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screampied · 4 months

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JAILBREAK. — SUGURU GETO. ☆

synopsis. you hate your job as a part time correctional officer. things change once you have to “babysit” one of the dangerous criminals of the a-block floor, suguru geto. but girl, maybe sleeping with an egotistical cocky ass inmate might have been your biggest mistake yet.

wc. 5.5k

warnings. modern au, fem!reader, pwp, inmate geto, corruption kink, degradation, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, geto has a tongue piercing, hair pulling, praise, overstim, reader’s kinda delulu

an. thank uuu @osaemu for beta readin someee!! inmate geto is my new hyperfixation omge

it was as if each shift became longer and longer, your daily occupation, nothing special, nothing fancy, just a correctional officer at some high maintenance prison near the city.

the stench of musk and sweat wafted around you, such a reoccurrence that it was practically normal. it was around midnight, as how most of your shifts were, and as you trod towards the secluded darkened space for only the inmates dangerous to themselves and others, you intake a breath before swiping your key near your hip, preparing to unlock the glass-like metal steel door.

“oh,” you close the door behind you, and that familiar deep voice does something to you.

what…?

you don’t know, but it had such bass in it, you turned to face the inmate, no one other than suguru geto. “…yo,” he mocks, giving you a sly head nod, his eyes scan up and down your body, your uniform and then your own meets his pursed lips. somehow, he managed to find a cigarette. again. “hmpf. they got the newbie watchin' me again? you do know that gun on your hip isn’t a toy, right?”

your eyebrows twitch, and your facial expressions formed into a deadpan as you walked towards him with his daily meal in hand. “yeah and i’m not afraid to use it on you if necessary.”

“ooh. rookie’s got jokes, that’s cute.” he grins.

you murmured, and he only smiles, he knows you didn’t mean that, he pissed you off, even if he wasn’t saying anything exactly. pulling out your staff notepad checklist of where you usually kept track of all the inmates attendance and meals, you uttered, “but anyways…” you blowed, “no one fed you today, suguru. you must be starving.”

“yeah, 'm starvin’ ‘n more ways than you can imagine, princess,” geto hums, and you suddenly freeze once the inmate stands up firm and tall. he’s just so damn big—broad wide shoulders, long slight shaggy dark toned hair, and with a split-second gaze, you look near geto’s orange jumpsuit. the bulge, yeah you spotted that immediately, but his tattoos…

his fucking tattoos.

“can you at least try to behave for a few minutes.” you sighed, and he's already getting on your last nerve. he could tell too…and damn was he was just getting nothing but pure amusement from your sheer irritation.

“eh, depends,” he speaks in a low gruff, his attention was on you and only you, raising his darkened thin arched brows before his lips converge into a witty smirk. “ya gonna feed me my food, babe? oh, you should know. poor inmate like me can’t feed myself when i’m all,” and he pauses while speaking, placing his hands in his lap — giving his wrists a slight shimmy and you hear the metal dance against his skin. “…handcuffed.”

it took everything within you to not smack this arrogant suave bastard, geto flirted with you whatever chance he got, with no shame either. you’re a pretty girl, well mannered, yet never took anyone’s shit, he liked that about you.

your job wasn’t to be taken lightly, it could be considered scary at times with the various inmates you have to deal on a day to day basis, but simply, you were just a girl with an attitude. but he wasn’t fond of brats, especially brats like you.

“…fine,” you mumbled, making your way towards him. he sat on the steel uncomfortable bed that was as usual, never made. geto practically lived in solitary confinement, they don’t call him the suguru geto for a reason. his name was known amongst many, he was feared worldwide. geto wasn’t exactly a good guy, far from it actually.

he’s a criminal and his record was… definitely spine chilling to say the least. “don’t try anything, just open your mouth.”

“hm, alright then.” he happily complies, his demeanor changes just a bit, and he’s more playful. geto opens his mouth just slightly and you spot tiny dimples form near the corners of his lips, and you gradually stick the spoon into his mouth, feeding him whatever food was made for the inmates of the night.

baked mash potatoes, geto stated it was one of his favorites and you just so happened to remember. a smile forms on his lips as you feed him. your eyes darted towards him, and now he’s just staring intimately at you.

that smirk that forever rested against his pink thinly parted lips.

“m-mhm.” he grunts, and your eyes widen just a bit, he was messing with you, and you don’t even realize geto’s got his hand gripped on your waist. stroking a thumb against your belt, you felt the feeling of him rubbing all against the firearm that was strapped tightly on you.

before you could smack his hand, geto swiftly brings you on top of his lap, stealing out a gasp from you at how quick he was with his movements. the silver spoon sticks out his mouth before you take it out, only to return him with an irritated glare.

“what do you think you’re doing?” you uttered, growing quite embarrassed yet trying to maintain a level-head.

“told ya,” he grumbles, swiping a tongue against the excess mash potatoes that remained near his lips. “i’m hungry, babe. that was good, but i’m not satisfied. i need more.”

“inmates in solitary confinement aren’t allowed to have seco—”

“pretty girl, you know what i’m talkin’ about,” geto chuckles, and you shiver a bit from feeling the soft pads of his thumb brush against the belt of your waist again. you were in uniform but this entire position was so dirty. not to mention, it’s not like this place of the prison was exactly secluded. it was, but there was bound to be people were walking by. “i’ve been seein’ the way you stare at me.”

he was just infuriating, but you didn’t know how to reply so…you didn’t. you just sat there on the inmate’s lap, with a quite dumb expression and he’s just eating it up. “geto—”

“it’s just you ‘n me, girl,” he slyly whispers, and his voice drops just a bit as he stops you from speaking. his touch against your waist just gave you more and more goosebumps. all the way up until you felt it. geto infamous boner that hid beneath his jumpsuit. he’s been incarcerated for at least three years now, in and out. he was for sure horny. you could just tell from his seductive gaze. “don’t gotta be shy. was waiting for you to show up if ‘m being honest. you’re not like the rest, y’know?”

that’s when you gasp, realizing his handcuffs were off — he must have took the key from your pocket, because he was just feeling you up now. you let off a surprised noise once you felt geto starting to make you grind against his lap, feeling his hefty bulge.

“sugu-” you mumbled, and he’s just staring at you with a sly grin pressing onto his lips, only before he leans directly up close to your neck, giving a part near your collarbone a soft deep suck.

you whine from feeling the near sharp edges of his teeth lightly dig into your skin, playfully.

“mhm, pretty thing like you isn’t fit to be workin’ here. cutesy little prison guard,” he sung, his warm breath wafts against your skin, “crushin’ on your inmates is real unprofessional, ya know. you could get fired.”

he was right, you could get fired. and perhaps he wasn’t lying about the second part too—you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t find suguru geto the slightest bit of attractive. because he was, he and you both knew it.

“don’t be stupid. i’m not crushing on you,” you denied, yet embarrassingly enough, your eyes widen at feeling geto air your words — his thick stubby fingers, two of them specifically runs down between your legs and you gasp again. “are you…crazy? there could be cameras in here.”

“so.”

“so? you’re trying to get me fired?” you raised your eyebrows, sitting up from his lap, and he’s playing with you entirely. stroking a rough scarred hand down your back. if it was any other inmate, you’d barely give them a second glance.

geto gives you direct eye contact, and he looks so handsome and lean back, but his messy long black strands of bangs nearly covers his eyes, making him appear to be ten times more feared.

“maybe,” then he chuckles. “it’s okay, if it makes ya feel any better. i fantasized about you at least once or twice while being secluded from the other inmates in this hellhole. i prefer you over the other annoying officers who’re always givin’ me shit.”

you were about to speak but suddenly you couldn’t—you realized how close you were to geto, propped up on his lap, propped up on his bulge. were you really throbbing right now? oh you definitely were.

pulsing, itching, aching.

“soooo, when was the last time you got laid?”

this guy.

“excuse me?” you stammer, entirely being taken aback. such smug fell off his tone, he cocked his head a certain way to let you know he was being genuine. in his own way, of course.

geto’s always been one to flirt with you whenever it was your shift to supervise him. his comments were always so bold. he’d purposely pitch his tone a bit low whenever he spoke to you, no one else. perhaps it was the incarcerated felon crushing on you.

“you heard me,” he mutters, giving you a sly glance. he ghosts a few fingers against your waist. you still don’t know why you’re happily sitting on his lap, but you were comfortable to say the least. “with your long hours i pretty much figure you don’t even have time to finger yourself, let alone get laid. poor baby.”

“…just shut up.” you chastised, his soothing warm words, the way he delivered those last two words as a form of mockery. it made you throb, you pinched yourself, feeling yourself grow out to be hot.

“make me, girl.” he faked a pout on his lips, almost as if his speech was purposely dumbing you down, solely from the tone. geto teasingly cocks his head towards the right and a teeny smile stretched against his lips.

and you did.

he was just poking fun at you—you loathed it, the tension between you and geto, his expressions were relaxed and smug like you won’t do anything.

so, what did you do?

you silenced him…with a kiss.

he’s taken aback, you’re taken aback, you don’t know what came over you but you just couldn’t stand him talking.

his sly grin, you desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. geto leans back against his bunk. his breath gets caught in his throat with the way you initiated the lustful kiss, parting your mouth open just a bit.

you can feel geto reaching for the firearm near your hip but with quick reflexes you smack his hand, and he chuckles, pulling you closer towards him.

he tasted sweet, with a tang of spice. leaning his head forward, he felt your warm breath shudder against him which makes him let off a low grunt once he feels you start to rock against his lap.

geto didn’t expect for you to trail a finger down his jumpsuit. the soft nearly wrinkled fabric, unbuttoning it and he shudders at how you’re all frisky and bold.

“easy now officer,” he whispers before pulling away, lips pink and glistening with a bit of spit. his voice was a mere rasp and it made you throb. “when i said make me, that’s not what i meant,” and then he smiles, tugging on your work pants. “but you’re something else. take off those pants, i’ve been meaning to show you something.”

geto wanted to show you his tongue, specifically his tongue piercing. not necessarily show you but make you feel it.

when you kissed him, you felt it tickle against you. the tasteless titanium rubbing against your tongue. it left you all hot and bothered.

he had you currently laid flat on your back, an entire needy mess, despite it only being a few minutes. how embarrassing…

it was just the way he curled his tongue, flicking it against your pussy, he’s sloppy. two big hands squeeze and grip against your inner thighs, long strands prickling against your legs as he swirled his tongue against your slit.

“f-fuck,” you’d gasp out, tilting your neck down to stare at geto. he’s already returning your eyes with a coltish glance, puckering his lips briefly to create kissed everywhere between your legs. your hands rummaged through his long silk hair. giving it a firm tug, that earns a low grunt from geto that makes you pulse even more. “tickles, suguru.”

“does it?” he purrs in a cheeky tone, slowly flicking his tongue against your clit—you jounce, a gasp gets caught in your throat at the way the piercing shifts against your folds. the slight coldness of it makes your thighs ache for more “mhm. can’t get enough.”

you pant, tugging and gripping roughly on his hair, geto’s nose deep, his tongue was so greedy. it was just the way he grazed and moved his tongue against your labia. your two sweet flaps, you grew more whiny by the second.

“s-suguru,” you’d squeak, biting down on your lip. you knew how wrong this was, so why did it turn you on even more? “think…think ‘m getting close.”

“yeah yeah, keep your legs open.” he cuts you off, and you stare down at him. he’s so nasty with his tongue, taking a brief second to spit right on your cunt, dragging a thumb between your slit. “do you get wet like this for all your other inmates?”

you stared down at him, feeling yourself grow more and more aroused by the second—your response was just giving him a subtle head shake. “no, just you.”

“just me?” he repeats, lowering his voice and it’s so attractive. “maybe you really are crushin’ on me.”

“shut up..” you hissed. your breathing started to become more and more erratic, your ears rang and you pulsed from how close you were starting to approach towards your orgasm.

geto’s entire chin was polished with your sweet slick—covered in nothing but all of it. such a messy eater, each time you tug on his long strands of hair. his husky pitched groans continued to make you pulse.

his piercing slowly lapped against your cunt, and you gasped at the feeling of him inserting a finger inside slowly.

“ooh, ‘s close isn’t it?” he teases, peppering kisses near your thighs now, nibbling on it playfully with his teeth. “you gonna make a mess for me? slutty prison guard?”

“y-yes.” you squirmed, your hands idly dragging him closer against your pussy. he chuckles, his technique snatching your breath away quite literally. “suguru… gonna come. wanna cum.”

he lays his tongue flat, lapping and lapping against your clit, giving it a long sweet suck to where his mouth starts watering from the taste and you moan. “ask nicer. where’s your manners huh?”

“p-please,” you whined, growing frustrated, so pent up—your walls clenched around the two fingers he now had buried deep into your cunt. you whimper from the mere stimulation, the way he toys with your g-spot with his lengthy slender fingers had you throbbing pathetically. “let me cum please, s-suguru.”

“oh but i don’t know,” the inmate teases, using his free hand to pry open your thighs a bit more. the cute pout that spread across your lips at his words was so adorable, “aw poor baby,” he hums, playfully blowing against your pussy to watch you writhe in pleasure and utter desperation. “you’re so cute when you’re desperate.”

“suguru, please, please..” you whimpered, not even caring how you sounded. your sweet voice reverberated against the walls of the secluded kept room, own words coiling at your throat.

he smiles. “how about this,” and for a terse moment…he stares right at you. with his tongue going over his lips, savoring your taste. “i let you cum, you promise to get me out of here.”

….

help him break out?

all this so you could orgasm….

you swallowed, chest heaving and your legs felt nearly nonexistent. geto looked serious though, brushing a thumb against your sloppy clit. he awaited your answer and you were deep in pondering thought.

you’d for sure get fired, then again you did hate your job.

the fact that you were even contemplating letting an inmate break out just to cum. you just wanted a release so bad, the way his tongue lapped against your pussy, the smooth texture of it flicking back and forth to where your toes curl. you wanted more, and maybe it was a bit concerning that you started to not even care about your profession anymore.

“promise..”

“oh..?” he slyly remarks, for sure you were gonna at least deny or call him crazy, but a straight answer. he was amused—and the needy look on his face was all he needed to see. “hm, it’s a deal then. go ahead ‘n cum, pretty girl.”

your back arched in ecstasy, he’s holding onto your hips departing his fingers from inside you, and just his tongue’s doing the main finish. you shuddered as you felt yourself vibrate and twitch. the build up had you clenching around nothing but air. “f-fuck…”

scorching, your body radiated and carried so much heat around it, your eyes started to roll and roll towards the very depths of your head. once you came, you slump back against the rickety mattress, one hand still firmly maintaining its grip on geto’s hair.

“there there, ‘s okay,” he slyly purrs, making sure to clean you with his tongue. for a split second his eyes close, and geto brings a few kisses against your folds before sitting up to stare down at you. “c’mere.”

you sit up, giving geto a cute needful glance, you craved more and he knew that. you leaned in to kiss him, and he returns it with such filthy passion. geto’s handsy, his slick-smeared lips ghost against yours before he deepens it. a groan gets caught in his throat, and you whine once you feel him lay you down on your back.

he leans up against you and eagerly, you give the orange fabric pants of his jumpsuit a cute tug, a sign for him to take it off.

“such an impatient little thing,” he murmurs right into your mouth. you whined, wanting him to keep kissing you but he keeps breaking away purposely, watching your lips quiver in desire. “how bad do you want me?”

“s-suguru.” you pouted, your hand finding its way towards his bulge. the strain in his pants, all because of you.

“don’t ‘suguru’ me,” he rasps in a mocking tone, his body pressed against yours. and only then did you realize the size difference, how buff and well toned geto was. he was an inmate after all, he always had a consistent workout schedule. geto’s dark eyes stare into yours before he brushes a thumb against your glossed lips. “talk to me nice in that pretty voice of yours. you want me? say it then.”

the disappointed pout you had displayed on your lips remained there as you spoke, only to hear how whiney and desperate you were.

“i want you suguru, please.” you sigh.

“girl…you’re so unprofessional,” he snickers, a swift snicker leaves from his lips before you hear him shuffle in his suit. pulling down his matched set pants, he tugs near the edge and it goes down. “feel how hard you make me, officer.”

and you let out a soft gasp.

geto lightly grabs you by the neck, and you let off a needy moan once he starts to rub your face against his boxers. the very imprint of his bulge. “all your fault. got me throbbin’ for you...”

“suguru,” you whined, a small pout spreading on your lips each second he continued to tease you. “suguru, s-stop teasing me.”

“just jokin’,” you plop down on your chest, the moment he lightly shoves you forward against the plush-cushioned bed frame. it creaked from the movements, quite rickety. “oh wow,” he utters in a low voice — quickly averting his eyes towards your work pants, briefly pulling them down to come full-view of your ass. “do correctional officers just…not wear panties or…?”

you let off a moan, feeling him skim a few fingers against your ass, holding back a noise once he presses the leaky fat tip of his cock against your throbbing entrance.

“i…i forgot.” you whined, mouth watering — you wanted more than anything for him to be inside already. “i was rushing.”

“uh huh,” geto rolls his eyes, and you stared directly at him. the plump fat head of his swiped against your wet folds, a few taps and you were about to go crazy. “ooh. look at you trying to rush me.”

he was such a tease, you could hear the playfulness in his tone. as geto hovered over you, he took a few moments before slowly easing his way inside you.

his jaw clenches, and it’s sexy…

the way his muscles would tense all because of you. you were panting, legs just dumbly sprawled out. maybe it was unprofessional, participating in sexual activities with an inmate—yet, you just couldn’t help yourself. all the built up tension surrounding between the two of you. perhaps it was bound to happen.

“fuck, ‘s warm..” he grunts, and he’s just barely halfway in. you chewed near the inside of your lip, nails clawing down his buff arms and he starts to pant himself. geto was huge. emphasis on huge.

his happy trail was mesmerizing to look at, the way he had slightly black curly hair coating near the lower half of himself. it was well trimmed, yet much visible to see. the more he gently makes his way inside your cunt, you felt every mean inch. the curve geto had—it was hefty, you felt yourself starting to drool.

a single vein throbbed, and you felt it. geto bites his tongue marginally. and once he’s fully in, he gives you a coy expression.

“may i move, officer?” he snickers.

“p-please.” you whimpered.

“okay.” he hums, and the bass to his voice was just enough to get you wet. far wetter than you already were. such smoothness dripped from it, it was a deep pitch that always made your heart flutter and sink.

once he starts up just a single thrust, your body jolts back and you gasp—finding your arms to suddenly grab onto him.

geto chuckles. “dramatic thing, aren’t you.” you moaned, nails continuing to drag down how skin as you’re laid flat against your back. the angle was so deep and thorough, each hit against your pussy had your kind spasming. in an entire frenzy of you will.

he leans in to pepper kisses all over your face, strands of his hair that was out tickled against your skin. by this point, he’s buried deep. your head goes back a bit and…oh, that same curve that he had, it continuously made an appearance.

geto was buried between your legs, hefty sack just thwacking against you. your legs were perfectly bent, shoulder width apart. “f-fuck,” you’d stammer, suddenly clamping all around him. it took a few deep vigorous thrusts, but at this point he’s got your pussy memorizing his lengths size. geto spreads his knees for a more thorough base, his movements were so sloppy you could barely think straight. let alone process anything. “suguru, ‘s right there.”

