Tamaki is one of your favorite people in the world, although heâs s a little silly and shy, Tamakiâs one of the best boyfriend in the world. Even if youâre his first EVER girlfriend or the first girl he interacted with. (Other than Nejire Hado, but she doesnât count lol) If youâre sick, he would not hesitate to take care of you and spoil you with his cooking. He buys you your favorite flowers whenever you feel down. One time, Tamaki noticed you acted weird before you got your period. So what did he do? He obviously got a period tracker so he can tell when youâre ovulating. đ So here you are, arching your back on the bed as heâs DESTROYING you with his tongue.
âNghh!! Tamaaa.. Why are you doing this for me..â you moan out. He looks up from your opened legs, his face covered in your slick. He licks his lips and kissed the inside of your thigh. His grip on your legs is bruising, forcing them open.
âWhy shouldnât I do this for you? Youâre clearly ovulating.. Why not help solve it?â He grins.
Heâs never been the type to be flirty or sexual, if anything heâs always been the shy type who will still be embarrassed if he did something small. But now, heâs definitely opened up.
Tamaki dives back down and something sparks inside, just before he was only doing small kitten licks and sucking on your clit but now all of a sudden heâs full on flattening his tongue and giving open-mouthed kisses on your folds. He releases his grip on your thigh and takes his pointer finger and plays with your soaking folds, collecting all of the slick and sucking his finger clean. Youâre now squirming and whimpering just from his tongue, how are you gonna be able to take his finger?
âT-tama!!.. mmm.. you make me feel so so goodduhhhh!!â You whimper. He groans in return because he is SO pussy drunk, he canât even reply to you.
As youre whimpering and whining, heâs having a blast down there. âWhat if i suck you out and fuck my finger into you, huh? Do you want that hm?â His voice vibrates into you, resulting in you twitching. âU-uh huh! yes plea-mmm!!.â He doesnât let you finish your sentence before pushing his thick digit into your soaking hole. Your gummy walls suck on his finger as he pulls it in and out.
âFuck, your pussy is so tight.. i cant imagine how tight youâll be once I destroy you with my dick..â
His erection is growing harder and harder, the only thing he can do right now is hump the bed, in hopes of cumming for the results. Tamakiâs face is red and full of blush, his ears are pink.
âGod, this is so embarrassing.. humping the bed like a stupid teenager. Just wait til i fill you up. Iâll make sure you wonât walk for days.â he groans out into your pussy.
He starts speeding up and pushing his finger in and out while licking your wet folds. His finger is so big, itâs hitting that one spongey spot that triggers you to come immediately. As heâs eating you out and fingering you, hes also humping the bed. Heâs whimpering and crying because of the overstimulation.
âA-aah!! Tama!! Iâm gonna come, Im gonna come!!â You shriek.
ânghh.! au-aughhâŠâ He comes in his boxers.
The second you say that, he cums in his boxers. It was like that was the signal to release. As he cums, you also hit your climax. You both rest your head, his finger still in your pussy.
âR-round 2?â You reply sheepishly.
hai guys this is my second ever post, do you think I improved from my ojiro fic? I tried something new, SMUTTTTTTT!! Please tell me some tips or ideas on how I can get better at writing, tyyy
Warnings: aged up!tamaki x reader, SUB tamaki, whiny tamaki, teasing, whimpering, smut with no plot lol
Heâs on the bed, arms tied to the bed frame, clothed cock straining against his boxers, His cock is hard and twitching from underneath the pants, pearls of precum leaking through his boxers. Tamakiâs face is flushed from his neck to his head, just like his tip. The noises heâs making is so cute and adorable, âmmhm..â and ânghh!!â You grab his waistband with 2 of your fingers and release his aching cock, It springs back and forth until it lands on his chest. âhaa, haaa!! b-baby please take ca-hic!-re of me..â
His back is arched and hips are bucking the air, desperate for any kind of touch. Thankfully youâre here to soothe him, but you had different plans..
Your tongue is tracing circles on his thick thighs, wetting them. The tension is strong, youre so close but so far to his poor twitching, desperate cock. Then you slowly move up, peckering kisses and licking his delicious vanilla scent from his thighs to his abs. His abs flex as you trace every little indent.
ângh..! B-baby can you ple-hic!! ase just help me..â heâs whimpering oh so quietly.
You look up from his chest with your big doe eyes. âmmm, what was that tama? iâm just soaking in your delicious scent, canât afford to waste such a taste..â
You canât afford to ruin the moment, so you obey his wishes and pepper kisses as you move down to his aching cock. Although itâs not as thick, it is SO big, veins running up and down his shaft, pink flushed tip thats sticky from his precum spurting out.
You use both hands and stroke it slowly, halfway up then you swirl your tongue around his flushed tip. Lips tightening on the underside of his tip, you stroke the rest of his remaining shaft as you suck it. The salty taste hitting your tongue, you can tell heâs about to cum. He starts twitching n whimpering more than he was before.
âa-ahhu!! p-please let me cum, please momm-hic!mmy..â
As youâre sucking him, you pop your warm soft lips off from his sore dick, still jerking him off to say, âYouâve had such a long day baby.. youâre so cute when youre begging me to cum, but you gave me an attitude yesterday.. donât forget!â
ân-nooo pleasepleaseplease, iâm going to burst ple-hic!!ase baby..â
âfine, next time donât think iâll be going easy on you..â you warn him.
The second you give him permission to cum, he shoots his load all over your face. His hands are covering his eyes out of embarrassment, but since heâs a pervert inside he obviously leaves a hole to watch your face covered in his cum. He shoots buckets of cum, itâs basically covering your face. As his dick slowly softens, you take 2 fingers and scoop his cum and suck on your fingers dry. While he watched, something sparked inside of him.
His dick hardens again and using his strong arms, he breaks the rope and grabs you into a mating press. Good luck trying to sleep tonight because that ainât happening!!
(đź) Fat smooch to you and more, cutie pie ;3 Let's get right down and dirty ^3^ Hybrid!Tamaki Amajiki and his human handler. He's quite timid at first, his last handler was a bitch >:( He's afraid at first, yet slowly but surely he lets Y/N in. She doesn't force him to do anything and lets him have plenty of room to himself. But he can't seem to keep to himself when mating season hits him like a train. He has his own room, but isn't the quietest puppy. Helplessly trying to pleasure himself, Y/N walks in on him concerned about the noises, but finds herself in a pickle. What does Tamaki do? How does it go? đ€«đ€ (Gimmiegimmiegimmiegimmie)
Hybrid!Tamaki Amajiki x Human Handler!Y/N
â ïžMinors dniâ ïž
Notes: hey yâall sorry I was busy due to work, school so I took a vacation and I got a new phone
(Messy rut fic, your POV)
From the day you were assigned as his handler, you knew Tamaki Amajiki wasnât like the other hybrids you had worked with. The others were often bold, curious, even pushy â but Tamaki? He was a bundle of folded ears and lowered eyes. He flinched if you moved too fast, stiffened if you raised your hand too quickly, and barely spoke above a whisper unless you reassured him.
It didnât take long to realize why. His last handler had been cruel, controlling, treating him less like a living being and more like a tool. It explained the way his tail would tuck tight between his legs whenever he thought heâd upset you, or the way his ears would press flat to his head whenever you raised your voice â even if you werenât raising it at him.
So you gave him space. His own room. His own time. You let him approach you, instead of forcing anything. And slowly but surely, he did.
A week in, he began sitting near you instead of across the room. Two weeks, he let his tail rest across your lap when he lay on the couch. A month in, he fell asleep on your shoulder, ears twitching in soft dreams while his tail wagged faintly against your thigh.
He was timid, but he trusted you.
And thatâs why, weeks later, the noises from his room in the middle of the night had your stomach knotting in worry.
At first it sounded like whimpers â pained, stuttered, muffled against his pillow. You stood outside his door, hand hovering, debating. He valued his privacy. But the sounds only grew louder. Choked little cries, the faint thump of the mattress, claws scratching against the sheets.
âTamaki?â you called softly, tapping the door. âAre you okay?â
No answer. Just a desperate little whine that made the hair on your arms rise.
You pushed the door open.
The sight hit you like a truck.
Tamaki was sprawled out on his bed, body slick with sweat, his shirt tugged up over his chest while his sweatpants were shoved halfway down his thighs. His hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking fast and messy, but his flushed face told you it wasnât working. His ears were flat, tail thrashing helplessly against the sheets, and his pupils were blown wide with need.
His head snapped toward you the moment you entered. âIâ! I wasnâtâ! D-Donât lookâ!â he stammered, hand freezing, body curling inward as though to hide. His tail whipped anxiously, ears plastered back.
But you could smell it in the room â musky, heavy, dizzying. His rut.
Your chest tightened. No wonder he sounded like he was in pain.
âTamaki,â you said gently, stepping closer despite his frantic whimpers. âYouâre in rut, arenât you?â
He hid his face in his arm, voice muffled and trembling. âIâ I c-canât stop itâ it h-hurtsâ Iâm sorry, I didnât mean toâ I-I tried to⊠t-to fix it myself butââ His voice cracked on a desperate whine. His hips bucked up helplessly into his hand, precum dripping down his knuckles. âN-Not enoughâ itâs not enoughâŠâ
Your heart squeezed. His tail thumped erratically, his thighs trembling as though he was fighting the urge to crawl to you.
You knelt at the edge of the bed, reaching to stroke his damp hair back from his face. âTamaki⊠look at me.â
Slowly, he peeked up through his lashes, eyes shimmering with shame. His ears twitched, caught between folding back and perking toward you.
âDo you⊠do you want me to help you?â you asked softly.
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. His hips jerked upward again, rut overriding his control. His voice cracked into a high-pitched whimper, tail wagging in a blur before slapping the sheets. âY-Yesâ! Please, Iâ I canâtâ oh godââ
You climbed onto the bed, and that was all it took for his control to snap.
Tamaki surged forward with a desperate growl, though even in his need he faltered, waiting for you to shove him away. But you didnât. You pulled him close, and that was all the permission he needed. His mouth crashed against yours, hot and sloppy, little whines spilling between kisses. His ears twitched wildly, tail thumping the mattress like an eager pup as he pressed against you, rut driving him crazy.
His cock was already leaking, smearing wet against your thigh as he rutted helplessly against you. âIt h-hurts, it hurtsâ need youââ he babbled, breathless, lips trembling against your skin.
You eased him back onto the bed, straddling his hips, and his eyes rolled when you pressed down on him. âShh⊠Iâve got you,â you whispered, tugging his sweatpants lower.
The moment you guided him inside, Tamaki cried out â a raw, needy sound that sent shivers through you. His ears shot upright, then folded back hard, tail thrashing as his claws dug into the sheets.
âY/Nâ!â he gasped, body trembling under you, eyes wide with shock and ecstasy. âSo warmâ oh god, y-you feel s-soâ I-I canâtâ!â
His hips bucked wildly, instincts taking over as he began thrusting up into you with messy, frantic rhythm. Each snap of his hips was punctuated by needy whimpers, his hands clawing at your waist like he was terrified youâd vanish.
âP-Please donât⊠donât leave meâ I-I canâtâ need youââ
âIâm not going anywhere,â you soothed, though the words caught in your throat as he hit deep, rut-driven thrusts shaking through your body.
Tamaki keened, burying his face in your neck, his tongue flicking over your skin as he tried to scent you, mark you, claim you. His tail curled tight around your leg, binding you closer as if to hold you in place.
The rhythm grew rougher, sloppier, every movement soaked in desperation. His whimpers turned into growled groans, his voice breaking as he tried to hold back â but his rut wouldnât let him.
âC-Can Iâ insideâ? Please, Y/N, Iâ I wannaâ need toââ His words tumbled, frantic, pleading, every bit the needy pup undone by instinct.
You tightened your grip on his hair, pulling him to look at you. His golden eyes were hazy, wet, his face flushed scarlet, ears twitching as he waited on your answer.
âYes,â you breathed. âInside.â
That was it. His restraint shattered.
With a choked cry, Tamakiâs hips slammed up, burying himself deep as his body trembled violently beneath you. His claws dug into your back, tail coiling tight as he spilled inside you with desperate, broken moans of your name. His whole body shook, rut finally finding relief in the warmth of your body.
Even when his orgasm subsided, he clung to you, whimpering softly as his cock throbbed still inside you, rut not fully satisfied. His tail wagged weakly, ears flicking as his voice cracked.
âY-Y/N⊠d-donât leave me tonight⊠pleaseâŠâ
You kissed his temple, stroking his damp hair. âI wonât. Iâll take care of you until itâs over.â
His body was still trembling beneath you, chest heaving as he caught his breath. Sweat dampened his bangs, his ears twitching weakly against your cheek while his tail gave lazy, tired wags. But even with his cock still buried inside you, still twitching from release, you could feel it â the insistent throb, the way his hips gave tiny unconscious jerks.
âY/NâŠâ His voice was wrecked, hoarse from moaning. He lifted his flushed face from your chest, golden eyes glazed and pleading. âI-itâs not⊠over⊠I stillâ n-needââ
You stroked his cheek, and his whole body leaned into the touch like a starving pup. âItâs okay,â you whispered. âIâll stay with you through all of it.â
That reassurance was all it took for him to snap again.
He growled low in his throat â a sound that startled even him â before flipping you onto your back with a strength you hadnât expected. His ears pressed flat, tail lashing as he pulled out only to slam back into you with messy, wet force. You cried out, hands gripping his shoulders, and Tamaki let out a strangled whimper, rut taking the wheel.
âF-feels too goodâ c-canât stopâ!â he babbled, hips snapping against yours in frantic rhythm. His claws dug into the sheets beside your head, shredding the fabric as he pounded into you. Precum and his first release made every thrust sloppy, wet sounds filling the room alongside his ragged moans.
Your name spilled from his lips like a mantra. âY/Nâ Y/Nâ oh godâ warmâ tightâ gonnaâ!â His tail whipped so hard it smacked the wall, his ears twitching wildly as he buried himself deep and came again with a guttural cry.
Hot release flooded you for the second time, but even as his cock twitched inside, it never softened. His body slumped forward, forehead pressing against yours, but his hips still gave little needy thrusts.
âR-rutâ wonât let me stopââ he whimpered, drool wetting your shoulder as he nuzzled into your neck, licking and scenting desperately. His tail wrapped tight around your thigh like a leash, holding you against him. âPleaseâ please let meâ againâ I needâ!â
Your body was already trembling, but you nodded, brushing his damp hair back. âGo on, Tamaki. I can take it.â
The sound he made â half whine, half growl â shook you to your core.
This time there was no hesitation. He dragged you up onto your hands and knees, tail curling possessively around your waist, before rutting into you from behind with raw, animalistic force. His claws gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, pulling you back into each desperate thrust.
Slap. Slap. Slap. The wet sounds of his cock driving into your soaked cunt filled the room, his panting whines echoing in your ears.
âSo goodâ so goodâ m-mineââ His words broke into snarls, tongue dragging over your shoulder as he bit gently, then harder, marking you. His hips stuttered as another climax crashed over him, hot and messy inside you, but he didnât even pause â his rut wouldnât let him.
You felt the spill of his seed leak down your thighs, but Tamaki only whimpered, fucking it back into you, desperate to keep every drop inside.
Round after round blurred together.
By the third, he was shaking, sweat dripping from his chin, but still pounding into you with messy, uncontrolled thrusts. His tail coiled tighter around your waist, his whines cracked into near-howls.
By the fourth, he was babbling nonsense â your name, pleas not to leave, broken cries of âso goodâ need moreâ canât stopâ!â as his knot swelled and locked him deep inside, forcing you to take every messy spurt.
By the fifth, he was delirious, trembling so hard he could barely hold himself up, drool on your skin, cock still throbbing as his body refused to let go.
When he finally collapsed against you, both of you sticky, trembling, bodies coated in sweat and seed, his ears twitched weakly against your shoulder. His tail gave one last exhausted wag before falling limp.
âY/NâŠâ he whispered hoarsely, voice breaking. âThank you⊠for not leaving meâŠâ
You wrapped your arms around him, stroking his damp hair as he trembled. âI told you. Iâll take care of you.â
A soft, content whimper left him, his body relaxing for the first time that night. His rut would flare again soon, you knew, but for now â he was yours, utterly spent, safe in your arms.
I wanted to make this extra special since I was on break hope you guys love itđ
àŁȘ . ËË đ„Š I kind of hate thisâŠâŠ and I made it way too long on accident. But once I started I wanted so badly to finish it, soâŠ.. please enjoy while I crawl into a hole. (Őßč - ßčŐ)
Izuku never fails to stand tall in the face of whatever comes his way. The man is an unyielding force in his resolve if he believes in what heâs doing.
Such a statement is simply a fact of life. Itâs like declaring that the sky is blue, grass is green, and Midoriya Izuku happens to be the single most determined man youâd ever met.
Heâs clever, wicked smart and, as heâs gotten older, heâs managed to get a handle on his nervous stuttering and rambling.
Hell, if you watched him in an interview now, you wouldnât think to associate him with the humiliating first interview heâd had right out of school that managed to make him go viral overnight. The comments were not kind.
So, as calm and well spoken as Izuku is today, you never expected him to be such aâŠ.. such a pussy hound for you. Itâs the best way you can describe it.
Izuku fucking loves that tight little pussy of yours in such a gut wrenching manner that he day dreams about it often enough itâs resulted in Bakugou smacking him upside the head to âpay fucking attention,â more than once during department meetings.
The scenarios that run rampant through his mind are more than enough to send all his blood rushing below his bellybutton while heâs at his desk. With the way his stomach clenches and the ache that burns and nags at him to just get. inside. your. fucking. pussy. â well, heâs sure his briefs are sticking to the tip of his cock in the most lewd way.
So, Izuku takes a long lunch.
Just like that, as soon as he gets home, Izuku becomes the stuttering, blushing, babbling mess he was not so long ago. He strides into your kitchen, snaking his arms around your waist and groans when he smells the sweet vanilla scent of your lotion on your neck.
