The water spilling out of the faucet splashes against the sink's basin rhythmically. It's not a particularly comforting melody, but it's better than the heavy silence that used to blanket the bathroom.
You let your eyes fall shut, letting yourself focus on the sound until it’s abruptly turned off. You squint your eyes open slowly.
Armand is now facing you, his lips pressed together in a way that expertly conveys both disappointment and annoyance. You have to actively work at not rolling your eyes.
He walks towards you with slow, measured steps. "This is going to sting."
You can't keep yourself from sighing. "Which is a fact I'm sure you're completely torn up about."
Armand bends down, adjusting himself so that he's sitting directly in front of you on the bathroom floor. He lifts his chin slightly, looking at you in a way that feels so incredibly boyish you briefly forget that you're supposed to be mad at him. "You really think I'd find joy in hurting you?"
You frown, dropping your gaze so that you're forced to look at your scraped knees. The marks aren't particularly overwhelming but they're worse than anything Armand or Louis have seen you with. The blood that's dripped down your legs and the gravel still stuck to aggravated skin aren’t making things look any better, either.
"No," you admit, "You've never struck me as particularly sadistic."
The corner of his mouth turns up slightly but the expression feels far from a smile. "There are people that would disagree with you."
"Fine," you amend, "You've never been particularly sadistic towards me."
He lifts the washcloth he just dampened, dabbing the fabric against your knee. To Armand's credit, he does so incredibly carefully but your skin feels so raw you still inhale sharply when he moves the washcloth.
The reaction doesn't go unnoticed. Armand places a hand against your leg, his fingers bending around your lower leg. He drags his thumb against uninjured skin soothingly. "I think I could be converted."
You press your hands against the tile floor as Armand works at removing a stubborn piece of gravel out of the largest scrape. "Especially after today, I'm sure."
He sighs. "I'm not sure there's much point in hurting you when you're so good at doing it yourself."
Great--this again. "I tripped," you say slowly, over pronouncing each syllable, "I know you hate that I bleed. I hate it, too." The thought of staying still feels overwhelming but there's not much you can do with Armand sitting so close to you. "I hate that it makes Louis feel like a monster. I hate that it makes you uncomfortable."
You swallow once in an attempt to keep a lump in your throat from forming. When that doesn't work, you give into your earlier impulses and try to pull your leg away from him. Armand's hold on you tightens before you can create any meaningful distance. "You don't have to help me."
"I'm sure you'd feel so much better if your darling Louis could be in here, reminding you that are as faultless as always," he drags the washcloth downwards, "but he's not feeling up to it right now."
A sharp pinch of guilt settles somewhere behind your chest. "I didn't mean it like that."
He doesn't respond. Despite your lingering annoyance, you let your leg relax again. Armand dislodges another piece of gravel. When the jagged piece of rock falls out of place, a small trickle of blood follows it. You watch Armand as the fresh blood begins to drip down your leg.
You do your best to keep your expression neutral. "It won't be a big deal if you need a break." Armand doesn't look up at you. "I know that you don't want Louis to feel worse, but you're under no obligation to do this."
Armand scoffs, the sound bitter. "Under no obligation?" He drags out each syllable. You resist the urge to shift as Armand's hold on you tightens again, his nails just barely pressing into your skin. "In over 500 years of existence I have never felt as obligated to anyone as I feel to you."
His response settles over you, the weight of it heavy enough to make your lungs feel flat. An uncomfortable warmth begins to burn its way up your neck.
Obligated to you. The words coil themselves around your stomach. "Why? Because I'm so pathetic I couldn't possibly survive without your intervention?"
With no warning, Armand places a hand on your shoulder. Your back is pressed against the bathroom wall before you can even register the fact that he's pushing you. The new angle isn't uncomfortable but it does make it difficult to not look him in the eye.
"Any obligation I feel towards you comes from a level of devotion you're not capable of understanding." He forces the words out in a way that almost feels violent. All you can do is stare at him. "There is no amount of comfort, self preservation, or emotion that I would put above your well being."
The confession stretches out over both of you in a way that's inescapable. You can't breathe, can't blink, can't react. Even though your thoughts feel incoherent, you still still feel your mind instinctually try to swallow them so that no one else can reach them.
He shouldn't care about you as much as he does on Louis's behalf or his own. You haven't done anything to deserve any kind of dedication, especially one that feels as incredibly resolute as Armand's. Something about the way he's looking makes it impossible for you to try to explain that to him, so instead of responding, you nod.
