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pyramid-of-starrs · 6 months

Text

Drunk intimacy W/ Ateez

This is what I imagine drunk "encounters" with each member would be like, just to clarify I mean drunk and consenting not sloppy wasted, so more so tipsy lol Enjoy.

Warning: Drunk sex, Oral sex (M and F recieving), semi public fingering, cockwarming, may be other stuff lemme know!

Minors dni

Hongjoong:

You and Hongjoong would be leaving the bar from a night of hanging out and drinking with everyone, you both would get in the car and drive to a secluded spot and he would park and you both would push your seats back as far as they could go, then Hongjoong would lift the armrest. No words would be spoken, they didn't have to be said, you would both look at each other and without a word start a very intimate and sloppy make out session. You're all over him like he likes it because when you both have some liquor in your system you joke that he becomes your little slut lol. Teeth scraping, tongues in and out of each other’s mouths, eyes rolled back and lots of lip sucking and biting, the noises alone from the kissing would be considered pornographic. Hongjoong has his hand firmly planted on your ass after he lifted your skin tight dress up to your waist, one of your hands made it inside his baggy pants after you undid his belt, you started to jack him off right there in the front seat. Hongjoong was trying his best to continue kissing you but your grip on his very sensitive dick was making him dizzy, he would stop the kiss to occasionally let out a whimper or a "fuck". His red and flushed face with how needy and fucked out he look was making you crazy, you loved how submissive and horny he got, you decided it was time to make him feel even better. You and him worked together to shimmy his pants down enough for his red and throbbing cock to spring out, you loved teasing and edging him when he was like this, you reached down still pumping his shaft, you stuck your tongue out to make circles on his tip.

"Fuuuck Y/N" Hongjoong said dropping his head onto the headrest, his hand still gripping your ass.

You kissed his tip a few times, "I know it feels so good doesn't it baby?" you said wanting to tease him, your mouth dove down his shaft, bobbing your head up and down, Hongjoong bit his bottom lip as he hissed, his whimpering of pleasure was music to your ears.

"So fuckin' good baby, 'o good." He managed to say between his moaning, your tongue and mouth never stopped, sucking harder while your saliva traveled down his dick and covering his balls, it was a bit sloppy, but he loved it. His hand occasionally leaving your ass to land smacks on it to tell you you were doing a good job.

"Baby, baby I'm g-gonna cum." He stuttered out.

You started to suck him off faster, making sure to make his dick hit the back of your throat, you held him deep in your mouth while his cum shot into your mouth, loud profanities dropped from his lips while he moaned loudly, fuck you loved when he was vocal. You didn't waste a drop and swallowed his entire load making sure to look into his eyes.

"Fuck baby I love you so much." Hongjoong said, you came up not even being able to wipe your mouth before Hongjoong pressed his lips to yours, sloppy kisses being exchanged once again.

"I'm going to fuck your brains out when we get home." He said smiling on your lips and looking into your eyes

You pecked his lips again and looked back at him. "I told you you couldn't handle that last shot."

Seonghwa:

"H-ey we aren't go-gonna make it s-sorry." You said barely being able to get out your sentence while you were on the phone with your friend canceling your group couples hangout.

"Aww whyyy? Hongjoong is going to be pissed he isn't going to have his uno partner Seonghwa here." Hongjoongs girlfriend said over the phone.

"I knoo~ we pregramed tooo~ hard and Hwa is out of it." you said immediately snatching the phone from your ear and putting it on speaker to finish the conversation. Hongjoongs girlfriend went on about all the things they had planned tonight but you couldn't focus anymore. Seonghwa was the reason for that, he had his back against the arm of the couch and his long legs across the couch with you on top of him, your back against his chest, he had both your breast pulled out of your tube top with one of his hands tweaking your nipples. His other hand was busy slowly playing with your clit, he knows you want him to go faster, he knows it you wanted nothing more but for him to fuck you but he told you it wasn't a good idea to have those drinks before going out, he told you it would just make you both horny but you didn't care. You thought you could just tease Seonghwa all night for being drunk and horny, but he wasn't letting that happen. He left trails of wet kisses and licks from his long tongue on your neck while you tried fighting off your moans, only letting breathy small ones escape.

"Anyways Y/N girl these guys are driving me crazy I would have loved for you to be here to! You sure you can't at least come?" She said obviously pouting. Seonghwa drug his tongue up to your ear.

"Mm gonna leave me baby? Gonna leave me after making me all hot and bothered?" he said rubbing your clit faster.

"Ooouuu FUCK- oh my g- fuck no, I'm sorry girl I can't he's already making a mess right now." You said still trying to keep a clear mind, you had to bite both your lips.

" 'sure am, making a mess of this wet little pussy." He said in your ear, he put one of his slick covered fingers into your cunt, you gripped his pant leg and threw your head back while you whined between your closed lips. You needed and wanted more but he wanted to edge and tease you, he would leave open mouth kisses on your cheek until he made his way to your mouth to give you a wet french kiss, you could taste the juice and alcohol on his tongue, sweet and bitter citrus, he took the breath out of your lungs, your ears ringing from pleasure, no longer able to even hear your conversation, he removed his hand from your chest and gripped your face so you two could look at each other.

"Hang up and bend over."

Yunho:

One too many bottles of Soju and all Yunho wants to do is eat you out. You both were just casually drinking and one think led to another and next thing you know your shorts and panties were off, you were sitting in the cute recliner you bought for the bed room, your legs were being pinned up but Yunhos large hands and he was face planted in your cunt. It had been an hour or so, at least you assume it has, you were drunk and on the way to your 3rd orgasm, Yunho just wouldn't let up. He just loved the feeling of eating you out, but it was something so satisfying to do it while you both had some drinks. He loved your dramatic gasping and jolts, the way your pussy got wetter and how hard you would grip his hair while you begged and spasmed. He couldn't only use his tongue, no he had to put his entire face in it, he wasn't a man that was afraid to get his face covered in the line of duty, he wanted you to drench him. He loved to sweet taste of your cunt as well, since you were drunk you were more sensitive, and it was easy to make you really wet. He would occasionally glance up at you to see your eyes rolled back and your mouth wide open, hearing you yell his name or say things like "fuck Yunho, I can't take it." just encouraged him to fuck you with his mouth more. He knew to make you extra crazy he would put on of your legs on the arm of the chair or let you hold it up while he fucked two of his long finger into you while he sucked your clit like a lollipop. You would gasp for him to stop while your thighs would try to close and you try pushing his head away but he's stronger than you, he wouldn't let you run, you had to sit there and fucking take it. You would covered his face in your slick once again, you were out of breath and fucked out, he would get up and go to the bathroom to wash his face and come back with the warmest smile.

"Well now that I've ate you wanna order some food?"

Yeosang:

Everyone was at Hongjoong, Jongho and Wooyoungs apartment, drinking eating, playing games and now singing drunk karaoke, everyone was either passed out or singing. You and Yeo on the other hand, well you two were sitting at the table watching everyone while he plunged his two fingers deep into your wet pussy, it was something about all the liquor in your system that made you want your boyfriend more and more. He originally was sitting at the table alone but as the night progressed and you got drunker you started to watch his arms flexing in his in short sleeve and it was something so sexy about how well he could handle his liquor. You got up to sit next to him nuzzling nice and close, then the closer you would get the more you smelled his cologne and watching his face and just the sight of him was enough to make your leg bounce to create some kind of friction to help soothe the burning between your legs, you hug his arm while you tried to calm yourself but breathy noises escaped your lips.

"You okay Y/N?" he would ask

"Need you...so bad Yeo." would be the only thing you could say, he understood what needed to be done, when you're this needy you needed immediate attention, so he got to work.

Now here you were with his fingers nice and deep in you, he would make the "Come here" motion so he could hit your spot occasionally, he didn't want you to get to loud but luckily the music and over all commotion drowned out your whimpering. It was a horrible time to do this but the thought of everyone seeing you so fucked out and needy for him kind of turned him on, so he has no problem helping his baby out. Though he himself isn't a lightweight when it came to drinking since he mastered the skill of not acting drunk while drunk, he couldn't deny that drinking did make him a bit hornier, especially after losing all those games and having to take straight shots with no chaser. You squeezed his arm tighter, closed your eyes and bit your lip, all signs that you were close to your high, Yeosang sped up his pace, it was dangerous since the table shook but honestly, he only cared about making you cum for him. You saw stars as you finished on his two digits, he pulled them from your jeans and into his mouth so he could taste your slick, you dropped your head on his shoulders and rolled your eyes back while the group called you and Yeosang up to pick the next song.

San:

Poor Sannie just can't handle his liquor, you two get home from hanging out and San would just strip naked and get under the covers then whine until you finally came in the bed room to shut the lights off and get in bed with him.

"Mmm baby, too hot, no clothes." San groaned while tugging at your clothes, you rolled your eyes and took off your pajamas to accommodate San. He cuddled you closely, nuzzling his face into your neck and squeezing your waist, though you wanted to go to sleep you couldn't help but feel something on your ass.

"Sannie... are you?"

"Just ignore it baby." he said, but with Sans length how could you possibly ignore something like that pressing into you.

"Do you want to have sex baby?" You asked, it's not like you could sleep, it felt like you were laying on water since you were still pretty tipsy.

"Don't feel like it." He mumbled out.

"Wanna cockwarm then?" you asked, trying to help him relieve his throbbing dick.

"...only if you don't mind." He said, he didn't want you to feel pressured, you nodded your head to give him the approval, he lined himself up with your entrance and was able to easily slide in since you were still wet from when he pulled you to the bathroom to fuck you while you were out. "Fuck baby you're so tight you feel so good." he said squeezing you tighter, he couldn't help but roll his hips a few times just to enjoy your heat.

"Does that feel better Sannie, you just wanted me to hold your dick baby." you said reaching back to scratch his scalp.

"You're too good to me baby." He said, he kissed your lips a few times then snuggled back into you, you two eventually drifted off to sleep just for him to wake up early that morning to fuck you senseless.

Mingi:

He decided to come home to your apartment instead of going home because he didn't want anyone seeing how affectionate he is when he is drunk, just a big cuddly baby. He would hold you while you're unlocking the door and kiss you when you're changing then when he can't take it anymore, he would pull you into his lap while he is seated on the bed. He wouldn't even change your clothes he would just pull your sleeping shorts to the side and take out his length while you two were kissing and ease you down his dick. Drunk sex with Mingi is nice and slow and sensual, it's not about cumming it's about feeling you wrapped around him, it's about him touching every inch of your body with his hands and lips, Mingi is a drunk love maker. You would rock slowly on his length while cupping his face and continuing to make out, his large hands wrapped around your waist squeezing you tightly so you couldn't move or run.

"I love you so much baby." he would whisper between kisses.

"I love you more Mingi." you would say back, giving him reassurance that you feel loved, and you love him just as much, he is a Leo, so he needs it.

His phone would ring, calls from the guys to make sure you two made it home safely, every time you advised him to answer he would say "You're the only person I care about right now." While he continued to roll his hips deeper into you.

After a while of slow sex, you were about to cum, and he notices that, he rubbed your back and kissed you deeply while you cover his cock in your juices. He knows you get sleepy so he stops and cleans you both up then puts you both to bed, you would tell him to keep going so he could cum to but again he wasn't doing it for a release he just wants to feel you.

Wooyoung:

As soon as you walk through the door together he is trying to bend you over and fuck your brains out, you were in the middle of taking your shoes off (literally one is off one is on) and he is pressing you against the wall lifting up your skirt while kissing your neck.

"Wait Woo we should mm" he cuts you off by kissing you, you wouldn't even be able to talk in complete sentences. "We should-" kiss "at least go t-" kiss "to the be-" kiss "the bed Woo let's" kiss.

"I need to fuck you right now, right here, this has been on my mind all night." would be the last thing he says before he gets on one knee to eat you out from the back, your hand reaching back to grip his black hair while your eyes roll back and your mouth is gasping.

"Oh, my fucking god it feels amazing Woo fuck!" When you and Wooyoung get drunk the dirty talk is amazing, it's truly part of the experience.

"Such a dirty little mouth for a dirty little slut, watch your fucking mouth." He says before striking your ass.

"Ow! Fuck you!" you say before he strikes you again then rises from eating you out.

"Oh, fuck me ?" He says while yanking you to face him and pressing you against the wall.

"Yes, fuck you!" you argue back while he pulls your skirt down and lifts your leg to hold it at his waist, his member already pulled out since he was jerking off while eating you out.

"Oh really?" he got closer to your face, your lips seconds from connecting.

"Yes really."

"Say it again." He says as he sinks himself into your pussy, you bit your lips while your head drops back on the wall.

"Nghh fuck!" You say, he starts to fuck you faster, pulling your leg so he can hit nice and deep in you.

"That's not what you said, say what you said again baby." Wooyoung would say to taunt you, he knew you were too fucked out to even think, liquor makes him a horny little meanie. He would sit there and fuck you in the doorway then when he finished he would have you suck his dick in the hall way to "Clean up the mess you made on his cock", then he would fuck you again on the bed to "make sure you dream of him."

Jongho:

He is like a well-oiled machine, both just came back from a company dinner and all he wants to do is keep fucking you and fucking you and fucking you. His hips never stop pounding into you and when you would slump over he would laugh at you with that toothy smile and say "Aww are you really tired already, did I go too far?" he tried to make it seem like he was being genuine and checking on you but you knew he wasn't, he was mocking you and you were a prideful drunk so you two would be going until one of you tapped out.

He would drill you from the back in collapsed doggy because your legs just couldn't hold you anymore, the loud clapping noises filling the room while his hands tightly gripped your hips so you couldn't run, you had to take his thrust full on. You could barely even think anymore, your swollen pussy and fucked out brain was no match for Jongho. Usually, his libido isn't that high, and sex was good but after cumming twice he would be tapped but when he is drunk all bets are off, he has the stamina of a race horse and fucked like one too. He would love just watching you try your best to keep up with him, he got a good laugh out of how surprised you would get every time. He knew your body would be tired so he used his strength to flip, bend and twist you in any way he wanted, you became his little fuck toy and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't the sexiest thing in the world, though he would be demolishing your pussy he always checked on you and made sure you drank water throughout the process, you're favorite part was the praise he gives you for not tapping out.

"My good little baby, taking me so well, aren't you?" he would ask, your invisible dog tail would wag while you arched your back to take more of him. Though you wouldn't tap out he knew not to push you too much and you eventually clean you both up and cuddle into bed while you talked shit.

"See I told you you would tap first!" you would taunt.

"Mhm you sure did, I can't keep up with you Y/N" he would patronize you.

"Nope! Now to enjoy my victory cuddles and sleep."

He cuddles into you and kisses your forehead. "Good night, Y/N"

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sutorus · 7 months

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imagine having a sleep over at megumis and toji decides to steal you away once he finally passes out 😮‍💨 his shirts and sweats probably have cigarettes burns in them

you gave me sm toji brain rot

-🫧 anon

we gave each other toji brainrot anon 🤝 kind of a part 2 to the kinktober toji fic

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. f! reader, unprotected, mild daddy kink, some anal play, degradation, toji being toji

you’re shifting on your feet, lips trapped between your teeth as you ring the doorbell. you’re early to the sleepover by a full hour.

you don’t know what you want to expect. if it’s toji, sitting on the couch, glass of some cheap shit on the armrest and hand tucked into his sweats.

or if it’s megumi, waiting at the door, bowl of popcorn by his hip and tv blasting because his dad isn’t home to scowl about the noise.

megumi does open the door. and toji does sit there.

and somehow, that’s the least likely, worst case scenario.

“hey,” megumi greets you, stepping aside to let you in.

toji doesn’t spare you a glance, so you let your eyes travel all over him. his bare feet propped up on the center table, his arm behind his head and fingers scratching his hair.

megumi notices you looking and — thankfully — only clicks his tongue, believing you’re just as irritated at his father’s presence as he is.

and are you? you’re unsure.

you don’t know how to face toji. you don’t know how to interact with him anymore, if you even should.

you sleep over at megumi’s house all the time, but right now you suddenly forgot how it even goes. do you take your shoes off at the genkan? do you leave your bag by the door?

you decide to just walk to megumi’s room wordlessly, taking the long way behind the couch as to not block toji’s view from the tv.

this doesn’t go unnoticed by either men.

megumi follows you inside, closing the door behind him and plopping down on his bed.

“so are we starting with the first movie?” he flips his laptop open. “it’s the best one, anyway.”

“uh, yeah, sure,” you sit down beside him hesitantly.

you’re just now noticing how much megumi and toji look alike and it’s freaking you out.

“what the fuck is wrong with you today?” blunt as always. blunt as toji.

“huh? dude, chill,” you lie down, placing the laptop on your lap. megumi eyes you suspiciously before lying down beside you. “i just didn’t sleep much last night.”

“right,” he says, skeptical but disinterested, and presses play.

every minute of the movie is torture — on the screen and in your head.

around the beginning of saw iii, megumi orders pizza. him, you and toji eat in silence.

complete silence. he doesn’t even look at you.

why isn’t he looking at you? you’re in your pajamas already. no bra. short shorts. you thought you’d both established that that worked on him.

toji wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gets up, with a grunted clean up when you’re done.

it’s so frustrating, the total lack of attention, and you’re starting to get pent up. settling back down next to megumi to watch fucking saw iv and hear him question the viability of each trap drives you crazier by the minute.

when you finally tuck in for the night, you’re anything but relaxed.

what happened to “you have one more hole for me to wreck don’t you”? toji’s so full of shit, probably too drunk to even get it up tonight anyway.

it’s those angry thoughts that lull you to slumber, regret settling deep in your gut for having ever let that horrible man inside you.

not long after you fall asleep, however, you’re stirred awake, a soft, sake-soaked breeze blowing over your face.

you crack one eye open, no surprise in your gaze because who else could it be.

toji’s smirking, crouched down, eyes searching all over your sleeping form. it sends a chill down your spine.

what do you want, you mouth to him, anger persisting against the arousal already starting to build within you.

his grin grows wider, wilder. he gets up slowly and beckons with two fingers, and like the silly fucking slut you are, you follow.

you — not toji — make sure to gingerly close the door to megumi’s room before you turn around to face him. or rather, face his chest, the flimsy cloth littered with cigarette burns that covers those muscles you finally got to know so well.

“hello?” is all you can manage to say.

he loves your indignation, loves the brattiness, will love to fuck it out of you tonight, too.

“what, don’t want it?”

you roll your eyes.

“you had to wait until megumi’s right there to say you wanna do it?” your focus wavers as he runs his hands up and down your waist. “you couldn’t have pulled me aside before?”

toji presses his leer to the side of your throat, caging you in against the wall right by the door. you let out a soft moan, hands already reaching for his arms.

“had to make sure you two weren’t gettin’ it on,” he growls into the crock of your neck, making you grimace in disgust. “i don’t like to share my toys, y’know.”

“ew, he’s your son,” the irony in your statement isn’t lost on you, the person you should actually be ewing at.

you push him away and the feeling of his abs under your palms is enough to break any rest of resolve you had in you.

toji lets out a low, satisfied laugh, throwing his head back. “exactly why i worry.”

soon enough, and unsusprisingly, he has you bent over the kitchen island, pussy stretched out and dripping on his thick cock.

“shut the fuck up,” he keeps saying when you moan, only to fuck you harder and faster and deeper.

the furniture is digging into your belly, your forearms skidding on the top. you whine softly, angling your hips so he can hit that one spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“ohhh yeah, fuck back into me,” he grabs your hair and you let out a yelp, punished with a blow to your ass. still, you do as you’re told, the sounds of your skin slapping against his growing louder, quicker.

“t-touch me, touch me, make me cum,” you beg in a desperate whisper, head straining in his grip.

toji laughs, dragging his cock out of you slowly before plunging all the way back in.

“shut up, slut,” and god, why is that so hot to you, “last i checked you weren’t in a position to make demands.”

you whimper, trying to snake a hand down your clit to do it yourself.

suddenly, toji stops.

“ah, that reminds me,” he slowly, torturously slowly to make you feel every inch of him, pulls out of you completely. then he pokes your asshole with the head of his cock.

“no,” you say in a panicked breath, trying to turn around in his grip. “no, no, not today, definitely not right now no—“

“shhh, fuck, be quiet,” he wraps his entire forearm around your throat and brings your body into his chest, nibbling at your jaw. “you’re gonna like it.”

“i don’t want to,” it’s one last attempt, the most honest one you have. toji likes fucking with you, flustering you, that much is obvious.

but is he seriously— and without any prep, too?—

he chuckles low in his throat, right into your ear.

“then ask me not to.”

he slides the tip back into your cunt and you relax a little, even moving your hips back and forth like hey! look how good my pussy is! can you just stay in it and not ruin my ass please!

“please don’t fuck my ass,” you try.

“hmm,” he hums, sliding his cockhead out. then back in. then back out.

“please, toji, don’t fuck my asshole tonight,” you clench around him, trying to take more of his length inside.

“not good enough, whore,” he slams all way back in, shoving your body into the sharp wood and making you wail. toji starts moving, fucking little noises out of you with every thrust. “say, ‘no please daddy not there, not my little asshole!’”

you let out a long, pitchy whine, clawing at the arm around your neck.

“do it or else,” toji gathers up some wetness at your entrance with your thumb and presses it to your asshole, rubbing little wet circles.

“fuck you, toj—ahh,” his finger slips inside and you clench down hard. “please! please daddy not there, not my—“

toji cackles, fucking you in earnest now, plowing every word and thought out of your brain. you’re grunting with the force of his thrusts, finding purchase in the edges of the kitchen island, knuckles turning white.

“such a good little girl, aren’t ya,” he says into the shell of your ear, snaking a hand around your hip to rub your puffy clit.

you throw your head back onto his shoulder, legs shaking in between his. “ahhh, fuck, d-daddy—“

your orgasm washes over you so forcefully that you feel like folding in two, going limp in toji’s grip as he chases his own.

he buries a few low, animalistic grunts into your hair before he’s filling up your cunt, aborted little thrusts pushing out staccato breaths from his lips.

he releases his grip on you, cock still spurting out the rest of his load.

once he pulls out, toji keeps feeding his cum into your pussy over and over, telling you to watch the floors before you have to limp your way to the bathroom to clean up.

you do the best you can without taking a shower, body so thoroughly exhausted that you don’t even know if you’d have the energy for one.

right now, all you want is to plop down on a soft surface and get some much needed sleep, feeling actually satisfied.

when you leave the bathroom, you’re faced with a groggy, disheveled megumi standing by his bedroom door.

your eyes quickly scan your surroundings.

toji is nowhere to be seen.

megumi’s eyes reveal nothing, none of the thoughts that might be going through his head right now.

as for you, there’s only one word bouncing around inside your skull:

fuck.

a/n sorry again

#✩.asks #✩.toji #✩.bsf’s dad!toji #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji reader smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro reader #toji x you #dilf toji #toji x female reader #✩.🫧 anon

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heartchoi · 9 months

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OKOK BUT IMAGINEE y/n & txt r having a trip and they make a rest stop. n everyone leaves to go inside the gas station convenience store except for y/n and yj, and bc y/n's so needy they end up doing it BUT what they dont know is that soobin was in the car the whole time 🤭

this would be kind of funny poor soobin

"we'll be back!" taehyun calls out. "text if you need a snack or something!" beomgyu adds, closing the door shut as the three youngest leave.

