#Y/N SNAPPED and said TORTURE

[cissa-calls]

Countdown to Coven of Chaos: Day 586

Wanda: “Where’s Agatha? She said we would watch a scary movie to celebrate Friday the 13th”

Y/N: “Maybe she got caught up with a ghost! Or a ghoul? Or a banshee shrieking about tragedy soon to come?! IS IT HER MOTHER???”

Wanda: “Sweetie, I think you’re getting too wrapped up in the spirit of the night. She’s probably just-“

Agatha, leaping from the shadows: “-LAMENTING EVANORA’S REVENGE”

Wanda and Y/N: *shrieking in terror*

Agatha: “Oooo did I scare ya?? I must have gotten you GOOD”

Wanda: “Agatha?! Why-“

Y/N: “-let me handle this one Wands.” *walks up to Agatha and leans in real close* “if you step outta line one more time Harkness, I will scratch your Stevie Nicks vinyl”

Agatha: “NO”

[pellucid-constellations]

If You Cared to Ask

Azriel hasn't been listening. You got hurt. Sometimes, an argument can't be boiled down to just one instance.

Part 2

“You never listen! I have tried over and over to get you to understand but it’s like you don’t even care.”

Azriel’s brow twitched in irritation, the only tell on his otherwise passive face. “That is not true. We have sat down and discussed this at length, y/n. I listen.” 

You laughed, an incredulous pressure weighing down your shoulders. “Okay, fine. You listen, but you never hear me, Azriel! I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall most of the time.” 

“I can reiterate every word you’ve ever said to me. I hear you and I listen to you.” 

Anger twisted through your gut at his nonchalance. You clenched and unclenched your fists and tried to ignore the heat slowly encroaching upon your ability to remain composed. Although, compared to Azriel, you were not even close to the picture of calm. 

“Tell me why it bothers me then,” you seethed through clenched teeth. “Reiterate it for me, Shadowsinger.” 

Azriel’s jaw shifted as he clasped his hands together in his lap, the faelight in the kitchen clashing harshly with the planes of his face. He leaned back in his chair and let out a tortured sigh that almost sent you reeling. 

“You seem to believe,” Azriel began, his voice a low drawl. “That I am blatantly avoiding you—that I am choosing to serve my high lord in place of spending time with you. Both of which, I am not doing. I simply have a duty to this court, y/n. You know that.” 

“Oh, fuck you, Azriel,” you rolled your eyes. “Making this about duty and honor. Making me seem like I’m the crazy one for being angry when you promised me—” 

“You know there is little I can do about promises,” Azriel snapped, a hint of anger finally showing through in the darkness of his eyes. “You knew when we were mated that I have responsibilities that go beyond our relationship.” 

You pushed back from your seat at the table and set to pacing in the kitchen, fighting the urge to tug at the roots of your hair. “Yes, obviously, Azriel, but this was so important to me. I needed you there and this isn’t the first time I’ve been abandoned without even a word.” 

“Abandoned,” Azriel scoffed. “I would hardly call not showing up to your clinic at the camps one day abandoning you. Rhys needed me to—” 

“I needed you!” you shouted, your hands pressed to the countertops and your gaze frantic as you stared at Azriel’s unmoving figure. “I needed you, Azriel. I had every eye on me in that camp and when Devlon’s men had me yanked from the clinic for what I was doing I needed you to—” 

“He did what?” 

“Oh, don’t act like you care now.” You waved off the staunch posture he had adopted and rolled your eyes for a second time at the piercing hatred that had taken over his expression. “Don’t you dare act like you have the right.” 

“You are my mate, y/n. If anyone put their hands on you—” 

“Well, they did. Bruised up my arms and everything. But you were so busy with your duty to your high lord that you couldn’t give a shit until after I was thrown into the mud surrounded by the women I was supposed to be helping up there.” 

Azriel’s hands turned white as he clenched them in his lap. His lashes fluttered and his brow furrowed and he looked utterly lost at the situation—unable to formulate any kind of response to what could be considered his failure. 

“I thought you were simply setting up the back rooms. I didn’t know you were starting the practice or speaking to the camp,” he croaked, eyes downcast and searching the floor. 

“Except I told you I was. I told you two weeks ago and then again right before I left.” 

“I—I can’t remember you saying that.” 

“Of course you can’t. Because if it isn’t Rhys giving you orders or Cassian leading training you’re absent. You stand right in front of me and you’re not even here.”

Azriel finally looked up from the ground and met your eyes with the same torture his sigh made you privy to earlier. But this time it was rooted in something else—this time, he seemed to finally grasp the weight behind your words. 

But you were utterly sick of trying to get him to this point. “I’m so sorry, my love,” he expressed, pain in the furrow of his brow. “I hadn’t realized—with Rhys just returning to Velaris I’ve been so caught up in—” 

“I’m sorry too,” you cut him off. 

Azriel froze. “What?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek and felt the dread begin to rise. You knew you were going to hate this part, but you hadn’t expected Azriel to apologize. He hadn’t apologized for anything in months. You’d been alone in this relationship and he chose the day you’d packed your bags to show remorse.

“I can’t do this, Azriel. Not right now.” 

“Can’t do what?” 

The silence in the kitchen was oppressive. Azriel had leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and you were on the other side of the kitchen counter, protected by a barrier you knew you should have put up weeks ago. Your eyes never left his. 

“I can’t do this with you.” 

Azriel breathed in sharply, his eyes widening. “No,” he stressed, heaving up from the chair. “No, y/n, don’t—what do you mean you can’t do this? Explain it to me.” 

Your mate attempted to round the counter and reach for you, but you weren’t going to accept the affection…not when you had been begging for it for months. Not when he was only ready to give it to you now.

You backpeddled until you reached the hall. Azriel didn’t follow, afraid you would take off. 

“I’ve been telling you this was a problem for months now. I thought it was just an adjustment period—I knew that having Rhys back would change things at first and I was okay with that. Your brother returned from hell and you needed to be there to support him. To support your family. 

“But I’m your family, too. And you forgot that. I can’t—I can’t be relying on someone like that right now. I’m doing too much at the camps for you to… forget about me so easily. I can’t keep building you up in my mind just to be disappointed and hurt.” 

Azriel's jaw quivered. 

“Emotionally and physically. I would’ve asked someone else to come to the clinic with me yesterday, but I chose you. And you forgot about me.” 

Azirel looked as if he’d been punched in the stomach, his shoulders caving in with his anguished breath out. You pressed your lips together as you watched him, all of your anger morphing into a twisted sort of guilt that didn’t sit right in your gut. 

“Please,” Azriel whispered. His hands shook at his side. “Please, I’m so sorry, my love. I never wanted—Please, don’t leave me.” 

“You don’t get to have both, Azriel.” Your voice was as weak as his. “You don’t get to have me and treat me like I’m something you deal with on the side. I matter more than— 

Azriel shook his head and broke through your words. “You matter more than anything. I’ve been a fool. I know I’m an ass. Please, let me fix this, my love. Please don’t leave.” 

You clenched your fists so hard your nails embedded into your palms. 

“I need time to be alone.” 

Azriel was quick to nod. “I’ll give it to you. I’ll leave and—” 

“No, I need… more time than that. I have some things packed. I’ll be back, but… I need to leave. I can’t think clearly around you.” 

A choked cry left Azriel’s throat and the sound burned at your waterline. “Where?” 

You only shook your head. 

“Tell me where. Please. How am I supposed to know you’re safe?” 

“How were you supposed to know before?” 

Part 2

[raekensluver]

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟶𝟶𝟷 — ᴘʀᴀɪsᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ

kinktober day 001 | spencer reid x fem!reader

contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, creampie, praise kink, porn without plot.

word count: 700+

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

spencer's hands gripped your hips, guiding you into a rhythm that felt like a dance you'd practiced for years. every thrust was met with a soft gasp from your lips, each one a silent plea for more. "you're so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. the words were a caress, a warm embrace that filled you with a pride that was almost too much to handle. your chest swelled with each compliment, and you felt yourself getting wetter, your body eager to hear his praise.

"you're so eager for me," he teased, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. the way he spoke to you was a dance of power and submission, a delicate balance that had you panting with need. his thumb traced circles on your clit, and you bucked your hips against him, seeking relief from the ache that was building. "you want it, don't you?" he asked, his tone playful but edged with dominance. "tell me."

you looked into his eyes, your own burning with lust and need. "yes," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "i want it, spencer." the words were like a confession, a declaration that you were his to take. and he took it, his smile growing wider as he thrust into you with more force, his thumb pressing down harder on your sensitive nub. your body responded immediately, the pressure building until you thought you might break apart.

"good girl," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. the praise sent a bolt of electricity through your body, making you arch your back and moan. you leaned into his touch, craving the way he made you feel so cherished. his praise was a drug, and you were eager for your next hit. "you're taking me so well," he whispered, and you bit your bottom lip, your eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before snapping open to meet his gaze again. the power in those two simple words was undeniable, a command that turned you into putty in his hands.

with every stroke, spencer's eyes seemed to devour you, as if he couldn't believe how lucky he was to be inside of you. "so wet for me," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. his thumb found your clit again, and he began to rub it in a slow, deliberate circle. the pressure built and grew, your breath coming in gasps that matched the rhythm of his thrusts. "you're so responsive," he said, his voice filled with wonder. "it's like you were made for me."

his praise was a symphony that played in your head, each note striking a chord of pleasure that resonated deep within you. you felt your orgasm approaching like a crescendo, and your muscles tightened around him as you neared the peak. "spencer," you gasped, his name a plea that seemed to hang in the air. his eyes darkened, and his grip on your hips tightened as he drove into you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

his thumb never ceased its torturous dance on your clit, and his cock filled you completely, hitting just the right spot with every stroke. "are you going to cum for me, baby?" he cooed, his voice a sweet temptation that made your core clench with anticipation. you nodded, unable to form coherent words, your eyes locked on his as if he was your lifeline in the tumultuous sea of pleasure.

and then it happened. your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, a powerful force that had you screaming his name. your body tightened around him, your nails digging into his back as spasms of pure bliss ripped through you. spencer watched with awe as your face contorted in ecstasy, his eyes never leaving yours. "good girl," he murmured, his praise a gentle caress that only amplified the intensity of your climax. "you're so perfect, so beautiful when you cum."

his own release followed shortly after, his cock pulsing inside of you as he reached his peak. with a groan, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. the taste of victory washed over him as he filled you up, his body trembling with the effort. for a moment, the world seemed to stop, the only sounds in the room the frantic beat of your hearts and the soft, satisfied sighs that escaped your lips.

kintober taglist: @multi-fandom-imagine, @imamexican, @majaduzejaja, @moony-artemis, @emma-e-a, @agoodgirlsguidetomakingmencry @indigoangel77, @froyofreya, @weirdothatwritess

[talaok]

What's a fanfiction?

"You wrote it, I think it's only right you get to experience it, babydoll"

Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: By mistake, you send Joel, your neighbor, your dad’s best friend, a fanfic you wrote, and when you go to his house to talk to him about it, your worst fear comes to life… and then your biggest dream.

Warnings: age-gap, he blackmails you (but youre very much into it) smut| oral sex (m receiving), facefucking, 1 lil threat of anal, p in v sex, creampie, sir kink, small little breeding kink moment, so much degradation, and a lil bit of praising.

a/n: i am aware this is not written very well, but i was thinking too much and then i remembered that at the end of the day i do this for fun and its not that serious, so please overlook all the shitty parts. love ya very much<3

Read.

Read-

He read it. He fucking read it and you're gonna jump off a cliff and die.

You swore- you fucking swore you sent it to Miley yesterday night. Right before you went to sleep, you finished writing it and sent to her- except obviously, that wasn't what had fucking happened.

You'd sent it to him

And now you needed to find a fucking solution.

__ __ __

God even knocking felt like torture,

"oh hi y/n" Sarah's smile was nothing like her dad's, it was all kindness and sweetness, while Joel's... well Joel's always had something strange lurking behind his.

"Hi Sarah" you forced your lips to mimic hers, although the nerves were making it difficult "Is your dad home? I kinda need to talk to him"

"mh-mh" she nodded, gesturing for you to come in "he's in his study upstairs"

You stepped into the house just as she crouched down to pick up a gym bag

"You know where that is right?" she asked "I'm late for practice, I gotta go"

You felt your heart drop as her words sank in.

She was going out- she would be leaving you alone with him, in his house, in his study-

But then again, considering what it was you were here to talk about, maybe it was for the best.

"Yeah, don't worry" you forced another smile

"great" she beamed "see you later then"

And just like that, she was out of the house, and you were sole in the middle of your neighbor's entrance.

__ __ __

Again, another knock that felt very much like a punch to the gut

"come in"

His voice was warm and strong like it always was, that same voice that made your panties dampen just at the thought of it.

"H-hey Mr. Miller" you swallowed thickly, pushing open the door as if an army of zombies waited on the other side

"Darlin'" he nodded at you from behind his wooden desk, a hint of a grin shadowing his lips

Darlin'

Darlin'

God this fucking man

"h-hey" you said again, cursing internally while you tried remembering why you were even there.

Oh, right. Just about the most awkward thing ever.

A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest, making the hair at the nape of your neck stand.

"Whatcha doing here, doll?"

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, and then you felt your eyes fall to the floor as your hands fiddled with the edge of your skirt.

The skirt you purposely wore to come here- for him-

god what a stupid fucking-

"Thatta real pretty skirt you got on"

Your eyes snapped up to him, but he took his time glancing away from your legs.

"Oh- I- thank you" you murmured

"Jus' call 'em like I see 'em, darlin'" he shrugged, leaning back into his chair "Now's that all you came here for? To show me your new pretty skirt?"

"n-no" you rushed in to say, perhaps too quickly to be fully believable "I came here because I- uhm" You bit your bottom lip, the nervous fiddling starting back up again

"I ain't gonna bite babydoll"

Fuck- at this rate your panties would start melting.

"last night-" you gulped "I kinda- I... well I sent you something by mistake"

"ah" he hummed, raising his brows as he clicked on something on the laptop next to him "I gotta say, issa real... interesting story this one"

No-

NO

Fuck my life and everything ever in the existence of the universe fuckfuckfuck-

"who's..." he trailed off, reading off his screen "Javier?"

Your lungs had turned to stone and your mind to dust.

This couldn't be really happening, no, I mean, even if he'd read it for some reason he surely wouldn't be... taunting you for it.

"Mr. Miller-"

"real lucky guy" he said, his lips twitching into a soft smirk as he looked at you curiously "You brought him home to meet your daddy yet?"

"n-no" you stuttered, your mind a big ashamed mess and your whole body frozen like a statue "n-no he's not... real"

You watched his brows come together in confusion.

"what's that mean he ain't real?"

A shaky sigh fled your lips as you surrendered to your fate

"He's a character... f-from a tv show"

He remained silent, and as comfortable with silence as you were it was a different kind of story when Joel Miller was staring at you... so you talked again.

"T-that's a fanfiction, I- I write them sometimes, it's... fun"

His eyes searched yours for answers, faint amusement sparking in the back of his irises.

"what's a fanfiction, doll?"

Death wasn't such a scary thing after all- yeah it sure as hell was a better alternative to this.

"It's a... made-up story, that people- that I- sometimes write about fictional characters I like- a-and then I post it for p-people to read"

"And this Javier..."

"Narcos" you blurted out "H-he's from the show Narcos, he's not real"

His mouth twitched into a subtle smile, his eyes raking all over your body as if he was checking to see if it was really you in front of him

"I've seen that show" he said, his brow raising "Ain't he a bit old for you, babydoll?"

"Y-yes well- I-I-"

But you had no excuse for that, you could never tell him the truth, about how much you liked older men... about all the celebrity crushes double your age- so you just bit your lip, looking down at the floor.

The noise of his chair creaking as he got up made your heart skip a beat, but it stopped completely only when you heard him step closer to you... until he was right before you.

The only thing you could see were the socks covering his feet, and part of his black jeans- you didn't have it in you to actually look at him, to see him laughing at you, but you had no other choice when two of his fingers pulled your chin up.

"so you sit in your room, imagining this old man doin' all this stuff to you, and then you write it down?" he spoke, his beautiful mouth so very close to you "And here I was thinkin' you were a good little girl"

Your breath caught in your throat at those words, and he... yeah he definitely noticed.

"Please don't tell my dad"

"well I don't know" he moved some hair from your face, "I think this is somethin' your daddy ought to know"

a well of fear dipped into your belly, your eyes widening

"n-no please" you begged "Please Mr. Miller don't, I'll do anything- anything at all"

"oh sweetie" he cooed, "that ain't somethin' you can tell a man, especially not after he's read all the dirty things you fantasize about in your pretty little head"

"Mr Miller-" you bit your lip

"Mr Miller?" he repeated, looking down at you like you were the smallest little creature in the world "That ain't what you were calling Javi now, was it?"

A small, almost imperceptible gasp left your mouth.

He couldn't be saying... no right?- except...

"Joel-"

"that ain't it either" he shook his head, his thumb tracing the shape of your lower lip "you know what it is babygirl"

Either you were gonna make a fool of yourself, or this really was what he wanted.

"S-sir"

The slightest, most feline smirk pulled at his lips in satisfaction "thatta girl" he murmured "you don't want your dad to know what a dirty lil' girl his daughter really is?"

His breath was fanning on your mouth, and his touch was making your legs turn to jelly.

"n-no" you shook your head almost imperceptibly

"no?" he asked again, just to see you squirm, just to savor this moment for a little bit more.

"no sir"

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat, his eyes looking into yours, memorizing every inch of your face, of the anxiety, the ardor, the plead in your expression.

"then get on your knees"

Your eyes widened in shock, the air going up your throat suddenly getting stuck

"w-wha-"

"what?" he asked, not even sounding like himself anymore. His tone was sweet, calm even, but something almost dire lurked underneath his words.

"you seemed eager to do it when Javi asked" he tilted his head, his fingers still holding your chin.

If you didn't know better you would have guessed it was jealousy that traced his tone whenever he spoke the name of your fantasies's protagonist... little did he know the main reason why you even liked Javier was his resemblance to him- to Joel.

"Mr- sir" you stuttered "I-"

"I don't like to repeat myself y/n" he spoke sternly, his eyes boring into yours "Do you want your daddy to know or not?"

You didn't need to answer, you only held his stare as he let your face go, and you slowly, unsurely, and awkwardly got to your knees.

"wasn't so hard now was it?" he asked, his eyes dark enough to fade into the night sky "what are you waiting for?"

"I-"

"You need instructions babydoll?" he chuckled "'cause I ain't gonna give 'em to ya" he said while your heart pounded in your chest "I know you know how to do it" he smirked "Described it so well in your little fanfiction"

"b-but I-" you tried to take a deep breath but doing anything while he towered over you, while his crotch was right in your line of sight was proving to be very very difficult "I've only ever done this once" you gulped, trying to keep eye contact

"yeah?" he smiled, his hand going to the top of your head, gently patting it...that really shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did. "then how come you knew exactly what to do with Javi? don't tell me you just guessed"

He either didn't believe you, or was really not expecting that. But it was the truth- you'd only ever done anything once... and it's not like it had even felt that great.

"Well, I- I do research... and I- I read a lot"

If you thought he looked predatorial before... you had no idea how bad it could really get.

"research huh?" he mocked, his voice as deep as it could get "Oh baby you're digging yourself a hole here" he tsked, shaking his head while looking almost disappointed "I really think your daddy ought to know about all the research his lil' girl's doing under his roof"

"No!" you begged, your bottom lip trembling.

"No?" he asked, tracing it with his thumb "Then I suggest you make it good, babygirl"

And that was that.

Your trembling hands undid his belt, then lowered his zipper, and finally pulled his pants down until they pooled at his feet.

Fuck

He was huge- even with the boxers still on it was very clear the man was just massive-

"I don't like to be teased y/n"

"s-sorry sir" you responded automatically, noticing his cock twitch within the confines of the fabric in appreciation of your obedience.

You had to do it slowly, you had to pull his boxers down slowly so you could have time to calm down, to not panic in front of the huge cock that was gonna be right in front of you at any moment-

And yet it didn't work- a soft gasp fled your mouth as you freed his manhood.

He only chuckled, watching the fear in your eyes, and quite frankly, very much enjoying it.

"I'll tell ya if you're doing it wrong" he simply spoke, his hand going to the back of your head to guide you closer to where he wanted you.

He was getting impatient. And you didn't want to disappoint him.

Yes, he was blackmailing you, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been dreaming of this for years.

You looked like a frightened kid as you wrapped your right hand around him, and you looked even more out of place as you opened your mouth and started fitting his length inside of it.

A weak grunt rumbled from his chest "Hollow your cheeks" he ordered, having you obey in a heartbeat.

"fuck that's good" he groaned now, watching you intently as you started bobbing your head, trying to fit more of him into your mouth "Good little slut"

You didn't know a moan was gonna flee your mouth until it had- until your whole face felt hot and you waited terrified for Joel's reaction.

Exect he was smiling- no- grinning like you'd just given him the best gift he'd ever received.

"Oh, you're really something else ain't ya, darlin'?"

"mhp" Your muffled noises were all the more entertaining to him, especially paired up with the sight of your thighs rubbing together.

You were so fucking wet you feared at any moment you would start dripping onto the floor.

"so needy" he murmured, his hand now gathering your hair in a makeshift bun "You wanna touch yourself, baby girl? wanna feel good while you make me feel good?"

"mh-mh" you tried to nod, to beg, to say yes please for the love of god let me.

"that's too bad" he tutted, sounding like he was holding back a laugh "Javi didn't let you do that now, did he?" he smirked "You wrote it, I think it's only right you get to experience it, babydoll"

But before you had time to ask yourself if he meant all of it, he'd spoken again.

