Your center throbs at his words, a wet gagging noise emitting from the back of your throat when Eddie’s tip meets the tight space. He curses with a groan, head dropping back for a moment before he looks back down at you with a lazy smirk.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you gag on my dick, sweetheart.”
You whine, your hips grinding back against nothing, the cool breeze of his room sending shivers up your spine when it graces the wet heat of your cunt. Around you, scattered on the bed, are the many polaroids you had just discovered earlier. Snapped photos of you in bed, in the shower, getting dressed in your room; all images that would’ve sent anyone else running for the hills. Eddie was so sure you would never speak to him again when you found that box full of all things you, but to his surprise (and sinful delight), you were just as fucked up as Eddie, if not more.
Eddie’s eyes dart all over the bed; polaroids, lace panties and matching bras, dainty jewelry, lipsticks, and perfume bottles. Eddie Munson was a perverted thief, and it somehow landed him balls deep down your throat. 
He reaches down and picks up a particular Polaroid, one of his favorites; a picture of you laid on your stomach in your bed, one leg hiked up to form a comfortable sleeping position. You’d forgone your sleeping shorts this night, and Eddie took it upon himself to jack off and cover your ass in sticky ropes of his cum, snapping a photo as the white substance dripped down between the folds of your ass to stain your pretty panties (Eddie stole those panties that same night).
He takes the picture and holds it up between two fingers. “So many nights of wasted cum… you’ve got a lot to make up for, sweet girl.” His voice is low and teasing, and you whine against him, nuzzling his cock further down your throat until your nose brushes against the curly hairs surrounding his base.
Eddie’s knuckles are tight against your scalp when he pulls you off his cock, shivering at the wet gasp you take, bleary eyes blinking up at him as your spit drips onto his thighs. “Think you’ve been good enough for it?” He wraps a hand around himself and rubs his throbbing tip against your lips, humming in approval when you open your mouth to offer your tongue. He slaps himself against your tongue a few times, chuckling when you whine and squeeze your thighs together. You can feel the sticky feeling of his cum and your arousal sliding against the insides of your hot thighs, and your eyes roll at the sensation. You lean forward and nuzzle against his cock, “Please, Eds— want it so bad. I’ve been so good, I have.” Your words are nearly slurred; the only thing on your mind is the overwhelming urge you have to feel Eddie’s cum in the back of your throat.
You don’t see Eddie reaching for his camera, too focused on licking your way down to his balls. “Fuck— look at me, sweetheart, give me those pretty eyes.”
You slowly blink up at Eddie, wet lashes fluttering and pouty lips grazing his cock as you gaze at the camera. A flash and a snapping sound echo through the room before a white card come out the bottom, a curse falling from Eddie’s lips as he shakes the paper and tosses it to the side for later. He nods down towards you, “Love on it, baby; show me how much you love my cock.” You don’t wait for another second, licking a thick stripe up his cock, rounding your lips around his tip to suck eagerly. Eddie takes another picture, and you whine.
“Shit, I’m gonna come— keep sucking baby, keep taking me in.”
You shuffle forward, nose brushing against his pelvis once again, and Eddie takes it as permission to secure a hand atop your head and begin fucking himself into the back of your throat. Both of your hands are fisted into the sheets below you, watery eyes gazing up at the blissed-out Eddie above you. His hips falter during the last few thrusts; he doesn’t last much longer. 
“I’m gonna come… don’t swallow, okay?” You nod as best as you can, and without further directions, Eddie’s cum floods your mouth until you nearly choke on it. 
He pulls out of your mouth with a moan, instructing you to open your mouth and show him your tongue, which you immediately obey. He reaches for the camera once more, snapping one picture with you on all fours, gazing up at the camera with your tongue out, white sticky cum coating the inside of your mouth. He takes a second picture, this time with his hand cradling your jaw. The third and last picture he takes is with his hand still cradling your jaw, but his thumb is now pressed against your tongue, smearing his sticky mess across your tastebuds.
And when he tosses the newly printed photos into the pile of new Polaroids, he catches a glimpse of one clear picture of your pussy freshly fucked and covered in his cum. Eddie can’t help it when his cock twitches against his thigh once again.
It’s safe to say that Eddie had to get a new box the next day <3
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devilfic · 6 months
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❝late-bloomer❞
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plot: you've never been kissed before. on a completely unrelated note, what if your best friend offered to be your first? pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: post-tasm 2, gwen stacy mention, angst, self-deprecating thoughts about being undesirable and insecurity in love, best friends to wouldn't you like to know, eventual fluff, attempts at andrew garfield accurate rambling, he definitely talks you through it I mean who said that. words: 4.3k.
a/n: entirely self-indulgent because I wrote this after crying over being a late-bloomer for an hour ahahaha
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Peter is reading something for research when you suck in a breath and finally ask, "What was your first kiss like?"
You hear his voice die in his throat. The small whispering of test results and calculations fall short, but you don't dare to look back. You're hunched forward so he won't see the way your eyes burn and brim with tears unshed because if he did, he'd ask about it and then you'd really start crying. Instead, you busy yourself with your phone, idly scrolling as if your question was pure curiosity alone.
You watch his ankles uncross, hear him sit up and then lean against the headboard again, fumbling for your train of thought, "Uh... sticky, 'cause I was six," Peter laughs, "You should know. You're the one who kissed me."
No matter how many times he tells you this, you can't remember the day you'd been so bold as to plant one right on Peter Parker's lips. You felt like you'd remember that, but you'd been such an impulsive child back them. Bolder. Thicker-skinned.
But Peter remembers, and so does Aunt May who swears up and down that she'd caught it on camera ("If only I could find that damned photo album"). You're the only one who doesn't. It's like it never happened, "No, God... no. I mean like your first real kiss."
"Like with tongue?" You hear the humor in his voice and even your sullen mood doesn't stop you from smacking his knee. "I dunno what you're talking about. That kiss was real to me."
"I'm serious, Pete."
He hums. You're so, so tempted to look back and see what he's thinking, but it would give you away too easily. "It was... it was a kiss. I mean, Gwen- you know. You know. I was crazy about her. I didn't think I just... kissed her."
"How did it feel? Do you know?"
"I felt like I needed to do it. I felt like if I didn't, I'd throw up. Not actually, just... like I'd explode with all the feelings I had for her."
Your finger hovers over a tweet. In your wondering about that feeling of almost nearly exploding, you try to picture that rooftop kiss that Peter had relayed to you between classes, with hushed whispers and childish laughter. It was windy, and I was breathless, he'd said, and I wanted to lay myself bare. And I just... pulled her in. Shot a web and swept her up and kissed her. I think I've lost my mind. You remembered pressing your back against the school lockers to cool yourself as you imagined the scene, the steps it took for you to settle the uneasy churn in the pit of your chest. The euphoria and panic upon realizing that your Peter was growing up.
You felt overwhelmed just imagining it. You barely hear Peter ask why you want to know. "No reason. Was just curious."
You think that Peter accepts that as good enough reason because the room is silent again. You keep scrolling, keep taking subtle deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. You see a picture of a couple on your timeline and scroll faster.
A few minutes of peace pass before Peter broaches the subject again, "What about you?"
"Hm?"
"I don't think you've ever told me about your first kiss."
Your shoulders tense. No good effort hides the strain in your voice, "I haven't?"
A beat passes. You glance over your shoulder and see Peter staring right at you, his lips upturned in a small, resting smile, but his eyes are inquiring. He's trying to read you. Perhaps he's just noticed the heavy cloud hanging overhead. "Nope." He pops the "P". He's waiting.
You could lie. You could say it was Flash Thompson who stole it, mention that field trip to the zoo in middle school when he'd sneaked next to you at the peacock exhibit and pestered you about you and Peter. Peter wouldn't question Flash about it. Even if they'd made amends, any conversation about him would send him over the edge with memories of his childhood bully and how much he pitied you for having your first kiss with him. And all of you were far too old now; Flash Thompson had gone to another state to play football the minute he got his diploma. It'd be so inconsequential, such an easy lie.
But the longer it takes you to deliberate on it, the worse it makes you look. You should've offered up an answer easily, jovially, unbothered. It should be inconsequential. Anything more and Peter would call your bluff because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.
At some point, you feel the brush of a lone finger at the base of your spine and it startles you. Peter's slipped his finger under your shirt, stroking along the middle of your back, "I won't laugh. If that's what you're thinking." He says softly.
Of course Peter wouldn't laugh at you. As much as your relationship was teasing, he knew where you were tender.
But it wasn't laughing you worried about.
"I know." You say, in lieu of a real answer. You fear you've given yourself away.
Now there are two fingers stroking your skin, "You don't... you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," but you can hear the discomfort in his voice when he says it, like the thought that it's something you don't want to tell him concerns him, "it's up to you."
Just lie. Your breath shudders and immediately you regret it. There's no way he hadn't heard that.
Before you can recover, you're feeling the heat of his entire hand on your back now as it slips further up, as he sits up in bed beside you and rests his chin on your shoulder. The closeness of his breath makes you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. Did I push? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
You struggle to shake your head, but now your eyes are burning again and you don't think you can stop the tears this time, "You didn't." You insist.
"You're crying, bub," he laughs (not mockingly, never mockingly, never when you cry) and reaches a thumb up to brush away the first warm tear, "what's wrong?"
There's a million things you could say. I've never been kissed before, I don't know what it feels like to be longed for like that, I want to be longed for like that, why haven't I been longed for like that? But it all feels so heavy. Peter picks his chin up to kiss your shoulder and that really does it, "It never happened."
Peter's lips still against your skin. Their warmth slowly peels away, though you feel his breath ghost over the curve of your bone, "What hasn't?"
"A kiss. A first kiss, Peter. I've never had one."
"That's..." Peter sounds almost shocked, disbelieving. He never picks up that thought.
You turn your head away and toss your phone onto the bed, no longer interested in pretending you could distract yourself with anything else. You try to shrug your shoulder out from underneath Peter's mouth but he's quick, the hand at your back locking around you and you can't escape him even though you want to, even though you need to get away from his sweet smile and lovely heartbeat that thuds a little faster against your side.
It was already so much to tell him you hadn't had your first kiss yet, to admit to your best friend who—despite popular Midtown High opinion—has always been so irresistible to lovers, that you haven't gone as far as something so... simple. Something teenagers running your old stomping grounds have probably experienced ten times over by now. You don't think you can handle his pity too, "Peter, please."
"There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace."
You hiss through your teeth. You don't mean to, but the spite overwhelms you like red hot heat for a minute, "It's easy to say that when you've done it already."
You catch Peter's eye and immediately regret it. His untamed brows are drawn together, expression more analyzing than pitying. Even though you're brimming with feelings, he seems as if he's trying to wade through them, search for the gnarled root at the center of it all.
Then, and he says this so carefully that the meaning takes a moment to catch up with you, "There's nothing wrong with you."
It's the sincerity that does it. You shove his hand off of you, jerk away from him in a scramble to stand, but Peter is fast and lithe and he's always been two steps ahead of you even before the bite. He's up on his feet before even you are, coming to stand in your way when you go to grab for your bag, "Peter, move."
"Look, can we... can we talk about this?"
"I really don't want to. Move."
"Why are you shutting me out?"
"Because I want to go home. Move."
"Is it because of what I said?"
"Yes!" You blurt, growing frustrated the longer he blocks your path, "yes. Because I'm sick of being told there's nothing wrong with me when clearly..." Your voice tapers off, afraid to give him the reason he needs to worry about you, "Please. I'm just tired. It'll go away on its own, it always does, I just can't be here right now."
The standoff between you two lingers, feels like you might have to fight him just to escape. It takes everything in you just to keep eye contact with him and not burst into tears.
Peter clearly doesn't want to let you go. You can see that genius brain of his running every possible scenario in his mind in which he convinces you to stay, cry it out, leave happier than you came. None of them come soon enough. You brush past him when he realizes he's got nothing, and even the hand that grabs for you is halfhearted, shrugged off with little force.
"I'll see you later, Pete."
You let his front door shut on its own.
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It hasn't been great.
What typically took a few hours to shake off had settled over you like a dark cloud ever since you'd stormed out of Peter's place. Even though you texted him like everything was fine (and dodged any phone calls so he wouldn't hear the truth with those freakishly good best friend senses of his), you had yet to see him again. Had yet to let yourself be seen.
You told yourself that it was just you missing Peter, and you believed that to be true, but you also believed that when he looked you in the eye and told you "there's nothing wrong with you", you hadn't been prepared for the nakedness of it all. He'd dug deep, right to the source. That kind of thing was hard to move past.
So you avoided him. If he came by your place, you pretended you weren't home. If he showed up at your work to take you to coffee, you lied and told him you had plans with a coworker. It had been several days now and you felt more and more cowardly by the minute.
It was Peter. Of all people, it was Peter. Your best friend. You could tell him anything (most things, some kept a little closer to the heart). You should be able to.
And it was silly. Being embarrassed about not kissing anyone. Plenty of people were in the same boat as you and they didn't ice their best friend out about it.
Ugh, now you were just making yourself feel worse.
You'd had enough. You'd end this pity party today. As you make your way through your apartment door, you promise yourself that after you've showered, after you've made yourself a filling dinner, after you've settled into bed, you'd call Peter and ask him to meet for pizza this weekend. You'd talk like civil adults who understand that life isn't a race. You'd share your couch, laugh about the whole thing, and maybe, just maybe, the hollowness in your chest that longed for someone's desire to fill it would finally-
He's sitting in your kitchen.
Legs dangling off the island, mask rolled up to his nose, and a spoon clattering out of his mouth and into a bowl of ice cream. Your front door shuts gently behind you.
You stare at each other for a few seconds. Then you glance through your bedroom door, cracked open just enough for you to see the breeze rustling your curtains. You turn back to Peter, who's cleaning off his bottom lip of raspberry sorbet. "Did you climb through the window? You have a key."
Peter sets the bowl down beside him, shrugs, "You weren't returning my calls."
Your shoulders sag and you drop your things to the floor, "Peter-"
"No, no," you watch him slide off the countertop and bounce over to you, and the nearness you aren't prepared for makes you back away an inch or two, "No Peter. I'm not Peter. I'm Spider-Man. See?" He gestures to the suit.
You reach your hand up and pinch his exposed cheek, then narrowly avoid his teeth before he tries to nip you, "I'm not in the mood. I said I'd call you later, I'm just... busy."
"Busy avoiding your best friend."
You can feel him trail after you as you walk away, beginning to undress. He catches your coat when you throw it toward the couch and hangs it up all neat on a hook. He kicks your shoes to a wall and tugs your belt from your fingertips once you've undone it. Then, unexpectedly, he hooks said belt around your waist and yanks you back to face him.
The momentum throws you fully into his chest but he's sturdy, unmoving as you grip his shoulders and give him the most hostile look you can muster. You attempt to wiggle out of the trap but he pulls the belt tighter, forcing you closer, and then you start to panic as the space between you both disappears, "I haven't been avoiding you, I just needed space." You quickly explain.
