#ITS CLICKS ALL THE WAY DOWN NOW

[echobsilly]

microwaves him so lovingly ❤️💥

[luck-of-the-drawings]

POOR GABRIEL MONTEZ! YOU NEVER SAW THIS COMING DID YOU? ALL YOU WANTED WAS POWER. SECURITY. SAFETY. & THATS EXACTLY WHAT YOU GOT! JUST IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR BODY. LETS JUST HOPE NO ONE FUCKS THIS UP. LETS JUST HOPE YOU WONT HAVE TO CLEAN UP THE MESS.

[goobygnarp]

.

[iniziare]

This'll mostly get hate love from Lottie (please remember that you love me, and you once told me that you'd remember me fondly), I know, but I still want to make note of it. Now, Jing Yuan wouldn't say the following with the same confidence (not that he lacks it, but it's different) as the man in this video, but I have to note... it's just, the energy. It's the warmth with which he speaks, and smiles, the effortless ease of his composure and words. But also the gaiety, the tease. It's that little boyish charm that is still wrapped up in this man that is too old for it, but it fits so incredibly well.

And as a wise person (hi again, Lottie) once said: it's the whole- he must have been a bit of a scoundrel in his youth but this is an older, more mature version that still has that twinkle in the eye.

[broke-on-books]

Keep getting pissed off & frustrated and now my stomach hurts

[makeitlookdecent]

srry homie for what im boutta do

for the au[other colors] i thought it would be cool to have klugs parents show up for a couple scenes, but for the timeline of the major events i needed them GONE and UNRESPONSIVE.

hes smart so i think, even at a young age, he gets that they're busy with work and all, and he's not alone per say- his friends and teachers and everyone in primp would definitely look out for him, but ive just been thinking. because like, i thought itd be cool if it was almost like strange also helped raise klug. as a (malicious) mentor of sorts. after they made truce (that they both keep breaking)

i imagine klugs parents are probably good people, but are horrible as parents. like they just keep doing their own thing and just let the village raise him.

but then that got me thinking, in this setting, do you think he would unknowingly (or maybe knowingly but trying not to think about it) resent them for not being there for him growing up?

[the-casbah-way]

sorry for taking ages with down then left. i have lost all confidence in my writing style and i'm trying to clutch at the remnants of it with desperate trembling hands. you know how it is

[bugflies00]

you know i understand people have different coping mechanisms but i really wish some of those were not public

[arolesbianism]

Did all the upper layer core suppressions in my second playthrough today 👍 I still stand by that Netzach's healing bursts are maybe a bit too generous, but it did also happen to be the only one I didn't first try so who am I to talk ig 😔

[loveanddeepdick]

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅ hi angel!

obsesssed!perv!geto x f!reader || suguru keeps jacking off to you! stop it sugu!

here is a link to my obsessed!geto masterlist this fic is crazy btw pls click off if u get uncomfy

cw and notes: LOWK WRITTEN NASTYILY AND HORNYBRAINED, im gonna be honest its a mess of all the shit i like, kinda gross geto lol, groping, sir kink, dom/sub coded, obsession, unhealthy behavior, dubcon touchin, nudes, indecent exposure but in the comfort of your own home, piv sex, nipple play, creampie, teasing, masturbation, multiple rounds, posessiveness, this is a little insane of me but per the request of deepdick citizens i as your mayor will deliver, not proofead lol

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

geto suguru has no shame.

from the moment you met him until now, he always says everything and anything on his mind. when he first asked you out, he pulled you aside, gripping your shoulder as he bluntly confessed to you.

"we'll have dinner tomorrow. 8pm at nobu," he smiled before patting your shoulder and walking away. you damn near got whiplash as you swiveled your head around, speechless as he just nonchalantly walked off.

but if you thought he spoke his mind without any repercussions, you should've seen what he did to the coworker who was harassing you. he's heard about her during one of your stories about work, crazy customers, unhinged coworkers, careless higher-ups.

she was long gone the day you returned to work.

in a way, he loved that you didn't mind his straightforward behavior , that you appreciated how transparent he was. but with that also came with your nympho boyfriend jacking off anywhere and everywhere in your shared apartment. he walks around with his dick out for fucks sake, and today, you swore he was on some aphrodisiac.

9:14am. friday morning.

you were cooking up breakfast in your shared kitchen, humming as you sipped from your mug. you heard the heavy creaking of suguru's feet on the wooden floor approaching as he yawned. he was inhumanly tall, lanky and skinny yet toned whenever he stretched.

he groaned scratched his stomach underneath his black tank, lifting it up to reveal his dark happy trail.

"morning, baby," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your neck as he leaned down, pressing his chest to your back as he inhaled your scent.

"brush your teeth, su-" you paused as he pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, behind you ears, and the top of your head. you silently cursed, feeling something hard growing against your back. "again, suguru?".

you lightly pushed his head back before he whined and buried his nose in your hair again, inhaling deeplty.

"you smell so good, angel," he was nearly whimpering, his cock growing harder, "please, baby, just let me have my morning fill,"

you bit your cheek to keep a poker face, grabbing bowls for you and suguru before bending over the counter

"help yourself," you playfully sighed before grabbing the pans and plating the food. he grinned, giving you kisses in your hair before pulling your pajamas and panties down, taking his cock out to jack off to your ass. "make it quick, suguru,"

"fuucck, youre so hot, just keep.. keep doing what you were doing," he spat into fist before fucking his dick into it.

"you're such a pervert, suguru," you mumbled, bending over a little more to give him a better view.

"keep calling me that, turns me on," there was hearts in his eyes, watching your cute pajama pants scrunched around your knees as your pussy and little asshole was twitching and puckering just for him.

like clockwork, he squirted white ropes, coating your pussy as it dripped down onto your panties. he kneeled down, pulling your panties up to your cum soaked pussy before he brought a finger up to run it against the crotch area, poking around at his sealed cum against your hole.

"so gross," you rolled your eyes.

"yeah? but you stand there, you take it, and you love it, don't you?" he chuckled, pressing his nose in to inhale as you yelp, making you bend over just a little better as he sniffed in the nasty mix.

with a kiss to your clothed pussy, he pulled your pajamas back up, getting back to his feet with a gentle smack to your ass.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

11:52pm, friday afternoon

you get a text during your lunch break from suguru. what could he need this time? well, you had an idea.

>'hi, angel im otw with some lunch for you'

>'doing what i asked you to, aren't you?'

you hid your blush even though you were alone in your office. there, under your tight skirt and white cotton panties, was suguru's load was pressed wetunder your panties, your thighs squeezing together and keeping the cum warm.

<mhm im in my office

>[video attatchment]

you opened the video with low volume. he was in his car, holding a polaroid of you. he's in the parking garage of the apartment complex with his zipper down, his cock pink and standing tall. the video is only a minute long as he jacks off to your picture, his cock tip nearly touching your face on the polaroid before he cums, covering the entire thing.

what a nasty man.

you hear a knock on your door before he comes in, your thighs instinctively trying to hide your arousal from his teasing words. you place your phone on your desk as he approaches, chuckling at the sight of your not-so-well hidden flustered face.

"what's wrong, angel?" he mocked, grinning before he stood before you, his pointer finger lightly stroking your jaw as you peered up at his form.

his tall, dark form is almost eerie as he leaned down a little to look at you. he had hurricanes in his eyes as they bore into yours before trailing down a bit to your cleavage poking out from your white button-up. what a pervert. even then, it was like peering into heaven after centuries damned in hell.

your arms drift up and around his waist before you embrace his toned figure, your cheek pushed into his sweater.

"my eyes aren't as low as where you're looking, you creep,"

"just means i can focus on two things at once, huh?"

you playfully slap him before he grabs your wrist, pulling you up from your chair and pinning your against your desk, your chest against his ribcage as he peers down upon you.

"missed you so much," he breathed out before his eyes trailed down, his hands coming up to trace your figure, his hands stopping to cup your tits through your clothes as you squirmed and closed your legs, "keep them open,"

his knee came in between your legs, parting them and leaving you. vulnerable to him.

"you been a good girl today, hm?" he chuckled, giving your tits a squeeze before one of his hands travelled down to your skirt, lifting it up to reveal your nearly see-through panties squished up on his leg.

"yes, sir.." you the inside of your cheek to bite back a moan as he began slighly moving his leg up and down.

he guided you to sit on the desk as he knelt, lifting your skirt as he looked at your panties with hearts in his eyes. you leaned back a bit so he could take them off. his fingers hooked both sides of your panties as he slowly peeled.

"ffuuckkk, angel," he hissed as the mixture of his cum and your arousal strung to your pussy as he pulled down your panties, the crotch area gooey and smearing the sticky substance all over your pussy.

you whined as he licked a hard stripe from your perineum to your clit, giving it a loud suck before leaning back, showing you the nasty mix on his tongue before swallowing it with a shit eating grin.

"gross perv- ah, fuck!" you couldn't even finish your sentence before his head dove in between your legs again, lapping at your pussy as he flicked it with his tongue and shoved his face deep between your thighs, using his hands to push them together and trap his face.

"suuguuu..." you whined as you grinded on his face

"use my face, baby, y'taste so fucking good, nobody knows this sloppy pussy like i fuckin' do," he pulled off your clit with a slurp before spitting on it, "say it. say i know this pussy the best,"

"y-you know this pussy the best, sir!" you gripped his long silky hair before your heart dropped into your pussy, "w-wait sir, something c-coming!"

"just let it happen, angel, let go for me, it's gonna feel good i promise," he groaned into your pussy before you twitched, convulsing as you squirted into his mouth. he latched onto your pussy, sucking your clit and messily lapping his touch as he drank your juices.

"so.. gross, sugu,"

"lunch break's over, sweetheart," he chuckled with a kiss after he helped you clean up, "tell your coworkers i said hi,"

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

6:07 pm, friday evening

suguru loves watching you eat. he rarely ever works in person, preferring to have his spirit consultations online (where he loves to scam rich people who exploit others). before you come home from work, he makes sure to make you a nice home-cooked meal or get takeout from somewhere you love.

he watches you eat, savoring each spoonful and gushing on and on about how good it tastes. the small smile on his face looks like little cracks on a china plate. to any other person, it would seem as though his reaction was neutral, but you knew this meant he was ecstatic.

later, you flopped on your bed, landing atop the blankets on your back as you sigh happily from the food. he comes up to you, climbing into bed to sit against the headboard before he reached down and rubbed your stomach lightly with his thumb,

"tummy must be all fun huh, angel?" he chuckled, "should i put on a movie?"

you nod, rolling over onto your stomach as you rest your cheek on your crossed arms, shuffling pressing your side against geto's as he watches you swing your feet in the air a bit.

suguru puts on a horror movie and you groan, realizing it was his turn to choose. you haven't seen this one yet, an old classic thriller probably. some stupid killer on the loose with more stupid people getting killed probably.

he watches you, the way you seem so intrigued with the plot, the way your back moves up and down as you breath, your little laughs when the characters make a joke. he just can't help the blood rushing down to his crotch. the movie plays as you begin to drift off before you hear the shuffling of fabric.

before you turn around, you hear him cough and spit into his hand. the sounds of his spit-soaked hand going up and down his cock, sloppy and desperate for relief as he gets so turned on by you doing anything.

"suguu.. are you jacking off right now?" you gasp, your head whipping around to see him pumping his cock with a expressionless face.

"just focus, baby," he grunted, "you look so cute right now,"

you shifted, sitting against the headboard with him, snuggled up to his side as you watched him masturbate. it wasn't weirdest thing, in fact, this was probably the most normal thing going on in your home. he draped his arm around you, resting it on the headboard as you shyly watched him.

"you're so pretty, suguu," you breathed as he sped up his strokes

with a groan, he finishes on his hand, bringing it up to your lips so you could clean it.

"goood girl, always so obedient, aren't you?" he smiles as you release his finger with a pop, licking his hand clean and drifting your focus back to the movie. you try to swallow it covertly but the way his eyes dart to you face shows that he noticed. he nestled closer to you, his arm resting on your thigh.

the movie continued, suguru not even bothering to put his dick back and going bare in your room (ew) before his arm shifted again, the arm around you dropping lower until his fingers were grazing your shoulder. with a blush you squirm as his hand begins to travel down to your clothed chest, resting on it.

you glare at him before focusing on the movie again until you feel him squeeze it lightly, his finger coming up to draw circles around you covered nipple. biting back a moan, you drift your hand closer to his cock until the killer from the movie pops up with a loud bang, scaring you as you yelp.

your clothed clit grazes against geto's fingers as you jump. he holds back a laugh for your sake, watching you scared expression from the film as he keep his fingers against your clit. after a couple minutes, he begins rubbing it gently through your panties.

you moan, pawing at his wrist gently as you babble about watching the movie. he knew you didn't give two shits about the shitty cgi two-star film.

"you don't want it? tell me if you don't want it, baby, i'll stop," he mumbles against your hear as his groping and rubbing stops for a moment, waiting for your response only to be met with silence. he smiles against your ear before he lifts you up, laying you down on the previous position on your stomach again as he sits behind you.

"you wanna focus? then focus."

he watches you squirm, your fluffy pajama shorts hugging your figure as he can almost swear he can see your pussy. he stalks like a predator hunting prey behind you, trapping you under him as he pulls your panties aside.