"that all you can take?" he asked, watching the first half of his cock in your mouth with amusement "Here- how 'bout I help you out darlin'" he smirked, his hips retracting just to thrust into your mouth-

It wasn't a hard jab, but still you choked, and then you choked some more as he did it again, watching you fit more of him into your mouth as saliva drooled to your chin and your eyes watered.

You could feel the texture of every inch of his dick with your tongue, the feel of his veins, and the taste of his precum were all you were aware of.

"like that- see, jus' needed a lil' help" he groaned "Even a slut like you needs it sometimes"

His pace had quickened, and tears were now streaming down your face.

"shh" he shushed you once you choked yet another time "I know it's big baby" he cooed, his thrust much less gentle than his words, although that was all an act too "I know, I know... but you're gonna have to be a good whore for me and take it aaall into that slutty little throat, ok?" he murmured "just try to breathe through your nose"

What did he mean try?

What if you tried and failed?

But you weren't actually worried- you had never thought being horny could actually be painful, and yet, there you were, literally so wet and turned on it hurt.

You couldn't even see him anymore through all the tears covering your eyes, and you didn't even realize you were actively choking and making a complete mess of yourself, all you could feel was his big fat cock, and dream about how it would feel inside of you.

"God fuckin-" He groaned like an animal as he finally bottomed out, his dick making a permanent dent into your throat at this point "Jesus Christ"

He stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, watching you struggle, and then, just like that, he was out- and you could breathe again.

He didn't even give you time to catch your breath, to finish coughing like a maniac that he'd already given you another order.

"get up," he said "take off your clothes"

He really did want to recreate the fic- you were- you were about to have sex with Joel Miller, THE Joel Miller, your neighbor and dad's best friend Joel Miller.

oh fuck

"What did I say about repeating myself?"

You scrambled to your feet, pulling your shirt off at the same time.

You heard him snort but didn't pay it any mind as you took your bra and skirt off as quickly as you could.

You really were desperate.

But when it came to your panties you slowed, everything suddenly feeling very real.

"what are you waiting for?"

"s-sorry sir" you mumbled, finally dropping them at your feet.

A soft groaned fuck climbed up his throat as he examined every inch of your body.

You would be covering yourself, feeling a little self-conscious, if it wasn't for the fact that his gaze had turned you to stone.

"pick your panties up" he said as if getting out of a trance.

You frowned, confused, but obeyed nonetheless.

Maybe he didn't like the mess...

"Put 'em in the first drawer," he said, nodding back to his desk.

Oh

He followed your every move as you walked past him, but it was only when you were at his desk, that he started stalking towards you.

He was right beside you now, and somewhere along the way he'd lost his shirt, because your back was now pressed against his chest, and your ass was right against something else.

"I'm keepin' those" he murmured, his deep voice right next to your ear, his hands going to grip your waist.

You dropped the panties where he asked and nodded, turning to him, finding his face, his mouth, but an inch from your own.

"Yes sir"

His cock twitched again right against your backside as his mouth ghosted yours.

"Bend over"

You swallowed thickly, doing as he said.

You shivered feeling the table's cold wood meet your skin, but you got hot all over again once you felt Joel's words.

"Spread your legs"

You did.

"What an obedient slut I've turned you into" he grinned, proud of himself

"Where do you want it?"

You felt his cock slide between your cheeks, making you whimper and arch your back.

"here?" he slid it in between your legs, connecting with your clit.

You moaned as you shook your head no

"here?" he asked again, this time his dick prodding at your asshole.

You gasped as you mumbled "N-no sir- please"

"You want in your throat again babydoll, 's that it?" he teased you, his tip still leaving smears of his precum on your hole

"mh-mh" you shook your head no again "Please"

"no?" he snickered, "Then where?"

"Here?" he asked, the tip of his dick finally getting exactly where you wanted him "in your slutty lil' pussy?"

"yes- p-please sir- I-"

"say it" he taunted you, almost slipping in.

"I- I need it"

"what do you need?"

"Y-Your cock sir" you begged

"Where do you need my cock?"

"I-I need it in my pussy" you cried- he was so close if he would just- "I need your cock in my pussy sir, please I- I'm begging you-"

"good little slut"

He pushed in with one singular, hard thrust, making you cry out so loud the whole neighborhood probably heard.

He was so big it kind of burned at first, but as he thrust in again and you heard him groan in pleasure, there was no going back- you were in complete bliss... and your brain had turned to mush.

You were moaning- loudly.

"fuck-" he grunted "you're such a whore darlin'"

The sound of how wet you were as he plunged into your heat was filthy.

"Y'know- I usually give women an orgasm before I fuck 'em," he said as his balls slapped rhythmically against your skin "but you're just a whore- and whores don't deserve to be treated with respect, do ya?" Your back arched, feeding him more of yourself as your walls squeezed around him "Nah, you deserve to be used. Used like the little sluts that you are" he kept grunting, not paying any mind to how loud you were being, or how the desk had started to slip because of how hard his thrusts were "And it ain't like you need it, is it darlin'?" he chuckled, suddenly pulling you up, his right arm around your torso keeping you pinned against him "you're makin' a mess" he murmured into your ear, shivers running up your spine "and besides, this' how you wanted it- wrote it jus' like this in your lil' story didn't ya, ya little slut?"

He bit your earlobe just as his dick hit your cervix, making your brain short-circuit.

It was all so hot- so fucking hot.

"I can't imagine what your daddy would say" his mouth was on your neck now, but his pace was the same as ever, as hard and unapologetic as it could get "knowing what nasty things his little girl likes to think- to write" he chuckled "bet the poor guy would have the fuckin' big one if he knew"

"if he knew how you like to be fucked by men 30 years older than you" he groaned, feeling you squeeze him as you whimpered his name incoherently "if he knew how tight you get when I tell you how much of a slut you are"

Your eyes were rolled back, and your head had dropped against his chest

"please"

"If he knew how good you fuckin' take my cock" he murmured right against your mouth, your legs trembling "How desperate you are for it"

He was going even faster, and he was now supporting your whole body because your legs weren't working anymore.

"If he knew what a fuckin' whore he raised" he grunted, plunging his cock as deep as it could go, molding your body to him "how she's my whore now"

And that was it- that was it.

You felt actual tears stream down your cheeks as bliss took over your body- as you cried and moaned and trembled until you were done, until you'd finally recovered.

"I'm gonna come inside babygirl" It wasn't a question, it was an order, just like every one he'd given you for the past hour "Jus' like Javi" he grunted, his thrusts more erratic now "except this is real life baby- and you better hope it doesn't stick" he smirked, feeling your walls squeeze involuntarily at his words "God you're such a slut"

"Now take it all like a good one"

You couldn't help but join his moaning as he came, as he filled you up to the very brim.

You were a mess- cum was already running down your thighs as he slipped out of you, but you still followed his lead and started dressing again- only your panties were in his drawer and the walk back home would be a real awkward one.

"You post these stories?"

There was no point in lying, you'd already confessed to it.

"I- yes" you swallowed, putting your bra on "o-on Tumblr"

You could very well see he'd never heard of the app

"How are you called on there?"

He'd stepped closer to you, watching you fiddle with your shirt in your hands.

His belt was unbuckled, his jeans still open, and you were starting to feel ready for round two already.

"S-sir you want t-to-”

"I gotta know what other things your daddy can't know about” he murmured, moving a piece of hair from your face “and all the things I’m gonna do to my lil’ slut”

[lovelivision]

CLOTHED?!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 【𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞】 fushiguro toji/reader, geto suguru/reader, gojo satoru/reader, kamo choso/reader

𝐖𝐂: 4.8k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: they all have their own reasons for not undressing completely, just how crazy will they drive you in their pursuit to have you cumming in your clothes?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, dirty talk, teasing, dry humping, thigh riding, cunnilingus, afab!reader, no pronouns or y/n used, pet names used: doll, baby, sweetheart, i think that's all !! <3

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 ★

This all started because he believed something and you didn’t, now you’re sat on him, fully clothed, struggling to comprehend just how your few words worked him up so much to the point that it feels like he’s torturing you over them. A punishment, that you feel, you do not deserve.

All you had said was that you don’t think it’s possible for you to finish fully clothed and he took that as a personal challenge and a slight against his ability to please you, which, you never meant it as.

What you meant doesn’t change the facts of your situation though, he’s got you teary eyed and shaking on his lap. Clothed erection rutting up against your core, hands digging into your hips to drag you back and forth over him. So determined in how he’s devotedly humping up into you.

So badly you want for him to forget about the thing you said, you just want him to fuck you but he’s not going to, and you can tell that just by the look on his face alone. “Toji, please just – hah – forget what I said,” your voice shakes slightly.

Almost baring his teeth when he snaps back, “Trying to prove you wrong, doll.”

“But it would feel so much better if you – hnn – would just–”

He grunts at you, hips jerking up, “I’ll make you feel so much better once you cum in your pants.”

“I don’t think I–”

Predicting what you were going to say, “–You can, I’ll make sure of it,” his hands gripping you so firm you think he might leave bruises behind.

Toji’s so hard, straining against his pants, desperate to fuck you, to feel some kind of release but you said something that he disagrees with, and now he’s going to show you that you can cum for him no matter how clothed you are.

Panties so slick and sticky, stuck to your cunt, leaking into your pants, you’re going insane. Right on the edge of cumming but not feeling like it’s enough, wanting for him to just stuff you full at this point. Foggy brain not understanding why he’s so bent out of shape over this, it would feel so much better if he would just fuck you.

The friction against your core not enough, his cock splits your folds, grinding you down into him. The pleasure better, hands grabbing at his shoulders, fisting his shirt, gasping at how the head of his clothed cock hits your clit.

“Toji,” you whine at him.

“Right there, huh?” He huffs, doubling his efforts.

Dripping into your panties and shorts embarrassingly, soaking them, so incredibly damp. Something that he doesn’t miss, not if his smirk and visibly inflating ego are anything to go by.

Your eyes are large as you plead with him, “Please, just fuck me.”

His smile is dark, evil, taunting, “I will…after you’ve cum for me.”

Your hips stutter on him, grinding down harder, your own determination to cum like this growing, if it means finally getting fucked full then you will finish for him, fully clothed.

“Suddenly feeling motivated, doll?” His chuckle feels demeaning.

“Shuddup,” you mean for it to have more bite when you say it, but you sound pathetic and needy.

He bites his lower lip at the way you circle your hips, “Pretty cute how desperate you’ve gotten.”

“Be nicer,” trying to chastise him while humping his clothed cock isn’t all that effective.

Laughing heartily at your poor excuse of admonishment, “You should be nicer to me, you know I could always be meaner.” As if to illustrate his point, he lets go of your hips, no longer assisting you.

A sad noise leaves you at the loss of his hands, struggling to get the same kind of pleasure from this without his help. Your fingers digging into his shirt, brows scrunching as you try to make up for the loss of him. Wet cunt grinding down, not quite getting the same kind of pleasure, back to desperately wanting for him to fuck you open.

“I’m sorry,” you rush out, hoping he’ll show mercy.

“What was that, doll?” He asks, feigning like he couldn’t hear you perfectly well.

Shooting him a teary-eyed glare, you repeat, “I’m sorry, just please– help.”

His smile is self-satisfied at your pleading, cooing at you, “You sure you want the help of this mean man?”

“Mhm,” nodding your head vehemently at him, wanting nothing more than that.

Huffing a breath of amusement at your eagerness, “Should’ve said I wasn’t mean there.”

“Toji!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he dismisses, pulling you down with a strong hand on the back of your neck. Lips colliding with his, sloppy and messy, all teeth and tongues.

Once he has his lips on yours, he moves his hand back to your hips, stroking them lower to your thighs just to pull them apart further on top of him. His clothed cock splitting your folds more like this, your pussy twitching and drooling into your panties.

He groans against your mouth, “I bet you’re so fuckin wet,” he pants against you, growing just as frustrated as you, if not more, “Gotta cum soon, doll. Can’t handle much more of this.”

He could always just stop this and fuck you but he’s stubborn and you know better than to try and convince him of this, especially now, when you’re getting so close to finishing.

“Promise to fuck me after?” Feeling worried he might go back on his word and torture you some more.

“Hah– I’m not depriving myself of your creamy little cunt, doll. Stuffing you full right after you’ve cum is one of my favourite pastimes,” he licks at your lower lip before nipping it.

Your arms wrap around him completely, face nuzzling into his neck, focusing on how you’re moving against him. Starting to stutter against your will, his large hands helping you along, supplying you with the friction he had robbed you of only a few moments ago.

His huffed breaths tickling your ear, having turned his head towards you, to continue talking to you, keep spouting filth at you. Too aware of how much his voice gets you off, “C’mon, doll, know you’re so close, cum in your panties for me, hmm?”

Only able to whimper against him in response, no words forming as you continue to rut into him. Pussy hole clenching pathetically around nothing, begging to be filled, getting closer to your end. It’s almost embarrassing that he’s able to have you falling apart despite the fact you’re both fully clothed.

“Be good and cum for me, wanna fuck you into next week,” he groans out when you press down into him with more pressure, his words getting to you more than you’d ever admit.

“Toji –hnn– I’m soo–”

His voice is lilted, excited, “Yeahh that’s it, doing so good for me– fuck.”

You shake on top of him, clit hitting his cock just right, whimpered whines leaving you as you huff against the skin of his neck. Tears welling in your eyes, nails digging into him slightly. The groan he lets out swiftly followed by your name has you cumming for him, in your clothes, fully dressed.

He talks you through it, hands stroking at your back, amused by how you twitch from your aftershocks. After a beat of silence, and your breathing evens out, he speaks lowly into your ear, “Told ya so.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 ★

Your panties are soaked through, almost completely wet as you slide back and forth on Geto’s jean clad thigh. He’s not even touching you, refusing to help, only sitting back and enjoying the view of you humping down into him like a bitch in heat.

Enjoying the frustrated pout settling on your features, playing dumb when he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Not enough,” you huff back.

“Sure it is,” he hums, hand moving only to tickle up the length of your inner thigh, “Look at the mess you’re leaving behind, ruining my pants.”

Your skin flares at his comment, all too aware of the dark and damp spot you’re leaking into his jeans. Not appreciating his comment, only serving to embarrass you, feeling self-conscious with how you’re rubbing your pussy into his thigh.

He must notice, smile kind when he says, “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s cute how worked up you are just for my thigh, think you could cum like this?”

Shaking your head at him, “No –hng–” moaning when he bounces his leg up, jostling you on his thigh suddenly.

“I think you can,” his lips curling into a deceivingly innocent grin, “Go on, keep going,” nodding downwards at his leg, encouraging you to continue your movements.

Sticky folds splitting obscenely to rut down into him, panties moulding to your pussy lips, leaving nothing to the imagination. Slick beading through the material of your underwear, repeated back and forth of your hips spreading it all over him.

A completely lewd display, one that Geto is appreciating deeply, his cock painfully erect at how your eyes are all bleary and unfocused. Simultaneously embarrassed about how you’re humping his leg and so desperate to cum that you’re not stopping your movements.

Small whines and whimpers leaving you, despite the fact that you’re biting your lower lip in an attempt to stop them. Geto’s fingers twitch with the need to touch you, feeling an itch to help you, get you off faster but stopping himself, enjoying the struggle you’re facing a bit too much.

“Sugu, I just want you,” sounding pathetic even to yourself, begging him for help? For his cock? Either? Both?

Tutting at you with faux sympathy, “I’m right here, baby,” smirking at how your brows upturn and you huff at him.

“I want – hah – want you to touch me, please,” eyes big and pitifully wet.

“Always so pretty when you beg,” his hand reaches for your face and wipes away the tears you hadn’t realised you’d shed.

Spreading your legs slightly, continuing to grind down onto his thigh, wishing he would at least take off his pants so you can feel every ridge and dip of his muscles. Slippery in how you rock back and forth, clit catching with your grinding, gasped moans leaving you with it.

He observes, “Getting desperate?”

“Please just touch me, I don’t care where, just touch me please, Sugu,” practically sobbing at him, feeling so completely deprived of him by now.

His outside demeanour stays unchanged, forever amused by how desperate you are for him to touch you but his cock twitches in his pants and is leaking profusely. So fucking hard and ready to fuck you, loving how you plead and beg for him.

Wanting nothing more than to fuck inside you, feel the way your tight cunt sucks him in, drooling all over him but he’s gonna have you finishing like this first. Thinking to himself that you’ll probably make a great face when you cum in your panties for him.

He obliges you slightly though, hands moving to your hips, forcing you down on his thigh harder. Giving you a more consistent pace to get off to, relief flooding you at how much better it feels to have him set the rhythm, you could almost cry at how good it feels.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” it’s repeated over and over, so grateful for his help.

“So polite when you get what you want,” he muses, eyes fixated on the way you’re seemingly growing slicker. God, by the time he’s inside you, you’re going to be beyond dripping, the realisation thrilling him.

Panties borderline see through with how you’re coating them, his large hands gripping your thighs harshly, spreading them open even more. He wants to see how you rub your pretty little cunt down into him, needs to see.

Aching in his pants for you, close to giving up and bullying his thick cock inside you, voice strained when he asks, “Getting close?”

“Mhm,” you mumble back, hole fluttering on nothing at the sound of his wrecked voice.

His leg starts bouncing again, adding more stimulation for you to get off to. Almost screaming at the abrupt change, hands digging into his shoulders, mouth gaping open as moans and whines push their way out of you.

Tears streaming down your face again as you twitch down into him, “Sugu– it feels – ah –” Not able to properly verbalise just how good he’s making you feel.

“If it feels so good,” his hands forcing you down and circling your hips, feeling the way he almost starts salivating at the wet sounds your slutty pussy makes for him, “Cum for me,” almost spitting out the rest of his sentence.

His eyes glazing over, mirroring your own, so fucking horny he’s going to go insane. Poor cock feeling neglected, getting consumed in his own thoughts, thoughts about your cunt and how divinely you take him.

“I– I’m gonna–” panting with the effort it takes to talk when your brain is so foggy.

Extremities thrumming with the build up of your orgasm, head feeling heavy as you struggle to hold it up straight. Letting it loll to the front, chin on your chest as you cum all over Geto’s leg. Gushing inside your panties and soaking his thigh, cum seeping into the material, matching the small wet spot on his pants by the tip of his dick.

“Ffffuck– that’s it, so fucking perfect for me,” praise falling from his lips easily as he watches your body twitch and jerk on top of him.

Once you’ve come down some, he has you standing between his spread legs, your hands resting on his shoulders still to keep yourself on your feet. His hands tug your panties down, watching the way your cum connects to your cunt with sticky strings, low growl stuck in his throat at how creamy your pussy is.

“That’s what I like to see,” he hums, smile evil as he continues to pull them down and off you.

“Sugu.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ll fuck me now, right?” You ask, hoping desperately that he will, not realising that it might just kill him if he doesn’t stuff you full.

“Ah, on one condition,” smile growing as he says, “Open your mouth.” His hand holding your panties shoving them into your mouth, “Since you wanna get stuffed full so bad,” he hums.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ★

What’s gotten Gojo so worked up, you couldn’t say, all you know is that it’s hard to think. Feeling breathless at the way he’s lapping at your clothed cunt, hands pulling at the material on your hips to have them melding to you.

Your legs thrown haphazardly over his shoulders, his faze nuzzling into your pussy, licking and sucking at the material of your panties. His saliva soaking them just as much as your slick is, lolling his tongue out and letting it rest against your cunt. His dazed eyes and small sounds of pleasure having you twitch down onto him, pussy gliding along his tongue.

Using him to get yourself off, he’s letting you use him to get yourself off, head nodding slightly with your movements, tongue sliding through your folds. His eyes sparkling as he watches you grow desperate for him, thumbs parting your pussy lips. Tongue fucking deeper, almost dipping into your hole, stopped by the resistance of your panties.

Your voice calls out for him, “‘Toru, please just take them off–”

“No.” His mouth parting from you only to spit out that singular answer, not interested in taking off your underwear in the slightest. Apparently too pleased with himself and this situation.

Huffing out at him, frustrated by his answer, “Please, need more.”

“I need you to let me lick at your pussy like this, I like the way you’re coating them,” he hums, licking at the length of your pussy, hands now holding you still by your thighs, taking back the small amount of control he allowed you, “Want you to cream them.”

“Why?” Eyes wet when you ask him why he’s suddenly so desperate to have you cumming in your panties for him.

“Wanna see what will happen,” he shrugs easily.

Feeling yourself bristle at his answer, basically torturing you just because he wants to see what will happen.

“That – and I’m enjoying this,” he smiles, tongue hanging from his mouth, letting his saliva drip down onto your covered pussy, you’ve got him salivating for you and he’s not even put his tongue on you properly, “Aren’t you?”

His eyes on you are intent and bordering on desperate, so hazy, consumed by lust as he stares at you, letting his tongue continue to drool down onto your panties. Panties that are completely soaked by now, you can’t even tell who more from at this point, only really aware of how wet they are, to the point they feel like a second skin.

He chuckles when you don’t answer, too dazed in how you watch him, his tongue licking his lower lip, mouth down turning into a mocking pout, “You not enjoying yourself, sweetheart?”

“No,” your frown must feel meaner than it really is because Gojo’s eyes only sparkle with delight.

Smirking before lowering his head, “I guess I’ll just have to fix that then.”

Mouth back on you in full force, making out with your clothed cunt with so much vigour he’s making wet sloppy sounds, the noises make you grow hot, feeling embarrassed at just how messy it all sounds. It’s even messier than it sounds, your pussy leaking into his mouth and down your inner thighs.

