#he wondered if it had been a lie all along

[unknownogre]

“What?!”

The hero looked to Nuvian with a very puzzled expression, the half-elf bard just smirked a bit and gave him a wink. Up until now he was the model of virtue, always helping the hero make the right choice so the people would love him. Telling the best stories so his path stayed true…so the works coming out of his mouth right now were jarring at best.

“Yes, let me toy with him for a while. I think I can get three or four weeks. Two months if I use this new healing spell I’ve been trying to learn on the side. Oh I think his screams will be wonderful…a symphony for the soul if you will.”

Nuvian smile as he moved the villain over to make sure his heart was still bleeding and offering some stabilization without waking him up. The hero was just dumbfounded at the moment.

“I…I was just going to kill him.”

Nuvian didn’t even look back as he made sure to search the Villain’s pockets and remove everything but enough clothes to leave his modesty intact. He moved like he was an expert at this, like it had been done a hundred times and this was simply business as usual. Even his tone was as light and warm as it ever has been.

“Oh, I know, but that was never the plan my dear friend. This was the plan. This has always been the plan.”

The rest of the party was recovering. They had all been just hurt enough to have to stay behind for the final battle leaving only the hero and his trusty bard to face the boss alone. None of them grievously injured…but just enough so they wouldn’t be at full so they weren’t strong enough to walk through the barrier.

“The Plan? You need to talk to me Nuvian. I want you to explain everything right now!”

The Hero panicked, had he just been manipulated this entire time? Were his motivation his own? Panic…worry…dread. He said he’d never be a puppet again. Not since escaping slavery.

“Oh it was simple. Keep you good, get you strong and get to the villain. Kill him, won’t help you feel better. You know it needs to be done though. If you did this, you’d lose part of yourself. Which is fine. You’ve only killed monsters up to this point, mindless hunks of meat that deal out constant aggression. They have no emotions, no anything. They are easy to kill. Sentient beings on the other hand, well that isn’t you cup of tea. Don’t worry, your quest was yours alone, I didn’t need to make you do anything. I was just along to get to this point.”

At this point the Hero didn’t even notice Nuvian hoist the Villain up on their horse and secure them to the saddle. The bard then turned to his friend and walked over to put a hand on his shoulder. The Hero’s eyes locked with his friend and oddly enough he found comfort in them. This was the man who had saved his life, who sang by the fire at night to quell the restless spirits that banded together to remove the Villain from power. He was there, it couldn’t have all been a lie could it?

“Listen, you aren’t the only one this bastard has hurt. On top of that he knows things, things no one but me knows he knows. So I want some answers. I get to have fun while I rip them from his flesh. I’m a nice person my dear Hero but I’m not a good one. Do you remember the corrupt mayor that we punished last year?”

The Hero nodded and then froze.

“What did you do to him? We left him in a jail cell and moved on. The city was supposed to do what they needed…but then you had business. I…I watched you get on a boat and leave. We met up a month later.”

Nuvian just smile and squeezed his friend’s shoulder. He then motioned for him to sit down in the batter throne they found the villain on while Nuvian sat in the stewards spot.

“Well, I did have business, but I just had the ship drop me down the river and I looped around back. I then hunted down every noble that supported the Mayor, I tortured them to make sure there were no hidden secrets, and then I tortured the mayor till his body gave out. I did some of my best work. A demon actually came up from hell to have me autograph a square of his flesh after his body gave out and his soul hit its final destination. It was really an honor. Shows I’m on the right path. Most polite pit fiend I’ve ever met. Didn’t use my real name of course, not that stupid. We had a laugh over it, all in all a great time.”

The Hero was still stunned but honestly he didn’t feel bad about it. He didn’t give the go ahead for this, but he knew if anyone deserved those fates it was that pedophile mayor and his lackies. Reason was starting to return, and the more Nuvian talked the more the Hero realized that it wasn’t that he didn’t know his friend, he just didn’t know ALL of his friend and that was okay because he was finding out now.

“Alright, if that is what you want to do I’m not going to argue or stop you. Come find me when you are done though okay, I want to take you out to the tavern for a drink.”

Nuvian just chuckled and brought his friend in for a hug. He knew the Hero wasn’t naive and thus why he was chosen as a traveling partner and one to help him get to his goal. Find, capture, break and then murder the Villain. The process took three years, but three years of well spent effort.

“Deal.”

The bard said as they parted ways and he turned to head out of the place before the rest of the party could try and press their morals upon them. Nuvian could only chuckle as he head the Villain groan in pain. Oh it was going to be SO much worse in just a day’s time…he couldn’t wait.

'You can't kill him!' 'Ugh I am so sick of this idea that killing this monster would make me just as bad as he is!' 'What? No I'm saying I can keep him alive for DAYS while I torture him' '…'

[dan-crimes]

airy for the Bingo 👀👀

I know my opinions are prolly wrong and controversial but I do not care anymore since the show has been over for a good while

So let me just tap into my old knowledge of how I feel about the show and Airy as a character

Alright so yeah I'm on the more extreme side of things of just like Airy didn't do anything wrong ever, this isn't even me being like oh favourite character or anything it's just kinda like I just genuinely do not think he was ever thinking about anything he was doing ever

Obviously he still did bad things but like the thing is, when you DIE you don't really DIE so death kinda loses its meaning and there isn't really that impact anymore of Airy killing people and he had to also die multiple times likely in order to get where he is

So UNDERSTANDABLY there is a lack of connection there, a lack urgency in death @ the Plane once Airy understands how to bring people back

Obviously there is still a LOT of fucked up shit if you REALLY think about it and really connect with the characters and try and feel what they must be feeling BUT to think Airy is this fucked up cold and unfeeling villain aware of his actions is just not it

He just isn't. There. He's not there lmao it doesn't really feel like there is a way to get it through to him that what he's doing is causing problems bcuz it's like a sandbox game for him he doesn't understand that things happen without him that those are PEOPLE existing in his little world that they have lives and are effected by his actions

He only has a connection when he sees Liam in person and like there were other times he showed care and concern but it's a lot more apparent when someone is physically there with you, you can see and feel them and they have an impact on you

Plus he did feel bad about what he had done in the past but there's not really a way for you to properly process that so understandably he just doesn't, like it obviously bothers him but he also doesn't want to be alone and I understand how boredom is a killer

Plus I think he's prolly always been a bit messed up but it really comes out when you've been thru things ur never gonna be able to fully understand or process so you simply don't and just accept things and do things a certain way bcuz you just gotta

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

warning: yandere and obsessive behavior, mentions of death and violence, possessiveness

Yandere!Angel adored you with all of his heart, worshipping you as his goddess. He abandoned his creator, instead turning to you.

He kissed along your thighs, his strong, large hands holding onto your plump thighs as he spread them open.

He always looked up at you for permission, his chin resting on your leg obediently. Despite the fact he was nearly twice your height, he acted like a needy puppy before you, willing to do anything to please you.

“May I?”

You nodded, sighing happily as his tongue licked your soft, fat pussy, his fingers pumping in and out of you.

As he settled between your thighs, ready to worship his goddess, he began to remember how this all came to be.

He was supposed to be working on earth, helping guide humans to the correct path and keep them from sinning.

Instead, he ended up getting hurt, stranded on the side of the road with a broken wing.

He hadn’t been told how cruel humans could be.

So when you pulled over in your car, running up to him, he attempted to spread out his wings in a defensive display, his eyes shining bright enough to blind a man.

But his eyes dimmed and he yelped in pain as his broken wing moved. He fell back onto the ground, panting softly, looking up at you weakly.!

“Hey, hey…”

You knelt down, reaching out carefully to inspect his wing.

“Don’t touch me!”

You flinched, frozen in fear, his power causing you to be unable to move.

An angel’s command worked only on those pure of heart… so for a moment to examined you.

Soft and chubby with a kind face, like the cherubs he played with in heaven. As you did your best to bandage his wing, you noticed he was nearly twice the size of you… and very handsome.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise. See, it’s feeling better isn’t it?”

The angel watched you, his eyes wide with curiosity and wonder as you dabbed some soothing cream onto his swollen skin. You were being so gentle with him, guiding him back to your car.

The way you kept him flush against you, being as gentle as possible to make sure his wounds wouldn’t be irritated made him feel… strange.

He barely fit in your backseat, having to lie down so you could close the door.

“… thank you…”

He nuzzled softly against you, his undamaged wing flapping. “You saved me… you’re so kind, like an angel… like…”

You turned to see him staring at you, his eyes big. The golden orbs observed with newfound interest, watching as you grabbed a med kit to further clean and treat his wounds.

‘Like a goddess…’ he thought to himself, not daring to say such blasphemy aloud.

As he began to recover, you noticed him staring, following you with his eyes every time you moved.

“Need something?”

He quickly looked away, his cheek flushing a soft pink. His wing fluttered in both nervousness and excitement.

“I… don’t need anything.”

It didn’t take him long to heal, his body was different than any human or animal, but… he still feigned pain when you touched his now healed wing.

“Ah, it still hurts?”

You soothed him, letting him nuzzle into you and look at you with those big golden eyes. He was utterly entranced, wanting to worship and adore you… no one had ever been so kind to him!

So that’s how he ended up like this, begging for you to use him, to order him around and to let him love and protect you for all of time.

The only catch was… he was the only one allowed to worship the temple that was your body.

He pulled his fingers from your wet cunt, his tongue struggling to part with your puffy clit. It wasn’t easy, but he knew from your whines and tugging on his pants that you wanted his cock now.

And he would give you anything…

He pushed his cock past your wet folds, stretching you on him. The first time he worshipped you this way, he cried with you as your body tried its best to accommodate his large size. He hated seeing you in pain…

Your pretty, ample breasts bounced deliciously as he moved his hips, unable to stop himself from fucking you like a wild animal.

God you were perfect, his angel, his goddess… and no one would ever get to see the look of ecstasy on your face when you came.

A warm bath had you sighing in relief after, your angel happily bathing you, kissing your feet and scrubbing your body as gently as possible.

Though it was difficult keeping his jealously at bay… being with him wasn’t too hard. If only you knew how many men he had killed due to his possessive nature…

You’d never even think he was capable. He was an angel after all, with soft blonde curls and the prettiest, most innocent golden eyes.

And he wanted you to remain ignorant to his second nature. He much preferred worshipping you while you were relatively free and happy…

But he’d lock you up if it meant keeping you to himself~

The angel settled you down with him after your bath, covering you with his soft, feathery white wings. He kept you close to his chest, kissing your head.

Everything was just perfect.

For now…

(More?)

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog

[dreaisgrayte]

Half Blood | Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, TW! YN does get assaulted, mentions of blood, drinking blood, gore, how many times do I mention claws? Oral fem!receiving, fingering, kissing, breeding kink, virgin sex, creampie, and overstimulation.

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: guys this started off as a quick break from a Sanemi fic I'm working on (keep in mind I think short fics are no longer than 3k) and here I am... with a way longer fic than I intended and something I actually want to expand on in the future. It was a lot of fun to write this so I hope you enjoy it <3

“You,” His pink irises are illuminated by the moon high in the night sky. The blood within your body cools as you stare back at the man who stored your fate. His inky black hair flows down his shoulder in waves. A deep blue yukata loosely hung on his frame. “I’ve been watching you.” Muzan growls, edging ever closer to where you stood. His pointed canines glinted in the light, his nails sharp and ready to claw at your jugular. The demon king rolls his tongue along the tips of his teeth, studying you carefully. Was he deciding whether or not to feast upon your flesh?

He had never seen such a creature as yourself. Your skin was glowing, soft, and supple. The lavender color yukata covered most of your body, a delicate pattern of white flowers spanning the kosode fabric. Your obi was white with purple vines flowing around it. You wear simple white tabies paired with purple strapped zori. Elegance and grace radiated from you. He could smell the wisteria perfume in your hair. 

It was strange, you were a confrontation to the world he wanted to live in – yet something he could not tear his eyes away from. Here you were, standing in front of him without fear. He rather thought it would be better fun if you were afraid, he did so enjoy the chase. Though, there was – of course – a reason you relented in running away from him. Your eyes were stormy, eclipsed by thousands of emotions. That’s when a different smell, that had not yet hit him, tickled his nose. Blood, and not just any blood. You had the blood of a demon in you. Your stern, furrowed brows, with the revolting smell of wisteria burning his nose. You confused him. “What are you?” He purs out, not sure if what would come out of your mouth would be a lie or truth. He could always figure it out for himself one way or another. 

Your lip ticks, a show of annoyance you’d yet to master. The man in front of you knew, he could smell it, of that you were sure. Yet, he dared ask. What are you? You’d been told many times what you were. An abomination. A curse. A monster. “Are you not the demon king?” You spit back, growing angry. Would the other half of you reject your existence as well? You had hoped at least the demons would have the scarce bit of comradery running through their systems. Muzan’s brows lift, then knit together. Did he need to answer you? After all, he could easily swipe at your neck to kill you for being so insolent. The eager need to hear what you had to say captivated him though. 

When the man does not answer you tut, crossing your arms over your chest. “Here I thought the mighty demon king would be able to tell me apart from the rest.” You shake your head, laughing stiffly into the night. In a flash Muzan has you pinned to the trunk of a tree. Splinters etch toward your face from the very force of his hand. His muscular body cages you in and it takes you a moment to realize how your body aches to be near him. 

“I can smell you,” He mutters, squinting his beautiful eyes like he couldn’t quite distinguish what he was looking at. “You assault my senses, it’s driving me mad. There’s something different about you.” Muzan had first observed you walking in your village one evening, the way people sneered and cowered at your presence intrigued him. He found himself looking for you every night, wondering what your story was. These villagers were shunning you. He wished to know why such a pretty thing as yourself would be outcasted in her own village. “You smell like me, yet you are not. So I ask you again, what are you?” His voice is low, edging on the precipice of anger. 

You do not yield in holding his gaze. “I am you, yet I am not. Born of the sun and moon. A half-blood.” 20 years ago your mother found herself in the entertainment district, serving the pleasures of others. A man came to visit her on multiple occasions. Eventually, the two ran away together. Sharing in love and secrets. Your mother was a demon and your father a local carpenter. How you were able to be conceived was a mystery, even to them. They lived in peace, until one night. The villagers had finally seen through your father’s lies, storming their house. They slaughtered both of them and assuming you were a child taken captive, they whisked you away to a widowed mother. As you grew it was obvious where your origins lay, yet no one in the village dared to lay a hand on you. 

Muzan lets his gaze drop to where your heart pulsed, bouncing the skin of your jugular. “You are human and demon?” Something pulled tight in his chest. Could you walk in the sun? Did you regenerate? Were you the answer to his plight? “You are radiant.” He cannot stop the words from falling past his lips. Your eyes light up with recognition, acceptance, and for a moment your past falls away. He had the ever-growing urge to sweep you away. Your very existence was tantalizing to him in the least. He tilts his head, wrinkling his nose at the obscure way you smelt. 

Your eyes settle on the way he reacts to you, wondering if he’ll take you away someplace. Some place away from these villagers who had slaughtered your parents who just wanted to live in harmony. They did not deserve to die and you did not want to live one more second with their murderers. Muzan wanted to take you, but he couldn’t. Not yet. You were so fragile. If he were to touch you he would fear you would break on the spot. “Are you going to take me away from this place?” You whisper, hopeful tones floating to Muzan. He swallows something deep and thick. 

Muzan backs away from you, eyes tensing. “No.” He replies softly. He could not take you into his den, the other demons were too stupid to realize how precious you were. You would be dead within seconds. The line between your brows hardens again as his words hit you. 

“No? Why not? Am I not good enough for you?” Your voice is rising. You sound like a whining child who hasn’t gotten their way. Muzan winces at the obvious pain seeping into your voice. You were nothing like he’d ever seen before. Something beautiful, a miracle in his eyes. Therefore, he did not answer you. He simply faded back into the shadows. With his disappearance, your hopes and dreams faded as well.

—

The next time you see Muzan is two years later. His hair is shorter than you last saw it, the curls kissing the nape of his neck. This neat look couldn’t contain the loose curls that framed his face. A starched white collar shirt was tucked into an ornate waistcoat. He looked utterly different, yet he was your Muzan. He had the same eyes, the same far-off look, and on top of that, you could practically taste his scent. It was overwhelming, crushing even, but in a way, you enjoyed the rush. 

It was also a fact that you had escaped your village after one of the men tried to see how strong a half-blood was. He told you he was turned on by how revolting you were and he would take you as his wife in duty only. Until then you had never seriously thought about killing a human. The realization was both terrifying and freeing. So you fled to the entertainment district, living off of what you could at the Kyogoku House. There were so many smells here. Food, humans, sex, and demons. 

You worked under a beautiful oiran, and you could tell… she wasn’t human. Part of you wanted to become friends with her, but if she hadn’t reached out for the sake of commonality, you didn’t think there was a chance of any other relationship than servant. 

Muzan’s brows furrowed. He had come to visit Daki and yet your scent prosecuted his brain. Ever since he left you in the forest that day he had been thinking of a way to retrieve you. You were too precious to let out of his sight again. This time he would secure you. He could feel his blood boil at the thought of you living in the Ukiyo. Kyogoku House was well protected, but anywhere without him wasn’t safe for you. Were you being used by men far beneath you? Muzan had never felt such rage toward the thought of men touching a woman. He often indulged in watching, humans were ever so entertaining – but you weren’t human. You were one of his and he swallowed harshly at the fact that you weren’t only his. 

He brushes past some of the lower-ranking courtesans, his eye twitching at their giggles. You watch from afar, the familiarity of his back etching a cold ache into your heart. He would leave again, of that you were sure. You hug the fresh sheets to your chest, making your way to the linen closet down the hall. “Ah, YN, I’ve been looking for you.” The Okaasan Omitsu stands before you. She has a cunning sneer behind the kind smile she wears. 

You bow, storing the sheets away before turning your full attention to her. “Yes Okaasan?” You can smell the evil intent behind this woman, it makes your stomach sink. 

“You wouldn’t mind doing me a favor would you?” She uses the word favor like you’d have a choice. She is the Okaasan after all. It’s like she thinks you’re some stupid girl that will follow whatever she says. Using the word favor is a manipulation tactic and if you were a naive girl, you would be eating out of the palm of her hand. 

You tilt your head to the left, plastering a fake smile of your own onto your lips. You knew anything out of your mouth except ‘yes Okaasan’ would make things harder for yourself. So with all your better judgment pushed aside, you say exactly that. 

Her eyes gleam. “Thank you, my dear. If you will kindly follow me.” She walks back up the hall, toward one of the private Ozashiki rooms. You glance around, nerves settling into your bones. You couldn’t be headed into one of these rooms, you weren’t even a kamuro. You were just an older shinzō. 

She stops in front of the panel, a cruel smile lifting the corners of her mouth. No, please, not this. “You are very blessed my dear, one of our chūsan is interested in you.” She slides the door aside and sitting against a wall smoking a pipe is a middle-aged man. Cushions are scattered around the floor and a twisted smirk plays with his mouth when he sees you. Okaasan bows then slides the door shut behind you. 

The room was stifling, the smoke choking out any of the senses you had. It was dizzying. “Mmm, you’re a lot older than I thought.” The man sneers, setting his pipe down. The fog of opium seemingly wraps around your throat, making it hard to breathe. “But you’ll do.” He laughs, patting the cushion next to him. “Why don’t you come a little closer?” He offers. Your body tenses. You were in danger, of that you were sure. You were not willing to give your virginity up to such a man but if you denied him the right to your own body, there would be outrage. You swallow, tentatively kneeling on the cushion next to him. 

He leans over you, sniffing the area around your shoulder. You stiffen. “You smell so good, better than all those flora bitches.” He growls. “I like your natural…musk.” Oh Gods did this man – who probably has a wife and children – just compliment how you smell when you’ve been working all day? “What do you like about me?” What a loaded question. 

You smile, one that shuts your eyes – if he saw the look in your eyes he’d be sure to know you were lying when you said, “I appreciate your generosity.” You bow your head and the man laughs heartily. 

His tongue darts out to coat his lips. “I can be more generous if you’d like?” He moves himself closer to you. “I was blessed with wealth, good looks, and a tool to make women scream.” Please let the tool be an ice pick so you can lobotomize yourself. “Whad’ya say, darling?” He coos, going in for what appears to be a kiss even though you hadn’t been given the time to answer him. 