"don't get scared, baby," he chuckles, "you jumping is only gonna make me feel good,"

he thrusts his dick deep into you as you moan, gripping the sheets as your feet kicked against the bed from the sudden intrusion. he pressed his body against you, leaning into your neck as he inhales your scent, his hand coming up to your face to shove his fingers into your mouth.

"y'look just like the person on screen, sweetheart," he grunts as you dart your eyes to the film, seeing the victims of the killer trapped in a basement with their arms restrained and their mouths duct taped.

what a strange movie.

he presses his body weight on your back as he drills mean thrusts deep into your pussy, his fat cock head pushing against your cervix as you drool on his fingers. you closed your eyes in fear of getting scared by the fictional killer again, but seeing your cute face all scrunched up and choking on his lanky fingers only made him thrust harder.

"shhuuuguu," you choke as he holds you down under him, his mean hips fucking you over and over again.

"gonna cum, angel? yeahh? good girl, take this dick-fuck, i was made for this fuckin sloppy pussy,"

he groans as you nod and drool, enjoying your slurry of words as he pushes his fingers deeper. you convulse and squeze around his cock, milking him until he came with a loud groan. he continues thrusting slowly even after that, letting you ride out your orgasm until he stills in your cum-fill pussy.

he takes his fingers out your mouth, popping them in his mouth to suck them before turning your face to meet his eyes. giving you a soft kiss on your lips, he carries you out your room to properly clean you up.

what a messy girl

[partiallysame]

Ghost Gets No Bitches pt. 3

Word Count: 2300

Content warnings: smut, Sub!simon, unprotected sex, P in V, this got a lil freak nasty 

(ahhhh this is my first smut im big nervous)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 2.5

Simon followed you up the stairs to your apartment, palms sweating, pants tight. The second the lock clicked and the door swung open you grabbed Simon by the belt pulling him inside, immediately leaning up against the now closed door he had to put his hands out to stop from crashing into you. Caged between his arms you tugged his shirt bringing his lips to yours. Your hands began to roam all over his defined chest while one of his gripped your hip pulling you into him. “Couch” you mumbled between kisses, barely pulling away enough to speak the word. Feet fumbling, both refusing to separate enough to look where you were going. Once the back of his calves touched the couch you pushed his chest forcing him down onto the couch, taking a moment to look at the way his pupils were dilated, chest heaving and arms reaching to bring you back to him. Lifting one leg on either side of his lap, you straddled him, lips finding their way to his neck. Leaving a wet trail of bites and kisses on his neck you began to tug at the hem of his shirt, prompting him to take it off. The moan that left your lips at his exposed torso made his grip on your thighs tighten. Simon had never been ogled like this. You were looking at him like he was a full course meal that you were going to eat and lick the plate clean. Your lips found his again, body beginning to grind onto his. His large hands pulled your dress up enough to expose your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh helping you grind onto him. The friction of his jeans on your clothed crotch had you letting little mewls in his ear. His hands began to tug a little more at your dress until you pulled away from him. 

“Use your words.” Your lips were puffy and the way you were looking at him, Simon didn’t think any coherent thoughts could come out.

“Off.” You cocked your head to the side slightly, not moving to follow his request. 

“What was that?” Your voice dripping with innocence but he knew it was anything but.

“Take this off.” You just raised your eyebrows at him. “Fuck take this off, please.” The last word came out more of a breath than an actual sound. 

“Good boy.” You pulled the dress over your head exposing the matching lingerie set you had been wearing. Fuck you were wearing this all night? Simon took a deep breath, groaning at the sight in front of him. You started to remove yourself from him but his hands slid from your thighs to your hips keeping you in place. “Just taking this to the bed, thats all.” you reassured him.

“Tell me where, love?” His grip tightened as he stood with you still attached to him, legs wrapping around his thick torso. This time his lips found your neck trailing their way across the vein there until he found a spot that made your breathing pick up. As he neared your room, your hand found its way into his hair. A hard tug at the roots of his blonde hair pulled his mouth from you and the whimper that he let out was a noise he didn’t know he could make. You moved his head to the side to give space to bite down on his neck, sucking and leaving a deep purple mark. Fuck his legs were gonna give out if you kept doing that. He walked the two of you further in until he could set you down on the bed. Leaning back onto your hands, you looked at him with hooded eyes. Simon never thought he’d get into heaven but here he was, staring at your almost naked body, sitting waiting patiently for him. “Off” your foot trailed up his thigh before putting the smallest amount of pressure on the outline of his cock over his jeans. 

“Yes Ma’am.” The words left his lips before he knew what he was saying but the phrase went straight to your core. His pants fell to the floor and you licked your lips, staring shamelessly at his fucking huge cock pressed against his stomach. 

“You know Simon,” You slid from the bed to drop to your knees in front of him, “You’ve been so good today. Do you think you deserve a reward?” Hands sliding up and down his thick thighs, feeling the way they would tighten and flex under your touch. He started to nod but stopped himself. Words Simon.

“Yes Please.” Simon Ghost Riley couldn’t remember the last time he used the word ‘please’ but here he was whimpering it for the second time. His breath was shaking as you got closer to him. Simon���s cock twitched, your breath fanned over it, but you hadn’t touched him yet. Lowering yourself so your face was centimeters away from the base of his cock, teasing him with your warm breath, lips so close to doing what he needed you to. His hands were in fists, trying so hard to keep composed, to let you tease him, to not put his hand onto your head and pull you closer. Looking up and locking eyes with him, your tongue traced a long line from the base of his cock to the tip, eliciting a long moan from him. Hands gripping the base, adjusting the angle, you took him into your mouth fully, without warning. You hummed, tasting the salty precum, the vibrations making his legs shake. His hand found its way to your hair so gently, scared to make the wrong move. Your mouth worked up and down his length, tongue pressing into the prominent vein on the underside of his cock and swirling around the tip. It only took a few seconds for his grip on your hair to tighten. He felt like a fucking teenager, about to cum this fast. 

“wait not yet” He tried to pull himself from you but you pulled the back of his thighs, cock hitting the back of your throat, you swallowed around him and he was a goner. A broken moan left him as he shot his load down your throat. Slowly removing him from your mouth, you stood up and pulled him down into a kiss, making him taste himself from your lips. You spun the two of you, hands pressing onto his chest pushing him down onto the bed.

“I’m not done with you yet, Lieutenant.” His cock twitched hearing you use his rank. Pressing into his chest until he laid flat, your legs wrapping around to straddle him again. Your hand found his jaw, gripping and moving his head slightly so your lips could brush against his ear, “the first one was your reward. But you’re going to beg for the next one.” Lowering your hips enough, Simon could feel your soaked panties slide across his already hard cock. His hands tried to slide their way up your thighs, but you gripped his wrists, pressing them above his head. “No touching without permission, Lieutenant.” He nodded and kept his hands above his head, gripping the pillow when you let go of him. You pressed your lips onto his and Simon tried to lean into you as much as possible, loving the feeling of your control over him. He let out a disappointed whine when you pulled your body from his, clothed pussy no longer dragging against his cock. A wet trail of kisses were left from his neck down to his chest, tongue swirling over his nipple, his hips bucked up involuntarily at the sensation. Your hand found his jaw again, grip tighter than the last time, “Behave.” 

“M’sorry fuck please.” His accent thick as he began to whine. 

“Please what Simon?”  You started the trail of kisses again, moving down his stomach getting so close to his cock again. 

“Please can I touch you?” His knuckles had turned white from the death grip he had on the pillow. Your lips were now hovering over the tip of his cock, teasingly you blew air over his slit and his hands shot down to you. Before they could reach you, you made a “tsk” noise and his hands found the sheets next to his thighs. You hadn’t given him permission yet. Fuck he can do this, he can be good for you. 

“Good boy.” You smirked as you moved further from his cock, nails dragging lightly up and down his muscular thighs, watching as this giant man twitched under you. Removing yourself from the bed just long enough to slide your panties down your thighs, Simon couldn’t look anywhere but at your glistening core. Straddling him again, you leaned back against his thighs, giving him the perfect view of your body and your dripping pussy. 

“Please let me touch you, please.” His hands lifted slightly trying so hard to behave for you. 

“No.” He wanted to let out a groan but the sound stopped in his throat when he watched you trail your own hand down your stomach and further down until your fingers spread your folds open, coating themselves in your slick. “Open.” It was an order and Simon oh so happily obeyed, opening his mouth as you leaned forward, pushing your wet fingers into his mouth so he could taste you. His tongue wrapped around your fingers and you bit your lip at the sight in front of you. Removing your fingers from his mouth, you slid your pussy across his painfully hard cock. How wet you were and the pressure on him had his head spinning and pleads pouring from his mouth. 

“Fuck please, need to touch you.” His eyes had started to get glossy from all the teasing.

“Go ahead Simon. Touch.” Large hands immediately found your tits, palming at them for a moment before one hand slid down to find your clit, rubbing soft circles. The moan you let out almost broke whatever resolve he had left. Lifting your body just enough, you reached down to grab his cock and line it up with your slit. You lowered yourself slightly, the tip of his cock pressing ever so slightly into you, but stopping there. “Do you want it?” Simon’s eyes were pulled from where you two were connecting to your eyes, head nodding fast. “Then beg for it.” You pulled your body up until his cock was no longer touching you and Simon had never felt more desperate in his life. 

“Fuck please. Need it. Need you Please lovie. I just… please” Hearing his gruff voice whine and beg for you made you lower yourself again but just enough to how you were, his tip barely in you. “Please please please let me make you feel good. Please use me.” Tears were threatening to spill at the feeling of your walls gripping him but knowing you could pull away at any moment. 

“You’re so good for me Simon.” You slowly slid down until he was fully sheathed in you. Your hands placed heavy on his chest, nails digging in as you tried to adjust to his massive size, eyes rolling back in your head at the sensation. Beginning to bounce at an agonizingly slow pace, his hands found your ass, wanting to urge you to speed up but knowing he’d be in trouble if he did. Fuck you’re so tight around him. Whimpers had been falling from his mouth the second you slid down on him. Bottoming out, your pussy clenched around him and he bucked his hips. Fuck he didn’t mean to. He was scared you were going to pull off of him but instead you let out a pornographic moan at the action, his cock hitting that spongy spot in you. 

“Again.” You said trying to keep control but fuck did he feel good, you were losing your grip on reality too. He thrust again and again, your hands planted firmly on his chest holding on for dear life. “Make me cum Simon.” Fuck you didn’t have to tell him twice. He brought one hand to your clit again rubbing messy circles as you bounced up and down on his cock. He could feel you tightening, he could tell you were so close. Fuck he was trying to keep his own release at bay. A few more thrusts from him and you were falling over the edge. He didn’t think you could get any tighter but the feeling of you cumming on his cock was nothing less than pure bliss. His thrusts started to get sloppy and you could tell he was getting close. One of your hands slid from his chest to his throat, hand gripping his neck with just enough pressure to capture his attention. “I told you, you’re gonna have to beg for this one.” You slid off of him slightly, once again only keeping his tip inside of your velvet walls, backing up your statement. Not letting him get too close without following your orders. 

“Please fuck please I’ve been so good. Been a good boy.” His cock could feel you tighten around him, clearly liking the way he was begging. “Let me be your good boy. Fill you up. Please, please please.” The ‘please’s continued as you sunk back down onto him. Leaning down to whisper in his ear. 

“Fill me up then.” Moving back to look at his fucked out face, Simon pulled you into a messy kiss, needing to feel your lips on his, a few final thrusts he emptied his load in you with the most pathetic sounding moan of his life.

He could never tell the 141 about this.

Tag list: @zoexme @booboobear-12 @pileofmoss77 @monnikashui018 @jovialwerewolfarcade

[hellokittyish]

part one here.

★ thinking about mutual masturbation on facetime with ex!satoru which starts off with you just staring at him in some sort of daze, wondering what on earth possessed you to pick up the call in the first place. this is a mistake, you know that... so why aren't you hanging up already?

but before you can dwell too long on the answer to that question, your train of thought is rudely interrupted by a particularly loud moan echoing through the speaker.

“mmh… you actually didn’t decline for once," the white-haired menace gasps out, the slick sounds of his hand gliding up and down his cock only picking up in volume as he lays eyes on you. “shit— you don't know how much i've missed seein’ that pretty face of yours, baby.”

“you’re so shameless, satoru.” you mutter, lacing your tone with as much disdain as you can muster; but the way your own hand somehow snakes its way beneath the waistband of your sweatpants and into your panties tells an entirely different tale of how this whole situation is really making you feel.

“yeah,” he muses in an unapologetic hum, making a show of tilting the camera down to give you a better view of where he's currently thumbing his leaky, blushing tip. “but… ah— so are you, otherwise you would’ve blocked my new number the second i sent you that dick pic.”

“w-well how do you know i wasn't about to press the block button right when you called me and i accidentally clicked accept instead?” you shoot back through teeth which are clenched partly in annoyance and partly in an effort to hold back letting your own pleasure show on your face.