“right there what?” he teases, leaning in to nibble near the bottom of your lip. the thin fabric of his jumpsuit brushes against your skin—you were just a mess. pulse after pulse, you wouldn’t be surprised if your brain was short circuiting. “i can’t hear ya when you mumble, baby.”

“fucking-” you spat, and he chuckles once you’re cut off with a deep kiss. geto vary’s his stance against you, and slides his tongue all throughout your mouth. it’s a rough and passionate kiss—so much so to where, he has you catching his breath. once you pull away, you moan, being brought back to reality from his ruthless smacks he’s making with his dick. “keep…keep hitting me there.”

he hums, giving your bottom lip a slow playful bite again, still ramming his hips against you at such a filthy pace. “is that an order?”

he was so annoying, that two second glance he’d give you—a smirk pressing against his lips, he definitely knew how to get under your skin. “please,” you corrected yourself, nails still running down his back. it pierced against his skin, earning a low husky grunt from him. “keep hitting me in that s-spot, suguru.”

“since ya asked so nicely,” he purrs, sneaking another kiss. this time near the very corner of your mouth. the taste was just glacé, sweet and all. simply divine.

you moaned into his mouth, and as his body weight pressed against yours — you shivered. he’s such a tease, geto starts to lightly ghost your cell keys against your bare tummy. your back arched immediately, the coldness of it just grazing against your skin. “you’re so sensitive.”

his soft, teasing words rang throughout your ears, and as you clung onto him—you felt yourself coming closer and closer. he gripped onto your legs, slightly raising them upward and you moan from the deep deep angled. “o-oh my god.”

geto’s shallow mean strokes had your eyes rolling all the way back….way back to the very depths of your skull. if you weren’t drooling then, you certainly were now.

the moment he sees you pouting from how he cockily starts to slow down—geto pushes a bit more deeper, grinning from your legs now locking around his waist.

moments later though, you both freeze at hearing the sound of footsteps approaching near the solitary steel door.

right when you about to orgasm, you both stare at each other — and it’s another officer. you could tell by the loud echo of the keys dangling against their hips.

“officer, you alright? been in there a while. we’re finishing up roll call then it’s time for the inmates to sleep.”

shit.

you couldn’t stay quiet, that’d be suspicious, and you knew you had to say something. geto chuckles, still buried balls deep inside of you, leaning in to give your neck a long suck. your hands ran through his hair and you bit your lip, trying to muster up what to say.

“your subordinate’s talking to you,” geto teases, and you gasp from how he suddenly pistons his hips, such sloppy ruthless thrusts your breath was merely taken away. “don’t be a rude girl.”

“s-shut up,” you whined, putting a hand in his face and he playfully kisses it. you stop a moan from escaping your lips before you project your voice lightly. “uh, yeah. everything’s good. inmate suguru geto’s asleep. i’m just—just finishing up then i’ll take care of his dishes.”

“alright,” the lower rank replies, and your legs start to shake and jostle against geto. he’s staring at you, just wanting for you to slip up. a few awkward seconds pass before the officer continues to speak. “are we still on for tonight?”

you gulped, and geto raises his brows before whispering into your neck. “…oh, tonight, yeah?”

by all means, you felt so embarrassed, heat rises up to your cheeks as if your entire body wasn’t already burning up from his weight pressing down against you.

you ended up cumming mid-convo, and had to cover your mouth to not be so noisy. you clenched all around geto, just a twitching and spasming mess.

“y-yeah, we are.”

“good, good,” he speaks through the other end of the closed steel door. poor officer, he sounds so ecstatic, a bit of confidence running through his tone. “i’ll see you then, pumpkin.”

geto blurted out laughing and you had to slap a hand against his mouth. the moment the coast is clear and he walks away, you glare and he simpers.

“pumpkin,” he repeats, mimicking your co-workers accent. “i didn’t know you had plans. have me looking like a fool, hmpf.”

“my private life isn’t your busin—” and you get cut off once geto abruptly sits you upright, to where you’re just straddling him. you moan, your cunt still being stuffed full of his thick inches — and for a moment, you felt his vein prod against you.

geto groans, seeing how your pupils were all dilated from your recent release. “yeahhh, it isn’t,” he says, grabbing ahold of your waist. you’re rocking back and forth and he’s so thick that you’re just completely cockdrunk and dizzy. “but ‘m having too much fun with you.”

you gasp once you feel the back of geto’s hand roughly smack your ass again, and again, and again. he loves the recoil — you hiss from the sting as your hips roll and maneuver against his lap. “you’re such a dirty girl. i don’t want you to go on that date. stay with me.”

“y-you can’t be serious.” you muttered, arms thrown over his neck. and for a brief moment, it was almost as if you heard a faint of jealously lingering on his tone. it made you throb, this high and mighty notorious inmate feeling this way…for a nobody like you.

“dead serious, baby,” he utters, and you can sense geto’s close too from the way his jaw tightens. his head tilts back and he bites down on his lip. “that way i won’t be less lonely. talking to the wall ‘n everything.”

oh right, he was in solitary confinement. purposely secluded from the other guards and inmates. geto was considered a danger, yet here you were — stupidly bouncing on his dick.

“but ‘m not so lonely now that you’re here,” he coos against your ear, and you whimper once he drags a hand down between your legs. he gives your pussy a few mean spanks and you whimpered. “fuck, keep moaning in my ear like that ‘n i’m gonna give you so much of my cum.”

“i need it.” you pleaded, tears swelling up in your eyes, you genuinely didn’t know what got over you — your body was so achy, each time he traced his fingers down your body, you whined. you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to be filled.

geto groans, and his hefty base kept smacking back against you, your hips jerked as you tightly held onto him, marking up the very inner part of his neck with soft bite marks.

“f-fine,” he grumbles, and his voice gets a bit high, he’s growing out to be sensitive from the pressure building up. he even gets a tad bit whiney himself. the constant skin smacking makes him kiss his teeth, and his head throws back yet again—long pretty hair flowing against his shoulders. “god, you’re so fuckin’ nasty. riding me this g-good.”

you even start to tug on his hair, and that makes him moan even more. not like he minded. it turned him on, needless to say.

once geto came, it was thick, so much that it instantly spilled out of your cunt. you paused your hips, and he silenced his groans by grunting against your neck. he’s shaking just as much as you were — and it came out in velvety ropes, spurting and spurting.

“take it all,” he hisses, gripping onto your waist tightly. you whimper, grinding against him just for a few seconds and he’s for once speechless. “damn, those hips of yours is so deadly, fuck.”

you whined, sitting up and he pulls out of you, watching his own cum spill and drip out. geto brings a thumb towards your clit to smear it all over your pussy, an image that was a something he’d never erase from his mind.

you panted, hitting your back against his bunk while geto leans in to kiss you deeply. you kissed back, dragging your tongue against his, feeling his warm breath fan against yours before he pulls away with a weary expression.

“good girl,” he murmurs, peppering a soft kiss near the side of your mouth. “remember my promise?”

“yeah.” you exhale, trying to catch your breath. your legs felt like jello — head clouded and entirely empty, not a single thought in your mind.

he smiles. “good. because i forgot to tell ya something else,” and you stare at him, a soft confused head tilt, watching him re-adjust his jumpsuit, pulling his boxers and pants part up. “have fun being in solitary by yourself.”

“wait w-what?” you stammer, and reaches the door, your own keys in hand — and you couldn’t have felt anymore stupid. geto chuckles, with a sly shrug. “princess, you were so gullible. letting me take your keys,” and he unlocks the huge latch before grinning. “but hey, don’t feel too bad. you have a date tonight.”

you glare, overwhelmed with emotions before spitting out a, “fuck you.”

“you literally just did,” he wriggles his eyebrows. “don’t worry. i’ll come back for you,” and then he opens the steel door.

yet before slamming it, he gives you a wink and that same sly grin. “nah i’m just kidding, no i won’t. sorry.”

#★vegasbaby.#geto smut #geto x reader #geto x you #suguru geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk fic #jjk x you #jjk smut #anime smut #anime x reader #female reader #tw sex #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut

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kneelingshadowsalome · 2 months

Note

König is, obviously, a big little freak. Do you think he'd feel flattered/lovestruck if a cute girl stalked and was obsessed with him or would he be weirded out? I think the first: for once he gets pussy and love without having to do anything. Also it'd be kinda funny if he didn't even notice his little admirer at first cause she doesn't register as a threat and he's too busy being broody and depressed cause he's so alone (while reader is in her apartment fantasizing about their future kids and drawing little hearts on a pic of him)

Ohhh yes. König being oblivious af, thinks this is simply a joke.

It started out in school: cute little postcards that had bunnies or kittens or flowers or hearts on them, delivered to him by his mom who was smirking about how her boy had a secret admirer. There was nothing fancy scribbled on the other side, just soft, silly messages like: "I like you!" or "Your cute" or "Luv u ♡", and König saved them all.

…Until he showed the postcards to the wrong “friends”, who only made fun of them. One of the boys told him they sent those cards to him as a joke because no girl could ever want him, and König believed them. Allowed himself one, maybe two tears in solitude before he threw those cards away.

What was odd, though, was that the cards still kept coming. He always threw them in the trash, and at some point while growing up, they stopped arriving. No cats or hearts or cute mice illustrations for him anymore, just loads of video games and internet and a growing interest in war history and gym.

He didn’t think much of it after the age of 17, just went to the army to make a man out of himself. Got laid for the first time, got bullied some more, grew some muscle and grew some balls. Got kicked out of sniper training, his one and only dream, and went back home to brood for a few weeks.

That’s when he received the letter.

A 5 page love letter, written in beautiful, whimsical handwriting, smelling of something so angelic that it drove even the eternal stench of gunpowder and rust and military storage away.

König gets plunged into a whole world of soft feminine attention without even asking to, the letter now placed on his old desk that’s too small for him to sit at anymore. The fragrant sheets of paper are filled with confessions of adoration and love and… it would be a little bit creepy, were he a man who fancied so-called normal women.

He goes to the attic, searching his old cardboard boxes for the postcards to compare the handwriting, but can’t find none, remembering that yeah… he threw all of them away, didn’t he? The handwriting wouldn’t match anyway, that much he can remember, but then again it was a kid who wrote to him back then. Now, his admirer is a grown woman who apparently got back on her obsession train once he visited his childhood home after years of living abroad.

The hair on his shins, arms and at the back of his neck shoots up as he realizes some woman has a crush on him, some cute girl has been watching him since day one. Those postcards weren’t a joke, so she must have gone to the same school as him… She might be the daughter of some of their neighbors, living right next to him even now.

König goes door to door in search of her, but only wrinkly elders arrive to tell him that no, they never had a daughter or granddaughter or if they had, they have long since moved out to some big city.

He goes through the letter once again but finds no clues to who she is or where she lives. It’s just pages and pages of flattery about how he’s still the man of her dreams and so much more. How he’s even cuter now that he looks like someone pissed in his cereal. She wonders if he’s built the same everywhere, and if he is, then she should say her evening prayers… Too many impure thoughts going through her head already, why does he have to be so handsome?

König is in hell, as always, desperately trying to look for his admirer when he goes out to take the trash. Visions of some girl touching herself at the thoughts of him pester him from sunrise to sunset, and he has to take a cold shower every morning simply because one wank doesn’t seem to be enough to tame the big fellow downstairs.

He hugs his pillow and dreams of his girl, someone sweet to wrap his arms around and to protect. He fantasizes of someone cute waiting for him, someone he could surprise every time he gets home, someone adorable to eat out until they sob and squirm. Until he gets the stench of death out of his mouth…

A message arrives on his phone from an unknown number, and at first he thinks it’s spam.

But when he opens the message, he’s met with two perfect bare breasts. So fucking cute, especially when they’re accompanied by a set of fingertips grazing her soft skin; König even notices she has red nail polish on. So adorably, incredibly cute…

There comes a text that says: “I thought of sending you another postcard, big boy… But perhaps you don't care for kittens anymore. Hopefully this will do? ❤️”

There’s no face reveal, just tits and a cute female hand laid out there before him. Just a text that confirms that she’s the one. Typing a quick reply, he sends it to the unknown number: “This will more than just do 😳❤️❤️❤️”

Without thinking, like, at all, he pulls out his already hard cock and takes a hurried picture of it with a trembling hand. He usually knows better than to send a dick pic to a girl, especially after exchanging less than two sentences with them. But hey, she started this. The least he can do is give her something to pray about (and for)..

So he sends that horrid picture of his ugly cock to his cute mystery girl before she can even type a reply to the first message, and asks: “Are we praying tonight, my lady?”

#könig fluff #könig x reader #silly könig shenanigans

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hypewinter · 8 months

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Jason had been sitting in his living room, maintenancing his weapons when a circle appeared before him. It was big and swirling. It's hue very much akin to the sickening green of the Lazarus pits. He quickly realized the circle was in fact a portal as a teen stepped out of it. The teen wore surgical gloves and a mask over what appeared to be a hazmat suit. His hair was silver and seemed unaffected by gravity. Worse of all though, were his eyes that were that same damn color that Jason had long since grown to hate.

Jason grabbed two guns that were not currently taken apart and aimed them at the boy, taking a menacing step forward as he did so. "Who are you?" he growled. "What do you want?"

To his surprise, the boy didn't threaten him or gloat about some massive plan already under way. He didn't even offer some sort of vague, cryptic advice. Instead, the teen actually took a step back, covering his nose with one arm while putting the other up in surrender.

"Don't come any close!" he yelped. "The stench is already bad enough from here."

Jason blinked. What? "Excuse me?" was all he could utter.

The boy turned away slightly and dry heaved. "Ugh, so nasty."

Jason was having trouble figuring out what was going on. Even with his detective training. "Did you- did you just call me nasty?" he finally managed to splutter out.

The boy turned back to him, his eyes crinkling in utter disgust. "Uh, yeah. What else would you call a flea infested rat?"

"Flea infested-" Jason squawked.

"Listen could you just come with me so that we can get all of that taken care of asap," the boy said, gesturing towards Jason.

Regaining his composure a little, Jason tightened his grip on his weapons. "Hell no! I'm not going anywhere with you until you start explaining."

Despite having two guns pointed at his head, the teen only let out a deep sigh.

"Fine, have it your way." He replied, stepping towards Jason. The vigilante heard the kid mumbling, "You can do this. Think of it as handling a stinky baby. A very disease infested stinky baby," as he got closer and closer.

Jason fired off a warning shot next to the kid but the boy didn't even flinch. Fine, Jason thought. We can do this the hard way. He aimed at the boy's knee cap and fired. Only for the bullet to pass right through him. The boy neared him before picking him up like an unruly kitten. Jason went limp as he officially stopped processing what was happening. How the hell had this kid managed to lift him so effortlessly?

He didn't put up a fight as the boy turned around and led them both back through the portal, his arms outstretched as far away from his torso as possible. Jason's mind had just barely started to process information again when this weird furry, horned creature appeared in front of him.

"Ah Great One! You've returned," it said.

"Yeah yeah just hurry up and take this from me before I throw up!" the teen replied, setting Jason down and distancing himself.

The creature fixed the boy with a stern look. "That is not how we treat patients, Great One. Need I remind you? It was you who wanted to be my apprentice and all that entails. That includes treating our patients with the utmost professionalism. Regardless of your personal feelings."

The teen actually had the nerve to look sheepish, maybe even a little guilty. As if he hadn't just spent the last 5 minutes mercilessly insulting Jason.

The two continued talking for a time and Jason was more than happy to let them. It gave him time to process what the hell he was looking at and with any luck, they would let slip some crucial information. Instead however, they ended up discussing more about whatever this apprenticeship was before the weird looking creature turned back towards Jason.

"Apologies for the rudeness my apprentice has shown you," he said.

Jason muttered out an 'uh huh' in response.

The creature clapped his hands. "Now then, shall we get you examined?"

Examined? Jason staring blankly at the creature. Then he stared at the teen, hoping to gleam any info from their facial expressions. Nothing. And of course he did have his comms or his sos signal on him. Great, just great. What an absolutely craptastic situation he found himself in. He'd be sure to come back and haunt Bruce this time. Maybe even Dick. He swore that much.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #winter's tales

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yandere-kokeshi · 9 months

Text

— Who hurt you?

— yandere dad-ghost x gn teenager reader

Summary || You come home bloodied and bruised from school. While getting patched up by your dad, you reveal things

A/N || This is one of my favorite fics atm. Idk why but seeing soft dad ghost?? Yeah. That's how to do, my heart is. Anyway, enjoy 😉

Warnings || details of being hurt/bullied, blood, hints that ghost kills, and comfort.

Copper and sharpie. That’s all you can smell. The stench has embossed itself on your clothes, your flesh, and inside your nostrils. It was embarrassing really, coming home after being chased by bullies.

They slapped you to the ground. Laughed in your face as the girls kept you from getting up, sitting directly on your chest. They pulled out permanent markers and drew foul things on your face, arms, and legs.

Knead your stomach and kicked you. All you wanted was to hang out with them.

Silence settles between the bathroom, hearing your dad — Simon Riley, Ghost or a big Kodiak bear you like to call him, go through his bedroom, the sounds of his drawers opening and closing as he huffs loudly.

You heard the cruel rumors of your reputation. It was a gnawing sort of feeling of betrayal. One that ate away at your very soul and left nothing but pain in its wake. The action alone may not be the worst thing in the entire world. But what made betrayal ache was that in the past, in its place, was trust.

The rumors of you spread like a disease; whispers in the school of ‘slut’ and ‘freak’. Everyone looked at you like something else. Even teachers scoffed at you. You thought you could handle it, until today. It’s expected for your favorite shirt to be stained — again.

You didn’t want to hear your dads voice. Him being incredibly disappointed in you.

You leaned your head on the back of the toilet, chewing the inside of your cheek as you waited for him to come in. It was long, just like the torture you’d endured hours before.

“What happened?”

You stayed quiet, continuing to look up at the white ceiling before turning your head to the side, looking at him in the doorway with half-lidded eyes. He’s leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed against his chest; almost like he’s disappointed. But his voice says otherwise.

“Kiddo, what happened?” he re-asks, his boots creaking with the shift in weight distribution, floorboards straining as he walks across the space toward you.

You stayed quiet, making him stare at you before sighing.

He opened the bottom of the sink, grabbed the med kit and seized the necessary items before turning on the faucet, grabbing another dark rag due to the one you’re holding already used; stained with markers, blood, and some snot.

Your dad clicked his tongue, “What the hell happened?”

“M’ don’t wanna talk about it,”

“You worried me,” your dad voiced, using your name. You considered his words carefully, staring at your lap, legs, and arms littered with all kinds of marks.

“You also worry too much,” you pointed out, watching him kneel before you.

He steals your words from your mouth when his huge hand settles around the bloodied rag in your palm. He doesn’t speak; at first, silence hangs between you, once again as throws it away; grabbing the cloth into the sink. Then, he soaks it until it’s dripping, droplets pinging off the surface, and wrings it out. His dorsal muscles ripple beneath the backs of his palm, veins a ballpoint color and standing out against his pale skin.

“You didn’t answer your phone,” he directs, carefully holding the damp fabric and slowly reaching for your face. “I thought something happened. Which did.”

You stayed quiet for a second. “… I didn’t mean to scare you,” you whisper.

You can see his brown eyes narrow, his mind occupied by something. Clearly, he’s angry. And who wouldn’t? Finding your kid barely able to stand up, laying against the wall for help covered in bruises and blood, was a frightening sight. Especially with his type of job, anything is possible.

