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lovifie · 2 months

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Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 5: Home Sweet Home

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

Aprox 5k words

W: Captain Price x Reader x Kyle Garrick (the poly 141 is building).

“I honestly think this is an improvement from your flat.” Ghost comments leaving your bag on a chair. “It is sad, but it's true.”

And he is right. The safehouse you have been assigned to is not ugly, it is just… artificial. Decorated to look lived in, but you know it isn't. Photos of people you don't know on the walls, books you haven't read and blankets you can tell are going to be itchy. But no one can trace you back here.

Ghost drove you here, Price made Soap and Gaz stay with him to have a chat with them. Chat, you are glad to be able to avoid, at least for now.

The safe house is not too far away from the base, but still enough not to be linked to it. It is a nice neighbourhood, better than your last one, it makes you want to go for a walk.

“Try to always stay inside, alright?” Ghost tells you sitting beside you. He caresses your thigh looking at your face. “I know it sucks to be stuck inside, but this whole thing would lose its purpose if anyone sees you leaving or entering the house.”

“So I can’t never leave the house?” You ask looking down. His gloved hand still caressing your thigh, and your hands find their way to it, playing with the fabric of his glove.

“You can, just need to be careful. But never alone, unless it is an emergency. Please, if Price hears you are wandering around alone he'll have a stroke.” He chuckles, stops moving his hand and instead puts the palm up letting you play with his hand. “You should have seen him yesterday when he woke up.”

“Was it that bad?” You ask, guilt flooding your heart at the mental image of Price panicking because of you.

Ghost nods. “He thought that we were pulling a prank on him, that we have you hidden. He made us show him our room, and then he went to look all around the base. Until I showed him the security footage of you leaving he didn't stop looking around.”

“I feel like an asshole.” You admit, unable to look at him and focusing on your hands together with his. Your fingertips find their way inside the glove and you begin to caress the palm of his hand mindlessly.

“It was a pretty asshole move.” Ghost chuckles looking down at your hands. “But I can understand why you would do it, everyone else too. No one blames you for doing it, birdie. You know that, right?”

It is then that you notice the current situation, Ghost is sitting side by side with you. Thigh pressing yours, one of his hands is on your lap with your own hand inside his glove caressing his skin, feeling the warmth. His other arm is resting on the back of your chair, and his hand find its way to your jaw, caressing your cheek with his thumb and moving your head to look at him.

He is wearing a basic black balaclava, no paint around his eyes, and you can see his blonde lashes for how close he is to you. Unconsciously, you look to where you know his lips are and you notice movement under the mask, he is smiling. He sighs and presses his forehead with yours. “C’mon, birdie. I made a promise this morning, don't make me break it so fast.”

“A promise?” You ask curious as you look back to the hands on your lap.

“Yeah, to Price. You are not supposed to know it.” He chuckles. “I shouldn’t tell you.”

And you shouldn't push it, you should be nice. But you are nosy and he hasn't said no jet. So you look up to him, through your lashes and ask softly. “I won't say anything… please?”

He groans closing his eyes and pulls his head back looking ahead of you. “How can I say it?” He pulls the hand from behind your head to rub his face. “Price and I talked last night, about how since we met there has been an… attraction between all of us.”

“Okay.” You agree, feeling a light blush rise on your face.

“And we talked about how we did a poor attempt at having control over it. And how we basically jumped you, and that was wrong of us, like, you were literally handcuffed when you were with Gaz.” He says sighing, feeling embarrassed with himself. “And I definitely shouldn't have done it the way I did.”

“It's okay.” You admit, still unable to look at his face. “I didn't complain… wait.” You say finally looking up at him. “You knew Gaz and I were…”

“Humping each other like teenagers? Yeah, I noticed.” He says chuckling when he sees your shocked expression. “Birdie, I took the car for maintenance the next morning to check the car's suspension because of how many potholes and curbs I hit. And you think I didn't do it or purpose?”

You cover your face with your hands chuckling in embarrassment, Ghost hugs you from the side bringing you close to his chest making you feel the vibrations from his laughs. “Are you getting shy now, birdie?” He asks and you nod, unable to answer. He then gets close to your ear and whispers: “You weren't shy when I had my tongue up your ass.”

You shriek slapping his arms to get away making him laugh with his whole chest and when you manage to get up, he grabs your hips keeping you within arm's reach. “Let me go, I'm going to sleep.” You say trying to keep some kind of pride.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, was just playing.” He says standing up and hugging you again. “Just like how I played with your clit.”

“Shut up!” You exclaim, heating up, whether it is from embarrassment or something else, is not important right now. He laughs again and drops a kiss on the top of your head as a peace offering: “Go to bed, birdie. I'm sure you didn't get much sleep last night.”

You slap his arm one last time before walking down the hall, but he calls you again making you turn: “Take this, is a burner phone, so no one can track you through the phone. Price, Soap, Gaz and my number are already on. If you need to send anyone else a message or something, we will send it through your phone back at base, the antenna back at the base makes it impossible to track.”

You take the phone from his hand and slap your forehead when you see the time. “I need to call my boss!”

“About that, you don't have to worry about it. You are now on a witness protection system, so you actually can't just go. Price is going to talk to him, and he will figure it out. Price will take care of it, don't worry.”

You nod, not completely convinced, and after getting a kiss on your forehead you get inside the room, ready to sleep.

A couple of hours later, the clatter of pans and dishes wakes you up. You look at the time and realise you have slept almost all morning, so you stretch still on the bed, stand up, wash your face in the bathroom and make your way to the kitchen when you are met with Kyle's back.

“Morning.” You say smiling walking up to him. He whips around looking disproportionately scared by the situation and you look at him confused.

“Fuck sake, doll. We gotta get you a bell or something, almost shit myself.” He says with a hand on his chest and you laugh at him.

“That's what you get for being a snitch!” You exclaim putting your hands on your hips.

A perfect smile appears on his face that gets you weak on your knees, and he cups your face still smiling. Dammit, pretty boy. “I just couldn’t help it, luv. You look irresistible when you are flustered.” He says giving you a peck on your cheek. “Are you hungry? I brought you some groceries and bought you lunch.”

You look over his shoulder to check what he bought, and satisfied with his choice you bit the bait of his peace offering. “You are safe for now.”

The safe house is far from a mansion, but still, it is much better than your flat. More than one person can fit into the kitchen, there is a sofa and an armchair in the living room with a TV on a coffee table. Down the hall, there are two rooms and a bathroom with an actual bathtub inside. So yeah, a lot better than the old one.

Kyle and you have lunch on the sofa, and after you both stay seated basking in each other company. You can't help but stare at him and think about the first time you were close to him.

In just the last two days, you have grinded yourself against Kyle's dick, kissed and gotten yourself eaten out and fingered by Price, gotten your ass eaten and pussy fingered by Ghost and kissed and throat fucked by Soap.

Truly an interesting Tuesday.

It's not like you had never done those things before, but still, before them, it has always happened after a relationship was built and not in the order it happened that's for sure.

Fooling around with Kyle was rejuvenating, you are not even old, but still, it felt like fooling around with your first boyfriend. Horny enough to need to feel each other but not ready still to face the vulnerability of getting naked in front of each other.

With Price, he made you feel like a fucking goddess. As if he should be the one thanking you for eating you out. You could hear him moan against your cunt and there was not a centimetre of skin he didn't kiss that night. Such a soft way to make love it almost didn't make sense how nasty he make out with your pussy that night.

Simon was the opposite like a professor teaching a bratty student their place. Any of these men could have you on your knees begging if they put their mind into it, but Simon made you want to act up. Pull his string and step on his nerves. He left you so vulnerable, completely naked and exposed to him, and still, there was not a second where you didn't feel safe.

And Johnny. Oh, sweet, sweet Johnny. You couldn't wait to get your hands on him again. Something about the way he whined your name when you had only barely touched him, the way his pupils almost got a heart shape when you kneel before him.

But that little shit had a big mouth, not that he meant to cause harm, you know that. Unlike Gaz, the second little shit truly was striking for gold this morning. And now, he was sitting on the other side of the sofa, with your feet on his lap looking all innocent and completely unbothered by everything.

So calm.

It bothered you.

Little shit doesn't deserve peace and calm.

Little shit deserves a kick on his balls.

But just when you are about to, you remember his face last night when he saw you enter the mess hall, looking terrified and like a wounded puppy. He looked so worried, and he hugged you so warmly. So the kick doesn't arrive, instead, you plant the heel of your foot right on his crotch forcing a grunt out of him.

“Easy, luv” He says rubbing your ankles.

“You deserve worse.” You say looking at his face as you keep pushing around.

“Rude, why do you say tha-at?” He asks half moaning the last word.

“You were going to rat me out this morning.” You answer beginning to move your foot up and down his growing erection.

He closes his eyes, resting his head on the back of the sofa. “You just look so delicious when you are flustered, doll. Couldn't help myself, would you forgive me?”

“I'm not sure yet, I'm still deciding.” You respond, pressing with a bit more force on his tip earning a moan from his throat.

“Take all the time you need.” He mumbles as he starts to move his hips against your feet.

Confusion floods your brain for a second, Ghost couldn't even kiss you this morning because he had given his word to Price but Gaz was happily humping your feet for his satisfaction.

Did Price don't make him promise? No, that doesn't sound logical. Kyle was the one who started everything, Price must have made him promise more than everyone else. Kyle simply doesn't care about it.

Price won't like that.

If only Price got to know Gaz had broken his promise.

There it is, your kick on his balls.

Figuratively.

For now.

You sit up, removing your feet momentarily earning a whine from Gaz at the loss. He looks at you with a pout on his face, cheeky bastard. It only lasts until he sees you undo his belt, and then a boyish smile appears on his face.

He reclines with a smug smirk on his face and looks up to you as you get his growing boner free. You lick a thick strip of spit into your hand and start to stroke his dick slowly. You look at his face and he looks back delighted.

“If you treat me like this every time I bother you, I'm not stopping ever, luv” He says between whispered moans.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” You ask chuckling.

“When my mouth is busy.” He admits, licking his bottom lip and leaving his mouth half open so moans can slip easily.

“It's that so?” You ask, and with your free hand you raise your t-shirt exposing your tits with a little bounce that Gaz doesn't miss by the way his dick twitch in your hand.

“Fuckin’ hell, luv.” He says beginning to move his head, but you pull his hair back and pressed your tit against his head which he gladly begins to suck onto making you groan softly.

“Much better.” You sigh closing your eyes enjoying the feeling of his warm mouth against your nipple, you move your hand from his head down to his jaw caressing it and feeling the muscles of his jaw flex as he makes out with your boob.

Slowly and shamelessly, Gaz's hand find its way down your back. He doesn't bother to play coy, and as soon as the hand reach your waist, it goes under your pants and your underwear grabbing a handful of your ass cheek making you whine.

You press your thumb and index in his cheek, pressing between his teeth forcing him to open his mouth and say: “Play nice or I won't play with you, Garrick.”

He smiles at you as much as he can with his cheeks pushes and sticks his tongues out to lick your nipple. “Yes, ma'am.”

You could still kick him, literally. It would be faster and it'll probably erase the stupid smug smile from his face. But patience is a virtue.

So you shove his face against your boob again, and sigh when you feel his fingers travel down your lips. He moans when he feels your wetness just for your disgrace, the last thing you needed was to grow his ego. He slips them between your lips, gathering up the wet arousal pooling on your panties. He moves then to the front and begins to rub your clit with his fingertips.

There is precum leaking from his tip, and you bring your fingers up to press your thumb against his slip and circle it, smearing his precum around it, making him moan.

“Let's go to the bed, Kyle.” You half mumbles half moans.

“Let me just do it here, doll. Inaugurate the living room” He mumbles against your skin. You slap him on the back of his head and stand up.

“I'm planning on having most of my meals on this sofa, so get up.” You argue pulling his hand.

“If you are still hungry, I have something you could eat.” He jokes as he stands up, making you look at him with a grimace look on your face making him laugh.

“Don't ever say anything like that, Kyle. For god sake.” You say shaking your head as you walk your way to the room. You open the door and quickly take the rest of your clothes. You look back at Gaz who is looking at you a bit stunned and you chuckle. “I think it would make it a lot easier if you took off your clothes.”

He pulls his t-shirt from the back of his head throwing it somewhere, and gets rid of his clothes as he walks up to you. When he was almost bent over himself on the sofa, whining around your boob, it was easy to get confident and boss him around. Now, with both standing up and as he gets closer to you, you need to look up because of the size difference. He notices it too, how you start to speak softer and your expression is kinder.

He chuckles to himself, positioning his hands under your arm and effortlessly throws you back on the bed, crawling over you instantly. You try to sit up, leaning on your elbows but a firm hand on your chest gets you flat on the bed soon.

You look up to him and see him cock his head like a dog. “What?” You ask and it makes him smile with that fucking toothpaste ad smile. “There it is, I thought you lost your voice. You went silent so suddenly.” He teases.

“Oh, shut up, Kyle.” You say chuckling and pinch his nipple making him chuckle as well. For a second you stay chuckling, looking at each other and enjoying the opposite company. Until suddenly it feels a bit too intimate, and almost at the same time, you make eye contact feeling shy regardless of the lack of clothing.

So you cup his face with both hands and pull him close kissing him on the lips. If he can’t see the affection in your eyes, he can't accuse you of anything.

He caresses your hip, drawing circles with his thumb as he slowly reaches your mount and you slightly spread your legs involuntarily.

“Eager little thing.” He mumbles against your lips smiling, and you bite back: “I can feel you leaking onto my thighs, Kyle. Don't get cocky.”

He chuckles under his breath and without more preamble one of his finger finds his way inside your cunt as he uses the palm to rub your clit making you moan. Wet kisses travel down your throat when you move your hands to the back of his face, his finger’s movement becoming faster and not for long before a second one finds his way inside as well. You lower one of your hands to rub his erection against your tights, feeling the wet spot at his tip growing.

Fuck does it feel good to be desired.

Little moans of your name leave Kyle's mouth against your neck giving you goosebumps and causing you to squirm in his hand needy of more.

“Kyle… please” You moan throwing your head back.

“Not yet, doll. I wanna see you come as prettily as you did on the car again before I get my dick inside this little tight cunt.” He groans against your cheek.

You moan at his crude words arching your back, twisting your face to kiss him. Teeth clashing in the process, but too desperate to care. The band on your stomach snaps almost surprising you, and for a second you can hear your ears ring. Kyle’s hand is still rubbing your clit, but almost like a feather now helping you ride out your orgasm.