"mhmm!" yeonjun responds, his smile a bit too wide, eyes barely focusing. how could he? you've been palming him for what felt like forever. he doesn't know how they didn't notice, and if they did, he's damn lucky they didn't bring it up. he would’ve died right then and there.

but now, you have the whole car to yourselves, and there should be enough time to relieve yourselves, right?…

soobin barely notices the car rocking, his drowsy eyes blearily opening in the back seats. he’s laying down in the very back of the car, god bless the fact taehyun rented a huge suv. then he feels the way the car is moving slightly, but not enough for them to still be driving. his brain is too fuzzy with sleep to really understand what’s happening, until—

“f-fuck, jjunie, please, too fast!” you whine, hands stabilizing themselves on the tinted windows, breath fogging it up as yeonjun’s cock ruins you from behind. yeonjun doesn’t reply to you, simply gripping your hips harder and ramming into you slightly faster.

fuck. soobin wants to dissolve into the seats beneath him. he really does. hell, he doesn’t even know where they are, but now he’s stuck in a car with you two fucking, and he’s damn sure the other three aren’t there because they most definitely are not voyeurs.

the worst part is, he can feel his dick twitching in his pants.

“fucking slut. had to tease me until we got to rest stop, huh? practically begging me for you to take you right there, huh?” yeonjun hissed, his pace unrelenting. you struggle to reply, you haven’t been fucked this good in a while. there’s nothing you can do but clench down on his cock, tightening your walls as he groans loudly.

soobin peeks his eyes through the gaps in between the row of seats, catching a glimpse of the way both of your bodies connect, wet cock slamming into your hole, slight bruises forming on your hips from how hard he’s holding you. you both barely even decided to take off your clothes, your shirt riding up to expose your chest while yeonjun has his pants at his thighs. soobin has to stuff his fingers into his mouth to keep himself from making noises, his cheeks reddening from just how hot he finds this. maybe he’s the voyeur, holy fuck.

slowly, his free hand slinks down to unzip his jeans, pulling down his boxers to reveal his cock slightly, his tip just beginning to drip precum as he strokes himself to the sight. you both just look too good, he can never watch regular porn after this.

the sounds of skin slapping and wetness fill the car, and the three of you won’t last long, it seems.

bonus:

“we��re back!” kai cheers. his hands are full of plastic bags full of snacks, beomgyu and taehyun holding cold slushies right behind him.

both you and yeonjun greet the three, beads of sweat lightly beading the top of your foreheads and a little out of breath.

“is soobin still asleep?” beomgyu inquires, looking into the back row. yeonjun stills visibly, beginning to turn pale. “he’s probably dead asleep, that giant.” taehyun jokes, seeing as his form is wrapped up in a blanket, facing away from everyone else, eyes closed.

truly, he’s just recovering from his orgasm and hiding the way he has nut all over his pants and stomach. but he’s also thinking about whether or not if he should bring up what just happened to you guys, and if you’re willing, if he could join.

#txt smut #yeonjun smut #soobin smut #txt hard thoughts #yeonjun hard thoughts #soobin hard thoughts #🍒.yeonjun #🍒.soobin #🍒.asks #🍒.anon

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luvt0kki · 3 months

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005 | the morning after

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

I can't stop and look the other way 'Cause I know what could be, babe And you never feel the same You'd be thinkin' 'bout it every day Don't believe in fairytales, but we got our fantasies

🎧: you right - Doja Cat

previous | 005| next

pairings: ot8 x f!reader

w.c : 8.4k ( sorry for any errors)

cw: mature, ,minors do not interact, nsfw, reader is afab, slow burn, polyamory, smut , peeping Tom! Wooyoung, masturbation, footjob, footsies, edging, some fluff ig, orgasm denial

REMINDER: my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n : CHAPTER 5! I FINALLY WROTE A VERSION OF CHAPTER 5 that I LIKE!!! Sorry for the long wait. I really hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. I AWAIT YOUR REACTIONS HEHEH. make sure to leave comments about your thoughts and reactions! You can do this in my askbox too huhu!

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE, OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

Seonghwa flinched at the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen. He couldn’t even sip his morning coffee at the clamor in the kitchen, the usual cozy peace he had before everyone else woke up was disrupted. Usually, the chef was quiet, gilding around the kitchen with ease as he made breakfast for the crew.

But today, he was…off.

Seonghwa placed his coffee mug back on the dining table before turning his gaze to the kitchen, seeing the cause of the noise appearing frustrated yet spaced out at the same time. Some kind of weird autopilot.

What was up with him?

Usually, the vice-captain would ask what’s wrong but Wooyoung’s knitted brows and expression of deep yet stressful contemplation made him believe it was best to just observe him and figure it out for himself. If Wooyoung was troubled, he knew that he could always come to any of them.

When the other members gathered except for you and Yeosang, they too quickly noticed the change in mood of their playful, energetic chef.

“What’s up with him?” Jongho asked, frowning as Wooyoung hissed when he held the skillet the wrong way. He’s never this reckless in his domain, his sacred kitchen.

Seonghwa only sighed in response, crossing his legs with poise and shaking his head.

Yunho, the gentle soul that he was still decided to check on Wooyoung, hopefully, his calm gleeful energy could make the younger member feel better.

“You okay there, Woo?” He called over from the table.

Not looking up from the pans on the stove, he responded, more like muttered his response. “M’fine.”

What a lie. He wasn’t fine they all could catch the vibe from him.

They all exchanged glances and kept their mouths shut, letting Wooyoung serve this morning's breakfast while the rest of them carried on as if nothing was wrong.

“Go on,” Wooyoung huffed, taking his seat at the table and picking up a fork. “Eat up.”

Was all he said to them and nothing more. He was quiet but he listened to their conversation, Mingi stared at him long wondering what exactly it was that was bothering him.

“Morning,” Yeosang’s deep voice chimed warmly. Wooyoung didn’t raise his head at his best friend’s voice and Hongjoong narrowed his eyes a little at his lack of interaction.

Right after his arrival, Jongho let out a low whistle as the last person to arrive at the dining table finally appeared.

“You look very pretty this morning, princess.” Jongho complimented, drinking in your delightful appearance. “That’s a new number I haven’t seen before.”

San glanced at Wooyoung sat beside him who was staring really hard into his bowl of fried rice.

“She looks good enough to eat,” Mingi tilted his head, getting a good look at his baby

“Thank Yeosang for the new set.” You giggled, sauntering in with a subtle sway of your hips, knowing your lovers were enjoying your morning look.

Wooyoung, unable to hold back from looking your way, took a small peek, the promise of this ‘new set’ tempting him too easily.

The moment he did, he wished he hadn’t.

You walked to his kitchen to get yourself a cup of coffee in a new silk slip with thin straps. Different from the night before. The hem of the dress was short, way above mid-thigh, and tastefully stopping before where your thigh and ass meet. It was lined with white lace lilies that complimented the periwinkle silk. The straps were thin and he remembered the way they fell off your shoulders last night. Flowing as you stride past them was a sheer white lace robe, draped over your shoulders and floating dreamily with your movements.

Like all the men on that table, they all watched you as you poured yourself a cup of coffee, admiring the teasing view of your backside.

“Thanks, Yeosang.” Mingi bit his lip, eying the curve of your ass covered by the pretty silk.

Wooyoung immediately looked away and continued to eat blankly as you joined the table, sitting across from him.

How lucky was he?

Mingi draped his arm on the back of your chair as if to mark his territory to Wooyoung, unaware that he had seen you and Yeosang fucking last night.

“You look very beautiful, dove.” Seonghwa smiled softly and you could see how his eyes were blown with desire as he took in your lingerie-clad body.

“She looks like a bride the morning after her honeymoon,” Yunho joked, eying your exposed collarbones and the lace that lined the low neckline of the silk dress.

“Don’t give Mingi any ideas,” Jongho tutted, taking a bite of his meal and looking around the table, stopping at San who looked at you intensely. “Hey, San, snap out of it. I’m going to beat all of you to it.” He challenged them with confidence.

“Shut the f—,” Mingi was about to cuss the youngest out in banter but Hongjoong cut him off.

“When did you get her that, Yeosang?”

“When we stopped at Jupiter. It’s from a boutique that creates lingerie pieces for noblewomen, and princesses and provides the finest silk for the Queen Mother’s dresses.”

Wooyoung gripped his fork tight. The silk was from his home planet? He knows of the boutique Yeosang talked about and he knew how that expensive fabric felt in his fingers. He wondered how it would feel if he had the chance to caress your curves and feel the silk that kissed your skin.

“I told Yeosang I don’t need such things but he insists on his gift.” You leaned your head against Mingi.

“His gift to you is my gift,” The gunner grinned, placing a hand on your bare thigh and creeping it up high and so dangerously close to your heat, his smirk only grew when you didn’t stop him. Before he could feel what he hoped was a matching pair of silk underwear, you tapped his hand away, the big man pouting his full lips.

“Behave.” You told him before feeling San’s gaze on you. Your heart melted at the longing look in his eyes, round and sparkling. You smiled softly at him and let the slipper on your right foot slip off before running it along San’s calves, his ears immediately turning pink as he looked at you wide-eyed.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you turned your attention to Wooyoung, who was very quiet.

“Morning, Woo.”

Wooyoung clenched his jaw. His name sounded even sweeter on your tongue today.

“Uh, morning.” He managed to say only giving you a quick glance and a smile which made you pout a little.

He couldn’t look you in the eye. Did he feel that guilty? About last night? Maybe you should confront him… like Yeosang said.

“Yeo?”

“Yes, my love?”

You raised your cheek from the warm chest it had rested upon. You had been listening to his heartbeat while he combed his fingers through your hair and petted you gently.

“Wooyoung…” you murmured softly, completely relaxed on top of him while his other hand traced the curve of your back.

“I just made love to you and you’re thinking of Wooyoung?” He jested, pinching your side.

“It’s not that…” you softly tapped his chest at his teasing. “He saw us.”

Yeosang was silent for a bit but was quick to reply with such nonchalance. “And?”

“He saw us.” You looked him in the eyes unable to stop the urge to trace your fingers along his pretty jaw. “He was touching himself to us.” The image of Wooyoung by the door, lips parted and panting quietly, his eyes hazy as he looked at you with such want, flashed before your mind.

“Oh? He was?” His tone was straight, unbothered by the fact.

“You never mentioned that he was a little pervert.”

“I thought your interaction in the club told you that already. He was coming onto you very strong. Bill after bill to see the heaven between your thighs.”

“Fair enough.” You chuckled, kissing the tip of his gorgeous nose. “He doesn’t know…doesn’t he?”

“Apparently not.” Yeosang kept his eyes on your face as if he was looking upon you for the very first time and was marveling at the beauty before him. “But he has picked up on the way we all look at you.”

“And what way is that?” You cupped his cheek, your thumb caressing his cheekbone while looking into his pretty bright eyes.

Yeosang sighed deeply with a smile that could win anyone's heart even the Gods perhaps. He wrapped his arms around you and you melted against him, your cheek pressed once more to his chest as he kissed your forehead. He didn’t have to say it for you to know.

“What do we do about Woo?” You murmured after a comfy pause.

“He’s very much attracted to you, my love. Wooyoung, despite his playful flirtatious nature and his very…colorful sexual escapades. He never ever pursues nor beds a woman who is taken. It’s a rule of his.” Yeosang explained, cuddling you, the soft sheets kissing your naked skin. “But if the woman lies that she isn’t taken, that’s not on him.”

You only hummed at the piece of information about his best friend. Wooyoung’s rule was fair enough.

“Since he was the son of a Duke, he had more freedom than I had. Whenever I’d visit, the young maids in the Jung manor changed with each return.”

You made a face, one that made the former Prince smile fondly. “It’s because he was…”

“Messing around with them, yes.” Yeosang chuckled at the memory. “One time, I had caught him in our palace grounds stables getting head from one of my mother’s handmaidens.”

“And were you some Casanova back in the day too?” You traced the line between his pecs.

“I’ve had my fair share of experiences in masquerades or in empty rooms at official balls. Nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious,” you rolled your eyes a little. “You’re only saying that because it’s what you think I might want to hear.”

“Oh darling,” he pouted his lips in jest before kissing your forehead, his hand never ceasing its caress on your naked back. “Are you jealous?”

Yeosang watched as your brows furrowed and your lips pursed. It was cute and he knew you were just going to try to deny it.

“Maybe….just a little.”

“I was jealous of you and San once.” He confessed, wanting to wipe away your anxiety masked by jealousy.

“W-what why?” You blinked up at him.

“Because you were each other’s firsts. Even though San confessed after you and Mingi got together. He was still your first. First hug. First kiss. Oh, and you’re very first.”

Your eyes widened and you immediately felt heat bloom in your cheeks. “San told you?” You murmured shyly, remembering that time. Both of you only had each other at that time and in that mission, you both believed you were going to die. Consumed with unspoken desire and love that was hidden from each other verbally, you two had gotten intimate, letting actions and your bodies express what you both felt.

“San has loved you the longest, my darling. It just took him a while and you and Mingi being together to finally get him to say it.”

Your heart felt full. It felt as if it was going to explode with all the emotions and love you had for them. “I love you, Yeosang.” You said softly, looking him in his angelic eyes. “I love all of you so very much.”

“Though all of us have our own ways of showing it, we love you too. I love you.”

You kissed his soft lips and he kissed you back, sealing the romantic moment you two shared. You giggled as you pulled away.

“Now back to our Wooyoung,” Yeosang thought of his best friend.

“Our?” You raised a brow.

“He wants you, darling.”

“Sure he wants me but he’s not mine nor am I his like I’m yours and you’re mine. He probably only wants to fuck.”

“And you’re not opposed to the idea?”

You paused, thinking of your answer even though you immediately wanted to say no, you just didn’t want to seem too eager. But you didn’t have to hide from Yeosang. Never had to.

“No, I’m not…” you sighed, feeling a little guilty as you thought about your lovers. All of them. “It’s not that all of you aren’t enough—

“I know darling,” he stopped you before you could worry and spiral. “We all have noticed the way Wooyoung acts around you. In fact, the night you returned and you and Mingi…retired for the evening, the rest of us stayed back to discuss Wooyoung when he went to bed. Assuming he did go to bed and didn’t watch you and Mingi have sex.”

You made a mental note to ask the peeping Tom if he did see you that first night before continuing to listen to Yeosang’s pretty voice.

“Wooyoung saw us and he doesn’t know that we are all your lovers.”

“God, he must think I’m cheating on Mingi or something.” You huffed, rolling off of Yeosang to lie on your back. "Or that I'm some whor-"

Yeosang shushed you shaking his head. It would hurt him deeply if that was the way you thought of yourself.

“You could either confront him and ask him what he wants from you.”

“Very straightforward,” You narrowed your eyes at him. “But your smile is telling me there is another option.”

“Or…”Yeosang grinned, propping himself to crawl on top of you, his dark locks of hair framing his handsome face. He slotted his hips between your legs as he leaned down to kiss along your collarbones while his hands caressed your sides, the silk beneath his palms smooth against your skin.“You can have some fun keeping him on his toes."

Pausing your little innocent footsie play with San, who frowned when you stopped, you decided to turn your attention to the man sitting across from you, next to your pouting lover.

Maybe giving him a hint and teasing him a bit would reassure him that you didn’t hate him or anything…and maybe push him to finally confront you or take action with his attraction for you.

“We’ll be arriving in Gevora by the morrow. As I’ve discussed with Y/N, one of the pieces of the Cromer, we’ve found out, is going to be auctioned.” Hongjoong was speaking to you as you raise your coffee cup to your lips while gliding your foot up Wooyoung’s calf. “It’s a highly private auction with wealthy attendees which also means it’s definitely—,”

“Illegal.” Jongho finished for the Captain, clicking his tongue as all of it made sense. “So what’s the plan?”

Wooyoung tensed visibly, his other leg jumping at your sudden touch, his knee banging against the underside of the table.

“You okay, Woo?” Jongho asked, raising a brow at the wide-eyed former noble.

Wooyoung finally met your gaze as they all stared at him. He was met with such a neutral expression from you as if you weren’t running your foot up his leg in a way that made shivers run down his spine and send heat straight to his groin.

“U-uh I’m fine…” he was trying to remain composed while he screamed in his head at what on earth you were doing. “Just lost in thought.” He played it off, earning a very subtle smile of approval from you as you sipped your coffee so casually.

“So what’s your plan, Captain?” You took the boys' attention from him, Hongjoong staring at you with a subtle glint in his eyes at how you effortlessly addressed him with a sultry tone.

“The good ol’ hit ‘em before they know it.” He replied, his eyes locked with yours as he knew that look you had in them all too well. That teasing yet magnetic gaze. You must be in a playful mood today. “San and Jongho will infiltrate the storage area while Y/N and Wooyoung will attend the auction to give San and Jongho enough time to retrieve it.”

“M-me?” Wooyoung stuttered, Hongjoong unaware of how your foot now brushed Woo’s inner thigh. The man in front of you swallowed the lump in his throat. What were you doing? He panicked.

“I’d send Yeosang but the attendees would know his face easily. So you’re Y/N’s lucky partner for the heist.”

“You don’t have to worry much, Woo. San and Jongho will have most of the action if things don’t go south. I’ll lead, and you,” you pressed your foot gently against Wooyoung’s hardening cock, fighting your smile at his somewhat pained yet turned-on expression. “Just follow.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, opting to give a nod of acknowledgment because if he had opened his mouth, he’d risk a very out of place sound at the breakfast table.

“Mingi will be monitoring the perimeter from the building across the venue. Ready to snipe should anyone intercept San or Jongho.”

Hongjoong went on but Wooyoung was struggling to focus. He could hear everything he was saying and he was taking note mentally of all the important details but the way your foot palmed at his painfully hard cock through his sweats was making his head spin. “Yunho will be driving the getaway van and Yeosang will bring his gear with him to hack into the security system in the van."

“And you and Hwa?” You leaned your head on Mingi’s shoulder, pressing just a little more, the perfect amount as you glide your foot against his cock. Wooyoung gripped the fabric of his sweats to ground himself. He tried to meet your eyes but you were conversing with everyone as if you weren’t giving him a fucking footjob between Yeosang and Mingi, and with San next to him.

“Hongjoong and I will take out two guards beforehand and take their uniform so that San and Jongho can easily get in.” Seonghwa answered you. “It should go pretty smoothly but we will act quickly should there be any…unexpected surprises.”

“I just hope I get to see you two in uniform,” you chuckled playfully, thinking of how lovely the sight would be. Despite the two eldest’s left behind military past, they have shared with you the official portraits of their time there. Strikingly handsome those two were. They even gave you the photographs for you to keep after they had noticed how long you stared at them in awe.

“Maybe you will,” Hongjoong smirked, winking at you playfully making you blush and laugh.

Wooyoung wondered how you were able to act like that... all effortless and pretty while you were rubbing his cock under the table. He was fighting back the urge to buck his hips into your foot for more friction. It felt good…so good. He could feel his precum dampening his boxers.

“Baby, eat something while you drink your coffee,” Mingi chided lightly, putting sweet buttered toast on your plate, berries and some cream.

You smiled at the care he was giving you, never ceasing the languid caress you were giving Wooyoung’s hard cock, and turned to Mingi. “Thank you, baby.” You tilted your chin up a little, the bigger man grinning before leaning down to peck you on the lips.

“Get a room.” Jongho fake gagged.

“Gladly,” Mingi smirked and deepened the kiss to irk the youngest even more.

Wooyoung’s cock throbbed at the sight of your plush lips against Mingi’s and the way they moved against his. You were the first to pull away, smiling so sweetly up at Mingi and pinching his cheek.

“I’ll start packing up my gear,” Yeosang announced to the group, taking his empty plate and getting up. He patted your head before discarding his plate in the sink.

“Me too.” Yunho chirped, doing the same as Yeosang.

“You guys can go ahead,” you told Hongjoong and Seonghwa who also were done with their breakfast. “Wooyoung and I will clear up.”

“Thank you, dove.” Seonghwa smiled, stacking his and Hongjoong’s plates before going about their personal schedules and preparation.

“You okay, Woo?” San suddenly asked.

“H-huh?” The man croaked out, his fist clenched tightly out of sight.

“You’re awfully quiet.” He frowned, his cat eyes trying to read his expression. “Are you in pain?”

Mingi and Jongho looked at Wooyoung worriedly while you had the audacity to pout your lips teasingly and bat your lashes at him, still rubbing his cock with your foot making the pressure in the base of his spine tightened further.

“Leg cramp.” Wooyoung shakily replied, forcing a smile. “I-I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so. This is why you should stretch after a workout. I told you ‘cool down’ is important.” San light-heartedly reprimanded, getting up and excusing himself from the breakfast table, leaving you, Woo, Mingi, and Jongho.

“What dress do you plan to wear to the bourgeois auction?” Jongho asked, sipping his coffee.

“I haven’t thought about that yet.” You hummed crossing your arms under your chest which pushed your breasts up and together, that teasing dip of cleavage along with the strokes you gave his cock, making Wooyoung’s head spin.

“How about the navy blue one?” Mingi suggested, playing with your hair as he took the last bites of his breakfast.

“That one’s too short, baby. Not very auction-y.”

“That one’s too flashy.” Jongho agreed. “It’s more of a night out dress. How about that red one?”

You glanced at Wooyoung and noticed how he was trying hard to steady his breaths in a way it was not noticeable by the other two men and you could see a vein in his neck beginning to pop out as his cock throbbed. His brows knitted together and his head was facing his lap, almost looking like he was in deep thought or trying to relax from the pain of his ‘leg cramp’.

He was close. He was so fucking close. Wooyoung hissed as he felt his climax near. All caution was ready to be thrown out the window as he reveled at your touch and the sight of you. Maybe he didn’t fucking care if he came in his boxers. How did Jongho and Mingi not even know what you were up to?

