#Take Care Little Red Riding Hood

[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?”

Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess

[starkeysprincess]

⟢ JUST FOR THE NIGHT

presenting kinktober day 4 ➔︎ rafe x reader x trevor

warnings: threesome, double vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, oral (f & m receiving), degrading, praise, squirting, creampie, slight breeding, 18+ mdni word count: 2.8k a/n: rafe's dialogue is in bold + trevor's is in italics (warning that this is my first time writing a threesome)

kinktober m.list ⟡ rafe m.list ⟡ main m.list

you and your boyfriend, trevor, were at some random halloween party that a friend of yours invited you to. you weren’t familiar with who lived in the big house other than knowing you were in figure eight, but you didn’t care, you were merely here to have fun. throughout the night, you began to let loose due to the number of shots you and trevor had consumed.

your ears perked at your favorite song playing, and you squealed, dragging your boyfriend through the crowd of bodies. trevor wrapped his arms around your waist, “god, you look so sexy, baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. he nuzzled his face into the side of your neck, his soft lips peppering kisses along your neck to your shoulder as both of you move to the music.

his hands roamed up and down your waist, resting under your tits, and you hummed to the song as your eyes drifted to see a tall blonde, who looked identical to your boyfriend, watching the two of you. your eyes meet rafe’s as he sips his drink, his eyes raking up and down your body, and you can see the corner of his lip twitching upwards when he sees trevor walking away before quickly downing what was left in the red solo cup and setting it aside to make his way to you. 

“what do we have here? little red riding hood, huh?” rafe smirked, his tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip, taking in your costume. his index finger trailed over the top of your dress, right above your tits, “you’re a pretty little thing,” he paused, “you know, i’ve been watching you since the minute you stepped foot into my house.”. 

“your house?” you furrowed your eyebrows, “mhm, what? you don’t know who i am?” he wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you into his hard, muscular chest, swaying you along with the music. you shook your head and a laugh rumbled in his chest, “you’re in tannyhill, does that ring a bell in that pretty head of yours?”.

“no, i’m not a local, just here with my boyfriend for a few weeks to visit a friend,” you muttered, “just visiting a friend, huh? and where did your boyfriend run off to?” he hummed. before you could respond, you felt a second pair of hands on your hips, “who’s your friend, baby?” trevor rasped, pressing himself against you. 

you stared at the man in front of you, realizing you never caught his name, “rafe,” he introduced himself to both you and your boyfriend. you craned your neck to look back at trevor to see he was looking back and forth between you and rafe, noticing how your eyes were glazed over and taking note of your bottom lip sucked between your teeth when you looked at rafe. he knew the look on your face all too well and leaned forward to whisper in your ear, “you could deny it all you want, but i know that look a little too well. you want him to fuck you, don’t you?”. 

you chewed on your lip anxiously, glancing over at rafe, who had an amused look on his face and was trying to decipher your facial expression. sure, you and trevor briefly mentioned wanting to try something new, but the thought didn’t stop you from rubbing your thighs together.  

“it’s okay if you do, baby. i could share you for one night,” your boyfriend whispered. “are you sure?” you hesitated, unsure whether he was serious since the two of you had never acted on the idea before. “mhm, i‘m sure. wanna know why? because you’re mine, and at the end of the night, you’re coming home with me, no one else,” trevor reassured, his hands rubbing up and down the sides of your waist. 

“we can try it, only if you want to. i don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” trevor murmured. his reassurance made your heart flutter, and you gave him a small nod, “i’m not uncomfortable, i do want to try, i’m just nervous.” 

it didn’t take much to convince rafe, who had a smug look etched on his face; all he had to hear from your boyfriend was, “heard that, cameron? my girl wants you to join,” before he led the two of you upstairs to his bedroom. once the three of you entered the room, rafe locked the door.

in a matter of seconds, you were sandwiched between both men with trevor’s lips on yours while rafe led wet, open-mouthed kisses on the column of your neck. rafe’s hands slide up your waist, cupping and squeezing your tits through your costume as they both back you to the edge of the bed. trevor worked at the zipper of your costume, unzipping it and shrugging it off your shoulders, letting it pool onto the floor, leaving you in only your lace thong and knee-high socks. he pulled away to lay back on the bed, “c’mere, wanna feel your sweet cunt on my tongue.”.

his fingers hooked into the waistband of your thong, pulling them down and tossing them to rafe, who stuffs them into the pocket of his pants. you swung your leg over trevor’s torso, and he grabbed your hips, yanking you back until your glistening cunt hovered over his face. “oh—“ a small squeak erupts from your throat when he licks a stripe along your slick folds, flattening his tongue. your hips bucked forward when he flicked and swirled his tongue onto your clit, “go on, baby, make rafe feel good while i eat this pretty pussy.”.

rafe‘s fingers thread through your hair, holding your head upright as he kicks his pants and boxers aside. his cock sprung out, slapping against his lower abdomen, and your mouth couldn’t help but water at the sight of his hard, veiny cock. he teasingly slaps the head of his cock against your lips, coating them with his precum, “be a good girl and open your mouth.”. 

you part your lips, letting your tongue dart out to lick at the bead of precum before swirling your tongue around his tip. he tugs at the roots of your hair, sinking his length deeper into your warm, wet mouth, “fuck, knew you’d look pretty with your mouth stuffed full.”.

trevor’s arms hooked over your thighs, pinning them down, his tongue working in tandem when your hips moved feverishly against his mouth. “shit–” rafe grunts, feeling your throat constrict around him when trevor’s tongue slips inside you, his nose grinding against your swollen clit. “you like that, baby? like having your pussy ate while sucking dick?” your boyfriend groaned. 

you mumbled incoherently around rafe in response, your tongue running along the underside of his cock as tears well in your eyes from rafe pushing your head further down, his tip hitting the back of your throat as he brutally fucks your mouth. his grip tightens on your hair when you try to pull away as you gag around him.

your muffled moans increasingly become more persistent as trevor skillfully works his tongue, flicking and sucking your sensitive bundle of nerves. you pathetically rut against trevor’s mouth, your legs trembling, feeling the tightening in your stomach growing tenfold and crying out as your orgasm washes over you.

the sight of your mascara-stained face was enough to send rafe over the edge, “shit, ‘m gonna cum,” he panted. his hips faltering, your nose tickling the small patch of hair resting below his belly button as he pushes his dick deep into your mouth, shooting thick ropes of cum down your throat.

he pulled away, swiping his thumb against the string of spit that connected between your lips and his tip. he collected the small amount of cum that dribbled out before pushing his thumb into your mouth, groaning when you sucked it clean, “good girl, so eager to please, huh?”. 

you bit your lip before gasping when trevor tossed you onto your back, kissing his way up your body to your lips, “did so fuckin’ good, baby,” he praised, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. you moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue, whining and sitting up when he broke the kiss at rafe’s words, “bet that pretty little cunt feels even better than your mouth.”.

“i don’t think so, cameron, you can fuck her ass. her pussy was only made for me; it’s off-limits,” trevor snorted. you look between both men, your gaze settling on your boyfriend as you jut your bottom lip out, pouting at him, “trevor, it’s just for the night. you said you were sure and even said it yourself by the end of the night, i’m going home with you because i’m yours, remember?”.

his cerulean blue eyes softened at your pout, frowning to himself because not only did you use his words against him but because he knew you were right. “fine—but the only way cameron gets to fuck what’s mine is if we both do at the same time.”.

rafe chuckles at the idea, “shit, i don’t care as long as i get to feel her wrapped around me.”.

“w-what?” your eyes widened in disbelief, understanding exactly what he was indicating, “i don’t know if that's a good idea…i don’t think i could handle both of you.” 

“c’mon, baby, you were just pouting f’me to let rafe fuck you, and you want both of us,” trevor pointed out, “just trying to give your greedy little cunt what it wants.”.

you were teetering on the edge of the idea, not thinking you could take both of them. still, it didn’t stop your arousal from growing and sticking to your inner thighs, eager to at least give it a try. “atta girl, don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you,” rafe cooed, his thumb tugging at your bottom lip. 

the two swiftly discard the rest of their clothes before trevor lays flat on his back, your legs straddling either side of his hips as he pulls you on top of him. his hands rested on your hips, lifting you, and he gripped the base of his cock, lining himself with your sopping hole. you lower yourself onto him, your walls swallowing around him, sucking him in deeper as his cock splits you open. 

trevor rolled his hips into yours when he felt your body tense at the feeling of the mattress dipping under rafe’s weight as he climbed behind you.“s’okay, just gonna stretch you out for both of us,” rafe murmured, his large palm traveling up your back, pushing at your spine until your tits were pressed against your boyfriend’s chest. you felt his fingers run along your inner thighs, gasping when he slowly slipped his finger into your already stuffed cunt. 

rafe slowly moved his finger in and out of you; his gaze fixated on your facial expressions before adding another finger. your body wasn’t accustomed to the feeling, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt when he gently moved his middle and ring fingers, stretching you further. "you ready for more, princess?”. 

“y-yes,” you breathed out, nodding and looking at rafe over your shoulder while trevor’s lips trailed wet kisses from your jaw to neck, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles onto your hips as rafe removed his fingers and settled behind you. rafe spreads your ass cheeks to give him better access and lets a glob of his spit land where you and trevor are joined. 

“shit, princess…pussy is already stuffed full, don’t think there’s any room for me. you sure this tight little hole can take both of us?” rafe teases, running the thick head of his cock up and down your folds. a sharp whimper slips past your lips, burying your face into the crook of your boyfriend’s neck when rafe slowly pushes his tip in. 

your brain short-circuited as rafe slides himself in, pushing his hips forward till his pelvis is flush against your ass, his cock stretching you further than it already was before the two started to slowly thrust into you, allowing your body to grow accustomed to the feeling of both of their cocks inside you.

your whimpers bounce off the walls of rafe’s bedroom, the burning sensation of your pussy being stretched and filled past its limit subsiding as they go back and forth, their cocks steadily moving in and out of you simultaneously.

“such a greedy little slut, your boyfriend doesn’t leave you satisfied, or his dick isn’t enough for you?” rafe taunts, trying to piss your boyfriend off. you squeaked when trevor’s fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, his feet planted onto the firm mattress to harshly thrust up into you, “should be fuckin’ lucky i’m even letting you fuck her, cameron.”. 

your pussy squelches around their cocks as rafe pounds into you mercilessly. his hips snapping against your ass, watching the fatty flesh jiggle, “goddamn, princess, you’re soakin’ my cock. you like this, don’t you? like having your pretty hole stretched and fucked by two cocks?”.

you tried to sit up, only for rafe’s hand to lay flat on your back, holding you on top of trevor. you could feel tears well in your eyes, your nails biting into the skin of trevor’s biceps, leaving crescent-shaped marks as they pushed in and out of your soaked cunt. trevor’s fingers run through your hair, gently tugging your head away from his neck to capture your lips, his tongue pushing into your mouth, swallowing each moan and whimper that slipped from your lips.

“look at you…takin’ both of us at once like the filthy little slut you are,” he groaned, sucking and biting your plump, swollen lips.

you yelp abruptly when rafe’s large palm slaps your ass, your skin stinging from his signet ring catching against your skin. he grabs your hair, twisting it around his wrist to pull your head back. his lips brush against your ear, biting at the lobe, “you just wanna be our little fucktoy for the night, yeah?”.

“yes!” you sob out, their hips smacking into yours, pounding into your cunt relentlessly. their cocks deliciously dragging against your walls with each harsh thrust they give. your eyes squeeze shut when trevor’s hand snakes up your waist to your neck, firmly gripping your throat, forcing you to look him in the eyes, “keep those pretty eyes open, baby.”.

“s’too much,” you whimpered, “shh, you can take it. you’re doing so fuckin’ good,” his thumb prodded your bottom lip, shoving it into your mouth, watching you suck. the persistent abuse on your cervix caused by their cocks had your head spinning, barely able to muster a single thought, let alone words. you couldn’t help but moan around his thumb when rafe slipped his hand around to reach between your thighs, the pads of his fingers deftly rubbing tight circles on your puffy clit. 

the familiar tightening in your stomach had you clenching around them, “you wanna cum for us?” rafe grunted in your ear, his fingers never letting up. your vision blurs, tears streaming down your face, nodding frantically as it all becomes too overwhelming for your poor cunt to handle. 

“we’ll fill you up so fuckin’ good. just be a good girl and cum for us,” trevor rasps, looking up at you, his nails almost breaking skin from his bruising grip on your hips. your walls convulse around them, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your legs shaking uncontrollably at the intense pressure between your thighs. cries of pleasure erupt from your throat, wetness pooling your inner thighs and soaking their cocks.

“oh, fuck—” both men groaned as you collapsed onto trevor’s chest, too fucked out to realize you squirted. 

you could tell rafe was close, his thrusts growing sloppy, and his hips stuttered, giving you a few more thrusts. a strangled moan slips from his mouth, spilling himself inside you, and painting your walls white. you squirm, reaching out to hold onto rafe’s forearm as trevor holds you steady, snapping his hips up into you as he chases after his release, “gonna stuff this perfect cunt full with my cum.”. 

“p-please—“ you mewl; your desperate whimpers and pleas to be stuffed full sent your boyfriend over the edge, pushing his cock deep into your abused cunt, moaning as he empties himself inside you, stuffing you full with his thick cum. 

the room fell silent, only the sounds of the three of you panting filled the room. you stayed on top of trevor, nuzzling your face into the side of his neck in an attempt to catch your breath as he kissed your head, whispering praises into your ear.

you writhed as rafe pulled out and collapsed onto the bed before turning his head to look at the two of you, his chest heaving as he licked his lips, “you gonna let me have her to myself next time?”.

trevor grabs a pillow off the bed, chucking it at him, “next time? fat fuckin’ chance, cameron. you’re lucky you even got a chance.”.

tag list: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @cameronsprincess @starkeysbabygirl @rafecameroninterlude @starkeygirlposts @xxbimbobunnyxx @fae-of-prey @heartsforvin @sturnioloshacker @zyafics @sematarygirls @drewsarms @nemesyaaa @fallbhind @rafesthroatbaby @hallecarey1 @fallrafwe @sturnskiss @blckbrrybasket @rafeyscurtainbangs @wearemadeofstardust0 @honeybunniesoobin @starkeysbebe @spid6y @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @amandabbbbb @kisses4angels @starkeysheart @rafeinterlude @starkeyisthelastname @flvredcas @emilysuperswag @mackenzie-maybank @hyperfixationgirl @ijustwanttoreadlols @slumnit @cl4uus @coco-cinnamon @zayluvss @stoned-writer

[eclips-moon]

Cute things the Batboys do in a relationship:

Dick Grayson (Nightwing)

Morning Texts: This dude lives for sending those “Good morning, beautiful ” texts, usually with some goofy selfie where his hair’s a mess. He just wants to be the first thing you smile about.

Random Dance Breaks: If you’re in the kitchen or just standing around, Dick will 100% spin you around for a random dance. He’ll hum some random tune and make you laugh like it’s a movie moment.

Spontaneous Picnics: Out of nowhere, he’ll hit you with a “meet me at the park” text, and you show up to find he’s got a whole cute picnic setup. The dude’s got snacks, a blanket, and everything ready like a rom-com lead.

Cuddle Monster: Watching a movie? Cuddling. Sitting on the couch? Cuddling. He’s got an arm around you, pulling you into his chest every chance he gets. And don’t even get me started on bedtime—he’s glued to you.

Pet Names: You’re never just your name. It’s always “Sweetheart,” “Princess,” or something that’ll make you blush and roll your eyes. He loves seeing you react.

Jason Todd (Red Hood)

Cooking Shenanigans: He’s lowkey a beast in the kitchen, but acts like he needs your help. Next thing you know, you’re tossing flour at each other, making a mess, and laughing like idiots.

Protective as Hell: Jason’s that guy who’ll drape his jacket over you before you even realize you’re cold. If it’s raining, he’s got the umbrella over you—he doesn’t care if he gets soaked.

Books & Notes: He’ll leave books for you to read with little handwritten notes inside. Some are funny, some are deep, but he’s always thinking about you even when he’s not there.

Late Night Rides: He’s all about taking you on rides around the city late at night. It’s quiet, and the world feels like it’s just the two of you while the cool breeze whips by.

Forehead Kisses: Not super into PDA, but will definitely kiss your forehead when it’s just you two. It's his way of saying “I got you” without saying a word.

Tim Drake (Red Robin)

Study Dates: Tim’s ideal date is just chilling in a coffee shop, both of you working on stuff, but occasionally reaching over to hold hands or sneak in a quick kiss. He’s not the clingy type, but loves quiet closeness.

Geeky Gifts: He’s that guy who’ll surprise you with some gadget or comic you mentioned once. His memory for stuff you like is insane, and he’ll always find something that makes you smile.

Random Nerd Facts: You’ll be mid-conversation and he’ll just drop some random fact about the universe or tech that he knows will make you roll your eyes. He lives for those reactions.

Caring Vibes: Tim’s the type to bring you tea when you’re stressed or randomly tell you to take a break. And when you’re sad? He’ll pull you into his lap without saying anything—just wants to make sure you’re okay.

Subtle Compliments: He’s not super vocal, but you’ll catch him staring at you, and when you ask why, he’ll just casually be like, “You’re stunning,” with the softest smile. Smooth af.

Damian Wayne (Robin)

Low-Key Sweet: Damian won’t say it, but he shows love in little ways. Your favorite snack? He’ll just get it. Something broken? Fixed. His love language is basically “silent but effective.”

Learning Your Hobbies: Whatever you’re into, he’ll make it his mission to learn it. You mention an interest? Bet, he’s researching it like it’s a case for Batman. It’s his way of being involved without being obvious.

Animals Everywhere: He’s constantly bringing over animals, like “This cat needs to meet you.” If his pets like you, that’s basically a proposal in Damian-speak. And they always like you.

Art Hangouts: He loves painting, so sometimes he’ll invite you to join him, and it turns into a competition of who can make the dumbest art. Expect lots of teasing.

Acts of Service: He won’t say “I love you” all the time, but you’ll feel it in the way he does things for you—like carrying your stuff, fixing something, or just being there when you need him.

[taeyongdoyoung]

wolf and bunny

summary: you ask your best friend to fuck you in your sleep but your bottled up feelings come out to the surface... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to lovers warnings: cnc/somnophilia, discussion of boundaries, eating out, touching, groping, unprotected sex, spanking, stranger+wolf/bunny roleplay, little red riding hood references, face-slapping (once), size kink, cockwarming, multiple rounds, feelings (ew), pet names, discussion of future scenario 👀 (i know i said this is the end but...we'll see) author's note: hii everyone, this is the third and final part of my wolf and bunny series, thank you so much for going on this nasty journey with me 🤍 part one & part two word count: 2k

You and Chan are having a bit of a disagreement in connection with the circumstances surrounding your next game.

“But I want to know exactly which night you’ll do it.”

“If you know, you won’t be able to fall asleep,” Chan reasons with you. “Kinda like Santa Claus. Kids stay up all night waiting for him and then he never comes.”

“Please, even if the kids were asleep, he’d still never come ‘cause the parents are putting the presents under the tree!”

“It was just a metaphor.”

“A bad one. You’re gonna have to work harder to convince me.”

“Hey, wasn’t this your idea in the first place?” Chan reminds you teasingly. “You’re the one who wants me to fuck her in her sleep.”

“Ey, don’t pretend you won’t be into it,” you shake your head.

You are both so stubborn you don’t see this ending unless one of you retreats. Then, after a brief consideration, you speak again.

“Fine. You can keep the secret of the exact night you’ll do this. On one condition.”

“Sure, bunny, let’s hear it,” Chan listens eagerly.

“If I wake up, you won’t stop. I’ll just pretend I’m still sleepy and we keep going.”

“Is that even possible? I mean, for you to not wake up?”

“It is if you drug me or something,” you shrug.

“Ugh, don’t give me such evil ideas. You never know when I might take advantage of you.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it, wolfie.”

“But are you sure the sleep thing is a great idea? I mean, you wouldn't be able to say a safeword...” Chan can't help but worry, always putting your needs first and planning every scenario in great detail to make sure you're alright. Damnit, could he get any more perfect? He's so sweet and considerate you wish you could just tell him how you feel. But what if that scares him away? What if you lose not only your wicked game buddy but your best friend in the entire world? You wouldn't be able to live with yourself.

“Yes, I'm positive, Chris,” you place your hand on top of his. “I trust you 100% and know that you'll look after me. The question is, do you trust my judgement?”

“I mean, I do trust you. It's just that last time you didn't communicate your discomfort clearly and I wouldn't want to risk messing up to the point of accidentally hurting you,” Chan verbalizes his anxieties.

“I get what you're saying but it's not like I'm open to doing this with a stranger. It's you we're talking about. You've always been great at taking care of people so I know you wouldn't go too far. But at the same time, I wouldn't mind if you went loose. If anyone can take it and accept you fully, it would be me.”

“Yeah, I know. You're right. But just in case, I want you to know beforehand that I care about you and respect you like a lot. So, even if I get carried away, I still want you to feel safe.”

“Aww, Chris, ya old softie! I always feel safe with you, it goes without saying!” you insist.

“Well, I like hearing you say it.”

You gulp nervously. His voice is so commanding and yet so reassuring that your words have never rung truer. He's more to you than a safety net and you hope he knows it. He's incredibly thoughtful and infinitely kinder than the first impression. He's a riddle in the way he keeps surprising you and yet you wanna keep learning more about him. He's hundreds of the loveliest words in the dictionary multiplied. He's more comforting than your favourite blanket. He's warmth personified and you would be an idiot to let him go.

“I'll try to say it more often, then,” you promise. “When I'm with you, I know no harm will come my way. But here's the thing...you're the only one I'd willingly let hurt me.”

“I don't want to hurt you, though.”

“You don't?” you pout, suddenly feeling guilty. Then, what have you been doing? Was he forcing himself to act out these fantasies for your sake alone? You genuinely thought he was enjoying them as much as you were.

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” Chan is quick to explain. “I like our games. I meant that I don't want to hurt you emotionally. Ever.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense,” you chuckle, feeling a little stupid. “Well, you don't need to worry about that. Glad we had this talk.”

“Me too,” Chan gazes at you fondly.

“So, which night are you fucking me while I'm asleep?” you attempt to find out while he has this dazed look in his eye.

“Next- Hey, nice try! I'm not telling you, you impatient devil.”

“Aw, man, I was so close,” you bemoan the uncertainty of your future.

“You wish.”

The long-awaited night finally arrives. Chan has a key to your place so entering it is too easy. He makes sure he picks a night when you’ve complained about being exhausted and sleepy all day long. And he is certain that you’re passed out in your room, not suspecting a thing. Well, a part of you is always anticipating what could happen, but still.

He’s beyond glad to find you sound asleep. You’re wearing nothing but a t-shirt and some flimsy panties. Chan admires your sleeping form for a couple of brief moments before he gets down to business.

He wonders where to start. Should he tear them up? Or maybe push them to the side? Should he grope your boobs through your shirt? Or perhaps slide his hands beneath it, stroking your nipples directly? So many opportunities. He wants to do everything, he decides.

Chan starts by moving your panties to the side and licking your tiny pussy. He touches you with his fingers, gently prodding your entrance but not exactly sticking them inside yet. Then, he sneaks his hand underneath your shirt, teasing your nipples. Fuck, you’re so soft.

He marvels at the knowledge that you’d trust him with something like that. Though the previous scenarios were hot and intense as fuck, this one hits different for him. Maybe because last time you were awake, you were still in control because you could say the safeword whenever. Maybe because you want him at your most vulnerable even in your sleep. Or maybe because he’s slowly falling for you, but he doesn’t know how to say it.

It’s okay. Chan’ll show you, instead. He pinches your nipples lightly and continues to make out with your pussy. You are so wet already it’s adorable. He wonders if you’re dreaming of him, as you shift slightly in your sleep. He wants to drag this out. But how?