Armand pulls away from you slowly, his hand dragging down your arm until he's sitting up straight again. He begins to gingerly dab at your other knee. You let him work silently for another minute before extending an arm towards him.
You're not sure if he sees your intentions through your thoughts or if he's just that familiar with you now, but his expression doesn't indicate much surprise as you pull his hand away from your leg. Armand lets you bring his knuckles to your lips. "You're very important to me. I don't--I don't want you suffering over every time I get a papercut."
He's quiet for a moment before setting down his washcloth. Then, he brings his pointer finger to the side of your leg, wiping at a trail of blood that's yet to fully dry. You watch him with an almost morbid level of curiosity as he brings your blood to his mouth.
Armand watches you as he drags his tongue against the side of his finger. "Everything with you is its own kind of suffering."
okay but what if its the other way around.. armand is kissing up besties neck and jaw and bestie accidentally whimpers and then he stares at her like ⚫️_⚫️ and then teases her after he gains composure
bestie would tense up so quickly. she’d want to play it off so badly but it wouldn’t work 💔
armand would also briefly still, but his reasons are very different from bestie’s. he’s fighting for his life to not pounce on her like a cat.
he eventually looks up at her and his pupils are fully blown. he makes a few teasing comments but they’re devoid of any actual humor (because he’s not joking 😭).
bestie brushing/styling armand’s hair and instead of telling him when she’s finished, she leans forward and presses a kiss to his shoulder. she does it so often that armand learns to see it as her way of telling him that he’s free to move again.
when armand helps bestie with a zipper, a necklace clasp, or her hair, he starts doing the same thing.
something about them developing silent signals is so endearing to me. they know each other so well, they can express things to each other without words <3
I would imagine it starts with small things and tiny steps… And drinking buckets of your maker's blood, but that's a matter for some art in the future.
WHATEVER I’m not even thinking about devils minion in s3... 3rd is inspired by the last part of a haunting just for company by valkyrisms which is perhaps the devils minion fic ever..
Synopsis: in which your roommate can only be woken up with your tongue inside her
Warning: cnc, somnophilia, consensual deal, perv!reader?, fem!reader, lesbianssss, cunnilingus, reference to thigh grinding, non curse au, college au, breast play, belly press technique, Shoko art by @_3aem on X, not proofread
Word Count: 2.7k
Roommate!Shoko who is a deep sleeper and has been known to miss classes because she just won’t get the fuck up. Her body does as it pleases; she wakes up on her own time, usually hours later, scratching her head and yawning.
“Morning, sexy.” She plops her entire body weight upon your back, then nuzzles the crook of your neck, and mumbles, “I missed my brunch plans with Dumb and Dumber again. They’re gonna be so mad. You’ll protect me, won’t you?”
“Why can’t you just wake up?” you ask in concern, pretending you can’t feel her tits on your back.
“Because you’re not in my arms,” she replies.
“Ha. Ha.”
Roommate!Shoko pats your ass before she goes over to the counter to make coffee. “I’ve always been like this, but I used to have my parents physically dragging me out of bed. Guess I need a special touch.”
It’s gotten so bad that her friend, Gojo, has offered you a lot of money to get her out of the apartment on time.
And you’re not one to turn down money.
So you devised a plan to capitalise on this. You tried banging pots and pans, leaving ten alarms so that they blare all at once, shaking her, yelling right in her ear — nothing. She will not budge. She will not flinch.
She will not wake the hell up.
So it’s clear that by ‘special’ she doesn’t mean violence, because you’ve rained attacks on her with her pillow many times and it never did anything but tire you out.
Until, one day, you discovered, by complete accident, that there’s a foolproof way to get her up and alert: orgasms.
It really was an accident.
You were trying to wrangle her out of bed, and changed so that when she did wake up, she could rush out of the apartment instead of wasting time trying to pick an outfit. It was thoughtful. Smart. Genius!
But she never makes anything easy for you.
Her body fought against your attempts, wanting to cling to the comfortable mattress and stay in the warm comforts of her blanket. In all the wriggling and fighting, your thigh ended up between hers, lodged firmly to the apex.
You realised too late what was happening; you still fought and fought, and was accidentally grinding your thigh to her pussy. It only became apparent to you what a horrible mistake you had made and what an unfortunate position you were in when her arms locked around your torso to keep you in place as she subconsciously humped your leg.