You easily let him grip your hips and lift you up onto the edge of the counter, fingers slipping into your soft sleep shorts and tugging them down and off your ankles. Izuku kisses you frantically, shoving his pants to mid thigh and allowing his cock to bob free and smack his stomach.
He shivers, giving you the prettiest high pitched whine that shoots straight to your pussy when his heavy dick starts stretching you a bit too eagerly. His lips part and his cheeks blossom with a blush so intense youâre sure steam will come from his ears as he bottoms out.
Itâs too much too quickly and when you hiss, sinking your nails into his shoulders, all he can do is bury his face in your throat and whimper in apology. You can tell heâs desperate when his voice starts to shake and his hips thrust in shallow motions controlled by a mind of their own.
He babbles, âMâsorry princess, mâso sorry! Your pussyâs so good squeezing my cock, I canât stay still. God â oh my god, please please let me fuck you!â
Itâs fruitless to resist his begging. So suffice to say, you let your blubbering, stupidly hot, pussy hound of a husband use you until youâre both curling your toes and seeing stars.
Tamaki is shy on a good day.
He blushes bubblegum pink, he stammers, he avoids eye contact to the absolute best of his ability during interviews. Of course, he does manage to put on a more approachable front to face the public. If only to show impressionable children that if he can be brave, then they can, but still he struggles with his own anxiety.
Itâs only common sense that everyone assumes youâre the more dominate one in the bedroom, and well, they arenât wrong, per se.
But, there are two sides to every coin, and Tamaki is nothing if not a pussy hound for you.
Granted, his inner dog only comes out every so often, and even then heâs still a desperate puppy who seems to wiggle his way into having control.
And tonight, thatâs where you find yourself.
Tamaki swears he canât help it.
âT-Tamaki, stop!â You push at his shoulders, the warmth of his slick chest presses firmly against your tits and it does not help your resolve in any way. âLet me finish washing my hair at least,â you protest weakly, steam curling up into the air around you both, blanketing the shower in a fog.
Tamaki whines childishly into your throat, sucking at the hollow of it until you shudder in his hold. His fingers tighten on your hips, thumbs tracing the bone softly.
âPlease pretty girl, I need you so bad. I wanna feel your pussy sucking on my cock. Iâve wanted it all day,â he pleads against your collarbone, voice pitching higher, dragging out the words at the end as he complains continuously.
Heâs been at this for almost the entirety of your mutual shower and, really, itâs not as if you donât want to have sex with him, you just wanted to finish cleaning off first! Decidedly, you lace your fingers in his drenched purple hair and yank until he pulls back and meets your gaze.
His face is a pretty rosy pink and his eyes are so hooded theyâre almost shut, no trace of your shy husband to be found as he stares you down with a searing heat.
Within a heart beat of your agreement he spins you, pushing a hand into the middle of your back and tugging on your hip until your ass is sticking out. You yelp, catching yourself with palms meeting cool tile.
His cock is full and jumps steadily when he rolls his hips to drag it over the lips of your pussy, gasping softly and hanging onto your waist with an iron grip until his weeping tip catches. Then heâs sliding inside and stretching you out completely with one sharp thrust.
One low moan of his name and Tamakiâs wrenching you back to meet each desperate push of his hips. The smack of your skin is so loud it makes your face burn, and the force of it pulls you up onto your toes to keep your balance. This manâs got you biting your fingers just to keep yourself grounded.
Your poor husbandâs been so worked up all day that when his panting turns into stuttered breaths and cut off whimpers after about three minutes, youâre not surprised.
âOh, oh god, Iâm gonna cum baby, wanna cum inside. Please can I?â He pleads, eyes glued to where his cock disappears inside your pussy and returns even shinier than before.
Heâs crying out, shoving his dick to the root inside you and stuffing you full before you finish nodding yes.
But, it doesnât bother you much that he finished so fast. Soon after, a soft, warm tongue starts playing with your clit, lazily eating your pussy until youâre licked clean of his release and squirting on his face.
Megumi pretends to be aloof. He pretends that heâs cool, collected, and apathetic. As if nothing ruffles his feathers, and to give him credit, he can be those things.
Yet, heâs also much more. Once you sneak past his prickly exterior, Megumi is the kind of guy who cares so much that he has to pretend he doesnât or itâll tear him to shreds. Actions speak louder than words with him.
Most people arenât privy to the softer side of your sweet husband and he maintains his uncaring attitude to the majority nonetheless. Like itâs some kind of secret.
So youâre sure people would be shocked to find that Megumi can and has, on several occasions, dissolved into a messy, needy, unraveled pussy hound when it comes to you.
When Megumi falls into this sort of mood, he really lets go. Heâs been sending you increasingly toe curling texts and pictures all day while you were at work and you just knew what was coming once you returned home.
You find the dark haired man sitting on your couch, shorts and briefs shoved to his thighs and t-shirt rumpled at his collar bone. Slender fingers curl around his cock, jerking himself off slowly, a delicious peachy blush trailing from his cheeks to his nipples.
His head raises up when he spots you, eyes heavy and smoldering when he reaches a hand out to you and makes a grabbing motion.
âCâmere baby, want you so bad,â he murmurs pitifully, hips rolling up to meet his hand when he drags it back down his shaft. You raise an eyebrow in amusement and he pushes out his lower lip.
âYou need it that bad Megumi?â You tease, sauntering over to the couch to get a better look at him. He scowls in return but his hand never leaves his cock, thumb swiping over the head which makes him bite his lower lip.
He sinks down a little lower into the couch, brows pinched together to emphasize his pretty little pout. âDonât be mean. Just ride me.â He pauses, eyeing you. âPlease.â
âAwfully demanding for someone who needs my pussy so badly, arenât you?â The smug smile on your face makes Megumi huff.
You donât waste much more time teasing after that, too riled up from all the nasty texts heâd sent you throughout the day.
You strip off your clothes, Megumi kicking off his shorts and briefs, yanking his shirt off in similar fashion, tossing them aside. You crawl onto the couch and straddle his lap, raising on your knees and steadying him at the base until you smoothly sit all the way down on his cock.
Megumiâs hands fly to your waist, head tossing backwards and eyes rolling back with a throaty moan when he finally gets the unrelenting tight squeeze on his dick that heâs been longing for since he woke up this morning.
You thread a hand through the hair at the base of his skull and pull until he looks you straight in the eye. He looks pussy drunk already with his glassy eyes and pink cheeks, jaw hanging open as his chest heaves. To think, you havenât even moved yet.
You ride him slowly at first, listening to his bitten off gasps each time you sit back down. When you start to pick up the pace, Megumiâs eyes widen and his nails pinch your hips.
Megumi pleads with you to no avail. âOh fuck, your pussy feels amazing princess, I canât.â His voice takes on the whiny quality that you adore. âPlease, s-slow down baby or Iâm gonna cum.â
You donât slow down. You kiss him sweetly, brace a hand on one shoulder, tangle the other in his hair again and fuck him until his breaths are shuddering remnants of a sob and heâs limp on the couch beneath you.
Tobio, without sugar coating it, is arrogant. Donât get it wrong, he can back that confidence up with the seemingly natural intelligence he has when it comes to volleyball, but heâs clueless with relationships. Not to mention he has zero filter.
But heâs kind. Heâs sweet, and you love Tobio so much for trying his very best to understand the ins and outs of what it means to be a good boyfriend to you. He becomes such an easygoing version of himself when heâs alone with you and you get more enamored with him by the day.
Thatâs why youâre sure people, Hinata, would pay good money for the information that âthe kingâ is a desperate fiend for you. Your very own personal pussy hound.
Tobio commands the court, but he melts into the mattress and becomes putty when you have sex.
Your indifferent boyfriend has been begging you all night to sit on his face, and now that you are, you wonder why you didnât do it sooner.
âJesus Tobio, youâre so good at eating pussy â fuck,â you praise, voice slipping into a whine, hips rolling to drag your swollen clit over his velvet tongue. Your fingers tangle in silky black hair and pull until Tobioâs eyes flutter shut with a husky moan.
One of his hands slide from your hip to your ass and he spanks you, grabbing a handful before he moves it down to squeeze the base of his cock.
You keep your heavy lidded gaze on his pretty face, chest rising and falling with choked off gasps the closer you get to cumming. Tobio licks lazily at your pussy, pushing his tongue inside you and then sucking on your clit.
He cracks open his eyes and warm honey rushes through your veins instead of blood. His cotton candy pink cheeks paint him as the perfect picture of pussy drunk between your thighs, whimpering when you yank on his hair.
It doesnât take much more for you to cum with a shiver, then Tobioâs wildly shoving you down his body until his heavy cock is nestled against your pussy.
âBaby please,â Tobio whines, large hands kneading your ass, cool air touching your pussy as he spreads you wide open. âI was good yeah? So let me put my cock inside you.â
âWhy should I? Youâre already about to cum, arenât you Tobio? Just from a little pussy eating.â You canât resist the urge to tease him, tone dripping in condescension and a smirk tugging at your lips.
He glances at the wall with a frown, blush roaring back to life with a vengeance, but the cock twitching between your thighs contradicts his petty actions.
âYouâre gonna cum as soon as you get inside of me.â
Your boyfriend shoots you a halfhearted glare. âNo, Iâm not.â
Tobio, in fact, does cum the instant you sit all the way down on his cock. His voice cracks when he does, a sweet cry of your name falling from his lips.
Lucky for you, he stays rock hard afterwards, and he only looks a little dazed. Tobio flips you both and fucks your pussy raw until he has nothing left to give.
Hellooo i saw your post may i request headcanons of alastor x reader who's opposite to him smiling all the time her face is stoic all the time?? (Fluff)
I think it would be interesting
Smiles
Oh, fun!
I made the reader also have a bit of stoic/ non-responsive, closed off personality. Hope that's okay! Reader is a guest at the hotel btw
A/n part 2: this turned out to be a fully fledged fic lol I'm sorry
I really do feel like he'd take it as a challenge
I mean, he says a smile keeps your enemies guessing and assures you're always in control
But like? A stoic face is impossible to read
He doesn't necessarily think that in this situation you have the control, but he definitely feels like he's lacking it.
He'd definitely try to pull his whole shenanigans about smiling. "You should smile more, my dear." And you just hummed in response.
I mean, he definitely hit a sore spot as people used to tell you that all the time when you were alive, and it was annoying, but you weren't going to respond emotionally since that usually made things worse.
But to him... Just a hum??? No eye roll, no 'shut up and mind your own business'?
You were giving him way too little attention for his own liking. The game was ON
Alastor definitely loved turning everything into a challenge / rivalry. I mean, it's easier to build a connection based on competing and hatred than actual care and teamwork, huh Alastor???
Anywho he'd start scheming.
At first he'd make sure to make as many witty remarks as possible around you. Roasting the other guests a little too hard, mind-fucking Angel with things he cannot even process, getting on Husk's nerves. Alastor is an entertainer after all, so it shouldn't be that hard.
Except it was. You watched, but you didn't seem to really care.
Then he began to make silly jokes. One time he came up to you and asked "What's red and bad for your teeth?" You were half expecting to make a joke about himself, but instead he said "a brick." The others who heard the joke started laughing, but you simply deadpanned at him and blinked.
He was beginning to be irritated.
So he figured, maybe you didn't have the same sense of humour as he did. Maybe you didn't like violence. (Even if he considered that pitiful.)
So... Well... There are other ways to make someone smile. He brought you a cup of coffee. You thanked him. He brought you flowers randomly one day. You looked surprised, looking back between him and the flowers, but your lips didn't curl up. He held doors for you. He bought you gifts, brought you books to read, and even took you out to wine and dine with you. (Normal food.)
To anyone else, it would honestly look like he was courting you. Heavily.
You were also completely torn between thinking he's still trying to get you to smile (you figured it out, you weren't stupid) or maybe... He genuinely liked you. He sure acted like it, but you knew from what others told you that he's not the type.
Eventually, even Alastor grew tired. So he... Resulted to something a bit more manipulative.
He joined everyone for dinner one evening. (I like to imagine sometimes they have shared dinners in a dining hall.) It was unlike him to do so, but everybody welcomed him nonetheless. Everybody ate their fill, chatting about this and that. As you were getting ready to leave, he stopped you.
"I think you have something stuck in your teeth, darling" he said. You placed a hand over your lips in embarrassment. "Hold on. Show me." For your defense, you've grown fond of Alastor, even if he had his antics. So you obliged, showing him your teeth.
"My, my. What a beautiful smile you'd have if you tried, darling." That felt like a kick to the shin. You turned your back to him in a flash.
"You really aren't gonna let up... On this whole smiling business?" You tried to not let your emotions show. But it was goddamn heartbreaking to think all those months he spent with you were because he wanted to prove a goddamn point.
"It's not my fault you have such pretty teeth under those lips, cheri." You grew exasperated, turning around to say something mean to him, but your words got stuck in your throat. "You-"
His face was so close to yours, your noses were almost touching. You could feel the heat of his breath. He was grinning at you, coy and with fake sweetness, eyes bearing into yours. Your breath got stuck in your throat and your heart pounded.
After taking a moment to recollect yourself, you told him bluntly. " I am not going to smile."
"You really think so, my dear? I am not giving up. Not until I make you smile for me. At least once. " Your lips tightened and your jaw clenched. And then you left. Fuck this, fuck him and his teasing and flirting and his pretty face -
Ugh.
You began to distance yourself from Alastor after that. Obviously, since he broke your trust. And a part continued to think that all the kindness coming from him was just a way of guilt tripping you into a smile. But the other part... Wanted to think it was real.
Unbeknownst to you, Alastor was also thinking about you. He was irritated that he couldn't figure you out. A smile to him was just a pleasantry, a social exchange, but you were immovable. More so than the fact that you were winning over him - he's a man of patience and he knows winning takes effort - he was more pissed at the fact that he couldn't understand why he cared so much about it.
He was debating all these things while walking down the gruesome streets of hell, minding his own errands. On the way back to the hotel, he accidentally stumbled upon a litter of abandoned hell kittens. They were skinny, dirty and malnourished. He checked both ways to see if anyone was looking, and with the snap of a finger, he materialized a makeshift shelter for them from sticks and leaves. He couldn't have anyone find out he had a soft spot for vulnerable critters. Then, he also spawned some water and soft food. The kittens wobbled their way to eat immediately. Satisfied, Alastor adjusted his jacket and moved on.
You were in the main room when he entered through the grand doors of the hotel. Sitting there, as calm and emotionless as ever. You were having a soft conversation with another guest, and barely spared Alastor a glance. That, until, your eyes widened. It was the most emotion he'd seen on your face.
"What's with that poor kitten?" You asked, and Alastor looked down at his feet. One of the baby kittens had followed him all the way inside. Now it was pawing at his shoes and meowing.
"It seems the little critter followed me here." You asked more questions. He told you about the kittens. Then, with soft eyes and gentle fingers, you picked up the kitten. It didn't fight you.
"Oh you're so dirty, little baby." You cooed to the kitten. It comically answered you with a meow.
After a whole "Can I keep him? đ„č" Conversation with Charlie, you were allowed to keep him. Alastor was dumbstruck about how the little critter brought out such emotional expressions on your face; and the way your voice whined as you pleaded to Charlie. A kitten was winning over him???
You took your newly adopted baby to your room (where he would reside) to clean him up. He (according to genitalia) was a very tame and loving kitten and did not protest.
A week or so later, you heard a soft knock on your door. Upon allowing them to enter, you saw it was Alastor. You have been busy caring for the kitten, and he hadn't seen you in a while.
"I just wanted to check on our resident rescue." He told you. It was a lie.
The kitten was playing with you on your lap. His ears were a bit too sharp for a normal cat, he had tiny vampire teeth and a tail that looked more devilish than kitten-like. But you didn't care. He was your baby.
"He seems quite energetic!" Alastor exclaimed with exaggerated enthusiasm.
"Yes! He ate well and he's becoming strong and mighty! Right, little buddy?" You baby talked the kitty with sparkles in your eyes and your lips - they were curled into a smile.
You were smiling.
Alastor had won, but it was completely by accident. He chuckled to himself, and it caught your attention.
"Have you named the young lad?" He asked you, sitting down on the bed next to you and the kitten. He carefully offered him a finger and began to play with the soft animal.
"No, not yet."
"How about naming him... Smiles?"
The name should have pissed you off. But it didn't. You continued to smile, and asked the kitten: "Smiles. What do you think about it, pretty baby?" The cat meowed back at you.
"He seems to like it!" Alastor exclaimed, and then came a moment of peace. Your expression was so peaceful and full of warmth. "I also come bearing gifts." He said, and snapped his fingers. A cardboard box appeared, full of cat toys and food for the little guy.
You peered inside and gasped. Then your lips parted and you full on grinned with excitement. "Thank you, Alastor!"
Ba-dum. His cold, dead heart did a flip.
You had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.
And it was directed at him. Only him.
"You are quite welcome, my dear. Thought the little man might enjoy some entertainment!" You continued to beam, rummaging through the contents of the box.
Alastor also reached inside the box to grab a toy and your fingers touched. The world stopped for a second.
He pulled out a dangle toy with feathers and instantly caught the attention of the kitten. Smiles climbed on top of his legs and began to softly smack at the feathers.
You watched Alastor gently play with the kitten and suddenly, your heart forgave him. There was no way in heaven he was doing this to gain a favor. This was genuine.
The next genuine thing that happened is that he wrapped a hand around your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your shoulder clashed into his, and you didn't even manage to register it because his hand softly guided your head to rest on his shoulder. Then, he held you there, hand holding your arm softly, as if he was giving you the option to escape.
"You have the most beautiful smile I've ever seen, cheri." He told you softly. You were flustered beyond belief, but then he landed a soft kiss on top of your hair.
Jsjsnsosksnsmskos????
Your face was red. Your whole existence was red. And worst of all, he tilted your chin up with one finger to look into his eyes.
"Thank you for smiling for me, dear."