He uses his nails to trace circles on your skin, which causes goosebumps to appear. Are you cold? He wants to keep you warm and full at all times. Chan can’t take it any longer and takes his cock out, sliding in so perfectly. As if you were made for him. Made to take his cock and let him do crazy things to you. His sweet little bunny…

You moan desperately and the spell is broken. You’re awake. He wanders if you’ll speak or he’ll have to make you. Both options sound quite appealing. But he wants to hear your voice more than anything.

“Shhh, go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Chan whispers gently.

“W-who are you?” you cry out.

Aw, you’re gonna pretend not to know him? That hurts. But it can be fun, he thinks.

“Just the big bad wolf,” he chuckles at the irony of it.

“Please, don't do this,” you fake not wanting it, even though you've never wanted anything so badly in your life.

“Oh, bunny, but I already am,” Chan replies, spanking your ass a couple of times in the meantime.

“G-gonna split me in h-half,” you mumble, voice muffled against your pillow.

“Yeah? G'na ruin my sweet girl?” he speaks to you so softly you want to melt right there and then.

“Feel so full 'n so s'eepy,” you slur helplessly.

“Aw, tiny, go back to sleep, then,” Chan pats your head soothingly.

“Can't. What a deep voice you have!” you play along too well.

“All the better to degrade you with, my slutty bun,” Chan laughs, while still continuing to fuck you.

“What big hands you have!” you keep saying.

“All the better to grab your tits with,” Chan chuckles and makes good on his promise by playing with your boobs.

“And slap me with!” you remind him playfully.

“As you wish, princess,” Chan growls and slaps you across the face harshly but not harsh enough to actually leave a mark.

“What big eyes you have,” you sigh wistfully.

“All the better to stare at you fall apart,” Chan responds cleverly.

“And what big cock you have!” you scream, barely resisting the urge to laugh. Are you a silly little bunny or Little Red Riding Hood? At this point, you don't care, but it feels too good regardless.

“All the better to fuck you with,” he grunts loudly, spilling inside of you.

You follow rightaway and urge him to stay like this for a while. Maybe round two is in order?

“You know what else is big?” Chan teases you.

“Oh, shut up, Bigfoot!” you reply and are no longer able to hold it in, breaking into laughter. Chan also finds the interaction hilarious and buries his head in the nook of your shoulder. You stroke his hair without realizing. Shit, he's so adorable you almost say the three words. Is it too risky? Too soon? You need a distraction. You need... “Fuck me again.”

“Already? Aren't you tired?” Chan wants to make sure.

“Fuck me till I fall asleep again,” you ask him.

“Um, okay, sure,” Chan looks a bit confused but does as you ask.

This time there is less talking and more fucking but no matter how many rounds you go, sleep doesn't come again. You both orgasm more times than you could count, but somehow, it isn't nearly enough to distract you from the inevitable. You love him. Your heart knows it, your pussy knows it, even your brain knows it but is stubborny telling you not to confess for fear of somehow ruining things.

Once Chan decides he's completely spent for the night, he pulls out of you and rips off the bandaid.

“Are you alright? Something suddenly shifted but I can't quite place it,” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and nudges you softly with his shoulder.

“Do you want the truth that might mess up everything or do you want me to lie to you and say I'm fine?” you ask, even though you're already on the verge to tell the truth.

“With you? Always the truth, please,” Chan clearly states his preference.

You sigh deeply and tilt to the side so you're facing him properly.

“I think...no, I know I love you.”

“I love you, too, babybun,” Chan responds fondly and kisses you on the nose.

“In a non-friendly way. And I don't mean just sexually, either. I mean, the friendly way and the sexual way haven't diminished, of course. But I also love you in a...I want to be yours, your girlfriend, your lover, your romantic partner, your everything.”

Chan is taken aback by your words. You...feel the same?

“You already are,” he confesses genuinely.

“Huh?” you blink in shock.

“I mean...you are already my everything. But, if you'd like me to officially ask you, then...will you be my girlfriend, angel?”

“You...you'll have me?” you are still in disbelief.

“I thought I already had ya,” Chan pinches your cheeks lightly.

“Damn right you do, Mr. Wolf,” you giggle and pull him into a kiss.

He smells like autumn, his embrace exudes warmth and his lips taste like home.

“You have no idea how badly I've wanted to tell you about my feelings,” Chan confesses. “When I found that story of yours in your drafts, I just couldn't resist the opportunity. I hoped that if I turned your fantasies into reality that you'd eventually fall for me.”

“Oh, Channie...I've been falling for you for longer than you realize,” you admit shyly. “How could I not? You're everything I've ever wanted.”

So, this is what it feels like to have the world in your hands. Huh. You could get used to it.

Bonus:

“No, I'm not kidnapping you!” Chan is adamant as you two sit in a nice restaurant.

“But Chriiiis,” you whine. “You said you'd do anything for my birthday.”

“Anything but that!” Chan shakes his head in amusement.

“Why not? It can be fun!”

“Fun? What if something goes wrong, what if someone sees us and thinks I'm actually kidnapping you, what if...hear me out, here, I go to prison for it?”

“Well, duh, then I'd bail you out!”

“As if you could afford it,” Chan rolls his eyes.

“Hey! But seriously, I'll just tell the cops that I asked you to kidnap me.”

“What if they don't believe you and think you have a Stockholm syndrome?”

“I'll...think of something. Come on, we're going too far with the what-ifs.”

“You gotta be prepared for any situation. You'd know that if you carried the heavy burden of being a dom,” Chan tsks at you.

“I'd know that if you let me,” you give him a wink.

“That will only happen the day I agree to fake-kidnap you.”

“So, tomorrow? It's a date!” you grin excitedly.

“Keep dreaming, darling.”

“Oh, I will.”

The End

[acid-ixx]

How do think readers relationship with each of the batfam would be had they not been neglected?

what if...? ft. domestic headcanons w/ your family

series masterlist &. request masterlist — long post ahead !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 6400+ words, no beta i'm genuinely insane. help i literally thought abt this yesterday !! i may or may not post a drabble about this one specific dream the reader had about where they had a normal relationship with the batfam but at the same time i want to implement it in the next chapter instead so have food for thoughts instead! slight spoilers below. also please do comment and reblog if u like this ! ^^ supporting my writing just makes me further motivated to write even more !

if you were never neglected by your own family, then i could say that the process of them turning yandere would be a tad bit better or worse. i'm saying, because of your past and because of an incident during your elementary years (that could've been avoided if your family actually never ignored you; so let's assume that that incident actually never happened but it opened a gateway for an even more protective family) the batfam could easily be either a dream or nightmare.

let's say it was bruce and dick who had picked you up from the police station. the moment he sees his own firstborn child, all his thoughts would circulate from just how broken and hopeless you absolutely looked, how the injuries litter throughout your entire body, the way your empty eyes stare at anything.

the child, his child, looked exactly like him all those years ago. he knows just how painful it is to bare losing all your loved ones.

he wouldn't hesitate to approach your form, immediately picking you up and letting your head lean on his shoulders as dick follows in tow, cooing about his significantly younger sibling.

that would be the first time dick would call you his baby bird, with the way you'd stare at him with mixed emotions in your eyes.

if him and dick were to hear about what happened to you inside your old apartment from the police (drugged and abused by the same men who took your mother away from you), then be guaranteed that batman and nightwing would be more brutal during their patrol afterwards (dick would even take more weeks off from bludhaven just to care for his younger sibling), even going as far as formulating a plan for your captors, having oracle stalk each and every person involved in your life.

if anyone thinks the vigilante would abide by his no-kill rule then they're wrong, because he'd turn a blind eye for once if dick were to brutally stab someone at any moment. why? because batman will not settle until his own child's attackers are thrown into putrid prison cells with no guarantee that they'll see the light of the day. the criminals should be grateful that red hood isn't even in the picture yet.

your father would be more perceptive of your emotions if he had never neglected you. he will always be the one giving you rides, he'll shield you away from the mass media trying to take photographs of you— and you're getting carried throughout the manor if your little body were to even express fatigue.

bruce wayne wouldn't admit it, but he absolutely cherishes you and your youth. he had adopted dick and grayson when they were above the age of ten, when they were already growing some sort of consciousness about the world they live in. but you? you're so small and you have so much to learn, your innocence is something bruce would protect. you'll be absolutely coddled by your father, your grandfather figure, alfred, and your oldest brother, dick. even future members of the family knows just how important you are maintaining their sanity.

that means you have the manor in the palm of your hands. you had a nightmare tonight? don't worry, your dad would always be one step ahead of you and would immediately be in your room. hell, if you were comfortable enough, you'd be sleeping in the same bedroom as your dad for the first few years you'll live inside the manor. he'll read you bedtime stories if you want and even have alfred prepare you warm milk or chocolate before you go to sleep. his entire schedule would also be centered around you, making sure that he would always arrive on time from business meetings to have dinner with you, and coming home early from patrols. if he leaves the manor before you're set off to sleep, then he'll be giving you a good night's kiss whilst alfred would be the one substituting for your nightly bedtime stories.

you may call him overbearing once you start to notice the signs the more you grow older, but your father will always track your sleep schedule - he even makes you wear a watch that records your heart rate - from the moment you drift into dreamland to the times you get nightmares— he makes sure the food you eat before dinner is light, booking appointments with nutritionists to make sure you're healthy. he even does specialized training with you, for self defence and to also maintain a healthy lifestyle.

and dick grayson? his visits to gotham would be more frequent. even if his relationship with bruce is strained, he'll always be in the manor faster than you could say 'i miss you' to your older brother on the phone. he loves coddling his baby bird, especially since you were adopted right after jason's death; dick doesn't want a repeat of the past, always making sure you get proper cuddles and affirmations.

spending time with dick means you get all the power to draw on his arms or face or make arts and crafts with him. he enjoys it when his baby bird is at their comfiest state so even if you were seated on the floor, there would always be cozy blankets that count as your chairs and snacks right beside you. you could ask him to get something for you and he's right at it.

he would be the older brother who normalizes physical affection in the household. dick would constantly kiss your cheeks, your foreheads, and any injuries you would obtain (a habit that even bruce adopted once your dad realized how it's an effective way to soften your cries and ease your heart). he's not afraid of picking you up even! always tossing you to the air under alfred or bruce's supervision whenever you feel down. dick would always hold your hand, too, as an assurance that your beloved older brother is always there for you.

you'd probably ignore all the red flags he carries around because of how early he shows off his signs of obsessiveness. so don't question it if him and bruce wouldn't allow you to go to sleepovers with your other friends or if sometimes, just sometimes dick feels the need to just have you in his arms for hours without end after particularly brutal patrols. you're the only person holding him up and if he doesn't breath in that reminder then he might just lose himself.

your brother would literally prioritize you over anything else. he can and will pick you up from school, he makes sure nobody in your class is there to bully you, he'll spoil you with sweet treats whenever bruce is too busy with business meetings. he wants to be seen as your favorite ever since he's discovered himself to be your idol, so he'll always show off his acrobatic skills for your eyes only.

whenever dick would say "i love you!" it always translates to, "if you want me to, then i will give you the world." which means he'll drop anything he's doing right now the moment you invite him over to design your diaries or sketchbooks.

your talents very early on would be heavily acknowledged by your family. that means any single drawing or craft you'd do, whether poorly done or not, would be stored in very protective places or shows off in every crevice of the manor. any father's day gift from you would be framed in bruce's personal office, a personal reminder to him that you are the light at the end of the brooding tunnel he puts himself in. so even if he can't always be there for you, he will always have you in his mind and in his heart.

your existence in the manor would prove to be a healthier way for bruce to cope, for him to get his mind off of the loss of his second child. whenever he looks at you, he'll always be filled with a determination to protect gotham from any further danger, to save the city - if not himself, then for your sake, for his baby to feel safe whenever they would walk on the streets, for his baby to feel protected whenever you two would eat in fancy restaurants or go shopping for your diary's supplies.

criminals would immediately get the message that messing with you means getting on the bad side of both batman and nightwing. you may be the child of bruce wayne, (name) wayne, but if they even think of kidnapping you for ransom then they should pray; pray because if batman's baby even gets a single nick, a single droplet of blood on their body then they're gone. there's no such thing as holding back if it comes to you.

now, your older sister figure, barbara gordon, despite her constantly being busy because of her role as the oracle, would find ways to at least entertain you whenever you would visit her in the batcave. if you feel like your father's overprotective nature and your older brother's coddling is too much, then she will be offer you solace by her side. she may not always be physically there but you two are as close as you are to the other members of your family because you're a creative one. it's not often barbara gets to spend time with someone like you who enjoys having her as a muse for your art pieces. she allows you to also style her hair, and if you like to design clothing, then she'd be your model for as much as you want.

barbara is also your go-to for when dick and bruce are both unavailable. she lets you watch her hack through multiple security systems, explaining concepts that you don't understand. and, because she's the most emotionally stable out of all of them, you'd prefer gossiping to her about your school's drama compared to dick, as she actually gives you helpful advice!

well, little do you know that she had already hacked your school's camera footage and wired multiple recorders on your bag but you don't have to know that! after all, barbara wants to keep the only sane person in the household safe and happy. she's not openly obsessive towards you, but whatever secrets you have that don't compromise your safety are secrets she promises she will bring to the grave. that means if you ever have a crush on a someone then she will hide it from the others.

... that is until you actually end up trying to get into a relationship too early for even her eyes then she won't hesitate sending out the signals to bruce and the others. she can't afford exposing her younger sibling to heartbreaks and emotional attachment towards strangers! so do forgive her if there are times where you feel like there's someone constantly watching your back, because she is that someone; with all the intentions in the world that you wouldn't have to go through what she did with the joker or any other villains who could whisk you away from their arms.

it's obvious that, of course the oracle will use all the power in her hands to guarantee all eyes are on you, so that there would never be an opening for any danger towards you. even if you do know that she's the one in-control of the strings, there's not much you could do but accept it.

then there's tim drake. your brother who had stalked batman and nightwing just to prove a point. his parents are alive and he's fine being on his own, but fuck it if he prefers being in the wayne manor! once you're introduced to tim, he's immediately researching about the first biological child of bruce wayne. and thank god bruce requires the two of you to become familiar with each other because you're just so interesting to him, you and your curious eyes, your small habits— the way you shift in your position as your father's hands are clasped on your shoulder protectively.

tim can already feel himself blast off in excitement just solving the mysteries about you! yet he doesn't know it in himself that the longer you spend time with him, the more the urge to just stitch himself into your very life grows stronger.

if you were never neglected by your own family then you would instead be analyzed constantly. tim is just another set of eyes constantly watching you, but unlike the others, he picks off every single detail about you to a T.

you, your interests, your hobbies, your favorites, your friends, you name it; he will have an entire collection of case files on everything, picking apart your very mind to the seams. it's like he's eating up the information about you, spending sleepless nights researching about a movie you two would watch soon, because the look of amazement in your eyes feeds the growing love he has for his sibling.

at first he'd never understand why bruce and dick seems so smitten towards you other than the case regarding your mother. but he slowly starts to understand why— because just like him, you're perceptive of his well-being. if dick isn't around then you're always the one hanging around his room, visiting him with snacks in your arms or an invitation to watch a cartoon show.

he likes doing your assignments for you, especially your projects even if he neglects his own duties for his own school. and despite how emotionally constipated or unaware he seems, he's obsessed with your personal life. that means you don't even have to rant to him about school drama or your friends or crush because he can and will know it. what he doesn't like, though, is when your attention is towards anything but him. he may not be the most physically comfortable to cuddle but he will offer you his jackets which he would end up not washing right after you use them, instead he wears them, feeling closer to you than ever.

it even lulls him to sleep for the times you're unable to sleep over at his room.

tim may not know how to comfort you like dick whenever you wake up from nightmares but he does know ways to avoid them; he knows a lot of strategic methods to get you drowsy after a moment's panic.

bonus points if you cuddle him afterwards! he loves the warmth that you emanate, loves it when your body leans against him and makes him feel so important. tim loves it when you snuggle him unknowingly, tightening your already bruising grip on him, he loves reciprocating it too, feeling a special bond with his sibling that not even his parents could offer.

though he doesn't openly tell you that he loves you, he does so in his own ways! you don't want to see an entire photography room dedicated to his younger sibling— most pictures contributed by tim. you don't want to see the terabytes of files that are all about you and your interests, millions of video imagery of just you sketching or writing diary entries, sometimes eating or rambling senselessly. you don't know it but tim loves playing the videos of you in the background, especially the ones where you're humming a tune or singing a lullaby; those are his favorites.

it's not his fault that you're just so interesting to him, that your presence is so comforting, that you're the only person closest to him that has the ability to make him melt into you, unknowingly succumbing to your spoiled wishes.

jason todd comes into the picture later, and he is a very enraged man. he's mad at his replacement, at bruce, at you, at the entire universe.

at first he just doesn't understand anything. he doesn't understand why bruce finds it so easy to not only replace his status as robin but to also bring in another child, who's valued and loved more despite not taking the mantle of robin. he's mad at just how quick he was replaced, how it seems like bruce never avenged him, and yet if he threatens your safety then the old man suddenly turns violent towards him?!

jason wouldn't bring you into the fray, because you're unaware of the entire situation, but fuck, he doesn't understand why you are just so cherished when he'd watch the news and sees your picture plastered all over the reporters' walls, talking about the child who bruce never allowed to separate from his side. they talk about how you're the sheltered one, the hearthrob of all media with just how clingy the billionaire is towards his supposed younger sibling.

he's not jealous, he gets why bruce is protective and smothers himself all over you; but he hates feeling replaced, feeling discarded and forgotten by the very man who'll avenge your death if that ever happened.

hence why he has to see it for himself, has to see you for himself. it's a coincidence, a miracle actually that he just seems to easily find you by the kitchen of the manor— a manor whose aura is now different from last time, it seems like it now reeks of life, of personality. clearly you were the main cause of all of this.

you could simply be reading a book and sipping your nightly tea, but jason would soon realize just how... vulnerable you are at the moment. you find him hiding in the shadows and all you offer is a wide stare with no sense of self defense whatsoever. it's the same vulnerability that he sees off the cruelest streets of gotham. you're exactly like the innocent kids who get brutally murdered without justice, just like the children who have never once gained penance for the torture they had to experience just living off of personality.

jason isn't a dumbass, living near the crime alley means hearing the gossips of every citizen. your name, or preferably your last name is famed even in the underground. your mother is infamous for catching the attention of most crime lords by running off with their cash, successful staying hidden to care for her child, just right until she met her untimely demise. you lost her early just like how he lost his mother early as she had fallen victim to drug overdose.

he'll discover why gotham's vigilante seems to be so protective over you. the way you carry yourself, the warmth you give off as you offer him your leftover dinner despite not

you told him that your dad taught you to never talk to strangers— but clearly he's not because "how else would you be able to trespass the millions of security alarms in the manor? you must've lived here before." you'll state as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, sipping your drink before you offer him a seat next to yours, unafraid of the dangers that lie ahead of you—

"you must've really been pampered by the old man, huh?" is all his reply, the voice changer of his makes him sound naturally intimidating, like he's ready to attack but no, that's not his intentions with you. he'll take a seat beside you, try to make out what book you're reading and that's when he knows that you truly have no idea that it's your dead brother who's talking to you. you have no idea of his resurrection whatsoever as you start to mumble off about the novel— he finds it quite amusing that, finally, he's not the only guy who enjoys literature in the family, even going as far as to recommend his own fair share of favorite novels to you.

once he leaves out of the window after a seemingly long session of talking, definitely aware that yes, bruce does have a microchip inserted under your skin, and the watch you're wearing has a voice recorder that sends recordings straight to the batcave's system; jason takes note to visit you more often, finding the normalcy you offer very welcoming.

he likes it, likes your mellow behavior. he'll even admit that you're the only proof that bruce can, in fact, raise a child right, even if that means tracking their entire life. but that's the old man's love language, and jason knows it in himself that he's already planning for a way to take you to ride his motorcycle at night without bruce's knowledge; just so his angel knows the feeling of gotham's breeze flowing through their hair since bruce seems to love dictating your every move.

once he does form a solid plan to take you away, even just temporarily, you don't have to worry about the criminals who litter the streets because jason made sure that nobody's gonna mess with him and his angel's bonding time together.

the youngest, damian wayne, and the second biological child of bruce is a special case. his upbringing as an assassin makes him susceptible to his fits of tantrums. the first time he steps foot into the manor is the same time he will threaten anyone around him; and that includes you, the bastard child. quite frankly, your first greeting with him would be the same as the one in the original storyline, you'll greet him with a tray of sweets in your hand and a small smile and he'll reply with a sword on your neck. but the difference would be the undeniable fact that dick and bruce immediately stopped him from even nicking your delicate skin.

dick's swearing was shut down by alfred's scolding and you, again! pulling on your oldest brother's sleeve with an assurance that you're okay.

that's the very first time he sees his father truly reprimand him with nothing but rage in his eyes. despite damian's annoying antics towards his father the entire day, it seems like you were the snapping point.

his father, bruce wayne, made it very clear that he can mess with anyone and everyone in the family but you. that you have nothing to

his only reply would be a sneer as he demands they take him to his room immediately, unable to shut you down when you offer to help bring his luggage despite bruce's firm unwillingness and dick's hesitant request that his baby bird should instead spend time in his room instead.

but it was always your word above everybody else's and damian hates that, hates that everyone just seems to succumb to your request as long as it doesn't compromise your safety. the bitterness that keeps resurfacing in his heart whenever he sees you wearing tim or dick's jacket, or if he caught sight of bruce giving you affection was a feeling he tried to convince himself wasn't jealousy.

not jealousy towards you, no, but towards them. your behavior towards him was nothing but kind, a kindness that was taught to him as weakness. he thinks you're weak and undeserving of being spoiled and yet he hates it whenever he sees his blood sibling (whom he called a bastard child so many times) become too close with anyone but him.

he hates it, he hates you and his conflicting feelings. he hates it when he pushes you away, hates it when he sees you pout after another failed attempt at trying to have your youngest sibling talk to you.

and as the days or even weeks pass by, with all your effort to try to bond with him, with the days where he can feel dick's energy drain because you insisted on spending time with damian instead of dick again, with tim's intolerable treatment towards the him because you chose to bother damian instead of that loser— are the days he feels himself actually becoming closer to you because he relishes in your insufferable behavior towards them, because you just seem so sweet to him.

damian feels that it's right that you make him the exception.

so it's inevitable that damian will eventually discover both your talents towards art and the love for nature. it's a mistake, really, when one day as he stalks through the hallways he'd find you in your own atelier, painting a portrait of a robin with a color scheme that matches his vigilante suit. the beams of sunlight seems to hit you just right because you looked so at peace with your surroundings, humming a tune, unaware of your youngest brother who has found himself at your most natural state.

he'll budge in without moment's hesitation afterwards, steering clear behind you as he analyzes your art. it would only be after a few minutes would he announce his presence in the room, expecting you to scream at him to buzz off but all you did was jump in your seat, looking back to eye the intruder only to find out it was damian all along, offering him a smile and a seat beside you.

after he does so, you'll both end up spending the entire day bombarding each other with art tips and animal facts. he'll give you comments about the bird's proportions and you give him guidelines on how to properly mix your colors without it looking muddled. it's like you two are meant to be siblings because damian swears he ended up clinging to your side after your painting session, refusing to even seat beside anyone during dinner time if it isn't you because he's not done rambling about the rainbow eucalyptus you had told him you'd seen in a nature documentary once— so it's rightfully his place to be beside you and not drake's or grayson's or even his father.

eventually you two would be as close as peas in a pod because you're seemingly the only one who knows how to calm him down, the only one with the right to raise your voice at him and to ask him of favors because you're his blood sibling. and because you both share the same blood, that means you both should share clothes that complement each other, share snacks and treats, share matching bracelets and necklaces and any jewelry, you're the only one allowed to hang around his room and him in yours.

the others find it annoying that you let him be, but what choice do they have? unless they would like to hear an earful from damian then they should stay silent because you both aren't done painting each other's nails yet!