You make eye contact with him, checking on you to see if you are alright and when he is satisfied he sits up, pulling you closer circling your legs around his slim waist and palms his erection; rubbing your clit with his tip. “Are you all right, luv? Need another second?”

“Fuck me already, Garrick” You tease propping yourself up on your elbows.

Kyle smirks at you and slowly enters his dick stretching you out; he leans down closer to your face and you both moan on each other mouth as he enters. Slowly enters, and then draws back, just to enter a bit more. Little by little, as he kisses your mouth passionately. Your hands on his back slightly scratch his skin making him groan softly between moans, his tongue enters your mouth caressing your own.

This all started as a way to get Gaz in trouble, but honestly, you are starting to hope it doesn't work. Just so you have to try again.

“Fuck, doll. Such a sweet lovely cunt” He mumbles, already losing his mind, punctuating each word with a roll of his hips. “Sucking me in so fucking nice.”

It shouldn't turn your own as much, such crude words, but you are not really thinking clearly and every word that leaves Gaz’s mouth is like a compliment to your core that makes you clench against his dick.

“Do you like that, doll?” He asks against your neck dropping little open mouth kisses. “Hm? When I tell you how fucking godly you feel, luv?”

“Yes, fuck, yes” You moan back, curling your legs and pushing him closer, wanting him to go deeper as if you were not feeling him up to your cervix already.

His hand found its way down to your clit, circling it with his fingertip, making you meowl at the sudden extra stimulation. You can feel your orgasm approach, and you open your eyes to look at Kyles's face.

But when you open your eyes, the first thing you see is Price leaning against the doorframe; cigar in hand, a disapproving look on his face and a formidable hard erection on his pants. You lock eyes with him, a shameless smile creeping in and making Price shake his head with a similar smile on his face.

The focus quickly moves back to Gaz when he starts to thrust more shallowly, rubbing your clit quickly. “Cum for me, please. I wanna feel you come around me, please, please, doll, please.” He moans against your skin, and completely ignoring Price's presence, you come undone in harmony with Gaz.

Little black dots blur your vision for a second because of the surprising pleasure, almost missing the way Gaz moans your name we come undone following you. You are not sure if you are seeing or imagining when you see Price walk out of the room, and when you try to raise your head to see you come face to face with Gaz. “You okay, luv?” He asks with heavy breathing looking at your face and smiling.

You nod at him smiling, simmering in the afterglow of your orgasms. Only breaks away when something drops next to your head on the bed.

Gaz and you turn to look at Price who is now standing behind Gaz. “Shit.” Gaz mumbles trying to peel away from you, only for Price to press a hand on his back pushing him back against you making you both groan since Gaz is still inside you.

“No, no, please, don't stop on my behalf. I wouldn’t like to bother you.” He says dryly, no vestige of humour in his voice.

Gaz looks at you, making eye contact for a second until both of you turn to look at whatever it was that fell next to you, and when you see the lube bottle it finally sinks in what the two of you have just done.

Both of you quickly try to look at him, kind of guilting the other to not get the short side of the stick. “Settle down you pair of brats.” Price says, he sits on the back of Gaz’s thighs, pressing him deeper making both of you softly moan again. He uncaps the bottle, pouring a fat blob of it in his fingers and pulling Gaz’s hair back making him arch his back once he throws the bottle back. “Unlike this brat, I’m not gonna fuck you, birdie. But the two of you put on such a show that has me in need of some… release.” He says while he caresses Gaz’s hole with his fingertips, getting through the muscle ring as he enunciates the last word.

“Shit, Captain…” Gaz moans, feeling your cunt clench when you feel his dick twitch back to life for a second time. “Don’t “Captain” me now, Kyle. What about your truce? Did any of my words get to your head or was all your blood down on your dick when I was talking to you?”

Gaz is not the only one getting the reprimand, a new cocktail of feelings is developing inside you. There are some hints of shame, the shame of getting caught mid-orgasm, the shame of Price barely acknowledging you at all, and the shame of feeling like you are intruding on whatever arrangement they had before you came into the picture. Again, the little self-aware thoughts that permanently reside in your mind appear, making you aware of the situation.

A loud moan from Gaz brings you out of it before they can materialise, and you come face to face to the fuck out face of Price after bottoming inside of Gaz. Having sex with Gaz was gentle, with more roll of hips and deep thrusts; but Price? He is obviously annoyed with the both of you, and his hard and fast thrusts are proof of it.

You can feel Gaz’s dick hardening inside you stretching you again. And even though he isn’t physically pulling in and out, Price's thrust forces his hips to roll against you giving you a delicious constant stimulus both inside and against your clit. That, joint with the fact that Gaz is moaning in such a filthy way against the skin of your neck quickly has you moaning in tandem with him. Bitting your lips to quiet them, feeling like they are not wanted, like you are just collateral damage to Price and Gaz's little get-together.

You force your eyes close when you feel Price look at you, he furrows his eyebrows when he notices you looking uncomfortable. Are you not enjoying it? Why do you turn away from him?

He switches his rhythm, caressing Gaz’s hips with a hand and bending down to cup your face with the other. He grazes your bottom lips freeing from your bite and drops his thumb inside your mouth making you lick it. He drops down to your ear to whisper: “Don't run from me, sweetheart. Not again, please.”

He raises his hand on Gaz's hips to hug him on his chest, pulling him close to him, and biting him on his shoulder. With what little space that earns Gaz, he begins to move between you and Price, earning a moan from everyone in the room.

It is such a filthy scene, so porn-worth, still, there is such a palpable sense of care from everyone involved. Fuck, the moment they get bored of you it's going to hurt like a bitch.

“I can't!” Gaz moans, the overstimulation getting the best of him. Poor boy getting his prostate destroyed and his dick milked at the same time. You can't barely manage yourself, you pity him. But again, that's what he gets for snitching.

“Yes, you can. And you will.” Price moans against his neck, and at the same time he drags his hand down your body just to rub your clit causing a chain reaction when you clench for the reaction, causing Gaz to groan and clench as well.

Is not much longer until you feel Gaz finish inside you for a second time, drooling against your shoulder skin while he hugs you needy of something to ground him. You quickly hug him back when you feel yourself spilling over the edge, and just a couple of seconds later Price finishes as well inside of Gaz.

He drops himself over the two of you earning a groan from you for being squished by both men, but you only get a chuckle in return from the both of them. “At least like this, we know you aren’t going to go running again.” Gaz murmurs against your skin only for you to hear, warming your heart.

“The two of you are gonna give me a headache, I just know.” Price mumbles kissing his bite mark on Gaz’s shoulder while making eye contact with you. “Get washed, dressed and come down to the living room. We have a little meeting the five of us.”

When he goes to sit up, you quickly grab his shirt pulling him close and ask softly. “Can we stay like this for a little more, please?” The neediness and clinginess being too hard to ignore.

Kyle and Price look at you as if you are the most precious thing on the whole planet and quickly nod going back to the weird body pile you were on. “Yeah, of course we can.”

Heyaa, how are you? 💗

Hope you liked the new chapter, please please drop a comment if you like it or if there is any scenarios you would like me to include 💗

Thank you again for all the support, you guys are the best

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i-cant-sing · 4 months

Note

I can’t get this scenario out of my head with yan!batfamily in which Bruce worms his way into a depressed reader’s life by marrying their mother and slowly taking over the role of parenting reader while dealing with the depression.

No because Bruce would do that. In his head, its just another mission to "save Y/n" and sure, your mother isn't exactly his type, and your depression isn't exactly her fault- the poor woman just works day and night for you both to survive in this outrageous economy, she doesn't have had enough time to see you not doing so well mentally.

Bruce and his sons, by whatever sequence of events, are now infatuated with you. What started as concern for your well being has now turned into obsessive need to control your life to make it better. So, yeah... Bruce decides to marry your mom, who is more than happy to finally find a chivalrous, handsome man... who just happens to also be very rich.

Meanwhile, you hate him. It's stupid, but you hate how filthy rich he is and even though you know that he donates a lot to charities, you still hate him because Bruce thinks money can solve everything (and in your case, it almost can), but you can't help but feel insulted everytime he offers you a cheque, a wad of cash to pay off your bills and loans, or even a $20 bill to get yourself some snacks. It feels... abnormal. You're not a charity case.

Perhaps your socioeconomic status isn't the only reason you're depressed. Maybe it's just you missing your father (could be dead/murdered/suicide/just moved far far away).

The moment Bruce finds out that your dad is the reason why you're so depressed, oh it's "I WILL FATHER ANOTHER CHILD IN NEED OF PROFESSIONAL HELP" time. He's doubling down on his paternal instincts and he's just mentally smacking himself like "ofc you need a father figure in your life. Who better than me????"

And it just makes your skin crawl at how nonchalant Bruce is about all this- about incorporating himself into your and your mother's life. Treating you both, especially you like you're actually related. Like he's been around with you two his entire life. You lose your appetite when he stays for dinner, but you sit at the table for your mother. You try to make excuses when your mother tells you that you have to go with her at the Wayne Manor because "Bruce wants to spend a day with family". You can't help but look at your mother in wonder at how she is comfortable when you both pull up at the manor. You thought things would be easier if Bruce's sons were also uncomfortable or even hated you and your mother (or thought that your mom was a gold digger), but no, they're just as worse as Bruce. Dick being particularly the worst in the sense that he's more affectionate and his love language is physical touch, so you get squished to his chest everytime he sees you, with a small cry "my baby!" Sometimes, "sis" would be added.

You didn't like either nickname.

Then there's Jason, who is the most normal one of them all, perhaps because he isn't around much and when he is, he just makes small talk.

Tim doesn't talk much either, but he stares a lot. Somehow you feel like he knows something about you, at least more than he's letting on.

And lastly, there's Damian, that pompous little shit. You know he's being amicable for Bruce, but his eyes look at you like he's judging you- thinks you're beneath him. Which is true, in the sense of finance. Despite all of that, Damian still wants to show you off his interests/things around the manor. He's still being arrogant ofc, "Look at this oil painting- it's a Van Gogh original. Van Gogh is a famous painter- he's dead though. I'm sure you aren't familiar with his works. I can take you to the Gotham gallery to show you more paintings. Father owns it, so it can be just us two without other people bothering us." He's nice but also not nice. But at least he's not doing it intentionally.

Then there's Bruce. Who is always looking at you with a small smile, but his eyes are always analysing you, even when he's not looking at you directly, you know that he's watching your every move like a hawk. He tries spending time with you, often he succeeds, only because your mother makes you go. He's a good man, hasn't done anything exactly inappropriate, but... even something as small as making you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk so that you're safe from the cars... it doesn't sit right with you. Why is he being so paternal? You certainly have been rude to him on purpose. Always giving him one word answers when he asks you how your day was.

Then one day your mother returns home with a beaming smile.

"Bruce proposed to me! We're getting married!"

After only 3 months of dating? It's what you wanted to say, but you held it back when you saw how happy she was.

The next day, Bruce held a dinner at the manor to celebrate the engagement. Surprisingly, that was the first time you saw Damian looking mad at you and your mom.

It was a reasonable reaction. Acceptable to you, instead of the overly excited yell of Dick "WE'RE GOING TO BE SIBLINGS! That means we can have slumber parties and pillow fights and-"

Your mother and Bruce were shopping for the wedding, looking at dresses and venues and all the shenanigans while you were at the manor, moving your and your mom's stuff in with the boys. It was the last thing you wanted, but your mother.... she insisted on it. Or at least that's what she says, you know Bruce insisted.

Doesn't matter because by next year, you'd be moving away to college anyways.

You just need to put up with this for a little longer and see your mother finally be happy.

You didn't expect your mother to be dead a week before the wedding.

It was out of the blue. You were sitting in the library at the manor because Dick refused to let you be alone in your room all the time, so he was making you some cookies while you read. Then he and Bruce came together, their faces pale as they looked at you.

"Y/n... your mother, she... she got in an accident."

She was driving to some restaurant, wanted to get you your favourite fried chicken and spend some time with you alone. But on her way, a truck crashed right into her car.

She died on the spot.

Whatever little improvement you had on your mental health went straight down the drain. You locked yourself in your room and just cried quietly. They left you alone the first few days, but then Bruce and Dick tried to persuade you to come out, that they were concerned for you. You did come out the day the funeral was held. And it hurt you... it hurt you so deeply when you found out they were burying her at the Wayne cemetery.

She wasn't a fucking Wayne.

If you had any strength, if you had any energy at all, you would've taken your mother and buried her someplace else.

But you didn't.

When you returned inside the manor, you went straight to your mother's room, which was also Bruce's room but you didn't care if he saw you in there or not. You just started packing all of your mother's stuff, her clothes, her jewellery, her photos, everything she came here with, which wasn't much to begin with but still.

"Y/n?" You stiffened when Bruce called you, but you didn't pause on packing. "What are you doing? Looking for something?"

You sighed. Might as well get this over with.

You turnd around, not looking him in the eye.

"I'm moving out. And I'm taking mom's stuff with me. You can check, I'm not stealing anything that belongs to you."

Bruce looked at you in confusion. "Moving out? Where are you going?"

"College. I'll be going there soon anyways, so I'm moving to an apartment with some friends."

"Oh, but you don't need to move out. You can stay with us. Youre family-" you cut him off.

"Bruce, let's not." You finally look at him. "We're not family. I never was, I never wanted to be. Mom's gone now, and I have no reason or desire to be here. Thank you for letting me stay here for as long as you have, but I will be moving out by tomorrow, if not tonight." You said picking up your mother's bag of stuff and walking out of the room. Bruce followed you to your room.

"But I don't want you to move-"

You dropped the bags. "I don't care what you want!"

Bruce looked at you with his brows furrowed. He didn't get why you were acting like this. Your yelling had gotten the attention of the boys too, all looking in confusion at the bags.

"I don't want to be a part of this family. I never have, and I never will. I never liked you or anyone in this family. And if you're concerned about me speaking to the media about you guys, don't worry. If it helps you, you can make me sign an NDA!"

Damian narrowed his eyes at you. "Dont talk to father like-"

"Shut up!" You yelled harshly. You didn't care who you were hurting. Your mother was gone, you had no reason to be amicable to them anymore.

They left you alone that day, and by the next morning, you were ready to leave. At 6 am, you walked down to the main door, with your bags. You weren't expecting them all to be waiting for you, but here they were. You took a step towards the door, but Dick stopped you.

He cleared his throat. "Um, this is the NDA... if you'd just sign it here." He handed you the papers.

Unbelievable. They actually drew up a contract. You took the pen from his hand and signed at the dotted lines.

