#it was really fucking eerie and intense

[moon7jay]

i would KILL for a hearing non-con but like in public, at a restaurant or something so public kink x somnophilia kink (?) pretty please

Don't let them hear you (p.sh)

Warnings : non consensual, stalking, public sex, chikan, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dub con(?), just pure filth

THIS WORK CONTAINS NON CONSENSUAL THEMES SUCH AS RAPE

if u still proceed to read I take 0 responsibility

"He's still looking" You whispered in to your phone, trying not to make it obvious to the man sitting 3 tables across from you that you had caught him staring at you like a creep.

"Babes maybe he just finds you attractive" your best friend answered and that option would have been viable if it wasn't for the eerie feeling you got from the said man.

"No you don't understand syd, I'm pretty sure I saw him earlier in the cafe today"

"at your part time?"

"Yes! and I've seen him there a couple more times before and he's always maintaining this weird eye contact with me it's so creepy" You said urgently, trying not to raise your voice more than an octave while simultaneously trying not to look in his direction. He was still staring at you, you could feel his dark eyes on your face.

"You do know that it's the most famous cafe around town right? Besides its so close to the university maybe he's just a random college student?" she tried to reason.

Maybe she was right. Maybe you were reading too much into the situation and maybe he really was a random stranger who happened to be around you most of the time by a stroke of coincidence. You looked up momentarily and met his eyes, a jarring shiver running down your spine when he stared back blankly, sipping on his coffee, his headphones hanging around his neck, gaze focused intensely on you. You tried to shake off the unsettling feeling creeping up in your chest and managed a small, polite smile in his direction. Maybe he was just someone who had a crush on you and needed some encouragement to talk? And if you were being honest..he was insanely gorgeous, that was the main reason you had noticed him at the cafe before.

What you weren't expecting was for him to go stiff in his seat and break eye contact. You watched in confusion and worry as he slammed his coffee down on the table and stood up, eyes downcast, hurrying towards the other side of the restaurant. You felt disrespected and confused while you watched his retreating figure. What the fuck was his problem??

"You still there? Y/n? What's happening?" syd's voice brought you back to the conversation at hand.

"Idk I smiled at him and he just...left, so weird" you whispered to her and she cackled

"Men" she snickered and you chuckled, finally breathing in relief now that he wasn't around and breathing down your neck

"Men" You laughed back, stirring the conversation onto the other topics while you finished your meal.

your phone dinged while you were waiting for your bus to arrive, the phone number was unknown, weird, you thought.

Your blood ran cold when you read the first sentence, a couple more messages flooding in one after another.

[Unknown]

[9:34] : your smile is so pretty, had to rub one out in the restaurant's washroom baby

[9:34] : can't wait anymore

[9:35] : you're mine you know, I just need to show it to you

[9:36] : fuck i know you're reading my msgs, r they turning u on?

What the actual fuck?

You cupped your mouth with your palm and turned off your phone, looking around frantically, the panic rising in your chest, but you saw no one around and it creeped you out more.

A relieved sigh left your mouth when you saw your bus pulling over, hurriedly getting inside and squeezing through the crowd, moving past pressing bodies to reach the end of the bus, leaning against the glass window and panting with the exertion and relief of finally being in a safe space, scanning the crowd to see if he was there.

The bus doors closed and you finally stood up properly, your shoulders relaxing, turning around to look out the window while u held onto the strap handles on the ceiling.

What a fucking weirdo, you thought. How did he even get your number? had he been stalking you all this time? How had you been so slow in noticing him?

you felt him before you saw him, his large hand coming up to engulf yours on the strap handle you were holding, pressing his body closer to your behind. Your chest constricted in acute fear, the position was so uncomfortable that you tried moving forward to create some space between you two, leaving the strap handle and pressing yourself closer to the glass windows, holding on to one of the seat handles instead. This can't be happening, how did you not see him get on the bus, your hands started sweating.

You knew you were in trouble when he shamelessly invaded your space again, both hands looping through your waist to rest against your stomach while he buried his nose in your hairs , inhaling deeply.

Your breathing became heavy, your nerves making you freeze. You looked around and realized that the bus was too crowded for anyone to notice anything inappropriate, with the way he was holding you, you almost looked like a couple. Almost.

Your eyes met an elderly man's and you were about to open your mouth to scream for help when you yelped from feeling a sharp object dig into your side. Your blood ran cold.

"Don't even think about it" he whispered. His voice was deep and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. You stilled, facing forward to not provoke him. He was so much bigger than you, his body practically covering yours. You did not want to die here tonight. He wasn't going to kill you was he? Would anyone ever find out what happened to you if he did? Tears started to gather in your eyes when you felt his hands squeezing around your body, touching and groping u like u were meat.

"U think anyone would care? look around you, these are all men sweetheart, they would probably jerk off while you cry for me" He chuckled condescendingly in your ear, his one hand moving up towards your chest, groping your boobs harshly, a gasp leaving your trembling lips at his actions. A satisfied groan left his chest at feeling you, his fingers digging into your mounds.

"so fucking big, ever fucked a cock between them baby?" He asked and a sob left your lips at his words. No one had ever talked to you this way before. It was making you feel so dirty, a weird feeling rising inside your chest.

He chuckled at sensing your discomfort, running his hands down your body, leaving your boobs and groping your ass through your skirt, lifting it above your rear cheeks, basically exposing your bottom half to the entire bus if someone were to look over.

"ever taken a dick in this gorgeous ass? fucked back on a dick while it pounded your tight hole?" He groaned, groping your hips and connecting his lower region to your ass, his actions pushing you forward to press against the glass. You pressed your hands against the window to gain some balance, the position giving him leverage to rut into your behind.

"mhmmfuck do u feel how excited you make me? " He asked groaning in your ear, running his tongue against it while his hard cock poked your ass repeatedly as he grinded against you. You could feel that he was big, a disgusted shiver ran down your body when you realised how violating this all was. But at the same time, a sick tingling feeling was beginning to throb between your legs.

"Take your panties off" He whispered and you thought you heard him wrong.

"w-what" You sobbed quietly, dreading what this was leading to, his fingers flexed impatiently at your sides, his hips moving against youu in a subtle grind.

"I said fucking take them panties off, you won't need them soon anyways" your hands shook as you slowly reached under your skirt to slide your panties off your legs, the implication of his words wasn't lost on you.

"fuck yeah" He groaned, snatching the lace fabric from your hands. You shivered feeling the cold air run between your legs, cursing yourself mentally for opting out of wearing pants today, more tears ran down your cold cheeks.

Slurping sounds reached your ears and you closed your eyes, trying to drown out the sounds of him licking into your panties. The sounds were so lewd, you wanted to puke. This can't be happening to you. The movements of his hips became fast, muffled moans coming out of his mouth while he rotated his hips to search more friction for his throbbing cock against your bare ass.

"You smell like sex you know? Taste like fucking peaches, so fucking perfect" He panted, burying his face in your underwear.

you could hear his excitement in your ear and it was starting to affect your body in a way that disgusted you. The moisture was beginning to gather in your pussy, body heating up from the assault.

"fuck this shit" You heard him curse and he pulled away from you, dangling sound of a belt being undone and pants being unzipped made your body shake in anticipation of the oncoming violation of your body. It was going to happen. You were going to be raped. More hot tears spilled over your cheeks, a sob building up in your throat.

"Name's sunghoon, remember that while I tear your pussy apart" he whispered.

"P-Please" You sobbed quietly even though you had no hope left when he was pressing his body into you again, a hot and heavy organ digging between your thighs.

"p-please no, please stop, I'll do anything" you sobbed again, a sharp gasp leaving your throat when he rubbed his cockhead against your entrance, gathering your slick.

"you're wet as fuck for me baby-shit-u like getting raped on subways yeah?" he chuckled, hissing through his teeth when he finally breached your opening, tearing through your cunt, impaling you on his monster cock roughly. A sharp pain tore through you, your pussy unable to adjust to the harsh entry, he was too big for you. You scratched against the glass window, resting your forehead against it to find some support as you sobbed in pain.

His mouth found your ear again and he started to thrust in you, groans of satisfaction leaving his lips upon feeling the tight clench of your warm pussy.

"dreamed of raping your cunt since the first time i saw you in that cafe baby" he panted, his words confirming your suspicions about him, but what use was that suspicion when you couldn't even protect yourself? His dick lodged itself into your womb again and again, a reminder of your foolishness.

"always so pretty, wanted to open your legs and fuck into you while everyone watched, that guy that works with you? He wants your pussy too, that fucker" He groaned and snapped his hips into you harder, a pained sob ripped through you again. Jake? No.. Jake was a sweetheart, he would never think about you like that.. . He would never -

"You're so unaware of the effect you have on men's dicks aren't you baby? - jesus fuck- if given the chance, everyone here would bury their dicks in this slutty pussy, raping it till they're satisfied" He groaned, chuckling condescendingly, as if mocking your naive nature with the constant pistoning of his hips into your cunt.

"pussy so good, so fucking tight and creamy mhmmn" he moaned into your ear in pleasure, more slick ran down your legs, your lower body burning up in arousal now, a sick pleasure running through your body as his dick kept bumping your cervix. His hands travelled inside your shirt and groped your breasts roughly and painfully, holding onto them for leverage while he thrusted into you like a madman.

"Oh fuck yeah, jerked off to this image so many times baby, fucked into my fucking fist imagining it was your cunt"

Your eyes closed, unable to stop yourself from moving your hips back on him, it was instinct, or maybe some sick part of you was enjoying this. Tears ran down your eyes again, but for an entirely different reason now.

"fuck yeah baby - he laughed in disbelief, his thrusts getting deeper now that you were meeting his hips halfway - fuck back on me like a fucking slut"

Your bodies found a rhythm and a lewd moan left your lips as the pleasure started clouding your brain.

"Yeah? Raping this pussy so good huh?" he panted, hot heavy breaths falling against the side of your face, his eyes rolling back in pleasure due to the insane friction of your lower bodies.

The sound of slick squelching and skin slapping was reaching your ears and you looked around to see if anyone could see you both. Your eyes met the elderly man's from before but this time his stare was different. A jolt of pleasure ran through you when you saw him squeezing his cock through his pants while he watched you getting violated.

You slammed yourself back on the dick that was moving in and out of you faster while you watched the lewd sight. Your hand moved down to lift your shirt up and bite its hem into your mouth so that your entire body was exposed. Your boobs already spilling out of your bra cups, being held onto by sunghoon who was fucking into your greedy cunt.

A sick satisfaction washed over you when you watched the elderly man haphazardly unzip his pants and slip his hand inside, his eyes watching your body get used and violated, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

"Yeah that's right baby, show him what he's missing out on, show him how u like to get raped by random men's cocks like a real slut" sunghoon groaned , his eyes catching onto the scene your gaze was pivoted to.

A gasp left your lips when you felt sunghoon shift your body to the side so that it was facing halfway towards the man while still being hidden from the rest of the passengers. He lifted your right leg and held it up, holding it from under your knee, spreading you out, giving the pervert man a fucking show.

"Now he can see how my dick moves in and out of your creamy cunt, raping it so good that you're making a mess-shit baby just like that" He panted in your ear, his hips snapping harshly into yours. Your eyes met the old man's again and you moaned upon seeing his hand moving faster and faster inside his pants, drool falling from his lips.

fuck why was this so hot, what was fucking wrong with you??

Your hips moved back into sunghoon's, cunt slamming down on his dick, grinding and fucking back cuz your brain was broken, the thought of cumming overwhelmed your senses, your pussy leaking gallons of slick, making the act of penetration more pleasurable for the both of you. Sex getting messier and nastier.

"keep fucking it baby-holy shit- you need to keep fucking that dick, just like that oh yeah" His breathing was becoming heavy, your mouth was panting, working your body faster and faster to chase that friction on his dick.

His one hand left your chest and travelled down your body to rub your engorged clit, a sharp moan leaving your lips, making him slap you on the clit harshly.

"Don't let them hear u, or do u wanna get gang raped- he groaned, feeling your pussy clench at the thought- is that what u want? what a greedy little cunt" He chuckled hotly, licking into your ear cavity.

His thumb rubbed your swollen clit, making the knot in your stomach tighten, you were so fucking close. Your eyes met the old man's while sunghoon's thrusts became sloppy, his groans getting whinier , the pleasure getting too much for your tangled sweaty bodies. His pelvis met your ass in a few more harsh thrusts, his balls slapping the underside of your thighs

"You're gonna make me fucking cum, yeah fuck yeah make me fucking cum baby" He groaned, his high so close you could feel yours approaching too.

"cum cum cum, gonna cum in you, gonna take you raw, fuck my babies in that cunt, fuck jesus-ughmhmmm- his words cut off as his hips stilled , his dick spurting cum inside of you, your own eyes rolled back upon seeing the old man cum in his pants like a freak, your pussy clenched harshly around sunghoon's dick, milking him for all that he was worth as you came all around him, making him ride his orgasm.

"Shit yeah, feels so motherfucking good" He moaned, pushing his hips deeper into you, fucking his cum back into your cunt, breeding into you. His hold on your body loosened and his dick slid out of you with a pop when you heard your stop approaching. He shoved the panties in your hands and you instantly wore them back, adjusting your shirt and skirt while he watched, his zip still open and cock still hanging out, his hand fisting it to overstimulation, a pained hiss leaving his lips at how good it felt.

You turned around to meet his eyes and watch him jerk off his cock harshly, biting on his lower lip, pressing against your body again, his brows furrowed in pleasure, hot breaths falling on your face.

Your pussy was starting to heat up again, seeing pure carnal pleasure on his face was driving you insane, god what had he done to you?

He slammed his lips into yours and licked into your hot mouth while his hand continued to fist his dick, trying to make himself cum again. He groaned at your taste, his movements becoming faster. He pulled back from the kiss to rest his forehead against yours and stuck his tongue out, just a millimetre away from your lips. As if on instinct, you stuck your own tongue out to meet the tip of his, moaning at the feeling, rubbing your tongues against each other while he jerked off, saliva dripping down your chins.

When you sucked his tongue into your mouth, you felt his body jerk rapidly, pleasure overtaking his senses as he groaned into your mouth and came all over his hands, finally pulling away from you, sighing in relief and satisfaction.

The bus had reached your stop, coming slowly to a halt but before you could move to leave, he was bringing his cum covered hand to your lips "lick it clean" he whispered and you met his dark eyes, maintaining eye contact while your tongue snuck out to eat his cum out of his hands, moaning at the taste.

"Fuck" he cursed at the sight, watching as you licked his hand clean and finally walked away from him, licking your mouth clean with your fingers.

You were his perfect match.

[poweringthroughthis]

save a horse (ride a cowboy) | lee minhyuk

nsfw, minors DNI!

pair: huta x male reader

desc: (name) gives his boyfriend a wake-up call that will leave him desiring it every morning that follows.

Minhyuk wakes up to the feeling of someone's eyes on him. He keeps his own eyes shut, wanting to find out who's staring at him so shamelessly, and when he does, he finds the culprit is his boyfriend of almost a year, sitting with his legs folded by the side of Minhyuk's bed, looking right at his face. Minhyuk blinks a few times, still half-asleep. "Babe, what are you doing?" he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

His boyfriend doesn't answer. He doesn't even react, really, except for a faint, secret smile curving his lips. He looks at Minhyuk, but also somehow through him, as though he's seeing something that Minhyuk isn't privy to. It's a little eerie, to be honest, but at the same time it sends a pleasant, tingling warmth into Minhyuk's belly, as it always does whenever he catches his boyfriend staring at him like this, with a kind of want and fascination, like Minhyuk is something to be adored, worshipped, savoured. Like Minhyuk is a work of art, and his boyfriend is a collector. That's how his boyfriend is, and that's what's so wonderful about him, Minhyuk thinks. He's young, yes, almost ten years Minhyuk's junior. He's kind and adorable, and all those other things. But there's a depth to him, an intensity and maturity that Minhyuk's never seen before in a man so young.

"Babe," he says, smiling now, stretching a little. "Come here, stop staring at me like that." (name) crawls over to him on the bed, and straddles his hips, knees resting on the mattress, one hand braced beside Minhyuk's shoulder, the other holding the blanket that's draped over him. He doesn't say anything. Just stares at Minhyuk with that look in his eyes, and god, it's hot, the way his gaze rakes over Minhyuk's face, his eyes, his nose, his lips. (name) doesn't hesitate to let his gaze wander downwards, admiring Minhyuk's bare chest, the broad, well-defined muscles that he loves to bury his face in when they cuddle, the firm, hard skin.

Minhyuk feels his dick twitch in interest, and he knows his boyfriend can feel it too, from the way his hips are pressed against Minhyuk's. But Minhyuk wants more than just that. He wants to hear his boyfriend's voice, and have him tell him exactly what he's thinking, what's got him so hot and bothered so early in the morning. "Hey, what's gotten into you?" he murmurs, reaching a hand up to stroke the back of his boyfriend's head. "Come on, say something." "I want you to fuck me," his boyfriend says, blunt and straightforward. And that goes straight to Minhyuk's cock. He can feel himself getting hard, the front of his boxers already tenting, and his boyfriend must have felt it, because he presses down a little, grinding himself onto Minhyuk's erection.

"Oh god," Minhyuk gasps, arching up. "Hyung," his boyfriend moans, rocking his hips, pressing down again. "Fuck me. Please. I've been thinking about it all night." "Shit," Minhyuk curses. It's a Saturday morning. He has nothing scheduled for the day, no need to get out of bed until later. But his boyfriend, he doesn't have classes until the afternoon. "Don't you have class today?" "I do," his boyfriend answers. He leans forward, lips hovering close to Minhyuk's. "But that's not going to stop me from taking you." "Holy fuck," Minhyuk whispers. "Where's all this coming from? Why are you being so aggressive all of a sudden?" His boyfriend shrugs. "I dunno. I just want you, I guess." Minhyuk groans, as his boyfriend's hips grind down on him again, slow, hard. "I want you too, babe. Always."

"I want to ride you, hyung," his boyfriend whispers, right against his mouth. "Want to ride your cock. Please." Minhyuk gasps again, hands gripping his boyfriend's hips, fingers digging into the skin. "Can I?" his boyfriend asks, looking right at him, a smile on his face. And oh, fuck. Minhyuk can't resist his boyfriend when he smiles like that, they both know it. "Yeah," Minhyuk agrees, a little too eager and breathless. "You can." (name) grins, and climbs off him, Minhyuk immediately missing his boyfriend's warmth. "Wait," he exclaims. "Don't you need to… y'know… prepare?" (name) shrugs. "Already did it while you were asleep," he says casually. And Minhyuk nearly chokes. "W-while I was sleeping? Holy shit." (name) laughs. Minhyuk then reaches up and grabs the back of his boyfriend's head to pull him down into a kiss.

(name) makes a surprised sound, muffled against Minhyuk's lips, but Minhyuk doesn't stop, just kisses him deeper, harder. He opens his mouth, licking along the seam of his boyfriend's lips, coaxing them apart, and then his tongue slides in, meeting (name)'s, tangling, sliding together. He breaks away from the kiss, and sits up. (name) temporarily settles beside him, and Minhyuk starts tugging down his shorts, and lays down, legs spread. (name) throws one knee over Minhyuk's spread thighs and moves, slowly, carefully, so that he's sitting right on Minhyuk's lap.

"Go on. Hop on your ride" Minhyuk teases. His boyfriend's mouth falls open. "That was such a dad joke." "Hey, don't diss the d," Minhyuk says. "That's going to be inside you in a minute." "Hyung," (name) whines, burying his face in his hands with shame. Minhyuk chuckles, and his boyfriend's cheeks are still flushed with embarrassment, but he lifts his head up, and looks at Minhyuk again, his eyes dark with lust. "Okay," Minhyuk murmurs, and his hands go to his boyfriend's hips, fingers wrapping around the jut of his hip bones. "Ride me." And oh, his boyfriend does. He rises up on his knees, and reaches a hand back, gripping the base of Minhyuk's cock. Minhyuk's fingers tighten their hold on his boyfriend's hips, and (name) positions himself over the head, ever so slowly sinking down.

"Ohhhh," his boyfriend groans. "Hyung, you're so big," his boyfriend whimpers. "It's always so hard to take you, it's so deep." "You love it," Minhyuk growls. "Yes, i do," (name) moans, as he lifts himself up again, and drops back down, taking all of Minhyuk's length inside him. "Fuck," Minhyuk swears. "Baby, do that again. Please." And he does. "Shit, baby, you're amazing. Look at you, riding me so well, like you were born to take my cock."

"Hyung," his boyfriend pants, head tilted back, mouth open. "Yes, god." Minhyuk grins. "Look at you, baby. You love it, don't you? You love being on top. Love showing hyung how well you can take him." "Yes, hyung," his boyfriend keens, riding him faster, bouncing on his cock. "Fuck, that's it," Minhyuk encourages him, squeezing his hips, bucking his hips up, thrusting into his boyfriend. "Hyung," (name) screams. "Fuck me. Fuck me harder, please. " "Yeah," Minhyuk growls, lifting his boyfriend's hips up and slamming him back down, impaling him on his cock, as (name) wails. "You like that?" Minhyuk says, doing it again. Minhyuk grunts, and slams the boy down on his cock, again and again, until he's sobbing, his voice breaking on every word.

"Please," he cries. "What do you want, baby?" Minhyuk taunts, as he continues fucking his boyfriend's ass, his movements becoming slower, more measured, deeper. "Hyung, please," (name) sobs. "touch me. I'm so close. ." Minhyuk grins. "Not yet, baby," he whispers. "You can't come until I say you can." "Hyung," (name) protests.

"You said you wanted to ride me," Minhyuk reminds him. "Ride me like you mean it. Don't stop, baby. Don't you dare fucking stop." (name)'s eyes flutter closed, his hands gripping Minhyuk's chest for stability. He rides him, bouncing on his cock, taking him in over and over, until his thighs are trembling with effort. "Good boy," Minhyuk breathes. "My baby boy's doing so well."

(name) whines, his eyes wet, his bottom lip trembling. "you can come," Minhyuk tells him. (name) blinks, and the tears finally spill, rolling down his cheeks. He sobs as his body spasms, as his hips buck, as his cock twitches, shooting ropes of cum onto his and Minhyuk's bellies. "That's it," Minhyuk purrs, fucking up into his boyfriend, feeling him clench and quiver around him. He whimpers, his body shaking with the aftershocks.

"Hyung, finish inside me," (name) pleads. "Come inside me, please." "Yeah," Minhyuk nods, and grabs (name) by the throat, thrusting into him, fast. After a a couple of times, he's coming, with his fingers digging into his boyfriend's hips, pulling him down, down, as he spills his load inside him, grunting loudly. Minhyuk lies down on the bed, pulling (name) with him so that the younger now rests over his boyfriend’s naked form. Minhyuk's hands slide down (name)’s back,down his ass, and when he reaches the swell of his buttocks, his fingers slide in, spreading his asscheeks apart, feeling his cum start to leak out of his hole.

"Hyung, don't," (name) says, pushing his hands away. "That's so gross." Minhyuk smiles, and leans up to kiss him. "I'll clean you up," he offers, and (name)'s face goes red, embarrassed. "Okay," he lets Minhyuk pick him up and carry him to the bathroom, and Minhyuk feels a rush of affection for his adorable boyfriend. Holding him close, he kisses his neck and whispers, "I love you." "Love you too," (name) whispers back.

Minhyuk gently places him on the counter, and wets a towel, using it to wipe the cum off of his body. When he's done, he sets the cloth aside and wipes himself too. "Thank you for that, baby," he murmurs as he pecks (name)'s lips. Minhyuk helps him off the counter, and then picks him up again, carrying him back to the bed. The older male lays him down, and then gets inside the sheets, next to him.

(name) hums happily, burrowing into Minhyuk's warmth. "How was that for a wake-up call?" he asks, a smile in his voice. "Wonderful," Minhyuk chuckles, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend as the two go right back to sleep.

[idyllicidols]

Caught.

A/N: Tumblr tells me I've been on here for a year already. Time really flies! Just a quick one for Happy self anniversary and Merry Christmas.

***

"Hello?!"

Nayeon calls out as she enters your apartment, closing and locking the front door behind her. There's an eerie silence as she walks through the hall. Your door is slightly open, just a crack. Nayeon gives it a light nudge and pokes her head inside.

"Merry Christm-"

Nayeon drops her duffle bag by the foot of the bed, her breath quick and heavy. Her heart almost stops beating. Her body freezes, rigid with shock.

She hears groaning, coming from a figure laying on your bed in the center of the room. Your cock in your hand, your phone in the other, frozen in place while your best friend looks at you in disbelief.

You can't take your eyes off her, quickly placing your phone back onto the nightstand.

You didn't even think. The content of your phone remaining visible until the screen falls asleep: a photo of her - nothing even scandalous about it, just a photo of her, smiling at the camera with her cute bunny teeth and gummy smile—making a dumb cute little peace sign and acting like a goof. The screen finally goes dark, but the image is burned into her mind. A photo of her. You were jerking off to a photo of her. Your best friend.

Nayeon stumbles forwards, her mouth agape and her brain still failing to comprehend any of the shit that's happening.

It's like an out-of-body experience. Nothing makes sense anymore, everything is wrong. All the air seems to escape from her lungs, and all her thoughts melt out of her ears.

You lay there silently, your cock sitting on your stomach, covered with your own precum. Your heart is about to burst out of your chest, sweat sticks your hair to your forehead, heat emanates from every inch of your body. You should have heard her outside.

"Nayeon, it's not what you think."

"Oh yeah? What is it? Because this seems pretty fucking obvious to me."

"I don't know! I mean, I do, but...shit."

Nayeon fumbles through the photos. More images of her, from different angles, of different clothing, none particularly pornographic or inappropriate. A few shots that highlight the curve of her body, one that is focused on the swell of her firm ass, one from the front where you can see how snug her yoga pants are.

"So this is what you're into then, huh, jerk?"

Nayeon sits down on the bed with a thud. You're at a loss for words, laying next to her awkwardly, cock awkwardly hanging against your stomach. Nayeon doesn't speak at all. You can practically hear her think, processing this information, unsure what it means, uncertain whether she should feel flattered, used, hurt, betrayed, disgusted.