The tension was insane. You were both staring at each other like teenagers in love. You bit your lip, and he watched you intently.
Then, he leaned in to kiss you. It was a soft kiss. But it was warm and electric and shook you to the core.
The kitten meowed, catching both of your attention. Alastor grinned.
"Guess we are his parents now." He stated, and still flustered, you nodded.
"If you'd like?" You asked tentatively.
"I'd love to."
And that is the story of how you both began to foster smiles together.
Sentence with double meaning ^
I am sorry for assuming you are a cat person. Hope you like this cuz I really do
ⶠSUMMARY: 7 years later... nightmares, paperwork, and politics blur together not stopping for anybody.
ⶠWARNINGS/TAGS: Character-focused (Reader), Nightmares (abandonment issues), Medication dependence (non-graphic), Forced responsibility, Political pressure, Asmo being the best bestie
ⶠWORDCOUNT: 4,4đ
ⶠNOTE: I've been so focused on this fic I have barely written anything else, my drafts are DRY. pspspsp. next chapter we get voxxyyy (and a musical number?!?)
ⶠPROOFREAD BY: @mingapace and tina <3
MASTERLIST ⶠPLAYLIST ⶠAO3
âMother?â
Your voice echoed down the hallway, swallowed almost immediately by the dark, as though the house itself refused to give it back to you.
Bare feet struck the cold floor in hurried, uneven steps, the sound of skin against stone echoing too loudly in the stillness, each step sharpening the panic already coiling in your chest. The walls felt farther apart than they should have been, stretching endlessly, doors blurring past as you searched with growing desperation.
âMother-â
The word barely left your mouth before you saw her.
She stood at the far end of the hall, framed by shadow, her presence unmistakable even before your mind could catch up with your heart.
Pale hair spilled softly over her shoulders, catching what little light there was, and for a single, fragile moment the world narrowed to nothing but her silhouette. You inhaled sharply and broke into a run, breath hitching as though you feared she might vanish if you moved too slowly.
You collided with her, arms wrapping around her waist as you pressed yourself into her warmth, clutching at her as if the act alone could anchor her in place. She felt real-solid beneath your fingers-and her hand came to rest atop your head, fingers threading gently through your hair with a familiarity that made your chest ache.
âI-I thought you left meâŠâ you murmured into her dress, the words shaking as relief flooded through you, hot and overwhelming.
âIâd never leave you, dear,â she whispered back, her voice smooth and velvety, the sound of it sinking into you like a lullaby you hadnât heard in centuries.
Time seemed to slow, then still entirely, as though the house itself had paused to allow you this mercy. You held onto her without loosening your grip, committing every sensation to memory: the faint scent of roses clinging to her skin, the soft whisper of silk beneath your palms, the familiar fabric of the dress she always wore, the one that made home feel like home.
You closed your eyes, terrified that if you opened them, she would be gone again.
For that brief, stolen moment, you let yourself believe she would stay.
Then she pulled away.
It was subtle at first, a gentle pressure easing your hands from her, the warmth slipping from your grasp like water through your fingers. The absence hit harder than the fear had, your eyes snapping open as panic surged anew.
âMomâŠ?â Your voice wavered. âMom?â
Light suddenly poured into the hallway, harsh and blinding, cutting through the shadows as her hands left your hair entirely.
You reached for her again, fingers scraping against empty air, but before you could take a step forward, something wrapped around your limbs, scratching against your skin. Thorns coiled up your legs and arms, pinning you in place, pressing you back against the floor as the darkness crept higher.
âMOM!â
You screamed her name until your throat burned, until the sound fractured into sobs that tore themselves free against your will.
She stepped away from you slowly, deliberately, her back turning as though she could not- or would not -look at you.
You strained against the thorns, muscles screaming as they tightened their grip, the darkness swallowing more of you with every second, heavy and suffocating. Your cries echoed uselessly through the hall, unanswered, as her figure grew more distant with each step.
âMOM-!â
The word tore itself from your chest one last time as the shadows surged upward, swallowing the light, swallowing her, swallowing everything-
Bzzzzzzt! Bzzzzt! Bzzz-THUNK!
Your fist came down hard on the digital clock beside the bed, the impact sharp enough to send a dull jolt up your arm as the device skidded across the nightstand. The screen went dark immediately, its casing dented inward, a loose coil rattling free and rolling onto the floor with a faint metallic clatter.
âFuckâŠâ you muttered, the word sinking uselessly into the pillow as you pressed your face deeper into the fabric, hoping irrationally that you could suffocate the lingering remnants of the dream along with the sound of your own breathing.
Fourth time in a row.
Same person. Same hallway. Same ending.
You lay there for a moment longer than necessary, staring into the dark through half-lidded eyes, letting the weight of it settle in your chest.
Every time it played out the same way: the frantic searching, the relief so sharp it hurt, the familiar warmth of her presence and then the absence, sudden and absolute, like a limb torn away before you could brace for it.
You were exhausted in a way sleep had long since stopped fixing.
Eventually, you forced yourself upright and slipped free of the covers, wincing as your hand brushed the curtains. You didnât bother opening them. The idea of letting light in felt intrusive, for a few more minutes you preferred the dimness, the illusion that the world could stay paused if you didnât acknowledge it.
You stretched as you crossed toward the bathroom, joints popping quietly with the motion, your tail swaying behind you in a lazy, uncoordinated arc. The mirror greeted you with its usual bloody spiderweb of cracks, you stared at your reflection with a tired grimace.
âSatan⊠I look awful,â you murmured, tugging briefly at the dark circles beneath your eyes as if they might peel away with enough effort.
Cold water splashed against your face moments later, sharp enough to chase the last threads of sleep from your mind, and you leaned heavily against the sink as you brushed your fangs, the motion automatic, practiced, empty of thought.
When you finally spat and rinsed, you reached for the small latch at the side of the mirror and pulled it open, revealing rows of pill bottles stacked haphazardly behind the glass. You picked one up and turned it over in your hand, reading the label without really seeing it.
âI need a higher dosage,â you said quietly, the observation flat and unembellished, as though you were commenting on the weather.
With a resigned sigh, you twisted the cap free, tipped a few into your palm, and swallowed them dry without ceremony, crunching them down like they were part of breakfast rather than a necessity. The bitterness lingered briefly on your tongue before fading into something dull and familiar.
You dressed without much thought afterward, tugging on a hoodie and sweatpants instead of manifesting your usual attire. Comfort mattered, for now, more than presentation.
The halls of the Wrath ringâs castle stretched wide and imposing as you made your way through them. Fire torches lining the walls and casting flickering shadows across jagged teeth motifs and aggressive carving-decorations Satan had personally deemed appropriate. The space felt loud even in silence, its architecture built to intimidate rather than welcome.
You padded into the kitchen like a sulky cat, peering into the refrigerator with little expectation. There was food-plenty of it, but none of it appealed, and you shut the door with a soft thud before settling for a box of cereal instead. It was sweet enough to register as sustenance.
You seated yourself at the smaller kitchen table near the window, spoon clinking quietly against the bowl as you shoveled mouthfuls in, the sugar dulling the edge of your hunger if not your mood.
âYour Highness,â a voice said gently from behind you, âwhat have I told you about sitting at the staff table?â
You turned your head slowly, cheeks bulging slightly with cereal, and blinked at Noxbert, your personal secretary, where he stood near the doorway. His posture was relaxed despite the formality of his words, expression more fond than reprimanding.
âGoof mofing Nohbert!â you mumbled around your food, smiling at his usual morning presence.
Noxbert sighed, more amused than exasperated, and folded his hands neatly in front of himself. âIt would be more proper for you to sit at the grand table, where Sire Satan-â
You swallowed and cut him off gently. âI donât want to.â
The words werenât sharp. Just tired. You turned back to your bowl, stirring the cereal absently as you watched the pieces sink and resurface in the milk. âItâs too large,â
âIt feels less like the room is waiting to swallow me whole.â The thought made your expression tighten. The grand hall, designed to seat hundreds, always left you alone with the echo of your own presence, the silence pressing in until it felt suffocating.
âBut this table is meant for the imps-â
âAm I unwelcome?â you genuinely asked, glancing back at him.
Noxbert paused, then blinked at you, something warm flickering across his expression before he masked it behind professionalism. He bowed slightly, the motion respectful but familiar. âOf course not, Your Highness.â
You flicked your wrist in a small, practiced gesture, shoveling another spoonful into your mouth, and he took the cue immediately.
âAs for your schedule todayâŠâ Noxbert continued smoothly listing off the various meetings you are to be summoned to, his tone attentive despite the faint hesitation at the edge of it, ââŠand Miss Glinda has requested- yet again, a private tea engagement at-â
A loud groan tore itself from your chest before he could finish, your forehead dropping unceremoniously onto the table with a dull thunk! -that sent a small wave of milk sloshing over the rim of your bowl.
âPlease not again,â you groaned into the wood, voice muffled and thoroughly miserable. âThis is the third week in a row sheâs asked me to sit across from her while she chirps about her husband being a complete piece of shit.â
You lifted your head sharply, turning toward Noxbert with dramatic flair, one hand gesturing wildly as your lashes fluttered in exaggerated disbelief. âWhich,â you added pointedly, âis absolutely true- BUT! Sheâs not exactly a saint herself, now is she?â
Noxbert merely nodded, unfazed, clearly recalling the many prior complaints you had aired about the Ars Goetia in question-complaints that had ranged from scathing to downright theatrical. His pen hovered, waiting.
âCancel her,â you declared, already turning back to your cereal as though the matter were settled. âActually, cancel any Goetia who tries to corner me into a meeting, a tea party, or whatever performative nonsense they call diplomacy these days. I genuinely cannot stand them anymore.â
You waved a hand dismissively in the air, as though attempting to physically shoo away the weight of the schedule itself.
Noxbert tapped his pen against the slate, brows knitting slightly as his eyes skimmed the list. âYour Highness,â he said carefully, âsome of these meetings have already been rescheduled three times. I fear they may take offense if I were to delay them again.â
âReschedule them ten times, then,â you replied without missing a beat, lifting both hands to form exaggerated quotation marks. âIf they really have an important issue, they will come themselves instead of arranging tea parties at their houses.â
He sighed quietly, though there was no real disagreement with it, and his pen immediately scratched across the slate, amending plans with practiced efficiency.
Your attention drifted then, pulled toward the window where nestled along the sill, bloomed small clusters of blue flowers-delicate, unassuming, and impossibly vivid against the stone and the black roots that curled around them.
Forget-me-nots.
Your hand curled around a small bundle of them, thumb brushing gently over their petals as your breath softened. For a moment, the noise in your head dulled. A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, bittersweet and fragile, as though it might break if acknowledged too openly.
He hesitated. âWould you like me to cancel the⊠ah⊠âgossip partyâ with Lord Asmodeus today at-â
âNO!â
Your head snapped toward him so fast it nearly took your body with it, the motion sharp and sudden enough to make him flinch. You cleared your throat quickly, regaining composure. âI mean- Ahm- please donât cancel that. That is, quite literally, the best thing that will happen to me this entire month.â
Noxbert stared for a beat, then nodded slowly. âNoted.â
A brief silence settled between you, comfortable and familiar, broken only by the soft scratch of his pen and the quiet hum of the castle around you. Eventually, you rose, setting your bowl and spoon into the sink with a practiced motion before snapping your fingers.
An ember flared to life in your palm, and your staff manifested with it-white and elegant, crowned at the top with a miniature crown from which ruby-like droplets of jeweled blood cascaded into a thorned rose. With a fluid swing of your arm, flame wrapped around you, your casual clothes burning away and reforming into your royal attire in a seamless, practiced display.
Noxbert clapped softly, genuine awe brightening his features, and you bowed toward him with exaggerated grace, indulging his fascination by letting the magic linger just a second longer than necessary.
âI shall go attend the meetings,â you said as your cane clicked against the floor while you passed him. âAnd do make sure Satan doesnât eat my crunchy beel cookies this time. Last time was a tragedy of historic proportions,â you muttered thoughtfully, tapping your chin.
âToodaloo!â you added brightly, swinging your cane and flashing him a thumbs-up as flames swallowed you whole.
When the kitchen finally fell quiet again, Noxbert remained still for a long moment, staring at the space you had vanished from before exhaling slowly.
âI am⊠concerned for Their Highness,â he murmured to no one in particular, already turning back toward the hallway, slate tucked beneath his arm.
The day bled together in a way that made time feel both endless and insubstantial, each hour folding into the next until it was difficult to tell where one responsibility ended and another began.
You moved from chamber to chamber, from hall to hall, escorted through corridors that never seemed to shorten no matter how often you walked them, your presence announced with titles that felt heavier with every repetition.
Meetings stacked atop one another like poorly balanced bricks, each one demanding your attention, your patience, and your composure, and offering very little in return.
You sat through them with a carefully cultivated stillness, your posture regal, your expression neutral, while your mind wandered far beyond the polished tables and velvet-lined seats.
Half the time you found yourself scoffing silently, biting back the urge to roll your eyes as aristocrats postured and postured again, speaking in circles that never quite landed anywhere meaningful.
When no one was looking, you let your gaze drift, tracking the slow crawl of candle wax down gilded holders, counting the cracks in the stone, measuring time by anything other than the voices droning on in front of you.
As the appointed Regent of Pride, it was your duty to attend every one of these gatherings, whether they concerned you or not, whether they were productive or painfully redundant. There was no opting out, no polite refusal, only the unspoken expectation that you would endure.
What made it worse was the way Satan sometimes used your title as a convenient excuse, delegating meetings that should have been his responsibility and dressing it up as a matter of âregency.â You recognized it for what it was: him not wanting to go through the long fucking hours of hearing mindless chitter-chatter.
By the time the last meeting finally adjourned, the air felt stale, your shoulders ached from holding yourself upright for so long, and the sense of being watched-judged, measured, evaluated-clung to you like a second skin.
It wasnât exhaustion that settled in your bones so much as a dull, simmering weariness, the kind that came from: being present without being heard, from existing as a symbol rather than a person.
And as you finally stepped away from the long tables and closed doors, it became painfully clear just how much you needed that gossip party with your bestie.
âAnd then, babe, I told him: âI donât care!ââ Ozzie said, hands moving with practiced care as he smoothed the last of the cooling face mask along your jaw and cheekbones, his tone animated despite the tenderness of the motion. âBecause I genuinely donât. I love my Froggie with my entire heart.â
He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as if the memory alone offended him. âCan you imagine the audacity? Standing there trying to humiliate me in front of the whole Greed ring?â
You purred softly, eyes fluttering shut as you let yourself relax, lips quirking just a little. âWell, itâs Mammon. What did you expect? Heâs notorious for treating people like shit for money. Or rather- specifically imps.â you murmured, deliberately popping the p as you spoke,
Ozzie scoffed, reaching over to gently place cool cucumber slices over your eyes before settling back beside you, the water of the hot tub shifting as the two of you sank deeper into its warmth.
It was a funny sight really, the large Sin of Lust taking care of you, The Regent of Pride, who looked like a cat soaked in rain.
âI hate when people try to drag others down purely out of their benefit. OR use their statusâ he continued, draping an arm along the edge. âLike Froggie should be grateful heâs allowed in the room at all. Meanwhile itâs the other way around!â
You let your head tilt back against the stone, steam curling lazily around the both of you. âThey talk about black bloods like they are temporary fixtures,â you said quietly. âUseful until inconvenient. Then disposable.â
âMm,â Ozzie hummed in agreement. âOr pets. Or decorations. Something cute to point at during galas so they can pretend theyâre progressive.â His voice hardened just slightly. âBut the moment an imp speaks up, or takes space, or-Hell forbid-loves someone above their âstationâ! Suddenly itâs a problem.â
You shifted beside him, water lapping softly against your shoulders. âThey forget,â you added, âthat Hell doesnât run without Hellborns. Imps build it. Maintain itâŠdie for it.â You pause, â And still get called parasites by creatures whoâve never lifted a claw.â
Ozzie snorted. âOh, donât worry, they remember when they need labor. Itâs respect they suddenly develop amnesia over.â
You laughed with him, the sound coming a little too easily, because the alternative was letting the weight of it all sink in too deep.
The laughter lingered, soft and shared, before dissolving into easier conversation as the steam curled lazily around you both.
The water worked its quiet magic, loosening tension you hadnât realized you were carrying, and for a while you let yourselves drift, gossiping about inconsequential things that felt precious precisely because they didnât matter.
Ozzie broke away to grab his phone, eagerly shoving the screen toward you. âOkay, look-look at this one,â he said, grinning as he swiped. There were selfies of him and Froggie pressed close together, silly filters, crooked smiles, moments caught mid-laugh. Then a few photos Froggie clearly hadnât known were being taken, candid and unguarded.
You smiled softly at each one, something warm settling in your chest at the obvious devotion between them.
Pure love, you thought. The kind that would go to war with all of Hell if it meant staying intact.
Ozzie caught your expression and smirked. âSo,â he said, eyebrows bouncing playfully, âwhat about you? Any lovey-dovey shenanigans lately? Or maybe something a little more⊠lust-adjacent?â
You scoffed, reaching out to push him away gently, splashing water toward his chest. âNope. Not even close,â you said. âBeen a little too preoccupied managing Hell. One meeting bleeds into the next, and suddenly the dayâs gone.â
Your grin faltered as you scratched at the back of your neck, the boredom and exhaustion of it all creeping through. âYou know how it is.â you added dryly.
Ozzie hummed, then snapped his fingers. In a flash, an assortment of snacks appeared in the air before settling neatly beside the tub. He grabbed one immediately and tilted his head toward you. âEat.â
You waved him off half-heartedly. âIâm good, Ozzie. Really. Ate plenty today.â
He gave you a look, slow and knowing. âYou either take it,â he said sweetly, âor I feed it to you.â
âIâm serious, I-MHMFP!â
Your protest was cut off by a pig in a blanket being gently but firmly stuffed into your mouth. Ozzie burst out laughing, utterly pleased with himself. âYeah, no. You donât get to talk about endless meetings and then lie to my face about eating. Babe, you are terrible at lying when it comes to this.â
You shot him a glare as you chewed, but it didnât last long. Your eyes lit up as the taste hit, and before you could stop yourself, you reached for another, then another, abandoning all pretense.