“nah, don’t give me that bullshit,” satoru snorts amusedly, leaning in closer to the screen and tilting his head to the side, snowy lashes fluttering seductively as his bright eyes stare knowingly into yours. “if you’re not enjoying this, then i want you to show me that your hands aren’t in your pants right now rubbing that pretty little pussy.”

shit. of course he'd be able to see through you that easily — he is your ex, after all. but no... you can’t let him win just yet. so, as subtly as possible, you pull your hand from your panties and hold it up to the phone screen, hoping against hope that the darkness of your room hides the wetness of your palm.

“hah. nice try, baby,” he drawls smugly, smiling so wide now that both of his annoyingly cute dimples are on full display; and it’s deliberate, too. he knows full well they were always your weakness. “...but i can see your sweet juices coating those cute fingers from here.”

and he knows he has you right where he wants you when you still don't hang up the call like you both know you should, instead just shoving your hand right back into your panties and rubbing messy circles over your clit while keeping direct eye-contact with him — trying to beat him at his own game, are you? oh, how he's missed you.

so he picks up the pace of his jostling fist around his cock, candy-pink lower lip caught between his pearly teeth as he tries to catch even a small glimpse of your bare skin through the screen; and god, only you could make him act this pathetic, this desperate. "fuck... please, pretty, y'gotta give me something to work with here. h-how about you pull your top up just a little for toru, hm?"

and you've already let this escalate too far to back out now, so you decide to throw caution to the wind and tug at the edge of your oversized tee just enough so that your bare tits spring free, courtesy to your preference for not wearing a bra around your apartment.

"o-oh, just look at those. i missed my girls s'much. bet you wish they were in my mouth right now, huh?" satoru rasps out, balls tightening to an almost painful degree as he reaches down to pay the heavy, neglected sacs some attention by gently fondling them.

and you, having finally caved and slid a finger into your fluttering hole, can only respond with a soft whine as you reach up to knead a breast with your free hand, the image of his skilled mouth suckling on them like he always used to making your much-too-empty cunt clench around your digit with need.

and that singular sweet, sweet sound from your lips that he's been deprived of hearing for months is all it takes for him to finally bust a load all over his chest and hand, goopy white streaks tainting his previously unmarred pale skin as his entire body trembles with a pleasure only you can give him.

and when he eventually manages to compose himself enough to glance back down at the facetime and realize that you're still trying to reach your own climax, your meek little fingers clearly not enough to finish the job, satoru has the absolute audacity to lean right in close to the screen and mutter out a cheeky…

“hey, if y'want me to come over and help you with that then all you gotta do is agree to get back together with me, baby.”

taglist: @haruhatake @sheismaryy @jxeon @bonneyzsk @yozora7154 @depositodeporradogojo @ifyournameischoisanpleaseloveme @anthy-j-ander @sugarcoatedsoul @moncher-ire @fwxyz00 @trishiepo0 @just-lilita @beenathembo @channnee @tul1ps1 @awoodsysimp411 @vera4luv @silllly-jokesterr @mastermasterlist1p1 @yourfaveava @rllyobsessedgirlie @cherrycel @tomiokas-lunchbox @iwaizumisloverrr @citruswriter @jasminelee324 @kocho-catt @azewritessillystuff @suggestmename @greentea-ellie @banksxxnik @feelingtoosilly @nepotti @nonamevenus @barking4dogs-fy @mihoonz @crazytrash @phoenixflames498 @starlightmid @k0z3me @cakenpiewhyohmy @wh1msycal @resfrio @ersharyzst @loveyislost @supernovacoffeestop @ying47

[leona-hawthorne]

LEONA-HAWTHORNE’S FICMAS

december 7th. mattheo riddle — love potion.

mattheo riddle x reader

summary ; when he’s all over you after a love potion gone wrong… aka pussydrunk!mattheo words ; 3.3k warnings ; smut, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, kissing, nipple sucking, swearing

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You barely registered the weight of him collapsing onto the worn leather couch beside you before his hands were reaching for yours, clumsy and sure all at once. His curls were wild, his tie hanging loose around his neck, and his eyes—merlin, his eyes—were soft and unfocused, tracing your face like he was committing every detail to memory.

“You smell so good,” he murmured, his voice thick and honey-slow, like the words had been dipped in sugar. His nose brushed the side of your neck as he leaned in closer, the faint scent of chocolate and cedar lingering on his skin. “Like… I don’t even know. Just you.”

You froze, heat flooding your cheeks as you tried to process what the hell was happening. “Mattheo, are you drunk?”

He pulled back slightly, blinking at you with an almost childlike confusion, his lips curving into a crooked grin. “Not drunk,” he whispered. “Just…completely, utterly—” He sighed dreamily, his head falling against your shoulder. “Gone for you.”

Your book slipped from your lap, thudding against the floor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You stared down at him, utterly bewildered, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck with a contented hum.

This was not normal. Mattheo didn’t do dreamy or loopy or any of this. He was sharp edges and biting sarcasm, a bundle of contradictions wrapped in leather and cigarette smoke. And yet, here he was, clinging to you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

It wasn’t until his fingers began absentmindedly tracing patterns on your knee that the pieces clicked into place.

It started two days ago, in Slughorn’s Potions class. Extra credit was practically a lifeline for you, so when he’d offered it for creating “innovative applications of potion theory,” you’d jumped at the chance. The result? A batch of chocolate truffles laced with a mild love potion—just strong enough to evoke fondness and infatuation in the eater. Slughorn had been delighted, declaring your concoction “a stroke of brilliance.” 

But the love potion had a catch: it required a strand of DNA from the intended target to work. In this case, your own hair had made its way into the mix.

You’d left the chocolates on Slughorn’s desk after class, only to find them gone by the next morning. At the time, you hadn’t thought much of it. But now…

“Mattheo,” you said slowly, trying to untangle yourself from his grip. “Did you eat any chocolate recently?”

He looked up at you, his brown eyes shining with unrestrained affection. “Mmm, yeah. Some girl gave them to me. Said they were a gift.”

Of course. Of bloody course.

You sighed, gently prying his hands off you as he pouted. “Mattheo, those weren’t for you. They were part of an assignment, and—”

“Doesn’t matter,” he interrupted, his voice a low murmur. His hand found yours again, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Your heart did an embarrassing little flip at the sincerity in his voice, but you shoved it aside. This wasn’t real—it couldn’t be. It was just the potion talking.

“Mattheo, listen to me,” you said firmly, meeting his gaze. “This isn’t you. It’s the potion. It’ll wear off in a few hours, and then you’ll—”

“No,” he said softly, cutting you off again. “It’s not just the potion.”

Your breath caught. “What?”

His hand slid down to rest just below the hem of your skirt, and his face inched closer, his lips brushing your ear.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, the words tumbling from his lips as though they’d been locked in his chest, yearning to escape. His voice was low, reverent, thick with desire. “I—I’ve always wanted… this.”  

Before you could respond, his mouth claimed yours in a searing kiss, urgent and consuming, like a man starving for his first taste of salvation. His lips moved against yours with fervent precision, soft yet commanding, coaxing a needy whimper from deep in your throat.  

You melted into him, your arms curling around his neck as he deepened the kiss. His tongue swept into your mouth, tangling with yours in a sensual, desperate dance that left you breathless. When he nipped at your lower lip, the sting was fleeting, soothed instantly by a gentle, teasing lick before he plunged back into the kiss.  

His hands roamed over you, slow yet deliberate, mapping every curve with a reverence that made your heart race. Fingers glided down the line of your spine, dipping beneath your shirt to stroke the bare skin at the small of your back. His touch was electric, each graze igniting sparks that radiated through your body. When his hands slid lower, palming your hips, you gasped softly, arching into him instinctively.  

The kiss broke only for his lips to blaze a trail down your neck, nibbling and sucking at the delicate skin there, leaving behind faint marks that bloomed like fire beneath his touch. He moved to your jaw, his mouth brushing over the sensitive ridge with maddening gentleness, only to return to the hollow of your throat, where he lingered, his warm breath sending shivers through you.  

As his hands slipped beneath your shirt, pushing it upward with quiet urgency, the soft swells of your breasts were bared to his smoldering gaze. He paused, drinking in the sight with an expression so raw and unguarded it made your knees weak.  

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous,” he muttered hoarsely before diving in. His lips closed around one hardened peak, his tongue swirling in slow circles as he suckled. A soft moan escaped you, your back arching into him as your fingers found their way into his curls, tugging gently.  

His free hand cupped your other breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive underside before teasing the nipple, his touch so light and precise it sent jolts of pleasure racing through you.

“Mattheo…” you breathed, your voice trembling, thick with desire. His name was a plea, a confession, a surrender. You could feel the press of his body against yours—the hard, unyielding planes of his chest and abdomen in stark, tantalizing contrast to the softness of your curves.  

He released your nipple with a wet pop, his dark eyes locking onto yours as he shifted to lavish the same attention on the other side. You bit your lip, desperate to stifle the moan threatening to spill from you as your hips instinctively rocked against him, seeking relief from the mounting ache between your thighs.  

When his lips finally left your skin, you felt bereft, aching for the contact he had so willingly given. Driven by need, you tried to climb into his lap, but Mattheo’s hands stopped you, firm but gentle, one resting on your hip, the other cradling your cheek.  

“Wait,” he murmured, his voice thick, rough with restraint. “Let me…”  

With that, he sank to his knees before you, his hands sliding up your thighs with agonizing slowness, brushing the hem of your skirt higher until his thumbs grazed the waistband of your panties. His gaze burned into you, his voice low and rasping when he spoke. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he said, his warm breath fanning over your skin. “I’m yours to command.”  

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a jolt of heat pooling low in your belly. Your fingers found his curls again, tugging lightly, guiding him closer as a teasing smile curved your lips.  

“Took you long enough to realize that,” you teased, your voice soft, edged with playful defiance.  

Mattheo chuckled, a low, wicked sound that vibrated against your inner thigh. “Patience has never been my virtue,” he admitted, his words muffled against your skin as he peppered slow, lingering kisses along your thighs.  

His face nuzzled against you, his nose brushing the dampened fabric of your underwear as he inhaled deeply, savoring you. Then his tongue flattened against the cloth, dragging torturously slowly over the heat of you, the thin barrier between you doing nothing to muffle the sensation.  

“Fuck,” you whispered, hips tilting forward in silent, desperate encouragement.  

Mattheo obliged, his lips closing over you as he sucked gently at your puffy lips through the fabric. Then he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, dragging the thin fabric down your legs in a torturously slow motion that made your pulse race.  

Once you were completely bare before him, his hungry gaze roamed over your glistening folds, before he spread you open with two fingers, exposing your slick, swollen flesh. He leaned in, dragging his tongue along your slit in a slow, languid stroke that tore a whimper from your lips.  

“Fuck,” he murmured against your trembling skin, his voice thick and husky. “You taste even better than I imagined.”  

He didn’t wait for a response, diving back in with reckless abandon. His tongue circled your clit with maddening precision, alternating between feather-light flicks and firm, deliberate pressure that had you gasping his name like a prayer.  

“Mattheo… oh gods…” you choked out, your fingers tangling in his curls, tugging sharply as he worked you into a frenzy. His hands gripped your thighs, his strong fingers sinking into the supple flesh as he maneuvered your legs over his broad shoulders.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he growled between kisses, his breath hot against your drenched core. “Such a sweet little cunt.”  

His tongue plunged into you without warning, fucking your tight, clenching heat in a rhythm that matched the frantic pounding of your heart.  

“Faster… please,” you begged, your voice a broken plea as you ground your hips against his face, chasing the release that loomed just out of reach.  

Mattheo growled his approval, his hands tightening on your thighs as he obeyed, doubling his efforts. His tongue moved with punishing speed, thrusting in and out of your dripping heat while his nose brushed against your swollen clit, each movement pushing you closer to the precipice.  

When his lips closed around your clit with brutal intensity, the coil inside you snapped. Your orgasm ripped through you like a violent storm, shattering you into a million pieces as your body convulsed in pure ecstasy. 

Mattheo didn’t stop. Even as you trembled and bucked against him, he continued his assault, his mouth and tongue relentless as they dragged every last aftershock from your trembling body. His lips and chin were drenched in your essence, and the musky, heady scent of your arousal seemed to drive him into a frenzy.  

He angled his head, delving deeper with his tongue, his strokes long and firm as if determined to wring every ounce of pleasure from you. His grip on your thighs tightened, the bruising pressure grounding you as your body jerked and twitched uncontrollably.  

You let out a choked sob, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as the overwhelming sensations pushed you further. It was too much, yet somehow not enough—everything you needed, all at once, leaving you raw and undone beneath his unrelenting touch.  

“Can’t get enough of you,” he rasped, his voice muffled and rough.

The world blurred around the edges, your vision hazy and your body trembling uncontrollably. All that existed was Mattheo—his mouth, his hands, and the electric firestorm of sensation he’d ignited in you.  

Mattheo groaned deeply, the sound reverberating against your sensitive flesh and sending another jolt of pleasure through your overstimulated body.  His fingers dug into the plush flesh of your inner thighs, spreading you even wider, holding you open for his devouring mouth. His tongue curled around your swollen bud, flicking and sucking with a desperate intensity, while his other hand slid lower. Two fingers pressed against your entrance, teasing for the briefest moment before plunging into you to the knuckle.  