Without another word, or any kind of warning…

Nayeon starts to undress, her shirt thrown behind her. Her basic pink bra cups her petite breasts, a small layer of flesh rises up over the cup, but it's hard to make out. The top half of her torso, from her clavicle to her abdomen, is toned muscle, lithe and defined, feminine and sexy. You can't tear your gaze away from the taut curves of her shoulders, her arms, her hands, which start working on taking her jeans off.

"Keep going jerk. Touch yourself."

You look at her quizzically. Nayeon has never talked to you so harshly, especially about this kind of stuff, and even less while she was slowly stripping out of her clothes in your bed. This is a new side to her, your best friend still has the same looks to her, only now she's half-naked, stern and intense and almost angry as she watches you slowly jacking yourself, holding your member at a gentle but eager pace.

"Is this what you like? Pervert. Thinking about me while you jerk yourself off? Is the real thing better?"

Her barrage of questions makes your head hurt. Or perhaps it's just the amount of blood that seems to be going to your cock, as your mind fills with a haze of lust and desire. This condescending tone. The humiliation. Is this really what you're into?

Your thumb glides over your swollen, sensitive tip, a quiet moan escapes you as Nayeon lays next to you on her side, watching.

"Disgusting. Tch."

With each disparaging comment from her lips, the greater the pit forms in your stomach.

"You wanna see them?" Nayeon teases, letting one of her straps fall down her shoulder.

Your throat is dry. So fucking dry that it's hard to talk. So you nod your head in the most shameful and guilty way imaginable. It's Nayeon. Your Nayeon. There are boundaries that aren't supposed to be crossed and lines that shouldn't be crossed, and here you are, crossing them both.

She lets the other strap slip off her shoulder. Nayeon plays around with you a bit, letting just a hint of tit flesh spill out of the side before sliding the cups up again. After letting your pathetic begging whines linger for a minute, she undoes the hook of her bra in one smooth, single-handed motion and slowly takes it off.

"Well better or worse than what's in that fucked up head of yours?"

"Better..." You groan out, your hand instinctively reaching out towards her chest.

She slaps your hand away, pinning your wrist down into the mattress.

"Perv. Fucking touch me and I'll tear off your dick, got it?"

Nayeon said no touching, but she did nothing to stop you from jerking off in front of her. Actually, quite the opposite: Nayeon leans in even closer, her fingers trailing down the sides of her small perky tits. She lifts the small handfuls and gives them a playful shake, grinning at how desperately your mouth hangs open, lust clouding over your eyes, completely entranced. She knows full well she doesn't have a spectacular pair of melons, but in this case, she's fairly confident in them and what they're able to accomplish. And accomplishing a whole lot right now, it seems like.

You're mesmerized and enamored and lost and whatever the fuck else the synonyms for obsessed are. You want her. God do you ever want her, your arousal building more and more as Nayeon trails down the waistband of her underwear. Down, past her soft curving hips, exposing the tight pink slit underneath.

"You're not gonna cum already are you?" Nayeon mocks. "Look into my eyes" she orders, taking her thumb and giving your bottom lip a tug, forcing your drooling face to stare into her smoldering eyes, her tone still berating.

"Focus. Don't you look away, okay?"

A whimper and a nod. "Okay Nayeon." You're willing to do anything at this point, if only she allows you to keep staring at those brown bedroom eyes of hers. You are so fucking screwed.

"Good. Follow my fingers now. But remember, no touching." With that her hand slides down: down to neck, hovering over perfect handful of tits, gently pinching her rock hard nipples, a blissful smile washing over Nayeon as she does. Fingers trace around her navel, delicate and lovingly, teasing your poor erection with an agonizing display of sexuality and intimacy, torturous enough to make you beg for it, but never doing. Your balls feel so tight. Your entire pelvis feels like one massive tight knot.

"Keep watching..." Nayeon notices your blanked out expression, snapping her fingers to draw your attention back to her. Finally, finally! Her hands slither under the waistband of her underwear, and with a devious smirk, finally pulls her panties off and throws them to the floor. Nayeon presses a couple fingers to her nether lips, feeling the wetness, then showing off her slick coated finger to you.

"Wanna sniff?"

You want to so badly. It would only take a moment, it'd be so easy to cross over those inches. Her beautiful eyes. The girl you've known for so many years. Your best friend. You pathetically pant, like a dog who knows he shouldn't be begging his owner, but still hoping against hope to get the treats she has locked away.

Nayeon thrusts out her fingers again, rubbing them directly against your nose—smearing the honey across your upper lip. That heavenly sweet aroma. An explosion of alluring femininity that hits you like a brick, a thick waft of her womanly smell so strong and enticing.

And yet you can't touch, unable to do anything but pathetically touch yourself , like some kind of fugitive prisoner denied everything but the cruelest of tortures. You want to run. Escape from the intoxication and humiliation. To say 'let's just not ever bring this up again, be friends like we always were.'

But that'll never happen, not when Nayeon holds her hand over yours.

"Why don't you cum already eh? I'm waiting to see what a worthless perv like you looks like when he orgasms. Look at your gross, needy face."

If only you weren't so damn excited. A warm, burning sensation coils in your chest, pooling downwards. Nayeon isn't even touching it—there's no skin on skin contact with your cock. Instead she's using your hand like a puppet, pumping faster and faster, bringing yourself right to the brink, watching with wicked glee at the pitiful state you're in.

"Thinking about your best friend. After all we've been through. How the fuck do you even live with yourself? Pathetic."

A shudder goes through your body, as if you are absorbing the verbal abuse she gives you, making you even more aroused than before, feeling ashamed and dirty and alive. It's sick, perverted, and horrible, yet you revel in it, taking pleasure in feeling inferior, seeing her act with superiority and indifference to you and your pleas.

Her hand is over yours, her soft skin so close to your cock, yet so far—forcing your hand up and down, the head throbbing and swelling, unable to hold on any longer. Your entire focus is on Nayeon and her lithe touch. How her tiny tits jiggle ever so slightly when she moves. How her dark locks drift about her frame, flowing past her slim arms.

Before you even know it, you're blowing your load, feeling like a teenager in your own body, humiliated as it happens, almost falling backwards from the force, completely submitting to the control of another, spraying all over yourself, as Nayeon stares at you with disgust and contempt in her eyes. "You already came? God damn, that was even faster than I expected."

You can't stand the fact that you orgasmed within seconds of Nayeon touching you, even if it was over your hand. So easily able to dominate you, you are overtaken by desire, need and lust. By shame and embarrassment, your cock in your hand with jizz all over you.

She picks up her clothes and walks away, leaving you with a mix of shame and indignation, getting dressed while ignoring you.

As she is about to leave she turns back and faces you.

"See you tomorrow, pervert. Coffee. Yea?"

You're left alone, covered in jizz, looking down and watching yourself go soft and your member drip onto your lower belly. Your head is cloudy with afterglow, unhinged and confused feelings settle over you; part guilt, part exhilaration, all humiliation. Your body feels exhausted. The cold December air cools the sticky substance, drying it against you, you feel it, that's your shame, a shame that Nayeon exuded upon you and that you took pleasure in.

[headlines-headlines]

𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐌𝐮𝐳𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

★ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲! Walking late at night after a grueling day at work was not uncommon for you. However, on this fated night, you would encounter the king of demons himself, unaware that you had been chosen as the perfect meal to satisfy an unexpected craving.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! female bodied reader, smut, slight violence + dubious consent/dub-con, public sex, strong language/name calling, mean demon fucking, raw sex, breeding/creampie.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k

𝐚/𝐧: I'm back with a bangerrr <3 (divider: @cafekitsune)

Briskly walking down a darkly lit street, all you could focus on was the sound of your shuddering breaths. Your small town always appeared to be damn near abandoned at night, and with rumors of mythical man-eating entities roaming in the area, you couldn't wait to be in the safe confines of your own home. It didn't help that along the way, you'd spotted eerie shadows darting around street corners, or fleeting whispers that threatened to linger behind you. 

You never meant to stay out this late, but unfortunately, as an underpaid and very overworked seamstress, you were assigned several more urgent orders to complete for extremely picky, yet high paying clients. Your sharp-tongued boss prevented you from leaving until the majority of your orders were complete, meaning you were the sole employee to close up shop. Before you knew it, the sky outside was pitch black, and the streets desolate. 

"I don't get paid enough to deal with this shit..." You mumbled absentmindedly, soon approaching the dimly lit alley you needed to pass through in order to reach your home. Per usual, you felt your nerves pleading with you to take the longer route instead of the shortcut, but tonight you were growing warier than expected. Maybe it was the exhaustion? Honestly, you could sleep right where you stood if you really wanted to, but a nagging feeling in the back of your brain was telling you that wasn't the case. As stubborn as you were though, you knew you would just have to see it through. Your cozy bed awaited you and that was motivation enough.

Eyeing the dingy path, you took several deep breaths, clutching your work bag tighter as you turned a corner into quite literally the least lit area you've ever known. You hated that the walk was a good five-minutes too, just becoming narrower and narrower as you went on. There were a few dimly lit lamps towards the end, however, the light was not strong enough to illuminate the entire alley.

You kept a brisk pace, careful to watch your step as the footing was uneven and you were already straining to see. The tall buildings on either side of you blocked the moonlight from aiding your vision. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest while you used every fiber of your being to remain calm. You thought about if anyone would even hear you if anything happened, ominous scenarios of you fighting for your life flickering through your mind. You cursed your imagination, as it actively worked against your already heightened nerves. The eerie whispers from before returned, and seemed to grow in intensity and decrease in distance. The air around you began to darken, lingering on your skin. It was almost as if there was a presence deep in the alleyway that you couldn't see. You silently prayed whatever it was, if it even existed that is, would choose to ignore you, an ordinary, not particularly enticing woman.

Trudging a few more meters, you felt the air grow stiffer, as if you had suddenly changed altitudes, the ominous sounds soon ceasing. You took this as a sign to speed up, the crunching sounds of debris under your sandals and your labored breaths being the only thing you could hear. Squinting hard, you were able to see a ghastly red hue emanating from the other end of the alley, and you hoped, prayed, it was just an old street lantern burning to life. You were wrong. Soon you heard fast-paced steps to match your own, and before your body could even switch to fight-or-flight mode, you were sent crashing into the wall next to you with neck-breaking speed. Your bag was flung in an unknown direction, items clattering on the ground all around you.

"Fuck...," you cursed, reaching for your head. A pounding sensation rattled through your skull and down your spine, sending waves of pain throughout your body. From your place on the ground, your blurry vision could only make out the shape of unfamiliar leather shoes and slacks in front of you, not matching the picture of a grotesque monster that you had in mind. Tilting your head up ever so slightly, you pried your eyes open, only to be met with angry, slitted- red orbs. There was no question about it. Without a doubt, you had run into major trouble. This was actually the worst case scenario.

You had parted your lips, ready to beg for mercy, but your voice was stifled by the quickest hand around your throat, the demon now kneed at your level.

"Ple-" "Silence."

Every atom in your body heeded his command. His voice was unfathomably deep and stern, demanding your obedience. It was almost as if the air around him refrained from touching him without permission. His aura was threatening, to say the least. Your updo was now unraveled, unruly locks falling at your shoulders as the demon king strengthened his grip around your throat, slamming you back into the stone wall behind you. His claws grazed the sides of your neck, daring to draw blood. 

You could only meet his gaze with a panicked expression, tears pricking your eyes, with the strength of his grip slowly stealing the air from your lungs. Your mind grew impossibly dizzy, the blooming headache clouding any ability you had to run, fight, to do anything. You could only feebly grasp at his wrist with both hands, unable to even wrap your fingers around it, let alone try to pry him away.

He was incredibly close now, noses several inches away. His grip softened, and a thumb came up to your jaw, angling your face to the side, then back again. Examining you as a butcher would his next cut. His other hand found its way into your hair forming a vice grip to keep your eyes on him.

"Foolish girl. Why is a human, a woman at that, wandering the streets at this hour?" He sneered at you, not waiting for a response.

"Only an imbecile would make the mistake of crossing my path. Are you not aware of what, or who is standing before you?" His breath lightly fanned your face as he scanned your features.

You've heard stories about demons roaming the streets for their prey, however, you obviously believed it to be a myth. But demons don't really exist right? And there are certainly no kings or leaders that rule over them, ... right?

Through your pained expression, a look of incredulity shone through, fighting to believe what it was you were seeing. Upon realizing your disbelief, Muzan's lips curled ever so slightly into a smirk.

"Remember this name well human, for it may be the last one you know. You have placed yourself in the way of the king of demons himself, Muzan Kibutsuji," he murmured.

Muzan's slitted eyes watched the way your orbs would slowly roll back as he gave a tentative squeeze to your throat, only to come back down to meet his, hazy, yet watching him with so much fear. A frail little thing you were. He wasn't one to play with his food, but tonight his appetite was already satiated. Rarely did he allow himself to indulge, but he was starting to find an interest in the act of hunting for sport.

Your blood was rushing, senses slowly returning, and a view of your foe became clearer and clearer. A man with the sharpest features you've ever seen, untouched porcelain skin, all whilst dressed in tailored finery. A king indeed. Your brain struggled to comprehend how pleasing he was to the eye, yet so overwhelmingly fearsome. Dark hair framed his sinister expression, watching how you took everything in.

His thumb returned to the side of your face, but soon found a way past your lips and into your mouth. You felt the rough pad of his finger lightly bump your teeth. You pulled at his wrist once more, to no avail. Squeaks and gasps slipped past your lips, and a thin line of spit dribbled from the corner of your mouth as you sucked in as much needed air as you could. He scanned your body, watching how you tried your hardest to pull away from him, but he held you in place, thumb resting on your tongue. Your yukata was starting to slip past your shoulders, slowly becoming undone at the waist from all the movement. 

"P-Pleath-" you croaked once more, your request muffled while his thumb threatened to trigger your gag reflex. It was more of a whine than you intended, and you quickly averted your eyes from his burning glare, unable to understand why he eyed you so...hungrily? Your chest was nearly on full display, and your hands were already preoccupied with fighting off his grip, leaving you with hardly any way to preserve your decency. 

Muzan did not answer you, but still with a fistful of your hair, he tilted your head forward, forcing you to meet his eyes, and forcing his thumb further into your mouth. The siren's call of your gag reflex was triggered, only for a moment, and you sputtered around his finger.

"Did I not order you to be quiet?" he snapped, effectively shutting you up.

Your struggle seduced him, feeding his sadistic nature. He noted how his prey's form was also the very definition of a human temptress, your supple skin exposed for the taking. He questioned himself internally as to why he hadn't yet killed you, but instead, was pleased to watch you squirm beneath him. He found himself... amused... with the almost sinful sounds you were making, especially in a predicament such as this one. The way your body betrayed you, urging you to squeeze your thighs together underneath him. The hazy red glow that dusted your cheeks, lips puffed around the length of his finger, as you fought eye contact with him, well aware of how he was toying with you. He drank in your shame and embarrassment as if it was the sweetest of ambrosia. Letting a demon have his way with you in the dark, a filthy little thing, no?

"Suck," came the command.

You were mortified at your own helplessness, obeying him as you hollowed your cheeks and ran your tongue around his thumb, tasting the salty skin. You realized how impossible it was to even attempt to put up a fight. How incredibly unfair it was that your tired, overworked body was held tightly in the demon king's clutches. He was so warm, almost hot to the touch. You wanted to shut your eyes to ignore the wild glimmers that would flash in his eyes when he looked at you, when you lightly bobbed your head up and down.

Retracting his finger, Muzan turned your head to the side, leaning forward to deeply inhale the skin of your neck. Your frenzied emotions gave off its own scent, a very potent and heady aroma he couldn't get enough of. He felt you shudder harshly under him, which spurred him on more. A tongue darted out, licking a wet stripe along a prominent artery in your neck, from your collarbone to your earlobe. He could practically taste how fast your blood was pumping.

But he was suddenly enraptured with the idea of putting every part of your body in his mouth. He needed more of a reaction, and was interested in seeing how far he could break you.

You grew increasingly uncomfortable, a sense of resistance bubbling up within you as you let out grunts and noises of protest at his ministrations. Licks, sucks, and puffs of hot air littered your neck, and you felt the demon king's lips ghost your ear.

"Be glad it isn't your flesh I'm hungry for tonight, human," he murmured. "Trying to escape isn't in your best interest."

A hand fell from your hair, and your now aching scalp, sliding down underneath your yukata to cup a naked breast.

"Whoring you out in the open is much more fitting, don't you agree?"

Hearing him whisper such obscenities into the crook of your neck set your skin ablaze. You hated how his touches left you with no other option but to melt into him as he entertained himself with your body. His fingers found an already erect nipple, flicking and pinching as he pleased, listening to the quiet mewls & huffs you tried to suppress. Sucking on a certain weak spot on your neck, he coaxed a quiet but breathy 'oh' from your lips. Your voice had long but begun to betray you, threatening to call his name the way he now used both hands to push down the fabric around your chest, letting his rough hands roam free.

His body was pressed against yours, with Muzan crouched, your legs were bent on either side of him, and your back to the wall. The hem of your yukata was roughly bunched up around your hips, leaving your barely clothed & dampening cunt to make contact with his knee. Pulling away from you, his eyes leisurely trailed down your tits, and back up to your swollen lips, now red from biting down harshly to silence yourself. Your heart was caught in your throat for a moment, anticipating his next move and following the path of his eyes with your own. Your soft breaths were close enough to graze his chin. He contemplated closing the gap between the two of you, letting himself lock lips with and taste you, however, Muzan was in no rush for such fickle displays of intimacy. He wanted to prep you to please him, not form an emotional attachment.

Leaning forward, he brought one of your breasts to his mouth, enclosing his lips around a bud, sucking and nipping at it. His other hand snaked its way down the front of your torso, heading for the source of the wetness at his knee.

"Ngh- wait!" You breathed out, composure splintering at the feeling of his hot tongue on your tits, and painfully aware of his hand slipping into your underwear and tracing your moistened slit. You could only brace yourself for a second before you felt the pressure of two of his rough fingers pushing deep inside you, the intrusion causing you to knock your head back into the wall behind you.

"O-oh fuckk...," you couldn't hold back, the moans tumbling past your lips as he curled his digits inside, sinking his fingers to the hilt in your pussy. As he worked his fingers, your cunt drooled and spasmed around him, unable to adjust around the size and speed. With each thrust of his hand your tits bounced, and Muzan made sure to keep one or the other comfortably in his mouth. Squelching sounds filled the alley, along with short grunts and squeaks of pleasure. With his ring and middle finger, he seemed to search for a specific spot. A sudden yelp and hand to your mouth gave away the location of a sensitive bundle of nerves hidden deep in your core, which Muzan ruthlessly prodded, doing anything but easing you towards an orgasm.

"cumm- cummingggh..!" You moaned behind gritted teeth, choking back your voice.

You felt the tightly-wound coils snapping in your abdomen, eyes subsequently rolling back, body jerking, unable to withstand the overwhelming, delicious sensations that came crashing over you in waves. Your orgasm was powerful and without warning, no sweet nothings to coax you into it, simply coming hard on the demon king's thick fingers.

Your pussy squeezed around him in the aftershocks of your orgasm, and unbeknownst to you, your hips had been grinding in sync with his hand, wanting, no, needing more. However, you didn't dare speak up and say so, afraid he would turn on you, or worse, end your pleasure early. Releasing your mound from his mouth with a subtle 'pop' and retracting his fingers from your cunt, Muzan moved both hands to hold the fat of your hips, aiding in steadying you. The sense of emptiness was profound, and you once again felt your heart in your throat at the progression of events. This man just made you cum harder than you ever had before, yet the looming threat of being savagely ripped into still existed. Pleasuring you was not his main focus, however, it made it easier for him to move on to his next course of action.

Before you could return to being a frightened fawn, Muzan shifted your position in the blink of an eye. With his back now slightly leaning against the stone wall, you were seated atop his groin and held in place firmly. His eyes still held a menacing glare, yet you couldn't ignore the light rock of his hips, pressing further into your clothed wetness.

A hand returned to its previous location between your thighs, only to tear away your undergarments, prompting a quick yelp of surprise. Your bare cunt was now pressed against his hardening length, which you could feel straining against his slacks.

'Gods... That has to be an anaconda,' You internally fretted. The sensation was nearly akin to sitting on a log.

"Leave me unsatisfied and you die tonight. Understand?" He finally spoke, temporarily lifting your hips enough to undo his belt & unzip his pants, freeing himself from his confines.

You shakily nodded, unable to meet his eyes, instead focused on said anaconda resting just underneath his belly button. Seeing it in all its glory was nothing short of intimidating. The tip boasted a pink shade, angry veins running up and down his shaft. There was no introduction to the monster you were about to take. You were shocked he even had the decency to let you enjoy any part of your encounter, because what awaited you next was no walk in the park.

A hand moved to hold your waist, and the other gripped the back of your ass, lifting & spreading you open right over his erect cock. "Sit on it," Muzan commanded.

He watched as you, without much resistance, reached for his shoulders, balling the fabric in your small fist, holding on for dear life. A free hand was used to anxiously grab ahold of his member, as much as you could fit in your hand, and line it up with your quivering hole. Your thighs trembled as you held a squat, the burning sensation of exhausted muscles spreading through your limbs. You tentatively ventured lower, letting his tip get slightly sucked into your heat. Almost teasing. With the sound of your heartbeat thumping wildly in your ears, you failed to notice the lightest of groans bubbling deep within his throat. He was allowing himself to wait, anticipating your performance. His eyes were also trained on the bottom lip you kept catching in-between your teeth in frustration. And you squeezing your eyes shut as you began to lower your hips onto his throbbing cock.

He was way too big. He was outright punishing you, knowing how much of a painful stretch you had to endure, even just to fit his tip inside. But he wanted to watch just how far you would go to keep your life.

You let out a shameless groan, feeling the head of his cock push its way deeper into your pussy. It was splitting you open, inch by inch, leaving a burning stretch in its wake. Your cunt spasmed around the intrusion, struggling to make way for his size, knowing there would be no pause to allow you to adjust.

Impatiently, the hands around your ass brought you further down onto him, sinking himself to the hilt into your sloppy cunt. You were so tight and warm around him, he almost fought the idea of pulling out at all. 

With his unmatched strength, Muzan lifted your hips, starting off with sliding you up and down his length. His vice grip remained, preventing you from escaping or running away from it. The pace was agonizingly slow at first, with him taking his time to feel the the way your pussy gripped him so earnestly. You could feel every vein that lined his dick, and how it throbbed so needily inside.

"Mmf!-" You huffed, the wind getting knocked out of you as you were brought down harsher on his length, ass bouncing on his lap.

His girthy cock slipped in and out of you with demonic speed, your juices coating his member, and subsequently, his upper thighs. The two of you established a steady rhythm, the 'pat' 'pat' 'pat' of your wet cunt hitting his heavy balls.

It was a filthy scene, your pussy creaming and squirting with reckless abandon, your tits bouncing in his face. Your lids fluttered open, rolling upwards, full of desperation and dumbfounded pleasure, as a hand reeled back to deliver a stinging blow to your asscheek, knocking you forward a little bit.

"Oof!-" You yelped, feeling the buzzing sensation of his hand's assault on your skin. He did not ignore the way you clenched around him harder.

Muzan's brows were furrowed angrily, beads of sweat gathering on his forehead, and his gaze filled with wild passion as he forcefully bounced you up and down on his cock. 

"What a sight... stretching you out like the little whore you are, hm?" He taunted, voice dangerously low. "You're enjoying this aren't you? Naughty slut."

You were too enraptured with the constant feeling of Muzan's tip bullying your cervix to answer, his cock pounding deep into you with every bounce. The sounds of skin slapping echoed around you. After only receiving strangled moans and whimpers in return, he tilted his hips back, aiming for the same bundle of nerves which his fingers found not too long ago. It was like an electric current ripped through you right then. Your body jerked, and legs began to tremble, letting him know you were alarmingly close to another orgasm. You felt your abdomen start to tighten, cunt squeezing him impossibly tight, pleasure building quickly.

"Answer," came his command through gritted teeth.

"Y-yesss! Need m-more! I'm gonnaa.. gonna-" your words began to slur incoherently the closer you were to your climax. Your hands no longer just rested on his shoulders, but tangled in the dark locks behind his head, almost endearingly.

Muzan didn't mind making you cum on his dick once more, feeling ready to tip over the edge himself. He was losing much of his restraint with your grinding and squeezing of him. You were too warm and tight inside, it drove him crazy.

At that moment he felt the onset of your orgasm, cunt spasming around him. That was his breaking point. Leaning forward, his lips wrapped around your areola, sucking and nipping at the sensitive bud. He was still so enamored with your breasts, licking haughty stripes, leaving a trail of saliva as his tongue traced lazy shapes.

His arms wrapped around your torso, caging you in as he deeply fucked into you now, right through your climax. Your lewd moans were ignored as he allowed you to milk his cock dry, seed spilling deep inside you, aiming to be pushed into your womb.

Stars danced behind your eyes, and without meaning to, a whisper of his name fell past your lips as you ground into him. You could feel the warm globs of semen dribble past your entrance, and you were almost bashful at his decision to fill you up so boldly. Imagine it, getting knocked up by the demon king himself.

His hips slowed, soon coming to a stop with him still inside.

After a moment of labored breaths, and pants, he finally lifted you off him, feeling your warmth disappear from around his cock. He tucked his softening length back into his pants before placing you back into his lap. Slowly looking up at you, he held your fatigued gaze.

"I will not return. Do not find yourself in my path again, for I may not be so kind the next time. Do you understand me?" His tone was stern, yet his strong hands trailed up your thighs to cup your backside with some semblance of closeness.

"Yes Muzan."

[ptn-imagines]

I don’t know why but I have been thinking about Shalom and Rahu x fem!paradesis (or however you spell it) reader. Like they’re paired up for missions and stuff 😭😭😭

Here you go, anon! I figure that any Paradeisian that dates Rahu and Shalom is either already doubting Paradeisos or can be radicalized quickly. Also, these headcanons are mostly canon-compliant, but assume two divergences: 1) Rahu has been Shalom's bodyguard for longer than in canon, and 2) Paradeisos suspects something is fucky with Shalom. I spent a lot of time focusing on the pre-relationship, so if you want more, feel free to ask for a continuation!

This is 2.2k words, by the way. So I'm putting it under a cut to respect people's dashes.

Shalom and Rahu x Fem Paradeisos!Reader

When you first get paired with them for missions, they’re both… distant. On their guard.