stephanie brown is shortly introduced to you after her incessant insistence on meeting you right after stepping foot into the manor. she knows of your internet fame for being the beloved bruce wayne's 'favorite' child and she's not afraid to admit that you are indeed adorable in person! unlike your first meeting with damian, steph would immediately coddle you at first glance, insisting you call her by 'steph' and that

due to the short period of time as her robin and her being constantly reprimanded for her antics, you'd take it in yourself to become closer with her, and she accepts your offer without any complaints. she's also one of your muses for your art and it's a good thing she has a sense of style unlike your brothers who are either too flashy (you had to stifle a laughter looking at the discowing costume) or too dull. damian's fashion sense is good but he's often out during the time period you spend with steph, and even if she often doesn't stay still, you at least hsve someone to talk your ears off whilst you try to sketch the poses she chose.

her obsession towards you stems from your willingness to "match her freak" or whatever internet lingo she finds that day, but she's a fun company to be around! she's always there for you when you need to rant about anything regarding your feelings, especially since you're at the age where you're a teenager and your emotions towards your family would be all over the place and she'd relate the most towards that.

so other than barbara, you'll find yourself speaking up about any concerns you have to steph, and she turns your 'favoritism' towards her her entire personality.

but if you think of even spilling your secrets about a highschool crush to steph or news that someone had asked you out for prom them then spoiler alert! don't. like her mentor, steph will drop signs and clues and your brothers would promptly deal with that. awe, don't worry about feeling alone though or if you weren't permitted to go to your highschool prom because steph and babs will be the ones to convince bruce to throw you your own very elegant gala where you would dance with only your siblings!

see, isn't she so strategic that way? psht, you don't need a boy or a girl acting as your temporary reprieve when your entire family is there for you! steph is here for you and you did technically promise to go out with her today to go shopping so...

it's not that she isn't on your side, no! but you're very much the entire family's baby and she doesn't want you losing your attention on her, definitely not! her goofy personality towards you really does cover her intense urge to be by your side really well. unlike damian, it's not obvious that she's trying so hard to monopolize your time for herself but you're just so fun to be around and she's at her best behavior when it comes to you.

so what's wrong if she ditches her other friends to bond with her beloved sibling? it's not like they'd understand what it's like having someone who actually looks at her for her rather than just the surface level.

don't question why most of the gifts she had given you (which ranges from attires like jackets and shles, to matching bracelets, even little fidget toys) all don a shade of purple and blue! and don't also question why her gallery is filled with cute selfies of you and why your phone's lock screen wallpaper is now suddenly matching with hers.

after all, steph likes making it known that you are her favorite!

cassandra cain, when she first saw you, is, of course, silent. but she makes her presence known quickly after she has enough proof that you've no fight in your body. she may not be the most expressive in words but she is through actions.

you were actually the one who had first approached her after bruce initially introduced you two to each other, offering her a handshake and a greeting in sign language. albeit it being crusty, and her insisting that it's alright if you do the talking, it seems like you were more than willing to learn sign language just for the sake of your new sister and she likes it.

she really, really likes it, appreciates how there were no signs of malice in your movements and just how comfortable you seemed with someone who could potentially end your life with just a snap of her fingers. and yet you treat her like she's not a weapon of murder but rather another sibling who is welcomed into your own world.

you ask her if she wants to hang out with you and steph in your own personal sleepover inside your room and she accepts it because of just how comforting your presence is. it's been so long since she had last felt like she was treated as a human and you were proof that she's glad she never took the path to human carnage like her father intended her to because then she wouldn't meet someone who would soon be so precious to her.

cass may not talk a lot but she is a listener.

a listener to both your words and your body language. it's quicker for her to notice if you ever needed a hug or a catalyst for comfort. she knows your boundaries and when you need space the most. she knows it when you want to open up to her about how stuffy the manor is beginning to feel, how it feels as if they're becoming more sensitive about your social life, how you wish your friends aren't distancing themselves from you because of how intimidating your family is.

and you can say all that to her because cass, alongside duke and sometimes steph, would be the only ones keeping your deepest darkest desires to their grave. although she may not understand your reasonings on why you even felt like your family is coddling you too much (because they're not! they love you very much and she does too) in the first place, she's always the one offering you to hold her hands whenever you're going through a momentary panic attack or a shoulder to lean on whenever dick would scold you for something impulsive you've done.

unlike your neglected counterpart, cass would always be by your shadows, watching every one of your moves and to abide by bruce's order to make sure you wouldn't escape, shall you ever feel rebellious during your teenage years. you may be older than her but she's stronger than you, more experienced and can even combat your dad if she wants to.

yet she always seems to let her guard down when it comes to you because you just seem to have that alluring effect on everybody. can't you understand just how important you are to everybody? you're the most important to her, you're one of the first few people who had treated her like a human so she swears on her life to protect you from harm's way like you did her whenever she's often in a pit of despair.

cass isn't the most expressive, so she makes up for it by instead leaving signs that she really cares for you, or sometimes hiding little trinkets for you to find in your room. it's like her very own message that translates 'cass was here'.

whenever you sit beside her at the dinner table, she always slips in extra food by your plate without you looking or sometimes even filling your glass bottles with extra juice and you'll never know why until you realize that it's her way of telling you to eat more. sometimes, your clothes would go missing until you see your sisters wearing your own collection of jackets and hoodies then swapping them in your drawers for their own— you'd realize that cass got that idea from steph and you can't get mad at her or anybody else as it soon becomes tradition that you'll have an entire closet dedicating to the missing clothes you have that your siblings have replaced to their own attire.

cass really does love you and although she can't always say it out loud, you'll always have a constant reminder instead. as long as you're safe and sound then you don't have to witness the darker sides of her that she hides from you.

then finally, duke thomas. he may have been introduced to you the latest but you could say in terms of every trait, he'd be the brother you'd like to keep close for every situation. your first meeting with him is quite frankly the most normal one of them all, introducing yourself to duke through dinner. although he may be temporarily under bruce's guardianship over anything else, he's incredibly comforting to be around as he's quick to catch on your emotions but unlike the others, he doesn't push you to open up to him, but he won't leave your side at all either.

duke is the only metahuman you're probably allowed to be close with because your dad absolutely refuses you from even trying to talk with the superfamily. and duke heavily prides himself with that information, often secretly showing you his metahuman skills and answering whatever questions you have about them.

like jason, duke wouldn't fully delude himself into thinking you're innocent, that you need to be babied to the point they feel the urge to track even the food you eat— so he's your reliable source for any video games you were forbidden to play or any movies dick would consider too gruesome for you. he's chill, he even sneaks you unhealthy chips once in a while which makes him automatically one of the top in your tier list.

but don't think he's entirely on your side, because whilst duke seems the most normal to you - the only sibling who wouldn't smother you in blankets the moment you accidentally cut yourself with a kitchen knife - he's also batshit crazy for his own sibling and he'll sacrifice a lot for you two. so if you even dare try to suggest an idea that duke knows would risk not only him, but especially you, then that idea automatically is relayed to your dad and you wouldn't really want your father's gentle scolding anymore.

you can try to find a loophole to go out with him though! if you want to eat batburgers outside then you can do so when he's at his patrol, seeing as how he's the only batkid who does daytime patrol and that's way safer than eating at night, no?

so do expect spending more time with him the most outside, other than with dick and damian, but you'll be forced to sit in the sidelines where nobody can lay their hands on you whilst duke would be busy fighting crime and afterwards treating you to ice cream like he didn't just 'accidentally' and brutally body slammed a criminal into the wall for giving you heart eyes.

'most normal member of the family, my ass' would be the first thing that pops into your mind, but hey! at least you didn't have to be always locked up into the stuffy manor, right...?

at least you get to spend time with all of your siblings and a very loving and attentive father..!

little did you know that the only reason they allowed you out is to give you this false sense of independence, slowly but surely planning for the ultimate day where they truly would lock you up away from the world.

but they just can't help it, you know? the media's greedy hands are starting to take more than they could; so many eyes are on you and danger awaits at every corner in gotham— they can't afford having their beloved being pried away from their arms.

so is it truly a blessing or a curse in disguise? you don't know anymore.

[munsonluhvr]

WATERWORKS!

synopsis: older!eddie munson x college student!reader. out on a joyride, Eddie subsequently passes your sorority car wash fundraiser and decides his clean car desperately needs to be washed. word count - 4.5k (!) warnings: 18+ smut with a teensy plot. fingering, body parts described, choking, spanking, squirting, cream pie, age gap, not spell checked yet!

In all honesty, Eddie has no reason to be pulling into your sorority houses’ driveway, forking over twenty dollars for you to wash his car, but he knew he had to when he saw you. It’s a warm day, just a few days after the end of summer, only a few days into the new school year. The hot sun beats down the earth making it the perfect day to stand in a bikini all day, hosting a car wash fundraiser. 

Eddie had been minding his own business, taking a joy ride in his new red corvette, enjoying all the progress he’s made in his life thus far. It was only a half hour into his day out and about when he noticed your sorority hosting a car wash, more specifically seeing you stand at the edge of the sidewalk with a sign that read: ‘Car Wash 4 A Good Cause; 20 Bucks or Free if UR Sexy!’ It was the sign that caught his attention first, but it was you that held his gaze long enough that he almost rear-ended the car in front of him.

You are a sleek little vixen, barefoot on the sidewalk, your drenched hair pulled back to show your beautiful, angelic face. You are hardly dressed, your body adorned in the skimpiest bikini Eddie had ever seen. It was a no brainer; he slows his car, flicking the blinker on to turn into the driveway. 

Eddie’s car was pointed in the direction of commotion, lines and lines of cars parked in different directions, males of all different ages scattered across the front yard either talking to girls that  suggestively scrub their cars or just watching from a distance. Eddie didn’t care about any of the other girls that flock to the cars, slipping folded bills into their bikini tops or bottoms. He just wanted to watch you bend over his car, breasts pressed against the hood of his car.

He watches, in his sideview mirror, as you wipe your forehead with the back of your hand, your arms dropping down with the handmade sign, your body wilting with exhaustion. It was hard work to wave a sign around, especially in the hot sun. All you want to do is sit inside with some water, far away from the seething hot sun. 

You’re bored, annoyed with cars honking and men whistling; you didn’t want to be the one holding the sign, but you had been forced to by the other girls. You decide to take a break, and you turn on your heel, beginning to walk up the driveway to the front lawn where the rest of the sorority worked. It was then that you notice a bright red corvette, clearly brand new, and that the driver was glancing over at you. You watch as he offers you a small smile, his hand that dangles on the outside of the car pick itself up and offer you a wave. He’s cute, clearly older, late twenties, early thirties at the latest. You feel your day, and your energy, start to pick up. 

Within a few paces you stand at the driver’s side of the stranger’s car, bending forward, placing your hands on your mid-thigh, as you peer into the car. “Here for the car wash?” 

The curly haired man nods, his eyes lingering down your nearly naked body. “That, amongst other things.” 

You smile innocently. “Doesn’t look like your car needs to be washed.” And it’s true; as you stand close to the car you see how it’s practically new, not a speck of dirt on the exterior, not a single scratch. Standing close to the window, you can also smell the scent of brand-new leather, the car barely lived in.  

He shrugs, his eyes looking forward then back to you. “A car can always use a good wash. I’m Eddie by the way.”

You raise your eyebrows, already amused by the man in front of you. “It’s nice to meet you, Eddie. I’m y/n. If you pull up, I’m sure one of the girls will happily wash your car.” 

Eddie hums, glancing in front of him where tens of girls scantily clad in bikinis, soap suds clinging to their arms and legs, scurry across the sorority house lawn to attend to the ever-growing line of customers. “They all look pretty busy with cars already. Can’t you help me?” 

You clasp your hands in front of you, understanding, now, that Eddie wants you to clean his car, not anybody else. You purse your lips and make an over-exaggerated sigh, though a hint of a smile is displayed across your face. “I suppose I could. Pull on up.” You gesture for Eddie to follow you up the driveway, searching for a free spot for Eddie to park his car. 

As you walk, Eddie is lucky that he doesn’t run his car into someone else’s as his eyes are completely entranced by your ass that’s exposed in your bright yellow bikini bottoms. He clenches his jaw, doing the best he can to park where you gesture towards, as he feels himself grow hard in his jeans. The lust he feels, staring at your nearly naked body, cloaked in a light sheen of sweat, is unbearable. 

“You can stay in the car if you want,” you say, watching Eddie move to step out of the car. “It’s kind of the whole point of the car wash in the convenience for the customer, you know? Pull in, get your car washed by a girl in a bikini, then pull out.” 

Eddie shrugs, closing the driver’s side door. “Darling, I wouldn’t want to pull out, but I think I’d prefer to watch from outside of the car.”  

You feel your cheeks flush, the back of your neck get hot with heat. All day, boys from the surrounding fraternities, or creepy, married men have been in and out of the sorority driveway. However, there is something about Eddie that’s so edgy, nerdy yet confident. Eddie is a refreshing change; one you want to entertain for a little while. “Suit yourself,” you say, as you bend over, dunking your hand into the bucket of cold, soapy water, then pull your hand out with a sopping wet sponge. 

Eddie stands a foot or two away from you, his arms crossed against his chest. He watches closely as you pick up a super-sized sponge, bubbling with soap bubbles, dripping with water, and smudge it across the hood of his car. His heart thumps against his chest watching as water trickles out of the sponge, down his shiny red car, and dribbles down your thighs. 

You move slowly, bending across his car further and further, as you work hard to scrub the imaginary dirt off his car. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on your body, knowing his eyes must be as wide as saucers, his skin crawling with lust, his stomach churning with anticipation - you just have that impact on men. You move to the opposite side of Eddie’s car, working on the other side of the hood. Now you face Eddie’s direction, making a show of leaning over his car, once again, pressing your breasts against the car, flicking your eyes to meet his only for a fleeting second, enough to get his heart rate up even further. 

Once you turned your eyes back to his car, Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, suddenly feeling disoriented. Was it the sun and the heat or was it you that was making him feel this way? It had been a long time since Eddie pursued a girl, he was never very good at it. He had a small sense of confidence, but that only got him so far. Now, he’s several years older, still unexperienced, yet here he is, letting you seduce him happily, not knowing if he’ll do anything about it. 

You continue to work on Eddie’s car, making your way around his vehicle. Every move, every stretch you make is calculated, made to manipulate the male mind. It’s fun, you think, to put on a show for a boy, no a man. It had been so long since you been intimate, the boy you were surrounded by were useless, only out to use the female body to solely pleasure themselves. The act of being fucked boys that were in college was a cold venture, one that only left you feeling alone and empty – and certainly not feeling any pleasure at all. You had hoped you’d meet someone older, someone who would care about how you felt. Now here stands Eddie, clearly older, clearly into you by the way his cock is so clearly pressing against his jeans, and the way he makes no attempt to hide it. It’s worth a try, you think. 

With one last swipe of Eddie’s car, you take the hose that snakes throughout the driveway and spray his car down. Lastly, you take a soft towel, wiping the small droplets from his windows. You were finally done, your body more exhausted then before. 

When you turn your attention back to Eddie, he’s holding out a twenty-dollar bill. “I think I recall your sign saying it’s twenty dollars.” 

“Then you’d also recall that the sign also said it’s free if you’re sexy, so you can keep your money,” you say, wiping your wet hands on the towel. 

Eddie frowns lightly, then smirks. “All that hard work you just did for free?” 

You shrug, mimicking the way Eddie shrugged earlier. “What can I say? I’m eager to please, especially for a pretty guy like you.” 

Standing in front of Eddie, you see the size difference between you two. You’re shorter then Eddie, your body much smaller than his. Even from where you stand, you can smell his cologne, the scent making you salivate – you’re a sucker for good smelling cologne. He’s dressed in all dark colors; his body lean underneath his fashionably tattered clothing. It was then you realize that you want him bad.

“Oh, really? For an old guy like me?” Eddie says, interested to gauge your feelings on older men. He is sure you’re constantly approached by guys of all ages, constantly turning heads or breaking hearts. 

You lean against his car, crossing your ankles and crossing your arms against your chest. “It’s even better that you’re older. Guys my age don’t know anything about how to please a girl,” You unfold your arms, making a show of glancing at your fingernails. “Emotionally or physically.” 

Eddie gulps, scenario after scenario rolling over in his mind Thoughts of every position he wants to fold you in to in a matter of minutes, replacing the soapy water trailing down your legs with ropes of his own cum comes to him immediately. “A girl as pretty as you shouldn’t be neglected emotionally or physically.” 

You glance at Eddie now, knowing that you have his full attention. “Tell me about it.” 

Your eyes linger on each other, tension as thick as the heat hanging between you. You forget that the rest of your sorority is hard at work around you, cars entering and exiting the driveway consistently. All you can focus on is Eddie. “You look parched,” you say suddenly, pushing yourself off his car. “Why don’t you come inside.” 

Eddie nods without saying a word. He’s pretty sure he’d walk to the ends of the earth for you. Eagerly, he follows behind you as you weave through the cars parked in the driveway and across the lawn. You glance over your shoulder once, amused to catch Eddie’s eyes stuck on your rear end once again. You have this man wrapped around your finger. 

You push open the front door of the sorority house, noticing how a few of the girls had sought refuge from the customers and heat within the kitchen and cavernous living room. Eddie’s eyes disconnect from your body to look around the house. He honestly never thought he’d ever find himself in a sorority house, he could never imagine a sorority girl giving him the time of day. But here he is- here you are. The inside is large, all the furniture in the rooms dwarfed by the tall ceilings and large rooms. 

“Come this way,” you say softly, gesturing towards the large, winding staircase that’s directly at the front door. Your feet are tempted to carry you to your room quickly, but you do your best to stay composed, not allowing yourself to showcase your eagerness. At the top of the winding staircase, the hallway to the bedrooms is long. As you walk, you pass door after door, each of your sorority sister’s rooms. Finally, you reach yours near the end of the hallway. 

You remember that your room is messy, but you don’t care. You doubt Eddie would even notice; you can feel his eyes glued to your backside. 

You open your bedroom door, glancing over your shoulder to encourage Eddie to follow you into your room. You notice his eyes flick to across your bedroom, landing on your messy bed, the blankets, and bedsheets all tangled. 

Eddie clears his throat. “Is it okay if I’m up here?” 

Technically, boys aren’t allowed in the sorority house, especially not in the bedrooms. You shake your head softly. “No, but I’m sure we can make it quick.” You let a small smile play across your mouth as you clasp your hands in front of you. 

Eddie’s eyes widen, your insinuation making him realize your intentions loud and clear.  Underneath his jeans, Eddie can feel his bulge begin to ache even more, his core aching from anticipation. Even you can feel the tension between you and Eddie, it’s clear you find each other attractive. Between your thighs, you can feel your stomach tingle with excitement; what kind of pleasure this encounter hold for you? 

You back yourself up to your bed, feeling a small chill standing in your airconditioned room in a skimpy bikini. Your heart thumps against your chest, your breath escaping your body. Eddie takes a small step towards you, biting at his bottom lip. You are the loveliest sight Eddie has ever seen, so delicate and soft but he so badly wants to be rough with you, turn your body inside out with pleasure. 

Now merely a few inches from each other, Eddie reaches his hand out, his fingertips brushing against your cheekbone. His fingertips tails across your face, guiding their way to your lips. Instinctively, you part your lips, Eddie taking advantage and slipping his thumb into your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut, tasting the salty sweetness of his skin. Watching you suck his finger, Eddie loses his breath, the feeling of your tongue around his finger too much to bear. 

You take the opportunity to reach your hands out, playing with the hem of his t-shirt. You lift up slowly, and Eddie lets his thumb slip out of your mouth, helping you lift his shirt off. Now you see his torso, his soft skin decorated with scattered tattoos. Your mouth salivates at the sight of his happy trail, disappearing into the band of his jeans. 

You lean forward, raising up on your toes to let your lips hover of Eddie’s. Without a second thought, Eddie cups your face, his lips pushing into yours. He steps forward once, twice, and you step back once, twice. You gracefully fall back onto your bed, your legs parting to allow room for Eddie. With one swift movement, Eddie reaches his hand behind your back, pulling at the string of your bikini, the string unraveling and your top slipping off. 

At the sight of your bare chest, Eddie can’t help but groan. He cups your breast with his large hand, his head ducking down to let his lips envelope your nipple. Instantly, your head throws back, the feeling of his tongue flicking across your nipple heavenly. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, your lips parting just in time for a soft moan to escape from your throat. 

Letting his fingertips drag across your torso, Eddie slips his hand into your bikini bottoms, his fingertips grazing your cunt. You hold onto his shoulder for balance, your fingers gripping him tightly. With ease, Eddie continues to place his body over yours, arranging yourself on your bed comfortably. Anticipation and lust begins to bunch in your stomach, arousal beginning to drip from between your thighs. 

“You’re so pretty,” Eddie mumbles, his mind spinning. He places his lips on your jaw, messy kisses trailing down the front of your throat. His fingertips begin to work against your sensitive core, teasing your entrance. Your thighs tremble, pressure building in the bottom of your abdomen. Eddie’s movements are slow and sensuous, and your hips begin to rock back and forth against his hand, unable to take his slow movements any longer. You begin to whine softly. 

Without warning, Eddie plunges his long digits into you, curling in the right spot to turn your whine into a loud moan. Already, you can see the difference between the ridiculous college boys you’ve played with and the man that Eddie is. Pleasure courses through your torso, your skin tingling, a shiver running down your back. Your thighs begin to clench around Eddie’s hand, begging him to keep going. 

Your arms reach out, your fingertips seeking eagerly to unbuckle the belt that holds his jeans. With success, Eddie’s belt buckle unravels in your hand, your hand moving away to palm his bulging cock over his jeans. Over you, Eddie shutters at the sensation of your touch, his breath leaving his body. He so badly wants to have his way with you, but he knows he’d rather take his time. 

Not able to sustain your calmness further, you unzip the zipper on Eddie’s jeans, his cock already pressing against his boxers. As you attempt to work his jeans off, Eddie continues to plunge his finger deep into you, causing your ambition to de-clothe Eddie to take longer then usual. 

Just as Eddie jeans dip passed his mid-thigh, his cock springs out from underneath his boxers. His member is large, larger then you could have ever imagined. At the very tip, a drop of pre-cum slithers out, the veins protruding across the thickness of his cock. Your mouth waters just at the sight, an intense need for him to fill you blossoming in your abdomen. 

To be able to help you pull his jeans off, Eddie lets his fingers slide out of you, your bottom half feeling empty and incomplete without Eddie’s touch. With one swift movement, Eddie’s jeans and boxers are off and all that’s left is your bright yellow bikini bottoms. 

Eddie presses his lips on your neck, and begins to trail down to your stomach, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath his light touch. Hooking his pointer fingers at your sides, Eddie gracefully pulls your bottoms off, leaving you completely naked. Without much thought, Eddie drops the skimpy article of clothing on the floor beside your bed. You blush in your nakedness, feeling your eyes flutter shut. 

Eddie parts your legs gently, lowering his head towards your bottom half. His warm breath flushes against your skin, goosebumps beginning to appear down your thighs. With every second that goes by, the anticipation grows thicker, leaving you breathless, arousal gathering between your thighs.

Eddie feels his anxiousness jitter throughout his fingers, his hands trembling ever so slightly. His hands tighten around the flesh of your things, prying your legs open. Without the slightest hesitation, Eddie lets his lips connect with your slick cunt, his tongue beginning to work on your immediately. 

Your head throws back in instant pleasure, your thighs beginning to tremble from the motion of his tongue. You begin to writher underneath Eddie’s touch, and he tightens his grips around your legs to hold you still and in place. Your toes curl as he continues to go on, your muscles tightening and releasing rhythmically.

Eddie is in bliss, the taste of you sweet to his tastebuds. You are so soft, so gentle, yet so bold and in charge. Although Eddie doesn’t know you well, not even at all, he knows that he has found heaven between your sun-kissed thighs. 

Eddie blinks back into consciousness, noticing how your body is reacting to his touch. He looks up at you, seeing how your eyes are fluttered shut, the bright sunshine from your window above your dashing across your face, your back arched from the pleasure. His only goal is to make you feel good, to let pleasure course through your body, so he does what automatically comes to his mind – he plunges his fingers back into you. 