The stretch was delicious, a perfect complement to the maddening rhythm of his mouth. Your moans spilled freely, loud and desperate, your voice cracking as you gasped for air. “Fuck! Please, I can’t—” you wailed, trying to close your thighs, your hands tugging weakly at his head in a futile attempt to create distance.  

Mattheo growled against your core, his grip unyielding as he anchored you in place. “Oh, yes, you can,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust and determination, his breath hot against your drenched folds. “And you will.”  

Lost in the intoxicating taste of you, he buried himself even deeper, his fingers curling upward, dragging against your inner walls in a way that made your entire body quake.  

“Mattheo!” you whined, your voice hoarse as the pressure built rapidly, coiling impossibly tight in your belly. He felt the way your walls clenched around his fingers, the desperate flutter signaling your impending release, and he doubled down.  

The dual stimulation proved too much to withstand. Your climax hit you like a lightning strike, blinding and all-consuming, your pussy gripping his fingers with an almost punishing force.

Mattheo groaned again, savoring every shudder, every broken whimper that spilled from your lips. He drank you in like a man starved, his tongue lapping up your release as though it were a precious elixir. His own cock throbbed painfully against the rough confines of his jeans, the ache only spurring him to continue.  

Even as your orgasm began to ebb, Mattheo didn’t relent. His fingers kept pumping into your fluttering heat, coaxing out every last ripple of pleasure while his lips sealed around your clit. He suckled greedily, tongue swirling in slow, deliberate circles that had your oversensitive body twitching uncontrollably.  

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he muttered against your soaked skin, his voice ragged but reverent. He didn’t care that his breath came in short, uneven pants; the sheer need to taste more of you consumed him.  

Your hands clutched weakly at his hair, trying to tug him away, but Mattheo was lost to the haze of lust and obsession. He couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop, not until you were utterly spent, until your body was reduced to a limp, satisfied puddle beneath him.  

He drove his fingers deeper, angling them to hit that sensitive spot inside you that made your legs jerk and your cries escalate into desperate, breathless sobs.

“Mattheo… too much…” you gasped, your voice trembling, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you teetered on the edge of unbearable pleasure.  

He merely hummed in response, the vibrations dragging you into another devastating high. Your release hit with even greater intensity, your body wracked with shuddering spasms as he milked you of every last ounce of bliss.  

Even then, Mattheo didn’t let up. He licked and sucked at your oversensitive flesh, devouring you with single-minded determination, his face and chin slick with your arousal.

His face was a picture of unrestrained lust and satisfaction, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a wicked gleam. “I’m not done with you yet,” he said, his voice dripping with promise, his lips curling into a sinful smirk as he leaned in for more.  

Your body felt utterly boneless, every nerve alight and trembling as Mattheo continued his merciless assault. Pleasure and exhaustion warred within you, your mind a haze as you struggled to grasp the sheer force of your release. He’d unraveled you completely, pulling sensations from depths you hadn’t known existed.  

Tears streaked your flushed cheeks, your hips rolling involuntarily, a primal search for friction despite the screaming protest of your muscles.  

"Mattheo... I can't," you choked out, your voice barely more than a breathless whimper, trembling with raw vulnerability. But he didn’t stop—he didn’t even falter.  

“Can’t stop,” Mattheo growled, his voice guttural, almost feral, as his tongue flicked over your swollen clit. “You’re too fuckin’ sweet. I’m not done. Just give me one more.”

“Please,” you whimpered, though your body betrayed you, arching into his mouth as his lips sealed around your sensitive bud once more.

His movements became messy, wild, every lick and suck driven by pure, unrestrained hunger. The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth working against your soaked sex filled the air, mingling with the raw cries spilling from your lips.  

His free hand slid upward, cupping your breast through your clothes, kneading it with rough, possessive squeezes that bordered on desperation.

The ache in his jeans was unbearable now, pre-cum soaking the denim as his cock throbbed with every moan, every tremor of your body beneath him. Yet Mattheo didn’t stop to ease his own suffering—he was consumed by you, intoxicated by the heady scent of your arousal and the way your body responded to him.  

“Mattheo,” you sobbed, nails tearing into the cushion beneath you as you fought to anchor yourself. But there was no escape from the storm he’d unleashed.  

The tension inside you snapped violently, and your fourth orgasm tore through you like a tidal wave, stealing the very air from your lungs. Your back arched off the couch, lips parted in a silent scream as pleasure consumed you utterly.   

When he finally pulled away, your body slumped against the cushions, utterly spent and quivering. His chest heaved as he looked down at you, his lips and chin glistening with evidence of his unrelenting hunger.  

A string of saliva clung to his swollen lips, connecting them to your slick folds as he licked his mouth clean with a satisfied hum. His dark, fevered gaze roamed your form, taking in the sight of your flushed skin, tear-streaked cheeks, and trembling thighs.  

Mattheo looked utterly primal, his expression a perfect blend of satisfaction and raw, unbridled desire. But as his eyes dipped to the insistent bulge straining against his jeans, it was clear your night was far from over. 

​​ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind @revesephemeres @esmerai-artemis @clar2aa @iamaconfusedpan

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

[s0dium]

𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑!!!

𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐱 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d find out that your crush, Geto Suguru, was just like you: a murderer. Not only that but you share the same passion; killing criminals and pedophiles! (Happy Kinktober) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: DARK CONTENT, gore, mutilation, murder, mentions of pedophiles (y/n kills them), serial killing, unprotected sex, breeding, choking, teasing, knife play, whipped Suguru 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k 𝐀/𝐧: This is based HEAVILY on the novel Butcher and Blackbird by Brynne Weaver. The original idea is credited to Brynne Weaver ONLY. This work is fan fiction and is not intended for commercial purposes or to infringe on the intellectual property rights of the original author.

Being a serial killer who kills other killers, pedophiles, and rapists is a great hobby.

Until you find yourself locked in a cage.

For three days.

No AC.

With a body you carved up.

You glare at the fly-riddled corpse whose legs are kneeling opposite of you in the locked cage you were both trapped in. The air is thick with the putrid stench of decay, a relentless assault on your senses. The body's skin is pallid, marred by the writhing mass of white maggots that feast mercilessly. Where eyes once held gaze, now only hollow sockets remain, tediously scooped out and vacant. The ears too have been sheared off, leaving clean edges that blend into the mottled, blood-stained flesh. Its chest has been cracked open; ribs pried apart in a macabre mimicry of an unhinged broken cocoon, revealing the dark, empty cavity where a heart once beat.

Then, of course, the piste de resistance of your work, the removed eyes, ears, and heart rest in the corpse's upturned palms—placed with ceremonial care amidst the chaos of mutilation.

So now, if anyone were to walk down the steps of Gary Green House's basement, they would not only find his mutilated body, but the person who did it, trapped in a cage together.

"Fuck." You curse at yourself for the millionth time since you've been trapped here for the last three days. The cold realization that you've fallen into Gary’s final trap gnaws at your mind as relentlessly as the maggots at the corpse across from you. The cage, a cruel relic of Gary’s twisted pleasures, had seemed the perfect place for your ritual—turning the hunter into the hunted in his own den of horrors. But in your fervor to see him pay, you overlooked one crucial detail: the cage's sinister design, which sealed shut the moment its door swung closed.

The remote control, now a mocking symbol of freedom, lies just beyond the bars, on a small, grimy table. You remember the sickening click of the lock, the finality of it echoing in the cramped space as you turned back from the grisly task of dismembering Gary—his last, silent victory.

Even the idiot police could deduce that this was all your doing, seeing as all your bloody tools were still with you in your backpack. With fingerprints. It was just a matter of time before they opened the basement door.

You could practically hear Gary’s voice from beyond the grave: "Hah! Serves you right, you stupid bitch! That's what you get for killing me!" The taunt echoes in your head like a song over and over again and you're seriously contemplating banging your head against the iron bars.

"FUCK FINE!" You yell into the darkness. "I renounce my wicked ways!"

"That's a shame. I bet I would like your wicked ways."

You jump at the sound of a man's deep, smooth voice, the cadence of slight raspiness warming every note. Your curses cut the humid air from the startlement of the man's presence. How the hell did he even get in here? You didn't hear the basement door open. You scurry out of reach of the man who saunters into the thin thread of light from the narrow window, the glass opaque with fly shit.

"You seem to be in a predicament." He says stepping into view. The thin light from the window partially illuminates him, allowing you to make out his face. Oh rather, what is on his face.

Holy shit.

A ghost mask stares back at you, its hollow eyes and elongated mouth frozen in a chilling scream. The stark white of the mask contrasts sharply with the surrounding shadows, and you watch with wide eyes as he tilts his head.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

In any other situation, you might be fan-girling. You know exactly who you're staring at: the infamous Crucifer, a killer, like you, but notorious for his crucifixion of criminals in rather, flamboyant displays. The few eyewitness accounts of the Crucifer all mention the ghost mask, leaving no doubt in your mind about his identity.

While your hunting grounds have been Osaka, his have typically been Tokyo, but despite the geographical difference, his reputation precedes him. In all honesty, you shouldn’t be surprised he’s here. Your victim, Gary Greenwich, is notorious even among the authorities. Despite his crimes, the lack of solid evidence has always allowed him to slip through the cracks of the justice system, leaving him free to continue his heinous activities. He was high on your kill list, and it’s no surprise he was high on Crucifers as well.

He takes a few steps closer toward the cage to stare down at the corpse, bending to take a closer look.

"Well what happened here?" He chuckles.

You are on day three of no food. No water. The gnawing hunger in your stomach feels like a relentless beast, clawing at your insides with increasing ferocity. You wonder if your body has started to eat its own organs at this point.

You can't deal with this shit.

"Self defense." You say.

The man chuckles. "I doubt that, you're not his type." Despite his mask you can feel his eyes shift from the corpse to linger on you.

"And how would you know that?"

"Well disregarding the state in which you "self defense" left him, you're not a 6 year old boy. And," he steps closer so now he is inches away from the bars and his whole body is illuminated. "I make it my business to know."

You don't answer. Instead you watch as he crouches down to meet your gaze. You try to hide behind your tangled hair and folded limbs, giving him only your eyes.

And of course, just your luck, he is stunning

Black hair flows behind his mask and down his shoulder. He's wearing a black compression shirt that hugs every muscle of his biceps and forearms, accentuating his athletic build. His broad shoulders enhance his imposing presence, giving him the aura of a seasoned athlete. Black cargo pants complete his ensemble, practical and intimidating, with a hunting knife sticking out of his pocket, probably what he would've used on Gary if you hadn't got to him first.

Something about him looks familiar, something you can't put your finger on.

"I guess you made it your business to know too." He pauses before moving even closer so his mask is practically pressed against the iron bars. "Hey, you look pretty familiar."

You shift uncomfortably, feeling the prickle of anxiety creeping up your spine. Instinctively, you brush a tangled lock of hair from your face, wincing as it catches on your dry lips. The man's shoulders tense as if he has been electrocuted.

"Y/n?" His voice cuts through the thick silence like a knife.

Oh, what the hell.

You jerk your head up from your hunched posture, eyes wide in shock, meeting the unsettling, hollow eyes of the ghost mask. Your heart races, pounding loudly in your chest.

"Wha-"

"Oh my god, it is you!" He exclaims, his loud deep voice echoing through the basement.

"I'm sorry, I don't-" you stammer, confusion and fear knotting in your stomach.

"It's me," he interrupts, and with a swift motion, he takes off his mask. The sight of his familiar face makes your breath catch in your throat. "Suguru Geto."

Suguru Geto. The name alone sent ripples through your thoughts, dragging along memories and emotions you had long buried. Suguru wasn’t just any ordinary guy; he was a micro-celebrity in Tokyo, renowned for his breathtaking tattoo artistry. His ink adorned the bodies of celebrities, flaunted in TikToks and Instagram posts that garnered thousands of likes. His reputation was impeccable, his designs sought after by the elite.

You had crossed paths with Suguru a few times at various parties, your social circles occasionally overlapping due to mutual friends. Each encounter left an indelible mark on you. His presence was magnetic, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. It wasn’t just his talent that made him irresistible; it was everything about him. Those hawk-like eyes that seemed to pierce through to your very soul, the perfect curve of his lips that could shift from a smirk to a genuine smile in an instant, and those dimples that appeared whenever he graced you with that smile—each feature was a weapon, effortlessly disarming.

You, like many other girls, harbored a secret crush on Suguru Geto. It was impossible not to. That face alone could kill, and his charisma was the final blow.

And now, here he was, standing right in front of you, unmasked and undeniably real. The reality of it all hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and a little overwhelmed.

Suguru clears his throat, a small smirk playing on his lips from how obviously you are gawking at him.

"Shot in the dark here but are you the Mute Collector?"

You part your lips to say something but you can't seem to form the right words.

"I-"

Suguru's grin widens and a sharp laugh escapes his perfect mouth. "Oh my god. I knew it. I fucking knew they had it wrong about you with that bull shit profile they built. What was it, they said you were a 30 year old white man?" Suguru throws his head back and smiles at the ceiling. "And the Mute Collector? You? That's just awesome. I'm such a huge fan."

"Yeah..." You clear your throat and push your hair completely out of your face. He grins at you, as though awe struck, and if you weren't wearing 100 layers of grime on your skin you are sure he'd be able to see the blush flaming in your cheeks for a second.