Shalom is so polite and pleasant with you, it’s eerie. Rahu simply deigns not to talk to you unless you do so first, and when she does speak with you, her responses are short and sharp.

You’re used to the politics of Paradeisos leaving little room for niceties and frivolity, but these two feel like it’s something else. You can’t help but feel that you’re missing something you should really be aware of, but when you look around you, no one else seems to be bothered by it. Not even Shalom’s Schorl. Maybe it’s all in your head?

(You know that it isn’t, but what can you do about it?)

Honestly, you have no idea why your superiors keep assigning you with these two. Doesn’t Shalom have the entire HUSH system at her disposal, not just Rahu? And that’s without even mentioning the incredible power of her Schorl. All of it reeks of Paradeisian politics and you can’t help but feel like you’re just a pawn in a very intense game of chess with countless dimensions. Well, everyone is, but usually you can ignore the fact and get on with your duties. Not this time.

When your superiors have you report in secret at the end of the first month, you’re sure of it. They ask you all sorts of questions, but all of them relate to one topic – Shalom’s loyalty. It was in question? You’re baffled. You’re not privy to the details of her situation, it’s far above your station, but Shalom still never seemed like the type of person who’d betray Paradeisos. Rahu, maybe… but your superiors seemed to care as little for the Hush’s bodyguard as one would care for a slug beneath their boot.

Still, what can you do but answer honestly? You’ve not seen anything strange from either of them that would call their loyalty into question. You have no idea if this is the answer Paradeisos wanted to hear; the official you are speaking to has a completely unreadable expression, as always. He simply takes a few more notes and dismisses you, thanking you for your cooperation.

This continues, and you have to report on Shalom and Rahu’s activities every month. You get the feeling that the pair know why you’re truly here, and that’s why they’re so cautious of you. You don’t really blame them, as while you don’t have any evidence, you’re pretty sure that they must have something to hide. Paradeisos won’t care about mere speculation, though; it’s a blessing in some ways, since the unease you’ve been feeling about this whole situation has only grown stronger.

Paradeisos has really fucked up somehow; it’s the only impression you get of the whole thing. Much as it makes you feel like you’re walking directly into the lion’s den, you quickly come to the conclusion that you’ll never know peace unless you figure out just what is going on behind the scenes.

It’s impossible to catch Shalom without her Schorl, and you don’t want it reporting on your actions to Paradeisos. You’re not as valuable to them as the Hush, you’re expendable; if they so much as suspected your betrayal as they did with her, you’d be executed immediately. That left you with only one choice; speaking to Rahu. It was not a thrilling prospect.

Rahu didn’t like being in your company at the best of times, so interrupting her during a moment of repose did no favors for her mood. Her dark eyes glowered at you, lips twisted into a frown, almost a snarl. Still, it wouldn’t help her temper any more if you just left without saying anything, so you steeled your resolve and forged ahead.

“Rahu, sorry to interrupt you like this. I just want to ask you a few questions,” you began, and it wasn’t exactly Paradeisian to want to wither under somebody’s gaze, but the bodyguard looked for all the world like she was imagining one hundred different ways to kill you here and now. “It’s about you and Shalom… At the end of each of these past few months, Paradeisos has been asking me strange questions, ones that seem to call Shalom’s loyalty into question, and I wanted to know–”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Rahu lunged for you; you could hold your own in combat, but you were no match for a powerful Sinner like Rahu. The struggle could barely be called that, and within moments you were pinned helplessly on the ground, Rahu’s blade a hair’s breadth from your neck, bloody fury making her silver eyes seem to glow. Even as it marked your imminent demise, they were as breathtaking as they were terrifying.

“I knew you were a Paradeisian mole,” she growled, her hot breath tickling your face. “Shalom said the best thing to do was keep acting normal, but if you’re getting this nosy, no need to keep you around any longer.”

Her blade pressed into your skin, droplets of blood welling to the surface. You weren’t going to survive this – she wouldn’t listen to anything you had to say – but you resolved to keep your eyes open and at least face your demise with some degree of dignity.

However, that final blow never came. Instead, you heard the door swinging open, and Shalom’s voice sighed. “Did you two get into a fight? Rahu, let her up. I’m sure whatever you were arguing about isn’t worth killing her over.”

Rahu gave you a venomous look, but obeyed her lady’s orders, standing up and withdrawing. You were left on the floor, reeling in shock, unable to process what had just happened and instinctively taking Shalom’s offered hand. It was softer than you thought.

“Please forgive Rahu for her outburst,” Shalom said to you with a smile that almost felt sincere. “She’s been restless lately. I should have paid better attention to her. I’ll talk with her to make sure this doesn’t happen again. May I treat your wound?”

You’re honestly too shocked to do anything but accept her offer, and she guides you to sit down. Her hands are surgeon-steady as she dabs disinfectant into your wound – a shallow cut, really, it didn’t call for this almost-clinical care – and she’s surprisingly tender about it. Your heart flutters even as you press your lips together to silence a hiss of pain.

That month, the stern-faced official who receives your reports asks you a new question. “Schorl reported that you were attacked by the Hush’s bodyguard. Could you report the incident in more detail? We will eliminate the rogue element if it will prove a threat to your work.”

Your work, more like a threat to Paradeisos. You paused, careful to make it look like you were taking a moment to recall the incident. Without a doubt, this was a test from Shalom. Apparently, she had seen something that she was willing to trust in you, despite everything; she had to have known that what provoked Rahu to almost kill you wasn’t just a simple disagreement. Yet, the fact that she dared to issue this test in the first place… Surely she knew that you had the power to have her most trustworthy ally killed, right here, right now. Knowing her reputation, that meant only one thing: she was sure you’d cover for her and Rahu.

She was right. You spun a story about how you’d accidentally provoked a spike in Rahu’s Mania, which, in a Sinner as volatile and powerful as her, had quickly led to violence. You were pretty sure this would get Shalom scolded for not disciplining her dog better (you were certain that’s how Paradeisos viewed Rahu), but that was a mere slap on the wrist compared to the alternative.

When you next returned to Erica Villa, Rahu was waiting for you. You half-expected her to finish the job from last time, seeing as her gaze upon you was still distrustful. At least it wasn’t downright venomous anymore. Instead, she just grabbed you by the arm – firmly, but not roughly – and muttered “we need to talk” before dragging you into a room and locking it behind her.

Inside this locked room, Rahu admits that Shalom’s loyalty is to nobody but herself, and Rahu will faithfully serve her lady alone until her dying breath. She doesn’t know the details, but Shalom’s plan would ultimately undermine both the Underground and Paradeisos. The first thing was undoubtedly a good thing, and you were starting to suspect the second might not be so bad. Apparently, since you hadn’t reported the true nature of Rahu’s attack to your superiors, you were seen as a possible ally, trustworthy enough to be privy to Shalom’s designs – “but if you become a liability, I’ll kill you where you stand,” Rahu added.

You had no intentions of betraying these two, of course, so you accepted the offer so graciously posed to you. Rahu still didn’t look like she was entirely happy with the arrangement, but she was willing to yield to Shalom’s judgment. So it was that you began aiding the two properly; Shalom would give orders to Rahu through their special connection, who would then pass them on to you. Paradeisos didn’t cease their monitoring of the pair, but didn’t seem to be aware that you were no longer serving their interests, which worked out well.

This new arrangement gave you a chance to be closer to Rahu and Shalom, too, and it caused you to notice things you’d never paid attention to before. Rahu was a gruff, scarred soldier, but there was a certain melancholy in her eyes that caused tides of sorrow to swell within your own heart. She protected Shalom, and to an extent, you, so faithfully, but sometimes you couldn’t help but feel as if she was the one who needed a guardian… and every now and again, it seemed as though Shalom filled that role for her, bringing her a much-needed comfort.

Shalom, on the other hand… You started to notice she was not as machine-like as she first appeared. How much of her typical pleasantry was a farce, you didn’t know; that was par for the course with Paradeisians. But what she couldn’t fake was the warm glow in her eyes when her gaze lingered on Rahu, or the way her touches lasted a moment longer than they needed to when she tended to the bodyguard’s cuts and scrapes (and occasionally more serious wounds). Schorl didn’t notice it, perhaps couldn’t notice it, but you did. It almost looked like… love? But that was impossible, wasn’t it? If Rahu and Shalom were in a secret relationship, surely you’d know by now. Surely that was something you could be trusted with? You had to admit, it sounded kind of cute, even if it made your heart twist in an uncomfortable way.

Well, you guessed it wasn’t really any of your business. You tried to put it out of mind…

“Huh?” You were sure you’d misheard Rahu. “You… want me to join your relationship?”

Rahu rolled her eyes, but the effect was largely lost due to the pink flush that ran from her cheeks to her ears. “If you don’t want to, just say so, and we’ll forget this conversation ever happened.”

Of course, you very much did want to join their relationship, and you accepted with a giddy glee that Paradeisos would surely disapprove of. Good thing they’d never know.

Dating Shalom and Rahu was… interesting. Dating Rahu was definitely the easier part, as far as the traditional image of a relationship went – without Schorl’s 24/7 monitoring, you two were able to steal plenty of private moments in locked rooms. Rahu wasn’t much of a talker, so your relationship with her is full of passionate physicality. She kisses you like she’s drowning and you’re her only source of oxygen, and you often have to remind her not to leave marks in places that are hard to hide. You suspect she’s compensating for not being able to touch her other girlfriend, and the marks you do permit her to leave tend to last for days, both silent declarations of devotion and territorial claims to spite Paradeisos, even if they would never know.

Schorl made dating Shalom a whole lot harder than you would’ve liked. You can’t say pretty words of adoration or cuddle and kiss each other without landing you both in scalding water that may very well end with you all three of you killed. So, you have to compensate with more subtle acts of love, such as waking up early to make breakfast in bed for the other instead of one of the maids, or finding excuses to pretty much stay glued to one another for “protection” during missions. It’s not easy, but now that you know how Shalom expresses her love, you are never left in doubt of her feelings.

Despite how difficult the relationship can be at times, you’d never consider breaking up with Shalom and Rahu. You’re overwhelmingly happy, and you hope every day that Shalom’s labor will soon bear its fruits, and you’ll all be free from your yokes – or at the very least, that Paradeisos won’t bring you all crashing back down to earth.

[cece693]

Why? (Stu and Billy x Male Reader)

I couldn't help but write a small insert involving my favorite killer duo—Stu and Billy. I'm not happy with the ending, so I might come back and change it. I just wanted to post something quick.

Summary: M/n Prescott was a straight-A student, popular, good-looking, and kind. So why was he holding a gun and aiming it towards his sister? What was his motive?

Sidney's breath caught in her throat as the chilling click of the gun echoed in the kitchen. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, the sound almost drowning out the sense of impending doom.

"What? Did you really believe you'd make it out alive?" M/n's words sliced through the silence like a jagged knife, their mocking tone a cruel contrast to his previous soothing nature. His eyes, once warm and familiar, now gleamed with a disturbing intensity. Sidney's hands trembled as she felt the cold metal of the gun pressed against her skull, its presence sending shivers down her spine. She couldn't believe it—her sweet brother was a murderer.

"Why?" Sidney couldn't help but ask, her voice trembling with the weight of betrayal and disbelief. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared into M/n's unsettling gaze. "Why are you doing this to me? Why did you kill our friends?" A groan escaped M/n's lips, the sound carrying an eerie mix of boredom and frustration.

"Again with the questions, Sid," M/n sneered. "They were your friends, not mine. Besides, do the majority of serial killers have a reason?"

He watched his sister's expression, almost amused by her attempts to understand the incomprehensible.

"But…" M/n trailed off, his voice taking on a sinister edge, "If you really want a reason for my killing spree, turn around." Sidney's heart raced as she hesitated, the command hanging in the air like a dark omen. Sensing her reluctance, M/n's patience wore thin. With a swift motion, he grabbed his sister and forcibly turned her around, a twisted smirk playing on his lips.

As Stu and Billy entered the kitchen with a knife in hand, the atmosphere grew even more suffocating. M/n's eyes gleamed with a macabre anticipation, relishing in the unfolding chaos. While he would have preferred to finish the job with a gun, he indulged his boyfriend's penchant for theatricality. After all, who was M/n to deny them such pleasure in their twisted game of cat and mouse?

"Surprise! Did you really think it was just M/n on his own?" Stu's voice dripped with mockery as he stepped closer, the knife held menacingly in his hand.

Billy, his expression equally twisted, chimed in, "Yeah, Sid. We've been planning this for a while now." His tone was chillingly casual, as if discussing the weather. "But it doesn't end just there, oh no. We have another surprise for you."

Sidney's heart sank as Billy's words hung heavy in the air, each syllable dripping with malice. Her attempts to break free from M/n's hold grew more frantic, yet his grip remained strong. "You see, Sid," Billy continued, his voice laced with a sickening glee, "there's something else you should know. Something that will make this all the more delicious."

Stu stepped forward, his gaze locked with Billy and M/n's, a silent understanding passing between them. "We're not just partners in crime. We're lovers."

Sidney's heart shattered at the revelation, her mind struggling to comprehend the depth of their betrayal. Billy, her former boyfriend, Stu, her friend, and M/n, her brother, had been conspiring against her all along, their twisted love for each other overshadowing any sense of loyalty or morality.

Stu's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a wicked delight. "Fucking, killing, you name it, Sid. We're a team in every sense of the word."

[morallyinept]

Devoutness - Mature!Marcus Moreno x Mature 60+ F!Reader

Written as part of my B O D I E S Series 🤎

BODIES MASTERLIST

This story is part of my Heyday Hero universe. <- You might want to read that story first for context. But you can read this as a stand alone if you wish.

Summary: Marcus and you embrace the challenges of growing old together and enjoying intimacy.

Pairing: Mature!Marcus Moreno x Mature 60+ F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader in terms of ethnicity, Reader does have hair, however. Reader and Marcus are both in their mid-sixties, I've made Marcus 64 in this, and have real bodies with aging and Reader is on the curvier side.)

Word Count: 7.5k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Triggers & warnings: Reader & Marcus are much older and have real bodies reflective of their age/use of Viagra & sex aids/erectile dysfunction/unprotected PIV (wrap up folks!)/oral M receiving/mild dirty talk/Marcus has superpower hands ⚡️/lots of kissing/schmaltzy romance/Marcus doesn't fuck, he makes love.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: It's important to me that all types of readers are represented in my work, therefore this collection of stories is written for readers with REAL bodies. However, anyone can enjoy them. Whilst this story may not specifically represent your own personal journey, it is my hope that it resonates and offers comfort and enjoyment. This story is specifically about aging and growing old. If it upsets you to read about mature lovemaking, then I don't what to say - you'll be this age yourself one day... Everyone's journey is personal and unique, and I have undertaken as much research as I can to write accurately and respectfully. 🤎

MAIN MASTERLIST | MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

“Are you ready, kiddo?” Marcus asks.

“No,” Missy gulps. 

“You’re not nervous, are you?” 

“Were you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Both times?”

“Yes.” Marcus nods. 

“Jeez.”

“Just breathe-”

“I am breathing. I-I think I’m breathing too much!” She squeaks.

He watches as Missy wrings at her hands that are visibly shaking. He’s never seen her so amped up and antsy before, and he decides instantly that he doesn’t like it. 

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Marcus places his own hands deftly on her shoulders and rubs his thumbs into the bones gently. “You’ve got this.” 

"Dad, I'm so fucking nervous. What if I trip walking down the aisle?"

Marcus frowns with a soft smile. “I won’t let you and your potty mouth trip.”

“What if I forget my vows? Oh God, shit! I can’t remember them!”

"Hey now. Remember the time when you faced the Void Fiend head-on?”

“What does that have to do with-”

“You were brave, strong, and fearless. This? Walking down the aisle to marry the man you love? It's a breeze compared to that."

The Void Fiend was a creature of pure darkness, with tendrils of shadow that twisted and writhed like living smoke. Its eyes glowed with an otherworldly intensity, casting an eerie light that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of reality. And it had temporarily cast Missy into another dimension, until she battled her way out and ended the Void Fiend’s existence with her tenacity and strength. Something she’d inherited from her now retired, ex-Heroic father. 

“I’m missing the Void Fiend right about now…”

“Tranquila, estás exagerando. Tú puedes hacerlo." (Calm down, you’re exaggerating. You’ve got this.)

“I don’t know how you did this twice.” She sighs as she paces, placing her hand over the boned satin corset covering her stomach. “God, I feel sick.”

“Well, I didn’t really have a choice.” Marcus says, timidly. He takes off his glasses, rubbing at his temple.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“I know.” He reassures, and it stops them both in their tracks like a blow to the gut. 

A moment of silence passes between them, filled with unspoken thoughts. Missy’s eyes soften as she looks at her father.

“Look at this, you’ve always been useless at ties,” Missy smirks, fussing with the silk slate knot at her father’s throat. 

“Fingers are too big for something so slippery,” he snorts, casually. 

“That’s what she said.” Missy grins.

“Behave.” Marcus sighs, rolling his eyes. 

“There,” she says, as she tweaks and neatens the tie into place. She pats down the soft lapels of his dark navy suit and steps back to look at him. “I love seeing you so happy.”

Marcus smiles. “I love being so happy. For a while I didn’t think I ever would be again...”

His thoughts immediately drift to you and it makes the blood in his veins sing. Each thought of you ignites a warmth within him, spreading from his chest and radiating outward, as if you're the very sun that has lit his internal world.

“Do you think Mom would be proud of me?”

His expression becomes tender, a deep sadness mingling with his love. “She would be more than proud. She’d be over the moon. You’ve become everything she ever hoped for and more.”

Tears well up in her eyes, and she takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I wish she could be here today. And abuela…” (Grandma) 

He nods, his own eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “They both are. They’re right in there.” He points to his daughter’s heart.

“Dad! I can’t cry, my mascara will run. Shit!” She fans her face quickly. “You promise you won’t let me fall on my face in these ridiculous heels?”

“They are pretty ridiculous.” Marcus smirks, clocking the sky high heels that his daughter totters around uncomfortably in. “But I take my job very seriously. You’ll remain fully upright. Until you say I do, then you’re Sam’s problem.” He chuckles. 

Missy takes a deep breath after giggling, and gathers her bouquet. It’s a stunning arrangement of flowers, each one grown and hand picked from Marcus's cherished garden, adding a deeply personal touch to her special day. Full of sweet smelling blush peonies, white roses and anemones, wrapped with eucalyptus leaves.

“Okay. I can do this.” Missy says aloud. 

He nods, his eyes filled with pride. "Of course you can. You've faced far greater challenges than this, and you've always come out on top. You’re a Moreno. Just remember to take it one step at a time so you don’t break your ankles-”

“Dad.”

“-and focus on the love in your heart. Everything else will fall into place." He simply shrugs. 

“It really will, won’t it?” Missy concludes, looking at him and how intensely happy he is. It just radiates off of him like a solar flare bursting from the sun.

“Sam’s a lucky man.” Marcus says proudly. 

She steps closer to her father, and they embrace, holding each other tightly. The bond between them, forged in love and shared loss, feels stronger than ever.

“Thank you for always being there for me. For being both a father and a mother when I needed it most. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Marcus wraps her in a warm embrace, his arms a safe haven amidst the whirlwind of emotions that try to rattle her.

"You'll always have me, muñeca. Now go out there and show that fiancé of yours just how beautiful you look." (Doll)

“You scrub up pretty well yourself, you silver fox.”

“Stop it.” Marcus blushes unabashedly whilst he straightens his cuffs as Missy wolf-whistles at him. 

His suit jacket is impeccably cut, with sharp, clean lines that accentuate his frame. A neatly folded pocket square, matching the silvery tone of his tie, adorns his breast pocket, its presence a small but significant nod to tradition and style. His cufflinks, sleek and elegant, catch the light with a gentle gleam, completing the sophisticated look.

His suit, complete with waistcoat and a white rose boutonniere, compliments the mercury that’s over taken his once dark, cocoa hair and facial scruff, both now trimmed neatly and styled for the wedding.

His eyes, a deep, soulful brown, still hold a spark of the formidable spirit that once defined him, shrouded often behind his thick, black-rimmed spectacles, that are a trademark feature. They reflect both wisdom and a hint of the mischief that lingers from his younger days. The crow's feet at the corners of his eyes deepen as he smiles, adding to his rugged charm. His body, though no longer in its prime, remains strong and capable, despite his advancing years.

The suit he wears fits him perfectly, tailored to accommodate the changes that time has wrought. His shoulders, still broad and solid, hint at the strength that lies beneath the fine fabric. His waist, though a bit softer around the middle, speaks of a man who has remained active and engaged with the world around him, despite slowing down in his retirement.

His hands, once steady and unyielding in the face of danger, now show the signs of age with slightly knobbled knuckles and veins that stand out against his papery skin.

Sixty-four has never looked so good on Marcus Moreno.

But at this age he feels the weight of time in his bones and muscles, a constant reminder of the years that have passed. Mornings are sometimes the hardest. As he rises from bed with you, his joints protest with a familiar stiffness. His knees, especially, ache with a dull persistence, a result of decades of wear and tear from heroic escapades.

He moves more slowly now, careful with each step, aware that a wrong move could lead to a fall. Yet, despite these physical reminders of aging, he carries himself with a quiet dignity. Marcus has grown accustomed to the small rituals of maintenances that aging requires: daily medications, regular doctors visits, the strength of exercise and stretches to keep his body as agile as possible.

And he's aging gracefully with you right by his side, watching the season's change and embracing them with a smile and contentment. There's a certain peace in accepting the changes brought by age. Appreciating a slower pace.

Life has a different rhythm now, one that allows for gratitude and reflection. He cherishes the stillness of the early morning, sipping coffee with his arm around you and taking in the scents of his garden. More moments to stop and smell the flowers.

He has more time to appreciate the small things. He's not merely growing older; he's becoming more himself with each passing day.

“I mean it, your lovely wife will need to watch her back. Those bridesmaids of mine are feral.”

“Cripes.” Marcus shudders, already feeling himself sweat at the horrid thought. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll keep you upright if you keep those hormonal women away from me.”

Missy giggles. “I can’t promise anything, Dad. One of them has the power of influence. You might be cast under her spell.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.” He groans.

Missy simply taps her nose and grins. With a newfound sense of confidence, she takes a deep breath and grips onto her father’s arm as he offers it out to her.

Marcus smiles down at her from behind his polished spectacles and slicked back hair, and beams brightly. 

“Come on, let’s get you married. You’re such a pain in my ass. Can’t wait to be rid of you.” He says.

“Nope. You’re stuck with me forever. That's the deal. You made me.”

“I should have worn a condom.” Marcus grins. 

“You’re such an ass.” Missy snorts ungracefully, choking on her giggles. 

Sitting in the front row of the aisle lined with garlands of fresh flowers, you stand and watch as Marcus emerges with Missy on his arm, in a modest ivory dress, to a solo violinist’s rendition of All Of Me. 

You clock Marcus’s face and he seems completely entranced and proud as he walks Missy down the aisle to her future husband Sam, who’s waiting and wiping discreetly at his eyes. 

You smile fondly at his reaction, remembering Marcus looking at you just like that on your wedding day to him. It was an intimate and heartfelt affair, celebrated in the same garden where he lovingly tended to the flowers, now featured in his daughter’s wedding bouquet. A place that you had grown to love just as much as him.

The setting was a testament to his life's quieter, nurturing side, a stark contrast to his years of heroic exploits, and you were only too inclined to agree at the lowkey subtlety. It was a place that was special to you both and you both spent a lot of time together basking in the Texan sun, as well as your love.

The retired superhero had stood at the heart-shaped trellis threaded with lilac roses and violet ranunculi - a nod to the purple heart emoji from your early days of flirting and getting to know one another on the dating app - his heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement, and looking at you like you were the only thing that kept his word spinning on its axis. 

Marcus has spent years, decades, alone after losing his first wife shortly after Missy was born. A woman who had been his partner in every sense of the word. Her passing had left a void that seemed impossible to fill, a grief that lingered in the corners of his heart and a guilt that overpowered him when he thought about moving on.

Throwing himself into work and saving the world on the regular, between bringing up a headstrong and smart younger version of him, consumed him. and it was only when retirement beckoned did he realise he didn't want to spend the remainder of his life alone.

So then there was you. You were different and brought a familiarity that felt like home. You'd connected over shared experiences, laughter, your mutual love of flowers and home cooked food, and a heightened passion that sizzled between you both.

Your laughter was like a soothing balm to his weary soul and your kindness, understanding, and your acceptance of his late wife and the love he would always have for her, slowly began to heal the wounds that time had only partially mended.

Your relationship had grown slowly, rooted in deep conversations, mutual respect and compassion. You'd walked Marcus's garden many times, traversing the flower beds, conversing about the different species and plant types. Cuddled up by the pool at golden sunsets, kissing deeply in the loungers, and sharing twilight dinners and wine.

It was in his garden, that you both realised you could love again. And it was where he had proposed to you too. He'd had your ring custom made, a floral stone shape, cut with stunning teal diamonds.

You’d walked towards him on that special day wearing blue - a colour that you both loved on you - radiant and beautiful, every step bringing you closer to your new life shared together. You remember the way Marcus had looked at you as you exchanged vows, his eyes filled with unwavering trust and devotion. Tears making them glisten under his spectacles.

The ceremony had been simple yet profound, promises made in front of a handful of those closest to you, both not seeking an extravagant affair or party into the wild hours. Instead a small gathering and a lovely home cooked meal, which you and Marcus had lovingly prepared together for your family, after you both promised to stand by each other through all of life's challenges.

And as Missy and Sam prepare to exchange similar vows now, Marcus joins you by your side on the pew, his hand slipping into yours where it belongs, and you hand him a tissue.

“Thanks,” he whispers, smiling crookedly and blushing as he dabs at his eyes under his specs once more. “I'm a mess.” He sniffs.

He feels a tear slip down his weathered cheek, not from sadness but from the deep, abiding joy of witnessing his daughter's happiness. 

“She looks so beautiful.” You compliment, filled with adoration for her as if Missy were your own flesh and blood.

She’s become the closest thing to a daughter to you, your relationship with her deepened and special. Sharing girl-dates together on the regular, shopping and having lunch when she’s not saving the world. Teaming up and teasing Marcus to no end until you’re all in a fit of giggles.

You’re so proud of the young woman Marcus has raised.

“She does.” Marcus whispers. 