Shamelessly, he presses his face right into your cunt, inhaling deeply, the action has your skin flaring. Hands instinctually moving to his head, attempting to push him away but he’s immovable, steadfast in how he’s sniffing the panties you’re still wearing.

“Gojo!”

“Don’t be embarrassed, love everything about your pussy,” he’s nuzzling into your cunt more, opening his mouth to press his tongue against your hole, letting your slick bead through the fabric onto it.

Groaning when he swallows, “Smell so good, taste so good,” his eyes lazily look up to you, “Feel so good, so soft, sweetheart… you know that?”

Teary eyed when you shake your head no at him, feeling so embarrassingly overwhelmed. It’s like he’s drunk but nothing has happened for him to lose it to this point, “Are you okay?” Your hand runs softly through his hair.

“I’m perfect,” he assures, smile intoxicated as he goes back to mumbling about your cunt, “So soft, so wet, you gonna let me suck at your pussy over your panties?”

“Are you sure you’re–”

“–If you’re so worried about me, jus let me have my way with you,” his words slurring slightly.

He realises that he must seem different from usual but really, he’s just having trouble holding back right now. You were wearing such a cute pair of panties, wandering around his apartment in them and his shirt. Who can blame him for how he’s acting? When you looked like that? He’s just a little drunk on your pussy and he doesn’t feel the slightest bit embarrassed about it, not when you’re this wet for him.

Your hand tugs at his hair, pulling his gaze back to yours, it had dipped to stare greedily at your cunt, “Then take off–”

He singsongs at you, “Nope.” Blowing cool air against your core to tease you, it causes you to involuntarily twitch for him, “So needy, lemme play with you like this a little more, hmm?”

“Wouldn’t it be better if–”

“Nooo,” he drags it out, as if it were obvious, “After, I promise after you cum in your panties, I will tongue fuck you so good you’ll see stars but for now, be good and let me do this for you.” He presses wet kisses into your thighs, voice pleading as he repeats over and over, “Please, please, please please please.”

“Just, make me cum, please,” you’re starting to feel neglected.

“Of course I will, what do you take me for?” His brows scrunch at you, considering arguing with you about when he’s not had you finishing for him but too keen to put his mouth back on you to talk anymore.

The only time he’s content to be silent is when his tongue is busy lapping at you like a starved man and even then, he’s far from silent, tongue making obscene noises as he licks at you, moans and whines leaving him against his will. Enjoying himself too much to register or even really care that he sounds so pathetically wrecked just from this much.

Hips grinding down into the bed, too needy to hold himself back, cock so hard and ignored. Leaking profusely into his pants, needing the small relief badly, happy he’s too consumed in your cunt to think about his dick too much, otherwise he’d be stuffing you full before he gets what he wants.

Grip lessening on you, hanging his tongue to let you grind into it again, loving the way you get so eager to cum, chasing your own high and using him to get there. Smiling lazily at how your hips rise and fall, rubbing your pussy down onto him, head tipped back, struggling to keep your whines at bay.

Excitement running through his body down to his stiff cock when you twitch and moan for him in a way that tells him you’re getting so close to cumming. His hands hold your thighs tightly as he assists your movements, encouraging you to be rougher, to use him more.

“‘Toru – hah – I’m gonna – hnn –”

“Mhm,” he hums his acknowledgement, all too ready for you to cum.

Eyes shutting tight against the force of your orgasm, toes curling, thighs attempting to close around his head, but Gojo holds you so embarrassingly open. When your movements twitch and stutter, losing their pace, he pins you down into the bed and keeps licking at you. Depraved in how he’s lapping at you, losing his fucking mind at how you’ve creamed your panties for him.

Tingling felt throughout all your limbs, feeling overstimulated as he doesn’t stop his movements, jerking away from him and pushing at his head, whining, “It’s too much, ‘Toru.”

“Sorry, ‘m sorry,” his hand rips your panties from you, tongue fucking into your pussy hole suddenly, drinking down your cum, desperate for more. It doesn’t seem like he’ll be done anytime soon.

𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 ★

Choso has you on your back for him, legs spread wide, his clothed dick grinding down into your panty clad core. What had started as an innocent kiss, turned into a heated make out session and then into shedding of pants while he humped into your cunt.

So desperate in his movements, cock rubbing through your folds, spreading your pussy lips obscenely. Slick pooling into your panties, he’s much the same, his cock head weeping into his underwear, dark spot at the tip.

His mouth is still firmly planted against yours, kissing you so dizzyingly, sucking your tongue into his mouth. Only ever parting from you long enough to huff out and catch his breath, pressing out compliments through clenched teeth.

“Feels so good, so pretty,” his words murmured, mouth brushing against yours, lips back on yours before you can even think to reply.

He’s holding back for you, you had wanted to take the relationship slower than your previous ones, which included waiting for sex but as the tip of his cock presses at your clothed hole, your resolve cracks and you want to tell him it’s okay.

You don’t get a chance to say anything though, his mouth needily kissing you into submission, almost tearing up at how it feels to have his lips on yours. Hands gripping at his shirt, his own on your thigh, on your hips, your stomach, boobs, anywhere he can reach, he’s touching and groping.

So overwhelming in how he’s touching you, your cunt so slick and ready to take him, legs tightening around his waist and pulling him down into you more. Grinding up into him, so fucking horny and ready to beg for more, Choso whines into your mouth at how you rut up into him.

Breaking the kiss to moan into the delicate skin of your neck, huffing as his hips fuck frantically down into you, meeting your need tenfold. Borderline whimpering at how damp you feel through all the layers.

He’s dizzied, from the thought of how your tight, wet heat will envelop his cock, sucking him in greedily. Losing his sanity as he humps at you, feeling juvenile but wanting nothing more than to respect your wishes and also get you off, he can do both, he can make you cum for him like this without fucking you full.

“Choso – hnn –”

Ah, your wrecked voice has him twitching pathetically against you, hips coming down more forcefully into yours. His breaths panting against your skin, struggling to focus on anything but how good this feels, how much better it could feel.

“– Mmph – Choso,” you call for him again, needing his attention.

His movements don’t stop, not even for a moment, too fucking lost in the pleasure to even think of stopping, “Hmm, you okay?” His hand gently holds your face, his own moving back to look you in the eyes, to check on you.

Nodding your head at him, “I’m fine, want more.”

“No,” he shakes his head at you.

“But–”

“Only saying that now – hah –” his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head at the thought of actually fucking you, “Only saying that because you’re horny – hnn –”

“Nooo – mmph – ‘m saying it because I mean it.”

“Ask me again after you’ve cum,” he noses at the side of your face.

His voice and steadfastness regarding this topic has your pussy clenching pathetically around nothing, eager to be stuffed full of him. Hoping to change his mind, “Cho, please,” eyes big and wet when you plead with him.

“No,” he huffs out, finding it harder and harder to resist you.

“Wanna be stuffed full, Cho – hnn – wanna feel you inside me, so bad,” babbling to him in your want.

Moaning at your words, “I want that too.”

“Then–”

“Nope,” his mouth back on yours to shut you up for a moment, tongue sliding into the kiss. He can’t have you keep begging him like that, he’ll give you what you want but you made the decision to wait for sex before you were so fucking desperate for him to fuck you, so you’ll have to wait.

You’re clawing at him frantically, hips messy in their movements, only seeking pleasure, offering no rhyme or reason to how you achieve it. Drooling into your panties for him, to have him shoving you down his fat cock, taking it all, the idea of it all has you drunk. You’d be embarrassed by how needy you are for his dick if you weren’t so aroused, so preoccupied with how good he’s making you feel.

When he parts the kiss, your mouths are connected by a string of saliva, kiss so messy and fuelled purely by lust. His eyes so dazed as they look down at you, almost unseeing, brows scrunched as his cock jerks against your cunt.

You go to speak, to beg him again, but his hand reaches up to cover your mouth, clamping down, “Can’t keep begging me, I’ll give in, I’ll give you anything you want – fuck – feels so fucking good and I’m not even – hah – not even inside you, can’t even feel how soft you are, how tight, wet – fuck.”

He bites his lip to stop his mouth, dick releasing thick globs of precum at the way you’re almost crying for him, eyes pathetic as you look up at him from underneath his large hand.

“Look so pretty right now,” he compliments, eyes adoring as he does.

You moan back at him, pleading with him through your eyes, his hips stutter and he groans out. His hand leaves you, only so he can use both of them to tug your panties up, spreading your folds open in a lewd display, his cock rubbing against you insistently. Shocked whimpers leaving you at the sudden change in friction, feeling it so much more.

“Cho!”

“I know – fuck – I know,” his head looks down to how your pussy lips bulge around your panties, losing his fucking mind at the sight of it. If he just gave into your begging, your lips could be bulging around his dick.

Shiver running down his spine, eyes flicking back to yours, “You need to cum.”

“What–”

“Right now.”

It feels like he doubles his efforts, grinding down into you with a new kind of need. Your eyes glazing over, fucked out over his clothed cock, body shaking as your high approaches so much faster. The work up having gotten to you, so fucking close to cumming from this.

His mouth back on you, kissing you breathless, hips moving against you almost like he’s fucking you. Hands everywhere, groping, pulling, his whimpers filling your ears, you wonder how he’d sound while actually fucking you.

Cumming suddenly for him, clawing at his back, legs kicking where they’re wrapped around him, cunt pulsing around nothing. Tears slipping from your waterline, mind hazy and foggy, orgasm wracking through you so deliciously.

Choso’s hips stutter against you, nipping at your lower lip before pulling away, whines leaving him as he continues to overstimulate the both of you, refusing to stop until you whimper and push at him.

Looking down to where his pelvis rests against yours, you can see the dark patch at the front of his boxers. His cum leaking into his underwear, the sight has your tummy doing flips and Choso’s skin tinting a deeper pink.

“Can you fuck me now?” You ask simply, still desperate for him.

𝐀/𝐍: i got a bit carried away with this... i think if i hadn't stopped myself gojo's would have been obscenely long 😳 thank you for reading !! ‧₊˚✩彡

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

[skauni]

They Had The Wrong Traitor….

!!WARNINGS!!: Torture, Explicit Descriptions, Gained Trauma, No Happy Ending.

They didn’t know.

How were they SUPPOSED to know..?

Two months ago, Task Force 1-4-1 realized they had a traitor amongst themselves. Someone giving information about them to Shadow Company. They didn’t know who, until all signs started to point to you. Since then has been hell.

They tied you to a cold metal chair with ropes so tight they rubbed your ankles and wrists raw. You still remembered the day it started. Waking up with a splitting headache in the cold, dim lighted, concrete room. A table in front of you. On it you saw a hammer, pliers, a metal bat, sets of knives—even a damn corkscrew.

That first day was hell. You shrieked at the top of your lungs that you were innocent as your main tormentor, Ghost, broke your fingers slowly. Knuckle. By. Knuckle. When you still didn't confess he took the pliers and slowly ripped your nails from your broken and mangled fingers. Making you scream louder in agony.

The rest of the days blurred. Hardly any food or water; just barely enough to keep you alive. Every time a wound scarred they re-opened it. Soap held your jaw open today as Ghost slowly ripped out your teeth. Your voice long gone from hours of shrieking before this. No fight left in you when their radio's crackled to life. "Soap, Ghost, hall. Now." Price spoke. His voice sounded uneasy.

When they left you tilted your head forward. Letting the blood from your removed teeth drip slowly from your lips. It was painful to breathe. Bruised, cracked, and maybe even broken ribs and a broken nose they kept targeting so it never healed. A broken hand and forearm from three harsh strikes of the hammer. Several deep gashes from some of the knives Ghost used on you. A dislocated kneecap from being bashed in by the metal bat.

You couldn’t hear what they talked about out in the hall. But you knew it was something shocking based on the dead silence that came after Price’s muffled voice. In all honesty, over these two months, you started thinking it was your fault this happened to you. Thinking it was your fault you were framed; you just made yourself too easy a target to frame as the traitor.

You heard rushing feet and the sound of vomiting in the trash can down the hall. You guessed Gaz since you heard Soap ask Price something, you heard Price’s gruff grunt and Ghost’s Manchester accent as he swore under his breath. Your eyes fluttered in exhaustion but snapped open on instinct as you heard the door open again. They’d caught the real traitor, a newer recruit who had everyone wrapped around her finger.

Price had entered the room.

“I didn’t do it…” You whispered hoarsely. Your captain nodded. “I know, Y/N… I know…” he whispered softly. You flinched as he unsheathed his knife from its holster, he moved slowly as he cut your hands and legs free. He tried to pick you up but you cried out. He carefully set you back down and radioed for a few medics. They arrived a short while later as Price kept you awake to be sure you couldn’t slip away before everyone could apologize at the very least.

The medics came soon enough and moved you carefully onto a gurney so as to avoid shattering any bones further. They moved you to the med bay as fast as possible to get your wounds tended to and disinfected. Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Price all sat outside of the med bay as they listened to your agonized shrieks and whales of pain from the medics setting your already healing knuckles back in place.

It took a few hours after your corrective knee surgery for the boys to be allowed to finally see you. The medics said you’d be out for a few days so your body could regain a small bit of strength. None of the team wanted to leave your side. They all had set themselves up so they could sleep by the cot the medics placed you on. In and out, they would individually go on missions or go in pairs so two of them could still keep their eyes on you incase you woke up.

A few days turned into a few weeks. And you finally woke up. But not as easily as the team would have wished. A cold sweat soaking your forehead as you groaned in agony in your sleep until you woke up shrieking and tried to curl into yourself for comfort, only causing yourself more pain. The boys had to pin you down so the medic could inject the pain killer.

Through the times you were awake, you refused to let any of them remotely try to touch you. They could see it. The distance you put between yourself and them. The distrust in your eyes. The anger and hurt in your furrowed brow. You had trusted them with your life. And now you were beginning to think you should have never let your guard down. Not for one damn second. But a small part of you thought it was somehow your own fault…

Gaz spent the most time with you. No touching, just trying to get you to talk. Even if in anger. He was slowly piecing your trust in him back together bit by bit. When physical therapy came around you asked him to help you because your knee hurt too much to do it alone and the medic seemed busy with another soldier. The rest of the team saw this, beginning to hope they had a chance at forgiveness as well. They weren’t aware that you never forgave Gaz. You just trusted him enough to count him as a person you will let help you. Not a friend. And not a teammate. Not anymore.

Soap was the second to earn the right to help you, then Price not too long after that. Ghost… was a different story. All he did was glare at you, as if he still thought you were the traitor. To which you returned the hostility. He hadn’t let it show, but he was devastated. He wished he’d have never believed that false evidence. He couldn’t even look at you because all he saw was his work etched into your body. That was why he glared. It wasn’t meant for you, it was directed at his work that scarred your body.

When you could walk on your own without crutches, you went to Price in the break room where everyone was. Expression cold and dead serious as you handed him resignation papers. He froze. “You can’t… we need you on this team Y/N—“ he started but you cut him off. “Need? Or want me here because you loathe yourselves so much you need me to reassure you that you’re forgiven with my presence?” He staggered back. “I never forgave any of you.” You added.

“There isn’t a day we’ve woken up without regretting—“ he tried again. “You don’t get to play that card! Do you know how many times I woke up crying in agony from wounds that are already healed because of you four!? Oh, or how about the fact I can’t stand to be touched by ANYONE anymore!” You snapped back. “Y/N…” Price started to beg. “No. I hate you. All of you. For what you did to me. Don’t even contact me. If you have something to tell me, keep it to yourselves.”

The team was silent. You walked to your barracks and packed. Booked a flight back to your hometown. And walked out the doors of the base. Giving none of them the time of day to apologize or try to fix things between you and them. You hadn’t even told them you neglected to sleep most nights out of fear someone would come out of the shadows and beat you half to death again…

[secretmaniacc]

AAAA I love your writing so much!!!

HEHE I have a smut request for The Salesman

Backstory; Female y/n always see the salesman doing his job at the station. She even played with him one time and won however she never accepted the card. As the days goes by they will greet each other with a simple nod gesture or smile sometimes even small chat before he finds his new victim and she’s heading back home.

UNTIL

She overheard the two recruits Gi-hun hired (I forgot their names oops) planning to hurt the salesman (I know the plot they weren’t supposed to approach him but let’s pretend Gi-hun give them a task to kidnap and torture salesman hehehe)

So y/n ran back to the station and disrupted salesman while he was in the middle of slapping the poor homeless dude. Talking gibberish to him. He has no clue what the hell she’s talking about bc she’s out of breath from running and talking too fast. He’s just confused. When y/n saw the two men again approaching their way. She grabs salesman head and kissed him. [I hope you seen the scene of captain America and black widow kissing to display discomfort so the bad guys won’t catch them at the mall hahaha basically like that scene]

He pulled back looking even more confused. She said display of affection make people uncomfortable, as soon as she said that he looked up and saw the two men walking past them. Y/n felt embarrassed and ran home. In the middle of the night someone was banging her door. She opened it and…..SMUT TIME HEHEHE

Also I’m terribly sorry for my grammar English is not my native language :’)

[also if you do accept can you send me a message 🙈 ty heheh]

SLOW DOWN

pairings: the salesman x Fem!reader

Summary: A routine night at the train station takes a dark turn when you overhear two men plotting to attack the mysterious salesman you’ve casually crossed paths with before. Acting on impulse, you intervene in the only way you can—by kissing him to throw off his pursuers. What seems like a reckless moment of instinct pulls you into his dangerous world.

Warnings: language, violence (kinda), Dom!salesman x sub!reader, praising, whipped cream kink, kissing, mentions of blood, fingering, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, talking you through it.

Wc: 3k

A/n: you ask I deliver, hope you like it, not proofread <33

The sharp snap of skin colliding with skin echoes through the crowded station. You barely flinch. You've heard it before. Too many times.

Across the station, he stands on the cold tile floor—immaculate suit, polished shoes, that same unsettling grin. He raises his hand and slaps the man across from him again. Sharp. Precise.

Another one hooked.

You lean against the metal pillar, watching. You know this game. You’ve played it before.

It was a week ago.

The station hummed with the dull buzz of flickering lights and the occasional metallic screech of trains crawling in and out. You were late. Work had dragged on longer than usual, and by the time you reached the platform, the last train was dragging its heels. The air was thick with the scent of stale coffee and damp concrete.

That’s when you saw him.

The man in the pristine suit.

He stood out like a polished coin in a pile of rusted change. His black hair was slicked back, not a strand out of place, and that too-perfect smile stretched across his face like it had been painted on. He leaned casually against a pillar, holding two small folded squares of paper—one red, one blue.

He caught your eye, tilting his head slightly in acknowledgment. Then, with a subtle flick of his wrist, he gestured to the empty space across from him. His movements were practiced, smooth, as if this routine had been rehearsed countless times.

Curiosity gnawed at you before logic could interfere. You found yourself walking toward him, footsteps echoing off the concrete walls.

“Want to play a game?” His voice was smooth, almost melodic. He held up the two folded papers between his fingers, the colors dull under the harsh station lights.

 “Seriously?” You eyed him warily.

“It’s simple. Flip my tile with yours. If you win, I’ll give you 100,000 won. If I win…” His smile widened, just enough to feel unsettling. “I slap you.”

You scoffed, folding your arms. “That’s it? No tricks?”

“No tricks.” His tone didn’t waver.

Against better judgment, you stood. The game was straightforward, deceptively so. The first round, you won. The second, too. His tile moving frantically under your strikes. His face remained unchanged, though, as if he expected this. Not a single slap coming your way. He handed over the cash with a flick of his wrist, the money slipping into your palm like silk.

Then came the card.

A brown rectangle with a circle, triangle, and square etched in black. He held it out casually, like an afterthought.

“What’s this?” you asked, fingers hovering over it.

“A bigger game. A chance to win more.”

His voice dipped, something darker coiled beneath his words. A chill crept up your spine. You smirked, flicking the card back at him with two fingers.

“Not interested.”

The card fluttered to the ground, but he didn’t look offended. No, he only chuckled, kneeling down and slipping it back into his pocket.

Since then, you saw him often.

Always at the station. Always playing his game with some poor soul desperate enough to take the bait. Your interactions became routine—brief nods, and smiles the occasional quip when you caught him mid-game.

But tonight was different.

You are leaned against a pillar, letting the cold seep into your back. The station was quieter than usual, the shadows thicker. That’s when you heard them.

Two men by the vending machines, their voices low but sharp.

“That’s him. The guy in the suit.”

“Yeah. Just like boss said. We follow him out, grab him, torture him, make him talk. He knows everything.”

Your stomach twisted. Shit.

Without thinking, you pushed off the pillar and sprinted across the station, boots slapping against the concrete. Your breath came in ragged gasps, the cold air burning your lungs.

He didn’t notice you until you were right in front of him.

“You need to leave. Now.”

His hand paused mid-slap, hovering above the cheek of a nervous man. Slowly, his head turned to you, one brow lifting.

“Excuse me?” His tone was calm, almost amused.

You leaned in, speaking low and fast. “Those two men by the vending machines? They’re coming for you. You need to trust me and leave.”

His eyes didn’t move, but something shifted in his posture. He blinked slowly, considering you.

“I don’t know what you’re saying”

Frustration flared. You glanced back. The two men were moving now, angling toward you both.

“Shit,” you muttered. Thinking fast, you did the first thing that came to mind.

You grabbed his face and kissed him.

His entire body stiffened, muscles locking beneath your hands. The world around you seemed to freeze. The station noise dulled to a distant hum.

You pulled back abruptly, heart pounding in your ears. His wide eyes stared into yours, utterly confused.

“Display of affection,” you muttered, wiping your mouth on your sleeve. “Makes people uncomfortable.”

His gaze flicked past you. The two men hesitated, awkwardly glancing away as they veered off in the opposite direction.