"And you?" You nod toward the mask. "You are?" You don't know why you are feigning ignorance but something about humbling him seems tastier than actual food right now.

"Oh come on." Suguru's tone flattens and he brings the mask up next to his face.

"The Crucifer?"

You shake your head.

"The cross maker?"

You shake your head again. Lying through your teeth is fun.

"The Tokyo Butcher?" When you shake your head he sighs and stands up. "Well," he glances to Gary whose maggots have made their way to the empty eye sockets. "What do you say? We ditch this lousy scene and get something to eat. Maybe when you get food in your stomach you will remember some of my little nicknames."

Your eyes widen and your stomach growls loudly, reminding you of how long it's been since you last ate. You glance up at your Suguru, a mix of hope and suspicion in your gaze.

"Are you serious?" you ask, your voice hoarse from dehydration.

"Yeah, after we get you a shower, some clothes and burn the house down."

You gulp and stand to your feet. "Could we get burgers?"

Suguru grins before grabbing the remote and pointing it at the cage.

"Fine by me."

~

The Mute Collector.

Geto Suguru is sitting across from the fucking Mute Collector.

And god you are beautiful.

Not that he just realized it now. Like many others, he has always known how attractive you are; he just pushed it to the back of his mind. But now, knowing who you really are and what you do in your free time, your body has practically been encompassed in bright warm light and your head adorned with a halo. He watches as you down your 6th cup of water with a sigh and wipe your mouth with your sleeve.

The two of you sit in a cozy booth at a restaurant, the warm, smoky aroma filling the air. Suguru leans back with a beer in hand, watching you with a mix of amusement and caution. The waitress approaches, placing a large plate with a double cheeseburger and fries in front of you. Your eyes light up, and without wasting a second, you pick up the cheeseburger with your fingers and take a big bite, savoring the flavors.

Suguru chuckles, raising his beer in a mock toast. "You look like you've just found the Holy Grail."

He doesn't miss the way you stifle back a laugh, trying to speak through a mouthful of burger. "If the Holy Grail were covered in cheese and ketchup, then yeah, maybe."

He takes a sip of his beer, grinning. "I’ve never seen someone so excited about food. Maybe you should give up your little hobby and do food reviews."

"Well, that's what being trapped in a cage with the rotting corpse of a pedophile does to you I guess." You grumble, setting down the burger and taking another drink of water.

Suguru's eyes stay on you, and he takes the opportunity to really assess you. Your hair is damp, and the wetness seeps into the white Mickey Mouse shirt you're wearing, causing it to cling slightly to your skin and reveal the elegant lines of your collarbone. He bought that shirt and the shorts for you at a thrift store, and despite the fact that such clothes should look bad on anyone, you are rocking them effortlessly.

He can't help but notice that you didn't buy a bra, a fact that makes him smile to himself.

No bra.

"So tell me." Suguru sets his beer back on the table and leans in.

"The whole ears, eyes and heart thing." He waves his left hand in the air. "The police say it's satanic ritual stuff but I don't buy it."

You pause, a hint of a smile playing at your lips as you meet his gaze. "It's simple, really. Hear no evil, see no evil, fear no evil."

Suguru raises an eyebrow. "You have a way of making the macabre sound poetic."

You're about to reach for a fry, but he snatches it before your fingers could reach it.

"Why not the tongue?" He says. "You know, speak no evil."

You roll your eyes and snatch the fry out of his fingers. "Tongues are hard to cut, too slippery and make a mess."

He nods thoughtfully, leaning back in his seat. "You know, most people would be horrified to hear you talk like that."

"Good thing you’re not most people," you reply with a smirk.

"Touché."

He watches as your lips wrap around the thick fry and your teeth rip off half of it into your mouth.

No bra.

"What about you Suguru?" You lock eyes with him. "Why are you here?"

"Why am I here?"

"You heard me. You swoop in all superman-like, save me from the dipshit’s pedo dungeon and take me out for a double cheeseburger. Why are you here?"

Suguru shrugs and averts his gaze from your unyielding stare. Shit, your piercing eyes are almost making him sweat.

"Same thing you already did. I was going to skin him alive and and display the fucking monkey Jesus style infront of his house. At least, something like that."

"Yeah but why him? I thought your hunting grounds were in Tokyo?"

Your eyes widen slightly as the words hang in the air, the weight of your mistake sinking in immediately. You feel a rush of heat to your cheeks, a telltale sign of your embarrassment. Your lips part as if to take back the words, but it's too late; they've already been spoken.

A sly smile spreads across Sugurus face as he watches your face fall.

"Oh you totally know who I am Y/n."

"Fucking hell."

"You do! You know that I like to hunt near my home, how long have you been a part of my fan club?"

You roll your eyes and fall back into your seat. You blink rapidly, trying to maintain your composure, but the subtle tension in your jaw and the furrowing of your brow betray your embarrassment.

"So which one was your favorite? The monkey I strung up next to the police station? Or the one I flayed inside the Tokyo Union Church?"

"Oh my god I can already tell you are going to be insufferable." You grumble, the heat of embarrassment slowly dissipating as you take a deep breath. Suguru leans back, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he swirls the beer in his hand, watching you with an almost predatory curiosity. As seconds pass, Suguru assesses your face, following how your eyes dart around the room, searching for an escape route, and Suguru’s playful expression falters for a split second. He realizes with a sudden jolt that you're trying to leave. He can't have that. He needs to see you again.

"Hey speaking of suffering," Suguru clears his throat. "Have you heard about the women killings in Kyoto?"

Your eyebrows raise, curiosity piqued. "Yeah, I've heard. Pretty gruesome stuff. Why do you ask?"

A playful smile tugs at his lips. "How about a friendly competition? The killer's already taken six lives so far."

You tilt your head, your eyes narrowing slightly as you try to decipher his intentions. "What do you mean by a competition?"

Suguru leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "That's exactly what it sounds like. Who can hunt him down first?"

For a moment, you're taken aback, your eyes widening as you process his proposal. A mix of surprise and intrigue flickers across your face. "Are you serious?"

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your reaction. "As sin."

"And what do we get if we win?"

Suguru's eyes gleam with amusement and something else—admiration. "Bragging rights, of course. And maybe... another dinner like this one."

You throw your head back and let out a laugh. "Oh yeah? Who says I'll need you to get me another dinner?"

"Can't let you go hungry again. What do you say?”

~

You sit at your desk, the dim light of your laptop casting a pale glow on your face as you scroll through articles about the woman killer from Kyoto. The room is quiet, save for the occasional click of your mouse and the hum of the laptop. Your phone buzzes, and you glance at the screen to see Shoko’s name. With a smile, you answer the call.

"Hey Shoko, how’s your night shift?" you greet her with a teasing tone.

Shoko’s laugh crackles through the speaker. "Busy as always. Just patched up a guy who thought he could outsmart a bulletproof vest with sheer willpower. Spoiler: he couldn’t."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Sounds like my type of guy."

By day, Shoko is your best friend and a dedicated med student, excelling in her studies with a, albeit, half hearted, passion for helping others. But when the sun sets, she transforms into the notorious Dr. Reverse, the underground doctor every criminal and lowlife turns to in their time of need. Using her medical expertise, she serves those who cannot seek help through legal means, operating in the shadows and patching up criminals who live by a different set of rules. In addition to her medical skills, she also deals in poisons, further cementing her reputation in the underworld.

You first met Shoko in a moment of desperation. After cornering a serial rapist, you were attacked with a machete, almost severing your arm. With nowhere else to turn, you sought out Dr. Reverse. Shoko skillfully sewed you up and, in the process, deduced that you were the infamous Mute Collector. To your surprise, she didn't seem to care about your identity, and you, in turn, didn't question her underground business or her dealings with poison. This mutual understanding and acceptance laid the foundation for a strong bond, and you've been best friends ever since. 

Shoko laughed, a sound that always manages to lift your spirits. "Right? Anyway, what's up? I saw your SOS text."

You hesitate, glancing at the photo of Geto Suguru on your screen on a separate tab. His annoyingly white teeth glare back at you, and you try to resist staring at his six pack in an instagram photo someone took of him at a pool party.  His dark eyes seemed to stare right through you, as if mocking your indecision. "It's about Geto."

There was a brief pause before Shoko's voice came back, tinged with curiosity. "Geto? What about him?"

You take a deep breath, your fingers drumming nervously on the desk. "He's the Crucifier."

Shoko's reaction was immediate and loud. "Geto is what?" she practically yelled through the phone, causing you to wince.

"The Crucifier. I know." You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of it all. "Can you believe it?"

Shoko let out a low whistle. "Wow. I mean, he always seemed like a guy with secrets, but I never pegged him for a serial killer, I mean, someone like you."

"Yeah, well, here we are," You mutter, rubbing your temples. You focus your attention back on your computer screen. Suguru is squeaky clean, not even a bad review on his website. There was only his questionable taste in best friends: Gojo Satoru—the biggest playboy and the infamous heir to the Gojo Company, Japan's largest and most influential corporation. Gojo's notoriety was legendary, his exploits plastered across tabloids and whispered in gossip circles. You’ve met, and been hit on by the man a few times, and not once did you fall for any of his slimy cheap antics. No, Geto Suguru is who your eyes fell on. 

 "And now he’s proposed some sort of competition."

"A competition?" Shoko's voice was practically dripping with amusement. "Like a hunting competition?”

You let out a snort of air through your nose. “Basically.”

Are you gonna do it?"

"I don't know," You admit, leaning forward and resting your chin on your hand. "I said I would, but I don't know. I barely know the guy. Well, I thought I did."

"Well, you should," Shoko said, her tone shifting to one of gentle teasing. "Besides, isn't this your chance to get closer to your crush?"

You feel your cheeks flush. "Shoko, seriously? Come on, that was ages ago."

"Hey, I'm just saying," she replies, laughter bubbling up again. "This could be your big break."

"You're impossible," you grumble, though you can't help but smile. "How's the side business, by the way?"

"Thriving," she says and you can practically see her small smile through the phone.. "You'd be amazed at how many people need a little untraceable something for their enemies."

"I don't doubt it," you say, shaking your head. "Just stay safe, okay?"

"You too, Mute Collector," Shoko says, her voice softening slightly. "And remember, if you ever need anything, you know where to find me."

"Always," you reply, your smile growing wider. "Thanks, Shoko. Talk to you soon."

"Later," she says, and the line goes dead.

You lean back in your chair again, your thoughts drifting back to Geto Suguru and the strange, dangerous world you both inhabit. As much as you hate to admit it, Shoko is right. This is your chance, not just to catch some sick killer, but to uncover the secrets that lie hidden beneath Suguru’s enigmatic exterior.

With a sigh, you close your laptop and stand up, determination settling in your chest. The competition awaits, and you have a feeling it's going to be a game changer.

~

“What’s got your panties in a twist?”

Suguru rolls his eyes at the white hair man’s mocking tone and continues to stare at his phone. It's been 10 minutes. How long does it take for someone to respond to a text. Suguru lay sprawled on the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone. Across the room, Gojo was bustling about in the kitchen, the sound of utensils clinking and food sizzling filling the air.

"Is this about Y/n? The Mute Collector or whatever?" Gojo asked, glancing over his shoulder with a mischievous grin.

Suguru didn't respond, his gaze unwavering from the screen. He could feel Gojo's eyes on him, the scrutiny almost tangible.

"I don't think I've seen you put this much effort into a woman since, like... ever," Gojo continued, his tone teasing. He turned back to his cooking, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement.

Suguru's jaw tightened, but he kept his silence. Gojo, undeterred, pressed on. "Besides the fact that she's the Mute Collector, what do you even see in Y/n? Well, I guess she does have other assets," he chuckled.

"Keep her name out of your fucking mouth, you prick," Suguru snapped, his voice low and menacing.

Gojo raised his hands in mock surrender, a laugh escaping his lips. "Alright, alright, no need to get all territorial."

Suguru continued to stare at his phone, his fingers hovering over the keys. "How long does it take for someone to respond to a fucking text" he mutters under his breath.

Gojo leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Maybe she's busy. Or maybe she's just messing with you. You know, playing hard to get."

Suguru finally looks up, his eyes narrowing. "She doesn't play games. And she's not hard to get—she's hard to keep."

Gojo raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by Suguru's reaction. “Touchy, touchy,” he mutters, returning to his culinary task.

Just then, Suguru's phone pings. His heart skips a beat as he sees your name flash on the screen. He quickly opens the message, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he reads your response.

Y/n: Fine, I'll do it. But what are the details?

Suguru: Oh, I'm thrilled

Y/n: Shut up.

Suguru: The rules are simple: whoever deduces the monkey’s identity first and guts the bastard wins.

Y/n: And how do I know you don’t already have a head start?

Suguru: I guess you'll just have to trust me. 

Y/n: Trust you? That’s rich coming from someone who literally stabs people in the back.

Suguru lets out a snort of air from your comment catching Gojo’s attention. “Ah, there it is. The smile of a man who's finally gotten what he wants.”

Suguru doesn't dignify that with a response. Instead, he focuses on your message, feeling a grin grow on his lips.

Suguru: You wound me, truly. But where’s the fun without a little challenge? Besides, I wouldn’t want to make it too easy for you

Y/n: Easy, huh? I suppose you think you’re quite the genius, then?