You grimace away from his advance, shoving at his chest. The eerie playful tone in the room suddenly seems to vacuum out. The fog is still thick from the burning opium, but you don’t miss the way the man before you lunges for you. He’s panting above you with a charming pointy sneer. “Ah ah ah, not so fast. You haven’t serviced me, whore.” He digs his nails into your shoulder, pinning you to the wooden floor. “Look at you, begging for my cock with your eyes, ooohh you want it that bad you slut?” He hisses, fumbling with the buckle of his Western-style pants. You squirm wildly under his grasp but it’s like he’s infused with superhuman strength. “I’m gonna fuck you and then, as your reward,” His face is next to yours now, eyes glowing an electric yellow, pupils in slits. “I’m going to kill you.” His hand is on your throat, crushing your windpipe. You choke on what little air you were able to breathe earlier. 

A demon, this man was a demon. One of your kind. No… he wasn’t. He was something else. He was driven by the carnal desire to fuck and kill. You were too weak to push him off, your internal forces constantly warring against each other. You had always presented as human, meek, malleable, and obedient. What you would give to have your demon side come forth, bite this fucker’s head off. You want to scream – but on account of his claws sinking into the back of your neck – if you even moved that would surely be the end of your life. 

He tears your yukata to shreds, ripping the soft skin of your stomach open as well. Your mouth opens the pressure of a scream pushing against his hand. Blood mixes with the tattered cloth, the cotton dying red.

Muzan pauses, Daki grumbling about some inferior human drama. His eyes search the room, this time Daki taking notice from her self-indulged rant. Where was that smell coming from? He stands, silencing Daki before she can start whining again. The potent smell of blood was swirling to the top floor, but not just…any blood. “YN,” He hisses, the annoyance, rage, and blood-boiling sensations he felt earlier returning tenfold. Why were you bleeding? This was fresh cut blood, not from the dues women endured every month. He needed to find you, or he feared the worst. “I need to go.” He barely says to the demon next to him. Her face morphs into one of anger, and before she can hurl anything at him, Muzan slips out of her room. Where were you? He follows the pungent scent, clambering down the stairs and rushing down the hall until he’s in front of a private room. He’s sweating, for once fear is humming in his ear. He shoves the door to the side, witnessing a demon hunched over your body. 

Your blood is pooling around you dying the wonderfully blue yukata you wore earlier a sickly brown color. The demon doesn’t have time to look up because Muzan is already crushing its head, slashing its throat to shreds of what it once was. 

The room is covered in blood but the demon is dead. Muzan slides to the floor, cradling you in his lap. “YN, no, no please don’t die.” You were his miracle. You were his hope. If anything could save his damned soul it would be you. His arms are trembling as your stomach bleeds out, the skin marred, and…God the smell of your blood was driving him mad. It was something he shouldn’t be thinking about as you bleed out under him. You needed to regenerate. He wasn’t sure if you could so maybe your demon just needed a little push?

With his free hand, Muzan tears the flesh from his arm, bringing it down to your mouth. His blood trickles onto your lips, sliding into your mouth. After a few silent beats, your eyes shoot open. Muzan has never felt such joy as this very moment. Your arms wrap around his, bringing it into your mouth. Muzan hisses at the way your tongue dances around his wound, lapping up the blood he shed for you. You’re panting, gasping for more. Your eyes glow as you drag your tongue up the muscle of his forearm. His blood flows through you like your own life force, strengthening your nerves, hardening your muscles. He has made you stronger. 

It sends a pinch of desire through Muzan. He hadn’t felt the heat of wanting to sink his cock into the warmth of a cunt in decades. You were mouthing at his arm, wounds healed on both ends, but now that you were moving the once whole yukata falls off your shoulders. Blood trails from your lips down your chest, between your breasts. Muzan was never one to fend off his desire to want. He took whatever he wanted, without a care. He wanted to take you without a care. Fuck you senseless into the floorboards, claw at you, feed on your blood while you fed on his. It was ecstasy just imagining driving his cock into your pretty tight pussy. 

“I should’ve never left you.” He whispers and it sends a rolling wave of want through you. You move to straddle his lap. 

“Then don’t leave me now.” You could both smell it, the heat and arousal in the air. “Take me, my Lord.” He smirks, holding onto your thighs. 

He hums, enjoying the way you’re bare in front of him. You were a sight to behold. “Mmm, such a smart girl.” A portal opens underneath him, the wooden floor sinking into an expanse of rooms, platforms, doors, lights, and endless corridors. The sheer speed whips your hair around your face until – it doesn’t. You’ve stopped in the middle of whatever this place was. “Welcome home,” Muzan’s pink eyes darken to a deep crimson as he sits up straighter, pressing himself into you. You moan in delight as his hands work their way up your hips, sitting you down on the stiff part of his lap. 

You tilt your head, peeking at him. “I’ve never liked pants,” you mumble, playing with the hem of his. He chuckles his smirk growing. 

“And why is that?” He inquires, moving his tongue to lick up the blood that has traveled toward your navel. You choke out a moan as he makes his way between your breasts. You can feel his teeth against your skin and it’s a wretched thought. “Aheh,” He swipes at the crest of your breast. 

“H-hard to get off.” Muzan hums against your skin in agreement, but he’s too preoccupied with the way you tremble with untapped pleasure. 

He wants to tear into your flesh, mark you as his, burn only his name onto your tongue. “Such an eager kitten,” He licks his lips, capturing the back of your neck in his hands. “You want me bare that badly?” All you can manage is a small nod as he gingerly moves you so that you’re laying down. Your hips are still lined up with his as he gazes at you. “I can promise you I have a similar urgency.” He grins, pulling the belt from his breeches with a smooth movement. He tosses it to the side, but doesn’t make any more movements to pull his pants down. Muzan notices your heated gaze pointed toward his hardened groin. 

Did you know nothing about the workings between a man and woman? His eyes trail down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. He wraps his arms around the bend of your knee, smirking when your eyes widen in surprise. He tugs you upwards, to where your legs are over his shoulders. Being this close to your glistening pink cunt made his groin stiffen even more, if that was possible. The smell of you was intoxicating. He couldn’t help himself. “What a fucking view.” He growls. 

Muzan buries his head between your thighs, latching his mouth onto your swelling clit. You gasp in pleasure, breaths turning into ragged moans as he plunges his tongue deeper into you. “O-oh my God, f’ck, ngh.” With the way his tongue his twisting and sucking inside of you, breathing seemed impossible. His claws dig into your outer thigh, scratching red trails to your knees. He devours every bit of you he can reach, crazed by the tangy sweetness of your arousal. Your walls were squeezing around his tongue, heat running through your body. 

Your own hands find your stiff nipples, rolling them around in your fingers. You couldn’t get enough, it was the same feeling you received from drinking his blood. Heat rolling around in your veins as his eyes take in your puffy cunt and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. He maneuvers one hand from under your knee to the one place that was being ignored on you – your entrance. It was like the gate to a shrine and he wanted to worship there for eternity. “Look at how fucking wet your cunt is.” His pointed nails shape into shorter rounder ones, he dare not damage this holy place. Then, without warning, he presses two fingers into you. A yelp echoes across the void of the infinity castle. “Ahhh, shit,” You huff, tensing from the sensation of your pussy being stretched. 

Muzan knew you were a virgin, he would be lying if the fact didn’t make him grow more feral to have you sit on his cock and take his seed deep within you. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you. That was all he could think about while lapping up your wetness. 

The slick from your cunt was sucking his fingers in, a growl rumbling around your clit. This makes you scream out as a shockwave shoots through you. Your thighs are shaking and every once and a while – as Muzan still selfishly fingers you through your climax, sucking on your clit – your body will twitch. Heavy and heady moans fall from your lips, breaking into whines as you come down from your high. 

“You did such a good job my sweet,” Muzan lowers you gently back to the floor. Your neck is sore from being at an awkward angle for so long, but you would give anything to see the disheveled man before you with your arousal still on his lips. “That’s it. Prefect. You’re so perfect.” He mutters, licking his lips and watching you still play with your nipples. 

Though you feel like you’ve just ascended, you crave more. You want Muzan to breed you like his own personal slut. “M-more,” You gasp. “I feel so empty my Lord.” You huff, the edges of your voice bleeding to a whine. Muzan’s eyes widen. He hadn’t intended to fuck you just yet. Give you some time to grow accustomed to sexual things so it wasn’t rushed, but your eyes are pleading him to continue. He’s… nervous, which isn’t like the demon king. He’s so eager to please you. Make sure you’re comfortable. He wants to give you hell, heaven, and the earth. 

“You’re practically begging me.” He chuckles, unsure if you really knew what you were asking. There was no way that once Muzan slid into your heady cunt that he would not ravish you. There was no way to tell time in the infinity castle, so there was no way for him to know when to stop until he was satisfied. You squirm to get closer to him, spreading your legs wide for him. His gaze drops from yours to your center, whatever shred of humanity that was left in him suddenly flying away. “Such a filthy slut. You’re already hungry for more? You want me to fill you up? Then beg for it.” His eyes narrow into slits, the magma growing in his belly. 

Your body cools with a shiver of excitement, as you reach down in between your thighs. You purse your lips and then spread your labia apart. The cool air tickles the sticky wetness but you can tell it’s doing something for him. “Please, my King, I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t think. I want you to take my virgin pussy and make it yours.” 

The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smirk. “As you wish my Queen.” He frees his cock and you have to take a moment to gulp at the sheer size of it. The head is leaking precum and bruised a red color from the lack of release. The shaft is a pale pink, a thick vein running down the underside. The muscles of his hips also catch your attention. They were unlike the drawings some of the courtesans had shown you. His were muscular, ready to thrust into you for hours. 

Muzan lines himself up at your entrance, this time with the head of his cock. The idea was thrilling, finally pushing into your pussy and breaking the barrier of your womanhood. He hisses as your slick coats him, making it easy enough to start entering you. Your face contorts with a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Shhh, you can take it.” You want to wiggle away from him, the pain of his member stretching you out is enough to break you. “Ah ah ah, you’re not going anywhere pretty girl. Remember you asked for this.” Muzan leans over you seizing your mouth with his own. You share a leisurely kiss as he swallows your moans. 

He feels the head of his cock hit your hymen and with a wince he thrusts past it. He can feel the rush of silky blood around his cock, but he tries his best to divert your attention with heated kisses. You break free, a long drawn out moan gasping out of you. “Ahhh, oh my, hngh nngh yes!” 

Muzan nuzzles into your neck, the feeling of your walls clenching around him driving him practically insane. “Yeah? Tell me how good I am. Tell me how good I am at fucking you.” He hisses out, desperate for your compliments and approval. 

“Nnnggh, s’good, f’ckin’ me s’good.” You slur, drunk on how he guided a new path into you. You pant and writhe under him, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Not yet my love, I want you to watch.” He starts to move his hips and you wince in burning pleasure. “That’s it. You’re doing so good.” He grunts, snapping his hips back into you. The wet slap of skin hitting skin sends shivers down your back. 

You’re straining against the build up in your stomach, a pit of coils wanting to spring forth. “Mmm, harder.” You huff, reach out to grab the back of his neck. He shakes his head, a playful smirk on his swollen lips. 

“Use your manners.” He teases, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Please fuck me harder.” You mewl just as he starts to thrust into you with a quickened rhythm. Your breath is sucked away by the pure bliss aching from the friction. 

Muzan bites down on his lip, brushing a few curls that had come free from behind his ear. “You like it when I do that?” He quizzes, fucking you harder. You can only manage a nod.

Your voice has grown hoarse from moans breaking into screams and whines. You buck your hips along with his as you arch your back, tumbling over your peak. “F’ck, haa haa hnngh,” You squeeze his cock and release his neck, breathless from your second orgasm. 

“Cum all over my cock, fuck,” Muzan growls, the feeling of your slick cum coating his length. He was gliding into you with such ease. He would apologize to you later for this. He pounds into your sensitive cunt, overstimulating you as you cry out. He rams himself into you and stays deep within your pussy. Panting heavily Muzan finally crashes over his own wave of pleasure. Splurting his cum around the walls of your pussy. He doesn’t want to pull out – for one fact he wanted all of his cum to stay within you – and for another fact, you were all the salvation he needed. He could find redemption with you. He rolls you both onto your side, hiking your leg over his hip to make sure he can stay inside of you. 

This was it, you had driven him to the edge and he would make sure to never let anything else touch you. As he gazes upon your soft features drifting off to a satisfied slumber he feels what once was his heart ache. “We should get married.” He blurts out.

[lisired]

DREAM BOYS: slut me out

pairing: shy!jisung x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (before you tap it make sure you wrap it), oral (m) receiving, switch!jisung, switch!reader (at least i think so… i wanna say there’s not really strong dom/sub dynamics here)

summary: The Dream Boys are notorious for banging everything on campus with a pulse and breaking hearts, but every time you see Jisung, you can’t help but think he’s nothing like them; he can barely even look into your eyes.

word count: 5.3k

a/n: i wrote this on a whim lol. as always, feedback is appreciated!

If I was a bad bitch,

I’d wanna fuck me too

There was something about Park Jisung that confused you to no end. 

For one, you wondered how a boy could be so awkward. You weren’t even this bad at your peak of social ineptitude, but he somehow seemed to always be shy and blushing. 

The most baffling thing about him, however, wasn’t just his timid personality and lack of confidence around the opposite sex. It was his ability to get along so well with people who were the complete opposite of him. 

Everybody at your school knew him and his friends collectively as the Dream Boys and they were notorious on campus for allegedly fucking every girl they set their sights on. You had no way of knowing how true that was, but based on nothing but vibes alone, most of them you didn’t doubt one bit. 

Mark, the sweet boy who posted bible quotes on his story every morning. Jeno, the intelligent one who obviously didn’t buy his way into college. Jaemin, the campus heartthrob everyone wanted to bring home to Mama. And Haechan, the party boy who was never not hungover. 

But Jisung was something different entirely. You had no idea why he hung out with them at all. Your interactions with him had been limited thus far, but he stammered out every sentence he spoke and could hardly maintain eye contact. 

There was no way in hell he was a whore. 

The school library had unfortunately become your second home over the past few weeks and you were lounging at a table with your friends when Ryujin whispered, “Looks like the Dream Boys are throwing another Halloween party this year. I hope there’s no more cum punch rumors. I almost threw up because of that shit.”

Yuna winced. Those rumors had positively ruined the drinking last year for everybody. “Dream Boys? More like fuckboys.”

You snickered. You didn’t have a clue where the name came from, but you couldn’t resist quipping, “And what did you think they dreamed about?”

“Pussy,” she answered without hesitation.

You laughed again. The boys were handsome, you would give them that, but they also gave the impression that they were carrying sexually transmitted infections yet to be unearthed by health authorities. 

Ryujin seemed like she was reading from her phone, probably gathering more information about the aforementioned party, and soon enough she chirped, “No worries, guys. Haechan just posted that there will not be any cum punch, but everyone should watch their drink.”

“I won’t be attending,” you replied with total disinterest. “Have fun potentially drinking some random dude’s kids.”

Ryujin groaned, but she had been expecting that response. It was no secret you had something against those boys because of their fuckboy reputation and while she didn’t blame you for that, she didn’t see it as an excuse to skip out on harmless fun. “You’re so boring.”

You shrugged, indifferent. “If boring means spending my free time watching Shemar Moore chase bad guys in two different universes, both of which he’s incredibly sexy in, instead of risking my tongue falling off, then I’ll be that.”

“You both are disgusting,” Yuna said in disapproval. “You want to fuck someone’s bald dad and Ryujin wants to fuck Haechan.”

Ryujin gawked. “That’s a lie!”

Yuna wasn’t convinced. “Admit it. The only reason you want to go to this party after last year’s fiasco is because you know Haechan will be there and you want to suck his dick until the foreskin dries up like a raisin.”

You made a face. The graphic description was putting unholy pictures in your mind that you would rather not see. “Yeah, I’m gonna go. You girls got that,” you told them as you rose from the table, tossing your bag over your shoulder. “I will see you guys when I emerge from my Netflix binging.”

Meanwhile, Jisung was by himself in the break room of the local cafe he worked at trying desperately to think of something that would undo the boner in his pants before his co-workers saw him and teased him to hell and back. It wasn’t even because of a pretty customer this time. He was just daydreaming. 

Was it a smart thing to do while he was at work? No, maybe not. But he couldn’t help it. His mind had been filled with perverted thoughts lately. It was the second week of October and Jisung was attempting to get all of the sexual frustration out of his system before the start of No Nut November.

He had been the first one to lose last year. And the year before that. And the year before that. This year, he needed a turnaround. 

When his boner wouldn’t go down as soon as he’d hoped, Jisung ultimately decided to go wank it in the bathroom as quietly as possible and got back to work. And to his luck, you were standing right there at the counter waiting for someone to take your order. 

Jisung swallowed when he saw you. He had always found you gorgeous and seeing you after orgasming made his brain short-circuit. With a little plan to increase his body count another digit, he went up to the counter and put on his shyest performance. “Hello. What can I get for you today?”

Your brows furrowed. He didn’t sound as bashful as he looked. That said, he sounded like he was donning his customer service voice, and everybody knew that the person you were at work didn’t reflect your true self. “Hi, can I get the Jasmine green tea, please?”

Jisung kept his eyes trained to the screen the entire time, even though he wanted nothing more than to look at you. “Sure thing. Would you like any add-ons?”

“Tapioca pearls. Extra, please.”

God, the way you kept saying, “Please,” was driving him crazy. He knew you were simply being polite, which was more than he could say about some customers he got, but it was making him picture other situations where he could have you begging for him. 

“Will that be everything?” Jisung asked as if his thoughts hadn’t wandered somewhere dangerous.

You nodded your head, taking out your card. “That��s it.”

While you were temporarily distracted by having to pay, Jisung took the opportunity to get a better look at you. His eyes flitted to your lips that were coated in a clear gloss which made them look plumper. It was all he could do not to think about how perfect they would look wrapped around his cock.

“I heard you and your friends are throwing a party tonight,” you mentioned, waiting for your order to be processed. Not that you gave a damn. You just wanted something to talk about. 

Jisung was pleased you didn’t seem to notice his less than clean thoughts, but when you mentioned the party, he stifled a groan. “Yeah, I can’t go. I have a closing shift.”

“Damn, that must suck,” you replied, watching the hint of annoyance spread across his face. “When do you guys close, by the way? I was thinking about getting some work done.”

“We close at nine,” Jisung told you matter-of-factly. “Don’t you usually work in the library?”

You lifted a brow, smiling softly. “Are you keeping tabs?”

Jisung glanced away. Make no mistake, he wasn’t stalking you or anything, but he did happen to see you in the library whenever he popped inside. You were there more often than not. “I see you around every now and then.”

You hummed. “To answer your question, I do usually work in the library, but my friends are being insufferable today and I knew I wasn’t gonna get any work done around them, so I hopped ship.”

Jisung nodded his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get it. My friends are pretty annoying at times too.”

You had an obvious disdain for boys in his group, but for some reason, you were always so nice to him. It was almost as if you had some kind of soft spot. Jisung wondered if he could manipulate that kindness. He figured you must have assumed he wasn’t as bad as the men he surrounded himself with, which couldn’t have been more wrong, but you didn’t need to know that. 

There was no opportunity for you to give him a response, because his co-worker placed your drink in front of you, saying, “Here you go, one Jasmine green tea, extra tapioca pearls.”

You thanked them and glanced back at Jisung, telling him, “I’m gonna go find a seat,” and walked away. 

Jisung was disappointed, but it was better than you leaving. And in truth, it wasn’t so bad, because it gave him a little more time to think of a way of getting you to go home with him. He didn’t want to lose for the fourth year in a row since he started college, and you were a beautiful girl that thought highly of him for whatever reason. 

You were still lingering in the cafe a few hours later and it was that time of night where Jisung had to start excessively wiping counters to appear busy, because he didn’t expect many more customers. 

But you were the only customer in sight and he was the only employee at this hour, so he approached your table and inhaled a deep breath. “Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?”

You glanced up at him, wanting to giggle at how nervous he seemed for whatever reason, but resisting. “Sure.”

Jisung started fidgeting with the rings on his long fingers, which drew your attention to his hands, specifically how big they were. “Can I sit down?”

You wordlessly nodded over at the seat in front of you. 

With one more small glance in the direction of the door, which didn’t appear to be welcoming more customers any time soon, Jisung slid into the booth. You both sat there in silence until he finally willed himself to speak. “So, I was wondering… can I ask you a favor?”

You were tempted to respond with, I wasn’t aware I owed you any. But you were very curious to know where this was going, so you decided to let him get straight to the point. “Depends. What’s the favor?”

“Promise not to tell anyone?” he asked. 

“Sure, I’ll promise,” you replied, nodding. “As long as you’re not about to ask me to hide a body.”

That threw Jisung off guard and he quickly shook his head. “What? No, of course not. Look, uh, I need a favor from you, but it’s something kinda…”

Pushing down the top of your laptop, you held your face in your hands and gave Jisung your undivided attention. You were beginning to suspect that it was a favor of a sexual nature. 