“Ohhh, that red one.” Your touch left him, the pleasure he had been feeling, that tightening sensation at the base of his spine as he got close to release, was ripped away from him.

“Fuck!” Wooyoung exclaimed, fist banging on the table making the two men look at him questioningly at his frustrated cry.

His head was thrown back at the ache of being denied climax. To the two men, it looked as if his leg cramp had gotten worse. Wooyoung leaned his elbows on the table, his hands gripping his hair as he breathed heavily. He looked through the thin curtain of his messy locks over to eyes to look at you. Your glossy lips were upturned slightly, almost tauntingly and your eyes glimmered with mischief, finding entertainment in his predicament.

“Dude, Wooyoung.” Jongho looked at him worriedly and a little confused. “You should get that leg cramp checked with Yunho if it’s that bad.”

“Yeah, we can’t have you pulling a muscle or getting cramps on the mission,” Mingi added. “You both can’t compromise your covers.”

Your legs returned to yourself and you crossed your left over your right. Will Wooyoung finally make a move after this? How far did you need to push him to finally have him confront you? How much self-control does he even have?

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, Mingi. I know you two have some preparations to do for the mission. So go ahead, and I’ll clear up here while Wooyoung…rests.” You told the two men, smiling at them reassuringly.

“But I kinda do wanna get a room with you though,” Mingi murmured, eying you with desire. “Just a little y’know…quickie.”

“I thought you were back to baseline Mingi libido.”

“God.” Jongho groaned getting up and grabbing Mingi by the ear, completely unafraid of the much taller man. “You’re a fucking horn dog man. It may not seem like it outside but it’s 9 am in the fucking morning. Keep your wandering hands to yourself.”

Mingi’s eyes rounded in a childlike way, turning to you as Jongho was dragging him out of the kitchen.

“I’ll just clean up here and you'll have me soon enough.” You blew him a kiss, letting Jongho and his god-like strength pull him away.

You were amused they didn’t catch on…did they really buy the leg cramp?

Once they were out of earshot, you turned to Wooyoung.

He was slumped against his chair, finally letting himself breathe. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears and his whole body was hot with need. Struggling to compose himself, he looked at you.

His eyes had a hazy look in them, it was the same gaze you saw last night. His pupils were blown with lust, his cheeks were flushed and his lips parted as he softly panted.

Wooyoung stared. He blinked a couple of times to make his eyes focus on you. A part of him was annoyed that you just looked so neutral as if everything was okay. You had that small smile on your lips whenever you two spoke and that gentle captivating gaze that made one feel that what they had to say was very important to you. But right now, that gentle demure look taunted him.

“Your leg cramp must be really bad,” you finally spoke. “You should relax, Woo.” You got up and started to stack the empty plates on one another. “I’ll go put these in the sink and wash them, okay?” You smiled sweetly, reaching across the table to get his plate as well, knowing that it would the man a view of your breasts against the lace lingerie when you dipped forward. Will he finally snap?

While you walked over to the kitchen, Wooyoung glanced down at his lap, his painfully hard cock creating a tent in his cotton sweats. He was irritated. You had the fucking audacity to smile and act as if nothing happened? After whatever the fuck you just pulled?

You observed him from the kitchen, waiting for him to make his move but the man just sat there. Rolling your eyes, you made your way to him, the soft patter of your feet on the cold floor not making him look at you.

You’ll make him look at you.

“Hey.”

Wooyoung let out a shaky breath as something soft and warm pressed against his throbbing cock, ripping him from his thoughts and making him aware of the body perched on his lap. His eyes were wide as he met yours, confusion and surprise in them when you rested your hands on his shoulders.

“Look at me.” You whispered, running a gentle trail down the back of his neck.

“What are you—,” he started to say, trying to ignore the fact you were straddling his lap with your panty-clad pussy pressed against his cock.

“It hurts doesn’t it?” You took one of his hands, bringing it up to your chest and resting it atop your breast, making him cup the soft flesh.

“Why did you do that?” He asked, his other hand gripping your hip, using it to ground himself. His mind was screaming at the sudden closeness. The heat of your body beneath his palm, your sweet scent filling up his senses and the fact you were even touching him was making him want to really feel you, all of you.

“Do what?” You purred, bringing the hand that was on your breast away from your chest and letting his fingertips feel your warm lips.

“You know what I’m talking about Y/N.” He watched your every move, shamefully anticipating what you would do next.

“Do I?” You teased, bringing his thumb to brush your lips and before he could say another word, you took the digit in your mouth, sucking softly at it and swirling your tongue around slowly.

“F-fuck,” Wooyoung muttered breathily. His mind went straight to imagining what it’d be like to have your lips around his cock right now.

You released his thumb with a soft pop, his eyes on your pink lips. “Did you like it?” You asked him, running your hands up his chest.

What were you referring to? The way you were touching him under the table? Cause if he was going to be completely honest, he did like it. He was annoyed that you edged him but he fucking loved it. Or…was it about last night?

“You could’ve gotten caught.” He didn’t move his hands from your hips. A part of him was still unsure whether he should cross the line despite you having acted as if that line didn’t exist.

“Me? I hope you mean you, Woo.” You giggled, tracing his jaw. “Leg cramp? I guess that was believable. I mean the boys bought it. Want me to make it better?” You cooed, slowly rolling your hips forward, dragging your clothed pussy against the length of his cock, earning the reaction you wanted from him.

He shivered and moaned softly.

“I didn’t let you finish, did I?” You kissed his neck, the heat of your lips making his hips buck involuntarily. You clicked your tongue. “Behave, Woo.”

Wooyoung glanced at the doorway, anxious that someone might walk in on you two. Why were you doing this?

“Answer me.” You whispered, your voice sweet like honey as you stopped moving, giving him nothing once more.

“Y-you didn’t.” He breathed out, gripping your hips fighting the urge to guide them against his cock.

“Good boy,” you slowly rolled your hips again, finding yourself growing wet at the hardness of his cock. He was so stiff. Maybe you did feel just a little bit bad that you didn’t let him cum. “But you’re not that good aren’t you?”

“H-huh?” Was all he could manage to say, too distracted and drunk at the feeling of your hips grinding your core unto his cock. The friction sent swift shocks of pleasure throughout his body.

“Don’t act dumb, Woo.” Your soft warm breath was against his ear. His heart pounded strongly in his chest as it dawned on him that you were talking about how you had caught him watching you and Yeosang last night.

Fuck.

This was your way of confronting him about it? Having him wrapped around your finger by turning him on, teasing him to no end, and torturing him with the very thing he wanted most, you.

“I-I’m sorry,” he croaked out, moaning when you licked a stripe along his neck.

“Are you really?” Your voice dipped low, one hand that had been resting on his shoulder moving down to the waistband of his sweats.

“Y/N, we shouldn’t.” In his own head, you two really shouldn’t. “Y-Yeosang—fuck.” You freed his cock from his pants and boxers, his hard length slapping against his stomach.

You bit your lip as you glanced down while you had been kissing along his jaw, the sight of the pink angry and leaking tip making you grow wetter.

“Yes. Me and Yeo.” You softly placed your fingertip on the tip, mouth watering at the precum that was leaking out and spreading the slick substance all over the head of his cock. “You’re a little pervert aren’t you?” You wrapped your hand around his length to have a feel of him. He was hot and heavy within your enclosed palm, and thick. “Did you like watching Yeo fuck me, Woo?”

You squeezed his cock gently, his head following forward and leaning on your chest as he moaned. “I did. Fuck. I did. Y/N please.”

Fuck it. He swore to himself. Fuck it all. He needed to cum, he needed you to do something. Anything. His cock was painfully hard and the unmoving touch of your hand was driving him crazy.

“I like it when you’re honest.” You hummed with a smile, getting up. Wooyoung’s hands gripped your hips in protest, feeling crazed at the thought of you leaving him high and dry again.

But you didn’t leave.

You perched yourself on the edge of the table you cleared on your own. Your hands pressed against the surface behind you, leaning on them.

“If you answer me honestly, I’ll let you cum.” You told him with a smile while batting your pretty lashes at him.

God, he just wanted to fall on his knees and kiss along your leg and worship every part of you.

Wooyoung swallowed thickly as he nodded, wincing a little as the cold draft kissed his bare cock.

“Do you hear me and Mingi fuck?” The first question of your little interrogation.

Maybe if he wasn’t so on edge and horny, he would’ve held back and lied.

Shakily, he answered, “Yes.”

You hummed as you nodded at his response, his eyes widening when you pinched the skirt of your lingerie and hiked it up high, giving him a glimpse of your matching panties.

“Do you touch yourself when you hear us?” Your second question.

“Yes.”

“Show me.”

Without any shame and his eyes focused on you, your magnetic eyes drawing him in your gaze, he wrapped his hand around his cock, an action all too familiar from the fantasizing about you all this time.

You hummed seductively and with his eyes on you, you did what you had done the very first night you two met. You brought your hand to your collarbone, tracing along it, his eyes following before you led them along your shoulder, slowly and agonizingly pushing the thin strap over the edge of your shoulder. The top hem dropped slightly, showing him more of your skin beneath the lingerie, the silk clinging to the curve of your breasts.

His hand moved along his cock, slowly, doing as you said, finding no relief from it at all. Not when you had pressed your cunt against it and wrapped your own hand around him just moments ago.

You licked your lower lip, adoring the sight of Wooyoung touching himself.

“Did you ever watch Mingi and I?” You followed up your next question. “Don’t move your hand too fast. We’re not yet done.”

Wooyoung slowed his hand down, still slumped against his chair but languidly stroking his cock.

“I did.” He admitted quickly, awaiting your next move to award his honesty.

You bunched the fabric of your lingerie to your waist, slowly parting your legs to show him your matching underwear. “When?”

Wooyoung bit his lip at the sight of your clothed cunt. Was your pretty pussy really on his cock a while ago?

He breathed out shakily, the stimulation of his cock in his own hand not enough to make him cum. “The first night you returned on this ship.”

“Get up.” You instructed him. “Come to me.”

Wooyoung let go of his cock and without any thought, walked up to you, now standing between your parted thighs.

You hooked your leg around his waist as you chuckled. “Closer.”

“Y/N…I’m sorry.” He said again, letting your hands guide his in where he could touch you. Despite the situation, he didn’t feel he had the right to touch you as he wanted or as he pleased.

“You must’ve tortured yourself,” you sweetly cooed, placing one of his hands on your hip before cupping his cheek, your thumb caressing his cheekbone. “Just watching from afar. Not able to touch me. Is that what you want? Do you want to touch me too?”

Too? Did you think of him touching you? Has the idea of being with him crossed your mind like his mind did?

Your voice was void of the sternness it had when you had been interrogating him. It was now sweet and inviting, gentle even?

“I’ve been wanting to touch you since the night we first met.” He answered, the very honest reply taking you aback and making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh, Woo,” you murmured softly, bringing closer til the underside of his cock was against your clothed core again. “If you wanted me, you should’ve just said so.”

What did you mean? He couldn't have you in the first place because you were someone else's to hold.

Why was your heart melting so easily for him? You had been sure what you had felt for Wooyoung and what he felt for you was nothing but desire. Just lust. And yet, you were being as sweet as you were with all your lovers.

“Y/N…”He squeezed your hips, his forehead resting atop the crown of your own head, getting a whiff of the scent of your shampoo. He needed to fucking cum. It was taking everything in him right now to not hump his cock against your clothed heat. “Please.”

“I like it when you beg.” You softly whispered before leaning back and propping yourself on your elbows, his eyes raking you up and down your body. “Since you were so honest….” He watched as your hand guided his cock this o where you wanted him.

His breath hitched when you slipped his cock beneath your silk panties, the smooth fabric making him shiver. His cock throbbed when he realized the silk was slightly damp and slick.

“You can’t put it in though.” You told him, guiding the tip of his cock along your slit coating him with your wetness.

Wooyoung stared at where you two were touching. You were moving his cock head between your plush pussy lips and a part of him could’ve died at the way you softly moaned when you circled his tip around your clit.

Was this really happening?

He was snapped from his thoughts when your hand left his cock, your silk panties softly smacking against his length.

His cock was between your silk underwear and your bare heat. Fuck. Was he dreaming? He stared at the shape of his length beneath the fabric. Something about the sight was so sinfully pleasing to his eyes.

Placing his hands over your hips with his thumbs pressing into your inner thighs, he slowly moved his hips forward and back, his cock slotted between your lower lips.

You softly moaned as his length rubbed your clit. Languidly, taking his sweet time and drinking in the sight and feeling of his cock on your pussy, Wooyoung didn’t care that he wasn’t inside you. This was just as good. In fact, better than he could ever imagine.

With his thumb, he pressed his length against you a little bit more, applying pressure on your clit and making you whimper. Fuck. Hearing you like this was better than from afar. His eyes were glued to how his cock pushed against the fabric of your underwear, bulging against it and slowly it became more sheer as his precum and your wetness mixed together.

"Woo,” you moaned so sweetly, gentle strong shocks of pleasure rolling through your body.

He moved his hips a little faster, making your hips wriggle in his hold and moan again. Eventually, the sliding of his cock against your wet folds made soft obscene slick sounds. Only you two could hear it.

“Fuck, you feel so good against me.” Wooyoung groaned softly, his core growing hotter at the fact your cunt was drooling all over his cock. He sped up just a little bit more, making the two of you moan in bliss as your clit got stimulated by his hot and heavy length.

The sight of his pink tip faintly shown through the damp wet patch on your underwear was something he wished he could take a picture of for memory. Wooyoung panted. He wanted you so bad. Every sigh and sound of pleasure from your lips caused by him, made him fall even more for you.

“Don’t hold back, Woo.” You told him, softly yelping when his cock rubbed your clit a certain way making your thighs shake. “I-,” you began shakily, lying back down fully on the table, the delicious feeling of his cock making you fall apart so easily. “I want you to cum.”

“Fuck. Don’t say things like that,” he groaned, rutting his hips at just the right pace.

“Make a mess, Woo. I don’t care.” You bucked your hips upwards wanting to feel your own release.

“Fuck it.” He hissed, continuing to fuck against your panties and cunt surprisingly passionately.

You whimpered and slid your hands over your body, the movement making his eyes snap away briefly from where you two were touching. One of your hands softly wrapped around his wrist while the other cupped and squeezed your right breast. You were driving him crazy.

Wooyoung’s breathing grew erratic as that coil in the base of his spine tightened further and further. The slick wet sounds of your pussy along with your soft whimpers and moans egged him on, and he began to swear under his breath.

He can’t believe this was happening. Your moans grew higher in pitch and breathier.

“Oh my god, Woo, please.” Fuck. You sounded so sweet and perfect begging.

“I’ve got you—f-fuck, fuck, fuck,” he slowly began to lose himself, his hips moving on their own as he chased his release, the increasing speed bringing you close to the edge.

You moaned his name again. Something he thought he would never ever hear. Now that he has, he just knew it was going to haunt him forever til he can have you again.

You cried out as you came, covering your mouth with your hand as you whined at how he was still going, watching his groomed brows knit together and his eyes blink blearily down at you. His hair was a perfect swoop of mess on his head and as he reached his climax, his beautiful jaw tightened while a vein in his neck began to bulge.

He looked so handsome above you and something about the way he looked at you, made you feel something bloom and flutter in your belly.

“Ah!” A broken gasp and cry left his pink parted lips. His hips stilled, completely pressed against yours as he finally, finally, came. Hot spurts of his cum seeped through your underwear and dripped down and along your pussy, making you moan at the warmth of his release.

His mind was blank as he came, his eyes processed the sticky mess of his cock in your panties and the disheveled pretty undone mess you were on the dining table. You were panting softly at your own high, your chest rising up and down, making him stare at your breasts for a bit. Your nipples were perked and poking through the silk, and if the hem fell a little bit more he could’ve seen your pretty peaks. His eyes then moved to your pussy. He couldn’t help but hook his finger at the fabric and move it aside, still keeping his cock rested against your mound.

If he had asked…would you let him take a picture? Because the pornographic sight before him was something he wanted to imprint in his mind forever.

Wooyoung never thought that he would ever, ever, see this. His thick white cum dripped down your pink pussy, and some of it slipped over your entrance making it look like he had cum inside of you. Grabbing his cock, he moved his cum around your pussy with the tip making your hips shake at the added stimulation from the high you were still in.

This was dirty.

You propped yourself up on your elbows once more and reached down to your core. Your fingers dipped between your folds and you felt your walls squeeze around nothing at his sticky hot cum.

“You came so much…” you thought out loud, your voice slowly bringing Wooyoung back to earth.

You pressed the pad of your pointer finger against your thumb and rubbed it against one another, feeling the wet slippery mess of his cum, Wooyoung watching you hypnotically. Feeling his eyes follow your every move once more, you watched him as he watched you. He has always been watching you. But this time, you knew.

You brought your cum stained fingers to your lips and licked your digits, making Wooyoung’s mouth part just a little as a shaky breath left him. You hummed at the taste of him and it didn’t help that after you did that you met his eyes, and smirked.

“You’re really going to be the death of me, you know that.” He leaned his hands on the edge of the table, sighing.

You sat up, softly laughing, a sound that made his heart flutter. “Don’t say that. If you die, where’s the fun in that?”

That made him laugh with you, falling into this comforting and lighthearted fuzzy atmosphere. He barely even knew you. He didn’t know much except what you allowed him to know or what the other men could say about you.

Without thinking, he gently cupped your face, catching you off guard and staring at him with surprise. He didn’t say anything. He just…gazed at you in that way.

That same feeling that bubbled inside of you whenever San’s eyes smiled with his lips when he looked at you, or when Jongho held you with such care and protection whenever you two just lay down and talked with one another…when Yunho hugged you from behind whether when you two slept or when you’re doing work. When Seonghwa reads to you with your heart against his chest and your face buried in his neck under the fluffy blanket in the common room. When Mingi smiles and lets his goofy self out around you…or when Hongjoong shows you his poems and confides with you his innermost thoughts.

That special feeling of intimacy and love…what was that delicate beginning rush doing here too?

Wooyoung hasn’t been this close to you since the kitchen strawberry incident and every time he’s able to be this up close, he’s able to confirm that you’re real. That there’s warmth in your skin and that your gorgeous smile was something he could see every day.

“I…” he began, feeling his words get stuck in his throat. He was confused. He tucked himself back into his sweats and offered you a small smile. “I’ll clean you up, yeah?”

You nodded quickly, glancing at the doorway. The double doors were still closed. Maybe you should tell him the truth. About you and Mingi, Yeosang, and everyone else.

He returned with a soft towel. "May I?”

“Mhm.”

This was Jung Wooyoung.

Despite his burning desires, he was a caring soul and a gentleman. It’s kinda cute how slow he was to catch on but you knew the truth probably crossed his mind already and he was just in denial. It’s not everyday you meet 8 people all involved with one another intimately both physically and emotionally.

A scratching sound from the intercom interrupted the budding moment between the two of you, tearing both your attentions from each other.

“Y/N,” it was Jongho’s voice. “Hongjoong is calling you. Meet him in his office.”

You sighed softly, letting Woo clean off the cum that had landed on your lower abdomen. “Duty calls.” You hopped off the table.

“You’re a busy lady.” He chuckled, whipping his head away when he saw you shimmying your underwear down. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not going to go into Hongjoong’s office with cum stained underwear, Woo.” You huffed, stepping out of the fabric.

“Going commando is the better choice?”

“It’s not nice to keep the Captain waiting if I go get changed. I’ll just chuck it in the laundry room on the way there. My basket is already there anyway.” You shrugged and then smiled at him sweetly. “I’ll see you around, peeping Tom.”

“Hey!” Wooyoung defensively yelled.

You skipped out of the dining kitchen room.

What the fuck just happened?

“Oh, you’re all here?” All the men except Wooyoung were in the captain’s office when you arrived.

“You can brief Wooyoung for me later,” Hongjoong said as you walked into the room, standing next to Jongho who was sitting on the end of the three-seater couch facing his desk.

“Did his cramp get better?” Yeosang asked, standing next to San.

“Oh? He’s fine now. Don’t worry.” You answered, looking at Seonghwa who with his hand gestured for you to come closer to the desk where a digital map was laid out before you.

“This is the perimeter of the venue. It’s some rich Lord’s mansion. Since pretty important wealthy no good doers will be there, I’m sure the security will be tight.” Hongjoong began the briefing. Your eyes followed his pretty fingers as he pointed around the map.

You leaned forward a little to get a better look.

The sound of someone choking on their water, made yours, Hongjoong, and Seonghwa’s head snap to where it came from.

The pink-haired gunner was coughing and Yunho was giggling while rubbing comforting circles on his friend’s back. While San was staring at you adorably with wide eyes and Yeosang was pressing his lips together to stop his smile.

"Sweetheart..." San's ear turned pink.

“Y/N, you’re going to kill Mingi one day,” Jongho said, his eyes focused on you, his legs spread wide on the couch as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs.

“Huh? Why?” You blinked, tilting your head.

“Don’t you think a mission briefing is the wrong time to go commando?”

Now it was the Captain and Vice Captain’s turn to look at you with pleasant surprise. You felt the heat crawl up your neck and into your face.

“Oh, I…” For Wooyoung’s sake, you’d say a little white lie. “I must’ve forgotten…oops?”

Hongjoong shook his head fighting back a smile and grabbed his captain’s coat before going to where you were stood. From behind, he wrapped his coat sleeves around your waist securely. “Naughty little kitty.” He whispered only for you to hear, giving you a subtle quick kiss on the shoulder before returning to his spot.

“Y/N is not good for Mingbido.” Yunho chuckled.

“Mingi—what?” Seonghwa made a face.

“Mingbido,” Yunho repeated. “Mingi libido.”

“God damn it.” Jongho pinched the bridge of his nose. “You guys are so lame.”

“Hey! Speak kindly to your elders!” Yunho tutted, pursing his lips cutely.

“Elders? Okay, old man.” Jongho retorted.

“Hey!”

Hongjoong sighed before calling his members to his attention while you smiled at them sweetly. As much as he loved the way you looked so pretty and lovingly at them, you all have a very important agenda to attend to.

“Men. Focus!”