The pressure of the cloth against your face is so delicate, almost like he’s appearing afraid to hurt you — gently brushing away the flecks of blood in your hairline as well as the drawings. He shakes his head gently, considering your words. “Not your fault, kiddo.”

He then grabbed your arm, rotating your wrist as he examined the bruises and forming – you watched his face fill with fury.

“Who did this to you?” he seethed, voice deep and low, a tone you’d heard not so much before.

You shook your head, clearly not in the mood to talk about it. But it didn’t satisfy him, he called your name, demanding you to look at him. Tears were already falling before more words curled out of his mouth.

At long last, finally with the adrenaline and frightened state going away, you let your guard down, letting tears pour down your eyes. It stung, face hurting more than you’d like. But you didn’t care. You needed to cry.

Your hands went up to wipe away the tears, but before you can hit your sore cheeks, he’s capturing you in his arms and pulling you to his chest. He doesn’t say anything, letting your head rest on his shoulder. All you required at this moment was to be held, to know you were loved. And that he wasn’t mad — never at you.

He rubbed your back, kissing the side of your head as you cried out more — sobbing turned into occasional hiccups and gasps, then sniffles and permanent hiccups that he would occasionally let out a chuckle on.

“Ready to talk about it, kid?” He asks cautiously, prodding but patient. You only sigh softly before looking up at him, quickly noticing the snot and tears stained into his gray hoodie.

“It’s just…” you pause, trying to find the right words to say. “Things have been rough, lately. School has been hard. Everything seems to be going wrong. Especially with the other kids.”

His eyes squint as he listens to you speak, the hazel color meeting your own, leaving you choking in your words. He’s your dad. You shouldn’t be afraid of telling him. But what if—?

“—And I know that being a teenager is hard. But, I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to see them.” you trail off, a shuddering breath escaping your lips as you feel your eyes swell up once more.

His thumb catches them before they fall, however, and you smile at him for a moment before continuing.

“I’m scared to go back,” you whisper brokenly.

For a moment, the bathroom is silent, but all at once your dad’s arms are tightly around you in a hug. All-encompassing, it only makes you cry once more. Your head slumps over, forehead pressing into his shoulder – his hand pressing against the back of your neck.

“How long has it been happening?”

You shrug your shoulders, digging yourself deeper into his shoulder. “Long enough, I guess…”

“Kiddo…” he starts, sighing out of defeat. “Shit- I’m sorry for not noticing. Le’s keep you home, mkay’?”

“Okay,” you whisper, but that’s good enough for him. His hands started rubbing your back, before reaching over for the rag on the counter — continuing to clean up the stained marks and your irritated cheeks.

“Do you need me to do anything?” he says, his tone hardened. From the looks of it, he had a plan. But, you knew or not. His face was unreadable at times.

You shook your head, before hissing out at the soaped cloth on your cheek. He gently moved your hair out of the way, just enough to expose the wound near your eye.

“Sorry. Need to make sure it won’t get infected.”

Before you know it, he was done. Already putting the first aid kit back under the sink and throwing the used cloth into the wash. “Tell ya’ what,” he says, making you raise your eyebrows. Though, he pulled his cracked-screen phone from his pocket, the exact one he’s had for years and the one you’ve begged to get a new one.

He offers it to you, already on the phone on. More often or not, he didn’t let you snoop through it. Licensed files detailed in the phone. Plus, the last time you played a prank on him with it, he grounded you — for two weeks.

“W-hat do you want me to… do?” you stammered questioningly, hesitantly grabbing it before looking at the screen. Then back at him.

“Order pizza. Get whatever you want.”

Your eyes widened, a smile widening to which he chuckled at. “There you are,” he says fondly, hand brushing your hair back. “You get whatever, yeah?”

“Okay,” you say, the first true smile forming today.

You got up, eagerly running out of the bathroom and downstairs as Simon yelled a small ‘watch it!’. As he gets up from his knees, he walked into his office – making sure to hear that you’re calling the pickup line before ringing Price.

He immediately answered, asking what he needed. From the way you described their name-calling, the images of you sobbing as he held you, anger filled his veins, knuckles turning white as he clenched his fist with rage.

“I need a favor.”

And weeks later, the news began talking about a murder spree – snapping you out of your thoughts, only to see both of your ex-friends, and those teachers on TV. A pang of guilt set through you. But, beside you, your dad had a huge smile; one that was promising to never let anyone hurt you.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

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rogueddie · 3 months

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Warmth and Safety T | 808 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is the heartbeat I can feel when I hug him

Steve knows he should be in his own hospital room. Not only so other people can visit too, but because of how his head spins as he struggles to walk down the corridor.

The white walls are too clinical, too metalic. They look nothing like the Russians underground lair, but mixed with the sharp stench of bleach and medicine? It's mixing into a cruel cocktail that has his instincts screaming for Robin.

He pushes forward, gritting his teeth and- trying- to ignore the memories trying to haunt him.

"Steve," Eddie greets, when he finally makes it through the door into his room, sounding exhausted. "What the hell, man?"

"I'm fine," Steve lies, hating how breathless he sounds. He sags into the chair next to Eddies bed, grimacing. "Just need a minute... catch my breath. There's, like, so many stairs."

Eddie is silent for a long moment, but Steve can feel his eyes boring into his head.

"What?"

"Wh- you shouldn't be here, man!" Eddie says. He sounds too exhausted for the stern tone to have any effect. "The nurses have told you already. You need to heal. You can't do that if you're dragging yourself around to... I don't know, check on us?"

"I need to make sure you're ok."

"We're in a hospital. We're as ok as we can get."

"I get that, but..."

The clock chimes, the earth rumbling as the town reads apart, Dustin's screams...

"Yeah, I know," Eddie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I understand, alright? But you need to cut this shit out."

"I can't."

"Steve-"

"I need to know that you're alive. I need to know. It's not enough to hear that you're ok, I need to see it. I need to, Eds."

"Jesus Christ," he throws his head back, sighing heavy and dramatically.

But then he lifts his head, smirking a little as he opens an arm out towards him, beckoning him closer.

"Come here, big boy, let me give you a hug."

Steve rolls his eyes, but he does as he told, standing up so he was shuffle to the bed.

"You don't have to say it all creepy, man, you'll give me ideas."

"Promise?" Eddie wiggles his eyebrows. But his playfulness quickly morphs into exasperation again when he huffs out, "just sit down, Steve, come on, come here."

It takes a lot of gesturing and, eventually, slight man handling, but eventually Eddie gets Steve to lay down next to him. He tugs Steve's head down so his ear is resting on his chest and, with some hesitation, he curls an arm around Eddie's waist.

He can feel his heartbeat, thumping against his ear, matching the beeping of the monitor.

"There," Eddie mumbles, brushing his fingers down Steve's spine. "Better, right?"

"... yeah."

His heart is pounding, almost as much as Eddie's is. It's only a little reassuring that Eddie is just as nervous as him- he can only hope it's for the same reason.

"You need to take care of yourself too," Eddie continues. "Who's gonna run around after those brats of you don't heal right? Me? I'm a bad influence, Stevie, you know I'll make 'em worse."

"You'd do great, they love you."

"Noooo," he squeezes Steve a little tighter, whining as high as he can get his voice to go. "Please, I'm begging, I'll go insane if I have to deal with them alone!"

"Now you know how I feel."

"God, I wish I didn't," Eddie sighs, turning serious again so fast that Steve feels like he's getting whiplash. "This whole thing is fucked. Those kids are only, like, fifteen."

Steve hesitates for a moment, before whispering, "I was sixteen, when this all started. Back in 83.x

"Jesus."

"Yeah, it's... I don't know. Like, I know it's horrible, but I like it when it's like this. Everyone in one place, knowing that there's doctors and shit nearby."

"That's not horrible. You know they're being cared for."

"Yeah, but it's worse this time. Like... I keep thinking that one day I'll wake up and we won't have made it. This will be some stupid dream and you and Max..."

"We're still here," Eddie brings a hand up to his head, brushing his hair back. "You can feel it, right? I'm right here. We're not going anywhere."

Steve nods, closing his eyes so he can focus on Eddie's heartbeat.

"You know I love seeing you, right? Just... at least get a wheelchair or something. Please?"

Something is his chest cracks at how Eddie's voice breaks, how pained and desperate he sounds.

"Ok. I can do a wheelchair."

"Good. You start taking care of yourself and we can do this everyday."

"Promise?"

"Yeah," Eddie whispers, hand finally coming to a stop, cupping his cheek. "Yeah, I promise. Whenever and for however long you need. I'll be right here."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #nav.slm

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planete777 · 9 months

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NO IDEA・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. y/n and lando can't get enough of each other, even when another person is present (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, starring max fewtrell, y/n and lando get too horny for him so he dips lol, pwp, lil bit of smoke play??, unprotected p in v sex, doggy style, riding, missionary, lil dirty talk, smoking while fucking, guys this is just filth pt. 2

NOTE. so uhm.. im lowkey shitting out fics,,, two works in one day??? WOW. this is what the summer holidays does to me lolll. i wasn't supposed to be writing this BUT anon slipped into my inbox with this ask and my brain couldn't hold back (i mean... it is high!lando) so enjoy lmao <33 also, once again, dividers are not mine, credit to the rightful owners

the smoke alone that painted the room a misty white was in intense abundance. y/n could barely see more than a foot ahead of her, where max lay, body completely at the mercy of the heavens and sprawled like a dead man upon the couch. lando, sticky, hot body beside her, is just as faded, breaths so evened out, it's almost as if he's subject to a comatosed state.

y/n never knew max smoked, fucking weed for that matter. always seems to be the unsuspecting ones that let themselves undulate upon the highs of drugs, mouth puffing out smoke like that's all it can do. it was peculiar, and a slight bit awkward, when he had asked her to toss a joint, but she did so without questioning.

now, here they were, all three of them, polluting the air more than any manual vehicle could and filling their lungs with the acrid stench of weed that dragged a nip of addiction that none of them bothered to care about.

"man, i could do this everyday," max says, examining the spliff in his hand as if it was something so wonderful. y/n laughs and shakes her head, "nah, it may be good and all, but set limits for yourself."

he hums back, most likely too dazed to care about her cautions, and goes in for another drag. lando drags out a sigh as the smoke trickles out of his mouth like white silk.

"you good baby?"

lando nods, reaching a hand out to rest it on y/n's thigh, "yeah i just," it slides further up, with a trail of heat following as he leans into her ear and whispers lewdly, "wanna fuck you so bad."

she giggles and takes a long, burning drag of her own, blowing the vapour into lando's face.

thing is, lando is horny high. there's never a time where they smoke together and not fuck, but she doesn't ever complain because it's hot, sweaty sex that leaves them buzzing with satiation and wrapped in thick air of smoke mixed with the smell of what they'd done just seconds before.

y/n thought that lando had set aside that urge for the night, considering the additional presence with them, but he just doesn't give two fucks, and that alone makes her skin crawl with need.

his lips are licking sloppy kisses into her neck, targeting where he knows she'll let go, and her mouth opens limply, leaking with moans and sighs.

"fucking hell, mate— while i'm here?" max's incredulous voice punches out, and he swings his legs off the couch.

"you can leave, max," lando remarks dismissively, dick growing too hard, too fast. he slots the spliff into his mouth, inhaling so much that his eyes roll back, before dragging y/n into a messy, heated kiss. it's more of clashing tongues and teeth, smoke weaving through their skins.

the door slamming completely detonates lando, pushing y/n unto her back before stripping her leggings off, panties and all. a wisp of coolness breezes past her bare pussy, and she moans lightly, sucking in her spliff and letting go into the air.

"such a pretty pussy for me," lando slurs, grinning loopily as his eyes hang low and red. his thumb presses into her clit, forcing her back to arch as he rubs it hard and slow.

"fuck lando, keep going."

she can hear how her cunt squelches with his tamed movements, making her pussy throb, practically beckoning him closer. he leans in, blowing a puff of smoke unto her clit before completely attaching his mouth and sucking like he's fucking pussy drunk.

y/n brings a hand to his head, pressing and grinding into his mouth, swivelling her hips with desperation. it feels like heaven, paired with the warm electricity that thrums through her joints from the weed, and she just wants more and more and more.

lando's going feral at her pussy, pushing so deep into her that his nose pokes at her clit and stimulates it beautifully. his hands, spliff still between his fingers and spilling out threads of smoke, push her thighs up to her chest, bulging out her cunt more as it drips like a watering mouth.

"i could eat your pussy forever," he speaks into her pussy as she moans loudly, barely able to bring the joint up to her mouth.

he stops abruptly, evoking a whine from the lips of his girlfriend as he wedges the spliff in his mouth and unties the knot of his shorts, dragging it down. his dick immediately slaps against his abdomen, pulsating and flushed deep red, and he slowly jerks it off from the base all the way to the swollen tip.

"just fuck me, lan'," y/n exasperates, and he relents, pushing all the way in. their mouths drop as they release sighs of relief. y/n relishes in the way her pussy throbs with his dick, clenching and unclenching around him, causing lando to hiss.

"don't do that y/n, i don't wanna cum yet."

he wraps a leg around his waist before pulling back and completely drilling back into her cunt. his cock rakes against the muscles delicious, and y/n can feel every ridge and dip of his dick. her toes curl, eyes rolling as she inhales another drag, blowing out punctuated puffs of smoke as a result of lando's hips slapping against hers.

it's agonisingly snail-paced, but so deep that it compensates greatly for it and all she can do is lay there, all pretty, and take his cock.

lando attaches his lips unto her glimmering collar bones, riding her shirt up with his hands before latching unto her nipple. his tongue slurps and flicks at the skin, making y/n moan and squirm drunkenly.

then lando suddenly flips her unto her hands and knees and stops.

"hold your pussy open for me baby," he pants out, "need a couple drags."

her hands go behind her to spread her pussy apart, swollen, wet and gaping open for lando. he doesn't waste anymore time to slide his dick inside, thrusts just like before, but even deeper, and the girl is completely thoughtless. he smokes with much efficiency now, pushing and pulling his hips alone as his fingers work the spliff between his lips. pleasure from sex and being high sits heavily and perfectly in his limbs, head thrown back as he gradually lets y/n meet his thrusts.

"you're fucking yourself on my cock so well baby," lando moans, slapping a hand against her buttcheek as both their movements grow stuttered.

"i'm gonna cum, lan'— shit."

he feels her walls tighten before she lets go, mouth dribbling with airy sighs and groans as her hands fall to the sofa. lando is still on high, eager to feel y/n for longer and so he's switching their positions, the girl sitting on his thighs as his back rests against the sofa.

"ride me y/n."

"lan'," she goes to protest but doesn't, crawling up unto his dick and sinking down so smoothly and warmly, that lando loses all feeling in his legs.

he watches her bounce and grind on his cock, blowing smoke up into her face as she smiles and revels in the warm air. she looks so filthily unreal, high but so fucking horny for his dick, and he looks at her for so long without blinking that his eyes begin to burn.

"lan' i can't, i'm gonna cum," her thighs are shaking, siphoning trembles through his skin. he grins, slaps her ass teasingly, and tells her to let it go.

liquid trickles down his dick as he shoots his cum into her cunt, high pitched moans tumbling out of her as she's consumed by the high before flopping down unto lando.

"you did so well, baby."

#‧₊˚✩彡 planete.thinks: high!lando #lando norris #lando norris fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 romance #f1 smut #f1 fanfic

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fillinforlater · 6 months

Note

You walking on them like this what would you do 😳😏

Always Caught

Male Reader x Ahn Yujin, Jang Wonyoung

Length: 1675 words

Tags: getting caught, voyeurism (Wony), threesome, cuckold (Yujin), best boyfriend (you), standing sex, rough sex, fondling, fingering

"Sometimes, forbidden things are the most tempting, yeah."

"U-unnie!"

The dice have fallen, the trap is activated, Wonyoung can't move. There's a large smirk on your face, wicked, like Yujin's arms and legs that press Wonyoung to the wall she was just using to eavesdrop. Eavesdrop on who if not her roommate and her boyfriend making love, loudly, lusty, without a care for who might here.

"I knew what you are doing, always have," you get into the conversation and closer to the two entangled girls. It's somewhat cute, seeing Wonyoung fight back, freeing herself, just to surrender her hand back to the world for Yujin to breathe into her ear again. "Yujin was surprised why you didn't complain, but I knew that you had your ear right here.

"You even moved the closet a bit to the left so you can be closer to our bed. Do you like the sounds of it creaking that much?"

"Or is it the moans that get you all giddy?" Yujin huffs and grabs Wonyoung's hips like she's done it a thousand times before. The younger woman melts into the grip like her features melt in embarrassment. From ear to ear, even her cute little nose carrying her loser-glasses, is flushed red.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Wonyoung rebuttals, pathetically weak, her arousal in the air like a stench confirming her bad thoughts and the sinful intentions she was ready to act upon. You know just the thing to break her.

"Oh, then what is this?" Pull out the vibrator from the closet your girlfriend was just hiding in. A short, pink phallus, pointier than a cock and with a wide array of settings that you've used to make Yujin weak during some college reading.

"Th-that's not mine. Yujin-unnie, tell your boyfriend that—"

"You're a voyeuristic slut who likes to listen to their friends fuck? He figured this out himself."

Wonyoung tries to bury her face behind her long fingers, but you reach for her hands and instead stare her down, the amused face of Yujin behind her spurring you on to finish off your crazy plan. You lean in close and mimic Wonyoung by laying your ear on the wall as well.

"Do you hear that? These sweet moans, the groans, how the bed shakes, how the wooden frame creaks, how skin slaps on skin?

"It's a recording, Wonyoung. An audio, a video even, of us fucking each others brains out."

"Do you want to see it~?" Yujin teases Wonyoung and rubs her cheeks from behind while the younger can't help but stare into your horny eyes.

"We can give it to you if you want. An exclusive video, for free.

"Or you can get the full experience. Right. Fucking. Now."

Yujin’s and your hand meet at the spot where Wonyoung’s thong is starting to soak up wetness like a well-used sponge. The two of you agreed on the if and when you wanted to make your move on the young roommate, but not on the how. Yujin wanted to get rid of her skirt, you wanted to hike it up and have it rock back and forth when you rock your rock hard cock into her pussy eventually. Now you and your girlfriend fight for who gets to rub said pussy, the lips, the clit, the entrance—Wonyoung is totally oblivious to it.

“Hng, f-fuck, you caught me,” she exclaims, butt pressed against Yujin’s crotch. Her knees are like butter, making her become smaller than both her friends who take their differences aside to focus on different parts of her holy place. You insert a finger, the long middle one, into Wonyoung’s pussy while Yujin gets to work at the hard nub above. She fiddles it side to side, the same way she does it to herself.

“We always do,” Yujin whispers and initiates a french kiss with you that has the already mewling Wonyoung dazed, dazed at what was fantasy mere minutes before and is now reality: both her hot friends getting at it with her in between, no wall separating her. “Stick out your tongue if you want any of that.”

Wonyoung, the drop dead gorgeous super star in the Uni, who’d be the number one pick in a draft titled ‘Who I would like to fuck the most’ by seventy percent of attendees and profs, looks like a femcel loser with her tilted glasses and stretched out tongue, waiting for some of your and Yujin’s drool to hit it. She’s lucky when something falls, when you decide to integrate her into the kiss and simultaneously ‘integrate’ another finger in her cunt to stretch the rippling hole open.