"And I get that," he admits, "but you scared me. I've never seen you like that before. Not with me. Not ever."
Of course he hadn't. It was why you kept all of this a secret in the first place. Because you knew he'd worry, and you knew that there would be nothing he could do to fix it. Not like he usually could.
"It was a... brief lapse in self-esteem. That's all. You're making it into a bigger deal than it should be."
"It's not a big deal?"
"No! That's what I keep trying to tell you."
"So it doesn't matter at all."
"Correct."
"Right."
"It's just an arbitrary milestone that means nothing." You grip the leather of your belt but you're nothing against his superhuman strength. Pleading with your eyes, you do your best not to slip back into that vulnerable place all over again. Peter made you feel safe to do that. Way too safe to do that. "I promise. I'm not avoiding you."
You get sick of staring into the whites of his mask and so you grab the edge of it and pull it up to his hairline, little tufts of curls poking out as his face is fully revealed to you. You stare into those sharp, probing eyes of his, forcing yourself to stand the test of Peter Parker's perception.
Suddenly, you're released.
You stumble back a bit, the belt clanking against the floor, as Peter throws his arms up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I get it. I should've let you breathe the other night. I was just worried, is all."
You smile, "And I appreciate that."
Peter quickly glances at you and then away, making an exaggerated show of kicking imaginary dust off the floor. "First kisses really mean nothing then, huh?"
"Zilch. Nada."
"So... doesn't matter when it is, who it is..."
You watch him carefully, "If this is about when we were six-"
"No, no, I know that didn't count. You don't even remember it," his face contorts in a wince, "I was just thinking. Something."
Your eyes narrow, "Uh-huh."
"Well, I mean, is that why? Because you don't remember it? Or... is it because it was me?"
"The kiss?" Peter blows a raspberry, looking more bashful by the second, and nods without looking at you. "It's... it's because we were six. And we didn't know what we were doing. I was just mimicking what we saw. We didn't know anything."
"And now we do."
"Yeah. What are you getting at, Pete?"
He sits on the back of your couch and kicks his feet out in front of him. "If all that matters is that we both know what we're doing, and a first kiss is just a meaningless milestone to you, then I thought that maybe we could give it another go. You know. So when a real kiss comes along that actually means something, you'll have an idea of how it's supposed to go."
You're six years old again.
You and Peter Parker are sitting in the dirt, mouths covered in sticky ice cream that the summer sun melted right up. You're both talking about Flash Thompson's trip to Florida and the hilarious sunburn he came back with when you spot an elderly couple across the park, pressing their mouths together over and over.
You're looking over at Peter and asking about it, sure it couldn't possibly feel good, and he's telling you that when Uncle Ben kisses May good morning in the kitchen he always looks away because it's gross.
And you're thinking... you start thinking something.
You're thinking it would be funny—that Peter would hate you for it, but you're just so curious—and you're pressing your lips to his so quickly that he doesn't get a chance to pull back before you're giggling in the grass. And May's voice flutters in the background, a shrill and delighted, "I caught that!" that makes you both turn tail and run toward the swings.
Peter's still staring at you, waiting.
Part of you feels like it's pity. Like he doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Like he doesn't know how else to fix it, because he has to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to be your hero.
But the other part? A restless and selfish part wants to take it; it's curious.
You take a step forward, the two of you watching each other, waiting to see if the other might back out at the last second. He stays exactly where he is, legs parting slowly, and the silent invitation makes you feel hot under the collar.
When you're standing between them, you feel his knees bump your legs on either side, his hands planted firmly into the couch cushions. You notice the grip he has on them, "Are you sure?" You pause.
Peter tilts his head in that strange, spider-like way. As if he cannot fathom why would you ask such a thing, "Of course. I'm the one who offered."
Your hands shake as they consider where to put themselves, and you get about halfway to his shoulders before he takes them and places them on either side of his face, mumbling something about how it might help you feel more in control, quell your nerves a bit.
Peter's cheeks feel so warm in your hands, and you can feel each swallow he makes the longer you take in his expression. "Should... I move in first? Or..."
He laughs, short and high-pitched, "I guess I can go first."
You know you're supposed to close your eyes, but as he comes in close, you can't help but keep them lidded, taking in every twitch of his mouth as he inclines his neck, shuts his eyes, and kisses you.
Your brain reacts a half-second after his lips touch yours. You've probably stopped breathing, and you have to force your lips to unstiffen so that you could actually feel him. His lips are a little wet—he'd been rolling his bottom lip between his teeth since he'd sat down—and they taste faintly of raspberry. They're not cold though, and the feeling isn't unpleasant.
You don't know how to react to it, don't know if you should move or not, and so instead you curl your fingers into the silk of his nape and wait for the pounding in your chest to stop.
You feel him mouth at your bottom lip just once, and then pull back. "How'd that feel?"
You recall the sensations that went through your brain (all that it can recall anyway, when Peter's looking at you like that), "Slimy...?"
Peter's face falls, and then he bursts into laughter, shakes with the force of it, and drops his head on your shoulder. "There's got to be a better word than that."
"I don't know! I was just thinking about the feeling."
"I don't want to know what it felt like, I want to know how it made you feel. Did you like it? Hate it?"
"I don't know. I'm- I'm nervous."
"Hey, that's okay," his hand rubs your hip, warming the skin there, and you find yourself leaning into it for comfort, "everyone is their first time."
Peter is so, so gentle. Your heart feels like it might give out, but a little less now that it's over and he's not looking at you in disgust. You don't know what you expected, but... this was better. By far. That part of you that felt selfish takes over again, "Can we try again?"
His eyes widen a bit, but he's immediately nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can try as- as many times as you want."
You nearly choke on your spit. "Can we?" Your voice comes out a meek whisper.
Peter nods. He brings his legs in so that he's sitting properly now. "Of course. You wanna move me? I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit if you want."
"No, I like you here," you say, feeling your stomach tighten when his thighs lock against your legs, "um. Is there anything I can work on? How did I feel?"
"Warm. Soft. Just try to loosen up, alright?"
You force yourself to release the tension in your body and move in first this time. Images of rom-com kisses flood your brain, how you memorized their rhythms and the placement of their mouths. You try your best to mimic it, make it feel as good as it seemed to look, when you feel one of Peter's hands slip behind your head and angle you away just a hair, "You're tensing up," he warns, making you pause, "it doesn't have to be perfect. It's just you and me. Breathe for me, okay? Turn your brain off."
You feel your stomach flip a bit, and nod along mindlessly. You try again.
This time, it feels a little different. Not wet or stiff, even if it is still awkward. It almost overwhelms you when, as you're mouthing at Peter's lip, he returns the favor, but you keep your brain empty. You can't focus on the details because it won't feel right. You can't focus on the way it looks because it won't feel right.
So you focus on Peter. You focus on the hand on your hip drawing you closer and the hand on your neck rubbing circles into the knot there. You focus on the feeling of his suit under your pinkies. You focus on the small hum he makes when, with quite a bit of building up to it, you pass your tongue over his.
Almost as soon as you do it, you pull back. Peter is flushed and it makes the beauty marks on his skin stand out more. His eyelashes flutter, a half-smile on his lips that are kissed red. By you.
You open your mouth to ask but he beats you to it, "I think you've got it now... yeah. Definitely." You're so relieved you sigh, sagging away from him, but he catches your hands before they can can leave his face completely and holds them in his lap. You don't dare move them. "How about you? Did you like it?"
You nod, speechless.
Peter laughs and squeezes your hands in his, "Okay, good. Good. I love you, you know? I know it doesn't... replace what you're looking for, but you're wonderful. You're insane and funny and stunning and there's nothing wrong... you know? You're perfect. Take it from your loser best friend who had to get bit by a radioactive spider to get to first base."
You snort, "I mean, if that's all it takes..."
Peter shakes his head and stands, but his hand remains on your neck as you follow his eyes to his full height, "So, we good? No more ignoring me?" You bite your lip, nodding your head. Peter smiles. "Good, cause I'm starving and I need you to split a pizza with me."
"You just polished off a tub of ice cream and you're still hungry?"
"I'm a growing spider, honey. And I missed you." Without warning, the hand on your hip hooks around your back and hoists you into his body, throwing you off balance once more, "I'll swing us there and cover cheese sticks too. Sound good?"
You know you don't have much room to argue when he's being so generous. And not when he's beaming at you, so genuinely relieved to have you back that it would knock you off your feet if he wasn't holding you up.
He was right; this wouldn't replace what you were looking for, but it gets pretty damn close. Closer than you expected, actually. But it's just the adrenaline. This didn't change anything.
Did it? You stare up at Peter.
"We can try as many times as you want."
You might have a very different problem than you started with.
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taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes
1K notes · View notes
arhvste · 2 years
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“i was wondering if i could have your instagram?”
your heart hammered against your chest as the anticipation weighed down on your shoulders as you stood in front of the confused boy in front of you.
“ah… i’ll have to get back to you on that.” iwaizumi replied quietly as your stomach dropped.
“oh… okay then thanks anyway!” you forced a friendly tone out to mask the utter humiliation and upset that had washed over your mood entirely upon the few words the dark haired boy offered.
the rest of the class was a blur to you. you spent majority of the time staring blankly ahead of you to face the backs of forgettable classmates heads. the only classmate that mattered to you in this particular class had rejected you just before the teacher walked in so from this moment on you had no motivation to pay attention or look forward this class.
the end bell rang and you mindlessly threw your belongings into your bag before dragging yourself through the halls to your locker to collect the rest of your belongings and head home. you didn’t even bother to wait for your friends, no. they could wait until you were in the comfort of your own home to hear you scream over the phone how embarrassed you were as a result of the rejection over something as casual as asking to be instagram buddies.
‘what sort of loser gets rejected for that?’ you almost had to laugh it was so stupid. ‘whatever.’ you thought as your feet carried you to the front gates of the school. you’d have to apologise to your friends in advance before blowing up the groupchat with your over dramatic tendencies but a little tlc from your friends was needed at this vital milestone of your life; your first ever rejection.
upon the endless string of thoughts running through your mind as you walked, you failed to pick up on the voice that had been calling after you repeatedly from behind you. you tended up at the feeling of someone gently tugging on your sleeve out of nowhere but that surprise was nothing compared to the surprised you felt upon seeing the culprits gaze.
“iwaizumi?” you asked as your classmate caught his breath. “you on a mission or something?” he huffed a little as you frowned. “yes. a mission to get home, so see ya!” you replied quickly as your pace in walk picked up again.
before you could march off, a hand tugging on the strap of your bag stopped you before you could flee the scene which happened to include the last face on earth you wanted to see right now. “before you run off again,” he started before pulling his phone out his pocket. “my instagram. you said you wanted it?”
you looked at the device in his hands with confusion. zero followers, zero posts, zero following and a cute yet handsome photo of iwaizumi in place of the profile picture icon. “i didn’t have one earlier when you asked, so i made one during that class so you could add me.” he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from you as you fought the urge to pounce on him and bite him.
‘he’s so fucking cute.’
you tapped your own handle into his phone and followed yourself before grabbing your own phone to immediately follow him back. a weird sense of pride came over you seeing his follower and following go up by one and that one being you.
“you didn’t have to do that.” you insisted as you handed his phone back to him. “nah, i should’ve made one ages ago but i just never got around to it.” he admitted, the heat on his face finally calming down. “but now you can message me if you ever need anything… or if you just wanted to you know, talk?“ he muttered as the urge to bite the shit out of this man piqued once more.
“i’ll definitely message you if i need anything or if i want to talk but you can do the same too!” you hummed as you slipped your phone back into your pocket.
“i’ll keep that in mind.” he smiled before turning around to walk away. “please do.” you shot back before turning to make your own way home. offering a quick exchange in waves you marched home ready to text your groupchat about what had just happened until you felt your phone vibrate.
‘@iwa.hajime has sent you a message: see you tomorrow :)’
on second thought. maybe your group chat could wait.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 8 months
Note
Hey! So I had this Hurt comfort fic idea with Charles where she is engaged to him. Have you seen the video about the crowd in Montreal surrounding him? So something like them arriving and he's signing and clicking pics through the crowd holding her hand and the crowd and paps goes a bit haywire and she is separated and then visibly very hurt and injured because of that. And Charles is angry and protective, with the "Idc about myself but if anyone touches/hurts you I lose it" or something similar. Add drama and spice as you feel
Thank you Babe ❤️
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A Step Too Far || CL16
Warnings: fluff, angst, implied smut WC: 1.9k
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Charles could remember the first time he met your father. Obviously it wasn’t the first first time but it was the first time as your boyfriend, and that made it more important than any of the times they met in the paddock. Toto had gripped his hand tightly as they shook, pulling the younger driver closer to whisper in his ear.
“That’s my daughter, Charles, you put her above all else. It’s my job to protect her, and I’m trusting you here.”
“I understand, sir. I’ll keep her safe.”
“What did he say?” you asked as you left for your date.
“Nothing, ma chérie,” Charles assured you with a smile and a kiss to your cheek.
For three years he had kept that secret promise religiously, even as his popularity grew beyond his wildest expectations. He couldn’t walk down the street without being recognised, crowds gathering and people asking for photos or signatures. It wasn’t exactly new for you having grown up the way you did, but Charles’ fans were far more excitable and passionate than the ones who met your father.
Monza 2023
Everywhere you looked it was a sea of red supporters, the tifosi out in force to celebrate the third and fourth places Ferrari had taken in the race. You could see the equal parts of pride and disappointment on Charles’ face as he watched Carlos take the third step on the podium.
After heading back to his driver room, he collapsed into a chair with a groan and hung his head in his hands. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head, wrinkling your nose at the sweat that dampened his dark hair. “That was a hell of a fight, baby.”
His grunt told you he thought otherwise but he placed his hand over yours and gave it a soft squeeze. “I almost had it, amour.”
“I know.” You nuzzled into his neck until his shoulders bunched up and he wriggled with a laugh at his ticklish spot.
“Okay, okay, no more moping,” he said as he stood up and turned to face you. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” You held up your hand that had a sparkly new ring resting upon it. “Or I wouldn’t have said yes.”
“I’m very glad you did.” He smiled as he took your hand and kissed the engagement ring. “I need to shower. There’s room for one more…”
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Charles kept you tucked close to his side as he made his way through the lines of fans to where his car was pulling up. You were running late once again, after being distracted while you were meant to be getting dressed to go out for dinner. He left your side for only a moment to open your door but that moment was all it took as the metal barriers separating the crowd came crashing down and they surged forward.
The sight and the sound gave you a fright and you stepped back instinctively. “Charles!” He turned at your panicked tone and watched with horror as your heeled foot missed the curb, twisting painfully as you fell. For a second he lost sight of you in the sea of red and he was spurred into action.