- feel free to scream in my askbox about the fic I will gladly fangirl

Taglist : @endeav0rsb1tch @eastleighsblog @scarfac3 @deadgirlwalking3 @ddaeing @lexiigom @lesyeuxdeanna @ja3hwa @prettyjewel93 @dear-dreamie @ashrocker123 @kookibuns @i2hyun0 @kpopismyescape23 @alex-tinyy @hyukssunflower @honeypaintedskies @jinnieboosworld @dawn-iscozy @moonchildushine @asjkdk @voicesinmyhead-rc @not-everything-is-so-primitive @atinytinaa @songmingisthighs @sanniesbum @angellluh @teenyfinds

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#tokki;sway with me #ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez ot8 x reader #ot8 ateez x reader #mingi x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #san x reader #jongho x reader

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silentcryracha · 10 months

Text

❍ ‗ Big Boy (L. Minho) ‗ ❍

Pairing : f reader x Minho

Summary : You see your boyfriend shirtless for the first time in a while and realize he got buff in the meantime

Genre/warnings : pure smut (kinda soft bc I can't help myself), 18 + ONLY, unprotected sex, m oral receiving, reader is called kitty a few times (not big on the term but by now it's Minho's, just replace it with baby if you feel like it)

Word count : 1.5k

A/n : Inspired by this set of gifs because I'm actually on the floor as we speak, no thots just drool

ps: There could be errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The bathroom was completely steamed up as you entered, making you huff slightly.

"It's so hot in here" you said, then immediately stopping in your tracks as you took in the image of your boyfriend.

He was quietly standing in front of the full length mirror, only wearing a towel around his hips as he dried his hair with the hairdryer. He noticed you come in thanks to the reflection, turning off the noise and looking back at you.

"What was that?" his tone calm and casual, as if he wasn't looking like a literal marble sculpture come to life. You rested your hands on your hips, borderline annoyed at the fact that somehow you missed your boyfriend changing so much.

"When the hell did you get so buff?" Minho couldn't help but smirk at your words, slowly putting away the hairdryer to give you his full attention.

"Don't know, since I started working again with the PT, I guess." he spoke, walking closer like a cat that was about to catch his prey.

"You must've exploded in the last couple of weeks because there's no way that I didn't notice, with all the times that we've seen each other naked" you raised you eyebrows, placing your hands on his chest.

Minho's sly expression didn't falter, if anything became even more mischievous as your hands started to roam from his upper chest, to his shoulders, biceps.

"To be fair we were a bit too busy fucking to clearly take each other in. I've been so busy lately that we didn't even manage to take a shower together." his tone was so casual even saying the most dirty things sometimes that it made you blush.

"Whatever the reason, I won't let you out of my sight again, Lee Minho" your eyes looking up at him flirtatiously, while your hands slowly made their way lower towards his tummy. He sustained your gaze, his brown eyes intense as ever.

"How do I know that my kitten will not overlook me again?" the condescension in his voice instantly shifted the mood, sending shivers of excitement down your spine.

You decided to play his game, sliding lower and lower until you were kneeling on the ground. Hands on his hips, just lightly gripping the hem of the towel that was holding on for deal life to his shower-clean body.

"I'm so sorry. Will you let me make it up to my baby?" Your eyes still fixed on each other as you spoke. You waited for his spoken permission, even though the growing tent underneath the towel fabric was enough of an answer.

"I'll decide later. Wanna see how sorry you are, first" his cherry red hair fell a little on his eyes as his head was bent down, which made his gaze even darker somehow.

"I'll try my very best" the towel finally dropped to the ground with just a little tug from your fingers, revealing his hard cock. His abs tightened for a second as you took him into both of your hands, starting to move them up and down slowly but firmly, making it hard for Minho to not choke on air.

He tried to hide the noise by clearing his throat, simultaneously placing his right hand on your head, without forcing it, but merely resting there. You took it as a sign to take a step further, opening your mouth to take his cock, sucking on the tip.

His fingertips lightly grabbed at your scalp, but luckily, or not, for him, you had decided to take your sweet time. So instead you removed one hand from his dick to interlace your fingers with his, guiding his hand away from your head to his side.

He must've found it amusing, since he released a faint chuckle as he decided to let you lead for once, placing both hands behind his back.

For some reason, his sudden willingness to give up his usually dominant demeanor pushed you to try and do even better, desperately wanting to prove yourself to him. Your mouth opened even more as you took him deeper, his tip touching the back of your throat.

"Shit, my baby is really trying her best for me, isn't she?" he groaned, the humor in his voice never completely overshadowed by the arousal. The praise made you hum against him, which also made his hips buck onwards, making you gag a bit.

It wasn't exactly a mistake since he just kept going, with a steady pace, not thoroughly fucking your throat, but making sure that you gagged a bit at every stroke. Your head went still as you let him use you however he wanted, making the strokes of your hand on his cock almost automatic.

Tears prickled the corner of your eyes as your nails lightly dug into the flesh of his ass cheeks, making him hiss.

"Alright enough- I need to fuck you" Minho pulled back, releasing himself from your mouth and then bending down to reach for your face with his hands. His lips crashed with yours, immediately initiating a sloppy and messy kiss that was all teeth, tongue and lip biting.

Your hands gripped his arms for stability as he started to undress you, pulling down your pants and underwear in one go, and then interrupting the kiss to slip off your shirt too.

What he did after though, was unexpected, as he gripped your thighs and effortlessly picked you up, making you instinctively wrap your legs around him.

"Minho!" you gasped at his strength. He was always quite strong even when he didn't have as many muscles, but at least he looked like he did struggle just a little bit. But now, you could've easily been a sack of flour and it wouldn't have made a difference to him.

"You thought that they were just for aesthetic?" he laughed at you, crashing his lips to yours one more time before throwing you on the soft bed. Minho didn't waste time as he put two of his fingers, his pointer and middle, in your mouth.

"I'm sure you're wet enough, but just to make sure" he murmured, a glimmer of humor in his dark eyes. You eagerly did as you were told, sucking on his fingers and bobbing your head slightly too, just like you were doing moments before on his cock.

He groaned, too horny to let you continue your actions. He removed his fingers from your mouth, moving them south to rub up and down your slit. At the same time he leaned down to leave sloppy kisses to your neck, your arms wrapping around his neck and your hips bucking up.

"Such a good kitty for me. My good girl" he murmured against your skin, eliciting a hum from you that quite literally sounded like a purr. But of course it wouldn't be Minho without a whiplash, so he suddenly bit your shoulder, grazing it with his teeth and making you gasp.

"A good kitty that should remember to show love to her boyfriend, next time" his tone wasn't serious at all, but your response was. In addition, two of his fingers were now pumping in and out of you, getting you ready for him properly.

"So sorry, baby- ah, I'll make it up to you, I love you so much" he just chuckled at your desperate words, deciding to end both of your suffering as he removed his fingers from your pussy, replacing them with his cock instead.

"I know baby, I know" his voice much more softer, in stark comparison with the fairly quick strokes of his hips. "I know my baby loves me very much, I love you too" he continued.

Your legs wrapped around him, essentially pushing him deeper into you. Your mouth latched to his as you both moaned. It wasn't unusual to get these sweet moments with Minho, but his dominant side tended to show more in bed.

He just wanted to make sure that he knew that you loved him. That you found him attractive and cared for him, regardless of a few centimeters more or less to his biceps.

The new angle of his hips made sure that your clit rubbed on his pubic bone, which quickly got you to your orgasm. You moaned his name breathlessly as you came, lightly dragging your nails on his back. This action in addition to your walls getting impossibly tight around his cock made him come too.

Minho stilled for a few seconds as he came inside you, and made sure to gently ride out both of your orgasms afterwards. Unexpectedly, you turned your head to the side, leaving a teasing but gentle bite to his bicep, as his arms were caging you.

"You look really hot, by the way, if it wasn't obvious" voice dangerously teasing. Minho got his head up from your shoulder, looking at you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"Careful or we might stay here all day, kitten" he responded, to then gently leave a kiss on your lips. "Thank you, by the way. Next time you can come see them in the making, if you want." he added, his head nudging to his arms.

You chuckled, still keeping him close as you moved some sweaty hair from his forehead. "I'd love to"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

#stray kids fanfic #my writing #silentcryracha #skz hard hours #skz imagines #skz smut #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids lee know #stray kids x you #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids minho #lee minho smut #lee minho #skz lee know #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee know smut #skz drabbles

1K notes · View notes

lowkeycasanova · 4 months

Text

baby it's hot out here

sanji x f!reader

plot: sanji seeing you innocently suck on a popsicle gives him inappropriate thoughts

warning: smut (18+)

It was hot.

Brutally hot.

The weather in the New World was unpredictable. From boulder sized hail, lighting rain, and now scorching rays. The relentless sun beat down on the Thousand Sunny. The air felt thick and stifling, as if nature conspired to make taking each breath a conscious effort.

The cool breeze of the ocean seemed to have abandoned the ship, leaving you all subject to the oppressive heat.

Amidst the sweltering conditions, everyone sought refuge where they could find it.

Luffy was sprawled out on the deck, his hat covering his face. Zoro was in the shadow of the ship's mast, still practicing his swordsmanship with beads of sweat running down his face, with Franky and Brook sitting close by. Usopp leaning over the edge of the ship in an attempt to catch whatever breeze was sent his way.

You, Nami, Robin, and Chopper, who diligently tried to cool himself with a handheld fan, laid in the shadows on the deckchairs.

"It's so hot, I'm sweating cola." Franky announces.

"You know," you heard Brook say as he flexed his arm and leaned on it like a pillar for support. "If you pretend it's a sauna, it's actually not so bad."

Sanji was in the kitchen, determined to whip up a refreshing drink for you ladies. Everyone else can get their own.

Bringing the drinks out, he makes his way over to you, Nami, and Robin, leaning down like a gentleman, offering the glasses.

"Thank you Sanji." Robin says politely and his heart skips a beat.

Nami takes one as she continues to examine her log pose.

"Thanks but, can I get one of those popsicles we just got?" You asked him, lifting up your sunglasses. It was at the last island the crew was at where you were gifted with a bag of these treats called popsicles that you never had before and had the desire to try.

"Of course, love. Anything you want." He replied with a suave grin. He made his way back to the kitchen, pulling out the bag from the freezer, ready to present it to you in a flourish.

You squeal in delight as you rummage through the assortment, Sanji watching with a lazy grin. You waste no time tearing the plastic wrap off a blue raspberry flavored one, bringing it to your lips. And it's so hot that it seemingly starts to melt already.

Sanji eyes a cherry one, but decides against taking it. He didn't need the sugar.

He puts the rest back in the freezer and walks back out on the deck with his own glass of ice water. He momentarily takes his cigarette out of his mouth to take a sip of water and he glances back at the beautiful ladies laid out adjacent from him.

Right then, you hold the treat in your mouth, as you take of your shirt, leaving you clad in a bikini top and shorts, leaving little to the imagination.

That alone would send Sanji over the edge, but now paired with the fact that your lips are stretched around the popsicle, sinking lower to the base and back up again, eyes fluttering closed.

His eyes go wide and his throat dry. He watches you slowly pull back off it, a sweet hum coming from your mouth and the wet noise pierces his ears.

His mind is going crazy. His cock is getting hard. Your eyes are closed and Sanji knows it's in part because it's hot and because you're enjoying the sweet treat, but part of him wonders if that's what you'd look like after getting fucked by him.

He tries to shake the thoughts away. He can't have one of his episodes right now. But the more he thinks, the more he can see it play out.

Him sitting on the bed, you kneeling down on the floor in front of him while you suck him off.

He's brought back to reality. You're in conversation with Nami, laughing at something she said, while using your tongue sweep over the length of the popsicle. Then using your thump to wipe away some of the stickiness from your lips.

Sanji was hanging by a thread. He abruptly sticks the cigarette back in his mouth and storms off, ignoring Franky's call.

"What's the matter bro?"

Luffy lifts his hat up and shrugs. "Maybe he has a stomach ache."

His cock gets harder with every step he takes. Making a beeline for the bathroom, he rushes in and immediately locks the door. He undos his belt, tugs his pants down, and frees the part of his shirt that was tucked in.

His back is pressed against the wall, head thrown back. His chest heaves with heavy breaths as he squeezes his length. He feels the pangs of a sinful conscious. Nami would punch him into next week if she found out that he had gotten off to the thought of you like this.

Maybe that's what makes it more exhilarating.

His eyes flutter closed and the cig is long gone. It must have fell out when he was coming here. But no matter. His thumbs his tip, spreading his arousal over himself.

"Fuck, love." he breathes. He can see it now. You on your knees with your delicate little hand around his throbbing dick. He feels himself spasm in his hand.

A groan escapes his mouth as his clenched fist begins to move up and down his thick shaft.

He imagines you wrapping your mouth around him. The soft feeling of your cheeks as his tip nudges that little dangly thing in the back of your throat. "Yes, mhm, take it. Such a good girl." he sighs. "Keep sucking for me, just like that. You know how to do it."

His knees are shaking and his dick is throbbing and leaking. He's soaked from his own arousal but so badly wants it to be from your own.

Your pussy. Oh god.

Now he can't stop picturing your swollen lips and pulsing clit. His imagination will be the death of him. The idea of you laying back for him, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can see him, and spreading your thighs.

He gets comfortable and puts a finger in between your soft folds. You're dripping for him. Him.

His hand picks up the pace and feels this tingly sensation in his stomach.

He slaps his tip against your clit a few times. That makes you arch your back as he pushes his way in. The feeling of being stretched makes your walls tighten. He gulps, trying to compose himself. "So fucking tight."

Your pussy squelches with every thrust, breasts are bouncing and nipples erect. You're desperate, begging him for more.

The veins in his head and the muscles in his neck pop. He's a grunting mess. Gritting his teeth, using the stamia he has left to focus. He is too far gone to tease himself.

He now sees you still laying on your back, but you're giving him a handjob. Milking him for all he's got.

"Ugh, fuck!" he cried out, slamming his back against the wall as he cums. It's thick and white and he imagines cumming all over your chest. But in reality, the sticky arousal is all over his hand.

His cock softens in his hand and he breathes to try to calm down. Sanji takes a look at the mess he made, letting out a blissed, fucked out laugh, not even trying to hide the smile on his face.

#one piece #one piece sanji #op sanji #sanji fanfic #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #sanji x reader #sanji smut #one piece fanfiction

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heartsforvin · 2 months

Note

Okay Paige im back. Since today is vday (gross cus im single) you should make a smut where vinnie is brat taming the reader 🤭 that perfect mix of praise and degradation, ass slapping…i need help 🏃🏽‍♀️

KNOW YOUR PLACE

loveee this idea ! thank you for the request !!

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings; smut, use of pet names, use of the word slut, praise, degradation, slapping, creampie, cum eating ?? (i think), choking, cussing, slight fingering, lmk if i missed anything !

summary; vinnie thinks you’ve been acting very bratty lately and decides to put you in your place

it’s not like you to ignore vinnie. sure he’ll get on your nerves and push your buttons just to see how you’ll react, but you never stay mad at him for long.

you and him both know you can’t stay mad at him for long periods of time, he’s a very person to forgive.

however, today was an exception. while the two of you were out earlier in the day, he had said something that had really pissed you off.

normally you’d call him out on it — you did, in fact. vinnie didn’t think it was a big deal though.

he tried apologizing in words, touches, and even kisses, but you just shot them all down.

vinnie couldn’t believe how you were acting. crossing your arms over your chest like a child who didn’t get their way.

that’s how you ended up bent over in the bathroom while you watch vinnie fuck you from behind.

“you wanted this, didn’t you?” he asked as he forced you to keep your head up and look at the two of you in the mirror.

all that was heard was your moans, pleads, and skin slapping.

“actin’ like a brat just so i can fuck you good, hmm?”

vinnie scoffed with a laugh when he watched you put your head down and gripped the countertop, making your knuckles white.

he gripped your hips and thrusted harder, making a loud moan slip from you.

you soon felt a harsh smack to your ass that you knew would leave a mark later. that only made you let out more noise.

“that feel good?” vinnie asked you as he continued his harsh movements.

you nodded and try to reply, to say anything really, but nothing.

you looked up and watched as he moved his hand from your hip to your throat in a matter of seconds and added a bit of pressure.

“eyes on me, pretty girl,” he told you, you met his gaze in the mirror instantly. “it’s…not…supposed…to..feel..good.” he said in between thrusts.

all you could do was nod in agreement, not having any words left or even at all, to say.

vinnie’s movements quickly came to a halt and you turned around to look at him, of course not uttering a word.

before you had time to breathe you were pushed up onto the counter with vinnie standing in between your legs.

you followed his hungry eyes and watched as they landed on where he just was seconds ago.

you watch as he rubs his fingers along your folds and you can’t help but whine.

“such a slut for me, aren’t you?” it was more a rhetorical question, although he knew you weren’t gonna answer.

watching as he inserts two fingers, you close your eyes and lull your head back, loving the feeling of his fingers inside you.

“dirty girl,” you heard him mutter in a deep tone, making your head even more fuzzy than it already is. “you love feelin’ my fingers, don’t you princess?”

biting your lip, you nod but soon feel a smack to your tits and vinnie’s voice comes out loud and clear.

“i asked you a question,” your eyes shoot open when you feel him grip your jaw with his other hand. “answer me.”

you look straight at him before tearing your gaze to his fingers inside you. “y-yes, vin.” you try the best you can to say.

another smack, but this one to your pussy instead, making you moan. “speak up or we stop now.”

he starts to finger you again, going faster this time. you know what he’s doing, you know he knows what he’s doing, and you wish you weren’t in this position right now so you can smack him yourself.

“f-fuck,” you let a whine slip before saying, “yes vinnie.” a little louder than last time.

vinnie kisses you while he continues his actions. “good girl.”

you start to grind against his fingers and he lets out a chuckle, pulling them out soon after.

you’re about to protest, but vinnie grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, another smack to your ass followed.

soon you realize you’re in his room and he’s got you on all fours. you can’t see him since your facing the headboard, but you can hear him as he gets closer to you.

“gonna be a good girl, or bad girl for me?” he whispers in your ear, making chills run down your body.

the effect he has on you and doesn’t even need to be touching you is insane. you really are whipped.

“i’ll be good, vinnie.” you tell him and he smiles before kissing your cheek.

you feel the bed dip and that’s when you know you’re about to be in for it. as if you haven’t already.

he doesn’t even give you time to adjust to his size before he’s moving. you let out a whine at the feeling of his cock inside you, loving every second of it.

“fuck you feel so good baby,” vinnie moans out. “my good girl.”

you squeeze your eyes shut as you hear the praise leave his mouth. you hear him moan again and that’s when you realized you clenched around him.

“do that again, sweetheart,” he tells you and you do it once more. “fuck, that feels good.”

vinnie reaches down to toy at your clit and you can’t help but try to close your legs a bit on him.

“ nuh uh, keep ‘em open for me, pretty.” he tells you, and you try the best you can to do as asked.

you rock back and forth to get as much friction as you can, the feeling just being way too good.

“dirty girl’s fuckin’ herself on my cock now, huh?” you nod and moan in response. “such a lil’ cockslut, is that right?”

you try to turn your head and look at him, and you can see vinnie smiling as he waits for you to answer. “is that right, baby? you’re just a little slut for my cock?”

his thrusts start gaining a faster pace and it’s hard for you to reply in words , but you try.

“yes, vinnie.” you say but soon feel that same smack you felt moments prior to your ass again. “words, my love.” he tells you.

vinnie finds your clit again and it’s almost impossible for you to muster out anything other than moans.

“yes! fuck yes, vin. such a slut for you, always.” you ramble, making vinnie smile.

his pace on your clit and with his thrusts fasten and you’re so close you can feel it.

“baby, please.” you plead as you try to fight the urge to let go before you’re told too.

“please what?” vinnie asks you.

breathing heavy, you somehow get out the words, “lemme cum, please vinnie.”

he removes his hand from your clit and licks his fingers clean before grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail and tugging it so you can look at him.

“have you learned your lesson?” he asks, and you nod. “speak, you know how, don’t you? or are you too cockdrunk?”

shaking your head, you tell him no and ten follow it with, “i’ve learned my lesson, v. please let me cum, please i need it so bad.”

he smirks. “ how bad?” now he’s just teasing you, and you wish you could do something about it.

you move your hips in just the right way so he gets that pleasurable feeling like you do and that’s enough to give you what you want.

“be a good girl and cum on my cock baby, come on, you can do it.” he tells you and that’s enough to push you over the edge.

“that’s it, fuck look at the mess you made.” vinnie rambles as he watches you let go all over him.

he’s quick to follow right after, moaning out profanities as he does.

he pulls out slowly but stops quickly. he carefully turns you around and smiles down at you.

you watch as he pushes himself into you again and starts to thrust slowly.

“fuck v, no more.” you tell him, but he gives you a knowing look. “trust me baby, just wait.”

with a few more thrusts the two of you are soon cumming again and you reach up to hold his shoulders.

watching as vinnie pulls out of you for the second time, you carefully see what he does next.

“shit,” you mutter as you watch him push the cum that had leaked out back into you. “who’s the dirty one now?” you question with a laugh.

once he’s done with his fun he goes and leans down to lap up the remainder of liquid that coats your pussy.

“jesus vin,” you unintentionally push up on the bed, only to be met with vinnie’s face in your pussy. “okay thats enough.”

you push his head away, overstimulated just a bit by the feeling of his tongue on you.

vinnie wipes his mouth and gives you a goofy grin, making you kiss him for being so adorable.

“oh and just so you know, i’m always and forever will be a slut for you.” you tell him with a smile before walking to the bathroom.

you hear vinnie fall on to the bed then hear a loud “fuck” and turn around to watch as he takes off his shirt and the sheets.

“literally just accidentally laid in our mess.” he tells you as he passes by to grab the laundry basket.

you laugh and continue using the bathroom, wondering how your boyfriend can go to serious and stern, to goofy and adorable in the matter of minutes.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED I TRIED MY BEST TO MAKE IT AS SLUTTY AS POSSIBLE !!!

also happy valentine’s day, currently wishing i had vinnie and we were doing this exact thing (but that’s what dreams are for LOL)

anyways i hope you all enjoyed this , i loved writing it !!

also i’ll post a separate post w all my vin tags in case people don’t see this but im going on vacation from the 17-23 so in that week there probably won’t be any updates request wise but i do have somethin in da drafts for yall !!!

tags: @lyndys , @cosmicanakin , @forevergirlposts , @slvthrs , @bernelflo , @leqonsluv3r , @louloulemons-blog , @supabhad , @laylasbunbunny , @violet0182 , @lovingsturniolo , @kriissy4gov , @kayleiggh , @hallecarey1 , @st4rswrld

#vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinniehacker #vvhacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinniehackerfanfic #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker headcanon #vinnie x y/n #vinnie x reader

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cupids-scream-queen · 5 months

Text

-> Brahms Heelshire x f!reader

-> Prompt: breeding

Warnings: breeding, unprotected sex (wrap it for the holiday season), blindfold, rough-ish sex, slapping, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, daddy kink, idk it's smut guys.