Suguru: Only compared to the average monkey. You, on the other hand, might actually make this interesting.

Y/n: Is that a compliment or are you just trying to butter me up?

Suguru: Can’t it be both? 

Y/n: Oh, don't worry. You’re not the only one who enjoys a good chase. But don’t cry when I beat you at your own game.

Suguru: Cry? Please. I’ll be too busy admiring you in action. It’s a win-win for me.

Y/n: Flattery will get you nowhere, Suguru.

Suguru: Really?

Suguru: Not even a little bit princess 🥺?

Y/n: *One attachment*

You send an image of your hand flipping him off. Your middle finger nail is painted black and he assumes so are all your other fingers. His heart thuds against his chest. God, how he would love to have those nails dragging down his back. His dick twitches just thinking about it. 

Gojo snickers as if he can read Suguru’s thoughts and Suguru considers throwing his phone at the smug white hair man when Gojo’s phone rings. Any humor falls off Gojo’s features like snow from a shaken tree branch. He glances at the caller ID, his eyes narrowing, and picks up the phone with a serious tone.

“This is Gojo.” He says. His voice is gruff as he responds to the caller with clipped “yes” and “no” answers, his timbre low. “I'll be there in 30 minutes.” 

When he sets down the phone, Suguru meets his blue eyes, Gojo’s brief smile is grim.

“Trouble?” Suguru asks.

“Trouble.” Gojo repeats.

On the exterior Gojo is Japan's most infamous playboy and philanthropist. But by night he is the devil's tool, the country's most lethal assassin for anyone from politicians to presidents.  What Suguru and you do for a hobby, Gojo Satoru does for his job.

Gojo dumps his hot food in a container, grabs his hunting knife coat and bag and heads for the door. Before he exits, he turns around to lock eyes with Suguru.

“Be safe. A woman killer is a deadly combo.” He says.

Suguru chuckles, and for a second he doesn't know if Gojo’s talking about you or the guy in Kyoto. “You to ass hat.”  

~

You can't believe you are doing this. 

You can't believe that you took up Suguru’s competition, spent 120 dollars on a train and hotel room at Kyoto and an extra 20 on room service. Moreover you can't believe that you are here, hiding in a forest of bamboo shoots at the dead of night, watching some man who may or may not be the Kyoto women killer.

It’s a warm summer night, and every time the wind blows, the bamboo shoots rustle against each other, creating a haunting melody that sets your nerves on edge. The air is thick with the scent of earth and foliage, and the occasional hoot of an owl punctuates the silence. You’re crouched low, your body tense, watching a man named Noaya Zenin who you followed out here. He seems to be wandering aimlessly, but you know better than to underestimate him. The Zenin clan's reach is long and shadowy, and their involvement in the Kyoto women killings is a tangled web you’ve been unraveling. All key witnesses were either paid off by the Zenin clan or had lawyers representing them from the Zenin clan. The pattern was too precise to be a coincidence.

Your heart thuds in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The thrill of the chase, the hunt, makes your senses sharper, every movement and sound more pronounced. You can feel the need creeping up on you, slowly reaching your brain until your skin itches with anticipation. 

Each minute feels like an eternity as you scrutinize Noaya’s every move. He stops occasionally, looking around as if sensing he’s being watched, and you hold your breath, pressing yourself closer to the ground. The moonlight filters through the dense bamboo, casting eerie shadows that dance with the wind. Your mind races, piecing together fragments of evidence and suspicion. If Noaya Zenin is indeed the killer, catching him here could be the breakthrough you need.

“Hiya.”

A scream almost rips through you when you feel someone's breath against your ear, but you quickly cover your mouth and whip around. Of course, you’re met face to face with the man you least wanted to see right now. Familiar hazel eyes gaze back at you, glinting with mischief and amusement. Suguru is crouched right next to you, his nose mere inches from yours, a sly smirk on his face. You didn’t even hear him approach.

“Suguru, what the fuck?” you hiss, keeping your voice low. Your first instinct is to grab your knife out of your pocket and press it against his throat but he holds both his hands up as if surrendering, stopping you.

“Woah woah princess, let's cool our engines.” He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying your reaction.

Your pulse is still racing, but you force yourself to calm down. “You could have given me a heart attack. How did you even find me?” You seethe.

“I have my ways,” he replies cryptically, his smirk widening. “Besides, I couldn’t let you have all the fun, now could I? So,” his eyes flicker to Noaya, who still seems to be staring at his phone. “Who are we looking at?”

“We?” You scoff and roll your eyes. “Are you kidding me? There is no we. This is a competition, remember? Go do your own research.”

Suguru raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh, come on. You know you love my company.”

Before you can retort, Noaya picks up his phone. You both strain to listen, and you catch his words clearly.

“Yeah, I’m at the bamboo forest. See you soon, babe.” He then hangs up the phone with a click and puts it back in his backpack. But just when you're about to turn back to Suguru and rip into the man, Noaya pulls something else out too. A hunting knife. A large one at that with serrated ends and a pointed tip that glints in the moon light. Just like the one used on the victims. And as if things couldn't get any more apparent, you watch as a wicked grin spreads across his face when he draws the blade diagonally through the air.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, eyes wide. “That’s definitely him. That’s like some comically evil villain shit right there.”

“Dibs,” Suguru whispers back, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he puts on his ghost mask. “I call fucking dibs.” He stands up, the crunch of leaves making Noaya whip around and stare right at the area you both hid in.

For a solid 5 seconds your two flabbergasted to even form words, you can only watch as Suguru steps out from the bamboo shoots and onto the trail, slowly walking toward Noaya like a lion cornering a gazelle. 

Or course, Noaya turns, screams like a little girl, and makes a hard right straight into the forest of bamboos.

“Oh hell no,” you mutter, leaping up and chasing after him. You sprint through the forest, the warm summer air thick and humid around you. Each footfall is muffled by the dense undergrowth, but the occasional snap of a twig or crunch of leaves marks your frenzied pace. Moonlight filters through the dense canopy, casting ghostly shadows that dance along the forest floor, creating an ever-shifting maze of light and dark.

Your breath comes in quick, controlled bursts, each inhale filling your lungs with the earthy scent of the forest. Adrenaline surges through your veins, sharpening your senses. The rhythmic pounding of your heart in your chest matches the rapid beat of your footsteps. Ahead, you can just make out the faint silhouette of Noaya, his panicked movements betraying his desperation.

Branches claw at your clothes and face, but you push through, eyes locked on your target. The thrill of the chase ignites every nerve, propelling you forward with a singular focus. Suguru’s presence is a constant just behind you, his footsteps a steady reminder of the competition driving you both. You can hear his breaths, steady and calculated, mirroring your own.

The path twists and turns, the bamboo growing thicker, creating a claustrophobic tunnel. You duck and weave, dodging low-hanging branches and vaulting over fallen logs. The forest floor is uneven, riddled with roots and hidden pitfalls, but your reflexes are sharp, your movements instinctual.

The thrill, the excitement, the danger—it all converges in this moment. You are a predator in your element, and your prey is within reach. The bamboo forest seems to blur around you, time stretching and contracting with each heartbeat. This is what you live for, the ultimate test of skill and nerve, the ultimate game of life and death.

Just as you’re about to close the distance, your fingertips brushing the fabric of Noaya’s shirt, he whirls around with surprising speed. The moonlight catches the gleam of his hunting knife as it arcs through the air. Instinct takes over, and you try to dodge, but the blade slices across your palm, leaving a hot, stinging line of red in its wake.

For a split second, time seems to slow. You see the wild desperation in Noaya’s eyes, the way his chest heaves with exertion and fear. But there’s no pain, only a white-hot fury that floods your veins, fueling your next move.

Your grip tightens around the hilt of your own knife, slick with blood but steady. The cut on your palm feels like a mere scratch compared to the surge of adrenaline that courses through you. With a fierce snarl, you lunge forward, using the momentum to drive Noaya back a step.

He stumbles, his confidence faltering as he realizes the severity of his mistake. You don’t give him a chance to recover. You move with a predatory grace, every muscle coiled and ready to strike. The forest around you fades into a blur of green and shadow, all your focus locked on the man in front of you.

Noaya swings wildly, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. You sidestep his attacks with practiced ease, your fury giving you a sharp, clear edge. The scent of blood mingles with the earthy aroma of the forest, and your pulse pounds in your ears like a war drum.

You close the distance again, this time with a calculated precision. Your free hand shoots out, grabbing his wrist and twisting it until the knife clatters to the ground. Noaya yelps in pain, his eyes widening in terror. The tables have turned, and he knows it.

Your injured hand, still bleeding, clamps down on his shoulder with a vice-like grip. You lean in close, your breath hot against his ear. “Nice try,” you hiss, the fury in your voice making him shudder. “But it’s over.”

With a swift, brutal motion, you plunge your knife into his chest. The blade sinks into flesh with a sickening thud, and Noaya's eyes widen in shock and agony. Blood spurts from the wound, hot and sticky, spraying across your face in a macabre mist. The initial strike is met with a gasp, a desperate, choking sound that fuels the savage fire within you.

A wicked grin spreads across your face, the thrill of dominance electrifying your senses. You pull the knife out, feeling the resistance of tissue and bone, and then plunge it in again, and again. Each thrust is accompanied by a wet, squelching sound, a symphony of carnage that drowns out the world around you. Blood flows freely, pooling at your feet and soaking into the earth.

Noaya’s body jerks and spasms with each stab, his strength fading with every violent assault. His once panicked eyes grow dull, the life draining from them as you continue your relentless attack. The coppery tang of blood fills the air, mingling with the scent of the forest, creating a heady mixture that makes your pulse race even faster.

You lose yourself in the rhythm of the violence, the way your muscles strain and flex with each plunge of the knife. Blood splatters across your face and clothes, warm and viscous, painting you in the evidence of your victory. Your grin widens, a feral expression of triumph and fury.

Amidst your frenzied stabbings, Suguru places a hand on your shoulder. "I think—" he begins, but when you turn around to face him he immediately shuts up.

Your eyes are wide, pupils contracted like a deranged predator. Your hair flows wildly in the wind as you grab Suguru's throat with your bloody hand, smearing the crimson on his skin and pressing him against a tree. 

"This woman-killer fucker is mine." You seethe.

His dick strains against his cargo pants waistband. You look divine.

“ Of course, All yours baby.” He coos.

~

Geto Suguru would be lying if he said that watching you tear apart that woman-killer wasn't the hottest thing he had ever seen. 

To Suguru, you looked divine. The moonlight accentuated the sharp angles of your face, casting shadows that danced across your blood-splattered skin. Your eyes, wild with the remnants of fury, glowed with an unearthly intensity. The contrast of crimson against your complexion made you seem otherworldly, a dark goddess of vengeance. Suguru couldn’t tear his eyes away, mesmerized by the raw, primal beauty you exuded in that moment.

The walk back to your hotel was silent, but not because you were soaked in blood or because he felt awkward. More like it was because the only think he could think to say is “You are so fucking hot.”

Now here he is, twiddling his thumbs as he stands outside of your hotel door, trying to think of the right thing to say to you because god he needs to see your face one last time before he goes to bed.

He raises his hand to knock, but before he can, the door swings open. You stand there, your hair wet and smelling faintly of vanilla. You’ve clearly just come out of the shower. A tank top clings to your damp skin, and sports shorts hug your thighs. His eyes widen slightly, and he gulps, struggling to keep his composure. 

No bra.

The sight makes his mouth go dry.

"Just checking to see if everything is good," he says, nodding toward your bandaged hand.

You feel yourself fidget in your place and you try to flash a small smile but your emotions betray you. What if you freaked him out? What he saw back there, what you did back there, that was you, the raw you. Behind all the layers of kind smiles and pleasantries, in many ways, you were no different than an animal, consumed by your predatory instincts. You wouldn't blame him if he never contacted you again after this. Shit, did you just fuck up everything?

 His presence fills the doorway, and you’re acutely aware of the tension between you two.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you reply, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Thanks for asking.”

His eyes flicker down to your hand, then back up to meet yours. “How’s the hand?” he asks, genuine concern in his voice.

You hold it up and wiggle your fingers slightly. “It’ll heal. No big deal.”

Silence fills the void between you two and you clear your throat, searching for something to say to break the awkward silence, but he beats you to it.

“Mind if I come in?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans against the doorframe. “Or are you planning to keep all the fun out here in the hallway?”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Sure, come in. But I warn you, it’s a mess.”

“I’m sure I can handle it,” he quips, stepping inside. His eyes scan the room, taking in the organized chaos. Bandages and clothes are scattered around the floor and he doesn't miss the splatter of blood on the white sheets of the hotel bed. After a moment, Suguru turns around and takes a step closer to you, like he’s examining you. 

You tilt your head slightly, letting a smirk play on your lips. "So, now that I’ve won the bet, what do I get?"

He chuckles, the sound low and smooth, as he takes another step closer, closing the distance between you. "I was wondering when you’d bring that up." 

You arch an eyebrow, trying to keep your composure despite the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. "Well? I’m waiting. What’s my prize?"

Suguru stops just inches from you. "I don’t know," he quips, "What do you want?"

You let out a short laugh, though it’s clear you’re testing him now. "That’s a big question."