âThought so,â he teased.
Then his tone shifted, just slightly, analyzing at the exhausted state of you, the playfulness softening into something more careful. âDo you⊠still take those?â he asked quietly.
The question hit harder than you expected. Your eyes widened, and you choked mid-breath, coughing sharply as panic flared in your chest. Ozzie was beside you, one hand firm against your back, patting and murmuring apologies under his breath, his voice low and steady until your breathing evened out again.
When the coughing subsided, a fragile silence settled between you, thick with things neither of you said aloud.
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and stared down at the water, watching the ripples distort your reflection. âYeah,â you muttered. âThey help. I canât really function without them anymore, it hurts too much.â Your jaw tightened as you swallowed. âThe dosage barely works now, though. I guess Iâve⊠built a tolerance.â
Ozzie didnât interrupt. He just watched you, carefully.
âAnd the nightmares?â he asked after a moment, voice gentle but unyielding. He knew how hard you worked to bury it, how few people you trusted with the truth. But he was your best friend, and he took that role seriously, especially when it came to your mind unraveling quietly under the weight of it all.
âThey come and go,â you admitted, your voice lower now. âSometimes theyâre worse. I get flashbacks of-â You faltered, breath trembling. âThe gala. And⊠them.â
His hand came to your back without hesitation, thumb tracing slow, grounding circles into your skin. You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, then exhaled, just as heâd taught you, steadying yourself before continuing. âBut lately,â you said, quieter still, âitâs been Lilith. Over and over again.â
Ozzie shut his eyes briefly, sympathy flickering across his face. He reached out to ruffle your hair, a familiar, comforting gesture, before offering you a weak smile. âHow about I talk to Belph,â he suggested. âSheâs been working on some nightmare suppressants. Froggie tried them when things got bad, and they actually helped. Maybe they could help you too.â
You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. âI think Iâm too broken for pills to fix anymore.â
âThey wonât fix everything,â he said gently, meeting your gaze. âBut they can dull the edges. And I see what this is doing to you.â
You hesitated, then nodded. âIâd appreciate it.â
He smiled then, softer this time, and pulled you into a warm embrace, holding on just a second longer than usual, as if anchoring you there.
DING!
The sound shattered the moment.
Ozzie stiffened immediately, pulling back as he looked down at his phone.
His eyes widened, pupils narrowing as he read. Without another word, he snatched the device up, water sloshing as he stood abruptly, flicking his wrists to dry himself and summon clothes onto his body.
His movements were fast, erratic, tension crackling around him as his thumbs flew across the screen, sending messages with increasing urgency.
You frowned, unease creeping in as you followed suit, stepping out of the tub and wrapping a bathrobe around yourself.
âOz?â you asked, watching him pace, his expression spiraling from concern into something far darker.
He turned toward you, face tight. âSatan wants to summon the court,â he said. âAll of it. Immediately.â
Your blood ran cold, the warmth from the bath evaporating as dread settled deep in your chest. âWhatâŠ?â you murmured.
âA court hasnât been called since-â You stopped yourself, eyes dropping to the water as your reflection stared back. For a split second, it flickered: yourself crowned in blood and rubies, eyes hollow and merciless- before snapping back to normal.
You lifted your head slowly, heart pounding. âWhy?â
âYou remember the imp I told you about,â Ozzie said, already moving again, firing off more messages. âThe one tangled up with Stolas?â
âYes?â you replied, confusion tightening your voice.
âThey caught him. Him and his crew. Theyâre being put on trial cause of the grimoire.â
The implication landed like a blade. Ozzie continued speaking, words tumbling over each other as he paced. âListen, I have to go-this is bad, and Iâm sorry to cut this short, bae, Iâll make it up to you-â
He turned, hands lifting to conjure a spell, but your hand shot out, gripping his wrist.
He froze.
When he looked back at you, you were no longer dressed casually. Your royal attire had manifested seamlessly, white and crimson catching the dim light, rubies glinting like fresh blood. Your staff rested firmly in your grasp.
âIâm going,â you said.
âWhat?â His eyes widened. âNo, you are not.â
âI am,â you replied calmly, stepping closer. âYou know Satan doesnât care about imps. This trial is a death sentence. And the only person in that room who might have any leverage besides him is me.â
âThe trial is being livestreamed,â Ozzie snapped back, panic bleeding through his composure. âAll of Hell will be watching. Pride included. What if-â
âI donât care.â
The words cut clean and sharp. Time seemed to stall as he stared at you, really looked at you-at the glow of ruby light burning steadily in your eyes, at the unyielding determination etched into your expression.
âIt was bound to happen eventually,â you continued, voice low and absolute. âAt least this way, itâs my choice.â
For a long moment, Ozzie said nothing. Then, slowly, a resigned smile tugged at his lips as he straightened, gesturing for you to go first.
âAfter you, then,â he said quietly, âRegent of Pride.â
Alastor x Lucifer Daughter Reader
MDNI | MATURE THEMES | SMUT | BLOOD | VIOLENCE | SAD TIMES
KIller? I barely KNOW HER! anyways enjoy bye
The tale of the Morningstar family was known to every flickering soul in Hell, passed down through whispered warnings and bitter jokes, carved into graffiti on crumbling stone and spoken in reverent tones by demons who remembered the early days. They knew of Lucifer Morningstar, once the Lightbringer, whose defiance split Heaven itself and whose fall ignited the first flames of Hell. They knew of Lilith, the first woman, who chose exile rather than obedience and walked willingly into the abyss beside him, her crown never bowing even as the ground beneath her burned.
They knew of Charlie Morningstar, the radiant princess with golden hair and hopeful eyes, whose smile seemed impossibly gentle for a realm built on suffering. She spoke of redemption as if it were inevitable, as if Hell were merely misunderstood, and she believedâtruly believedâthat even the most wretched soul deserved kindness, forgiveness, and another chance. To most of Hell, Charlie was a symbol of tomorrow, a fragile light flickering stubbornly in the dark.
But Hell did not know that Charlie was the youngest.
When Lucifer and Lilith were first cast from the heavens, when the sky tore open and the universe itself seemed to recoil at their fall, Lilith had already been with child. The pregnancy endured the violence of exile, the corruption of celestial grace into infernal power, and the birth of a realm forged from screams, ash, and chaos. There were no midwives, no hymns, no soft hands to welcome that child into the world.
Y/N was born to the sound of collapsing stone and wailing souls, beneath a sky that had never known stars.
She did not look like Heaven.
There was no soft glow in her skin, no lingering trace of angelic light. Her features were striking, undeniably beautiful, but sharp in a way that unsettled even demons. Her horns grew early, tall and jagged, curving like broken crowns. Her eyes burned with a deep infernal glow, and shadows clung to her as though they recognized her as their own. From the moment she opened her eyes, she looked like Hell itselfâraw, dangerous, and unforgiving.
She was a mirror of her parentsâ fall.
Lucifer could not look at her without seeing the moment his wings burned, without hearing the echo of Heavenâs gates slamming shut. Lilith could not hold her without remembering the paradise she had left behind, the life she had chosen to abandon. In their firstborn, they did not see innocence or possibility.
They saw consequence.
They saw punishment.
As Y/N grew, there were momentsârare enough to feel accidentalâwhen warmth slipped through the cracks. Lucifer would sometimes pause during long strategy meetings to explain ancient celestial history, his voice distant, his gaze never quite meeting hers. Lilith would rest a hand briefly on her shoulder during court assemblies, the touch formal and fleeting, withdrawn before it could linger. Y/N clung to those moments desperately, memorizing them, replaying them in her mind as proof that she mattered.
But as her powers manifested, as Hell itself seemed to respond to her presence, the distance grew wider.
Her strength surpassed seasoned generals before she had fully grown. Shadows bent instinctively to her will. Her horns lengthened, her aura darkened, and the way her parents looked at her changedâless like concern, more like unease. The warmth faded. The lessons stopped. The touches disappeared.
The only place Y/N was ever truly wanted was on the battlefield.
She became Hellâs first general long before she understood what childhood was supposed to be. Alongside the Seven Sins, she helped carve the foundations of the realm, crushing early uprisings, enforcing order where chaos threatened to swallow everything whole. She built fortifications from obsidian and bone, her hands blistered and bloodied, her body scarred by wars no child should have fought.
The demons and sinners adored her.
They called her the First Princess, the Blade of Hell, the Crownâs Wrath. They bowed when she passed, chanted her name after victories, and painted her image on banners soaked in blood. They loved her fiercely and without reservation.
Y/N would have given every ounce of that devotion for one look of genuine pride from her father.
Then Charlie was born.
Charlie arrived like a miracle Hell had not asked for and did not deserve. Golden light filled the palace when she cried for the first time, soft and warm, completely alien to the realm. Her cheeks were rosy, her hair bright as sunlight, and her presence made Lucifer and Lilith weep openly, their composure shattering in a way Y/N had never seen before.
The palace celebrated for weeks.
Servants sang. Courtiers smiled. Lucifer laughed freely for the first time since the Fall. Lilith held Charlie constantly, whispering promises and endearments she had never spoken aloud to her firstborn.
It became obvious very quickly who the favorite was.
To the world, and eventually to the King and Queen themselves, it felt as though they had only one daughter.
Y/N tried not to resent her.
She tried harder than anyone ever knew. She trained longer, studied deeper, fought smarter. She learned diplomacy, warfare, magic, and statecraft, standing straighter and speaking more carefully, hoping perfection might finally earn her a place she had never been given.
But she was always pushed aside, acknowledged only when useful, forgotten when not.
And yet, she did not hate Charlie.
When Y/N looked at her little sister, she felt only a hollow, aching wonder. Why couldnât I have been born like that? she thought more times than she could count. Why wasnât I enough?
Charlie adored her.
She never feared the horns or the shadows or the claws. She clung to Y/N during court gatherings, proudly calling her âprettyâ and smiling whenever Y/N entered the room. To Charlie, her big sister was strong and safe and wonderful, and the darkness that followed her was something beautiful rather than frightening.
One afternoon, while wandering the high balconies of the castle, Charlie slipped.
The moment her foot slid on the smooth stone, Y/N moved without thinking. She was there in an instant, a blur of shadow and instinct, catching the toddler before she could fall. The impact knocked them both off balance, and as Y/N tightened her grip, her clawsâsharp from battle and never dulled by peaceâgrazed Charlieâs cheek.
The cry that followed was sharp and panicked.
Y/Nâs heart slammed violently in her chest as she gathered Charlie close, her voice trembling despite herself.
âItâs okay, little one. Itâs alright, shh⊠Iâve got you. Iâve got you.â
She rushed to the throne room, fear clawing up her spine.
âMother! Father! Charlieââ
They saw the blood before they saw anything else.
Lucifer surged forward, shoving past Y/N as if she were invisible.
âWhat did you do?!â he roared, his voice echoing through the hall.
âShe was falling!â Y/N gasped, her words tumbling over each other. âI caught herââ
Lilith snatched Charlie into her arms, fury blazing in her eyes as she turned on her eldest.
âShe is your little sister! Why would you do this to her? She has done nothing to you!â
âThe servants werenât watching her!â Y/N protested desperately, her voice cracking. âI saw her fall from the second story!â
Charlie sobbed, clutching Lilithâs robes.
âY-yes, itâs true, Mom, Iââ
âCharlie, youâre a good girl,â Lucifer interrupted gently, his tone softening instantly. His gaze never shifted to Y/N.
âYou donât have to lie on your sisterâs behalf.â
âIt wasnât my fault!â Y/N cried, tears burning her eyes.
âHave you forgotten that youâre the oldest, Y/N?!â Lilith snapped.
âYou take responsibility! Have we taught you nothing?â
Lucifer turned away from her completely.
âLeave. Go check the perimeters.â
âFather⊠Dad,â Y/N said, reaching out, her fingers trembling as they caught his sleeve.
âYou canât believe I would hurt her!â
Lucifer yanked his arm free with a snarl.
âGo!â
Y/N swallowed hard, her chest aching as though something inside it had cracked. She bowed stiffly, every movement rigid with pain.
âYes, my King.â
As she stepped out, the heavy oak doors closing behind her, she paused.
Through the thick wood, she heard their voices soften again, warm and trembling with concern.
âYou have to stay away from her, baby,â Lilith whispered.
âSheâs dangerous. Sheâs not like you.â
The tears Y/N shed that day did not change anything.
Time moved forward the way it always did in Hellâslowly, cruelly, and without mercy. Overpopulation worsened as sinners poured endlessly through the gates, and desperation festered in the streets like an open wound. Entire districts became overcrowded slums, stacked high with bodies and broken promises, and the air grew thick with fear long before the first trumpet ever sounded.
When the Seraphim descended upon the Morningstar castle, they did not come with warmth or reverence. They arrived bathed in blinding light, their wings pristine, their expressions carved from divine certainty. The marble floors cracked beneath their presence, and even the bravest demons bowed instinctively, their bodies remembering an authority older than Hell itself.
Y/N stood at the edge of the throne room, armored and rigid, her jaw tight as she listened.
The angels spoke of balance. Of necessity. Of population control as if they were discussing crops instead of lives. Their voices were calm, almost bored, as they described a yearly purgeâa single day when Exorcists would descend upon Hell to slaughter sinners indiscriminately, cleansing the realm through bloodshed.
âSo you want to kill innocents to help with overpopulation?â Y/Nâs voice cut through the chamber, sharp and ringing. Her eyes flashed, shadows curling at her feet. âWe will not stand for this!â
The Seraphim did not even look at her.
âSILENCE, girl!â Lilith hissed, her voice slicing like a whip.
âBut Motherââ
âDonât you dare,â Lilith said, turning on her eldest with a glare so venomous it felt like the air itself recoiled. âYou will not embarrass this crown.â
Y/N stiffened, her hands curling into fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms. Slowly, painfully, she bowed.
âYes, my Queen.â
Lucifer did not look at her as he addressed the angels.
âWe agree to your deal.â
âHold your tongue now, General,â Lucifer commanded, his voice cold and absolute.
Before Y/N could speak again, the doors opened and Charlie wandered in, her presence instantly shifting the room.
âMom? Dad?â
Lucifer and Lilith turned immediately, their tension melting away as they rushed to her side.
âSweetheart, you shouldnât be here,â Lilith said softly, guiding her away, as if the conversation moments before had never happened.
Y/N stood frozen where she was, watching it all with a hollow ache spreading through her chest.
The first Extermination came like the end of the world.
Trumpets screamed through the sky, their sound ripping through Hell like a wound torn open. Exorcists descended in waves of white and gold, their weapons glowing with holy fire as they cut through streets packed with terrified souls. Y/N watched from the battlements, her stomach twisting as screams echoed endlessly below.
Children ran. Mothers begged. Sinners who had never raised a hand in violence were torn apart simply for existing.
The streets ran red with blood and gold.
By the second year, fear had become a permanent fixture of Hell. Entire neighborhoods barricaded themselves in advance, candles burning in windows as desperate prayers were whispered to gods long gone. Y/N walked among her people in armor dulled by grief, listening to their pleas, their sobs, their anger.
She knelt before the thrones that year, her armor scraped and stained.
âMy Queen, my King,â she said, her voice tight but controlled. âThe citizens are protesting. They are terrified. Please⊠let us find another way.â
Lilith barely glanced at her.
âThank you, General,â she said dismissively. âBut this must be done. We will figure things out soon.â
Soon never came.
By the third year, the protests turned into riots. Entire districts burned not from angelic fire, but from hopelessness. Y/N stood before the throne room once more, her voice hoarse, her eyes darkened by sleepless nights.
âPlease,â she begged openly now, decorum abandoned. âHear my pleas! Let us reconsider! We are losing more of our people every yearâchildren, families, souls who never had a chance! This isnât order. This is slaughter!â
They cast her aside again.
That was the moment something inside Y/N finally broke.
She did not wait for orders.
When the trumpets sounded that year, Y/N donned her armor without permission. She gathered those who were willingârebels, guards, civilians who refused to die quietlyâand led them into the streets. The air crackled with infernal power as she raised wards against holy light, her shadows clashing violently with angelic steel.
They fought back.
They pushed the Exorcists out of entire districts. They saved lives. For the first time since the Exterminations began, Hell did not lie completely helpless beneath Heavenâs blade.
When Y/N returned to the castle, battered and bloodied, she expected anger.
She did not expect hatred.
âTraitor!â Luciferâs shout shook the walls.
Y/N stared at him in disbelief, exhaustion etched deep into her bones.
âWhat was I supposed to do?!â she screamed back, her composure finally shattering. âOur people were crying! Begging! More and more of our people die each and every year, more gruesome than the last⊠I couldnât just stand by and do nothing! How am I the one in the wrong?!â
âYou disobeyed direct orders!â Lilith snapped, stepping down from the dais.
âMother!â
âI am the Queen!â Lilith shouted. âYou will respect me as such!â
âHAVE YOU FORGOTTEN IâM YOUR DAUGHTER TOO?!â
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Lucifer stepped forward, fury blazing.
âDonât talk to your mother like that!â
âOh, now Iâm your daughter?!â Y/N laughed brokenly, tears streaming freely now. âTell me, your Royal Highnesses, when have you ever treated me like one? When have you ever told me you loved meâthat you cared? CAUSE I DONâT REMEMBER SUCH A THING WHEN I WAS SENT TO A BATTLEFIELD!â
âWe raised you!â Lilith argued, her voice cracking.
Lucifer clenched his fists.
âY/N, itâs time you grow up.â
âYou raised me to be a weapon!â Y/N ripped her armor from her body, throwing it to the floor where it clattered violently. âI have been âgrown upâ ever since I learned to walk! While Charlie gets sung lullabies, I trained until my knuckles bled and my bones ached! My own father looks at me like Iâm a sinner! AND WHAT WAS MY SIN?!â
She tore the sword from her back and hurled it at their feet.