A slow, amused chuckle rumbled from his chest. He straightened, smoothing down his tie.

“Clever.”

Your face burned. "I’m sorry, I had to do that, but you need to get out of the station."

Without another word, you turned and bolted, weaving through the crowd and up the station steps. You didn’t stop until the cold night air hit your face.

---

It was well past midnight when the banging started.

You jolted awake, heart slamming against your ribs. Someone was pounding on your door, relentless.

You hesitated, fingers brushing over the baseball bat by your bed. But you decided to leave it, Slowly, you approached the door, peeking through the peephole.

It was him.

The man in the suit.

Your blood ran cold, before you unlocked the door cautiously, opening it just a crack.

“What the hell—”

He pushed the door wider, stepping in uninvited. That same unnerving smile stretched across his face.

“We need to talk.”

His tone left no room for argument.

You stared, unsure whether to slam the door in his face or listen.

“About what?” you asked nervously

His smile widened just a fraction.

“About why you tried saving my life.”

His voice was smooth, but something darker lurked beneath it. You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how small your apartment felt with him standing there. He took a slow, deliberate step forward. And another. Closing the door behind him.

Instinctively, you backed up.

His eyes never left you, scanning you with unnerving precision. The thin fabric of your pajama shorts and the loose strap of your shirt felt far too revealing under his gaze. Like he was undressing you. Heat crept up your neck, but you couldn’t look away.

“You ran all that way... just to save me?” His tone was low, edged with amusement, but there was something sharp underneath. He tilted his head, taking another step closer, as you backed up again. "Tell me, was it bravery... or something else?"

“I—uh... I just thought—”

“You thought what?” he interrupted smoothly, still moving forward, now closing the space between you. “That I couldn’t handle a few men?”

You felt your breath catch. Your heel bumped into the cold tile of the kitchen counter. Shit. Nowhere else to go.

He noticed.

“I killed them, you know.”

Your eyes snapped to his face. The casual way he said it made your stomach twist.

“Oh, yes.” His smirk deepened. “It was... enjoyable.”

Your gaze drifted, almost involuntarily, to the dark stains on his shirt. Blood.

The air thickened. Your breathing turned shallow, chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. He was too close now.

His hands came up slowly—deliberately—and planted themselves on either side of you, caging you in against the counter. The cool edge of the countertop bit into your lower back.

He leaned in, close enough that his breath ghosted over the curve of your neck. His scent—metallic, faintly sweet, and something darker—wrapped around you. One of his hands slid, gliding over your waist, fingers curling to pull you forward against him, eliminating even the smallest sliver of space between you. And that’s when you felt him.

“You should be more careful who you save,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not everyone is grateful.”

Before you could react, his hands shifted with unsettling ease, gripping your hips. In one smooth motion, he lifted you, setting you on the cold countertop. You gasped, instinctively gripping the edge, your legs parting as he stepped between them, locking you in.

His eyes bored into yours, and for a fleeting second, you couldn’t decide if it was fear or something else that sent a shiver down your spine.

“So, tell me,” he murmured, voice dropping lower. "Why did you really save me?"

His hand traced slowly along your thigh, barely touching, yet burning. You couldn’t answer. Your mind screamed for words, but your lips stayed parted, breathless.

And his smirk deepened, eyes flicking past you to something on the counter that you forgot to remove earlier. Slowly, he reached over without breaking eye contact. His fingers curled around the can of whipped cream, lifting it with casual ease. 

Your brows knit in confusion. "What are you—" 

Before you could finish, he brought the nozzle to his lips and pressed down. The soft hiss filled the air as the white cream curled into his mouth. He swallowed slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. 

“Sweet,” he murmured, voice smooth and dark. His eyes dragged lazily over you, settling on your parted lips. “But it could taste better.” 

Before the words could settle, his hand moved—calloused fingers tilting your chin up. His thumb and forefinger gently hooked under your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open. The cool metal of the can brushed your skin, and a soft stream of whipped cream slid onto your tongue. 

You barely had a moment to react before his mouth crashed into yours. 

The kiss was fierce, and unapologetic. His lips moulded to yours, but it wasn’t enough—his tongue pushed past your lips, exploring every corner of your mouth, tasting the lingering sweetness, tangling with your tongue in a heated rhythm. 

Your breath hitched, and your hands instinctively gripped his shirt, knuckles brushing against the dried blood you hadn’t dared to question yet. fisting the fabric as his kiss deepened. He groaned low in his throat, a sound that vibrated through you, spurring him on. 

His tongue teased and stroked against yours, pulling soft, involuntary sounds from you. Every movement was calculated, demanding, as if he wanted to taste every bit of you, not just the sweetness on your lips. 

When he finally pulled back, your chest rose and fell rapidly, lips slick and swollen. A trail of saliva between you.

But he wasn’t finished. 

The can hissed again—this time against the sensitive skin of your neck. A cold trail of cream dripped along your pulse point, making you shiver. 

Then his mouth was on you—hot and unrelenting. His tongue flicked over the sticky trail, licking it up slowly, savouring the taste of cream and skin. His teeth grazed your throat, nipping just enough to make you moan. 

A low chuckle rumbled against your neck as his lips latched on, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. 

His grip tightened around your waist, your legs wrapped around his hips without thinking, drawing him impossibly closer. 

His breath ghosted over your ear, deep and rough. 

“See?” he murmured, tongue lightly tracing the shell of your ear. “It tastes so much better this way.”

He was breathing closer to your ear, lingering over your neck for moments before his lips pressed against you again.

You moaned out softly to how he was kissing your bare shoulders, down to the blade of them, then back up, “damn it,” his notes were so low, “fuck”

“What?” you finally managed to say, pushing against him a bit, the feeling immaculate, you could feel how hard he is pressing against you, and you can barely breathe.

“you’re so fucking sweet.”

The tension is thickening around you, the heat in your bodies is too much to ignore, you couldn’t stand against it, you couldn’t stand against him, he was just so addicting in a way you couldn’t quite place.

The very instant you felt his lips on your skin again, the warmth of his body, you couldn’t hold it back. Arching your back, pushing thighter against him, you could rupture at how he was teasing at the hem of your shorts, “take them off.”

He pulled the fabric down frantically, a thud to the ground, before slipping his fingers below the lace material of your underwear, and you gasped, your body tensing close to his the very instant he came in contact with your clit, “so wet f’me”

You nearly moaned, huffing sweetly at his touch and the circles he made, “the things I have in my mind for you.” His hand gently started cupping your breast. He had you in such a hold now that you could barely move.

Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head, it was the tension his voice held.

He let his middle finger inside you as far as he could reach, you spread your tight a bit further apart allowing him more of you.

“Mhm? Right there, yeah?” he growled, nearly moaning himself at the way you moved. “fuck, you’re so soaked.”

You couldn't even hear him properly. your mind wasn't working further than to what his hand was doing to you. He moved steadily in and out of you, curling his finger right where it would have you shaking. His thumb brushed across your clit every now and then, and you couldn't focus.

''Yeah,'' he muttered, nibbling at your earlobe, ''Be my beautiful girl and let me feel you.''

you reached out tangling your fingers into his black strands, and it didn't take long until you was a moaning mess under his touch. Your hips spasmed. Your breathing levelled heavier, and you gasped repeatedly. It was music to his ears, a never-ending orchestra.

''Now I want to know, do you want to continue'' he withdrew his touch from your core, forcing his hand down between you. “I won’t, if you don’t want to”

Without thinking your fingers intestinally wrapped around the loop of his belt, confidence build up as you tugged at it forward. “I want to.” You breathed before loosening his belt, the sound of clashing metal echoing through the kitchen.

He took over impatiently zipping his pants down, before freeing his throbbing erection from his boxers as he pushed the material aside.

Taking his cock in his hand and you moved with him. You was still facing him, your chest pressed against his front as he lifted your thigh, giving him everything he could need from you.

''To think I’ve always fantasized about this moment,'' he hissed as he dragged his cock up and down your soaked slit. Teasing by pushing forward and creating unbearable friction against your clit, ''I thought that after that night, I would never see you again, yet you kept showing up, flashing me those smiles, making my mind drive me insane, fuck—''

You exhaled, thundery. You couldn't shape a word at the pleasure he is putting you through even if you wished to do so. you simply whined. body shaking.

Pushing into you, a bit at the time, he bit down your bare shoulder, needing to ease his own tension, “You're like a cigarette at midnight—dangerous, burning slow, and impossible to put down."

He moved his hand over your hip, lifting your leg more, “And the worst part? You know it’ll ruin you—leave you hollow and wrecked—but fuck, you’re already leaning in, desperate for that first hit, craving the way it burns and numbs you all at once.”

You threw your head back, tensing your fingers into his hair as he fucked you on the countertop. It was hard. He fucked you roughly yet with so much passion. It was intimate, emotional. His body moved with yours— your body obeyed his.

“...and that’s the real addiction, isn’t it? Not the rush, not the aftermath—but the waiting. The wanting. Knowing it’ll destroy you and still craving every second before it does.'' He was speaking so low to you, plunging his cock in and out of you, forcing your body to take what he gave.

You whimpered, your fingers clawing at his neck now, ''please—''

He pushed harder. Forced his cock deeper, reached further.

''And not to speak about this fucking cunt...'' He moaned, drawing his tongue along the arch of your neck, ''I can't really blame myself if I get hooked, can I?''

you breathed out. Your eyes rolling, your back curling, ''Please. I can't take it—''

''One taste of this, and you're fucking addicting.'' The hand supporting your leg slid lower until the back of your knee rested in the curve of his elbow, and he spaced your thighs more, diving into you depths and losing his mind over how hot and tight you were around him.

''I'm—''

He was relieved by that. He could barely hold himself together at the tension between you, the fusion and mix of need and thirst of your bodies. He slowed his movements, not bucking his hips as roughly anymore, and you were close. So close.

''Fucking hell—'' He groaned against your shoulder again, burying his head into the soft spot of your neck. He came the second he felt you pulsating around him. The instant he felt your release around him, he came just as crashing down as you'd done.

Breathing heavily, he pulled out, stepping back just a bit as he dragged your worn out body forward. It was a moment, if so a short, little one, where your cheek rested against his chest, and his lips pushed into the top of your head. That tiny moment felt good. It felt calm and reassuring to both of you.

“thanks, for keeping me alive.”

[namjooningera]

Hii can I request any yandere JJK men with a reader whose on a hunger strike or refuses to be handfed by them? Ty ^.^

Yandere JJK react to y/n refusing them/not eating

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, (NEW) Sukuna (king ver of Sukuna)

AN: just reader being a lil bratty (real) also I just added Sukuna as a new character tehe. Tell me how it is 👀 however since he’s a yan I am making him softer towards y/n (but insaner towards other ppl yk?) also he’s a king in this one so

TW: starving, SLIGHT physical violence, threats, force feeding, tiniest bit of infantilization (gojo & Nanami)

Gojo:

No he won’t allow it.

He won’t allow you to act like a child and refuse to eat or drink. At this point he’s worried because you won’t do anything. Like a dead doll standing as still as possible to not be caught moving.

Nothing scares him. But you do.

So he took matters into his own hands and tied you up in a chair, hands to the armrests, legs to the feet of the chair, chest binded and rope littered all around the rest of your body tied to the helpless chair.

You screamed since you couldn’t kick, bit since you couldn’t hit, tried to refuse and refuse and he just didn’t know what to do. Seeing you hurt yourself, not eating as a protest to your involuntary stay, god it was torture to him. Like his own punishment.

At first he let it go. Tried to hand feed you your favorite snacks and placed a cup of cold water at your lips. And everytime you smacked it away from you. He watched your favorite snacks hit the floor and soil the carpet. The water spill and create a wet mess on the floor boards.

Why couldn’t you just be good and eat? Drink? Please stop refusing. At one point he almost started begging you. Hands at his chest, put together, eyes wide and sad, his mouth profusely spitting out begs and whines of how he just wanted you safe and healthy.

You didn’t listen.

You probably should’ve, or at least acknowledged his damn presence, because what he did next what’s unpredictable.

Tying you up in that chair and force feeding you. He made you your comfort food in hopes you’d actually want to eat it on your own. You didn’t. Which is fine. It just means he had to take extra precautions. His hand swirled the spoon of food around in the air, blowing raspberries as he said,

“Here comes the airplane!” As if you were some stupid child not wanting to eat your greens.

The spoon flew to your mouth but you moved your head to the side the only thing you could move, avoiding the spoon and it’s food.

His smile dropped just the tiniest bit but he continued his ministrations.

“Babe! Here comes the airplane Kay? Say ahh!” He announced once again in that awfully positive attitude, nudging the spoon at your lips, which you kept sewn shut.

“Come on babe, just open up~” but you didn’t, and he was getting impatient. “Babe?”

You didn’t look at him, didn’t dare open your mouth or even glance his way.

He snaps, grabbing your jaw and pinching your nose. You gasped, not being able to breathe, and without a second thought, that spoon of food was shoved into your mouth. He let go of your nose, and scooted his chair closer to yours.

“It’s good right? I added extra flavoring just for my girl. I know you like it that way.” He giggled, as if he didnt force the food down your damn throat.

“Here comes the choo choo train!” He whistled, and you realized that he enjoys babying you the way he does, even if it meant going against your will.

Geto:

This man does not play around either.

Coming home to you after a long day with what he calls “monkeys” just to see the untouched food still sitting on the table from when he made breakfast. He had brought take out- just to find out that you haven’t been eating in the first place.

He made that for you, took time out of his day to cook, make breakfast for you, the time where he’s normally busy. But alas, he cleans the dishes and runs up to your room and knocks on your door. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want him in he’ll come in anyway.

“I noticed you didn’t touch your plate. From this morning. It’s night now.”

Your stuffed into the sheets, messy covers over your body and head in your pillows. You don’t answer. You don’t think he deserves one.

“You haven’t eaten all week.”

He shuts the door behind him and storms towards you. It’s obvious that your silence is making him angry. Normally, you ignoring him doesn’t make him upset, he understands how you might feel…uneasy in this kind of situation. But hurting yourself? That’s not something he’ll allow or even tolerate.

He grabs the sheets and tugs them off of you, revealing your drained form. You groan and cover try to tug the sheets back to cover your body but he throws them to the floor and glared at you.

“You know why you’re so drained? It’s cause’ you won’t fucking eat.”

You don’t answer, you don’t want to answer. You just want the bed to swallow you whole, and the ground to open up so that you may fall into the abyss and disappear.

“I don’t want your fucking food.” You say, instead.

“Why not? Is it not to your liking?”

You grumble and glare up at him, finally lifting your face from the pillows.

“You’re not to my liking- Suguru I wanna go home-“ “enough!”

He cuts you off quickly, shutting you down almost immediately, which causes you to stuff your head back into the pillows.

He groans seeing this and slowly shuffled onto the bed with you. His mouth came down to your ear where he whispered

“If you don’t at least try to eat, I’ll make you.”

A shiver ran down your spine, you knew he wasn’t fibbing. You slowly got out of bed but he was quicker then you, pulling you out by your arm and sitting you up against the bed post.

He brought the takeout food and opened the bags of food on the bed, handing you a plate and utensil. You took it hesitantly and kept it on your lap. Not opening the food.

“Well?”

You shook your head. This was your way of protest, against him holding you captive, running a cult, being a damn curse user-

“You’re going to eat.” He demands, and you just shake your head and look to the side of you, away from him. You know he’ll force you- but you can’t help but refuse him anyway.

And without a second thought, he grabs the food then you, hoisting you into his lap without a single chance for you to fight back. One arm caging you in by your chest and arms, stopping any movement from you, the other bringing a spoon to your mouth.

“Eat, darling, or it’ll get worse from here.” A smile adoring his lips and licking the tips of your ear.

You finally take a bite of the food, his arm that basically were bruising your ribs to stop your movement finally unclenched around you and gave you a second to breathe.

“See? That wasn’t so hard. Now open up.”

Toji-

“Yer’ not eating your food.”

You’ve slumped down on the chair in front of him in the dining room, swirling around the water in your glass cup, the food in front of you untouched.

“I’m talking to you, doll.”

But you ignore him, watching the whirlpool or water in your cup, ignoring his very obvious angry presence.

“You haven’t eaten in days. You know what’s’ that gonna do to you? You’re gonna faint.”

You again ignore him and sigh, head resting on your hand that rested against the table.

“I’m talking to you.”

You don’t look up. You know it’s a lousy way to protest this invuluntary stay but you can’t think of anything else. He’s basically taken away any other form of protest you could ever possibly have, he’s controlling and fuck is he actually smart. His protectiveness on the kind of level where he made sure you could never fight back or hurt yourself in the process.

As your dazed, zoned out in your own thoughts, you don’t see him get out of his seat and grab you by your arm, forcing you up and off the seat and the floor.

“Didn’t yeah hear me?”

You wince at the fact your arm is being held above your head and you’re practically hanging from it.

“I heard you okay.. I’m not hungry.”

He huffs and puts you down. “Not hungry? It’s been days, doll. Days.”

You just shrug, rubbing your sore arm from being hanged up by it.

“If you don’t eat, I don’t mind feeding you like a baby bird. I’ll eat it up then force into your mouth with mine.”

“Y-you’re so crude, Toji..” You almost whine, disgusted by the thought.

“I’m not kidding.”

You sit back down at your seat, his eyes watching you pick up the fork and start to stab at your food.

“What did I say?”

“Okay okay.” You whine, finally sticking the fork in your mouth, making eye contact with him as you do, glaring at him.

“Tastes bad.” You whine.

“You little-“

Nanami-

Nanami is quite the patient man. You don’t want to get out of bed? Fine. You don’t want to shower? Fine. You don’t want to touch him? Fine. But you don’t want to eat or drink? That’s fucking pushing it.

When he first took you, he made sure you got all the proper nutrients you need, took care of your hygiene and made sure you were perfectly physically healthy.

He’s been putting down food at your nightstand for every meal, sometimes snacks in the middle of meals as well. He feeds you such a good amount that’s supposed to keep you full for every second of the day. Keep you satisfied. And pantries filled with your favorite snacks (the healthier versions, however), and a mini fridge with your favorite zero-sugar healthy drinks. With water, of course.

But you haven’t touched any.

He notices that every meal he puts down at your nightstand is untouched. You lay still in bed, so still he thinks you might be dead. Well you might be, with the absence of food eating at you.

And the pantry is untouched so is the mini fridge, and all the snacks he left for you in the middle of the days start to pile up.

At first he didn’t mind it. He got it, you might be nauseated or feel sick at the fact your away from home. That’s fine. He’ll give you time.

But then days go by.

And he just gets so worried about your health.

He encouraged you as much as he could but wouldn’t push it, he didn’t wanna scare you away. But at this point, it was just ridiculous. He watched from work, on his phone with the app that connected all his security cameras, watching as you hovered around the kitchen. He knew you were hungry. So why torture yourself?

At this point it was torturing him, not you. Well maybe that was the point to it. But he couldn’t take it anymore. He felt like a terrible caregiver. He was supposed to take care of you and protect you as your lover- that’s the damn reason he took you in, in the first place. So why couldn’t you see that? Why couldn’t he help you?

But Nanami is a good man, with zero bad intentions. So he decides first he can try bribing you. He makes your favorite dishes, the smell wafting in your room and up your nose. He places it at your nightstand, with your favorite cold drink next to it. The perfect combo. He does this for a while. No matter how hard the food is to make, whatever bullshit combination he needed to construct, however simple or complicated, he made it.

And yet you didn’t eat it.

He tried buying you material things, giving you extra little privileges like time in the garden or extra TV time, but you don’t even use them. You don’t even care.

And he can tell that you would, if you had the strength to. But you don’t, you’re weak. Probably because you’ve gotten so weak. But your hoping, your begging, that maybe he’ll see your weak body and finally get you some help. Maybe he’ll realize this is hurting not helping you, and he’ll let you go. You know the Nanami you’ve always known is deep down beneath the insecurity of his yandere self. You just need to find it right?

He got home that night. Late. His mind buzzed with work, eyes tired and body sore from constantly staying in his office chair, clicking the keyboard and staring at a screen. He’s been looking into a job for jujutsu sorcerers- but he thinks that’ll take too much time away from you.

He dragged his body into the house, closing the door behind him and quietly yelling out, “Sweetheart, I’m home.”

He hoped you’d flock to the door and he’d feel your warmth- but obviously that was just a dream to him and you never did so. Staying hidden away in the your room or wherever you were.

He decided to prepare a late dinner for the both of you, hoping some time together could encourage you to eat.

He dragged his body to your room. He just needed you, needed your warmth, your kindness, your loving presence and any kind of physical and emotional attention you could give him.

But as he opens the door to your room, he sees the breakfast he left on your. NIght stand, still left untouched.

“Sweetheart. This has gone too long. I respect all your decisions, and that you might be upset with me, but I need you to eat.”

Your wrapped up in the sheets, ignoring him, face stuffed in your white pillows.

“Honey, dear. Please, look at me.”

You can hear the desperation in his voice, the almost begging in his timid voice that almost makes you choke.

You look up at him, soft dead eyes staring up at his concerned ones.

“I made your favorite meal again. I know you don’t want to eat, but can you at least come sit at the table with me?”

You know this is his soft way of trying to convince you. And you also know that he wants you to sit at the table so he can feel like you two are an actual couple not one from hell.

You get up, which makes him sigh of relief. Thinking that you’re giving him a chance. Obviously, that’s not your idea, but you’ll let him think so.

He gently takes your hand, leading you downstairs to the dining table. You see he decorated, putting candles on the table, brought out the fancy silverware and china, the wine glasses and table cloths that matched the fabric of the silk pillows on the cushioned chairs.