When you looked at him like that, Jisung glanced away. “It’s kinda embarrassing to say, but I was wondering… if I could come to your house.”

Now that was definitely a surprise. “My house?”

Jisung nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Yeah, that’s what I was wondering. I’m sorry, I know it’s weird. I just…”

Your brows furrowed. Jisung had been to your apartment before. Once. Twice, if you counted him having to come back because he forgot his notebook. Either way, you weren’t necessarily friends and it only happened because of an assignment, the fact that the library had been completely packed, and your apartment was nearby. 

“Why?”

“Well… I wanted to know if you could help me with something.”

“You’re so vague,” you teased. “What do you need?”

Jisung exhaled a breath and decided he was just going to come out and say what he meant. “Listen, this is gonna be kinda weird, and if you say no I completely understand and will leave you alone for the rest of my life. But me and my friends are preparing for No Nut November and…”

“And you want to get all of the horny juice out of your system so you don’t nut on the first day like a loser,” you finished for him. It wasn’t that hard to guess, all things considered. “You know it doesn’t work like that, right?”

“It does,” he insisted. He said nothing else, waiting for you to either agree to blessing his cock tonight or let him suffer, and hoping you chose the former. 

You had already made your mind up, but you pretended to be uncertain, shrugging your shoulders. “Why me?”

Much to your surprise, Jisung didn’t skip a beat. “You’re the only girl I didn’t think would judge me.”

And that was exactly how he won you over, because you hurriedly began packing up your things to go home and get a shower before Jisung could get there. Maybe shave too. You didn’t go bald, but a little trim had never hurt anybody. 

Almost the very second his shift ended, Jisung was in his car growing increasingly more frustrated at every encountered red light as he drove as fast as he possibly could without going over the speed limit. 

When he rang the doorbell, you almost immediately answered the door, wearing nothing but a shirt that looked far too big for someone of your stature. “What took you so long?” you asked, widening the door so he could enter. 

“Lots of traffic tonight,” Jisung replied, waltzing inside your house as if his heart wasn’t thumping in his chest at the idea of getting fucked. 

You closed the door and led him to the bedroom. The soft, feminine smell of your body wash clung to you and the scent was already driving him crazy with lust. 

Jisung glanced around your bedroom, happy to be back here again. The last time he was inside your bedroom, he’d seen your panties spilling out of their drawer and it had taken everything in him to focus on the assignment at hand. 

His eyes fell to your delicious legs which were smooth and shiny. No doubt you had just gotten out of the shower. You got ready for him, which had to count for something. You had consented to fucking him, after all, so your interest in him couldn’t have been any more blatant. 

You plopped on your bed, noticing the way he was drinking in the sight of you. “Don’t just stand there,” you said, stifling a giggle. 

Jisung swallowed the unignorable lump in his throat. “What do you want me to do?”

You hummed, pretending to think about it. “Come here.”

He took tentative steps towards your bed. It was adorably pink and fluffy, and he almost felt bad for knowing it was going to be ruined by the time he returned home. Then, he started thinking about what else was pink, and from that point on his mind began reeling with lewd thoughts. 

You had to pull Jisung onto the bed, shoving him onto his back. The gasp he made was cut off by your lips smashing against his as you kissed him like your life depended on it, gently tugging on his black hair. You didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, that was exactly what you wanted. 

It pleasantly surprised you that Jisung was a decent kisser. You could tell he had some kind of experience, which was fair since he was a grown man with very obvious needs, and your panties were pooling with arousal when his hands drifted to your waist as you straddled him, pulling you flush against his rapidly hardening cock. 

As if he wasn’t already struggling to breathe enough, you broke the kiss and began trailing your lips faintly over his jaw. Then his neck. Then his collarbone. He figured you would go down again to his chest, but you went back to his throat and started sucking and nibbling at the flesh. 

“Fuck,” Jisung panted, already worked up and you had barely done anything together so far. He was sure you could feel how hard he was, given that he was pressed right against you, but you went about kissing him as if you had no clue. 

His reactions did make you giggle smugly though, quite proud of yourself. The marks you were leaving at the base of his neck were going to be there for days. Maybe weeks. The room felt hotter now that you were making such a mess of him. He brought his hands up from your perfect waist to your under your shirt, his fingers ghosting over your breasts. 

It was your turn to gasp out. The soft sounds you made did wonders to turn him on. He cupped your chest in his big palms and let his thumb work over the stiffened nipple. All the while, you were beginning to grind against his bulge as your lips wandered here and there, drawing a guttural groan from Jisung’s throat. 

“Oh my god,” he said, stilling your hips with his strong hands. Something your body liked more than you cared to admit.

You met his eyes. They were filled with lust and desire and impatience. “Are you okay?”

Jisung nodded his head, glancing at your body. He was hoping you would get out of that shirt sooner than later. He wanted to see you. “It’s just…,” he trailed, his voice faint. “I’ve never done this before.”

You didn’t gawk. You didn’t laugh. There was no amusement nor was there any surprise. “That’s okay. We can take things slow, if you want.”

“I’d rather not. I like things fast,” Jisung insisted. 

You laughed. “Well, that can be arranged too. Have you ever had a blowjob?”

The thought of you sucking his cock alone nearly made a cold shudder wreck through Jisung’s body. “Once,” he said, trying to keep his composure. “It was a long time ago.”

“Now, we can’t have that,” you replied, crawling off of him to bring your attention to the very prominent bulge in his pants. You could tell he was big and that thought had you salivating. 

Jisung undid his pants hurriedly and tossed them to the ground like they meant nothing, giving you plenty enough time to ruffle through your drawer for something to tie your hair back with. 

With your hair out of the way, you patiently sat on your knees as he got just naked enough that you would be able to suck him off. Maybe deep down you had always wanted to. Jisung was exactly the type of guy you were into - the ones that looked away when a pretty girl complimented them and had a beautiful, shy smile. 

It didn’t surprise you that his cock was just as veiny as his hands were, but it did make your mouth run dry. 

“Sweet Jesus,” you mumbled underneath your breath, knowing that you were in for a treat. 

Jisung resisted a smirk. He knew he had a brag-worthy cock that was enough to make any woman lose her everlasting mind, whether she was going down on him or he was going inside her. You were no exception. Matter of fact, all it took was one look before you got a hold of his cock and spat on his pretty tip. 

He swore quietly, watching you attentively. There wasn’t even a need to get him hard because he had already stiffened from the way you were kissing him and grinding against his dick, so you got straight to work. 

You skipped the slow parts - the teasing bits with your tongue at the tip and base of his cock, and immediately went to the action. Jisung said he liked things fast and so that was exactly what you would give him. And he was going to take it like he’d asked.

“Shit. Shit. Fuck,” he cursed, clutching the sheets. You weren’t wasting any time and he almost couldn’t believe it. 

You hadn’t even waited before taking as much of him into your mouth as you could and that made Jisung’s head spin like he was about to explode. And in a way, that wasn’t necessarily untrue. He already knew this was going to be one of his shorter experiences, but definitely one of his better orgasms. 

Jisung groaned loudly. It was a shock, because he was one of the quietest boys you’d ever met, so it wasn’t too hard for you to guess that he was currently enjoying himself. The sound of his euphoric noises were making you horny and you could feel your panties getting even wetter. 

You wanted to fuck him so bad. It was killing you right now. He was just so perfect; so handsome and cute and easy to provoke. You wanted to draw the most sexy, uncontrollable reactions from him and watch what it did to his little male brain. 

Jisung could tell how much you wanted him and it only aroused him more. You were so fucking eager. You were going to town, sucking him off like you were in love with him, like you were worshiping him, and it got him off to an inexplicable extent. He couldn’t even begin to describe how your mouth felt sealed around him like you wanted to suck him completely dry. 

You ran your hands up his stomach, up his thighs. He was sensitive in more places than one, your touches making his breath hitch in his throat. 

“I’m gonna come,” he warned, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. Not with all the stunts you were pulling.

Damn, already, you thought to yourself, wanting to chuckle. Not that you were actually even remotely surprised. You knew what you were doing; you were ruining him and taking a little piece of him to serve as a reminder of your victory. 

You didn’t slow down. If anything, you went even faster, your head bobbing up and down his shaft like you wanted to eat him for every meal of every goddamn day. Jisung winced his eyes clothed and accepted his fate, knowing he was merely seconds away from the heat in his stomach unfurling. 

With the last piece of his self-control officially waning now that you were sucking his dick like you had something to prove, Jisung involuntarily began thrusting into your mouth, messily fucking your throat with every intention of getting himself off. You let him. At the moment, you were just pleased you’d driven him mad. 

And that you knew for sure, because the buildup of ecstasy at short last began to overflow and Jisung couldn’t take it anymore. He gave one final long, deep moan as he released down your throat and clasped your sheets for purchase, convulsing with the effort. 

Jisung was shaking. When his eyes finally opened, all he saw was you swallowing his load even though he hadn’t asked you to, and it made him burn from the inside out. 

You grinned when he withdrew from your mouth and glanced up to meet his eyes, watching him struggle to find words. “You good?” you asked, shifting on your knees. 

Jisung nodded, but that word didn’t even begin to capture the feeling he had inside right now. That was a revolutionary nut. “I… yeah. I’m good.”

Getting up from your knees, you ignored the faint ache in them and asked, “Do you wanna fuck now?”

“God, yes,” Jisung replied in a heartbeat, stroking himself back rigid. It would happen in no time. 

When he was hard, he gathered you in his arms and tossed you unceremoniously onto the bed, a gasp escaping your mouth as your back met the mattress. Jisung ordered you to raise your hips, which you did on command, and he slipped your panties from underneath you to throw them wherever his pants were. Still unsatisfied, he tugged at your shirt too until you were completely naked.

The sight of you made him hold his breath. Your smooth skin and supple breasts and kissable tummy. He slipped a hand between your legs, wondering if he should return the favor before he fucked you, but he was surprised by how wet you had gotten from giving him pleasure. 

“You really are something else,” he mumbled, running his arousal-slicked fingers over his throbbing dick. 

You laughed, debating what to do with your legs, and ultimately deciding on draping them over his broad shoulders. Jisung groaned, having imagined one too many times how your cunt would feel as he pushed in and out of it silkily, and concluding that there was no point in drawing things out, he slipped between your slick folds. 

He growled in pleasure immediately, because both the way your pussy welcomed him in with ease and the way it invitingly throbbed around him was making him unravel. It was completely insane. The power you had over him right now was lethal and he couldn’t believe how wet and snug you were just for him. 

“Oh, god,” you moaned out, because suddenly your legs on him weren’t enough and you detangled them from his shoulders to wrap around his slim waist instead so that it would be easier to lock your arms around him as well. 

It took a long moment for Jisung to will himself to open his eyes, because they had been winced closed since the moment he felt you tightening around him. He looked you in the eyes. “Is this okay?” he asked softly. 

You nodded your head. His cock was long and thick and veiny and everything in between. You were in a world between heaven and earth, elevating to the gods and struggling to stay grounded. “It’s perfect, baby. Fuck me just like that.”

Jisung felt dizzy. He knew he had been right in choosing you. It wasn’t every girl that could leave him on the cusp of insanity with both her throat and her pussy, and he was still reeling from the head you’d given him. His whole body was scalding with lust and passion as he reaped pleasure from your body with every labored thrust. 

You couldn’t get enough how he felt stroking against your walls and it showed in the way you were kneading and gushing around his cock. The tension in the air was exhilarating, throttling. You grappled his forearms to keep him close, not wanting to be separated when he was fucking you this good. 

“Can you say my name?” Jisung asked, his voice thick with desire. 

“Jisung,” you called out softly, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts in a perfect sync. You simply couldn’t help yourself. This would be your undoing. 

Jisung swore underneath his breath, unable to control the way his stammering hips reacted to the hint of breathlessness in your voice, and smoothed his palms over your beautiful, bare body. He ran his fingers over your cheek, your neck, your chest and your thighs. 

He knew he needed to make you come if he cared about not absolutely humiliating himself, because he was going to unravel in a matter of minutes. With that thought, he stuck his hand between your legs and thumbed your clit, asking, “How does that feel?”

You cried out his name again, shuddering with sensitivity. Your heart was hammering in your chest and pounding in your ears and the throbbing between your legs was brutal. If he was trying to finish you, it was working. You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer. 

Jisung took that as a sign that you liked it and he continued rubbing the sensitive nub, all the while giving you those long, deep strokes you seemed to be enjoying. You couldn’t breathe through the ecstasy. The way he was stretching you out and bringing you high made you feel as if you could choke. 

You trembled beneath him, torn between taking his cock and arching away from the pleasure. “Oh my god. Fuck. I’m gonna come,” you said, feeling the sweat clinging to your skin. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was lying about being a virgin. 

That drew a grunt out of Jisung in anticipation. He didn’t stop touching your clit, didn’t stop stroking your sweet spot. “You gonna come for me?”

You nodded your head vigorously. The rhythm of his thrusts and the relentlessness of his hand between your legs was going to make you see stars. Of that you were certain. Your mouth hung open, gasping for breath, struggling to breathe in the stuffy air. 

Then it finally rammed into you like a freight train and you let out a mangled cry of Jisung’s name as you reached your peak. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. You begged for mercy, overcome. Undone. Your face tensed and you throbbed around his cock over and over, your entire body unstill. 

When you tried to squirm away from it, Jisung held you securely in his arms so that you had no option but to take the pleasure he was giving you, and everything about it made you feel faint. 

He only released you when you went slack against the sheets, the most empty look in your stare as if your soul had been completely snatched from your body, and he couldn’t but moan. God fucking damn. 

Jisung kept fucking you through your orgasm, knowing that his was right around the corner, especially with how you had clamped around him like a noose as you came and the soft moans you were making as he tried to get himself off. It was classic mutually assured destruction. 

You were hyper aware of the wet sound of his hips smacking into yours echoing out on the walls, even wetter now that you had orgasmed on his cock. Knowing the effect he had on you somehow turned you on. You were still trying to collect yourself after having one hell of an orgasm, throwing your arms around his body again. 

“Mm. Jisung, come. I want you to come,” you purred, rubbing your hands down his back. 

Jisung was losing his mind. He knew he was a goner the second you said that and thus he begrudgingly withdrew from your soaked pussy, flipped you onto your stomach, and started to stroke himself the rest of the way with his fist. 

In a matter of seconds, he was groaning so close to and simultaneously too far from your ear, landing a stripe of his cum on your ass as he winced his eyes closed for the nth time. You looked behind you in time to see his face tensing and his lips parted in a perfect deep moan that had you clenching around nothing.

Jisung dropped beside you like a deadweight and tried to gather his breath. His mind was staggering from the orgasm and the tight feel of your cunt around his cock and he wasn’t going to be capable of thinking straight for the next hour or so. 

When you at last willed yourself to move, you brushed the hair out of his face and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jisung replied, nodding. “Are you?”

“I’m good,” you told him, grinning from ear to ear. You were hoping he wouldn’t leave without your number. The sex was a little too good not to happen again. 

Jisung bobbed his head again. He slowly sat up, knowing his head would spin if he got up too fast, and said, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You hummed in response, watching his back as he grabbed his pants and stepped out of the room. 

When he was in the bathroom, Jisung whipped out his phone from the pocket of his pants and texted his group chat. 

jisung: just lost my virginity for the 28th time not that i’m counting

mark: lmfaooo how long are these girls gon fall for that shit 

jeno: for real, he lies more than jaemin

jaemin: ntm on me. but i’m impressed he’s kept it up for this long 

haechan: come on. all he has to do is stutter and they’re like aweeee jisungie wungie is your cock heavy? here let me hold that for you

Jisung rolled his eyes and put his phone away. All he knew was the sex was amazing and he was coming back for seconds; you would be the perfect place to dump his cum before the start of November. 

And he wasn’t losing.

[gurugirl]

Truth or Dare | slumber party!h

Summary: Y/n's coworker, Harry, has never been to a slumber party so she decides to remedy that and give him a sleepover he'll never forget.

A/N: Based off this request. Thanks anon! I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6,752

Warning: smut

. . .

By her third glass of chardonnay, her stomach was feeling the acid from the wine but she was having such a good time talking to Harry from the operations department that she didn’t care. She’d have another before calling it a night. Just one more glass so she could sit with him a little longer and listen to him talk and watch as he ran his finger along the edge of his pint glass.

He was probably looking at her like he was because he was also three pints of lager in and he was kind so he was holding eye contact to be polite. Certainly, it wasn’t because he found her attractive (though she’d have welcomed that).

The company’s management meeting was long over and everyone else had gone home but Harry and Y/n stayed for another round. They rarely ever got to talk at the office. She’d always wanted to pick his brain about why he decided to move to the US and how, of all companies, he chose to work at Dunn Services.

Y/n laughed on cue as he mentioned something from his childhood with his sister having her friends over to stay the night. He grinned, a healthy row of teeth aimed at her before he looked down and laughed at himself, “In truth? I never did have a sleepover or anything like that.”

“Really? Surely you had friends…”

Harry nodded, “Oh yeah I had a lot of friends. But I never stayed over at anyone’s and they never came over to mine either. Just… I don’t know. Never happened.”

Placing her nearly empty glass down she turned and waved with a smile as the waitress walked by, “Can we get another round, please?”

“How are you getting home?” Harry asked when she faced him, crossing her leg over her knee toward him.

“Taxi. You?”

“Might walk. I’m not far from here.”

Nodding she placed her elbows on the table, “So, I think that you’ve missed out on an integral right of passage, having never had a slumber party. You should definitely remedy that at some point. I highly recommend a fun sleepover. In fact, if you need pointers on what to do during a sleepover, I’m your gal.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your go-to during a slumber party?” Harry teased before taking another sip of his beer.

“Well, I think there are like two main components. The first is entertainment and I’m always keen on a good movie, or a dumb one, either way… a movie for sure if I’m picking. Some people like to play board games or whatever, but I like to stuff myself into a pile of blankets and pillows and just lie, or drape,” she spoke using her arms to demonstrate herself draping into pillows. “Occasionally, if the mood is right, I’ll enjoy a little truth or dare.”

“Got it. A movie and maybe if the mood is right, truth or dare. And what’s the second component.”

Y/n crossed her fingers together and raised her brows as if she were about to say something very important, “Snacks. Beverages. Good ones. Usually just small bites but here’s my list…” She cleared her throat, “Buttered popcorn, and possibly potato chips. Definitely something chocolatey, and maybe something like a cookie or a snack cake. If not potato chips then tortilla chips and if it’s tortilla chips, salsa should also definitely be on the menu.”

Harry held back the laugh in his throat as he nodded, “Wow. Okay. What about like a burger or Chinese food? Would that be allowed?”

Y/n shrugged, “It’s your party. You can do what you want. I’m just telling you what I’d do and what would be a hit with your sleepover buddy.”

Harry breathed out a laugh. Y/n could tell he was getting bashful. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. She watched him for a few seconds before the waitress returned with their drinks.

A quick gulp of wine and she nudged at his shin with her shoe, “You wanna have a slumber party with me?”

Harry blinked and tilted his head, “What? You mean… Seriously?”

She shrugged, “Why not? Then next time someone asks if you’ve ever had a proper slumber party you can say that you have.”

He laughed loudly, his husky voice was like music to her ears. Pointing at her with his finger he grinned, “Now how I can argue with that? I mean,” he shook his head, a glint in his eye, “Every time someone asks me if I’ve been to a slumber party and I tell them I haven’t, it’s such a disappointment! The look on their faces when they realize my whole childhood was a sham…”

They both laughed, leaning in toward one another, tittering toward the edges of their stools.

Harry tilted his head, “Actually I think it sounds fun. You just name the day and I’ll be there.”

Y/n smiled at him. She knew it was crazy. Having a grown man at her place for a slumber party. Typically adults didn’t have those kinds of sleepovers – it was usually with the intent of something far more salacious. But she’d show him a good time, she thought, raising her glass toward his, “Deal.”

.                 .                 .

Y/n had her sofa bed pulled out and piled high with extra blankets and pillows. She had all her favorite snacks plus she ordered cheeseburgers and fries for the guest of the night. It was silly. Truly she hadn’t had a real slumber party in ages, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of excitement that she’d be hanging out with Harry all night. It was possible that her small crush on him was making her feel all giddy but she’d push down that feeling until he gave her any extenuating signals.

Because the truth was that they were both single, young adults and this was such an unlikely scenario. No one would look at this and say Oh how cute of these two grown adults hanging out in bed together for a sleepover. So innocent! No, she knew better. While maybe nothing would actually happen it certainly wouldn’t look innocent.