You and Yujin toy with Wonyoung’s motionless tongue, she sucks it out and stretches it, you bully it back inside and watch it fall out again. Limp is the tongue, limp is her body, but before she falls over, Yujin stabilizes her roommate at the wall. No more stimulation, just two pairs of eyes staring her down. Wonyoung wants to hide the embarrassing arousal flushed all over her fuckable, thin body, but she is exposed to your mercy once more.

“You want his cock?” Yujin asks nonchalantly, Wonyoung carefully nods, the fear of falling into another trap smaller than the pleasure she’s offered. “Why do you think I’d give him to you? He is my boyfriend, his cock is mine, you have no idea how snug I am around it. Why should I give it to you, slut?”

“P-please, Unnie.”

Yujin sighs the fakest sigh since the latest YouTuber apology-video. She fishes out your cock with a single hand and places a finger on Wonyoung’s luscious, drool-glazed lips. “Fine. Say ‘thank you, Unnie~’.”

“Thank you, Unnie.”

Your hands find Wonyoung’s smooth, spotless thighs and dig into them like they are sand concealing a treasure. Yujin joins said hunt for jewelry and helps you lift up the light Wonyoung to prepare your diamond-like cock, ready to drill deep. The way you spear Wonyoung’s labia open is a bit reckless, sure, but you have no other option. It radiates heat and need and Wonyoung is the one to vocalize it by lifting her skirt up for you to see.

“I-I want more,” she stammers when your tip has her innie spread already. “I can take it just as well as Yujin-unnie.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Yujin warns her roommate, biting her lower lip nonetheless when you give Wonyoung all of your dick. There are no more spoken words, just moans and thrusts as your animalistic tendencies overhauls all previous reservations you had about this. Tonight, Wonyoung’s pussy has your focus, in fact, her entire lower body makes you want to take endless pictures of it.

But no recording, not even a world class painting can depict the beauty of her small belly bulging with every deep invasion up to her cervix. No 2k, 4k, 8k video could ever show just how brilliantly her legs tremble in your hands, their entire length stiffening, then shuttering just because there’s a stiff appendage in her cunt. For whatever reason, you all but forget Yujin, who is literally behind the girl you are fucking, helping you carry her, watching closely—

“Yes, fuck that little bitch, that little slutty pussy!”

She announces herself. A well-placed pull on Wonyoung’s blouse and Yujin sends a button or two flying to reveal an exposed, heaving chest with sweat running in between the small, perky bumps. Yujin digs into them and into Wonyoung’s mouth; now you have to gather all your reserves to keep Wonyoung up on your own. Either way you’re good and continue to fuck into her addictive cunt.

“I wanted this for so long,” Yujin screams while Wonyoung screams while you’re about to scream, seeing your girlfriend finger both a stiff nipple and a gaping mouth. Wonyoung’s tongue must be a fun plaything. “I always wanted him to fuck you, fuck, I would have been okay with him cheating on me if only I got to hear him pound you.

“But now, I don’t want to let go of you. I understand why they all are mad about fucking you.”

Yujin’s feverish confession has your mouth dry. Time to stock up on saliva by going straight for her unsuspecting mouth. You relish in how she tries to fight back, it feels like validation, it was the right call to be honest and tell her about Wonyoung’s constant masturbation while listening to the two of you. Now you have the total upper hand and thus press your upper body against both of theirs.

“Rub her pussy,” you order Yujin. “I need her to cum.”

“Yes, fuck, make her cum! I want her to squirt and piss everywhere and become your stupid little fuck hole!”

To say it riles you up—you’ve never felt stronger, more empowered. You give full thrusts, hard, fast, Wonyoung’s glasses almost fall off of her face and you see her irises disappear in her head as a shrill scream as you flash banged. Wonyoung’s orgasm is earth shattering, her walls rapidly wrap around you to maximum tightness. You have to act quickly.

“Where should I—Yujin, where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside her. Inside her pussy!” Yujin grits her teeth. One of Wonyoung’s hands has found its way into her freshly cut hair and this look of determination, pain and unbridled lust has you certain that you’ll finish in a second. A second is three pumps but you fill Wonyoung with a lot more than that. Her pussy is a creamy mess and before you come back to your senses, Yujin is already eating your load out of Wonyoung.

“That poor girl is so overstimulated,” you tell your girlfriend, a weak smile on your face.

“No, no!” Wonyoung complains, arms wrapped around your neck. “I-I, please, catch me again, I want this.”

It must have been at least a hundred times that Wony has masturbated to the thought of you. Time she repays it a hundred times as well.

(A/N: a different take on this scene here)

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #izone smut #male reader #male reader smut #ive smut #wonyoung smut #ahn yujin smut #yujin smut #ive yujin smut

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plush-rabbit · 3 months

Text

Foggy Minds

Word Count: 4.7K A/N: I dont know his body!! So I tried to leave it ambiguous and yeah!! i also wrote this just for the ending bit

It’s a fucking joke. A cruel one. Angels- or at least Exterminators- are known for their cruelty. Raining down from above, a storm cloud that leaves red behind. Even after the destruction and death, the guts and gore that leave a lasting stench, the cruelty isn’t done. The angel Adam still has to bring torment down to Hell.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing is what he is. He can pretend he’s higher than the sinners down below, but he’s just as crude, if not more so than the worst of them here. It’s a tradition at this point for both you and him. He brings hell on hell, and a week later, he flies down once more, calling the club that you work at, demanding for you to be sent to the Heaven Embassy. However, as the next Extermination Day comes close, he’s called for your services once again. You wish you could say no, but he pays quite a lot for you, and you could always use the money..

You hate the walk there more than anything. It’s like everyone knows you’re off to go fuck the Exorcist. You look both ways before disappearing through the doors of the Embassy. Maybe they think you’re getting a meeting with- someone.

The Embassy is empty, and every step you take echoes out in the room. You’re terrified. You always are. It never stops feeling like a trap. Even in the elevator on the way to the suite, you can only stare at the golden doors in front of you, your reflection distorted and twisted.

If you’re going to be honest- you aren’t sure why it’s you who has to come up. It’s Adam- he’s bragged enough about how he can have anyone, and yet, he pays for a sinner’s cunt. You make sure to not feel special, to squash any pride down. Perhaps it’s too tedious to pay for another sinner or hellborn, and it’s best to just get what he knows will be a good fuck. You sigh and look away from your reflection and the glowing numbers. Still, you show up and do your job. You've taken better and worse clients. The angel is just someone in between.

The doors open and you pass a few doors until you reach his suite. You don’t know why the Embassy has so many rooms, and when you tried to ask Adam, he made a comment about how you could have a fuck-a-thon, doing it in each room, and you sneered at the idea.

Your suite- or rather his suite- is unlocked like always. You waste no time, stepping into the shimmering room. It’s livable. A kitchenette on one side, a bathroom with a wonderful shower tucked in the room, and a massive bed pushed to the end of the room. The room is bright, golds and blues, a deep dark wood carved into ornate decorations, and you feel out of place. It’s nice- far too nice for you to show up and defile it with what you’re going to do. The room never ceases to amaze you. There aren’t many places in Hell where the colors are bright and soft at the same time, where things look so pristine and untouched. When you once mentioned to Adam how nice the room was, he laughed and told you that there were far better rooms in Heaven. A part of you still wishes that he would have offered to show you- something, pictures, descriptions, anything.

“Took you long enough!” The angel says, leaning back on the bed. “I pay for your entire time, ya know? From the walk from your whore house to the embassy, the least ya could do is hurry it up. I’m a very important angel, ya know?”

“You ordered me like last-”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “I don’t want excuses.” His hand waves in the air, and he sits on the bed. “Come on, let’s get to it.” You roll your eyes at him as you walk closer. “Oi! Don’t roll your eyes at me,” his voice is laced with disgust, and you remember that he looks down on you- in more ways than you would care to admit. “Come on, strip.” Your hands go to unzip your skirt. “And make it good!”

You bite your tongue. Your shirt is the first to go. The action is slow, tantalizing as your fingers skim over your bare skin, and your skirt follows suit, pooling on the floor. You step out the fabric, and your heels click on the floor. Adam watches you, his hands scratching the bed covers. You spread your legs over his right, and grab his hands, letting them touch your ribs and then moving towards your back.

You can feel the tips of his claws scratch at the clip of your bra. You press your cunt over his robe covered thigh, and grind over it softly. “Please, Adam,” you beg. “Take it off for me?” Your hands rest over his chest, and he watches as you grind yourself over him, your hands fisting over his robe, and you wonder for a moment if maybe you did a bad thing- if this was the wrong move. But then your bra straps fall down your shoulders, and it’s discarded somewhere in the room.

You hiss when his mouth suckles on a breast, the other breast being pinched and pulled at. He sucks so softly, letting his tongue roll over the swelling bud, teething at it so you hiss and arch yourself further into him. You can feel a wet spot grow, and you can’t help but rock yourself over your thigh. The other breast is manhandled, twisted and pinched that has you gasping and fisting holy fabric in your sinner hands.

You're pushed off and his hands claw over your hip. You get the memo, and peel off your underwear, the wetness of it noticeable, and the only mention of it is when Adam pockets your underwear. You wish you bought another pair with you. The heels are tossed aside, and strong hands push you down from your shoulders. You fall onto your knees with a hiss, and you know what you have to do.

“And- And- Oh fuck, that’s it, baby-” He hisses, his head tilted back. The hand fisted into your hair tightens, sharp stinging encouraging you to swallow more so he could let go. “I’m just saying that why would you settle for anything less than-” A moan interrupts his monologue and you look at him through glossy eyes. “Oh fuck. It’s like a fucking gift to suck me off.”

A string of spit and pre-ejaculate connects to your lips as you pull away. It’s thick and white, and you’re gasping for hair, a hand wrapped around the base of his cock and you push yourself to swallow his package, fitting the pair into your mouth as your hand pumps his length. He’s breathing heavily, and you know he's upset at the loss of contact with your mouth with the way that his hand tangles itself into your hair, but his mask is twisted, and you pop them out of your mouth. Your mouth feels dry despite the excess spit- you suppose it’s the salty taste that lingers.

You take him back in your mouth, eager, and begging for him to just spill his seed already. Your cheeks hollow, and he’s heavy on your tongue. Your tongue swirls over a vein, and you can feel him twitching.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he hisses, his hands cradling your head. You hum, and brace yourself, your hands holding at his thighs, bracing yourself for him to thrust forward. His hands tighten, and he thrusts into your mouth. You gag around him, your throat constricting around him. It’s a horrid sound, loud and hollow, and acid threatens to bubble over. As he continues to pump himself into you, spit dribbles from the corner of your lips and you’re grateful that you were ordered to remove your clothes.

“That’s right, take it. Oh fuck, fuck-” a string of curses fills the room, and he’s unrelenting, pushing deeper into your throat. A hand slips to grab at your breast, eyes squinting when you can feel the spit coat over your chest. Your other hand tightens around Adam’s thigh, your nails pinching into him.

Your fingers pinch over your nipple, rolling it over, desperate to take your mind off of the assault of your mouth. His thrusts get deeper and harsher, and he’s still in the back of your throat, holding you down. Curses mutter in the air, sharp and slurring together, and he keeps his eyes on you. The eye contact is far too much, the piercing eyes boring into your entire being, and it must be some type of power play for him. You choose to focus on the base of his cock. With your nose pressed into his pubic bone, you cough around him, and finally he pulls away, his seed laying thick on your tongue. Tears wet your face and mix with your spit and the drops of his seed.

He grabs your chin and you open your mouth, showing the mess that he’s made. Letting go, you stay still, as he taps his cock on your face. It’s tacky with your spit and leaves you feeling much filthier than you would like to admit. You hold the seed in your mouth and he gives a nod, and you make a show of swallowing, and open your mouth to show him. “Did you want me to do a blessing before you swallow?” He teases. “With my holy cum, I grant you the opportunity to fuck me.” He chuckles at his joke.

“Thank you, Adam,” you murmur, hoping that the soreness on your jaw will go away.

“You know, you could learn how to relax your throat. You’d think after doing this for a living, your gag reflex wouldn't be a thing.” You send him a dirty look, and his grin widens. “So fucking sensitive. What did you want me to tell you? That you were good?”

You aren’t sure what mood he’s in at the moment. Sometimes you can tell when he wants to fight with you- where he wants to punish you and call you a sinner as he ravages you, but then there are moments when he wants you to beg for him, to tell him how good he is, how you want his cock more than anything. But at the moment with your skull pounding and jaw sore, you spit out a simple, “Fuck you.” His grin widens, and he hoists you up onto the bed. The stickiness on your face ruins the soft comforter, and you feel too dirty to even touch something so nice.

“I was going to be nice and just fuck you, but shit, you had to talk back.”

A hand grips at your rear, and a finger teases at your hole. You hiss at the contact, and you're glad you’re face down or else you’d never hear the end of it of how flustered you must look. As if reading your mind, he flips you over, your face exposed and your hands immediately cover the lower half.

“Adam-” you squeal, instinctively trying to close your legs only to have them pried apart.

“Don’t worry,” he says casually. “I just wanna look at how wet you got just from sucking on me.” A finger traces against your slick and you watch as he tastes the finger. “Damn, I should have let you keep your panties on if I knew you were going to get this wet.” A finger enters and you squirm, suckling the intrusion further into your softness. “You’re soaked. And all you had to do was suck me off. You know, if I could keep you, I would.” He enters another finger, pushing the two inside until he’s at the knuckles. “I’d give you a nice collar, a nice bed, and all you would have to do is be my little cocksleeve.” He pulls out, and thick strings of slick connect his fingers back to your cunt. He returns his fingers to your cunt, now with the addition of a third. It’s a wide stretch, a sharp pain being overridden with pleasure. “I bet you’d like that. You’d live a pampered life, and all you have to do is keep your pussy spread open for me.”

With a yank, you’re pulled further into the bed. The comforters make a soft noise, but the bed itself doesn’t creak. You watch with half-lidded eyes, focused as he rests on his knees beside you, his cock growing, the scent of it enough to make you go dizzy. You brush your cheek against it, licking at the side of it when he thrusts his fingers into you.

You sit on the bed, his cock pressed against your face, and with a mind too delirious to think of anything else, you pull him into your mind, lazily bobbing his head, as his fingers scissor inside of you.

You breathe heavily, your mind growing fuzzy with the stimulation. He’s slow and lazy, massaging the inside of your gummy walls as he looks down at you taking his cock once more. A hand brushes your hair away from your face, and you pull away, pecking at his cockhead, nuzzling the glistening head against your lips. It isn’t enough for you, and you swallow him once more, humping into his hand when he gives a smart smack to your cunt.

“Turn around,” he orders, and you scamper to do so. You don’t get a moment to prepare yourself, until he’s bullying himself inside of you. Your hands claw at the comforter, and with watery eyes, you see the fabric tear apart underneath your claws. “You’re clamping down hard around me,” he breathes out, and you buck your hips, trying to feel him deeper into you.

Above you, he's heavy, and selfish, pumping into you relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin is harmonized by your moans. He grunts above you, whispering strings of obscenities and few words of praise linger in the air.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts out, “so fucking good.” His breath is hot against you, fanning out into feathered tickles that touch at your body. He’s never been one for intimacy before reaching his peak, always preferring to be lustful, so you never expect him to actually kiss you, but in moments where he rights just at the right spot, you’d wish he do a little more to make it feel something other that whatever this all is.

His body is pressed against your back, hands squirming underneath to grab at your breasts. His hands are rough and unforgiving, pulling and pinching his nails into your soft skin, You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck, puffing and huffing, murmurs about how you feel wrapped around him, and you bury your face into the comforter. Your mouth is slacked open, spit pooling down, as your moan helplessly around him, body taut and nerves feeling as if they’re on fire.

“No fucking wonder you’re a sinner,” he seethes out, his thrusts harsh and deep, enough to have you see stars and think about how as selfish as he can, he feels so good. “With a pussy this good, I bet you had everyone lined up for just a taste.” You let out a low whine. “Yeah, I bet you did. No wonder you were hired at that sex joint. Did you have to fuck the owner to get in? Ha?” His tone is wicked, and you’re unsure if it’s his words or the fact that you’re so close as to what is making you tear up. His weight above you shifts, and by your hair, you’re yanked back. You yelp and tighten around him, tears slipping down. “I asked you a question.”

“I didn’t-” you yelp as he continues to bully himself inside of you- “I didn’t hear it, ’m sorry,” you mumble, your scalp stinging with pain.

“Too fucked up on my dick to even think,” he hisses, pushing you down onto the bed. He pulls himself out, and you whimper, shaking your head and pushing yourself closer to him, your cunt weeping for more of him. “A cock hungry slut is all you are, huh?” His cock is pulled out, and he watches you whine, your cunt gaping and leaking slick that makes your thighs glisten.

“Adam, please,” you moan, turning your head to look over your shoulder. You can feel the drool stick to the side of your lips.

“Please what?” he spits out, his eyes flickering to yours, before returning to your ruined sex.

You let a whimper, high-pitched and desperate. You fall back to the bed, your eyes looking forward, and your hand slips underneath you, fingers peeking towards your cunt, feeling the warmth drip onto your fingertips. “I want more,” you tell him, your words muffled by the comforter. “I want you,” you tell him, hoping that he’d take pity on you for a moment.

The tip of his cock brushes itself against your opening, and you clench around it, your body aching for more. “Nah, you have to do better than that.” Your cries are shushed, brows furrowed and you’re turned over onto your back, “Come on, I’ve heard you beg before.” Two of his fingers enter you, thrusting in painfully slow. “You know what to say already.” Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your fingers twisting the bed sheets into spirals. You shake your head, humping pathetically into his hand. “I promise to make ya feel real good.”

“Adam,” you croak. He pulls his fingers out, and tears gluten over your lashes. “Please, I wanna be fucked.” Your legs tense when you feel the tip of his cock nestle itself inside of you. “I’m just a filthy sinner who needs-” you yelp when he thrusts himself inside of you, the entire lengths filling you nicely- “needs to be fucked by your holy dick.” His hands curve over your hips, scratching softy over your skin.

“A little more, honey, and I’ll ruin that demon pussy for you.” His hands curve over your hips, scratching softly over your skin, his voice low and sweet for you.

“Adam,” you plead, your hands curving over your breasts, “I need you,” you whisper in a haze. “I need your cock in me, I wanna cum real bad. I need you. I need you to fuck my sinner pussy.”

He gives you a lazy smile, and gives a nonchalant shrug. “Good enough.” He pushes himself inside of you. Your stomach coils into a heat, and you suck in a harsh breath when his fingers slip to rub at the bundle of nerves between your legs. “You have a fucking grip on my dick. What is it? Are you close?” You let out a broken moan. Your legs kick up, and wrap around him. “If I cum in you, you’re dealing with it.” His grin is sharp and predatory, and it only makes you drag your hands down his arms.

Your hands reach up, and you hold the sides of his neck, your hands curving behind, and you just feel tufts of hair peek from underneath the mask. A hand reaches to grab your wrist, holding it tightly, and you’re sure you’re going to have a bruise afterward. “You fuckin’ slut,” he spits out. “You think just because you got my mask off last time, I’ll let you look at me again?”