âMOTHER? FATHER? WHAT WAS IT?!â
Her voice broke completely as she screamed,
âIT WAS FOR BEING BORN, WASNâT IT?! MY SIN IS BECAUSE I LOOK THIS WAY! ISNâT IT?! TELL ME!â
They flinched.
Lucifer and Lilith flinched. They looked at herâreally looked at herâand they couldn't find an answer. They couldn't look her in the eye.
Y/N let out a hollow, broken laugh. " So Iâm nothing but a reminder of how you fell from grace. Tell me... if I looked just like Charlie, would you have loved me?"
"We do love you, Y/N," Lucifer said, his voice weak.
"We are harder on you because you're the oldest," Lilith added, reaching out a hand she hadn't used to comfort her eldest in decades.
"If that were the case," Y/N whispered, jerking her hand away from her, "you would have looked me in the eye."
They were silent. They wanted to apologize, to tell her she was right, but the words were stuck in their throats. They had failed her for too long to know how to fix it now.
"Fine," Y/N nodded, bowing one last time. "Have it your way, your Majesties."
"Babyâ" Lilith started.
"Forget it. I know now Iâm not a child of this family. I'm nothing but a sin."
She walked out. Outside the door, Charlie stood, clutching her chest. She had heard everything. She wanted to reach out, to say she was sorry for being the favorite, for staying silentâbut she was frozen.
By the fourth year, she led another rebellion. However this rebellion was not sudden. It was not reckless. It was slow, deliberate, and inevitable. She did not declare herself a leader; they had already chosen her. Plans were whispered through alleyways and passed in coded messages. Wards were reforged, stronger than before. Escape routes were carved beneath the city itself.
When the trumpets finally screamed across the sky, Hell did not scatter.
It rose.
The battle was worse than the first. The angels came prepared, furious that their authority had been challenged again. Entire blocks were reduced to rubble. The air burned. Y/N stood at the center of it all, shadows roaring around her as she fought like something born of wrath and sorrow combined, protecting civilians with her own body, screaming orders until her voice was raw.
She saved hundreds, but she couldn't save everyone.
When it was over, when the Exorcists retreated and the smoke cleared, Hell stood woundedâbut alive.
Y/N was summoned to the palace under armed escort. Escorted like she was a traitorous prisoner. The corridors felt narrower than she remembered, the walls heavier, as though the castle itself were holding its breath. She entered the throne room still stained with blood that was not entirely her own.
Lucifer did not shout this time.
âThis ends now,â he said, his voice low, trembling beneath forced control. âYou have gone too far.â
âToo far?â Y/N laughed softly, disbelief hollowing her chest. âI stopped a massacre.â
âYou undermined the crown,â Lilith said her voice trembling but steady. âYou incited another rebellion.â
âI answered one,â Y/N shot back. âYou just refused to hear it.â
Voices rose. Accusations flew. Every old wound tore open again, words sharpened by centuries of neglect and resentment. Y/N finally said what had been coiled in her chest since childhood, what she had never dared to speak aloud.
âYou never wanted me,â she said quietly. âNot really. You needed me. You used me. But you never loved me.â
The silence that followed was thick and awful.
And outside the doors, Charlie heard everything.
She had come looking for her sister the moment word reached her of the second rebellion. She had run through the halls, heart pounding, only to stop short when voices carried through the heavy oak doors. She pressed a hand to her mouth as Y/Nâs words cut through her like a blade.
You never wanted me.
Charlieâs chest tightened painfully. She remembered every time she had been comforted, every lullaby sung, every gentle touchâand every time Y/N had stood alone at the edge of the room. She reached for the door, fingers brushing the wood, wanting desperately to burst in, to scream that it wasnât true, that she loved her, that she had always loved her.
But she froze.
Because she realized something awful.
She had never said it out loud. She rushed into the room to see their parents looking down as her sister knelt.
"My daughter..." Lucifer began.
"I am no daughter," Y/N replied, her eyes empty.
"Please don't do this," Lucifer whispered.
Lilith, with tears in her eyes, spoke the decree. "We have decided to banish you to the outskirts of Hell. You are not allowed in this kingdom."
Y/N said nothing. Lucifer opened a shimmering portal. Y/Nâs followers stepped through first, followed by citizens who believed the crown had lost its way.
Y/N looked at the portal, then at Charlie, who was sobbing, then at her parents.
"I'm sorry," Lilith sobbed. "You left us no choice."
"I doubt it," Y/N said, her gaze hardening into ice. "You don't need to lie. You have been waiting to do this since the day I was born."
Lucifer cried out, "That's not true!"
But Y/N was already stepping into the void. Her final words echoed through the courtyard before the portal snapped shut:
"I wish you never gave me life."
The portal vanished. The courtyard went silent. And from then on, the name of the First Princess was never mentioned in the palace or hell again.
The portal did not simply transport Y/N to the edge of the world; it scorched away the last fragile remnants of the girl who had once lingered outside throne room doors, hoping for a fatherâs approving nod or a motherâs gentle smile. As the shimmering light bearing the Morningstar crest collapsed behind her with a sound like shattering glass, something inside her finally went quiet.
Not peaceâclarity.
She stood in the jagged outskirts of Hell, where the land itself seemed unfinished, torn apart and abandoned. The air was thin and sharp, burning her lungs with every breath, heavy with the stench of ancient sulfur and scorched stone. The ground was cracked and uneven, stretching endlessly into a wasteland of blackened rock, skeletal spires, and ruined terrain that had never known order or mercy. There were no towering citadels here, no banners flying proudly, no streets echoing with life.
This was where Hell sent what it wanted to forget.
She had nothing now. No crown resting on her horns. No castle walls at her back. No royal treasury waiting to fund her survival. There were no servants, no gilded halls, no throne polished by obedience. Only the tattered remnants of her clothes clung to her body, scarred and worn from battleâand behind her stood hundreds of souls who had stepped willingly into exile at her side.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
The demons and sinners who had followed her looked out at the wasteland with varying expressions of disbelief, dread, and quiet terror. Some shifted uneasily, clutching weapons or each other, as though the land itself might rise up and swallow them whole. Others looked to Y/N instead, searching her face for doubt, fear, or regret.
They found none.
Y/N did not feel fear. Fear had been burned out of her long ago, tempered on battlefields and sharpened by rejection. What filled her now was colder, steadierâan intoxicating clarity that settled into her bones like iron. She was done shrinking herself for a family that saw her existence as a stain on their legacy. Done softening her edges to appear less threatening, less infernal. Done allowing herself to be wielded like a blade only to be hidden away when her presence became inconvenient.
She turned slowly to face the crowd.
The wind tore through her hair, snapping her cloak like a war banner, and her eyesâthose demonic eyes her parents had spent centuries refusing to truly seeâignited with a predatory, hellfire glow. They were no longer searching for approval. They were measuring strength.
âHear my words!â Her voice rang out across the wasteland, no longer carrying the weight of a plea or the restraint of duty. It was a commandâraw, absolute, and powerful enough to make the ground beneath their feet tremble. âThey think we will grovel! They think we will crawl back to the gates of the Pentagram and beg for scraps on our bellies like animals!â
A low murmur rippled through the crowd, anger flickering to life like a spark finding dry tinder.
âThey left us here to die,â Y/N continued, her voice cutting sharper with every word, âbecause they expect us to wither without their grace. They believe we are nothing without their crown hovering over our heads! That we cannot survive without them!â
She stepped forward, footsteps crunching against stone, and climbed onto a jagged outcrop of rock, placing herself above themânot just royalty demanding obedience, but as a leader claiming her ground. From there, she looked down at the faces turned toward her, lit by rage, pain, and something dangerously close to hope.
âWe fought the Exorcists while the King hid in his workshop!â she shouted, her shadow stretching unnaturally across the wasteland, twisting and expanding like a living thing. âWe bled in the streets while the Queen sang lullabies behind palace walls! We stood against Heavenâs soldiersâagainst those who wanted us erased from existenceâand they retreated with their tails between their legs like cowardly mutts!â
The response was immediate.
Cheers erupted from the crowd, raw and furious, echoing violently off the cliffs and broken spires. Weapons were raised. Fists slammed into chests. The wasteland rang with voices that had been silenced for far too long.
âThey think we are weak?!â Y/N roared, her horns lengthening slightly as infernal power surged through her veins, the air around her crackling with dark energy. âThey think we wonât survive out here?!â
âNO!â the army bellowed back, the sound thunderous and unified.
âARE WE WEAK?!â she demanded again, her voice tearing through the air like a battle cry.
âNO!â
A sharp, dangerous smirk curved her lips thenâan expression forged of fury and resolve, one that would have made Lucifer himself hesitate. âWe are the ones the Heavens feared,â she said coldly. âAnd they will regret the day they abandoned us. They will regret every sacrifice we made in their name.â
Her gaze lifted, locking onto the distant glow of the city she had once called home, barely visible on the horizon like a cruel reminder of everything she had lost.
âWe will build a kingdom of our own,â Y/N declared, her voice steady and merciless. âBuilt on iron, on blood, and on truth. And when the day comes that they realize they cannot survive without their Generalâwhen they come crawling to us in desperationâI will not be the daughter they discarded.â
Her eyes hardened into something unyielding.
âThey will not find a daughter,â she said quietly, the words cutting deeper than any shout. âThey will find a Sovereign. And I will make them grovel until their knees bleed.â
The roar that followed was deafening.
This was no longer a displaced army. This was the foundation of something vast and unstoppableâan empire born not of divine right, but of survival and fury.
As Y/N began issuing ordersâdirecting scouts to search for water, assigning sentries, marking defensible terrainâher movements were fluid, efficient, lethal. Every step she took reshaped the land beneath her feet, as if the wasteland itself recognized her authority.
She was no longer a Princess cast into exile.
She was the Queen of the Wasteland.
And as she stared into the broken horizon, she welcomed the thought of the day they would need her againâbecause when that day came, she would never kneel, never beg, and never allow herself to be weak for them ever again.
âïœĄđŠč°â§â The age difference is noticeable and often earns disapproval from others. After years of carving out his place in the city, people expect Alastor to choose a partner who reflects his establishment. Your youth and relative inexperience don't fit that expectation. He's aware of his reputation and never pretends otherwise. âIf this unsettles them,â he says mildly, âthat is their discomfort to manage, not ours.â
âïœĄđŠč°â§â Alastor respects your autonomy and delights in the fire you bring to the relationship. âWhat would you like to do?â he asks one evening, genuinely interested in your answer. When you raise an eyebrow, he chuckles softly. âExperience teaches many things, but it does not grant authority over anotherâs life.â
âïœĄđŠč°â§â The relationship is built on mutual admiration, and he stands by it. You admire his composure, wit, and command, of course. In turn, he cherishes your perspective and the way you challenge him. âYou are not an echo of me,â he tells you once. âAnd I would never want you to be.â
âïœĄđŠč°â§â During intimate moments, the age gap manifests itself in his patience. He's never one to rush or assume familiarity. He devotes himself to learning your body and earning your trust. His touch is gentle, meant to reassure rather than overwhelm. Alastor takes pleasure in pleasing you slowly. He worships you at an unhurried pace, allowing comfort to settle naturally between you both. âTell me,â he gasps, positioning your legs apart. âDoes this suit you?â His focus is unwavering.
âïœĄđŠč°â§â Alastor would never treat the age gap as something inherently transactional or sexually gratifying. It's not your youth that captures his interest, but rather, your substance and soul. He offers guidance and protection, never ownership. âI know a thing or two,â he remarks once with an amused smile, âand I would be remiss not to put that knowledge to good use. Oblige me and do the same, would you, Dear?â Count on him to bring out the best in you.
We need to comfort Lucifer/Alastor after what happened to them in s2đ„đ„
LIKE MOVE BICHES IM COMING TO GIVE MY BABIES THE BEST PRINCESS TREATMENT THEY COULD EVER GET
Comforting Luci & Al after s2 đËâ.Ë
a/n đৠabsolute drek but whatever i needed to at least write SOMETHING
warning đৠSFW, headcanons, Alastor being Alastor, short, not proofread at all
Lucifer â.Ë
Initially, coming home and treated his wounds, wrapping bandages around scorched skin, and kissing the bandaid
Heâd usually be really flustered and feel guilty youâre giving this much attention to him, but heâs probably still dazed from literally being electrocuted over and over again, so he just complains about it hurting.
soooooo clingy. Practically glued to your side.
especially if youâre doting on him and giving him special treatment, heâll be so needy even when heâs starting to feel fine.
Itâd actually be hard to give him princess treatment because he never lets you get up.
Just nuzzles into your side further and holds you tighter.
Alastor â.Ë
okay so heâs much more begrudging to letting you help him out. He feels fine â not like he just had what was probably the second biggest fight in his life. Maybe third, he hasnât thought about it.
But heâs very independent and wouldnât much care for doting, swatting your hand away and when your fingers roam attentively over his wounds.
Youâd really have to bargain with him to do anything for him, and occasionally heâd oblige.
Incredibly irritated heâd be like, âFor goodness sake, fine. Clean the blasted cut if youâre going to be so pestilent about it.â
But then his ears twitch downward, and he leans into your subtle touches. itâs nice to have someone actually care every now and then.
âWhile this could be considered a oneshot it's part of >this series< I'm writing so I suggest checking it out since it's connected!
đ TW: self harm
Tags: she/her pronouns, ace!Alastor, ace!reader, both are under the aro umbrella, unbothered queen x psychopath dynamic, reader is a bit of a menace and probably on the autism spectrum, dark topics.
A/N: English is not my first language so forgive my mistakes!
He couldn't find a right word to call you as well as he couldn't understand the expression on your face.
Pity? Commiseration? No- it wasn't that, but whatever it was it irritated him even more.
Before he could think further, you took the knife from your belt, something you always had with you for self defense, and pressed it against the palm of your own hand, and as the scent of your blood filled the room, you put back the knife and stepped towards him.
"Move your hand"
"WÌhÍźÌÌȘÌyÍŠÌ?"
You started at him and gently raised you bloody hand towards him.
It felt like approaching an injured animal.
You seemed harmless. He knew you were harmless. And you were very confident in whatever you wanted to do.
Probably because of that, or maybe because of the scent of your blood, was it always this intoxicating? he decided to move his hand away, leaving him exposed.
His eyes were still black and he was faintly glowing in green.
He didn't say it, but the message was clear.
Do something I don't like and I'm gonna make you wish you would die again.
You moved your hand near is chest, not directly touching him but close enough to feel the warmth of his body.
Then, your blood moved towards the wound with a dim light.
"I don't think it's gonna heal it but maybe it will help with the pain"
The moment your blood touched his wound, an instant relief filled his entire body. He quickly acted as nothing happened but after a few moments, his green glow faded away.
Even so, he felt like he had to take back the lead of the situation.
"And when did you discover this power of yours?"
"Before the extermination. I went to the doomsday district hopping to get better at fighting but instead, I found out about this. Kinda a stupid power in hell but maybe it can be useful for something like this."
"Useless for me to mention that I did not need your help"
"I know"
But he wasn't refusing it.
Your blood alone didn't have the power to heal a wound caused by an angelic weapon, but it was the best painkiller he had till now.
And the scent of your blood was amazing. He ate other deer demons before but never a doe. His morals prevent him from hurting a defenceless woman- but right there and now he could have eat you in one bite.
He wasn't actually considering it tho- he's still a gentleman and you were too valuable and entertaining to be just his midnight snack.
You didn't move till the pain of keeping your hand in the air like that started kicking in. And then as you tried to move away-
He said grabbing your hand and pressing it completely on his chest.
You didn't say anything this time.
You stayed like that for a couple more minutes till he finally let go of it.
He then fixed his shirt while a bandage also appeared on your hand with a green gleam.
He didn't thank you, not that you wanted him too.
"You can leave now"
He had to establish the fact that you were there because he allowed it.
You didn't help him, he used you.
Or at least that's what he tries to make it seem like with those harsh words. Even if he now felt better, his bad mood didn't disappear and he just can't let you think you saw a different side of him, a vulnerable one, from the "persona" he is.
But you don't care what he thinks, you just wanted him to feel better, so you nodded and started walking towards the door.
"When it starts hurting again you can tell me"
He didn't reply, he just waved his hand to say shoo.
As if the radiodemon was ever going to ask for help. You knew you will have to impose yourself again.
But just as you were about to touch the door handle, you remembered.
"Ah, I lied when I said I knew you were here"
You said turning back to him.
"And I also lied when I said I would have told the others"
"And why are you telling me?"
"I don't like lying to you"
He looked at you with a very confused expression before he busted into laughing, not a gentle one, no- what made him laugh was how stupid you could be.
Regardless of that, it was still the most honest laugh you ever heard from him.
"Oh dear, you truly are too pathetically good for our own kind"
He really doesn't get you and for how much he hated it, he loved how entertaining that was.
ââŽïžËïœĄâ
Bonus+
A few times after you lent your help...
"You really are putting a lot of effort to be on my good side"
He said as to make fun of your pathetic attempt while your hand met is chest.
"I already told you I have no reason to do that"
You sighed.
"Beside, I'm also doing this for myself"
"Yourself?"
So he was right, you wanted somethi-
"I hate the smell of smoking and you stink a lot of it lately. I'm reaching the point where I'd be fine with cutting my whole hand away to make you stop"
"Sweetheart, if you say things like that I may start smoking more"
"If you want my hand so much you could just take me to dinner"
It was clearly a sarcastic joke, however, he became quiter after that, but you didn't say anything to tease him about it.
You lifted your head from your husbandâs chest, arching a singular brow, curious as his shoulders shook with a spontaneous bout of laughter.
The sound was soft, genuine, the radio filter behind his voice nowhere to be heard.
A clawed-hand came up to caress one of your ears.