A loud squeal escapes your lips, followed by your hands grabbing at your bedsheets. The frat boys have never made you feel like this before, not even close. 

With rhythm, Eddie plunges his fingers in and out of you, causing pressure to build in your lower abdomen. It’s only been several minutes and already you feel yourself getting close; you don’t want your time with Eddie to end.

Without warning, around Eddie’s fingers you squirt profusely, your thighs trembling around Eddie’s head. A strong course of pleasure runs up and down your body, leaving you breathless and exhausted once your orgasm is through. On the other hand, Eddie is energized by your loud moans.

Coming up from between your thighs, Eddie hovers over your slumped body, his large hand lightly grasping over your throat. He doesn’t want to scare you with this move, it is after all the first encounter you’ve ever had with each other, but he wants to take control a little more. 

His long nimble fingers place themselves around the length of your neck, and your eyes flutter open at his grasp on you. You feel small underneath Eddie’s touch, and you love the feeling. 

With his other hand, Eddie reaches down to part your thighs again, and then adjusting himself to line up with you. 

Eddie dips his face down, hovering over your lips; they brush yours ever so slightly. “Can I?” he asks softly. Your hand reaches out to grasp his bicep, anticipating the intoxicating burn of a thick cock entering you. You nod eagerly. Eddie lets go of his grasp on your neck, leaning on to his arm to position himself comfortably. 

With ease, Eddie pushes himself into you. You feel yourself stretch around his length, a slight groan escaping from your lips. You squeeze your eyes shut, seeing stars, a fluttering feeling emerging in your chest. 

Evenly, Eddie moves back and forth out of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. His fingers drag the length of your side, finding your hands in the process. He intertwines his fingers with yours, enveloping his hand over his. You squeeze back, the small gesture making the moment more intimate with this complete stranger. Your legs find the strength to wrap around Eddie’s waist, driving him further into you. 

With slow strokes, Eddie brings you immense pleasure, making you wonder why luck was on your side to meet such a generous stranger out of nowhere.

You and Eddie stay in the missionary position for a moment, slight eye contact here and there. You’re drawn in by the soft brown of his eyes and the darkness of his pupils. He was a beautiful human, his messy, curly brown hair adding to his attractiveness. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts when Eddie pulls his upper body away from you, your body feeling cold from the lack of warmth from his body. He pulls you up with him, making a quick movement to flip you on your stomach. 

Your head spins from the quick movement but feel a small smile creeping across your mouth: oh, how you love being manhandled. 

Lifting your hips with both hands, Eddie elevates your bottom half, placing you on your hands and knees. Once you’re in a stable position, Eddie guides himself back into you, pushing in roughly. You gasp, loving the feeling of him inside of you all over again. 

You jolt when Eddie places a small smack on your bottom, adding spanking into the mix. You offer a small giggle, biting your lip in the process. The sharp sting of his hand meeting your soft skin makes your stomach flutter in a way that’s never happened before. You find the feeling dangerous as you become curious at the other kinks you’d find exhilarating. 

Behind you, Eddie’s movements become rigid, his back-and-forth movements no longer fluid. He inhales sharply, his grip tightening on your waist. 

Eddie feels woozy, pressure building in his lower abdomen. He knows he’s close, though he doesn’t want to be. He wants his moment with you to go on forever, laying out on your bed to recover and when you’re ready, fuck you in all different angles all over again. 

He inhales and exhales sharply, his heart beating fast and blood flowing rapidly throughout his body. He pushes into you one last time, a thick load filling you to the brim completely. Eddie’s cum leaks out from around his member, beginning to drip down your legs. Although you’ve already orgasmed, the feeling of Eddie dribbling down your legs is nearly orgasmic. 

As you hold yourself up, your arms and legs quiver with exhaustion. You slump against your bedsheets, your muscles not about to help you sit up. “That was…really fun.” You say, then frown at your own words. You feel like you sound juvenile, though what you said was trust; it was indeed a lot of fun. 

Eddie smiles, nodding once. Although, he’s distracted by looking at the specks of his semen that decorate parts of your thighs. “I-I’m glad. Nothing I did was too much?” 

You shake your head. “Not in the slightest.” You watch as Eddie gets up from the end of the bed, beginning to pick up his clothes that are scattered across your bedroom floor. You wish Eddie didn’t have to go so soon but you know it’s for the best; the last thing you want is for your sorority sisters to notice that you’ve broken the most important rule – no boys in the bedroom. 

Your naked body captivates Eddie as he glances down at you while refastening his belt. It seemed like only seconds ago he was about to pass you by on the road, and now here you are lounging gracefully on your bed in front of him. And to think it all started with spotting you in your bright yellow bikini. 

“You know,” you hum, bending over to search for spare clothes to throw on. You really want to see Eddie again and to not let this be the first and last time you interact with him. “We’re having another car wash next weekend. Your car might need another scrub by then.” 

Eddie laughs flattered that you want to see him again. “My car will absolutely be dirty by then; I’ll for sure swing by.” 

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Masterpost and Prologue

dead on main fic, intro + four chapters.

Summary: The Red Hood starts off his righteous campaign with a lot of nerve but no legal identification that will let him behind the wheel of a car. Public transportation really doesn't have the panache he needs to start off as a fearsome crime lord, so he needs a driver. He finds Danny Fenton, a grungly college student trying not to be noticed by any government agencies or vigilantes.

to subscribe to this post, on mobile open the notes and click the bell on the upper right hand corner of the post. on desktop, open the notes at the bottom and press the bell on the right edge of the notes.

Links will be added to chapter list as the story posts. Chapter one will go up on July 14th. Updates are approximately every other day.

LINKS/ chapter count

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

prologue

“No, Habibi,” Talia said calmly into the phone. “I will not falsify you an American non-commercial driver's license for motor vehicles. If you cannot prove yourself to Gotham without American motor vehicle operating permissions, you will never prove yourself. Rise above this challenge.” Talia covered the phone for a second but he could hear her talking to someone else about tile options.

“It's an unnecessary challenge,” Jason argued, doing his level best not to let his tone go up. It was undignified to whine. He was a man now. “The important parts of the challenge are the tactical planning and the skills.”

Talia sounded like she was filing her nails. “Tactically plan to take the bus. Or walk. Walking is free and healthy.” 

Jason made an indignant sound but she mercilessly hung up. The worst! She made the top three of his worst mother figures, easily.

“She's just doing this so I can't go drinking.” He scowled into the air. “I don't even want to!” His voice broke mid whine, which was an insult to add to all the injuries visited upon him by the cruel whims of women who weren't even his legal guardian. He was an adult in most countries!

The worst part was that Talia didn't care about underage drinking. She just didn't want to hear shit about enabling him from Bruce when he eventually figured out that Jason was alive, 19, and in Gotham. His passport claimed he was 21 because it had to for him to travel alone, but she knew damn well no one used their passport as ID in bars. 

He couldn't just go get a license. Jason sulked viciously and threw himself into fixing his plans to accommodate for this. 

He was legally dead and living under a fake name. If he tried to sign up for the driving exam, it'd be too much scrutiny on his paperwork. But he was not taking the bus around as a crime lord. It lacked panache. More importantly, it didn't go where he wanted it to go.

Fine. He didn't need her help. He didn't need anyone's help. He just needed to download Uber. 

That was how Jason wound up wiping a mob lieutenant’s blood off of his hand onto his pants so that he could use the guy's touch screen phone. Victor Woodward's account put in a request for a ride to the Gotham police headquarters. He killed time kicking ass in all the Words with Friends games that Victor had ongoing, which was really gonna surprise anyone who normally played with that boob. Victor’s last ever play was ‘cat,’ for fuck’s sake.

A few minutes later, a skinny teenager pulled up in his clanker and opened the door. Jason put on a smile and hefted his duffle bag a little higher on his shoulder. 

“Hi! Victor?” The guy, Danny, waved his phone at Jason.

“That's me!” Jason lied breezily. “Can I put this in the trunk?” 

“Go for it.” Danny popped the trunk open from inside the car. He watched Jason with his big blue doe eyes.

For an instant, Jason thought that Danny might have seen something. Paranoia reared up. Was there blood visible? Was it easy to tell that the shapes in the bag were heads?”

The moment passed. Danny cleared his throat and whipped his face forwards again. “Normally I say to sit in the backseat, but I'm not sure that's enough room for your legs. Either is fine.” 

Jason got in the car and let satisfaction wash over his body as the weirdly timid kid pulled them out into traffic at a snail’s pace. Whatever. They wouldn’t get stopped for a traffic violation when the driver was cautious.

He’d done it. His debut as the terrifying Red Hood, hunter of the wicked and bane of the Batman, was launched. And he didn’t need a license to do it.

[pucksandpower]

Man’s World

Charles Leclerc x Ferrari engineer!Reader

Summary: Charles refuses to just stand by and watch as you get disrespected

Warnings: misogyny and lewd comments

You’re admiring the sleek lines of the red Ferrari F8 Tributo in front of you, running your fingers lightly over the glossy paint. The showroom is quiet this early in the morning, just a few employees milling about getting ready for the day.

Charles had to stop by to sign some merchandise for a charity event and asked if you wanted to tag along. You opted to wait out front and enjoy the eye candy while he took care of business.

You circle around to the back of the car, appreciating the aggressive styling and massive rear diffuser. As an engineer for Scuderia Ferrari who often extends your expertise to working on their road cars, you know every detail of this machine intimately. Your hands itch to pop the hood and inspect that glorious twin-turbo V8, but you resist.

This isn’t your workshop back in Maranello.

Lost in thought, you don’t notice the group of guys entering the showroom until one whistles loudly. “Hey baby, those legs look good enough to wrap around me real tight,” one calls out.

You freeze, feeling your heart rate pick up.

“Don’t be shy, we just want to get to know you better,” another says as they swagger over.

You press back against the car, sizing up the situation. Four of them, all clearly well-off based on the expensive watches and designer clothes. But their eyes are cruel as they look you up and down.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?” The apparent ringleader asks. “Hoping to sink your claws into some rich guy and take him for all he’s worth?” The others laugh nastily.

You lift your chin. “Actually, I happen to work for Ferrari.”

The man snorts in disbelief. “Yeah right, and I’m Michael Schumacher. There’s no way a woman knows anything about these cars other than where the passenger seat is.”

You clench your fists, biting back a scathing retort. The thought of educating these misogynistic jerks gives you immense satisfaction, but you know it won’t do any good. They’ll never change their prejudiced attitudes.

“Don’t listen to him, darling,” one says, giving you a lecherous look. “I’d be happy to take you for a ride, show you how a real man handles power between his legs.”

You’re about to tell him exactly where he can shove his stereotypes when a familiar voice interrupts sharply.

“That’s enough.”

You look over to see Charles striding angrily toward you, green eyes blazing. The men surrounding you look irritated at having their fun spoiled.

“Can we help you with something, pal?” The ringleader asks sarcastically.

Charles ignores him, coming to stand protectively beside you. “Are you okay, mon amour?” He asks under his breath.

You nod, relief washing over you now that he’s here. “I’m fine.”

Charles turns an icy stare on the men who’d been harassing you. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t speak to my girlfriend that way,” he says coldly.

The leader looks Charles up and down dismissively. But then a spark of recognition crosses his face. “Wait a minute … you’re Charles Leclerc!” He elbows his friends. “The Formula 1 driver!”

The others’ eyes widen as they take in Charles with new understanding. “Whoa, seriously?” One exclaims.

The leader chuckles, clearly trying to recover his bravado. “Well, what do you know? The famous racer has a pretty girl on his arm.” His lips curl in a smirk. “Hate to break it to you, but it’s obvious she’s just using you for your money. No way she knows anything about these cars other than how much they cost.”

Charles crosses his arms. “As it so happens, my girlfriend is an engineer for Scuderia Ferrari, so I’d bet my entire net worth — and my car collection — that she knows more about the cars in this dealership than all four of you combined and then some.”

You have to bite your lip to hide a smile at the dumbfounded looks on the men’s faces.

“An engineer?” One sputters. “You can’t be serious.”

You level a challenging stare at them. “Deadly serious. I’ve personally worked on over a dozen projects for Ferrari, including the SF90 Stradale hypercar we just launched.” You point across the showroom. “There’s one right over there, in fact. Mid-front mounted 4.0L twin-turbo V8, delivering 769 brake horsepower combined with three electric motors. First plug-in hybrid Ferrari ever put into full production.” You smirk at the slack-jawed stares your technical rundown elicits. “So yes, I’d say I know a thing or two about these cars.”

Charles grins proudly and squeezes your hand. But the leader is not ready to back down just yet.

“Anyone can memorize a monologue,” he scoffs. “I don’t buy it. You’re clearly just clinging to this guy for his money.”

Fury rises in your chest. You open your mouth to retaliate, but Charles beats you to it.

“That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about,” he snaps, green eyes blazing. “I’d be very careful with what you say next.”

The man smirks, crossing his bulky arms over his chest. “Or what, tough guy?”

Charles takes a step forward, jaw clenched. The man towers over him but Charles doesn’t flinch.

Right as it looks like things might get physical, you quickly take Charles’s arm. “He’s not worth it,” you murmur.

Charles hesitates, nostrils flaring. After a tense moment, he relaxes his stance and turns his back on the leering man.

But it seems the group isn’t done provoking you yet. “That’s right, listen to your sugar baby,” one of them calls out. “Wouldn’t want you messing up that pretty face for the cameras.”

Charles whips back around, shaking with anger now. Heart pounding, you cling to his arm in an effort to hold him back. “Charles, please-”

“No, Y/N.” He shakes off your hand, stalking toward the men. “I won’t stand here and let them insult you.”

You watch helplessly as Charles gets right in the leader’s face, nearly nose to nose. “You need to apologize. Now,” he grits out.

The man narrows his eyes. “Apologize? For what? Stating the obvious?” He smirks coldly. “Face it, your little girlfriend is nothing but a gold diggin-”

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence. With lightning speed, Charles’ fist connects squarely with his jaw. The man stumbles back with a pained shout, hand flying to his face.

“Charles!” You hurry to his side, alarmed. Charles is breathing hard, staring down at the man doubled over and groaning. The man’s friends back away nervously.

Chest heaving, Charles turns to you. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t listen to him insult you for another second.”

You meet his fiery gaze steadily. “It’s okay, I understand. Thank you for defending me.” After a beat, you add wryly, “And remind me not to get on your bad side.”

That startles a small laugh from Charles. The tension in his shoulders eases. He takes your hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “No chance of that, mon ange,” he murmurs. “You bring out the best in me.”

***

“Ow, ow, ow!” Charles hisses as he gingerly holds his right hand. His knuckles are bruised and bleeding.

You sigh, grabbing the first aid kit to tend to your dramatic boyfriend. “I told you not to punch him, Charles. You don’t know the first thing about throwing a proper punch.”

Charles pouts, wincing as you take his hand in yours to examine it. “I was just trying to defend your honor, mon amour. That man was saying such crude things about you.”

You shake your head, amused by his protectiveness. “My hero,” you tease. “Next time just walk away. I don’t need you breaking your hand over some entitled idiot’s comments.”

Charles hangs his head. “I know, I know. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just saw red when he kept insulting you.”

You smile softly, touched by how much he cares. You start cleaning the wounds on his knuckles with a disinfectant wipe.

“Ow!” Charles cries out dramatically. “That stings!”

“Don’t be such a baby,” you chide. “It’s just a little antiseptic. I have to clean it so it doesn’t get infected.”

Charles pouts some more but stays still as you finish cleaning the abrasions. You apply an antibiotic ointment carefully before beginning to wrap his hand with a bandage.

“I really messed up my hand, didn’t I?” Charles mumbles dejectedly.

You nod. “You definitely did some damage. Nothing serious, but you’ll be sore for a while.”

Once you’ve wrapped his hand securely, you bring it to your lips and place a gentle kiss on the bandage. “There. All better.”

Charles gives you a lopsided smile. “My own personal nurse. How did I get so lucky?”

You grab an ice pack from the freezer and hand it to him. “Here, put this on your hand to help with the swelling and pain.”

Charles sighs dramatically but does as instructed, holding the ice pack gingerly against his injured hand.

You glance at his wrapped hand, the knuckles already starting to bruise beneath the bandage. “Does it hurt terribly?”

Charles considers the question. “Honestly? Yes, it really does. Punching someone is not as easy as it looks in the movies.”

You laugh. “No kidding. That’s why you leave the punching to trained fighters, not Formula 1 drivers.”

“Ugh, this is so embarrassing,” Charles mutters. “What will the team say when they find out I injured myself in a fight? And I’ll never hear the end of it from Pierre.”

You pat his leg reassuringly. “Just say you hurt it working out. No one has to know about your misguided attempt at honorable combat,” you tease.

Charles chuckles ruefully. “Good idea. The last thing I need is for this to become paddock gossip.”

You both sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, Charles icing his hand while you snuggle contentedly against him.

"Thank you for patching me up and taking such good care of me,” Charles gently brushes the hair from your face with his uninjured hand. “Even when I do stupid things."

You grin. “It’s a tough job but someone’s gotta do it. Especially since you did almost break your hand for me.”

You settle back against Charles comfortably. He may be reckless and impulsive at times, but you know he always has the best intentions at heart. And you'll always be there to care for him if those good intentions backfire.

For better or worse, this protective man is the love of your life.

[thekeystothebasement]

REQUEST!! Head empty just thinking about throwing the 141 guys on their back to ride the living soul out of them till they're babbling non sense+ including König and graves these boys are to die for🤤🤎🤎🤎

A/N: I'm slowly making my way through the requests, This one took me a bit longer than I expected. It was quite challenging writing similar prompts for different characters without sounding repetitive.I went hard on Captain Price and Ghost's parts but I sort of felt like the quality went down after that :(

Let me know what ya'll think!

Check out my post: WIPS and Requests if you're interested in what I have planned or curious about the rules I set for requests.

Captain Price:

You've been needy all day and Price hasn't been giving you the attention you've been craving.

He was constantly pacing around the base, in meetings, and never having an opportunity to be with you until you found one.

After wandering around the base like a lost puppy looking for its owner, you found Price at his office, sitting in his big leather chair.

You could hear him sigh out of frustration, rubbing his temple, you could see the exhaustion on his face.

Normally you would leave him alone or even convince him to rest but you were so fucking needy.

The ache between your legs only seems to grow by the second.

Seeing him lean back into his leather chair, legs spread and letting out a sigh of frustration you finally decided to pounce.

"Daddy" you whimpered as you bounced on his dick. You were riding him eagerly, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. Normally Price would be so rough with you, pounding you against his desk and calling you a whore, his little slut. But Price couldn't even form a coherent sentence. Any words coming from his mouth were slurred as he looked at you with hooded eyelids.

"I'm a good girl, right?" you asked as you kept your relentless pace. "I'm taking care of daddy." you giggled as you felt him throb inside of you. You rocked your hips against him as you leaned closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"C'mon daddy, let it out." you whimpered. You gently nipped at his ear earning a throaty moan from him. "Let your baby take care of you. Be a good boy for me."

You let out a gasp at his weak attempt to thrust up into you, his nails leaving marks on your hips.

"Princess..." he whimpered

"Yes, sir?" you were smiling down at him, feeling him tense under you before shuddering as his cum shoots deep into you. His body goes limp on the leather chair as you continue to ride him, not satisfied with the amount of cum he gave you.

"Giving up already?" you pouted. You could feel his semen run down your burning thighs, leaving you even hornier.

"C'mon old man, your princess wants more."

Ghost:

Ghost never liked to relinquish control.

Whenever you tried to take the reigns you were always put in your place

On your back with your legs over his shoulder as he pounded into you, desperately trying to breed you.

Despite how good he made you feel, you always had the fantasy to be on top.

You wanted Ghost to be the one left quivering and begging.

You wanted to be the one in control. You wanted to be the one to be able to hold's Ghost pleasure over his head.

You wanted Ghost to beg you to let him cum, which is exactly what your ears are hearing.

"Fucking hell, don't do this to me, baby..." Simon pleaded. The rope tied around his wrist wouldn't budge no matter how hard Simon's hands tried to reach out to your body. He couldn't remember how many times you kept bringing him to the edge of pleasure, riding his cock and squeezing your warm wet cunt around him, to only pull away when you feel the familiar throb of his cock ready to burst his semen inside you.

"C'mon lieutenant..." you whispered into his ear as your fingernail traveled from his neck down to his chest. "I know you can beg better than that. How much do you want to cum inside this wet pussy." You teased.

You can see how red his tip was, practically ready to blow his load inside you with the slightest touch. His breathing was labored, his chest rapidly rising and falling. The rope tied around his ankles kept him from bucking his hips into you, as you hovered over him. Your pussy is just a few mere centimeters from his cock.

"c'mon princess..." he choked out, completely frustrated in the predicament he woke up to. "Please ride me..."

You couldn't help the wide grin that appeared on your face as you looked down at Simon. As soon as those words left his mouth you bounced down onto his cock earning a whimper from the man below you.

"As you wish lieutenant."

Soap:

You and Soap had made a bet after a heated argument in front of the 141 task force.

Somehow the topic landed on Sex

Soap had begun to brag that he could last hours to the point he'd outlast his partner which earned a snort from you.

All eyes landed on you at your reaction, Soap didn't take it lightly and thus started your mini argument

The argument ended when you and Soap agreed to have sex with each and see who would last the longest.

The group was astounded at the interaction and decided to stay at the bar longer than they planned as they watched you and Soap leave.

They did not want to be around you both as the bet took place.

"Johnny..." you panted as you looked down at the male before you. His eyes were squeezed shut as he roughly panted below you. "Admit it. You can't outlast me. My pussy is about to put you to sleep."

Soap could only whimper as you continued to bounce on his cock, vulgar wet sounds emitted by your actions. A ring of white can be seen in the base of his cock, the ring getting thicker and thicker as you continued to ride him. His hips would lazily try to meet yours, missing the rhythm you had set.

Your giggles echoed in his room as you felt his body stiffen, knowing his semen was about to be freed from their chamber. You could hear him babble nonsense as your cunt squeezed around his cock, squeezing the last bit of cum he had. Hissing as he nutted in you.

"you're a fucking minx..." he panted out. His hand tapped the inside of your cum covered thighs.

"Tapping out, Johnny?"

Gaz:

You and Gaz were the youngest members of the task force.

Because of this, you two got along well.

A little too well for everybody's comfort

It was no secret you two were fooling around with each other

Every member has their own experience catching you two in the act, mortifying all who were involved

But that never stopped you and Gaz from doing it again

The bathroom, kitchen, and even the sparring room were not safe from your lewd acts

Hell, you could imagine Price's shouting already

You were riding Gaz on Price's favorite couch, the worn-out fabric couch by the coffee table

"You got issues Gaz,"

Gaz was leaning back on the couch, 'coincidentally' the very spot Price sits on every day. He watched as you did all the work. Watching as your breasts jiggled with every bounce on his dick. He leaned further into the couch as you continued to belittle him.

"You like it when we get caught," you teased. "Pervert."

Gaz felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head, you were breathtaking, you looked so beautiful riding him. Your hands settled on his shoulders as you raised your hips and fell down on his cock, his balls slapping against your ass.

"Hurry up and cum Gaz," you gasped out. His fingers tightened around your hips as he edged closer and closer to the height of his pleasure. "Don't want the Captain to walk in and see me riding his favorite sergeant?"

"...fuck..."Gaz moaned. His eyes squeezed shut as he imagined your words. "...baby"

"Sick-fuck..." you teased. You quicked your pace, moving your hips in a circular manner. "You want the Captain to see me milk your cum from your balls?"

"shit..oh god..." Gaz cried out. You felt his body stiffen as he chanted 'yes baby' He could feel your walls squeezing around him, desperately trying to milk him.

As you feel his cum dribble down your thigh, your next set of words had him running through a list of emotions, his limp dick twitching inside of you despite his consciousness telling him how wrong it was to be getting hard in the situation he found himself in.

"Hi, Captain. Enjoying the show?"