And of course, she did pick out the perfect pijama set. Something a little more flattering on her body but not too hey I really need to get laid tonight. It was a happy compromise. Cotton shorts and a button-up, matching short-sleeved top. This was just supposed to be a slumber party after all.

Right?

Besides, the little paper invitation she gave him on Monday morning told him to arrive in his sleepwear so she had to look the part. And not to toot her own horn but she made a very cute invitation just for him tucked into a pink envelope with a separate little response card that had space at the bottom for him to mark yes or no if he could come. It was a yes. Obviously.

When Harry finally arrived he was wearing a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt. And for some fucking bizarre reason he looked so much hotter than he did when he wore his well-fitted suits at work.

Because goddamn did his shirt somehow just hug his torso in all the right spots and it allowed her to take a good look at all tattoos on his arms that were normally hidden under brushed wool jackets or long-sleeved button-up shirts. She knew he had tattoos. She’d seen him roll up his sleeves a couple of times but she never wanted to be rude and stare for long.

And then the sweatpants, while loose in the legs, fit his waist and hips and…

“You okay?” Harry was still standing in the doorway with his backpack draped over his arm waiting to be invited in.

“Yeah, sorry. Not used to seeing you dressed down like this. Almost unrecognizable.”

Harry let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling as Y/n stepped aside to let him in, “Would you like to see my ID? Swear I’m the Harry Styles, the guy you invited over for chips, popcorn, and truth or dare. I’ve even got your invite somewhere in my bag…”

She breathed a laugh through her nose and watched him enter into her space, “Movies too. Oh, and I also ordered cheeseburgers. Remembered that you mentioned that.”

He seemed quite pleased with the burgers as she handed him the bag. She got those small ones, five to an order, “Thanks. Fries too, huh?” He reached into the bag and pulled out three crinkle-cut french fries then stuffed them into his mouth.

“So should we settle in and pick out a movie?” She gestured toward her couch.

Harry had seen the pull-out couch with heaps of pillows and blankets when he walked in. He knew that that would be where they’d be spending most of the evening. It was the glaring thing about the whole slumber party slash sleepover. That they’d be probably sleeping next to one another. As two young, healthy, attractive adults.

“Sure,” he nodded and waited for her to pick which side she was going to take before climbing in next to her, the thin mattress and metal frame giving way gently under his weight before he leaned back against a mountain of pillows, bag of burgers safe in his hands.

Y/n had a few video streaming services at the ready and they settled on a cheesy comedy from the late 90s before Y/n reached over to her coffee table and then lined up all the snacks between them.

They chatted a little, having both seen the movie already. Topics were anything from what their plans were for the rest of the weekend to what they’d eaten for lunch at work. And it was only a little awkward when they both reached into the bowl of M&M’s at the same time, fingers brushing together.

Harry moved his hand away, “Sorry. You go…”

Y/n grinned at him, scooping a handful of candy into her palm, and then sat up, adjusting her seating as she crossed her legs together, “Wanna do truth or dare? Pretend like we’re 15 again having a sleepover. Really get into the whole slumber party vibe, ya know?”

Harry dug out a few M&M’s and let out a chesty laugh, “If I’m 15 again we’re in big trouble.”

Y/n snorted a laugh, “Why? What do you mean?”

He shook his head, a wide grin on his face with deep set dimples carved into each cheek as he turned his head to look at her, “If this were happening when I was 15 I’d already be in the bathroom hyperventilating and probably trying to will away a boner after our hands touched in the M&M’s bowl.”

Y/n guffawed and threw her head back, nearly choking on her bite of chocolatey candies as Harry laughed with her. Honestly, it was the best icebreaker she could have asked for. Things had been kind of clunky between them up until that moment as they were still trying to navigate how to act around one another. And she knew he was teasing but the good belly laugh that she got from Harry’s story was exactly what they needed.

“Okay fine. We’ll just keep going about it as adults then. No fifteen-year-olds here tonight,” Y/n chuckled as she shoveled a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth.

Y/n kept her eyes on him as she chewed her mouthful, “So truth or dare?”

Harry cocked his head at her, “So the mood is right then? For truth or dare?”

Y/n’s brows furrowed, “The mood?”

“Yeah. You said it over drinks. Remember when you were telling me what the most important components are to a sleepover and you said you liked truth or dare if the mood was right.”

Nodding slowly, she thought back to what she’d said, “Yeah. I guess I did say that. And I mean… I think the mood’s right for a little truth or dare. Movie’s almost over and you just pretty much kicked us off with that truth.” A breathy laugh was pushed from her mouth.

She could tell Harry was mulling on another question as he bit the inside of his cheek, head tilting in agreement, “So that means it’s your turn. Truth or dare?”

Biting her lip as she pondered, she pressed her back into the soft pillows behind her, “Truth.”

Harry shifted to his side, long legs stretching the length of the mattress as he propped his head up in his hand, a pillow under his arm, “Have you ever kissed a co-worker before?”

Scoffing Y/n moved to her side, mimicking Harry’s position on her side, “No,” she grinned. It was true. She’d never once done anything with any of her coworkers. Having Harry over at her house was the closest she’d ever gotten to doing anything like that. “Now you. Truth or dare?”

His green eyes slid over her features, “Truth.”

She laughed to herself, trying to think of something funny, “How many stuffed animals do you own?”

Licking his lips he nodded, “Think maybe two? Gifts from my niece… Truth or dare?”

“Mmm… dare,” she giggled.

Harry lifted a brow, “Ahhh… feeling bold yeah? Okay… hmm…” He pursed his lips to the side as he considered the dare. “Read to me the last text you sent to anyone. And you have to show me to prove it was the last one. And it can’t be any texts you and me, cause that’s not fair.”

Y/n blinked. She wasn’t exactly sure what her last text was besides Harry. But she was slightly worried because if it was what she was thinking… lifting up her message app she scrolled down to the text thread below Harry’s and it was a text with her sister. Which was what she had been worried about. She gulped, hoping that the things she said about her “coworker” who was coming to stay with her weren’t the last things she and her sister texted about.

Puffing out a breath she covered up all the previous texts to show Harry the last text from her sister – God knows you need it. Sending you good vibes, sis ;)

Harry squinted as he looked at the message and pointed, “That’s to you. The dare was to show me the last text you sent to someone. Let’s see it…”

Feeling her neck heat up she angled the phone away from him and read what she’d sent her sister. And there was no mention of Harry but if he were even halfway decent at picking up clues he might be able to figure out what was being discussed prior.

She shook her head and looked up at him. She couldn’t believe she was about to show him what was on her screen. But a dare was a dare. What was the worst that could happen?

lol I doubt anything will happen but I wouldn’t turn him down. Got condoms just in case 😜 send all your good vibes my way

Harry’s brows squished together as he looked at the text and back to Y/n and then down again at the words on her screen. She saw his throat bob and she knew the look on his face. He fucking knew what that was. He had to know.

She had to look away. She pulled the phone down and killed the screen. The awkwardness between them thick and uncomfortable as she peeked back at him. The edge of his mouth was pulled upward in a smirk, “That’s to your sister?”

Nodding she blew out an exasperated breath, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Harry grinned as he positioned his knee closer to Y/n, his eyes still on hers, “Dare.”

Swallowing her embarrassment down the best she could she decided to ask him the same, “Now show me the last text you sent anyone besides me.”

Harry’s smartass grin told her all she needed to know. That his last text probably wasn’t nearly as risqué as hers.

And it wasn’t. Not even close.

You can have two pounds for free. I’ve got so many growing I can’t keep up. As long as you come to pick them up on Monday they’re yours.

“I have a bunch of zucchini growing in my garden,” Harry pulled the phone away and laid it down next to his hip. “Got a neighbor who wants some.”

Of course, his last text to anyone was about zucchini. Jesus, she was so far out of her depth.

He was still wearing that shit-eating grin as he said, “Truth or dare, Y/n?”

And the way he said her name, all slow and sexy-like had her insides heating up. Well, maybe she made up the sexy part but he was definitely teasing her. She could just feel it.

“Truth.”

She was sure she’d regret that. Truth or dare. It didn’t matter. She was still reeling from showing him her texts.

“Was that text about me?” Shit-eating grin in place as he asked. Fucker.

Y/n’s eyes grew wide dropping her mouth open in surprise. Of course, he was going to ask that. Of course!

“Oh come on, Harry…” she pleaded.

He lifted his brows and awarded her a larger grin with those cute indents scoring into his cheeks, “Them’s the rules, baby. You chose truth and now you have to be honest.”

Clearing her throat she sat up to her bottom and leaned forward so she didn’t have to look at him as she put her head in her hands and laughed in disbelief, “Jesus. Seriously?”

“Yep. Spill. Let’s hear it.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. It was about you.”

Keeping her eyes on her lap she waited for a smug remark. Some kind of teasing reply but it was quiet. Slowly she turned to look back at him and he was still lying on his side, head in his palm as he watched her, his eyes fixed to hers.

She shrugged, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Harry flattened his lips and squinted at her before cocking his head, “Hold on… Really? That was about me?”

Sighing she rolled her eyes, “Yes. Sorry. I was… it was just funny… it was me joking around with my sister is all.”

He blinked and looked down at the space between them as he nodded, “Okay. I see. So you didn’t actually mean it?”

“Well… I guess… We were joking. Obviously, nothing has to happen. I would never expect that. I…” she breathed out exasperated.

“Obviously nothing has to happen. Did you want it to happen?” His pupils were pinned to hers again.

Opening her mouth she stopped herself for a moment. She knew her answer was yes but she didn’t want to come off like a creep. She hadn’t expected it and assumed it wouldn’t. But the truth remained; she hoped it would happen.

Deflating her posture she laid back to her side to face Harry, tucking a pillow into her chest, “The truth is that I think you’re attractive and I haven’t been with anyone in kind of a long time and… she knows that, my sister. So we were just… it was lighthearted but yeah I mean… without any expectations, cause I would never… I hope you know that. But I did think it would be nice.”

“Nice. Yeah. I agree. It would be nice. And just so you know,” he swung his head to look over his shoulder before looking back at her, “I brought condoms as well. You know… just in case.”

She was a bit stunned at that. Was he…

“Dare me to kiss you,” he grinned, irises dropping to her lips for a second before looking back into her eyes.

She laughed, “That’s not how the game works. The rules are you can’t–”

“Fuck the rules. Dare me to kiss you.”

Shaking her head with a wide smile stretched across her face she felt like her skin was pricking as her heartbeat picked up. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

Looking back into his eyes she inhaled deeply, “Fine. I dare you to kiss me.”

Harry’s smirk was unreal. The way he dragged his gaze over her face and down to her mouth was almost lewd, “Didn’t need to play truth or dare to get me to kiss you, Y/n,” he scooted in, grabbing the pillow she had tucked into her chest and tossing it away before he drew a hand up to her face, “You just needed to ask.”

She held her breath as he closed in slowly until it was as if all the tension in the room had popped and fizzled when his lips met hers.

He was so soft and gentle. Lips winding easily, carefully at first. And then she parted her lips more, kissing him back and letting her mouth press into his bottom lip before their tongues were meshed.

She moved her knee out to stabilize herself and knocked over the bowl of popcorn between them. Laughing into his mouth she gasped as she parted from him but he only reached for her again, placing his palm at the back of her head to pull her mouth back against his with a grunt from his chest as he pushed the bowl away and drove his arm underneath her side to keep her from getting too far.

Harry was softly moaning as his tongue worked its way into her mouth gently. It was clear he’d wanted to kiss her. That he liked it. And that notion made her head spin combined with the feel of his thumb traveling over her jaw. There was not going to be any stopping the momentum that had begun.

Well, except for when the bowl of M&M’s poured out against her leg. She had to push at him. As much as she would have loved to have kept making out, she would not have been able to enjoy melted chocolate on her legs or the bedsheets tucked around the mattress (think of the scrubbing she’d need to do!).

“Sorry,” she panted and looked down at the smashed pieces of popcorn and the chocolate candies strewn between them, “I’ve gotta pick this up. Our body heat will melt all these and it’s gonna be a big mess.”

Harry grinned, “Why don’t we just move this party to your bed for a little bit? Clean up later? The M&M’s won’t melt if we’re not laying on them.”

She laughed, already feeling overwhelmed and overheated from the kiss and now he was suggesting taking it to her bed? This was really happening, wasn’t it? She nodded and they both moved off the sofa sleeper to their feet, Harry following behind Y/n as she led him to her bedroom.

She already had her bedside lamp on. Bed made perfectly, everything tucked in and neat.

She turned to look at him and he stepped against her, palm splaying at her low back, “I dare you to get onto your bed and take your clothes off.”

A small laugh burst from her chest, “Oh, so now we’re just doing dares?”

He nodded, “Making up our own rules for this game. S’more fun this way.”

Letting go of her he watched as she stepped backward toward her bed and began to unbutton her nightshirt until it was shed from her body before she pushed her shorts down her legs. She was left in a pretty white bralette (something soft for bedtime) that stretched around her breasts and a pair of thin cotton panties that matched. She kneed up onto her bed and let her feet dangle off the edge and pointed, “Now I dare you to take off your clothes.”

He peeled his white t-shirt off, his hair mussing in the process. She watched with her lips parted at the gorgeous man stripping before her. Not only was he built exactly like what she dreamed of (tattoos, beefy, muscular, a touch soft, very masculine) but the boner tenting his sweats was hard not to home in on.

Harry stuck his fingers into the waistband and looked up at her, “M’not wearing any underwear, so be warned…”

She swallowed as the material lowered, belly button, happy trail, a bit of dark hair and then he pulled the stretchy waistband away from his body so his cock could push free and she was already clenching at just the sight as he removed his sweatpants, cock full and heavy between his strong thighs.

Jesus Christ.

Harry stepped forward, nudging himself between her knees and she leaned back to look up at him, “I dare you to take off the rest of this. Since I’m completely naked feels only fair.”

She bit her lip and looked down at his girthy dick. He was clearly not shy of his body, standing there like that, cock right in front of her. But why should he be shy when he looked like that?

Scooting back further into the bed she got up to her knees and pulled the bralette off first, feeling the heat of his gaze on her tits as she then slid her panties down her thighs. She wasn’t nearly as confident as Harry was as she quickly pulled at her top blanket and covered herself with a small laugh.

Harry stepped forward, one knee on the mattress before climbing in next to her, nosing at her cheek softly before his lips were connected to hers again. And she melted into him just like before. His mouth was magic or something because before she realized it, he’d pulled the blankets off her body and he had a big palm sliding up her thigh and over her hip, “Don’t cover up. So pretty. Knew you would be.”

She pushed her fingers into his thick wavey hair and felt her side hit the mattress as Harry pulled at her again, mouth still smeared against hers. He grabbed at her thigh, hitching it over his hip as he tucked in closer and it was warm and she could feel it. Feel him against her hip.

His giant hand smoothed against her bottom and up her spine until he was wrapping his long fingers around the back of her neck. Y/n nudged in closer, driving her hips forward until she was practically straddling him. So Harry took that as his cue to move to his back, taking her hips in his hands so she’d follow with him.

It had caught her off guard, the sudden change in position but her lips never stopped moving with his. Their kisses were wet and she could smell their saliva, and a touch of onion even from the burgers he’d eaten.

He guided her hips down, his thick cock hot under her thigh until she felt her pussy drag against warm skin at the base of his dick. A small gasp escaped her mouth as he pulled her up, letting her pussy glide up his length, “So wet already, Y/n…”

She was. It was embarrassing. Every inch of his shaft her pussy dragged against, coated him, wetted his skin. He kept pushing and pulling at her hips, using her slippery pussy like a soft wet toy he could run up and down his length.

Then she felt his fingers move around to her backside, digits sliding against her pussy as he licked into her mouth.

Gently she rolled against him and when she moved herself further down he pushed a fingertip inside, “Go on. Fuck yourself on my finger a little bit,” he whispered against her mouth.

He was filthy. She had no idea. He’d always been so sweet at work. So polite and respectful. But here he was reaching around her ass to get a finger inside of her cunt as she rubbed her pussy over his cock.

She panted into his mouth as she slid down around his finger, her clit smushed into his dick, slippery as she rolled up and down. But then he began to assist as he added another finger and began to fuck into her pussy, letting his digits curve into her the best he could from his angle. Slushy wet, she stopped moving her hips and parted from the kiss as she looked down at him. She could tell she was gushing all over his palm and probably his dick as she moaned.

“S’that feel good. You’re gettin’ my fingers all wet like it feels good.”

Nodding she gasped, “Yeah. Feels so good…”

Harry rutted up against her, his cock still pressed into her clit, and she panted, eyes still searing into his. She didn’t want to look away. She almost couldn’t believe he was in her bed fingering her like that.

“Your turn to dare me to do something. What do you want, Y/n?”

She moaned and closed her eyes. She was certain of what she wanted as she listened to the way his fingers gushed with each plunge into her.

“Fuck… dare you to… put on a condom.”

She popped her eyes open to peer down at him as he slid his fingers out of her, wiping her arousal on her ass, “They right here?” He moved his hand toward her bedside table, a knuckle tapping at the wood.

Climbing off of him she opened the drawer, “Yeah, a whole box. Hold on…”

Reaching over to pull out the condoms she felt Harry’s hands on her hips as he moved to sit up, then his lips were on her back, dotting warm kisses to her shoulder blades as she finally plucked a condom from the fresh box.

She watched him put the condom on and as expected, it didn’t cover his entire length. He was kind of a big guy. Well, maybe there was no kind of about it. Before today she had no idea he was packing like that. Though he always did come off as very confident and sure of himself.

She bit her lip as she watched him toss the wrapper away and then he kneed up to her, arm sliding to her back and carefully lowering her to the bed before spreading her legs apart as he fit himself there, sturdy thighs pushing against her soft ones.

“Gonna tell your sister her good vibes worked?” He smirked down at her, hands scouring her hips and tummy and then kneading softly at her tits.

Y/n laughed and reached a hand down to his knee before he pulled at her, making her thighs drape over his as he inched in closer.

“Hmm?” He was awfully teasing, she thought, grinning at her waiting for an answer.

“Probably,” she spit out in a laugh.  

Harry gripped at her thighs, lifting her a bit more to fit her bum over his bent knees and she wanted to scream in embarrassment when she realized he was inspecting her sodden vulva. She’d gotten herself all tidied up for him, should anything like this happen, so at least she had that going for her.

He smoothed his thumb through her pussylips, spreading them apart, and softly blew out a breath, “That is very pretty. Think we get him in there?”

She rolled her eyes as she watched him wrap his palm around his base and lay his fat cock over her mons, the condomed-tip reaching to her belly button, maybe further past, “Well, it’s made for it, so I’m pretty sure–”

“What… your pussy’s made to fit around my cock?” A cocky dimpled smirk gave way to a laugh.

“You know what I meant. It’s meant to… like…” she breathed out a laugh.

“Oh, I know… just fucking with you, Y/n.”

He gazed at her as he reared back, painting his cockhead through her labia, up and down, a soft bump into her clit before he repeated, spreading her soft lips apart as he watched the way his crown smeared her arousal between her creases.

When she moaned and wiggled her hips he pointed himself right at her little muscle, nudging softly forward, opening it up for himself. And she felt that first push, the way his tip fit into her, spreading apart and then stretching to accommodate his circumference.

“Oh god…” she breathed as he slipped in halfway and then pulled back.

“Almost there,” he panted as he kept his eyes on where they were connected, pushing and pulling back until she was swallowing him whole, his cock enveloped in her soft, warm pussy.

When he’d buried in whole, he moaned and watched her face twist up in ecstasy. Her lips were dropped open and her neck stretched long as she grasped onto the forearm of the hand he had gripping her waist.

Slowly he began to thrust, viscous liquid seeping from her pussy and sticking to his shaft. It was filthy. She was so wet that every time he bottomed out there was a splat and a plap sounding between them.

She let out a deep moan and her lips curled up, humid breath escaping her mouth as she felt him driving into her guts. He was taking it easy. Languidly fucking into her with wet claps every time he plunged in.

When her cunt was taking him easier and she was dripping down to her ass he moved in a little harder, faster. Angling himself over her, a palm down on the mattress so he could work into her with more gusto.

“Ah! Harry…” she squeaked at the stronger thrusts and clung onto his lats. He was panting, lips parted and pink, a curl falling over his forehead as he plowed into her splooshing pussy.

“Fuck you’re wet. Pussy is gushing, Y/n…”

Her brows pushed together as she gasped, her body knocked upward every time his hips met hers making her tits bounce. Harry didn’t know where to keep his focus. He loved watching his cock disappear into her hole but he kind of liked being right over her so he could see her face crinkle up every time he bottomed out and then her pretty breasts sway up and down. Or maybe he’d like to fuck her from behind, watch her ass jiggle as he pounded into her.