âWhat has gotten into you, you silly man?â You exhaled, heart kickstarting at his touch. âHave I done something to make you laugh?â
The two of you were in the parlor, alone.
Lounging on the couch, listening to the soft pitter-patter of acid rain tapping against the window.
When he calmed down, he cleared his throat.
âNo, no â well, yes, but it was long ago, when we were still alive,â Alastor started. âI asked you what animal youâd be and why, do you remember?â
A contemplative hum reverberated in your chest.
You sifted through the memories of your past life, and though it took a while, you eventually nodded.
A deer, youâd told him. Thatâs what you would be.
âWhy, yes. I said that Iâd be a deer because I love eating,â You giggled, especially as he encouraged you to continue. âAnd staring at things cluelessly."
His clawed-hand relinquished your ear.
Only to drop to your back, fingers skittering down your spine, making your breath audibly hitch.
Alastorâs voice dropped to a sultry whisper, âNow, look at you, ma petite biche,â but his fingers curling around your tail was what had you bleating.
Imagine Waking up to Alastor rubbing his scent all over you so youâll smell like him.
The deep red of the early morning sun seep through the closed curtains in his room, shielding you both from the outside world.
You lie on your back with your hair a mess and your jaw slack, lying in your stomach. Alastor rests on top of you, not sleeping; but nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck.
His ears are pinning back and his little deer-like tail wags back and forth behind him in pleasure. His arms are wrapped around you in uncharacteristic affection. Little fawn like noises emit from him with every brush of his check against your collarbone. Just something about the thought of you smelling like him brought a satisfaction to his chest he never thought possible.
Then it all went awry.
When you first stir, Alastor jumps and quickly scrambles to roll away, nearly falling off the bed in his attempt, and having to grip the bed stand and lie stiff as a board on the bed shortly after having to push himself back on it in the first place.
His face is flushed and ears are pinned, his grin is strained and obviously humiliated as you ask him if he woke you up.
Good thing he was turned away from you, lying on his side with the blanket so tight around him it may just kill him a second time.
â âAl?â.. Did you need something?â
â âNo. Go back to sleep.â
You raise a brow.
â âBut you-â
â âRest woman!-â
As confused as you are, you roll back over to try and sleep. As pleased as Alastor wouldâve been to continue, he couldnât risk getting caught.
On the first day, Toji Fushiguro thought heâd win.
On the second day, Toji Fushiguro felt uncertain.
On the third dayâŠToji Fushiguro knew heâd lose.
Because you were just so evil with your temptations: walking âround the apartment in that lacy matching pair that you knew he was weak for, cooing at him in that sweet, sweet voice that he wanted to shut up with his throbbing length. Aching for you for days now.
Hell- heâd damn near broken the bathroom door with how often heâd locked himself in there, stubbornly standing underneath a cold shower.
And then on the fourth day - oh - it wasnât even those gauzy garments of yours that did it. It wasnât even the way you were sprawled out on your shared bed like the prettiest dessert heâs ever seen. No- it was the one thing thatâd come out of your mouth. Joking. Innocent. âSoâŠis Shiu doing the challenge with you?â
And that did it.
Oh, that fucking did it. Before you can even blink, Tojiâs hoverinâ his large body over yours. Pinning you down with his hips. Rolling his sizeable bulge. Crushing the thick, swollen shaft right between your pussylips where youâre feeling it the most-
âWhatââ Toji rasps out, scorched breaths coming in pants. And his tone makes shivers run down your spine, âWhat did you fucking say, my doll?â
âFuh-fuck.â Youâre gasping, trying to squirm your own body but heâs holding you hostage. Pulling you in. Rutting against you like an animal. Looking up at him, you bat your lashes, âSomething the matter, Toji?â
You can only watch with parted lips as he brings a hand down nâ wraps your drenched panties in his fingers. âYou know whatâs the matter.â He seethes, right before he rip-rip-riiips them straight off of your hips. âYou fucking know whatâs the matter.â
And then Tojiâs bringing your sodden panties up to his damn nose and sniffing-
Darkened eyes rolling to the back of his skull. Erection hardening in his sweatpants. Scarred mouth falling agape. He catches sight of your glisteninâ wet hole and you swear you can pinpoint the exact moment that Tojiâs mouth waters at the sight. Voice breathy. Octaves higher. âYou see, the matter isâŠâ He spits an angry wad on your pussy. â-how I ever thought I could live without her, mama.â
âAre you talking to me orâŠâ Your pussy. You donât even have to finish your sentence, because heâs pressinâ down a thumb onto the gem of his sweatpants - and then you already have your answer.
Heâs pulling his rock-hard cock out in such a frenzy. Such need. So hot nâ heavy that it smacks! down between your pussylips and sends your syrupy slick splattering. The edge of his honed tip perfectly strikes your clit and makes you see starsâhow youâve missed him, too.Â
The angriest red divot on his shaft swirls around a bit, dribblinâ out precum between your swollen folds. It trickles down into your entrance, and you keen- âO-oh, so you werenât-â
âWhy wouldnât I talk to such a pretty pair oâ lips, hm?â Toji grunts. He feels the softness of your folds and is immediately pussydrunk, shivering out. âWho else would I talk to?â
Yet another heavy spank from his shaft.Â
âFuckinâ traitor.â
Youâre just about to open your mouth with something sassy to snap back- when it suddenly clamps shut at the feeling of something so thick and probinâ entering your cunt. Heâs stretching out your slimy orifice so well, letting the smooth crown of his tip slide-slide-sliiiide all the way insideââBut-â Gasping. âBut sheâs not.â
And then heâs feeling you properly wrapped around him for the first time in days.
For the first time in what feels like forever.
And Toji Fushiguro fucking breaksââOh.â His entire powerful body wracks with shivers, every bulging muscle of his rippling. Tojiâs cock throbs between your pussylips, hard and fast. Harder and faster, he ruts - just a sudden, startled jerk of his hips. Like he didnât even realize heâs doing it. âOh.â
And youâre realizing that your normally suave, confidence boyfriend seemed soâŠquiet.
Almost shattered. Almost ruined. Almost pussydrunk alreadyâand, almost cautiously, youâre reaching out one of your hands to place on his panting chest. âBaby, are you alriâoh, fuck.â
Just then, Tojiâs fucking into you like a madman. Like heâs crazed. Gone on your sloppy pussy.Â
With a harsh movement, heâs thwacking! a few inches of his thickened girth inside you. âDo I fucking look alright, doll?â Toji begs of you, and itâs a rhetorical question - one that heâs answering for himself.Â
Because in mere split-seconds, youâre being pummeled with long, hard thrusts. Each tunneling inch of his made it hard for your snug channel to take all of him- âNot when IâŠnot when I- oh.â And then youâre clenching, and Toji throws his head back with a guttural groan. âAh ah, n-none of that.â
One of his hands slithers down to roughly pry your folds apart, thumbing over your clit so that you loosen your muscles for him. And the other? Meanly placed atop your clammy scalp to draaaaag you down his aching cock. âTake it- fuck! Or do you need Shiu to tell you that, too, hm?â
He was just so rude. âOh my, mmm.â Mouth falling agape at the primal sensation, you buck back into him - you donât think youâd ever get used to Tojiâs sheer size. âI didnât m-mean it like that, hck! I was just asking about Shiu because I was ngh- curious about the-â
âAnd look-â Toji guffaws, a sleazy smile stretching across his face. â-ya still have another manâs name in your mouth when Iâm the one fucking you, mama?â
His manhandling grip then moves from your scalp to the headboard above you, so hard that the wooden frame creaks. And Tojiâs using the leverage to thoroughly maze his slimy cocktip deeper inside your walls, âOnly four days-â He spits into your open mouth. â-and my girlâs forgettinâ about me? How sadâŠâ
Babbling away, you grip onto his broad deltoids and claw such red, red lines down his skin. Digging deeper with each piston of his hips, âI meant-â
âBecause she knows that mâgonna fuck you better than any damned Shiu ever fuckinâ could-â Toji grits through a snarl, the bridge of his nose crinkling at the feeling of your clingy walls clenching. Like adhesive. You were dragging him back any time heâs drilling his cock into you.
Tojiâs pointed tip swabs into you with purpose, and heâs finding each tender crevice to open up. To bash into. âBecause she could wait fâme for- for four days. She was the only one to miss me, right, doll?â
âFuck- Toji-â Bawling out, you could feel your brain getting stupider at the rub-a-dub of his winding veins. Finding their way into each nâ every good spotââI donât want Shiu-â
âStill havenât cleaned that mouth out- let me do it for you, mama.â Before you know it, your chinâs being tugged open by one of his calloused hands and Tojiâs spitting a glittery wad straight inside. âThere.â Hips still unstopping. Still trying to fit in. To mold himself to your treacly cunt. âMaybe now mâgonna be the only man those lips will talk aboutâŠlike her.â
Toji doesnât even let you respond to his comment. Doesnât even let you register it.
Not before heâs finally plunging into the back of your pussy with a sluuuuurp, greedily swallowing up all of Tojiâs fat inches - and then the big, bad Toji Fushiguro is cumming.
At just the feeling of your pussy.
At just the feeling of bottoming out.
With a lecherous noise, heâs seeping out heavy wads of his seed against your cervix. You feel the hot globules spray into every nook nâ cranny of your innards, and drip-drip-drip in ribbons to coat your entrance in such a frothy way. Toji drags the knobbly edge of his thumb along the mess, creating the most sinful squelches youâve ever heard in your lifeâ
âSee? Finally, after four days-â He says, over the soundtrack. â-sheâs saying my name.â
⥠NANAMI KENTO - 8 days
Nanami Kentoâs had a bad day.
Well- to be quite honest, heâs had a bad eight days.
Ever since that night you were both in bed, when youâd looked up at him with those irresistible eyes of yours, and informed him in that irresistible voice of yours, about that irresistible trend making the rounds on social media right now.
TheâŠNo Nut November challenge.
Heâd soldiered through the first day, the second, the third, all the way up until a week had passed and Nanami Kento was completely fine. He was completely composed. He was unaffectedâ
He was slamming the door to your cozy house, cornering you in the cute kitchen you were fussing around in. Pressing his large body behind you, Nanami leaned his stern lips over and whispered in your ear. âPanties off.â
Soon enough, you were being eaten on your very kitchen floor.
Through your panties - because your husband had been too impatient to wait for them to come off. One hand tugging aside your sodden garments, the other pinning you down so he could properly glue his tongue to your hole.
You were just so sweet splashinâ all your liquids down his tastebuds, gurgling at the back of his throat, that Nanami Kento honestly felt that he couldâve cum right then and there.
âPlease-â Heâs lifting his head- trying to. Heâs pulling his puckered lips from yours with a few more final smooches, finding it hard to break off that open-mouthed kiss. âPlease- please-â And then Nanami looks up at you with trembling lips, panting. âForgive me- haaaaah, forgive me, but I donât care for that challenge any longer.â Thereâs something primal in his eyes that sends skitters down your spine. âI just want you.â
Badly.
In practically no time, youâre on all fours - still on the frigid tiles of your kitchen. With your cunt drippinâ beads of slick all down your thighs, and Nanamiâs cock pistoning into you wildlyâ
Hard and fast
âForgive me-â He grunts out, a thin line of sweat dripping down his temple. Choppy breaths, even choppier smooches to your textured walls. And the globular edge of his shaft digs against your softest insides, âF-forgive me, my love. But IâŠâ It makes your entire body quiver- but before you can get too far, Nanami wraps his beefy arm around your throat. Reeling you all the way back in. â-I donât think I can possibly go easy on you today.â
Youâre gasping, your arms struggling to hold you up like this. âI-I know, Kento.â With a whimper, you fuck yourself back down his lengthy shaft to appease that ferocious need of his. âYou told me the first time.â
âThe firstâŠâ Oh.Â
He looks through the high window at the darkened sky. Nanamiâs mouth slightly unhinges, spit trickling out at the realization that this wasnât the first round tonight. Noâheâd been fucking you into the kitchen floor for hours now.
Hours and hours.
Pump after pump.
Sticking his geysering divot, making your mouth water all down his biceps with the grazes to your g-spot.
The line of his slit was molded to your soft g-spot by now, and you could feel the familiar pangs of pleasure unfolding at his probing. âI didnât even- hngh.â Realize. âItâs just been too- hah, long. Eight days without you, my beautiful wife.â Heâs pussydrunkenly wiping away the layers of ivory precum stuck to your folds, âI h-havenât cum yet, have I, darling?â
âNot yet.â You respond, slightly struck by the fact that Nanami was so far gone on your pussy that he didnât even know.Â
You, however, had your poor pussy rubbed all sensitive with your multiple orgasms.
Nanami had pulled them out of you one after the other, feverish with need. Thud-thud-thud. Pounding you through each wave of bliss, the creamy tip of his cock swipes down to your cervix and all the way to your womb - as if reminding you that he wasnât done yet.
Youâre trembling at the pressure, your body weakened- only for Nanami Kento to loop an arm underneath your hips and tug you to him. To hold onto you tightly. To support your weight.
âSh-shitââ Nanami grits his teeth so harshly that you can hear them, his chin hooked over the crook of your neck. His entire body shakes as he feels you clench, âAndâŠwould you like me to?â
You tilt your head slightly backwards, âYou want to cum inside, Ken- oh, fuck.â
âShhhh, darling.â He begs against the clammy skin of your throat, open-mouthed. Nanamiâs blond brows furrow, âDonât- donât say such dirty words so easily, youâre gonna make me- ngh, cum.â And you swear you can feel his veiny cock twitch all the way in the deepest depths of your pussy.
Oh.
Oh.
Youâre understanding the pure gravity of the situation. Heâs absolutely flooding out a spurt of precum that clings onto either side of your walls, âSo youâre alright with losing the- hck! challenge, baby?â
âOh, my loveââ Nanami wrenches out something dark from the back of his throat. And you know that heâs never been anything but a gentleman to you, even in bed. You know that heâd never said anything too filthy with that sensible mouth of his. You know that you can feel him grow even thicker, harder against your walls as he spits out- âJust say the word nâ youâre not leaving this room until I fuh-fuck you so full of my cum that mâgonna hafta mop these tiles. And then- and then, mâgonna kill whoever came up with this damn challenge.â
You shiver. It sounded like a promise.
Without thinking, youâre urging your sweaty head up towards his. And Nanami leans down accordingly - he wouldnât miss a single second.
âYes, pleaseââ Whining out, youâre rutting your hips back as if to milk his swollen length. Just imagining his hot arousal filling you up made you bite through the sting of raw overstimulation that was building up. âI w-want it inside, Kento.â
And Nanami doesnât know whether itâs your words, or whether itâs simply the way you kiss him, or whether itâs just been too fucking long - but heâs cumming.
Long and hard.
Head thrown back. Face scrunching up sinfully.
âInside-â The stringy ribbons of his cum decorate your walls, until youâre sure it looks like an absolutely webbed mess inside. âInside inside inside-â All buttered up. With a few squelching thrusts, heâs pounding each milky wad inside of you. âOhââ And Nanami doesnât even seem to realize until the thick sap dribbles out of your hole, drenching his hilt. âIt seems Iâve- oh, lost the challenge, my wife. Forgive me-â
âNo no, I like it, Kento.â Youâre mewling out, and he still isnât slowing down his vicious rams. Skin-on-skin. Until your cunt walls burn with the feeling of his winding veins. âShit, Iâve missed it.â
âYou- you did?â He gasps, and your husband almost wants to ask you why you proposed such a silly challenge anyway then. âThen you should knowâŠâ
And since heâs lost the challenge anyways, then it didnât matter if he refused to let his fat, reddened cock pull out, right? If he simply edged his bawling tip to move against your cervix, still shovelled all the way in as he reaches his meaty thigh over?
The ball of his foot plastering right on top of your sweaty crown- Nanami Kento had his heel pressing down on you while he fucked you from behind.
The crown of his hard shaft flinching with even more droplets of pre, he rasps. â-that we have eight whole days to make up for, my love.â
⥠GETO SUGURU - 16 days
âIt doesnât count as losing No Nut November if I donât actually nut yet, gorgeous.â Geto explains to you patiently, his cock pistoning in and out at a furious pace.
In and out. In and out.
The smooch inches of his shaft pry apart your soppy walls, teasinâ that cute spot of nerves like heâs been doing so these past few weeks. Geto had just a spare few veins, and he rubs them delicately along in just the way he knew would drive you wild. âRight? Riiiight? So sânot my fault if you wanna cum- donât you know that itâs No Nut November?â
Heâs been doing this for ages now.
For sixteen days. Itâs driving you a bit insane.Â
The way that Geto would fuck you until you see stars, and then - right before he was about to cum, right before he was about to stuff your pussy all full the way you wanted to - heâd pull out. Fuck if you were near your orgasm or not, he wouldnât lose.
Honestly, youâd do anything to wipe that smug smirk off of Getoâs handsome face as he did so.
The pretty edges of his lips curve upwards as you start to wriggle, absolutely powerless in his arms. His full nelson. Crying out, âBut- but doesnât that apply only to you, Suguru?â
âWell, thatâs not fair, is it?â He coos, dark brows furrowing in faux-empathy. âAs a couple, weâre in this- hah, together. Through thick and thin, through fucking you raw and No Nut November.â
And before you know it, those slender tips of his fingers find themselves slithering down between the crevice of your legs. He lets them roam over your dewy slit, cracking them open nâ rolling over your throbbing clit. âB-butâŠâ
âB-b-but?â Heâs cooing from behind you, breath hot against your skin. Mockingly, he slides his straight nose bridge down the column of your throat. âSpeak up- I canât hear you over that needy pussy, gorgeous.â
And all you have to do is look up at him through those teary lashes of yours. Fluttering them, you jut your bottom lip out for effect. âBut I want you to ngh- get me pregnant, Sugu.â
And using that cute lilâ nickname of his? Oh, you were absolutely evil.