He turns his head and your eyes find his, big and watery and filled deep with sincerity. “You look absolutely beautiful, mi dulzura.” (My sweetness)

You gently squeeze his hand, feeling warm and more loved than you ever thought possible, as he places a gentle and lingering kiss on top of your head. 

The grand garden is alight with fairy lights underneath a gloaming sky.

The hazy orange glow that emits from the twinkles hovering delicately above this enchanted place leaves you with a sense of warm contentment, despite the gentle nip of the cool breeze as the evening wears on.

It’s an idyllic wonderland, draped in satin and ivy. Over the course of three days it had been transformed into an empyrean view fit for a king himself, and Marcus spared no expense in giving Missy everything she wanted for her big day. 

A vast lawn covered with bunting and a large white gazebo in the grounds of the Edwardian Manor House. Tables lined with crystal glasses, enormous plumes of roses that matched her bouquet.

Marcus was never an extravagant man, always mindful of living a modest life, but he wanted to make this a day Missy and Sam would never forget. His generosity, and smart investment skills over the years, is another trait of his that you love so much. 

The tinkling sounds of music flows through the crowd, like an invisible ribbon wrapping itself around all the guests that litter this decadent soiree. The threads of Heroic connections between them are visible, retired and current heroes in attendance; their radiance, euphoria and harmonies hum through your ears as Marcus twirls you around on the dancefloor.

The atmosphere is a blend of celebration and reverence. There's a sense of continuity, of old and new merging seamlessly. Marcus’s past as a Heroic adds an undercurrent of awe and admiration among the guests, but tonight, he’s celebrated for his role as a loving father and husband. 

The world around you seems to fade, leaving just the two of you bathed in the soft, golden glow of the twinkling lights. The band is in the middle of a slow, melodic tune, the kind that speaks of timeless romance and unspoken promises.

Marcus takes your hand with a gentle, yet confident grip, his fingers intertwining with yours as if they were always meant to fit together. You feel the familiar, crackly buzzing from his fingertips, reverberating deep into your skin and down your arm, igniting you, and he winks at you knowingly. 

He leads with a grace that hints at his once superhuman agility, his steps sure and deliberate. As you waltz across the floor, your eyes lock, a silent exchange that speaks volumes. Your eyes sparkle with a mixture of joy and affection, while his reflects a depth of gratitude and love that words can never fully capture.

You both share a secret smile, the kind that only two people deeply in love can understand, and it feels as if you’re the only ones in the world.

A palpable chemistry fizzes between you, helped by the static in his fingers that he teases you with, a testament to the deep bond and joy you bring each other. The music swells, a building crescendo, his hand gently guiding yours. At one point, he twirls you gently, your dress fanning out fully, and as you return to his embrace, you both chuckle, your foreheads touching for a brief, tender moment.

There's a playfulness in your dance, a sense of rediscovered youth, as if the years between you have melted away, leaving only the pure essence of your connection.

“Have you always been this smooth a dancer?” You query as he sways with you.

“I might know how to cut a rug.” Marcus smirks. 

“I’m still discovering all these wonderful secret talents about you, Mr Moreno.”

“Well, I like to keep you on your toes, Mrs Moreno.” He smirks with rosy cheeks.

As the song progresses, you pull each other closer, moving as one entity, lost in each other’s eyes. His hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you effortlessly, while your hand caresses his broad shoulder.

"You make me feel young again," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You make me feel safe," you reply with a smile. He loves the way your eyes crinkle when you do. “And so loved.”

“That’s because you are, mi dulzura.” He presses a kiss to your temple. (My sweetness)

"Look at her," you say softly, glancing toward Missy, who is radiant in her wedding dress, and laughing with others at a table. "She's so happy."

His eyes follow yours, and he nods, a proud smile spreading across his face.

"She deserves all the happiness in the world. She's incredible, just like her mother was..." He trails off and his eyes become a little deeper.

"She's incredible, just like her father is," you add gently, squeezing his shoulder.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "I don't know about that. I always tried my best. But I'm so proud of her. She's taken on so much, and she handles it all with such grace."

"She has a great role model," your voice is filled with warmth and admiration."You should dance with her," you suggest with soft encouragement.

Marcus hesitates for a moment, glancing at his daughter, who is laughing joyously with her new husband and their friends.

"Do you think she'd want that? It's her big day."

"Of course she would," you reply, your fingers brushing his cheek tenderly. "She loves you so much. This is a special moment for both of you."

He looks into your eyes, seeing the sincerity and love reflected there. "You're right," he says, his voice a little shaky with emotion. "I just... I don't want to intrude."

"You could never intrude. Go to her," you urge with a warm smile. "I'll be right here, cheering you both on."

Marcus takes a deep breath, then leans in to kiss you gently. "Thank you. For everything. You’re incredible."

"You're pretty incredible yourself." You smile back, your eyes shining. "Go on. Make this moment unforgettable."

He releases your hand reluctantly and makes his way across the dancefloor, each step filled with a mix of pride and nervous anticipation.

As Marcus approaches his daughter, she looks up, her eyes lighting up when she sees him.

"Dad," Missy says, her voice filling with delight. "Come dance with me!"

He nods, his heart swelling. "I'd be honoured."

The band begins to play another soft, melodic tune that echoes through the sumptuous garden.

“You took your shoes off,” Marcus chuckles, noticing her bare toes peeking out under the satin hem of her dress.

“I did. Let us never speak of those evil things again.”

“You know, I used to dance with you when you were little.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. You’d stand on my feet and let me move you about. You said you were no good at dancing and would pout. It was so cute.”

“And I stand by that fact.” Missy announces. 

“Nonsense.” He smiles. 

“And I’m always cute, for the record.” She grins. “Can I stand on your feet now?”

“Go for it.” He smiles.

She steps onto his polished shoes and he holds her close in his arms as he moves, his chin resting on her head and smiles. 

"You look so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad," she replies, her eyes misting. "I'm so glad you're here with me. I know Mom would be," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the music.

"I am too," he replies, his grip on her tightening slightly. "I see so much of her in you. She would be so proud of the woman you've become."

She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I hope so."

“I know so, muñeca.” (Doll)

“But you’ve got a wonderful woman who loves you just as much. Maybe even more.” Missy says to him. 

“I do,” he smiles over at you and you beam. You’re recording them dancing together on your phone, something for him to keep forever. 

“I’m still pissed that you found your one on a dating app you didn’t want to join for so long…” Missy snorts. 

“And after only one date too. What is it the kids say now, I’m winning at life?” He chuckles. 

“Yeah. You are. You smug bastard.”

“Easy now,” Marcus remarks with a thick smirk.

As the song draws to a close, Marcus pulls her into a warm embrace, holding her tightly. "I love you. Always."

"I love you too, Dad," she whispers back, her voice full of emotion.

They part with a final smile, and he steps back to let her return to her husband. As he makes his way back to you, you’re waiting for him with open arms.

"How was it?" You ask, pulling him into a hug.

“Perfect. Thank you for encouraging me.” Marcus beams.

"Anytime," you say, kissing him softly.

“Come on, dance with me some more, Mrs Moreno.” He says, pulling you gently towards the dancefloor again. 

Later that evening, after calling it quits on the late night as it shows no sign of dying down, you and Marcus ascend the grand staircase in the Manor House, a structure with an old-world charm blended with modern comforts.

The lobby is adorned with elegant chandeliers and plush seating, exuding a sense of timeless sophistication. Still glowing from the day's festivities, you make your way to your suite, hand in hand and talking softly with smiles and giggly laughter.

As you open the door to your room, you’re greeted by an inviting, romantic ambiance. The room is spacious yet cosy, with a large queen four poster, draped in crisp white linens and silky drapes. A pair of plush armchairs sit by the window, offering a breathtaking view of the city lights twinkling in the night.

A bottle of champagne chills in a silver bucket, accompanied by two flutes and a tray of gourmet chocolates.

You look around in awe, taking in the thoughtful details. "This is perfect," you murmur, your voice filled with contentment.

“Should be, we’ve paid for it,” Marcus chuckles, loosening his tie. 

You smile, stepping further into the room and slipping off your heels. "It's beautiful. Just like tonight."

You move to the window, admiring the view over Austin in the distance for a moment, before you feel him wrapping his arms around you from behind, pulling you in close. You lean into his embrace, feeling the warmth and strength that has always been so comforting.

Despite the buzz of the day, your bodies remind you both of the years you've lived. His back aches slightly from standing and dancing for so long, a dull reminder of his age and the years of unrelenting vigour from his past Heroic life. Your feet are sore, throbbing from your heels, and you feel a familiar stiffness in your joints.

“This night couldn’t be any more perfect,” you sigh dreamily, enjoying the way Marcus is planting delicate kisses against your neck and murmuring in agreement.  

“I may have had a thought on topping it.”

“Oh really? Do tell, Mr Moreno…” You prompt, smiling.

He turns you to face him and kisses you deeply, humming in satisfaction as his tongue massages against yours. Gentle and explorative, and leaves you utterly wanting.

“Thought that I would make love to my beautiful wife.” Marcus kisses over your knuckles one by one, planting a longer kiss over your wedding band. 

“I’ve been thinking about that all night.”

“You have?” He smiles.

“Mm-hm, it’s the suit.” You smile, running your hands down his lapels. “You look so handsome and sexy.”

He blushes and it’s still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, watching his prominent tan nose and the tips of his ears turn a little pink. 

“You want to?” He asks and you nod. “Good, I came prepared.”

“I would expect no less from Mr Organised.” 

Grinning, he then steps away from you and rummages in the overnight bag that has already been brought up to the room by the concierge. 

You watch as he pulls out a small box and pops a little blue pill into his palm. He winks at you from behind his specs as he swallows it, and you reach for him. Your lips reconnect as you kiss him deep. 

The warmth of his lips running against yours, the familiar scent of him, and the deep, unwavering love in his eyes, combine to create a sensation that’s almost overwhelming and makes you dizzy with desire.

Your knees feel slightly weak, and you cling to him a little tighter, grounding yourself in his steady embrace. The giddy sensation is both disorienting and beautiful, a physical manifestation of the profound connection you share and the intensity of the moment.

When you finally part, he leads you to the small table where the champagne awaits. He pops the cork with a practised ease, pouring you each a glass.

"To how incredibly beautiful you look," Marcus toasts, raising his flute.

You smile, feeling your own face heat, clinking your glass against his.

You sip the champagne, savouring the bubbles and the moment. But he can’t resist much longer, waiting for the pill to work its magic, and neither can you as he pulls you into his arms once more.

The skin of his hands is marked by age spots and the veins more prominent, but his touch is as tender as ever. You feel the pleasant buzz from them sinking into your skin and travelling through your nerves. It makes you shudder, your nipples rousing awake as he glides his fingers down your arms.

"I can't believe how lucky I am," Marcus whispers, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back where your dress reveals a slink of skin. It's softer there now, a bit looser, but still so familiar and comforting.

"We both are." You agree. 

You both murmur and hum into more shared kisses, each one lasting a little longer and conveying your longing for one another. 

“Mmm, that’s nice,” you say as he nibbles gently on your lip and then licks over it.

“Really nice.” Marcus says, pulling you in closer. 

You giggle after a few moments. “My lipstick is all over you,” you smile, wiping his lips with your fingers. 

“I don’t care,” he smirks. “You can cover me in it, as long as I get more kisses.”

You giggle more as he rubs his lips against yours deliberately.

“Does it suit me, is it my colour?” He asks, grinning. 

“Yes, velvet pink is your colour, Marcus.” You titter.

“Well, blue is certainly yours, this dress is just so… stunning. I like how it just-” He loses the words as his eyes roam all over you. “I like how it just kind of shows all of you.”

“Yeah?” The dress is flattering, hugging your curves in all the right places and just revealing the subtlest amount of flesh, mostly down your back.

“Yeah… God, I want to peel you out of it so slowly. I want to enjoy the view.”

He kisses across your collarbone as you unbutton his waistcoat.

“I’m just gonna take my jacket off, set it over there…” he tosses it across the room and it misses the chair as he locks onto your lips. “You look so good in blue.” Marcus compliments. “Almost don’t want to take it off.”

“Then you won’t see what I’ve got on underneath it,” you tease. 

He makes a noise similar to a hungry bear, and you giggle as you reach for the zip under your arm and pull it down. 

“Fuck…” he sighs as you slip the dress off to reveal a matching lace set in midnight blue. “So gorgeous,” he smiles, pulling you in for another deep kiss. 

“You like it?”

“I love it…” He says, as his fingers trace the strap down from your shoulder, over the delicate cup, and he squeezes gently around your breast. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You both chuckle as he walks you backwards towards the bed as you push his waistcoat off. You pull on his tie, bringing him closer so you can taste his lips again. 

Sinking into its plush comfort, Marcus climbs over you. The soft lighting casts a warm glow, creating an intimate, serene atmosphere. He kicks off his shoes as you loop his tie out from under the collar and toss it to the floor.

“See what kissing you does to me,” you whisper, guiding his hand down between your legs, and he groans when feels how warm and damp it is there. 

“Quiero que te sientas muy bien…” (I want to make you feel really good) He whispers back.

“You always make me feel so good, Marcus.” You assure.

He smiles crookedly as you reach for his crotch.

“How you doing, big guy?” You say, stroking over the soft bulge in his slacks, and he sighs into your mouth. 

“Almost,” he pants. “Keep doing that… feels really good.” His cock although still a little flaccid, is swelling. But the Viagra needs a little helping hand to get him there.

“Do you want my mouth?”

“Oh God, yeah.” He groans and you’ve never seen a man unzip his pants so fast. 

He watches you pull out a small bottle of lube from the overnight bag. You squirt a little of it into your hands, rub them together and then slide them around his cock. He immediately groans out as you do so. 

“That feel good?” You whisper, nipping on his lobe. 

“Mmm… so good.”

A swollen, pale pink tip, and grey, wiry hairs that are trimmed almost to sparsity around his thick, heavy balls, greet you as you stroke and pump. Marcus has always harboured a generous sized manhood between his thighs, and aging certainly hasn't denied him of that as the throbbing length of him feels so good in your hands.

You grip a little tighter, making him work as he pushes his hips into your fist, almost like he’s fucking it.

“Oh wow!” He grunts. 

You kiss over his belly, down into his thighs and then take him in your mouth, cock swollen and hardening fully around your tongue as you suck on him. He tastes good, he’s always tasted so damn good. 

He repeatedly gathers your hair up, stylishly streaked with it's own grey, but it falls out of his grip, continually obscuring his view. He swipes it into a ragged, messy pony between his fingers in time to see you let your saliva dangle from your mouth and drip onto his head. 

“Fuck…” he whines, as you sink his cock back into your mouth. It’s rock solid now, throbbing against your tongue. “God, I fucking want you…” He grunts with those delicious expletives tumbling out of him in that way when he gets all worked up.

“Want you inside me, Marcus.” You moan into his mouth. 

He pulls down the cup of your bra and sucks your nipple into his mouth, and you both groan out in delight. 

“How do you want me?” He asks, removing his shirt fully.

“Lay with me, beside me so I can kiss you.” You pant, unclipping your bra and removing your panties.

Once you’re both fully naked, he shuffles up behind you, taking your leg and folding it over his arm. He kisses you, tongue slipping into your mouth as you reach down and guide his thickness against your folds.

"Wait, do you-"

“I don’t need any lube, you’ve got me so wet, Marcus…” You pant as you swipe him against you, up and down, covering him in your slick. 

You hear him growl in your ear as he pushes in, slipping through into you with ease.

“Just slides right in.” He agrees. “Fuck! You feel so good. So wet for me.”

The lewd sounds of his cock coated in your slick provides the background noise to your mutual pants and whines as he pushes in and out.

“Damn, this is such a beautiful pussy. Oh God.”

“Yours.”

“Mine.” He pants.

He kisses your knee, your cheek, your breast, your mouth - all within easy reach as his hips push back and forth, his cock sinking deeper into you with each gentle thrust. 

“Oh, you feel so good,” he whines. 

“Mmm, Marcus.” 

“You can feel me, hmm? Right here?” He places his large palm flat on your lower abdomen and presses down a little and you groan. 

“Right there!” You sigh, smiling. 

You gasp as his fingers slip down onto your clit, circling around and around as he kisses you again. You feel that delicious buzzing on it from his fingers and you shudder and grin into him. 

“I love that so much.”

“I know you do,” he smirks. You whine when he does it again. Little flares of electricity pulsing through you.  

He’s pressed flush against you, balls deep into your cunt, and rubbing your clit. Gentle, rhythmic strokes and you kiss around his lips and neatly trimmed beard. He nuzzles his nose across yours, smiling deeply into you. 

“Marcus… feels so good. Don’t stop…” You pant. He can feel you squeezing already; your breath more ragged as it pelts him in the face.

“Come for me,” he coos, as you grip onto his wrist; your thighs shaking as your clit pulls tighter under his buzzy ministrations. “Look at you, so beautiful. Come for me.”

He delves deeper, pushing that thick cock as far as it’ll go in this position - his crackly fingers gliding across your clit faster as you mewl and whine. You buck and push back, your body shaking and tensing. Your gasps reach higher pitches as you feel it rising within you. 

“So beautiful when you come for me. Tan hermoso... Quiero sentirlo. Quiero sentirte venir para mí. Ven toda sobre mí…” (So beautiful... I want to feel it. I want to feel you come for me. Come completely over me.) 

And that does it; the hushed whispers of the Spanish dirty talk flooding warm in your ear ignites the spark that crackles down your spine and floods in your core. 

“Así es, joder, te sientes tan bien alrededor de mi verga.” (That's right, shit, you feel so good around my cock)

“Oh fuck, Marcus, the way you speak like that-”

“I know, why do you think I do it?” He grins into your cheek, his tongue licking against it. “Porque sé que te gusta y te pone tan húmeda para mí. No puedes evitarlo, ¿verdad?, cuando hablo tan sucio así, ¿hmm?” (Because I know you like it and it makes you so wet for me. You can't help it, right, when I talk dirty like that, hmm?)

You nod, smiling and heated. “Sí, sí, sí…” (Yes, yes, yes)

He continues to slide in and out of your pussy, making you groan with each measured thrust.

“Let me ride you,” you say, sucking on his bottom lip.

“You won’t get no protest from me,” he grins. 

You straddle him, feeling him fill you full of him again as you sink down, all the way down on him. 

“Oh God,” he whines. “Thats it, that’s it… fuck. Fuck yes!”

“Marcus!”

“Feel good like that? Taking my cock so deep, mi dulzura… Oh shit!” He pants as you ride him harder. “That’s it, take it, take it, take it… It’s all yours. I’m all yours.” (My sweetness)

He likes watching you as you ride him, moving that bit faster, winding your hips more intensely as you draw closer to your peak. He likes to kiss you and suck your nipples as you work.

You watch him lick his thumb and press it against your clit, nodding and smiling at you to come for him, almost begging he wants it so bad - wants you so bad. You cry out as those crackles flood your core, making you clench and writhe.

He’s floored, watching as you glow riding on his cock like this. Unable to form words, you’re so beautiful. The fact he can still make you feel like this, even when his body can’t or won’t cooperate, stuns him. 

“F-Fuck…” Marcus can only stammer on a barely there whisper as you lean in to kiss him some more, feeling your pussy contract and rib around him as you come undone. 

You collapse gently on top of him, and he wraps his hands around your waist.

More often than not, he can't finish, especially with the Viagra. Just keeping him stiff and for your pleasure, which he’s more than happy with and to indulge in. “Just want to feel you come, mi dulzura.” (My sweetness)

Every time you come around him, he feels it, sees the joy and bliss in your eyes, hears the mewls and pants into the pillow, dusted over his lips. He’ll give you this, all of him as long as he can. As long as he’s able.

The mind is willing, but sometimes… sometimes the body can’t quite keep up anymore.

You’d both talked about it the first time it happened. The first time he lost his erection and couldn’t finish. He was so embarrassed, on the verge of tears and feeling like he'd let you down. But your reassurances and love, peppered with longing kisses, convinced him it was nothing to worry about. So he didn’t.

And he did the same for you, when you struggled to get wet sometimes. It wasn’t that he didn’t turn you on, because he sure as hell did. He still does every time you look at him - he takes your breath away.

But sometimes your body doesn’t want to play ball too, and you’ve both discovered ways to still enjoy sex together with some helpful aids such as toys, lubricant, some blue pills, but most of all, patience.

Switching up positions when you both tire easily and your joints won’t meld you into adventurous positions anymore. Spending time kissing and fawning over one another. Just being in his arms is more than enough.

You both enjoy pulling pleasure out of one another with no hurried pace or shame about how your bodies have changed, and continue to change. Your breasts have stretch marks and hang lower now, the skin under your arms flaps about a bit more - your own tummy is crinkled with wrinkly skin. And yet he always makes you feel beautiful when you’re naked in his arms.

His cock struggles to get hard without assistance now, his balls hang lower and the skin around his own waist and back is looser too. But you still desire him, you still love every single inch of him. 

You’re growing old together; something that both of you are lucky to experience and embrace wholly, together.  

Marcus whimpers, ragged little cries escaping his throat as you come around him. Your pussy is tightening and feeling so good that he can barely contain himself. And he’s so beautiful to you now just as he was when you first met him in that restaurant on your first date together. 

He still has that golden tanned skin from tending to his garden lovingly in the hot sun. Painted with some paler lines across his stomach and pubic bone where the sun doesn’t reach. The little sag of his belly from gaining a bit of weight now that he's not working out every day. A head of silver hair, almost snowy white entirely, replaces his dark curls. Liver spots and wrinkles appear in places they weren’t before.

Now in his mid-sixties, Marcus carries the weight of his years with a distinguished grace that speaks of a life well-lived and battles hard-fought.

Despite his enduring strength, age has brought with it a touch of forgetfulness too. He might occasionally misplace his glasses, only to find them perched atop his head after a thorough search. His keys sometimes elude him, turning up in the most unexpected places, like the refrigerator shelf or the bathroom sink.

These small lapses are met with laughter and gentle teasing from you, and you always help him find his missing items with a patient smile. One morning recently at breakfast, he hesitated, trying to remember if he’d taken his morning vitamins. But you, ever attentive, nudged the pill bottle toward him with a knowing smile.

"You didn't take them yet," you said, your voice filled with affection.

"Thanks," he replied, a bit sheepishly. "What would I do without you?"

"You'd manage," you’d teased, "but it wouldn't be nearly as much fun."

These moments, far from diminishing him, add to his character, painting a picture of a man who has lived fully and continues to do so with grace and humility. His forgetfulness becomes a part of your shared experiences, something that brings you closer and provides moments of light-hearted humour and tender connection.

“Oh fuck, you look good on top like this, so good on top… like that, that’s it. Oh God, use me. Keep doing that…” He’s drawn back to you, to this moment where you garner some more strength to keep going.

“Marcus!” You cry as you grind a little harder. 

“I just wanna hold you right here…” He pulls your forward and keeps you in place, crushed against his chest as he thrusts up into you. “God, you’re so hot, I can’t get enough of you!” He pants.

“Oh fuck, Marcus! I’m gonna come again!” 

“Yes, come, come, come, come…” He chants in your ear. 

You wriggle and squirm in the throes of your pleasure. He grips onto you tighter and pushes himself deeper into you. 

“Marcus!” You call out, your eyes rolling back. 

Gripping onto his shoulders, he almost roars as you come again, body tensing and sweat pouring off of him. You can hear him wheezing in the back of his throat as you shake and tense above him.

Then, a small whimper rolls off his tongue as he strokes your back, hearts thudding against one another. 

He taps over his heart. “Oh shit, it’s beating like crazy.”

“You okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” He chuckles breathlessly.

“Don’t wanna give you a heart attack.” You smirk.

“No, no, no. I’m good, really good. Although, it'd be a good way to go.”

“I don’t know CPR.” You muse. 

“I know the hymen-lick manoeuvre.” He waits for a second, before you burst out laughing. 

“That was terrible!” You cackle at his stupid joke. 

“You laughed, it counts.”

You hear him giggle, and then you giggle too as he looks at you with deep, brown eyes. 

“Not bad for an old guy, hmm?” Marcus smiles, nuzzling into you. 

“Not bad at all.” You agree, planting your lips on his. 

“I love you. Te quiero.” (I love you)

“Te quiero mucho.” You reply, kissing the tip of his nose. (I love you so much)

You lay there together for a while, cuddled up to him and savouring the tender, peacefulness between you.

“You wanna go again? I’m still hard. Will stay like that for a few hours…” Marcus grins. 

You snort, laughing into his lips. “Are you trying to finish me off?” 

He nods. “I’m banking on the life insurance policy. This wedding has cost me a fortune. I need to top up.”

“You’ll be lucky. Christ, I can only imagine what it would say on my death certificate.”

“Fucked to death.” He chuckles, pulling you against his chest, and you can’t help but laugh with him. 

"You silly man." You smirk, planting a kiss into his neck.

The following morning, you both spend time together in the elegant bathtub, washing and caressing one another in the fragrant soapy bubbles.

You lay in his lap as he strokes you gently to a soft orgasm with wet fingers, and tells you how much he loves you. You take your time with him, stroking his cock in your foamy hand until he eventually bursts, spilling warm and pearly over your grip, shaking and panting into your mouth.

You smile, watching Marcus pull on a soft sweater, and then you both laugh as he realises, whilst putting his suit in the suit bag, that he’s put it on backwards. 

Once dressed and packed, you both head down for breakfast in the Manor House’s elegant dining room. The room is bathed in warm morning light, with large windows offering a stunning view of the lush gardens outside.

The table is set with fine china and an array of delicious breakfast options, from fresh fruit and pastries, to a variety of hot dishes on offer and cooked to order.

Marcus pours out fresh coffee and you pick Marcus a fruit bowl whilst you wait for Missy and Sam to join you both as previously arranged.

You feed pieces of melon into Marcus’s mouth. He eyes you suggestively as he sucks your fingers free of the syrup. 

“Mmm,” he murmurs with a wink behind his dark-rimmed specs as he leans in to plant a sugary-sweet smooch on your lips.

"You two are worse than teenagers," Missy teases, a playful glint in her eyes. "How do you still act like this in your sixties?"

Marcus grins and squeezes your hand. "Love only gets better with age, muñeca." (Doll)

You smile softly, leaning into his shoulder. "We've had plenty of practice," you add, your eyes twinkling. "Besides, we're just setting a good example for you two."