“Mmm… fuck that’s big!”

Harry groaned, “Yeah? Sure know how to sweet talk a man don’t you, pretty? S’hurt?”

She watched his face, a lusty grin, droopy eyelids as he continued muscling his way in deep.

She hissed when he bucked in, as if he was showing off just how deep he could push in and she coughed out, “Mmm… a little!”

Harry was going to lose his mind with her if she kept squeaking out moans and splatting around his cock like she was but he would be a gentleman and pull back a touch. Slowing down a little he sat up and moved his hand between them, smushing his thumb into her clit, which was so sticky wet even that swished and slid under the pad of his digit.

“Yessss…” she breathed out before murmuring on about how good it felt. “Oh fuck, that’s it. Oh god… please don’t stop… Harry, fuck, yes…”

The clit. The magical little nob that worked wonders as long as the man knew where to find it. Clearly, Harry knew right where it was. Knew how to circle over it, pressing against it just right. Knew how to fuck into her as well. Sliding his length through her vaginal walls, spreading her open, and grazing against her gummy little spot on the inside that had her buzzing and liquifying for him.

He watched her whine and squirm under him, loving how she was so into it. God that was an ego boost, “Like that, Y/n? Gonna come for me? Yeah?”

Her ears were already ringing when she lost herself, gripping around him and crying out as her orgasm washed through her tummy. Harry’s cock made her feel so full, so incredibly stuffed to the brim that it weighed her down and she could hardly move as he bulldozed into her, the pad of his thick thumb smushing fast circles over her throbbing nub.

Fucking her through it he gasped at how she spasmed and milked around him, her pussy trying to siphon his come right through his condom. But Harry wouldn’t come just yet. He had something to prove. Wanted to make a show of his prowess and give her something to tell her sister about.

So when she was finally calmed and her pussy wasn’t clamping around him like a vice grip he slid his hand under her head and kissed her gently, speaking low and soft against her lips, “Gonna have you flip over, okay? Just need a little more yeah?”

When he parted from the kiss she blinked up at him, fluttering lashes and out of breath, “You didn’t come?”

He shook his head, pulling himself out, gently before he placed his hands on her hips, “Not yet. I will soon, though. M’right on the edge. Won’t take me long.”

She rolled to her side as he lifted her hips and helped her get to her tummy. She felt his hands on her ass, squeezing and rubbing each meaty globe in his big palms. Then he was straddling her thighs as he spread her gently and she felt him push his thick tip back into her pussy, sharp and hot. It was tighter, felt a lot fuller like that as he began driving in deep and then pulling out to his tip, before plowing back into the hilt.

His moans grew louder and, even he could admit, sounded quite whiny, pathetic. He was shaking as he watched his dick spread her in half, her soft ass jiggling as he smacked into her, skin patting, his cock leaking precum steadily into his condom.

He hissed when it felt too good. His balls squeezing and his fat dick throbbing inside of her. He thrusted forward, landing a palm down next to her shoulder, his chest pressed into her back as he rutted himself in, tucking his cock through her insides and puffed out a hot groan into her ear, “Fuck you feel good. Gonna make me come, baby…”

She moaned and nodded, “Come for me, Harry…”

He might have held out for another thirty seconds, possibly a minute longer but her breathy words, all sultry and pleading had him pumping into his condom in an instant. He gargled on a moan and squeezed his eyes closed as he buried in and stilled his hips, ass flexing so he could push in further if it were possible.

Y/n felt him crushing her back as he collapsed over her, panted breaths in her ear, cock still throbbing in the aftermath of his orgasm.

She didn’t mind it. Liked his weight on her like that. Enjoyed the way he seemed just as fucked out as she was. She could even feel his heart pounding in his chest against her back.

With a moan, she turned her head and nuzzled her face into her blanket with her eyes closed. She’d fall asleep that way if he couldn’t get up. It was quite warm and comforting. Like a weighted blanket draped over her body. And maybe she did doze off for a bit because when she opened her eyes she felt him moving off of her before he crashed down next to her, the springs in her mattress bouncing under him.

Pushing herself to lie on her side she ran a hand over his chest and he turned to look at her, a dopey smile on his flushed face, “So this is what happens at slumber parties, huh? I’ve really missed out all these years.”

She giggled and nodded into her pillow, “Yep. They’re just like big orgies really. Normally there are more than just two people. It’s how I lost my virginity.”

Harry sputtered a laugh, “Really?”

Y/n couldn’t help but to cackle loudly and roll to her back, the biggest grin on her face, “No, silly. I was teasing.”

He slid a hand over her tummy, “So this isn’t what happens at slumber parties, then?” She could hear the cheeky smile in his voice.

She turned her head to look at him, “Well, not usually. But I think we made our own rules for this one today.”

“Yeah? Well, I have to give it to you. You throw a hell of a party. I’m certain this is gonna go down as the best sleepover in history.”

. . .

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[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Request idea:

Your darling, adoring, wonderful boyfriend Jason sits you down And solemnly confesses that he is red hood. He’s been dreading this day for months. If you want to leave, he’ll understand and wait—-

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU KNEW THE WHOLE TIME?

Jason thinks he’s in an angst fic. The reader is in a rom com where her boyfriend has been a ridiculously obvious superhero, but she’ll let him tell her when he’s ready.

Maybe some shaningany flashbacks where you’ve helped to keep his identity secret (stalling so he can change, giving alibis) while he was oblivious.

- Batchilla

To Wait and To Love

Hi Batchilla! Hope you enjoy! ♡ ~1.5k words

Your boyfriend is a vigilante, Red Hood, to be exact. You know this. He's just not aware you know this.

It's obvious, really, and kind of cute the way he makes excuses to leave. Sure, before you put two and two together, it was starting to seem like he was just dragging you along. But it all made sense when you caught sight of the helmet poorly concealed under his bed.

It makes you wonder if he wants to get caught. Especially when he brings you flowers from the shop you just saw him save from Poison Ivy on TV. Or freezer-burnt cartons of ice cream from your favorite ice cream shop, which was buried under piles of snow courtesy of one Mr. Freeze only twenty minutes ago.

You offer him big smiles and kisses of thanks, and your heart melts a little at how relieved he looks, how baffled he is by your understanding. And you do understand. To tell someone you run around in spandex and leather every night is a big risk, especially for someone who used to run crime in Gotham.

You're no angel yourself, even if he does call you one, and it's endearing to watch him scramble for excuses. It's even more endearing that he tries so hard to make it up to you when he's late, when he has to leave early, when he comes back battered and bruised with flimsy half-thought out explanations.

You'll let him take all the time he needs to tell you, and it's almost funny how easily you've come to cover for him.

"Jason? Oh, he's changing his suit. Someone knocked into me and I spilled my drink all over his jacket. How embarrassing," You laugh out, answering the reporter's question over Jason's absence from the latest Wayne Gala. It's only half a lie, you might not have spilled your drink but he's definitely changing his suit. It's just not the suit anyone would expect.

Once whispers of a break-in at Gotham National Bank started circulating the Gala, it wasn't hard to miss the meaningful glances between your boyfriend and his family. Sometimes you wonder how no one's noticed it before.

You smile brightly at him once he comes back, smelling like gunpowder and leather, and you let him kiss your knuckles while he mumbles apologies over getting caught up with an old friend. You don't imagine Riddler is exactly an old friend, but you teasingly tell him how he owes you a dance for making you wait. He smiles back, his own grin even brighter than yours, as he leads you to the dance floor.

You're opening the door to your apartment, chatting lazily with your friend after a night out.

"Is your boyfriend here? I remember you saying you two were practically living together," they ask, eyes trailing around your living space.

You hum thoughtfully, "We pretty much are. I think he might be sleeping or out looking for the stray cat we saw the other day. It had a bad limp." It's not a hundred percent a lie either, there was a hurt stray. You just know that Catwomen already picked it up, after a text Jason sent to Bruce Wayne's current girlfriend, Miss. Selena Kyle. Which would have been more of a surprise if you didn't already know who Batman was.

But it definitely isn't the truth, because you did catch sight of a red helmet following you and your friend back from the club. (Gotham never felt safer, than when he was watching over you.)

Your friend coos and starts to respond, when a thump sounds from the fire escape. They jolt, "What was that?"

"The cat, probably," You say quickly, letting out a laugh, "it's, uh, pretty big. Has a limp. Hey, did I show you the flowers Jason got me?" You gesture towards the bouquet behind them, and you both focus on the pretty blossoms.

Within minutes, you hear your bedroom door open and close. "Hi, baby," Jason drawls, looping an arm around your waist to pull you to his side, "Sorry, I fell asleep, how was your night?"

You pretend not to notice the limp he's nursing, one you're certain he should be resting, and tilt your head up to kiss his jaw, "It was fun. Missed you."

"I missed you too," he echoes fondly, and the three of you fall into an easy conversation. You distract your friend when you all go to sit on the couch, and if you choose to avoid sitting on his left side, it's certainly not because Red Hood hurt his leg fighting Killer Croc earlier this week.

Jason has never said your name like that before. His eyebrows are knitted together. He's kneeling in front of you, his hands clasped over yours as you sit on the bed.

"I love you and I– I have something to tell you," he chokes out, strained, "please, just– just, hear me out."

It clicks. This is it. He's going to tell you.

You smile and nod, it'll be nice to finally air out this secret. And maybe he could help you work on your excuses? It'll be easier if you're working as a team. You reach out and brush his hair back, unfazed and delighted he's trusting you enough with this, "Of course, Jason. Anything you need to tell me."

Jason is going to throw up. He's finally gotten his act together enough that he's going to tell his partner he's Red Hood. His stomach is churning, it's agony, knowing he could lose them over this.

They're so good to him. So understanding and patient and kind. He has no idea how he got so lucky. And he loves them. It's scary sometimes, how much he loves them. He wants this to last so badly. So, he has to be honest. Has to tell them he isn't what the world says he is.

He's a vigilante. Was a crime lord. He hurts people to save people. He terrifies the trash that calls themselves human. He's not good for you, but he tries. He wants you to still love him.

He wants you to stay so much. Even if he's not good. He wants you. You deserve so much more than the excuses and lies he gives. Jason's wanted to tell you for weeks, but he chokes on his words every time. He's never been so afraid of doing something. Not when he was a kid on the streets. Not when he was Robin. Not as Red Hood.

You look so perfect, sitting at the edge of your bed and smiling at him. He almost flinches when he thinks this could be the last time you smile at him.

He's on his knees. He's prepared to beg. He would beg to keep you.

He says your name, he tells you he loves you. It might be the last time he gets to say that to you. The thought makes him even more nauseous. He tells you he has something to say.

You brush his hair back and keep smiling. He wants to sob. You don't know. You don't know what he is, what he's done.

"I'm Red Hood," he gasps out, voice ragged.

A beat. You're still smiling, you still look happy, and you're nodding at him.

He blinks at you, "I'm Red Hood," he repeats, "I know that- I know it's a lot. I understand if you never want to see me again, but, baby–"

You lean forward and kiss him. He's more than just a little dumbfounded. "Jason, I love you too. I'm not leaving you. I, um, kind of already knew you were Red Hood?" You say, a sheepish smile coming over your face.

"You– what?" Jason stumbles out. You're still here. Still touching him. You kissed him. You look relaxed. Happy.

"I saw your helmet under the bed. Everything clicked after that," You tell him gently.

"And you're okay with that? You're okay with me?" He asks, tone betraying his desperation.

Concern flashes in your eyes, "Of course I'm okay– I'm more than okay with that, Jason. I love you, tights or not."

He lets out a laugh, and his stomach swoops, the tension dissipating throughout his body, "Yeah?"

You grin at him, cupping his face, "Yeah, but you're going to have to show me how you swing around rooftops."

He gets off his knees to kiss you again, he doesn't think this moment could get any better, "Is that all?"

You giggle, at the pure elation in his eyes, and he grins widely at your joy. Then, the moment does get better, "Well, I'm kinda interested in the car Batman drives around you."

"I could make that happen," he murmurs, and seals the promise with another kiss, "You wanna see the batplane too?"

Your eyes light up, and Jason thinks he might be addicted to the mischievous glint that flickers in your gaze.

[chrissturnsfav]

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

chris sees you walking around in nothing but one of his black fresh love hoodies and black thong. he can't help but stare, thinking about all that he wants to do to you right now.

ᰔᩚ smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it b4 you tap it), use of y/n, use of pet names (mama, baby, ma), dom!chris, bf!chris, teasing, dumbification kink, backshots, LOTS of dirty talk

ᰔᩚ w.c. 1,621

ᰔᩚ inspiration from fresh lovin' w/ chris by @pearlzier

chris is sat on his bed, mindlessly scrolling through tiktok as he waits for you to come back downstairs. you had left a few minutes ago to grab a drink, but chris was wondering why the fuck it was taking you a few minutes to get a drink.

your boyfriend is snapped out of his thoughts when you open his bedroom door again, returning. his eyes widen at the sight of you, the clothes you'd been wearing earlier had been discarded. now you were in just one of his black fresh love hoodies and your black thong you already had on, you're holding just a bottle of water.

chris scoffs, sitting up in his bed and resting his hands on his knees, licking his lips, "the fuck did your clothes go?" he says, watching your every move as you climb back onto his bed next to him.

you smirk, shrugging as you twist off the cap on the water, "i dunno. i got kinda hot, i guess."

chris chuckles dryly, looking you up and down as he takes in your body. your bare thighs, the way the straps of your thong sat highly above your hips, the hoodie baggily laying on your body—obvious that you rolled up the bottom so your ass was out.

he shakes his head, clearing his throat before speaking again, "you know what you're doin', y/n."

you chuckle, confused, pretending like you didn't know what he was talking about—knowing damn well you did. "what are you saying, chris?" you say in a sassy tone, putting the water bottle to your lips and taking a few sips.

chris kisses his teeth, looking at you with lust in his eyes as he shifts his position slightly close to your body. "tryna play stupid now? is this what you're doin'?" he says in a low tone, suddenly running a hand up from your knee to your thigh.

you swallow the water, shuddering slightly at his touch before speaking, trying to hide the way he was making you feel, "i don't know what you're talking about," you say softly, staring into his eyes as his blue ones pooled with desire burned back into yours.

chris smirks, his gaze not leaving yours as he rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "yeah. you do," he insists. his hand that ran up your thigh trails to the waistband of your thong, tracing it along your hips and his smirk grows wider when you gasp. "barely even touched ya and you're already gettin' all worked up."

you shake your head, knowing he was right, but you wanted to remain calm and confident, "i'm not worked up," you lie, watching as chris' hand continues to trace the lace pattern on the waistband of your thong.

chris scoffs, looking at his actions, then back up at you before leaning close to your ear, "bet you're all wet down there. should i check?” he teases.

you swallow hard, shaking your head again, "i'm not, chris," you lie straight through your teeth, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second.

chris tilts his head, swiping his tongue across his lips as he looks at you intently. he chuckles dryly before his hand moves down to run his middle finger across your damp thong. he scoffs when he feels how wet you are, smirking as he hears you gasp at his actions. he leans close to your ear, whispering in it, "liar."

you shudder, gasping again when his hand moves inside your thong, running a finger through your sopping folds and he laughs dryly, watching your eyes flutter closed before he speaks in your ear again, "told ya. soaked."

you whine in response, gasping once again when his two fingers move to rub circles on your clit. your head falls back as chris watches you, his own crotch growing tight at the sight of you.

"p-please..." you whine with your eyes pinched shut, head against his pillows. he chuckles, his actions on your clit only getting faster, "what do ya want, then? tell me," he says, the smirk never leaving his face.

you open your eyes slightly, looking up at him, "i want...i want you to fuck me..." you let out through deep moans.

chris chuckles under his breath, licking his lips, "gotta ask nicely, baby. only good girls get what they want, right?" he growls.

you hum out a moan in response, nodding. "p...please, chris...please i need you now."

chris smirks, nodding his head as he takes his hand out of your thong, "atta girl," he purrs, flipping you over onto your stomach swiftly.

he pulls down his sweatpants just enough to let his now rock-hard length free. he pulls your panties down and off your ankles, throwing them across the bed. your head is pressed against the pillows, anticipating chris' actions as your body overflows with desire.

chris would normally be taking your hoodie off, but you were wearing his brand, and he wanted to fuck you in it. it only made sense. the thought of him fucking you in fresh love only turned him on more.

chris strokes himself a few times, humming quietly before pressing his tip against your core. you groan softly in response and he smirks at your sounds.

without warning, chris pushes into you fully. his lips part as a small moan leaves his mouth, earning a loud one from you.

chris picks up a quick and hard pace, watching as you moan loudly. profanities and his name fall from your mouth and grunts leave his own. he has one hand on your ass, grabbing it roughly and the other on the small of your back, pushing it down to force you to arch.

your eyes are rolling back into your head, brows knit together in pleasure and your lips parted as chris mercilessly pounds into you. "fuck...so fuckin' tight f'me, ma," chris groans and you moan softly in response.

chris' bottom lip was tucked between his teeth, his eyebrows pinched together and he reached a hand around you, pulling your head up by your neck as he leaned his body down so his face was inches apart from yours.

"y'like this shit?" he grunts into your ear, panting against your face. you couldn't respond, only able to focus on the pure ecstasy you're receiving.

chris chuckles out a groan at your expression, watching as you struggle to form words. "'s the matter, ma? 'm that fuckin' good, you can't even talk?"

you force yourself to nod, trying desperately to answer him as his hips only move faster into you. "m...m....y...yeah," you manage to let out in between heavy moans and deep pants.

chris scoffs, watching your face twist in overwhelming pleasure as you practically drool. "look at you. gettin' fucked dumb by my cock," he groans into your ear.

you feel yourself getting closer, knowing you're not going to be able to hold on for long if he asks you to. you whimper out a loud moan, chris' grip on your neck getting tighter. "c...c....chris....s...so close!"

chris chuckles dryly, moving his hand on your ass to your clit, rubbing fast circles on it as he continues to pump in and out of you, "mmm, yeah? already?"

you nod eagerly, moaning as your high gets closer and tears pool at the corners of your eyes at the immense amount of pleasure. "p...p...please...chris...i...can't....can't hold it...." you barely speak.

chris licks his lips, grinning a smirk. "nah, you wanna walk around in that thong wearin' my shit, bein' a tease?" he tuts, "nah, you're gonna hold it f'me."

you cry out a moan, giving everything you have to not cum right on his cock and feeling overstimulated as his thumb on your clit rubs faster. "c...chris! p-pleease...i...i can'ttt!"

chris groans, feeling himself getting close and watching as you struggle to hold back, "ya better not...hold up...almost there—fuck," he grunts.

at this point you're not able to hang on any longer. your eyes are rolled all the way back, mouth fallen open, brows pinched together as you ache for release, "chrisss...fuck! i...i gotta...c...cum! p...please!"

chris feels his orgasm seconds away as his thrusts get more and more sloppy. he moves his thumb on your clit off, placing his hand back on your ass. his grip on your neck becomes slightly tighter and he groans. "shiiit...cum for me, baby."

you waste no time in cumming all over his dick as you yelp out, face grimaced in pleasure. you open your eyes, vision blurred as chris continues to fuck you, helping you ride out your high.

"fuuck, you're gonna make me cum," chris grunts. he hardly thrusts one last time into you before pulling out, releasing his cum on your ass as his eyes roll back and his lips part.

chris breathlessly rolls over next to you, watching your body go limp as you lay on your stomach trying to catch your breath.

"fuck, chris..." you breathe out, closing your eyes in exhaustion as chris pulls his sweatpants and boxers back up.

chris chuckles dryly, looking at you with tired eyes, "wore ya out, huh?"

you nod, moving your body closer to him. he wraps his arms around your waist as you pull the covers over your bodies. you nuzzle your head against his chest, draping an arm lazily across his back.

"want me to get you anything, or you're good?" chris mumbles before resting his chin on top of your head.

you shake your head, eyes fluttering closed. "no...i'm okay...just take a nap with me."

chris chuckles, pulling your body closer to him and intertwining a leg with yours, "yes ma'am," he mumbles.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: yay first smut woohoo (sorry if it wasn't that good, i'm still learning LMAO)! kinda sappy and i don’t love the theme but guys pls lmk if you liked this and what else you would wanna see bc i love love love feedback and wanna give u guys what u want ofc! this also turned out sm longer than expected lol oops...

thank you for reading!! <3

@chrissturnsfav ™

[pucksandpower]

Black Widow

Toto Wolff x black widow!Reader

Summary: Lewis Hamilton and George Russell are convinced you’re trying to kill their team principal, and, to be fair, you do have a trail of seven dead extremely wealthy husbands behind you … but it’s not what they think, you promise

The soft beep of medical equipment provides a rhythmic backdrop as you sit beside the ornate mahogany bed, your manicured fingers intertwined with those of your latest husband, Reginald Worthington III.