"Bye." You took another step, except Damian and Tim blocked your path.

"What now?"

"Where are you going?" Tim asked.

"Do we have to go over this again?" You grumbled. "College." You answered.

"You can't." Damian said smugly. What's he smirking for?

"You're gonna break my legs?" You scoffed.

"No, you just signed a document saying that you're a part of this family, and Bruce Wayne is your guardian and has authority over all decisions concerning you like going to college, or even... going out of the house." Damian replied.

You looked at Bruce, because there's no way Damian is being serious. But there were no signs of joking. You looked at Dick, at Jason-

They were all dead serious.

"You cant- you can't be- you can't keep me here." You said.

"You signed the documents. It's your fault for not reading them." Tim said.

"Bruce-"

"I really do believe that it'd be better for you to stay here." Bruce said, taking ahold of your shoulders. "At least until you're doing better mentally."

"I'm fine-"

"I don't think so. And I could even take you to a psychiatrist, they'd agree with me." Bruce cupped your cheek as you flinched away. "You'd be happy here. I promise you that, you'll be safe and happy with us."

You'd try fighting, but you already knew you were outnumbered.

Besides, even if you weren't, even if you were alone with the smallest one of them, you still wouldn't be able to leave. You have no idea what Damian is capable of.

After all, he's the one who had your mother killed.

#yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere batboys #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere tim drake #yandere jason todd

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equxvedits · 5 months

Text

You Would Choose Me, Correct?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Synopsis: When Jogo succeeds in resurrecting Sukuna, you are unfortunate enough to come across him. Dragging you into his domain, Sukuna fucks you into submission.

・❥・requests

WARNINGS: MDNI, 18+, Fem Reader, Smut, Non-Con/Dubious Consent, Slight Manipulation, Fingering, Sukuna Steps On The Reader, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Masturbation, Shoe-Licking, Doesn't Pull Out, Sukuna Has A Superiority Complex, Sukuna In His True Form, Mean Sukuna, Extremely Submissive Reader, Age Gap (reader is 18, sukuna is...old 💀)

・❥・wc: 4.0k words

・❥・masterlist

With two fingers pressed against your temple, you were gradually trying to form a connection with Yuji as you ran around the empty Shibuya station.

You had been trying to connect your eyesight with Yuji's for the past 10 minutes but every attempt had been futile.

Your cursed technique allowed you to connect your mind with anyone you marked with your cursed energy.

It had been a never-before-seen prowess that you could only have succeeded in controlling because of your teacher, Gojo Satoru.

Currently, you were the only third year from Tokyo Jujutsu High, your two classmates being unavailable due to their suspension.

Since you were everyone's senior you had been given the responsibility of looking after Yuji during Gojo's absence.

Which you were failing miserably.

Not only had you lost sight of Yuji after being separated, but you also had been able to connect and look through his eyes, only to witness him fighting an enemy.

It was hard to pinpoint his location through the glimpses since the chaos was too distracting, but you still ran around the station to find him.

It wasn't until a few minutes ago that when you tried to connect your eyesight, you found nothing but darkness.

It could only be two things. He was unconscious, or he was dead. You could only pray to god that it wasn't the latter.

As you ran through another corridor you noticed two girls at the end of the hallway with some sort of fog or steam around them.

The sight concerned you, seeing these two young girls in the middle of the battlefield.

"Hey, girls! Are you alright? Anyone injured?" Your jogging comes to a halt once you reach them.

One of the girls gets defensive, holding up her phone to you as she holds the other girl close.

"I'm not here to hurt you! You need to leave, it's getting dangerous here!" You raise your hands in surrender trying to give a reassuring smile, confused as to why she held up her phone.

The brunette girl looks back at you for a moment before her gaze shifts to something behind them. Only then had you noticed and realized the situation.

"Yuji-kun!" You shout in concern, dashing to attack the curse in front of him.

"Don't waste my time..." The blue curse demands but you freeze in your step as you notice his hand had been sliced clean off.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, skin perspiring at the sudden intensity of something dark.

"I'll give you one second. Move."

Your breathing gets quicker as a suffocating feeling overwhelms your being. The curse and the two girls dash back a few feet, further away from Yuji's body.

Yuji starts to stand up and walk towards the four of you. The other three stood a few feet behind you, and as much as you would like to get further away from the approaching male, your feet stayed planted.

This presence. It was no longer Yuji.

Sukuna.

You had witnessed Sukuna take over Yuji's body in the past before but it had been very obvious to you that something had changed.

He was intimidating back then but right now, he was terrifying.

It had been easier to stand your ground against him in the past, but it just seemed impossible this time.

Maybe you had grown too used to Gojo's protective presence that now that he wasn't here, the King of curses appeared even more menacing.

With every single step Sukuna took, it became obvious that Yuji now bore at least 3 times the fingers he originally had before coming here.

Your heart was beating at an abnormal rate. Your body started trembling the closer Sukuna got until you felt your legs buckle under the pressure.

You fell to your knees, head hanging low to avoid all eye contact with the curse. Your body instinctively closes in on itself to make yourself appear smaller.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, hoping that somehow Sukuna would ignore your presence.

But sadly that wasn't the case.

He stopped right beside you, feet next to your thighs as he started to speak.

"Holding your head a little too high, don't you think?"

If his voice hadn't terrified you then the sounds of blood splattering certainly did. Since you had your back to the other three you didn't know who had been hurt, and honestly a part of you was too petrified to turn around.

"You should learn from this brat." You felt a hand being placed on the top of your head.

You knew who it was and had to desperately stop yourself from flinching away, too scared to accidentally offend him.

But as the hand smoothed over your head once, a small terrified whimper left your mouth. Your eyes were screwed shut to stop the tears pricking your eyes.

"You thought kneeling on just one knee would be enough?" He asks rhetorically as he continues to smooth his hand over your head.

"The boughs that bear the most hang lowest. But it seems your head doesn't bear much."

As he said that the hand resting atop your head abruptly shifts to the back of your neck. In less than a second you're standing upright staring right into Sukuna's eyes.

"You'll be useful later."

An impact on your jaw was all you felt before your vision faded to black.

"Master Sukuna..."

You slowly started to stir awake, hearing a few voices speaking in the background. Your entire body felt hot as if you were dipped in lava.

You only regain consciousness when you hear one of the voices raise their tone.

"Uraume?!"

You jolt awake at his voice, lifting your upper body to sit up. You look around to see Yuji standing a bit away from you with a monk-like person kneeling in front of him.

It took a moment before you remembered what had happened.

Sukuna! He knocked you unconscious.

You try to speak but feel your mouth hurt. You bring your hand up to stroke your jaw, realizing how it felt sore. You knew it was probably because Sukuna had punched you.

Only then had you noticed very small but numerous burns on your hand. You look around and find yourself scared and dumbfounded.

You were sitting on the apex of destruction. The destruction that was no doubt caused by Sukuna.

"Master Sukuna?" You hear the monk address the King.

Noticing you to be awake, Sukuna spares you a glance before speaking.

"I have urgent business to deal with."

"...I see." The white and red-haired monk discreetly glances at you. You flinch when you make eye contact with the person named 'Uraume' but they only close their eyes, bowing lower to Sukuna.

"It won't be much longer until I'm completely free. Don't neglect your preparations." Sukuna walks towards you as he speaks.

You try to move away from him but can't, your body is still weak from Sukuna's hit. He stood tall above you, a menacing smirk on his face.

"See you later, Urame...

...Domain Expansion: Malevelont Shrine."

Your surroundings change suddenly feeling cold. You see Sukuna standing exactly where he was, just now he adorned a light kimono with black accents and a dark scarf wrapped around his neck.

You look down to see yourself now sitting in what seemed like a shallow river of blood. Was it blood?

Just when you try to stand up, you halt your actions when Sukuna appears in front of you.

"Who permitted you to move?" He asks glaring down at you.

"I-...s-sorry." You let your head hang low.

"Don't speak. Your lips should be sealed until ordered otherwise." He demands as you nod wordlessly.

Internally you were screaming at yourself. Scolding how you shouldn't be submitting yourself to something you spent your life training to eradicate.

You tell yourself that if you die then it's because of your duty as a Jujutsu Sorcerer. No one will hold it against you if you lose against Sukuna.

You shout at yourself to fight back, that anything is better than bowing to a curse. But alas your body refused to listen to your brain.

It only listened to Sukuna now.

"Spread your legs."

His tone was firm, making it obvious he expected complete obedience from you. And that is what he got.

Your legs move further away from each other a good distance till your uniform skirt allows you.

Sukuna clicks his tongue in annoyance.

"Lift your skirt, fucking dimwit." Your lips wobble at his harsh words but do not resist. Your hands work slowly to lift your skirt up so it is now inverted and covering your torso.

You slowly spread your legs further away, although there wasn't much to see due to you wearing leggings underneath.

As you slowly build up the courage to protest it is immediately shut down when Sukuna presses the sole of his shoes on your covered cunt.

You almost gasp out in shock but compose yourself, not ready to submit yourself yet.

"You really surprised me. You were so prepared to exorcise me when I first resurrected. Look at you now, so submissive. I did tell the Gojo Sorcerer that you'll be the first I'll take."

He taunts you all the while continuing to put pressure on your folds. Watching you have no reactions he huffs in annoyance before finally removing his feet.

"This is boring. Stand up. Undress yourself completely and go sit over there." He says pointing towards the throne on the shrine.

You slowly stand up whilst fixing your skirt, finally having built up some courage to fight against him.

"I'm not doing anything, King of Curses. Sukuna!" You exclaim as anger builds in your chest. But all is lost in the blink of an eye.

Before you could have moved, Sukuna was behind you. His hand was on your chest before your uniform shirt had been ripped off of your body.

You shriek out of fear, hands moving to cover your chest. Sukuna uses his feet to kick your legs from underneath you.

Losing your balance you fall onto your hands and knees as he crouches down beside you. He once again lifts your skirt as the other brings down your leggings.

Taking your hands he holds them behind your back, keeping them in place. Due to this your face was on the floor, back arched, and ass up.

His other hand starts to rub your cunt through your underwear, before sighing in disappointment.

"I need you wet." As he says that his fingers move around your bare chest to toy with your nipples. They would pinch and tug at your flesh making you whimper slightly.

That paired with the constant rubbing of your clit and the pressure of your hands being held tightly. You found it harder to resist it.

Due to the situation, it had taken you a moment to realize something. How was he doing that?

One of his hands was toying with your now bare clit, the other playing with your chest. But your hands were still being held in place.

You slightly move your head to look at Sukuna and find yourself staring at someone completely different.

It was no longer Yuji, but rather someone who looked exactly how Sukuna's real form was described.

Two faces with four arms.

In fact, his only vacant hand was near his mouth, covering two of his fingers in saliva as he later plunges the same fingers into your cunt.

This time you couldn't hold your moans back. Not only did his appearance change, his true form was larger as well.

There might have been a feet or two difference in height but he was now prominently wider, making you feel even smaller.

His fingers brushed along your walls as you convulsed around him.

"P-please stop...stop!"

You sob as you grow closer to your release. A second goes by when you suddenly felt empty, cunt pulsating around nothing as your head felt an immense force against it.

You soon realize that he held your head in his hand, bringing you closer to his body. Your face was soon in front of his.

"Don't order me, you pathetic woman. Now go do as I asked." He says with a chilling tone. You nod hastily.

He releases his hold on your face and you stand up and look around for a moment. Then you remembered he had told you to sit on the throne-like structure.

You had only moved a few small steps before being stopped once again.

"Stop. Take off everything you have on first." Sukuna demanded. You look back at him before looking down. Your leggings and underwear still clung onto your thighs and your skirt covered your torso.

You smoothly slip everything off before starting to walk once more, Sukuna right behind you.

It takes you less than a minute to climb up the stairs before reaching the throne. You turn around to settle yourself on the seat but are stopped by a sudden pressure around your neck.

"Who said you could sit there?" Sukuna tightens his grip on your neck and you struggle against him.

"Y-you said—"

"I told you to take a seat over here. It's obvious I meant the floor, do you think so highly of yourself to take a seat on my throne?"

His tone scared you so desperately denied.

"No! I'm sorry! I-I'm s-sorry! I mis-misunderstood! P-please forg-forgive me!" It was difficult for you to speak, barely getting any airflow along with the fear that clouded your veins. You couldn't do anything but plead for your life.

At your words he releases his hold on you, resulting in you landing on the floor breathing heavily.

While you composed yourself, Sukuna settled himself on his throne.

"Come here. Look at me." The King demands making you turn your head to him. You saw him pat his thigh once expecting you to understand.

You didn't, but took your guess. Moving closer to him while also not leaving the floor, you hesitantly rested your head against his thigh.

He smirks down at you as his hand moves to pat your head.

"You finally understand your place, woman." He grins mischievously.

"During our time here, I'll ask you what want at any time once I'm satisfied, and I'll give it to you. All you need to do is obey me. Understood?"

You nod mindlessly.

"Good. Now, make yourself cum." He says in the most natural tone. You were caught off guard by this, not understanding.

"I don't-" Before you question further, one of Sukuna's arms had moved making you flinch and close your eyes out of instinct.

You only open them when you hear Sukuna laugh. You watch him use his fingers to open his kimono, revealing himself to be completely bare underneath.

Although you tried to fight it, you did catch a glimpse of his girth that laid against his lap.

"Make yourself cum. Use anything here. Your fingers, the floor, my shoes, my cock, heck you can use one of those bones lying there as well. Just fuck yourself, and make it pretty."

You understood what he had asked of you, but your body didn't move. He only stared at you waiting.

"You have 10 seconds to start, otherwise the deal is off." He states, pressuring you.

You realized that this was the only way for you to see another day. So you decided to put aside your pride and dignity and comply.

"May I lick your shoes, Master Sukuna?"

Throughout the entire night, this was the first time Sukuna heard no jitters in your voice, so he only grew amused by your bold yet pathetic words.

"Do what you want."

With the confirmation, you move away slightly so you can bend lower. You shift your body to get on all fours, going lower till your face reaches Sukuna's shoes.

Slowly you began to lick against the material, soaking it in your saliva.

This was humiliating. But even as tears sprung to your eyes this was undoubtedly the best strategy. For someone as egoistical as Sukuna it would be hard to satisfy him with someone else's pleasure.

So you had to make sure he felt like a true king. Knowing that something like a mere shoe of his could get you off would definitely win him over.

You just had to endure.

Once the tip of his shoe was soaked, you moved away to sit up and lean back. Inserting two fingers in your mouth you drenched them in your saliva before spreading your legs.