Sam raises his coffee cup in a toast. "Well, if we end up half as in love as you two when we're your age, we'll consider ourselves very lucky."

Missy smiles warmly, looking at you both with a mixture of admiration and amusement. "Alright, alright, I get it. Love doesn’t have an expiration date. But still, maybe keep the lewd PDA to a minimum while we eat?"

Marcus laughs, his eyes glimmering with joy and pats your thigh affectionately. "No promises, but we'll try to behave.” He looks at you, with a cheeky glint in his eye. “For now..."

I really hope you enjoyed reading this story with Marcus, and welcome your comments/thoughts. I'd appreciate a re-blog if you liked it so others can find it on their dash to read and enjoy too - thank you very much! 🖤

BODIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST

[potentialsandwhich]

Fucking the Enemy Part 3

[Pairing: Bottom!Natasha Romanoff x Top!Reader ] (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

->Villain!Reader

AN: I am nothing, if not a whore for Nat. That is all. Thank you.

Summary: She had to get the information out of you. The only question is, what is she willing to do to achieve that goal?

Warnings: 18+, Smut, porn with no plot, strap on, restraints (e.g ropes), sex in exchange for information, daddy kink (let me know if I need to add more)

You had known the Avengers were growing desperate.

"Fuck! She won't tell us anything!"

But you really hadn't expected them to cave in this fast.

"Let me speak with her, Steve."

It must've been your lucky day.

"Only if you let me come with you."

"No, it would be better if it was just me and her. Clear out and let me do my work."

Yeah, it was definitely your lucky day.

"Just don't jump her bone this time, Romanoff."

You tried your best to school your features away from the smirk that threatened the corners of your lips.

"Hello, Agent." You purred as your favorite Avenger opened the door to the interrogation room.

Natasha didn't answer, only glowering over at you in silence.

"It's been a while since we last talked, hasn't it?" You continued anyways, already well acquainted with the Russian's silent treatment by now, "Though, I suppose talk wouldn't be the right word for what we did." You could almost feel the phantom sting of biting nails along your back again, and you let your gaze trailed blatantly down the redhead's form, "Finally came back for more?"

Natasha's eyes burned into you with dark intensity that threatened you with a slow death.

"Fuck off with the games, (Y/N)," She snapped, sharp and abrupt, clear in her impatience, "You're going to start talking, now."

You knew exactly what she wanted, of course: information. Some idiot had planted bombs around New York City and SHIELD needed intel on where they were.

Furrowing your brows, however, you only stared back in mock confusion, "Sorry, but isn't that what we're doing right now? Talking?"

Natasha's arms crossed into a mix of mild annoyance and stern determination as she approached towards you.

Stopping at the table in front, she planted two hands onto the surface, leaning across to glare down at you, "Stop playing dumb. The bombs. Start talking now." She reiterated. There was a silent warning in her tone that challenged you to defy her, and though you could tell she had no weapon on her immediate personnel, you also knew she, herself, was the deadliest weapon in her own right.

Yet, you couldn't help yourself, "And what if I don't?" You baited, sending her a look of indifference that you knew would annoy her.

She was fast.

One second she was a table and then some away from you, the next she was right next to you, fisting a ball of the front of your shirt and pulling you threatingly towards her. The rope binding you to the chair you sat in bit into your skin as your arms lifted against them, "Don't test me, (L/N)." Her face was close, and because of the position she had over you, you were forced to crane your neck up from your restraints to meet her gaze, "I can and I will make you talk."

Her hair shadowed much of her features, hiding them, giving her green eyes an eerie glow that seemed to pierce right through you.

You swallowed hard, discreetly so that she wouldn't notice.

She did anyways.

Reluctantly breaking her gaze, you pulled back from the redhead as best you could, her hold on you iron tight and unrelenting, "You know, I've never been one to enjoy being constrained..." You complained, jostling your restraints lightly to emphasize your point. You ignored the scorching red burns that had already begun to form around your wrists from the rough threads of the rope, "And I don't particularly like being the one in the disadvantage either..." Natasha listened without so much as a flicker of emotion, just a silent demand for you to get to the point.

Glancing down at the ropes currently tying you, you eyed the knots for a breath. Then, moving your gaze back up, you leaned back towards Natasha, getting up into her space like she had done to you just moments before, "But I must say, Tasha," The utterance of such affectionate name elicited just the tinniest peek of surprise from the redhead, "Things are just different with you." Faint confusion flickered behind steely green eyes, "And I would be lying right now if I were to say that I don't find this whole bad cop thing you're doing extremely hot."

The immediate tightening of Natasha's jaw and the utter disbelief that overtook her face had you biting back another smirk, "Tell me what you know." She ordered again, barely containing her frustration now.

Scrunching your nose in distaste, you simply shook your head, "Mmmm, no thanks."

The redhead scoffed and you watched as she let her ill-fated attempt at intimidation slip away to anger, "You're utterly ridiculous!" She dryly exclaimed, shaking her head, "There are bombs out there and you are too busy playing childish games!"

You shrugged without an ounce of care, "Well that's not really my problem though, now is it?" The withering glare the question earned you was threateningly ominous.

"New York City is your home."

Humming, you shrugged off her argument, "I can always find a new one. Crime is a mobile occupation."

The grip on your shirt tightened, "Not if I put you in jail first. Why won't you tell me what you know?!"

You couldn't help the laughs that escaped you, one at her suggestion that she could ever catch you, and another at her painfully stupid question, "Because that's not what I do! I'm one of the bad guys, if you don't remember, Tasha. When have I ever done something unincentivized? That's kind of the whole shtick."

Natasha's eyes flashed in pure frustration and you leaned back in anticipation at what was sure to be her impending explosion, deriving great pleasure in seeing the usually so well composed Black Widow worked up and angry, especially from your own doing. But then, an inexplicable calm took over.

Her jaw slowly loosened up and suddenly Natasha was leaning back from you.

"Okay, so what is it?"

The question was met with silence.

You quirked a brow up, not following.

Natasha searched your face and you returned the favor - two distrusting souls trying to read the other's intention, "What is it you want?" She clarified, pressing her lips into a thin line, "You said that you don't ever do anything unincentivized, so what I'm asking is what do you want for your intel." Slow understanding trickled in. You straightened your back in interest and the redhead noted the change, doubling down her efforts, "What is it you want, (L/N)? Money? Leniency? P-"

"You?"

Whatever Natasha had been planning to say next was lost in her shock, "What?"

You leaned forward as far as you could, closing the space she had placed between you, ignoring the ropes digging into your skin again, "I said, you." You didn't miss the way Natasha suddenly seemed uncertain and had to hide away the satisfaction of knowing that the power had shifted back to your court, "You asked me what I wanted, Tasha. What if I just want you?"

The question hung in the air.

You were kidding about your request - simply mocking the Russian for what she was suggesting: that you could be so easily swayed with empty promises and bribery.

You had expected her to say no.

But to your surprise, Natasha didn't. Instead, she suddenly moved closer, closer than even before.

Slotting a knee between your thighs, the redhead used the leverage of the chair to help her up until she was all but atop you. Her hands moved to cup your face and lift your gaze up, and you felt a shiver run through at the sudden contact.

Soft red hair cascaded over leather cladded shoulders, strands falling past to tickle your cheeks as they swayed in the air. The sudden heat of Natasha body pressed against yours was a startle change to the otherwise cold room.

You swallowed hard at the unexpected action. This time for real. "What are you-"

"Then you can have me."

Her proclamation, spoken in a low, seductive voice, sent an inexplicable streak of arousal through you, right down to your core.

Without being able to stop it, your breath hitched in surprise.

"Huh?"

It was your turn to be shocked now, your single word answer more than evidence enough of how caught off guard you were.

Running a thumb across your bottom lip, Natasha's gently pressed the tip into your mouth, just enough so that she could lightly graze your teeth with her nail, "I said, then.you.can.have.me." She clicked in the same mocking tone you had used on her.

Narrowing your eyes, you stared up at her, a mix of surprise and suspicion interlacing in your gaze, "Are you teasing me right now, Romanoff?" You accused, unsure of how you wanted her to answer.

A small smirk played on the corners of invitingly red lips, "I'm quite serious with my offer, (L/N), if you're serious about yours."

The roaring in your ears overtook your senses, "Is that right?"

Dull, blunt nails dug into your skin in challenge, "Me in exchange for information on the bomb, do we have a deal?"

Meeting Natasha's gaze with lidded eyes, you allowed yourself just a second of ponderance - a flicker of hesitation to save some face and hide your eagerness - but even all of that was in vain, the answer to her question having already been long decided the second it was asked.

"We have a deal."

The moment your lips met Natasha's, all the thoughts in your head went blank.

Maneuvering her body, the redhead pressed into you, pushing the two of you both back - chair and all - away from the table. With the newfound space, she quickly moved to saddle your lap, grinding down hard into you.

And if there was any ounce of self respect you still had left - between the fiery attack of Natasha's lips and the slow rolling of her hips against you - it was gone the second she moaned into the kiss, having just discovered the strap you had been wearing.

Matching her movements, you pressed back into the Russian, making sure she could feel the entire length of the toy.

You felt her physically shiver in anticipation above you.

"Fuck."

Hearing the neediness in that singular word, you were suddenly reminded how restricted your movements still were.

"Natasha." You tried, attempting to draw the redhead's attention to your bounded state.

"Mmm?" She hummed, lost in her own bliss as she continued grinding down, searching for the friction she so needed.

You almost lost your own train of thought, mesmerized by the way she was moving. God, the things this woman does to you.

"Unbind me?" You were able to manage out, your desire to fuck the Russian your way overcoming the competing desire to just watch how desperate and needy she could get by herself.

Half lidded, green eyes met yours, and with just one glance you already knew what she was going to say.

"And why would I do that?"

Pulling away from you, a truly evil smirk spread itself across Natasha's face. And you silently wondered if this was revenge for the similar situation that had happened before.

Keeping unwavering eye contact with you, Natasha began to undress, every inch of exposed skin slowly revealing itself to you. All you could think about was how pretty they’d look if they were covered in your marks instead.

When all that was left was her bra and underwear, the redhead returned closer. Treading her fingers gently through your hair, she tugged harshly with a force that surprised you, the movement jerking and forcing your head up to meet her gaze above you.

"No, I think I like you better like this." She whispered, kissing you with a dominance worthy of her title. "All mine to use."

The presence of her other hand travelling down to the band of your pants suddenly became prominent. You stilled yourself as she got closer to your lower abdomen. Holding just a beat, she lingered, as if daring you to stop her, then without any more hesitation, her hand dipped into your pants and pulled out your strap.

You saw her silent shock at the size as she took it in.

"What's wrong, worried you can't take it?" You mocked, trying to regain control in the situation.

Challenged filled eyes snapped back up to yours, and you knew she was going to make you regret your words, "Watch me."

Her simple response had you barely holding back a groan.

Unable to touch her, you could only watch as the Russian positioned herself over you, shoving her underwear desperately to the side as she aligned herself to your strap.

As Natasha sank down, her moans filling the room at being stretched out, you couldn't do anything but watch with appreciation as each inch disappeared inside her. When she had finally taken it all in, her breathing was ragged and heavy.

"Shit," She cursed in pleasure, "That was a lot more than I had thought." Picking up her hips, she attempted to moved slowly, trying to adjust to the size.

Your eyes found itself entranced to the place where Natasha and you connected, each time the Russian sank down even more arousing than the last. As pleasure finally overcame pain, the speed at which the redhead moved increased until she was shamelessly riding you, each bounce hitting deeper and deeper inside her.

The vulgar sound of how wet she was could have made you cum just then.

Feeling generous, you matched her rhythm, helping her take each thrust better and relishing in the moans that rewarded your efforts. But as the redhead began to get more vocal in her neediness, turning closer to a desperate whine - you began to feel the resolve in you steadily break. The urge to just bend her over the table and take her how you wanted to, vibrating through you in discomfort.

The ropes fell away from your wrist.

"I need more.”

The words shocked you more than your now freed wrist, "What?"

Almost begging with just her eyes, Natasha trembled out a breath, "I need more." She shamelessly repeated.

The sight of the Avenger so willingly surrendering control to you was the only motivation you needed to oblige to her request.

Lifting her up, you pushed Natasha onto the table behind her. Responsively, the redhead wrapped her legs around you. The heat radiating from her skin was evident in every place your fingers touch.

With two hands, you gripped either side of her now bare waist, the leather suit she had been wearing pooling around you. The firm hold of her waist was all that you needed before you began pounding into her, setting a new unrelenting pace that made Natasha throw her head back in bliss.

With each thrust came the accompanying moans of approval from the redhead, the desperation in them growing by the second. Somehow, in the midst of all that was happening, the Russian's bra was unclipped and removed as well, thrown carelessly to the side. The view of watching her breasts bounce with each thrust only motivated you to go faster.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm going to cum." Natasha gasped out between moans, the words seeping with neediness, "Don't stop, please don't stop." She begged.

Stopping being the furthest thing from your mind, you only responded by catching her with a kiss. Even the hungry desire of your kiss, however, was not enough to muffle the desperate moans from Natasha as she neared her inevitable high.

"Look at you. No one else can fuck you like this, can they?" You mocked, moving a hand up from Natasha's waist to turn her face towards you.

Unable to respond verbally, the redhead shook her head vehemently.

"Say it." You pressed, unsatisfied with her response.

Confused green eyes, pupils blown wide with lust met yours.

"Say it." You urged again, drawing your movement to an agonizingly slow speed, "I want to hear it."

Natasha whimpered - something you didn't even know she was capable of, "Say what?"

Her nails dug into your shoulder, biting into the skin, "Say that no one else can fuck you like me. Say that you're mine." You demanded.

Maybe a Natasha in a different state would have objected to your claim. Maybe one whose mind wasn't so fuzzy and unclear.

But it wasn't a different Natasha that was wrapped around you right then. It wasn't a different Natasha that was shaking with desperation in front of you, grinding mindlessly against you in search of friction. It was this Natasha, and at that moment, all the Russian could focus on was how much she needed you to move again - to give her the final push towards her ecstasy.

And so she caved in, letting go of all inhibition and giving in to your request.

"I'm yours. Only yours, daddy."

You weren't entirely sure what part of her words got to you, but her words certainly did: a wave of satisfaction washing through you at once.

Picking up your movement again, you rewarded the redhead, returning back to the pace you knew she needed.

The sudden stimulation was too much, the previous absence of which heightening everything Natasha felt, and it wasn't long before the redhead was throwing her head back again in pleasure: this time with finality as her orgasm shuddered through her entire body.

Helping her, you pulled the Russian closer so that she would not fall in her bliss, feeling her chest heave against yours in an attempt to regain her breathing.

The only regret you had was that you could not stay longer to enjoy the moment; a distant and dull rumbling of the room suddenly becoming noticeable.

Picking up on it as well, Natasha slowly pulled back from you, silent confusion in her still unfocused eyes.

"You had wanted information on the bombs, right?" You asked, pulling away completely as you untangled yourself.

Distrust immediately snapped into the redhead's features, washing away all evidence of her previous state, "Yeah..."

Smiling innocently, you winked as you moved to fix your appearance, "Well, I wouldn't know too much about where the other bombs are," You admitted, your words causing Natasha to straighten up in sudden shock. You could feel your impending doom, "but I can tell you where a few of them are concentrated." You tried to offer.

Tossing her clothes up so that she could get decent, you glanced expectantly at the door behind Natasha.

She turned to follow your gaze.

"Just give me one...two..."

A large shockwave vibrated through the room. Shouting and yelling sounded through the door.

"Three..."

Realization appeared on Natasha's face, "You little shi-"

You didn't have to wait around to hear the rest of her sentence, the wall behind you suddenly crumbling away. Seeing your ride just a few stories below, you took your cue to leave.

"Come back here!" Natasha shouted, peering down as you free fell towards your escape.

You only waved back mockingly.

The last thing you saw was the shocked face of Natasha Romanoff as she undoubtably cursed you and the rest of your bloodline for eternity.

It was okay though.

Because she had admitted it.

The Black Widow had admitted it.

She was yours.

---

[theodorenmyth]

Enemies to lovers hate sex with Tom 🤭

Hatred and Desire

Pairings : Tom Riddle x M! Reader

Summary : For years, you and Tom Riddle have been fierce rivals, your mutual animosity defining every interaction since your first year at Hogwarts. But in your sixth year, a heated argument in the Slytherin common room takes an unexpected turn when Tom's frustration boils over into a rough, passionate kiss. As the night unfolds, the boundaries between hate and desire blur, leading to a surprising and intense encounter. Amid the aftermath, you both discover that there might be more to your relationship than you ever realized.

A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

Warnings) : hate sex, rough sex, enemies to lovers trope, slight degradation, whining, unprotected sex, creampie, d0ggy style, soft and sweet tom at the end, aftercare

Word count : 2k+

The Slytherin common room was a place of shadows and whispers, its dark, gothic architecture perfectly suited for the secrets it held. Tonight, it was no different. The green and silver tapestries fluttered slightly in the draft as the fire in the hearth cast eerie flickers of light around the room. You were sitting at one of the tables, quill in hand, trying to focus on your Potions essay, but your mind was elsewhere.

"You're doing it wrong, as always," came the familiar, cold voice from behind you.

You didn't even need to turn to know it was Tom Riddle. The two of you had been at each other's throats since first year, a rivalry fueled by mutual hatred and relentless competition.

"Mind your own business, Riddle," you snapped, not looking up from your parchment.

"Why should I, when it's so amusing watching you fail?" he taunted, leaning casually against the table, his dark eyes glinting with malice.

You clenched your jaw, your hand tightening around your quill. "I'd rather fail a thousand times than listen to your condescending drivel."

Tom's smirk widened. "Such bravado, yet here you are, struggling with a simple essay."

"At least I have the guts to struggle," you shot back, standing up to face him. "You just charm your way through everything, don't you?"

He stepped closer, his presence both infuriating and intoxicating. "Careful, you might cut yourself on all that edge."

You scoffed, pushing past him. "You're insufferable."

"And you're an incompetent fool," he countered, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to face him. "When will you learn your place?"

"Not beneath you, that's for sure," you retorted, yanking your arm free. "I'd rather—"

"Just shut the fuck up," he snarled, his voice low and dangerous.

Before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours with a force that left you breathless. It wasn't a kiss of affection, but of raw, unbridled anger and desire. You felt your back hit the wall as he pressed against you, his hands gripping your shoulders.

"What the hell, Riddle!?" you gasped when he pulled away, only to have him silence you again, this time with his mouth on your neck. The sensation of his lips and teeth on your skin sent a shiver down your spine.

"Stop," you managed to say, trying to push him away, but he was too strong. He pinned your wrists to the wall, his grip like iron.

"Why?" he murmured against your neck. "Isn't this what you've wanted all along? To best me in something, to be on top?"

"You're delusional," you hissed, struggling against his hold.

"Am I?" He laughed, a low, mocking sound that made your blood boil. "Face it, we've been dancing around this for years."

"You're out of your mind," you spat, but the words lacked conviction. There was a part of you that had always wondered what it would be like, this twisted, dark fantasy that now seemed all too real.

Tom's eyes bored into yours, a mixture of triumph and something else, something almost tender. "Am I really?"

You didn't have an answer, and he took advantage of your silence. With a swift, fluid motion, he lifted you off your feet and carried you up the stairs to the dormitories. You struggled, but it was no use; his grip was unyielding.

When he reached his room, he kicked the door open and threw you onto the bed. You landed with a grunt, quickly scrambling to the edge, but he was already there, his body caging yours.

"Get off me," you demanded, but even to your ears, the words sounded weak.

"Not until you admit it," he said, his voice a low growl. "Admit that you want this."

"I don't," you lied, turning your face away.

"Liar," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. "I can feel it, you know. The way your heart races, the way your body responds to me."

"You—" you started, but his mouth was on yours again, silencing your protests. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate. It was a battle for dominance, and you were losing. You could feel yourself yielding, your resolve crumbling under the intensity of his touch.

When he finally pulled away, you were both breathing heavily. "Say it," he commanded, his voice softer now, but no less insistent. "Say you want this."

You met his gaze, your defiance flickering like a candle in the wind. "I... I hate you," you said, but even as you spoke the words, you knew they were only part of the truth.

"And I hate you," he replied, a wicked smile curving his lips. "But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy this."

Before you could react, his mouth was on yours again, harder this time, bruising. His free hand roamed down your chest, roughly unbuttoning your shirt, exposing your skin to the cool air. You gasped, the sensation mingling with the thrill of being overpowered by someone you despised.

Tom broke the kiss, his gaze raking over your exposed torso. "Look at you," he murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "All this time, and I never knew what you were hiding under those robes."

His hands were everywhere, exploring, claiming, and you found yourself responding in kind, your hatred fueling a desire you couldn't deny. It was a paradox, this collision of loathing and longing, but it felt right, in a twisted sort of way.

He leaned down, biting gently at your nipple, causing you to arch off the bed with a sharp intake of breath. His hand slid lower, unbuckling your belt with practiced ease. You should have stopped him, should have screamed for help, but instead, a traitorous moan escaped your lips as he undid your trousers, his fingers brushing against your hardening cock.

"Seems like you don't hate this as much as you claim," Tom whispered, his voice thick with lust as he freed you from your clothes. He sat back, admiring his handiwork, then stood to remove his own clothing, his movements deliberate and slow, as if he knew exactly how much it would torment you to watch.

Once naked, he returned to you, his erection pressing against your thigh as he positioned himself between your legs. "Ready to learn your lesson?" he asked, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Wait, aren't you going to prep me?" you gasped, scrambling back on the mattress as Tom advanced. His smirk was wicked, predatory.

"Bad boys don't deserve prep," he taunted, leaning towards your ear. "Besides, you're already so wet so i don't think it's necessary." His finger traced the outline of your arousal, slick and ready despite the circumstances.

"Tom, stop," you pleaded, but there was a tremor in your voice that betrayed your true feelings.

"I hate you," he whispered, punctuating each word with a teasing thrust of his finger inside you. "But right now, I think I might just hate you a little less."

The pain mixed with pleasure as he pushed deeper, his fingers working you open with brutal efficiency. You arched against him, caught between wanting him to stop and craving more. Tom's free hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. He bit down, hard enough to leave a mark but not break the skin, a growl rumbling in his chest.

"You like this, don't you?" he sneered, watching your face contort with conflicting emotions. "Admit it, you want me to fuck you."

Your pride warred with the undeniable truth of his words. "Yes," you breathed out, the admission torn from you. Tom's grin was triumphant as he withdrew his fingers, leaning down to kiss your lips again before pulling away.

"Good boy," he praised mockingly, backing up slightly to admire your body.

"Turn around," he commanded, his voice rough. You rolled your eyes but obeyed, turning onto your hands and knees, presenting yourself to him. He moved behind you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Tell me again how much you hate me."

"I... I hate you," you managed to say, even as you pushed back against him, craving the intrusion.

Tom laughed softly, positioning himself at your entrance. "Liar," he accused, before thrusting into you in one swift motion.

You cried out, the sound mingling pain and pleasure as he filled you completely. Tom began to move, slow and steady at first, but quickly gaining speed. Each thrust was deep, hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur with pleasure. You buried your face in the pillow, muffling your moans, your body shaking with each impact.

"Look at me," Tom demanded, pulling your hair until you lifted your head. Your eyes met, both of you breathing heavily, sweat glistening on your skin. "Say it again."

"I hate you," you gasped, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of it all. "I hate you so much."

Tom's expression was one of dark satisfaction, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. "Good," he growled, leaning down to bite at your shoulder, leaving another mark. "Because I love hearing you say it while I fuck you."

Your vision blurred, the line between hate and desire indistinguishable as he continued to pound into you. You felt yourself getting close, the coil of tension in your stomach tightening unbearably.

"Tom," you choked out, your voice broken. "I'm going to—"

"Not yet," he interrupted, reaching around to stroke you in time with his thrusts. "Wait for me."

You whined, trying to hold on, your body trembling with the effort. Tom's movements became erratic, his breathing harsh in your ear. He gripped your hips so tight to the point where it was starting to bruise slightly.

"God, you feel so good," Tom groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he pounded into you. "So tight, so perfect."

Despite the discomfort, you couldn't deny the thrill of being taken so forcefully by someone you hated. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, making your toes curl and your vision blur.

Tom leaned over you, whispering cruel taunts in your ear as he fucked you. "You love this, don't you? Being used like a toy by someone you despise."

You moaned, unable to form a coherent response. All thoughts of resistance had fled, leaving only raw desire in their wake.

"Come for me." he grunted, and you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. You screamed into the pillow, your body spasming uncontrollably as Tom continued to pump into you, finally releasing with a groan.

He pulled away slowly, watching as his cum leaked out of your abused hole. He pulled you into his arms, both of you panting and drenched in sweat. For a while, neither of you speaks. The anger that once fueled your rivalry seems distant, replaced by something new, something fragile.

You lie there together, the silence now comfortable. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Are you alright?" he asks, his voice soft.

"Yeah," you reply, feeling a strange sense of peace. "'m fine."

"Good," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "You didn't."

For the first time, Tom smiles at you—a real smile, not the mocking smirk you're used to. It's disarming, and you find yourself smiling back. He muttered a cleaning spell, cleaning the both of you up. He kissed the marks he left on your neck, trying to soothe the sting. You leaned into him while he peppered your face with soft and light kisses.

"Get some rest," he murmurs, pulling the covers over both of you. "We'll talk in the morning."

As you drift off to sleep in his arms, you can't help but wonder what tomorrow will bring. But for now, in this moment, everything feels right. And for the first time in years, you don't hate Tom.

In the morning, things will return to normal. The rivalry, the animosity, the constant battle for dominance. But for now, in this fleeting moment, you allow yourself to be vulnerable, to feel something other than hate for the boy who has been your greatest enemy.

And as you lie there, entwined with your rival, you realize that maybe, just maybe, hate and love aren’t so different after all.

[zapreportsblog]

Hey really enjoy your writing. I was hoping if you could accept my request. Fem reader is human mate to the volturi kings . She met them while her friends and her where Ghost hunting it was night time and they friend to get in she’s ended up meeting them that way lmao she was 😳

Spooked but intrigued needles to says her life changed that day. She has had a blast getting to know the 3 kings and befriended the guard. She’s was always insecure and sometimes it’s hard to believe she gets to be with amazing people like they have so much knowledge and even been through a lot in life. One day she over heard a new guard talking shit about her. “Why is a human so important to the kings. The probably will just use her and toss her out. She’s so useless and doesn’t do anything. She heard it and got so depressed she locked herself in her room. It got so bad she sorta stoooed eating because she thinks he sorta is right compared to the kings she really does not grasp why they are with her she understands she’s their mate but wishes she could do more.