At 89 years old, Reggie, as you affectionately call him, is by far your oldest conquest yet. His wrinkled face, now gaunt from months of illness, still manages a weak smile as he gazes at you.

“My darling,” Reggie wheezes, his voice barely above a whisper, “I hope you know how much joy you’ve brought to these final months of mine.”

You lean in, your silky hair cascading over your shoulder as you press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Oh, Reggie. The pleasure has been all mine.”

It’s not entirely a lie. While you don’t love Reggie — or any of your previous husbands, for that matter — you’ve grown fond of the old codger. He’s certainly been the most amusing of your elderly spouses.

Reggie’s eyes twinkle with mischief, a ghost of the rakish playboy he must have been in his youth. “Now, now, my dear. We both know this has been a mutually beneficial arrangement. But I do hope I’ve provided some entertainment along the way.”

You can’t help but chuckle. “You’ve been a delight, darling. Truly.”

As if on cue, Reggie is seized by a coughing fit. You quickly grab a glass of water from the bedside table, helping him take small sips until the spasms subside. When he catches his breath, he fixes you with a serious look.

“Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you. About the will.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your face carefully neutral. “Reggie, please. We don’t need to discuss such morbid topics.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. We both know why you’re here, and it’s not to admire the wallpaper. Now listen, because this is important.”

You lean in closer, curiosity piqued despite yourself.

Reggie’s voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “In addition to the usual — the houses, the cars, the offshore accounts — I’m leaving you my stake in the Mercedes Formula 1 team.”

Your eyes widen in genuine surprise. “The racing team? Reggie, I had no idea you were involved with-”

He cuts you off with a wheezy laugh. “Oh, my dear. There’s so much you don’t know about me. Did you think I made my fortune selling denture cream?”

You can’t help but smile. “Well, I did wonder about all those trophies in your study.”

“Remnants of a misspent youth,” Reggie says with a wistful sigh. “But this, this is my crowning achievement. A 33% stake in one of the most successful F1 teams in history.”

Your mind reels at the implications. This is far beyond anything you’d anticipated when you’d set your sights on Reginald Worthington III.

“Reggie, I ... I don’t know what to say.”

He pats your hand affectionately. “You don’t have to say anything, my dear. Just promise me you’ll make the most of it. I’ve always admired your ambition. It reminds me of myself at your age.”

You lean back in your chair, studying the old man before you. In that moment, you feel a surge of genuine affection for him.

“I promise, Reggie. I’ll make you proud.”

He nods, satisfied. “Good. Now, tell me about the others. I want to know how I measure up to my predecessors.”

You laugh, shaking your head in amazement. “Are you sure? It’s quite a list.”

Reggie’s eyes sparkle with interest. “My dear, I’m on my deathbed. Regale me with tales of your conquests.”

With a theatrical sigh, you begin. “Well, if you insist. Let’s see ... first, there was Harold.”

“Ah, the virgin husband,” Reggie interrupts with a knowing nod.

You raise an eyebrow. “And how did you know that?”

He winks. “I have my sources. Go on.”

“Right. Well, Harold was a sweet man. A bit naive, perhaps, but genuinely kind. He left me his tech startup. It wasn’t worth much at the time, but I sold it for a tidy sum a year later.”

Reggie nods approvingly. “Smart move. Who was next?”

“After Harold came George. He was ... intense. A retired army general with a penchant for war stories and expensive scotch. Left me his collection of rare military memorabilia.”

“Fascinating,” Reggie murmurs. “And the others?”

You tick them off on your fingers. “Let’s see ... there was Joaquin, the passionate Spanish chef. He left me his Michelin-starred restaurants. Then came Dmitri, the Russian oligarch. That was ... an experience.”

Reggie chuckles. “I bet it was. What did he leave you?”

“A series of shell companies and a rather gaudy yacht. I sold the yacht, kept the companies.” You pause, lost in thought for a moment. “After Dmitri was William, the British lord. Lovely man, terrible teeth. Left me his crumbling estate and title.”

“So you’re technically a lady now?” Reggie asks, amused.

You nod. “Lady Y/N, at your service. Though I don’t use the title much. It tends to raise questions.”

“Understandable. And the last one before me?”

Your expression softens slightly. “Ah, that was Hiroshi. Japanese tech mogul. Brilliant mind, but so lonely. I think I was the first real companionship he’d had in years.”

Reggie studies you carefully. “You were fond of him.”

You nod, a bit surprised by the lump in your throat. “I was. He ... he understood me, I think. More than the others.”

There’s a moment of silence as Reggie processes this information. Finally, he speaks. “And what did Hiroshi leave you?”

You smile wryly. “His AI research company. It’s been ... interesting, to say the least.”

Reggie nods slowly. “Quite a collection you’ve amassed, my dear. But tell me, what drives you? Surely it’s not just the money.”

You’re taken aback by the question. No one has ever asked you that before. You take a moment to gather your thoughts.

“I suppose ... it’s the challenge of it all. The thrill of reinventing myself with each new husband, of navigating these complex worlds they inhabit. And yes, the wealth is nice, but it’s more about what I can do with it.”

Reggie leans forward, intrigued. “And what is it you want to do?”

You pause, realizing you’ve never really articulated this to anyone before. “I want to make a difference. Real, lasting change. These men, they’ve all built empires in their own ways, but they’ve been limited by their own mortality. I don’t have those limitations yet. I can take what they’ve given me and create something ... more.”

Reggie’s eyes light up with understanding. “Ah, now I see why I was drawn to you. You’re not just a pretty face or a clever mind. You’re a visionary.”

You feel a flush of pride at his words. “I try to be. Each husband has taught me something new, given me tools I never had before. Harold showed me the potential of technology. George taught me strategy. Joaquin, the importance of passion in one’s work. Dmitri, how to navigate the murky waters of international business. William gave me a glimpse into old-world power structures. And Hiroshi ... well, he opened my eyes to the future.”

Reggie nods slowly. “And what have I taught you, I wonder?”

You smile softly. “Patience, Reggie. The long game. And the value of a good sense of humor in the face of adversity.”

He chuckles weakly. “Well, I’m glad I could contribute something to your education. Now, about this F1 team ...”

You lean in, eager to hear more. “Yes?”

“It’s more than just a racing team, you know. It’s a pinnacle of engineering, a testament to human ingenuity and the constant push for improvement. I think you’ll find it fits quite well with your ambitions.”

You nod slowly, mind already racing with possibilities. “I can see that. The technology, the global platform, the prestige ...”

Reggie grins. “Exactly. And who knows? Maybe you’ll find husband number eight in the paddock.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, Reggie. Always thinking ahead, aren’t you?”

He winks. “Someone has to. Now, promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” you say, and you’re surprised to find you mean it.

“When you’re accepting that championship trophy — because I know you will — wear something fabulous. Give those stuffy old men in the paddock something to talk about.”

You can’t help but grin. “Oh, don’t worry. I intend to shake things up a bit.”

Reggie nods approvingly. “That’s my girl. Now, I think I need to rest for a bit. But don’t go far. I want to hear all about your plans for world domination when I wake up.”

As you watch Reggie drift off to sleep, you can’t help but feel a mix of emotions. Sadness at the impending loss of this charming old rogue, excitement at the unexpected opportunity he’s given you, and a renewed sense of purpose.

You glance at your reflection in the ornate mirror across the room. Lady Y/N Y/L/N, soon-to-be racing magnate. It has a nice ring to it.

As you settle back into your chair, you begin to plan your next moves. The motorsport world won’t know what hit it.

***

The sleek boardroom of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas F1 Team headquarters buzzes with hushed conversation. Around the polished mahogany table, team executives and board members huddle in small groups, their voices low and urgent.

Toto catches snippets of conversation as he reviews his notes for the meeting.

“Did you hear? She’s actually coming today,” whispers Bradley, the team’s financial officer.

Sarah, head of marketing, leans in. “I can’t believe Reginald left her his stake. What was he thinking?”

“Probably wasn’t thinking with his head, if you know what I mean,” chuckles Thomas, the technical director.

Toto clears his throat, silencing the gossip. “Let’s keep things professional, shall we? We have important matters to discuss today.”

As if on cue, the boardroom door swings open. The room falls into an immediate, almost eerie silence as you stride in, turning heads with every click of your Manolo Blahnik heels against the polished floor.

Toto finds himself holding his breath, caught off guard by your presence. He’s seen photos, of course, but they didn’t do you justice. Your tailored Armani suit exudes power and confidence, while your eyes scan the room with a shrewd intelligence that sends a shiver down his spine.

You take your seat at the far end of the table, directly opposite Toto. “Good morning, everyone. I hope I’m not late.”

Your voice, smooth as silk with a hint of amusement, breaks the spell. The room erupts into a flurry of awkward greetings and nervous coughs.

Toto clears his throat again, trying to regain control of the situation. “Not at all. We were just about to begin. Welcome, Lady Worthington. We’re honored to have you join us today.”

You smile, a dazzling display that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Please, call me Y/N. We’re all colleagues here, after all.”

Toto nods, fighting to keep his composure. “Of course, Y/N. Shall we begin with the agenda?”

As the meeting progresses, Toto finds himself increasingly distracted. He’s used to being the most commanding presence in any room, but your arrival has shifted the dynamic entirely. Every time you speak, offering insights or asking pointed questions, the rest of the board seems to hold its breath.

“I’ve been reviewing our sustainability initiatives,” you say during a lull in the conversation. “While I applaud our efforts so far, I believe we could be doing more. Formula 1 has an unique platform to drive innovation in green technologies. We should be leading the charge, not just following along.”

Bradley shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “With all due respect, Lady- I mean, Y/N, implementing new sustainability measures could be quite costly. We need to consider the bottom line.”

You lean forward, fixing Bradley with an intense gaze. “And what about the cost of falling behind? Of being seen as out of touch with the concerns of younger fans? Sometimes, you have to spend money to make money.”

Toto finds himself nodding in agreement before he even realizes it. “Y/N raises an excellent point. Perhaps we should form a task force to explore more aggressive sustainability options.”

You flash him a grateful smile, and Toto feels his heart skip a beat. He quickly looks down at his notes, trying to regain his composure.

As the meeting continues, you consistently challenge the status quo, pushing for bolder strategies and innovative approaches. Toto watches in fascination as you deftly navigate the complex dynamics of the board, alternating between charm and steel as the situation demands.

During a discussion about driver development, you interject again. “I’ve been looking into our junior driver program, and I think we’re missing opportunities. We’re too focused on traditional racing backgrounds. What about sim racers? Or scouting karters from developing countries? We could be tapping into a whole new pool of talent.”

Sarah, the marketing head, perks up at this. “That’s ... actually a brilliant idea. It could really broaden our appeal, especially in emerging markets.”

You nod appreciatively. “Exactly. And imagine the stories we could tell. The sim racer who became an F1 champion or the kid from a small village who rose to the top of motorsport. That’s the kind of narrative that builds brand loyalty and inspires the next generation of fans.”

Toto finds himself leaning forward, completely engrossed. “I love this direction. Y/N, would you be willing to work with Sarah to develop a proposal for expanding our driver search?”

“Of course,” you reply with a smile that makes Toto’s pulse quicken. “I’d be delighted.”

As the meeting winds down, Toto realizes that the entire dynamic of the board has shifted. The initial wariness towards you has given way to a mixture of respect and curiosity. Even those who seemed most skeptical at the start are now hanging on your every word.

“Well,” Toto says, glancing at his watch, “I think that concludes our agenda for today. Unless anyone has any other matters to discuss?”

The room is silent for a moment before you speak up. “Actually, if I may, I’d like to address the elephant in the room.”

A tense hush falls over the gathering. Toto holds his breath, unsure of what’s coming next.

You stand, your posture relaxed but commanding. “I’m aware of the rumors and speculation surrounding my ... personal life. I want to assure all of you that my presence here is purely professional. I’m not here to cause drama or upheaval. I’m here because I believe in the potential of this team and this sport. I hope that over time, you’ll come to judge me based on my contributions, not on gossip or hearsay.”

The sincerity in your voice is palpable, and Toto can see the effect it has on the room. Shoulders relax, expressions soften. There’s a collective exhale, as if a weight has been lifted.

“Thank you for your honesty,” Toto says, standing as well. “I think I speak for everyone when I say we look forward to working with you and seeing what fresh perspectives you can bring to the team.”

There’s a murmur of agreement around the table. As the meeting officially adjourns, people begin to gather their things and file out of the room. Toto notices that several board members linger, clearly hoping to have a word with you. He feels an unexpected twinge of jealousy.

Before he can second-guess himself, Toto makes his way around the table to where you’re chatting with Sarah about the junior driver program idea.

“Excuse me,” he says, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. “Y/N, I was wondering if I could have a word?”

You turn to him with a smile that makes his heart race. “Of course. What can I do for you?”

He takes a deep breath, acutely aware of the curious glances from the remaining board members. “I was impressed by your insights today. I think there’s a lot we could discuss further about the future direction of the team. Would you perhaps be interested in continuing this conversation over dinner?”

A hush falls over the remaining occupants of the room. Toto can practically feel the weight of their stares, but he keeps his eyes fixed on you.

You raise an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and amusement playing across your features. “Dinner? My, my, Toto. Aren’t you afraid of me? I do have quite the reputation, you know.”

There’s a challenge in your voice, but also a hint of vulnerability that catches Toto off guard. He realizes that beneath your confident exterior, you’re testing him, gauging his true intentions.

Toto meets your gaze steadily, his voice low but firm. “I don’t put much stock in rumors. I prefer to form my own opinions based on what I see and experience. And what I’ve seen today is a brilliant, passionate individual who could be a tremendous asset to this team. That’s the person I’m interested in getting to know better.”

The room seems to hold its breath, waiting for your response. You study Toto for a long moment, your expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a genuine smile spreads across your face.

“Well, in that case, I’d be delighted to have dinner with you. Shall we say eight o’clock?”

Toto feels a rush of relief and excitement. “Eight o’clock sounds perfect. I know just the place.”

As you gather your things and prepare to leave, Toto can’t help but feel like he’s standing on the precipice of something monumental. He’s built his career on calculated risks, on seeing potential where others see danger. Looking at you, he knows that this might be the biggest gamble of his life.

But as you turn to give him one last smile before exiting the boardroom, Toto is certain of one thing: it’s a risk he’s more than willing to take.

***

The Monaco Grand Prix paddock buzzes with excitement, a hive of activity as teams prepare for the most glamorous race on the Formula 1 calendar. Lewis Hamilton and George Russell huddle in a quiet corner of the Mercedes garage, their voices low and urgent.

“I’m telling you, mate, something’s not right,” George insists, his eyes darting around to ensure they’re not overheard. “Have you seen the way Toto’s been acting lately? It’s like he’s under some kind of spell.”

Lewis nods grimly, his usual pre-race focus replaced by concern. “I know what you mean. Ever since she came into the picture, it’s like he’s a different person. Always distracted, making decisions that don’t quite add up.”

“Exactly!” George exclaims, then quickly lowers his voice again. “And have you noticed how she’s always around now? At every meeting, every strategy session. It’s like she’s trying to learn all our secrets.”

Lewis furrows his brow, deep in thought. “You don’t think ... I mean, surely she wouldn’t actually try to ...”

“Kill him?” George finishes, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know, mate. But look at her track record. Seven husbands, all dead within months of marrying her. And now she’s got her claws into Toto.”

As if summoned by their conversation, you appear at the entrance of the garage, Toto at your side. The team principal’s hand rests comfortably on the small of your back as he leads you through the bustling workspace.

Lewis and George fall silent, watching intently as you make your way towards them. Your designer sundress and oversized sunglasses scream understated elegance, but to the two drivers, you might as well be wearing a black widow’s web.

“Good morning,” Toto calls out cheerfully. “Ready for qualifying?”

Lewis forces a smile, his eyes never leaving you. “Morning, Toto. Yeah, we were just discussing strategy.”

You step forward, flashing a dazzling smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important. I’m still learning all the intricacies of race weekends.”

George clears his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “Not at all. We were just finishing up.”

Toto beams, looking from you to his drivers with pride. “Isn’t it wonderful having Y/N here? She’s already brought so many fresh ideas to the team. I don’t know how we managed without her.”

You laugh, a sound that sends chills down Lewis and George’s spines. “Oh, darling, you’re exaggerating. I’m sure these boys were doing just fine before I came along.”

As you speak, your hand reaches up to smooth Toto’s collar, a gesture that seems innocent enough but makes both drivers tense.

Lewis clears his throat. “Actually, Toto, could we have a quick word? About the, uh, tire strategy?”

Toto looks surprised but nods. “Of course. Y/N, would you mind giving us a moment?”

“Not at all,” you reply smoothly. “I’ll just go chat with the mechanics. I’m fascinated by all this technology.”

As you saunter away, Lewis and George exchange a meaningful glance. This is their chance.

“Toto,” Lewis begins, choosing his words carefully. “We’re a bit concerned. About you, actually.”

Toto’s brow furrows in confusion. “Concerned? What do you mean?”

George jumps in, his words tumbling out in a rush. “It’s just that ... well, things have been different since you started seeing her. And given her history ...”

“Her history?” Toto repeats, his voice taking on an edge. “What exactly are you implying?”

Lewis takes a deep breath. “Toto, we care about you. And we can’t help but notice that Y/N’s previous partners have all met with ... unfortunate ends.”

For a moment, Toto just stares at them, his expression unreadable. Then, to their surprise, he bursts out laughing.

“Oh, boys,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I appreciate your concern, truly. But I assure you, it’s misplaced. Y/N has been nothing but a positive influence on both me and the team.”

George persists, his voice urgent. “But Toto, you have to admit, the pattern is alarming. Seven husbands, all dead within months of marriage. And now she’s here, learning all about our team, our strategies ...”

Toto’s amusement fades, replaced by a stern look. “That’s enough. I understand you’re worried, but I won’t have you spreading baseless rumors. Y/N is here because she’s a part-owner of this team and because I invited her. End of discussion.”

As Toto walks away, Lewis and George share a look of dismay.

“He’s in too deep,” Lewis mutters. “We need to do something.”

George nods grimly. “We can’t let her hurt him. Or the team. We need a plan.”

Throughout the day, as qualifying unfolds, Lewis and George find themselves constantly distracted. Every time they catch a glimpse of you in the garage or on the pit wall, their imaginations run wild.

During a brief break between sessions, they overhear a snippet of conversation between you and one of the engineers.

“So, if something were to go wrong with the car during the race,” you’re saying, “what would be the most catastrophic point of failure?”

The engineer launches into a detailed explanation of various mechanical vulnerabilities, unaware of the horrified looks on the drivers’ faces.

“She’s gathering intel,” George whispers to Lewis. “Probably planning some sort of accident for Toto.”

Lewis nods, his jaw set with determination. “We need to warn him again. Make him see reason.”

But their attempts to get Toto alone prove futile. You seem to be constantly by his side, your hand on his arm, whispering in his ear. To an outsider, it might look like the actions of a loving girlfriend, but to Lewis and George, every gesture seems calculated and sinister.

As the day wears on, their paranoia grows. They start seeing threats everywhere. When you hand Toto a bottle of water, they’re convinced it’s poisoned. When you suggest he take a look at something in the back of the garage, they’re sure you’re luring him away to do him harm.

Finally, as the sun begins to set over the Monaco harbor, they decide they can’t wait any longer. They need to confront you directly.

They find you alone in the hospitality area, reviewing some papers. As they approach, you look up with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Lewis, George,” you greet them warmly. “Excellent qualifying today. You must be pleased.”

Lewis takes a deep breath, steeling himself. “Cut the act. We know what you’re up to.”

Your expression doesn’t change, but something flickers in your eyes. “I’m not sure I understand. What exactly am I up to?”

George steps forward, his voice low and intense. “We know about your husbands. All seven of them. And we’re not going to let you add Toto to that list.”

For a moment, you just stare at them, your face unreadable. Then, to their surprise, you burst out laughing.

“Oh,” you chuckle, shaking your head. “Is that what this is all about? You think I’m here to kill Toto?”

Lewis and George exchange confused glances, thrown off by your reaction.

You lean in, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let me tell you a little secret. Those men? They were all terminally ill when I married them. It was a business arrangement, pure and simple. They got to spend their last months with a young, beautiful wife, and I got their fortunes. No foul play involved.”

The drivers stare at you, speechless. You continue, your tone becoming more serious.

“As for Toto, well, that’s different. For the first time in my life, I’ve found someone I genuinely care for. Someone who sees me for who I am, not just what I can offer. I’m not here to hurt him or the team. I’m here because I want to be part of something meaningful.”