Then her body was spasming. She was moaning in your ear, leaving a warm wetness on your skin.
Within seconds, she was awake and confused as to what you were doing above her, all flustered and aghast.
You didn’t want to tell her what happened, out of embarrassment. In fact, you vowed to take it to your grave. But the money dropped in your account, with a note that said, thx for working miracles, from The Strongest. And for the first time in months, maybe even years, you were able to splurge.
So, guilt-ridden and fully prepared to go to jail, you explained.
Roommate!Shoko hummed, arms and legs crossed. She eyed you through her long lashes before a devious smile pulled at her lips. “So, you molested me in my sleep and woke me up.”
“I wouldn’t put it like that,” you argued, cringing. “But, yeah, I guess. I promise it was an accident though!”
She cradled your cheek and tenderly pressed a kiss to the other. “It’s alright. I’m actually quite grateful we found a solution to my sleeping problem.”
A beat of silence passed.
“What?”
Casually, she strutted off and jumped on the sofa. She patted the seat next to her as she said, “You want money, I want to wake up on time. Sounds pretty simple to me. Do what you gotta do, and we don’t have to talk about it after. It’ll be our little secret.”
Things spiralled soon after.
A routine formed.
Every morning, varying the time based on what she had going on that day, you would sneak into her room, checking she’s asleep.
Today is no different.
The door opens to your touch. You step in.
Roommate!Shoko lies over her covers, on her stomach, dressed in only her panties and a big T-shirt that belongs to Geto. You sigh. There’s 20 minutes before she has to get to her feet and wash up if she wants to make it on time for a lecture. A med student really cannot afford to be missing any classes and lectures, so you never understood why she doesn’t take care of herself better.
Being the one to make sure she can make good on her promises and graduate with a degree has become your responsibility. The burden is heavy. It’s not like you have nothing going on in your life.
At this point, however, when you’ve earned thousands and are swimming in money because she’s friends with a rich kid, you can’t complain.
With a little groan, you flip her on her back.
Still nothing.
“Jeez, Sho,” you mutter, “I could throw you down a flight of stairs and you’d still be snoring.”
You trail your fingers over her bare thigh, until they skim the hem of her grey Calvin Klein panties. It’s one of your favourites. Maybe she knows that, maybe she doesn’t. Who’s to say if she gets herself into positions that pushes her gorgeous ass out on purpose, if she wears clothes she knows you can’t get enough of?
Parting her legs for her, you hum as you press an indent on her clothed slit. It surprises you every time how squishy her pussy lips are. Her hips jolt. You easily find her clit, rubbing in gentle circles, just the way she likes at first.
Roommate!Shoko stirs.
You lie on your stomach on the bed, keeping her legs spread. The mattress drips. The bed frame creaks. Does she wake up?
Of course not.
Her thighs are smooth and soft; they’re nice to lay on when you’re watching movies together. They’re even nicer to rest your cheek on when you’re up close and personal with her panties. Your nose nudges the cute little bump where her clit is, inhaling her sweet scent.
A wet spot has formed at the gusset — grey panties show it so easily. Giggling a little, you press a kiss to the darker spot. You lick the faint taste of her off your lips. Not even a second later, you’re suckling on the fabric. “Mm, Sho. I can already taste you,” you tell her, even though she can’t hear.
Roommate!Shoko releases a low moan. When you peek up, she’s still asleep. Her lips are parted, her breathing’s steady, eyes closed. Although, you do spot a light dusting of pink on her cheeks and the way her two middle fingers, which rests upon her pillow, twitches.
All good signs.
With 15 minutes left to go, you decide to up the ante; pulling her panties to the side, you’re met with her puffy lips, which have grown shiny with her juices. The heat radiating has you growing dizzy.
It’s silly really, how you’re more affected than her.
There’s always a mix of feelings inside you every time you do this: guilt because she has no idea exactly what you do to her, excitement because she has no idea that you take the initiative to suck on her clit, and disappointment because she has no idea and cannot return the favour.
After each time, you send her off or you leave first, you’re always left with an itch you have to scratch, on your own. You’ve wondered many times how nice it would be to have her between your legs, to feel her slender fingers in you and sinful mouth on you.
Of course, you know this is wrong, that this arrangement isn’t healthy or ethical, but it’s for her own good. It’s simply a bonus that this isn’t much of a sacrifice to make because you’ve always had a fat crush on your smart, witty, sexy as sin roommate, with her slender legs, wide hips, slutty waist, and huge tits.