Cue the kings and the guard being worried /pissed because they can’t see her and got even more worried because she’s not eating and crying all the time. The twins are also mad they investigated and slowly found out how she heard some new guard talking shit. The vampire will now understand the phrases fuck around and find out.

Needless to says the guard is pissed with this vampire and the kings will take care of him soon 😡

But first their b loved need to understand how her work and her perspective as a human is so precious to them and to the her she’s that breath of fresh air that they need she makes their day’s joyful and they can’t see life without her. Marcus s all of them coax and explain how much she means to them. They get very vulnerable with her 🥹🥺

You cans add romance and fluff if you feel comfortable.

Now after reassuring her they take her so she can see them end this fool 😡😈

A trial is done to this stupid guard that dared to do this to their mate it’s not going to be a pretty execution 😈

👁️👄👁️ this is so long but at the same time 👁️🫦👁️ I like it, therefore enjoy 👁️👅👁️

↱ protecting what’s theirs ↰

➘ summary : a stupid ghost hunting trip leads to an unexpected meeting

➘ aro x reader x caius x marcus, twilight x reader, volturi x reader

The full moon cast an eerie glow over the ancient streets of Volterra as (Y/N) and her friends ventured into the heart of the city. Armed with flashlights and a sense of adventure, they were on a ghost hunting expedition like no other. Volterra's rich history and legends of the supernatural had drawn them here, but little did they know, they were about to stumble upon a world beyond their wildest imagination.

The cobblestone streets echoed with the hushed laughter of the group as they meandered through the shadowy alleyways. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. The tall, imposing buildings seemed to watch their every move, and (Y/N)'s heart raced as her flashlight flickered, casting eerie shadows against the ancient stone walls.

As they turned a corner, the distant sound of footsteps caught their attention. A chill ran down (Y/N)'s spine, and her grip on the flashlight tightened. The footsteps grew closer, accompanied by an indistinct murmur that sent shivers down her spine.

"Did you guys hear that?" (Y/N) whispered, her voice barely audible above the hushed whispers of her friends. They nodded, their expressions a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

Their flashlights converged on the source of the sound, revealing three figures emerging from the darkness. Dressed in attire that seemed both elegant and out of place, the strangers exuded an air of authority that demanded attention. Their eyes glowed with an otherworldly intensity, capturing (Y/N)'s gaze and holding it in a vice-like grip.

"Who are you?" one of (Y/N)'s friends stammered, her voice quivering.

"We are the Volturi," the tallest of the strangers replied, his voice smooth and commanding. "And you are trespassing in our domain."

A mixture of fear and fascination washed over (Y/N) as she studied the enigmatic trio. The Volturi - the name resonated within her like a haunting melody, awakening something deep within her soul. Unbidden, her eyes met the piercing gaze of the Volturi king, his crimson irises holding a promise of secrets and mysteries beyond her imagination.

Before anyone could react, the situation took an unexpected turn. A low growl reverberated through the air, followed by the emergence of another figure from the shadows. This newcomer was different from the Volturi, his presence radiating an aura of danger and wildness. His eyes locked onto (Y/N), a mix of curiosity and something more primal flickering in their depths.

"Demetri, Felix, we have guests," the newcomer's voice was a velvet whisper, sending a shiver down (Y/N)'s spine.

The tension in the air was palpable as (Y/N) and her friends found themselves caught in a web of intrigue and danger. The meeting of humans and supernatural beings was fated that night, setting in motion a series of events that would forever alter their lives.

The atmosphere grew electric, the very air around (Y/N) seemed to thrum with a hidden power. She tore her gaze away from the newcomer and back to the enigmatic Volturi kings, who exuded an unsettling mix of authority and intrigue. Questions tumbled in her mind, but the words caught in her throat.

"Forgive our intrusion," one of (Y/N)'s friends managed to stammer, her voice trembling. "We didn't mean any harm."

The tension eased slightly as the Volturi king who had spoken regarded them with an inscrutable expression. "Curiosity often leads mortals to unforeseen encounters," he mused, his tone measured.

"But now that you've seen us, you pose a risk," the newcomer interjected, his voice like velvet edged with steel. "A risk that requires management."

(Y/N)'s heart raced as the implications of his words sank in. What did he mean by "management"? The situation felt precarious, like a fragile balance hanging by a thread.

"We promise, we won't tell anyone about what we've seen," another of (Y/N)'s friends hurriedly assured, her voice quivering.

The Volturi kings exchanged a look that conveyed volumes without a word spoken. It was as if they communicated through an unspoken language that (Y/N) couldn't comprehend. After a tense pause, the leader of the Volturi spoke again, his gaze resting on (Y/N) once more.

"Your words are noted. However, secrecy is not the only matter at hand. There is something... unique about your presence here."

The intensity of the Volturi king's gaze sent shivers down (Y/N)'s spine. She felt like he was peering into her very soul, unraveling the thoughts and emotions she kept hidden even from herself.

"What do you mean?" she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible.

A ghost of a smile touched the corners of his lips, but it did little to ease the unease coiling within her. "Some things are better shown than explained," he said cryptically.

Before anyone could react, a swift movement caught their attention. The newcomer, who had been lurking at the edges of their conversation, now stood in front of (Y/N). His intense gaze bore into her, a mixture of curiosity and something far more primal.

"Would you allow me to show you?" he murmured, his voice like a seductive whisper.

(Y/N)'s heart raced as she met his gaze, her mind torn between fear and a strange attraction she couldn't explain. Her friends exchanged nervous glances, their unspoken concern palpable.

"Show me what?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

The newcomer's lips curved into a predatory smile, and a flicker of something unreadable danced in his eyes. "The truth about who we are, and who you are becoming."

As the moon cast an ethereal glow over the ancient streets of Volterra, (Y/N) stood at a crossroads between the mundane world she had known and the enigmatic realm that had suddenly opened before her. Unforeseen encounters had set her on a path of discovery, a journey that would challenge her perceptions and forever intertwine her fate with that of the Volturi kings.

In the days that followed that fateful encounter, (Y/N)'s life took an unexpected turn. Intrigue and curiosity won out over fear, and she found herself agreeing to the newcomer's proposal. What could he possibly show her? It was a question that echoed in her thoughts, driving her to embrace this newfound journey.

As days turned into weeks, (Y/N) discovered a world she had never dreamed of. The Volturi kings, Aro, Caius, and Marcus, each held a presence that was simultaneously awe-inspiring and intimidating. Yet, to her surprise, they welcomed her into their midst with a warmth and hospitality that shattered her preconceived notions.

There was something about their timeless wisdom and the stories they shared that drew her in. Aro's insatiable curiosity, Caius's unwavering determination, and Marcus's melancholic wisdom—each king offered a unique perspective that broadened her horizons.

But it wasn't just the kings who left a lasting impression. The main guards, Felix, Demetri, Jane, and Alec, became her friends. They possessed a camaraderie that was forged through centuries of loyalty and trials. Their stories, filled with both triumphs and heartaches, served as a reminder that even the seemingly immortal beings had faced their share of challenges.

Despite their extraordinary existence, (Y/N) found that they too were grappling with their own vulnerabilities. Jane's fierce determination masked a deeper longing for acceptance, while Alec's quiet demeanor concealed a well of emotions. Demetri's playful banter belied a complex history, and Felix's imposing presence shielded a heart of gold.

As (Y/N) spent time with them, she began to realize that they weren't just powerful beings, but individuals with their own struggles and insecurities. It was a humbling revelation that helped her see herself in a new light. Her initial insecurities, the nagging doubts that she didn't belong, began to fade.

With each passing day, (Y/N) embraced the friendships she had forged. They didn't judge her for her mortal limitations; instead, they celebrated her unique perspective and her willingness to learn. She found herself laughing more, exploring the hidden corners of Volterra with her new companions, and immersing herself in their world.

And through it all, the enigmatic newcomer who had introduced her to this world kept his promise. He showed her the secrets of their existence, revealing the intricate web of alliances, rivalries, and histories that shaped the Volturi's power. (Y/N) listened with rapt attention, her thirst for knowledge deepening as she delved into the labyrinthine tales.

As the weeks turned into months, (Y/N) realized that her life had irrevocably changed. She had transformed from a mere mortal into someone who walked among beings of unparalleled power. But even more importantly, she had found a sense of belonging, a place where her presence was valued and her voice was heard.

The grand halls of the Volturi castle echoed with footsteps, laughter, and murmured conversations. (Y/N) had grown accustomed to the rhythms of this supernatural world, finding comfort in her friendships with the kings and their guards. But one day, as she wandered near a corridor, her steps slowed involuntarily as she overheard a conversation that shattered her newfound sense of belonging.

The voices, though hushed, reached her ears with a clarity that cut like a blade. Her heart hammered in her chest as she recognized the voice of a new guard, someone she hadn't interacted with much. The words he uttered were like poison, seeping into her thoughts.

"Why is a human so important to the kings? They'll probably just use her and toss her out. She's so useless and doesn't do anything."

Those words echoed in her mind, a chorus of doubt that she couldn't escape. As if struck by an unseen force, she retreated from the corridor and fled to her room, her steps heavy with a sadness she couldn't put into words.

Locked away from the world outside, (Y/N) sank onto her bed, her thoughts a tumultuous storm. The echoes of the guard's words reverberated in her mind, amplifying the insecurities she had once managed to overcome. She had believed that she belonged here, that her friendships and connections were genuine. But now, the shadow of doubt loomed over her.

Tears welled in her eyes as she battled the emotions that threatened to engulf her. She had thought she was strong enough to face the skepticism of the outside world, but the venomous words had struck a chord deep within her heart. The weight of her perceived uselessness bore down on her, suffocating her spirit.

Hours passed like a blur as (Y/N) grappled with her emotions in the solitude of her room. The once-familiar space now felt like a prison of her own making. The world outside seemed unreachable, the bonds she had formed now tainted by the poison of doubt.

But just as darkness threatened to consume her completely, a soft knock on her door drew her attention. Tentative at first, then growing more insistent. With a heavy sigh, (Y/N) forced herself to rise from the bed and open the door, revealing the concerned faces of Demetri and Felix.

"(Y/N), are you alright?" Demetri's voice was gentle, his eyes reflecting a genuine worry.

Her voice caught in her throat, and she turned away, unable to meet their gazes. It felt like they could see right through her, past the façade she had constructed.

"(Y/N), you heard that, didn't you?" Felix's voice was quiet, tinged with a sadness she hadn't expected.

Unable to speak, (Y/N) nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She felt vulnerable, exposed, as if her deepest fears were laid bare for them to see.

Felix stepped forward, his large frame engulfing her in a comforting embrace. "You're not useless, (Y/N). You've brought light into this place, and your friendships are genuine. We've seen it, felt it."

Demetri joined them, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. "We understand that words can hurt, but don't let them define you. You're part of this world because you've earned your place."

Tears spilled down (Y/N)'s cheeks as their words sank in. She realized that she hadn't been alone in her struggle. The friends she had made here saw her worth, even when she couldn't see it herself.

Despite the support of Demetri and Felix, (Y/N)'s mind remained ensnared by the guard's hurtful words. Their reassurances were like a lifeline, but her doubts had taken root, growing stronger with each passing day. The castle that had once felt like a sanctuary now seemed like a place where she didn't belong.

The laughter of the kings and the guards, once a symphony that brought her joy, now felt like a reminder of her perceived inadequacy. She watched them with a heavy heart, wondering why they would choose to be with her, a mere human. In her eyes, they were luminous beings, powerful and wise, while she was fragile and ordinary.

As the days turned into weeks, (Y/N)'s insecurity morphed into something more insidious. She began to withdraw, spending more time in her room, lost in a sea of introspection. The once vibrant glow that surrounded her seemed to dim, and even her interactions with Demetri and Felix felt strained.

The guard's words had taken root deep within her, echoing through her thoughts even as she tried to push them away. Food lost its appeal, and her appetite waned as she contemplated her own worth. She wanted to do more, to contribute something meaningful, but the weight of her perceived uselessness bore down on her, sapping her energy.

Demetri and Felix's concern deepened as they watched her retreat further into herself. They tried to offer solace, to remind her of her place among them, but their words fell on deaf ears. Every reassurance seemed like an empty echo against the overpowering tide of self-doubt.

In the heart of the Volturi castle, a sense of unease hung in the air as Demetri and Felix stood before the three kings. The normally imposing presence of Aro, Caius, and Marcus seemed muted in the face of their guards' obvious distress.

"Demetri, Felix, you both seem troubled. What weighs on your minds?" Aro's voice was laced with a curiosity that never failed to unnerve.

Felix exchanged a look with Demetri, a silent understanding passing between them. With a deep breath, Demetri began to recount the events of the past few weeks—the encounter with the new guard's hurtful words, (Y/N)'s growing isolation, and her plummeting emotional state.

Caius's expression darkened as he listened, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his armrest. "And you say she's confined herself to her room? She's not eating?"

Felix nodded, his voice grim. "Yes, she's been locking herself away, hardly eating, and she seems to be in constant emotional distress. We've tried to reach out to her, but our words don't seem to reach her."

Aro leaned forward, his fingers pressed together in thought. "This is troubling indeed. We were aware of her insecurities, but we had hoped that she would find solace within our company."

Marcus, who had been silent throughout the conversation, finally spoke in his characteristic soft tones. "It appears that the shadow of doubt has taken a firm hold on her. She questions her place among us, her worthiness."

A heavy silence settled in the room as the weight of the situation hung over them. Aro's eyes glinted with a mixture of concern and determination. "We must not let this darkness consume her. We have seen her strength and resilience. It is our duty to remind her of the light she brings into our lives."

Caius's gaze was steely as he spoke. "Felix, Demetri, I want you both to find a way to reach her. Encourage her to open up, to share her thoughts. We cannot allow her to remain trapped in this cycle of despair."

As the guards nodded in agreement, Marcus offered a quiet suggestion. "Perhaps, the presence of the kings themselves might help break through her isolation."

Aro smiled, his expression one of reassurance. "Yes, we shall pay her a visit. Together, we will show her that she is not alone, that her place among us is secure."

With renewed determination, the three kings and their loyal guards set forth on a mission to bring light to (Y/N)'s darkness. The castle's grandeur and power faded in importance as their collective focus centered on the fragile human whose presence had stirred something profound within them.

As twilight settled over the Volturi castle, the air was charged with an unspoken tension. The kings had made their decision, and Alec and Jane, the twins known for their formidable powers, were chosen to investigate the events that had cast a shadow over their domain. The twins moved with an eerie grace, their gazes set with an intent that held an unspoken promise of retribution.

Their path led them to the new guard's quarters, and with a swift motion, Alec opened the door. Jane's crimson eyes bore into the guard, her gaze like a laser that could cut through steel. The guard looked up, caught off guard by their sudden presence.

"Mind if we have a word?" Alec's voice was deceptively calm, but there was a flicker of danger in his eyes.

The guard shifted uncomfortably, his bravado faltering as he sensed the aura of the twins. "What do you want?"

Jane's lips curved into a cold smile, her power radiating from her as she stepped closer. "We heard about your little chat the other night. About (Y/N). Care to elaborate?"

The guard's eyes widened in realization, but he tried to maintain his composure. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Alec's patience wore thin, and his tone hardened. "Don't play games with us. We know exactly what you said. We know about the doubt you sowed in (Y/N)'s mind."

The guard's defiance wavered, and fear crept into his eyes. He stammered, "I... I didn't mean anything by it. I was just venting."

Jane's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Your words have consequences. You underestimated her strength, and now she's suffering because of it."

A tense silence hung in the air as the twins' words hung heavy between them. The guard's mask of arrogance had crumbled, revealing a hint of vulnerability that Alec and Jane took note of.

"We suggest you tread carefully from now on," Alec's voice was a chilling warning. "Because you've just invoked the wrath of the Volturi kings, and they don't take kindly to those who threaten their own."

With that, the twins turned and left the room, leaving the guard to his thoughts. As the door closed behind them, a sense of unease settled over the castle.

Meanwhile, within the chambers of the kings, the atmosphere was fraught with a simmering anger. Alec and Jane's report had ignited a fire within them, and the knowledge of (Y/N)'s suffering had only fueled their determination.

Demetri's eyes darkened with rage as he clenched his fists. "The audacity of that guard to undermine (Y/N)'s place among us. She deserves more respect than that."

Felix's jaw tensed, his expression mirroring the anger of his comrades. "It's clear we need to set an example. We can't allow this kind of behavior to go unpunished."

Aro's lips curved into a dangerous smile, his gaze glinting with a mixture of power and retribution. "It's time to show this guard what it means to cross the Volturi."

The kings and their loyal guards united in their determination. The guard had unwittingly invoked the fury of the most powerful beings in the vampire world. The phrases "fuck around and find out" took on new meaning as they hatched a plan to ensure that the guard understood the gravity of his actions.

In the shadows of the castle, a reckoning was brewing—a reminder that the Volturi did not tolerate threats to those they cherished. The guard's actions had set in motion a chain of events that would shape the fate of all involved.

As the days unfolded, (Y/N)'s sense of isolation began to wane. The support of Demetri and Felix, along with the kings' determination to mend the damage, had chipped away at the fortress of doubt she had built around herself. The light that had dimmed within her began to flicker once more, illuminating the path toward acceptance.

One evening, as the moon cast its silvery glow over the castle, (Y/N) found herself alone in her room. The atmosphere was charged with a mixture of anticipation and unease. The knock on her door signaled the arrival of unexpected visitors.

"(Y/N), may we come in?" Aro's voice was gentle, tinged with an underlying warmth.

Heart racing, (Y/N) opened the door, revealing the three kings standing before her. Their presence was awe-inspiring, yet this time, it didn't fill her with trepidation. Instead, a sense of belonging enveloped her, and she welcomed them with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity.

"Please, come in," she managed to say, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her.

As they entered her room, the kings' expressions were a blend of concern and determination. Aro, the one most adept at voicing thoughts, took a step forward. "We want to apologize for any distress you've experienced due to the actions of one of our own."

Caius's gaze was piercing, yet there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. "We should have intervened sooner, defended your place among us."

Marcus's voice was soft, carrying the weight of his centuries of wisdom. "You are not just our mate, (Y/N), but a valued member of our family. Your presence has enriched our lives in ways words cannot convey."

Tears welled in (Y/N)'s eyes as their words sank in. They had come to her, not just to reassure her, but to affirm her worth in their lives. The fortress of doubt she had constructed crumbled, and she felt like she was standing on the precipice of a new understanding.

"I... I don't know what to say," she whispered, her voice catching.

Aro's smile was warm as he approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You don't need to say anything. Just know that you are cherished, valued, and loved.”

Caius's voice was a whisper that held an unspoken promise. "And we want to make amends for any pain you've endured."

Marcus's gaze held a quiet intensity. "Which is why we've decided to have a trial for the guard who caused you harm."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened in surprise, a mix of emotions churning within her. "A trial?"

Aro nodded. "Yes, a trial. We want you to be there, to see the consequences of his actions, to understand that the Volturi do not tolerate threats to their family."

Caius's voice was firm. "You will witness his judgment."

Marcus's words held a sense of finality. "And you will know that you are not alone."

Tears streamed down (Y/N)'s cheeks as she met their gazes, her heart overflowing with gratitude and a newfound sense of belonging. In that moment, she understood that her place among them was not just by chance, but by choice.

As the moon bathed the room in its glow, the kings and their mate stood together, bound by a connection that transcended words. In the embrace of their love and support, (Y/N)'s journey of self-discovery continued, her spirit rekindled by the realization that she was an integral part of the world she had come to call home.

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Don’t Let It In - Jake Kiszka AU

A/N: Demon!Jake alternate universe because… it’s all I could think of thanks to this song. I’ve kinda put my own spin on what an incubus can do. Some of this I really just went with as I wrote. I am so excited to give y’all this one. It was wayyy too much fun to write. I love you all so much <;3

WARNINGS: 18+ minors DNI! This definitely may not be everyone’s cup of tea!! Demon!Jake, brief talk of being dead, soft!dom Jake, fingering, oral (fem receiving), choking, multiple orgasms/forced orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex.

MASTERLIST

••••

There it was again. That out of place, unexplainable, sound coming from the other room, forcing eerie chills to shoot through you.

It was only you in the apartment and had been for months now. So you thought…

Random noises had been putting you on edge for weeks now. You never found their sources, or anything that may debunk their origins.

You laid in bed, trying to just brush it off. In your mind, there was no point in dwelling on what was probably just a wall or floorboard creaking, or maybe even your neighbors.

Then it happened again, but twice as loud. It was absolutely not a natural noise in the slightest and it was far too loud for you to believe it came from one of the surrounding apartments.

All of the color in your face was surely draining as you tossed the blankets off of your body. You didn’t have much of a choice but to go scope it out, so that’s what you did.

You worked your way slowly down the hallway first, flicking on every light as you went.

Nothing.

The living room was next. You flicked all of those lights on and looked around…still nothing.

Your kitchen and little laundry room were the only place left to look.

Slipping around the corner, you switched on the light and were met with yet another vacant room.

You blew out a defeated, frightened and confused huff, glancing around dumbfounded. That unsettling feeling was still sitting heavy in your gut and not finding the culprit of the noises was just making it worse.

Trying to push the feeling away, you opened up the fridge and reached in for a bottle of water.

“Mind grabbing me one too, while you’re at it?”

The voice belonging to a man sent you crashing into the floor, condiments and such that were sitting in the door of the fridge, crashed down on top of you as you fell - startled and absolutely horrified.

In the blink of an eye, he was in front of you, extending a beautiful hand down to you.

“Who… who the fuck are you?” you asked, barely getting the words out at all. “Get the fuck away from me,” you didn’t even let him answer before you were hissing the words at him.

“I’m Jake,” he smirked - a beautiful and intoxicating smirk. You couldn’t help but stare at his face, entranced beyond comprehension. He pushed his hand closer to you again, silently encouraging you to take it. “And I’ve been here for a while. Nice of you to finally notice.”

You glared at his hand, pushing yourself up from the floor on your own and slowly closing the refrigerator door.

“I would highly recommend getting the fuck out of my apartment,” the words were like pure venom. You didn’t even sound like yourself. “I already called the cops.”

You hadn’t really… yet, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You really want me out?” he asked you smugly, as though you’d be missing out on something spectacular if he left.

“Yes! Get. The fuck. out!” you said again, raising your voice a little louder.

“Okay.” His shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug, and then he was gone.

You froze in your spot, eyes flicking around frantically. Your brain couldn’t process what had just happened and you started to get hot, feeling as though you were losing every bit of your mind.

The rush of heat, quickly followed by intense chills made your body tremble.

Maybe it was just the wine I had earlier, you thought to yourself. Even still, that was hours ago. There was no way in hell that any of that madness was the product of a little white wine.

In light of trying to calm your nerves, you went back to your bedroom and stripped down from your clothes, figuring a cold shower might help you feel… something. Anything other than the fear surging through you.

You cut on the water, turning the knob as cold as it would go and stepped in. A groan of discomfort erupted from you, the cold temperature sending an unpleasant aching feeling through your body.

But it wasn’t enough. There was still a burning feeling inside you that wouldn’t go away. It felt like… raging need. Something so insatiable that it might drive you to insanity if it didn’t go away soon.

Your nipples grew painfully hard as you stood underneath the freezing water.

You turned around and turned around again. No matter how long you stayed under the streams of water, it did nothing.

A dull ache formed between your legs; so intense you were afraid you might crumble to the floor of the shower.

“Have you had enough yet?”

There he was. His voice filled the small bathroom with ease, low and raspy. You could see nothing but his shadow through the glass shower door.

You gasped loudly, clutching onto your chest with your hand. Fighting to catch your breath, you crouched down in the shower.

After a minute, you - unwisely - slid the glass door open.

There he was, fully clothed, leaning up against the sink with that smirk that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, no matter how badly you wanted to. He stared at you for a moment before pushing away from the counter.

As he stepped closer, you moved back - until you were trapped in the corner of the shower, where you sank down to the floor and pulled your knees to your chest with your face buried into them.

“Oh, beautiful girl,” He cooed softly, voice smooth as a silken breeze. His finger, warm and gentle, tucked itself beneath your chin. “Don’t be scared.”

“Don’t. Touch me.” You pulled your face away, avoiding his mischievous and lust filled eyes.

“I don’t have to.” A soft laugh trots out of him, warming your body up again despite the freezing water still falling from above you. “See?”

His finger retreated from your chin - that debilitating, throbbing between your legs replacing it instantaneously.

Your body tensed and burned, a pitiful whine fluttering out of you as the throbbing slowly grew more and more intense.

“You sound so beautiful.” Jake purred, watching you intently. “It’s driving you crazy, isn’t it?” His hand traced up the muscle of you calf, pushing your leg down when his hand reached just above your knee. His hand continued upwards, tracing over your lips with a featherlight touch. “That feeling right here…”

You wanted to scream and cry and fight him. Shove him away with every ounce of your being. His touch was just so addicting... Against every sane part of your mind, you didn’t fight him.

“Please…” You whimpered, eyes closed tightly and arms still clung around your upper body.

“Please,” He mimicked you, a sickeningly playful edge to his voice. “Don’t you know better, darling? Don’t you know if you let me in, I’ll just keep coming back for more and more?”

“Take me, then.” You begged boldly, slowly mustering up the courage to look up at him. “Just take me.”

“Oh, no, darling.” Jake shook his head, that smirk coming back to play once again. “I could never take you from here. You’re far too beautiful…” His hand is suddenly grazing the softness of your cheek. “But i’ll have my fun with you…until i’ve had enough.”

Jake reached up, turning the knob to shut off the water. He hauled you up in his arms far too easily, carrying you out of the shower and back into your bedroom.

“So… so you’re not gonna hurt me…?”

A scoff shook out of him, as though he was slightly offended by your question. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have already.”

“How comforting.” You uttered against better judgement.

Jake stopped in his tracks, staring down at you with blackened eyes. Your body exploded with a new sensation, like some sort of controlled, overly-powerful, never ending, orgasm of some sort.