Now that you were on complete display, your fingers moved to your already dripping cunt to massage through your folds.

You did that for a few seconds before moving closer to Sukuna's shoe, eventually pressing your slit against it.

You had initially planned to try and insert his shoe in you -even just barely- but decided against it when you felt the true size of it. So you resorted to just rubbing yourself against the material.

You moved forward to hug his leg, moving your hips to rub across the length of his shoe. You slowly opened your eyes to look at Sukuna, wanting to see if your display was affecting him at all.

And to your surprise, it was. His cock which was previously resting against his lap was now hard against his stomach.

But what caught you off guard wasn't the size of his girth, rather it was his stare. His red, venomous eyes bore into yours, the sight itself making you stumble over a few strokes.

Your cheeks flushed hot as you started to feel genuinely aroused by the situation. The roughness of his shoe becomes more apparent as you continue to rub yourself against the most pleasurable spot.

"Mmmh! So close..."

Your mumbles come out soft as your brain slowly grows incoherent.

Sukuna grinned cooly at the sight, amused that his original plan was working out as he had thought.

You weren't the best asset among all the other sorcerers he came across, but your cursed technique was valuable.

Although he knew he wasn't really in need of your technique either, he was just curious about your ancestry.

And if possible, he could use your body as a vessel for a stronger curse who could put use to your technique.

He just had to bring you to his side.

Sukuna abruptly rips away his feet, leaving you with nothing to rub against. You suppress a whine that builds at the back of your throat and just look up at him in confusion.

"You were good, but it's not enough. Come here, I want to taste you." He hooks his hand underneath your arm to lift you and make you straddle him.

He uses your shock as leverage to push the tip of his cock into your entrance. You jolt but don't complain, thighs still shaking from your ruined orgasm.

He slowly pushes against your hips to bring you down on the rest of his length.

Your moan comes out strangled, vocal chords confused on whether to scream or moan.

Trying to ignore the stinging from the stretch, you slowly start to move as Sukuna's hands guide your movement a few times.

You feel yourself stretch around him a few times before he lifts you a little too high, making him slip out of you.

"Master Sukuna...?"

"Don't move."

Two of his hands started to fiddle with your breast when you feel a wet muscle against your cunt.

You look down to see a tongue sticking out of Sukuna's stomach that makes you want to screech. But your voice immediately dies when the same tongue slips into your walls.

Your lips part at the feeling, pussy clenching around his tongue out of reflex. Sukuna pulls you closer, moving you a bit up so your cunt was pressed flat against his stomach.

Losing balance you fall ahead slightly, hands on each side of his head against the throne as your head lulled forward, chin touching his hair.

You suddenly felt a stinging on your ass, realizing Sukuna was digging his pricking his nails into your skin.

You felt a wave of fear rush to your head, wondering if he had gotten mad by you directly touching his throne.

You had only done that so you were not holding him instead. You almost shifted to move your arms but halted when you felt wet around your breasts.

Sukuna has encased a small portion of your right breast in his mouth -the one in its rightful place- tongue circling your nipple, canine digging into them slightly.

Without even realizing your hips were grinding against his stomach, the tongue inside your walls speeding up its ministrations.

Just when you felt your release snap, your ecstasy was shattered by Sukuna retracting both tongues from your body after he whispered 'delicious'.

Moments later you were turned around, your back against his chest as you moved up and down on his cock.

His hands continued to stimulate your nipples, as you grew wetter and wetter with each thrust. Your eyes clouded with pleasure as you slowly forget your motive.

Everything below you was now drenched in your arousal, Sukuna reveling in every second of it. His other pair of hands remained on your hips, pressing down and making it harder for you to move.

Slowly you started to lose your control, eyes brimming with tears due to the frustration of not being able to move.

You were so close, your stomach growing heavy with your release.

So as your last resort, you start to beg.

"M-master Sukuna! I'm gonna cum! Gonna cum, please let me move!"

You wiggle against his hold not caring about how pathetic you looked. You continue to plead but he doesn't reply.

"Please! Please! I want to cum!"

"You have satisfied me. Tell me, how should I reward you?" He finally spoke making you pause your babbles.

"W-what? Please, just let me move, Master Sukuna!"

"I told you. I'll give you anything you want once I'm satisfied. Tell me, what do you want?"

"Nothing! P-please- please!"

"Are you sure? Everyone wants something. Tell me, and I'll give it."

"Then! Please, fuck me! I'm s-so close, Master Sukuna! Please make me cum! That's what I want!"

Sukuna smirks in triumph. You had played right into his hands. He grinned against your nape, using his hands to push you forward off the seat and against the floor.

He got behind you and continued to thrust into you, ass rippling due to the force of his hips.

"There's your true nature. You could have used this opportunity to leave but you insisted on being a whore. That's alright, I like this look you."

You could only whine out in response to his words.

"Let's wait till the realization settles in, knowing you're milking your enemy's cock as your comrades walk to their deaths."

You had started crying, the pleasure overtaking all your emotions when his fingers rubbed harshly against your clit.

"Even then, you would choose me. Correct?" He asks, smirking when you nod dumbly as your lower abdomen grows tighter.

"Ahh~ I would choose you! So-ngh! Just- right there!"

You let out a hoarse moan when the tension snaps, throwing your head back as you cream on his cock, some of your arousal spurting out and onto the floor.

Your orgasm came in waves, making you dizzy as his thrusts never stopped. He continued to fuck you through your release determined to build another one.

"You hear that, brat? She says she would choose me." Sukuna says in a taunting tone. You continue to pant heavily from your release but try to look back at him, confused by his words.

Only then did you notice a figure standing below at the end of the stairs.

"W-wait...stop..." You voice out, your voice trembling.

"Weren't you saying how much you looked up to your [name]-senpai? Well, I'm sure the truth is apparent to you." Sukuna continues to taunt the figure, not once halting his thrusts.

"NO! YUJI DON'T LOOK!" You screamed desperately, finally meeting the eyes of your junior classmate.

Your tears flowed freely, finally realizing Sukuna's actions. Was he trying to break Yuji's soul?

From the look on Yuji's face, it was obvious that Sukuna was successful. And you had stupidly played into his hands.

"LOOK AWAY YUJI! STOP RIGHT NOW SUKUNA! STOP IT!" You were glad that Yuji complied and looked away from you, but the heavy tears falling from his eyes only added to your guilt.

"Why would I stop? You're clenching. You're going to cum again." He states. And he was correct.

His cock reached where you could never imagine, the pressure against your sensitive walls only brought you closer to another release.

"Pl-please, stop..."

You whimper-moan desperately, making sure that Yuji's gaze is nowhere near you.

"Don't order me around. This took a lot of effort, to bring you into my innate domain. You should be fucking honored."

"Cumming!"

You scream out without realizing, Sukuna following soon after to fill you up, not removing himself until every single drop was settled deep in you.

"I was going to kill you, to hurt the stupid brat. But this was way too much fun! I wonder how the Gojo Sorcerer would react seeing his student so dumb on my cock."

1K notes · View notes

property-of-neteyam · 18 days

Note

I need to let out my inner slut and tell you how much I want neteyam x human reader getting eaten out by him for the first time 😭😭

A helping friend

Adult Neteyam x fem!human reader

Summary : As the great friend Neteyam is, he always helps you and teaches you something new. But one day, he taught you what pleasure feels like.

Warnings : oral (fem receiving), dom!Neteyam, sub!Reader, first time, virginity loss, non-con, size difference, praising <3

Word count : almost 1.5k

Translations : narlor - beautiful ; yawntutsyìp - little loved one ; sevin - pretty (female) ; syulang - flower

It is true that you and Neteyam are best buddies since you were little. You two were always with one another, never being alone. If you were somewhere, Neteyam was after you and vice versa.

As time passed and you both grew older and became even closer. He began bringing you new things he found interesting and taught you about them as much as he already knows. He wanted to make sure that even if you're human, you know everything about his clan. He wanted you to know every plant, animal and weapon, to identify them as quickly as possible.

He thought he taught you everything you needed to know, but he was wrong.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Neteyam is finally free. All his duties for today are finished and he can rest in peace. He takes his bow and walks back to his family's hut, desiring a much deserved nap. Neteyam's a busy man because the role of the next Olo'eyktan doesn't come just like that, he has responsibilities too.

He enters the hut and places his weapons and warrior garments next to the flap, in their original spot. His golden eyes scan the area and find out he's alone. His parents must have left and his siblings are out somewhere, doing something probably crazy.

A sigh leaves his mouth and he storms out of the hut. He can't stay like that, alone. But he decides to visit his little human.

You are the most annoying thing he has ever met but he won't trade you for anything in the world. You are funny too, something he adores but also hates at the same time since your humour can be a bit too much for him.

Neteyam walks towards the lab, his long strides carrying him the distance as he arrives in just a few minutes. He pushes the door open and extends his large arm to grab a breathing mask. He brings it to his neck and lets it hang loosely around it as he lifts the mask to his nose and breathes in and out.

Neteyam makes his way to your room, knowing the way like the back of his hand. There, he sees you lying flat on your bed, a book in your hands. You are wearing an oversized t-shirt of Spider's since he doesn't wear them and a pair of shorts that belong to you and reach just below your butt. Neteyam had always joked about the way you looked but not in a bad way. He likes the way your body looks and wants you to know that.

With great care, he goes towards you and lets his big body fall on top of your fragile one, earning a surprised yelp from you.

"Get off!" you demand and instead of moving off of you, he chuckles and wraps his long arms around you, looking yours inside his to keep you close.

"It's not funny Teyam." you sigh and try to wiggle out of his grasp only for him to hug you tighter.

"Don't wanna." he mumbles in the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. "I like to stay here, on top of you." you feel like going crazy. Besides him being heavy as fuck, he is also stubborn and hard to convince.

"You are going to crush me. Get off so we could talk like two normal people!" now your patience is running off but Neteyam doesn't pay attention. Man is in his own world.

"Have I ever told you I'm not normal?" you don't need confirmation, he is teasing you and has that smug smile on his face. You want to slap him hard. Right now, right here. But you can't! Why? Because he has you trapped underneath him. What made you choose a behemoth as your best friend?

You want to speak again, but he is quick to cut you off, "I brought you nothing today... but I guess I could show you something new." his raspy voice lingers in your ears for a moment longer. Something new?

"What do you mean, Teyam? You said you didn't bring me anything for today?" you ask but he chuckles again.

"Have you ever..." he stops speaking as his large hand sneaks its way to the band of your shorts, pulling at it before letting go of it and watching it slap against your hip. You breath hitches in your chest at the thought of him touching you. It's true that you never touched yourself before because you didn't know how. You wanted your first time to be special, not you masturbating yourself.

"No..." you let out a shaky breath as he runs one long finger across your already soaked folds, collecting all your juices.

"Then why don't we try, huh?" he's teasing you, enjoying the fact that from someone with attitude he turned you into a mess who can't even comprehend her own words.

You don't know if you should. Yes, you are best friends and trust each other with your lives but this, you don't know if you can allow him to take away your virginity.

As if he's sensing your discomfort, Neteyam places a wet kiss on the back of your nape.

"I will make you feel good, narlor. Let me give you a taste of what you never experienced." his plea sounds so good that you almost nodded. His large digit rubs circles on your clit, and you involuntarily arch your back in his chest.

"There you are. I knew you would like this." he continues to rub your bud, his eyes never leaving your tiny frame that was trapped under his mass.

"Neteyam..." "I'm right here yawntutsyìp. Tell me you like it, tell me you want more." when you don't answer, he pulls back. All the pleasure you felt is now gone like it wasn't even there. A whine leaves your mouth at his action, regretting not responding to his question.

"See what you did? You always talk but now you can't tell me 'yes'?" he lifts himself off of you and rolls you over on you back, your calves being put over his thick thighs.

"You are rude." you point your finger at him but he smirks down at you. Gently, he pulls down your shorts and is surprised not to see anything else under.

"Nothing? It's like you were calling for me." Neteyam leans down and takes a long breath, your scent intoxicating him. Your aroma is what Neteyam is addicted to from now on. His blue lips make contact with your hot skin, leaving sloppy kisses along your stomach and inner thighs.

He lowers his head between your small thighs and dives in. His lips wrap around your clit and sucks on the small bud as he teases your entrance with his thick fingers. You throw your head back and close your eyes tightly, the pleasure intensifying with his mouth on you. You look down at him and he's already staring, never breaking eye contact. His piercing stare makes you wet if not wetter. Neteyam can feel his fingers getting soaked around your lips and smirks, the corner of his lips tugging upwards.

His mouth releases your clit with a wet pop as he lowers his head, his hands coming to your thighs to spread them even wider. When his large tongue enters you, your eyes roll back from the overwhelming pleasure. You back arches hard and you unintentionally push Neteyam's tongue deeper into you. Of course this doesn't go unnoticed by him as he moves it in and out of you, his flat nose rubbing against your clit with every thrust.

"Fuck — Nete, I'm close.." you whimper and grip at his braids. Neteyam hums in response as he continues to lap at your juices like a hungry animal. A loud pornographic moan leaves your mouth as the coil in your stomach snaps.

Neteyam pulls back and wipes away your slick from his chin and jaw with the back of his hand, gazing down at your now numb form.

"You sounded so pretty, sevin." your eyes roll at his comment before they drift to the ceiling. Why didn't you do that earlier? You didn't know how to touch yourself but also didn't want to make a fool of yourself.

"Thank you. Thank you for showing me... for, teaching me what pleasure feels like. I think that's the best lesson I ever got from you." you say weakly, catching your breath though there is truth behind those words. Neteyam nods at your words and comes closer to you, lying beside you and curling his big body around yours.

"Always, syulang." he presses a kiss on the top of your head before he drags a blanket over you, wrapping you in it like a baby. He hugs you tightly to his chest and closes his eyes, drifting off to sleep with you in his embrace and heart.

#property-of-neteyam #𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐈—requests #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam x human #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam smut #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam scenario #neteyam series #neteyam suli x reader #neteyam x you

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lilywastaken · 10 months

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— Simon helps reader with getting ready.

> This blurb is part of my series — MÉNAGE !

CW: Talks of poor body image, stretch marks, scars.

"'Necklace looks nice."

"You think?" You mumbled, staring at yourself in the mirror as you clipped the back. "It's weird, dressing up."

After all, it'd been a long time since you'd spent so long on your makeup or appearance, having given up mostly on cosmetics ever since you became a mother. Which made you all the more excited to do your makeup again, properly, not just the curling and mascara or gloss you'd rush when going out, a full-face of makeup, even if it was just for drinks with a few friends.