“Sit, my love.” He pulls your chair for you, with a gentle smile. You can see the relief in his eyes when you sit, and he pushes you in.

You’d be flustered by such a gentlemanly move if it wasn’t for the situation you were currently in.

He sits in front of you and pops open the white wine, the insanely expansive white wine, pouring some in both of your glasses, he raised his up to yours, in which you ignored, and he clinked his glass with yours.

“Ready to try? I simply perfected the recipe-“

You place a spoonful of food in your mouth, before spitting it out right at him, shocking him and making yourself laugh for the first time in so long.

You soiled his expensive blouse, the shock of your behavior making him spill his wine, his eyes wide and looking down at his ruined blouse, then to you, then to the spilled wine, then to you.

You just giggle, smirking in victory at his dazed response and how you won’t let yourself be pushed around by him.

But what you don’t expect, is for this extremely caring gentlemanly man to slam down the cloth from on his thighs down at the table, getting up as he unloosed his tie.

“I’m done.”

And your smile drops in a way that makes you realize you won. He’ll let you go, he’s finally done with you he’s gonna let you go-

“If you want to act like a child I will simply treat you like one, until you can behave like an adult.”

Your eyebrow raises at that. What? Wait what?

He throws his tie off his neck, grabbing your hands and tying them up. You try to fight him off you but he’s strong, he didn’t even try.

He leaves, and your relieved, a little scared that he left you tied but at least the mad man is gone. But then he comes back with a toddlers seat. A fucking child booster seat.

Your eyes widen as you realize what he meant. “N-no no way! I’m not sitting in that- I won’t even fit-“

“You know I bought this.. I bought this hoping our first child could use it..” he sighs. “But I guess you can be the test drive..”

“N-no! Your crazy! Your insane! I won’t even fit in it I won’t!”

“You don’t have a choice.” He cuts you off. “I’m tired of watching my love kill themselves off just because you’re upset. You can be upset just don’t hurt yourself.”

He places the child’s booster seat next to you, at the table.

“You either eat, or fucking sit here and I’ll feed you. Well? Do you want a baby bottle too?”

Sukuna:

Catching the eye of someone so murderous and evil is just the most hell filled unfortunate thing that can happen to you.

And it did.

You found yourself being coddled and “loved” by a monster. He’s pure evil, and you’re his. There’s no denying it. You’re the chosen one.

As his maids touch up your hair, give you a manicure, clean your face of the tears and blood from biting your lips, you stare at them with desperation in your eyes.

Save me.

You think, but they won’t. They’re loyal.

Sure, Sukuna hasn’t done anything actually bad to you, but he’s locked you up, like a princess in a tower. You hope that your prince in shining armor will save you, that he’ll come running with his horse and sword, armor and shield in hand.

But he never does. And if he did, you’d never know because Sukuna probably killed him before he even got a chance to get a glimpse of your pearly eyes.

A maid brushes your hair. You think. He’s taken away all your forms of protest.

When you stopped taking care of yourself, that was fine, he ordered his maids to wash your hair and clean your body, do your skincare and paint your nails. Even go as far as to brush your damn teeth.

They’d use expensive amounts of creams and moisturizers, the kind even the bourgeoisie couldn’t afford. Perfumes from across the land and hair oils from different kingdoms.

All these things, just for you.

When you didn’t want to get out of bed, see the sun, he made sure you were made to get that vitamin D every morning, a small stroll before and after breakfast in the garden, with of course, the guards watching you.

He pampered you, without even being there. Made sure you were healthily entertained with your favorite books and games, all your devices you humans use to take up time. He even brought a festival worth of people to greet you when he took- when you came. Circuses, fire crackers, acrobats, all those to welcome you into his palace.

And you took it all with a grain of rice.

You didn’t want to be here, you didn’t mean to pique his interest. But you did. And now your stuck. You even heard the townspeople whisper of how the man who forced everyone on their knees to worship him is now worshiping you. A mere boring human.

So you decided to find your own way to protest, something he can’t force you to do or make other people do for you.

Eat.

You sat at the large dining table, him on the long other side, watching as he ate, watching him with no love or adoration in your eyes. While he would hold the stars for you. He’d bring them down for you if you asked.

“Well? Is it not to your liking?” You hear him slur from his side of the table.

“No.” You know this is dangerous. The cruel king, he could have your head.

“What’s not to your liking? I’ll have it changed.”

You shove the plate away from you. “It’s all bad, I don’t wanna eat.”

Maybe you should’ve used different words, different wording to your protest because Sukuna simply didn’t understand it was a form of protest.

“It’s that terrible? Very well. Servants, carry the chef who decided to cook my woman this rechid food and have him publicly executed.”

Your eyes widen with dismay and shock and you look at him. “What? Executed?”

“What? What did you expect, woman? Anyone who feeds my soon to be queen something not up to par, they shall be ridden with shame. With, or without their head.”

He says it with such a nonchalant attitude, as if he isn’t talking about death.

“I-I no. It’s not bad, actyally. Hah. I just meant.. I wasn’t hungry.” You try to solve this mess you accidentally dragged others into.

“Your dramatic show of disgust was simply because you aren’t… hungry?”

He looks at you almost confused, the big plates of foods surrounding him. He had a surplus of hunger, the kind of hunger only you can satisfy.

“I… I apologize.” You think about giving up on your plan, you don’t want to drag people into this, have them hurt because of you. “I just.. actually prefer your food.” You lie.

“My food?” He smirks. The maids and servants look around in fear, some even annoyance, expecting your head to fly off and blood to soil the floors after you basically asked to share food-his food, with you.

“Very well then. You may sit close and satisfy your belly with my food.”

He pats the seat close to him, different from the seat your sitting at now, far from Sukuna. Everyone stares at you with bewildered shock, that the cruel Sukuna is willingly sharing his meal with you, that he hasn’t offed you or anyone else in his vicinity for your request.

You waddle over to him, sitting next to him, and he watches you try a piece of meat, lamb, off one of his large family plates, as if asking for your approval, to see if you like it.

You hum, the food is actually prepared amazingly well, a lot better then the streets of the poor sides of town you had to buy your meat from.

He nods at you, and continues to finish his meal as well, practically clawing and savagely ripping apart the food at his hands, like some animal.

Everyone’s always been afraid of the way he eats, as if he’s ripping apart someone’s flesh and bones, but to you it’s kind of pathetic. Like a little puppy and its chew toy, slobbering over its bone. Instead of saying this however (which he’d have your head for), you go for taking a small folded table cloth napkin and wipe the blood from the flesh of his food off his cheek, cleaning off the smeared gore that he doesn’t seem to notice.

He looks down at you, huffing as a sign of appreciation at your small sign of affection, and you look back up at him with the same look.

You hate this cruel man, the man who’s killed hundreds and hurt people and hurt you. Who stole you.

But as you look up at him, the folded napkin in your hand still poking at his dirtied cheek, you can’t help but think that perhaps the cruel king and the prince in shining armor are the same person.

And that’s Sukuna for y’all 😈😈🔥 guys why did I accidentally make his fluffy what

[jasmines-library]

Hey, I love your Batfam work! Is there any chance you could do a whump/angst one of batsis being kidnapped by a villian(you can choose whoever you want) and she’s tortured for days with it being broadcasted to the Batfam while they try to track the footage. I feel kinda bad but can you do maybe some head trauma md severe burns? Maybe she has to be put in a medically included coma or smth because of the damage? Also is there any way you could include Barb and Duke along w/ the four robins? If not that’s totally cool! Sorry for the long request but I hope you have a great day!!

Anonymous Requested: batfam x batsib reader whos the youngest and newest robin and is just really goofy and doesn’t take anything seriously (ex: them blaring “who’s the (bat)man” on the comms during patrol [that songs stuck in my head i had to mention it]) and something happens, maybe their first close encounter to death or a run in with the joker and they just become a shell of who they were and stuff

Jokes On Me

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: My god im so sorry this literally took me forever to write, thank you so much for being patient. I've been trying to write this all week but just couldn't sit down for long enough to finish it.

Warnings: Torture, blood, burns.

Word Count: 2.5k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

“Y/N, turn that shit off.”

Jason grumbled at you over the coms. You had been blasting some wretched song that you’d found on the internet over and over again and it was beginning to drive him mad. 

“Nope.” You said, popping the ‘p’ loudly. 

“Seriously.” Dick deadpanned. He had found it amusing at first, but it was now beginning to test his patience. 

Agitated, you sighed and turned off the music. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Jason expressed gratefully, turning his eyes back to the road he was patrolling. The night was cool and quiet besides the odd dog walker or couple returning from an evening out. It was one of those nights where patrol would end early and he could return home to take a warm bath and read a book before turning in for the night. Or so he thought. 

You were rounding the corner, humming that tune that was still stuck in your head when his laughter ricocheted across the walls. You stiffened, eyes widening and hands fumbling for your weapon as your breath hitched. No amount of turning and craning your head allowed you to catch a glimpse of the dreaded figure, and you thought for a moment that perhaps it had just been a trick of your mind, or one of your brothers playing a cruel joke on you as payback for winding them up earlier. But then you heard it again, only this time to your left. You clutched your weapon tighter, eyes scanning the area with a new found sense of urgency. 

“Wing…” You whispered into the coms so quietly that you were surprised he heard it.

“What now?” He somewhat snapped. 

“We have a problem.”

Dick’s heart sank through the floor, his ears pricking up and his demeanour changing completely. “Where are you? What’s the matter? He was trying to let his panic show, but you hadn’t been patrolling as a vigilante for very long, and while you were well trained, you lacked the experience to deal with something big on your own. And from your tone of voice, he could tell that you were in some deep shit. 

Jason worked his legs harder to push himself to reach the direction he had seen you head off in. Albeit it seemed even his hardest wasn’t enough.

When he stepped out of the darkness, the first thing you noticed were his eyes. Wide and bright, easily mistakable for a cat’s as they flashed in the darkness; wild. Rabid. As he emerged fully with that infamous twisted grin splayed out on his face, you felt like a cornered animal; a deer in headlights. You froze, unable to move despite how your heart screamed at you to run as it pounded, trying to break free from your ribcage. 

“He’s here…” A mere whisper sliding over your tongue, so fragile that you weren’t even sure if you had actually said it aloud. Jason had heard it. 

“Who?” 

The Joker was circling you now, dragging out his strides in lazy circles. You should have fought but in that moment all of your training had drained out of you, along with the colour in your face. He smirked, leering down upon you as you tried to keep your trembling hand still. He pouted in mockery and at your silence, Jason repeated his question to you, but you never got the chance to respond. 

“Oh…Just an old friend, Jay-bird.”

“Joker.” Urging his body to move faster, Jason grit his teeth. 

Dick paled. “You leave them alone.” Dick spat. It tried to be a command, but the effect was lost somewhere in transmission.

The joker pursed his lips, tilting his head as he analysed. One of his hands had found his way to your jawline and he trailed it with a cold, gloved hand. You wanted to lean away, to run and find your brother but you knew that now he had you in his grasp there was no point in even trying. “And why would I do that? They’re right in front of me. I could just…snatch them up.”

“Don’t you dare!” Dick was frightened now. “Y/N, you stay there as long as you can, okay? You fight. We’re coming, you hear?”

The Joker frowned at you. “D’you hear that? Big brother birdy coming to the rescue. How sweet.”

His grip on you tightened. “Too bad you’ll be long gone by the time they get here.”

With one swift motion, he had thrown you harshly to the side, your head colliding with the wall with a sickening crack. 

The two boys skidded to a halt just a second too late. You were already gone. 

~

Your head hurt when you woke up. Your eyes squinted against the sterile light. They did no favours to your pounding headache. With a groan, you tried to twist, to roll over and soothe the crook in your neck but instead all that happened was the jinging of a metal chain. You craned your head and spotted the thick chain that had been wrapped around your wrist, confining you to the chair. Struggling, you tugged on them, trying to free yourself only for them to rattle and scrape against your skin. 

“Yeah, that’s not going anywhere, birdy.” The joker chided.

You glared at him through narrowed eyes, trying to mask the thumping of your heart. The joker grinned wildly at your frightened complexion. 

“It was such a shame that Grayson and Todd didn’t get to you in time, but it was far too easy to catch you, little bird: you completely froze.” He snapped his fingers to emphasise his point. “Didn’t batsy teach you better?”

“Don’t talk about them.” You snapped. 

The joker raised his hands, palms facing toward you in surrender: taunting you as if you were the one with the power in the situation. “Touchy subject I see. Too bad.” 

He gestured above you to an incessantly blinking light. “Smile for the camera, you’re live.”

~

Babs had been monitoring the street cameras when the computer beside her flickered to life. She had been searching for any sign of you ever since Dick and Jason came flying through the grandfather clock. Everyone was on edge. 

The moment the screen flashed on, her eyes perked up to watch it, alarmed. She hadn’t turned it on. And there were very few people who could bypass the caves system. So when she saw a small frame curled up in a chair she knew immediately what was up. 

“Duke…” she called to the dark haired boy who was trying to help decipher your whereabouts. “Go and get B.” 

It did not take long at all for everyone to gather around in the cave. Duke was fast, and everyone dropped what they were doing to race down: even Alfred had taken his leave from his duties to see. 

It was almost like some sick irony because as soon as they were all there, you began to scream. A guttering, perfect scream that cut that through them like a knife: unclean and pinging into them messily again and again. 

The joker had taken a knife to your left thigh, his smile dripping with malice as he watched the camera, somehow knowing that at least one of them would be watching. 

Your face was contorted in pain, twisting in agony as tears rolled flatly down your cheeks from fearful eyes. Damian felt sick, his stomach churning. Jason wanted to leave. But all of them were stuck watching. Barbra was tapping away, trying to locate the signal from the video to no avail. 

“I hope you’re watching this Batsy…” He moved round to trail your face with the edge of the knife. You whimpered. “I’ve got your little bird here and I must say, you need to work on their training. They were far too easy to catch.”

Bruce felt his jaw tightening and Tim had to place a hand on his arm to remind him of his place. 

“Anyway I thought we would play a little game… how long can little y/n survive for. I wonder if it’ll be any longer than our very own Jason Todd.”

Jason twitched. 

“I’m testing you here, Bat. Tick Tock.”

The transmission cut to black. 

~

It seemed hopeless. Even though they had been searching for days, they were no closer to finding you. And to make matters worse, they could see you. Not long after the first transition ended did it start up again. It had been lifestreaming since then, and although they had tried to block it from their minds, it was hard to ignore. Especially when your agonised screams ricocheted throughout the halls. 

You looked like hell. Dark bags occluded under your eyes and there wasn’t an inch of your skin that wasn’t marred or stained with drying blood. The burns were worse. Damian could still hear the scream you let out when the joker first brought the hot poker to your skin. It had bubbled and blistered as the skin peeled away; you had thrashed against your restraints violently. Tim was certain that they were going to get infected if they didn’t reach you soon. 

It felt as if they had searched everywhere. Dick and Jason had even asked around to see if anyone had heard anything, going as far to talk to the Jokers closest associates in Arkham, but even if they did know, nobody said anything. Duke had even gone as far to go back to the area to use his powers to see if he could trace anything, but nothing seemed out of place; they had hit a brick wall. That was…until a small light appeared on the monitor. Babs had managed to trace the signal to a small building on the outskirts of the city. 

They were suited up in minutes, making a beeline for the building. They stormed it, recklessly taking down the Joker's goons before Batman chased wildly after the Joker, his face stony and his fists burning with anger. The other four boys chased down the winding corridors, flinging open the doors until they found one that was locked. Tim wasted no time, picking the lock with ease he peeled it open. His breath hitched when he saw you. 

Your face was gaunt, hanging low by your chest. Your suit was torn and there was less of it on your body than there was ripped away. You looked so fragile as your chest heaved sporadically. 

Jason nearly had to take a step back. This place reminded himself too much of his own encounter with the Joker not too long ago. But he pressed forward, fighting his instincts. He had to be strong. Instead of turning back, he kneeled in front of you, whispering your name. His hand came up to cup your face. You flinched away. 

“It’s okay kid. It’s us.” He tried to reassure you, but you shrank back into yourself. 

“We’re so, so sorry kiddo.” Dick tried placing a gentle hand on your arm before moving to work on the cuffs around your wrists. “We’re going to get you out.”

You said nothing, just continued to stare at the black space before you, and Dami wasn’t sure if you even knew they were in front of you. But when Jason moved away from you to help remove your restraints, your fingers latched onto him and you squeaked in protest. 

He sighed shakily. “Don’t worry kid. I’m not going anywhere.”

Damian twisted from where he was guarding the door. “We need to leave.”

Dick nodded bluntly, finishing with the last of the locks. “I’m going to have to pick you up, okay sweetheart?”

You barely registered what he had said. Everything had grown numb, you nodded anyhow. Moving his arms underneath your legs and slipping one arm behind your back, Jason began to lift you. He nearly recoiled when you cried and whimpered with the way your wounds jostled as he sprinted out of the building to get you back to safety. 

~

You were yet to say anything since you came home. You had been back a few days and your wounds were healing up nicely thanks to Alfred’s handywork, but the air was eerily silent around you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been communicating with them; you spoke to them with gestures or writing but no one was used to not hearing your voice. The stark contrast between your loud and bustling personality and you now was unsettling. No one wanted to push you too far but the manor was beginning to grow lonely. 

It was one particularly rainy night when you finally spoke.  You were curled up in a large armchair by the window in the library, sinking back into the plush leather as you watched the raindrops race down the glass. Jason had been watching you from afar, contemplating whether to talk to you or not when he walked over. 

“What are you up to?” He asked you, making sure you knew that he was there before he spoke. 

You gestured toward the window,then to the half opened book at your feet and shrugged. 

“I see.” He nodded, taking a seat on the armchair opposite you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Jason wasn’t much of a talker. He knew more than anyone what you were going through, which was why it was nice just to know that he was willing to sit with you, just so you knew that he was there if you needed him. It made you feel safe. But you also couldn’t help but feel guilty, and frustrated with yourself for being in a place that made him feel as though he had to do that. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. 

Jason had to do a second take. His heart swelled. “What for?”

You sighed. “This. When I saw him…i-i froze. If I had run then this would never have happened.”

“Shh. This isn’t your fault.”

“But-”

“I promise, Kid. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

You nodded, looking away from him. But then you furrowed your brows and turned back to him. “How did you do it? How did you deal with this, Jay? Every time I close my eyes he’s there.”

“I guess I don’t, really. Or sometimes it feels like I don’t. I still get scared sometimes. I still see him in my dreams. But over time it gets easier. I had people around me to help me. And so do you, kid. We’re here. We’ll always be here.”

Jason shifted to brush away a rogue tear and you leaned into his touch and then wrapped your arms tightly around his middle. 

“I’m here. Always. We’ll get through this together.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[artdcnaldson]

smutty patrick +art +reader request!!!! ->

smut where both patrick &y/n r dominant and are constantly competing against eachother with who makes art cum faster/moan louder LOL☺️☺️☺️ patrick is like a rougher dom and reader is softer and she keeps praising art while patrick IS SUCH A MEANIEEEEE but he also loves art too obv(and reader). UGH i love them

HEHEHEHE <3

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT!! Threesome ft. Dom!Patrick, Soft!Dom Reader, Sub!Art, handjob, blowjob, ruined orgasm

A/N: god tier request, truly. something possessed me when I wrote this

Art Donaldson had never looked prettier than he did in that moment. The thin sheen of sweat that made his skin glisten, the pretty flush that burned pink down to his chest.

His back was pressed to your chest, your arms wrapped around him soothingly. It was the perfect angle to watch all the ways Patrick was torturing your sweet boy.

His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath— each exhale shuddery and rough. You pet his hair, brushing soft curls out of his eyes.

“How are you, baby?” You asked softly, teasingly. “Is Patrick being too mean?”

He shook his head, the muscles of his abdomen flexing as Patrick’s hand moved faster and faster. A strangled moan slipped past his lips, eyes squeezing shut as Patrick brought him closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m just doing what he asked,” Patrick said with a grin. The sounds of his hand was slick as it moved up and down on the blond’s cock.. “He wanted me to touch him, and I’m touching him.”

You pressed a soothing kiss to his jaw and grinned down at Patrick. The brunet was a co-conspirator in the agonizing, delicious torture you put Art’s poor body through. You were just nicer about it.

“Close,” Art whimpered, his lips spit slick and bitten pink. “I— fuck— I’m close”

Patrick smirked like the cat who got the cream, but you just ran a soothing hand over the plane of his chest, teasing his nipples, making him whine pitifully.

“Yeah, baby? You’re close, huh?” Your teeth tugged slightly at his earlobe and he moaned, loud and pretty. “Be polite and ask Patrick if you can cum.”

Patrick’s hand didn’t let up— slick and relentless. He raised an eyebrow expectantly and Art nearly sobbed.

“Please—“ was all Art could manage.

“Please, what, Donaldson? You’re a big boy, you know how to ask the right way.”

He groaned, shifting so he could squirm away from Patrick’s relentless touch. It was futile, though. Art was strong, but with your legs pinning his thighs and Patrick’s hand slung across the blond’s torso, all he could do was take it.

“Lemme cum— please let me cum,” he was practically begging, eyes shining with crocodile tears. It was so fucking cute. You wished your camera was nearby so you could’ve snapped a picture of how desperate he’d gotten.

Patrick met your gaze and smiled, like he’d just gotten the best fucking idea in the world. “Okay, baby,” he said in an unusually gentle voice. “You can cum.”

You could feel Art’s heart hammering against your palm, the surprise evident in his eyes.

“Hurry before Pat changes his mind, yeah?” You cooed in his ear. He nodded, face scrunched slightly as Patrick brought him closer and closer to finishing.