Konig:

Konig's eyes followed you everywhere and you noticed for quite a bit of time.

You never really held a conversation with the tall male before.

He was too anxious to talk to you but whenever you approached him and try to converse with him, he could only reply with one-word responses.

Despite the lack of conversations, you enjoyed his presence.

You would be writing in your journal across from him and he would sketch on his sketchpad.

You've seen his sketches before, he was quite skilled and you rained compliments on him.

He would awkwardly laugh at your compliments, his mask hiding the big smile and blush on his cheeks.

Konig's body would soon stiffen under your next question, his hand harshly gripping at his sketchpad, and his pencil snapped in the other.

"Have you ever done nude art?"

You already knew the outcome when you suggested he draw you nude.

The devious smile on your face as you led him to your room and rid yourself of your clothes.

You admired Konig's self-control when he actually did try to sketch you nude but you had other plans.

"Mesmerize every square inch of my body." you panted. Konig was sprawled on the floor as you used his body for your complete and utter pleasure. His sniper hood was discarded in the room as his forearm covered his eyes, tears streaming down his face from the pleasure of your tight walls squeezing his overstimulated cock.

Whimpers and breathy moans escaped his throat and released into the room. Wet sounds resonated in the room as you bounced on his cock and scratched and clung to his chest.

"I'll remember..." Konig breathed out. "I'll remember...Scheiß...your curves..and...tight pussy"

You laughed at his weak attempt to reply to you, his sentence broken each time your ass landed on his balls earning whimpers and curses from the male. You could feel Konig's dick throb inside of you and his moans becoming higher and more frequent.

"Cum inside of me..."You begged. "and then you'll be able to draw me full of your semen."

Graves:

As soon as you got a glimpse of his eyes, you knew you were going to fuck him into submission

The way his eyes would shined when he stepped into the dinner and noticed a cute young waitress looking at him with a soft smile

He'd sit in a booth and pray you'll be his waitress for the night

He'd subtly flirt with you but you knew what you wanted and aggressively flirted right back at him

His eyes would follow your figure as you'd walk away, his eyes focusing on your ass

When you returned with his food you sat in the chair in front of him and kept him company as he ate his meal

Eventually, your boss yelled at you to get back to work, leaving Graves smirking at the small pout on your face.

You would lean down to his ear, his eyes gazing at your cleavage, your hand squeezing his shoulder as you whispered into his ear, "I get off at 10. If you'll wait for me, I'll make it worth your while."

You stood back up, dusting your skirt and sending him a wink before getting back to work

Despite the car having tinted windows, the rocking of the car and the smudged handprints on the windows gave away what was happening inside.

Phillip was sprawled on the car seat that was set all the way down, you were sat on his clothed dick, rocking your wet folds against the wet fabric of his briefs. His briefs stained with his cum and your arousal.

“C’mon baby….fuck,” Graves whined. “Let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours.”

You gave him false hope as you lifted your hips up and pulled down his briefs. You continued to rock your hips, your wet folds spreading your arousal on his red tip. You felt him shudder under your teasing, his eyes squeezed shut as his hands tried to grip the leather seats.

“Please stop teasing me, baby.” He begged.

You grinned at him, lining yourself up with his dick before you slowly eased him inside of you. Your eyes closed shut momentarily before the were snapped open, feeling Grave shoot his cum inside of you.

Your laughter filled the car as you began to bounce on his dick, whimpers and moans escaping from Graves.

“Was my pussy that good,” you questioned. “Fucking nutted just by being inside of me….Pathetic”

Graves couldn’t help but enjoy the way you degraded him, feeling your warm walls hug his cock, and the way yours eyes looked down at him. Your eyes looking at him as if he was a toy for your pleasure. Disregarding how sensitive he was from all your teasing, not caring how many times you made him cum inside of his briefs, his cum and your arousal mixed with each other, wet sounds emitted each time you lowered your hips all the way till his balls were tightly pressed against your ass.

“Shit….gonna fuck myself on your cock till the sunrise…”you said as you felt him throb inside of you once again.

“ if you can even last that long…”

[tmwcs]

Little Red Riding Hood - Finale.

Pairings: Jake and fem!y/n

Warnings: Werewolf Jake (should already tell you). Knotting, noncon/subcon smut, cnc (both rough and light), oral (fem receiving), smut, breeding kink, detailed smut, hints of murder, kidnapping yandere love.

Authors note: here we go part two (finale) of RRH. Again this is not proofread but I don’t think that matters. Enjoy!

Taglist: @strxwbloody @nshmrarki @aquariushiiiii @addictedtohobi @nuriicata @lilyuwon

You dropped the picture and quickly made your way back to the car. The driver was still nowhere in sight, which may have been in your favor considering the evidence discovered. You quickly turn the car around, figuring the best and quickest way to notify the authorities was to head back. Pulling up, you park the car in the driveway and rush inside. You picked up the phone and dialed the police, but the line was silent. You frantically dialed a series of numbers before slamming the phone back down. You rushed to the nearest neighbor and knocked on the door and carried over to the windows once you realized that no one was home. House to house, you knocked on every door in sight and still, no one was around–the entire neighborhood was empty. The moment seized you as you realized you were all alone. Discomfort rid you of all your calmness and you run back inside your grandmother's house, praying that she would return any second. You went up the stairs and tried the telephone in the master bedroom, but the line remained dead. “Shit!”

Your tenacity takes over as you continue to try dialing a series of phone numbers hoping that one of them would go through. Just as you were re-dialing your parents home phone, a creak from behind bolts a shiver down your spine. The door behind was opening. Your breaths begin to shutter as the realization hit that you were not alone inside the house. You froze—unable to turn as the rhythm of fear and anxiety stills you. You couldn’t even say a word or scream at this point.

You remained still. Too frightened to even be curious as to who was behind staring at you. “G-grandma?” You trembled, hoping to high hopes that you would get a response in her voice.

Slowly, you pivot on the heel of your foot and simultaneously lower the phone as you come face to face with the man across the room. Somehow, you were in disbelief even with him staring directly at you. Tears begin to form as you feel all sense of hopelessness. You frown hysterically as you watched a smirk appear on that handsome face. “J-Jake?—Wha-what are you doing here?”

A thousand questions riddle in your brain. A few teardrops turned into a river flow of sobs as you bestowed a pleading countenance. The blood curdling scream didn’t escape past your pursed lips until you dropped the phone, which is when he decided to strike at you. His movements were fast—too fast. He moved like a flash of light. Despite his rough handling, you got the hint that he didn’t have any intentions in hurting you—at least not that you could see for now. He shoved you over the old console table that was stationed in front of the large floor mirror propped in the corner of the room. “My poor girl. He gave you such a hard time, didn’t he?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion as he pinned your toned against the flat surface of the table. You turn your head to look back, expressing your bewildered state. You couldn’t even speak. The smile that permanently etched his face caught you off guard as he grinds his pelvis against your rear end. “Don’t worry. Daddy took care of him.”

You panic as you hear his words echo against the bedroom walls. Immediately, you realize his unlawful intentions as he shoves himself against you, reaching around touching you. “S-stop!”

He chuckles at your demand and sucks in your neck. “Tasty. You smell good too.” His leathered gloved hands trail upward and tugs on your dress, ripping it with ease. “Stop! Don’t!”

Reaching around your face, he cups your jaw and turns your face towards his. “You don’t really want me to stop, do you?”

Whether it was that smooth voice or his handsome gaze, somehow you lost your composure to express your displeasure. You froze, and so did your voice. He chuckles once more before sealing your lips in a deep and tender kiss. Breaking contact, his skin brushes against you as he whispers, “nah, didn’t think so.”

The tearing of whatever remained from your dress had you crying, yet his touch and kisses made you moan. You were conflicted between fear, despair, and pleasure. The more he kept doing, the more it had put you in turmoil. Especially when he kept huffing under his breath, telling you things that made your mind travel in circles.

Fuck, you smell so good. Your skin is so smooth. You’re mine. All fucking mine.

By the time he had you completely stripped, with only the small bit of tatters loosely draping your body, you caved in. The way his fingers moved and delicately tapped against your clit made you see stars. He was so good at it, no one could possibly blame you for how you reacted. “Yeah, baby? You fucking like that, hmm? Want me to eat you?” He whispers vigorously against your ear, further causing you to spiral downhill. “My pretty Red Riding Hood…let me take care of you. Fuck. Let me own you.”

Keeping his palm flat against your lower back, he presses down and stabilizes you. You remained still, knowing by his grip and aura that any movement would only result in chaos. Also, you found yourself not wanting to admit it, but you didn’t want to. With the way the tip of his nose trails down your spine and along the curve of your derrière, you found yourself craving more. The moment his nose grazed over your plush lips and exposed clit, your fingernails dig into the table. Your moans grow louder as he presses your cheeks together, keeping your thighs closed before he starts flickering his tongue at your womanhood. “Mmph! Stop! Fuck! Please stop!” You help out. Pleasure hits you like a bolt of lightning as you remain in denial. He doesn’t entertain in responding, instead he continues to emit long strokes of his tongue. The flat surface completely wipes you clean of your juices as he slowly licks from top to bottom, finishing off each swipe with the tip of it playfully digging into your nub. He did it so tenderly and smoothly, it was painful. “P-please!” You help as you slam your hands against the wood surface, yearning for more as he edges you on. The moment that caused your eyes to roll back was when he shoved his nose and mouth against the warm center and snarls. Chuckling deeply against your vulnerable spot made you feel things you never knew existed. “Oh! Oh my God! What are you doing to me—“

He chuckles once more, this time it nearly made you lose balance as your legs trembled. You found it hard to stand even with the support of the table under you. “Please—“

He snarls against your clit once more. “Yeah pretty girl?” His tongue pelts against your clit numerous times. In between he whispers in that accent of his. “Tell me you’ll be mine. Tell me you’ll be loyal.” He finishes off each demand with a squeezing kiss on your wet clit. Your breath hitches as you choke out each moan. “Hmm?” He mumbles while sucking on to your womanhood. Giving in, you nod hysterically as the tear drops fall before you, decorating the mahogany finish.

The sound of his belt unbuckling, his zipper coming undone, and his shirt being discarded had your heartbeat come to a pause. Half naked, his trousers loosely remain on as he brings out the gift of his build. You didn’t see it, even looking at the mirror in front. But the way he dragged it against the lining of your vaginal opening made you well aware that he was large. The tip alone was wider than your wrist. You shivered under his palm as you felt him breaching your entry. “Shh-sh-sh-shh.”

His shushing does nothing to clam you. The second he pokes in, you squirmed with regret. You shout out of how you changed your mind and that you wanted him to stop, but he pays no mind and keeps entering. The friction alone was enough to cause you to faint, but when he found himself half way in he scoffs. “Almost there.”

Your eyes enlarge. How could he still have more length to push in? There was no way you would be able to survive, he was already so deep. You try to push back and do everything you could to escape, but it was no use. With him hunched over your backside, pinning your wrists to the table, he coos you by whispering into your ear as you were forced to take in inch after inch. Finally, with the tip felt in the deepest part of you, he calmly stroked your hair as he guides you to breathe. You pant under the pressure of being stretched and torn open, yet he continues to be calm despite how tight your walls hugged him. “Breathe baby, breathe. That’s it. Aww…that’s my girl.”

You do exactly as he instructed, feeling some sort of relief as he begins to pull out. Yet when he has all but the tip nestled inside you, he jams it back in mercilessly. You scream out as your head jolts up. He keeps you steady as he pinches his grip against your waist and holds you in place as he makes you take in every single thrust. His hips move back and forth, stalling into you. Skin on skin, the slapping movements echo in the room, doing something to your mind as the thought of him doing the most unspeakable matches with the rhythm. It sends a tingle to your core and before you know it, your body responds by aiding him in his resolve. “Yeah that’s it. Get wet for me baby. Makes it easier for me to fuck you.”

He goes in deeper with each thrust, punching a soft spot that causes you to gush. It coats his lengthy muscle, making it more slick as he finds it easier to fuck into you. You pant and moan in satisfaction, yearning for more as he shoved the combined efforts of sweat and squalene back inside you, mixed with his precum. His pace picks up faster and faster, when suddenly he pauses as he buries his cock deep inside. You look up in the mirror, shaking and pitifully murmuring out with a pleading tone. “P-please…not inside…”

His eyes shift from admiring your derrière to staring back at you through the mirror. He laughs handsomely as he notes how beautiful you look in your disheveled state, all within his grasp. “That’s not how this works, pretty girl. I told you…”

He stretches his neck from left to right, squinting his eyes shut as he expresses relief. “You’re mine.” His voice became deeper. His grip becomes tighter. There was shallow wind breezing through yet the windows remained closed. The curtain was open, revealing a full moon that shined against your skin. Dripping from his mouth, large amount of drool stains your backside as you watched through the mirror. Something unruly was happening. Something abominable.

You tried to move away and release yourself from his grasp but the pain of his claws digging into you restrains you. They grew longer and his hair grew shaggy. His face morphs into something unreal as you watched in horror of the final product. He was jet black all around with ears that resembled the devil's horns. They were propped and sitting atop his large head, which resembled a wolf. His stature maintained a humanoid structure, defined by lean muscles and a combination of soft fur and smooth skin. You wiggle in pain as you feel his throbbing member swelling inside you. “Ah! Stop! Let go! What’s happening!?”

A clawed hand shoots up and around, covering your mouth. He suppresses your screams as he begins thrusting. This time, he truly was tearing into you as the shaft became terribly swollen and thick. His tip was even thicker. He picks up the pace and hits your spot multiple times, and your body betrays you once more as you felt yourself gaining pleasure mixed with pain each time he pushes into you. Your screams become prolonged moans as you watched the creature pelt into you from behind through the grand mirror. His eyes never breaking eye contact with you.

He keeps going, compelled to destroy your walls as he squelches his massive length inside. You reach up and pitifully latch onto the monstrous hand that covers your moans. He keeps his hold, gaining leverage as he forces you to raise your head, arch your back, and prop your perky rear in the air��allowing him more access to breed you. You find yourself conflicted once more as the feeling of getting fucked into oblivion takes over and eradicates your better judgement. This monster—this creature…it’s not human. Nothing about him is. Yet you found yourself wanting him to keep going and to do more. You wanted him to do it over and over again.

Watching the creature thrusting into you with the thought of him giving it to you forever sent a burning sense of desire in your core. Your nerves heat up and your muscles tightened. Your womanhood becomes more lubricated each time he thrusts inside and suddenly you yelp out a high pitched moan into his palm as you feel yourself coming undone. With your walls pulsating against his cock, he picks up the pace and goes even faster. The sound of his inhuman form slapping against you only made things more intense as you felt yourself creaming around his circumference. At the very bitter end of your orgasm, you hazily watched under half closed lids as the monster buries himself deep inside you one final time and howls at the full moon. He was cumming inside you.

Panting ferociously with animalistic tendencies, he loosens his stance and leans over you, resting his weight against your backside. He was heavy and dense, but he made sure to not completely release his massive size on you, avoiding breaking your spine. He growls and pants against your ear. Despite being so primitive, his clawed hands cradle over yours as he sniffs and licks your ear. You shutter at the act as it felt no different than a dog. Still, his humanness shows through as he rubs his thumbs over the back of each hand, comforting you. You attempted to move but found yourself stuck. You’re not sure if you were entirely confused, pleased, or mortified, or maybe all of the above. He was swollen and stuck inside you. You couldn’t pull him away.

You realized that the act of breeding-tie was being conducted as his cock continued to deep out his cum deep inside you, swelling itself to remain in to ensure successful breeding. Perhaps it was giving up the fight, but realizing what he was doing didn’t cause you to cry or become mortified. Instead, you laid calmly and continued to take on the beast's pants against your skin. Is this what giving up felt like?

The breeding tie lasted for hours. Finally, after he had returned to his human form, the beast—or rather, Jake, took his clothes and quickly dressed himself. He took your grandmother's sheet and adorned you as if you were a goddess. With inhuman strength, he carried your limp body and stowed you in the backseat of his car. You heard the doors secure as he starts the ignition. You were so tired and lifeless—so work out from the unspeakable act carried out earlier, you didn’t have the energy to even speak. All you could do was look up and watch through the window, the glorious full moon peering form the night sky as he drives off. Occasionally, he reached behind his seat, gently caressing your face. With a soft chuckle, he would whisper “all mine.”

……..

“Where are you going sweetheart?”

You snap your head back, flashing a subtle smile. “Hm? Oh–i’m just going to this interview about the job at the local library. I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

Your dad raises a brow and takes a side glance over at the clock. “This late?”

“Mmhmm.” you respond as you slip on your shoe. “The interviewers gave out time slots, mine is at 4 pm.”

Your dad sighs. Reaching into his pocket, you hear the jingling of the key ring as he tosses them your way. “Take my car.”

You chuckle aloud. “Dad, I’ll be fine. I don’t want to worry about parking.” You attempt to return the keys back, but his insisting tone becomes more assertive as he explains about the recent happenings circulating the media reports. “Take my car–the library is ten miles out. I don't want you taking an uber either.” he looks at you sternly as he pushes your hand away, prohibiting you from giving back the key ring. “You know they still haven’t found that girl, right? The one who disappeared on her way to her grandmother’s house.”

You nod in response. “Yeah I know.”

He gingerly cups your cheek and softens his tone. “Take my car, it will put my mind at ease.”

You smile and nod. “Okay. thank you daddy.”

He wishes you luck as you exit the door. You set the address in the gps and maneuvered out of the long driveway and headed towards the main road, when suddenly your gps pops a notification, alerting you of traffic congesting the main road. Seeing that it would cause a delay, you decided to not risk missing out on the interview. You accept the recommended shortcut and follow the path which takes you on the backroad. Taking it easy, you maintain moderate speed. The overcrowding bush of trees surrounding the road accentuated the narrowness of the road, causing a slight sensation of uneasiness in your chest. At first you figured that you’d soon pierce through to the other side of town, when a heavy fog sets, thick enough to blot out the sunlight. You kept up with the route, figuring it would be best to turn around. Yet the absence of alternative pathways prevented you from doing so. The road became too small for you to do a u-turn without the risk of backing into the ditch that railed both sides of the route. Sticking to the route, you hoped that you would see light, or some other form of manmade feature. However, the deeper you went in, the more you felt yourself going away from modern civilization. There was no farmland, no street lights, buildings or houses–not even a single street sign.

The beeping from the dashboard notifies you of low gas. “Shit!” you whisper under your breath. You could have sworn that the tank was half full when you pulled out of the driveway. Checking your phone, you also noticed that your battery was at low percentage–too low. “What the hell?”

Strange, considering you were sure that the bar read at least forty percent when you left the house. You start to panic as you push through, when finally you see some lighting at a distance. “Oh my God! Finally.”

You pull up at the grand estate. The iron fence was tall and elegantly decorated by the blushing rose vine that was in full bloom. Fortunately the fence remained partially opened– looked to be by accident. Normally you knew better than to trespass so rudely, however, given the circumstance, this constituted an emergency. With no gas and a phone on the verge of dying, you needed help. Perhaps the owners would be understanding.

Your breath pauses as you pull further in and notice the enormous structure of the estate. It could hardly be called a mansion, considering that it resembled the palace of Versailles–both in size and aesthetic appeal. The gardens surrounding were well kept and the statues were pristine. “Wow…” you breathed out as you drove the car up to the front.

You walk up to the large entrance. Could someone possibly live here? You hoped that someone was inside, considering that this looked to be more of an establishment versus a home. The dim lighting gleaming through one of the windows up on what appeared to be the third floor gave you some hope. There wasn’t a doorbell, so you hoped that it was too intruding for using the heavy iron door knocker. It was large, and quite heavy, but you managed to admit three knocks as quietly and gently as possible. A few minutes went by and you wondered if it would be rude to admit three more, when suddenly the latch on the door begins to turn and the clicking sparks your relief.

You watch as the door opens and reveals an older gentleman, dressed elegantly in a suit with no jacket. Just a silk vest with a white button up paired with well pressed trousers. His shoes were of fine leather and shined without any blemish, and his hair neatly combed. “May I help you?”

You gulped at the tranquil tempo of his words as he spoke in a calm voice. “Um yes–I’m sorry to bother but I was wondering if you had a telephone I may use? My car ran out of gas and my phone is out of battery. I also seem to be lost.”

The gentleman, who appeared to be a butler of the estate, raised a brow as he darted his eyes between you and the car. “How did you manage to get here? You must be so far from home.” he questions, developing a concerned look as he waits for you to answer. You were confused, seeing as how you were only on the road for about twenty minutes, not at all too far from your parents house. “No, I live in town. I took a shortcut due to traffic.”

The elder man nodded. “I see.” He lets you in, and paves the way with his steady hand as he displays such courteous manners of respect and elegance. “Come in, please. I’m afraid we do not have a telephone, but you may stay a while to charge your cell-u-lar phone.”

It was no guess as to why this house wouldn’t have a telephone. At first it confused you, yet by the way he nearly spelled out the word “cellular”. If the owners were anything like this man, they were farther away from modernization than you could imagine. At least you were smart enough to have a charger and charging block with you. “Thank you.” you respond.

“Come with me, I’ll take you to a room where you can unwind and charge your phone. I’ll have madam bring you some tea.”

You thank the man. You felt overwhelmed by the sensational service he was providing, considering you weren’t an official guest. Following close by, you admired the grand features of the home. It was incredible. The architecture design was heavy on the traditional European taste, expressing the delicacy of mirrors, gold trimmings, crystal chandeliers, and arched hallways. The floor was made of glossy tile that was adorned by a fresh velvet rug that trailed the entire length of each area. You wanted to inquire more about the place but figured it would be too impeding since you were already intruding unannounced.

He halts abruptly, causing you to nearly bump into him. You were about to ask if everything was alright considering you both stood in the middle of the hallway. “Before we venture further, I must ask you to be as quiet as you can. My master is taking his nap, he must not be woken up. He gets…cranky.”

You chuckle softly, assuming the butler was referring to a child. “I understand. I know how children can be.” you spoke out presumptuously. The butler merely nodded and continued to lead you to a study. It was beautifully lavished with dark mahogany and velvet green accents with leather furnishings. A balcony presented black french doors that remained open to let the warm breeze in. “Wow…” you breathed out.

“There are outlets on each wall, you may use any one you like. Please have a seat and make yourself comfortable, madam will be in with some tea for you. Is there anything else you may need?”

You shake your head. “Oh no–thank you! You’re very nice. I will be fine, as soon as I am able to get a hold of my father I’ll be leaving. I am so sorry to bother you.” He remarks your gratitude with a small smirk. “It is not bothersome at all. It’s been many years since this household has received any guests, your presence is most welcome. Please let me know if there is anything else I can assist you with, and please remember…” he gently opens the door and looks back “about my master.”

You nod and assure that you will refrain from making any noise, and watch as the butler takes his leave.

Your phone starts to charge and you take a moment to look around the study. It was huge. Larger than most living rooms that you would find in common households, or even luxury ones. No doubt about it, this building puts the lifestyle of the rich and famous to shame. As you admired the beautiful wall trimming, you noticed a portrait on the next wall, mounted near the corner and across the magnificent desk. The large photo caught your eye as you closely admire the handsome man featured. Dressed well with beautiful auburn hair, his asiatic features stare deep into your soul as you breathe out. You’re not sure if you ever saw someone more attractive in your life. Since it was only a portrait, you wondered the effect this man would have had you met him in person, considering the photo alone was enough to make you weak in the knees.

You become lost in translation as you continue to stare at the framed piece when suddenly your phone rings loudly. “Shit!” you panicked as you raced across the room to shut off the ringing feature, completely forgetting that it was not on vibrate. It was your father calling. Afraid that the noise of your ringtone had awakened the baby, you answered and spoke quietly into the phone, cautiously looking at the door in hopes that the butler wouldn’t return upset over you waking his “master”.

“Hello? Daddy?” you answer and speak as quietly as you could, partially whispering as you cup around your mouth. Nothing but static on the other end. You peel your face away and look at the screen, only to find that there was no service. There was also no wifi. Great.