In nothing but a few sultry seconds, Getoâs shovelling his thick cock all the way to the hilt. And you swear you could feel every little throb he was stretching out your cunt with, molding his need to your walls.Â
You squirm in his arm- to which he reaches over and grips your throat without hesitation. Stopping you from moving. Taking your breath away.Â
And he himself sounded as breathless as ever when heâs whispering, âWhat- what did you sayâŠ?â You were almost too far gone on his roverinâ length to notice that way youâd made Geto Suguru stutter.Â
âI- I said-â Breath hitching, heâs ramming all his hefty inches inside you like he wanted to shut you up. Like he wanted to pound back the words before they even reached your throat- and you could feel Getoâs blushinâ crowned head touch there. âI said I wanted you to get me pregnant- hngh.â
âOh.â Geto gasps, as if heâd just been hit with the full force of the implication. The meaning. âOh, gorgeousââ
And if you thought he couldnât fuck you any meaner, then you were utterly wrong. Because that prolonged shaft of his delves between your pussylips so urgently that you start to feel as if heâs almost rubbing your walls raw.
The velvety length of his cock being squeezed with every thrust- Geto doesnât care if he has to rudely swab apart your walls to do it all over again. Heâs fucking you rough.
Hard. With one hand on your throat to keep you from running, and the other wafted down your core to feel where he was emptying out his translucent pre into. âS-say that again.â Geto demands, âTell me-â
âOnly if youâre- hck! niceââ You whine out, and for that youâre getting a few more aggressive thwacks! of his achingly heavy ballsack against your cunt. You could practically feel the need in them, the way he wouldnât admit it but heâs been dying to cum-
âAnd what if I donât?â Geto bites out.
âThen you donât get to- hah, to cum inside.â You huff, guiding his hand to run down your stomach - right over your womb. âYou donât get to finish- ngh- riiiiight here.â
His head drops down to your neck, âOh, fuck- youâre killinâ me, gorgeous.â Push after push. Pound after poundâthe sopping waterfall of his precum only grows stronger, making your thighs stick together.Â
And you try your very best to innocently shrug, âBut at least youâll win the challenge-â
âFuck the challenge.â
Sixteen days and youâd broken him just like that.
He would fuck you until he was cumming dry if that meant he got to pump a cute lilâ kid inside you- well, heâd do so regardless. But now more than ever, Geto was pinning you to his glissading abs with his pointed chin against your neck to stop that restless squirming.Â
And while he fucks you, he mutters relentlessly in your ear. All the things heâs been wanting to do to you this past November. âBecause mâgonna fuck you the way you deserve, gorgeous. So keep those legs of yours wide open nâ those pretty hips raised, mmm, yeah I know thatâs right.â The slimy tip of his shaft glazes with so many layers of liquid, drippinâ down the sides of his veins and making him twitch. âH-hahâyouâve been waiting for my cum, hm? My girlâs kitty been thirsty for it? I didnât know you wanted me to breed you so badly, gorgeous, fuck- or else I wouldâve done it on day fucking one.â
Your cunt had grown so wet by now that the most sinful slurps emanated after each rut. He swears, âFuuuck, sheâs practically begging me.â
âY-yesââ You keen out, your back arching at the sheer force he was fucking you with. Youâre begging, guiding his hands over the spot where you exactly wanted him. âInside-â
And as Geto dares draw an âXâ where his ruddied tip was pushing into your womb, you babble out. âInside, right there.â
âYes yes, you want it to take, hm?âÂ
âYesââ
âOh, donât worry about me fucking you pregnant, gorgeous-â He snickers out, and you donât think youâve swiped off that smirk of his as you mightâve hoped. In fact, you think that Geto might be smiling even wider. â-because I will fuck you pregnant. Told you weâre- ngh, in this together, hm?â Tapping over your pre-bloated stomach, âAll three of us.â
And then with a few more thrashing strokes, Getoâs emptying out his heavy balls. All up inside you. All those clingy wads being pushed inside by his hips.
âSh-shitââ You snap your head down until your chin hits your chest, feeling the sudden splash! of something sticky from between your legs. There was so much of his voluminous sap built up, and itâs like he was trying to stuff every single ounce of it inside you right this very moment. âHow are you evenâŠthis much?â
You can only watch, mouth gaped in awe. And Geto wastes no sympathy over the way your poor walls were going to take it- no. Heâs just filling and filling you up.Â
Letting it drip-drip-driiiiip all down your legs and to his hilt, âWould ya look at that-â Geto grunts, letting his hand down there slither all over your puffy core. Smearing the ivory mess, he himself pries apart your folds to watch the cum seep out of your hole. And then Geto has the audacity to tut, âLook at you wasting my cum.â
You gawk, âMe?â
But you canât move a single muscle in his arms. âMhmââ He nods, still continuing his ferocious pace- by now, Getoâs entire length was covered in a thin layer of white. âBegginâ me to fuck you pregnant, but mânot even sure it took with the naughty way youâre wasting it, gorgeous.â
Your mouth falls open with a rebuttal- but before you can even think of getting it out, Geto pulls out and pulls you to his whims.
Your back against the bed now. Your legs thrown over his shoulders.
A mating press.
He lines the globular top of his cock with your creamy cunt, falsely sighing. Though he looked elated. âGuess we hafta go for round two, then.â
⥠CHOSO KAMO - 2 days
âPlease, babyâplease.â Choso breathily pants in your ear, and at that moment you swear you could see fucking tears of need in his beautiful brown eyes. Those pink lips of his wobbling ever-so-slightly as he begs, âI promise mânot gonna lose the challenge so can I- can I just put it in?â
This was his last resort.
Ever since Choso had heard about this humanly challenge from you, heâd made his way through the first day with his hands off of you and his body underneath the cold shower, just willing those incessant erections of his to go away.
And then that stopped working.
Then came the panties - youâd woken up to find a few of them missing from your clothes drawers. And Chosoâs hand was wrapped around one of them, pushed up to sniff while he tried to replace it with the urge to fuck your pretty pussy.
And then that stopped working.
So here he was - barely even 48 hours into the No Nut November challenge, and already dry humping you from behind on the bed. Youâre purposefully squirming so that you can feel Chosoâs rock-hard erection, âAlready, Cho?â Stifling a laugh. âI thought you said you were going to last the entire month this time-â
âI will I will-â He insists, still gliding one of his hands down your front - straight into your drenched panties. Choso fucking gasps as he feels just how wet you are down there, âItâs just- I just really wanna feel you, baby. Just to feel.â
âJust?â
âMhmâI think you humans call itâŠâcockwarming?âââ And slowly, sensually, heâs tugginâ that sodden fabric down. Rolling the cutest lilâ hearts over your needy clit, he gets you all wet without even trying. âI promise I wonât cum. Iâve just been missing you soooo much, my baby.â
You let him pry apart your thighs, ready for him to take you from the side. And he can feel it when you doâcan feel that readiness, too.
Because then Chosoâs moving urgently. Heâs moving rapidly. Quick, jerky motions to open you up and urgently sliiiide his split-ended tip between your pussylips. It hits you like a heated kiss, the smooth surface of his cockhead. You whimper, âBut Cho, you know you can cum if you want to, right? Sâjust a silly trend.â
âI know, baby, I know.â He insists, fitting in the angular end of his shaft between those soppy lips of yours. You were already pulsing with need, and his mouth waters at the feeling of it. âBut I promise I wonât-â
âIf you s-say soâŠâ And thatâs the only thing you can manage out before heâs siiiiinking his way inside.
Just the flared top of his shaft, where his mushroomy tip was spreadinâ you wide open. The first taste of your honeyed cunt and Chosoâs gasping, heâs fluttering his dark eyes shut, heâs throwing his head back and groaning as he ruts. âYeah- yeah, mânot gonna cum-â Prattling more to himself, almost. âMânot mânot mânot-â
And heâs gritting his teeth. Fighting against himself not to rut up into youâfailing.
âAre you sure-â Your breath hitches, just the sheer size of him is enough to render your body restless. And youâre pushing back to move against him- when Choso immediately grips your hips and holds you still. If he couldnât control himself, he might as well keep you in check.
And honestly, itâs times like this that youâre reminded about his superhuman strength. Because your beloved boyfriend holds you tight enough to leave nail marks on your skin for days, âI can take it- I can handle it.â He gasps. Dark brows gritting in concentration, Choso sounds as if heâs losing his grip and doesnât know what to do about it. âI promise mânot that weak, baby.â
Just a second thrust, all the way from tip to base- he doesnât even let you get used to his size before taking up every inch of your channel. âAnd mân-not gonna cum. Mânot.â And then you clench and youâre feeling the way his thighs shake from behind, pre splurting out like a faucet. âI promise I just want to feelâŠfuck.â
He shudders.
He breaks.
Your eyes widen, and so do Chosoâs.
Because at that very moment, heâs letting just a singular - a singular - inch of his swollen cock inside and cumming. Just from feeling you.Â
Looooong, miry stripes of seed that cling onto both sides of your walls. Reaching for the very deepest depths of your womb, covering every inch of you with his sappy liquid. âOh, f-fuck.â And the only one more surprised than you by the fact that he orgasmed at the first touch of your pussy- is him. âOh, fuck fuck fuck- I d-didnât mean to-â
âSâokay, babyââ You reassure him, tugging on his sweaty brown bangs in a signal for him to move. And your boyfriend catches on very quickly, bucking his hips into yours ferally.
âBut I only lasted two days, baby?â
âMhm, and sâjust so cute. I like it.â
âYou like it?â Choso probes, pinpointing every tender orifice inside you with his beads of cum. âYou r-really, really like it?â It babbles up all the way near the back of your pussy, where you feel the sappy liquid dribble right out. His sensitive tears hit the curve of your shoulder, âBut I lost No Nut November.â
âMmm, all because you âjust wanted to feel itâ, hm?â But you didnât mind it at all. âSâalright, we can try again next year, you know?â
âAnd until thenâŠâ
âUntil then?â
But Choso doesnât answer you immediately, as he usually would. Instead, heâs mazinâ his thickened tip between your folds again. And again. And again and again andâso many times that your hazy mind is losing count.
And the only thing youâre registering is the way that Chosoâs ounces of cum start flooding deep into the back of your cunt, splashing around with each thrust. âU-until thenââ It was a miracle that Choso could even speak with just how pussydrunk he was right about now. Cumming as soon as he put it in-
âUntil then can IâŠâ And suddenly, youâre feeling the unmistakable feeling of atoms charging up around you - the sensation of cursed energy.
With a gasp, you whip your bleary head behind you to see that that slashed tattoo across Chosoâs nosebride was growing. Zapping with power. And his already-orgasmed cock was growing even harderâheâs making himself go more rounds with his blood manipulation technique.
So hard that he was fit to burst. With his blushing red tip pumping furiously in and out of you- he fucks in with a squelch. âUntil then, maybe we can practice, baby?â
⥠RYOMEN SUKUNA - 49 hours
You didnât expect that Ryomen Sukuna would barely last two days.
You didnât expect that Ryomen Sukuna would declare that while No Nut November applied to him, it didnât technically apply to you. He couldnât make himself cum, but he could make you cum.
You didnât expect that Ryomen Sukuna would have you straddlinâ his thick hips, with your pussylips spread all wide open for his second tongue to slither intoâyes, his second tongue. That garish smile slashed across his chiselled core, now drooling with so much slick nâ saliva with the way you were riding that cursed mouth.
âAh ah-â Sukuna spanks one of his four hands down on the right side of your ass whenever you showed any signs of slowing down. And he has the audacity to let both of his mean mouths snicker at the way you squirm. âNâ who said you can tap out, brat?â
Youâre quivering like a leaf at the feeling of his prolonged tastebuds entering and reeling back from your cunt at rapidfire speed. âI didnâtâŠI wasnât going to-â
âBecause it sure wasnât me.â The King meanly interrupts, he raises a pink brow as he looks at his gaped second mouth. âWas it you?âÂ
And whatever sultry noises that are fucked out from between your legs is enough of an answer for Sukuna, because heâs nodding like he completely understood. âMmm, thought so.â Before bucking his ripped core slightly to make his curling tongue slip in even deeper. âThenâŠwas it you?â
For a second, you almost think heâs talking to you - almost. Before you see the way that Sukuna eyes the glistening crevice of your cunt, and then youâre shuddering.
Such sloppy slurps. Even better when he spits, âGood girl.â And actually spits into your heated core, letting the glittering wad of his saliva slip between your folds and get pounded inside by his tongue. âSo it wasnât you, either- hah.âÂ
âP-please-â
Sukuna pretends to tap the edge of his chin with one set of fingers, âSo hmmmâŠwho was it that told you to slow down, ma? Take a quick lilâ break?â
Youâre pouting as you huff, âNobody.â And before he can hiss out something even meaner - oh, you were going to pay for cutting off the King of Curses mid-declaration - you whine out. âBut thatâs only because I want you to fuck me- ngh, properly, Kuna.â
At this, his feral hips jut upwards like he couldnât even control them. Like he was trying to fuck you the way he- you, wanted him to.Â
Properly.Â
âProperly? Tch- first yer giving me orders nâ then you have the audacity to call your king by that silly nickname?â He growls out, something else primal rumbling in his tone. It earns you a few more spanks on your ass. âI should banish you for this treason, woman.â
âBut Kunaââ You grip onto his shoulders, balancing yourself slightly. You blink your lashes at him tearily, âAre you just scared-â
âS-scared?â Sukuna gapes, and even his cursed mouth sputters. âYou believe that I am scared?â
You half-shrug, âWell, if the shoe fitsâŠâ
âI refuse to let the shoe fit, brat- I refuse!â Sukuna snarls out, jostling your body in his heavy hands. He was tugging you to pliably remove your cunt from his monstrous tongueâwith a damp plop! And youâre finding yourself draped atop his muscular front, âCome- come and fuck me like you want to, if yer that damn brave then.â
His deep baritone hitches. Thereâs a blush creeping up his ears.
And you already know that youâve won.
âBut Kunaââ You enunciate on the nickname, knowing that it has his twin cocks twitching at the tone. âIâm not the one with the challenge, I want you to fuck me.â You lean in, so that his sensitive ears can feel your scorching breath. âHard.â
With a shiver, one of his hands dazedly moves to cup both thick hilts of his. âHard.â Sukuna repeats after you, almost like a prayer. And he swirls his hot tips âround your tight orifice, âHard.â
And then youâre gritting your teeth hard, because heâs pushing in not just one- but both of his massive mushroom tips inside. Theyâre just so big that youâre having trouble getting used to the sheer size, stretch-stretch-stretching your hole so wide open.
You almost feel as if youâre being molded to all the winding veins that decorate both his shafts, fitting into every tender orifice. âOh- oh my god-â Gaping. âHoly shit, I almost forgot how big you were-â
âIf you donât shut that pretty mouth this very second- then mâgonna cum, ma.â Sukuna grits out, his teeth clenched tightly at the velvety feeling of your cunt. Your folds were parting like silk for him, and they were gobbling him up ravenously. So eager to be filled.Â
Grinning, âAnd I donât see the problem in thatââ You bounce your hips down even deeper, not only were you trying to fit him inside- but you were trying to ride him, too.
âWhat? And have the King fail after only two fuckinâ days?â He bites, âYou fucking wish.â
âOh, I do.â And without any warning, youâre cooing down at that second mouth of his - the one that was still stirrinâ his sultry tastebuds all down your slit again. From your clit and down to your hole, trying to probe inside because, oh, how he missed tasting you. Just loud enough, âAnd thatâs why if you cum right now, then Iâll ride that tongue of yours- hngh, again, Kunaââ
âThatâs- thatâs fucking unfair- oh.â And Ryomen Sukuna has no idea whether itâs simply because of your words, simply because heâs been deprived of your sweetly dripping cunt for so long now, simply because you found a way to control his body like none other - but heâs cumming.
Long and hot and hard.
Two jetstreams of seed spurt right near the back of your pussy, and with gravity you can feel the way it sploshes right back down your walls. Before his swabbinâ tips swirl those webs back inside, they stamp his wide circumferences all the way on your cervix.
Rotund circles of white. The sensation of him filling you up feels like no other, because there was just so much of it - both of his heavy cocks throb as they empty out. âF-fuck.â Youâre smirking, âYou lost in less than three- hah, three days-â
Shut up by his own snaking tongue, so long that his tastebuds plaster from your clit to the deepest depths of your walls. Prying aside. He lets pearly droplets of seed drip down the middle of his tongue, âShush, ma.â
And you could have sworn that the rough nâ tough Ryomen Sukuna whimpered at the very end of that rebuttal.
But before you could think about it too much, youâre being spearheaded by some of the roughest thrusts youâve ever encountered- Sukunaâs chiselled v-line gluing to your front, his pinkish happy trail scraping your clit.
And itâs only then that youâre realizing that youâd made Sukuna cum without even fully bottoming outâslam after slam. Only when youâre too cockdrunk on his vulgar strokes does he think to babble, just above the constant squelching of his cum stirring around you.
âDonâtâŠdonât tell anyone in the estate or you donât get to ride my tongue.â
⥠INO TAKUMA - 3 days
He thought he was in control.
He thought he could stuff his fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt and not be affected (after all, it wasnât like he would lose No Nut November because of something like that, would he?)
He thought.
Right now, Ino Takuma wasnât thinking anymore. The probinâ ends of his fingertips stick straight into your g-spot, and you find yourself throwing your head back as you cum. Whines breathy. Body shivering. Eyes half-shuttered to find-
To find that your poor, loving boyfriend had cum, too.
Just from fingering you.
âTaku- oh. Taku, whatâs this?â Youâre babbling, just as soon as youâre able to catch your ragged pants. Seated atop his lap, you reach over to where a dark stain had started to form on Inoâs boxers. âDonât tell me youâve-â
âFuck-â He looks down. Realizing. âFuck.â
And right then, he searches for something to cover- but youâre swatting away his hands instantly. âAw, câmon, thereâs nothing to be shy about.â
âSânot that Iâm shy itâs just that- fuck!â He throws his hands up into his hair, and fidgets with the dark ski mask that was still atop his clammy head. âI just didnât think Iâd be losing so easily, pretty- fuck, I shouldâve known, with such a cute cunt that I was bound toâŠâ
As Ino trails off, you wait patiently.