“Back up! Get out of my way!” he shouted to the crowd as he pushed his way to you. Rage filled him as he found you crumpled beside his car, arms wrapped protectively around your head while the bodies finally started to give you room. Tears blurred your vision as pain radiated from your ankle and suddenly you were weightless as a familiar pair of arms picked you up. “Amour, are you hurt?”
You could hardly hear him as the crowd demanded his attention, screaming as they waved hats and posters in his direction. The look he sent them should have been warning enough but they were too high on his presence to notice.
“Amour?”
“My ankle,” you admitted with a wince as it was jostled.
He released a torrent of expletives under his breath as he carried you to the driver’s seat and climbed in with you on his lap, your legs hanging over onto the passenger seat. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he apologised as he kissed your temple and pulled out of the hotel.
“It’s not your fault, Charles, I should have been paying more attention.”
“You got hurt because of me, that’s the only reason they were there. Shit.” His eyes darted to the centre screen as it announced an incoming call from Toto and he hit the accept button on the steering wheel.
“You haven’t lost your watch again, have you?” Toto greeted, his voice thick with amusement.
“We are almost there,” he replied as he turned onto the street where the restaurant reservation was booked. “We just ran into some trouble with some fans.”
The silence was deafening until it was broken by the scratch of a chair being pushed back on a wooden floor followed by the click of your father’s footsteps. “Trouble?”
You watched the door to the restaurant open and your father ignored the concierge as he stepped to the curb Charles was pulling up to. “This should be fun.” Charles grimaced at your words and ended the call as Toto tucked his phone away and opened the passenger door.
Toto stared at the empty seat before dragging his eyes across the space to find you on your fiancé’s lap. “Hi papa.”
“Don’t hi me,” he tutted as he walked around and moved the valet along with a wave of his hand. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” you assured him as you accepted his hand out of the sports car. “You two are as dramatic as each other.”
The flare of pain was sudden and impossible to hide when your shoe touched the pavement, the joint weakly giving underneath you. If not for Charles behind you it would have been much worse but he took your weight and kept you upright.
“What the fuck have you done to my daughter, Leclerc?” You found yourself in a tug of war, but you were the rope. Your father tried to pull you out of his arms but your yelp of pain froze the very air. He relinquished his fight and raised his hands before pointing a damning finger at Charles. “Hospital, now.”
“But I’m hungry,” you whined as he instantly moved to follow the order, stepping back towards the Ferrari. “Can’t we go after dinner, please?”
You turned your pleading eyes to your father and watched his resolve weaken.
“No,” Charles interrupted before Toto could agree and you turned to him with a look of betrayal. “Don’t look at me like that, amour. I can’t bear to see you in pain, especially when it’s my fault.”
“At least you take ownership,” Toto muttered. “Susie and I will bring you dinner. Go.”
There was no room to argue, not that Charles would. He respected your father too much for that.
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“You need to make a statement,” Toto said tiredly as he sat in the hospital chair opposite Charles. You were on the bed separating them, enjoying the lack of pain while the drugs did their job and waiting for the moonboot to be fitted. “Something like this cannot be allowed to happen again.”
“He didn’t exactly give them permission, papa.”
Charles cut you a look out the corner of his eye before nodding to Toto. “I’ll make sure of it, sir. It might be time to hire some security.”
Your father barely hid his scoff as he muttered, “Better late than never.” Toto sat up straighter and rubbed his tired eyes. “These are things you will need to think about even more in the future, especially when you have children of your own - you’ll realise you can’t wait until something bad happens before making changes. You need to start thinking about the future now, son.”
Charles’ stare turned out the window as he took the advice seriously. You could see the contemplation set in hard lines across his face. The look turned sad when the nurse arrived with the moonboot you would need to wear for at least two weeks and he started to withdraw into himself as he pulled his phone out. Only a few moments later you saw your phone light up with a notification that he had posted to his Instagram.
“Good man,” Toto said as he read the statement that in no uncertain terms warned his fans there would be consequences if they couldn’t respect the boundaries set.
“Was that really necessary?”
“Yes,” they both answered adamantly.
“You are all set to go, darling,” the nurse said with a soft smile. “Rest up, and if there are any concerns just come right back.”
After thanking her you hobbled along, sandwiched between your father and fiancé, to the underground car park where the car was waiting.
“I’ll come back to your hotel, make sure you get inside safely,” your father said as he opened your door and kissed your cheek.
“His fans have probably all run away by now.”
“I think you’re underestimating the tifosi. I’d rather not take the risk.”
Toto was right, because if anything there were even more fans lining the entrance to the hotel than before. Only this time there was also more security.
You were quickly ushered through to the quieter reception area where Toto shared a look that said ‘I told you so’ before bidding a goodnight and heading his own way back. The elevator ride to the penthouse suite was silent and it wasn’t the comfortable silence you were used to. It grew heavier with each level and you were itching to get out of the confined space by the time the doors opened.
“It’s not your fault,” you whispered as Charles pulled his shirt off and sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “Don’t blame yourself.”
“I broke my promise,” he said as his shoulders sagged further, like he was moments from imploding on himself. “I swore to your father I would protect you.”
“Charles, I love you, but you can’t protect me from the world - no matter what my father thinks.” You crawled over the duvet and onto his lap so you could cup his face. “I don’t blame you and it is me who is going to be marrying you, not him.”
His brows pinched together. “I hadn’t even thought about children.”
“What?”
“After the wedding, having children - what that would be like in this environment. I hadn’t thought about it. I obviously knew it’s what I wanted for us down the line but now…it’s a little scary to think what might happen to them.”
“Char, there’s no rush. We don’t know what our future will look like in five years, or ten.” You stroked his cheeks and dipped your head forward to kiss his pouting lips. “Just focus on the here and now, baby. Forget what happened out there. In here, it’s just you and me, and a king sized bed that’s far too neatly made.”
“It is pretty neat.”
“So why don’t we mess it up?”
His eyes flicked to your legs draped over his, lingering on the bulky boot. “Amour?”
Your fingers were already running down his chest, reaching for the waistband of his trousers he had worn to dinner. “You won’t hurt me. You could never hurt me. I trust you.”
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Text
HC the only reason Miguel gave Hobie a watch in the first place is because he genuinely doesn't know what Punk is
Miguel most likely thinks Punk is just some really old Boomer style that Hobie is WAY too into.
Cause like let's be real, he's from 2099 - he probably can't tell a punk from a greaser from a grunge person from an emo. To Miguel
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He probably looks at Hobie the way WE look at Noir.
He probably can't even understand Hobie.
Pop Quiz!! If you met someone from like 1915 RIGHT NOW would you know if they had electricity and phones and photos and radios yet? Were they still using telegraphs? Could women vote yet??
I don't know!!!!!! Couldn't tell ya!!!!!!
Now apply that to Hobie and Miguel
The thought of Hobie being able to reverse engineer his watch didn't even pass his mind cause Miguel's most likely like 'When are you from? 1978? I'm surprised you even know what a computer is. Did you all even have electricity then? Cars? Don't look at me like that - I'm a geneticist not a historian, Brown.'
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All he knows is that in Hobies world cars don't fly and therefore he is Ancient and Old™️
We all see Noir as like an old geezer regardless of age but no one ever suggests that how Miguel sees Hobie vjhoohchvoh
Like Miguel completely disregarding Hobie cause he's like 'Hobie? That Boomer? Sure. His generation can't even send an email without downloading a virus. What the hell is he going to do? Put my calculations on a CD-ROM? A floppy-disc?? Lyla, be realistic.'
SO REAL. Cause let's be honest HOW ELSE IS HOBIES STORING ALL HIS DATA 😭😭 He has no SD cards!! Only these!! Floppy Disks!!!
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Thousands upon thousands of these
Like what other explanation is there 😭😭 HUH??? Why else would Miguel disregard him so hard!!
Everytime Hobie talks instead of being like 'this snotnose kid-' Miguel's more like 'sure like imma take pointers on how to run a society from a fucking Boomer yeah right I saw what you all did to the economy'
Hobie probably be playing punk music and to Miguel it sounds like old show tunes coming out a vintage tin radio
Hobies music is so old it's 'classical' now 😔
Miguel has absolutely no idea what punk is and tbh???? He doesn't fucking care. Why? Cause that's some old people shit.
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demiesworld · 1 year
Text
don't underestimate them.
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synopsis: reader goes on a mission with hantengu. before the mission she encounters his emotional counterparts and they seem to have an interest in her.
characters: fem!demon!reader x sekido, karaku, aizetsu, & urogi
contents: inexperienced!reader, choking, dub-con, overstimulation, hair pulling, anal, nipple play, biting, creampie, 5-some, handjobs, masochism, cunninlingus, rough sex, clawing, dirty talk, just pure filth
note: reader is upper moon 5 (let's just say gyokko got murked and she's his replacement) this takes place after entertainment district arc and before swordsmith village arc. this is my first time writing smut in like a long time. hope i didn't disappoint. reader uses she/her pronouns. NOT BETA READ!
credits to the original artist of the photo.
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The strings of a biwa instrument plays when you are summoned into the Infinity Castle. Your body is covered in blood that is not yours and a murderous glare is painted on your face. You had just came back from a battle with the flamboyant sound hashira, Uzui Tengen, and his younger comrades three young demon slayer boys. While you, Gyutaro, and Daki put up a strong fight, it seemed to not be enough and the humans were victorious. It sickened you to be defeated by humans. It was pathetic of you to run away with your tail between your legs after you witnessed Gyutaro and Daki get killed by the humans. What frustrated you again was you were summoned to Lord Muzan at the Infinity Castle to give your report on the battle. You had to explain what happened and why two upper moons, who were under your wing, ended up getting killed.
You stand on a floating block looking up at Nakime upon a block adjacent to yours. You could sense no other comrade in your sight. Great. This was going to be fun.
"Biwa Woman!" you shout over to her, "You summoned me here, now what is it that you want of me?"
She lowers her head but says nothing to you. Instead the lights get cut out and you hear the sound of the biwa instrument being plucked. You feel the room shift but you're still surrounded by darkness. 'She must have sent me to another room' you thought as your eyes shift around you. 'What sort of trick is she playing here with me?'
You take one step forward and the lights are turned back on. You are in a room. You're in Lord Muzan's sanctuary. Your body gets chills when you realize what situation you are in now. What will Lord Muzan do to you? Will he scold you for not protecting the upper moon 6? Will he kill you for running away like a coward instead of fighting till the end? Is he going to get rid of you as upper moon 5?
Your thoughts are abruptly cut off when you sense the feeling of multiple knives being stabbed into your body at once from the inside. You gasp for air, your clawed hands grasping at your throat and eyes forced to stare up at the ceiling above you. You fall to your knees desperately trying to breathe as your body violently shakes and trickles of blood seeps from the corners of your eyes, lips, and ears.
"Y/N..." you hear Lord Muzan's voice echo in the room you are suffering in. But you don't see him. It sounds like he's right in front of you yet physically he is not there. "I see that you made it out alive, but not Gyutaro and Daki. Why is that?"
You try to answer him, you want to answer him, to plead your case but that excruciating stabbing doesn't cease. Instead the invisible hold around your neck gets stronger and you let out a feeble squeak. You reach out a hand in an attempt to plead for mercy, but it gets sliced off. As a result, blood spurts out from your sliced off wrist, streams of red pooling on the floor into a puddle.
There was no mercy when it came to Lord Muzan. He showed none of the upper moons mercy if they didn't accomplish a single task that they were given. Yours was to eliminate the boy with the hanafuda earrings. A simple task that Lord Muzan thought you were capable of doing. Unfortunately, it seemed like you weren't competent enough. And you failed.
You squeeze your eyes shut and let out another squeak before thrashing your legs forward. The grip on your neck loosens by just a hair giving you a chance to breathe. "L-Lord Muzan! Please, I-I can't-!" You cry out, your eyes still shut.
"If you hadn't been so careless and selfish during the battle, upper moons six would have been alive and those damned humans would be dead. Instead you wanted to save your own skin, and sacrifice your comrades to their untimely deaths. You knowingly escaped the fight after you witnessed Gyutaro and Daki being killed; you could have defeated the humans upper moon five. You know that you could have, yet you did not. Let me ask you this question, do you think that they would have ran if they saw you getting beheaded Y/N?"
You whimper and shake your head before opening your eyes just to see Muzan standing there holding your neck in his hand. His glowing red eyes apathetically looking into yours. "L-Lord Muzan!"
"Answer my question."
"No my Lord! T-They wouldn't have ran, Gyutaro and Daki would have avenged me! I-I'm sorry I failed you-"
Muzan releases your neck and drops you on the ground, the stabbing feeling in your body comes to a sudden halt as you hunch over and cry in sorrow. He stares down at you with a blank gaze. "I don't care for your useless apology, it's not me you should be apologizing to." He takes a step over your body distancing himself from you, "It should be upper moons 6, whom you should say it to. Alas they are dead..." Muzan looks over his shoulder at you. "Is that not correct?"
You nod your head and sniffle, "Yes, Lord Muzan, they are dead because of me. I...I led them to their demise, to their graves, s-should I..." You lift your head to look at the back of your leader, a confused expression upon your face, "What should I do?" You didn't know what to do at this point.
He straightens his shoulders, "You will eventually figure it out on your own. Now... for your next task. If you are competent enough to execute it."
Your body heals itself from the internal injuries and regenerates your amputated hand as you stand to your full height. Muzan gives you your next mission and your eyes widen as you listen to what the location name is. You swallow before lowering on one knee and bowing your head to Muzan.
"I swear to you Lord Muzan," you began, "I won't fail you."
"Very well because if you do fail prepare to visit an unprecedented grave."
Those are the last words Muzan said to you before you are sent off to your next mission. This time you were paired with upper moon 4, Hantengu. The location he had given you was the swordsmith village.
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Months ago you had found out about the location of the swordsmith village thanks to a kakushi that you killed during your time in the entertainment district. The swordsmith village was hidden up in the mountains; where the swordsmith forged swords and weapons for the Demon Slayer Corps. You gave the location to Muzan, hoping that one day you could infiltrate and kill the swordsmiths. However, as the time went by you never heard mention of the swordsmith village until now.
You arrive with Hantengu outside of the swordsmith village before the hours of sunrise within the forest. You are thankful that your demon body closely resembles a human female rather than something like Hantengu. You'd be able to blend if you were to encounter villagers meanwhile Hantengu would be outed by his deformed head. However, Hantengu was fearful of others and with his speed could easily dodge being seen by hiding in dark corners or in high trees.
"Come Hantengu, let's go, we cannot disappoint Lord Muzan." You addressed and you whisper under your breath, "Not again."
The scared demon followed you like a sheep making small whimpering noises and wringing his hands together. As you two traveled on foot, you noticed that the sun was starting to rise earlier than expected. Shit. You needed to find shelter and fast. With a growl and a huff you take Hantengu by the nape of his kimono and using your incredible speed you rushed to an empty shack you luckily found within minutes of the swordsmith village.