"Goes with the dress." Simon offered after a moment of silence, clearly having gone quiet in hopes of coming up with a compliment that didn't sound so bland, but said what he'd originally thought at the beginning as bland as it was, not knowing much about fashion.

"Yeah, I suppose." You snorted, looking down at the short skirt of the dress and trying to pull it down slightly to cover some of the stretch marks that threatened to show. "...maybe I should wear tights or something."

"Why?" Simon grunted, turning to look at you from his spot on your bed, Tommy rolling around in a few blankets next to him, playing with some of his father's fingers. "'S not going to be cold tonight."

"Yeah, but…" you pushed yourself out of your chair, turning around to show yourself to the blond, letting his eyes scan your body from head to toe, lingering slightly on the cleavage showing thanks to the low cut. "Look."

"I am."

"No! Here!" Your hands came down to rest on your thighs, bringing his attention to the plush parts of your legs. "They look ugly."

"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows, scanning your skin in hopes of finding what you had deemed "ugly", findinging nothing. "What looks ugly?"

"The scars!" You whined, hands landing on your stomach and prodding at your tummy. "I mean… I got them after Tommy, they're all over my body, they kind of just… don't look good."

Simon outstretched a hand out to you, bringing you closer to the bed when you immediately took it, helping you kneel down on the mattress and collapse against his side, snuggling into his warmth as his arms enveloped you.

"I think they look good, lovie." He mumbled against the top of your head, his thumb rubbing comforting circles into your arm. "'Reminder of what you did. Of what you made. 'Bit corny, but it's true."

"I know… it's just… Weird. I don't know how to explain it, Si…" you sighed, running your own fingers over his covered chest.

"If you don't feel comfortable showing them, there's no shame in covering up. Not going to try and force you to go out like that if you don't want to. Just remember you don't have to feel disgusted by them." He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, making sure to avoid your makeup in hopes of not ruining it.

"Yeah… I guess." You mumbled, closing your eyes to savour the feeling of his lips against your skin. "Just… nervous... Maybe I should just stay-"

"No. C'mon." Simon grunted, grabbing you by the hips and pushing you up and off the bed, leaning back against the array of pillows behind him. "You promised them."

"You really want me to go, huh?" You sighed, letting a cheeky smile pull at your lips as he looked down at you with an arched brow, trying to figure out if you were being serious with your accusation or not. But when he did, he let out a huff, rolling his eyes before squeezing you tighter, making you let out a string of giggles.

"Yeah. Fuckin' hate your guts. Been waiting for you to leave forever." He mumbled, contradicting his teasing words as he continued to press kisses against your face, relishing in the way your nose scrunched up and your eyes shone when he leaned back to gaze into them. "Go on then. Get on with it."

"Yeah, yeah." You laughed, rolling your eyes at him before slapping at his chest playfully, batting your eyelashes at him. "Hate you too, Si."

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mwii #simon riley #ghost #simon ghost riley #— ménage

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mayfieldss · 4 months

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Lessons in chemistry - Peter Parker

Synopsis: Your best friend Peter tries to teach you how to skateboard, but distractions occur.

AN: it's one in the morning, and I gave in to the delusions. They have taken me in as one of their own, and they said they would let me go if i posted this.

"You gotta trust me, okay?" Peter's got one foot on the skateboard, holding it steady as you stand a fair distance away, hesitant and unsure why you agreed to this particular day.

Peter had offered to teach you to skateboard, and while the offer seemed perfectly reasonable and fun at the time, being here now was an entirely different story. You were beyond clumsy and hopeless when it came to learning new things. Peter knew this, yet he seemed so certain you could do this one activity.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Peter." You're squinting as the sun beats down at you, and the concrete you stand on currently seems far too menacing to learn to skate on. Peter had originally offered to start you out on grass, but to do that you would have had to go somewhere more public to find some, being in new york and all, and you weren't fond of embarrassing yourself in front of more than just Peter.

"Just c'mere." Peter is waving you over to him, and the gentle smile on his lips is enough to bribe you closer.

"Okay, now give me your hands."

You do as you're told, and he gives your hands an encouraging squeeze.

"I'm holding the board steady. It shouldn't go anywhere when you get on, okay?" He's trying to make you feel better, but the anxiety within you picks apart his words.

"It shouldn't, but it might." You mumble, eyes down on the board, glaring harshly at its existence.

"Can you just trust me madame pessimism?" There's a humorous sigh that falls from him as you get up the courage to step on the board, and when you do, it seems okay.

"See? There you go. The first step is done." Peter squeezes your hand again, and you wobble a little on the board despite Peter keeping it from rolling away.

"Well, this was fun. Time to go home now." It comes off as a joke, but you're more than serious as Peter shakes his head.

"Give it a chance."

You look up at him, and you're oddly close. With your hands in his, it's almost as though you're about to dance under the old overpass at which you stand. "Okay, Parker, I trust you." You mean it, but that doesn't mean you're at all comfortable with what you're about to do. Part of you wishes you'd stayed home, while the other is glad to be here with Peter.

"I'm gonna take my foot away from the board now, okay? It's gonna roll a little, but I got you so don't worry."

"I'm worrying Peter."

He laughs. A beautiful laugh and a wonderful smile accompanying it before he begins the fated count down. "On three, one, two–" he lets the board free, and you don't move much, being on flat ground and all, but still the slight adjustment freaks you out just a little. Again, you sway on the board, and Peter holds you steady.

"I hate this so much." You whine, unable to contain the true depth of your feelings. The situation is so far out of your comfort zone that it feels as though your skin is crawling with you inside it.

"Well, it's not like I can tell or anything. I mean, you look like you're having a great time. You know, with the tense shoulders and genuine panic in your eyes, I would have assumed you were having fun or something." his sarcasm does little to ease you, but it's so truly Peter. So authentic to his person that you can almost imagine yourself standing on flat ground beside him, rather than supported by the wheels of his old and flimsy skateboard.

"Let's just get this over with." You try for a smile, but it's hard to do, every muscle in your body preoccupied with trying to stay as still as possible.

"We're gonna try and move now, just a little."

"Fuck."

"Yeah," Peter laughs "fuck."

And just like that, you're rolling along, heart beating quickly as Peter sends encouragements. You're stable for a few moments before you get into your head and feel yourself tilting backward. Letting go of his hands, you rush to grasp Peter's shoulders, his hands falling to your waist as he pulls you toward him and off the board.

"Woah, okay, that was a good first attempt."

You're gripping him tight, too tight, as the board rolls away from you both. Peter will go get it later, but for now he's with you.

"I almost died." You mutter, a death grip on Peter's jacket.

"You were fine." Peter chuckles, pulling you in for a hug. You accept it, despite the fact you're slightly upset with him for making you do this. And when you pull back, squinting up at him you lose all the stress from before.

Peter loses himself entirely, thinking things nowhere near the topic of skateboarding and closer to the topic of kissing.

"You did great... really great." Peter insists one hand running down your back as he tries to stop the thoughts racing through his head. He'd always liked you, as more than a friend. He'd always wanted to wake up beside you, hold your hand, take you to prom. He'd always wanted you.

He clears his throat, and you look away from him, almost disappointed.

"You want to try again?" He asks, trying to get back on track. You shake your head and look back to him, and in your eyes, he sees something different. A sort of confidence.

"What do I get if I do?" You're teasing him. He thinks you are, at least, but the mischief you're offering is tempting.

"What do you want?"

"A dinner date, somewhere where there's pasta." You answer, so sure of yourself, and Peter's brain freezes up.

"A date as in a date or...?" He sounds so stupid like this, and he realizes just how close he still is to you. Where his hands are placed softly on your hips and where your fingers hold fast to his shoulders.

"Whatever you want it to be, Peter. Now, if we have a deal, I would like to try again." You look to the direction the skateboard had gone and see it paused a small distance away, but you don't get to retrieve it. Before you can, Peter's hand comes up to your face, fingers placed gently on your jaw to turn your gaze back his way.

It's not what you expect from him, and in honesty, it's not what Peter expects from himself either but he leans in closer, pausing just long enough for you to pull away if you want to.

"Do it." You whisper, your breath brushing over his lips, as if painting the grin that spreads onto his face.

The kiss is gentle, his nose bumping awkwardly with yours as he leans closer, closing the gap. He can feel the heat in your cheeks when he places his hands there, thumb brushing over the skin as he breathes you in. Your fingers grip his shoulders harder now, moving up toward his neck to hold him closer, and there's something about the way you move with him so perfectly that makes him think this can't possibly be real. But it is, and when he pulls back for air, he examines your features, hoping for your reaction. You speak first, before he can.

"That was weird," you say, breaking his heart a little. "But in a good way. I'd like to try it again sometime, if that's okay with you?" You mend the break easily, and soon he's grinning again, one hand finding it's way into your hair.

"It's definitely okay with me." Peter mumbles, eyes drifting back down to your lips in anticipation.

"Should I book a time with your secretary for our next appointment?" Your head tilts to the side as you watch every expression that crosses his face. He's beautiful, definitely, and his heart is yours.

"As a matter of fact, I have an hour or two free right now. I was skateboarding with this girl I really like, but I think her mind is wandering elsewhere."

You smack him hard on the arm, but before you can remark anything back, he's kissing you again, sending you into a blissful silence.

You're learning very little about skateboarding, but it seems your time is well spent anyway. Peter doesn't care how long he's here for, and he'll forget his skateboard under the overpass in favor of walking you home. He'll hold your hand the whole way there and kiss you goodbye on the doorstep before he leaves. He'll have everything he's ever wanted by the end of the day, skateboard or not, and that's more than okay with him.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu

MARVEL GENERAL: @5kyyyy

TASM PETER PARKER: @arignipanja574 @winter-soldier-vibes

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dahliamalfoy97 · 1 year

Text

FEAST - Upper Moons, Muzan x Y/N reader

MuzanxKokushiboxDoumaxReader

Synopsis: Muzan calls for a meeting with the 3 Upper Moons and his wife is just s little greedy and Muzan decides to share her.

Warning: SMUT 18+ explicit content, slight dub con, group sex, rough sex, threesomes, choking, slapping, spanking, degradation kink, praise kink, slight blood kink, masochism, voyeurism? Monster kink, size kink, oral sex, mentions of kidnapping, murder,violence. So much going on in this.

A/N: first time writing a big group sex thing so it’s probably a bit cringey at times and it’s not edited so there’s probably lots of errors. I am such a simp for these four and have been trying to put them together the best I could. Anyways, hope you enjoy and don’t say I didn’t warn ya 😏

Word count: 7,102

"Y/N," Master Muzan calls from the dining hall, "please bring some of that wine out here."

You hurriedly, grab the bottle and a glass from the cabinet and rush out to the dining room. You freeze for a moment when you arrive. Noticing the Master isn't alone- there's 2 Upper Moon demons siting at the table, your master at the center while one of them sits at his left and the other at his right.

Moonstruck, you cautiously, approach the table, taking in all the guests in a mixture of awe and fear. These two were the real deal. demons after Muzan himself. They were all sitting in one room and you feel the powerful aura that emanated from each of them.

"I'm so sorry, Master, " you stutter, "I didn't realize we had guests, or I would have gotten more glasses."

"It's alright, little dove," Those crimson eyes meet your nervous ones, searing into your soul as usual, making you feel all sorts of flustered.

Master Muzan was the King of Demons. The one that commanded them all to do his bidding. He held the most power. He was also the Devil incarnate because he was able to create demons and to become more powerful he fed on humans. He had an unrivaled bloodlust and was cold to everyone around him. He was cunning, vicious and evil. To everyone but you.

You had been just a human girl, on the brink of starvation when he took you in. He originally was going to fatten you up to kill you, but he ended up finding comfort in your presence and ended up falling for you instead. Because most humans would have been disgusted and terrified of him. But you were willing to do anything to please him. Most demons like him - emotions capable of emotions like love. But you had made him feel much more powerful than his demon army could.

Naturally, you too had fallen in love with the Devil who had saved you. Call it Stockholm Syndrome if you will- but you willingly stayed after learning what he really was. After seeing the blood he shed and the lives he destroyed. You fell in love with the monster anyways.

"Well isn't she a delight?" One of the upper moons cooes, he was ethereal. Like an demon in angel's clothing. This was the vibe the demon gave. He had friendly and inviting smile on his face, but something in those rainbow irises told you it was probably just a mask of the true intent that hid underneath. The one that was full of malice and all things evil. He made you shiver at how someone demonic could look so heavenly. He had pale porcelain skin, and long locks of silvery blonde hair, that swept in all kinds of different directions.

"This is my wife, Y/N," Your Master, replies. "Little dove, this is Douma, he's Upper Rank 2."

You bow your head in respect, "it's a pleasure to meet you."

"my my and she knows her manners too," he kisses your hand with his lips, his touch cold yet shivers automatically shoot down your spine. Something about this demon intrigued you and you wanted so desperately to know the devil underneath those rainbow eyes.

"Lord Douma, if you could please keep your hands to yourself," Muzan warns.

"But I mean she just looks so exquisite- it's shame she's your wife. I'd claim her for myself in an instant."

"You're disgusting," another Upper Moon mumbles to the left of Douma. "Have some fucking respect."

This demon had a more serious aura about him, he seemed more pissed off that he was here. He had hair the color of magenta and eyes like seemed to glow like the sun. His skin was a cool gray hue that had blue lines marking his skin and the rest of his body. He was well defined, as had an open purple vest that exposed his torso. You so desperately wanted to trace all those lines on his chest to see how deep they ran.

"Oh calm down, Pink Head, I'm just paying the lovely lady with some compliments."

"You never have genuine compliments," The Pink haired Upper Moon hisses. "or genuine intentions."

You can't help but giggle at their little banter. All three pairs of eyes focusing on you when you do. You can't help but feel a little shy being at the focus of all these powerful demons. Handsome ones at that.

"She giggled," The Pink Haired Demon says, sounding surprised. "Has she no fear of being around us?"

Muzan looks at you with adoration, "no, my little dove is quite fearless."

"Amazing," Douma wonders, "and she's so fûcking cute too."

Suddenly the doors to the dining room burst open, and the air shifts. As if it was a sunny day and the thunder decided to roll in. This is power this demon had. He had the most intimidating presence of all. He was very tall and muscular, taller than the rest of the demons here. His hair fell into black luscious waves, the ends dipped in a deep red. But it was his eyes that made you tremble. Six pairs of eyes the color of the moon- his scleras a deep red that matched the tips of his hair. He was beautiful in such an intimidating way. If you weren't currently married to Muzan, you'd be falling in your knees in an instant for this man.