Summary: Planning for Christmas at the Heelshire's required a lot of patience, decorations, and money. When you asked Brahms what he wanted for Christmas, the answer he gave wasn't one you were expecting.

Christmas was coming, and there was many things to do. You decided to decorate the manor, after all, you weren't sure how much holiday cheer Brahms was used to getting.

The Christmas decorations were beautiful, the house big enough for you to get one of those ridiculously huge trees you couldn't get back at home. Decorated with beautiful, twinkling bulbs and strands of incandescent lights, it was truly a sight to behold.

"Brahms? What would you like for Christmas?" You were sitting on the couch, knitting a new cardigan to replace his old one. He was resting on your lap, the yarn occasionally touching the porcelain mask.

"I don't know," He replied, his eyes staring up at you. "What could I have?"

"Oh, like clothing, candy, toys…" You trailed off, hoping he'd take the hint and pick something usual.

"A baby," He looked at you, his gaze unwavering as you looked at him, trying to process what he just said. A baby?

"Like, a human baby? Or a puppy…?"

"Human. Yours," He touched your stomach, confirming that that was where he wanted the baby to come from. You.

"Brahms, I can't just pop out a baby…there's certain--activities--you've got to do beforehand," He shrugged, unbothered.

"I know. We'll do them." It wasn't a question, and you weren't sure how to handle the situation. Why did this man want a child?

"Are you sure that's what you want?" You asked, and he nodded, very sure of himself.

"Let's get started," He sprung out of your lap, taking you knitting out of your hands as he roughly picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, something that was becoming increasingly common in your relationship.

"Brahms, shouldn't we--"

"You said I could have anything," He threw you onto your mattress, already climbing over you to grab the black silk blindfold you kept on your nightstand for times like these. "And this is what I want."

He slipped the blindfold over you, pressing a finger to your lips, silencing whatever sentence you were trying to say. He wasn't in the mood for games, or your protests, he simply wanted to have a baby. And, to him, you were the perfect person to provide that. Your pussy was already wet, and he smirked as he slipped a large hand down, touching it, providing you with friction you so desperately craved.

"Brahms--"

"Shh," He roughly handled your pussy, his fingers rubbing up against your clit as you struggled to take your pants off. He wasn't going to let you, not this easily.

He started to take your shirt off, delicately making sure not the remove the blindfold. He delicately removed your pants, your body naked save for your undergarments. Your bra was red, your soaked panties green--it was like you were taunting him with the idea of what he wanted.

He slipped his mask off, you could tell by the noise it made as he set it down on the table. His rough hands started to trail along your body, occasionally a wet kiss would show up somewhere.

"You're taunting," He kissed you on the lips, his facial hair tickling your nose as he deepened the kiss. His hands went to unclasping your bra, throwing it over his shoulder and immediately grasping your tits with his hands. Rubbing his fingers over the nipple, he got the sensitive bud to perk up, and he started to kiss his way down to your breast.

You moaned as he licked your nipple, his left hand going to grope your other breast and his right hand circling your clit. You moaned as he slipped one finger in, and then another, as he started to scissor your pussy as he continued to lick and suck on your tits. Leaving bite marks, sucking hickies into your skin, everything he could do to mark you as his, he did.

He gave your nipple one last suck before he licked from your breast down to your pussy, enjoying you squirming underneath him. His fingers were moving faster, making you gasp and moan his name, your fingers running through his hair.

"Ready?"

"Y-Yes," You gasped out, your body aching for more than just his touch. You needed him, all of him, and you were going to get it, and you knew he'd give it to you. He needed you just as much--he needed to be inside of you.

He laughed, darkly, pulling his fingers out of you. Gathering the slick from in between your folds, he slathered it on his cock, and licked the excess off his fingers. He then shoved his fingers in your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself as he lined himself up with your cunt and pushed in, stretching you.

"Ah-Brahms," You moaned around his fingers, his cock warm and filling you up in the most wonderful way. He pet your face, his hands warm and rough and fulfilling.

He smiled to himself, his dick all the way in your soft, warm pussy. He started slowly, thrusting carefully, his dick sliding in and out tantalizingly, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot. The soft, spongy walls of your pussy clenching around his cock.

"Feel s-so good," You moaned, your cunt coated in precum, your slick all over the sheets. Brahms only grunted in response, strening himself to not break you. "N-Need m-more..."

That was what Brahms needed, and he suddenly dug his hands into your hips, leaving marks in the shape of his fingerprints. He thrusted into you roughly, his dick reaching even farther into your pussy. You arched your back, Brahms shifting his hands so that they cupped your back, forcing your legs to go on either side of his shoulders. He was balls deep, his groans every time he thrust in you were heavenly.

"You're mine," Brahms grunted, and you moaned his name, confirming that you were his. He pulled out of you almost completely, before slamming his dick farther into your pussy, resulting in you to scream out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Mine. Mine. Mine."

"Yes, Brahms, I'm y-yours," You whimpered, and Brahms slapped your tits harshly, before slamming into you again. He was rough, his thrusts no longer calculated, he was chasing his high and you knew it.

"I want you to have my babies, I need you to fucking be mine," Brahms was leaving marks all over your body--handprints, fingerprints, bruises, bite marks--all of it, marking you with a cacophony of colors, various shapes and sizes. You were his, you were to be marked as his, and you were to bare his children.

"I-I will," You gasped, and Brahms slapped your face again, marking you with a red handprint. You didn't care, his roughness was only making him come closer and closer to orgasm.

"I want to see you pregnant," Brahms groaned, pushing himself farther into you, your pussy clenching around his thick length. "I need you to have my baby."

"G-God, yes, Brahms," You called out, your hands gripping him, leaving tiny crescents of your fingernails. The pain only made him more aroused, his dick moving faster, his thrusts more sloppy as he felt himself getting closer. Your pussy clenched around him, as if to tease him.

"Call me Daddy," Brahms instructed, plowing himself farther into you, his cock creating a bulge that neither of you noticed.

"Y-Yes, Daddy," You moaned, your back arching again as you came, your pussy clenching around him, you fingers digging farther into his flesh, drawing blood. Your mouth made more obscene noises, your breathing heavier. Brahms let out one more groan, cumming in you with ferocity. He shot heavy, thick loads into you. It was warm, running out of your pussy as he filled you with his hot cum.

"You'll get pregnant, right?" Brahms moaned, shooting one last load into you.

"Yes, Daddy," You replied, your fingers letting go of his skin. Tiny dots of blood dotted his shoulders, his back a mess of scratches. Your body was equally damaged, his handprints all over you, his bite marks covering your torso. "I will."

"Good." He breathed out, collapsing on you. "I'd like that."

"I would, too," You mused, his dick still inside of you. He let out a few heavy breaths before you realized he fell asleep, his cum still inside of you.

You listened to his soft snores, and felt yourself drifting off. Perhaps, yes, you'd like to raise children with him. He was a gentle man when he wanted to be.

"Merry Christmas, Brahms."

#brahms x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #brahms heelsire x reader #slasher fucker #brahms the doll #the boy 2016 #slasher community #slasher x reader #cupids smutmas advent calendar #slashers x reader #slasher smut #slasher fandom #slashers

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vanillaxoxosposts · 2 months

Text

Fuck Away The Pain.

Pairing: Adam First man x f!reader

> ⸝⸝﹒WARNINGS ; Explicit Language, cursing, Porn with plot, Porn, rough sex, vaginal fingering, gaping, drunk sex, Adam while high, drinking, dry humping, jealous/aggressive sex, sexual tension, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, use of pet names, implied size kink, language, dirty talk, hair pulling, dom! Adam, overstimulation;

⊹ ⌣ ⌣ ୨୧ ⌣ ⌣ ⊹

໒ Ft. Adam HB ᶻz

౨ৎ ︵︵ I recently had a fight with my romantic interest. It began mildly, but as we both continued to add to it, it escalated into a furious exchange of shouts,

“for fuck’s sakes! Why do you always start shit like this when we’re together?”,

From the other room, you heard him yell at me. Even though i had planned to spend the rest of the evening at my boyfriend's apartment, i decided to pack up my things and go. His remarks were like a knife to the chest, and even though i weren't blinking, i could feel the tears streaming down my cheeks and my vision getting unfocused.

They simply would not go away. My breathing contracted and it hurt, a lump forming in my throat. I completed packing every item that belonged to me. I finished packing all my belongings. My boyfriend cussed me out something that wasn’t heard clear but just rang through my ears.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Opening the door, i turned my upper body and flipped him off before slamming the front door shut.

I felt anxious and uncomfortable on the awkward walk home. I could feel eyes on me even if nobody was out at this late hour. I started to wonder if I was really to blame for the disagreement, if I was the trigger for all of our arguments. I softly sighed and moved toward your house since I was ready for the whole night to be over.

౨ৎ ︵︵ After what seemed like an eternity, I started to up my home's stairs. Shaking, I reached into my purse to retrieve my house key, but my hand trembled and I couldn't fit it into the lock. I swore in exasperation— "isn’t this the fucking light of my night.”, as more tears streamed down my cheeks. I rattled the key entire for the first time, finally managing to steady my hands. Slamming the door open and sending the doorknob crashing into the wall.

I tend to get more frustrated even when I take off my shoes. I grumble and kick off my shoes, sending them flying into the wall. There was a soft thump, as I dropped my purse to the floor and started up the stairs.

I heard a faint noise a few steps up and thought— "Did I leave my TV on? — As I ascended the stairs further, I noticed a golden feather shining from the corner of the wall, which I knew right away. Was that Adam's? Dealing with him at this time was not the right time,

As I walked up to the flat floor, I saw Adam, man spread out on my couch, reclining back on the back cushions and loudly chewing on the hamburger in his hand. With his other arm propped up on the top of the couch, he seemed engrossed in something on the television.

As I made my way over to my coffee table, I noticed several large beverages and bags of fast food. Standing there for a few seconds, and as he noticed me, his eyes widened. He then stopped chewing for a while and began to slowly chew the food that was still in his mouth, swallowing it with a loud gulping sound. Before talking, he uses his robe to clean his mouth,

“Hey, babe! You look fucking rough. Did your boyfriend forget to put it in the right hole this time? — I squint my eyes and point to my front door while he snickers with closed eyes, i state: "Can you get the fuck out, Adam? I'm not in the mood for your nonsense right now — Adam instantly stops laughing at the remarks I made and gives me a round-eyed stare.

"Wowah there, babe," he says with a ear to ear smirk and round eyes — What's twitching your panties?”, He tries to remain composed and says, "You usually don't mind when I drop by like this. — He ends his statement with a brief smirk.

౨ৎ ︵︵ However, Adam was correct—I appear as though I was just mobbed by a bunch of people. My body was shivering, my hair had become tangled and striking out, and my eyes were a deep crimson. I also happened to be sweating. I say, "Adam, I can't deal with you right now," as my voice breaks and cracks and suddenly becomes higher pitched. My throat felt that lump tighten up again.

Adam leaned forward and seemed to get the notion before laughing a little, "Holy fuck! Did you and your boyfriend have another argument, bro? — he gets up from the couch, places his hamburger on the table, and picks up the large beverage that was next to it. He reclines back on the couch with a grin.

My head shook and my eyebrow twitched. "Ex-boyfriend now," I muttered, my voice like an imitating whisper. Adams was slurping his drink when I said this, and as he did, his eyelids loosened. Finishing my sentence, his eyes widened as he choked on the beverage. With a bewildered expression, he asks, "Wait what? Really? "You're not shitting me at all?" he asks, grinning, ear to ear.

Adam squinted one eye while keeping the other wide; the squinted eye's eyebrow furrowed as he cocked the other eyebrow high up. He stares at me with that shit eating expression on his face, i stood there not saying anything.

After becoming extremely anxious, I said, "Who does that fucker think he even is? He's simply looking for ways to put the blame on me, I promise! You know, I'm sure he's hitting on his new coworker buddy. Since she joined, he has been as new as paint! — I walk over to the couch, throwing my arms and complaining to Adam. I settle in while Adam crosses over to the opposite side of the couch.

I was irritated as Adam sat there as well as my leg was bouncing. I bury my face in my palms, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees. Adam sat there awkwardly as I started to cry quietly. "Hey babe — he said, but I interrupted him by taking him by the collar and tugging him in close to my face. His eyes widened and his brows raised, his mouth forming a sideways "v" shape as he stared at me and blinked a few times.

"You don't think I started the breakup, do you?" — I question him, staring him squarely in the eyes as tears stream down my cheeks at his feeble shrug.

౨ৎ ︵︵ As he leans back, I release his collar and lean forward, pressing my forehead on his chest. I sat there attempting to calm down. "You know," he hums, giving me an awkward back pat. "I can help you find a distraction," Adam chirps. Adam adds, "Keep your mind off him, ya know?" with a nonchalant expression. I look up at him, my chin resting on his chest, my eyes misty and bewildered. He placed his hand on my thigh and started massaging it.

I curse at him, "Adam, this isn't the time for fucking jokes," as he leans back a bit and whistles, "calm down, sweetie. I'm only trying to comfort you.”

I sigh and lie back on the couch, saying, "Adam, find me another way to comfort." Despite appearing disheartened, Adam persists and says, "Sure thing, babe." He hums and, as the bags of food and drink vanished into the portal, he made of a circle with his index finger. Before I can even sit up, Adam shuts the portal and summons out something that flashes brightly in my sight. I observed stacks of full booze bottles and a gold bong fashioned like a wing. I wondered to myself, "Was this his way to comfort people and himself?" but I kept my mouth shut.

Reaching ahead, he picks up a brand-new bottle of whisky and effortlessly ruptures it open. I was amazed—alcohol in the afterlife? Color me surprised. He reclines backwards as he effortlessly downs the bottle, and then, with a burp, he pulls away from it after a few seconds. He frowns and cocks an eyebrow at me, asking, "What? Grab one. It's okay, babe — he adds, gesturing to the several bottles of alcohol.

With wide eyes, I ask him, "Give me yours," referring to his bottle. He stares at me, then down at the bottle he is holding. He shrugs and hands it to me. I look at it for a moment, then put the bottle excessively close to my lips and take a sip before opening my mouth wider and letting more fluid pass down my throat. The bitter taste makes me jolt a little as the scorching sensation moves down my throat. Adam smirks and laughs at me, saying, "Big chub there, babe!"

He leans back against the couch headboard, he lifts one leg up on the couch cushion as he man spread in front of me. He rests one arm on the top of the couch, lifting up his other hand and summons something that looks like a cigarette, it was golden color. When he sets a flame at the end of it, he takes a long drag before blowing out at me with a smirk, it starts to reek of weed.

My breathing hitches as I breathe in the smoke with a cough, waving my hand in front of my face clearing out the smoke.

I say, "Don't do that, Adam," and he sits up. He holds my chin and raises my head. When I turned to face him, he took another big take and blew at my face once more, shooting golden smoke that clouded my vision.Adam leans in to give me a gentle kiss as the smoke starts to dissipate. My gaze drops to our lips, and my eyes enlarge. Half of his hand rested on my jaw as he moved it from my chin to my cheek. He presses his lips more connected to mine and opens his mouth a little, all the while maintaining eye contact. He touches my lips with the tip of his tongue, and I accept the kiss.

I close my eyes and bend closer to share the kiss, extending my mouth wider to let more of his tongue enter as he slips it in. I put my hand on his thighs and moaned softly as he pulled away from the kiss, our tongues touching with a string of saliva. He gives me a sly smile and brings the end of the joint to his lips once again, inhaling yet holding the smoke inside. He moves in closer for another, starting to kiss me passionately. Our head moving in synch together as our tongues danced against each other, a sluggish sound coming out of our mouths.

as he blows the mouth within my mouth, golden smoke escaping from the corner of my lips — let me suck on your tits.” he says bluntly as he pulls away from the kiss, I shake my head.

“Adam, this feels so wrong. I just ended my relationship not long a— he cuts me off by putting his index finger over my lips, “I’m asking to suck on your tits, not put my dick in you”, not yet at least. “Know the difference, babe.”

౨ৎ ︵︵ Within a few seconds, Adam was able to get me undressed within seconds. It happened so fast but I couldn’t complain. He was amazing at everything, talking me through it, his fingers, his words, his touch. It made me need for him more, becoming more needy for his attention and touch.

He quickly took my boobs in his rough, heated hands. He kissed me, gripped them, and then put his mouth down. He delicately sucked on my nipple after flicking his tongue over it. I hiss and sigh gently when I feel his tiny bite on my breast. I close my eyes and throw back my head, letting out gasps.

He stops and goes to get a bottle of whisky. He starts by putting some on my chest and then begins to suck the juice from my breasts, leaving light hickeys on sections of my skin.

I sulk, putting my arms around Adam's neck and letting him lick my breasts some more. As he repeatedly sucks and pours whisky over my breasts, I gasp and moan in exhaustion as I feel his cock hardening against me. I brought him closer by putting my leg around his hips. He alternated between sucking and squeezing my boobs while I rocked my hips into him.

He hums, "Turn around and sit on my lap again, babe," and I nod as I get up from his lap, turn to face him, and then settle back down. He sets the partially used whisky bottle down next to him. He spreads my legs wide open, holding them high in the air while he exposes my cunt by sliding his hands under my knees. Before he lets go of my legs, my eyes dilate.

"Keep your legs like that," he says to me as he leans in and places his chin on my shoulder. He then starts to caress my thighs before placing a palm over my cunt. His index finger pressing across my clit and grazing my entrance.

He plays with my clit, Adam suddenly digs his fingers into my aching pussy causing me to let out a high pitched groan, begging for his touch for so long, it felt so amazing feeling a part of him inside me. Adam loves how simple it is to make fun of me in that way. How completely masterful he is over my enjoyment with a few simple strokes.

Just by his hands, the most common part of the body, they have the ability to elicit the sweetest groans from me as if they were nothing at all.

"Go ahead, baby, and cum all over my fingers — I'd like to feel you give them a firm and nice squeeze”, He keeps pumping his fingers in and out of me as I rock my hips into them, letting out gasps and groans. Adam had a way of leaving me dumbfounded and unable to speak.

Weakly, I felt a press against my lips as I looked down at the alcohol bottle in front of my mouth. "Drink, sweetheart. — Adam grins and keeps pumping his fingers. My eyes drift back, and I grudgingly open my mouth. Before the liquid started to seep into my mouth, I felt the glass's tip brush against my lips.

౨ৎ ︵︵ As the alcohol kept pouring into my mouth, I started to swallow it. The liquid was filling my mouth to overflowing, and drops started to drip down my chin and cheeks. I kept gulping it down, feeling a scorching sensation in my throat until Adam took the bottle away from me. My vision blurs and my tongue falls out; a thin string of saliva that tastes and smells like alcohol sticks to both my tongue and the top of the bottle.

I let out a few more grunts as waves of intense pleasure raced through my body and veins. I came up on his fingers, arching my upper body and tossing my head back. Drool trickles down my cheek and chin, causing a loud sound to escape my lips.

Adam holds my chin, causing me to turn my head to the side and stare at him. I feel his tongue go down my throat as he plants a long kiss on me, and I try to wrap mine around his as much as I can. He's licking his lower lip and savouring the last of the alcohol. I lower my legs as I feel them starting to cramp, panting heavily I let out a one last heavy pant.

He leans in close to ask, "How are you feeling right now, babe?" with a shit-eating smirk that made me want to punch him. All I could manage to slur was "mng-hfff," with Adams' finger still lodged in my cunt. With my fluids sticking to his fingers as it slowly descends, he removes his fingers from my swollen, used cunt — close enough to an answer”, he laughs.

Adam grabs me by the waist and places my back against the couch's headboard while spreading my legs and standing between them. He raises his robe and he removes everything from underneath, keeping on his boxers. Revealing his enormous bulge that his boxers were concealing. Adam gets closer, his thighs pressing into the backs of my thighs.

His cock sprung out as he pulled down his underwear, causing my eyes to expand and startle out of my intoxication, “fuck he has a dick piercing too? — I thought to myself as I stare at him with doll eyes. He uses the tips of his fingers to grasp his cockhead.

Adam smirked at my reaction, leaning down and grabbing her hand, placing it on his massive cock. "feel how thick it is? — he asked , "i know it looks big, but i promise, it's gonna feel amazing. you're gonna love it.", I nod slowly as I was rubbing around the tip piercing.

He purrs, "Turn around for me, baby," and you fumble to do so, your knees trembling as your body starts to shake. You turned around and pressed your top head against the headboard of the couch, your back to him.

He chimed, his hands wildly parting your ass cheeks to inspect your puckered hole. "Damn, you're hot like that. — ya know, i bet he can't fuck you the way I'm gonna right now." Adam said, smearing some of his spit on your cunt and dabbing some of it onto his cock, He then rubbed it generously on his cockhead, “Adam— i barely whimper out, turning your head over my shoulder, — I’m having second thoughts about this.”

"you're already here. might as well do it, yeah? — he smirks as he leans toward, his chest pressing against my back.

"so," he asked , "are you gonna take my dick or not? — I look forward once more, pausing to relive each moment. My eyebrows furrowed at the thought of my ex-boyfriend as my memories returned to him. I nodded weakly to Adam and leaned my forehead against the couch's headboard.

His shit-eating grin made my stomach turn around, and sank my teeth into my bottom lip to keep myself from wriggling. "That's my fucking woman," he rasped. I truly were excited, but it had always been difficult to accept his size. "Damn, then the bastard would definitely be upset, if he found out his ex-girlfriend has changed her mind for me," he cocked up to my tight hole with a smug expression on his face. — You know you've improved your taste?”,

Slowly pushing the head of his cock against her entrance. "relax," he murmured , "just relax and let me in."

pushing it deeper into my tight, stretched hole. I let out a strained moan, his pelvis squashed against mine. As he stretched me even further, reaching places i didn't even know existed or could be felt in.

adam groaned as he felt the tightness around his cock, pushing deeper inside me, his member stretching my puckered cunt hole wider than i thought possible. My walls had to gradually become accustomed to the intrusion as his cock began to split them apart. He let out a grunt, enjoying the sensation of my pussy squeezing his length as each second went by.

He reached down, grabbing my hips and pulling me closer to him, thrusting his hips in a slow and steady rhythm, his hips rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm.