This was so infuriating to you. You were given a mission with who you believed was the weakest of the upper moons, despite him being a rank above you, in addition to you not knowing what his powers and abilities were. You had never seen Hantengu perform in battle as you were accustomed to watching him hide and lament during meetings at the Infinity Castle. You thought of him as weak, undeserving of the title as upper rank four, and a mere hindrance. To you a Lower Moon would have been useful hadn't Lord Muzan not killed them.
You enter inside with Hantengu and you let out a frustrated scream. Intentionally you threw the frail-bodied demon against the wall of the hut and your claws elongated, you began to voice your thoughts to Hantengu, "This is ridiculous! Why did Lord Muzan have to place me on a mission with you?! This is something I could handle myself! I can do it on my own! I can prove to Lord Muzan that I am worthy of being one of the twelve kizuki!" You bellow your thoughts to the shaking demon before you. Your clawed hands sharpening as you inch closer to Hantengu.
The demon cowered against the wall, holding up his quivering brittle hands to his head. Hantengu let out small, shaky snivels and he blubbered, "Eek! So loud! So scary and loud! Please!"
"Shut up with your pathetic whining! I can't even hear myself think!" You spat out, covering your ears with your hands. "You're so useless! You're unworthy of being upper rank four! What's the point of having you around if you're not going to be of use?!"
"Stop yelling at me please! I can't help it that I'm like this!" He continued to bicker with you, his croaky voice annoying you further into a blind rage.
You let out a shrill scream and swiped your clawed fingers at Hantengu. "I said shut up!"
Your clawed fingers slice off upper moon 4's head and it topples onto the ground. Inside of the shack the sound of silence permeates. Time goes still. You stand before the decapitated body and look at the head rolling on the ground, still lamenting only for it to stop at your feet. In disgust you coil back and kick it away from you.
"Disgusting." You utter.
Just then that severed head generates a body and the headless body grows a head. You briefly take a step back in shock as you witness glowing red eyes glaring angrily at you. "Han-Hantengu?" You call out your comrades name nervously. What did you do?
A low chuckle from behind you catches your attention and you look over your shoulder to see a tanned shirtless demon with long wavy black hair and horns on his head. His green eyes gazing back at you with mischief in them. "Aha! Isn't this great, Sekido? We got separated!" He takes a step forward towards you and holds your chin in his hand. "And by one of our own it seems..."
Your body was frozen to the ground, unable to move as the green-eyed demon was eyeing you up and down like you were his next meal. He looked like he wanted to devour you, but you weren't positive if that meant as sustenance or... that. A gasp escaped from your lips when he stuck out his long tongue and the kanji for "pleasure" was tattooed on it in black ink.
The sound of a staff being hit against wood startled you, pulling your gaze away from the wild eyed demon over to its copy. The demon whose name was Sekido rises to his feet his towering height making you seem small. With just one stride he easily sandwiches you between him and his look-alike; he huffs as he glares down at you. "Stupid wench." He growls, then he turns his attention to the green-eyed demon. "All I'm feeling is irritancy being around something like her."
"You say that, Sekido, but I'm getting a little excited around this one. She looks and smells divine."
Before you could berate him, the hand on your chin grips it tighter to keep you still, and he licks your cheek with his wet tongue. A shudder runs down your spine and you instinctively shove Karaku away from you. He cackles at your reaction.
"What happened to Hantengu? You disgusting bastard!" You took a defensive stance momentarily forgetting that Sekido was behind you.
Using your distraction as an opportunity, Sekido holds his staff against your neck and your backside presses against his front. Your hands grip at the staff desperately struggling to pull it away. You could feel his rigid torso underneath his kimono. You start to thrash in his hold, but he was too strong compared to you. The red-eyed demon growls into your ear, "Stop moving and maybe we will be lenient with you. Even though you don't deserve such a thing." His sharp fanged teeth gnaw on your ear causing you to arch away from it.
Karaku smirks at your resistance to the both of them and he calmly walks up to you placing his clawed hand on your breast. Your face heats up and you seethe, "Get your hands off of me," Karaku ignores your demand instead he squeezes the mound in his palm like a ball. An hearty, mirthful laugh coming from him when he sees you trying to move away from his touch.
"You say that you want our hands off, but I can smell the arousal coming from you, little minx." He cut through the center of the fabric of your dress using a clawed finger and tore it off leaving the cloth on the wooden floor in shreds. Your body was bare to them now, minus the undergarment that hid your mound. True to Karaku's word, a damp spot could be seen and it confirmed the demon's assumption.
"S-Stop looking at me! Get a-away from me you filthy, disgusting, vile," Your words get cut off by his warm mouth sucking on your left nipple.
Sekido grunts, "Calling us disgusting and vile yet you're the one who is craving it. That makes me mad knowing you want this, but you're refusing to yield." He bites down hard on your earlobe, to the point where blood leaks into his mouth.
That did it for you. Using all of your strength you yank the staff Sekido's holding and twist your body around to sever off his head utilizing the staff. You spin around on your foot and slash Karaku's body in half with the weapon successfully.
You threw the staff on the ground and sneered, "Filthy pigs!"
As you were beginning to think that maybe you had defeated the two of them, you were in for another surprise. Karaku's body that you cut in half turned into a young man with blue eyes, clothed in a blue jumpsuit and a dejected face. The upper half returned to being Karaku who was laughing upon seeing your frightened face.
The green-eyed demon sat on the floor with his legs crossed, and he said, "Aha~ You haven't figured it out by now? Allow me to tell you little minx, you see once you cut off our heads we just grow another body."
A gleeful voice spoke up, "So delightful to be divided! Looks like we didn't have to wait any longer for it."
You took a good look at the two new figures before you. The one on your left with the blue eyes looked at you with pity. Meanwhile the one on your right had a gleeful expression and he was drastically different. He didn't have the physiology of a human like his clones, rather he was part avian. He had wings, talons, and raptor-like feet.
'What the hell is going on right now?' you screamed in your head. 'I can't run out of here or else I'd die from the sun, and I can't fight four of them all at once! I'm helpless here!'
The blue-eyed open spoke softly, "You appear to be at a loss, mistress, why don't you let us help you?" He took a step forward and you took one step back. At this he stopped and he looked perplexed.
"No! All of you stay the hell away from me! I don't care how many times I gotta cut your fucking heads off!" You cried out.
Sekido grunted when his head regenerated itself and he took a long mean glare at you from behind. "This is pissing me off." He turned his head to the blue-eyed demon, "Aizetsu!" They both looked at each other and Aizetsu nodded as he knew what Sekido wanted him to do.
He approached you cautiously and places both of his hands on your shoulders. He lowers your body on the floor to kneel with him and slides his cold hands on the sides of your naked waist. The touch is gentle and lingers on your skin.
"This would be easy if you just submit to us... having to fight with you will upset me because then I'd have to hurt you." Aizetsu leans in closer to your face, his pointed nose touching yours and he whispers, "It'll pain me to cause such a captivating thing like you hurt."
The demon with gold eyes slid behind you and his claws held your wrists behind your back. Due to the hypnotizing look Aizetsu had on you, you didn't fight the hold instead you kneeled there waiting for their next move. The avian demon breathed in your scent deeply and let out a long sigh.
"You smell delicious, if you were a human I would have eaten you up by now." He says.
Aizetsu frowns, "Urogi, don't say that, you'll scare her."
Urogi laughs at this and licks his tongue against the side of your neck. "Why should I have to lie? It is true after all, if she was a human she'll be buried deep in my stomach." Like the crude bastard he was, he adds, "But I will be buried deep inside of hers soon."
The words sent a shiver down your spine and throb to your center. Suddenly you're bent forward, your face hovering over Aizetsu's groin, and Urogi's clawed hands spreading your ass cheeks apart exposing your blossoming folds to them all. The sweet pungent scent of your arousal emanates inside the small abode causing all four male demons to sigh and growl in hunger.
Aizetsu whispered, "Your words tells lies but your body says the truth, mistress," He places a hand on your head and gently guides your mouth over the rigid bulge beneath his clothes. A short, shocked gasp escapes you when you felt it. "We will take good care of you."
"Damn she smells like she's ready for us. What do you think Sekido?" Karaku stands to his feet and inches to your hunched over form, his fingers slowly untying the strings of his hakama.
Sekido grunted, "I don't care what we do with her, but we need to get this over with." He looks at the three of them, "Start however you want with her."
You interjected, "W-Wait a minute! I didn't even give my consent! I'm not an object you can't just-" Your words were cut off when a wet tongue greedily laps at your entrance. A muffled moan comes from you and your eyes squeeze shut. Your thighs clench and body pushes forward trying to get away from it.
The demon that was slurping your juices on his tongue, Urogi, pulls away from your folds and smirks, "You don't have to tell me twice." He lowers his head back to your pussy, taking a harsh suck on your clit and flicking it with his tongue.
Fuck. You were not trying to enjoy this, but the assault on your mound felt too good to try to run away from. You were helpless to these demons as they were physically stronger than you even as individuals. Your mouth kept spewing heavenly-sounding moans while Urogi feasted on your cunt.
"Mistress, won't you please help me?" Aizetsu lifted your head up by grabbing your chin and making you look up at him. Your eyes were glazed over, but you were still lucid.
"I... I don't..."
The blue-eyed demon pulls his pants down to his knees exposing his long, hard shaft to your eyes. It sat daintily against his abdomen; a pearl bead sitting the tip before he used his thumb to smear it. He lets out a soft sigh, a warmth spreading on his cheeks. "It's okay, I-I can show you." Aizetsu's other hand guides your mouth to the tip of his cock. "Picture it as being a dango treat. U-Use your mouth please."
His gentle words were a key to push you into doing it. You timidly nodded your head, letting out another feeble moan when Urogi spat on your clit and then dove his tongue into your haven. You parted your lips around the head of his cock and brought it into your mouth. At the feeling of a moist warmth on him, Aizetsu trembled but he didn't move away instead he leaned closer to you. His hand petting your head in encouragement. "Y-Yes... hmm... now stick out y-your tongue...ah..."
"Hey~ we didn't dumb you down, yet have we?" Karaku said and he pulls down his hakamas to his ankles. His cock was thicker than Aizetsu's and curved a little to the left in its rigid state. "You still have two more demons to pleasure remember?" He cockily stuck out his tongue, the tattooed kanji on view. "You have two hands that are free, so put them to work!"
He snatches a hold of your right hand and guides it to his lower abdomen your fingers tickling the patch of thick curly hair on his pelvis. He lowers it to the base of his shaft, using his large hand to envelop your smaller one around it. Karaku lets out a groan and he bites down on his bottom lip. "Fuck~ It's been so, so long since I've had a woman touch me like this. If your hand feels as snug as your pussy, then I guess we're in for a real treat huh?" His darkened gaze watches you blissfully.
"What happened to the brat that was giving us a hard time?" Sekido snarls as he stands on your left before lowering himself to his knees. He unties the strings of his robe, adjusting his clothing so that his angry and leaking cock stands. He jerks your vacant hand and wraps it around his cock.
Urogi stops drinking away at your essence to answer Sekido's rhetorical question. "Looks like she's lost her fighting spirit! With the way we're all using her body like a common whore she probably gave up." He licks at his lips, "Am I right or am I right you little slut?"
A talon hand slaps against your ass cheek causing you to yelp with Aizetsu's tip in your mouth. The blue-eyed creature shuddered from the vibration and looked down at you. "That feels so good, now try taking it in deeper... you can try right?" Aizetsu doesn't wait for a nod instead he slowly pushes himself in further. The tip of his dick prodding at the back of your throat and wet cavern stimulating his sensitive rod. "Hm! S-So good mistress... keep your tongue out and w-watch your t-teeth... ahh!"
Tears were prickling at the corners of your eyes while your mouth was stuffed with Aizetsu's cock. Karaku began to thrust back and forth into your hand. Sekido was guiding your hand to stroke his dick at a pace that he found suitable. Urogi, the damned bastard, had returned to relentlessly eating you out. How was this all even possible? Four demons taking on one person and using their body to their own selfish greed?
Your body jerked forward when you felt Urogi's tongue circle the rim of your ass. You pulled your mouth away from Aizetsu's cock, gasping for air and weakly said, "N-No! Don't touch me there with your tongue!" You scooted yourself forward trying to get away from him.
He smirked at you, "I don't have to listen to you and we're not all going to fuck just your pretty little pussy. Some of us wants this sweet ass too."
You just sat there stupefied and Urogi took that one moment of distraction to bring you back to his face. Your hands grab for Aizetsu's top pulling him forward while your ass was being violated by his look-alike's tongue. You held the slim body of the sorrowful demon tightly, trembling in what you thought was fear but was pleasure. "A-Ah! N-Not t-there, please! Stop!" Despite your pleads he continued and your body betrayed you by dripping with essence onto the floor.
"Hey~ Her mouth is open. Say 'ah' little minx, or do I have to shove my cock in there?" Your dazed eyes look up to Karaku smirking and holding his cock in his hand. You simply whine, and he takes it as a 'yes' pushing his dick past your mouth and down your throat. "Yeah that's it. Fuck use your tongue, get it nice and sloppy. Make me feel real good will you?" He moans, eyes half-lidded while he watched you.
Urogi was about to finger your ass until he remembered he had claws; at least he was being considerate when he asked for the other two Sekido and Aizetsu to stretch you out.
"I'll do it." Sekido grunts, not giving Aizetsu a chance in being the first to finger you.
Urogi moved from behind you and Sekido took his place. "Delightful~ Make sure you make her ass lose enough for one of us to fit. Wouldn't want to break our new toy."
"Don't tell me what to do you idiot!" Sekido barked at Urogi.
The red-eyed demon spat on your asshole then inserted a finger. You squealed around Karaku's cock and this caused the "pleasure" demon to groan at the vibrations. He began to fuck your throat shallowly. Drool came out of the corners of your mouth and your hands grabbed onto the sides of Karaku's thighs. Sekido curled his finger inside of you, stroking your walls at the same time sliding it back and forth.
Aizetsu stroked his cock as he watched you getting face-fucked by Karaku. He squeezes the tip till precum leaks out and smears it over his cock. "It's making me sad having to wait like this so desperately. I want to be the first to have her, I can't hold it for any longer."
"Who died and made you the leader you coward? If anything I get to go first since it was my idea to have some fun." Karaku says.
"I object to that Karaku~ I ate her sweet little pussy so I get first hit on her!" Urogi exclaims.
Karaku retorts, "Eating her pussy doesn't give you the right to fuck her first."
"Shut the hell up you three!" Sekido finally snaps when he couldn't take their arguing over who gets to go first anymore. He stuck another finger inside of your tight hole stretching it. As his two digits were working their way deeper into you, you were shamelessly moaning around Karaku's cock. "Since you all want to fight over who gets to fuck her, let's have the bitch decide who gets to."