And god, Art could get loud. He had his tells here, just like in tennis. As soon as he went silent, you knew he was right on the precipice, ready to tumble over.

The second Art’s orgasm hit, Patrick moved his hand off of him completely. It was different than it usually was— Art was always messy. He’d shoot ropes of thick cum up to his chest, or his face if he was particularly backed up.

But then, he just whimpered pathetically as cum oozed out of his tip, leaving a puddle at the base of his cock. And— holy fuck— he stayed hard.

Art practically sobbed, his head lolling back against your shoulder. Tears of frustration welled in his pretty blue eyes. “What the fuck, Patrick?” He groaned pathetically.

“What the fuck did you do?” You asked with wide eyes.

Patrick sat back and shrugged, wearing a shit-eating grin. “I saw someone do it in a porn. He got to cum, he just didn’t get the good part.”

“Switch spots,” you said quickly. Patrick let you settle between Art’s thighs, eye level with his aching cock. It was red at the tip, aching for a real release.

When you wrapped a hand around him, he whimpered and squirmed in an attempt to escape the stimulation.

“You good, baby?” You asked, pressing your lips to his thigh.

Before Art could respond, Patrick sighed. “Stop babying him— he’s fine.”

You met Art’s gaze, and he gave a tiny nod. His chest was heaving as he drew breath after shaky breath.

The mess of cum surrounding his base made each slick pass of your hand sound pornographic. Almost as debauched as the whimpers and moans that were escaping Art’s lips.

“Mmm… fuck, fuck— ah!” Like a goddamn pornstar.

“Shhh… let me clean up the mess Patrick made, yeah?”

You pressed a soft kiss to his tip, and his thighs twitched with the need to buck into the warmth of your lips. Your mouth trailed down, peppering the hard length of him with wet, slow kisses. You could taste his release, salty on your tongue.

“Jesus, baby— please—“ Art, desperate and wanting, was your favorite thing in the world. Besides maybe Patrick, desperate and wanting in a completely opposite way.

“Quit whining, Art, or she’s gonna stop.” Patrick murmured in the blond’s ear. You could already see a collection of red spots on Art’s throat that would turn into bruises.

You definitely weren’t going to stop. You loved every single depraved noise you could wring out of him. You took mercy on him, easing his sensitive cock into the wet warmth of your mouth.

You’re too soft on him. He likes when you make him work for it. You could hear Patrick’s complaints already.

It didn’t matter. You liked taking care of your boy.

He pulsed against your tongue as you took him deeper, his thighs tensing where your hands rested against him. He bucked slightly, brushing the back of your throat. When you gagged around him, he made the same whimpery noise that he made on the tennis courts.

“Tell her thank you,” Patrick said in Art’s ear.

You moaned softly around Art’s length as you felt Patrick’s fingers grip onto your hair, guiding your mouth up and down, faster and faster.

“Art, I’ll make her stop. Say thank you.” Patrick’s voice was firm, no trace of any sympathy. The same way he’d bark corrections that Art needed to make when they practiced together.

“Thank you,“ Art gasped out, like it took all the effort in the world. Patrick used his free hand to rake his nails over Art’s abs, and the blond cried out and bucked into your throat. “Fuck—“

You knew he was close to finishing— still so pent up from the orgasm that Patrick had ruined for him. So sensitive that it wouldn’t take much more effort to have him spilling onto your tongue.

You pulled off slowly, jerking him off with slow, firm strokes. “You wanna cum, baby?” You asked, lips just brushing the sensitive head of his cock.

“Yes! God, need t’ cum so bad,” he cried, desperate and aching for release.

“Jesus, you’re fuckin’ greedy, Art,” Patrick goaded. The hand that was in your hair had moved to your cheek, where he stroked along your skin sweetly. “You think you deserve it?”

“Yes, you asshole,” Art groaned. Patrick laughed, a smile spreading across his lips. You raised a brow, looking at the brunet expectantly for permission. He nodded and you smiled.

“Go on, baby, I’ve got you,” you said, hand moving faster. “I won’t be mean, I’ll let you get what you need.”

He cried out as he finished, painting your tongue with thick spurts of cum. You worked him through it, taking every drop he could offer you, until the feeling of your touch became too much.

“Don’t swallow, c’mere,” Patrick said. You joined him at the top of the bed, kissing him deeply, passing Art’s cum between your mouths with slow laves of your tongues against each other.

Art whined, reaching for your faces, wanting you to include him. Patrick leaned down, kissing him deeply, so he could taste the efforts of both of your attentions. You leaned in, tongue brushing Patrick’s, and Art’s, and you felt warmth flutter in your chest.

“You’re too nice to him,” Patrick said after he pulled away. “I would’ve made him beg for it.”

thank you for readinggggg <3 this was so fun to write 😁🩵

[iris-qt]

𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗

ᴘᴛ. ɪɪ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴅɪꜱᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ

ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

❆ ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍɪᴄ ʀɪᴠᴀʟꜱ | 3.6ᴋ

❆ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱɴᴏᴡᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʀᴏᴏᴍꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴄᴀʀᴄᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ʙʀᴏᴏᴍꜱᴛɪᴄᴋꜱ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴꜱ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ᴏɴᴇ…?

Fate was indeed quite cruel for you and Theodore Nott

Fate? Or just an incredibly annoying best friend named Mattheo Riddle?

The Slytherin common room was unusually quiet that evening, the typical crackle of fire and hushed whispers replaced by a tense stillness as the storm howled outside. The wind battered the windows, sending flakes of snow spiraling in every direction. Inside, though, the four friends had finally returned from their little excursion to the Three Broomsticks, all of them dripping wet and looking far too pleased with themselves.

Mattheo Riddle collapsed into an armchair by the fire, his usual smirk more of a self-satisfied grin. “Well, well, well. That was absolutely perfect.”

Draco Malfoy, having shed his wet cloak and settled by the fire, shot him a glare. “Perfect? Are you out of your mind? We were spying on them. They’ll kill us when they find out.”

Pansy Parkinson kicked her booths off and flopped onto the couch with an exaggerated sigh. “They’re practically made for each other.”

“Yeah, a match made in sarcasm and tension,” Blaise Zabini chimed in, lowering himself onto the armrest beside her. “But I have to admit, y/n’s got Nott wrapped around her finger.”

Mattheo chuckled, leaning back and crossing his arms. “See? I told you. It was destiny. The universe wanted this.”

“Destiny?” Draco scoffed. “This was a disaster waiting to happen. Those two will never get along. They’re like oil and water.”

“You’re forgetting one important detail,” Pansy said, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “They’re both annoyingly competitive. They’ll keep each other on their toes.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing,” Draco muttered, eyeing Mattheo. “You do realize we’ve practically pushed them into a blizzard together, right? They’re going to be stuck in that pub for the rest of the night. There’s only so much avoiding each other they can do.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow, glancing toward the window where the storm raged outside. “It’s really coming down out there. I bet they’re already stuck in that pub for a while.”

“Good,” Mattheo said smugly. “That’s exactly what they need. The whole ‘forced proximity’ thing works wonders, trust me.”

“Uh-huh,” Draco said skeptically, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “And when they start throwing punches instead of witty remarks? What then?”

“You don’t think they’ll, you know, talk about their feelings, do you?” Mattheo asked, smirking.

“Talk about their feelings?” Blaise scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Theodore Nott and y/n y/l/n? The only feelings they’ll share are how much they loathe each other.”

Pansy raised her cup of tea, a wicked grin on her face. “To Theo and y/n. May they finally see what we’ve known all along: they’re perfect for each other.”

“Here, here!” Mattheo toasted, holding up his own mug. “No way they’re escaping this. Not unless they manage to hex each other into oblivion first.”

Blaise chuckled. “I’d pay good money to see that.”

They all fell into a comfortable silence, the fire crackling as they relaxed in the warmth of the common room, the storm howling just beyond the walls of the castle. Outside, Theo and y/n remained trapped in the Three Broomsticks.

The winds rattled the window panes of the cozy little pub.

As if getting stuck with the bane of his existence for a few hours wasn’t torturous enough, kind Madam Rosmerta, who Theodore was beginning to suspect was secretly evil, decided to share some unfortunate news regarding available rooms…

Madam Rosmerta gave them a sympathetic smile, her hands clasped tightly around a steaming mug. “I’m afraid there’s only one room left upstairs, dears. The others were taken by travelers when the storm started picking up.”

Your head snapped toward Theo, your jaw already tightening. “One room?” you repeated, voice sharp.

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. “Of course, it’s one room. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Rosmerta glanced between them, clearly trying to gauge if a fight was about to break out. “It’s got a big bed and a cozy fire. You’ll be warm, at least.”

“Great,” You said, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Warmth will really help when I’ve been murdered by morning.”

Theo crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Don’t flatter yourself. If anyone’s at risk here, it’s me.”

Rosmerta sighed, her patience wearing thin. “Look, I’m offering it as a courtesy. If you’d rather sit out here all night with the cold drafts and creaky chairs, be my guest.”

You shot Theo a glare. “Fine. But if you snore, I’m hexing you into next week.”

Theo smirked, grabbing his trench coat from the chair. “And if you start ranting about Potions essays at midnight, I’m jumping out the window.”

With a heavy sigh, you followed him toward the stairs, muttering under your breath about “the worst night ever.”

Rosmerta chuckled to herself, shaking her head. “Young love,” she murmured, returning to the bar.

...

The door creaked open, revealing a small but warm room. A crackling fireplace cast flickering light across the wooden walls, the flames throwing shadows onto a quilt-covered bed nestled against the far corner. A single armchair, worn but inviting, sat by the hearth, and a rug that looked as though it had been knitted decades ago lay sprawled on the floor. 

Theo stepped in first, his sharp gaze flicking around the room. It was simple and unremarkable, yet the warmth from the fireplace immediately softened the icy tension that clung to his shoulders. He tugged off his gloves, tossing them onto the chair before brushing the snow from his sleeves.

“Cozy,” he muttered, though the word carried a hint of sarcasm. He glanced over his shoulder at you, lingering in the doorway, expression hovering somewhere between annoyance and reluctant acceptance.

“Cozy,” you echoed flatly, eyes landing on the single bed. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Classic.

You huffed, stepping further inside and dropping your bag onto the floor with a thud. “I’ll take the chair,” you declared, pointing toward the armchair by the fire.

Theo snorted, shaking his head. “Good luck sleeping in that thing. You’ll be begging for the bed by midnight.”

“And you’ll be sleeping on the floor by morning if you keep talking,” you shot back, unbuttoning your coat with stiff, jerky movements.

Theo didn’t respond, instead shrugging off his trench coat and hanging it neatly on the back of the chair. He busied himself with the fire for a moment, adding another log and stirring the embers. The room grew even warmer, the heat seeping into his cold hands.

When he turned back, you had pulled off your scarf, revealing flushed cheeks and a few stray snowflakes still clinging to your hair. He watched as you brushed them away absently, the gesture oddly... endearing.

He frowned, shaking off the thought. “You should take the bed,” he said abruptly, the words surprising even himself.

You blinked, turning to him with suspicion. “What?”

“The bed,” he repeated, his tone more clipped this time. “You’ll be unbearable tomorrow if you don’t get any sleep.”

Your eyebrows lifted, and for a moment, he thought you were going to argue. But then you sighed, the fight draining out. “Fine. But don’t complain when you’re stiff and miserable in the morning.”

Theo smirked faintly, grabbing the blanket from the armchair. “I’ve survived worse than a night on the floor, y/l/n. Don’t flatter yourself.”

As he spread the blanket out by the fire, he caught himself glancing at you again. Your expression had softened slightly, your usual sharp edges dulled by the firelight. You didn’t look quite as insufferable now, standing there with your arms crossed and brow furrowed in thought.

…

The wind howled outside as Theo paced the room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Meanwhile, you were glaring daggers at the small, frosted window in the corner, where an icy draft was sneaking through a crooked frame.

“Are you going to do something about that?” you asked, rubbing your arms.

Theo shot you an incredulous look. “Do I look like a handyman to you?”

“Well, you’re the one with the pureblood superiority complex,” you quipped. “Surely fixing a window is beneath my ‘mudblood’ capabilities.”

Theo’s jaw tightened, but then he smirked. “Fine. Stand back. Watch and learn.”

You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall as Theo strode toward the window with unbelievable confidence for someone who had never fixed a thing in his life. He fiddled with the latch, muttering under his breath.

“Step one,” he announced grandly, “assess the problem.”

“You’re narrating this?” you deadpanned.

“Step two,” Theo continued, ignoring you, “apply logical reasoning and brute force.” He yanked on the window frame.

It didn’t budge.

“You’re going to break it,” you warned, suppressing a grin.

“I’m improving it,” Theo shot back. He gave the window another tug, and the whole frame groaned ominously.

With a loud crack, a chunk of ice dislodged from the outside and tumbled onto Theo’s foot.

You burst out laughing, doubling over as Theo hopped on one leg, muttering curses.

“Step three,” you said between gasps for air, “check if the window is laughing at you because I’m pretty sure it is.”

“Oh, you think you’re so clever,” Theo said, shooting you a glare as he hobbled back to the chair.

“Well, obviously I wouldn’t use brute force,” you said smugly, grabbing a blanket from the bed. “Here. Let me show you how it’s done.”

Theo watched with exaggerated skepticism as you climbed onto the chair, draping the blanket over the frame and tucking it into the edges. “Voilà!” you declared triumphantly, stepping back. “No more draft.”

The blanket immediately sagged and slid to the floor, letting the icy wind back in.

Theo barked a laugh, clapping slowly. “Brilliant. Truly groundbreaking work, y/l/n.”

“Oh, shut up!” you snapped, grabbing the blanket and tossing it at him.

Still laughing, Theo caught it and stood. “Move. You’re terrible at this.”

He stepped closer to the window, brushing past you. This time, instead of pulling or yanking, he gently adjusted the frame and tucked the blanket into the top corners, muttering charms under his breath to secure it in place.

When he finished, the draft was gone, and the room suddenly felt warmer.

“There,” he said smugly, turning to face you. “Step four: call in the expert.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the tiny smile tugging at your lips. “Fine. You win this round, Nott.”

“I always do,” he replied, his voice quieter now, almost teasing.

For a moment, the bickering subsided, and they stood there by the now secured window. The firelight flickered across their faces, and you glanced up at him, noticing for the first time how soft his smirk could look when it wasn’t accompanied by an insult.

“Thanks,” you said, surprising both of them.

Theo shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching into something dangerously close to a smile. “Don’t mention it. Or actually, do. Preferably to everyone we know.”

And just like that, the moment passed, but the warmth lingered.

The wind howled outside, but the warmth of the fire in the room kept things cozy…except for one thing: the floor. Theo sat cross-legged by the hearth, his arms wrapped around himself as he gave the ground an occasional glare.

“This is a crime against my back,” he muttered under his breath, trying to get comfortable but only managing to shift in place every few seconds.

You glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re still complaining about the floor?”

“It’s not the floor, it’s the principle of the floor,” Theo said with a dramatic sigh. “The suffering of it.” He adjusted his position for the fifteenth time, finally giving up and lying flat on his back.

“Poor Theo. The floor is too hard for your delicate aristocratic back,” you teased, pulling out a bag of crisps from your bag.

Theo shot you a look but didn’t respond, instead reaching for the nearby blanket. His stomach, however, had other ideas, gurgling loudly enough to make you look over with a raised, slightly concerned eyebrow.

“Hungry, are we?”

“I’m fine,” Theo said defensively, as if his stomach hadn’t just betrayed him.

You held up the packet of crisps. “Well, I have snacks.” You shook the bag temptingly.

“Ugh, crisps?” Theo wrinkled his nose, but his stomach grumbled again, this time louder.

You smirked, leaning forward. “What’s the matter, Nott? Too simple for you?”

He glared at her, but his stomach won that round. “Fine. Give me one.”

You tossed him a chip, and Theo inspected it like it was a cursed artifact. He took a small bite, making an exaggerated face. “It’s like chewing on nothing.”

“Is that so?” you asked, unimpressed. “Maybe you’re just not sophisticated enough for the finer things in life.”

Theo rolled his eyes, grabbing another chip. “Finer things? It’s a bag of plain crisps, not an heirloom from my great-grandfather’s collection.”

“Well, sorry for not carrying around caviar in my school bag,” you replied dryly, reclining back onto the bed.

Theo ignored you, popping another chip in his mouth. “You know, I expected something better,” he muttered. “This is barely edible.”

You snorted. “You’re so picky. Can’t believe I’m wasting my high-class snacks on you.”

Theo rolled his eyes, grabbing another crisp. “High-class? It’s a bag of crisps, not some exclusive delicacy.”

“Just eat the damn crisps, Nott,” you laughed, tossing him another.

Theo sighed dramatically. “Fine. It’s not like I have a choice.” He slowly chewed the next chip, making an exaggerated show of tasting it.

“Is it really that bad?” you asked, barely hiding your smile.

“Look, I’m just saying… if I were to critique the flavor,” Theo began, licking his lips as if in thought, “I’d say it’s… offensive. Lacking a certain je ne sais quoi.”

You rolled your eyes so hard you nearly fell off the bed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. It’s potato chips, not fine wine.”

Theo gave you an insufferable smile. “Exactly why I can’t trust you with snack recommendations.”

You picked up another bag from your bag, this one chocolate-covered pretzels. “You want to try these, too, Mr. Refined?”

Theo cautiously took one, studying it like it might explode. He bit into it, then paused, his eyes widening a fraction. “Okay, this is actually… tolerable.”

“Tolerable?” you grinned. “Are you really that hard to please, or are you just trying to be difficult?”

Theo shifted again on the floor, finally conceding defeat to the uncomfortable surface. “The floor is awful,” he muttered, as if the snacks were the only thing keeping him sane at this point.

You give him a slightly sympathetic look.

The two of them sat in companionable silence for a moment, Theo stuffing pretzels into his mouth like he was trying to make up for lost time. You finally cracked a smile, glancing over at him.

“You know, for a picky snob, you’re not terrible,” you said, the teasing tone light.

Theo swallowed his pretzel, his expression serious as he looked at you. “You’re not the worst company either, y/l/n.”

It was the closest thing to a compliment he’d given you, and though it was seemingly wrapped in sarcasm, you couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll take it.”

…

The fire crackled softly in the corner, casting long shadows across the room. Theo had long since stopped pretending the floor wasn’t absolute torture to sit on. His posture was slumped, his legs stretched awkwardly in front of him as he tried to find some position that didn’t make his back ache.

You, who had long since claimed the bed and made yourself comfortable, glanced over at him. He was practically squirming, his face a mix of annoyance and defeat, and you couldn’t help but stifle a smile.

“You okay there?” you asked, your voice light but with just a hint of genuine concern.

Theo shot you a look. “Oh, I’m fantastic. Just living my best life on this luxurious floor.”

You raised an eyebrow, sitting up in bed. “You don’t look very fantastic to me.”

“Thanks for the observation,” he muttered, glancing at the bed and then back at the floor. I’m just fine,” he added with a dismissive wave.

You studied him for a moment. Despite his usual bravado, there was something about the way he was holding himself, like he couldn’t quite escape the discomfort. His jaw was tight, and his hand kept fidgeting with the edge of his shirt.

A thought crossed your mind, and for once, maybe showing some kindness to Nott wouldn’t hurt. You swung your legs off the bed and stood up, walking over to where Theo was sitting with an exaggerated sigh.

“Get up,” you said, holding out a hand.

Theo stared at it like it was some sort of foreign object. “What?”

“I’m not going to let you suffer on the floor like that. It’s ridiculous.”

Theo opened his mouth to argue but then seemed to think better of it. After a moment of hesitation, he reluctantly took your hand and let you pull him to his feet. He winced slightly as he stood, stretching his stiff legs.

Theo hesitated but eventually sat down on the edge of the bed, his back to you as he adjusted the position of his legs. He wasn’t quite comfortable yet, but the soft mattress was a welcome change from the floor.

“I still don’t know why you’re being nice to me,” Theo mumbled, not looking at you.

“Because I’m not entirely evil,” you teased with a little laugh, sitting back down beside him.

There was a pause as Theo’s watercolor eyes flicked to you, then away. He glanced at the small couch across the room that was far less comfortable than the bed but was still an option. He wasn’t entirely ready to admit that he liked the idea of staying near you for a while…

Finally, he sighed, and, almost begrudgingly, moved further onto the bed, pulling his legs up to sit cross-legged beside you.

You watched him, noting the way his usual air of self-assurance was slightly dropped. It was strange to see him like this…vulnerable, not in control. and for some reason, it made him more… approachable.

“See? This is better,” you said with a teasing grin, glancing over at him.

Theo, still half-pretending to be indifferent, couldn’t quite hide the faintest hint of a smile. “Yeah, well… I guess it’s not the worst thing in the world.”

The tension between them softened even further. For a long moment, neither of them said anything, just listening to the crackling fire and the sound of their own breathing. Theo, surprisingly, was the first to break the silence.

“Thanks,” he murmured, almost under his breath.

You blinked, glancing at him with mild surprise. “For what?”

“For… not leaving me to sleep on the floor like some kind of peasant,” Theo said, his voice light but sincere.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re really something, you know that?”

Theo shrugged, but his smile was genuine now. “I try.”

For a moment, they just sat there, quietly, but the air between them had changed. The teasing, the banter, the barbs…they were still there, but there was something softer now, something that wasn’t just about annoyance or putting each other down.

Theo’s thoughts drifted for a moment, and he realized, in a way that made his chest tighten a little, that this wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. In fact, this moment, this strange and unexpected peace with you, was… nice.

And maybe, just maybe, he’d like to stick around a little longer.