"oh, fuck yes," he groaned out — you're so fucking tight”, i whimpered, arching my back in pleasure and an ounce of pain. Steady rhythm while keeping my eyes closed to concentrate on the sound of his cock sloping into my wetness. Adam picked up the pace even faster, his hips slamming against me in a brutal rhythm. His member slapped against my sensitive spots, sending waves of pleasure-pain coursing through my body.

"motherfucker," he groaned , "so fucking tight."

I was flat on your stomach, and he was pressing two big hands into the little hump of my back. "Want me to fuck away the pain, ya?" he asks, his accent lightening at the end of his statement. He copied the movements for the other while my hips naturally rise. Adam simply roughed me up and grabbed the area where my ass met my hips.

“Yes!” I nod, practically choking on my moans. My eyes squeeze shut, feeling the pressure into my stomach building as my body began to heat up. Completely lost in pleasure, my vision becoming blurry.

he pushed deeper than ever before, his entire length filling me completely. His member pulsed violently, shooting hot semen into my womb, filling me up to the brim, my eyes widen as I let out a moan, “H-Oh my fucking god Adam! — My voice was higher than he’d ever heard it.

he pushed deeper than ever before, his entire length filling her completely. His member pulsed violently, shooting hot semen into her womb, filling her up to the brim. He held himself there, savoring the feeling of being completely inside her, until his orgasm subsided.

Adam, whose cock was still pulsing inside me, smiled proudly at my response. He started to slowly and steadily move his hips once more. Adam's thighs struck the back of my thighs till he started to thrust his hips more rapidly. A loud slapping sound reverberated throughout the room, relishing in the noises of my pleasure mingled with anguish.

Each thrust sent another wave of pleasure coursing through her body, and he loved watching her struggle to cope with his immense size. “If you weren’t with that fuckhead, I would’ve fucked you on the first day. You were always so loyal to him like a fucking dog. — he grunts out

As Adam kept hammering into me, the thrusts caused my body to jerk. Adam groaned as he kept pushing into me when he heard a ringtone coming from my pants pockets. I shriek, "Adam, my phone is ringing! — as I feel his hand push down on the back of my head and tangle his fingers in my hair.

"Adam, my phone is ringing — He mocks at what I say and then pushes his cock deep inside of me. I scream and grab the headboard of the couch. “No shit Sherlock. I can hear the fucking ringing — he replies to me with an aggressive tone of voice. I reply back at to him with a loud groan.

"Ignore it," he moans, pushing his hips more deeply. "This feels too fucking good to stop," he complains loudly. I replied with a loud cry, "It's probably my ex-boyfriend," as Adam slowed down, he cursed under his breathe, "How the hell are you sure it's him?"

I said, "Custom ringtone," as drool started to trickle out of my mouth. "Custom ringtone?" he asks sarcastically, "You're full of shit — You're such a fucking sapp," as the phone rang for a what seems like a minute, it stopped ringing as I heard a notification ding.

He moaned, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. "Take it all, bitch," he hissed, "take every single inch of me." He tilts his head back again and with his free hand, Adam reaches down to grab my phone from the pockets of my pants. Adam proceeded to unlock my phone's camera. When I hear the recording begin, I try to seize the phone from him, but he presses my head farther into the cushion.

Lost in pleasure and with his hips ramming me even more, I lowered my hand and let out dampened cries. All I could muster was high-pitched whimpers as the air was being knocked out.

I should and could have yelled as he thrust me till there was no more of his dick visible. He struck the same location roughly twice a second with no buildup, but I ran out of energy. Right then, he gave up speed in favour of power. I gave a senseless, sexual groan and came, pushing against him from within feeling him shoot his seed into my again.

His seed erupted out of me, it began to spill out down my thighs and trails down to his cock. With a moan, he thrusts his hips a couple more times to get the high out of his system. He pulls out of me as a thread of sperm connects his tip and spills across his pierced dick to my plump, red, used cunt just as the sound of the video ending. My body twitched and a yellow, shimmering seed was pouring out of my cunt.

> ,, ᎑᎑᎑ tags ; @k1prisunnx @bucketwater69

@censoredhysteria

#hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader #adam smut #x reader #hazbin hotel #smut #female reader #cartoon #alcohol #sex and drugs #breakup #jealousy #possessive

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ohtobeleah · 2 months

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Secret Sacrifices // Jake Seresin

Prologue: [BrainBox]

Summary: Managing the Hard Deck isn’t always easy, especially when a certain Naval Aviator is always just one step away.

Warnings: Illusion of family loss. Jake Seresin X F!reader. Witness Protection Reader. Situationship. 18+ Content.

Word Count: 1.6k

Author Note: I’m getting back into writing after a few weeks hiatus, any feedback, comments and concepts will be greatly appreciated.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The human brain can be seen in scientific communities as the most mysterious organ in the human body. The human mind can generate up to seventy thousand thoughts a day, which means there are around two thousand nine hundred thoughts created every hour.

“Mommy!”

The human brain can store around about two point five terabytes of information at any one time. That capacity of storage is equivalent to about three million hours of television reruns or one million high-quality photos. Take your pick.

“Come on—wake up! WAKE UP PATRICK!”

The human brain can generate an electric current of about twenty-three watts. That’s enough to light up a round bulb. And although the human brain only accounts for two percent of your total body weight, it consumes more than twenty percent of the human body's total energy.

“Please don’t leave me, not now—oh god please don’t leave me.”

The length of all blood vessels in the brain, if combined, would reach a maximum length of about one hundred and sixty thousand kilometres. That’s enough distance to wrap about the earth’s circumference four times over.

“Mommy I’m scared!”

Each nerve neuron in the human brain has up to ten thousand connections with other neurons, not only that, but there are upwards of one hundred billion neurons in the brain. Which means there are more than one thousand trillion neuron connections formed in the human brain.

“We just have to keep running baby.”

The amygdala, a part of the brain responsible for coordinating emotions, has an information processing speed of upwards of twenty ms. This speed is even faster than the speed at which humans can perceive something.

All of these facts lean towards the idea of the human brain being some sort of supercomputer that we have been given. Programmed into our very existence by evolutionary biology.

“No baby girl you stay with Mommy, it’s okay—don’t you close your eyes again okay?”

And yet? Despite all the wonders and capabilities that the human brain can accomplish—Your brain keeps you stuck in a time loop of unimaginable grief and despair.

“Brewer?” The world around you had seemingly stopped for a few moments. The regular Friday night hustle of the Hard Deck had all but dissipated into silence when the overwhelming haunting noises of your own personal hell had become too loud to drown out. “Hello? Earth to Brewer?”

“What?” You frowned as you shook yourself back into existence. What you found, or more accurately, who you found standing before you across the bar made your heart skip a panicked beat. “Jesus Seresin, you scared the hell out of me.” You sighed as you felt your heart beating rapidly inside your chest. The same heart that had loved and lost so much. The very heart that right now was plagued with the dilemma of falling for the sandy blonde who stood before you with eyes that could rival the Emerald City itself.

“How?” Jake questioned as a confused frown took over his face soon after the words left his mouth. “I’ve been standing here for like two minutes just watching you zone out like some space cadet.” The chuckle that escaped Jake's slightly parted mouth soothed your beating heart into a steady rhythm.

Oh. How long had you been zoned out for?

“What can I get ya?” You decided to let it go as you shot Jake a short but harmless smile. There was no need to ask or spend too much time focusing on how long you’d been stuck standing still cleaning the same spot on the bar over and over while your thoughts consumed you. Besides, you didn't really want to know how long Jake had been standing there looking at you like a moth drawn to a flame.

“The usual, times four thanks barkeep—“ Jake replied as he reached into his back pocket, finishing out his wallet. A simple brown leather moment that always made you feel like your past was trailing right behind you. “Plus a lemonade with lime for the underage Back Seater.” There it was, that signature Seresin smirk accompanied with that wink. Insufferable. Cocksure. Endearing.

“Four Budweisers and a lemonade coming right up.” You smiled once again as you threw your bar towel over your shoulder and got to work. Jake took the time to perch himself on one of the empty bar stools that littered the outskirt of the bar. Patrons buzzed around the Hard Deck like there wasn’t a care in the world to be had on a Friday night. “And lay off Bob, he gets your drunken ass home more often than not so you should be more thankful for his intolerance to alcoholic beverages.”

Jake beamed at your lighthearted remark, they came few and far between. Whenever he was graced with the pure nature of your smile or your dry sense of humour, Jake reveled in it. So much so the crush he harboured had become common knowledge to half of Miramar. Yourself included. He wasn't a shy man, far from it. Jake knew what he wanted and, usually, he got it.

But you? You had been playing hard to get and hard to crack ever since you showed up to the Hard Deck around six months prior. From the first moment Jake saw you he’d been caught hook, line, and sinker. Six months of chasing the same girl round in circles.

“What had you lost, Brewer? Daydreaming on the clock isn’t usually your thing?” Jake asked as he got comfortable, leaning forward on his elbow as he watched you grab four Budweisers from the cooler fridge beneath the bar. He didn't miss the look on your face, the one that would occasionally replace the mild-maned stare you'd give off to slightly agitating customers. It was a look Jake couldn't really read–one that he wasn't sure if he would ever get to the bottom of, but he let it go, didn't press.

“Just got caught up thinking about how I'm gonna spend my Sunday off.” Of all the lies you could’ve made up that seemed to be the most believable.

“What are we doing on Sunday, Brewer?” Jake teased as you placed the still-capped amber bottles on the bar before him. The smirk he wore said it all, he was waiting for you to bite. And bite you did.

“God, you've got tickets to your own show don't you, Seresin?” You shook your head with a laugh as you popped the caps on the beers you'd collected. “I– am planning a reset, just have a lot of housework to get done, laundry, meal prepping, self-care.” You teased the meaning behind self-care as you reached for the soda gun. “Which reminds me I need new batteries.”

Jake caught the look in your eyes as you filled the glass to the brim with ice with your free hand and let the liquid drain from the gun. “Kinky girl, you sure we aren't hanging out on Sunday?” The smile, that damn infection smile that could light up the darkest of rooms made your head spin. But you couldn't go there. Harmless flirting was one thing, but crossing that line could cost Jake everything.

He wasn't even aware of how close he was tempting death. How close he was standing to fire. How close he was standing to a woman who had lost everything in the name of being a good person.

Unlike Jake, you had already lost everything.

“In your dreams, Bagman.” You chuckled lightly, Jake's order was all but done. “Cash, Card or on Bradshaw's Tab?” The question remained unanswered for a few moments as Jake just sat there taking in the sight of the bartender who had him wrapped around her finger with ease. A spot he wouldn't mind staying forever if you'd let him. But for now? He knew he had to play the long game: Catch me if you can! you had forced him to play.

“You tempt me, but card it is.” Jake confirmed as he fished his card from his wallet. “Someone has to keep Rooster from going into financial ruin.” It only took a few seconds for you to place all of Jake's drinks, the four beers and one lemonade with lime, onto a carry tray. “I think Payback’s been piggybacking on his bar tab too.” Jake smirked as he gave you an all-knowing look. You had been caught red-handed, but it was all circumstantial evidence at best.

“Never took you as a softy.” Bradley Bradshaw still owed you an apology for his drunk and disorderly behaviour a few weeks ago. Behaviour that saw him hurling abuse your way when you cut him off. The guy was going through a breakup of sorts, of course you felt bad. But until he said he was sorry? His tab was racking up a pretty penny of top-shelf liquors and extra beer orders from the boys. “But fine, tap your card whenever you’re ready.”

“This place is starting to charge a premium price for cheap booze ever since they hired a new manager.” Jake let out a sigh laced in banter as he paid for his order, the tip he left never went unnoticed either. Jake was good like that, he always tipped with a smile and a few extra bucks to make his almost cheesy pickup lines and banter worth your while. “And there's a lot of things you don't know about me Brewer.” With one final wink and signature smile, he was off.

“Funny.” You mumbled to yourself as you watched Jake walk away back towards the same booth the boys all lingered around whenever they weren't hogging the pool table. The same booth you frequented the most. The same booth you gave a little more attention to–because Jake Seresin, despite all your might, had a hold on you that you couldn't seem to get out of.

“I guess I could say the same damn thing.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Tags: 🏷️ @a-reader-and-a-writer @xoxabs88xox @hiireadstuff @buckysteveloki-me @athenabarnes @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh @na-ta-sh-aa @kmc1989 @sunlightmurdock @mamachasesmayhem @jaxfart @lauenderhaze @sugarcoated-lame @maisie-rebloging-blog @captainmoonknight @seitmai @shanimallina87

#secret sacrifices // jake seresin #jake hangman fic #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun fandom #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction

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farfromstrange · 1 month

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Interview With The Vampire | Vampire!Matt Murdock x F!Reader

-> Main Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire!Matt Murdock x F!Reader (she/her)

Summary: You are the first journalist to interview Hell’s Kitchen’s resident vampire vigilante after he requested you personally to tell his story. He’s offering you a way out of your miserable job—to make your voice be heard. You’re desperate and curious, so you decide to take the risk. Most people only know him as Daredevil, but you are about to learn who’s really behind the mask. How hard can it possibly be? As it turns out, interviewing a vampire is a lot more complex than you expected it to be, and Matthew Michael Murdock has set his mind on ruining you for any other man to come.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), alternative universe, blood play, marking, scent kink, slight Dom!Matt, unprotected p in v, oral f!receiving, biting, vampirism, angst, religious imagery & symbolism, Catholic guilt, mentions of violence, allusions to suicidal thoughts, lots of plot, age gap

Word Count: 12.2k (this is a beast)

Other Characters: Vampire!Elektra (mentioned), Ben Urich (mentioned)

A/n: I finally got this one edited. This is a beast, y’all! I drew inspiration from Anne Rice’s Interview With The Vampire, but particularly the 2022 AMC series (I fell in love with it then and there), but it’s not based on it, so I just played around with the idea and this came out. It’s a lot, but it wasn’t enough for a full-blown series, so you’re getting a big ass One Shot instead. I used my usual Smut tag list, but since this is slightly Dead Dove Do Not Eat, heed the warnings and proceed with care! Don't read it if you don't want to. Anyway, I hope you like it!

Read Me On AO3!

The sun has long set over the Big Apple. Artificial neon, cars, and ceiling lights burning in the highrises along the riverfront cancel out the darkness that has befallen the country’s east. Noise melts into a flood that rolls over people’s senses, but most in New York City have grown numb to the city that never sleeps.

Sirens follow cacophonies of screams. Teenagers get into clubs with their fake IDs, adults get drunk in bars or go to work the night shift at their underpaid jobs, and the other half cry themselves to sleep, knowing they will have to get up in the morning and go through the same hell all over again.

Life has become a miserable existence, and it leaves human beings wondering, ‘How much longer do we have to endure this before we all finally drop dead?’

The system fails them. The law fails to protect them. All they can do is lie down and wait to die. And they will die sooner or later. That’s inevitable.

In Hell’s Kitchen, in a penthouse with a view of the Hudson through colored windows that gloss over during the day and show the city throughout the night, resides someone who most of the city only knows by an alias—Daredevil.

If anyone crosses him, he will suck them dry. It’s not a metaphor, I’m afraid; his reputation precedes him. Criminals fear the red eyes that come with fists and a sharp set of teeth that will surely run them into the ground. The rest of the city feels a little safer with him, but so far, no one has dared to question his nature.

Fear is known to work as a paralytic. And this man living in the penthouse by the Hudson is the personification of what one might consider fear-inducing. Without the fear of others, he would not be thriving.

An apex predator like him lives for the thrill of the kill. When the adrenaline spikes, it makes the prey start running and the blood taste so much sweeter. It is to a creature of his kind what a good glass of century-old red wine would be to a human being; he savors every last drop of it.

Two years out of your Master’s degree at Columbia University, you have become one of those hard-working adults who fall into bed later than they should, and you lie awake at night, wondering how much longer you have to exist before you can live.

You interned at the Bulletin; you ran the true crime and mystery column for over a year before the newspaper shut down. A billionaire from downtown Manhattan bought it to start his own magazine, and you were the only employee he didn’t fire. Instead of relying on your top-tier education and experience though, he has banned you to the lifestyle and beauty column. He’s a beast if you have ever seen one.

On a Monday in June then, after the sun has risen and is now falling again, you find an envelope on your desk. You glide your fingers over the fancy paper. The letters are written in handwriting that resembles the old letters from the 18th century you had the pleasure of using as research material for your Bachelor’s thesis.

Your heart skips a beat. Could it be…

It is no secret that vampires exist.

Over two decades ago, scientists published papers on the existence of blood-sucking creatures after years of valuable research, and now governments around the world have set out to burn the inhuman species out before they can cause any more damage. Vampirism though is older than humanity itself and unless law enforcement has evidence of homicide, vampires have the right to exist amongst humans.

They are excellent at hiding their true nature, that much is true. The lore that has been passed down since the beginning of time is only partly true. They know how to adapt and rise from the ashes like elegant phoenixes. The misconceptions surrounding their existence stem from fiction, horror, and fear, but they persist.

And a rule has been established in society ever since the truth was revealed: don’t talk about vampires!

Don’t talk about them unless it’s in a fictional context. Don’t put your research out there. Don’t fraternize with them. Don’t risk becoming prey. Don’t be fascinated by them, and God forbid, don’t you dare write articles about them for the public records. If you want to know about vampires, you have to dig, and you have to do so quietly or society will deem you crazy and a freak.

The worst thing to be is not a flying android or a super soldier with a shield; the worst thing you can be, in this day and age, is a vampire.

You were a curious child who turned into an even more curious adult. At times even a bitter one because she couldn’t get the answers she yearned for and had to do it herself. So, of course, the We Don’t Talk About Vampires rule came across as rather absurd, learning about it back when you were merely a teen.

You started researching, and you found out more than you thought you would—more than you thought you could. You wanted to cover the issue in the Bulletin back when you still worked there, but since humans were raised to fear the very mention of vampires in the real world, no longer romanticizing the concept but rather running from it, the truth shall remain hidden. Again, that seemed absurd, but you had to accept it to get ahead.

You kept researching to the point you convinced yourself you could be one of them if you tried. You felt like you understood them, but nothing could ever fully answer all of your questions to the point it felt truthful. Honest. Real.

Growing up, everyone told you dead things aren’t supposed to walk. They aren’t supposed to breathe and exist among the living. They are cruel, and vampires are killers that leave trails of bodies the government is hiding from us. Greediness exceeds common sense. The human mind tends to get sick and twisted, and those who don’t fit in hardly ever stand a chance.

Hell’s Kitchen is particularly quiet on the issue. Rumor has it that the vigilante chasing criminals at night and leaving the worst of them dry at the shore of the Hudson while, at the same time, surrendering those he deems worthy of rehabilitation to the authorities, is one of those vampires.

They call him Daredevil; the savior of innocents and the downfall of the vile. Only a handful of people know who he is. The truth is caught in a spider web of lies, unable to come out unless someone were to tell his story for the world to hear.

That Monday in June when you open the mysterious envelope on your desk, everything changes.

He addressed you personally. Your name resembles a masterpiece, the letters swirling at the edges.

You don’t know me, but I know you.

It’s strange to read your name out of the mouth of a stranger.

I must admit, Miss, I’m a big fan of your writing. And I’m not talking about the lifestyle and beauty column Mr. Doherty of the ‘Silver Lining’ has confined you to.

No, I am a big fan of the work you used to do for the New York Bulletin. I remember your name headlining many articles on crime here in Hell’s Kitchen—a column my late friend Ben Urich used to call his home.

It’s a shame that the paper was shut down. I tried to prevent it, but the disappearance of half of humanity and Wilson Fisk’s irreparable damage to the city’s foundation tied my hands.

The token female journalist reporting on unsolicited beauty advice and lifestyle choices no one is going to follow in the days of social media and fake marketing. It must be frustrating, right? Not having a story to tell. Not getting recognized for your impeccable talent. The Bulletin gave you a platform, but Mr. Doherty and his goons took that away from you.

What I’m asking myself is, are you satisfied? You were probably imagining a different future for yourself. A woman of your caliber must want to be more than a mere object used to make a bottomless magazine look better on the market.

Excuse my overstepping. I read one of your essays on the magical and the mythic—lore versus reality—the other day, and it inspired me. My life has been taking quite a few turns lately, so I required some new… let’s call it insight.

You don’t know me, but I am one of those creatures you are fascinated by. I’m the kind of creature people have been telling you not to write about because the weak minds of the public would not receive it well. The Catholics, the church, the fragile and fearful human beings that can’t imagine anything in fiction being real and want to remain the superior species—trust me, I know what it feels like to be backed into a corner. To be abandoned. To be underestimated. Not quite like you, I admit, but I have a few years of experience in and with this world to show for myself.

I imagine you’re tired of your position. I imagine you’re dissatisfied with human idiocy. You crave answers to your questions. Questions you have been asking yourself ever since college failed to answer them. My kind is being censored—partly for good reason—but that doesn’t sit right with you, does it? To live life in a monotone line with no clear way out of this boring rhythm you have had to fall into?

I can offer you a different path. A story. Answers to your questions. And the unfiltered truth of a 242-year-old man.

You are going to find a card with my address attached to this letter. I can assure you, sweetheart, we both want the same thing. I will wash your hands if you wash mine. Think about it, and come find me when you have made your decision. Preferably after the sun has set.

Yours sincerely,

The paper crumbles in your hands, but only at the corners. Your eyes are glued to the lost drops of ink, the blue blood of an old fountain pen caving under too much pressure.

He chose his words carefully. Every paragraph circles around your head. You breathe in, and it suddenly feels as though the whiff of the unknown is an inhalable drug, twisting your brain inside out.

The pull threatens to submerge you in a stormy ocean. You’re flailing your arms around helplessly, but there is nothing for you to hold onto. All buoys have drifted into oblivion, leaving a sea of utter emptiness behind, and in the midst of it, there you are, drowning.

In a moment of clarity, you fold the letter back down on the desk. It lands with a thud, and you look around frantically, checking if anyone is watching you. They aren’t.

M. That’s all he’s giving you. And the fact he is over two hundred years old proves the rumors to be true. He’s standing by it, but only to you. He wants to reveal himself to you, show you his true face for a story, but he’s a vampire.

You’re alone. You can wash his hands, but is just showing up enough for him? You don’t even know him.

You’re in trouble. This time though, you didn’t even do anything. You did your job, and he caught an interest in you. How does that work?

Your heart skips another beat. It should not, but it does. The danger is exciting. It shouldn't be exciting. You hate what your body is doing, but how can you make it stop? You can’t. You can’t do anything but take it.