Your head fell back over his arm, your mouth hanging open - feeling paralyzed by the pleasure he was sending through you without remorse. You could feel your lungs trying to force out some sort of noise, a plea, anything.

“I would highly suggest you use some fucking sense when you speak to me.” Jake laughed darkly. He stared down at you in amusement, watching you aimlessly struggle to gain control of your own body in his arms.

Finally, he stopped. You sucked in a strangled gasp, fighting to refill your lungs with air as your body fell limp in his arms.

“I… I’m sorry…” you panted, releasing your death grip on his shirt as he eased you down on the bed. “How… How do you do that?”

Jake tilted his head to the side, acting as though he didn’t know what you were asking about - even though he definitely did.

“How do I do what, darling?” he asked, climbing over top of your naked body.

“How can you make me feel things without touching me?” Your heart pounded against your ribcage, eyes fixed on his mouth where that beautiful smirk was residing once again.

He moved to sit between your parted legs, resting his weight back on the heels of his feet.

“When you’re dead, you can do whatever it is that you want,” Jake answered. “I just so happen to find joy in making pretty girls cum over and over, until they’re screaming and crying for just a sliver of my mercy.” He shrugged as if he was speaking the most casual words you’d ever hear in your life.

You stared at him, unable to form a single coherent thought in your mind. He was far too beautiful to be scared of and you were silently kicking yourself for wanting to drop your whole life, and let him take you wherever he so pleased.

His hands splayed over the bones of your shins, trailing them up slowly until they reached your thighs.

“I will say, you’re the first one that’s not put up much of a fight...” Jake’s observation seemed to intrigue him, judging by the curious expression and tilt of his head.

One of his hands traced farther up your thigh and glided over your hip and lower belly, eliciting a short burst of a tremble. His smirk widened then, watching your skin quiver and form goosebumps beneath his featherlight touch.

“Pretty girl,” he cooed, smiling at the way your eyes fluttered closed at his words. “Such a sensitive little thing. I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

“Please,” you quietly begged, pressing your body into his touch.

“Hold it, angel…” Jake’s hand traced up your sternum, his body starting to lean over yours as he stretched his arm. “It’s far too early to be begging.”

His other hand cupped itself over your dripping core, cradling it as he continued to explore the rest of your body with his other hand. His lips, warm and plush, connected with your belly, kissing and biting gently at the soft skin.

Your body reacted so intensely to him. The wetness leaking out of you was surely pooling in his hand as he held it over you. Anywhere his hands or mouth touched, burned and tingled in their wake. He was making your heart flutter and pound erratically, light whimpers fluttering out of you on nearly every exhale of breath.

“You’re so worked up already, aren’t you, angel?” he taunted, pulling his hand away from your core. “Look at that,”

You lifted your head, eyes landing on his pretty hand where - just as you had guessed - your own juices had just barely pooled.

“You’re a needy thing, huh?” Jake raised an eyebrow down at you, staring down at you in the most degrading way imaginable.

“Jake-“

“-Shhh…” he hushed you immediately, bringing his hand up to your mouth. “Taste yourself, darling. I bet you’ve never done that, have you?”

“Not… not in a while,” you admitted, cautiously taking his wrist in your hand to pull his hand a little closer.

You gently glided your tongue over his fingers and palm, tasting the sweetness of yourself off of them.

“Atta girl.” He watched you intently, smiling at the way you hummed against his skin.

“Don’t be greedy,” he spoke, pulling his hand away.

Jake slid his own fingers into his mouth slowly, holding your gaze as he did so. A whine bursts out of you, watching him taste you sending a new rush of wetness to your heat.

“Kiss me,” you begged with an urgency, reaching up to pull his as close as you could get him.

“Ah-” Jake stopped your movements. “-Don’t you know better?” he asked, taking your jaw and tilting your head to the side, attaching his lips to your neck in a few spots. “If I kiss you, that will be your soul. I won’t be able to let go… neither will you. You’ll be damned to hell with me if you let me in like that.”

“I don’t care,” you insisted. “Just take me. Take me, please?”

“Did I not tell you already?” Jake growled firmly, turning your head back to look you in the eyes. “You’re. Too pretty. To take. And I won’t tell you that again.”

His grip moved from your jaw to your throat, his other shooting between your legs to your core.

“You won’t want to come with me after I’m done with you, anyway,” Jake assured you, a cockiness suddenly playing around in his tone. His index and middle fingers connected with your clit, he didn’t move them, but kept a firm pressure against the sensitive bud. “Once i’ve drained you of everything you could possibly give me and then some.”

You squirmed against his fingers, your clit throbbing incessantly against the pressure he was keeping pressed into it.

That pressure in the pit of your stomach that he was making you rapidly too familiar with, started to spring to life. The harder you writhed, the firmer his hand around your throat became.

“Don’t be afraid of it, sweet girl.” Jake slowly started to circle his fingers, even though he knew could make you cum without doing so. “Just let me make you cum. Can you do that? Let me make this pretty pussy cum for me over and over?”

“Jake, Jake, oh god Jake,” his name was like a chant leaving your lips.

“Yeah, there you go…” Jake’s hand retreated from your neck, sliding his arm underneath your back to cradle you to him. “Say my name again, pretty girl. Sounds so good coming from you.”

“Jake, please, it feels so- it’s-“

“Yeah? Feels so good?” Jake taunted, dipping his head down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. “Aww, I know it does, angel.”

“Oh god, oh my god, i-“ your voice broke as loud whine ripped it’s a way out of you.

Your body unfolded right then at Jake’s will, the power of the orgasm unlike anything that a human could ever make you feel.

Your hand flew down to Jake’s wrist, clinging to it for dear life.

“Fuck Jake, I can’t - stop,” you whimpered breathlessly, fighting with the overstimulation cursing through your whole body. “Jake!”

“Uh uh, baby.” Jake slid his arm out from under your back, taking both of your wrists in his now free hand and pinning them above your head. “Don’t fight me, give me another one.”

You felt one of his fingers sink into your entrance, mind altering confusion taking over your brain as you still felt the debilitating pressure of his fingers over your clit.

Jake noticed your look of utter shock, a pleased grin pulling at his lips.

“Neat little trick, isn’t it, angel?” he asked smugly, pushing in a second finger to join in with the first.

Your mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into your head like you were being possessed. In a way, you figured you mind of were being possessed.

Jake’s face mimicked yours in the most heart stopping, mocking way imaginable. The smile that formed just after watching your cheeks blaze red, yielded the same mocking aura.

“Such a gorgeous face,” Jake purred, eyes scanning over your features attentively. “Could look at it forever.”

“Don’t say that to me,” you pleaded, severely disliking the way he was making you feel - only to leave you with his likely painful absence soon enough.

“I’m just telling you what I see,” Jake stated.

“Don’t talk to me- like that-“ you choked out, back arching away from the bed with a particular curl of his fingers.

“Fuck, Jake!”

“Remember what I said earlier?” Jake asked cooly, staring down at you with black eyes like he had done before. “When I said to watch how you speak to me? Yeah, that wasn’t a suggestion.”

A wail of pleasure erupted from you. That suffocating feeling of intense pleasure that he had placed over you in the shower, and as he carried you to the bed, took over your body again. You felt your sanity crumbling, just out of your reach to try and save it from crashing to the ground.

You clenched and fluttered around his ungodly, skilled fingers. The haunting touch that remained over your clit, throwing you headfirst into another orgasm.

“Ugh- Jake…” your voice croaked out, barely above an audible level.

Jake ignored you, curling his fingers into that sweet spot inside you and holding them there.

A squeal bounced off the walls of your room, your body jolting so hard you managed to slip one of your arms from his grip above your head.

“Alright, alright,” Jake relented with a dark chuckle. “I’ll give you a break, little angel.”

Jake’s idea of a break and your idea of a break, were obviously extremely different.

He removed his fingers from you, leaving your fluttering pussy and overstimulated clit to rest for a bit. Bringing his drenched fingers to his mouth, he sucked them clean once again with a low, satisfied hum. It made you wonder how his mouth would feel.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get that too,” Jake smirked, reading your mind loud and clear. “I would be a fool to leave here without tasting you first.”

The mention of his impending departure sent a pang of tightness through your chest. You would never have enough of him. You never wanted to reach the point of having had ‘enough.’

You laid against the blankets of your bed, already spent and drained to an unthinkable degree. Yet, it was clear he wasn’t quite done with your poor body.

Jake had fallen eerily quiet, transfixed on your chest. He was contemplating something, but what, you weren’t sure.

His eyes flicked up to yours with a mischievous and unnerving glint in them. He moved to lay over top of you, a firm hand on your sides, his face coming perfectly level with your breasts.

“Let’s have some more fun now, yeah?” Jake flashed you the quickest wink. It was posed as a question, but you new you didn’t exactly have a choice.

His mouth, warm and soft, wrapped around your left nipple. His tongue teased over it, delivering deliberate and firm flicks of his tongue.

Your body succumbed to a new type of pleasure, starting in a whole new place and pushing outward throughout the rest of you.

Jake pulled away, eyes darting up to yours that watched him.

“Ooh, she likes that.”

“Mhm,” you hummed softly, nodding down at him. “Please, more Jake.”

“More?” Jake echoed the word back, kissing around your nipple, teasingly avoiding it. Then, he finally let you in on what he must have been thinking not long before.

“Think you can come for me just from this?” Jake sucked your right nipple into his mouth this time, only for a second before letting it go with a soft pop. “From me playing with these?”

“I don’t… I… no?” You stumbled to find an answer. You didn’t really know if it was possible.

“That was a trick question, darling.” Jake giggled, squeezing your sides roughly. “I can make you cum however I want.”

“I can’t- I don’t know if I can again,” you sighed. Your mind naively still believing that there had to be limits to what he could make your body do.

You just knew there had to be… But there weren’t.

“It’s endearing, really-” Jake huffed a laugh, sliding his hands straight up to cup each side of your breasts. “-how fucked out you are already. Nothing I say is getting absorbed in that pretty head of yours at all.”

His mouth reconnected with one of your nipples, paying it his undivided attention like it was all he knew.

Little noises bubbled out of you as he worked his magic over you - quite literally in some sense.

In light of not wanting the other to be left out and wanting to see how your body reactions, Jake took your other nipple between his thumb an index finger, pinching and tugging and rolling it. Completely out of your control, your chest pressed into him and a squeak of a noise slipped from you.

The tightening between your legs felt so out of place - considering there was no attention being given to that area of your body.

“Jake…?” you squeaked out, somehow sounding like a question.

A soft, “hmm?” was all he offered you.

You were too focused on the strange sensation building inside you, to even recall what you even spoke his name for - other than it was slowly becoming the only thing your brain could remember.

It felt so similar to that of a normal orgasm, but so different all at once.

Jake switched his mouth to the other nipple, his hand quickly replacing his mouth on the one he’d just abandoned.

“You feel that?” he asked quickly, before bringing your nipple back into his mouth. “You gonna cum all pretty for me?”

“Shit, yes-” You sunk one hand into his hair, the other fisting the silk of his shirt. “-I felt it, I feel it. I’m gonna-”

The new kind of orgasm took over you body in the blink of an eye, washing over you with a different kind of intensity all together.

“Jake, please! Jake,” you cried, feeling as though you had little to no control over your body anymore.

Jake released your nipples from his mouth and fingers, but began a trail of hot kisses down your abdomen and lower belly. He was steadily working his way back down, to the part of your body that you wanted him to stay far away from and focus solely on all at once.

“No, no, no, nononono,” you babbled, nearly incomprehensible. Your hand still in his hair tugged roughly, trying to jerk him away from your body. “Please, no more, Jake. No more.”

“‘No more, Jake, no more’,” he shot back in a whiny tone, closely resembling yours. “You’re such a whiny fuckin’ thing. Have I told you that yet, angel?”

“No…” you answered weakly, swallowing down a sob as he placed a kiss over your slick folds.

“Just a couple more, sweet little angel,” he said it like a promise. “Just-“ he placed another kiss over your clit. “-a couple-“ pausing once more, he flicked his tongue over it. “-more.”

Jake’s arms wrapped themselves around your thighs, holding you against his face as he began to teasingly work over your heat with his skilled tongue. No matter how much you tried to buck and jerk your hips away, it proved useless. His grip was far stronger than anything you could ever go up against, even on one of your strongest days.

His mouth brought you closer and closer by the second, coaxing that raging fire in the deepest part of you that should have long fizzled out already. Not on his watch though. That delicious, burning ache inside you was drawing out the prettiest sounds his ears had ever been graced by.

Your sounds grew louder and louder, another erupting from your lungs before the first sound could even stop echoing around the room - creating some sort of obscene harmony of moans.

“God, you sound so beautiful when you’re close,” Jake groaned against you, dull nails digging crescent moons into your hips. “Why would I ever want to stop making you cum?”

A glass shattering scream erupted from deep within you, your body arching and thrashing around unceremoniously. Your eyes were screwed so tightly shut, it was dangerously close to giving you a headache.

Sob after sob of merciless pleasure shook out of your lungs, all while Jake’s low laugh vibrated against you.

Even after Jake’s mouth had left your core to momentarily rest, soft sobs continued to shudder out of you. Thanks to your eyes still being closed, hot tears pouring from the edges like there was a broken seal, you didn’t notice his eyes soften for the split second that they had.

“Poor thing,” Jake spoke softly. He let go of your legs and you felt his weight shift, the back of his hand suddenly stroking the tears from your cheeks.

You tried your best to ignore the fake sympathy it was drenched in, despite the softness of which the two little words were spoken.

“Open those eyes, pretty girl,” Jake commanded gently. “C’mon.”

You opened your eyes for him, trying to blink away the remaining tears. Once your vision cleared, your eyes widened and unashamedly drank in Jake’s now naked body.

“There they are,” Jake smirked down at you, taking immediate notice of your gawking. “You still with me? Kinda…?”

“I’m breathing,” you mumbled dryly, drawing a genuine giggle from him.

Fighting to find the words, you continued. “Still want you to fuck me. Please…”

“I’ve drained you of nearly everything you have and you still want me to fuck you?” Jake grinned, dipping his head down to kiss along your collarbone.

“You’re going to anyway,” you said matter-of-factly.

Jake huffed a laugh into your neck at your astute observation. “Well… yeah. But you want me to.”

“…M’not ready for you to go yet…” you admitted quietly, hesitation clear in your voice.

“Not gonna leave you yet, angel,” he assured you, carefully lining himself up at your entrance.

Jake pushed himself in slowly, cursing along with you as he stretched you out. He made pain feel so delightful, pain was starting to not even register as pain anymore.

“God damnit, you feel so fucking good,” Jake rasped out, planting his hands on either side of your head. “Been waiting to do this for so long.”

“How- fuck, Jake-“ you struggled to get the words out through your moans. “-How long have you- been here?”

“A long time, angel,” Jake answered simply. “Long time.”

It was unsettling to say the least, but you were too lost in the otherworldly pleasure of Jake’s cock sharply thrusting into you to care, or spend too much time dwelling on it.

Each of his thrust sent shock waves through your body; from your core, out to your toes, to the tips of each of your fingers.

The moans coming from you both mixed together, tangling in the air in their own little lust-drunken dance.

Your hands clawed at the backs of Jake’s shoulders, fighting the urge to force him down on top of you and crash your lips into his. That’s all you could think about… just one kiss.

One kiss was all you needed. All you wanted.

Jake dropped down to one of his forearms, his other hand snaking between your two flaming bodies to connect with your clit.

“Ah, Jake- just- just cum without me, please,” your voice strained as you begged him. “Please, Jake, please!”

“Shut up and cum with me,” Jake commanded, bending your body to his every will and command yet again.

You unwisely fought with your own body, holding off your orgasm until Jake was starting to fall just over his own edge.

Jumping at his moment of weakness, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and used every bit of energy you had left to pull yourself up and connect your lips with his.

“Fuck!” Jake all but yelled against your lips, but couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

Your own mind-numbing orgasm swallowed you up not even seconds later. You sent moan and cry, after moan and cry into Jake’s mouth.

“What the fuck did I tell you?” Jake sighed exasperatedly, trying to stable himself from his high - all while trying to process what you’ve done.

“I needed it,” you breathed out.

“You needed to kiss me more than you needed to live?” Jake chided lightly, glaring down at you. “I told you, you’re too pretty for me to take…”

“What? Am I dead now?” You questioned, far less panicked than you had expected to be.

“Not… not exactly,” Jake sighed. “We’re tied…” his hand slid up your throat to your jaw, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Which means eventually, I’ll become so obsessed with you, that I have no choice but to drag you to hell with me.”

@shutupdevvie @jake-kiszkas-smirk @belovedsamuel @gardensgatedaisy @ageofbarbarians @theweightofjake @theweightofstardust @stardustndreamsofgold @positivegvfthings @gretasmokerising @jordierama @jordie-gvf @juliensbakery @doodle417 @gvfpal @gretavanbitches @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @asparrowofthedawn @greta-van-chaos @skankforjakekiszka @sarakay-gvf @teddiie @colorstreammind @ofburningskies @of-infinite-wonders @why-ami-on-here @lunaindigoraven @samkooszka @mamavanheat @rhythm-of-space @ascendingtostardust @laurenlovesgretavanfleet

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

When they reach his house, the first thing Dustin does is switch the shower on until the water runs hot, because Steve started shivering on the drive over, and Eddie kept glancing over at him in deep concern whenever he gave a more intense shudder, his wet clothes sticking to the back of his seat.

After agreeing to stay over, Steve had slipped into an eerie kind of calm, drifting upstairs to his room to get some dry clothes, doubling back for his toothbrush with a self-directed sigh of exasperation.

He’s quiet as Dustin shows him the shower dial, and even though he nods and smiles, at least, his eyes always land just to the left of Dustin, not quite looking at him.

Dustin tries not to let it sting.

He just blasts a hairdryer in his room to warm himself up, hasn’t got as drenched by the rain as Steve did.

He’s heading to the living room when he hears voices—

“…long has it been like this?”

—and stops.

“I—I don’t. Not. Not all the time.”

“So long enough then. What, are we talking weeks? Months?”

There’s a horrible silence.

“Oh, Steve. Fuck, man, don’t say it’s been years.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

Eddie’s voice wavers when he asks, “On your own?”, like he’s fighting tears. That’s just his way, Dustin thinks. Heart on his sleeve.

“Well. Yeah.”

Steve’s words are clipped, as if he’s irritated, but Dustin gets the feeling that it’s more Steve forcibly trying to stop anything more from spilling out.

“Eddie. Come on, don’t look at me like that.”

Eddie laughs, shattered at the edges. “Can’t control my face, Harrington, ‘fraid I can’t help you there.”

“I mean it, it’s not like—it’s not been that bad all the fucking time, you know? Just. Lately, it’s. Got worse.”

Dustin silently presses his back against the wall and sinks down to the floor. A part of him feels embarrassed that he’s eavesdropping like a little kid, but he can’t help it. If he reveals himself now, he has the sudden fear that Steve will stop talking for a long while.

Eddie breathes in. Out. “In what way?”

“Like. Nightmares and stuff.”

“So walk me through it?”

“Eddie…”

“What? Didn’t know I had the monopoly on sharing fucked up dreams.”

“It’s… I don’t remember all of them. Just… just the feeling when I wake up, it’s…” Dustin hears Steve take a shaky breath, muffled like his hand is briefly covering his mouth. “It’s spreading.”

“…Spreading?”

“I can’t stop it anymore.” Suddenly it’s as if Eddie’s simple prompting has made something inside Steve snap; he’s really talking now, rapid-fire, like he’s running out of time. “I wake up, and I can’t—I just know that I’ve… I’ve fucked up somehow. That I’ve… I’ve lost. Someone. Everyone. Feels like the fucking walls are closing in. It’s—it’s when I’m awake, too. I can’t stop thinking—a-and it’s not even Upside Down shit, not all the time. It’s… Robin was late to work once, and something told me that she—she was dead, and I…”

A creak of someone sitting down on the couch. The soft rustle of fabric. Dustin doesn’t need to see to know that Steve and Eddie are sitting next to one another—that from the fragile way Steve exhales, Eddie is hugging him.

“Christ, Steve. That’s… no-one can just—just deal with that alone, okay? That shit’s poison.”

Steve laughs brokenly. “I can’t just—what else am I supposed to—Eddie, it’s everywhere, it’s—I wake up and I check every fucking car wreck on the news, ‘cause I just—I just have this awful feeling that. That the kids, they’ve…”

Dustin thinks of Steve jokingly scolding them whenever they’re late for him to pick them up, his routine call of, “Hey, shitheads! Seatbelts on or you’re walking.” He feels sick.

“But last night, it…” Eddie sounds tentative. “It was worse?”

“Just… nightmare. Upside Down.”

But the return of the clipped tone to Steve’s voice betrays that there’s more to it.

“Steve.”

It’s kind of amazing, Dustin thinks, how just by saying Steve’s name, it somehow sounds like Eddie is saying, Please tell me and I’m here—and probably more.

“I’ve…” Steve inhales sharply. “I’ve never dreamt that you—that you made it before. You’re always… I’m always too late, and you’re dying, or you’re already dead, but…”

Eddie sounds a bit shaky, too. “But?”

“Not last night. I thought—I fucking thought it was better, it was all quiet, and there were dead bats on the ground, and I was at your trailer, and you were opening the door, you’d made it, and… And then you. You said.”

“Okay, take a breath—”

“You said, ‘One got in.’ That’s all you kept saying one got in, and I was fucking shaking you, trying to help you snap out of it, and… Then I saw what you meant. That. That Dustin.”

“Oh God.”

“It had sliced through his neck. Eddie, he wouldn’t. Wouldn’t stop bleeding.”

“All right. Hey, I’ve got you, just—”

“And then I woke up. And I… I thought. And when I-I went to check—”

“The phone wouldn’t work.”

“Yeah. Think I lost it, a bit.” A deep, weary sigh. “Embarrassing.”

“It’s not. Steve, I fucking promise you that it’s not.”

“Then I… I don’t know. Think I threw up, maybe twice. Drove until I. Until I couldn’t.”

Another creak. Eddie getting off the couch. Footsteps. Running water.

“Here. You’re probably dehydrated to hell.”

Slow sips.

“Hey, Steve. Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For telling me.”

A silence goes on for long enough that Dustin feels he wouldn’t be intruding, if he entered. But he waits. Just in case.

There’s a little miaow by his feet. Tews, blinking slowly up at him.

Dustin gently nudges him towards the living room until he obligingly trots inside.

The reaction is instant.

“Baby,” Eddie says reverently, and Dustin nearly laughs because oh, that’s right; they’ve not met before.

Steve chuckles, makes a soft, encouraging clicking noise. “Hey, bud.”

Dustin stands up. His mom told him once that cats can sense when someone’s in pain, even if they’re silent about it.

When he enters the living room, Tews is curled up in Steve’s lap, purring loudly. Eddie’s got one arm flung across the couch, resting just behind Steve’s head; with his other hand, he’s scratching Tews—the favoured spot, right under the chin.

Steve looks like he might—not sleep, not exactly, but that he might doze off a little.

Dustin doesn’t bother being that quiet, remembers one time when they’d all taken over Steve’s couches, watching movies, and he’d made fun of Steve for his eyelids drooping within the first thirty minutes.

“Can’t help it, dude. When you little shits talk, it’s like white noise,” Steve had said—which at the time, he’d made it sound like an insult, but now Dustin can see that there’s some truth in it.

He lifts a take-out menu off the fridge, folds it into an aeroplane and throws it at Eddie’s chest.

“I’m starving.”

Steve sinks a little more into the couch. His head tips back slightly, and then Eddie’s fingers are lightly skimming through Steve’s hair.

Eddie laughs quietly, takes the menu and says, all hushed and theatrical, “Why, boy, you’re naught but skin and bone!”

Then he smiles, and his head tilts just a bit in acknowledgement—like he knows Dustin had given them the time alone.

[nineinch-nailgun]

I fucked this up so I ahd to reedit it AUGH

Weird pet pt 3

So, it's been a month now and you still have that thing in your basement. Lord knows why you haven't set it free or called the cops but it's too late now. The mimic you have locked in your basement had proven to be... kind of stupid. Maybe it was young and an inexperienced hunter but everytime you went down to feed and water it, he would just stare. No attempt to attack or chase, just stare. His eyes were piercing like a Phineas Gaige flagpole. He was patient too, if you considered foaming at the corners of the mouth while watching someone come down the stares with raw ham patient, that is.

Tonight is special, well not really. You got a raise recently at your dead-end job and thought you'd use your first extra hundred to get something extra for the massive beast that lived in your house rent free. As you sauntered down the steps you could practically hear the drops of slobber that plopped on the ground. He stood at his full obnoxious height- roughly around 7ft. He stared intensely as you got to the last step and place the food down on the 'meal towel', as you called it. You always made sure to take off the shitty plastic wrap- and you poured the water into the large bowl you'd gotten him. He honestly lived like an animal- but he didn't seem to mind too much. Compared to other mimics this could be considered the life of luxury, he gets to sleep and eat all day. No hunting, no running from human groups that want to kill him, no need to find shelter, and best of all it comes at no cost to him. He's practically spoiled, and wouldn't last a day out in the wild. You backed away from him and watched as he threw himself at the ham, devouring it like he'd not eaten ever in his entire life. He got to have more than just one tonight, and it was a little more expensive- and given how he ripped at it he seemed to think it tasted better too.

You suddenly remembered some of the things you'd left in your car from him, and decided to go and get them. You quickly drove yourself up the stairs, closing the basement door behind you. You got outside and opened the back of your car. Comforters and pillows. Your poor... beast mimic pet thing had to sleep on the cold hard floor while you learned to be more comfy with him. Now you'd went out and got him some nice cushions so he could maybe feel more at home- how domestic! You carried the rest of your spoils back into the house, cutting wrapping off of different things so he wouldn't try and eat it and choke and die. You weren't sure how smart that thing was but he seemed intelligent enough. You made your way back down the stairs and found he'd already finished his food. He stood there contentedly, eyes shut and he swayed a tiny bit. Oh yeah mimics have a whole... "digestion mode" thing. He heard you though, and lazily opened his eyes. His perpetual smile was still eerie despite his comatose like state. Although he perked up at the sight of the blankets and pillows you had tucked under your arms. He watched as you made your way to his usual sleeping spot, a towel here and there. You sat down the pillows and blankets- attempting to make a nest for him. You wanted to maybe try and appeal to his animalistic nature, give him something comfy to sleep on but also something that he was familiar with. He peered at you from his spot rooted on the floor. He wasn't moving anytime soon, but he did seem to enjoy watching you set up something so thoughtful for him. He didn't turn his head, just gave you some side eye. Once you felt satisfied you got up and pulled away, admiring your handiwork. You started to walk away, getting ready to retreat back upstairs when you heard him whine a little. It was pathetic. All his sounds seemed to be pathetic though. You looked at him and his half lidded eyes were a little wider now. He made a lazy attempt to reach for you, but didn't try too hard. His arm dropped back by his side. It was unclear what he wanted but you decided to stick around, if only for a moment.