“Adam,” you whimper out, scratching at the back of his neck with your free hand, “please. I just wanna look,” you slur out. You know you’ll regret saying those things when you’ve sobered from him, but sex always did make you softer, needier. You think that must be why he decided to continue to hire you- to see you pant for him and stroke his ego. “You’re so pretty, I wanna see,” you lament. “I wanna- I just- I wanna look at you when I cum,” you stumble over your words, your fingertips tapping against the bottom of the mask. The golden eyes narrow at you, and you can only look for so long until you turn your attention elsewhere.

His mask is tossed to the side, and his irises glow. The hand that holds your wrist loosens, and you cup over his cheek, the stubble on his chin scratching at your palm. “Fuck- Oh fuck,” you hiss out, your heart beating against your chest rapidly. “I’m gonna- Oh my- Adam! Fuck,” you hiss, the knot in your stomach tightening, a pressure building more and more until you’re sure that you’ll burst.

Even as your body shakes, he doesn’t stop. He continues moving his hips, pushing all of himself inside of you, his breath coming out in pants above you, his smile sharp and face flushed. A hand wraps around your neck, and you arch yourself into it, whining and mumbling at how your cunt is still too sensitive, how he has to slow down, but he coos at you, and he tells you how good you’re benign for him, and you hold onto his wrist with your hands.

Adam places his face close to yours, his lips and breath fanning above yours, and you’re stuck staring at his eyes, unable to look away from the gold in front of you. You lick your lips, and you brush against his. He stares at you, and your face burns.

He gives shallow thrusts, and is still inside of you, and you can feel him. You can feel the heat, and the stickiness leaks out of you. He keeps himself there, and hides himself into the crook of your neck. After a moment, he slips out, and you can feel the heaviness of his seed weep out of you in slow and heavy drools.

You lay in the afterglow, chest heaving and sweat and more sticking to your skin. Your body is on pins and needles, and laying on top of the soft bedding, you could fall asleep right then and there. Nestled into a pile of feathers and gold, you could die- again- and be happy with it.

But then the man- the first man- groans and you remember that this isn't the time to play house. You have a job. Or rather, you had one, and now you have to return. You lift yourself up into a sitting position, and you stare at the bathroom. A part of you wants to take a shower, but you fear that if you even just tasted what luxury is, you’d have to be pried out of the embassy.

With a sigh, you lift yourself off of the body and gather your clothes. The lack of underwear is something that you frown upon, but when you look back to the angel, with the demand for its return, you can’t bring yourself to ask for it. You’ve walked around without it before when customers got handsy, this is nothing. Your skirt is tight, and long enough that only a pervert would tell.

“So,” he trails off, lying on his back, “do you wanna cuddle or something?”

Your eyes widen, and as you flatten your skirt, you thin your lips. “Uh, no. No thanks, Adam. I’m uh- I’m good.” You straighten your top, and tap your heels against the floor, the sharp click echoes in the chambers.

“Whatever,” he huffs, “I was just gonna psych you out anyways.” He waves his hand, and cool air rushes around you.

You let out a sigh, looking at the mirror where you stared at yourself just a bit ago. Your hands play with your hair, making sure that when you leave, it won’t look like you just slept with someone. You hum, and tilt your head from side to side, trying to find some sort of mark that would have to be hidden. However, the cool air- his own magic or blessing- has fixed any evidence of indecency on you.

“The extermination is next month,” Adam sighs. Your eyes flick up, and you catch him staring at you- golden eyes piercing into your own, unblinking and unbothered.

“I’m aware,” you tell him, returning to look at yourself in the mirror. You stand straight and let out a sharp sigh. “I think some of the residents are already panicking.”

“Are you?”

Your stomach knots itself, and you remember when you were first bought by Adam- the nervousness, the disgust, the bile burning your throat. It’s all too familiar at this moment. You shrug. “I don’t think it’s set in yet,” you mumble.

“I’ll come by the night before.” You look at the white tiles- the grout filled with shimmering gold, and the tiles patterned with silver and gold lines. “I’ll leave the back door unlocked like last time.” He doesn’t say the words nicely, it’s more like an afterthought, as if telling you this is a bother, but still, he tells you this, and one thing you've learned about Adam is that he hasn't lied to you yet. You fist the hem of your skirt in your hands, and nod. It’s silent, and then he starts again, annoyance laced into his words. “What do we say?”

“Thank you, Adam,” you tell him in a beat.

“Yeah, well, I can't have my favorite whore die.” His wings unfurl and stretch across the bed. The tips of the feathers reach just beyond the mattress, and you shrug. The words hang heavy in the air, and you feel small compared to him. In the mirror, you can see his reflection, his mouth thinning, and his eyes narrowing. “I- uh- I still have you for ten more minutes.” You make eye contact with him in the mirror. “Get back here. I wanna suck on your tits.”

You stick your tongue out, and your hips sway as you walk towards him, your heels falling carelessly to the floor as you rest beside him. His hands are cold as they peel off your shirt and without a care, he tosses it to the foot of the grand bed. A hand cups at your breast, and you can feel his breath fan over your chest, and you wait to feel his teeth bite at you, but you never do. The wetness of his lips trace over the swell of your breast, a peck pressed against the bud, but never swallowing it. Your chest is heavy with his weight on top of you, and the hand on your breast unfurls and curves over your ribs. His wings expand, and they partially cover you, the softness of them akin to the finest blanket in what only money can buy.

Realization as what he’s doing has your body heating, and you worry that he can tell with the way that he’s laid bare on your chest, and yet, he makes no snide comments. This is far more intimate than anything you’ve ever done before. With a harsh swallow, your arm wraps around him, your hand reaching upwards to scratch at the back of his head. Your hands knot into his hair, your nails dully scratching along his scalp. He lets out a low hum in response, nuzzling his cheek over your bare skin in approval.

With a shaky breath, you break the silence. “You know, I was thinking, that maybe I’d uh, give that Hazbin Hotel a shot.” You feel his hands scratch over your ribs, straight, and piercing, and they cling to you as his breath hitches. “I’m not sure I believe in the whole redemption thing, but free housing is nice.” You feel him nod slowly, and you twirl a piece of his hair around your finger. He gives you a short answer, one that is mumbled into your skin and doesn't make its way to you, and his wings inch further up covering more of your body as he brushes his lips against the swell of your breast. You don’t look at the time even when you feel that he’s grown heavier on your body.

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yestrnight · 8 months

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ OBSESSED WITH UR HYSTERIA !

FROM: yan! afab! househusband! kuni / afab! reader

SUBJECT: kuni thinks you're cheating, and the usual hysteria ensues. this relationship has got lots of red flags, like exhibit a: you absolutely dig it when he chokes you out.

( jealousy, choking, masochistic behavior <- reader, reader's kinda crazy in love, scara is too, toxic relationship, is it toxic tho when you both dig it, tribbing, pussy eating, doujin shit once again )

your pretty lil husband is honestly too pretty for his own good.

when you first met him, your seatmate in highschool with too much talent and too little humility, you instantly became a sucker for those haughty purple eyes. you tried to be nice— you can't be a scholarship student acting like a delinquent, now can you?— but scara was… mean. cruel, even. he sneered whenever you were within the vicinity, claiming he might pass out from the stench of gutter, and laughed when you tried to ask him to teach you the lesson.

"is the charity student trying to leech off of me?" he had said one time. "you'd be better off cleaning dishes in my house than wasting your time trying to get a future you'll never have."

you think that was the catalyst… of whatever you've become. because as soon as he walked out the door and your friends came scurrying over trying to comfort you, the old [y. name] died, and something more perverse took over.

you wanted him to ruin you.

you're not a masochist, by all means. you like your arms clean, your neck unmarked, but fuck it's just so fucking different when scara— kuni, now— has his pretty hands wrapped tightly around your bare throat.

"admit it!" he screams, glaring at you with tears and an unmatched expression of hatred and betrayal. "you're fucking your boss, i fucking know it!"

you're grinning, even as your vision becomes blurry from the deprivation of air. laughing, actually, though they barely register in your ears now. you want him carnally that it's actually become instinct. you should be prying his hands off, screaming for help, but you're desperate for more.

"you know that's not right, baby," you coo. "you're the only one i love. i swear to archons and beyond, you're the only person i'd ever love."

then the grip he has on you softens, though the bitterness in his eyes hasn't quite calmed yet. of course you love him— if you hadn't, you would have filed for a divorce long ago with all the shit he does to you. but you dig it, you're fucking in love with him and the way he treats you, and you'd think that he should've known this a long time ago already. but he isn't because kuni's fucking crazy.

guess what, you're even fucking crazier.

"you're a liar," he whispers to you. his purple hair brushes your cheek as he stares down at you eerily. "i don't believe you."

with the way you're grinning like a goddamn maniac? you don't blame him. but you feel that same grin split your cheek as it widens, and your cunt drooling as he straddles you.

"sorry then," you croak, hearts in your eyes like your husband isn't one choke away from killing you. "how do i make it up to you then, babe?"

usually it's you who's eating out scara like a man starved, pinching and rubbing at his t-dick as you watch him scream and rut into your mouth. he forces you to make out with his pussy by pulling your hair towards it, breathless whines about how good you make him feel and how he wants more. now the tables have turned, and it's scara digging his nails into your thighs and fucking your pussy with his tongue like there's no tomorrow. he has none of the care you have when you eat him out, but still all with all the passion and fervor.

"you're mine, you're mine, you're mine, you're mine!" scara growls against your leaking cunt, slurping your essence and letting it smear on his lips. you're in love with the image before you— kuni's angry and teary eyes glaring up at you, lips shiny with slick. "you're supposed to be my partner! i'm the one you married!"

"y–yeah, you are, kuni!" you whimper as he plunges two delicate fingers into your warm hole and curls them. "you're the only one i'll ever love!"

now you could obviously make him a tad more jealous. tease him with some lies about fucking your boss like how he assumes. that'd probably break him and push him over the edge, set an even harder pace that both you and him would enjoy. but you can't bring yourself to say such repulsive things, not when they're against the very nature of your existence. so instead you plead and whisper your love to him while he berates and admonishes you, and you enjoy every single second of it.

he sets a cruel and hard pace, pounding away at you just as good as any dick. you can feel his eyes watching your expression, and you want to watch him too. but the way he has you writhing and arching on your bed, panting as you rut into his fingers— why, you can barely even make sense of the ceiling.

"ggghhh, ngh, kuniii~♡" you whine, sobbing as you rock back into his cruel fingers. "close, close, m' so cloooseee!" archons, you're on another plane of euphoria as he keeps hitting that spot again and again and again. you're seeing stars, and you can hear your keened pitch mixed with lighthearted laughter. close… so close…!

then his fingers pull away, and you scream-sob at the loss of pleasure. dick. but not unexpected. but what a fucking dick.

he smirks down at you, a mirror image of that sadistic high school student you fell in love with years ago. these days he's softened, more huffy and shrieky, but this just proves that he's still got that bully streak you fell for. "you're not cumming without me," he whispers, staring straight at you as his fingers slip into the waistband of his shorts. he pulls it down to reveal his smooth thighs and hairless pussy, and fuck you could come from just the sight alone.

fluttering pink pussy crying slick down his thighs, he shallowly dips two fingers into his hole as his half-lidded eyes eat up your panting and shaking fugure. "you're so pretty," he murmurs, lifting one leg to straddle you again. you groan as you feel his bare cunt squishing against your skin. "it makes sense why so many people want you… you're cool, you're hardworking, and you have this…thing that makes people obsessed with you." he caresses your cheek, twirling a strand of hair around his fingers. "it's worked on me. worked on those stupid men in high school. even at work i can see those filthy cretin staring at you as if you don't have a ring on your finger."

you shiver when his voice dips into a hateful hiss. before you can even ask how he knows that people at work stare, he leans in for a kiss. it's cute and simple at first, the ones that kuni gives when you walk out the door because he's too shy to give anything more. but then it becomes more fervent and passionate, the sum of all his hate and annoyance towards anyone who'd dare lay their eyes on you. he bites at your lip, clashes his teeth against yours, sucks on your tongue till you're sobbing into the kiss. when he pulls away, it's with a triumphant smirk as he stares at your tear-streaked face.

"not laughing right now, are you?" he sneers, wiping the spit on his lips with the back of his hand. "don't worry, babe." he laughs at the foreign endearment. "i'll fuck you so hard you'll be my brainless, laughing slut at the end of the night, yeah?"

"kuni," you whimper, not even trying to be shameless about it when you try to roll back against his sopping cunt. "i love you, only you. you know that!"

his eyes visibly soften, and once more he's just kuni, not scara. "i know," he murmurs, positioning himself at your cunt. your breath hitches when you can feel the heat of his slit on yours. just bareely touching, and you're going crazy over how close to pleasure you are. "you like to act like you're the one calling the shots around the house, fool yourself into thinking that you're the breadwinner while your pretty lil wife waits at home for you stewing in his jealousy and obsession. when in reality…"

his smirk grows as he watches your heart-eyed expression. "you're just as fucking obsessed with me as i am with you, huh?"

not waiting for a response, he grinds his cunt into you, and both of you keen at the same time. he keeps thrusting into your heat, sliding your folds together and letting the fluids slick against each other. lewd squelching fills the air as you two pant and groan against each other, pussy lips making out with each other. you see stars everytime his clit meets yours, and when he sees your head throw back, he grins and grinds down once again for added measure.

"you're so, hah, fucking wet…" kuni simpers, trying his best to sound stable even though his tongue's just barely peeking out from the pleasure. "nggh, are you that turned on from me manhandling you? i could feel your slick through your panties when i was choking you." you let out a eager moan when his pussy slides just right against yours. "archons… i knew you were fucked up."

"s–sorry," you pant out, trying to match his rhythm. he grabs your leg and stills it, shooting you a cocky glance as he continues to lead the pace.

"hmph, apologizing for something you can't and won't change?" gosh, gosh, gosh, his pussy squelches against yours, and even more when he starts rubbing his own clit. you can feel his slick coming out in small spurts. "don't worry. i like it that way. you're fucked up just for me, right?"

"mmhmm," your body is shaking as you nod. "all for you. just for you, kuni."

"you'd kill for me, right?" you nod even more passionately. the expression on his face is downright wicked. "if i told you to drive a knife through your bastard of a boss, you'd do that, right?"

"anything for my pretty husband," you murmur, eyes fixed on kuni's finger rubbing his engorged clit. when they pull away, the trace of slick connects them both. "i love you too much, kuni."

there it is. you've been doing nothing but whisper of your undying love for him all night, but this confession was the one to hit the spot. he didn't want you to just love him. he wanted to make sure that you could think of nothing but your love for him, to attach your soul to his like how he had the moment you two kissed on that school rooftop. he'd burn down the world for you— he wanted you to do the same.

smiling in triumph, he shoots you a haughty look— as if he wasn't just insecure about this and he was so sure of your love for him all this time. "of course you do," he sneers. "where would you be without me?"

going back to his rough pace, he continues to rock into your heat. his fingers slide from his clit to yours, and he rubs circles on it to coax a climax out of you. "come on," he pants. "you're gonna come for me, right? squirt all over my pussy, yeah? i'm so wet for you, only you. you better pay me back."

"cum, cum, cummingggg~♡" you sob. your hands find his and your fingers intertwine. you don't see it, but his eyes widen with the slightest inch before pouting in an adorable blush. "ku~uniii, 'm gonna cumm~!"

"on my pussy, come on," he groans. "let it all out."

something in your stomach snaps, and you're arching into his heat too as kuni tugs on your clit and you start squirting all over him. he makes sure to press his pussy against yours even harder, kissing your lower lips so that his hole can swallow up every drop from you.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, you're so hot," kuni hisses. he pulls away from you and swings his leg over your mouth. he's absolutely fucking dripping— with your slick or his, you don't know, don't care. he pulls your hair to lead your mouth against that pretty pink hole, fluttering eagerly for you to make out with. "come on, bitch," he hisses. "give me a proper apology. eat me out, just like that, yeah, come on."

he doesn't need to order you around— it's basic instinct for you to eat such a warm cunt when it's in front of you. he's rocking against you as your tongue fucks in and out of that hole, head thrown back in ecstasy. "archons, you eat me out so good. ugh, mmngh, cum, cumming~♡"

biting slightly at his clit and tugging it, you elicit a high-pitched squeak form him before opening your mouth. he squirts slick into your mouth too, pressing down to force you to swallow everything he has to offer. you can hear him laughing and groaning above you, smiling down at you in that manic smile he wears when caught in the throes of mind-numbing pleasure.

pulling at your hair, he tugs you away from his cunt with a lewd squelch, and grins down at you.

"put your boss on video call," he demands, taking pleasure in the way your eyes widen but dilate in pure lust. "i'm sure he'd be happy to see two pussies fucking each other for him.

tags: @scara6

#genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer smut #nite.writes

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spidernuggets · 4 months

Text

Jason Todd x Reader

Part 2 to this.

Thanks for the support guys, sending lots of love <3

It's been 2 years or so since you moved out of Gotham. Well. Not moved out moved out. You couldn't leave. Gotham was your home. And even with those painful memories of Jason demanding you to leave, he's still the same person who you shared those long-lasting kisses with, who texted you every 5 minutes while he was on patrol to make sure you were safe at home, who was able to give you the first, real experience of love and devotion for the first time in your life.

But now you feel numb. Every time you caught a glimpse of your reflection from puddles on the ground or the shine of a window, you saw that gut-wrenching, eerie grin of the Joker. The grin of your father who once killed your ex-boyfriend and your passionate love.

But you broke Jason's trust. Maybe if you told him sooner, he wouldn't have cast you out. Maybe he would've sat down for a second and realised you aren't the same person as your father.

Staying at the next town over beside Gotham wasn't a bad idea, however. You were able to reflect on yourself, realising that you had no power over your father, and there was physically nothing you could've done to save Robin. But you've repeated in your head over and over that you are not the Joker. You weren't the ones who committed those crimes. You weren't the ones who killed so many innocent people. The only guilt that would eat at you was that you were selfish and a coward to stand up to the Joker and at least attempt to save someone. Bht you didn't. And you hoped that if someone knew your name, who knew your story, that they'd understand. That they'd be scared, too.

You were able to buy a run down... apartment?..house? Whatever it was, it was, unfortunately, all you could've afforded at the moment. And worse, it reminded you too much of your room in the warehouse. Minus the dried blood. But it had a horrible stench of weed, which took you forever to get rid of.

Unlike the warehouse, however, you were at least able to make it a little more homey. You didn't have any furniture, but you did have a cleaner mattress plus bed sheets, knick knacks scattered across the floors, a fake plant, or two on the floor beside you bed. And lastly, though you really should move on, a framed picture of you and Jason. You put this directly beside your bed, where it would be the first thing you see in the morning.

You know that what Jason told you was cruel. You could never forget it. But you had the decency to understand him. He dated someone he trusted. And unfortunately that someone just happened to be the daughter of his murderer. Of course, he'd think you're working with the Joker. Especially if that camera footage showed that you showed no effort to help Robin.

So, what the hell have you been doing when you went away? Well, as said, you couldn't stay out of Gotham for very long. You always went in and out, just for the nostalgia. Just because you had bad memories in Gotham didn't mean you didn't have good ones either. You just assumed that since your leave, you've been fired from Bat Burgers, so you decided to avoid that vicinity for now.

The real reason, though, was the soup kitchen. You could never step foot inside ever again, in fear that Jason would still be volunteering there, and you wouldn't want him to have a breakdown. So you just anonymously dropped off bags of produce of whatever you could afford during the day and quickly departed without being seen. But you missed the kids. Yeah, Jason made you feel loved romantically, but those kids, they felt like family. And how you missed diane so much, too. She was like a mother to you.