Speaking of…
A hand creeps up. You grope one of her breasts over her shirt. Fat pudge between your fingers. Her nipple is hard, poking your palm. You run a blunt nail down the little bud. Her back arches. Like clockwork.
Roommate!Shoko loves to have her tits played, especially over the top, where the friction and the texture of her shirt adds a special kind of thrill.
Right on cue, a fresh wave of pussy juices oozes out of her, dripping down the plumpness of her ass. You collect it on the tip of your tongue, then bury it back inside her. Warm, gummy walls clench around the wet appendage. Above you, another moan resounds. It shoots straight through your body. Your own pussy reacts.
Even in her sleep she’s so hot.
“Don’t worry, Sho,” you chirp. “I’ll have you awake soon.”
You lick a fat stripe up her slit.
Her juices are sweet and tangy, with a distinct taste of her. It’s intoxicating. Her internal heat and your breath creates a humid mix that has your and her clit throbbing seemingly in tandem. You greedily lick as much of her as you can, making sure to flick her cute button on your way up.
“Mmm.”
Roommate!Shoko’s shuffling now, writhing slowly. Her breathing’s grown irregular, deeper, face more flushed. One leg wrestles itself from your grip. It throws itself over your shoulder, bending to push your head even closer. Soothing, you brush her heated flesh.
In her sleep, her pelvis rocks up. It’s subconsciously grinding her whole pussy on your face, seeking the tip of your nose to satisfy her needy clit. That’s fine with you — you can shove your tongue inside her pussy and curl it against the rough texture near the entrance in the meantime.
Both of your hands are squeezing and massaging her tits, wanting to hear more sleepy moans and groans from her pretty lips. You could play with them for hours. They’re a work of wonder. She’s always pressing them against your back, your arms, in your face. Sometimes you think she does it on purpose. Perhaps you hope she does.
Lewd sounds are being wrung out by your mouth, which has become an expert in her body by now: squelches, slurrrrps, and the sticking of skin with the messiness of her wetness spreading itself all over your cheeks, chin, her inner thighs.
You look at the alarm clock on her bedside table.
4 minutes.
How time flies when you’re having fun.
“Alright, Sho. You’re gonna need to cum for me,” you tell her, slapping the side of her tit to watch it bounce. She gasps.
Since she hasn’t woken up yet, her bladder’s probably full. And everyone knows the best time to touch yourself is when you need to pee. She’s not an exception.
You press a hand down on her lower belly as you wrap your swollen lips around her clit. At the same time that you apply pressure, you suuuuckkk! it hard.
Roommate!Shoko’s hips jerk. They threaten to pull away from you. You hold her body down, mercilessly devouring her cunt with increasing hunger. The pulsing of her clit and the clenching of her insides have intensified. She’s close. Really close.
“N-no,” she breathes out. “Nghhh, gonna -hah- gonna…”
She’s throwing her head side to side, eyes shut tight, and low moans turning into louder groans and whines.
Finally, her body tenses.
A ferocious climax tears right through her.
You hold her firmly as she cums, lapping incessantly at the juices overflowing, threatening to stain her bedsheets. Your hips hump the bed, overwhelmed by the tightness of her thighs which clamp around your bed, trying to suffocate you, undecided between wanting to push you away or pull you in.
There’s barely any stimulation. It’s frustrating. Infuriating. Maddening. Maybe you should try scissoring with her. Would she mind?
The clock reads that there’s only a minute to spare. Sloppy work.
Knowing that any second now, she’ll be waking up, you give her quick licks around to clean her up. Then you move her panties back into place. Right as the alarm goes off, you’re standing to your feet.
Roommate!Shoko’s eyes flutter open.
She grips a breast in one hand and her pussy with the other, wanting to calm the aches you’re sure as she’s still feeling the tremors of pleasure in her system.
“Morning, Sho.”
Her eyes dart to you. She lets her body go. If she’s embarrassed she’s been caught grinding into the heel of her palm, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she gives you a lazy smile. “Mmm, hi, gorgeous. You know how I love when you’re the first thing I see in the mornings.”
Even freshly woken up, she’s a flirt.
Taking her hand, you pull her to a sitting position. She runs a hand through her hair and exhales. “Man, whatever you did, you did really well. I feel so light. Mm, my pussy’s tingling.”