This stranger has got you in a chokehold, but in his hands, you might as well surrender to your certain demise. You don’t consider vampires inherently evil, but there is a reason people warn you not to walk alone at night in Hell’s Kitchen. He’s dangerous, no matter his nature, and he is not supposed to lure you in the way he does.

But you’re a curious kitten, and he is offering you the holy grail of answers to questions you have been grappling with for years. He hit the nail right on the head. And it doesn’t even scare you how well he knows you.

This is a gold mine. Realistically speaking, telling a vampire’s story could make or break your career as a journalist. If you do it for the magazine, you’re done before you can even bring your words to print, but if you do it individually and you do it well, people will certainly eat it up. The question is just, are you going to play your entire life safe, conforming to your boss’s view of you until you get the freedom you crave, or are you going to take the risk and fly?

The answer is as clear as day, but it takes you a moment to process. It’s as though someone is in your head, steering you in the direction of whoever this M is. Daredevil. This vampire who wants you to interview him, and for what? That’s still an open question you don’t have the answer to. But you do know what to do.

You scramble for your laptop, your notepad, and the letter in the envelope. The clock strikes four. You have another two hours on the clock, but you can’t be bothered to stay.

Upon hearing the sound of your shoes hurriedly scraping against the linoleum floors, one of your colleagues turns in her chair. “Where are you going?” she asks.

“I, uh, have somewhere to be,” you tell her as you brush past her.

“What, now?”

“Yeah. I forgot I had an appointment.”

“What about Mr. Doherty?”

You stop on your way out, looking back over your shoulder. “If everything works out,” you say, glancing through the window to his office at the other end of the hall, “He’ll have my letter of resignation by the end of the week.”

She gasps softly. “You’re quitting?” her voice is barely above a whisper.

Almost sinisterly, you chuckle. “That’s the plan, yeah.”

“But—”

“Tell your daughter Happy Birthday from me. I gotta go.”

Your steps echo for minutes still, but you are long gone with the wind.

Silver linings are considered an advantage that comes from an unpleasant situation. The name has proven to be entirely unfit for the magazine that replaced a big piece of Hell’s Kitchen’s history. The Bulletin had cultural value as much as it was laden with decades of the city’s stories told to the average person.

Wilson Fisk was the dynamite that sent New York alight. The Bulletin’s destruction was mere collateral damage in the fight to get the city back on track. You have had so many reasons to leave presented to you, yet you never took them. If you had, maybe you wouldn’t be here, making bad decisions on what started as just another Monday in June.

The fact is though, you didn’t leave, and you are here now. Facts are what matter. They count. Your hypothetical past, present, and future have no place in this reality because you can’t travel back or forward in time. Vampires may exist, and the Avengers time-traveled to save the world, but things aren’t quite as easy once you look at the bigger picture. You are not a superhero, you’re just a journalist chasing the kind of story that will finally make her voice be heard.

You know that Ben Urich, at least, would be proud of you.

His address weighs heavy on the small card you pulled out of the envelope earlier that evening. You passed it on to the cab driver, and he began to navigate the dark streets of Hell’s Kitchen. The luxury condominiums in this part of the city can be counted on one hand. You know exactly when you’re there.

The sun has once again set over New York City. You’re wide awake, not quite sure though if you’re ready to face what you are walking blindly into. Even your driver refuses to take you past a certain point, and that is how you know that you’re not dreaming. This is real, and it’s supposed to be terrifying.

How come you’re not scared then?

You slip twenty dollars to the cab driver, then climb out of the backseat. The salty air from the Hudson River a few blocks down wafts around your sensitive nose. In the distance, you can hear waves crashing into the docks as the wind picks up in speed. The boats must be moving wildly by now, swaying from side to side and possibly even making the fish in the depths of the water seasick. You would be if you were them.

With every step, you grow closer to your target. On second thought, maybe you should have brought more than just a pathetic bottle of pepper spray and your precious laptop. You could have brought your grandfather’s cassette recorder, at least that would leave a mark if you hit someone over the head with it.

Do vampires get concussions? That is another question you can add to the seemingly endless list in your mind. It’s a confusing place as of late, and the weird sense that someone is playing with the controls won’t leave you alone. Either you are overthinking, or you are worse off than you originally thought.

The apartment complex the card directs you to stretches high above you. You look up, seeing not a single light on. That’s odd, you think, but then again, you are meeting with the city’s most notorious man. If he is who everyone says he is, and if the rumors are even true, that is.

As you are about to approach the entrance, your fingertips start to burn. A gasp escapes past your lips. Staring down, the cubical piece of paper goes up in flames. You are mere feet from the door, nowhere near close to an open source of fire, and the card starts to burn like a wildfire.

You pull back, your heart hammering against your ribcage. The ashes fall to the ground, but before they can hit the asphalt, they vanish.

“What the–” before you can finish, the doors before you swing open toward the inside. The lights turn on. Someone even has called the elevator for you.

Another step forward, and a voice stops you. “Fourth floor, down the hallway, first door to your right,” the voice says through the speaker. Only then do you notice the lack of a doorbell.

Everything in you is screaming for you to run, but you are rooted in the spot. He dragged you here with a mere letter, and you were more than ready to jump. Desperation was the only thing that drove you here. Your brain seems incapable of rational thought.

What if that is what he wanted all along? To get you complicit by playing on what you so desperately need, which is a story and a way out of this boring everyday life that is threatening to slowly kill you.

He’s like a siren, luring you into his deadly trap, but even knowing all of this, you still can’t find it in yourself to run.

The second you enter the building, the door shuts behind you, and your only way out is officially locked. You made the decision; you have dug your own grave, possibly quite literally, and now you have to lie in it. It’s better to die chasing a good story than dying at a desk in an office that doesn’t respect you.

You are a disgrace, you can hear your father’s voice in the back of your mind. He always warned you not to be too reckless or your bad decisions will eventually catch up with you. He always taught you not to trust strangers, and to stay the hell away from those who disgrace God, but you have never cared much about being a good girl.

Your thoughts are as morbid as your obsession with the walking undead. It is time you embrace what people are already saying about you.

The elevator ride feels like an eternity. It goes up and up and up until it finally stops on the fourth floor. The walls smell like nothing but a faint hint of bleach. It’s clean, parquette not carpet, and the walls are kept in a shade resembling a mixture between crimson and maroon, and it is blending into a sort of marble.

The metal doors slide open. Again, you hesitate. A sweet whisper echoes in your ear, dragging you toward the edge. You breach the border between the elevator and the hallway that waits behind it. The voice is distant, and it doesn’t sound human—it reminds you of a siren’s song, calling for you. He is calling for you, and a fog settles over your mind. You’re not in control anymore, he is.

You imagine him to be an old man, possibly middle-aged. Vampires stop aging when they’re turned. Their mind doesn’t. You’ve read the research plenty. They are wise beings, more intelligent than human beings could ever fathom. That makes them dangerous.

Their venom rivals the intoxicating feeling of heroin, you’ve heard, and it heightens your senses to the point all you can feel is the one who bit you. Research suggests it’s a million times stronger than an orgasm, for both the vampire and the human being.

Part of you has always wanted to try it. Part of you wants to know what it feels like to be sucked dry. You want to know what it feels like to be carried into a new dimension by someone who knows how to play the human body like a fucking piano, eliciting the sweetest melody through your very essence and the symphony of your moans. ��

This M—Daredevil—is inherently dangerous. He’s as mysterious as they come; a man in a mask lurking in the dark corners of Hell’s Kitchen every night, turning the fight for justice into his hunting ground.

It’s as though he curled his fingers, and you followed.

You walk the dark hallway down to the door on the right. Paintings litter the walls. Masterpieces, blotches of white, red, and color. You recognize the red marble as a decorative theme on the wallpaper. Tracing your fingers over it, the rough drywall scratches at your skin.

You reach out a shaky hand toward the golden knob. Before you can turn it though, the door already flings open. It must be witchcraft.

Red appears to be his favorite color. At least judging from the hallway, that is true. When you step into the room with a pounding heart and blood pooling in your cheeks though, the inside of the room is a lot more… human. You wouldn’t have guessed it from the gloominess surrounding you on your way there.

A leather couch and armchairs stand in the middle, facing toward the window front. Colored windows, as you have gathered from the rumors. They are see-through now though, showing the city skyline and the moon up high. The chandelier on the ceiling is the only piece of furniture you would consider old. Browns meet hues of blue and dark green, a forest at midnight, and you suck in a sharp breath. The apartment is beautiful.

You look to your left and see a bookshelf stretching the length of the wall. You can’t help but run your hand over the backs. You would have expected original editions from the 18th or 19th century, but when your fingers trace over the bindings, you are met with the bulging of Braille underneath the elegant golden writing of the titles. None of them seem to have collected dust. It surprises you to only find a mere handful of classics that haven’t been transcribed in Braille and a realization you did not expect starts to crawl its way forward.

“I stole that one from a library in Paris.”

Your racing heart stops beating. The book you’ve been holding falls to the ground, its worn-out leather cracking further around the spine. The thud is deafening. You gasp, turning around. Your shoulders fly up as the tension ripples through every last muscle in your bone. Your bones ache just from how stiff you’re standing, but you can’t move.

The man before you moves as quietly as a mouse. You didn’t hear him coming. The moonlight reflects off his dark brown hair, making it appear almost ginger. He’s wearing a simple suit without a tie, and the white of his shirt is as pristine and clean as the cut of his beard. You can see chest hair poking out from underneath the two open buttons, as dark as the locks on his head. His jawline is irresistibly sharp, leading up to a pair of plump lips he is wrapping around the brim of a crystal glass filled with rum.

Your heart remains frozen. Not a single drop of blood pumps through your veins, yet your cheeks burn brighter than a bonfire on a pitch-black night.

But his flawless appearance is not what catches your attention the most. Looking up into his eyes, wanting to know whether they are as red as those set into the devil’s mask, you find nothing but your terrified reflection staring back at you. It’s as blurry as the picture of your face in a still ocean’s water, your wide eyes staring back at yourself.

The red glasses are all you can see. Round with a black rim. Silver would have looked better on him, or maybe even gold. The black reminds you of an endless pit, a sinister embrace of vampire stereotypes, but you can’t look away from the maroon that won’t allow you even a glimpse into his eyes. They are shielding him from the world, and his eyes from curious, stupid humans like you.

He nods toward the ground. “You gonna pick that up?” he asks. His voice reminds you of rumbling gravel.

He looks like a man. He talks like a man. If you didn’t know better, you would say he is human. There seems to be blood in his cheeks and air in his lungs.

You have to pull yourself together. Clearing your throat, you bend down and pick the book back up.

“Thank you,” he utters your name. “It’s been a while since I’ve received visitors that don’t work for me.”

You put the book back on the shelf. Your lips are sewn shut; you can’t find the words. Every time you open your mouth like a fish on dry land, you close it again, and it is embarrassing to be standing in front of him with your guard down.

“Welcome to my home,” he says. You wish you could see his eyes to know if he’s mocking you. “Do you want a drink, or do you need another minute to process?”

He is mocking you. His tone is gentle, as is his voice, but he smirks like a smug motherfucker, and your anger boils to a tipping point. The candle is about to burn out.

“I–” you stammer. Internally, you curse yourself for being such a fool.

“Another minute it is then.”

You don’t need a minute though. “You’re blind,” you blurt out.

The beautiful—deadly—stranger nods. “Yeah.“

“How?”

“Accident when I was a kid.”

“But you’re…” you leave the missing part of that sentence hanging in the air like a noose.

“Say it,” he murmurs. You want to say it sounds like a growl, but you’re not sure. He isn’t asserting dominance or trying to force you into submission by scaring you away, but he is toying with you regardless.

You take a deep breath. The word, the truth, numbers your tongue and your lips with its weight. “A vampire,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, matching his.

His smirk broadens. He pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek for a moment, then releases it as it darts out to wet his bottom lip. “I’m a blind vampire, yes,” he answers. “We’re rare, but we do exist.”

Blind vampires. In all of your years of fascination, that has never crossed your mind. You used to believe that they had healing abilities that far exceeded your own. You were wrong. He lost his eyesight before he got turned into a vampire. He lived as a blind human being and didn’t regain his most crucial sense when he died.

He came back to life, but he died. It is surreal to stand across from him. He’s not just letters on a piece of paper, he is very much real. And he’s blind.

“Oh, my God,” you curse.

That elicits a soft chuckle from him. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t come,” he says.

“I was considering not to.”

He sees right through you with those empty glasses. “That’s a lie.”

“How would you know?” you counter.

“I can hear your heartbeat. The blood pumping in your veins…” His head tilts ever so slightly in your direction. You take a step back. It’s an instinct. “Your pulse picks up when you lie, or when you’re nervous, or both,” he states. “When you first saw me, your heart skipped a beat. It did again when you lied to me.”

Your eyes trail down to his thick thighs perfectly fitted in his tailored trousers. His thick digits pat the rhythm with his fingers on the fabric. Thud-thudthudthud-thud. You place a hand on your chest. He wasn’t wrong; your heart is racing.

His smirk turns into a smile, but only briefly again. It’s a glimpse of humanity he doesn’t want you to see. “I like that sound,” he says. “Has anyone ever told you that you smell good? Sweet, sour, and a little salty. Natural. You don’t use a lot of artificial perfume, but you like cherry chapstick.”

You swallow, taking a whiff of your arm. Besides your deodorant masking the scent of your nervous sweat, you smell nothing. How good must his nose be? His hearing? His sense of taste?

“Right now, sweat is dripping down your back, and your muscles are tense enough to strain against your bones every time you breathe. Your heart just skipped a beat again. You find it weird,” he muses. “I can’t turn it off, but I get it must be strange for you.”

“You–” The blood has collected in your head, pushing the temperature in the room to an all-time high. “Get out of my body!” you snap.

He laughs. “That’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear.”

“And I never thought you would ask for an audience with me, but here we are.”

“Here you are.”

You want nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face. He looks so smug, standing there with his drink, wearing a suit too fancy for his own home. He’s fully in his element. It’s scary how alluring he is, too. You don’t want to think that way, but as soon as your eyes gaze upon him again, your chest contracts, and you forget how to breathe.

He’s a wolf, and you’re a lonely little sheep that doesn’t know any better. That lonely little sheep just wants to be a part of something bigger, even if that means surrendering herself to the big bad wolf. He wants a taste of her, and the sheep would give him that in a heartbeat if he just asked.

You blink. There is a voice in your head, and it isn’t your own. Far from it. You don’t want to be associated with this stranger. She thinks she knows you. She thinks she knows what you want—the sheep in the eyes of her natural enemy. This voice is the most irrational you could be, and you need to stop letting her win.

And yet you—not just the voice of the lonely sheep you appear to be—would follow this man anywhere, even to hell if he asked you to.

Your eyes drill knives into his skull, but they are also full of curiosity. Can he hear your thoughts? Your heart beats in your throat. You can taste it on your tongue. If you bit your lip, you would bleed, and he would probably fall into a frenzy. Still, your teeth dig into your bottom lip. What if he can hear your thoughts—hear how fucking needy you are? You’re pathetic. What he must think of you, standing across from him, smaller than human life itself.

You want to read him, but he is far from an open book. He’s not Braille you can run your fingers over, and even if he was, you don’t know how to read it. He’s an enigma. His face is set in stone; an iron mask you can’t penetrate.

His chest heaves with another chuckle. He sets the crystal glass down on the coffee table, taking a step forward. “No, I can’t read your mind,” he says.

You flinch. “What?”

“Your breathing pattern. The way you look at me. I can sense that you’re thinking about something.” He adjusts his glasses. “It’s just… Most humans ask me if I can read their minds, you know. I can’t. Some vampires can, but my senses are the only heightened ability I have.” This time, when he chuckles, a hint of bitterness dances in his voice.

“At least you’re not in my head then,” you say.

“No.”

“Good.”

A pregnant pause follows. You clutch your bag to your chest, your fingers digging into the frame of your hidden laptop.

“Can I offer you a drink?” he asks, pointing to his empty glass.

You wave him off. That’s the last thing on your mind. “No, thank you.”

Sometimes at night, you fantasize about diving into the abyss of darkness. It looks and sounds a terrifying lot like him. You want to know him. You need to know him. When it comes to him and this—whatever this is—the lines between want and need are blurring into an unidentifiable mess. It’s an ocean of emotions with no land in sight. A total eclipse of the heart, if you will. You’re losing your mind.

“What you can do–” You straighten your shoulder, hoping it will add height to your beaten confidence. “You can tell me your name. Sir,” you say.

He nods. “I suppose it would only be fair, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, it would.”

“Matthew. My name’s Matthew.” The softness of his features as his lips move to the rhythm of his words takes you back anew. His eyebrows raise slightly, and you catch a glimpse of a pair of beautiful, unfocused hazel eyes that steal your breath away.

Matthew. It is a name that easily rolls off the tongue. It suits him.

You repeat his name aloud. “That’s an odd name for a 200-something-year-old man,” you point out.

Matthew scoffs. “My parents were both Catholic.”

“I suppose you’re not?”

You hit a sore spot. His head dips, fingers running over his nails and tongue tracing his teeth. “Not anymore,” he says.

God died for him a long time ago, and all churches burned down.

Your grip on your bag loosens. “Then why Daredevil?” you ask.

His lips part. “I, uh, have the Bulletin to thank for that one. After centuries of existing in this world, and being despised for no matter what I do, I’ve decided to embrace it. I am Daredevil, not even God can stop that now.”

Matt grabs his glass, turning away from you. He doesn’t use a cane to navigate from the couch to the mini bar on the other end of the room. You carefully follow his movements. One of his hands remains at his side, snapping his fingers as he navigates the familiar terrain of his home.

He uncaps a half-empty bottle of Whiskey to pour himself another glass.

“You know, Matthew,” you prompt, daring to step forward an inch, “as big as your reputation is in this part of the city, Silver Lining is not the kind of magazine that would cover your story.”

“You still came,” he says.

“I could lose my job if anyone knew I came here.”

“And yet you’re here and not where you should be.” He turns his head over his shoulder. “You wouldn’t risk losing your job if it wasn’t important to you, would you?”

You stammer, “I–” He’s got you. You’re a fish with a hook in her mouth.

“If Silver Lining Magazine won’t cover my story, why are you here?” Matt turns back to you, leaning back against the shiny Mahagoni of his minibar. It offers a beautiful contrast to his strong physique and the slight paleness of his skin. “Could it be because you’re fascinated by the mythic?” he asks, teasing. “By werewolves and witches and vampires?”

It’s your turn to scoff. “I won’t confirm or deny. My boss wouldn’t let me write a vampire vigilante exposé even if I begged him to.”

“And that’s why Mr. Doherty doesn’t deserve you.” Your body visibly recoils when he pushes forward, moving just an inch toward you. “Your curiosity is a virtue,” he purrs. The moonlight sets your reflection in his glasses alight.

“Is that why you lured me here?” you ask him. “Because my curiosity is a virtue and you consider yourself better than the people in my life?”

“I didn’t lure you here, and I think you know that. That’s not what this is.” The distance between you starts to shrink, backing you into a corner. “I believe you came here because the thought of interviewing a vampire and sharing your findings with the world on your account excites you,” he says. “You want to be heard. You want to be taken seriously as a journalist, and you want to make people happy.”

The only way for you to come out of this with your pride and dignity still intact is to put up walls before the already existent labyrinth of walls keeping your heart guarded and your soul safe. “Again,” you ask, “why me?”

“Why not you? As I stated in my letter, I’m a fan of your work.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, about that. How did you write that if you’re blind?”

“I didn’t, my secretary did.”

“Of course.” Of course, he has a secretary. “I… I just don’t get it,” you say. “You’ve been hiding for so long–”

Matt cuts you off with an urgency you didn’t expect, “Things have changed. Circumstances…” he trails off.

“Wouldn’t it be a suicide mission?”

His answer is silence. You let out an exasperated sigh. “If you want me to interview you, you have to be honest with me.”

“I’m not on the record yet.”

“Right. Maybe you can answer this though—off the record, of course—how can you be certain I didn’t call the cops or the FBI before I came here?”

His eyes crinkle. “I’m not stupid, sweetheart,” he says.

He’s amused. You’re amusing him.

“Don’t call me that,” you growl.

He’s spreading you open, holding up a mirror for you to look into. It’s your miserable self in all its glory, and he knows you better than you know yourself.

You ignore the sharp pain in your left ribcage as you pull the arrow out of your heart. “Unless someone holds up a sign that they are pro-vampirism, how would you even know I’d listen to you and not just refer you to the Journal of Psychiatry?”

“Are you telling me you don’t believe in vampires?” Matt quips.

“That’s not… Answer my question!”

The sound of your heartbeat must sound almost like the rapid firing of a machine gun, that’s how fast your pulse is racing. Your veins threaten to burst with the excess blood. It’s a heat like no other. You’re a witch at the stake, and Matt is holding the torch to your gasoline-doused body.

He clears his throat. Your face falls at the words that tumble out of his parted lips, and the rapid firing turns into a deafening silence and a monotone line on a heart monitor.

“After what I’ve learned from reading Dr. Rice’s research on the phenomena of vampirism, I can confidently say this species is no different than an animal like the great white shark or the Homo sapiens sapiens—our kind,” he recites. “Vampires are a medium of fiction and propaganda to induce fear, but they are also a widely misunderstood species that is being silenced rather than heard. Our species, the human species, likes to consider themselves superior, even when we’re in a position of being someone’s natural food source. Dr. Rice’s research is based on a comprehensible set of facts, and isn’t that what we have been relying on ever since the beginning? Our psychology makes it possible for us to change the narrative in our favor, and more often than not, we ignore the very facts deemed by humans as an intellectual importance to spread the message of an entirely different agenda. Dr. Rice’s research only proves that egotism and humans themselves will be humankind's certain downfall.”

“My investigative journalism essay,” you breathe out.

“Published by Columbia University.”

Your heart restarts with a rush of adrenaline. “How… how do you know all of this?”

“I may be blind,” Matt says, “but I know how to read between the lines.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

The alcohol in his drink seems to have little effect on him. “I know you have questions, and I’m willing to answer them if you promise to publish a detailed report somewhere other than Silver Lining Magazine.”

You look down at your bag, then back at him. “Ben Urich could have told your story in a way that would’ve made people listen,” you murmur. “I don’t have an impressive career like him.”

“Yeah,” he smiles, “but you could have easily written ‘Attack on NYC’. Ben was a good man, an even better journalist, but he could not have written your college essay. And he could never have been you.”