The Morning After

The room was bathed in soft morning light, the snow outside blanketing the world in a peaceful silence. 

Theo woke slowly, his eyelids heavy, the quiet of the room wrapping around him like a comfort he didn’t expect. The fire had long since gone out, but the warmth from the bed kept the cold at bay. He shifted, and that’s when he realized.

 His arm was around you. 

Your head rested against his chest, your hair slightly tousled, hand curled loosely over his side. The weight of you, the steady rise and fall of your breathing, was surprisingly soothing.

Theo didn’t want to move. Ever. He stayed still. He could feel your warmth seeping into him, and it made something in his chest tighten in the most unexpected way. He wasn’t uncomfortable; in fact, he felt… content.

You stirred in your sleep, nuzzling closer without realizing, your fingers twitching against his chest. Your soft breath brushed against his neck, and Theo’s heart did a funny little jump. He smiled quietly to himself, the kind of smile that didn’t feel like a defense or a mask but just a simple, genuine reaction.

He didn’t pull away. Instead, he let his fingers gently brush against your hair, the motion instinctive, as if he’d done it a thousand times. It was a small gesture, but it felt like a promise of something soft, something unexpected.

You sighed in your sleep, face relaxing further against him, and for a moment, Theo thought he had died and gone to heaven. His arm tightened ever so slightly around your waist, as if he were holding on to something precious. something he didn’t want to let go of.

He let out a soft breath, closing his eyes again, the quiet peace wrapping around him like a warm blanket. Maybe he wasn’t as good at pretending as he thought. Maybe, just maybe, he’d found something worth holding on to.

pt. 3 here <3

Taglist: @lazycrazyme, @lovrsm, @minhlajenni, @rafeluvrr,

(ty for the comments and support!!)

[multific]

The City of Rome at Your Feet

Emperor Geta x Reader

Warnings: hint of insanity (a lot), spoilers for the movie, blood, soft mention of smut

Summary: It was always about the pleasures of the body. But your soul was happiest just around him.

Two souls have never been more intervened.

It was almost frightening.

How can two people be meant for each other so much?

They weren’t much different. Both wicked in their own ways.

Geta being the loud Emperor, while you remained the quiet Empress.

Same temper, same goals and the same love for violence.

You just expressed yourself differently.

You being a lady, were elegant and enticing.

Your marriage was only a wish. A wish which came true.

You prayed to the Gods, hoping for a husband who is just like you.

And you met the Emperors.

Caracalla enjoyed your wit and even if you weren't blood related, called you sister. But Geta enjoyed you as a woman and ordered you to marry him.

You had no choice but to accept.

You never expected for your marriage to turn into such greatness.

It was a marriage filled with fire and blood.

A love filled with passion and power.

And each night, not only your bodies but your souls also melted into one.

You noticed as time kept going on, slowly, the lines between you and Geta slowly blurred.

When Acacius returned from yet another victory. You stood by your husband.

"Emperor Geta, Emperor Caracalla, Empress Y/N." he greeted you as you looked at him, his words failed to get to you after that.

All that you remember is heading back into the palace then Acacius' words finally reached your ears.

"My wife has many subjects. She has to feed them." Acacius said and you looked at him.

Caracalla spoke up before you could.

"And you suggest my sister is not doing a proper job of that?" your eyes snapped at Acacius, who looked at you with regret in his eyes.

"I hope your wife will be able to come and join us for the games tomorrow. I appreciate she is busy with her... subjects, but I don't see why she won't be able to join us."

Caracalla laughed and your eyes never moved from Marcus instead, you took a step closer to him.

"In case you forgot who you were talking to, Marcus." you finished and raised your cup. The man nodded.

---

You enjoyed Gladiator games as much as the next person.

Watching men fight for honour and freedom. It was truly magneficent.

Marcus and his wife were also present after Marcus' lovely speech, you felt a dark presence.

The row behind you were making plans.

But you were a step ahead. Watching Lucilla look at the new Gladiator, Hanno.

You tilted your head and smirked.

You will have some fun with those three.

Your husband squeezes your hand as you turned and smiled at him.

Later that evening, you sent word, asking a guard to report to you as soon as someone visits the new Gladiator.

And someone did.

Lucilla.

You smiled.

"My Love! So happy today?"

"Of course I am. I just found out something very interesting."

"Dare to share?" he grabbed your waist and pulled you close.

"Maybe later, once I have it all laid out."

"I would like to lay you out right now." he moved his head into your neck and started biting your neck.

---

Your husband was yelling, you looked at the traitors in front of you.

"Torture me, but do not lecture me." you smiled at Marcus' words.

"You two are truly stupid." you spoke up and everyone in the room looked at you. "You thought you could save him. Your beloved son. Lucius? Is that his name? You are truly foolish."

"What are you talking about?" asked Lucilla.

"He's dead. Killed him myself." you watched as both looked at you in disbelief.

Then a guard walked out with a head on a plate.

"The same fate Macrinus wished for my husband." You turned to the man sitting on the bench while Lucilla broke down and Marcus moved. "Silly man." with one movement you stepped out of the way as the guards brought him to the floor.

"I wonder how the people of Rome will think of their beloved General once they learn how he attached their Empress. In her sleep none the less. Snuck in and tried to kill her. Sent by his wife, who wished to rule."

"You-" but Marcus couldn't finish his sentence as he was dragged away along with his wife and Macrinus.

"Sister, you are something else truly!" Caracalla laughed and you grabbed a knife and a silver plate, looking at yourself, you cut along your neck. "Genius!" Caracalla continued.

"Why did you have to do that?" Geta rushed over to you, worried as he put his hand on your bleeding neck.

"Proof to the people of my attack. Oh, Geta I was so worried! He came out of nowhere! Hiding in the silk curtains, he told me Lucilla wanted to take my place! I was so scared." your eyes were shiny with tears as Geta shook his head and looked at you.

Caracalla left moments before, laughing still.

Geta watched you and he let out a long sigh. "How did you know?"

"Lucilla was so obvious I'm surprised not everyone noticed. As for Macrinus... I never liked him."

Geta let out a laugh, this is when the healer arrived to check out your neck and put bandages on it.

The next day, you watched Marcus fight and fail.

You managed to put on the show of a life time with your injury, the people of Rome had no reason not to believe you.

All they saw is a hurt poor woman, their Empress.

This not only earned you but also the Emperors sympathy as everyone chanted for Acacius' death.

You felt your husband move his arms around you, pulling you close.

Rome was yours.

Geta was yours and you were only his.

Gladiator II Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[melzula]

I JUMPED WHEN I SAW REQUESTS OPEN

zuko unintentionally saying something he doesn’t mean to reader (ex. ur clingy/annoying) and makes the reader like kinda distant cus they don’t wanna be annoying or clingy yk? then he comforts them and says sorry and it’s very much a angst to fluff moment!

a/n: i love this trope

summary: your sudden disappearance makes zuko reevaluate his behavior

The apartment is empty when Zuko returns from the tea shop. His bones ache from standing all day and his mood is sour from having to serve customers, but it doesn’t distract him from the fact that something is missing. The place feels dull and lacks its normal warmth, and the change unnerves him.

“It seems y/n has not yet returned home,” Iroh observes as he flicks on the lamps to rid the room of darkness.

“Where did she go?” Zuko murmurs, doing his best to mask his anxiety over your absence. It’s not like you to stay out late, especially considering your apartment isn’t exactly in one of the safer rings of Ba Sing Se, and it worries him.

“I’m not sure. She seemed to be in a hurry when she left this morning,” the older man recounts as he scans the room to look for any trace of her left behind. “She didn’t even have her morning tea!”

“She could be in danger. I’m going to search for her.”

“Would you like me to come with you?”

“No, one of us should stay here in case she comes back,” Zuko states before making his way out the door. “I don’t want her to come home to any empty apartment.”

“Be sure to watch your temper if you do find her, nephew. Y/n is struggling to adjust to this new life just as you are, and it is important you are patient with her.”

The Prince says nothing in response to his Uncle’s words, but he immediately feels the guilt and shame that they bring him. His warning serves as a reminder for his recent behavior, and Zuko is then able to figure out why you were nowhere to be found.

You’d been eating breakfast together that morning before he had to leave for work, and despite his irritable mood you seemed to be eager to start the day.

“I was thinking of visiting the market place to buy fresh groceries for dinner tonight. Maybe I could stop by the tea shop and bring lunch for you and your Uncle,” you suggested with a pleasant smile.

“Sure,” Zuko had grumbled in response before forcing another spoonful of bland porridge down his throat.

“And after dinner we can visit the fountain,” you had said with an excited smile. “I’d love to take a walk through the city and get some fresh air. We hardly ever leave the apartment.”

“This city is nothing but dirt. There’s nothing to see out there.”

“Oh,” you had murmured, your features deflating slightly at his negative comments. “I suppose you’re right. Maybe we can just stay in and play a game of pai sho instead. I’m not exactly sure how to play, but I bet you could teach me! It could be fun!”

“Don’t you ever get tired of hearing yourself speak?!” Zuko had finally snapped harshly, his patience finally having been worn thin by your ceaseless suggestions. He didn’t want to take a stroll or play pai sho or have any sort of fun, and he didn’t understand why you couldn’t get that. “This isn’t some little vacation. I failed to capture the Avatar and now we’re stuck here, do you understand? Go play pai sho with someone else.”

The room had grown deathly silent after Zuko’s outburst, and he was too annoyed to notice the way you kept your gaze glued firmly to the table to avoid him see the welling tears in your eyes. Without another word, you quietly excused yourself from the table and made your way out the door without an explanation or a goodbye. Zuko hadn’t seen you since.

“I’m such a jerk,” he curses himself as he roams the streets in search of you. You’re not in the market place and you’re not by the fountain, so where could you be? He’s beginning to worry, his mind conjuring up multiple scenarios where you’re in trouble and he can’t help you. It’s pure torture.

A familiar laugh floats through the air, and Zuko feels the hairs on his neck stand up at the soothing melody. He’s quick to follow the sound, and as he shoves his way through the crowded streets he finds himself coming to a stop at a small noodle shop. The shop is practically tucked into a corner and isn’t much to look at, but the inside is full of life as patrons eat and converse and enjoy the camaraderie. At the heart of the restaurant sits a table full of people focused on the game of pai sho before them, and at the center of the table you sit with a large grin and a white lotus tile in your hand.

“I can’t believe I won!” You exclaim with an excited clap of your hands before looking to the older woman sitting next to you. “Thank you so much for teaching me how to play. This is the most fun I’ve had in months!”

“Y/n?” Zuko calls, garnering the attention of you and your new friends at the table. The airy laughter and pleasantries die down at the sight of him and the room is suddenly filled with tension.

“Oh, hello, Lee,” you greet dully, your cheerful demeanor immediately disappearing when you make eye contact with the boy.

“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at home?”

“You said to go play pai sho with someone else, so that’s what I’m doing,” you state bluntly, and Zuko looks away guiltily after hearing his own words repeated back to him.

“Can you please just come home? You shouldn’t be out on the streets this late, it’s dangerous.”

“Why do you care?” You retort harshly. “I’m having fun here. These people actually want my company.”

“Y/n,” Zuko says with an irritated sigh, doing his best to remain patient. “Please. If not for me then for Uncle. He’s just as worried for your safety as I am.”

You hesitate at his words, but after a moment of contemplating you finally excuse yourself from the table. You bid your new friends goodbye and promise to return for another game sometime before following Zuko out of the restaurant and beginning your walk back home.

“The moon is out tonight,” he notes quietly in an attempt to make small talk, but you don’t reply. You keep your gaze forward and maintain a respectable distance from him as you walk. “Maybe I was wrong about this place.”

“Congratulations for figuring that out,” you retort sarcastically with a roll of your eyes. Having finally had enough, Zuko grabs your wrist to stop you in your tracks and force you to look at him.

“Y/n, please talk to me,” he begs earnestly. “I feel horrible for what I’ve done.”

“Good, you should feel bad!” You exclaim angrily, harshly yanking your hand away from him. “You’ve been nothing but a jerk since we got to Ba Sing Se, and now that I’m finally giving you the space that you wanted you come and ruin my fun!”

“I don’t want space from you,” he insists desperately. “I was being an idiot! Y/n, I didn’t mean any of what I said. I was just feeling irritable and I took it out on you, but that isn’t fair of me.”

“I’m not going to be your punching bag for the rest of my life, Zuko,” you relent quietly, blinking back the tears that begin to form. “All I want is to start over, but you’re making it so difficult. Why did we even come here?”

“We came here because I realized you deserved better than to constantly live your life on the run,” he admits softly, carefully taking your hands in his own. “I know I’ve failed to make you happy or treat you the way you deserve, but you have to know that I care for you. The best part of my day is coming home to you after work, and I never want you to feel like a burden because you aren’t.”

“Thank you for saying that,” you sniffle with a meek smile, and when he pulls you into his arms for a hug you don’t protest. “I know this has been hard for you, but you have to understand that all I want is to support you and make the change as easy as possible for you.”

“I know, and I’ll forever be grateful for everything you do,” Zuko says before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Now let’s get home before Uncle begins to worry.”

You say nothing more as he puts a protective arm around you and guides you through the streets of Ba Sing Se. The move has been tough, but he swears then that he’s going to do his best to improve his attitude and give you the support you need.

He has a lot of making up to do.

| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @lora21 @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy

| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303

[oizysian]

03 // Being forced to kneel // Little Wolf

Summary: Lady Maximoff deals with an intruder.

Pairing: Vampire!Scarlet Witch x Werewolf!Y/N

Warnings: submission, slight bondage

Word count: 800

Kinktober masterlist

“Mistress, we found this beast outside on the castle grounds.”

In chains was a werewolf, snapping and snarling at the guards that had captured it. They had chains around its neck, arms, and even its legs. How it managed to walk was beyond the Queen. She watched as they dragged it over to her, watching as it struggled every step of the way. She tilted her head, smiling as it flung one of her guards into a wall and two others had to jump in to subdue it.

“Kneel before your Queen.”

It snarled at her in response. Her dark eyes narrowed at it, her perfectly manicured nails clicked on the armrest of her throne impatiently, her silver rings gleaming.

“I said ‘kneel!’” She snapped and the guard on her left kicked the wolf in the back of the leg, causing it to lose its balance and fall down on one knee.

“That’s how I like my prisoners.” She smiled widely and gestured to the guard holding the chain around the creature's neck to pull.

It let out a growl, falling down on both knees and attempted to free itself from its bindings.

She raised her hand once more and the guard let up on the pressure, and it began to calm down.

“I don’t want to look at this … beast anymore. Change. I want to see who was brave enough to trespass on my grounds.”

The beast panted heavily, staring her down, before bowing its head and letting out a loud sigh. Before her eyes, the giant wolf turned into a normal sized woman, who was shaking with emotion.

“What a surprise. I expected it to be another man coming to kill me. Or force me full of his seed.”

At her words, the woman looked up, disgusted at the thought. No, she hadn’t been here to harm the Queen. On the contrary, she wanted to serve her. But these fool guards had captured her and ruined everything.

“What do you want?” She finally asked, looking into the tortured eyes of the wolf-woman.

“To serve.” Her voice was hoarse with misuse.

The Queen looked down at her prisoner, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“And what makes you think you can serve me?”

“I’m strong,” she huffed. “And I’m loyal.”

“Bring her here.” The guards dragged the naked woman to the throne, handing the Queen the chains that were wrapped around the prisoners neck. “Remove those chains.”

They followed orders, freeing her arms and legs, leaving only the chain around her neck in place.

“Leave us.” She directed towards the guards and they all hesitated a moment before backing up and leaving the throne room.

She pulled on the chain and the woman fell to her knees at her feet, head bowed.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” The wolf replied.

“A beautiful name.” She hummed.

“Lady Maximoff, please let me serve you. I’ll do anything -”

“Anything?” She questioned and the other woman nodded curtly. “Come here.” She beckoned and the wolf obeyed, crawling up to the foot of her throne, head still bowed. “Lift my skirts.”

She raised her head, eyes wide with confusion, but obeyed nevertheless, lifting up the Queens skirts and holding them up, waiting for her next command.

“Lick my pussy. Make a meal out of it.”

The wolf was unsure of the Queen’s intentions, so she stayed still at her feet, still holding up her skirts.

“I know you’re not dumb.” She said, tugging on the chain. “Go on.”

She hesitated, licking her lips before crawling up the throne and settling between the Queen's legs, letting the skirts fall down behind her. Eager to please, she kissed her inner thighs, licking and nipping at her before pressing opened mouthed kisses along her slit. She could hear the Queen moaning as her tongue explored her cunt, dipping inside her and swirling around her throbbing clit.

She could feel the Queen’s hand pushing her head down through her skirts, urging her on.

“Oh, yes,” the Queen whispered, her hips rocking up to meet the girl’s tongue. “You’ll do.”

Y/N hummed against her, lapping at her wetness greedily, happy to be pleasing her. She gripped at her thighs, holding her still as she began to tremble underneath her hands.

“Fuck yes, little wolf, I’m gonna cum.”

Her words fueled her inner fire, her own slick coating her inner thighs as she brought the Queen to release. The Queen pulled up her skirts, releasing the wolf and letting her crawl out from underneath them.

“I think I’ll be keeping you.” The Queen breathed, smiling to herself, tugging the chain around her neck so she got closer to her.

Y/N climbed up onto her lap and Lady Maximoff kissed her, tasting herself on her lips.

“Oh, yes, I’ll be keeping you.”

[theanimeoftheblackbunnymask]

Transitions (Yandere Dazai x Reader)

Author's Note: This is based on the idea I had on how it would feel to be going from PM!Dazai's behavior towards his darling to ADA!Dazai's behavior. I also think people forget that Dazai was a teenager while he was in the Port Mafia, so reader is also around his age.

Warnings: Implied Non-Con, Mental Abuse, Physical Abuse, Torture, Emotional Abuse, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Delusions, Child Abuse, Assault, Implied Murder, PTSD, Panic Attacks Mentioned, Mental Breakdowns, Suicide Dicussed, Teasing, Mocking, and Sadism.

Links: {Masterlist} {Idea Concept}

Is it possible for a man like Dazai to change?

That was the only thing on your mind. You had been stuck with the man for years, you can remember the day of your abduction perfectly.

It was quick.

You were walking home from work. After your mother lost her job it became quite hard for her to pay the bills, so you picked up a job at the local grocery store. Balancing both High School and Work was no easy task. Your normal schedule was going to school until 3, tutoring until 4, and from 4 to 11 it was straight work. You'd often have to pull all nighters just to do assignments.

The day of your abduction was the day all those all nighters caught up with you. You walked with a drag, your vision blurred as you tried to stay awake, and every few seconds you'd let out a yawn. Normally you'd take the bus home or one of your co-workers would give you a ride, but recently you guys had grown short on staff, making you the only worker that night, and since it was a holiday the bus was running on a different schedule. Knowing what you knew about Dazai, he planned this all perfectly.

As you were walking you bumped into him, and maybe it was your exhaustion, but the moment you bumped into his chest you fell into his arms, your body going limp as he held you tightly.

That was the day you lost all freedom.

-----------------------------

"Wake up Princess/Princie~"

Opening your eyes, staring down at you was a suspiciously happy Dazai. You only stared at him as he sat next to you on the bed. When he initially kidnapped you, you were kept in a cell in the Port Mafia base.

You still remember how cold it was in there. The blood. The noise. Everything that took place in that cell still haunts you to this day. The very reminder of it sends a chill down your spine.

Now, the room you were kept in was actually a room. A queen sized bed in the middle, a vanity in the corner, a closet next to it, and on the other side of the room was a door that led to the bathroom. The room was decorated to your liking, but the only downside was the massive window that was barred up, forever reminding you of a freedom so close yet so far from your grasp.

"What's the matter? You still mad at me?" Dazai asked in his infamous baby voice, putting his hands on your cheeks in order for you to meet his gaze.

You only turned you head away, keeping your mouth shut.

Letting out a sigh, Dazai spoke. "Hey, don't be like that, Y/N."

You still didn't budge.

"You know that bastard deserved it."

"Did he, Dazai? Did he?" You snapped, now sitting up.

"Traitors don't live, Y/N," Dazai said nonchalantly as he got off the bed. "You should know that better then anyone."

You do.

"Why are you up so early?" You asked.

"The boss has a mission for Chuuya and I. I should be back around midnight, so you can do whatever you want in here until then!"

"Dazai."

"Hm?"

"Can I...," You paused, clenching your fist. "Ask you something?"

"Of course my dear! Ask away."

"When...when will you let me out?"

You felt energy in the room switch as Dazai's face dropped.

"Oh...My sweet, little Y/N," Dazaj cooed as he made his way towards you, gently grabbing your face. "You're a smart girl/boy. I know you know the awnser to that. Or will I have to remind you?"

His question immediately struck you with fear as you look up to him in a panic. Your hands shook as you tried to get him hands off your face, but his nails only dug further.

"Will I?"

The bloodlust in his tone. The emptiness in his eyes. It's all too familiar.

"No...no! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. I'm sorry for asking, just please..." You pleaded as you gripped your hair, you eyes fixated on your lap as memories flooded your mind. "Not again.'

You could sense the smirk on his face as he kissed your forehead. "Smart choice. "

As you watched him leave through the exit of your prison, you could feel a tear roll down your face as the door slammed shut.

------------------------------

Chuuya was the only person in the entire Port Mafia who you felt cared at least a little bit about your situation. Besides you and Mori, he knew just how cruel Dazai could be, and whenever he spotted whatever bandages were on your body, for the quickest second you could see sympathy in his eyes. You remember one time he found you crying in your cell after one of Dazai's punishments. Your body was in so much pain that you could barely move, and your mind was scattered that you couldn't even think straight. You were naked and cold, but your skin burned in pain.