Suguru's eyes darken slightly, his playful demeanor shifting into something more serious, more intense. He leans in just a fraction, his breath warm against your skin. "Try me."

The tension between you two is palpable, electric. You’re the first to break the silence, your voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "I want," you pause, averting your gaze from Suguru’s hawkish one. “I want to know if I scared you.” The question slips out before you can stop it, your bravado faltering as doubt creeps in.

Suguru blinks, then a slow smile spreads across his face. "Scare me?" He repeats, as if the idea itself is laughable. He steps even closer, forcing you to take a step back until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed. "Scare me?” He repeats again. “You didn’t scare me," he continues, his voice low and sincere. "You… captivated me. I have never, and I mean never, seen something so magnificent as what you did. And that's saying a lot because I've done a shit ton of magnificent things.”

You sit down on the bed, more out of necessity than choice, as he looms over you. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you feel a mix of emotions—relief, curiosity, and something much more dangerous.

"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as he leans in, his hands resting on either side of you, trapping you in place.

He smiles, a slow, almost wicked grin that sends shivers down your spine. "Well, I thought I might kiss you now, you know, after telling you how magnificent you are.” He tilts his head. “Is that a bad idea?"

Your breath catches in your throat as the weight of his words sinks in. You forget to breathe.

You finally find your voice, though it’s a bit shakier than you’d like. "That depends…"

"On?" He asks, his face inching closer to yours, his gaze locked onto your lips.

"On how good you are at it," you murmur.

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. Suguru closes the remaining distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s as intense as it is tender. It’s a slow, deliberate connection, his hands moving to cradle your face as if you’re something precious, something worth savoring.

The kiss deepens, and all the tension that had been building between you two finally snaps, leaving nothing but raw desire in its wake. You respond in kind, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as if you can’t get enough.

When you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless, and the world seems to have shrunk down to just the two of you in this moment. Suguru’s forehead rests against yours, and he smiles, a real, genuine smile that you can feel in your bones.

"So," he says, his voice husky and low. "How was that?"

You laugh softly, still trying to catch your breath. "Not bad," you admit, your fingers running through his black hair. "Not bad at all."

"Good," he replies, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a kiss. "Because I plan on doing it again."

Suguru’s lips are on yours again before you can even catch your breath, this time more insistent, more demanding. He’s not asking for permission anymore; he’s claiming what he wants, and it makes your head spin. The kiss deepens as his tongue slips past your lips, exploring your mouth with a slow, deliberate intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. You can taste him—warm, intoxicating—and you find yourself leaning into his lips, craving more.

His hand, warm and firm, slides down your side, tracing the curve of your waist before coming to rest between your thighs. The touch is electrifying, sending a jolt of sensation through you, and you gasp against his mouth, your heart pounding in your chest.

But it’s too much, too fast. Your mind races, and you instinctively pull back, breaking the kiss. “Wait,” you murmur, your voice breathless, “I dont know if we should….” You avert your gaze and turn your head toward the wall but Suguru grabs your chin, forcing you to look right into his hazel eyes. Then, he dips his head to whisper in your ear.

“Aw come one Y/n” He grazes your earlobe with his teeth. “I’ve been on my best behavior, a good boy,” Suguru pauses to deliver a soft kiss to your temple. “I've been waiting, waiting ever since I met you in that cage to do this. Don't I deserve a reward for my patience?” 

You thickly gulp as he rubs the sides of your neck with his lips.

“I’ve been-” He kisses your jaw. “Such a-” he kisses his way up to your mouth. “Good boy.”

You cave. 

As his words sink in, you feel your resolve crumbling, the weight of his desire pressing down on you in the most intoxicating way. Before you can even process what’s happening, Suguru's strong arms wrap around you, lifting you off the bed with effortless ease. His grip is firm but gentle, as if he's afraid of breaking you, and you can't help but let out a soft gasp as he lifts you off the bed and up so your head rests on the plush hotel pillow. His eyes lock onto yours, dark with intent, and you feel your breath hitch as the world narrows down to just the two of you. The room is filled with the sound of your breathing, heavy and uneven, mingling with the quiet rustle of sheets as he leans over you.

“I know you have been thinking about this too.” He coos. Suguru’s hands move with a deliberate slowness, as if savoring the moment. His fingers curl around the hem of your tank top, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he begins to lift it. The cool air hits your skin as he pulls the fabric up and over your head, exposing you to his hungry gaze. But before you can feel self-conscious, his lips are on your newly exposed skin, pressing gentle kisses along your collarbone, his warm breath fanning over your skin.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice filled with awe and reverence. “Just so gorgeous.”

His hands are on your shorts next, tugging them down your hips with the same careful slowness, as if he’s unwrapping the most precious gift. As the fabric slips down your legs, he trails kisses along the newly exposed skin, his lips brushing against your thighs, your knees, your calves, until the shorts are discarded on the floor.

Now you’re lying before him in just your underwear, and the way he looks at you makes your heart pound. His eyes are dark and intense, filled with a hunger that makes your entire body flush with heat. “You’re gorgeous,” he repeats, his voice thick with emotion. “Just so damn gorgeous.”

Suguru straightens up slightly, his hands moving to the hem of his own shirt. In one fluid motion, he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside, revealing his bare chest. The sight of him makes your breath catch—his body is lean and athletic, muscles defined and sculpted from years of discipline and training. Tattoos cover his skin in an elaborate tapestry. He’s handsome, impossibly so, and the sight of him like this, just inches away, makes your pulse quicken.

He doesn’t stop there. His fingers move to the waistband of his sweatpants, and he slides them down, revealing more of his skin, his strong legs, until he’s kneeling before you in just his boxers. The fabric clings to him in a way that leaves little to the imagination, and you can’t help but stare, mesmerized by the sheer physicality of him.

Suguru catches your gaze, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Something catches your eye princess?”

You nod, “Yes. You. All of you.” Your eyes tracing every line and curve of his body. He’s more than just handsome—he’s breathtaking, a perfect combination of strength and beauty that leaves you feeling weak in the best way possible.

He leans down again, his body hovering over yours, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Good, wouldn't want you to be disappointed.”

With that, he captures your lips in a heated kiss, his hands trailing down your sides, touching, feeling, exploring. 

You are too lost in the kiss not to notice his hands slipping under your underwear and making their way to your dripping cunt, and when they do, you jump at the feeling of his index finger tracing your slit.

"Gotta get you ready baby.?" Suguru hums and you shake you head vigorously.

"No please Sugu~, I can take it."

You don't have to tell him twice.

In one fluid motion Suguru tears off your underwear, lays you on your back and positions himself between your legs.

"Been waiting to do this for so long," he murmurs as he pulls down his boxers and whips out his dick. You thickly gulp at the sight, you could've guessed he was big not this big, could he even fit in you? A white bead of precum dribbled from his pretty pink tip and down his length and he uses the liquid to stroke himself in a few fluid motions.

You could hear your heart in your ears and adrenaline coursed through your veins at rocket fire speed. The need in between your legs was too much, it was clouding your head and twisting your stomach so tight you almost felt sick. You jolt when his fat tip bumps into your clit; collecting your juices before pressing against your quivering hole.

"Suguru please~" You whine and nearly miss the way his ears go bright red at your words

"I know baby, I know. Don't worry, lift your hips for me love?”

You oblige and immediately when you do so you're struck with the feeling of his length spreading you so helplessly wide and his tip smashing against something which must be your cervix you think. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides into you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, you're cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making Suguru let out a low groan of his own and pushing even deeper into you. 

“F-fuck I can feel you doing it to me,” he said hoarsely.

His fingers gently press into the skin of your hip, guiding and steadying you as he pulls back and thrusts into you. The sudden friction and collision with your G-spot knocks the wind out of your lungs. Ticklish pleasure courses through your veins and you immediately throw your head back against the wall as Suguru thrusts into you.

"Hnghh, s-so good~~" You whine. It was dizzying, the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up.

Simultaneously, his other hand sought yours, finding it with a purposeful tenderness. His fingers intertwined with yours, locking them together in a grip that was both a clasp and a caress.

You dont even realize that your eyes are closed until Suguru whispers into your ear.

“Come on baby, open those pretty eyes, look at me.”

You do as he says and when you do you feel your heart thud in your chest. Suguru’s eyes were fixated completely on you, how you were reacting, as his hips were continuously slamming into your body as if it were clockwork. The sight alone had your walls clamping down on him, earning a groan from the base of his chest. 

Suddenly, the hand that had been intertwined with yours released its grip and began to rummage through Suguru’s discarded pants. Your breath hitched, eyes glazed over as you watched him retrieve a knife from his pocket, unsheathing it effortlessly with a flick of his finger. The sharp glint of the blade caught your attention from beneath Suguru’s body, even as he continued thrusting into you, not missing a beat.

Your body reacted instinctively, clenching at the sight, drawing a low, dark chuckle from Suguru.

“Hah, I knew it,” he said, his voice laced with a teasing edge as he brought the cold steel to the base of your throat. “You’re just a slut for knives, aren’t you?”

A moan escaped your lips, the sound betraying any chance of denial. Suguru took it as an admission, pressing the blade firmly against the skin of your throat as he angled his hips to hit even deeper inside you. The cool metal at your throat was electrifying, but it was his other hand, strong and unyielding, that sent a euphoric thrill coursing through you. His fingers flexed, tightening around your neck, the pressure intensifying.

It wasn’t just the air being cut off—it was the dizzying, intoxicating pleasure that came with it. The way his grip constricted, pushing you to the edge of control, ignited something raw inside. Every squeeze of his hand made your body burn hotter, a perfect balance between pain and pleasure, leaving you gasping for more.

What a primal dirty sight you where, being choked with a blade against your throat while fucked brutaly. Even the devil would clutch his rosaries.  

"Were we doing it like this in your head baby?" Suguru grunts, his Adam apple bobs as he groans from the pleasure of how fucking heavenly your pussy feels. “Because we were doing it like this in mine.” Good? Try euphoric, how could he ever think his fist could substitute the wet squeeze of your cunt?

You can't even open your mouth to respond. The friction of his dick against your walls and the adrenaline from the knife is just too good and as his pace intensified, a dizzying warmth spread through you, filling every corner of your being with a euphoric haze. The sensation of being completely enveloped, utterly connected, sent electric flesh arrows of pleasure through your body, making your eyes flutter and roll back slightly in sheer bliss. Every motion Suguru makes, every time his fat tip collides with your cervix, leaves behind a trail of sparkling heat that seems to light you from within.

"Come on eyes on me when I fuck you baby~" Suguru releases his hold from your neck and snakes his fingers between your body , finding your clit and pressing down on the pearl back and forth with the pad of index finger. "Tell me how good you feel, tell me how badly you want to cum.

He doesn’t slow the ministrations on your clit for a second as he snaps his hips into you with primal vigor, your breasts bouncing from the brutality.

"So good Sugu!" You sob. You cant even open your eyes from the colors you're seeing behind your lids. Every time your pussy squeezes around him not only do bolts of pleasure shoot up your body but a ring of milky white cum forms around the base of his cock.

Suguru’s eyes are locked on how good you're taking him - the fat of his head has a hard time popping out with how greedy your cunny is being. He lets out a sharp moan at how wet you are on the inside.

"S-shit baby wanna feel you cum on me, been waiting so long." Suguru is not a whining man but here he is practically stumbling over his words. Fuck, he wants to keep himself inside you forever. He wants your kisses, your skin, your touch, your blood, your lips, to be his to claim until you die together. No one has seen, truly seen him, before you. You are what he thinks about when he wakes up, when he is eating, when he is plunging his knife into some worthless monkey. You are his goddess. 

The world beyond this intimate cocoon of warmth and breath seemed distant, irrelevant. His gaze was locked with yours, deep and unwavering, a silent communication that tethered you through the mind numbing ecstasy.

Then, he reels his hips back and slams into you in a new angle that has your body jerking.

“Found it didn't I?” He breathes through a smile and pummels into you with vigor. And your about to disagree with him, insist that the feeling is too new and foreign to feel good when all of a sudden your body begins to shake and your head starts to feel fuzzy

And suddenly—you feel it. What you’ve been craving for and what you have seen in porn.

Its like all your body's energy centers are activating at once and your left utterly helpless to the feeling of tingling ecstasy wrapping your brain and stomach.

You dont know how to tell him that something is happening, not when the pleasure is too immense your barely breathing full breaths. But he understands once again the words you tried desperately to communicate.

“Do it baby. Cum. I’ll fill you up, and if it spills I'll fuck it back into you"

So you do.

Release washed over you in an all-encompassing wave, radiating out from your core to the very tips of your fingers and toes. It swept through you like a storm, leaving a trail of starbursts in its wake. Your body arched instinctively, clinging to Suguru as the wave crested, then gently, slowly, began to ebb.

“Ah, princess, please,” he moaned. “Be a good girl and take it all, yeah?” 

Your fingers trailed up his shoulder, only to drag them back down his spine, nails biting into his skin as he buried himself deep inside you, releasing with a powerful shudder. His movements grew erratic, hips pressing yours firmly into the mattress as his hot breath skimmed across your neck, ragged and heavy.

The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this moment, lost in each other, with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the feel of his touch to guide you.