Sekido's hand grips you by your throat and pulls you off of his counterpart's length. A gasp comes from you when you feel the hand squeezing your neck and a warm breath ghosting next to your ear. A growl emits from the red-eyed demon before he asks, "Now... tell us... which one of us do you want to fuck you first?"
"Uh... um... I..." You were looking at them one by one. Your eyes landing on Karaku with his mischievous grin, then Aizetsu's hopeful gaze, and lastly Urogi's stare of pure unfiltered desire. You wanted for this to be gentle for you since it was your first time experiencing sexual relations as a demon. After doing some process of elimination in your head, and based on how each demon had treated you, your gaze landed on Aizetsu. "Y-You..."
Aizetsu's brows lifted at the decision you made, "Me?" When you nodded your head the demon sits himself in front of you and places his hands on your knees. "It's relieving to hear that you want me first, was it my desperation that made you choose me?"
'His desperation? No... I chose you because you look like you'll take it easy on me. Don't tell me I made the wrong choice.' You thought as you feel Sekido move from behind you so Aizetsu could lie you on your back. His slim muscled figure hovering over yours and eyes looking down into yours expectantly. Was he waiting for an answer?
The tip of his cock prodded at your entrance bringing you back to reality for a moment. "Hm! N-No it wasn't that..." you say and place your hands on his shoulders.
Aizetsu hums before sliding his tip up to your clit and sliding it up and down your nub. Your breath hitched at the touch, and your nails were digging into his skin. "You're lying to me, I can tell."
"I'm not lying to you! I'm not! I promise!" Before you can continue explaining the demon had slid his cock into your heat. The thickness of his girth spreading you open to shape around his length. You let out a loud moan and tossed your head back, trying to pull your hips away. Aizetsu saw this and grabbed your waist in a tight grip. "P-Please!"
"Ahh... y-you f-feel so good around me. So warm and wet, yet you think that I am the desperate one." He mutters, "Maybe by the time we're done," The blue-eyed demon slowly pulls himself out to the hilt then slams back inside of you. This action forcing another moan out of you. "Y-you'll be the one begging for m-more."
Your nails were clawing at his back, drawing blood that didn't seem to faze him at all. Despite you thinking this demon would be gentle with you it appeared to be false. He wasn't gentle as his hips slammed into yours sloppily and high-pitched whimpers came from him. Your legs snaked around his waist to keep him close and your folds were dripping your juices on his shaft. The sound of skin slapping and wet noises filling the shack the five of you were in.
Aizetsu looks down at where the two of you are connected and a ring of white is painted on his cock. His cheeks flush from the sight, and he slows down his thrusts to ogle at it. He places his thumb on your clit, flicking it like it was some sort of toy as he says, "You must be feeling really good right now mistress? A-Am I making you feel good? Do you like my c-cock?" He slams deep into you again. "H-Huh? Mistress? Tell me I'm making you feel good with my cock."
You whine when he gives your pussy quick and hard thrusts. You nod your head and cover your eyes with your arm, "Y-Yes! Y-Yes you're making me feel good! Ah! Keep going just like that! Ah!"
Your arm is moved away from covering your face brought down to your side by Sekido. He kneels on the floor, his knees on either side of your head and he glares down at you. "Don't hide your face from us you filthy whore. We want to see just how undone you can be." You stare up at him in a daze, your lower body being used like a cock-sleeve by Aizetsu, and it seemed like the sorrowful demon wasn't letting up.
You whine when an unfamiliar spot was repeatedly stroked by the blue-eyed demon's cock. A pathetic, needy moan escaped from your lips and your toes curl. "W-what was that?! You just- oh! F-Fuck you did it again!" You gasp.
Aizetsu's tongue stuck out from his mouth as he rutted against your body like a dog in heat. His eyebrows furrowed deeply and irises were glazed over as he chanted in a whisper, "So good, so good, feels so-so good. Ohh... ohh..." His voice was losing it's steadiness as his thrusts grew frantic. Never once did he miss hitting that unfamiliar spot inside of you. "I'm al-almost there... almost there. I'm going to cum, c-can I come inside of you?"
You were too far into the moment to hear what he had said. You nodded your head without knowing and that was all the answer he needed. He whimpers, "I'm cumming, I'm cumming, o-oh! Hm! A-ah!" Aizetsu gave a few short and rapid thrusts before he stilled his hips and spilled his seed deep into your cervix. Your eyes widened when you felt a pool of warmth inside of you.
The demon pulls his softening cock out of your pussy; his cum leaking out of your abused cunt and trailing down to your puckered hole. The other two demons, Karaku and Urogi grinned widely at the sight of it. Sekido just lets out a grunt after releasing his hold on your arms.
"Well, well, well let's hope you're still tight for the both of us, little minx." Karaku says and he positions your body so that it's laying right on top of his. Yours legs are weak as they shake and your hand holds onto his shoulder for support.
"Wow~ You're not even going to let her have a break first Karaku?" Urogi teases.
The green-eyed demon stuck out his tongue to lick his lips then replies, "Why should I? She's a big strong demon just like we are. She should be able to take the pain." He lines up his tip with your pussy and pushes himself inside. He moans at the feeling of your tight walls gripping him snug. "Fuuck~ Your pussy is even better than I imagined. You feel how you're sucking me in?" You bite down on your bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut as you bear through the stretch of Karaku's cock. "Urogi you want to take her ass so we can get this started? I'm about to explode with the way she's gripping me."
Urogi takes his cock out and strokes it. "Aha, don't mind if I do."
He spits a wad of saliva onto your puckered rim before sliding himself into you with ease. You and him both moan together when he entered inside. A drawn-out pleasured moan emitted from Urogi when he feels the snugness around his dick. You covered your mouth with your clawed hands, once again trying to smother the sounds you were making. Your legs were wobbling since you weren't holding onto anything for support.
"Move those hands away from your face. We want to hear you moan like a slut for us." Karaku says. Timidly, you uncovered your mouth and lowered your hands to your collarbones. You kept your eyes closed however and that didn't seem to please the "pleasure" demon. He grumbled, "Open your eyes and look at me."
You shake your head "no" until Urogi yanks you by your hair and your eyes open in surprise from him. "You better listen to what we say or we won't go as easy as Aizetsu did on you." You gasp and nodded your head in fear of what they could do. You look down at Karaku's smirk on his face; shuddering when he moved to sit up right his face right in between your breasts.
"Hmm..." he groans licking a stripe up on your sternum to your neck then sucking on the damp skin there. "Don't ever hide those pretty eyes away from me again, I wanna watch you crumble like sand while we ruin you."
Sekido chided, "Are you going to do anything or you just going to sit there warming your cocks?"
"We're just about to do that boss," Urogi sassed.
"Then hurry it up." He replied.
A mutter, probably a curse, was all Urogi made. The avian demon pulls his cock out half-way then slams his hips against your ass. You quickly go to cover your mouth to mute another moan, but Karaku was faster and predicted that you would do that. He snatched your wrists in his hands and grinned when you released that sluttish cry.
"That's right let us hear you." He raised his hips up and down, matching the rhythm and speed Urogi was giving you. "Let us hear those fucking... delectable sounds. Fuck! Your pussy just tightened around me when I said that. You like it when I talk about you, s-shit, like you're a slut don't you?" You shake your head, but your cunt tightens around him again. Karaku laughs and hollers, "Oh fuck! I'm getting so excited right now with you!"
"You should see, damn, her ass bouncing on my cock right now Karaku. You're taking my cock so f-fucking well!" Urogi exclaimed, he lets go of your hair and presses his mouth into your ear. His thrusts get harder, "Sweet tight little ass. I want to hear that mouth tell us what you're feeling. You're feeling good little slut? Huh?"
You whimper when Karaku sucks on your nipple while watching you lose yourself into the abyss of pleasure. You felt like your brain was turning into mush as the two demons had you bouncing on their thick cocks. "It feels so f-fucking good. The way- the way you're deep inside of me! Oh my god!" You arch your back and let out a squeak when Karaku's dick hit that unfamiliar spot from before. "T-There Karaku, right there please! O-oh! Y-Yes!"
Karaku popped his mouth away from your nipple and held you by the neck, fucking his dick up into you roughly and stimulating your sweet spot. "Shit... fucking take my cock. Take it all... just like that! Oh yes, sweet little demoness, I'm gonna spill my cum deep inside of you. Nice and swollen with my cum. You might end up pregnant with my children."
The mention of you being impregnated surprised you and your walls tightened once more. "Y-Yes, fill me up with your cum. I want it... I want it... f-fuck!" You mutter in a daze, and place your hands on the demon's shoulders. You let out a squeal when Urogi nibbled on your earlobe. "...deep inside of me. Oh my god... oh fuck... h-happening... something's happening..."
They go faster inside of each of your holes. Urogi's talons pinch into your hips causing you to bleed and Karaku's mouth latches on your nipple brutally sucking at it again. You let out a squeal, body trembling, and an orgasm spilling right out from you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You wail out, tossing your head back. Tears were brimming at the corners of your eyes at this point.
Urogi groans after you've came on their dicks, "Damn, I'm gonna paint the inside of your ass with my cum, whore." He huffs into your ear, then chuckles darkly, "Ah shit, you ready for it? Shit, here it comes. Here it fucking comes!" His hips repeatedly pound into your ass then stills when he's buried into the hilt stuffing you with his seed.
A gasp comes from you once you feel a warmth in your ass. "I feel it, oh my god, I can feel your cum!" You press your hand down on your lower abdomen, unknowingly causing Karaku to feel the added pressure on his cock that was sheathed inside of you.
The green-eyed demon groans and mouths wetly against your nipple. "Fuck, pull out of her Urogi, and get out of my way."
Urogi reluctantly does remove himself from you and scoots to a different position away from the two. Karaku's hands go to your hips, squeezing them tight he lifted your body up and slammed you down on his cock. It punches out moans from you when he kept repeating it over and over. Not once did he relent or showed you mercy. He was abusing your cunt and pushing you into having another orgasm. Which you unexpectedly did. Your walls pulsated on his dick and body shook as you were bounced on Karaku's length. Your eyes were heavy, tongue lolling out of your mouth and a long weak moan you made.
"Heheh~ Look at you now, it looks like we've dumbed you out already. Haha~ Fuck, fuck, I think I'm going to cum." His eyes looks down at where you're connected with him and the thick ring of white covers his shaft. Along with his groin dampen with your juices. The demon throws his head back and pulls you down on his cock while he cums deep inside of you. Karaku hisses, "Shit, shit, shit,"
You collapse forward onto him, thankfully he catches you and holds you in his arms for a moment. While the two of you are gathering your breaths, the last demon of the hour, Sekido stands with his cock still hard. Your eyes drift over to his towering figure and his raging red eyes. You swallow nervously as you recalled how he had handled you so roughly earlier. Maybe you had made the right choice in getting them to fuck you from most gentle to least gentle. However a part of you felt you were going to regret it by how the sour expression on Sekido's face looked when he made eye contact with you.
You didn't say a word as you shakily slid the demon's cock out from you and crawled towards Sekido. He stood there planted to the floor waiting for your next move. They must have really made you dumb because you grabbed his cock and attempted to put it in your mouth. He growled at that. Sekido stops you by placing his hand on your forehead and pushing you away from his dick.
"You stupid whore, did I give you permission to suck my cock?"
You whimpered at his harsh tone. You thought that he would have enjoyed it since you didn't do it for him. Also you thought it would be a way of requesting for him to be easy with you.
Sekido's eyes narrowed at you, "What? Now you can't speak? I asked you a question you idiot!" You flinched when his hand snagged your hair and tilted your head back. "Answer my question. Did I... give you permission... to suck, my, cock?"
You shook your head and replied with a timid, "N-No."
"No, what?"
"No, Sekido-"
Slap!
Your head was turned to the side after the sudden struck to your cheek. Your eyes widen in shock, and you locked eyes with the rageful demon. Sekido snarls, "I'm not like these other fools and give someone as unworthy, disgusting, and pitiful as you a right to even say my name. You better address me as Lord Sekido from now on you filthy wench."
A nod was your response, before you quickly said, "Yes Lord Sekido."
He grunted with a finality then released your hair. "Look away from me and get on your hands and knees."
You obeyed his demand and did what he instructed you to. Sekido grabs the back of your head with one hand and pushes your face into the wooden floor. The other hand clutches both your wrists and hold them behind your back. You weren't even made aware of when he was going to put his cock inside of you.
"This is what you were made for. Just to be a cock-sleeve to four demons. You look filthy right now. Cum from different men dripping out of your used holes like a whore. I shouldn't even stick my cock inside of you, fucking slut." You let out a whine, but he silenced it with more pressure onto your head. "Shut the hell up! Earlier you were fighting against us and said vile things to us. Now you want for the one that you fear the most to treat you delicately and show you mercy?"
He leaned down to press his mouth to your ear. "Let me tell you one thing, Y/N." Your body jolted forward when he sheathed himself, without warning, into your pussy and your walls tightening around his length. Sekido grunted at the warmth and wetness you were exuding. "You're the one who's pathetic," He slams his cock against your sweet spot. "You're the one who's unworthy," He pulls himself out fully, "And you're the one who's useless."
Clap!
A squeak came from you when Sekido slams his cock fully deep into you again. Your body writhed while the demon was treating you like what he said you were: a cock-sleeve. He was pounding into your core with no clemency. He was fucking you like he hated every atom of your existence. A series of moans left your mouth with little to no regret of how you sounded. You were enjoying this, Sekido saw this, and it was pissing him off.
"Slut! Fucking slut!" He growls. His hand releases the grip on your hair to slap your ass. Afterwards he holds you by the front of your neck and squeezes it tight to where you can't breathe. Your pussy clenches around his dick and you cum again for the third, fourth (?) time that day.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you whine out, "Yes... y-yes, yes, yes! Lord Sekido! Hmm! Fuck! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" Your words were taunting him, how dare you speak like that? He was trying to teach you a lesson but you were somehow putting the odds of this in your favor. "Oh! Lord Sekido!"
The tip of his cock was jabbing at your cervix, making you whine and meet his rapid thrusts with your hips. Your skins slapping at an unsteady and wild rhythm. His claws dug into your neck causing you to bleed. Sekido was wanting for you to hate this as much as he hated you behaving like a harlot for them. Unfortunate for him you weren't keen on giving him the satisfaction. Especially when you cry out, "Cum inside of me, Lord Sekido! Cum inside!"
"No!" He barks out then slams his dick into you harder. His nails drag across your neck more blood gushing onto the floor in a puddle. "I, ha, won't give you that, ha, you slut." He panted.
He could feel himself getting closer to his end. Sekido leans over your shoulder blade his fangs grazing along your skin. The temptation of embedding his teeth into your naked and unmarked skin eats at him. He couldn't just ignore it. Sekido sinks his fangs into your shoulder meanwhile growling like an animal when he does so. You scream out in pleasure upon the sudden bite and rut closer to him.