Tilting his head down, using his hat to hide his gaze, Chuuya quietly opened the cell, laid his coat over you, and walked out just as quickly and quietly as he had entered.

However, you kept your fondness of Chuuya a secret from Dazai. You knew Dazai would never kill Chuuya even if he found out about his acts of kindness. Jealous? Most likely. Angry? Definitely not. Dazai saw and knew everything you did, every thought you had, you knew that he most likely knew. He was always watching you, or at least he made you believe so.

And that was why you haven't escaped yet.

The thing is, escaping Dazai is easy, stupidly easy, but staying free was damn near impossible. He could find you in a matter of seconds, or you would run back before he realized you were gone. You see, there was 1 time you escaped Dazai, and it was a moment that you would never forget. He made sure of that.

It was a week after your abduction. You were able to notice that everytime Dazai left for a mission, he'd never lock your door. So, when he told you that he'd be gone for a couple of days in order to complete a mission, you took that as your chance.

You were able to make it to the city were you wandered around for a bit. Eventually your exhaustion caught up to you, so you seemed refuge in a random motel after pretty guilt tripping the owner into letting you spend the night.

You feel bad that owner.

In the middle of the night, the motel caught, and by the time you woke up, Dazai was staring down at you, his empty eyes staring into yours.

Up until this point Dazai hadn't done anything to you. The most he would do was come into your cell and cuddle you for hours on end while telling you about his day. He seemed so soft despite the vibe he gave off. Sometimes he'd drag you to meeting with him where he'd nuzzle into your neck. But, this mistake flipped a switch a switch in him.

You lost your innocence that night.

Bruises, cuts, and bites littered your body, and all you did afterwards was hug your knees and stare blankly into space. Nothing could break you out of of that state, anything to make you forget what happened, anything to forget the pain.

He didn't stop there though. Night after night he'd escalate things further and further. At one point he broke both of your legs, dislocated your shoulders, and broke your fingers. He made sure one of your fingers healed incorrectly just for it to be a permanent reminder. And didn't stop at physical stuff either.

For nights on end he'd force you stay awake, and he'd play mind games with you too. He'd force you to complete nearly impossible task in your exhausted state, and then mock you to tears when you couldn't do them.

He did this for days just to teach you a lesson. When the lesson was over you were broken in, just like that. In the span of two weeks you became his lap dog, and he was disappointed at how easily you broke. I mean, why wouldn’t it be easy? You were only 16.

Any escape attempt after this would result in a panic attack. You would run back to your room where Dazai would be waiting, and while you had tears rolling down your cheeks, you'd run into his arms in order to seek even a little bit of comfort.

After a week of isolation, it was like another switch happened in Dazai. One day he came down to your cell and just broke down. You had never seen the man cry before. He then hugged you while spitting out a bunch of apologies.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just..." Dazai started before his voice lowered into a whisper, his gaze fixated on the floor. "I never wanted to hurt you...never. I was just so... I'm sorry. I'll take care of everything, ok?"

Sometimes you forget he's just like you, a kid. A sadistic, scarily intelligent kid, but a kid none the less. You soon learned why he kidnapped you, what his motive was.

He wanted to feel something. Anything. The boy was hallow, a cunning killing machine. His entire personality was an act. If you were to cut him open, you'd find nothing. And somehow, he gravitated towards you.

--------------------------

"Do you enjoy living?"

Dazai laid his head in your lap, his arms wrapped your waist as you ran your fingers through his hair. In the past couple months things have cooled down. You've lost any hope of escaping or for him to become any less cruel, so now you just follow his commands. Life has been easier this way, not enjoyable, but easier.

"Hm?" You responded, meeting his gaze.

"Your life. Everyday was the same thing. School, tutoring, work. Did you enjoy any of it?"

"Well, no, but it was worth it. Whenever I'd come home my mom would always be waiting for me at the dining table. Even as she got worse, she still was always there no matter how late I got home. And when I showed her my first paycheck," You face soften in remembrance. "The smile on her face made it all worth it."

Dazai was silent for a few moments for snuggling against your stomach.

"Humans confuse me."

You knew better than to ask him to elaborate. It's not because he'd be mad or anything, but you knew his awnser would leave you sleepless.

A life with Dazai was a life with uncertainty, unpredictability. Some days he'd be this soft little thing, clinging onto you like a baby and craving all your attention, whining when he didn't get it. But on other days, he'd force you to witness the execution of Mafia members, drag you on life threatening missions, use you as a pawn on missions, and force you witness his cruelty first hand.

Sometimes it's hard to believe he loves you. Sometimes you think you're just a pawn in his game.

--------------------------

Akutagawa hated your guts.

You got Dazai's praise, attention, and approval, and you did nothing to earn it. Anytime you looked at him, you see the hatred in his eyes.

A year after your abduction, Dazai started bringing you to his little trainings with Akutagawa, and you had one rule: Don't get close.

Seeing his treatment of the boy made you believe that you hadn't experienced the worse of his torment.

One day you couldn't watch it anymore. Dazai had kicked the boy so hard that he was coughing up blood.

"Get up," Dazai commanded coldly, slowly making his way towards the boy.

He was so weak that he could barely support his weight. They had been going at this for hours now.

"A weak dog is dead dog," Dazai said, pulling his gun out from his coat. "And dogs like you, don't deserve to be in the Port Mafia."

You watched as Akutagawa slammed his eyes shut as he gritted his teeth, preparing himself for death.

"STOP!"

You had hugged Dazai from behind, hugging him tightly as you looked up at him with teary eyes. His eyes remained cold as he looked down at you.

"Please...stop. Give the boy a break."

Dazai still looked down at you silently.

"For me, please."

You felt relief wash over you body as you heard Dazai let out a sigh.

"Fine," Dazai said with an annoyed yet defeated look on his face, turning around as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, throwing the gun in the process. "Don't think I'll be easy on you next time, Akutagawa."

---------------------------

The day Dazai left the Port Mafia is a day that you can never forget.

When he came to your room, he looked tired. Both physically and mentally. He didn't say a word as he sat down next to you on the bed.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke.

"Odasaku is died."

You felt your soul leave your body as those words left his mouth. You had met Oda a few times whenever Dazai would drag you to the bar with him, and he always treated you with kindness. He'd often scold Dazai for his treatment of you, but Dazai always ignored him.

You liked Oda, him and Chuuya made your life a little bit more enjoyable with their kindness.

You stayed silent at Dazai's words. Dazai didn't look like he was here, completely spaced out from the world. You had never seen Dazai like this, and it honestly scared you.

Scooting over next to him, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Dazai?"

You didn't know if it was grief or what, but you never saw Dazai like this. You didn't know what to do. If you didn't do anything he could punish you once he became stable, or if you did the wrong thing he'd also punish you later. You were lost, you were confused, and you were scared.

"I'm leaving the Port Mafia."

"...What?"

"I'm leaving the Port Mafia," Dazai said before turning to look at you. The emptiness in his eyes sent a chill down your spine. "And you're coming with me."

What happened after that was a blur. All you remember was walking out of the Port Mafia building with a small backpack on, with Dazai holding you hand.

------------------------

The two of you had found an apartment and had been living there for awhile.

After Dazai left the Port Mafia he completely rebranded himself. He seemed so much livelier, so much happier, so much more energetic. You honestly like this new Dazai. You didn't know if if was an act or not, but at least he was treating you better.

One day he came home with a genuine smile on his face.

"Dazai?" You called out as you sat down in front of the TV, watching a show you started but never got finish due to your kidnapping.

"I got a job!" Dazai responded excitingly, sitting down next to on the couch.

"Really? Where?"

"At this detective agency for the gifted."

You were honestly caught off guard. Dazai, a detective? Never in all your days would you think Dazai of all people would help stop crime.

You did your best to hide your confusion though, mostly because you've never seen Dazai so happy. This happiness didn't seem fake, it looked genuine.

"That's nice," You replied, doing your best to put on a smile before going back to your show.

"Guess what I'm thinking, Y/N."

This wasn't going to be good. You just knew it.

"Um, what are you thinking, Dazai?"

"You're getting a job," Dazai said, a smirk on his face as he spoke.

You dropped the bowl of cereal you were eating in complete shock.

"What...?"

"Yeah, I think you should go out more, see new things, make friends, you know, normalcy and things like that."

He was messing with you. This had to be a test. He was testing your loyalty. He wanted to if you'd awnser correctly. The Dazai you know would never tell you this and mean it. Sure he was being a lot nicer now, but this is just like how he first kidnapped you. The calm before the storm.

"Um, no, I'm good," You responded, turning away from Dazai. "I don't wanna, I'm ok."

"...Don't lie to me, Y/N," Dazai said coldly, sending a chill down your spine.

What? You awnsered correctly though.

"W-What?" You asked, turning around to face Dazai.

"I know you want to go out. I know you want to see people again, make friends," Dazai responded as he got closer to you. You didn't dare to back away, but what he said next dazed you. "See your mother again."

You hadn't seen your mother in almost two years.

"You're lying."

"Nope, got her address and everything right here," Dazai said before pulling out a piece of paper.

You immediately leap towards the paper, but Dazai raised it above his head, just out of your reach.

"Nah uh uh, you get this paper if you promise me that you'll go out."

"I promise, I promise, just give me it!"

"Aye, don't be rude," Dazai said, flicking your forehead before handing you the paper.

This had to be a dream. This was way too good to be a dream.

------------------------------

You still can't go out.

The paper with all your mother's information on it haunts you as you sit on the couch, staring at the door as you hug your knees.

You don't know what it is. Dazai's at work most of the time during the day, leaving you alone most of the time. The doors are unlocked, hell, he even gave you a key, but you just can't leave. Everytime you get close to the door you feel your lungs collapse. Your throat closes, you mind gets scattered, you can't think straight.

One time you stuck your foot out and immediately flung into a panic attack. Your breath was short, mind racing. You remember slamming the door shut and crying on the floor until Dazai came home. Anytime you got close to the door, images of your past escapes would flash in your head. Each and every one of them ended with you facing Dazai's torment.

Yeah he left the Port Mafia, but Dazai is still Dazai. This is all one big test to see how much you've learned, the paper was just something to allure you into escaping. You weren't failing this time.

"Still on the couch?" Dazai asked, almost sounding disappointed and worried all at the same time as he sat next to you. "Remember our deal?"

"Take it," You said, your voice and eyes empty as you gave his the crumbled up piece of paper.

Dazai just stared at you as he took the paper. You couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"I passed your test," You continued before lying down on the couch.

Dazai didn't say anything after that. He just stood up and walked away, not even sparing you a glance.

Sitting in your shared bedroom, Dazai stared up at the ceiling as he spoke to himself.

"They’re not leaving willingly anytime soon. I conditioned them too well."

Dazai didn't even notice, but tears were starting to form in his eyes as he spoke.

"They're leaving. They're getting a life."

The next morning you didn't wake up on the couch like you thought, but instead you were sitting on a bench in the center of the city, the paper you gave Dazai in your hand.

"Huh? What? Where... How?" You couldn't even form a coherent sentence as you looked up at the city around you. It was all so overwhelming.

As you walked down the street you kept your head low, trying to balance your nerves as you stared at the address written on the paper. You've waited two whole years for this very moment, a moment you thought you would only be a dream has finally came true.

The apartment your mother had now lived in was far more rundown and ghetto than the last one the two of you shared. The neighborhood was dangerous and the complex was filthy.

As you stood infront of your mother's door, you didn't know what you were going to say to her. Where you going to tell her what happened or just leave her in the dark? You honest weren't sure. Before you could decide what you were going to say, your knuckles were already meeting against wood of the door.

"Hello, can I..."

Standing infront of you was your mother. She looked tired, like she hadn't slept in days. But, the moment your mother locked eyes with you, the two of you were left speechless.

The two of you didn't say a single word as you fell into your mother's arms. You didn't even realize tears were rolling down your face as you hid your head in your shoulder.

"Mama..."

That was all you could say. Your voice was cracking as you hugged your mother tighter, as if she was going to disappear if you didn't.

"Shhh, it's alright," Your mother said gently as she rubbed your back. Even when flooded with overwhelming emotions, your mother was always able to remain composed and calm you down. "What happened baby?"

"I'm sorry mama, I'm sorry I didn’t... I didn't want to leave."

"I know baby, I know."

"I didn't want to leave you mama. I never did. I didn't wanna go, but I couldn't come back."

"Shhhh, calm down, I know, it's ok. Come inside and I'll fix you something, ok?"

Rubbing your eyes, you weakly gave her your response. "Ok."

--------------------------

You never told your mother about Dazai or what truly happened. Anytime you'd get close to telling her, an image of Dazai's face would flash into your head and all those memories would come right back to you.

Your mother had made you your favorite, and at the moment it felt like the world didn't matter. It felt like you were back before everything happened, the time before all the pain, all the trauma, it felt, peaceful. And you couldn't remember the last time you felt true peace.

"What are going to do now?" Your mother asked, sitting down in front of you as you ate.

"I don't know. I need to get a job, but I don't know where to start."

"One of my friends daughters works in one of the stores at the mall, maybe I can get you in contact with them. That'd be nice, right?"

"Maybe."

"Where you living now?"

That question made your blood run cold. She couldn't find out about Dazai. Rebrand or not, Dazai was still Dazai, and you wouldn't let yourself be fooled into thinking otherwise. This wasn't the first time he's pulled something like this, but this time it was going on for a bit too long.

"An apartment downtown. The landlord is letting me live there rent free until I can get back on my feet."

"That's nice."

"Yes," You said before drinking you tea. "It's...nice."

-------------------

"Ah! You're back," Dazai said as he stood up from the couch, making his way to you.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry, I don't what happened but I woke up outside and-"

"Shhhh, I know everything. Was it nice?"

"...No."

"Be honest, Y/N."

"...It was... It was the nicest thing I've gotten in the past two years."

"That's what I thought," Dazai responded before caressing your cheek. "I want you getting out the house more. I won't punish you, I won't hurt you ever again, you have my word Y/N."

You stayed silent. Don't trust him.

"Y/N."

Don't trust him.

"I'm sorry."

Looking up at Dazai, your eyes widened as you saw tears build up in his eyes. Before you knew it, he was holding you tight, hiding his in your shoulder as he spoke.

"You didn't deserve it, you didn't deserve any of it. I love you with all of my heart, I don't know what I'd do without you. I won’t hurt you again, I won't let myself go that far. You are the sweetest person in the world and I corrupted you with my pain. I love you; I'm sorry that I hurt you, and I'll forever be sorry for that, even after I take my final breath."

--------------

It's been a few years since then, and a lot of things have changed. You've gotten a job at the mall and you've became best friends with your co-worker Jojo. The two of you always hang out after work and she's gotten you to go out more. You've made a few new friends but you still get anxious talking to people.

You've met Dazai's co-workers and they all adore you, this kid Atsushi especially. He seems to be Dazai's apprentice and he's always the first one to talk to you whenever you come by the agency.

Ranpo is kinda bratty but he's a really smart guy. You were pretty suprised you found out his age, but you like talking to him about mysteries and his latest jobs. He never fails to suprise you, but he always makes you feel stupid with his arrogance. He's the only one in the ADA that knows about your true history with Dazai, and it was simply by observing your guys' interactions. To the outside the two of you see normal, but Ranpo is able to notice the smallest details that made him figure out the dark history of you and Dazai.

You're pretty sure Kunikida has a crush on you. Any time the two of you talk he's always beet red and gets annoyed whenever Dazai comes along.

You enjoy talking with Kyoka, you're pretty sure she sees you as a big sister. She's always trying to impress you and likes to follow you around. One time you bought a kimono with one of your paychecks and she hugged you so tight that she didn't let go for an hour. For a stone faced child she's truly a sweetheart.

Akiko and you hang out all the time. The two of you often go shopping together and she was the one who explained how abilities worked to you. The two of you were at a bar when she explained it and you quite shocked to say the least. Dazai never explained it to you, it was more like something that was constantly brought up and you had to figure out how it worked on your own.

Now you and Dazai. To say in simple terms, your relationship is complicated. He doesn't hurt you physically, but he still plays mind games with you, but it's just not as obvious. The relationship feels more normal, but his obsessive tendencies still shine through despite his lack of violence. Anytime you go out he always implies that he'll know everything you do. At work, hang out, clubs, everything, he's always watching. So, despite your new found freedom, you're very anxious, and still don't interact with men that Dazai doesn't know. He even met your mother and she adores him. You still do your best to prevent her from finding out the truth about Dazai.

But, if you ignore all of his flaws, Dazai might as well be the perfect boyfriend. He always buys you gifts, takes you on dates, and actually does couple stuff with you. If you ignore the past and that feeling of anxiousness whenever you're with or without Dazai, you would say that you wouldn't ask for anything better.

Right?

[simjaexy]

𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 | 𝙋.𝙅.

Pairing — Husband! Park Jongseong x Fem! Reader

Synopsis — Jay works from 9 to 5, so it’s not a bad reason for you to have fun with him in the morning.

Genre — Smut, Fluff at the end

Warning — MINORS DNI! Making out, Cursing, Fingering, Pussy eating, Grinding, Morning Sex, Biting, Choking, Multiple Orgasms

Notes — Reblog, Comment, Like, etc., Not proofread

Masterlist here

The sunlight beaming on your face caused you to stir in your slumber. You heard a sigh behind, but couldn’t turn around from the strong arm holding you tightly.

You struggled to turn around from Jays string grip and pouted wanting to see his cute sleeping face. You look over at the time and noticed it was almost time for him to get up.

You tried to wiggled out his grasp but to no avail. An idea popped in your head and you grinned.

Slightly, you started to grind down on his cloth dick. He gripped onto your more tighter making you gasp.

“Not now baby.” He muttered. He spooned you and hugged you. You whined. He put his face on the back of your neck.

His soft breathing almost making you stop, but the way his veins popped out from the stunt you did made you feel more wet.

You purposefully arched your back and hummed. He groaned and kissed your neck. You rubbed his arm before moving your hand behind you and palming his soft dick.

He tensed and grabbed your hand, “Baby seriously. Stop.” He said. The tone in his voice stern. Oh how you loved when he was demanding with you.

You only fueled him more by rubbing his now half hard dick. He clicked his tongue and forcefully put your hand back making you whimper.

Before you could pull another act he went on top of you, caging you between his arms.

“You seriously wanna do this now?” He asked.

You smiled innocently, “What am I doing?” You teased. He clenched his jaw and went to your ear.

“Keep acting like a brat and I’ll make you have second thought.” He whispered. You felt yourself shiver at his response.

You wrapped your leg around his waist. He gripped on one of them.

“Stop it Y/n.” He hissed. You ignored him and started grinding on his now hardened dick. He groaned while you let out a sigh of pleasure.

Fuck it. He finally gave in and grind down on your needy core making you moan loud and throw your head back, clenching in the sheet.

He cursed and wrapped his hand around your neck making you mewl. His pace slow and torturing. You put a hand on his wrist.

“Faster please.” You whined. He smirked and started going faster making you feel your clit making contact with his dick. You felt a knot in your stomach.

“I’m gonna cum!” You said. He stopped moving making you cry out.

“Jay please!-“

He kissed your harshly causing you to moan. He broke the kiss and took off your shorts. You squirmed when the cool air hit your core through your underwear.

He gripped your chin and kissed you again. He palmed at your pussy making you gasp. He grinded his hand down making your knees feel weak.

He inserted his tongue in your mouth and moaned. You sighed through the kiss and grind on his hand.

He took his hand off and moved your panties to the side. He licked a long stripe of your slick making you tense your legs between his head.

He sucked on your folds causing you to cry out in pleasure. He continued doing it until he put his hand higher up, cupping one of your breast.

“Jay it feels so good!” You whimpered. You felt him grin against your pussy. You felt the knot coming back and started grinding faster on him.

“Seongie I’m gonna cum! Please!” You cried out. He let you grind on his face and moaned. The knot finally snapped making your orgasm wash over you hard.

He continued licking you until you gripped his hair. He stared up at you with a smirk. He pulled his boxers down revealing his hard dick.

The tip was red with pre-cum making you drool. He chuckled and gripped it making him hiss. He started to stroke it slow causing you to bit back a whine.

He went on top of you again and moved your panties to the side again and slowly entered. You finally let out a sigh feeling his thick veiny dick fill you up.

He started at a slow pace and pecked you nose. You whimpered and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Go fast Seongie.” You whispered. God did he love it when you called him that. He gripped your waist and fuck you at a ruthless pace making you arch you back.

He held you in place with your hips causing your jaw to fall slack. You let out loud moans while he was groaning with his head back.

The sound of skin slapping made you more wet making him slip in and out of you easily. You gripped on his forearms.

“I’m gonna cum! Cumming!” You yelled. He started to suck in your neck and that’s when you felt it come over you again.

He let out a moan and pressed into you, his cum filling you. You gasped hard and whined when he pulled out.

He got up and went to the bathroom and came back with tissue. He wiped you and then himself and threw it in the dirty clothes.

“You’re on birth control right?” He questioned. You nodded breathlessly. He went over to you and kissed your forehead.

“I gotta get going baby. I’ll see you tonight.” He muttered. You whined and gripped his arm.

“Do you have to go?” You mumbled. He sighed and nodded.

“I have an important meeting today angel. I’ll call you on my breaks.” He said. You finally let him go.

He tucked you back in bed when he noticed your eyes getting droopy.

“Sorry I didn’t make you breakfast.” You yawned. He chuckled.

“It’s fine. I already had good breakfast earlier.” He winked. You eyes went wide and glared at him. He laughed and pecked your lips before getting ready for the day.

While you nuzzled your face in the soft blanket and went back to sleep.