"Look who finally decided to show up." Douma taunts, earning a cold glare from the demon.

Something inside you quivered which each step he took. His purple and black checkered kimono billows behind him.

"Kokushibo, you're late," Muzan adds.

"I was busy," the demon finally replies and oh his voice is enough to make you press your thighs together.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You were married to the most powerful demon of all and yet you were craving these demons just as much.

The newcomer- Kokushibo. Who you knew from the character that was stained on his iris- that he was the Upper Rank One, took a seat the other end of the table.

"Well now that everyone is here, we can finally start this meeting, little dove, do you mind getting some more glasses ? "

"Of course, Master," when you looked in those crimson eyes there was a knowing smirk there and you exit the dining room in a flash.

While you're in the kitchen, you can't help but sneak a hand underneath the folds of your skirt, past your panties and feel your arousal dripping.

The amount of power in that dining room had you soaked to the core, flustered and embarrassed at the lewd images that filled your head, you hastily pull your skirt back down and grab the glasses from the cabinet.

Being a little short, you struggle to reach some of them, you try to climb the cabinet but a hand snakes around your waist, pining you between the counter and his backside. "Careful, little one, you're going to injure yourself." He reaches up to grab the glasses for you and places them in your hands, his pale large veiny hands covering your small ones completely.

"Thank you, Lord Douma," you say, a little breathless at the way he was holding you. You could feel something against your backside.

"No problem, little one, I'd be happy to help you in any way," He whispers seductively in your ear, his voice is soft and melodic but the way he speaks, has your nipples straining against the fabric of the flimsy gown you wore.

"Aren't you supposed to be at the meeting?" You murmur as you feel a hand creep under your skirt.

"I am but I excused myself for the bathroom, sometimes a man has needs to attend to," his hand traces circles along your thigh before reaching the outline of your panties. "I know your Muzan's, but fuck, I can't keep my eyes off you. I want to devour you so badly but my curiosity for you and what you'd feel like around my cock, overshadows that and I want nothing more than to have a little taste of you," he tugs your ear between his teeth causing you you whine softly, his fingers dip into your panties and begin to rub your clit. "Did you know all of us demons have a heightened sense of smell, so I can smell your sweetness from across the room. And I just gotta have it."

"But I'm Muzan's," you protest lamely, arching your back as the circles on your clit quicken.

He laughs into your ear, "that's not what your sopping cunt says right now. Akaza was right. I'm not a man with good intentions. I take what I want, when I want."

With a wicked glint in his, he inserts a finger into your hole, he groans lightly at the way your finger just sinks him in, "so fucking wet for pussy that belongs to someone else."

You shamelessly begin to grind yourself againt him as he begins to fuck you his finger.

"Look at you, grinding on me like a needy slut," Douma cooes, while adding a second finger, scissoring them to stretch out your gummy walls. Soon a third finger is added, and you're a sopping mess as he curls them upward immediately finding the spot that makes you scream. "Careful now, don't want your husband to hear you, or maybe you do."

All you can do is whine as he fucks you brutally with his fingers, you hear some rustling, and then your panties are being ripped down, and something hard is poking at your entrance. As soon as it pierces your walls, you let out a wail. The stretch burns and Douma gives you no chance to adjust to his curved long cock as he brutally pistons into you. Your still wedged between him and the counter so there's no room for you to move. Your completely trapped and helpless against his assault on your body.

"Fuck. So. Damn. Tight," he moans in your ear.

You could feel every scrape and every vein of his throbbing cock hammering into you, he was much longer than Muzan was and seemed to reach places deeper, and perhaps it was the precarious position you were in but all you could feel was him.

"Don't stop," you cry, you knew it was wrong for letting Douma fuck you, but it felt too good that you couldn't resist submitting to his control.

"Don't worry, Dollface," he pulls your ass out so it's angled and you have more room to move. You finally can glance down at where your connected, his balls slapping against your skin, that you knew would leave bruises with how hard they were slapping. His thrusts were relentless, animalistic. The counter's edges dig into your skin with each thrust.

Muzan has his rough tendencies, but this was another level, and you were overwhelmed by the pain and pleasure.

Douma's hands travel to your covered breasts and he cups them in his large hands giving time a squeeze.

"You keep clenching around me and I'm going to cum sooner than we both want. Although maybe I should use you for my own personal cum dump, and just take what I want from you."

You're so incoherent at this point that all the comes out of your mouth is strangled garbles, which turns into a whimper when he wraps a hand around you throat to cut off your airway.

"But unfortunately we can't take as long as we want, because your husband is probably wondering where we are," he just continues to babble in your ear.

The possible reminder of Muzan catching you with Douma, made you even more aroused than it should. You clamp around his cock at the thought, which causes him to fuck you harder. You could feel your stomach coiling he continued to pound into that one spot. He kept playing with your airway, with each thrust of his cock he would squeeze and then let go.

"Fuck, Douma, I'm close," you cry, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"So am I, your pussy is amazing, I want to kidnap you and keep you for my own. Muzan is a lucky motherfucker."

His thrusts become slower more torturous as if to draw out your agonizing orgasm, which was desperate for release. You were about to lose it if you didn't cum soon. The ache was too much. Too overwhelming.

"Please Douma, let me cum," you beg.

He laughs, "You can beg better than that."

you pout, but that instantly changes when his speed picks up again, rocking your body with his, "FUCK DOUMA LET ME CUM PLEASE."

He cackles, his rainbow irises bright with amusement, "if Muzan comes in here because of that we are both dead."

"I don't care," you hiss, pushing yourself back on his cock trying to get more.

"Well go ahead then, cum slut, make a mess on my cock," Douma encourages. "If you're the desperate to. I think you're just too drunk on my cock to not care about anything else."

His mocking tone along with his greedy thrusts, has you coming undone.

"That's it, make a mess for Douma," he grins madly, before thrusting a few more times before exploding inside you. You both watch in satisfaction as his cum fills you up. "Looks so pretty with my cum." He grabs something behind him and shoves it into your pussy, making sure his cum doesn't leak out.

"Shit Douma, what if Muzan sees?"

The haze of sex has lifted and you're reminded of what you had just done. But there's no shame or remorse on Douma's face and you sure don't regret a single thing.

"Well if Muzan finds out we're both dead, but it was worth it. Come let's go back to the meeting I'm sure he's wondering where both of us went."

Douma leaves you and you hastily follow after. Arriving at the dining room.

"Sorry, Master Muzan i must have had an upset stomach, one of the girls I ate today before coming here must have messed me up," his rainbow irises have disappeared into crescent moons as he takes his seat next to Akaza.

How could he act like nothing happened just now? Meanwhile, you could feel his cum still inside you, and your cheeks were probably flushed. You had no idea how you looked right now.

As soon as Muzan's scarlet cat eyes land on you, you see that familiar glint in them, and you know he knows.

He was the Demon King after all, he knew everything.

"Little dove, did you forget the glasses as I asked for you to get for our guests?"

His tone is calm, but there's an underlying of a mocking tone.

Shivers immediately go done your spine as you bow in a frenzy, "I'm so sorry, Master I- I don't know how I could have forgotten. I'll go back and get them."

"What a bad girl," Muzan tsks. "You forgot something so simple? I wonder why that is."

"Muzan- I-"

"Y/N come here."

You freeze he never uses your actual name unless it's for a punishment. Ashamed you walk over to where Muzan is sitting, but it's a little hard to with Douma's cock nearly damaging you just moments ago. Whom had a smug grin on his face.

"Muzan-"

"Shut the fuck up and turn around," you shiver at cold and calm his tone was. But you obey nonetheless.

Muzan pushes you against the table, your front side digging into the edge. He pushes up the hem of your skirt and your cheeks immediately heat. All of the demons in this room could see your naked ass. But before you could look to see what their reactions are like, a hand comes down on your ass hard, you jolt at the sudden harsh sting. You look back at those scorching scarlet orbs that seemed to burn into you. Fingers graze your swollen pussy, that's stuffed with your underwear."

"Looks like you've been having too much fun with one of my demons," Muzan states, flashing a glare at Douma before glaring at you again. He tugs the cloth out for your pussy and you cry feeling the liquid drip out of you.

"Douma you just can't control yourself can you?" Akaza scolds and you hear a sudden slash. You turn to see Douma's head being split in half. Akaza's hand covered in his blood. You grimace at the sudden violence but a slap against your ass steals your attention.

"Of course he couldn't," Muzan chastises, "how could he resist such a slutty pussy? Especially when it belongs to me?"

"Because it's fûcking paradise, that pussy is," Douma's melodic voice is back and you see that he's regenerated looking as bright as ever.

"Did he fuck you good?" Muzan inquiries, ignoring the Upper 2, his focus entirely on you and your flushed cheeks and the way Douma's cum oozes out of your glistening cunt. "Looks like he did if you let him cum in you."

You're at a loss for words.

He suddenly grips your throat yanking your had back, choking you slightly, making you look at only him, "fucking answer me, slut!"

"Y-yes," you sob, "He fucked me really good."

He chuckles darkly, "perhaps I should let them all fuck you. Huh? Would you like that? Because you're such a slut my cock isn't enough to satisfy you? So you must have them all."

"Muzan-" you try to plead but suddenly your mouth is being stuffed with something wet. Your arousal pools when you realize it's your panties that's wet with yours and Douma's cum. The stench of sex fills your nostrils.

"Shut the fuck up and get on the fucking table."

Trembling out of embarrassment and arousal you climb on the table, your legs shaking.

Before you can situate yourself, Muzan is flipping you over on your back, and drags your head over the edge, letting it hang. Your legs are spread wide letting all the upper moons getting a view of your exposed cunt.The panties in your mouth are being yanked out and replaced with something hot, thick and heavy. Before you have a chance to process, it's being rammed down your throat without any warning.

Muzan looks at you with a sadistic grin as he plows his cock into your mouth. You could feel the blood rushing to your head making you light headed in this position. But he didn't care to stop at your precarious situation. For Muzan wasn't a kind man when he had to punish. His punishments were cruel and brutal. But never to you. That's why you were so shocked but aroused at his sudden cruelty. Saliva and his precum coated your tongue and dripped out of your mouth, as his balls slapped against your chin.

"What a pathetic little cock whore you are," Muzan mocks, as his cock continues tearing into your throat constantly hitting the back of it. "Who wants a turn with my whore's pussy first?"

"Don't mind if I do," you hear Douma say from somewhere, but your mind is too fuzzy. If you were human, you would have died from getting throatfucked in this position with how hard Muzan was abusing it. You wouldn't be able to talk after this for awhile or ever again if he continued. Suddenly, you feel hands spreading your legs apart, a cold breath hits your aching cunt and when the first flick of a tongue meets your folds, you buck your hips at feeling causing Muzan's cock to hit the back of your throat harshly. A chuckle sounding like Douma's tickles your dripping hole, causing you to flutter. You lose it when that tongue begins swirling your clit. Despite his cold breath Douma's tongue was hot and consuming against your pussy lips sending you into immediate overdrive with the urgent yet hungry way he eats you out. He holds your hips with his hands to keep you from squirming. Becoming a prisoner to his delicious assault. His fingers splay your wet lips open, making it easier to that sweet spot. His slurping noises have you screaming . You weave your fingers into those silky, soft silver locks and push him in as deep as can go.

"You taste so fucking sweet, Doll," Douma hums against your folds. His feasting on you is relentless. The way he swirls and sucks on your clit has you falling apart within seconds. But he doesn't stop when you've cum on his face already he just keeps going. Your thighs shaking as he guides you through another orgasm.

Meanwhile, Muzan is still violently fucking your throat, you could feel every vein of his hard cock as he repeatedly slams into you. It grows heavier against your throat and you knew he was close by the low-yet strained grunts coming from the Demon King above, but before you get the chance to feel his seed down your throat. He's yanking your head off and hot cum sprays your face instead. When you whine in protest, he interrupts, "coming down your throat would be a reward for you. I'm not sure you deserve the reward yet."

Douma, removes himself from your pussy, he guides you up into a sitting position, his face is soaked in your juices, you your lips at the sight.

"So delicious," he praises, before pulling you forward, he reaches for you face and brings you into a hungry, demanding kiss. His lips cold yet, hot at the same time. Tasting your arousal his tongue as he swirls it with yours. You shamelessly lock your arms around him bringing him closer so that you're in his lap, straddling him. You grind yourself on his clothed erection, causing him to coo in your ear. "Such a messy girl, you're making such a mess on my pants. Does it drive you crazy knowing that the four most powerful demons are watching you make a mess on me? Watching you turn into a dirty, greedy, little whore? Hmm?"

You turn into mush at his soft voice that's filled with such lewd words, you continue grinding on him, feeling his massive length under you.

"Yes, Douma."

He chuckles, leaning back lazily watching you fall apart in his lap, while he was doing nothing to help you.

"Look at your girl becoming a slut for another," Douma smirks at a glowering Muzan. You blink your eyes open and meet those scorching scarlet ones. Making you even more turned on. He was currently sitting in his chair, leaned back while stroking himself. His black curls sticking to his face from sweat. A feline, predatory look in the way he stares at you, while you're getting yourself off in another man's lap has you become more frantic- more bold. More needy.

"Yes because that's all she is. Is a good little whore for us demons to ruin."

You moan, gripping Douma's neck, glancing around the room at the others. Akaza was looking disgusted and aroused at the same time. As if fighting an eternal storm in his brain. But the noticeably large tent in his pants said otherwise. His golden eyes meet yours and you beckon him with your finger.

"Come join us, Akaza," you plead. Kokushibo on the other hand was much harder to read. He gave nothing away in those moon colored orbs as those six eyes stared at you with an intensity so strong but it was cold and indifferent at the same time.

"Yeah Koku and Akaza, am I only one going to indulge in this sweet pussy or are you guys going to join?"

"I have no interest," Koku hisses, but his eyes never shift from yours.

"I don't want to share with you," Akaza bites back. "I fucking hate you, rainbow child. "

"But it's not for me, it's for her."

"Plus it's my orders to get to know what's mine," Muzan adds. "And what you'll never get to experience again after this."

"More the reason for me not to join," Koku growls. "Why would I join if I can't keep her all to myself?"

"Because I want you too, Daddy," you plead.

Something in those six eyes flashes, something dangerous that coils in your gut, you come on Douma's lap making a mess, "good job, little one."

"You have no idea what you're asking of me," Koku warns.