Lewis and George exchange uncertain glances, their convictions shaken.

“But ... all the questions about the car, the team strategies ...” George begins.

You roll your eyes, a hint of amusement in your voice. “I’m a part-owner of this team now, remember? Of course I’m trying to learn everything I can. How else can I contribute?”

As the truth of your words sinks in, Lewis and George begin to feel a creeping sense of embarrassment. They’ve let their imaginations and preconceptions run wild, seeing threats where there were none.

“I ... we ...” Lewis stammers, struggling to find the right words.

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “It’s alright. I understand. My reputation precedes me, and you were just looking out for Toto. I can respect that.”

George rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. “We may have gotten a bit carried away. I’m sorry.”

You smile, and this time it reaches your eyes. “Apology accepted. Now, what do you say we put this behind us and focus on winning tomorrow’s race?”

As if on cue, Toto appears, looking between the three of you with curiosity. “Everything alright here?”

You stand, moving to his side and slipping your arm through his. “Everything’s perfect, darling. In fact, I think Lewis and George were just about to share some ideas they had for the race strategy. Weren’t you, boys?”

Lewis and George nod, grateful for the out you’ve given them. As they launch into a discussion about tire management and overtaking opportunities, they can’t help but marvel at how wrong they’ve been.

Watching you interact with Toto, they see not a black widow spinning her web, but a woman genuinely in love, bringing out the best in their team principal. They realize that sometimes, people can surprise you. And sometimes, the most unexpected additions to a team can be the most valuable.

***

The soft glow of chandeliers bathes the exclusive Monégasque restaurant in warm light, casting elegant shadows across the faces of Monaco’s elite. Grigori Volkov, a grizzled veteran of the Russian underworld, sips his vodka, his weathered face a mask of careful neutrality as he surveys the room.

His eyes narrow as they land on a familiar figure across the crowded dining area. It can’t be, he thinks, leaning forward for a better look. But there’s no mistaking that face, those eyes that have haunted his dreams and nightmares for years.

You.

Grigori watches as you laugh, your hand resting lightly on the arm of a tall, distinguished-looking man. He recognizes him vaguely. But what catches Grigori off guard is the easy intimacy between you, the matching wedding bands glinting in the low light.

For a moment, Grigori considers slipping out unnoticed. But curiosity gets the better of him. He signals the waiter, ordering another round of drinks to be sent to your table.

As the waiter approaches with the drinks, Grigori sees your posture stiffen slightly, your eyes scanning the room until they lock onto his. He raises his glass in a small salute, a wry smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

You lean in, whispering something to Toto. The man looks surprised but nods, and together you make your way towards Grigori’s table.

“Grigori,” you greet him, your voice a mix of warmth and wariness. “It’s been a long time.”

Grigori stands, bowing slightly. “Indeed it has, my dear. You’re looking well. And who might this be?”

Toto extends his hand, his grip firm. “Toto Wolff. And you are?”

“An old friend of your wife’s,” Grigori replies smoothly, noting the flicker of surprise in Toto’s eyes at the word ’wife’. “Grigori Volkov. I knew Y/N back in her Russian days.”

You gesture to the empty chairs. “May we join you?”

Grigori nods, waving expansively. “Please, be my guests.”

As you settle in, Grigori can’t help but study Toto more closely. He’s younger than expected, vital and alert. Not at all what he’d imagined for your latest conquest.

“So, Toto,” Grigori begins, his accent thick with amusement, “how long have you and our dear Y/N been married?”

Toto smiles, his hand finding yours on the table. “Just over two years now. Best decision I ever made.”

Grigori’s eyebrows shoot up. “Two years? My, my. That’s quite impressive.”

You shoot him a warning look, but Toto just looks confused. “I’m not sure I follow. Why is that impressive?”

Grigori chuckles, taking a long sip of his vodka. “Oh, forgive me. I just meant that Y/N here has always been something of a ... how do you say ... free spirit? Never one to be tied down for long.”

You interject quickly, “People change, Grigori. I’ve found what I was looking for.”

Grigori nods, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Indeed they do. And what of your ... other interests? The ones you inherited from dear Dmitri?”

Toto’s brow furrows. “Dmitri? I’m afraid I don’t know much about Y/N’s ex-husbands.”

“Ex-husbands?” Grigori repeats, feigning surprise. “Oh, but Dmitri was special, wasn’t he? After all, not every day one inherits a slice of the Bratva.”

The color drains from Toto’s face as he turns to you. “The Bratva? As in, the Russian mob?”

You sigh, shooting Grigori a glare that could freeze vodka. “It’s complicated, darling. And very much in the past.”

Grigori leans back, thoroughly enjoying the drama unfolding before him. “Oh, come now, Y/N. Surely your husband deserves to know the truth? About your colorful past, your string of deceased husbands, your unexpected rise to power in certain ... shall we say, unofficial circles?”

Toto looks between you and Grigori, his expression a mix of confusion and growing concern. “Y/N, what is he talking about?”

You take a deep breath, squeezing Toto’s hand. “Toto, there are parts of my past I haven’t told you about. Not because I wanted to keep secrets, but because I wanted to leave that life behind.”

Grigori interjects, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “Oh, but my dear, can one ever truly leave such a life behind? Especially when one has risen to such ... prominent positions?”

Toto’s eyes narrow as he looks at Grigori. “And what exactly is your role in all this?”

Grigori smiles, all teeth and no warmth. “Let’s just say I’m an old associate of Dmitri’s. And by extension, of Y/N’s. Though I must admit, I’m surprised to see you still among the living, Mr. Wolff. Our dear Y/N has quite a reputation, you know.”

You slam your hand on the table, your voice low and dangerous. “Enough, Grigori. That’s not who I am anymore.”

Grigori holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Of course, of course. I meant no offense. I’m merely ... surprised. After all, your previous husbands weren’t quite so fortunate. Or so young and vigorous.”

Toto’s jaw clenches, his eyes darting between you and Grigori. “I think it’s time we left.”

As you stand to leave, Grigori calls out, “Oh, but we’ve only just begun to catch up. There’s so much your husband doesn’t know, Y/N. About the power you wield, the empire you inherited. Don’t you think he deserves to know the truth about the woman he married?”

You turn back, your eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something deeper, more dangerous. “The truth, Grigori, is that I left that life behind. I found something real, something worth living for. And if you or anyone else tries to drag me back into that world, you’ll regret it.”

Grigori leans forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Is that a threat, my dear?”

You smile, cold and sharp. “Consider it a friendly warning. From one old friend to another.”

As you and Toto walk away, Grigori can’t help but feel a shiver run down his spine. He’d forgotten, in the years since you’d left Russia, just how formidable you could be.

He watches as you and Toto have an intense, whispered conversation by the exit. To his surprise, instead of storming out, Toto nods, takes your hand, and leads you back to Grigori’s table.

“Mr. Volkov,” Toto says, his voice steady and controlled, “I think it’s time we had an honest conversation. About Y/N’s past, about your ... association, and about how we move forward from here.”

Grigori raises an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. “Well, well. It seems you’ve found yourself a man with a spine, Y/N. Very well, let’s talk.”

As the three of you settle back into your seats, Grigori can’t help but feel a grudging respect for Toto. Most men would have run for the hills by now, but here he is, ready to face the truth head-on.

“So,” Grigori begins, pouring fresh vodka for all of you, “where shall we start? With Dmitri? With the Bratva? Or perhaps with the mysterious deaths of Y/N’s previous husbands?”

Toto takes a sip of vodka, his eyes never leaving Grigori’s. “Let’s start with the truth. All of it.”

You sigh, your hand finding Toto’s under the table. “Alright. Dmitri was my fifth husband. He was a high-ranking member of the Bratva, and when he died, I inherited his position and his connections.”

Grigori nods approvingly. “She’s being modest. Y/N didn’t just inherit Dmitri’s position — she expanded it. Forged new alliances, eliminated rivals. She became a force to be reckoned with in our world.”

Toto looks at you, his expression unreadable. “And the other husbands?”

You meet his gaze steadily. “They were all older men, all terminally ill. It was a business arrangement. They got to spend their last months with a young wife, and I got their fortunes. No foul play, I swear.”

Grigori chuckles. “Oh, come now. There were rumors, whispers of poison, of accidents arranged just so ...”

You whirl on him, your eyes flashing. “Rumors started by people like you. People who couldn’t believe a woman could gain power without resorting to murder.”

Toto squeezes your hand, his voice gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

You turn back to him, your expression softening. “Because I wanted to leave it all behind. When I met you, I saw a chance at a real life, a real relationship. I didn’t want my past to taint that.”

Grigori watches this exchange with growing fascination. He’s never seen you like this — vulnerable, open, genuinely in love. It’s... unsettling.

“And now?” He asks, unable to keep the curiosity from his voice. “What becomes of your empire, Y/N? Your power? Your connections?”

You straighten, your voice firm. “I’ve been systematically dismantling it all. Using the resources to fund legitimate businesses, charitable foundations. I’m out. For good.”

Grigori leans back, genuinely surprised. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re really walking away from it all.”

Toto speaks up, his voice steady. “We’re building something new together. Something honest, something we can be proud of.”

Grigori studies them both for a long moment, then throws back the last of his vodka. “Well, I’ll be damned. You’ve actually done it. You’ve found a way out.”

You nod, a small smile playing at your lips. “I have. And I’d appreciate it if you’d spread the word. Y/N Wolff is retired. Permanently.”

Grigori stands, straightening his jacket. “Consider it done, my dear. But know this — there will always be those who remember who you were, what you were capable of. Be careful.”

As he turns to leave, Toto calls out, “Mr. Volkov?”

Grigori pauses, looking back. “Yes?”

Toto’s voice is calm, but there’s steel beneath the surface. “If anyone from Y/N’s past tries to cause trouble for us, they’ll have to deal with me. And I assure you, I can be just as formidable as my wife when necessary.”

Grigori studies Toto for a moment, then breaks into a broad grin. “I believe you, Mr. Wolff. I really do. Take care of her, won’t you? She’s one of a kind.”

As Grigori walks away, he can’t help but shake his head in amazement. You, the Black Widow of the Bratva, settled down and in love. Will wonders never cease?

He glances back one last time to see you and Toto deep in conversation, your hands intertwined on the table. There’s an openness to your expression that he’s never seen before, a vulnerability that speaks volumes.

For the first time in years, Grigori feels a twinge of envy. Not for your power or your wealth, but for the genuine connection you seem to have found. As he steps out into the cool Monaco night, he wonders if perhaps it’s time for him to consider a change of his own.

After all, if the infamous Y/N can find redemption and true love, maybe there’s hope for an old dog like him yet.

[xotaemintol]

Obsessive perverted Hyuck x reader//short/oneshot

WARNING: this contains obsessive behaviors, stealing, Somnophilia, unprotected sex, masturbation, oral sex, nipple play, and breeding. Please do not read if any of these thing trigger you, thank you so much. Minors DO NOT interact.

Sorry it’s short ☹︎ I low-key have writers block and its beating my asssss but I still wanna post, bc I missed all of October I'm using November to post anything spooky/dark so bare with me PLEASE! Also, I will be posting asks soon so if you've sent any then please look forward☺︎

wc: n/a

Hyuck being so overly touchy with you when he isn’t glued to his phone, sniffing you and asking if he can have your underwear. Its no wonder how you came to find out that he was obsessed with you.

Of course if you said yes, you knew what he would do with them and didn’t care. Just like you expected he takes them home and cums into them—using them as a rag from that point on. It didn’t take long for those to become completely ruined, immediately after he asked for another pair, but when you said no he just snuck into your room and stole a pair; the prettiest, softest pair he could find.

Even stealing one of your bras and a bottle of perfume so he can smell you when he jerks off. He becomes such a pervert that your perfume, underwear, and bras just aren’t enough. So he started taking pictures of you for him to jerk off to, asking if he can record when you give him head.

You knew he used them to jerk off. But you couldn’t imagine how far he was going, playing the videos while he humps the pillow he put your bra and underwear on, after spraying the room with your perfume. Staring at his wall that is decorated with the nudes you sent. Along with pictures that are more wholesome—like ones of you smiling, your outfit, date nights, and even pictures of you sleeping.

The wall became more of a shrine as time passed, he even tapped a loc of your hair—after collection a bunch of tiny strains; to the wall with underwear, napkins you’ve used to wipe away your lip gloss, and even pairs of your discarded lashes—now covered in his cum.

Eventually though, he had to move it to his unused guest room because you decide to go to his place for a change. And he hid it thinking that you haven’t noticed all of your missing things—of course you noticed. His secret obsession was never as secret as he thought, but poor, sick hyuck just can’t get caught being the sicko he truly is.

But he also can’t stop, which leads him to groping you as you lay beside him sleeping. Slipping his hand underneath your loose top and brushing his fingers over your harden nipple, trying his hardest to breath quietly as to not wake you up.

Eventually, he moves on to something more risky when you remain in your sleeping state and decides to push your shirt up so he can see your boobs. He quickly goes from just touching them to kissing them, sucking your nipples and only stopping when you begin to stir in your sleep.

His lack of self control might be the blame for the way he carefully slides your underwear off, practically moaning when he notices how wet you are. He can’t help but stop to sniff your underwear, wrapping them around his cock as he jerks off over your body.

He never imagined he’d do something so deprived and desperate, but he loves you so much and thinks you’re just too pretty.

It’s not until he sees you move again that he realizes what he’s doing. Feeling ashamed he starts to try putting your underwear back on him, but as he’s pushing them up your calf’s you stop him. Not revealing that you’d been awake the whole time, only asking him what he was doing.

In his humiliated state he tries to string together some sort of lie, anything to dig himself out of the hole he’s in—but he can’t, and he doesn’t have to. Instead of shaming him like he expected, you tell him to continue; making him eat you out while he desperately grinds against the bed.

He’s so in love with eating you out that he doesn’t even stop when you finish. Continuing to please your body to the point of overstimulation as he gets high on the sounds you make and the taste of you. Not even when you try pushing his head away or closing your legs does he think of pulling away, you have to pull him by his hair—yanking his head away in order to stop him.

By this point, he hadn’t cum himself. He was too busy eating you out to focus on his own release, but you couldn’t let it end there. Luckily for you though, you didn’t have to ask.

Before you could say anything he began begging to fuck you. Caressing your legs as he looked at you with hazy eyes, his face flushed and his cock throbbing—twitching and leaking between his legs. His longish curly hair, is messy and he’s sweating before you can even say yes. The second you do, he’s practically crying in pure joy and desperation.

Hyuck savors every second of entering you. Rubbing his cock against your folds, slapping it against your pussy and slowly rubbing it against your clit until he finally puts it in.

He breaks as soon as the tip goes in. A soft cry leaves his lips, his voice cracking as he whimpers out your name. He tries to start of slow but he’s so sensitive from anticipation alone that he just can’t wait anymore. Not even seconds after he’s inside of you and he’s already slamming into you, not as fast as he wanted—but hard enough to make his headboard hit the wall with every thrust.

Even then he’s still stuck admiring you, the way your breasts move and the way your eyes roll. He loves seeing how you grip the pillow under your head and the way you try your hardest not to be too loud. It turns him on so much. So much that he feels like he’ll melt.

The sounds of skin clashing, moans, and panting fill the air, a hint of your perfume and sweat tangling with his own. It makes him feel like he’s on cloud 9, like he’s dreaming. It doesn’t take long before he’s trying to warn you that he’s close. Proclaiming his love for you as he fucks you, calling you beautiful and slurring is words together as he possessively calls you his.

He knows he should pull out at that point, but the thought of you being his—baring his child, telling people that he’s your boyfriend, that he’s the one who got you pregnant. That thought is enough to make him risk it and keep going. He’s always wanted to be a father anyways—why not make the woman he finds the most beautiful the mother of his first born?

In his mind-numbed state he doubles over, kissing you as he cums inside of you. Against your lips he mumbles soft ‘I love you’s over and over again unto he’s finally finished.

After this is when you finally find the shrine, to your surprise; it’s much smaller and a lot more wholesome than you thought as after that night, he removed your underwear from it. But it was only because he made a separate on that he keeps in his basement.

[thevoidstaredback]

"If I turn around and there's a hero, vigilante, anti hero, villain, anything or anyone related in anyway to the Justice League, I'm going to fucking lose."

It was quiet for a second, then, "Don't turn around?"

Red fucking Robin. "What did I just say?" Phantom turned on his heel to face the young vigilante.

The kid threw his hands up, "I told you not to turn around!"

"And yet here we are," he crossed his arms. "The hell do you want?"

"You seem awfully snippy today."

"Seeing as you and everyone under the sun has been stalking me, trying to get answers to questions I'm not going to answer, I think you can excuse my attitude."

With a huff, Red Robin also crossed his arms. "How do you know what I'm going to ask if no one else has been able to talk to you?"

"Because living beings are all the same. Curiosity of the unknown drags you around by your ear." Phantom turned back to continue walking away, "Now go away."

The kid matched his pace. "No way,"

His eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. "I have a meeting soon, kid. You can't come along." That was a total lie. He had nothing going on that demanded his attention now that Constantine had ditched him after getting the demon under control. Maybe he could drop by Fawcett and visit Billy?

"No you don't." This damn kid-! "You've been wandering aimlessly for the past hour."

Phantom turned again to face the vigilante. "First of all, stalking people is hella creepy. Second of all, my schedule is none of your damn business."

"Careful there, kid," Red Robin smirked, "You'll get scolded for having a potty mouth."

"I'm thirty-fucking-eight!"

"You're literally fourteen."

Phantom closed his eyes. "Nocturn give me patience," he then looked Red Robin directly in the eye, "We've had this conversation. I'm dead. I don't physically age. That doesn't change the fact that I have walked this planted for thirty-eight years. Is that simple enough for you to understand or do I need to dumb it down for you?"

Red Robin blinked, his mouth agape. What? Did he just- The nerve! The audacity! "I'll have you know," he huffed, "I'm smarter than Batman."

"He tell you that himself?"

"Yes." It was one of the only times Batman had ever praised him, so that interaction was held particularly close.

Phantom looked Red Robin up and down, his expression reading both 'are-you-serious' and 'what-do-want?-a-medal?' Without a word, he turned back to his path and began his march anew. Any attempts at conversation from Red Robin was ignored, much to the younger's chagrin. Maybe he'd go away if he ignored him long enough.

Phantom and Red Robin wandered for the better part of an hour, not so much as a word passing between them. Neither stopped for any reason, and neither broke the set pace. It could almost be considered a friendly stroll through the city, if one ignored the slight apprehension surrounding the two.

Red Robin took this time to observe Phantom. He'd never spent too much time around anyone from the JLD who wasn't Raven, so he took the opportunity to get to know another on the team.

Phantom insisted that he was thirty-eight, not fourteen, and that the reason he looks as young as he does is because he looks like he did when he died. Not a comforting thought in the slightest. He knew that, though, when B had briefed him on all the members of or associated with the Justice League.

His powerset was almost completely unknown. They'd all seen him use a flight/levitation ability, as well as some form of density shifting and a healing factor, but Red Robin was more than sre that Phantom had more up his sleeve than that. He worked as a part of the JLD team, so he had to have some magical understanding or capabilities. But Raven wouldn't tell him if she knew, no matter how much he pestered her.

Looking at the kid now, Red Robin seriously wondered if Phantom had a civilian disguise. Ether white hair, toxic green eyes, the glow he seems to give off, and the contrasting bright white and vantablack suit and gloves he wore could not be easy to hide.

There was also a slight sense of unease Red Robin felt when looking at or being around Phantom for a long time. He hadn't noticed it before, but now it was as obvious as a neon sign. It was a strange mix of Uncanny Valley and sinking horror. Why was he feeling like this?

Phantom stopped in his tracks in a dead end alley. Without turning around he said, "Alright, spit it out. What do you want to ask?"

Red Robin hesitated for a moment. Surely it couldn't be that easy? Was Phantom really going to answer his questions? He shook his head to snap himself out of it.

"Come on, kid," Phantom pulled a piece of chalk from his front pocket. "I don't have all day."

Red Robin wanted to scoff because he most certainly did have all day. But, he pushed it aside. He was about to get answers that not even the Justice League could get! He decided to start of easy. "When did you die?"

"Try again." was the growled response.

"What?"

"I said 'Try again'."

Okay, okay. Touchy. "Why'd you join the Justice League?"

"I was bored." It was clipped. Phantom's on edge. Why?

"What're the rest of your powers? I know you have more than what you've shown everyone."

Phantom walked to the wall and started to draw a door on it with the chalk. "Next question."

Red Robin rolled his eyes. "Fine. How did you die?"