Abruptly the demon male pulls himself out from your thoroughly abused cunt and strokes his cock. Sekido hisses when he shoots his cum all over your pussy and on the floor. Your body still positioned on your knees, face on the wooden floor, and limp arms at your sides. He pants after he's released himself, sitting on the floor and admiring the work he just put into you. You were a mess. Your legs were twitching. Their cum was dripping out of your pussy. You had scratches, some bite marks, and a few bruises on you.
But damn it, did you still look pretty.
With your body exhausted from the rounds of sex you've just endured you shut your eyes and fell into a deep slumber. You woke up hours later to find out it was the dead of night, then you remembered that you needed to infiltrate the swordsmith village with Hantengu. You go to stand to your feet and you rush outside the shack till you recalled the events that happened during the day. You had sex with four of Hantengu's counterparts.
"Oh my god!" You lament then enter back into the shack. You then realized you were fully clothed and there seemed to be no sort of injuries on you. Well of course there wouldn't be any you were a demon after all. As you look around in the shack they weren't there. The demons were gone. The only thing that proved what happened to you was a rolled up scroll on a makeshift table.
You squinted your eyes as you tried to read the illegible handwriting and crossed out words.
[To: Y/N wench pretty girl Y/N
By the time you wake your pathetic ass up we will have left to go hunt for the surdsmitt vullige swordsmith village. Remember your mission to distract the mist hashira and love hashira while we kill the kid with the hanafuda earrings. After we're done killing the little brat we'll come back to you too We will meet you at the rendezvous point if everything goes according to plan. It won't go according to plan It will go according to plan This should go smoothly.
From: Aizetsu Urogi Karaku HANTENGU
from: aizetsu]
You let out a sigh, "I hope we all make it out alive you idiots. And if we don't well," You look down at the remnants of cum still dripping from your body with a fond smile. "I won't forget you."
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notes: omg this was the longest smut i've ever wrote and it took me weeks to finish but it is here! lmk what you think of it!
© demiesworld
3K notes · View notes
astonmartingf · 2 months
Text
ADORE YOU ; KR7
kimi raikkonen x mclaren driver!reader
. . . your relationship with kimi was always civil, not too close like friends, but not too far apart like strangers. somehow you got stuck in a situation leaving both of you confronting your feelings for each other.
amgf still one of the best things i wrote, ever. this is my baby, the time i spent making the radio graphics was all worth it, i love this so much ughh
death of a bachelor ; masterlist
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Getting called in for a private meeting with the team principal is always worrying. Usually you’re called for one of two reasons, either you’ve done exceptionally well or if you’ve fucked up. With how things are looking up, you’re clearly called in because you’ve fucked up and one of the sponsors has found something to complain about.
You were used to it, sadly. And despite his constant reassurance, you know Fernando doesn’t have that much power to help you. Paired with his recent win in the driver’s championship you kept your mouth shut from the pressure held on you.
The last thing you want is to take away the spotlight from him, it was his win after all. Despite the number of news outlets questioning his position, and the ambiguity of it all with you in the center of controversy.
All because of some harmless photos with Kimi, one that caught him off guard. Not because he was unknowingly involved, but with the fact that he only knew then just how many people loathe you in the industry who are constantly waiting for you to fuck up.
Breathing out, you shake off the million thoughts running in your head. There’s no use overthinking what has been done, standing in front of the team principal’s door you brace yourself for the worst that could happen.
Thinking to yourself that maybe this is the end of it all, that maybe they’ve finally succeeded in leaving you without a seat for the next season. The worst that could happen is Renault pulling out your contract early, and you were preparing for the worst.
The person out of your equation is Kimi Raikkonen himself- the first person your eyes landed upon entering the room. Looking around your eyes scan the room, your teammate nowhere to be found. It’s just you, Kimi, and your team principal.
“Good Morning.” You’re voice curt and short as you feel the dry scratch at the back of your throat. Sitting beside Kimi you lean towards him whispering, “What are you doing here? Did McLaren form a complaint?”
Next to you, Kimi shrugs his shoulders equally unaware. “I was called in when I arrived earlier, I thought you were the one with the complaint.”
Brows raised, you let out a small sigh in disagreement, “I don’t think I’m in a position to complain, you on the other hand, God knows what people are saying.”
You don’t notice the frown forming on Kimi’s face, his brows furrowed in annoyance, “How are you empathizing with me right now? God knows how much worse you’re having it, and here you are worrying about me. I don’t care what they say about me, as long as they don’t involve you in it.” Kimi scoffs, watching the corners of your lips curl into a small smile.
“You must hate being involved with me that much.” Teasing him, Kimi shakes his head with his eyes rolling back.
A cough breaks your attention away from Kimi, reminding you that you’re here for a serious meeting with your team principal. Turning your head you see him with a big smile on his face.
Huh.
“Do you know why I called you here?” His voice reverberates in the room, leaving your throat dry. Your eyes widen, gulping before attempting to answer.
“No, you don’t have to answer.”
Pressing your lips, you shrink down back in your seat feeling the drops of sweat press against your team shirt. Your eyes widen, avoiding contact, you prepare yourself with the worst anticipating the next words out of his mouth.
“It’s all going well in fact that I’ve decided myself to let you continue with what you two are doing.”
An audible gasp left your lips, “But there’s nothing, we aren’t doing anything,” quickly defending yourself from your team principal’s accusations.
Bewildered, a loud cackle escapes his lips leaving you and Kimi in confusion, “That’s even better. Honestly, you don’t have to date each other, just continue what you’re doing.”
Kimi shakes his head, “Doing what exactly?”
“Listen, all you need to do is be seen in public. Think of it as a fake secret relationship. Just like you said, if there’s nothing going on with you two then there is no need to confirm it. Just to keep the sponsorships happy, and free publicity for both teams.”
You share a look with Kimi, gauging from his reaction he doesn’t seem to mind. Then again it’s not like anything is happening between you two, it’s like hitting multiple birds in one stone. You can keep being friends with Kimi, you keep your seat, and you keep the sponsors happy with the advertisement.
Clearing his throat, Kimi speaks up first, “You know if you don’t want to-”
“I don’t mind.” Giving him a small smile, you assure him of your consent, “I’d rather it be you than someone else, plus we get to hang out more often. Unless you don’t want to, then we don’t have to-”
“I’m okay if you’re okay with it.”
Clasping his hands your team principal is smiling over the moon, at least someone is happy with the situation,
“Well if you have no other questions, you’re free to leave Kimi.” Your team principal dismisses the Fin, leaving an uncomfortable taste in his mouth.
“Why? If you have something to say to Y/N you can say it to me as well. What are you going to scold her for? You should’ve been there to defend her against the comments, I won’t leave. Whatever you say to her, I will be here and listen.”
His sudden outburst caught you off guard, uncharacteristic for Kimi to go over his emotions like that. Though his outbursts are short it’s usually directed out of frustration, but this was out of nowhere. Your eyes dart back and forth Kimi and your team principal with conflicted feelings.
While you feel proud that Kimi defended you, on the other hand you grimace at the sight of your team principal, still and speechless.
“Well, you’re more than welcome to wait for Y/N outside but Fernando is coming along in a while- we’re having a team meeting for the next season.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll guide Kimi on the way out, you know in case he reads any of our world winning strategies.” Standing up swiftly, you pull Kimi’s arm, dragging him away from the office and out to the paddock.
It wasn’t until then you realized the awkward silence looming between you two. Looking up to his eyes, you stare at his blue ones, getting lost into the deep hues akin to a storm. In the silence, a mutual understanding was built.
And unbeknownst to you, it was the beginning of a deeper relationship with Kimi.
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You were on your way to Maranello when the announcement of your transfer was released. Sinking in your seat you close your phone, thankful to be on a plane avoiding the constant ping and ringing of your phone.
It was a short-lived moment of relaxation, not long after the seat beside yours was occupied. Observing the person, your eyes squint at the sight of a familiar face.
"Kimi? I didn't know you were on your way to Italy as well."
Turning around, Kimi blinked slowly taking in your presence. "Was staying with me that bad that you need a different vacation?"
Scoffing at him, you shift in your seat facing his, "As much as I want more time for vacations unfortunately I'm going to Italy for work."
Kimi tilts his head, "Didn't know Renault moved to Italy. Are you going over factories?"
You still yourself, contemplating telling him the truth or getting away with a little lie. Not in the mood for conversation, you chose the latter.
"Something like that. They want me to check something personally. My manager arranged it for me so, I really don't have a say."
Kimi nods again leaving you to do your own things, something that you appreciate when you're with him. There's no need for small talk, it's always comfortable silence.
A few people you feel comfortable being with for long periods of time, it's either him or your teammate Alonso. Contrary to popular belief, there's no "feud" between the three of you– more on the two of them, you were somehow stuck in between their "rivalry" and just how the company milked the media for more coverage.
Truthfully faking a secret relationship with Kimi was one of the easiest things you had to do last year, purposefully being seen hanging out, going on "dates" and vacationing together without having to confirm anything, you were winning.
And the end of it all with you getting a seat with Ferrari. It was a whirlwind of emotions, not just for you but for your teammate Alonso who was poached to McLaren.
A secret you had to keep from Kimi while vacationing together. You did carry a smidge of guilt hiding him from his new teammate, but vacation meant time away from work and racing. And one thing you learned about Kimi is that he hates race talk at the dinner table.
You sit in silence catching the last hours of sleep. By the time you wake up, the plane has already landed. You feel the seatbelt around your waist, scouring the area you look for Kimi.
"You were asleep the whole flight, I put on your seatbelt for you." You blink your eyes, in an attempt to keep yourself awake.
"When did we land?" Your voice is croaky and dry, you squirm in your seat yawning and stretching.
A small smile can be seen from Kimi's face as he hands you bottled water. "We just landed, you want to go now or wait for a little while?"
A small pout forms your face as you unbuckle your seatbelt, grabbing the bottled water from his hands you take small sips feeling more awake by the minute.
"I want to go now, I want to change clothes before going to the factory." Grabbing you things you stand up leaving the plane with Kimi beside you.
"Is someone picking you up or do you want me to drive you to your hotel?" Kimi offers, putting his bags at the trunk of a Ferrari 599. The way his arms flex, as he pushes his weight, leaning upon the frame of the trunk.
You shake your head off your thoughts, "You don't have to, someone is picking me up. I guess I'll see you around then." Frankly, you booked a one-way ticket to Emilia-Romagna as soon as your break with Kimi was over.
Spending your vacation with Kimi was one of the best things you've done, but the longer you stayed inside the bubble that is Kimi Raikkonen, the more you realized your conflicting feelings towards him.
And that is something you're not prepared to confront yet.
Nonetheless it seems as though the universe has a way of bringing you together— it comes in the form of sitting beside each other on the plane ride, and now seeing him through the glass window in Ferrari's headquarters.
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finelinevogue · 2 months
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always
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summary - you and harry finally say those three words
pairing - actress!reader x harry
word count - ~1.5k
💐🌷☀️💗 💐🌷☀️💗 💐🌷☀️💗 💐🌷☀️💗
It was the Oscar’s after party at Vanity Fair and you were a little tipsy.
A happy drunk, some may say.
Just tipsy enough to be able to giggle at everything, but to also still have your entire wits about you. Your boyfriend on your arm was exactly the same. It was lucky neither of you were the designated driver.
“It was nice seeing you!” You politely waved off two people you would not mind never seeing again.
After they were gone, Harry clearly had the same opinion as you.
“Knobheads.” He muttered close to your ear, so no one with a camera could even pick up what he was saying.
“That’s Hollywood, my love.”
“Yeah, but they could have been slightly more discreet about only liking your recent film because you were topless for a small scene.” He huffed.
You looked up at him, filtering out every other star-studded celebrity in the room.
“They were two white old men, what did you expect?”
“Some respect.”
“At least I’ll always have you for that.” You cupped his cheek and his frown melted away. The soft touch of your skin against his was enough to coax back the smile that had been missing on his face.
Harry continued to look at you as you looked at him.
You couldn’t help but give off a blush and a nervous smile as you watched his gaze upon yours. “What?”
“Nothing,” He tried to bite back a ridiculous grin, “Just like that word.”
“What word?” You furrowed your brows in confusion.
“Always.”
You thought back to what you’d just said and you ducked your head to hide the nervous smile widen, docking your forehead onto his chest.
You felt Harry’s chest rise and fall with a chuckle and you wrapped your arms around him to conceal all that happiness between just you two.
It was moments like this when you wanted to lean up and whisper those three words. The three words that apparently change everything. You’d never spoken them to anyone, like this, before so it was difficult to know how to even say them.
You were certain of one thing though. Even though you’d only been together for less than half a year, you’d never felt like this for anyone before. And sometimes you felt like Harry was the same.
You were certain that you loved Harry.
It was only a matter of how to tell him.
•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•
An hour later and you found yourself at the front of the photo booth queue.
Harry had been doing his rounds, saying hello to friendly faces such as Billie and Florence.
You had done your rounds, as well as take non-negotiable photos with your cast mates for one final hurrah.
Even though your movie hadn’t swept at the Oscar’s this year, you were just happy to have been a part of it. Creating movies and bringing stories to life is more than you could ever have dreamed of. Plus, you always had Harry’s hand to hold through it all now - which made it easier.
Harry was in fact holding your hand now.
As Barry and Sabrina walked out of the booth, lipstick smudged all over Barry’s smirking lips, Harry squeezed your hand to signal you were next.
Harry held back the curtain for you, but you waited for him to sit down first.
There was a bench that could fit at least four people on it, but you and Harry had pre-discussed what your photos would be (whilst waiting in the queue) and you’d both agreed that you sitting on his lap was the only way.
The “only way” being Harry’s words…
Not that you minded.
“Only photobooth where you don’t have to pay.” You commented, as you situated yourself sideaways on Harry’s lap.
Your arms slunk across his shoulders for support and his arm wrapped securely around your waist.
You moved slightly to get more comfortable on Harry’s thighs.
“Stop wriggling.” He grunted, making you instantly stop.
“Wh… Oh… Oh, Babe! You’re so….” You laughed at him.
“Hey, you’re not the one who has to go back out there with an obvious issue.”
“Doesn’t have to be an issue…” You attempted your best seductive whisper, but ended up bursting out giggling at the end.
“I hate you.”
You shut up, but his words had you thinking about the hidden meaning. He clearly didn’t hate you, that much was quite visibly obvious, so did he technically mean the opposite? Did he actually mean he lo–
“Y/N/N?” Your nickname being spoken brought you away from your thoughts, “You ready?”
You cleared your throat and approved.
The camera counted down…
The first photo would be of you and Harry simply smiling at the camera, faces leaning against each other.
3. 2. 1.
*snap*
You quickly moved yourselves for the next photo.