The visit to this luxury estate was a waste of time, and you tried to figure out the next step. Perhaps the butler has gas in one of the vehicles? Or maybe he can give you a ride to town?

You played around with your phone, waiting for the butler to return and seeking out a resolve to this predicament, when suddenly the corner of your eye catches on to something bright. It was warm and lightened the entire room. “What….what's that?” your tone expressed an enchanted curiosity as you leaned head in first, taking in the sight of a pedestal table with a large glass bell jar stationed at the center. It looked like a rose. The petals were made of fine crystal, appearing almost like large diamonds as they reflect a blush pink color, while the stem was made of pure gold and piqued its appeal. It dazzled, despite having no outside light to aid its glow.

Distracted by the lonesome ornament, you stood in awe. The bedazzling item had you in a hypnotic state that you remained unaware of the horned beast that lurked from the dark corner, admiring your gaze and posture. Another pretty treasure for him to keep inside a bell jar, or so it would appear. But this story will have to wait, for it is a tale as old as time…

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Would you write a dark and toxic romance fic?

For instance, Carlos Sainz has a girlfriend. F1 has an influencer program and invites a lingerie model to a race. Carlos is highly attracted to her, basically on his knees for her. She doesn't want to get involved and pushes him away. Carlos can't stop thinking about her and wants her more every time he sees her. He starts to try and seduce the model. She secretly enjoys his touch and pet names, dirty talks and etc., but stops him every time. Under some circumstance they finally fuck, Carlos is obsessed with making her feel pleasure. After that she's avoiding him but all Carlos wants is more of her. She even prohibits the driver from braking up with his gf. Carlos obey but in exchange wants the model to be his friend with benefits

**Not dark sorry**

Lady in Red (1) || CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral, cheating WC: 2.7k

One || Two || Three || Four

You tried to resist him, you really did. You could honestly put a hand on your heart and swear you turned down the advances he made but he was persistent. 

“You’re riding with me, hermosa.” You jumped at the Spanish driver's voice in your ear, not realising he had managed to get so close to you without noticing. 

“I’m meant to be in Charles' car,” you replied as your heart rate crept up, like his cleverly hidden hand on your ribs.

“Plans changed, now I get you all to myself.”

Each day you found it harder to fight the urge to give into him. The nights left you tossing in an empty bed as you imagined all the filthy things he had whispered in your ear each time he passed. This promotion with F1 and Ferrari in particular needed to end soon or, so help you, the temptation would be too much.

A clap of hands drew your attention away from Carlos and the professional photographer waved you forward to the red sports car waiting for you. You were accustomed to being the envy of the men around you, you were literally paid to lure them in with your body and the lingerie you paraded. This promotion was no different, only it seemed to be working a little too well on one man in particular - a man who was in a very public relationship. 

“Gorgeous, honey!” Cristiano blew a kiss as he snapped away on his camera, capturing your poses on the hood of the car effortlessly.

It would have been a lie to say you hadn’t noticed Carlos shuffle his way through the lighting staff and makeup artists to get a better view. You noticed, and you played with fire.

Carlos tugged at the collar of his race suit as his body temperature spiked. He had never been so enthralled by a woman before and he couldn’t let you leave without taking a bite of the forbidden fruit. The way you sat on the hood of his car made his blood race and when you leaned back and spread your legs as you looked to the sky, he swore that he had found the altar to worship on his knees for. 

Carlos bit his lip and vowed to take you like that before the campaign was over. He was going to have you, he didn’t care what he had to do to make it happen - there was no price he wouldn’t pay, and everyone had a price.

Cristiano spotted Carlos edging forward, his shadow interfering with the light and snapped his fingers at the man. “You, red man, go to her.”

Carlos didn’t need any encouragement as he strode confidently to his car and looked down at your reclined position with a dark smile. “How do you want me?”

Your lips parted with an answer before you realised he was speaking to Cristiano and snapped your mouth closed but Carlos’ smirk grew. “Do you have something to say, hermosa?”

“I thought this was a lingerie shoot.”

“I can strip down for you, I have no problem with that,” he said as he reached for his collar but you caught his hand to stop him.

“I think your girlfriend would have a problem with that.”

“Then don’t think about my girlfriend.”

“Red man, baby, you’re too stiff. Relax and take a seat,” Cristiano called out, curling a finger for you to stand up. Carlos took your place on the hood and an assistant darted across the track with his helmet. “Okay, honey, turn around and do your thing.”

You inwardly cursed as you faced Carlos and saw your reflection in the tint of his visor, the bright red lace you wore matching his suit perfectly. 

“Do your thing, hermosa,” he dared from the helmet as he lifted his feet to the front bumper and spread his knees for you to step between. 

You told yourself this was just a job, that the chemistry was purely for camera, as you placed your hands on his knees and arched your back before looking over your shoulder. The sound Cristiano made was pure excitement and he snapped a few shots with encouragement to do more. 

“Fuck, you are beautiful,” Carlos groaned as your position thrust your breasts into his line of vision and he all but whimpered when you turned around. 

You didn’t have to fake the pleasure on your face when you leaned back against Carlos and tipped your head back onto his shoulder, looking up under your lashes as you bit your lip. Without needing direction, his hands found your hips and pulled you flush against his body and your hand reached up, slipping beneath the back of his helmet to tug the strands of hair you caught.

“How wet are you, hermosa?” he whispered in your ear. “I bet you are absolutely dripping for me.”

You crossed your legs as naturally as you could in the stiletto heels and felt his chest bounce with a laugh. “Don’t be shy now. We are just getting started.”

His hands burned your skin as they slowly rose up your body and you didn’t dare breathe until they reached the cup of your bra and you pushed away from the car. You were at risk of doing something very stupid if you stayed there a moment longer. “What’s next?” you asked the director, silently begging it to be something solo so you could recover from being so close to Carlos. 

But your wish was ignored.

 “Some hot laps, you’re with Carlos.”

You looked longingly at Stacy who was making her way to Charles’ car but your view was interrupted by Carlos and the arm he threw over your shoulders, turning you to the passenger door. “Ready, cariña​?”

“Carlos…” your words died out as he opened the door and gave you a look that dared you to moan his name again so you silently took your seat.

“Open your legs.”

“No!” you gasped before looking at your lap and seeing the seatbelt was nothing like ones you had worn in the past. This one had a buckle between your thighs. “Oh.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t think about it,” he chuckled as he reached for the metal clasp, a hiss of air escaping your clenched teeth when his knuckles brushed over your panties. “It is humid here, isn’t it? Very moist.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned.

“What? I am talking about the weather. Unless you know of something else that is moist?”

“Please stop saying that word.”

“How about wet? Do you like that? You can tell me what you like, I am a very good listener.”

“I would like you to please focus on driving.”

“Relax, I am good at multitasking.”

“Like having a girlfriend and still trying to get my attention?”

Carlos scoffed before closing the door and walking around to his side. “Cariña, I’m not ‘trying’ anything, I had you the moment you walked in my garage.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

The engine started with a purr and your heart skipped a beat as Carlos smirked to himself. “We’ll see about that.”

Your entire body was trembling by the time the car came to a screeching halt at the start of the track. Adrenaline flooded your body and after the thrilling speeds that Carlos had driven at the world seemed to spin too slow. You wanted that heady feeling again, it was addictive.

Carlos had barely paid attention to the track as the sounds that you made drained his brain of his blood and sent it straight to his dick. He took the turns faster so your shoulders brushed with his and he hit the chicanes harder to see your perfect tits bounce in the barely-there bra.

“Dinner, tonight,” Carlos stated as he turned the car off and reached over to the buckle and pushed it in. The plastic pressed to the juncture of your thighs and a moan escaped before you could suppress it and he grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Carlos knocked at your hotel door right on time and you checked yourself over once more before opening it. After seeing how he had reacted to the red Ferrari & I.D Sarrieri lingerie crossover set at the photoshoot, you found an equally racy dress in the same shade of rouge.

“I thought we were going out?” you asked as you saw a tray balanced in his hand.

The look he gave you was truly devilish as he dragged his eyes down your body and back up to your face. “I prefer to eat in.”

He slipped past you and hooked his shoe on the door, kicking it closed. You stared at his back as he walked deeper into your hotel room before he turned and curled a finger, beckoning you to join him in the dining room.

“Shit,” you murmured to yourself as you took a step towards him without meaning to and thought, I’m in trouble.

Carlos placed the covered tray on the table and pulled out a chair before holding his hand out for you. Against your better judgement, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you closer. His arms curled around your back as your hands settled on his shoulders as he smiled triumphantly.

“I finally have you all to myself, hermosa.”

One hand slipped down your back but you couldn’t find the energy to fight his advances as his palm caressed the swell of your ass. You were just trying to figure out how to make your lungs breathe again when his lips stole what little air you had left.

You curled your body against him as his tongue lashed across you lips and they parted on instinct as you wanted more.

“This dress is killing me,” he groaned as his hand travelled further down until he reached the hem and dragged it up over your hips. Cool air kissed your skin that was completely bare beneath the dress. “Looks like you had plans of your own.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips sealed over the racing pulse in your neck. “I didn’t want lines showing on the dress,” you lied, because the fantasy of this moment had crossed your mind. You just hadn’t thought about the possibility of letting it go this far in real life.

You felt his teeth graze your skin as he smiled at the lie and his hands gripped your hips before he lifted you onto the table. “What are you…”

Your words faded out as he dropped into the chair and licked his lips at the sight before him. “Eating in.”

You screwed your eyes shut knowing you were going straight to hell with a Ferrari red A pinned to your dress. You screwed your eyes shut as he kissed your left calf and placed your heel on the arm of his chair before doing the same to the right.

“Cariño,” he murmured between the kisses and bites he trailed up your thighs before he lashed his tongue through your folds. “Hmm, you are so wet for me.”

You reached for his thick, dark hair and combed your fingers through it as you gave into the temptation. You tightened your fingers in the strands and pulled him back to where you needed him most. “Hasn’t anyone told you not to talk with a mouthful?”

“Where are my manners,” he chuckled, his breath scorching on your skin. “Let me make it up to you.”

Your head thumped back on the tabletop as he completely devoured you, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. The chandelier above you was almost as bright as the stars that danced around your vision as the man made a buffet of you. You had never had someone put so much passion into eating your pussy and it showed as your first orgasm quickly built and wracked your body with undulating waves of pleasure that he eagerly lapped at.

“You taste so fucking good, hermosa,” he praised as he lazily traced his fingers along your dripping slit and he rose to his feet. Your mind was in a haze and you smiled dumbly as you looked up at Carlos to see his lips glossy with your come.

“You are a filthy man,” you purred as he swiped his thumb over his bottom lip before licking it clean.

“We’re just getting started,” he teased as he reached over to the tray and lifted the lid. “Strawberry?”

You parted your lips as he dipped the sweet fruit in the tub of chocolate sauce but instead of giving you a taste, he drizzled the chocolate over the swell of your breasts. You didn’t care if it ruined the dress because his lips were on your skin, his fingers pulling the material down to bare your breasts before his tongue swirled around them.

“Fuck, Carlos,” you cried as he sucked your nipple to hard peaks. Your body burned for more, your back arching as your hips rolled in search of friction to ease the ache to be filled. “Fuck me, please.”

He didn’t need to be told twice as he reached into his pocket for a condom before unzipping his trousers. You were impatient, squirming on the table as he tore into the foil and rolled the sheath down his hard length. You sat up at the edge of the table and surprised him as you wrapped your hand around his cock, guiding him to your entrance as he watched on hungrily.

“Take it, cariña, take it,” he grunted deeply as he inched himself into your tight cunt until your bodies were pressed to each other. Your legs wrapped around his hips, your nails dug into his back, your teeth buried in his neck and he cried out your name as he snapped his hips forward.

Guilt ate at you as you dressed the next morning. The evidence of what you did was buried under layers of makeup and you swore it couldn’t happen again. Carlos was in a relationship, that should have been enough to stop you.

But he was persistent.

“Stop, someone might see,” you growled as you put your hand on his chest to stop him getting any closer. He had cornered you in a private room of Ferrari’s hospitality while you reapplied concealer to your neck.

“No ones going to come in here,” he chuckled as he easily brushed your hand aside and pulled you against him. “Don’t you want me to make you feel good again?”

“No,” you lied, your body betraying you as your nipples hardened in the thin bralette you had been scheduled to model. “Go.”

“Your lips say one thing but your hips say another,” he teased. “One touch, cariña, one touch and if you’re not wet for me then I’ll go. One. Touch. Deal?”

“No…”

“Why not?” he asked knowingly.

“Because…”

“Yes?”

You looked away from his darkening eyes and clenched your thighs together. “Because I want you to but you have a girlfriend, Carlos. This is wrong.”

“Then I’ll break up with her,” he offered, like it was the most obvious solution in the world, and pulled his phone from his pocket.

“What! No,” you gasped, grabbing the device. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to be the reason, and this was a mistake.”

His hands went back to drawing small circles over your hips and you felt yourself relaxing before you caught yourself and pushed him away. “I’m serious, Carlos, once this promo is finished we aren’t going to see each other again.”

“Then let’s enjoy it while it lasts.” His pout had you sighing in defeat. You had already crossed the line once, did the number of times really matter after that? “I’ll make you another deal, I won’t break up with Rebecca if you have dinner with me again.”

You knew exactly what he meant and exactly what was on the menu but you lied to yourself. “Just dinner,” you clarified as his smirk grew.

“Just dinner.”

Click here for part two.

[bamgyw]

˖°𖡼.𖤣𖥧 little red riding hood 𖥧𖤣.𖡼°˖

summary: afab!reader x werewolf!beomgyu just as little red riding hood entered the woods, a wolf met her. little red riding hood did not know what a wicked creature he was, and was not at all afraid of him. little red riding hood modern [smut] retelling.

warnings: afab!reader. little plot, big chunk of smut at the end. fingering, biting, sucking, they fuck in the forest? dub-con. definitely not as pretentious and cheaper than six nights.

word count: 6,5k

rey yaps: rey comeback. yay. as you can see, this is not the six night update. i am so very sorry. if you don't like it, i did it on purpose. it's camp. happy halloween. 

once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved by everyone who looked at her. whenever the wind whistled she wore a warm, scarlet cloak, so she was always called little red riding hood.

the window’s open just enough for the wind to slip through and moan against the narrow slit. its sighs blend with the creeping chill of autumn nights, making it too easy for her to ignore the other sound—the low, mournful howl of the wolf stalking just beyond the trees. waiting. starving.

but inside—warm, cozy, oblivious—she’s giddy, caught up in the process of getting dolled up. the vanity of the pre-party ritual. halloween night, or the night to honor the ancestors' harvest festival by dressing like an unapologetic slut.

she leans in closer to the mirror, dragging the eyeliner brush across her eyelid. the black ink smudges into a sultry, careless flick.

her reflection stares back—rosy cheeks, fox like eyes, lips twitching into a smirk as she perfects her look. red little riding hood. she’s got that ominous, almost brilliant look of blood on snow; hair like lint, cheeks tinted a synthetic red, lips red like wine.

outside, the darkness gathers thick. that part of town—the forgotten edge where the trees grow too tall, too twisted, their branches clawing at the sky—has a reputation. by day, the leaves rustle with tiny, cheerful birds. but by nightfall the trees bend into shapes that shouldn’t exist, and the black between them isn’t just dark. it’s hungry.

she doesn’t care. not tonight. she’s excited.

she’s got a boyfriend, and she adores him in that hopeless, foolish way. taehyun—so princely, so mature, so different from any other boy she’s ever known. just the thought of him sends a flutter through her stomach.

but her excitement falters, her hand with the eyeliner brush pausing mid-stroke.

for quite some time now, she’s had the gnawing feeling that taehyun doesn’t like her anymore. he's distant. cold. the hunger in his eyes has dulled into something worse than disinterest. he doesn’t kiss her the same, doesn’t touch her like he used to. the golden glint of lust she once saw in his gaze is now replaced by dull apathy. 

but not tonight. tonight, she’s going to fix that.

she has gotten herself a ridiculous little dress, so charming and frilly that it would drive any boy insane. a costume meant for a twelve-year-old, that should stretch over her curves and frame her just so. a skirt that's more like a belt made of little ruffles, barely brushing the tops of her thighs. puffed sleeves, and a corset cinched tight enough to steal her breath—she doesn’t care. she’s pulling the hunger back into her boyfriend's eyes.

the cheap red costume lays across the tub, a mess of fabric that’ll turn her into something untouchable. a gift for him, draped in lace and bows. she shrugs off her bathrobe, careful to close the door but leaving the curtains wide open. why bother? what harm could come from the empty wilds?

in a deep red bra and panties that cling like fresh blood to bare skin, the fabric is thin, barely there, a gauze that the cool night air slices through. the chill raises goosebumps, and her nipples harden beneath the lace, two sharp peaks straining against the sheer veil.

somewhere in the woods, the wolf is watching. 

she notices her own reflection and pauses, taking in how her body looks under the dim light. the slight tremble of her chest, the rosy peaks beneath the lace. her breath catches in her throat as she runs a hand over her stomach, feeling the curve of her waist. 

somewhere in the woods, the wolf starts salivating.

she has drowned in self-loathing lately. the boy she loves has been treating her like she’s nothing. she’s felt like nothing. but tonight —must be the witches, the spirits and the ghosts— she feels pretty.

the wolf thinks she’s pretty too. he has spotted a tender, plump mouthful, and hunger is curling in his belly. he can’t hold back anymore, and his howl cuts through the silence—sharp, hollow, vicious. and the wolfsong is a warning. the sound of death by the window.

she freezes. a chill creeps down her spine, not from the cold, but from something primal. she holds her breath, listening. and then she hears it—a soft, distant inhale. a wet and heavy breathing. not hers. human, but not quite.

her head snaps toward the window, eyes wide. there, in the darkness, something moves. no, someone moves. two glowing yellow lights. embers, burning. they don’t blink. they just… watch.

she pulls the drapes shut, heart racing, forcing a grin. halloween, she thinks. just some asshole playing a prank. a cheap, silly trick.

somewhere in the woods, the wolf smiles.

just as little red riding hood entered the wood, a wolf met her. little red riding hood did not know what a wicked creature he was, and was not at all afraid of him.

"just go from streetlight to streetlight," she tells herself. 

focus. one light. two. a quick breath of safety before plunging into the next stretch of black. the cold night air curls around her, prickling her skin like needles.

her little red heels click against the uneven pavement, the sound echoing in the stillness. for a moment, she feels that gnawing, unshakable sense that she's not alone. but she shrugs it off, laughs under her breath, calling it paranoia.

the road ahead glimmers beneath a blanket of fallen leaves, slick and shimmering in the muted glow. on either side, the dense, impenetrable forest looms—a thick monster of dark green and black, framing her path to the party.

above, the moon, full and obscene, watches her like a voyeur. all still. all quiet.

except, that is, for the rustling of leaves beneath the predator’s steps. the wolf moves with ease, slipping behind her unnoticed, eyes on her legs as they sway, hungry. 

this is his territory. she just doesn’t know it yet.

tucked inside her little basket—a cute part of the costume she’s rebranded as a purse,—there’s a small pocket knife. mom’s voice echoes in her head: “you never know what's lurking out there, darling.”

however, no amount of steel could cut through the one rule. the rule older than the trees that lined this cursed path. in the history of women walking alone at night—never, ever make eye contact.

so when she sees the shadow up ahead—thin, crooked, leaning against a lamppost with a cigarette hanging lazily from his lips—her heart does what it must. it kicks into overdrive.

head up. eyes forward. don’t let him know you're aware of his existence. her fingers tighten around the basket’s handle, knuckles turning white. it’s fine, she lies to herself. just keep walking.

one meter.

he tilts his head slightly, tracking her as she nears, but doesn’t move. her heels click louder now, faster, echoing hollow.

two meters.

close enough to smell the smoke curling from his cigarette. her skin crawls, but she doesn’t falter. just a few more steps and he’ll be behind her, another shadow, another forgotten threat. she feels a sudden, punctuating cold down her neck, but she barely pays attention to it.

three meters.

she passes him, breath held, heart pounding. it's done, she's safe. her fear was stupid, it always is. then it happens—a hand, cold and solid, lands on her shoulder.

her stomach drops. she spins, ready to scream or run, but the words die on her lips when she sees him.

a beautiful boy, just—beautiful.

dark, untamed. his hair’s a mess, falling over his forehead, deep brown eyes glowing like embers. flannel over a ragged band tee, the faint scent of smoke and damp leaves hangs around him.

“you dropped this.” his voice is low, nearly a growl, as he holds out her little red hood. it must’ve fallen when she rushed past.

“o-oh.” she stammers, half breathless, “thanks. i didn’t even realize.”

as she takes it from him, his gaze lingers for too long, making her hyper-aware of the way the dress clings to her body.

“pretty…” he says, the word half-whispered. a slight and wicked smirk touches his lips, like he knows he can degrade the costume and the girl beneath with just a single look.

a shiver races down her spine, but she forces a smile. “t-thanks.”

his eyes drag up and down her body, slow, making sure she notices. heat blooms in her neck, unbidden, and she tells herself—this dress is for taehyun, not for some stranger who smells like rain-soaked earth and cigarettes. and yet, when he bites his lip, something flutters low in her stomach—dangerous, thrilling.

“little late to be walking around dressed like that, don’t you think?” he sneers, and scorn flickers in his eyes. but the humiliation sends a shiver through her, one she doesn’t quite hate. “you headed to the party?”

“obviously,” she shoots back, spreading her arms, letting him take in the dress—though he’s already noticed, definitely. still, she’s relieved. he knows about the party, and suddenly he feels closer, more familiar. not quite a stranger anymore. “you?”

“yeah,” he shrugs, casual, like it’s nothing. “not really big on parties, though. i prefer the quiet.” his voice dips, eyes lingering on her. “but you gotta socialize… or you get lonely.”

“right.” she quirks a smirk, finally letting herself look him up and down. “but it’s a costume party, you know.”

“oh, i’m in costume. i’m just subtle,” he says, grin spreading wider, darker. “wanna see?”

against her better judgment—against every instinct screaming at her to walk away—she nods. his smirk deepens. he lifts his lip, just enough for a single sharp fang to catch in the dim light.

she laughs, half-relieved. “that barely counts as a costume.”

“oh, but it counts,” he says.

“fine. so, what are you supposed to be?”

he leans in just a little closer, his words coiling around her like smoke. “that’s the game, pet. you have to guess. guess right, and you win something. guess wrong...” his smile widens. “well, i get something.”

naive and pathetically charmed by the boy, she raises an eyebrow. “what do i get?”

he leans back, pretending to think, though his eyes never leave hers. "i mean... i'm a stranger in the woods. you get to walk away... unharmed."

poor thing, she rolls her eyes like he was joking. "and if i don't guess right," she speaks, her voice softer now. "what do you want?"