“We don’t talk about it, remember?”
Roommate!Shoko bites her lip, and, with a smirk, raises her arms in surrender. “Of course. My bad.”
Her hands grip your hips. You find your body being used as leverage so that she can get to her feet. You’re chest to chest now. Her hard nipples scrape yours. You fight the urge to moan right in her face. Pelvis to pelvis too; you feel the heat of her pussy through your shorts. You wonder if she feels yours.
Tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, she purrs, “You always take such good care of me, don’t you, roomie?”
“Anything to afford rent,” you say.
With a yawn, she side steps you to head to her en-suite bathroom. “Don’t I know it? Well, I appreciate you coming into my room everyday to make sure I wake up to my alarm. You go above and beyond. You’re the best. I love you, babe.”
“Don’t mention it.”
You fall to her bed. Partly because your knees are weak, because your pussy’s still throbbing and you need some friction, and partly to hide the wet spot that’s formed on her sheet.
At the doorway, she pauses.
Turning her head to look at you, she gives a wry smile. That’s all the warning you get before she’s shrugging her shirt and panties off. You get an eyeful of pale skin and curves you want to take a bite of.
“Shoko!”
Roommate!Shoko looks at you with innocent, bambi eyes. “What’s wrong? We’re both girls.”
“It doesn’t matter,” you splutter, looking away even though you really want to look. And occasionally looking back, as though you can’t help it. “Where are your manners?”
The girl’s shameless.
Truly, utterly shameless.
A normal person would be ashamed that they have to be eaten out by their roommate to wake up. A normal person wouldn’t be undressing right in front of their roommate. But then again, a normal person wouldn’t be eating their roommate out for money either.
She rolls her eyes. “My manners?” she repeats. “Where are yours?”
“What’re you talking about?”
Roommate!Shoko runs a finger across her lips and says, “Got a little something there.”
Face flushing, you hurriedly wipe away her juices from your lips and chin. Oh god, that is humiliating. How long had that been there? Why didn’t she say anything sooner?
She laughs. “You know, you’re allowed to try different methods to wake me up, right?”
“Oh.” A twinge of disappointment hits you. Frowning a little, you ask, “You want me to go back to wafting smelling salts under your nose? That did seem to work for a little bit.”
Roommate!Shoko shakes her head. “No, babes, I’m saying you should let me have something sweet once in a while. Switch it up here and there, y’know? Have some fun for yourself.” With a grin that’s all sorts of bad for your heart rate, she adds, “I don’t bite.”
The room smells like tobacco and whatever cheap lotion she swiped from the morgue counters. Shoko doesn’t rush. She treats your thighs like a pair of old bookends, shoving them wide with her forearms, her gaze heavy and half-lidded as she looks at the treasure in between them.
Shoko is obsessed with your pussy. You sometimes think she prefers it to the rest of you; she greets it good morning, afternoon, and night.
"Missed you, gorgeous," she mumbles against your thigh, her voice a nicotine-scratched rasp.
Then she shifts, two long fingers hooking into your lips to pull you open. She doesn't do gentle—she leans down and presses a wet, heavy kiss right against your clit, suctioning it for a second until it throbs. When she pulls back, she watches it twitch, a faint smirk cutting across her face. "Look at that. So fucking responsive. Can't even help yourself, can you?"
It’s humiliating how clinically she tracks every single twitch. Shoko doesn't get flustered; she observes. She watches your walls quiver and tighten in real-time, her thumb tracing the damp heat of your perineum while she deliberately ignores your bud. She slides two fingers inside, lazily stretching your slick opening, testing your gummy walls with a slow, rhythmic pump that makes you arch off the mattress.
You’re begging with your hips, but she just pins your hipbone down with her free hand, a quiet, amused hum vibrating in her throat.
"Gonna turn you into a soaking mess," Shoko murmurs, finally shifting her weight. Her thumb locks onto your swollen clit, rolling over it with a bruising pressure. She leans down again, her mouth right over your messy folds, catching a string of spit that drips from her bottom lip. It mixes with the thick, shiny cream she’s dragged out of you, coating her mouth like a glossy sheen—the only kind of lip gloss she’d ever bother wearing. "Just relax and take it for me."
꣖ note: ꣓ I’m rewatching season 2 and her nonchalantness has my pussy convulsing in excitement and also I realized I want to focus on writing more about woman 👩🏽❤️💋👩🏻🤍
