Ooh that last scenario gave me the idea of doing the same TO Riddle, I bet he never touch himself and it would be great if his s/o teaches him how!
Characters: Riddle Rosehearts
Tags: NSFW, smut, smut with no plot, handjob, masturbation
Notes: gender neutral reader, everyone is 18+, I'm a convict believer it would be so fun to play around with him and just tease him with lewd matters lmao
•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°••·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°••·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
The soothing silence of the room is interrupted by the lingering moans and pants that Riddle elicits, a low, urgent melody that melts from his lips. The way he arches his back against the fluff pillows and his hips bucks in shaky thrusts against your hand sends a thrill down your spine - he looks absolutely beautiful and so uncharacteristically vulnerable at the absolute mercy of your hands.
There's a fine layer of sweat sticking to his lean figure, making his pale sking glisten against the gentle strands of sun that peeks through the widows of his room. The smell of arousal heightens your senses with ethereal longing, mingling with the gorgeous view of a Riddle with eyes tightly shut, mouth slightly agape, allowing shy sounds of satisfaction to ressonate through his throat.
Your eyes linger around every curve of his skin, drinking in the sight of his bare figure; his chest heaves with the erratic rythm of his breathing, body hot and squirming at every calculated pump of your hands. You can feel the way his cock throbs in antecipation and how his grip tightens around your wrist like it's his lifeline, and it makes your heart burn with smug pride.
A whine of protest falls from his parted lips when your hand releases his aching, needy lenght with a dry last pump. His eyelids slowly pries open to reveal his stormy eyes ablaze with lust and longing; you watch as his eyebrows furrow ever so slightly, giving his delicate and pleasure-drown features a silent question that most felt like a plea from the way his hips shakily thrusted into the air a few more times before falling limp over the sheets.
"You look so handsome like that, my love," you coo at him, one of your hands coming to brush a wilf strand of hair away from his face, fingertips caressing at his damp temple. "But there's no point in me doing all the work, now. Come on, show me what you just learned."
"But I-" Riddle tries to protest, but you shush him with a reassuring peck at his lips. His breath hitches at his throat, being momentarily ridden of any of his usually smart and well articulated remarks, making you giggle with affection from his reaction. It was clear as day just how much he wanted to continue feeling your touch, the way you orchestrated his impending orgasm with painfully slow strokes, but by the determined look on your face, he knew you wouldn't yield. No use for puppy dog eyes.
Riddle mumbles his protests, slowly making himself comfortable between the fluffy pillows. Suddenly, a wave of realization washes over him, the exposure and vulnerability dawning over his inhibitions. With flushed cheeks, he tries to cover as much as possible, knees knitting together only for his attempts to be frustrated by your firm grip over his thighs. Riddle's eyes widens when you position yourself to sit right the base of his kness, the weight pinning him down and forcing his legs to sit spread and still.
Shaky, lean fingers wrap around his shaft, the slightest touch of warmth sending shivers down his spine. Riddle closes his eyes once again, not only heightening his senses, but also trying to flush the sudden shame of being observed while doing something so... lewd. Slowly, his hands strokes up to his throbbing cock and down to his base, pulling the skin with an experimental rythm, uncertainty plasteres over his features, but you do not intervene, merely giving him a nod of approval everytime he sought guidance. You watch in awe as Riddle finally builds some confidence, his pumping growing more consistent and quickier, sighs falling from his lips as pre-cum starts building on the slit of his flush head. You need to bite your lips to stop you from leaning in, hunger beaming over your irises from the lustful spectacle.
Riddle moans and writhes under your weight, his strokes growing clearly needier and sloppier by the second. He cups his engorged head, frantically caressing it in a hazy bliss, and from the way he groes bolder, you can assume he's getting closer to his ectasy. With an amused hum, one of your hands reaches to fondle his balls, teasing and gently squeezing them. It's a delight how Riddle squirms and his hips rolls with fervour against his own hands, the pleasure too overwhelming for him; it was his first time discovering about the pleasure his body was capable of working up, after all.
His reactions are all too cute to resist, too - the way his eyes rolled to the back of his head, back arching as he just instinctively bucked his hips, hands franctically pumping up and down his throbbing cock as he desperately chased after sweet release; his tongue shyly peeking from his luscious lips as moans filled the space between you two, managing to gasp out your name with urgency. God, Riddle looked a piece of art. Gorgeous and messed up, lost in hazy pleasure as his primal desires took over.
When the coiling knot over his stomach finally eased out, allowing his cum to spill unabashed with thick shots all over his abdomen, Riddle lets out a final, almost guttural groan slip from his lips, trembling and gasping for air.
Next time, maybe, you should bring in some toys as well.