"a kiss."

her heart stumbles. she'd give it to him, gladly. hell, she'd guess wrong just to get their lips together. but... “i'm really sorry i…” she stammers, smile faltering, “i have a boyfriend.” 

and though he doesn't seem fazed, his expression shifts. subtle, but unmistakable. his eyes darken, the playful charm fading away. “you shouldn’t go around teasing strangers when you're all alone like this,” he says softly, “might find yourself in trouble.”

she swallows hard, "i– i'm so sorry, i wasn't trying to—" 

“it’s whatever,” he says, stepping back into the shadows, his voice a low warning. “go to your boyfriend, little red. but be careful. there are wolves out here. and not all of them are as friendly as me.” he pauses, a smirk twisting his lips. “name’s beomgyu, by the way.”

and so little red riding hood wanders on, oblivious to the truth: wolves wear many skins, each one crafted to prey on vanity, on longing, on the hollow spaces left unguarded.

they slip through shapes, feeding on weakness and hunger. but it’s in the glow of those predatory eyes that you recognize him. the unmistakable trace of his essence, the constant lurking in every form.

the wolf is as cunning as he is ferocious; once he’s had a taste of flesh then nothing else will do.

the halloween party is but a yearly excuse for yeonjun to show off how filthily rich he is and make a joke out of it. as if by opening the doors of his mansion to the rest of the mortals he lets them in on the punchline. a spectacle for the sake of being one. a big parody of himself. 

and tonight, he’s dressed as gatsby, because of course he is. the slick white suit shimmers under the bruised purple lights, like a spotlight trailing him—and it might as well be, because yeonjun is the spotlight, soaking in every second of it. 

he carries a champagne glass permanently attached to his hand, always swirling just enough liquid to keep things classy but not sober. every grin he flashes feels rehearsed, and he keeps crooning “old sport!" at anyone close enough to hear.

he's a cartoon. a well-dressed, charming caricature of wealth and tragedy, and everyone in the room knows it. and they love it. and he loves it more than anyone.

the music thumps through the house like a pulse, vibrating underfoot and inside ribcages. it’s too fast, too loud, forcing everyone to keep moving or else be swallowed up by the noise. by the chaos. bodies blend together, creating a messy tangle of limbs and sweat, grinding and swaying under the flickering strobe lights.

a chandelier overhead swings crooked, crystals throwing fractured light around, mimicking a starry sky in a thousand different colors. it's gaudy, too big for the room, and yet perfect for yeonjun’s vision. a crown fit for the king of excess. 

she sits on the edge of it all, watching. just watching. taehyun’s next to her, but he might as well be miles away.

his eyes are glued to yeonjun who leans in close, whispering something in his ear, pointing out random people in the room. every now and then, taehyun’s lips twitch into a smirk as he scans the room like he’s calculating everyone's worth, everyone’s weaknesses.

he hasn’t looked at her once. she could have been invisible.

the bitterness stings, but she pushes it down. instead, she reaches out, her fingers grazing his arm, trying to pull him back to her, even if just for a second. “hey… you wanna get out of here? somewhere quieter?”

taehyun doesn’t react at first, not even a flicker of recognition in his eyes. he’s in his own world, lost in whatever game yeonjun’s playing. 

dressed as a medieval knight, his armor shines under the lights, making him look even more untouchable. when he finally speaks, it’s almost an afterthought. “yeah, yeah. in a bit.” his words are hollow, thrown over his shoulder like loose change. “just… give us a second.”

and before she can process it, yeonjun’s turning toward them with that same cruel smile he’s been flashing all night. “god, you’re clingy,” he says, “can’t handle not being the center of attention for, what, five minutes?”

her stomach twists, heat flooding her face. “i wasn’t—” she starts, but her soft spoken words quickly fall short.

“it’s fine,” taehyun cuts in, still not looking at her, “just… chill, okay? we’ll leave soon.”

it feels like a slap. not hard, not violent. just… cold. her chest tightens. and it’s so clear now—he doesn’t care. he’s tolerating her, only and barely. her fingers clench into fists on her lap. she swallows hard, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over.

"i’m… i’m going to the bathroom," she says, voice barely audible over the pounding music. but it doesn’t matter. taehyun doesn’t hear her. 

she drifts through the crowd like smoke, unseen, slipping between the life and color all around her, barely there.

she finds her way out to the porch, cold air cutting into her skin, sharp as the bitter edge of disappointment still lingering in her chest. she hugs her arms, the night heavy and indifferent, pressing in on her as if to make her smaller.

yeonjun’s yard sprawls below, made-up like a graveyard—plastic tombstones lurch from the soil, skeletons claw out of dirt, grinning skulls leer up at her from the fog.

her breath puffs into the night, fading just as she feels she has, every inch of her dressed up for someone who never even noticed. ridiculous fucking slut.

but then, the air thickens, a chill going down her spine. she senses him before she sees him. a crackle in the dark, the slow burn of a cigarette lighting up.

“you look… sad, little red,” barely a purr. low, smooth, a murmur from the dark that curls around her like a trap.

she startles, spinning, heart slamming up to her throat. it’s him. beomgyu. the boy from the woods.

he's lounging against a stone grave, cigarette dangling from his fingers. his face is a smirk made of shadow, his eyes glinting, almost like he’s playing at something, watching her to see if she’ll play along.

“why aren’t you inside?” she asks.

“i told you," he says, snuffing out the cigarette against the stone, his gaze never leaving her face. "i like the quiet. besides...” his smirk stretches, razor-sharp. “can’t say i’m exactly welcome in there.”

then he stands. he steps closer. that lazy, stalking pace that narrows the distance between them, each footfall a reminder of who’s in control. the night presses her back against the railing.

“you’ll freeze out here, pet,” he says, words tipped with a cruel sort of sweetness.

he’s looking at her the way a wolf might look at a lamb. like he could devour her whole, and god help her, a spark of thrill runs down her spine, sharp as a nail.

she stares, heart skittering in her chest, searching his face for something human—but his eyes are restless, ravenous. and yet they see her, see through her. why couldn’t taehyun ever look at her like that? why couldn’t he see her like beomgyu did?

“i… i want to take that bet.” she asks, trying to keep her voice steady.

his eyes spark, the faintest flicker, and she feels like she’s opened a door she can’t close. he leans in, his smirk curling wider. “what about the boyfriend?”

she holds his gaze, refuses to look away, “the boyfriend doesn't give a fuck about me.”

one of his hands is already sliding around her waist like a snake coiling around prey. the other lifts to the neckline of her dress, fingers sliding up to tug gently at the red ribbon there, toying with it.

“then guess, little red,” he murmurs, lips curling into a pout that pretends innocence, “what am i?”

and from the bottom of her being, she knows what he is. but she doesn’t dare put it into words. she decides to guess wrong.

“a kitten, maybe?” her voice comes out playful, teasing, such a pretty little fool, “with those cute fangs?”

he laughs, sharp and cocky, and she watches his tongue glide over his canines. “wrong,” he murmurs, leaning down, his grin widening. “you owe me something now, don't you?”

she smiles, heart racing as she tiptoes to reach him and his arm tightens around her waist, providing a steady anchor. her lips brush his just barely, the peck of a little bunny.

but he’s already got her, pulling her in harder, his mouth a claim, his kiss a taking. his lips are cold, but the kiss is hot, burning. his jaw tightens and loosens wide and heavy, lips pressing against hers with a force that feels like he's taking something from her—something she didn't agree to give.

she allows him to do as he pleases, giving herself to him like she's under a spell. she clings to his frame, hands gripping his shoulders, body caught up in the press of him.

her breath becomes shallow, her mind a blur. his touch, his heat, too much all at once, too intense, too—

she dares to open her eyes. just to look at him. just for a second.

and she's terrified to discover that his once brown gaze is now molten, liquid yellow, something feral staring back at her. her pulse jumps, fear clawing its way up.

she pulls back, gasping, but he’s already there, leaning in again, his mouth hovering like he wants to bite, to consume. she raises her hands, warding him off. “i… i think i should go back inside.”

"why?" he purrs, and his breath impatient and almost manic against her cheek. "scared, little red?"

her throat tightens, "i don’t really… know you, and…" she tries to step away, but his hands close around her waist like iron. trapping her.

"you don’t need to." his fingers dig into her, reminding her that her body is his to command. he draws her close, “let’s play one last game, pet. just one. what do you say?”

“what… kind of game?” she asks.

and just like that he lets go. he steps back. a twisted offering of freedom she knows can't be trusted.

“we race,” he says, voice low, almost playful. “you run. back to your house. if you make it—” his eyes gleam, hungry “—i leave you alone.”

“and if i don’t?”

beomgyu never replies. he stays silent, shadows pooling in his amber eyes.

the full moon hangs ivory, casting a ghostly glare across his face. he glances up at it, bathing in it's glow like it's medicine. then his gaze drifts back to her, that twisted, merciless smile twisting his face.

and he just starts counting down.

ten... nine... eight...

she doesn't wait for seven.

she bolts. she flies down the steps, heart pounding, her feet barely grazing the ground as she breaks into the night. gravel scrapes beneath her heels.

six.

she ditches her shoes mid-sprint, stumbling onto the cold, wet ground. the fake cemetery looms around her, fog twisting between the tombstones as adrenaline pushes her forward.

five.

the sound of him shifts, something subtle at first—a dark, guttural growl building low in his throat. her heart stutters. it’s happening.

four.

a crackle of bone, a sickening pop, a snarl splitting the quiet night. something breaking, reshaping. she hears his breath deepen, his bones stretching, snapping.

three.

a howl cuts through the night, piercing, shuddering through her bones, her skin, her soul. the sound belongs to something that is no longer human.

two.

she dares to glance over her shoulder, just once, and what she sees makes her blood run cold. a massive, shadowed figure, fur gleaming silver under the moonlight, teeth bared in a snarl that sends ice through her veins.

his eyes, the same molten yellow as before, are locked on her, brimming with a hunger that borders on savage.

she never hears the one. she just runs and runs, as fast as she can. but the wolf is faster.

carnivore incarnate, only immaculate flesh appeases him.

the trees claw at the sky. gnarled limbs jutted out, crooked talons waiting to snatch her, tear her apart, make her one with the dark.

she doesn’t run but hurtles through the blackness, branches snapping beneath her feet like brittle bones. the forest isn't just there anymore—it's aware, watching her, toying with her. she can’t stop. can’t even breathe. 

he's after her. and he's close.

“guess right, and you get to walk away unharmed.” how she regrets what she's done. she should've guessed right. should've kept her life instead of trading it for a kiss. stupid mistake. stupid choice by a foolish girl.

but just when she's about to give up she sees—between the curtain of twisted trees, the faintest flicker of light. her house. it's almost a visual illusion. something so desired it seems unreal. so near. almost there. her heart skips with hope.

she never makes it.

something cold as death clamps around her wrist, yanking her back. her body slams against a thick, gnarled oak tree, the bark biting into her back. it’s like the forest itself is starving for her, clawing at her, pulling her deeper into its hunger.

she feels red-hot, searing pain. then the wet warmth of his breath on her face. human again, if you can even call him that. all ragged, scraped and scratched. but human.

"run, run, run," he purrs, voice slick with amusement, "did you really think you could get away?"

it was never about catching her—it was always about the chase. the thrill of letting her think she could escape, just to tear that illusion apart in the final, hopeless moment.

she’s not escaping. not now. not ever.

"little red," he says with a sultry pout, his index finger tracing her jawline, “you seem so scared…”

“w-what are you going to do to me?” she asks.

she tries to wrestle, always avoiding his eyes. but each movement affects her physically, making her more aware of his body against hers, of his hands upon her.

he lowers himself, bringing his face close to her neck and breathes her in. his nose grazes her skin in a barely-there caress that makes her insides tighten. he nuzzles his head against her throat, his body stirring as if comforted by the scent. 

“you smell even better up close,” he says, his lips parting as they hover over her neck. he lets his tongue brush her skin, savoring the faint saltiness. “taste even better than i imagined."

he sends a shiver through her, a crackling thrill that races under her skin. her heart beats so swiftly that she feels as though this were the moment she had expected for years. she almost stands up on her toes to hear the rest of his words.

"you’re so beautiful, little red.” he continues. “boyfriend never noticed, but i did. i’ve been waiting for this… for so long.”

and she knows it's true. she would’ve known even if he hadn’t said a word—could’ve felt it in the way his arms cage her against the rough bark of that oak, the trembling eagerness in his body. 

he wants her, not gently, but raw and feral. and when she meets his gaze, those amber eyes glowing in the half-light, starvation licking at the edges, she feels something inside her shift. the want for this monster—this creature with fire burning in his stare, diabolically phosphorescent.

in quiet awe, she says, “what big eyes you have.”

“all the better to see you with.”

he does see her. exactly how she wants to be seen. and she wants to let him see more.

she pulls off her scarlet shawl—a flash of poppies, the bloody bloom of sacrifice. and since fear is of no use to her now, she sheds it like old skin, too. next, the blouse—soft, almost apologetic in the way it slides over her head—leaving her breasts bare, kissed by the cold silver of moonlight.

his arms find her without thinking, tight, firm, an embrace that feels like iron bands. in that grip, something stirs inside her, something she hasn't felt in so long it almost frightens her—it’s not just being wanted, but being claimed, protected, as though she belongs to him entirely.

“what big arms you have,” she breathes, her fingers tracing the hard ridges of his bicep, brute strength beneath her palms.

“all the better to hold you with,” he grins, his lips parting just enough for her to catch the white of teeth. the daggers of fangs.

her voice drops to a whisper, “what big teeth you have.”

“all the better to eat you with...”

his words slither out just before his mouth crashes onto hers, devouring. his lips, firm and greedy, drink from her, swallowing her breath, tongue invading with a force that leaves her dizzy.

his hands grip her body with the same ruthless intensity, fingers mauling her flesh like claws, leaving painful bruises blooming under his touch.

his mouth drifts lower, down to her jaw, down to her neck, teeth grazing her skin in teasing bites, until he finds the soft skin of her chest. the hardened, sensitive nipple. he sucks hard enough to leave a bruise. a mark of ownership. meant to hurt. to claim.

his tongue grazes the sensitive peak again, teasing her with the cruelty of it, dragging it out. her breath falters, and before she can choke it back, a broken whimper slips out.

“good girl,” he purrs against her skin, “such a good little pup.”

his hands aren’t far behind. they drift lower, fingers tracing the curve of her body, abandoning her chest like it’s no longer enough. they slide down her sides lingering over her stomach before slipping between her thighs. his fingers brush the garters, barely caressing the lace straps holding them tight against her legs.

“too tight, don’t you think?” his voice is quieter now, almost thoughtful. he traces the garter’s edge again, pressing into the skin where it’s biting in. “let’s see if it left a mark.”

he lifts her skirt, letting her feel every inch of skin being exposed, every second of her body laid bare to his gaze. her leg lifts instinctively, just a small movement, but enough for him to slide the garter down, peeling it away from her thigh.

and there, above the edge of her stocking, her skin gleams, reddened, damaged by the strap. he stares for a second too long, then up at her, asking for permission, knowing very well he has it already.

of course, she lets him.

his fingers skim the inside of her thigh, higher, until they’re at the edge of her panties, toying with the fabric like it’s something fragile. he grins, teasing. and she sees in his eyes, in his invigorated breath, that something violent is coming. 

his fingers press against her cunt, once, cold and firm, right against the damp fabric clinging to her skin. then comes a ruthless slap, quick, and she bites down on her lip hard enough to taste blood. then a second slap, harder, leaving her moaning, and her hips jerking toward him.

without a word, his finger slips past the soaked fabric, and makes its way inside her, slow but firm, pushing through the heat of her skin like he’s sinking into something molten, something desperate.

her back arches hard against him, her head falling onto his shoulder. the surrender comes easily—she doesn’t fight it. she opens for him, lets him push deeper, lets him take.

he stops when he’s knuckle-deep, breath hot against her ear. "you like that, little red?”

her heart slams against her chest, and the wet heat grows, slick and throbbing. she can only nod and let out a pathetic “hmph”. 

she’s already soaked, but the need—the ache—builds with every passing second, with every subtle shift of his breath, his body looming over hers like a shadow.

another finger slips in, just as slow, until he curls them inside her, pressing deep enough that she feels every inch. her entire body trembles, a soft moan slipping from her mouth.

he pulls out his fingers, but only for a second before he plunges them back in, harder this time, deeper. forcing her body to open for him. her breath hitches, and her cunt clenches around him, her walls spasming as he presses further.

“such a tiny little hole…” he says, almost to himself, a wicked grin curling his lips. 

when he withdraws, he drags it out, agonizingly slow, like he wants her to feel every ridge of his knuckles as they pull back. the emptiness is immediate, the loss of him, the loss of that pressure, unbearable. 

he holds his hand up, and her eyes widen. she can see the evidence of her need painted across his skin, shining under the dim light. 

the dampness between her thighs coats his fingers in a thick sheen. it glistens, dripping down toward his palm, the slick strings of her arousal hanging between his fingers. “so fucking wet for me,” he growls, his voice rough, edged with a sharp, dark amusement. “dripping like a little slut.”

his hand moves again, back down, fingers sliding over her trembling cunt, tracing along the wet, swollen folds. when his fingers find her clit, they barely press—just enough to make her shiver, just enough to make her whimper. the wet bud throbs under his touch, every nerve in her body firing at once.

"beomgyu p-please," she whispers, barely recognizing the sound of her own voice.

the grin that spreads across his face is demonic, a depraved satisfaction settling in the lines of his jaw. every second that passes is his to control. in one fluid motion, his hands are at the waistband of his jeans, undoing them with a pull. 

the pants slide down, peeling off like skin, and then he’s free. the hard line of him, thick, swollen, standing rigid in the faint light. it gleams, slick at the tip with precum, and her breath stumbles over itself, catching, holding, as her eyes latch onto the sight. 

his hand wraps around his cock and he strokes himself, the rhythm heavy. his size makes her breath hitch—the way she knows he’s going to stretch her, fill her completely.

the thought of him fucking into her becomes all-consuming. her thighs tremble, and she can feel the clenching heat between her legs, aching, desperate.

he moves corruptly slow, dragging the swollen tip of his cock down, sliding it through the soaked mess of her folds. it’s a tease, the wet heat of her slick coating him, and the pressure of him right there—right at her entrance—makes her head spin.

a moan escapes, soft, helpless, her lips parting as he toys with her, his cock gliding up and down, never giving her enough, always holding back just a little longer.

his eyes lock with hers, and they’re glowing, that eerie golden glow, something unholy in them, “beg for me.” 

“p-please,” she chokes out, the haze of lust clouding every rational thought. “please, beomgyu… i need you. please.”

the second the words spill from her mouth, he moves. he thrusts into her, forcing her open, the thick length of his cock splitting her apart. the stretch is instant, a burn that radiates through her core, and she gasps, her back arching as he fills her. 

the tightness of her cunt clamps around him, a desperate attempt to take him all in, and she can feel every inch of him, every ridge, every vein as he pushes deeper, harder, until he’s buried to the hilt, his cock seated deep inside her.

he grips her hips with ruthless strength, his fingers digging into her skin, sure to leave marks, bruises that will linger. he holds her there, buried deep inside her, savoring the way her body shakes, the way her walls flutter around him.

“ah, fuck…” he groans, his voice rough and guttural like he’s barely holding back from wrecking her completely.

a tremble runs through her like a live wire, raw nerves, everything sparking at once. she adjusts to the size of him inside her, body bending, flexing around the thick intrusion. she feels like she's being split open, the sharp line between pleasure and pain blurring until it’s just sensation—hot, pulsing, overwhelming. 

he starts to move, each thrust like a shock to her system. his hips grind into her with almost cruel force, ricocheting pleasure up her spine, waves crashing in her chest. 

"look at you," he growls, voice thick with satisfaction, "taking me so well. fuck, my little pet, keep making those noises for me,”

she whimpers in response as the coil of pleasure in her belly winds tighter, tighter, pulling her in. he slides in and out of her, their bodies tangled, twisting, rolling together. her cries now mount in endless spirals, loud as if he was murdering her. 

beomgyu answers each cry with a deeper thrust, pushing into her harder, his hips slamming against hers with a brutal sound. he’s lost in it, in her, in the need to possess her to annihilation. she belongs to him now, her body molded to fit his touch, pliable under his hands. 

his fingers tangle in her hair, yanking her head back, exposing the vulnerable curve of her neck, and his lips find her there, hot and hungry, biting, sucking, the sharp edge of his teeth sinking into her skin between breathless kisses.

his grip tightens as his thrusts become frantic, erratic, the control slipping from his grasp. “s-so fucking close,” he groans, his voice raw, trembling, every word a struggle against the rising tide of his release.

and with one final, savage thrust, she's the first one to shatter. 

the orgasm crashes into her with a force that steals her breath, her vision blurring, her walls clamping down around him as her climax takes over.

he escapes a low, animalistic sound. a howl that vibrates through her chest. he fucks her through her oversensitivity and his thrusts grow rougher, less controlled, his hips slamming into hers. the obscene slap of their bodies colliding fills the air, the noise of flesh on flesh, sweat-slick and raw.

he curses under his breath, his hips stuttering, his cock buried deep inside her as he finally comes, his release spilling into her, thick and hot, filling her completely, warmth flooding through her as her body trembles uncontrollably under the onslaught of pleasure.

beomgyu’s teeth sink deep into her flesh. biting hard enough to leave marks, her skin yielding under his canines, and she whimpers, too far gone to feel the pain, her body burning with pleasure, every nerve on fire, every sensation magnified as the aftershocks ripple through her, wave after wave of white-hot bliss.

his cock twitches inside her, pulsing, pumping more of his release into her, and she sobs, her body shaking as the pleasure rips through her, the intensity of it almost too much to bear. her vision blurs, white-hot flashes behind her eyes, and all she can feel is him—filling her, marking her, owning her.

with a snarl, he finally pulls back, releasing her neck, and a soft moan slips from her lips as his tongue flicks over the small wound he’s left behind, licking away the blood, soothing the sting with gentle kisses. there’s a tenderness to his touch now, strange and foreign after the brutality.

slowly, he shifts his hips, easing his cock out of her, and she whimpers at the sensation, her body so sensitive that every movement reignites the sparks of arousal beneath her skin. she feels him drag against her, the last of his release leaking out of her, warm and thick, a reminder of how thoroughly he’s claimed her.

she lies there, spent, panting, her body soft and malleable under his hands, no longer her own but something broken, something he’s molded, possessed. his slave, his ownership, growing soft under his fingers.

for a moment, everything is still. 

the only sound is their ragged breathing, their chests rising and falling in sync. his body stays pressed against hers, his warmth seeping into her, grounding her in the moment. his lips brush her ear, “you’re mine now, little red. all mine.”

she doesn’t even have the strength to respond. she’s spent, hollowed out, drained of everything, her body limp, barely held together by the weight of him, by the grip of his hands still clutching her as if she might slip away. everything feels far away, like she’s underwater.

the world fades—blurry sounds, dim lights—and then she’s weightless, cradled in his arms as he carries her like something fragile. 

there’s nothing but moonlit quiet and deathly cold in the woods. only the soft fall of his steps, paw prints in the ground. 

and little red sleeps, forever nestled in the arms of the tender wolf.

taglist 𖥧𖤣.𖡼°˖ @beomiracles @yoseicour @fairfootedflekk @bubbly-moon @izzyy-stuff and i know more people asked to be on the general taglist but i'm an idiot and i never kept track so. yeah. sorry. just ask again.

[hynzsn]

Just male reader wants to ride bang chan after chan being stressed from work.

★ STRESS RELIEF ★

☆ bangchan x male reader

-> idol!chan x non-idol!reader

꩜ .ᐟ smut

contents: top!bangchan x bottom!reader, m/m, anal sex, cock riding, anal fingering, studio setting, chan being stressed from work, established relationship, porn without plot/what plot?, explicit language, neck kisses, tongue kissing, straddling, neck nuzzling, praise, aftercare, chan calls reader “babe.”

wc: 1.2k (i think)

a/n: i feel like this is so rushed 😭 forgive mee >.< i didn’t realize until after i read through it how rushed it actually was. like i probably missed out a few things but oh well. i hope the person who requested this likes it.

♡︎♡︎♡︎ likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡︎♡︎♡︎

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

you find bangchan hunched over his desk in the dimly lit studio, headphones on, fingers flying over his keyboard. the room is filled with the soft glow of computer screens and the faint hum of unfinished tracks. you watch him for a moment, heart aching at the sight of his tense shoulders and exhausted expression. you know he's been working non-stop, barely taking a break, and it's starting to take a toll on him.

"chan," you call softly, stepping into the room.

he doesn't hear you at first, so you move closer, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. he jumps slightly, pulling off his headphones and turning to face you. his eyes soften when he sees you, but there's still a hint of stress lingering in them.

"hey, babe," he says, voice tired but affectionate. "what are you doing here?"

"i came to check on you," you reply, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead. "you’ve been working too hard."

he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "i know, but there's so much to do. i can't afford to take a break right now."

you shake your head, cupping his face in your hands. "you need to relax, chan. come on, let's take a break. just for a little while."

he hesitates, but the pleading look in your eyes convinces him. he nods, letting you pull him up from his chair. you lead him over to the couch in the corner of the studio, pushing him down gently. he looks up at you, curiosity and a hint of arousal in his eyes as you straddle his lap.