It pained you that you couldn't go see the kids anymore, but as you heard them laugh and yell just from the other side of the entrance, you smiled. You always took quick glimpses of them, and some of them grew taller. Some of them formed freckles on their faces. But your smile would slightly falter when they mention how much they missed you. And by that time, you'd just drop off the bag and make your way back home.

You weren't proud of it, but when you found yourself completely broke, you decided, fuck it, and started nicking a things from grocery stores, just for you to survive. And in moments like them, you think to yourself... am I slowly becoming like...him? You shake your head, thinking that the Joker had committed the most heinous, unforgivable crimes, while vigilantes wouldn't really care for petty theft, and the cops wouldn't give two shits anyway, especially if it's only stores running on the poor side of Gotham being robbed.

God, how you hated the police system. They'd only help when the richies were being mugged. Even Batman neglected the poor. Sometimes, you'd smile when you'd see Jason helping the kids of Crime Alley. The memory warmed your heart. Too bad you couldn't make more memories similar to those ones.

You rushed your quick drop off of fruits and veggies to the soup kitchen. It wasn't much. You think an empolyee spotted you trying to conceal a small box of strawberries in your jacket.

You felt some familiarity when you turned to make a run for it when you ran into somethi- someone.

"oW- literally what the fuck-" You hiss, grabbing onto your scrunched up face, not noticing the person you walked into. "Watch where you're going, nit-" You looked up to glare at the person, but oh, how you could never forget those gorgeous green eyes. Those green eyes you fell too far in love with. The green eyes that would sparkle when its owner would rant about the new chapter he was reading in The Catcher in the Rye. The ones that used to look at you so lovingly. But now, it is replaced with burning resentment.

"You're the one not watching where they're going."

What a familiar setting. But instead of the joking tone of Jason correcting that you're the one not watching their step, he means it now. As if he was some stranger to you, annoyed that some rando foolishly walked into him and tried to blame him.

And suddenly, you're back at the Batcave. Suddenly, you're back on your knees, looking up at the hurt, screaming man who towered over you. Suddenly, you hear once more if I ever see you again, I'll end you.

You don't reply to his spiteful response. But you notice your breathing getting heavy. You try to make a run for it past him, but what he says next makes you stop.

"You're selfish for coming here," he grumbles, barely audible, but you hear it. You hear it so clearly. And it pisses you off. What the hell does that mean?

"I get you hurting me because I was Robin. Because I'm close to Batman. But coming here to hurt these kids?"

You turn to him, disbelief on your face. "Excuse me?" You spit.

"These kids did nothing wrong. So leave them alone. Leave Diane alone. Leave Gotham." He says, surprisingly pretty calm.

You already feel the tears brim your eyes. "Fuck you," you say quietly, choking out a sarcastic laugh as you turned to walk away. But before you can leave his line of sight, you turn to face him once more. "I didn't do shit, okay?! I made a mistake, but I didn't. Do. Shit,"you claimed as you walk away in a fast pace. And this makes Jason fume in anger. Yes, you did. You lied to him. He told you his secrets. You were about to give him up back to the Joker. You put his family that he worked so hard and long to make amends in jeopardy. Right?

Jason follows after you in anger, pulling you through a narrow alleyway. Luckily, the neighbourhood was quiet, and no one was around to see this private situation.

"Don't talk to me like you did nothing wrong," Jason hisses. And you yank yourself away from his grip.

"You never told me you were Arkham Knight. Why do I owe you who I was?!" You snarl at him.

"But I did!" He yells back. "At least I eventually told you because you were always nagging that I was out late! And you didn't even return the favour by telling me you're the daughter of someone I hate the most! You didn't commit any of the same crimes he did? Fine. But you're still an accessory. You stood there watching him torture me. And I bet you stood there with every other victim that he killed, feeling absolutely no remorse. That makes you just as disgusting as him."

By this time, tears were already rolling down your cheeks. Your cheeks burned red, and you could feel a headache forming.

"And the worst part," Jason continues quietly. "I still can't get you out of my head. A stupid itch at the back of my mind saying that I still love you," he says in shame.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. What the fuck? No. No, why the fuck would he say that. That's selfish of him.

"Fuck you!" You yell. "I'm sorry, Jason. I'm so fucking sorry, but I couldn't do anything! You saw it yourself! I was a kid, I couldn't do anything! I was scared! And I did NOT watch him torture you- I wasn't even aware you were there until he killed you! I didn't even remember it was you when I first met you!"

"BULLSHIT"

"IT'S NOT FUCKING BULLSHIT," you cried, panting, your adrenaline dying down. You rake your hair back, tangled between your fingers as your tears begin to dry up.

"I'm sorry, Jason," you sighed. "I really am, I- I'm sorry I couldn't save you. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was but.. but not telling you was protecting you! The fewer people who knew who I was, the safer everyone would be, especially after you told me that you're Red Hood..." You took a breath. "I spent my whole childhood believing my dad when he told me that no one could love me. But then I met you. You taught me how to love and- and how to be loved! And I fucked this up, and I'm sorry. But I'm too tired to keep arguing. I finally accepted that I'm not the same person as my father and- and I'm not going to let you take that away from me because it's the only thing I have left.."

Jason stares down at you. You have no idea what's going through your head, and right now, you don't have the energy to find out what it is. So, you slightly shake your head in defeat and start to wall out of the cramped alley.

"Oh," you say before leaving. "And for your information, I already left gotham. Just stopping for a visit," you mutter before finally leaving Hason on his own.

He shouldn't believe you. How can he trust you?

You arrived back at your house. Your body went limp, laying on the mattress as a final tear soaked through your pillow.

You absolutely hate how you know that you still love Jason Todd. He was the first person to ever help you what love truly felt like but also showed you how fast such a strong bond can crumble in a few minutes.

As Jason is remained to be alone in the alley, he thinks to himself. It's crazy. You've been raised by the Joker. The Joker. How are you raised by such an abomination but still be the most angelic, beautiful person to cross the planet.

He walks out of the alley and goes towards the soup kitchen where he'd start his volunteer work. Before he walks in, he notices the small bag that you left behind. He picks it up and opens it to see fruits and vegetables inside. He shrugs, not trying to think so much about it and heads inside.

As soon as he steps in, he's greeted by the kids, and his gave brightens in delight. But he sees some of the expressions falter.

"Where's Y/n?" One of them asks. "You two are always together... we haven't seen her for a long, long, loooong time," they frown.

Jason was about to awkwardly answer when Diane came up to him. "Jason, my dear boy! How was your rest, honey?" She asks. Ever since he found out you were the Joker's daughter, he couldn't work, he couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep. He didn't have the energy of volunteering, so he rang up Diane saying that he wasn't in the best spirits, in which she completely understood, saying that you would be around to help anyway. He was about to answer to say that he wasn't so sure about that, but Diane hung up, telling him to get a good rest, and that she'll see him soon.

Jason nods and sends her a sweet smile. "Yeah, thanks. Had a lot in my hands at the time," he explains, but Diane shakes her head.

"Don't even worry, sweetie. It's been calm the past few days," she says, looking down at Jason's hands, and a sad look reaches her eyes. "Is that from Y/n? She always left a bag of food outside, thinking she's slick. Tsk, foolish girl," she jokes. "She hasn't been around in a while. You two are dating, no? What happened? Of course, it's not my place to know. But I'm here if you need to talk, sweetheart," she says, placing a comforting hand to his cheek before walking back to the kitchen.

A little girl tugs on Jason's jacket.

"Jay-jay?" She calls out as Jason bends down to her eye level. "Is, N/n okay?" She asks, worry in her face. Jason attempts to send her a reassuring smile.

"I'm sure she's fine," he responds. "She's a big girl, like you. I'll check up on her to make sure she's okay, if that'll make you feel better," he offers.

"You promise?" She asks, holding her tiny pinky out.

Jason sighs. "I promise," he says, intertwining his larger pinky around hers.

Unfortunately for Jason, he never breaks a pinky promise to the kids. And he would never lie to them. So, on Jason's next scheduled patrol, he'll ditch and find you to make sure you're safe. That's it. Nothing else. He doesn't need to speak to you. Just a quick glance to see if you're not doing anything stupid.

Wait.

God fucking damn it.

You told Jason you already left Gotham. How the hell was he supposed to find you??

Shit, right. Diane said you always leave bags of food outside their door. So you couldn't have lived far, right?

Okay, he'll do a quick sweep of the ourskirts of Gotham, then he'll check the edge of the next town over.

It's been a long, tiring night, to say the least. He started searching the outskirts of Gotham around 6 pm and started his search of the next town from 1am.

He was about to give up his search when he heard a man yelling. He looks down to see a figure running out of a 24 hour convenient store as a man in a uniform yells after you. Jason rolls his eyes, hopping down to the roof to stop you.

You run pretty far, but you look back to see if the store owner was chasing you. You smile to see that you weren't being followed, but as you face back forward, your head hits against an extremely hard, metalic surface.

"Fuck! No- why!" You yell, pressing a palm to to your forhead, where the impact was laid. And low and behild, you see the infamous Red Hood standing in front of you.

"You know I'm always not looking where I'm going! Can you at least have the decency not to be in my way!" You hiss, swerving past him. "Besides, I don't want to speak to you," you mutter, heading home, which wasn't that far.

"I'm not here to talk. Anna just wanted me to check if you're safe." He claims as you scoff.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" You sarcastically say, grabbing the keys for your door. Jason inspects your house.

"This is where you live?" He blurts out with clear concern.

"What of it," you mumble, stepping in. Neither of you really commented on the fact that Jason let's himself in, continuing to critique your humble abode.

"There's mould and cracks everywhere," Jason says, looking around.

"Great observation, sherlock. Guess what? I don't care. It's a roof over my head, and it's a 10 times upgrade compared to the warehouse. At least there isn't dried blood everywhere," you say.

"What? You didn't have a proper room?"

"Joker wasn't really a 'world's greatest dad mug' kind of guy." You say, laying on the mattress, keeping one leg bent upwards as the other lays flat. One arm is tucked under your head as the other is laid over your eyes.

Jason wanders around the run-down bulding, looking at your belongings scattered on the floor, which used to sit on the shelves and windowsill of his much more comfortable apartment.

But a shimmer catches the corner of his eyes. He sees a frame, the picture turned away from him, directly beside where your head lies.

He cautiously walks towards you, taking a peek of the picture. And he could already tell, by the smiling faces and puckered lips of the photo, that it was his favourite picture of the two of you. He had a copy of the photo stuck in his room somewhere in his apartment.

And the guilt slowly eats at him.

"I'm sorry," Jason quietly says.

"For what?" You mutter, obvious that you're exhausted.

"Everything I said." He replies, sitting on the floor beside you. "For telling you to leave Gotham, thinking you were anything like the Joker... saying I'd kill you if I saw you again.. I didn't mean it," he says, his voice getting raspier by the second. "It was horrible of me to say."

"It's whatever, Jay... Jason," you reply, shifting to turn away from him, your back facing him. "I'd probably think the same if I were you."

His heart sunk.

"I should've believed you," he says, his voice raising a little. All he needs is for you to say you forgive him for saying all that shit. Because of him, you think so lowly of yourself, and that you love in such a horrible state, where instead the two of you could be cosy, wrapped in softer blankets in his bed in what ysed to be your shared apartment. He doesn't think he can take it if you think so harshly of yourself.

"But you didn't. And... and that's okay. I mean.." You try to hide your sniffle by burying your face into your pillow, but you aren't as discreet as you think as Jason obviously catches you. "I don't think anyone in this world would trust the daughter of a psycho," you try to joke, sending a weak, pathetic laugh.

"But you proved to me so many times that you aren't him. And I completely ignored all those times and started labelling you for someone you're not! How are you not mad- how are you not yelling at me?" Jason says, almost in a desperate whine. He needs some sort of emotional reaction from you. But you look so... dead.

You sigh as you sit up, avoiding eye contact. "Because you were right, Jason. You had every right not to trust me. I broke your trust by not telling you- I couldn't even save you."

Jason shakes his head vigorously. "No- No, no, no. Sweetheart, no," he didn't mean for the nickname to slip out, but no one mentions it. He reaches for your hands, which fit so perfectly in his larger ones. He held your hands in his grasp, pulling them to his chest, making sure you're looking at him.

"I was wrong- It wasn't your responsibility to save me. You were a kid- we were both kids! There was nothing we could've done. We were both kids dragged into Batman and Joker's stupid game of theirs! This isn't either of our faults! And you didn't tell me you were Joker's daughter... and that's okay. I'm sorry it took so long for me to understand why you didn't tell me. The Joker is wrong, Y/n. You can be loved... You are loved. Because I love you so much that it hurts," he admits, brushing strands of your hair away from your face so that he can look into your eyes. And you can look back into his. His gorgeous green eyes that can finally see love again. "And I understand if you don't lo-"

"I love you so much, Jay," you sniffle, smiling at him. Jason's eyes soften as he smiles, his head leabing forward and his lips resting on your forhead. "I'm sorry," you say, and Jason just shushes you, but you continue. "And I forgive you for what you said to me," you quietly say, shifting to lean your head on his shoulder.

"I forgive you, too, my love," Jason replies, his hand reaching up to softly caress your cheek. "I'll stay the night. Okay? Then tomorrow, first thing, you pack your stuff and move back in with me, okay?"

You smile as you nod, your tears finally withering away as you lie down in your bed, watching Jason strip off his heavy armour, laying in with you in just his tactical pants and compression shirt on. He wraps his arms around you in a warm embrace, and suddenly, you feel safe again. You feel warm again.

You feel loved again.

I'm so sorry if this is ass 😭. I really wanted this finished, and it's like 2am. But i really hope you'd still enjoy!! 🙏🙏

Taglist 🏷: @tyrone200 @pank0w @lorosette @havlindzk @achromaticerebus @demonicparalysis @fairyeoll

sorry if you requested part 2 and was not tagged, maybe because of mention priv settings? nonetheless, i hope you like it!

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fettuccin-e · 7 months

Text

A Little Show

Kinktober Day 10: Stripping

Tags: Steven Grant x Reader, afab!fem!reader, lap dance, grinding, unprotected piv (don't be silly, wrap your willy), reader is a former stripper, a little bit of possessiveness from Steven, precious husband Steven is so lovely (w/c: 1.3K)

A/N: So I know I'm late with this day, but it took me like forever to come up with something, and then I remembered our collective husband Steven Grant. I adore writing him so much so I had such a grand ol' time writing this. (I am using these prompts for Kinktober from flightlessangelwings!)

When Steven found out about what you used to do for a living, you’d braced for the worst.

Marc already knew, because of course he did. He probably conducted a full background check on you the moment Steven got the idea of asking you on a date. There was no hiding your old life from him, including being a stripper, just as he wasn’t able to hide from you, including Steven and Jake.

You’d known that Steven wouldn’t react badly. You knew he’d never yell at you, call you horrible names, kick you out of the flat. But it didn’t stop the paralyzing fear from kicking in. Of him letting you down easy, telling you that the two of you were just too different, that your morals just aren’t the same. So when you’d told him, you’d braced yourself for the first relationship you’d ever truly loved to go up in flames.

But fuck, you couldn’t have predicted this. For Steven’s eyes to darken as you describe what you used to do for an audience, his gaze dragging down your body in a way that has heat flooding down to your core. He’s silent for a few moments, and it makes you squirm in your seat. He mumbles something under his breath, definitely to himself, but you need to hear it.

“What, Steven?” you ask, steeling yourself against his inevitable rejection.

“Will you show me?” he chokes out, his cheeks flaming red, before he thinks better of himself, his eyes going wide. “Wait, shit, sorry love, no. God, it’s fine, of course it’s fine. I love you, yeah? Nothin’s going to change that anytime soon, I’ll tell you. ‘M just a bit jealous, y’know, in spite of myself, but fuck, shouldn’t have asked that. Just ignore that, yeah? I-”

“Steven,” you cut off his nervous rambling. “You want me to show you?” You can’t help how your voice dips a little deeper, a little raspier, in a way that you know gets Steven all hot and bothered.

“Um,” Steven clears his throat, fiddling with his hands. He won’t meet your eyes. “I mean, who wouldn’t, yeah? Got the most beautiful girl in the entire world, and-”

“You want me to strip for you?” you whisper, nudging his chin up with your hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. His pupils are blown wide, and you watch the motion of his tongue as it just barely wets his lips.

“Please, love,” he rasps, and God, when he begs for you like that, who are you to refuse him?

You rise above him, and his eyes follow you, unable to tear away for a moment. As you stand, you take a long look at him, at the way his cock bulges in his slacks, the way his hands flex helplessly at his sides. Steven doesn’t have the control that Marc or Jake have, he’s fucking desperate for it.

There’s no music, no pumping bass of the club you used to work at, but God, you find that you don’t need it. The heat of Steven’s gaze is more than enough, watching you with bated breath as you undo the buttons of your shirt, one, by one, by one. You let it carelessly drop to the floor behind you, leaving you in just your bra. You don’t own the same frilly bras you used to, from your old life, but Steven looks at you like you’re wearing the sexiest lingerie he’s ever seen.

You toe off your shoes, grateful for the fact that you just wore flats today, and slowly unzip your jeans. There are so many ways that this is so different from how it used to be. You never started your dances in jeans, never danced without music and dark lighting, without the stench of sex and sweat hanging in the air.

You’ve never danced and needed the man in front of you, loved the man in front of you.

The feeling is heady, lust swimming through your veins and pooling in your cunt. You peel your jeans off slowly, letting them pool around your ankles, stepping towards Steven. Steven, whose mouth gapes open just slightly, watching you like he’s starving for it.

You straddle him on the couch, moving your hips over his crotch in a slow grind that has you both gasping. Grinning at the way he watches your body move like water over him, you reach behind you and deftly unclip your bra in a practiced move. You slide it down your arms, throwing it somewhere behind the couch. You grip onto Steven’s shoulders to hump into him harder, and Steven’s hands flex at his sides as if he’s unsure what to do with them.

“You know what’s different about this than what I used to do?” you murmur, your lips nearly brushing his.

“Hm?” Steven hums absently, watching your body undulate above him.

You smile down at him. “You actually get to touch.”

Pulling his hands into yours, you mold his hands to your skin, nearly shivering at the feel of them. It’s like Steven snaps out of a trace, groaning softly under his breath as he greedily runs his hands over your naked skin, cupping your breasts and thumbing at your nipples in a way that makes your head spin.

“So- so fucking gorgeous for me, love,” he murmurs, tilting his head up for a kiss. You meet him without hesitation, slipping your tongue into his mouth and drinking him in. You hump into him harder, shamelessly grinding your clit into the obvious bulge tenting the front of his pants. "Can I fuck you?” he gasps into your mouth, “Please tell me I can fuck you, darling.”

You’re nodding before your brain can even think of a proper response, and Steven takes his hands off your body to fumble at the zipper of his slacks, tugging himself out without any kind of finesse. It feels like you’re both teenagers, desperately clawing at each other, trying to get closer, as close as you can possibly get.

You haphazardly tug your panties to the side, letting yourself sink down on his cock, slow enough to let you feel the stretch as he breaks you apart. The moans you both let out as you sink to the hilt are borderline animalistic. The both of you are strung too tight, too needy to take this slow.