Ok so it had been more than just a moment. More like several moments turned into minutes turned into what felt like hours. Although it had only been like a minute and a half. He had shut his eyes by now, and something about his tired demeanor made you feel a bit safer. He wouldn't bite the hand that feeds him would he? So for whatever God forsaken reason, you sneak forward, and hand extended towards him. His eyes open ever so slightly, but he doesn't move. Soon enough you're within "grabbing and killing" distance- but he makes no move once again. You don't know what the fuck you're getting yourself into at this rate, but your extended hand touches his arm.

Naturally you flinch away, he didn't seem to mind though. He watched curiously as you reached for him again, brushing your fingertips with his forearm. Slowly your hand wraps around it and brings his arm forward, sliding down to his hand. You inspect his claws, and watch his face cautiously, looking for any possible threat. But no threat shows itself. He's just letting you inspect him, in fact he seems just as curious as you are. He stares down intently as your hands hold his. Eventually you feel embarrassed and pull away, his fleshy arm falls to his side and he watches with a little strain as you back away towards the stairs.

He seems almost disappointed, but you don't notice. You crawl back up the stairs towards the living room of your house. Maybe he was a mimic with the brain of a trimming. Im not complaining though, he hadn't eaten you yet- so that was certainly a plus.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

“it's my thigh or nothing. i'm not helping you get off.”

with chubby aegon please 🙏😩

Aegon ii SMUT Prompt #6

pairing: modern!chubby!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader

warnings: chubby!Aegon, swearing, thigh riding to the max, breast kink, stomach kink, slight edging, reference of p in v sexual intercourse.

a/n - whoever you are nonnie, you read my mind reading that prompt…. kudos to you, your fine ass specimen p.s I may have gotten carried away with this one... just a teensy tiny bit whoops-✨

Having a boyfriend who leant more towards the thicker, more larger side of life had its perks, that was the honest truth… Your sex life? Impeccable.

You’d never been more pleased and sated in your life, with anyone before, until Aegon waddled in. He was essentially your very own, real-life teddy bear. Always embracing you in his warmth and plush, he was a needy thing. He just had to feel you in some way, whether it was as simple as hand-holding or as invasive as cockwarming you from dusk till dawn, he had to touch you in some physical way.

To reiterate, he was a BIG boy. Which you did not mind, not one bit. In fact he was pretty cunning in the sense that he knew how to use his heavier mass around your body, to get precisely what he wanted. Practically pinning you against him between some wall or mattress, spreading your legs apart of him to nestle his wider frame into, till he was satisfied that you were completely full of him. Dripping with his seed, his hot spill just oozing between your thighs, as you'd whimper beneath the subtle pressure, writhing and squirming beneath to free yourself to breathe. Your naked, hot bodies naturally grinding against each other, the friction was palpable. You couldn’t get enough of him.

You often relished in the act of squeezing and biting at his chub, desperate to shove yourself deeper into his body, until you were practically smothered. It was invigorating to make Aegon work for you. Although, he did too, enjoy making you work for him.

It was no surprise, he was rather lazy. Much enjoying either eating or gaming if he wasn't already fucking you. And this evening you found your boyfriend practically infuriated, heated over an online session of gaming with Jace and Aemond.

An intense, booming "FUCK!" roared through your shared bedroom, as you entered, witnessing Aegon aggressively smacking down his controller, wiping his headphones off in a haste.

One thing about Aeg, he took his gaming very seriously: a single event to piss him off, would keep him heated the entire day, which meant only one thing... You would be responsible to sate him.

"Is it really so bad you lost, just this once, Aeg? Maybe you should take a quick break, and get back at them!"

"They're fucking assholes- I told them to respawn me, and those little fuckers wouldn't. Thinking they could win without me- Fuck-"

You were in no denial, to discount the fact that it kind of turned you on, seeing how heated and roused Aegon would get with these things, often enjoying having the power to calm him down.

"Come here, my big bear-"

As you'd been caressing small circles gently on his back, your hand then reached for his pudgy one, pulling and nudging for him to follow as you stood, attempting to walk towards the bed. Although, his heavier ton remained stagnant, not moving against your pull, causing you to stop from going any further.

"Aeg, what's wrong baby? Let me fuck you real good and respawn you myself, huh?" You teasingly wink up at him smiling, as you slowly kneel down before him, using his chunky, sprawled thighs for support, as he remained seated on his gaming chair.

"No, no- You just don't get it, Y/N-"

"Aeg, it's just a fucking game, get over it! You either let me fuck you till your happy, or I go to bed, which is it?"

The silence was eerie, although your temper raised. As your impatience grew thin, the stoic look strewed across Aegon's face was telling enough that your words had sent him over the edge.

"You can fuck me."

"That's what I thought," You sighed, as you pushed yourself up from his sturdy legs, just faintly beginning to swivel your body towards the bed, before Aegon's interjection stopped you so, your back still turned towards him.

"But it's my thigh or nothing. I'm not helping you get off."

You stood still for a few seconds before proceeding to turn to face Aeg, a chilling smile drawn across his soft, full face, brows raised almost in a menacing way.

"Is that so?" You uttered, Aegon nodding his head eagerly in agreement, his chair creaking beneath his heavy weight, as he leaned back, hands resting atop his head, as he spread his stocky legs out as much as the chair could grant.

"Well, are you no longer up for it, baby, or do you prefer to keep me waiting? Either or, you'll see what it feels like to lose."

A chuckled sigh escapes your mouth, as you nod in astonishment. You refuse to cave into his nags. You will cum, if it's the last thing you'll do on this ungodly man.

Having removed your lower garments, now completely bare, you'd raised his shorts up more, exposing more pale skin, as you'd applied some body oil, massaging it sensually into his tender skin. One thigh would suffice, its width and beefy size was all that you could take. Plopping yourself down carefully, you spared no second in beginning to rock yourself ever so slowly backwards and forwards, your bare cunt, beginning to ache that familiar dull throb strengthening.

"You don't think I can't get off like this, huh? If only you knew, silly boy. Seeing you like this, spoiling yourself with junk, growing that ass, and swelling. M-more for me to fuck. I-It turns me on so, so much, Aeg, you have no idea-"

Now your pace beginning to hasten, your rocking movements grew sloppier, the more attempts you made at plunging your cunt deeper against his skin. Your folds coated now with the oil and wetness beginning to pool between, helped to easily glide you over his thigh, the fat beneath swaying in rhythm to each direction you moved. His mouth found itself nibbling at the tender skin of your jawline, tracing its way down to the sensitive crook of your neck, chills etched all over your body. His palms kneaded and squeezed as your bare ass cheeks, naturally pushing your smaller frame deeper against his.

"Tell me more, Princess. What about this fat gut? I bet you want to rub that pretty, tight cunt all over all this-"

"Mhmm- Y-Yes Aeg-"

"My greedy, little girl. Knows all of this belongs to her, thinks she can just fuck me and go about her merry way. Brat. No, no, greedy, bratty girls get punished, Y/N."

"Then p-punish me, A-Aeg-"

An invigorating, deep growl echoed from his throat directly into your ear, as you practically green-lit for Aegon's shenanigans. The sheer, heinous thought that Aegon would pay you back for your bratty attitude this evening, along with the feverish friction brewing from beneath, in between your entrance and his thigh, could send you int an oblivion.

His plump, moist lips found their way, suckling at the sweet skin of where your cleavage showed, pressed up against his rotund chest, burying his face into your breasts. Your back arching against his wet trail of kisses and hickeys, your hips naturally bucked down, as the thigh riding grew messier, your nails digging into the plump rolls of his back, your could sense the wetness trickling from beneath, coating his thigh, as your clit grew more hot, heavily pressed against his radiating skin. You could feel the stiffness of his bulge growing by the second, visibly restricted beneath his shorts, bursting to come out.

"P-Punish me-"

And as discussed, Aegon fulfilled his words that evening. Having warmed you up with a single thigh, he effortlessly carried you towards the bed, laying you gently as to not part the vacuum of your bodies, where he shoved his cock deep inside, filling you completely with his hot, potent seed.

[taylorkellyreporting]

i hope no one minds if i inconsistently liveblog this bitch: doctor who season one from 1x04

1x04

HELLO??

A WHOLE YEAR???

shit

“you’re 900 years old?” “yeah.” “my mum was right, that is one hell of an age gap.” lmfaooo

“i’m the only person who knows it exists.” spoke too soon

damn, he left her. i wonder if the key he gave her was even real.

it was a pig 😭

OH NOOOO

every time they get separated, shit goes off the rails

IS HE GONNA KILL HER MOM?!

1x05

girl, FUCK the emergency protocols

“sorry.” 😭

that shit was intense

“my mother’s cooking.” “good, put her on a slow heat and let her simmer.” CACKLING

i feel so bad for her mom :(

1x06

this episode really is…something.

why the fuck is the doctor just offering up all of this information???

he really should have seen this coming

*pretends to be shocked*

their cockiness is gonna get them killed

i never want rose and the doctor to be separated EVER again

“what use are emotions if you won’t save the woman that you love?” damn

don’t know how i feel about this dude joining them

1x07

“he’s your boyfriend.” “not anymore.” did i miss something???

something’s wrong…

is that guy dead?

i don’t trust adam at all

rose is so stupid. i could understand if it was mickey she was trusting but she doesn’t even know this man

huh, that was unexpected.

what the actual fuck

1x08

this ep’s gonna be so sad

the doctor never should’ve taken her to that day

“alright, i’ll tell him you’re not my boyfriend.” obsessed with her thinking that was the issue 😭

not important but jackie looks really good with her hair like that

well. that was heartbreaking.

1x09

sorry, but if a kid wearing a fucking plague mask was repeatedly saying “mummy” in an eerie voice, i would have turned and walked the other way. r.i.p. to rose but i’m different

what part of “don’t answer it.” is hard to understand? lmao

“excellent bottom.” gross.

i know i sound like a broken record but what the fuck?!

this is one creepy ass episode

this dude is coming on so strong dkgjgks

“finally, a professional.” rose, be serious.

“they’re not dead.” okay.

girl, what the fuck?

1x10

i can’t believe that worked lmfaooo

“those would’ve been terrible last words.” 😭

“half this street thinks your missus must be messing about with mr haverstock, the butcher. but she’s not, is she? you are.” SCREAMING

“i sent it to its room. this is its room.”

that’s fucking terrifying

“the first day i met him, he blew my job up. that’s practically how he communicates.” pls

“okay, so he’s vanished into thin air. why is it always the great- looking ones who do that?” “i’m making an effort to not be insulted.” “i mean…men.” “okay, thanks, that really helped.” fkfhhgdj

i hate jack for interrupting their dance. IT WAS JUST GETTING GOOD.

“carry on with whatever you were…doing.” “we were talking about dancing.” “it didn’t look like talking.” “didn’t feel like dancing.” 😭

these episodes are so fucking creepy but they’re definitely the best of the season

oh my God, he’s her son

THEY’RE DANCING 🥹

1x11

i can’t wait for mickey’s reaction to jack

“trust me, safest place in the universe.” famous last words

i hope the doctor doesn’t trust her

poor mickey

“it’s always the doctor, it’s never me.” buddy you should’ve known you weren’t first choice when she left you in the beginning

she’s an egg 😭

1x12

i almost don’t want to press play.

lmao, what the hell

it always comes back to floor 500

oh shit, the doctor cause all of that?

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

rose can’t be dead

THANK GOD

i can’t believe the daleks actually survived

1x13

i’m not ready to say goodbye to nine

rose is getting a taste of her own medicine with the doctor and lynda djfjgjs

HE KISSED THEM BOTH 😭 I LOVE JACK

i can feel my heart breaking

who the fuck is bad wolf if it isn’t the daleks???

mickey’s really getting on my nerves this ep

HELLO

“there’s nothing left for me here.” ‘nothing?” “no.” she’s RUTHLESS 😭 but honestly he shouldn’t be surprised at this point

JACK ☹️

“i am the bad wolf.” BITCH???? WHAT????

i got my kiss but at what cost

OH SHIT THEY LEFT JACK

all i feel is pain

that’s it??? how am i ever going to move on from eccleston? how the hell are you guys strong enough do this every season? cause i’ll tell you how i’m doing: not well, bitch!!

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

land softly

Summary: Ghost & Soap are snowed in at a bed & breakfast. Fleabag voice: This is a love story. Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

Part 2 - Johnny performs a chore

When Johnny opens his eyes in the morning, he checks the time (0600), whips his head towards the bay window for a quick inspection (pure, blinding, snow white), and then groans.   The weather app on his phone confirms what he’d suspected: there’s no way he’s making it to Glasgow—he’s not even making it out of Yorkshire.

But he does need to figure out his situation at the inn, and groans aloud at the idea of convincing the grumpy innkeeper to let him stay another night.  Two, if the horrid weather persists.

His unasked question is answered when he ambles his way down to the kitchen at 0700, freshly showered, and the masked fella’s already there cooking streaky bacon.  The table’s been set for two and the smell of fresh coffee entices Johnny to take (what he thinks) are sneaky steps, but he gets caught out anyway.

“Morning,” the grump mutters, and Johnny carefully returns the greeting.  “Can’t leave in this weather, can ya, mate?”

“Uh…”  

“It’s fine,” the man mutters.  “I ain’t goin’ anywhere either, looks like.”  He turns around and motions to the empty chair.  “Sit.  Eat,” he orders, brusquely, and sets a full English in front of Johnny.

Johnny can’t help but wonder about the abrupt 180 in the giant’s mood from the previous evening, but he lets it go, considering he’s being fed a mighty big breakfast.  He’s shovelling eggs into his mouth with all the gentle decorum of a mountain bear pre-hibernation, when the giant takes the seat opposite him and stares.  No food in front of him, no coffee.  

Johnny squirms from the unblinking attention, on edge from the dark mask that hid his lower face—a mask adorned with the bottom half of a skull.  Eerie and fucking weird, but who was Johnny to judge.

In his line of work—ex line of work, he corrects himself bitterly—he’d seen much worse.

“You dinnae have to do all this, ah appreciate it!  Ye must have family tae go visit for Christmas and I’m holdin’ you up here, ah’m so sorry—”

“No family, s’ fine.”

Johnny’s eyes slide carefully to the ring on his left hand and back to his face, only to flush when he’s clearly been caught looking.  “Ah, ah’m sorry, I just saw the ring and thought ye were married, sorry, that’s—”

“I was.”

“But the ring—” Johnny blurts, before he can help himself.

“Ring stays.  Name’s Ghost,” the man says without missing a beat.  

“Yer name is Ghost?  Did your mam hate ye?”

“Dunno.  She’s dead.  Eat.”

Johnny nods absent-mindedly, and picks up his forgotten cutlery, sneaking glances at the—at Ghost.  

His attention remains unwaveringly on Johnny, though, and he stares intensely at Johnny through the whole thing. 

“I work ‘ere,” Ghost continues, as if the conversation had never stalled.  “Maintenance ‘n that.”

“Okay…”

“The kitchen’s stocked, if y’need to eat.  Help yourself anytime.  There’s coffee, tea, all sorts in there.  Stay as long as you need, there’s no drivin’ in this weather.  Give me a shout if you need me, I’ll be around.”

Ghost flings facts at Johnny at hyper-speed and Johnny’s unsure about what to do with this information.  

“Do—do ye need help?  Ah’m no’ doin’ anything anyway.  Be happy to help for yer lettin’ me stay—”

“Place needs a Christmas tree.”

Johnny chokes on his coffee.  Ghost merely leans back on the chair and waits him out, while painful, hacking coughs leave his body.

“Ye want me to put up yer tree?”

“Christmas in a couple days, innit?  Boiler needs lookin’ at too,” Ghost states and then narrows his eyes.  “I’ll sort that,” he says quickly, when Johnny looks like he was going to offer to do that instead.  “Pulled the tree ‘nd that outta the attic, it’s in the main room.  If you want to help.”    

“Alrate, I can decorate a tree.”

***

Johnny finds that he cannot, after all, decorate a tree.  He really struggles with it, really struggles with a fuckin’ Christmas tree—he can’t remember the last time he’d done this, which comes as a nasty shock—and decides that a change of strategy might be in order.  

He’s determined to do this right, though, and so he acknowledges (with a cringe) exactly what he needs to do.  

He bounds up to his room and grabs his phone.  It only rings twice before his sister answers.  “Too early, Johnny!  Wake my child and I’ll kill ye.”

“Sorry,” he laughs.  “Alright love?”

“S’ all good, pup.  But ye’re not gonna make it fer tonight either, the weather’s stirred up somethin’ awful.”  

“I know!  Never seen snow so bad this time o’ year.”  Johnny has to pause at the irony.  “Mother Nature herself isnae wantin’ me to meet my mother.”

“Yer not funny.”  He hears his sister sigh.  “Gonna be strange without ye here, y’know?”

“Ah know.”  But Johnny knew what his sister was too polite to say—that it might be weird without him there, but not necessarily bad.  He didn’t blame her. 

“Anyway.  Why’re ye calling so early?”

“Ah need your help…with a Christmas tree.”

“What?”  His sister’s voice had taken on an incredulous tone, two octaves higher than usual but when he explained to her what he wanted to do, and about the mysterious weirdo Ghost that ran the bed & breakfast, she was beyond intrigued.  “...kind of a name is Ghost?  His mam hate him?”

“‘S what I said!  But he’s lettin’ me stay here, even though the place is closed.  Fuck, ah’ll decorate his tree for ‘im.  Whatever.  Doesnae matter, can ye help me?”

“Such a brat, Johnny.  Fine.  Here’s what ye need to do.”

As she speaks about tinsel placement and an even bauble to tree ratio, Johnny  realises with a start that he hasn’t looked forward to a project like this for a long, long time.  Johnny’s only looked out for Johnny for so long that something as trivial as putting up a Christmas tree for someone else’s benefit felt like an undeniably selfless act of charity.  The thought disgusts him, he has to shake his head to distract himself from the dark line of thought.

The occasional glance out of the window reveals the constant, seemingly endless snow falling from the skies, but he’s grateful to at least be warm.  And while he separates the baubles from the tinsel from the tree lights, exactly as instructed, Johnny finds his thoughts straying from him.

Nothing’s caught his attention, nothing’s made him want to do something for someone else for a while.  Or maybe it’s just the gruff, stoic, kind of charming innkeeper.   And that thought comes as a surprise, seemingly out of nowhere. Huh.  

The only other constant apart from the snow seems to be the 80s music playing softly from upstairs.  Johnny knows it’s where Ghost is fixing the boiler, and occasionally, he’ll recognise the cheesy song playing from the vintage radio that Ghost seems to carry around with him along with his tool box.  It’s…beyond strange.  

Come afternoon and Johnny finds that he’s still not made as much progress as he’d  have liked to.  The front room of the inn is so messy, he’s thankful for the lack of any other guests at the place—there was hardly any place to walk around in the room.  

He doesn’t find that he has too much of an appetite—too engrossed in planning where he’d like the wreath to go in the room—but he hears Ghost rummaging around for something in the kitchen anyway.  And of course, it seems like where Ghost goes, so does the radio.       

And that’s it, isn’t it?  Johnny finds himself completely intrigued by Ghost.  He’s gorgeous under that mask, Johnny’s confident of it, but if he’s being completely honest, there’s only a few facts that he knows for certain about Ghost.  Special Forces.  Inn-keeper?  Listens to The Police a lot.  Cooks a decent breakfast.  Ah, he’s worked with less in the past.   

“Yer going to clean up after y’self, yeah?”

He’s a bad soldier for how the voice startles him and Johnny’s resentful to admit that he almost jumps a foot in the air from it.

“...yeh yeh, ah’ll clean up.  Almost done here, how’s it looking?”

Ghost stands up straighter, almost like he didn’t expect to be asked, but he crosses his arms over his chest and uses his chin to motion at the tree.  “Lights.”

“Aye, sir,” Johnny mumbles, rolling his eyes at the barely concealed command, and turns the lights on.  When he does, Ghost’s eyes widen slightly, and Johnny has to turn away to hide his smile.   “And?”

Ghost doesn’t say a word, but it’s like Johnny can see his entire frame melt.  It starts up at his shoulders, makes him uncross his arms which fall down to hang limply at his sides.  It’s like the entire tough demeanour falls away to the side, while he watches the lights of the tree and the decorations in the front room, and when he inhales, it’s shuddery.  He appears shaken up by what he sees, and Johnny can’t even begin to guess why. 

“Would ye like to put the star up on—”

“L-lunch is in the kitchen, help yourself,” Ghost mutters, then strides out, aiming for the front door.  Just before he leaves though, with a hand on the door handle, he pauses, and turns halfway to address Johnny.  “Thank you.  I, uh.  I appreciate it.  You didn’t hafta.”

“It’s no’ a prob—”  But Johnny doesn’t get to finish the rest of his sentence because the front door slams shut, and Ghost is gone.  “Steamin’ Christ,” he mutters.  

It’s only two hours later, when Johnny’s picking at his food in his own room, when movement outside the window catches his attention.  He sets his plate down and walks over, only to choke on his own breath like someone had punched his throat, hard.  He stands there, frozen, staring, wondering what on Earth was in his food that’s made him lose his mind.  

But, no.  Ghost stands there below his wind,  his all-black attire contrasting starkly against the blanket of snow.   In the middle of a snow storm, Ghost stands outside Johnny’s window, axe in hand, chopping wood.

It’s hypnotising, mesmerising,  Johnny finds, watching Ghost and his movements.  It’s surprising how none of it is surprising to Johnny—not the action, not the fact that Ghost is outside in a snowstorm to do it—but Johnny finds himself unconsciously holding his breath and clenching his fists while he observes the movement of Ghost’s body as he does it.  

There’s nothing lean about his body.    

He’s all powerful, rippling muscle under a healthy layer of fat, his chest gorgeously broad, expanding under a black hoodie that strains and relaxes under the movement.  Even from two storeys up where Johnny looks down at him, nothing about Ghost fits in.  Nothing about him looks like it belongs in this picturesque scene, and nothing about him can be glanced over.  He demands Johnny’s absolute attention, even when he doesn’t know it.  Especially because he doesn’t know it.  

Johnny takes a deep breath, and runs shaky fingers through his hair with his exhale.  The movement catches Ghost’s eyes because sharp eyes turn up to look at Johnny instantly.  Johnny’s caught unawares and regrets his finger-wave and chin-nod combo as he does it, embarrassed at having been caught ogling at the man while he’s on the job.  

And while Johnny can’t confirm it, not being able to see Ghost expression from the distance, when he gathers the logs of wood and walks them to the back entrance of the inn, Johnny’s sure Ghost stands taller and walks cockier.

It feels like the atmosphere in the inn becomes a bit more hospitable, and the ice between them melts a little.  At least…that’s what the knock on his door on Johnny’s door in the evening indicates.  It’s tentative, like even Ghost can’t believe he’s doing it.  Except, unlike Ghost, Johnny has had an entire afternoon to accept that he’s got a stupid crush on the hot innkeeper, and he’s flinging the door open.  

Ghost looks uncomfortable.  There’s no other way to put it—Ghost’s open hands twitch at his sides, his foot taps a quick staccato on the floor and he looks at anywhere but Johnny.    

So Johnny waits.  

“I, uh, wanted to know.  You want some dinner?  We got some.”

“Bit early fo’ dinner, Ghost.”  Johnny’s smile is wide, only widens when his hip leaning against the door frame catches Ghost’s attention. 

“Got a bar we can raid.”

 Johnny’s eyes sparkle with interest, before he pushes off the door, agrees easily.  “Must warn ye though, Ghost,” he says, as they make their way down the stairs, Johnny trailing the bigger man, enjoying the view.  “Best have a stocked bar.  I’m a Scotch man, meself.”

“Shocking.”

“What?  Not a fan?”

“I drink bourbon.”

“Like a good ol’ boy…”

Ghost’s sharp inhale makes Johnny hold his own breath for a moment, before they both relax.  “I like Kentucky,” comes the small whisper, almost a defensive after-thought.  Ghost rounds the corner into the kitchen with a quick stride and Johnny, rather unconvincingly, hides his sudden laugh as a cough.

Ghost’s scoff from the kitchen tells him how unconvincing that really was.  

***

“Ye got me right pished,” Johnny accuses, finger pointing to where Ghost’s form doubles and triples in front of him.   

“Only so I could ‘ave my way with you.”  The completely deadpan response he receives sets Johnny off, and only the crinkles around Ghost’s eyes make the ugly snort that leave his mouth worth it.  

They quiet after a while and then Ghost’s eyes lift and fixate on the hundreds of tiny lights around the room.  They looked gorgeous, and Johnny was proud of himself.  “You did well.  With the tree and that.  Thank you.”

“Ye…looked like ye didnae like it.  Earlier.”

Ghost scoffs, but the sound is sad.  “Sorry ‘bout that…didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.  About yesterday too.  It’s, er…’twas a strange day.  Wasn’t you.  Sorry.”  

Johnny melts at the awkward sincerity in Ghost’s voice but freezes when Ghost turns his face to look at him.  Oh.  Oh holy fuck.  His eyes aren’t brown, Johnny realises, horrified.  He’d looked at them earlier, dismissed them as a generic “dark,” but fuck.  

Holy fuckin’ shit, they’re not fucking  “dark,” they’re actually—

“Green!” Johnny blurts.  He’s sure getting shot at has been less painful than the hot, searing feeling of embarrassment that crawls up his chest and manifests as bright, embarrassing, pink across his face. Ghost stares at him blankly, and fuck, if Johnny isn’t in the most awkward three seconds of his life.  “Alright, that’s enough of that,” Ghost mumbles finally and stands up, wincing at his cracking knees as he does.  “Dinner?”