Every movement from Phantom froze. Every minute, involuntary twitch, even the telling signs of breathing. For a long minute, nothing happened and Red Robin had the dawning sense that he'd just asked something he really shouldn't have.

Phantom drew a circle in the rectangle he'd drawn on the wall, completing the door. "I'm going to give you a piece of advice that you seem to have completely glossed over." The piece of chalk was hidden away as he gripped the now 3D door handle. "If you value your life, don't ask the dead how they died." He opened the door and stepped through before looking back at the red clad vigilante. "They won't be so nice about it." Then, the door closed and the chalk erased itself.

Part 6 Part 8

Tag List:

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[introloves]

can we puh LEASE get a drabble or a one shot on that gojo undercut thing u posted im beggin on my hands AND knees 🙏🙏

you knew he wanted something from you. you could feel it in the way he folded his frame down against yours. borderline suffocating, a malformed pout stretched across his face while humming against your neck.

“what is it.” you wondered, tapping away on your laptop without so much as paying him any attention- wounding him further.

he scoffed, wondering how you could be so cruel considering the fact he was dying. his eyes painted against the sheen of gloss painted over your newly done nails.

pink.

they were pretty and pink, and oddly resembling a part of him you just loved sucking on. his ego absolutely through the roof with that fact. you hadn’t put up your usual fight when he suggested the color brushed over that acrylic.

“nothing.”

a lie.

he himself knew what he wanted, but he never gave it up easy. choosing instead to wander away from the back of the couch you were so prettily purchased on. walking to stand directly in-front of you- the laptop screen doing nothing to block the majority of his body. tight shirt tucked into sweats that were hung a little too low for your tastes to be casual.

eyebrow raising and huffing with the hint served on a silver platter before you. smiling knowingly while closing the device and setting it aside.

opening yourself up to receive the heavy weight of his body, an exclaimed huff of air leaving you when his arms braced your body. engulfing them with ease- face planting first into your chest and groaning like he’d just found nirvana.

lifting his face to really show up that pout. letting those arms wrapped around you leave the circumference of you to grab at your wrists and plant them firmly against the shortened hair laying against the lower part of his head.

giggling when you finally got the unspoken hint. taking those newly manicured nails and raking them through the translucent hair.

“nothing, huh?” you teased, finding it easy to follow along to his whims. it was him who had paid a pretty penny for your current set after all.

answered with only a groan- eyes shut tight while you traced your initials into the hair there.

a vein prominent along the curve of his jaw with the force of his clenching teeth, something inside of him purring with the fact that you were so well taken care of.

taken care of on his money, with the color of his cock head painted on your nails.

shamelessly moving his face to nestle further against you, hands grabbing at you with an intensity not in proportion to your actions. wondering why the singular act of you running the tips of your styled nails across the short hair of his undercut had him reacting like this.

“satoru?” you inquired when his breathing nearly heaved while he let the full weight of him lay against you. answered with another near incoherent hum.

“is this okay?” words giggled sounded just a little teasing- but you truly wondered if this was fine. you’d never seen his body react in this fashion- not unless he was buried deep inside of you.

and with that realization, it seemed like a veil had been pulled from your eyes. looking over the curve of his back, over the defined planes, and watching the shifting of his hips against the couch cushions.

glossy lips pulled into something that resembled a smile before bringing your nails back and running them over the surface with just a little more pressure. making sure to watch for any shift in his demeanor.

barking out a bell of a giggle when his body tensed, coils of muscle wound tight and with an intensity that would have scared anyone that wasn’t you.

“feels good?” you wondered, and he could only nod. looking up and marveling at the pretty face smiling down at him. choosing to stretch himself back up to his full height. looming over you with that same intensity highlighted seconds previous.

“yeah, that feels good baby.” satoru huffed, letting you see for yourself when those horrible, teasing, wonderful sweats detailed the throbbing outline of his cock.

“do you wanna feel good?” he wondered, not letting you answer before tugging down the front of his waistband. finding it funny how close in color the pink tip of his matched your fingernails.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

In The Minotaur's Maze

Male Minotaur Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Violently painful noncon, mild bleeding from sex, size difference, belly bulge from massively huge dick, mild mention of musk, stalking, kidnapping, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 980 (Tried to make a drabble, failed again with a mini-fic instead. Oops. This is one of my very few works, so far, that is technically fanfiction as Asterion is the canon name of the Minotaur in Greek mythology.)

You were a talented explorer seeking ancient relics for fame and fortune.

You used a combination of minor magic to speak to the dead and serious investigation to discern the location of the fabled Minotaur labyrinth.

It was deep within an enchanted cave system that in many ways served as an extension of the maze hidden away within.

You carefully navigated the treacherous caves until you came upon the secret entrance. You placed your hand in the middle of a smooth wall and uttered the magic incantation.

The wall dissolved in a flash of light, and you stepped through the entrance as the stone reformed behind you. This was it. You were in the maze proper. What secrets lie ahead?

Of course, you knew the legends of Asterion the Minotaur, but he had been slain in them. And nothing could live so long anyway, especially without food.

You navigated the stone corridors easily. Despite their age, they still looked brand new. As you continued on, you occasionally heard what sounded like hooves plodding along behind you.

You pushed it from your mind. Your imagination was playing tricks.

As you stepped around a corner, you came to a wooden door and opened it. When you stepped through, gone were the twisting stone paths filled with the scent of earth.

Instead, there was an ancient style dwelling overlooking some farmland growing a variety of trees, bushes, and vines.

The door you had come through was still behind you, you closed it and from this side it looked like a door to a shed. So the labyrinth had pocket dimensions… You had heard about them in passing. You wondered how large it was. The realm may look like an idyllic farm on earth, but if you went far enough away, you'd surely hit an invisible wall.

Perhaps the door to the house would lead further into the dungeon.

As you got closer, you realized how large it was. When you pushed the big door open, it actually was a house. Albeit with furniture that was made for someone very large.

Suddenly, you felt a hot breath at your neck. You turned to find the very large, naked Minotaur staring down at you. He was a hairy wall of muscle. One with the head of a bull, complete with metal tipped horns. His legs were covered in dark fur and ended in large hooves, and his full nutsack dangled beneath a frighteningly large prick.

Before you could react, the Minotaur grabbed you and pulled off all your clothing.

You had no idea how Asterion could have survived all this time. He had been killed!

But apparently, he hadn't gotten the memo.

In the past, he had consumed most humans that wandered into his labyrinthine prison, but you were bravely entering his home, his nest.

You weren't cowering like the old sacrifices. Well, you weren't before he grabbed you anyway.

That, combined with him being in rut and driven insane by thousands of years of isolation, made him not consider you as a meal for even a moment. You were firmly in the mate category in his brain.

So small and cute.

You writhed and fought to get out of his grasp but he ignored your greatest efforts as if they were nothing.

Asterion licked at your face as you pleaded with him to let you go.

He couldn't understand your language but he could guess at their meaning.

But he had no intention of ever letting this new mate of his go.

He tossed you down on the bed and you now saw what he intended to do.

His hard cock now at full arousal, as large and thick as a man's arm.

"No no no! Pleasepleasenono!!!" Your words blended together in a garbled panic as his musk hit your nose, sharp and dominating.

The only preparation your entrance received was a few gobs of slimy Minotaur saliva before he slammed inside you.

You shrieked.

It felt as though your entrance was on fire. As if it was being ripped apart.

With every thrust you shuddered in pain and sobbed. Nearly incoherent cries for mercy dribbled from your lips and fell on deaf ears.

You felt so warm and tight around him. This was just what he needed. Surely you had been sent to Asterion in his time of need by the gods. They finally, after eons, granted him mercy in the form of your insides.

So pliant to his girthy cock. Every time he dove back into you the outline could be seen in your stomach.

Tears streamed down your face as you silently wept, no longer able to scream or even babble your silly little pleas for it to stop.

Asterion wished he could tell you how well you were doing. That you were such a good cow for him. That you fit his cock so perfectly.

But he couldn't, so instead settled for licking and nibbling at your neck before wiping your tears away with his broad tongue.

With a final thrust he filled your belly visibly cum.

When he pulled out a torrent of his seed rushed down your thighs, it had noticeable streaks of pink from bleeding. You were such a fragile little thing compared to him.

He hadn't been able to hold back since that was the first time he had ever sought release inside of someone before, but he made note to be more careful.

Even though the breeding had stopped you were helpless. Broken. At least for the moment. You still cried silently, feeling utterly invaded and defiled.

Asterion took the time to lick you completely clean before laying down beside you and holding you close, spooning you with his mighty arm as you shook beneath it.

You came here to explore the deepest reaches of the maze... but had your deepest reaches explored instead...

[bwabys-scenarios]

Sweet Sunday NSFW

Obanai x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: this is an AO3 request :3 gonna try to prioritize requests sent on AO3 since I plan on being more active there. This is short but sweet :) also I don’t know Obanai too well(it’s been forever since I read the manga) so sorry if he’s a little out of character… or if this just sucks. LMAO

warnings: pussy eating, very soft and sweet sex, Obanai worships your body, breeding, mostly nsfw, fluffy

You never did quite like waking up early in the morning, and thankfully your boyfriend didn’t either. Even when he was supposed to be off fighting demons, Obanai hated getting up before 10 am.

So that’s why on his day off, the two of you stayed curled up together the entire morning, sharing kisses and soft words of love. It had taken him so long to open up to you, and now that he had, it was almost like he was making up for lost time.

“You’re just radiant…” he purred, brushing back your hair from your sleepy face. “My love, my angel… my everything.”

It was enough to get your cheeks feeling hot to the touch, your heart beating out of your chest. “And you’re so handsome it makes me nervous…”

Although Obanai still struggled to accept compliments, he knew you would never lie to him. His own pale cheeks flushed pink as he looked away. The bandages that usually covered his mouth lay on the nightstand by your shared bed.

You traced the scars on the corners of his mouth, your eyes full of love and adoration. He could have never thought that anyone would look at his mmm in such a way, especially without his bandages to cover up his biggest insecurity.

“You’re too kind, my love. Sometimes I wonder if this is all a dream, that I’ll wake up back in my childhood home.”

You paused, your heart twisting in pain. Obanai often suffered from nightmares, waking up screaming and clutching onto you for dear life. It left him trembling, tears pouring down his cheeks as he struggled to soothe himself.

But how he didn’t have to face it alone, he had you.

“You’re safe now, Obanai. You never have to hide away when you’re with me…”

His eyes softened, and he couldn’t help but pull you close. You smelled so sweet, like sunshine and vanilla, with hints of something sweet he couldn’t quite place. Whenever he inhaled your scent, he knew that he was right where he needed to be.

Home.

It didn’t help that your scent also stimulated other feelings… other desires… before he knew it his hands hand wondered along your hips and to your thighs, lightly pushing them open. “O-Obanai…”

You whined softly as his nimble fingers danced across your closed cunt, stopping right above your clit. He pressed down, causing you to squirm lightly as he began rubbing gentle circles into it. “Shh, princess. Let me make you feel good.”

If Obanai was anything, he was devoted to you body and soul. Every little sound and movement you made was enough to get his pants tight and his body ready to please you.

He slid off your soaked panties, giving your pussy a soft kiss. “Gorgeous, taste so sweet, princess…”

Eating you out was one of his favorite activities, and he enjoyed pinching your pretty nipples as he did. Obanai loved to overstimulate you until you were pushing his head away, begging for his cock instead.

But this morning, he decided to let you off with only three orgasms with his tongue. “Okay, okay…”

He lined up his hips with yours, peppering your neck in kisses. “Do you want me?”

“Y-yes please!”

No hesitation, just pure desire for him. It felt good to be wanted, to be so desperately desired by you.

And so Obanai complied, snapping his hips forward to plunge his cock into you, groaning at the feeling if your tight cunt. Despite him not being huge, you always needed a moment to adjust, and he was more than fine with your pretty pussy cockwarming him as you got used to his cock.

“There you go…” he said, moving his hips at a slow and steady pace as your arousal pooled on the bedsheets below. “That’s my girl… that’s my love.”

His fingertips dig into your plump hips as he fucked info you, his warm breath tickling your neck. Obanai wasn’t really the type to moan, but he started getting talkative when he was close.

“S-so good, my love. So fucking good for me…”

The two of you came together, and he didn’t bother to pull out. He planned on marrying you after all, and getting you pregnant was the goal. “G-gonna… gonna knock you up, okay? My love, my beautiful wife, so pretty for me…”

The two of you laid together, your naked bodies glistening with a sheen of sweat of you snuggled. Soon, you’d have to leave the comfort of your bed to bathe and eat something to replenish your strength…

But for now, you’d need to comfort your lover. He always got a bit shy after sex, embarrassed of the things he said while pussy drunk. You didn’t mind though… you wanted to be his wife after all.

[alchemistc]

"When was it for you?" Buck asks, chin tucked over the nice rounded edge of Tommy's left pec, turning his eyes up through his lashes because every time he does that Tommy's eyes do something soft and sweet that Bucks still a little obsessed with. Tommy's fingers continue twisting into his curls, but he raises the 'need more context' brow. Buck obliges. "The - the spark. Like - I mean you had to kiss me for me to get what was going on but uh - I mean subconsciously I was in it to win it from like, the moment I saw how smiley you got seeing Cap and Athena reuniting. So. I'm wondering. What was it for you?"

There's still times when Buck feels like he's going too fast, too hard, pressing and pushing and reverting back to the neediness of yesteryear, but Tommy does this thing - this insane thing that shouldn't comfort Buck at all but somehow manages to both bring him back down to earth and make him feel like he's not alone in this: he takes his time. A measured breath, a quiet look, pressure on his scalp as Tommy thinks the question through without looking like he's being rushed at all. Measured. Processing both the new information he's been given, the little snapshot into what had first drawn Buck in, and the question he's been asked. If Buck had realized thoughtfulness meant so fucking much to him he'd have learned some patience years ago.

Tommy tips his chin, scratches at his cheekbone, stares at Buck like he's measuring out each word in his sentence recipe and setting up the ingredients of his response before he starts mixing.

"The handshake," he says, with a bashful little purse of his lips, like he hadn't expected he'd ever have to admit to it but he doesn't want to lie. "Just couldn't get a read on you for a while after."

Buck sort of wants to hide his face in Tommy's chest in response to the feelings that bubble up in his chest - the right-awayness of it, an immediate connection Tommy had felt even before he did, it feels like there are a thousand little pipe bombs bursting in his chest. No one's ever given him butterflies quite like Tommy Kinard.

"So it was like a physical thing for you," Buck says, fully fishing because Tommy has dated actual models and no matter how many minutes he spends each time they're naked together admiring the belly Buck's unwilling to dehydrate himself to get rid of, he likes hearing that his boyfriend thinks he's hot.

Tommy surprises him, though. "No, actually. You could barely get your name out but you wouldn't let go of my hand while you gave me five facts about helicopters you'd clearly googled on the ride over. Sorta made me want to stick you in my pocket and keep you there so you could provide me a fact-of-the-hour for the rest of my life."

Buck can feel his face going red. It's a mortifying observation, but it feels a lot like all the affectionate teasing he gets on the daily from Hen and Chim. Feels like Tommy knows him well enough by now to know he likes being read for filth when it means he's being paid attention to.

"You want weird facts, I'll give you weird facts."

Tommy chuckles. The hand in his hair tugs, just a bit, like Tommy wants Buck's face closer to his face but doesn't feel like asking. Buck shifts his weight up into an elbow to oblige, gets a thumb sliding along his cheekbone for his efforts and a primetime view of Tommy's serious face as his eyes flit across Buck's. "I didn't expect you," he says, in the serious voice, the teasing edge falling away. "I didn't expect butterflies and second chances and -." He cuts himself off, thumb slipping towards the curve of Buck's nose. "I didn't expect any of it."

Which is a bit of a revelation, if Buck's being completely honest. Tommy'd taken his hand and smiled while Buck did his level best to break the sound barrier with the pace he set at the beginning of all of this. "You thought I'd be an easy lay?" he teases, and Tommy wrinkles his nose.

"Thought you'd be bored with me before I paid the check if I ever managed to get you on a date with me."

It's actually laughable, with the benefit of hindsight, how terribly wrong that assumption had been. Laughable that Tommy thinks he could ever be boring. Buck could spend hours just staring at the subtle changes in his expression in complete silence and still not be bored with Tommy.

"That's stupid," he tells him, and Tommy thumbs at his bottom lip.

"Well I know that now. You're easily entertained. I've told you the Yellowstone flyover story six times and you still laugh at the punchline every time like it's the first time you've ever heard it."

"Moon moon," Buck repeats solemnly, and has to bite his lip not to laugh about it again.

"I like you a lot," Tommy says, and - they've exchanged I love yous, but there's something about this particular phrase - like Tommy's dug into the very heart of all of Buck's insecurities and learned the exact phrase to burn all those question marks to the ground.

"Ditto," Buck says, because Tommy had been insistent on trying to find a romcom that Buck didn't fall asleep to and Ghost had actually kept his attention decently well. Or. You know. Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore had.

Tommy rolls his eyes. "Howie keeps giving me shit for all new movie quotes you keep bringing out at inappropriate times."

"Quoting Clerks at Captain Fuckstache is always appropriate."

"We'll watch Dogma next. See if you can find any gems in that one that'll drive that asshole into an early grave."

"Are there dogs in it?"

"Are there -." Tommy's expression is so offended Buck thinks his eyes might explode. "Evan, even if you don't know the movie I know dogma is one of those SAT words you've found yourself on a Wikipedia black hole about."

Damn. And Buck had been hoping he'd get worked up enough to rant about Buck's serious gaps in knowledge in regards to pop culture. He hams it up a bit anyway. "It's when all the dogs are trying to get into heaven."

Tommy digs three fingers into Bucks side, and if they dissolve into a tickle fight five seconds later, Tommy has no one but himself to blame for the elbow to the face that nearly breaks his nose.

[edenesth]

[9:15 PM]

"Oh my god, that guy is totally your type!" a girl squealed, nudging her friend to look at the gorgeous man across the street.

Her friend giggled, shushing her, "You're right, but stop being so obvious! He's gonna think we're weird!"

"I doubt it. If anything, I think he's already got his eyes on you," she replied, nodding towards him. And she was right—he was looking in her friend's direction, a charming smile on his face as he bit his lip shyly. "Will you go talk to him?"

"I-I mean, I don't know..."

Oh god, I don't need this right now.

You rolled your eyes, eavesdropping on the conversation in front of you. Typical young girls. The light had turned green, and they were still busy debating whether to approach the tall, handsome guy across the street. "Excuse me. Last I checked, your father doesn't own the road. If you're not planning to move, please step aside. Some of us have places to be," you grumbled, pushing past them.

One of them scoffed, annoyed. "Ugh, whatever! Keep that attitude, and no man will ever want you, lady!"

You snorted, nodding sarcastically. "Yes, thank you. I definitely need advice from delusional little girls like you."

"Wha—delusional?! Who do you think you're calling delusional…" Her words trailed off as she watched you walk straight into the welcoming arms of the dreamy guy they had been ogling moments ago. The realisation hit, and embarrassment washed over them. That man had been looking at you all along, not at either of them.

Your boyfriend chuckled, holding you close and kissing your head. "Oh my love, you're so cute when you're annoyed. Did you really have to call them out like that, hm? They would've realised I was yours by the time you got here anyway."

You huffed. "I'd like to see you be so graceful if you heard two guys talking about me the way they just did about you."

He grinned, squeezing you tighter. "Oh baby, you know damn well that I can handle it."

Pulling away slightly, you glared up at him, irritated because he was right and you knew it. This annoyingly perfect man. "I do, and I hate that you're right." He laughed, leaning in to capture your lips in a loving kiss. "Oh come on, you know you love it."

"I do love it... love you, Yuyu."

He softened. "I love you too, baby."

Biting your lip, you cupped his face. "Tell me, my wonderful amazing boyfriend... are those two still watching?"

"Oh my god," he rolled his eyes. "Were you just trying to show off and make them jealous? They left as soon as they realised what was happening."

You groaned, pushing him away and starting your walk back to your shared home. "Ugh, you're telling me we did all that and no one even enjoyed the show?"

He gasped. "A show?! Come here, you—"

Little did you know, that was a lie. The girls were still watching enviously as he chased after you, your shrieks echoing across the quiet streets on a Wednesday night as he tickled your face with endless kisses as playful punishment.

Damn, I guess we were quite delusional...

ATEEZ Masterlist

Look what you did to me, @itstheghostofmypast, I haven't been able to stop thinking about Yuyu lately and it's all your fault🙈💕besides that, man's been looking mighty fine lately, it's hella annoying.

Hope y'all enjoyed this random little timestamp HAHA and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

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