“God, you’re so-” Stephen punches his hips up into you, making you claw at his shoulders, “so tight for me, my love.” You can only press your forehead to his, meeting his lips in a sticky kiss as you bounce desperately on his cock. He stretches you so perfectly like this, reaching deep inside and the tip of his cock pressing into your g-spot with every thrust. The moans you’re letting out are downright embarrassing, but God, you can’t seem to bring yourself to care.

“How many of them wanted you like this?” Steven grunts against your mouth, meeting you thrust for thrust. “How many of those men you danced for wanted you just like this, bouncing on their cocks like the needy girl you are?”

“Steven, oh my God,” you whimper, letting him guide you as he fucks up into you, his thick hands braced on your hips, holding you tight enough that your skin pales beneath his fingertips.

“You’re mine, darling, no one else gets to have you,” he snarls, in the way he gets when he’s with you, when he’s lost in the feel of you. “This little cunt is mine, yeah? My perfect girl, can’t believe we found you.”

He thrusts into you once, twice, and you’re curling into him, barely able to hold yourself up, as you gush down his cock. You sob his name as he leans forward to press hot kisses down your neck, and you curl your fingers into his hair as you shake through your orgasm.

Steven isn’t far behind, plunging deep into your pussy as it contracts around him, filling you up, claiming you in the most primal way he can.

He holds you on his lap as you both try to come down, keeping you afloat. You lean up to press a gentle kiss to his lips as you finally feel your mind come back to you.

“Have you ever actually been to a strip club, Steven?” you ask, smiling.

“Don’t need to,” he sighs. “Don’t want to.”

You hum. “You might change your mind once you see what I can do on a pole.”

#steven grant love of my life #i just adore him so much guys don't you get it #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant smut #steven grant x y/n #moon knight x you #moon knight smut #moon knight x reader

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bluecollarmcandtf · 3 months

Text

My Found Family

I never grew up with the luxury of family. As an orphan, my childhood was lacking to say the least, and it left me jealous of any kid with caring fathers and siblings. That's why I had to find my family. Nobody's perfect, but with a little reconditioning, I've trained them to be exactly what I was looking for.

This guy is now my father...

"Breakfast is ready, boys!" I call, using my lower register like I'm supposed to, "Whoops! I mean bacon-fest!"

Guttural laughter comes from my stomach even though I don't find my joke that funny. Bad jokes like this have sort of become my personality lately. In fact, my whole life has transformed over the last couple days. A week ago, I would've never imagined myself strolling around my house in nothing but underwear and a robe! My standards for style seem to have vanished along with pretty much every other part of my old way of being.

It happened three days ago at a grocery store, when I ran into this guy in the produce section. He caught me examining avocados for ripeness and walked right up, beginning to talk like we'd known each other for years.

It was all a bit bizarre, but I found myself unable to turn away. He was explaining my life to myself. Well, not my life, but the one he wanted me to live, the one I was meant to live, and I hung on his every word. He was maybe six years younger than myself, but I was to be his new daddy. It was a role I was proud to fill.

"Here you are, son," I grin widely, unable to contain the feelings of pride I have as he walks into the room.

"Thanks, old man," he answers and grabs the plate gratefully.

For a moment, I stand there and stare. My heart beats for my boy as he tears apart the food I made for him. My paternal instincts have been working overtime lately. I can't help but love that boy with every fatherly fiber of my being.

It doesn't matter that I never wanted kids before. Previously, I'd wanted to remain a bachelor forever, but I have them now, and it couldn't feel more perfect.

With a content grin, I turn back to the sizzling bacon and think about my day. Things I used to hate were now what I looked forward to; mowing the lawn, washing the car, cleaning the gutters. I have a full day of work ahead of me to keep this house in tip top shape. Of course, I'll do it all with an ice cold beer in my hand. I never had a taste for the stuff, but my boy thinks I should grow a bit more of a gut.

I know what I say goes around here, but I could never say no to my favorite son...

I obviously have dad wrapped around my finger, but he's not the only member of this family. This next dude is my new big bro...

"Fuck yeah," I grunt and sniff up the ripe stench under my arm, "Smells like a real fuckin' man!"

I toss the barbell down, finishing a new personal record on the bench press and I couldn't feel more pumped. My tank top and sweat pants are drenched with sweat, but I love bein' a nasty gym rat: at least, I do now.

A week ago I was waiting tables at this fancy restaurant, when one of the customers got to talking with me. He was sitting alone and looked kinda sad, so I tried to be friendly and I'm sure glad I did! I got a whole new family out of it. He made me quit my job and move into this sweet place. Now I'm his big brother!

Of course, like all big bro's, I'm supposed to work out in the garage all day. I was never one for weights, but I couldn't imagine my life without them anymore. I like to push my limits and get all hot and sweaty. Then I march around the house flexing and farting all over the place. It's not the most refined thing in the world, but my bro explained to me how much I don't care about hygiene and all that crap.

"Wassup, little man," I call as he saunters in.

"Nothing much," he answers, staring at my arms while I show off my biceps.

"Alright, get out of my space. I'm tryin' to work out," I snarl, acting as tough as possible, "Do I need to wrestle you again to prove my point?"

I definitely didn't used to be like this. I used to be the most polite and approachable guy in the world, always chatting random people up, but that guy's gone. My bro got rid of him and his old family. This new family is the only one I'm interested in now, even if I'm not supposed to show it. I'm supposed to be muscular, rude, and gross. It's who I am now.

"Alright, I'll leave you to it," he replies, "You can wrestle me though."

"I will," I frown, flexing even harder, "And this time, I'll win!"

Whenever we wrestle, I always end up with the urge to let him win. It sucks because I could easily beat him, and I should put him in his place, but for some reason, I just know I have to let him win. He just deserves it I guess.

I give him an intense glare and then return to my weights. These arms aren't going to pump themselves...

My big bro always makes my legs quiver, but I love seeing how cocky he can get. Of course, he'll never out wrestle me no matter how big he gets. I programmed him to let me win. Just like I programmed the breadwinner of the bunch...

A short groan rumbles from my lips. For some reason, everything has been disappointing me lately: my sons, my husband, my job has all been leaving me grumpy and frustrated. Even the channels on the TV aggravate the living hell out of me. I have to fight the urge to chuck the remote across the room.

"How was your day, honey," my husband asks, walking into the room and handing me a beer.

"Great," I moan without any emotion.

Everything's been changing so fast lately, and I couldn't be more over it. I was married to my work, busting ass for years to get promotion after promotion, and I had a job I loved that paid extremely well. I couldn't be more happy, even if I was the only unmarried guy in the office. I didn't mind. I loved my bowling league and my solo trips to Vegas too much to settle down.

Then I met him, my son. Well, he wasn't my son at the time, but after talking, I quickly realized who he was and who I was to him. I'm the head of the household, the disciplinarian, the breadwinner. At least, that's who I've become.

"What's for dinner?" I grunt, peeling my eyes away from the TV.

Looking at my husband, odd feelings bubble up. I used to know him as my neighbor, a nice enough guy, but now I'm married to him. It all happened so fast. He's changed too recently, I think. The guy I knew a week ago would've never walked around all day in a robe and underwear.

His hand reaches out and holds my own, "Steak and potatoes if that's alright with you."

I grunt in agreement, turning back to the TV. My husband's presence stirs my cock to life, straining my member against my work slacks.

This is another new development.

Until now, I'd never had a gay bone in my body. In some ways, I still don't, but my son explained how I should feel about my husband. I should love him, I should be turned on by him, and I should get it on with him. He's right, I suppose.

"Hey, I could use a blow job before you get cooking," I gesture to the thick tent in my pants.

My husband pauses for a moment like he's unsure of what to do, but then it comes to him, "Of course, babe, but we need to be quiet. Both of our boys are home right now."

"Don't worry about it. If they walk in without knocking they'll get the belt," I snort as my husband gets on his knees in front of me.

"You shouldn't be so hard on-" before he can finish, I've shoved his face into my crotch.

Somehow, I know I can be rough with him, just like I can be rough with our sons. I'm the man of the house after all. Within seconds I'm grunting in pleasure while staring at the evening news broadcast. For some reason, I always find myself watching it and complaining about current events. It's just who I am now..

I grin, sneaking a peak at my two dad's going at it in the living room like the good little couple they are. My new family couldn't be more perfect, but no family is complete without the dog...

"Ruff!" I bark, gleefully scampering over to the bowl of food that was just placed on the floor.

Without hesitating, I shove my face into the bowl, sending the little pellets flying everywhere. They taste like cardboard, but for some reason, I can't get enough of them! I've done nothing but drool and whine for the last hour while the real humans eat their dinner at the table.

"That's a good boy," a voice coos, and I feel fingers running through the hair on my head.

I can barely acknowledge being petted. I know I'm supposed to act like a hungry animal right now, so that's what I do.

I would've never thought I'd find myself as a house pet, but a couple days ago, this guy just walked up to me and talked me into it. It'd just been a normal day for me, working at the car garage when he became my master. I knew right there and then that I had to drop to my hands and knees and follow him home with my tongue out.

My new life has been great ever since. My masters play ball with me outside, they hose me down when I get muddy, and they snuggle with me on the couch at night. I barely even miss my old work and fiance!

"Alright, boy," one of my master's commands, "That's enough. Get in here!"

It's the mean one. The one who used to own this house, but is now just a working dad. He's always the one who hits me with a newspaper when I drink from the toilet. I don't know why, but I just feel compelled to do it!

Licking the bowl clean, I abandon it and crawl into the living room. There, the entire family is gathered around the television.

I stop by the smelly one and sneak in a few licks. I love licking him because he's always salty with sweat and smells funny. After licking his feet for too long, he kicks me away, "Leave me alone, mutt!"

"Oh don't talk to him that way," the nice one adds.

I climb on the couch and curl up beside him. His belly is always the perfect cushion for my head to rest on, and he always lets me lick his beer bottle when he's done. Within a couple minutes, I'm drifting off as his hands absently play with my hair...

...sitting with my family at night is always my favorite part. Watching TV with my two dads, brother, and dog heals the child in me that had always yearned for this. Sure, it might be easier to just go to therapy, but this is sure as hell a lot more fun!

#gay hypnosis #gay mind control #mind control #hypnotized #hypno story #gay ai art #male transformation

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gureumz · 8 months

Text

oh, you're the girl?

like a freak, like a g [installment 2]

rating: explicit

member: heeseung

premise: news travels fast in the frat house. and so do your bedroom noises, apparently. if you wanna sleep your way through the frat, it might be best to keep it down. or don't.

notes: fem!reader, greek life!au, university!au, dom!heeseung, unprotected sex, dirty talk, degradation, breeding, slight begging, mentions of stealing reader from jake, mentions of drugs

a/n: second installment of the 'sleeping around the frat house' series! and so the drama begins. don't worry if jake's installment is shorter than this, he will be coming back in the future installments heh. in the meantime, enjoy your stay with heeseung ;) *divider by cafekitsune

it's fucking horrendous how much the frat house reeks of weed tonight. you're surprised cops aren't banging the door down at this very moment as you're sure the stench has at least a 1-kilometer radius from its point of origin.

the music rings loud in your ears as you shuffle through the crowd of people hollering at the beer pong game in the living room. you bite your tongue when you feel a girl jam her elbow into your side, not even an apology or at least an apologetic glance given your way.

you sigh, trudging on, eyes scanning the faces of the people around you.

jake did say there was going to be a party tonight and that you're welcome to seek refuge in his room while people rage downstairs. but you have needs and one of those is food, and while you would prefer to not have the smell of cannabis sticking to your clothes, you are hungry. the last meal you had was the lunch jake ordered for the two of you nearly twelve hours ago.

you vaguely remember jake getting up to shower roughly an hour after the two of you finished what must have been your third round. that's when he told you about the party. you hummed dismissively, planning to leave even before the party starts.

but apparently, jake must have fucked you real good, because you knocked out for hours after you drifted off to sleep at the sound of jake's soft humming in the shower.

so here you are, scouring the party for your technically-not-boyfriend, wanting nothing more than to see a familiar face.

you reach the kitchen. no jake.

you peek through the window to look at the front yard. still no sign of jake.

you stumble out into the backyard and see that of course, it's a pool party, with about fifteen people crowding inside the water, spilling beer everywhere. because drunk and high college students around bodies of water are totally safe and fine.

you're about to storm back inside the house when you feel a warm presence materialize behind you.

you squeak in surprise when you find yourself face to face with one of jake's friends, his broad frame seemingly shrinking you in comparison as he eyes you down. you've seen him a few times before as his room is next to jake's. but you cannot for the life of you remember his name.

"are you okay?" he asks. his voice is smooth and clear, indicating that he's probably not as inebriated as everyone else.

"yeah, i'm just looking for jake," you explain. "you don't happen to know where he is, do you?"

the friend smiles, eyes flicking up and down briefly over your body.

"oh, you're that girl. the one jake fucks around with," he says, as if stating a well-known fact and not a semi-personal detail of your life.

your cheeks heat up as you nervously glance around to see if anyone's close enough to overhear.

jake's friend laughs, nudging your arm playfully.

"i don't know how to tell you this but there's no point in keeping it a secret. everyone in the house is well-acquainted with your...noises," he says, winking.

you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

"yeah, well, do you know where jake is?" you press on, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"he's off buying more booze," the friend states. "he just left, actually."

a twinge of annoyance tugs at your chest. he leaves you in his room and not even a text to tell you where he's going?

"you can stay with me for a bit," the friend offers. you study his face and he smiles, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"we can crash in my room," he adds, thumb jerking upward towards the direction of the house's second story.

you sigh, the beginnings of a headache creeping up behind your eyes.

"sure, yeah, i guess."

he smiles holding his hand out to you. you take it and let him lead you through the party. as you exit the kitchen and re-enter the living room, it seems as if the number of people have doubled, jostling you about and nearly knocking you off your feet. you feel jake's friend wrap an arm protectively around your waist, tugging you along towards the stairs.

he doesn't let go until you're right in front of his door.

the name 'heeseung' is spelled out in those small felt letters, the ones used for scrapbooking, stuck smack dab in the middle of the door.

'cute,' you think as you chuckle quietly to yourself.

"what's so funny?" heeseung asks, a playful look on his face. he swings the door open and motions for you to enter.

you shake your head. "nothing. the name on the door is just very middle school."

heeseung laughs, following you as you step inside the dimly lit room. a sunset lamp is turned on in the corner, casting faint shades of yellow, orange, and hints of purple and pink on the walls.

"it helps when the others drunkenly drag girls up here during these parties," heeseung explains. "you'd be surprised at how they forget which room is even theirs when they've had enough to drink."

you giggle, plopping yourself down on heeseung's bed.

"wait—are you the one that i'm hearing about lately? the girl that's trying to sleep her way around the frat?"

your smile fades as you remember the conversation you've had a week ago with jake. or more appropriately, the challenge jake sprung up on you that you so recklessly accepted.

"uh...," you begin, avoiding heeseung's eyes.

"yeah," you finish simply, shrugging. what else is there to say?

heeseung grins, clearly amused. he keeps his eyes on you as he empties his jean pockets of things, setting them down on his desk. keys, a wallet, a square foil wrapper—oh, wait—two square foil wrappers and—

"why do you have so many condoms?" you ask in mild disbelief.

"i'm director of operations, which just means i manage the house and make sure no one comes home one day with a baby," heeseung rattles off, picking up one of the condoms and brandishing it at you.

"hence, the condoms."

he points to a drawer in his desk. "there are two more boxes there. no frat babies on my watch."

you afford yourself a laugh. heeseung smiles along, stretching his lithe body out. your eyes observe the shift of his muscles under his shirt, the curve of his ass in his jeans, and the way his hair falls messily into his eyes.

heeseung groans in satisfaction and you rip your eyes away from his pecs.

"so, director of operations...," you say, raising a brow at heeseung.

"ah, jake did mention you were narrowing your, er, conquest to the executive committee," heeseung muses as he makes his way to you.

you crane your neck up at him and from this angle, you can easily lean forward, undo his belt, unbutton his pants, and—

"that's five more people to go through, including me," heeseung says with a grin. "you sure you can handle that?"

you scoff, shaking your head. "i really hate it when people underestimate me."

"i'm not underestimating you, sweetheart," heeseung denies, holding his hands up as if in apology. "i'm just wondering if you know what you're getting into."

you cock your head to the side, eyebrows knit together.

"jake might be willing to share, but the others?" heeseung stops there, whistling lowly.

you think about it for a moment. six guys, some you haven't even met yet. unknown kinks and fantasies. uncharted territories. he's right. what have you gotten yourself into?

"also, just a side note, we get tested every three months," heeseung says, pulling you out of your thoughts. "it's an initiative i started. we just had our last test the other week and everyone was clean."

you nod along, admittedly impressed.

"you're very efficient as the director of operations, heeseung," you compliment. a bashful smile spreads on his lips.

"thank you," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"i'm efficient in a lot of other things, too."

you swallow. you can see where this is going. you know heeseung locked the door earlier, and the show of condoms wasn't an accident, either. it's dark in this room but you know the look in heeseung's eyes.

your first actual conquest in your mission to see if you could sleep your way through the frat.

"really?" you ask, trying to stretch out the inevitable limbo, the in-between, the not-knowing of whether you're permitted to move to the next level.

"and what might those other things be?" you add.

heeseung laughs, sounding exasperated. he leans down and you back up, scooting further up his bed. heeseung plants one knee on the mattress, his arms on either side of your legs. he's not trapping you in. not yet, at least.

at this point, it's anyone's game.

"baby, let's just do what we came here to do."

that easy, huh?

turns out yes, it's that easy. because your legs are parting and heeseung is sinking between them, one hand reaching out to hold your face steady. his other arm braces against the headboard as he finally cages you in between the wall and his broad frame.

heeseung kisses you, rough and spontaneous and intense. you groan against his lips, your hands laying gently on his neck. you can feel his pulse and his heart is absolutely racing.

"come here," heeseung mutters, pulling you forward. he pulls you over himself as he sits back, your legs on either side of his thighs as you straddle him.

"say 'red' if you want to stop, okay?" heeseung whispers, a hand smoothing up your back.

you nod, perching yourself on heeseung's lap, resuming your assault on his lips. you bite down gently on his lower lip and he moans, nails digging into your sides.

you're about to lose your damn mind.

"fuck," you whisper as you feel heeseung roll his hips up against your core. he smirks, his mouth working its way down from your jaw to your neck.

"don't hold back on me now, baby," heesueng coos. he pulls back and looks at you, tucking your hair behind your ear. "i hear you every time you're next door in jake's room. wanna hear you do the same for me."

you bite your lip, your whole body heating up now that you're confronted with just how loud you are.

"come on," heeseung urges, pushing your shirt over your chest. you wordlessly put your hands up, letting heeseung tug the garment off you.

heeseung reaches behind you and snaps your bra open in a second. you shiver as you feel him pull your bra off.

he must have done this a thousand times before.

you let out a breath as heeseung dips his head, lips capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. his hair tickles at your chin and you can smell the faint scent of his shampoo. you smooth your fingers through his silver locks, tugging lightly when you feel him bite down.

"i'm not hearing you," heesueng mumbles between your mounds, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin. his fingers reach for your other nipple and he pinches down, hard.

that's when you let out a shriek of surprise, grip tightening in heeseung's hair. he hums, sucking on one spot right in the middle of your sternum.

no low necklines for you any time soon. or maybe you'll wear them, anyway. see what jake has to say about the hickey his friend left on you.

heeseung slides you off him, guiding you down onto his bed. he taps your hip.