The second photo was of Harry kissing your cheek, whilst you made whatever face you wanted to. You decided to scrunch your eyes and smile like an idiot - because that’s how it felt to be in love.
3. 2. 1.
*snap*
In love.
That’s what you were.
You were insanely in love with Harry and he deserved to know. You deserved to share this love.
“Love?” Harry quickly reminded you off the next photo quickly approaching.
It was meant to be of you now kissing Harry’s cheek and him doing whatever he wanted, but now you wanted to do something else.
You cupped the far side of his cheek gently and leant your lips against his ear.
3.
“Y/N?”
2.
“I love you.”
1.
*snap*
Harry quickly turned his head towards you, nearly knocking your nose off in the process.
“What?” He had tiny pools of water collecting in his eyes.
“I love you.” You smiled warmly, softly rubbing over his cheek.
“Fuck.” He smiled, letting a tear fall.
3.
“I love you, too.” He said.
2.
“So much.” He cupped your cheek.
1.
And he kissed you with so much force.
*snap*
You almost fell back with how much he pushed into you, but that’s what kissing him felt like anyway - free falling.
Saying three words had never felt so explosive.
It was like a confetti cannon had been set off and the confetti was all your love for each other being scattered around the photo booth. You felt full and happy, and you could tell by Harry’s kiss that he felt exactly the same.
You pulled back, licking your lips and trying your best not to cry in case it ruined your makeup.
Harry didn’t care, he let some tears fall.
You brushed them away carefully with your thumbs.
“Those better be happy tears and not tears of instant regret.” You joked.
“Happy falls a bit flat of describing how I feel right now, love.”
You giggled and pushed yourself back onto his lips, kissing him to let those three words sink in more.
He moved back, needing to take you in, in this moment, before giving you a few smaller kisses.
“We should go.” You whispered.
“No.” Harry pouted.
“H, this is a photo booth not a kissing booth.”
He laughed, “Okay.”
You both got up to leave, pushing the curtain away and taking the little strip of photos from the deposit on the side of the booth.
Two had printed.
You both laughed at the one where you’d spoken those little words, because Harry’s facial expressions were so funny. He looked a mixture of shocked and happy all at once.
Harry tucked the photo strip into the inside pocket on his suit jacket, whilst you kept a tight grip on yours.
You held onto Harry’s hand and hugged onto his arm.
“That was a better moment than any Oscar award.” You honestly spoke.
Harry leant down to kiss your forehead.
“I love you.” He looked genuinely excited to be able to say that to you. “And I’m proud of you.”
“I know.”
“Oi, don’t you Star wars me!” He mocked. “Say it, or else.”
“I looooovvee you.” You teased out the word. Harry shook his head at you for being so annoying, but also he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Those three words belonged to him now as they belonged to you. And always will.
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okay-babe · 2 months
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Headcannons ~ Alastor with a reader who has a contract with Valentino...
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tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship (in the final third of the post), cam star! reader, possessive! alastor, valentino sucks (as usual), mild angst, mild nsfw note: okay so I got an ask wanting to know my thoughts on Alastor with a reader who used to be in a contract with Valentino and has to interact with him, but I misread it as Alastor with a reader who is currently in a contract with Valentino and has to interact with him lol, so here's this! (The actual request should be fulfilled soon, my bad anon!).
♱. At first, Alastor definitely thought you were more than just a little foolish for having made a deal with an overlord like Valentino (bro does not understand the concept of victim blaming).
♱. In his mind, the moth is so blatantly rancid that it just doesn't make any sense for anyone to ever think otherwise, even for a moment.
♱. But then, as he gets to know you better, he starts to see things a little bit differently.
♱. "This is gonna sound stupid..."
♱. You told him one day while speaking on the topic of the overlord who owned your soul, a rare occurrence indeed due to the stigma your contract seemed to carry.
♱. "But honestly, Val was the first person down here to actually make me feel like I was... I dunno... attractive?"
♱. You groaned at the end of your sentence, burying your head in your hands,
♱. "I just... I didn't recognize myself anymore, the person in the mirror wasn't me, y'know? It's like one second I was a human, and the next I was, well, this!"
♱. You exclaimed, gesturing to yourself all the while.
♱. "In a way, his absolutely ridiculous insistence that he could make me into a star made me realize that just because I looked a little different didn't mean I looked bad..."
♱. You trailed off, hands stuffed into your pockets as you looked into the distance,
♱. "And then when I learned about everything he had to offer? I mean how could I have possibly said no? It felt like a win-win back then, or at least something close to it. He promised that no one would touch me, that all he needed was my pretty face and a camera."
♱. You looked toward your then friend with a sigh, a tired smile plastered upon your face,
♱. "I guess he kept that part of the bargain, huh? I just never really thought he would end up being so... awful."
♱. You cringed at the end of your statement, eyes going glassy for a few moments before you suddenly clapped your hands together, standing up abruptly immediately afterward.
♱. "Haha, anyways, you have to have like a thousand contracts right? There's gotta be some good stories there."
♱. As you urged him to speak further on his own experiences, Alastor couldn't help but reconsider his previous thoughts regarding your deal.
♱. Perhaps you weren't as foolish as he had initially thought.
♱. Honestly though, as time goes on and your friendship develops even further, Valentino's contract with you really doesn't end up being that pressing of a topic.
♱. Most of the time, any thoughts regarding the overlord go unsaid, and your business with him is considered yours and yours alone.
♱. That is, until you miss a photo shoot for Slayboy magazine (sorry) and the moth turns up at the hotel, clearly pissed off.
♱. So pissed off in fact, that he had neglected to consider the fact that it wouldn't necessarily be you who responded to his incessant banging...
♱. With a wide grin and an almost obnoxious flourish, the radio demon opened the door, leaning slightly on his staff as he regarded the moth with an amused hum.
♱. "Oh my, the vice demon himself here to visit our humble hotel? Why, to what do I owe the displeasure?!"
♱. He exclaimed, watching as the man's eye twitched slightly in response.
♱. "Where is she?!"
♱. He growled, moving to stalk past Alastor only to be stopped at the pressure of the overlord's microphone against his chest,
♱. "Ah ah ah,"
♱. He tutted,
♱. "You most certainly do not want to do that."
♱. His voice held a hint of warning to it, and a great deal of amusement, his eyes full of malice as he spoke.
♱. Valentino glared,
♱. "Fuck off you corny old bitch, this doesn't concern you."
♱. In response, Alastor simply chuckled, his bones popping and muscles splitting as he slowly began to grow in size, in no mood for the other demon's antics.
♱. "Oh but that's where you're wrong, you insufferable wretch."
♱. He said with an earsplitting grin,
♱. "Anything that involves my most esteemed employee very much does concern me."
♱. In reaction to the sight before him, Valentino snarled, but took a step backward nonetheless, not quite stupid enough to pick a fight with the radio demon on his own.
♱. "Ugh, fine!"
♱. He shouted,
♱. "But you tell that fucking whore to be on site in thirty or I'll find a way to kill her twice!"
♱. And with that, he was turning back toward his limo, ignoring the loud radio static that sounded from behind as he did so.
♱. Of course though, that was just about the only time that Valentino ever got away with ordering you around in front of Alastor, because soon enough, your friendship began to bloom into an extremely unexpected romance.
♱. And after that?
♱. Well, Alastor became a lot less tolerant of the idea that something like your soul belonged to someone else.
♱. He was constantly glaring daggers at the moth demon nearly every time he saw him, be it at an overlord meeting, or even the photo shoots you had in studios outside of the V's gaudy looking headquarters (he might love you, but starting a war with Vox by hanging around in that tower definitely wouldn't be a very smart move).
♱. Makes a show of helping you undress at each and every shoot that he does go to though, neatly folding your clothing for you before pressing a gentle kiss to your head.
♱. "Go on then, my dear."
♱. He would purr,
♱. "I'll just be here enjoying the view if you need me." (He's so corny).
♱. Absolutely despises the fact that your deal forces you to show your body the way that you do in front of a camera. Like not a fan at all.
♱. He doesn't really judge you for it knowing why you ended up making your deal in the first place, but he has absolutely killed an obscene number of sinners and hellborn fools that he witnessed viewing your content in public.
♱. "Al, they're not doing any harm!"
♱. You commented one day after the particularly gruesome murder of a random sinner, arms crossed.
♱. "Oh, on the contrary, darling,"
♱. He'd purred with a wide and unsettling grin,
♱. "I'm afraid they were looking a bit too intently at what's mine."
♱. Yeah you didn't argue too much after that.
♱. (Not like it would ever do you any good to anyway).
♱. Whether or not he actually tries to find you a way out of your contract though, is really entirely up to you in the grand scheme of things.
♱. He certainly isn't fond of it, the idea of another man owning you and all...
♱. But in the end he'll get over it if you really want him to... Just give him a few hundred years or so...
♱. (Yeah unless you can give him like a thousand spectacular reasons not to, he's going to try to find a way to get you out of that deal with Valentino).
♱. Still, in the meantime, he definitely makes your shoots feel a little bit less daunting (although if Val makes one more comment about how lucrative a photo set with you and the radio demon would be, you're worried Al might actually kill the guy).
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gurugirl · 4 months
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Nympho | poly!nympho!harry
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Summary: Y/n is a nymphomaniac who just loves people. One day she happens upon a "harem" arrangement that seems perfect for her and her insatiable appetite. Loosely based on this Tumblr request.
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: This has already been released on my Patreon. This is the first part of an au that follows Y/n as she explores a new kind of relationship with 9 other females and Harry. All subsequent parts will only be posted on Patreon.
Warning: 18+ only, smut, voyeurism (consented), exhibitionism, multiple partners
Y/n had a problem on her hands. A problem few knew about. In fact, so few people knew of her problem that it was limited to only herself and her therapist. And one accidental drunken confession to a stranger at a bar.
She was what the medical world called someone with compulsive sexual behavior. In other words, a nymphomaniac.
She laughed when her therapist told her the opinion. Hypersexuality. Nymphomania.
Y/n always thought she was more just a young woman with a high libido. A libido no one could match. No one she’d met anyway. She couldn't keep a boyfriend or girlfriend long enough because they couldn’t meet her needs. Sexually.
She just really needed it all the time.
And of course, there’s not a cure for such a thing. Therapy, antidepressants maybe (she had no interest in this route), meditation…
Her Google searches on ways to soothe herself in between dry spells or times when she was purposely trying to “detox” only rendered stupid articles and based medical opinions.
So instead of trying to deny herself of her natural urges she went down a rabbit hole on the internet and found that there were plenty of others just like herself.
She wound up coming across a private members-only forum where people could vent about their frustrations and even meet up with others to sate their desires. Not everyone on the forum was a nymphomaniac like herself. Some were seeking particular relationships. There were those looking for a third. One was seeking a partner to slap them across the face. But there was a section for those with high libidos and nymphomaniacs.
The problem with some on that forum was that they were married and looking for something discreet to have on the side. In other words, they were looking to cheat. Y/n wasn’t interested in that. She didn’t want to hurt anyone or sneak around that way.
She was a silent observer for a while. Reading posts and learning all about the way people dealt with their own problems.
The Meet & Greet section of the forum was interesting. Most of the posts were private, invite-only, or by request-only so she wasn't able to see all of them. But she came across a sort of invitation.
Seeking open-minded females to join my household. Open and loving relationships only. Poly. Inquire for more information. No judgment.
She knew she was probably polyamorous. She liked multiple partners and would grow close to anyone she had sex with but also had no issues knowing her partners had sex with others.
So she clicked the ad, filled out the short informational survey and included a photo of herself (her cutest), requested to join the conversation, and waited until she was approved.
A response came back within only minutes.
She learned that the man who placed the ad was wealthy and living with many women in a kind of poly arrangement. Living in his mansion (pictures of his estate included) with him were 9 women. They all shared one another sexually and emotionally. All the sex one could want while also being financially taken care of.
She received a picture of Harry and each of the 9 women.
It seemed almost too good to be true. But she couldn’t pass up the chance to meet with them and find out more.
.           .           .
She’d busted her ass at work that day. She worked at a bakery so her mornings were early. And Saturday mornings were the most grueling. The line out of the shop by 10 am was usually 20 people deep. And that day was no different.
The nice part about working at a bakery was that she was usually off work by 1 pm. On Saturdays sometimes they sold out by noon.
She showered and threw on a dress and dried her hair before rushing to pour her coffee into a travel mug and set Harry’s address into her phone as she jumped into her car.
He told her that there was no rush to meet him by 3 but she hated being late. She was also quite anxious to meet everyone. To see what the setup was and find out if it was legit.
She did google the man of course. He was extremely wealthy and attractive. Did some charity work. There wasn’t too much about him. But he seemed to be credible.
When she arrived at the destination she was floored. She stopped her car in front of the tall gates and gawked at the details along the iron and stone. She couldn’t see beyond the gate but suddenly they began to slowly open up. The long driveway stretched into the property lined with trees and lovely landscaped shrubs with a fountain or two but when the trees parted and the drive wound into a circle in front of the home it was like something out of a movie.
She couldn’t even count the levels of the place. 3? 4 or maybe 5? It was difficult to tell from her little car.
She pulled the break lever and parked before getting out and staring up at the details on the façade of the mansion.
“Hi! Y/n?” A woman at the door greeted her with a smile as she descended the steps.
“Hi! Yes, I’m Y/n,” she waved and held her hand out to shake but the woman, who smelled like vanilla and amber pulled her in for a hug.
“I’m Chanel. We hope you feel comfortable here. Harry’s just inside,” she gestured toward the house and led Y/n up the steps and into the impressive entry with a double staircase, high ceilings, and marble floors. The place was immaculate.
Chanel took Y/n’s hand and guided her to another room where there were a few women, scantily clad and laughing, and then the man, who she was positive was Harry.
His light green eyes, wide grin, and dimples were gorgeous.
“Y/n,” he put his arms out toward her, “It’s so nice to finally see you in person,” he hugged her and kissed her cheek sweetly.
She was already feeling all the love from everyone. The other women that were in the room all hugged her and greeted her as well.
Harry showed her a few areas of the house as he gave her a rundown of how things worked.
“We all love and respect one another. No one in this house is off limits to anyone unless someone is having a day where they need to be alone but that’s rare. Everyone here likes sex a lot. We do things in the open here. Sometimes in private. I like to watch the girls playing and they enjoy watching me as well. We don’t like a lot of secrets here when it comes to sex.”
Y/n nodded and tried to imagine what that might look like. It sounded like a hot fantasy that only happened in porn.
“For example, this morning I had three of my lovers in bed with me and I woke up horny, as I always do and the one closest to me got my cock while the other two got off watching us. The other girls were in their rooms doing nasty things to one another as well,” he looked at her and grinned, “That’s kind of how things go here. Sex after dinner, before dinner. Right on the kitchen counter as someone is making dinner next to us.”