He still has that orgasm-hazed look in his eyes, something primal. But the only thing the man does is stare ravenously down at your drippinâ wet cunt. The only thing he does is let his mouth water, cock twitching in his pants all over again at the mere sight of your glistening hole-
ââŠFuck it.â
In split-seconds, Inoâs tugging down his soaked boxers. He displays a creamy puddle of sap that leaves his skin glistening- and yours, too. After your boyfriend pulls your body down to straddle his slender hips, starting to delve his puckered tip right between your folds.
It drips all over. It smears.
âFuck-â He breathes out, heaving pants. Youâre only watching in pure awe at the way that Inoâs pupils roll to the back of his skull, tawny lashes fluttering all the way. âOhhhh, fuck. We canât waste a single drop of this now, can we, sweetness?â
Shaking your head stupidly, youâre just drunk on the pressurized feeling of his circumference bullying apart your cunt folds. âToo true.â Scraping your hands towards the clammy back of his throat, you play with the chocolate curls there- and his length jolts. âAnd about No Nut November?â
âFuck No Nut November.â Ino insists, rutting his hips into yours animalistically. He isnât even waiting for you to get used to his size, isnât even waiting for that slight resistance of your elastic orifice to bate before pushing and pushing. âSweetness, if mâgonna cum then itâs gonna be fucking inside.â
And he was pounding up into you like it, too.
âEvery single drop I cum is for- hah, for you. Every. Single. Drop.â He murmurs, pearly whites sinking into his bottom lip to stop his words from sounding too much like a whine. âSo take it like it.â
Just rapid, urgent thrusts. He was fucking your soft walls in, in, inâhe wasnât even letting you get too far with that resistant elastic of your muscles. As soon as Ino starts to feel your tight orifice closing up instinctually at the size, he grabs your throat and slams you right back down his length.
Your back arches with a keen, âOh-â The slightest squeals leave your mouth every time his flared tip scrapes the roof of your cunt, directly targeting your g-spot. âOh my god- youâre being so r-rough, Taku.â
âDidnât expect me to be all nice after three fucking days, did you?â Thereâs slight disbelief in the way he says it. And his tone- oh, you feel shivers run down your spine. âDonât be silly, pretty.â
Slurping, his dewy fingerpads trace down your slit to press on your throbbing nub like a button. âI fucking orgasmed just from fingering you.â He explains, slightly wavering. Slightly gone. âThree.â Ino repeats. âThree daysâŠâ
And to him, it was a wonder he even lasted this long.
Any longer and he might just have cum from the feeling of you kissing him- wait.
Dazedly, youâre reaching your upper body down to crash your spit-slicked lips onto his. And you can swear that you feel his pearly droplets of cum sink into your cervix all over again, splashing. âSweetness, itâs a fuckinâ wonder that mânot breaking you right about now.â You and your pussy.
âMmm, sure feels like it.â Absolutely ruining you from the inside out. Mewling, you grab onto his shoulders for purchase - only for Ino to grab both your wrists in one of his hands. Heâs then pinning them behind your back, leaving your weight supported only by him as he pumps his girth inside. All red hot and blushing. âIf you wanted it that badly, then why didnât you, baby?â
âWell, I wanted to win- hngh, No Nut November, didnât I?â Ino stubbornly says, and you swear you catch the way his lower lip wobbles with desperation. âBut no- this is more important.âÂ
He holds you tightly to him, with your chin nâ your sploshing mouth leaking a sheen all over his pecs. And such squelching noises emanate from between your legs, the sound of his cum dripping out of you. He has to speak over it, âThis is so much, ngh- better.â
Almost as if he couldnât believe it himself. His winding veins glide down your walls, and fit perfectly into the tiniest orifices of your cunt.Â
You spread your legs just a bit wider to let a few ribbons of miry cum slip out, âSo much l-louder, too.â
âNgh, fuck.â Ino spits out - and then you see the exact moment that Inoâs brown brows raise. Slightly. You see the exact moment that his puffy lips part. You see the exact moment that the epiphany hits him-
âDoes it still count as a nut if mâjust using it to breed you, sweetness?â
⥠GOJO SATORU - 0.31415 seconds
The Strongest was the one with the bright idea to finally beat No Nut November once and for all.Â
His great idea? If he started fucking his gorgeous, gorgeous wife (you) all silly before and during November 1st, then he could beat the system and there was no chance of him losing! Did you see the vision? No, not quite.
But he did. And Gojo was known for his Six Eyes, so he went right along with his plan.
Which is why you were currently being pinned down by Gojoâs ferocious hips, pushing you into the living room couch. For what feels like hours now - and his body was showing the effects, too. His breaths were choppy. Skin flushed. Cock probing. His eyes glance through those shaggy white bangs of his and towards the ticking clock on the walls. âOnly a few more- hah, a few more minutes until midnight, sweetheart.â
âSatoru, I still donât see what you- hngh, mean.â Youâre calling out in your whiny tone- and Gojo immediately had a hand clasped at your throat to shut you up.
His crescent-shaped fingernails dig into the side of your neck, and you ogle that way that Gojoâs beefy biceps bulge as he tightens his holdâjust to stop those pretty noises of yours from making him cum earlier, he said. âOh, honey, do I hafta explain our game plan to you again?â
âOh, pleaseâŠâ
âLet me-â He immediately gasps out, giving a sultry spank on that pussy of yours in punishment.
Youâre shivering when his roughened thumb rolls over your clit, he lets the flat of his digit draw the cutest lilâ hearts over that nub. And then his last name. âSo, sweetheart, if Iâve been fuckinâ you since before 12AM when November starts.â
âMhmââ You babble, squirming.Â
âAnd so- when mâcumming, Iâve gotta start cumming right before 12AM.â Gojo nods fervently, his soft strands shaking as he does so. It made perfect science to him. âSo then technically, itâd count as- hck! cumming on October 31st instead of cumming on November 1st.â
âAnd you couldnât do it normally - just not cum for November, like every other guy - because why?â Sobbing out, you feel his plumpened tip thump into your throat.
Again and again and again. Gojo looks at the expression on your face, and he fattens up his girth even further. So thick that heâs stretchinâ on your velvety walls, molding the zig-zagged lines of his veins to your channel.Â
Proudly, he looks at what heâs doing to you - the mess heâs making between your legs. And then he straightens, pale body flexing in the moonlight. âBecause you married the strongest, my wife.â
And hes fucking you like it, too.
Long, hard thrusts that dive deep into your cervix. Probe after probe. With his widened circumference, he leaves a bruise at that spongy layer in the shape of his plump tip. Several. âAnd weâre close- so fucking close.â Gojoâs hazy blue peripherals alternate between the clock, to your face, to your glistening cunt - being stretched on his languid cock. âItâs 11:57PM, just a bit longer, mâkay?â
âToru, youâve been saying that for what feels like- like hours.â That earns you a few more spanks- thwack-thwack-thwack. He did get particularly hard at impact play, with his fingers stinging on your skin. Infinity taken down.
âAnd donât you worry, my wife-â Gojo pants through his clenched teeth. â-donât you worry âbout a thing, only a few minutes more. Mânot gonna make us fail the challenge.â
âBoth of us?â Youâre weeping, feeling his cock slip into your orifice at a maddening pace. His vein-covered shaft was perfect for pulsing against your g-spot. You had half the mind to wonder whether he was using his damned Six Eyes to search for that particular treasure trove, bashing it so accurately each time.
âMhmmmââ Gojo cockily spanks down on your pussy again, this time letting the electric zaps of his jujutsu send vibrations up your spine. âSo you just hafta sit there and take it- with those legs spread allll wide open for me, yeah, just like that.â
Your back arches into the perfect curvature against the sofa, itâs like he was impaling you with all his prolonged length. âAnd what if- what if this master plan of yours doesnât work?â
âNah, Iâd win.â
Push after push.
Probe after probe.
Itâs the last thing youâre hearing before your eardrums pop with pressure, and suddenly youâre hurtling straight into your high. âI-Iâmââ Unable to even speak with the sheer white-hot pleasure that bubbles up in your veins, it runs all the way from your curled toes to the airy top of your head.
âCumming, I know.â Gojo finishes off for you, his eyes flitting to the clock for the nth time tonight. He breezily fucks you through your high, and the textured ridges of his cock were just perfect to graze your sweetest spots.Â
He feels his own orgasm getting closer, and Gojoâs head throws back. âJust a little longer for me, too.â Body moving before his brain, itâs like heâs squeezing his cock between your folds on almost carnal instinct. âJust a little- just a minute longer- if I can last aâŠâ
âBut, Satoru, I want you to cum inside me now.â You whine, your lower lip jutting out in a pout for effect. You run your hands through his ivory hair, knowing thatâs where he was weak. âPlease?â
His pink, spit-slicked lips part. âBut- but, sweetheart, the timeâŠâ
âToru, I donât care about the timeââ Youâre rutting your body up to meet his, and it glissades perfectly down his chiselled abs. âJust want you to cum inside.â You run your hand down your front, and it stops right above where his crowned shaft ended, poking you with each jackhammer. âFill me up r-right here? Maybe we can get a cute lilâ kid out of it.â
And thatâs when the Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer of all time, halts.
When his hips stutter. When he jerks his sloppy cock into your warm depths- and then heâs properly moving on primal instinct for a few more strokes.Â
Eyes bulging. Lips parted. Voice pitched high in disbeliefââI-inside. A cute lilâ kid.â And he sounds almost as if heâs been pushed to the edge of insanity whilst he repeats what you said. âYou want me toâŠyou wantâŠâ
âYes-â Like a mantra, you risk a look behind at the clock yourself. âBut youâre gonna hafta cum soon, Toru, if you donât wanna miss-â
âYou want me to fuck you w-with my kid- to bear my child- my heir.â Repeating it underneath his breath, over and over again. You feel the words depart against your face every time he delves into your pussy, âMy heir. My heir. My heir-â
âFuck, Toru.â Your nails dig into the muscles on his back, âCum inside me.â You donât know whether your sense of urgency was because of the timing, or the way he was pounding into you. âInside- i-inside-â
âMy-â And with a few more vulgar strokes, he places a hand on top of your core. Pressing down. â-heir. Gonna be right here- r-right here, sweetheart.â
âYes, pleaseâŠâ
In practically no time, youâre feeling the intensity of your second orgasm - and his.Â
Warmth floods your entire being, energy thrumming through your body and it seems to charge in the air around you. Something sparks from Gojoâs powerful body, whizzing past with every hot stream heâs emptying out into your cunt.Â
Pouring out like a flood. Splat-splat-splat. The ring of white glistens âround your entrance, and beads out every time heâs pulling out to push the wads back in. âRight on time, my girl.â He finishes off proudly, lightning bolts of blue crackling at the corners of his eyes.Â
They allow your husband to pinpoint the highs of your orgasm, the peaks of your bliss. With each one, he thoroughly scours your walls and hits your g-spot precisely. âRight onâŠf-fuck.â
That didnât sound like an exclamation of triumph.Â
And you can only watch in slight awe as he reaches a strong arm out- the clock on the wall suddenly darts to his palm, moved by his powers. A thin layer of blue coats the device as Gojoâs powers work through it.
And the clock starts ticking again.
â0.31415 seconds after midnight.â He squints his sensitive eyes down at the clock face, tone final. It seems that itâd stopped working because of an overload of his cursed energy, billowing out in uncontrollable waves at the feeling of your soft cunt. âWeâve lost No Nut November.â
âOh, shit.â You gasp.
âYour pussy was just too good, sweetheart.â Gojo sighs, setting down the clock and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. Expression grim. Eyes shadowed.
Before you can say another word, his arm reaches out again- except, this time, itâs raised in the direction of your shared bedroom. And what whizzes into his hand isnât a clock - not even close.
Itâs that wooden paddle you always hid underneath your bed.
He traces the flat, frigid material along the skin of your clit- tapping slightly. And then down to the side of your hips, tap-tap-tapping. âWhat- to- doâŠâ
⥠HIGURUMA HIROMI - 30 days
To your immense surprise, Higuruma was the one that was disciplined.
Calm. Composed. Challenging your temptations as you dallied âround the house in his favorite lingerie set, as you sidled up in those skimpy things every night, as you undid his tie after a long day in court whilst whispering such dirty things in his ears.
Dirty, dirty things that you wanted him to do to you.
And yet, none of it seemed to have any effect.Â
Sure, heâd fingered you till you squirted, and eaten you out more times than you could count. But honestly, it had slowly edged towards the end of the month and you were now damn sure that Higuruma would get through it unscathed.
Un-cumming.
That isâŠuntil the final day of No Nut November. It was deep into the night, and you were sprawled out on your bed, waiting for your husband to finish up with a last-minute work call before you two stepped out for a romantic dinner.
And since you didnât want your elegant outfit to get crinkled, youâd found yourself rustling through your shared closet.
Flipping through a few raggedly old t-shirts before you stopped on oneâŠHigurumaâs suit jacket.
The very same one he wore to his court cases every day. The very same one that looked so snugly attractive on him, emphasizing his slim waist and that broad chest. Oh.
Unthinkingly, youâd taken it off the hanger with the intention of wearing it for now - just as you waited - and ironing it later before he had to actually use it. A win-win. A no-brainer. And when Higuruma walked back into the room after finishing up his call, you didnât expect anything less than a subtle nod of acknowledgement.Â
You certainly didnât expect him to take one look at you and- fuck, suddenly you found yourself at the edge of your king-sized bed. Your back against the mattress. Your legs on his muscular shoulders.
Heâd juuuust swiped aside your panties at the whine of your gown getting wrinkled. His red, swollen cock burrowing into you and all the way back out. In and out. In and out. In and outâhis vein-covered shaft was rubbinâ against your walls at a feverish pace, until the intrusion between your legs looked like nothing more than a blur.
It didnât seem like youâd be making your reservation any time soon.
In and out in and out- âSh-shit, Hiromi. Whatâs gotten into you all of a sudden?â Youâre crying out, feeling his thumping tip swipe damn near your lungs.
All this month, he hadnât done anything like this.Â
âJust wanted to- you looked soâŠso sweet, sugar.â Higuruma grunts out, through the smacks of skin-on-skin. âSo beautiful tonight.â
Gasping, âItâs because of the jacket, isnât it?â
âJacket?â A few more probes, he somehow manages to map out every inch of your cunt so well. Until the geysering divot in the middle of his shaft finds itself dripping against your tender spots. âWh-what jacket?â
He stuttered.
âSo it is the jacketângh.â In punishment, heâs accelerating his hips until the skin âround Higurumaâs pelvis burns bright red. Harder. Harder.
Again and again, heâs sliding his shaft in and out of you as if making up for this entire month. All those days and long, long nights that he wasnât able to- and soon enough, you find yourself drooling at the feeling of his veiny length massaging you. You narrow your eyes, aware that he was getting you purposefully cockdrunk.
âI didnât say thatâyou have no evidence, angel.â Your husband pants out, his breath scalding against your features. âIn most cases, sânot fair to make any conclusions with absolutely no- hngh, evidence, until then sâjust allegations.â
He always knew how wet you got whenever Higuruma talked all lawyer-like to you. And you knew how thickly hard he got whenever you bit backâ
âMy evidence isâŠâ Moving as if you were about to remove that jacket of his-
Itâs just the slightest movement, the barest tug on that fabric, that gets you pinned down to the bed with a hand at your throat. Higurumaâs other hand pinning both your wrists together. And with them held together, he angles his hips juuuust right so that his tufted happy trail scrapes your puffy clit.
Fucking you furiously, he spits between snarled teethâvoice deep, dark eyes alert. âDonât you dare take that jacket off, angel.â
â-that.â You finish off, âThat is my evidence. And I rest my case.â
âDirty girl. I love when you talk like th-that.â Higuruma growls, and you feel his tip twitch in excitement. âGod, I love you- love how youâre my fuckinâ wife.â
âAnd you know what else- haaaah, that mâsure youâre gonna love?â You ask, making his eyebrows raise in question. At this, you tug him in by the smart tie of his outfit- the part that he still had on. Whispering in his ear, âRound two. Missing the dinner.â
His fucked-out expression looked like he was just handed the keys to the gates of heavenââOh, sugar, donât start something you canât finishââ
âWith me in this jacketâŠand nothing else.â
And in practically no time, Higuruma was letting go of the hold he had on himself. In a second heâs snapping- and bursting into white-hot globules of cum that line every inch of your cunt. The girth of Higurumaâs cock smears those wads inside you, painting a layer of white on his prolonged length.
Which he looks down and hisses at- looking at the clock: 11:50PM. It was still November, and he had failed the challenge.
But that didnât mean that Higuruma was going to let you off easy - no, quite the opposite, in fact. His dominant hand is on you instantly, rubbing several fingertips over your perky clit. He counts the throbbing of your pulse through your nub, and gets to about five before youâre cumming, too.
Hard and fast.
Just like the way he was fucking you through it. The zig-zagging lines of his shaft massaging your sweetest spots, you could feel him splosh âround the slick nâ seed inside of you. It dribbles out like a waterfall- âAll month longâŠâ
Prying open your teary lips, your tongue feels heavy. âWh-what?â
âAll month long- and this is what it comes down to- on the last day- in the last hour.â He mutters, a thin line of sweat winding down his temple. âIâve lost. Iâve seriously lost. Taken out by my beautiful wife. In my jacket.â
And before you can say anything, his long index hooks on the hem of your neckline. Tugging down. Pulling. Higurumaâs using that hidden strength of his to make sure that your outfit rings out the tiniest riiiiipâ
âAnd Iâd lose No Nut November all over again to fuck you in nothing but my jacket, angel.â
A/N. Of course I couldnât NOT write this ngh-
Plagiarism not authorized.
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