"off," he says curtly, referring to your jeans. heeseung pulls back and gives you the space to tug off your pants, his own hands frantically pulling off his own clothing.

a minute later, the two of you are left in nothing but your underwear.

heeseung takes ahold of your thighs, spreading your legs wider. you hear him breathe in as he eyes your core.

"you're such a nasty whore," heeseung says abruptly, his hand coming down to slap your pussy. you gasp, lurching forward in surprise.

heeseung presses a hand on your stomach, applying the smallest amount of pressure. it's a warning. stay still.

"getting wet at the idea of fucking your boyfriend's friends," heeseung sneers, smacking your sensitive mound again over your panties. you whimper, shaking your head.

"n-not my boyfriend," you sniffle. "he's n-not."

"still," heeseung responds. another loud smack. harder this time.

"what kind of person lets a whole frat house slut them out? a dirty fucking whore, that's what."

you feel tears prickle at your eyes as heeseung lands a few more slaps on your aching pussy. you're drenched at this point, making a mess for sure on heeseung's sheets.

heeseung practically yanks your panties off, revealing your glistening cunt. he licks his lips, the pads of his fingers pushing lightly against the relative area of your clit.

your back arches slightly off the bed. your whole body seems to shake of oversensitivity.

heeseung hurriedly discards of his own boxers and your mouth instantly waters as you're greeted with the sight of his cock, long and girthy, tapering off perfectly toward the tip.

heeseung props your legs open, aligning himself with your entrance. your eyes meet and you look at him, confused.

"what happened to your whole 'director of operations and no frat babies under my watch' spiel?" you ask.

heeseung snickers. "i'm a bit of a hypocrite, baby."

he pauses, studying your expression and waiting for you to say something. the safe word. your teeth worry at your bottom lip but you nod.

"go ahead," you whisper.

heeseung nods as well, pressing himself against your leaking entrance. your mouth falls open as heeseung manages to squeeze in half of himself in you. he pauses, planting his hands firmly on your hips. he pushes all the way in, pulling you down on him at the same time.

you both gasp.

"oh fuck," heeseung curses. you clench down on him and he grunts.

heeseung starts to move, and if there's one thing you know about him by now, it's that he wastes no time. he's ramming into you relentlessly after only a minute, your head spinning as your mind tries to catch up with your body.

he feels good stretching you out like this, that's for sure. your pussy squelches each time heeseung pushes in, proof of just how wet you are for him.

you're moaning uncontrollably now, heeseung's hips snapping up against yours. looking at him, his forehead creased, eyes squeezed shut, it dawns on you what you've started.

if all the other guys on the executive committee would look just as good as heeseung does right at this moment, buried to the hilt in your cunt, then maybe you are a nasty whore.

"heeseung, heeseung, heseeung!" you cry out, unable to contain the pleasure coursing through your body.

heeseung leans down to press his lips messily onto yours. tongue and teeth and spit greet you as you kiss him back. you wrap your legs tightly around heeseung's hips and he lets his eyes roll into the back of his head.

"baby, oh god," he says, pressing his forehead against yours.

"you think jake will mind if i cum inside this pussy?" heeseung whispers, his breath ghosting over your face.

you can't help it. you moan out like a cockhungry slut at heeseung's words.

"please," you beg. "need your cum, need it inside me."

heeseung chuckles darkly, pulling away slightly. "you need it? gonna go around and tell my brothers that you need their cum too?"

you shake your head, though you're unsure why you're doing this because you know heeseung's right. maybe at this point, you've truly gone dumb over cock. heeseung's cock.

"no, no," you protest. "n-need your cum now. need it, want it so bad."

heeseung wraps his arms around you, pressing your bodies close together. he buries his face in your neck as he continues to fuck into you shallowly. your belly tightens as your own release approaches. the friction of heeseung's abs against your clit pushing you closer and closer.

"gonna cum," heeseung warns. "gonna cum inside this pussy, god—"

you feel heeseung twitch inside you and a final drag of his toned abdomen over your nub sends you over the edge. you tighten your hold around heeseung as you sob onto his shoulder.

the two of you lay still for a few moments, breathing heavily. you hold each other close for another minute before heeseung pushes himself off you, sweeping his sweaty hair back.

he grins down at you before kissing you lightly.

"i might need to steal you from jake after this," heeseung jokes as he slowly pulls out of you. he grabs a towel hanging off his desk chair, holding it between your legs.

you laugh weakly, your head lolling to one side as you feel exhaustion wash over you.

heeseung plops down beside you, arms automatically winding around your midsection. "you can stay here for tonight."

you hum in contentment, snuggling up to heeseung.

---

jake is frantic as his call is unanswered for the fifth time. where the fuck are you?

the party has mostly died down by now and he thought you probably had gone home. that's when he started calling. two missed calls. no problem. you weren't a phone call type of person, anyway.

he asked everyone who he thought might know you at this party about your whereabouts and if they saw you leave or not, but no one seemed to know where you wandered off.

hence, five more missed calls.

"you alright?"

jake looks up from his phone to see sunoo dragging a plastic bag behind him, halfheartedly picking up stray cups and chucking them into the bag.

"it's ______. she's not answering," jake complains, pressing the 'call' button once more.

"oh her," sunoo says with a knowing smile. "i saw her with heeseung a few hours ago. they haven't gone back down since."

jake pauses, immediately ending the call. he sighs, half wanting to laugh and half wanting to punch himself.

so, it's started. alright, then.

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #heeseung smut #heeseung scenarios #w: heeseung

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 8 months

Text

How You Turn My Word; Chapter 2

The day continues, and this time you find yourself in an entire new world... a world called The Underground.

Character; Lilia Vanrouge

Content; Gender-neutral reader, more shenanigans, reader isn't happy

Content Warning; Intoxication (Lilia), swearing

Word Count; 2.7 K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Don't put my work into AI; I'll make sure you end up in the Bog of Eternal Stench.

Lilia’s night was not going according to plan and he was mentally cursing himself over it.

Thing Lilia did not plan for #1; he got lost. To be fair though, many a thing had drastically changed since the last time he romped around the mortal realm. A few hundred years would do that though. Humans now seemed to live in tall metal boxes rather than the humble cottages of ages past.

Thing Lilia did not plan for #2; a red flower deceiving him and containing something akin to liquor. So he was flying around lost while under the influence, which only worsened his situation. (Lilia did not know it, but the red flower was in fact a hummingbird feeder with sugar water which had been left out in the sun for too long and had fermented. Make sure to change your hummingbird feeder often on hot days so you don’t cause a nectar-loving friend to fly while wasted)

Thing Lilia did not plan for #3; getting himself stuff in one of those tall metal boxes, and he was now stuck inside some cursed metal labyrinth. At least it was not iron or silver, as it did not burn, apparently, humans no longer fortified their abodes with those metals. Perhaps the times have changed for the better?

But Lilia finally escaped the infernal metal labyrinth, perhaps luck was finally on his side tonight after all! He bumped around a few corners. My my, what a small hovel. Perhaps things have not changed all that much from the last time I was here… But Lilia was rudely pulled from his thoughts when something swatted him clean out of the air. And the culprit? A rather rotund grey cat with large blue eyes, which was now carrying Lilia into its lair, most likely to play with him for a bit before deciding that it had had it’s fun and ultimately put him out of his misery.

His night went from a jolly and somewhat embarrassing tale he would regale about at the local tavern, to a bedtime story parents would tell their children about the dangers of going places that you really shouldn’t. Should he get out of this sticky situation Lilia would not live this incident down.

The cat placed Lilia in a collection of socks and then sauntered off, calling out at the top of its lungs. Great, it's getting company for supper, and I’m the appetizer. How lovely. But Lilia knew he would have a better chance of getting out of this situation if he stayed calm and waited for an opportunity to escape. Even while tipsy, he could keep his cool.

And the feline was back and yanked Lilia out of the sock hole. Cracking open his one eye he saw that the cat did not come back with its hungry friends, but rather, a human. That was both good news and bad news. Good news; he most likely was not going to be eaten tonight! Yippee! Bad news; the last time he was in bat-form in a human’s abode, he was chased around with a torch, which he really did not want to go through again. So his best course of action was to play dead in this situation.

When the human left the room though, he took his chance and took flight once again, trying to find a way out. The cat was trying to catch him again, but Lilia knew of its tricks this time and dodged every swipe it sent his way.

But he was pulled out of his thoughts when the human screeched at the cat, “YOU CAUGHT A FUCKING BAT?!”

Oh yeah, they did not sound happy, not at all, but it seemed to be directed more at their feline companion rather than him.

As he was busy flapping around, trying to find an escape but to no avail, he also heard the human whispering to him. “Don’t fly towards my head, bat. I’m just trying to get you back outside. You’re a nice bat, right? Nice bat, nice bat.”

Were he not preoccupied and in a better state of mind, Lilia would have been amused by this. Currently, though he was occupied with trying not to be eaten and finding a way out of this cursed place. He was not in a laughing mood. All Lilia wanted to do was get back home, pass out in his bed but he would also be happy with his sofa as well, and pretend that this was nothing more than a bad dream after a night spent tavern hopping. Dealing with a horrid hangover would be better than this… and he was most likely going to have one of those anyways. Tonight really wasn’t Lilia’s night, not at all.

Then the human grabbed the cat, and Lilia was finally left alone. The window was open, but he didn’t know that, as his mind was too preoccupied with you know, not dying, that he hadn’t noticed that the human had opened it for him. So where did Lilia go? Well, he went back into the metal labyrinth (air duct), and fumbled around until he tired himself out. It wasn’t the most ideal of spots to crash for the night, but it was better than going back and possibly being eaten, Lilia would rather avoid that. So this was going to be his bed for the night, a lonely quiet corner of the air duct system, where he could hopefully wake up sober tomorrow. But he yearned for his warm quilts that awaited for him back at home, back in Faerie, or as some call it, the Underground.

Lilia wasn’t even supposed to be in the mortal realm in the first place, but curiosity had won him over, and he even ignored the travel advisory that was in place. Some crow fae had travelled there about a century or so ago and had yet to return back, hence a travel advisory. But yet here he was in the mortal realm, tiny, drunk, and utterly lost. His bad decisions could be looked into further detail once he got some shut-eye. So he wrapped himself in his wings and passed out in the corner of the air vent. Hopefully, when he woke up he could turn this disastrous day around.

…

Upon waking up, Lilia groaned — or rather, in this case, squeaked — and stretched his wings out. So the wretched metal maze and last night's fiasco was not some liquor-hazed dream; how lovely. Utterly delightful.

At least the strange maze echoed sound quite well, so he knew what exits to avoid. Not that one, he could hear a dog barking, and the feline encounter was enough for him. No, not that one either, he could hear children screaming.

Finally, he came to an opening, there was some quiet chatter, but it was far enough away where Lilia felt comfortable enough to explore this potential escape route.

Why does this look familiar? AM I BACK IN THE BUILDING?! Yes, yes he was. At least there was no sign of the ca–

“Mrp?” Speak of the devil.

The cat got out of its den and lept at Lilia, who dodged the attack, and the cat pushed some books off a desk. The cat was also screaming at him, and causing an all-around ruckus. Lilia managed to outmaneuver the feline, but soon a brand new human came into the scene.

The new human took one look at Lilia and backpedalled out of the room. But the human had just created another escape route for him, and Lilia flew, well, like a bat straight out of hell for it. Too bad the next room contained two more humans, including the one he had encountered from last night… maybe they would be nice again and spare him for trespassing on their small abode?

In the midst of the chaos, the human from last night knocked him out of the air with a broom. Okay, that hurt little Beastie. But that swing and the crash landing into a table caused Lilia to shift back into his human form, which also caused sparkles to happen. Did humans still think magic was evil? Well, he was about to find out.

Everyone remained silent, and after the sheer noise of the chaos, it was deafening, even the cat was quiet. And Lilia stared at the human that had knocked him out of the air, you. And you were staring straight back at him, looking utterly baffled. Well, this is awkward… I think I have overstayed my welcome…

Lilia snapped his fingers, and he started to disappear into sparkles yet again, this time going home since he wasn’t able to use his magic when stuck in bat form. And it was happening without a pinch, but you seemed to trip on thin air and crash landed on his feet, disappearing with him; a stowaway coming to Faerie.

… Well this is no good now, is it?

…

When the green sparkles subsided, you found yourself sitting in some sort of bog, and the water had made it into your mouth by some twist of fate. While you were busy spitting the bog water out of your mouth, the stranger was standing by the bank, dry, without any sulfuric-tasting water in his mouth, and looking better for wear.

Pulling yourself out of the bog water — eugh, you smelled like eggs now, great — you pointed an accusatory finger at him, water dripping from the end. “Where,” you spat out some extra bog water from your mouth, “am I? And why does it reak of eggs?!” You would have looked and sounded more imposing, but you were sopping wet, covered in mud, and spitting out coughs trying to get the bad taste out of your mouth; which wasn’t really commanding any sort of respect.

The stranger, Lilia, snorted before letting out a cough, trying to hide his amusement very poorly. He waved his hand, green sparkles surrounded you and you were now dry, still covered in mud, but dry. “Faerie, although some call it the Underground.”

You opened your mouth, but he wagged his finger at you. “And before you blame me for bringing you here, you have no one to blame for this but yourself!” Despite the cheeriness, there was something cold and off putting in his eyes, like he was calculating something. But that moment passed, and the almost annoying cheerful facade came back in full. “As for the smell? That so happens to be The Bog of Eternal Stench!”

“Like eternal eternal?” You really didn’t need to smell like rotten eggs for the rest of your days.

The stranger just chuckled, “Fret not, Beastie, I decided to return the favour, since your feline friend decided not to eat me. But it is indeed ‘eternal eternal’ if you don’t have the means to get rid of it.”

Beastie? “Uh, okay.” not the most eloquent of things to say, but really, could anyone blame you? You just fell through some kind of portal, magic(?) was real, and oh yeah, so were fae/faeries or whatever the hell they called themselves. So ‘Uh, okay’ was perfectly fine in this situation.

Mr. Sparkles — if he was going to call you Beastie, he deserved a dumb nickname — just gave you a smile, exposing the barest hint of his fangs; despite his small frame, he was still dangerous, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. It was as if he was assessing you, to see if you would be worth the trouble to help. You didn’t know if either option would be good by the way his magenta eyes twinkled with mischief.

He let out a huff and started walking away, and you followed. “I wouldn’t recommend following me, Beastie,” he hummed, and you tripped over a rock, vines keeping you to the moss. “The court would not take kindly to you.”

You glared at him and tried ripping the vines off of your feet, but they didn’t budge. “And why should I listen to you?”

Mr. Sparkles booped you on the nose, “Well, it would ensure that you made it out of here alive, which I believe you would find beneficial and all.”

Obnoxious prick. But he did have a point, you would rather make it back home alive rather than fucking around and finding out (aka dying). “So what? Are you going to just leave me here? No welcome brochure? Thanks.”

You were being sarcastic, since it was either sarcasm or having a full-on existential crisis, since hey, magic wasn’t real in your world! Dimension? Galaxy? Where the fuck was this place?! How the hell did you end up here?!

“Hmm good point…” he snapped his fingers and there was now a book sitting in your lap. “This should suffice, do be warned though, Beastie, I may call on you later to return the favour. For now though,” he started to turn into green sparkles, “toodaloo!~” And he turned into a bat, flying off into the sunset, leaving you alone at the edge of the swamp with the only things to your name being the clothes on your back and a book in your lap.

How to Survive the Underground; For Humans! … Did he just give you this world’s equivalent of a For Dummies book? What the fuck? Was this kind of sick joke to him?

…

Once some of your ire had subsided, you decided to sit down on a boulder and read a bit of the book while there was still some sunlight out, but it was dipping into the horizon fast.

How to Survive the Underground; For Humans! By Yelworc Erid Preface …… i - iv Chapter 1; Surviving Your First Night…… 1 - 10 Chapter 2; Edible Food for Humans …… 11 - 31 Chapter 3; The Basics of Fae Etiquette …… 32 - 35 3.1; Species Specifics …… 36 - 146 3.2; Government Specifics …… 147 - 169 Chapter 4; Help! I Have Been Indentured to a Fae! …… 170 - 200 Chapter 5; Adjusting to Fae Social Life …… 201 - 224 Chapter 6; Transmittable Illnesses & Diseases …… 225 - 261 Chapter 7; Fae Courting Practices …… 262 - 264 7.1; Species Specifications …… 265 - 366 7.2; Government Specifications …… 367 - 389 7.3; Accepting a Courting Proposal …… 390 - 393 7.4; Refusing a Courting Proposal …… 394 - 401 Chapter 8; How to Handle Fae Children …… 402 - 452 Chapter 9; How to Leave the Underground … 453 Chapter 10; Adjusting to Life in the Underground …… 454 - 482 Acknowledgments …… 483 - 485

Looking back up to the horizon, you quickly turned the pages to Chapter 1; Surviving Your First Night.

“If you are unable to find yourself some suitable shelter, one should find themselves safe by camping out in a rowan tree. These trees can easily be found by their vermillion clusters of berries. They keep away all native species of the Underground,” you read out loud, turning your attention to the trees nearby, searching for those berries. “Rowan tree, rowan tree–”

A loud screech coming from the undergrowth only pushed you further.

Nope, I do not want to find out what THAT was! Nope! NoPe! NOPE!

Finally, you found a tall enough tree and you hauled your ass up it like there was a fire below you, and you were up in the canopy, far enough up that nothing could reach you, but also high enough where you needed to be careful, since you didn’t want to meet an early death because you made a wrong move. But for now, you were safe.

“Nice try buddy,” you muttered to yourself, trying to get comfy. Wood wasn’t the comfiest thing in the world, but you weren’t really in the position to be complaining. “I am not on the menu.”

The screech came again, this time closer; yeah, you weren’t sleeping tonight. The sun was now beyond the horizon, and there was no moon, the only light coming from the stars above; it was very pretty, but you could see jack shit. This was going to be a long night… and not a fun one, since you could also see the glowing eyes of unknown creatures which were, quite frankly, freaky as fuck. So yeah, no sleep for you.

“This fucking sucks,” you grumbled, and a chittering from the bog seemed to mock you. “This really fucking sucks.”

…

Tags; @busycloudy, @eynnwwyjth, @identity-theft-101, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @lucid-stories, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

~~~~~~~

Author's Note; This chapter is shorter, but it felt natural to end the chapter like this. This chapter, and the previous one, were both rewrites of an old WIP, so from here on out I don't have to rewrite! YIPPEE!!! Rewriting takes me forever, so we shall see what I come up with next.

If you liked this, do check out my masterlist for more content!

#twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x gn reader #still building up that aspect; yeah it's gonna be a while but that allows for some yearning #got another labyrinth mention in there #i decided to be nice to reader where they don't end up smelling like rotten eggs for their entire stay in the underground;#; it would be funny but reader has been through enough without needing to smell bad on top of that #twst labyrinth au #gilf enjoyers rejoice #why does rewriting take me so damn long? i even deleted scenes that i didn't feel like keeping #writing is pain and suffering yet it brings me immense joy... not gonna elaborate on that #not a bunch of fun stuff hidden in the tags this time but oh well

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