"He's a coward then," Douma taunts, flashing the Upper One a charming smile, as he sheds out of his clothes, your jaw dropping as his body was revealed. Douma had a well toned physique his muscles were exquisite and smooth, broad shoulders and a slim waist. Your eyes traveled this cock that you hasn't been able to see before when he was fucking you with it in the kitchen. It was massively long with a slight curve. A good ten inches. You bet. And it stood red and angry against his taut stomach as crisscrossed his legs and brought you back into his lap, not wasting a moment guiding his long shaft into your awaiting heat. You wrap your legs around him, this position was new something you'd never done with Muzan. Every part of Douma was flushed with you. Your tits slapped against his bare chest you rode him in this position. Every inch of his cock was deep and snug against your slick walls. He lets out a strangled moan when you take your nails down his back. There was no telling where you ended and where he started. And you both loved it. He dug his sharp nails into your hips, trying to pull you in deeper.

"Fuck," you both moan, you throw your head back, in pure utter bliss. Reveling in the way he dug into your hole, how every vein and every crevice seemed to scrape along yours. You were sure he was all the way in your stomach.

"You feel so snug and warm against me Doll," Douma praises, his nails digging in deeper. Drawing a little blood causing you to arch into him. "Those idiots don't know what they're missing out on."

A low growl comes from Koku.

"Your blood is just a pretty as you are," Douma grins manically, he brings one of his hands that's covered in your blood. Before bringing it to his mouth. Those usually bright eyes instantly darken and turn feral, the sight of him tasting your blood has you sobbing in pure pleasure. He shoves one into your mouth causing you to choke around his fingers. You instantly taste the metallic taste on your tongue. "Don't you taste divine, little one? Fuck, I might just steal you away from Muzan. I'm too fucking addicted to everything about you. You are so fucking perfect for me. The perfect little doll who takes whatever I give you. don't you all want a taste?"

His words and his actions send you into a frenzy mess and it's not long before your spasming around him, clamping down on him as your orgasm takes over.

"Fuck Douma," you scream.

"I love it when you scream my name," Douma says ever so softly.

Before you have a chance to breathe, you're being pulled off of Douma's cock, you cry at the sudden emptiness. But strong arms whip you around, and without warning a new cock it's a little shorter than Douma's but it is thick, and it's girth is ravenous as it enters you, your head is being pushed down on Douma's lap. His still hard cock being shoved in your face, he just smirks and lifts your head.

"Took you long enough to join us, Pink Head."

"Shut the fuck up, Rainbow Shit," Akaza seethes as he rams into you from behind. His marked hands grip your hips, as he rocks forward into you. Your whole body is jerking at the sudden abruptness. "It's my fucking turn. So let me fuck the bitch."

"Ohmygodohmygod," you cry, "Akazaaaa, you feel incredible."

His cock split you open perfectly. You eagerly took his length in.

"Damn, who pissed you off pinky?" Douma teases, looking at you with a mischievous grin. His long fingers grip your chin and pries your mouth open, his other hand strokes his cock. He smacks teases your half opened lips with the tip, smearing precum on your face. "Open your mouth, little one."

You open up wide, he dutifully shoves your head down on his cock, you hollow your cheeks and slacken your jaw to help take him in. But he didn't really you a chance to adjust as he forced your head up and down his long shaft. Akaza's harsh thrusts causing for Douma's cock to bump down your throat even deeper. Everything felt so good. You'd never felt so used in your life and you were loving every inch of it.

"Now there's a good slut," Douma taunts, "my own personal cocksleeve. Is there anything you can't do?"

"How are you feeling little dove ?" Muzan suddenly calls out, sounding amused. "You're looking quite stuffed there."

To be honest, with the other two demons currently using you for their pleasure you had forgotten about your husband.

"Her mouth is too stuffed with my cock, Muzan, she's not going to answer you," Douma chants.

"Douma you talk too fucking much!" Akaza snaps, his hips snapping in response and then everything falls silent.

Except for skin on skin, and the lewd moans and slurping sounds that filled the room. The three of you were way to into this situation.

"That's it, bitch," Akaza growls as you begin to spasm around his cock. "Squeeze me just like that."

Meanwhile Kokushibo was as silent as ever. His moon colored eyes watching with unnerving intensity. He didn't know what he wanted. He knew he wanted you. But he hated everyone else in this room and didn't like the idea of having to share you with any of them. His cock was painfully hard under his kimono. His knuckles where white and gripping the edge of his seat. But watching how the mess the other demons turned you in, listening to your sweet moans and listening to how wet you were, it was driving him mad.

"Fuck,"' you managed in between having Douma's cock down your throat. "Don't fucking stop. Please Akaza."

"Don't worry, I won't stop until your leaking full of my cum."

Fuck. You were so overwhelmed. The pleasure was unbearable.

You came in white waves, just as Douma's load shot in your mouth.

"Good girl," Douma grins when you swallow all of it.

Not long after Akaza releases in your sensitive cunt with a low grunt, milking it all the way through til the last drop til he pulls out.

You fall into a heap on the table, completely covered in cum. Your whole body ached.

"If you truly want me to fuck you, Princess," Kokushibo suddenly speaks up, "you better crawl to me. And I'm not sharing you with anyone. You're all mine to fuck alone. Understood?"

Douma chuckles, "I don't think she can move, Koku."

"I understand, Daddy."

He chuckles deep and low, sending shivers down your spine.

"Now come to me," he orders.

Slowly, you sit up and get on your hands and knees. Your whole body aches, your drenched in come. But you want nothing more than to be fucked by the Upper 1. Ever since he walked through those doors. There was something about him that made you want to kneel before him and do whatever he asked of you. So you crawl. You feel the others watching you in silence. Even Douma is silent. Kokushibo's eyes never leave yours as you finally reach his end.

He stands up, and fuck, is he tall. He towers over everyone here, he grips your chin with his hands, making you look at only him. Those six eyes burn into every inch of you, "you better pray that you can handle everything I give you. Because I won't hold back. None of these idiots can compare to how I'll make you feel. Not even Muzan. I'll sweep you off your feet," he whispers so no one else but you can hear him. He glances up in the direction of Muzan, as he removes his clothes.

And holy shit is he built by the gods. Now not built by the gods. He is a god. Made of pure muscle. Pure power and pure dominance radiated from this demon. As if he was carved from stone. Not a single inch of him was flawed. You wanted to lick those abs. The flame pattern that he had on his face went down to his chest. Making him look even more exquisite. Your eyes shamelessly rake down to his rock hard cock. Or could you even call it that. It was bigger than anyone else's here. And it was thick. Long, thick and you knew it was going to break you.

"Fucking hell, Kokushibo, I might even be gay for you," Douma replies.

"Okay everyone out. Except for Y/N and Muzan. The other two I want you gone."

"But-"

"So selfish, don't you know sharing is caring-"

Douma is cut off by Akaza dragging him by the hair.

"From here on out, you're mine. With the permission of Muzan-"

"Oh you really think I'm just going to hand her over to you?" Muzan laughs darkly. "She's mine, she was mine before she was yours."

"Why don't you both just fuck me and stop this overbearing egotistical shit?" I ask. "If you both want me, then you have me."

" I don't share," Kokushibo seethes. "I would literally start a war to make you mine."

"But so would I," Muzan replies.

You roll your eyes.

"Well let's just see who fucks you better," Koku challenges.

"Sure," Muzan replies coldly. "Go ahead and give it your best."

"Lay down and spread those legs for me, Princess," Koku demands.

You immediately obey him, and watch him as he stalks towards you. He bends down and closes the distance between your lips. A wildfire burns through you at the intensity of his lips. The way he seemed to command and consume your lips. You barely could breath. You let out a moan when he nipped your bottom lip. His hands start to roam your body, and yours could barely grip onto his back. You were so small in comparison to him. But you were determined to feel every ridge. He begins to fondle your breasts, playing and kneading them like dough. You were nothing but putty in his hands. You reach for his cock, but he slaps your hand away.

"Fuck, Koku," you say breathlessly. "I need you now. Please."

"Patience," he hisses, his lips leave yours and starts leaving trailing down your neck. You arch into him when he begins sucking marks into your skin. He continues you mark and map you with his mouth, until he stops just right where you want him. Over your throbbing pussy. Which was still sensitive from the other demons, so you knew he was going to truly ruin you. He runs a finger along your slick seams and you hitch in a breath. "I love how you're still begging to be used after Douma and Akaza had their way with you. I guess you're not fucked properly enough if you can still crawl to me. Don't worry, Princess I'll fix that little problem for you."

He slowly inserts a long finger, groaning at the way you immediately suck him in. "Even though you've already been fucked by the others, you still need to be prepared to take me. Because I am much bigger than they are."

"Fuck," you whimper.

After prodding you with one finger he adds another and then a third. Scissoring open your gummy walls. He wastes no time curling them upwards and finding your spot. Jabbing them slowly, teasing you. You arch your back, but something stops you and pins you still. Muzan has joined in. But he's in his true demon form. With his white curly hair, and tentacles sprouting from his back. His tentacles are straining your arms, leaving you utterly immobile.

"You're so greedy fucking all my demons today. What, you want them all? Is that it? Am I not enough for you?"

"Y-you are enough i - I just-" you scramble for words, but you're slapped in the face, Kokushibo's mouth finally descends on your clit. " Lies!" Muzan growls at the same time you scream out " aww fuck!"

Kokushibo's tongue delves into every crevice, sucking while he still fucks you on his fingers. You eagerly grind on him, for more friction. Needing and wanting more.

"Koku, don't stop!" You cry.

Muzan leans over you and shoves his cock down your throat again. At the same time you feel yourself being stretched. No- ripped. You scratch the table since your arms are still pinned by Muzan's tentacles. Kokushibo wastes no time hammering his monster cock into you, greedily taking you however he wants. Muzan's cock plunges into your mouth with the same carnal desire.

"Such a good little toy," Muzan says. "Isn't she Kokushibo?"

But he ignores and focuses his attention on where your bodies meet. He could see the outlines of his cock in your stomach. The table was creaking underneath all the weight. Both demons destroyed and ravaged your body in the most inhuman way, none of them caring about how tired battered was becoming. It was a lewd sight. Truly insane. One of Muzan's tentacles curls around your body and down your clit. Sucking on it as Kokushibo's thrusts become harder, deeper.

You mumble incoherent moans around Muzan's cock. Your vision was becoming blurry, your body numb from all the attention it was receiving.

Another tentacle plays at your other entrance, the wet muscle teasing the rim of your opening.

"See you can own her pussy," Muzan states confidently, "but I own her entire body. Including her soul."

With that the tentacle pushes into your hole. Muzan pulls out of your mouth to let you scream. Choking you with his hands. You come instantly. Your body is being overwhelmed the pleasure was starting to hurt because you've come countless of times tonight, you didn't even know how many. But your body was reaching its limit. But you didn't want them to stop. All your holes are being filled and there wasn't an inch of you that belonged to you anymore. You were theirs. Their plaything.

"Shut the fuck up, Muzan!" Kokushibo warns.

Muzan just laughs, and sobers up when he notices how dizzy you're looking, "you okay, little dove? Do you need us to stop?"

Kokushibo slows a bit, caressing your face, "we'll stop princess, if you need us too."

You shake your head, "no... I'm fine."

Kokushibo picks you up, taking you into his arms, kissing you softly, his length still pounding upwards into you while you cling to him like a koala.

"Please don't stop, koku. I want you to come in me," you whine. Muzan is suddenly at your back. Your sandwiched in between the two most powerful demons, and you couldn't be more at peace.

"Lift her for me," Muzan commands softly. Kokushibo doesn't fight this time, he grips your ass with his massive hands a lifts you up, Muzan's tip nudges your other entrance before easing his way in. You whine at the sudden stretch of both men inside you. Both with big cocks and big egos. They take turns hammering into you. You grab Koku by the neck and pull him in for a sloppy, kiss. Moaning into his mouth. He kisses you back with as much fervor.

“fuck don’t stop you guys,” you plead, before pulling away from Koku. Muzan grabs you by the chin and claims your mouth with his you grip his white silky locks, tugging on them as he devours your mouth possessively.

You could feel your orgasm approaching and by the way both cocks were growing inside you, and hips were starting to stutter, you could tell both demons were close.

“Koku- Muzan - I’m close.”

“Makes a mess, Princess,” Kokushibo encourages gruffly, “make a mess on Daddy’s cock.”

“Little dove, cum for Master,” Muzan growls.

“I want us to come together, fill me up, please.”

“Alright,” Muzan says.

A few more thrusts and clenching around them, you throw your head back onto Muzan’s chest as both men fill both your holes up with cum at the same time.

“Awww fuck,” you all say unison when you’re being pulled off and cum gushes out.

“That is the most satisfying thing I’ve ever seen,” Muzan says.

But you’re eyes are drifting shut.

“I’ll have make you a mandatory part of our meetings from now on,” Muzan says, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“I hope you understand I’m not letting her go now,” Kokushibo warns. “She’s mine now too.”

Muzan rolls his eyes, lifting you into his arms.

“Well then how about she’s all of ours,” Douma appears with Akaza in tow.

“I don’t share,” Kokushibo snaps, “I will kill you all to have her to myself.”

“And I definitely don’t want to share her with you, Rainbow Shit.”

Douma pouts, “I thought we all just had a bonding moment. We’re friends now you and I.”

In a blink of an eye, Akaza swipes Douma’s head in half.

“You and I will never be friends.”

“How rude,” Douma sighs as he’s once again regenerated. “ I am seriously offended,” he puts a hand over his chest.

“You’re all lucky I let you indulge in MY WIFE,” Muzan reminds them harshly. “Next time I might not be so kind.”

“Guys can you all stop fighting over me?“ you murmur sleepily on Muzan’s lap. Still naked. Kokushibo grabs his kimono and places it over you to cover you up. “What if I want all of you?”

All eyes snap to you, all demons growl. Even Douma is annoyed.

“Sweetheart we are demons, we don’t share with others. We take what we want from others even if that means killing,” Douma explains. “ and us four demons specifically each other’s guts.”

“Fine, then I want none of you then,” you hiss.

“No!” Kokushibo snaps, “ you want all of us? Then fine. We’ll agree to your wishes if it makes you happy. “

“That’s if we don’t kill each other first,” Akaza pipes in.

“No promises,” Douma smirks.

"All right, little dove, you win-“ suddenly Muzan’s head is beheaded falling to the floor with a thud. Kokushibo is standing behind, before stealing you from the demon king, then before anyone can react.

Kokushibo vanishes with you in his arms.

“I believe this will definitely start a war Koku,” you protest.

“I don’t care, we both know the minute I walked through those doors, that you were mine.”