“babe, what are you doing?" he asks, though there's no real protest in his voice.

you smirk, leaning in to kiss him deeply. "just let me take care of you, okay? you need to relax, and i know exactly how to help."

he groans as you grind down against him, already starting to get hard under you. you kiss him again, more urgently this time, your hands moving to unbutton his shirt. he shivers as your fingers brush against his skin, his hands coming up to grip your hips.

"fuck, babe," he mutters against your lips. "you’re gonna drive me crazy."

"that’s the plan," you reply with a grin, trailing kisses down his neck.

you can feel his cock straining against his pants, and you waste no time in unbuttoning them, pulling them down just enough to free him. your breath catches as you take in the sight of his impressive length—thick and veined, his cock stands proud and flushed a deep, enticing shade of red. it curves slightly upwards, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.

the sight alone is enough to make your mouth water, and you can't help but let out a soft moan of appreciation. he hisses as the cool air hits his heated skin, his hands tightening on your hips as he watches your reaction with dark, hooded eyes.

"lift your hips a little," you instruct, reaching for the small bottle of lube that chan, the little minx, had stashed on the side table behind a stack of notebooks.

he obeys, and you take a moment to strip off your own clothes, tossing them aside carelessly. as you stand there, fully exposed, you catch chan’s heated gaze raking over your body, his eyes darkening with lust.

you smirk, enjoying the way his breath hitches when you slick your fingers up with lube. locking eyes with him, you reach behind yourself, circling your anus with one finger before slowly pushing in. chan couldn’t help but groan at the sight, his grip on your hips almost becoming painful as you drive him wild.

"fuck, y/n," he mutters. "you’re so hot."

you added a second finger, scissoring them inside you. the stretch burns slightly, but it's a familiar and welcome sensation. you take your time, wanting to make sure you're fully prepared for him. chan’s eyes are glued to your movements, his breathing growing heavier with each passing second.

"fuck, i need you," he breathes, his voice strained.

"almost there," you assure him, adding a third finger and thrusting them in and out a few times before pulling them out completely.

you pour some more lube into your hand, slicking up his cock and giving it a few strokes. he groans loudly, his head falling back against the couch as he bucks up into your hand.

"y/n," he whines slightly. "i need to be inside you."

you position yourself above him, lining him up with your asshole. you sink down slowly, taking him inch by inch, the stretch almost too much but exactly what you need. he grips your hips tightly, his eyes locked on where you’re connected.

"fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his voice thick with arousal.

you start to move, riding him slowly at first to let both of you adjust. the feeling of him filling you completely is intoxicating, and you can't help the moan that escapes your lips. his hands guide you, urging you to move faster, and you comply, picking up the pace.

the room is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans and his groans blending together in a symphony of pleasure. you can feel the tension in his body slowly starting to melt away, replaced by pure, unadulterated need.

"chan, you feel so good," you moan, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as you ride him harder.

he thrusts up to meet your movements, “yeah? fuck, you're amazing."

you lean down to kiss him, your tongues tangling as you continue to move together. the angle shifts slightly, and you gasp as he hits that perfect spot inside you. he smirks against your lips, clearly pleased with your reaction.

"right there?" he asks, his voice breathless.

"yes, fuck, right there," you reply, your nails digging into his shoulders.

he thrusts up harder, hitting that spot over and over until you're seeing stars. the pleasure is overwhelming, and you can feel your orgasm building rapidly.

"chan, i’m close," you warn, your voice barely more than a whimper.

"me too, babe," he responds, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

you ride him harder, chasing your release, and with one final thrust, you come undone. your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, and you cry out his name, your entire body trembling with pleasure. he follows right behind you, his grip on your hips almost bruising as he comes deep inside you.

you collapse against his chest, both of you panting and sweaty but thoroughly satisfied. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you both come down from your high.

"you’re perfect," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "i really needed that."

you smile, nuzzling into his neck. "anytime, chan. i’m always here for you."

he chuckles, tightening his hold on you. "i know. and i love you for it."

"i love you too," you reply, your heart swelling with affection.

you stay like that for a while, just holding each other and basking in the afterglow. eventually, you both reluctantly get up, knowing that the work still needs to be done. but now, with the stress melted away and the bond between you even stronger, it doesn't seem quite so daunting.

as you help him tidy up the studio, he looks at you with a grateful smile. "i don't know what I'd do without you, babe."

you grin, leaning in to kiss him one last time. "luckily, you'll never have to find out."

[dabisqueen]

trick or treat

Trick or Treat

Ghost/Dabi x fem!Reader x Konig/Shigaraki

⇢ word count: roughly 3.2K ⇢ plot: It's Halloween and you make the mistake of knocking at the wrong door.  ⇢ warnings: Minors DNI, tw smoking, consensual rough sex, rough kissing, rough manhandling, a bit of degradation, slapping, oral sex (m receiving), deep throating, cum in throat, unprotected PIV-sex, anal fingering, deep creampie, Ghost and Konig aka Dabi and Shiggy are actual sweethearts and take care of the reader later ⇢ A huge shoutout to my beta @blankexpressions-and-falsefires. without you, this wouldn't happen. without you, this wouldn't be as great. i am forever grateful for your help!

You and your friends were on your way to a Halloween party, which was going to take place in an old warehouse. The invites had been distributed months ago already, and everyone had been looking forward to it. 

What you were wearing wasn't very unique at all: Black high-heel boots combined with a short, ruffled red velvet skirt, a black petticoat underneath, and a matching red underbust corset. It pushed your boobs up so high that they nearly popped out any time you bent over. Thankfully, a white, off-shoulder blouse helped to keep a little bit of your decency intact. The last finishing touch was a red velvet cape. 

You guessed it—you'd picked the Little Red Riding Hood as this year's costume.

Getting off the subway station, your group walked down the dimly lit street, the wind blowing leaves and scraps of garbage along the street. The clacking sound of your high heels echoed off the walls and you wrapped your cape tighter around you and hoped that the warehouse would offer some shelter from the cold. Trying to avoid the cracks in the concrete with your pointy heels, you followed the rest of the crowd—as something off to the side caught your attention. 

A lone, lit pumpkin sat at a shabby door, a flickering lamp above it shedding just a bit of light.

“Hey girls!” you called out. “There's someone inviting trick-or-treaters over here!”

Your friends stopped and looked at the door you were pointing at. Nonetheless, they turned while your best friend called over “It's just a prank, forget about it!”

“I want some candy, though.” Pursing your lips into a pout, you stalked over to the other side of the street, calling over to the rest of your small crowd, “Go on ahead. I'll catch up to you later!” 

You didn't mind them rolling their eyes at you—cause you have been known to have the sweetest tooth of them after all.

Taking a deep breath you raised your hand and knocked on the door. Once. Twice.

No answer. 

Okay, you reason, it was just a prank. Just as you were about to turn, you heard voices closing in behind the door.

"Didn't think anyone would fall for this shit.” A dark voice hissed. “What kind of dumbass are they?"

"Beats me." Another husky voice spoke.

The door swung open and you inhaled sharply. Before you stood two men dressed head to toe in combat suits, one of them wearing a sniper hood, the other a Balaclava complete with a hard plastic skull attached to the disguise. 

Each of them was a character from the game Call of Duty– Konig and Simon “Ghost” Riley. 

The one dressed as Ghost casually leaned against the door frame. His eyes scanned over you, and your gut tightened, watching the brilliant cerulean of his irises take you in. His skull Balaclava, obscuring any other feature on his face, sent chills down your spine. The other's smoldering amber gaze grazed the curves of your body and lingered especially long on your décolleté before stopping back at your face. As far as you could make out, they both looked well-toned, and your gut instinct told you that they were stunningly attractive underneath those masks. Your heart started beating faster.

“Oh, look what we have here.” The man dressed as Konig mused in a sneering tone. “If it ain't Little Red Riding Hood.”

“What a coincidence—" his friend chuckled, his voice low and husky. "Cause you can consider us the Big Bad Wolves—”

It sent goosebumps crawling up your spine,  but you still bravely muttered with a shaky voice, “T-trick or t-treat?”

Konig and Ghost looked at one another, chuckling, before their gazes went back to you. 

"You really looking for a treat, little red?" Ghost cocked his head, brilliant blue seemingly burning into you.

Both men's lustful stares were unmistakable as they looked at your body with a desire mirroring the feeling that rose quickly in your chest.

"U-uhm, I guess?" You stuttered, heat rising into your ears now.

“Treat it is,” he said. With that, his strong fingers circled your wrist and he pulled you inside, Konig slamming the door shut behind you.

A shriek left your throat when he pressed you against the wall, his ghostly mask hovering right in front of you.

"You really want this?" He asked, tilting his head, "We'll only proceed if you do."

One hand propped him against the wall, the other trapped your jaw between thumb and forefingers. His hips wedged you in place and it sent a jolt of pleasure right between your thighs. You shamelessly squeezed them together, cheeks starting to glow with fear—and excitement.

"I-I don't know," you licked your lips as subtly as you could, and you could swear you felt him twitch in his pants. 

His eyes fixated on your lips as he pulled the Balaclava down from beneath the skull, tucking the fabric under his chin to reveal the lower half of his face. His lips alone, sharp and sultry, had you aching for more.

"I think you do," Ghost chuckled, his warm breath fanning your lips, the hard plastic of his mask almost brushing against your nose. His fingertips felt scorching yet delicate when he pulled you in for a kiss.

His tongue pushed past your lips, moving languidly around yours. The kiss turned raw and bruising, growing rougher by the second. His cold mask dug into your skin but the thrill of it all made you forgive it easily. Groaning into his mouth, your hands ghosted over his chest, feeling the taut muscles underneath his clothes. Your legs buckled, but Ghost was quick to react and slip a leg between your thighs to hold you in place. His firm thigh pressed right against you, delivering much-needed friction to stimulate your growing desire. 

“Fuck,” he breathed out, half-lidded eyes smoldering with desire when he broke the kiss. He pulled the Balaclava back and straightened up, chuckling at the sight of a wet spot left on his pants. "You really love this, don't you?"

You nodded hazily. You were given no chance to catch your breath as he dragged you to a small, square table nearby. His grip was rough but gentle enough not to hurt you. You shrieked again when Ghost pressed your chest flat against the surface. Konig stepped close, his hand stroking the heavy and full shape of the growing bulge beneath his clothes. Ghost clasped his hand tightly around your wrists, pinning them against your back, holding you down. 

“P-please be gentle,” you pleaded, having seen both outlines of their dicks —not small in size—  strain against their boxers, ready to be strangled by your tight pussy.

"Don't be a chicken. You agreed to this.” Konig rasped. “So, we get to destroy you, corrupt your little pussy—" 

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, and your heartbeat started to pick up as you struggled against Ghost's iron grip.

"Aw, don't scare our little bunny, Shigaraki" Ghost tutted, stroking your back with his free hand. "We aren't gonna hurt you, doll."

Something in his voice made you feel like you could trust him — you felt that he meant it — and your body relaxed, your breath evening out.

"Party pooper–" Konig grumbled behind his hood, as he rounded the table to stop right in front of your face. 

"W-what are you gonna do to me–" You swallowed thickly, thrill shooting through your body in a rush of  adrenaline. 

“You want us to be gentle,” his voice suddenly deepened, “Or should we treat you like the little tramp you are?” 

“I am no tramp—” you replied breathily.

“Hm— Am I wrong to think that this turns you on?” Ghost chuckled. “The idea of getting fucked by two strangers just like this?” 

Ghost's hand trailed up your thigh, hiking up your skirt and petticoat to reveal the curves of your perfect ass cheeks. A growl erupted in the back of his throat at the sight, his hand stroking the soft skin he found there. The coil inside your stomach tightened as you felt his crotch grind against you from behind. You realized he was giving you a small taste of just how much of a treat you would be getting. Trying to push yourself back against his thick meat, though, earned you a harsh slap against your ass with his tactical leather gloves.

“Ow!” you cried out, the stinging pain driving tears to your eyes.

"Fucking lay still." Ghost growled and you instantly froze at the sheer authority in his tone, a hot pulse shooting straight between your legs.

He leaned over, whispering against the shell of your ear. "So, little Red, what's it gonna be for you?”

Your lips parted in a strangled whimper. You didn’t want them to be gentle. You didn’t want them to be respectful. This was thrilling, you've always dreamed about being roughly taken, about being manhandled. 

“Fuck me, please.” You pleaded.

“It's Sir to you!” Ghost slapped you again, the pain searing this time.

"Yes—Sir—treat me like your cumdump!” You choked out, tears spilling from the corner of your eyes.

"Atta girl." He purred and you could almost hear the amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

Ghost pulled your soaked panties down until they dangled between your ankles and dropped to the floor with a wiggle of your heels.

"Why do you always get to use the pussy, Dabi?" Konig whined, annoyed even as he unzipped his combat pants.

"Cause you only know how to fuck, boss." Ghost chuckled behind you. "Not how to please."

You swallowed thickly, feeling your heart beating so fast.

His hand gently stroked your ass again as he hummed. "This is supposed to be a treat after all."

A sense of comfort washed through you but you knew better than to rely on it. And oh boy, were you right.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded, moving to stand in between them as you eagerly complied.

Konig freed his hard cock from his pants. It was so thick and heavy that it was hanging low even though it was fully erect. 

"Open up. I’m gonna fuck your face," giving it a few lazy pumps, he closed in on your face. His shameful words sent electricity to your nerves, and your mouth started to water as you opened it in eager anticipation.

Konig slipped the fingers of his free hand into your strands, holding your head still as he slotted himself at your lips before pushing his length between them. His spongy tip quickly slipped in and he let it rest on your tongue for a brief moment before pressing deeper.

Groaning against Konig's cock, you barely made out the sound of a zipper being undone behind you. Ghost lined up his cock with your soaked cunt, gathering your slick on his spongy tip, and only then was it that you knew that this really was going to happen. He snapped his hips forward without warning, quickly hitting resistance. 

The force pushed you down on Konig’s length further until its tip hit the back of your throat. He was breathing hard, bucking his hips forward, loving the way you loosened your jaw and let him fuck your mouth.

The man behind you slowly started thrusting into you, the metal barbells of his Jacob’s Ladder continuously stroking your insides, his Prince Albert piercing kissing your cervix and making you tighten and flutter around him. Each time he pulled out, his cock was covered in more of your glistening juices.

“Ah—fuck—look at that dripping cunt—” Ghost growled, rocking his hips against your behind, watching how your greedy, sloppy pussy kept taking him, even if he could only fit halfway.

They filled you up so perfectly—Ghost’s thick, pierced cock stretched your whole pussy without getting close to being balls deep, Konig’s heavy one sitting deep in your mouth, his fat testicles slapping against your drool-covered chin with each thrust forward. A gargled moan bubbled up your throat, feeling so stuffed from both ends, with Ghost's piercings rubbing perfectly against the spot that made stars erupt before your eyes.  

Goosebumps erupted all over your body as your mind began to swim.

"Aw, are you enjoying yourself?” Ghost leaned forward. "We'll make you feel even better soon...”

Then he started pounding into you, again and again until your brain was shut down. You choked between gasps as every thrust he made knocked the air from your lungs and forced Konig’s cock to slide deeper than before– until it was buried deep down your throat. You struggled to take it, breathing heavily through your nose, pleading watery eyes shooting up to his face to silently beg for a second of reprieve. 

"You look so beautiful, stuffed with my cock like this–” Ghost said in a voice that was just a low rasp. 

You were dizzy, breathless as he kept filling up your pussy with short, harsh strokes. He watched you writhe in pleasure on the table, your sloppy mouth stuffed with Konig’s dick. Ghost bent his head down and you could feel his breath on your neck as he inhaled your scent. 

"You're taking both of us so well, little cockslut." Konig's words made you whimper even louder, glistening eyes meeting his as you struggled to breathe.

With Ghost’s hand still pinning your wrists behind your back, there was no escaping the assault. He slammed his hips harder against your pussy until you mewled out in pleasure, his piercings rubbing your g-spot just right.

The feeling of both men relentlessly working themselves in and out of you was overwhelming. Heavy grunts and growls accompanied the wet sounds of your sloppy holes getting fucked as they worked themselves into a frenzy. Ghost's cock drove deep, but you knew with a little effort, you could accommodate more of him. You parted your legs further to give Ghost even more access to your cunt. His dick began to throb and twitch, his hips bucking back and forth to find the perfect angle to thrust into you. 

And he did find it. Your body shook with pleasure, making you squeal deliciously around Konig's length. Ghost let out a breathless chuckle and spread your ass cheeks, wetting his thumb before sticking it into your puckered hole.

His friend watched the scene before him, half-lidded crimson eyes glazed with lust and desire. The sight before him turned him on so much that his hips stuttered and he came without warning. He let out a strangled groan, his hand grabbing your hair tightly as he forced you to take his entire length, his tip slipping past the back of your throat. You moaned, feeling him twitch on your tongue, spilling his hot seed deep inside of you. His free hand rose to massage your throat, savoring the way you gulped and swallowed around his twitching meat.

“That's it, baby, take every drop of his cum," Ghost praises you. "Fuck– you're such a good girl.” He looked down to where you two were connected, his thumb buried deep in your ass, a sticky wet mess covering the base of his cock.

You tried to breathe but Konig didn’t budge, staying buried deep inside of you as Ghost picked up the pace now. He gave you strong thrusts that grazed the right spot, making your eyes roll back in pleasure. You moaned, your vision turning blurry. The lack of oxygen, the continuous onslaught from behind— it was too much. it pushed you over the edge and you came, clamping around his dick while your sounds of pleasure remained muffled by Konig's cock still buried deep inside your throat. 

Ghost kept pounding into you while you rode out the high of your orgasm and finally, Konig pulled his softening cock from your mouth, letting you sputter and gasp for the air he'd denied you. He let himself fall back against the table behind him, his flaccid, drool-covered cock still massive in size and twitching slightly. Reaching out, he pushed your hair behind your ear before wiping off the saliva dribbling down your chin as you frantically gasped for air.

Ghost behind you kept up the pace, rutting his thumb in and out of your little pink hole in a contrasting beat to his thrusts. It became too much— you completely lost it, overstimulated and moaning unabashedly like a porn star now. Your cunt spasmed around his cock for a second time and you threw your head back in ecstasy, crying out through your climax.

“There you go, you're so fucking hot coming for us, doll." Ghost praised, continuing to rock his hips against yours. His deep thrusts grew messier and messier, being himself close to his release. 

Konig watched, eyes glowing with re-awakening desire as he tucked himself away.

"I'm gonna fucking cum inside of you." Ghost let out with a low growl in his throat, sending goosebumps along your body. “Gonna fill you up, gonna breed you so good—”

He gained speed and with a final snap of his hips, he groaned out loud when he came, his hips stuttering as he shot ropes of hot cum against your womb. You could feel his cock throb with each shot, before he plummeted forward, breathing heavily. His chest pressed against your spine, and you felt his semen seep out, dripping onto the floor below. Silence took over the room while all of you tried catching your breath, hair sticking to sweaty foreheads, cocks sticky with release. 

Ghost started chuckling, pulling out of you with an obscene pop. His eyes were still glazed with desire as he watched how your pussy struggled to contain the load of his release. "You look so damn pretty filled up with my cum." he said with a hidden smirk as he kept pushing it back into you with his fingers. 

He stepped back to tuck himself away, and you stood back up on wobbly feet, brain foggy from the orgasms. Carding your fingers through your messed up hair, you reached for your panties but Ghost was quick to grab and stuff them into his pant pocket.

"Nu-uh," he tutted, his brilliant azure eyes twinkling with mischief. You sighed in defeat, trying your best to smooth down your skirt.

He pulled his balaclava down, slid his hand into his pocket to retrieve a pack of cigarettes, and lit himself one. Taking a deep drag, he exhaled slowly. “So, what were you doing here anyway?”

“I was on my way to a Halloween party with my friends.” You coyly replied, carding your fingers through your hair. 

“Ya still wanna go?” He cocked his head, smoldering azures taking you in.

“What do you mean?" You looked up at him through thick lashes, still damp with the heavy tears that had sprung from your eyes in the struggle to keep down Konig’s cock.

“What Dabi wants to know is if you wouldn't rather continue our little party.” Konig snickered.

“Oh.” Was your simple reply. 

“C’mon doll, let's get ya cleaned up," Ghost pressed a kiss against your forehead. "In the meantime, Shigaraki is gonna get us some  drinks.” 

He swung an arm around your shoulder, leading you toward the door next to the dimly lit bar on the far side of the room. “We still have more treats for you…”

Happy Halloween and thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! If you comment or reblog, you'll make my day!

[httpsserene]

kinktober '23 table of contents

welcome to serene's f1 kinktober special! i do not know how many posts i will be doing for this event, but, reblog and save this masterlist for any updates concerning my f1 kinktober.

posts will be tagged with: # httpss :// kinktober 23 | status: completed.

view playlist? ↴

upload 1 : charles leclerc / max verstappen x reader | corruption kink

innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things.

upload 2 : carlos sainz jr x reader | were/wolf shifter & predator/prey

for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first.

upload 3 : oscar piastri x reader | car sex & squirting

your boyfriend has to make an appearance at some sponsor event. he's gone ahead and bought you an alluring outfit, but he failed to mention how seductive he looks in the new fitted suit his team got him. you two won't be staying long, but you increase the pace by riling him up, mostly unintentionally. so it's your fault that he makes you ruin his loaned mclaren.

upload 4 : daniel ricciardo / max verstappen x reader | overstimulation

you can't remember the last time you've gotten to spend more than three days at a time with both of your boyfriends. you understand how demanding their job is but, you just can't remember the last time they really exhausted you...pleasurably. and then winter break comes around, and they have all the time they need to make you lose your mind.

upload 5 : lewis hamilton x reader | tender sex & cockwarming

your husband comes home to his monaco apartment after achieving p2 in spain. from the texts you sent him before he boarded his flight, he expected you to be awake when he arrived. however, you’ve fallen asleep–but that’s not a problem. he’ll sneak into bed right next to you and catch a few extra hours of sleep. you’ll commemorate the podium come morning.

upload 6 : george russell x reader | vampire & hickeys/biting

george has created a serious problem. you two have been dating for over three years, and he fed from you the first time about three months ago. the problem lies within the fact that he conditioned you to orgasm every time he used you as his glorified high-class wine bottle. on second thought, that’s a pretty good problem to have; his thirst is sated, and yours is as well.

upload 7 : pierre gasly x reader | witchcraft

witch!reader and potions master!pierre run a shop to fulfill anyone’s magical needs. it’s nearing valentine’s day, and the shop is bombarded with desperate humans looking for love charms & potions, even though there’s no magic spell strong enough to replicate true love. oddly, news travels from a few villages over that there’s a potions master who managed to make a real love potion. pierre has to get his hands on it—for the bit, obviously. there’s no way it will work.

upload 8 : lando norris x reader | pussy worship

if lando achieved a podium at silverstone, you promised you’d give him anything he wants. he thinks about it the whole race weekend, and when the two of you are celebrating his second-place finish, he tells you that he wants to take care of you. you’re disbelieving–he takes care of you every waking hour. lando, on the other hand, said that with his chest. and he’ll prove it to you.

upload 9 : charles leclerc x reader | orgasm delay/denial

the 2023 season has had a despicable effect on charles’ self-worth. it pains you to see how he attributes ferrari’s failure to deliver to himself. you can’t stand to see him berate himself for things that are out of his control. when the emilia-romagna grand prix is understandably canceled, you start forming a plan. if charles doesn’t believe he’s as good as you say he is, you’ll make him internalize it–using any means necessary.

upload 10 : yuki tsunoda x reader | ab-riding/frottage

your mental state is suffering–you’re not sure if you can handle alphatauri posting another thirst trap of your boyfriend to disguise their inability to build a car that doesn’t break within the first ten laps. but, when yuki posts his own half-naked picture on main? he’s asking for it, at this point. clearly, he’s been spending too much time with pierre.

© httpsserene 2023