The warmth of his cum spreads through your body with a shiver, and you can feel the liquid expanding against your walls while he kept you plugged and full of him. As you both floated back down from the heights of bliss, your breaths came easier, softer, the lingering aftershocks of pleasure pulsing gently through you.

"You're mine ok?" Suguru coos, and all you can do is dumbly nod.

"I'll die for you, I'll kill a thousand monkeys for you, i'll hold them down so you can cut our their eyes. Just stay by my side."

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: '𝖫𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖱𝖾𝖽' ༄࿔ 𝖡.𝖢.

⤷ Size Kink | Stomach Bulge | Teratophilia (Wolf-Hybrid)

♱ word count: 1.8k

♱ warnings: fem!reader, Red Riding Hood reader x Wolf Hybrid Chan, I never specify body type but this has stomach bulge & Chris is described to be bigger than the reader so read at ur own discretion, size kink, teratophilia, knotting, kinda corruption?, bribery/coercing, lowkey kinda mean chris (everyone act surprised. Sian wrote mean dom), rough sex + big dick chris with no mentions of prep, biting, public sex? Its in a forest but nobody is around, 1 use of “good girl’

sorta proofread

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

“Tsk tsk tsk… You should know better than to be this far out in the woods, Red. You know this is my territory.”

“C-Chris! Listen… I’m really sorry but I need that plant over there. Grandma isn’t doing well and the only remedy that will help needs just a few of those flowers…” The tall man looks over his shoulder, eyeing the purple-colored flowers that you had pointed out.

“Hm… Okay, you can have a few.” The bright smile that grew on your face was almost enough to let you take it for free. Almost.

“Thank-” “On one condition.” 

“C’mon, sweet girl. You know I don’t do things for free~” His rough fingers stroked your cheek and he couldn’t help but grin as your smile dropped. The canines that peeked out from behind his plump lips were enough to bring you back to reality and remind you that he was in fact still a wolf hybrid and not so much your “friendly” neighbor.

“What exactly do you want…?” His grin seemed to get wider before he took his bottom lip between his teeth. A predatory glint took over his eyes as he slowly looked you up and down.

“I have something in mind…”

“Open the fuck up.”

His growl rumbles from deep within his chest and he thrusts his hips forward aggressively, causing you to cry out. Your thighs ache from the action, along with your swollen pussy thanks to the big dick that was currently tearing your insides up. You lost count after the first 5 inches, and now the seemingly never-ending length was quickly becoming too much for you.

He knew this all too well. But that didn’t stop him from forcing you and your little human body to take every last inch of his thick cock inside of you.

“C’mon Little Red, you can take it. You need to, remember?” He chuckles and pushes your thighs further apart. “You need those pretty little flowers, so you need to take my fucking cock.” His smile drops at the end of the sentence and he pulls out just to roughly thrust back inside. You moan out in surprise and his fingers dig further into your thighs, leaving crescent-shaped divots in your skin. 

“P-Please…” He clicks his tongue and leans forward more, shoving his face into your neck with another growl. With this, he manages to push another inch or two into your puffy hole, but your mind is so foggy that you don’t even notice it right away. The feeling of him breaching your walls so aggressively, all while he growls and huffs about how he needs to be all the way in for it to “count as payment” makes your head spin.

Even more so as a sob rips from your throat when he finally bottoms out. Your jaw drops and you squeal as his hips grind against yours, causing him to feel deeper all while he rubs against your G-Spot so perfectly. He throws his head back at the feeling of you completely wrapped around him and groans deeply when you clench subconsciously.

“There we go~ Good job, baby.” He licks a stripe up your neck before placing kisses all over it, letting you take a few seconds to breathe. He wasn’t that much of a brute- he did still care for you after all. Plus, what good is a new toy if you break it so early on!? So he takes a few seconds to himself, backing away and fixing his posture, allowing him to get a good look at you. And God do you look exquisite.

He licks his lips and looks over your body multiple times, doing everything in his power to burn this image of you into his head. He starts with your pretty lips, swollen and shiny with drool, and then your flushed cheeks that are wet from the fat tears that fall down them.

His eyes glance at your arms, smiling to himself at the army of goosebumps that have littered your skin as your body shakes deliciously with what he can’t decipher if it’s pleasure or pain. Your chest catches his eyes next; the way it heaves with each breath you take makes his chest swell with pride. But the thing that took the most of his attention, was the not-so-little bump on your tummy.

His lips were slightly parted and his breath was quickening as he lightly traced the outline of his dick. It’s at this point that he realizes just how large and wide he is compared to you. He’s always noticed- it’s quite hard not to. But when he has you like this, below him and completely at his mercy, he finally realizes just how much bigger he is. The sun only urges him further, casting a giant shadow over you that completely covers you and some of the ground you lay upon.

It makes his instincts go absolutely crazy and he can’t hold himself back from experimentally thrusting, moving at an angle that makes the bulge more prominent. The squeak you let out causes his eyes to flicker back up to your face, essentially snapping him out of the daze he was in. And when he meets your confused face looking up at him, he realizes how long he has been staring.

“Haha… Take a look at this, baby.” He wipes some of your tears and tilts your chin to help you look down. The desperate moan you let out sends his ego to the moon, causing him to twitch against your walls. He huffs out a laugh in disbelief and begins to move his hips, thrusting into you slowly yet roughly.

“I’m so deep… You feel that, baby?” His hand moves from your thigh and pushes down on your lower stomach, right on top of where the bulge popped out each time he bottomed out. “Fffuck.. ‘S my fat cock in your tummy?”

“God- Fuck, shut up Chris-” You clench tightly at his words despite your words and he ignores you in favor of picking up his pace, groaning when your walls flutter around him even more.

“You feel so fucking good. It’s almost like this pretty pussy was meant for me.” You swear you almost see his eyes roll into the back of his head, but he immediately brings your attention away by folding you in half. Pushing your knees to your chest and letting your ass hang in the air as he completely hovers over you, fucking into you with carnal need.

This new position makes you see stars and he uses it to his advantage, pounding into you and not allowing you time to think straight. He chases this brutal pace until your legs begin to ache, the pain of it overpowering the pleasure and making you hurriedly tap on his shoulder and push him back, “Fuck, wait- my legs.”

He huffs in annoyance but responds immediately, sitting up straight and allowing your legs to fall to his sides. His hips continue to thrust shallowly as you breathe deeply and try to rub the ache away, but this break doesn’t last long. You owe him payment, and he wants it now.

So he pulls out, opting to quickly flip you onto your knees and push your chest into the ground. You’re given no time to object before he’s shoving his entire length back inside with a groan. Your body shakes at the feeling of being absolutely filled to the brim. The back of your throat even itches as if his tip was poking it. And god, did it genuinely feel like that.

It’s not hard for him to find his previous pace, especially now that you’re seemingly more pliant for him. The only disobedient action from you is your cries for him to slow down, but he has no plans to. Not when you look absolutely ruined below him.

He shushes you and leans forward, holding you down with his chest against your back as he continues to fuck you as if his life depends on it.

“Shhhhh… It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re gonna be good and take it right? You're gonna let the big bad wolf fuck your brains out? Yea?” Your fingers dig into the ground and you nod as best as you can with your cheek shoved against the floor.

He’s unhappy with the silent answer and bares his teeth, sinking them into your shoulder with a growl to “Use your words.”

“Y-Yes! Please, Chris!”

“Goood girl. Just sit there and take this fucking dick. Let Wolfy use you like the good chew toy you are.” The new name makes you clench tightly around him and he groans as you cum, causing the squelching noises to become even louder. He moans and nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving small kisses before he chomps down again.

The overstimulation is starting to hit and you cry out, desperately pushing against the ground in hopes of pushing your torso up and off the floor. But that’s not what good toys do. So he growls against your neck and pushes you down, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to keep you in place as he fixes his posture.

“No. You’re gonna sit still. Good toys don’t fucking move. I can’t knot you if you’re misbehaving.” As if to prove his point, his other hand digs into your waist, holding you even more still as he rams into you.

Thanks to his thick tip incessantly knocking into your cervix, you don’t process what he says right away. At least, not until you feel an extra mass pushing against your swollen folds. “W-Wait, your knot?!?”

You hear his earrings jingle as he tilts his head and you can almost hear the shit-eating grin on his face as he mocks you. “Yes, my knot. You’re gonna take it inside of this tight. little. cunt. And you’re going to take every last drop of my cum.” You go to disagree but your body reacts on its own, clenching around him and trying to suck him in impossibly deeper.

“F-Fuck- feels like you do like that idea, baby.” He grits his teeth and starts to focus on sharp thrusts. Once his knot finally breaches your hole, you sob into your arm and bite into it to hold back a scream.

He whines and grinds into you, rubbing against your G-spot roughly as he pushes himself over the edge. You can feel his breath on your neck, heavy and heaving as he pumps you full of his seed. His body shakes with each spurt of cum he releases, and the overwhelming movements are enough to push you over the edge again; the needy grinding from him mixed with the mind-numbing feeling of being overfilled, yet forced to hold every last bit, pushing you towards another orgasm.

“Mmmm… Hold it there, yeah? Keep my pups nice and safe in their new home, and I’ll let you take as many plants as you want. Deal, Little Red?”

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[e-nonsense]

“Gonna fill you up, till you’re round with my baby.”

This prompt for Dick having baby fever with his fem!reader after seeing her taking good care of Damian (giving him praises and cookies for example).

Please and thank you!

pairing. dick grayson x reader

warning. smut

a/n. here you go anon

prompts used. “gonna fill you up, till you’re round with my baby.”

seeing you with damian was normal. the young boy saw you and dick as his paternal figures not that he’d admit it. but to see you doting over the boy. he’d ‘ran’ away from home — you’d already called bruce to tell him where damian is — and to your shared apartment.

first it started with the way you worried when he showed up at your door, a bag swung over his shoulder and his scowl set on his face.

“damian?” you stared down at the boy confused, looking around the hall way where all the other flats and the elevator could be seen.

“what’s wrong? are you okay?” your confusion switched to worry almost immediately when the boy hugged you, your arms moving around him to hug him back, gently rubbing his head.

“can i stay with you and grayson?” he mumbled.

“babe? who’s at the door—” dick’s voice trailed off when he saw damian holding onto you for dear life.

“what happened?” dick asks, the worry in his eyes matching yours.

“he needs to stay over tonight,” you murmur, glancing at dick with those puppy eyes of yours that he can’t say no to. he wanted to protest, remind you that tonight is his night off and date night but his heart flutters at the way damian clings to you like a boy would to his mother.

he doesn’t have the heart to say no, merely nodding. “sure baby, he can have the spare room.”

the next time he feels that same flutter of undistinguishable wanting is when you’re making damian late dinner for him, seeing as its midnight and you and dick were planning on a little fun tonight.

the way damian sits at the dining table, finishing his homework — because even if he’s staying here and his school is in gotham he’s still gotta keep up with school — and the way you make something quick that alfred taught you to make before sending damian off to bed.

he’s all over you after that, kissing at your neck, hands slipping under your shirt, you giggle before reminding him that his little brother is in the apartment so fun time is going to have to wait.

so he waits, a week before damian finally leaves, not that dick minds having his little brother around — lies. he does mind, he minds a lot, especially when your attention is being stolen from him.

but even that didn’t stop the way his heart fluttered with every moment you doted over like a mother would, and that’s when it clicked in his mind. he wanted a baby with you.

that’s how you got here. a week later after you’d dropped damian back to the manor, and when you came home you were talking to him about how you were concerned about damian overworking on patrols but he couldn’t hear a word over the hunger buzzing in his ears.

“mhm,” he hummed, head pressed into your neck as you rambled on. “baby, baby shhhh. lets forget about them for minute.”

“dick?” you mutter confused, his hands pressing warmly against your tummy.

“yes baby?” he asks.

“what’re you doing?” you ask.

“touching you, why? am i not allowed to touch my girl?” he replies, moving you towards the bedroom. “my pretty girl, yknow that?”

you hum in response, not sure what had come over him as he gently nudges you back onto the mattress to lay down. “i was thinking, honey. about you and me… and a little someone else.”

you catch the way his eyes drop to your stomach, his pupils blown out so much that his pretty blue eyes look different. “and who’s that?” you ask, urging him on.

“our baby.”

now that does surprise you, you and dick have never talked about having kids together, you’ve barely even talked about marriage but you know enough that he seems to like the idea of both those scenarios.

“our baby?” you question and he nods, a wide smile setting on his lips as he stares down at you hungrily.

“you’d look so pretty, honey. all round and full, full of me, of us. i’d take such good care of you too.”

your cheeks flush at the way he stares at you and the way the compliments leave his lips, like pure honey.

it doesn’t take much longer till you’re both completely bare, with you all spread out under him all fucked out as he ruts against you from behind.

he wasn’t shy with his noises, whining into your ear and groaning too. whispering praises that make you purr. “aw, look at you baby, all fucked and pretty for me to use. you want me to fill you up that bad huh?”

you nod eagerly, stomach fluttering as you spasm around him, face pressed into the pillows to bury your moaning, back arched so prettily it makes him want to never stop.

“good girl, my good girl. you like the sound of being a mommy huh?” he coos, fucking into you with no mercy, mind set of giving you a baby. a part of the two of you to love.

“that’s good ‘cause i’m gonna fill you up, till you’re round with my baby.”

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off