Your name rolls off his tongue—not a pretentious nickname that makes you want to vomit but your name, and it flicks a switch within you.

You glance around the spacious living, pulling your laptop out of its confines, and you bridge the distance between you, finally. You notice he smells of sandalwood cologne and scentless soap. “Okay,” you cave. “Where do you want me to set up?”

Session 1.

The spacebar clicks underneath the tip of your index finger. The white of your screen fills with a series of red sequences as the microphone takes in every little sound around you. Except for the two of you and the fading footsteps of one of Matthew’s assistants though, the world has fallen silent in the dead of the night. He’s sitting across from you, legs crossed, head tilted; your life is about to change.

“So, Mister Murdock,” you begin, “tell me. How long have you been dead?”

His mouth opens in a wide grin. “242 years,” he answers.

“And what happened the year you died?”

“Well, it was 1782. I was a good few years out of law school. I was a good lawyer, but I wasn’t successful. That year, I met a beautiful woman at a banquet. I wasn’t rich—trust me, I was beyond penniless—but she had been adopted into a wealthy family, and that made her one of the richest women in the room. Everyone wanted her, but when I sensed her across the hall, she only had eyes for me. And she was the first woman to not see me just because I was blind.” He chuckles sadly. “I thought she was the woman of my dreams, the love of my life, but a few weeks later, after letting her into my life, I realized that she didn’t look at me that night because she was interested. She was hunting me. El— Miss Elektra Natchios…”

The year 1782 becomes apparent before your inner eye. As he tells you about the night he met her, you can see the dark-haired beauty making her way across the ballroom. Red lips and a gown to die for. Her dark eyes were full of mischief, but the passion in them could have knocked a grown man off of his feet. And that is just what she did to poor Matthew.

“I was going to marry her,” he tells you.

He went to church regularly. His knees were bloody from praying, his senses already heightened before he died. God’s soldier, that is how he puts it. He was told that the accident that left him blind happened for a reason, and he had to fight a war that went beyond the country’s fight for independence.

That summer, Elektra drained him. He didn’t know what she was. She fooled him. He was obsessed with her. Her dark eyes he couldn’t see lured her in, and it was the venom in her blood that became his downfall after she dug her teeth into him.

Matt tried to beg his priest for forgiveness, but he didn’t even make it past the marble stairs before the doors locked. He knelt in a pool of blood—both his and that of the first human he ever sucked dry to survive as a newborn vampire—offering an eternal sacrifice to Catholicism, but God abandoned him on his doorstep.

The church walls would have been set on fire if he had touched them from the inside.

You look up from your notepad to find him now standing at the window. He’s not looking out, of course, but he seems so deep in thought, the memories that aren’t your own but his start to dissipate, and you’re brought back to the here and now.

Matt poured his heart out to you. You expected answers, but not this kind, and certainly not of this magnitude. You see him in an entirely different light. He’s vulnerable, fragile, and human. He has endured trauma that killed him, but he couldn’t die because the woman he loved made him immortal. It’s a bigger curse than growing up with the belief that an accident made you God’s soldier.

He lost everything. For centuries, he has had to live with that. It’s killing you, feeling his pain, the pure agony that radiates off him.

Your voice is quiet when you ask him, “What was it like?” You don’t have to say it out loud for him to know what you are referencing.

Matt chuckles, the sound a mere breath in the atmosphere. “Like she took my soul from my body, setting fire to my belief system and already heightened senses,” he says.

You swallow. “That sounds… overstimulating.”

“It was. Is. My heart stopped, but when that happened, something else awoke inside me. The hunger… the hunger was the worst part. It’s insatiable. One hour passes, and you feel like you’ve been starving for weeks.”

“Like you’ve been possessed by a demon?”

“Like I am the demon.”

“But you’re not.” You should stop the recording. You’re not on track; you’re incorporating your feelings into Matt’s story, but you can’t help it. The words tumble out of your mouth without a second thought, a train that cannot be stopped.

He raises his eyebrows, you can see it in his reflection in the windows. “Are you religious?” he asks.

You shake your head. “This isn’t about me.”

“Are you?”

The veins on the back of his hands bulge as he balls them to fists at his sides. Your throat is a desert, and your heartbeat resembles a storm that burns right through it, sending the sand flying in all directions of the horizon.

You adjust in your seat, crossing one leg over the other. He takes a whiff. He’s smelling you, and that doesn’t help the speed of your pulse to calm down.

Tapping your pen on your notepad, you watch the red sequences fill the white space of the recording program. It moves with the sound of your voice when you finally dare to answer. “It’s a complicated question because there is a difference between believing in God and believing in the church,” you say.

“Do you believe in God then?” Matt asks. It’s as though he’s trying not to seethe at the mere mention of someone he used to worship. You make a note of that.

“There is so much bad in this world. So much cruelty. I can’t…” You take a deep breath. “I don’t know how to believe in a God that would let the things humans do to each other happen. If God existed—if he was as merciful as Christians like to claim, he wouldn’t let this happen. And I’m so sick and tired of people using their faith, and their beliefs in God and the church as justification to be disrespectful. I don’t understand it. How can anyone? Why is someone who has to drink blood to stay alive—someone who didn’t even choose this life—worth less and the devil’s breed when humans do worse things to each other? Why would God allow us to start wars that kill innocent people? Children? It’s just not fair that we treat ourselves and others as though we are already in hell, and we’re just supposed to accept that God doesn’t care—” You stop yourself, the tears burning behind your eyes.

Matt turns back around. You can’t look away. “When I was still human,” he murmurs, “I used to believe everything that happened to me was God’s will. The accident, God’s will. Me going blind, God’s will. I went to confession, prayed until my knees were bloody and bruised. I tried convincing myself that every scream I heard from down the block, every person who lost their life or their innocence was my responsibility. God made me this way for a reason, right?” The scoff is as bitter as the liquor in his glass. “I fell apart, you know. I was a kid, so I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand what was happening to me,” he tells you.

You hold your breath. The glasses slip from his eyes as he takes them off with shaky fingers. You are met with the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes. Emotions dance a heated tango in a tornado. If you look closer, the green specks bring life to his eyes. It’s human nature in the purest sense of the word.

Your reflection stands in his irises, his unmoving pupils, and the tears glisten in his eyes. They’re as red as blood, watered-down crimson essence. You want to reach out and stroke his cheek, but that would be crossing a very big line that you can’t bring yourself up to touch.

“I studied law because I thought it would change something,” he continues. You listen. It’s the only thing you can do—listen. “It wasn’t enough. Nothing I ever did felt like it was enough. I lost my father. Jack. I didn’t know my mother until it was too late. Maggie. I had no one. No money, no prospects, just me and those voices in my head, telling me I was supposed to be God’s soldier.”

“You’re not,” you cut in.

He shakes his head. “I prayed; I crawled up the stairs of the church, and I spent hours repenting for my sins. I bled myself dry for Him. I sacrificed myself. I sacrificed my youth, my heart, and my soul, and I got nothing back. I begged for help until my voice was sore, but nothing… God, nothing was ever good enough. Until Elektra came around,” he says.

“She changed everything for you. It makes sense. She turned you into a vampire, but she also loved you.”

“She did love me, in her own twisted way.”

“It’s what you deserved,” you say.

He isn’t yours, but the pang you feel in your chest is treacherous. Your heart cracks like a porcelain vase, jealousy creeping in like a parasite of toxic waste.

In response, Matt only chuckles bitterly. “She made me believe again, then took my soul and crushed it in her hand.” The correction makes your shoulders slump. “Instead of feeling like my world ended though, I felt at peace when she sucked the blood out of my veins and fed me her venom,” he says. “It’s sick, I know. I was aware I died that night, that she turned me into a devil who could only survive if he drank the blood of others. The Catholic in me struggled to accept it, but I had no choice but to embrace what she made me.”

“And where is she now?” you ask.

“Gone.” The light in his eyes has fully disappeared now. “I stayed with her for a while until she died in my arms. She showed me what love is, and she showed me heartbreak. She made me hungry for blood, awakening the devil I’ve been trying to tame. She taught me how to feed, how to hunt, and how to chase. But she also cursed me,” he says. “I only exist for myself now. I only bleed for myself. No God, no church, and no more religion. I’m not Jesus, I’m Judas, and I retired the cross the day I was crucified.”

You have run out of questions to ask. Too overwhelming is the sight of his walls crumbling down, this stranger you now know better than any living being seems to. You no longer see money in this, or a story to chase, you only see Matthew, and the halo above his head he still believes is a pair of horns. The world broke him. His faith in God broke him. It crushed him, and he lost everything. How broken he must be.

“Not such a pretty story when I say it out loud, huh?” He scoffs.

The spacebar clicks again. The recording comes to a sudden halt. One hour and fifty-eight minutes, the first session of your interview with the vampire. You need to put a halt to it now because what you are about to say or do as you reach your hand out to brush his cold, dead skin is not something that should be found on a record. And you won’t ever tell.

Matt pulls away when your warm fingertips brush his. You’re standing across from him now, so close he can smell, hear, and feel all of you at once.

Your touch is the holy water that burns his skin, but the fire sustains him and shoots straight to his core the same way the blood rushes to yours.

“It’s not a pretty story, no,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, “but it did tell me what I already knew.”

“And what’s that?” he asks.

“That you’re not evil. You’re not the Devil. You’re misunderstood. You’ve been beaten; you’ve been abandoned, hurt, and broken. That doesn’t make you a monster. Trying to make this city a better place does not make you a monster.”

“If you only knew the things I’ve done…”

“I know the rumors suggest that you were the one who fought Wilson Fisk and got this city back where it needed to be. You’ve saved countless women from the worst of fates. You are the reason the innocent people of Hell’s Kitchen feel safe. By picking up that mask, you became a hero, not a villain, and that is the story I want to tell.”

In lightspeed, he has moved you from the window to the other end of the room. Your back hits the wall.

Matt towers over you in all of his intimidating glory. His eyes spark red, but you hold his unfocused gaze. He has such beautiful eyes. This pull between you is far from human; it’s unhealthy, and it is exactly where he wanted to get you. You’re trapped, pinned underneath him like a deer caught in headlights.

Exhaling, your breath strokes his cheeks. He closes his eyes, savoring the taste of you. Every particle in the air, he inhales. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. Oh, what you wouldn’t do to suck that tongue into your mouth.

Your pheromones play his head like a puppeteer pulling the strings of his marionette. He growls. “Do you have any idea how dangerous I am?”

The moonlight catches his sparkling white teeth. This time though, you come face to face with the sharp edges of his previously concealed fangs. Your jaw drops open. He’s ethereal.

“I could snap your neck—” Matt places his hand on your neck, “I could make that heart stop beating, take the air from your lungs. I could eat you…” He traces the vein in your throat from your jaw to your collarbone. “I could bite you and suck your blood until you’re empty. I could kill you, sweetheart. My kind is your natural enemy. You shouldn’t be here.”

You shudder. His nose brushes the sensitive skin below your ear. He’s so close you can smell him. On inhale, and his scent consumes your senses. He is all you can feel now. You reach out to hold onto his arms, his muscles tensing under your teeth. He’s big and strong, and those hands have a mind of their own as they begin to wander but never where you need him most.

You shouldn’t be here, yet you came. He asked you to him, and you complied. Is this your fate now? Chasing after your big bad wolf like the helpless sheep that you are?

Your walls clench around an agonizing emptiness, your swollen clit brushing against your soaked underwear. Whatever he is doing to you, it’s the cruelest form of torture.

A strangled noise breaks out of the back of his throat, rumbling in his chest. “You have no idea how badly I want to taste you,” he breathes.

“Do it,” you beg. “Taste me.”

He utters your name again. “Stop.”

“Please.”

Your tone shatters him. When he kisses you, finally, fireworks explode in the universe around you. All the stars seem to finally align. Your heart opens, and it sucks him right into you. Your soul yearns for him. He’s so close yet so far away.

The moon stands between you, but you cross even that ocean as you push against him, forcing your tongue into his mouth. He takes like heaven and hell; he’s the apple Eve bit into and cursed her for all eternity. But he’s also the snake, the one who compelled you to take this journey of bad decisions and jump right off the cliff’s edge. You melt into him like a broken candle.

He pulls away. Those fangs are alluring, as sharp as a knife’s tip. You want to know what it would feel like gracing your skin, digging into your as he thrusts his cock into your tight cunt. The thought alone sends your mind into a spiral.

Your lips are swollen, but he has yet to draw blood. Matt looks as though he wouldn’t dare, his eyes darting around in a darkened conflict he feels might cost him more than your dignity. You are begging for it, as is your body, but he’s holding himself back. He’s the one who tied himself to an invisible pillar, keeping his hands locked behind his back. But that is not the Matt you want.

You lean your head to the side, exposing the length of his neck. All control has slipped from your fingers. It’s in his hands now—you are. He cups your head gently. A mere few inches lie between your fountain and his lips.

You press a kiss to his calloused palm—a desperate and needy kiss, tracing your tongue over the lines that tell his life’s story in a way no interview can retell—and it is then he is forever done for. He’s doomed, and you are the second woman to pull him under the pits of hell.

Saliva drips from his fangs. You hold your breath. He hisses, a weak admission of surrender; the words die miserably on your tongue when his lips close around your pulse point with all his might, and his teeth drive home.

You moan aloud. Your fingers tangle in his hair, forcing him deeper as he sucks the dark red essence out of your vein. The sensation is more than you bargained for. It’s a drug that wrecks your system. The synapses in your brain backfire with all their might, and what follows the initial explosion of pleasure shooting white hot through your being is complete and utter silence as this God of a man feeds on you.

The invisible string between you glows a bright crimson. It slings around you, tying you together like the roots of a tree. It’s an eternal sacrifice. You are giving your all to him, the very core of your existence that is now flowing into his mouth. You swear you can hear his thoughts mingle with yours. Yes, more, please. You taste so good. Your knees buckle, but you remain standing strong. He makes sure you don’t fall. Don’t slip away from me. I need you.

A tear rolls down your cheek. You could sob. It feels so good—too good to be true. In that moment, you become one. There is no telling where one begins and the other ends. The coil in your stomach tightens, and the only pain you feel is the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you. He’s taking everything as you give him everything, but it is not enough. It has never been enough.

When your body struggles to catch up with the lack of blood, he pulls away. His fangs drag out of your neck agonizingly slowly. You whimper at the sudden loss.

Matt catches you as you stumble into his arms. “You okay?” He cradles your face, brushing the hair out of your face. Your blood stains his lips. Blinking up at him, the force of your metaphysical connection slaps you awake.

You cease to exist in all solar systems but his.

He pokes the tip of his index finger with the sharp edge of one tooth, sliding it over the two holes that are pulsating with the work of your heartbeat.

“I shouldn’t have—” he begins.

“No,” you say. “You did exactly what you should have.”

“I couldn’t stop.”

“But you did.” You wipe the blood from his mouth. “And I felt you. I only felt you.”

The living room passes by you. Before you know it, your back lands on something much softer than a concrete wall. He’s not a monster, that one, but he surely is an animal.

You taste your blood on Matt’s luscious lips as he devours your tongue. It tastes of copper and a little bitter, but that is what makes him moan. That sound is the last thing you could ever grow tired of.

His palm rests on your chest. Your heart pounds against his palm. “You’re so alive,” he says.

You cradle his face in your hands. “And you’re more human than you think.”

If he wanted to pull your heart out and hold it, you would let him in a heartbeat.

He leans you back. He strips you bare. He kisses down your body like you are a fucking masterpiece for him to explore. That is how he sees you.

Your head falls back. The kisses wander from your hips to the inside of your thighs. Every kiss brings his breath closer to your center. Matt pulls them apart. He opens you up to him. Your scent clouds his senses, and he groans, but he doesn’t touch.

His fangs graze your skin. “Mine,” he growls.

You gasp. He bites into the sensitive flesh. Hard, passionately. Your legs wrap around his head, trapping him there. He sucks, and he sucks, and he drinks, and the wetness pools out of your cunt in an obscene amount. This is foreplay to him. It drives you toward the edge leading to an abyss you are afraid you might never be able to crawl back out of. There is no bottom, it is just a pit, and he’s pushing you closer and closer, and—

Your back arches, but he pulls away before the coil can snap into a million butterflies. He pries your legs away from his head, spreading them further on the mattress, as far apart as they will go.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner have been served on a silver platter. He breathes in. The scent of your soaked pussy sticks to the hairs in his nose. It isn’t enough. He breathes in again, your arousal sweeter than fiction. You’re everything and more. He wants to taste that part of you more than anything, suck up the slick that is soaking the sheets—and you didn’t even think that was possible—but he waits because he needs to savor it. He doesn’t want it to be over too soon. neither for him nor for you.

The blood is still dripping from his tongue and his fangs, and the raw inside of your thigh. He runs his finger through it. The sting runs from the wound to your folds, then back down. Still, he doesn’t touch. He plays with the blood, sucking on his fingers until they’re clean, and then he dives back in for a taste. He doesn’t bite, he kisses and sucks, but he doesn’t push it further. He doesn’t hurt you.

You’re his saving grace; he has to worship you. Pain only has a place in pleasure.

“Matthew,” you moan.

He chuckles, kissing where his fangs left deep indentations. “No one will ever touch you again,” he purrs. “I’ll make sure of that.”

You try to protest, but the words die on your tongue when he leans in, capturing your clit with his hungry mouth. The wound on your thigh closes. The blood from his lips mixes with your juices, and you cry out at the intensity of it all.

He eats you with the ferocity of a man starved for weeks. He eats your pussy like he ate your blood, savoring every drop but still feasting for the taste to spread out in his mouth like wildfire. Sour, sweet, and copper. He sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth. His tongue drags through your folds, up and down, and then the tip slides inside, tasting your walls. He grows bolder as your moans accelerate.

Matt cradles your thighs. He forces your hips back down to the mattress, stronger than the average human man. You have to endure his beard scratching and burning, and the pace he has set.

The orgasm creeps up on you. Before you know it, he has plunged his tongue into you, and your body convulses around him. You scream into a pillow as you come.

You are each other’s forbidden fruit. No prayer in the world could keep you apart.

Faintly, you can hear him say, “Good girl.” Your legs quiver. He pulls away, then comes right back like a boomerang.

He’s warm now. He was cold before, but when he kisses you this time, he’s warm. He’s hot. You run your hands over his bare chest, the scars that lie under the dark strands of hair. You tug at it, and he moans. You can tell he is a little insecure, but by pressing your lips to one of the cuts on his shoulder, he relaxes.

What he must have endured, what he must have lived through before he died and was resurrected in the same breath, just without a beating heart—you don’t want to think about it or you will break, but you can still feel him through the crimson tie that holds you together, and you know that he has suffered enough for more than two lifetimes. You wish you could take it all away from him. You wish you could have saved him before it was too late, loved him more than the woman who turned him, but turning back time is an impossibility. You are both acutely aware of that.

“Hey.” Matt tilts your head toward him. “Where did you just go?” he asks.

“Thinking about you,” you murmur.

“Me?”

“You.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to be your salvation.”

You. His salvation. He kisses you, softly this time. He pours gratitude into his lips and bleeds them out in poetry as they slide into your mouth, and you swallow every last drop.

If someone had told you a week ago where you would see yourself on that particular Monday, you would have laughed at them. And if someone had told you a week ago that you would be making love to the devil, you would have called them crazy. But it’s happening.

He thrusts into you without a warning. His thick cock fills you like nothing and no one ever has before. Your cunt has been molded to fit him, you’re sure. You take him in, and you moan at the stretch. It’s a pain so delicious you could fall apart right then and there just from the feel of him inside you.

Every thrust drags the tip of his cock along your sweet spot. Every added sensation drives you closer to your death.

Your body tingles. He explores your face with his lips rather than his fingers, moving to your neck again. You cling to him, oh-so-desperate for him. He likes you like that, and you like him like that.

“You’re fucking with my head,” he tells you. “Offering your pussy to a vampire. Letting me drink your blood. Begging me to fuck you. You’re in my head, baby. Can’t get you out of my system. Fuck.”

You are his downfall, his salvation, but he is all of those things to you as well—all of those things and more. If he could read your mind, you would tell him that. Words can’t do justice to how you feel. Not right now, maybe not ever.

“Bite me again,” you beg.

His thrusts falter. He searches your body for any sign of regret. His fangs come out, and he buries them deep in your jugular vein. The floodgates open wide. Your walls clench around his cock, your clit pulsates, and the wave crashes into you.

You come as he devours your neck and your blood. You transcend into another dimension, far away from everything and everyone but never him. Never Matthew.

The sensation of you wraps around him like a weighted blanket. His balls tighten, your blood unfolding its taste on his tongue. You are all over him, inside of him, everywhere at once. He falls head-first, dragging you down with him.

He comes with a shout that is only muffled through his teeth buried in your flesh, his cum spurting into you and filling your cunt to the brim. Your eyes roll back. You’re flying and falling all at once.

Oh, how good it feels to be consumed by him. To be fucked and sucked dry. You would have never expected this to come out of your week, let alone your life, but now that it has happened, you are floating on cloud nine.

Dizziness threatens to take over, but before you can pass out, he forces himself away, allowing your heart to catch up with the lack of blood in your system. He collapses on top of you. His cock softens, but he stays inside. You need him there. You want him there. And that is the only place he wants to rest tonight.

He heals the wounds on your neck. “You have a mark,” Matt rasps, tracing your skin with his finger.

You choke out, “Yours.”

“Yes, you are.” He kisses you there. Once, twice, even a third time. “Mine,” he says.

You’re his. He’s yours. It doesn’t get any better than this.

The minutes tick away on the obnoxious clock on the wall. Matt pulls out eventually, wrapping you up in a blanket. He coaxes you to drink, but you’re barely lucid. Only when he begins to stroke your hair you start coming back to yourself. You thought you might regret it, but as you look at him, his almost guilty eyes staring back at you, all you can do is reach out for him.

“Session two tomorrow?” you ask.

He chuckles and retorts, “Have I not scared you away?” There is some truth to it though.

He’s covered in your blood. It sticks to his lips, his hands, and his chest. It’s sickeningly intimate, in a way.

You shake your head in response. “You could not possibly.”

He listens to your heartbeat. You’re as honest as they come.

“Okay,” Matt says. “Session two tomorrow then.”

That night, you fell in love with the Devil, but he also fell in love with you, his angel in the form of a reckless journalist, and the only blood he ever wants to taste again until the end of his miserable, cursed days.

Matt Murdock (Smut) Tag List: @shouldbestudying41 @theradioactivespidergwen @cheshirecat484 @1988-fiend @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-girl-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife

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