“Wow. That sounds incredible. Like a dream.” She said as she looked at his huge kitchen and two girls followed behind them.
“Would you like to see it in action? Right now Alana and Sasha are fucking in the TV room. I was just watching them before you arrived and I’m sure they’re still going at it. Up to you.”
She nodded. Everything about this situation felt like something she could quickly settle into. She’d love to have her days filled with sex and watching others and exploring.
Harry put his arm over Y/n’s shoulder and nudged her closer, “Don’t be shy,” he whispered as he walked them toward the TV room. Y/n could hear the girls moaning and the soft slick sounds that came with sex.
“Alana has the black hair, and Sasha is the one with the collar,” Harry explained.
Alana was on all fours as was Sasha who was eating her out from behind. Sasha was also using a dildo on herself as she steadied her body with one hand, face stuffed into Alana’s pussy and working the dildo in and out.
Alana turned to see Y/n and Harry and her lips were parted, “H… Hi…” she panted and then swayed her hips over Sasha’s face.
Y/n brought her hand up to wave, “Hi.”
She’d never been in a situation quite like this. She’d participated in sex parties, orgies, and the like, but to be part of a household where everyone has access to one another all day was a new concept.
“No one that lives here works. That’s another rule. No working. We all need to have access at all times, unless, like I said someone needs some space or a day alone. But really, this just means I don’t want anyone under my care to worry about money or stress about a job. I take care of everything.”
She looked from Harry back to the girls who were enjoying themselves in front of everyone. It was making her horny. Well, she was always horny, but seeing soft curves and breasts, and hearing their gasps and groans of ecstasy was making her panties wet.
She both loathed and loved her condition. Loathed it when she wasn’t in a spot to take care of herself. Loved it when she was.
“So it’s you and 9 women here right now?”
Harry nodded and put his hand on the back of her neck, gently squeezing, “That’s right. I’m open to as many as fit into our lifestyle here. I have sex with each girl every day. Sometimes all of us participate together. Some days I want to have sex with one of them a few times. Depends on the day.”
Y/n looked up at the man. His jawline was sharp. She was already hot and feeling achy and he was so attractive and looked so yummy to her. In fact, everyone she’d seen so far looked quite appealing. She’d be happy if Chanel who was just to her right had her way with her.
“No one ever gets jealous?” Y/n inquired.
Harry shook his head, “No. if jealousy does arise, this may not be the right situation. I have had some partners in the past who were invited but wound up not being able to handle it. And that’s okay. They didn’t know that they’d feel so jealous so we parted ways.”
She nodded and licked her lips as she set her gaze on the wet dildo that was being moved in and out of Sasha’s pussy.
“How does this all make you feel right now?” Harry asked.
“It sounds amazing. And I’m really turned on seeing this.”
“Yeah? Me too. Your survey said you were a nymphomaniac so you must be quite ready for a good fucking about right now. It’s up to you if you like this setup but I would like to bring you to my room and give you a preview of what you could expect.”
Y/n looked up at Harry and she could see his pupils were blown out and his lips were dark pink. She swallowed and nodded, “Yeah. That would be fun. I don’t mind if anyone watches, though. I’m very open.”
Harry licked his lips and drew his gaze over her face, “Then I’ll leave my bedroom door open.”
She followed Harry up the stairs and to his large bedroom. But as they passed the other rooms, she noted all the bedrooms were large. Huge in fact. Lots of toys and contraptions set up.
But Harry’s room was tame compared to some of the other spaces. His bed was massive and he did have cuff bars at the head of his bed as well as a bar that hung from his ceiling.
She felt someone behind her touch her shoulder, “Can I help you out of your dress?”
She turned to the woman and smiled as she nodded, “Sure. What’s your name?”
The woman took the bottom hem of Y/n’s dress and began to lift it, “Carrie. You’re beautiful, Y/n. Thank you for letting me see you.”
When her dress was off, Carrie lay it over a chair so it didn’t wrinkle and Harry stood before Y/n with his shirt off and all his tattoos that she had no idea existed were on display. Dark scatterings of tattoos in different styles. His left arm littered in them.
But even more impressive was his body. Well-toned, muscular, lean. Harry moved his hands behind her back and unhooked her bra like an expert as he kissed her neck. She could feel puffs of his warm breath against her skin as she closed her eyes and stretched her neck out for his access as she placed her hands on his shoulders. He lowered his mouth to her clavicle and then to her breasts when she felt his fingers in the band of her panties to pull them off her legs. He pressed his mouth to her tummy and once her panties were on the floor around her ankles he pulled her to his bed, “How do you want it, Y/n? What do you like?” He began to take his pants off as he asked her and she scooted into the bed.
“God I like so many things. Let me suck you off first. It’s gonna make me drip and then I want to be fucked.”
Harry watched her as he dragged his underwear down and his heavy cock drooped. He was thick and fully hard but unlike the last man she slept with, his cock couldn’t stand upward because it was too large. She moaned and reached for him as he climbed up to her on the bed.
“Whatever you want. Is it okay if Carrie eats you out while you suck me off? I can tell she wants to play too,” he looked behind himself at Carrie and then back to Y/n.
“Oh… yes! Do you want to, Carrie?” Y/n asked.
“It would be my pleasure.” Carried sauntered toward the bed and got onto her knees to wait until Harry and Y/n were in position.
Harry lay on his back and spread his legs as he ran his palm over himself, pumping down to the base of his pretty cock. His thighs looked strong and healthy. Harry’s abs were begging for her tongue so she climbed between his legs and did just that. She licked upward over his abs and kissed as she went, “God your body is something I can worship,” Y/n moaned as she grasped onto his thighs and worked her tongue over his skin and his tattoos.
Harry softly moaned and then put his hand into Y/n’s hair, pulling her away from his abs, “I’ll give you five minutes on my cock. And then I’m gonna fuck you, okay darling?”
It was bliss. Y/n had participated in group sex but this felt so right. She tasted Harry’s prick, licking down to his balls, and then licked and kissed his scrotum. She stuffed her mouth with his sac and moaned around him. Harry gasped. Carrie had laid on her back with her face up with Y/n’s pussy pressed into her face as Y/n sucked and licked Harry up.
Carrie’s soft warm tongue and her lips felt like relief on her aching, wet pussy. But once Y/n finally put Harry’s cock into her mouth and got into a good pace Carrie had to get onto her knees and lean into Y/n from behind to keep licking at her cunt.
Y/n wretched the tiniest bit as she lowered over him as far as she could and sucked as she lifted upward, only to repeat her wet tongue and warm mouth encasing his cock and then gagging as his tip reached to the back of her throat and she pushed even further to make his cock reach deeper.
“That’s five minutes,” Harry panted his words as pulled her up and drew her in for a wet kiss.
Carrie moved herself to the foot of the bed and took her panties off before she began running her fingers over her pussy.
He picked up the condom that was conveniently on his bedside table, “We’ll use condoms until everything is all worked out,” he began to put the condom over his cock, “We want to make sure you’re happy here and this is what you really want and then you’ll get tested for STDs and we’ll make sure you're one a good birth control. Once that’s out of the way,” he tossed the wrapper onto the nightstand, “Everything will be raw. I like coming inside my girls and they like to walk around dripping of it or have it eaten out of them.” His grin was a little cocky but Y/n could see why. He was living the dream. They all were.
She couldn’t wait to feel him inside of her as she laid on her back and Harry fit himself between her thighs. He gently pressed his thumb through her slick crease and then put it into his mouth to taste before running his fingers over her clit.
Y/n moaned and bucked her hips upward as she kept her eyes on his pretty green ones.
“Want my cock, Y/n?” He painted his condom-covered prick through her folds and up over her clit.
“I need it. Need to come so bad.”
Harry looked down to her pussy and grasped his base as he lined himself up with her. Y/n couldn’t see Carrie but she could hear how wet she was and her small moans as Harry finally slid inside.
“Fuck… I think you belong here, Y/n,” he gritted as he backed out and then pushed back into her, his tip reaching into her guts deliciously.
She nodded in response as Harry’s intense eyes were locked on hers, “Yes…”
Harry worked himself into Y/n, getting deeper on each plunge until his hips were pasted to hers and he was fucking into her, pushing her up gently with each rock of his hips.
Harry was breathing hard as he paused and took Y/n’s thighs and pressed them into her chest so he could fuck down into her with deep, painful strokes. The pain was welcome. Y/n loved getting her guts rearranged by a man with a big cock just as much as she loved the soft and delicate lips and fingers of a woman. All forms were welcome. But she did prefer her men with big cocks. Women were better lovers in general and she would never be able to choose if she liked men or women better. All she knew was that Harry’s cock was exactly what she wanted in a man.
She squeaked when he began to rail into her, her pussy walls sucking him in and squeezing as he drove into her.
Harry’s rhythmic breath with each of his thrusts was sexy. She loved to hear a man enjoying her body.
“Oh, Y/n…” he grunted, “I’m not letting you leave. I’m gonna need this pussy every day.”
She moaned loudly and all she could get out was a gurgled, “Yes!” It was hard to get much breath into her lungs with the way Harry had her folded in half and the pace at which he was pounding into her.
“Yeah? You wanna be my new girl? Have lots of girlfriends and one boyfriend, Y/n? Get cock and pussy every day?”
Tears fell from her face as she blubbered and moaned a resounding, “Yes!”
Carrie was gasping her words as she fingered herself to the view, “Oh god! That looks like it feels so good!”
“It does feel good. You like watching her pussy get fucked, baby?” Harry spoke to Carrie as he released Y/n’s legs so her feet fell flat to the mattress.
“Yes! Oh, Daddy! I want to watch it every day! Please!”
With the change of position and Y/n’s knees bent, her feet on the mattress Harry’s groin rubbed into her clit and she felt that spark of the finale approaching. She’d been so on edge since she arrived at Harry’s home and then seeing Sasha and Alana fucking in front of her and now with Carrie watching and Harry’s cock punching into her tummy in hard and long strokes she was simply in outer space. Her body was receiving his big cock and her clit was stimulated like she needed.
“Feel it, Y/n?” Harry ground into her with his eyes on hers, rolling his hips sensually and making sure he was smushing into her button. He knew what he was doing. He knew his cock felt good inside of her and that once he added the stimulation of her clit she’d be coming soon. All his girls loved his cock. Loved their clit touched while he was inside of them. And he could see it was no different with Y/n.
“Harry, yes! I feel you. It feels so good. I’m gonna come…”
Harry groaned loudly and slammed his hips into hers. He massaged her tits as he kept himself still for a moment to catch his breath, “You wanna come, Y/n? Like how it feels?”
“I do! Harry, please…” she begged as she bucked her hips up into him to get him to start moving. She was so close.
Harry grunted a laugh and circled his hips, digging his cock into her cervix and she hissed at the ache, “You don’t even have to beg here unless that’s what you like. I’m always gonna make you come, Y/n.” He was breathing hard as he spoke.
“I want it every day. I love this. I want her next,” Y/n lifted her neck and made eye contact with Carrie who was softly cooing. She’d already come but she was still rubbing her pussy and moving her hips.
“Then you can have it. And Carrie too if you want.”
Y/n moaned and nodded as Harry began to move again. Inching back and then pressing himself into the hilt. Over and over again until it was skin smacking wetly and loud choked moans and gasps.
Her tits bounced back and forth as Harry ravaged her pussy, fucking into her perfectly until she clamped down on his cock and began to pulse around him, pussy fluttering and gushing as she cried out.
“That’s it, Y/n… Come for me… just like that… good girl…” he watched her face screw up as she orgasmed and he held himself back. He could have released into his condom but he wanted Y/n to feel everything the way it was meant to be felt. The inner walls of her spasming cunt, pressing and pulling Harry’s cock in as she rammed into her turned her into a melted puddle.
When she opened her eyes she saw Harry watching her with a grin, “Want to eat my come out of Carrie’s pussy?”
Y/n moaned and nodded, “Fuck yes.”
She sat up as Harry pulled himself out and removed his condom. He dragged Carrie toward him by her ankles and the girl laughed with a squeal. Y/n loved this. She was feeling so good after her orgasm and now she was about to get to play with another person and eat come from the pretty girl’s pussy. It was a dream.
She watched as Harry flipped her over to her tummy and swatted her bottom, Carrie laughed and angled her hips so Harry could enter her.
He leaned over Carrie and spoke lowly, but still loud enough for Y/n to hear, “Such a good fucking little girl for me, baby. Want Daddy’s cock and his come?”
She whined and lifted her hips again, hoping he’d just enter her, “Yes, Daddy!”
Y/n wondered if all the girls called him daddy or if it was different depending on the girl.
With Carrie’s tummy pressed into the mattress, Harry spread her cheeks and plunged into her in one go as she grunted and moaned.
Y/n climbed up closer to watch Carrie’s pussy spread open for Harry’s bare cock and she was immediately horny again.
He rocked into her and he moaned softly until his thrusts grew sloppy, his hips were jerking and he began to whimper, “Oh shit… Fucking gonna come, baby,” he panted, “Y/n… I’m coming inside of her, watch,” he whined as he gripped Carrie's hips and Y/n could see Harry’s balls tighten and throb as he released into Carrie.
Carrie moaned into the blankets below her face as Harry coughed out a loud groan. It was so hot. She loved having such a good view of two people having sex.
When Harry pulled out with his chest still heaving he grabbed Y/n’s hand, “She’s all yours now, Y/n. Filled with my come.”
Y/n smoothed her hands over Carrie’s soft bottom and lifted her hips up before she tongued up and down Carrie’s entrance, first tasting Carrie’s slick arousal and then as Harry’s come began to drip out of her opening she caught it and swallowed it down little by little as he leaked from her.
“Get on your back so I can really eat you out,” Y/n directed Carrie.
Harry sat up against his headboard and watched the girls. Carrie spread her legs as she was on her back and Y/n stuffed her fingers inside, watching Harry’s come coat her fingers as she pushed it back inside of Carrie slowly.
When she put her mouth back onto Carrie she slurped his come from her. There was a lot. But Carrie was loving the attention as she rolled her hips and moaned.
Y/n used her tongue to clean up as much of Carrie as she could but Carrie was so wet and slippery it was quite the task. A yummy task, but still.
When she felt Harry’s hands on her hips she turned to look at him.
“I’m gonna eat you out while you eat her out and then I’m gonna fuck you again because I’m ready for round two already. Okay?”
Y/n grinned widely. She had hit the jackpot with this setup unless it was just a dream. But she would revel in it as long as she could. She put her lips around Carrie’s clit as she felt Harry’s fingers inside of her cunt before he lapped her up with his tongue.
She was sure she would enjoy living this way with Harry and all the girls. She couldn’t wait to try each one of them out. But for now, Carrie tasted diving and Harry’s tongue was magic and she needed to put in her two week’s notice at the bakery.
A/N: Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this and would like more I'd be so grateful to you for joining my Patreon!! xoxo
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