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, but you didn’t mind. He was right he stole you away from Muzan the minute he walked through those doors.

“So where are you taking me, Koku?” Pulling caressing his face softly.

He looks down at you with a warm smile, “I’m taking you home, with me. Where you belong.”

2K notes · View notes

moonit3 · 6 months

Text

A NEW HIM

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, nsfw, dubcon, exophilia, obsession, isolation, somnophilia (non consensual) so noncon, tentacles, fingering, reader is too naive for their own good.

➥ yandere! parasite x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: after moving to the countryside, your husband’s personality completely changed.

➥a/n: as a anon had to request me to write my original draft that was meant to be the alien, here is the parasite yandere! i enjoy writing this one as it’s my first time writing tentacles….never i thought to write it, but like they always said ‘you always have to try something new!’

➥ something is off about your boyfriend. from waking up before the sun rising, going hours without eating and wearing long sleeves shirts despite both of you living in a hot climate on the countryside. not to mention that he got more and more touchy in bed, he already was someone who couldn’t keep his hand away from you, but now it seems that he needs to have his hand over your body at anytime.

➥ and since he convinced to move to the countryside last year, there is none around to see his hand holding your thighs and waist, meaning that there is no around to interrupt when he feels like to touch you in the middle of kitchen, after all, none is there to witness it. most of times is just his hand going underneath your underwear, teasing you when you less expected and not stopping until you dirty his fingers.

➥ he used to be so timid when touching you, barely speaking during the act, but now, he looks someone entire different. from what you remember, his entire personality took a flip when the two of moved to the countryside, could it be that? since no one is around, your beloved husband began to show his true colors? probably so.

➥ working from home let him be always close to you, so close that makes he forget about personal space. he makes you sit on his lap if you aren’t busy and one of hands are always on your hips, caressing your skin and holding you back if you dare to move away from his bulge. it’s a little uncomfortable, you admit to him, but he pretends not to hear it.

➥ he makes you stay still right above his crotch, forcing you to feel how hardened he got just be having you on his lap. you are my everything, [name]. let me show how important you are to me. that what he always says when pulling your underwear by side, making you taking one, then two and finally three fingers inside to make you come to his touch. but he doesn’t stop there, not until you hit your limit, until you beg him to stop and sometimes even passing out. but it’s okay, he always take care of you afterwards, like a good husband!

➥ does it get a little tired with him touching all over your body almost daily? yes, it does. but it’s feels so nice to finally have him become so sweet and kind, he was so distant and cold towards you prior the moving. it’s almost like he is someone else! like an alien has taken over your husband’s spot, isn’t that a silly idea, right?

➥ everyday was a blessing until you got bed sick (oh no!) and husband began to take care of you. making delicious, forehead kisses and sleeping medicines to assure that you will get better soon. he knows how to take care of you, even though you began having this weird dreams recently.

➥ hands retrained by warmth things, tentacles, that holding your body against the wall and not daring to let you move away from it touch. while a male figure makes you cum over and over all night. it’s feel so real, so good and mostly, it’s feel so familiar when their hand hold your waist to accommodate something that isn’t a cock. something that make its way inside you and its way longer than a toy.

➥ it’s hit your sensitive spots and goes deeper, resulting in moans escaping your lips til you can’t talk to the figure to stop, that is too much to handle it, but they don’t care. in fact, it’s get harder when their tongue enters your lips, kissing you with lust til you are breathless.

➥ this dream or nightmare always end with your orgasm and the figure looking at you with a creepy smile on their face. saying they will meet you again soon next time soon, their hands on your face to give one last kiss before waking up back to bed.

➥ it is really a dream? it’s feel so real and the way those things hold your body back then made your skin chill…but like some people say some people imagination are more powerful than others, maybe that is the case with you. not to mention, your beloved husband would make fun of you if he heard that.

➥ he finds your naivety interesting. always with a sweet smile on the lips whatever he calls you to be more touchy, to feel pleasure and of course, to make you happy. the idea that your husband suddenly change his entire personality after moving to the countryside because he prefer to be alone with you is a silly one, don’t you know that man never loved you? that he only married you for the money, not for love? you don’t need to know when he is here. a better version of that stupid man.

➥ his love for you only grown by every second he spend by your side, holding your hand during walks or just cooking together. will you love him when he reveal his true form? the one where his body is nothing but a black liquid that barely manages to hold a physical form, he knows you will love him either way. that’s why he has taking small steps to accommodate your body to accommodate to his true form.

➥ sleepless night where he is making your body getting used to his real size, using his tentacle to put your body in the most comfortable positions and sometimes seeing how much can you hold it one of it inside your hole. the human body can hold so many things! maybe you will be able to hold many of his tentacles one day, but for now, he is just doing small experiments after putting his pheromones on your drinks to make sure you are sleeping.

@moonit3 writings

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nexysworld · 7 months

Note

Can you write about fem reader trying new night gowns to surprise leon when he comes home from Spain he finds her super hot and they have sex

Hi anon! Sure can!! This was supposed to be a mini fic but turned it into a whole one shot. Ooops! Hope you like it though!

Pairing: RE4R!Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Leon lightly teases reader, no use of Y/N Word Count: 1.6k

Ask Box || Masterlist

You were always surprised by how easily your boyfriend fell in lust with you, it always seemed to be the little things you didn’t expect. This most recent time it was just a nightgown – one that had been given to you by your grandmother, well kept over the years, silky and smooth against your skin.

The long flowing sleeves hung like little puddles of pink at the ends of your arms, and the hem ended just above your knee. It was vintage and beautiful, but not something you considered particularly risqué, having only worn it due to the warmness of evening. As you finished getting ready for the night, his hands started moving on their own – exploring every curve of your body before they found a resting place on your hips.

His lips started at your shoulder, pulling the strap of fabric off gently before making his way to your neck. “Lee what are you doing, I’m brushing my teeth.” “‘M sorry baby, but you look gorgeous in this. Don’t know where you got it from, but can’t stay away.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that night since, and with Leon being away on a work mission you deemed it the perfect opportunity to see if you could surprise him with another gown. You had three to choose from. The first was a little black number with white lace on the hem. It didn't look like the picture on the website, in person it was far too much like tacky lingerie. The fabric didn't gather well, clearly made of cheaper materials than advertised. The second was another pink one, a powdered baby pink like the original - a true nightgown reaching down to the floor with a mix of fine mesh with dainty feathers attached to the hem and bell sleeves. It did look gorgeous on you, but was giving 'wife who murders her rich husband' vibes, not quite what you were going for, but you were absolutely keeping it. The last one felt perfect. Red and silken, soft against the skin and looked well made. Sure it was a little sheer on the sides, but it was far classier and well made than the black one. The soft fabric caressed your skin and clung to you, leaving little to the imagination. When you turned in front of the mirror you saw the intricate lace pattern encasing your breasts perfectly, the hem stopping at your mid thighs. All your best features were on display, and you turned to view it from all directions. It brought back the memory of the night before Leon left, the thought sent tingles directly down there and made you shudder as you remembered how Leon had pulled one strap down off your shoulder then dragged his teeth along your neck.

Closing your eyes, you relished the memory, running your hands down your own body, mimicking the way he'd done so. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn't hear the front door open, or the boots padding towards the room. What finally grabbed your attention was a drawn out whistle before the familiar sound of Leon’s voice. "Damn. What's going on here?" Leon asked, circling you.

Your heart skipped a beat as you opened your eyes to see Leon standing behind you, his eyes fixated on your body. You turned to face him, feeling a little embarrassed by his presence. "Do you like it?" you asked, shyly. He didn't reply immediately, but instead, stepped closer to you, hands grabbing at your hips to pull you closer.

His breath was hot on your neck as he whispered, "You look incredible." Hands moving up from your waist to pull you into a hug before sucking a purpled bruise into your skin. A whine left your lips as you tilted your head to give him more access. "I'm glad. I got it for you."

"For me? I'm honored baby." He pulled away long enough to run his eyes over you one more time, before taking your hand and guiding you to the bed. "Lay down." He said, gently pushing you at the chest until you were on your back. You couldn't help but notice the bulge already kicking in his pants as he stared down at you. He was on top of you in an instant - licking up your neck and nibbling on your ear. His hands found their way up your body, grasping at your breasts through your gown, giving them a light squeeze before he lowered himself to your lips, kissing you hard and starving. You could feel his erection through his jeans, straining against the zipper, but it was clear he was far more focused on you - blue eyes dilated with pure lust. "Always so pretty for me." He cooed, before running his tongue down your collar bone and over the fabric, a dark wet trail following the muscle. He swirled it over your nipple through the nightgown before sucking on it lightly, the fabric added a slight friction to it making you squirm from the tingling sensation. "Nuh uh, none of that. Baby girl got this for me, I'm going to enjoy my present, so be still."

He moved his attention to the other one mimicking the same action, sucking and lapping his tongue around it until it was perked up to his liking. "So. Fucking. Beautiful." He said, kissing along your sternum and down towards your naval between each word, before dragging his tongue along the same path again, lower and lower. He pulled one of your legs over his shoulder, giving him better access to what he was aiming for, before hiking the nightgown up just enough so he was face to face with your panties. He took a brief moment to admire the already forming wet spot before darting his tongue out to lap at you through the fabric, savoring your taste. The saliva drying in the cool air against your skin juxtaposed against the heat of his mouth on your clothed pussy was making you feel dizzy and overwhelmed with pleasure. "L-Leon, please. I need more." He didn't respond verbally, but instead chose to move his mouth down and along your thighs, nipping and kissing them as he went, drawing out every impatient noise he could get from you. He stood and unbuckled the belt of his jeans and yanked it out of the loops in one smooth motion, discarding it on the floor. You watched every movement with hungry anticipation, silently begging him to hurry up as he took his sweet time with the button and zipper, before finally pulling down his boxers enough to reveal his thick erection, precum already beading at the tip before dripping down.

"This what you need?" He asked, wrapping his hand around it and stroking up and down a few times slowly. When you only nodded, he chuffed in protest. "Use your words sweetheart." "I-I need it." "Need what?" He raised a brow, a smirk taking over his features as he continued to stroke himself slowly.

"You. I need you inside of me."

The words tumbled out of your mouth faster than you could stop them, and you blushed deep, internally cursing him for still making you feel this way after all this time together. His smirk grew, and he chuckled before leaning forward to drag the head of his length over your panties, rubbing it against your clit. "Not sure I heard you baby."

The sensation pulled a heady moan out of you, managing to get out the words. "I need your cock. Inside me." You repeated, panting and arching your hips towards his, begging him silently.

"Hmm... sounds more like a demand to me."

"Leon." You huffed petulantly.

"Yes baby?"

"Please." You begged, not caring if it sounded pathetic.

He obliged the request, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, using his freehand to guide his cock to your entrance, before sliding his cock in, in one deep thrust. He let out a relieved sigh. "There we go." His head hung back in pleasure as he stood there for a moment, enjoying the way your walls fluttered and stretched around him. The lack of movement was driving you wild, you moved your hips forward again, hoping he’d get the hint and would stop teasing you like this. He grabbed your hips to stop your movement, but before you could protest he gave another deep thrust, before he leaned over you nearly folding you in half as he set a rhythmic pace. He pumped in and out of you quickly and roughly, your hips pressing against his pelvis at every thrust. Your hands desperately wrapped around his neck as cries of his name left your mouth. It was supposed to be his present, but you were the one on cloud nine as he fucked you into the mattress.

It wasn’t long before you nearly came undone. “C-close." You whined against his neck.

"Me too sweetheart." He replied, leaning back enough onto his knees that he could rub his thumb over your clothed clit as he fucked into you.

He gave no warning as his pace quickened, the head of his cock kissing that special spot inside of you. Between that and the pressure on your clit, you were done for as he made you keel over the edge before crashing into your orgasm. Your tight walls squeezed around him as he fucked you through it, happy to chase his own high.

"Fuck!" He growled as he spurt inside of you, filling you with hot cum. He pulled out, tucking your panties back into place to catch any remaining mess. He caught his breath as he looked down at you, all fucked out and chest heaving.

"So." You said, managing to finally talk, eyes heavy as they looked up at him. "You like your present?"

He smiled, a short laugh escaping his lips. "Definitely." He leaned forward to kiss you sweetly. "Thanks baby."

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shattersstar · 1 year

Text

bound

pairing: vampire x reader

summary: He supposed this was his true home, not the house he had kept himself locked in, but the wooden box with your picture in it. Dutifully kept under his pillow, bringing you to the land of dreams with him—if he could dream. It was a bitter punishment for the life he lived, the transgression—sin—he supposed would be held against the two of you. For how he wanted you more than anything, how he would tear whole cities to shreds at your behest and let the hunters who lurked in your town meet his fangs if you so desired. It was gluttony, to take eternal life and still want more.

warning: horror-ish elements, blood mention., religious undertones (aka general vampire themes/concepts)

a/n: i have so much to say about this lil piece of writing omg okay, i wrote this back in May i believe around the time i was reading we have always lived in the castle and it Shows. its lowkey fantasy which is not like anything i write but the horror-ish vibes r pretty consistent with my original stuff. it is heavily inspired by a lot of the vampire media ive consumed too though even if its not based on one particular character. i have been thinking about it since i wrote it and while im a bit ehhh about posting something original i quite literally have nothing else to share and as i said before y’all keeping i’d still eat the fruit in my notifs is so :)))) so this is a thank you to y’all and a Step back into writing for me hopefully. ramble aside enjoy ! feedback and comments r always appreciated

—

It had rained, no—poured, stormed, hailed, cried, screamed. It had swept in during the day, white noise to him as he slept, while it greeted you during breakfast. The clouds wept over the lands in what felt like divine punishment. It was as if nature or something higher than that was against him, accosting or trying to stop him. As he stood at the edge of the great forest, rain pelting the top of his head he assumed there was nothing greater than nature. Not even him. There was nothing higher nor more humbling. God could spite someone, but nature enacted it. It flooded your sleepy town and even sleepier forest and he was on the other side. Confined to his home until the storm cleared and the sun rose.

He would not be graced with your presence yet again and he tried to ignore the call to change you, to have his fangs pierce your skin and his blood run across your tongue. He gritted his teeth, reminding himself of the hurt it brought and he would never cause that for his love. His dearest who lived on the other side of the forest he was unable to cross. His icy glare moved along the border, not even noticing the rain drenching his billowing black cloak anymore. Somewhere in the forest a branch snapped and animals chattered.

He would live for eternity, he could wait for you. It was his resolution before heading back to his home in the woods and trying not to be angry, to let fury run through his long dead veins and restart his stilled heart. If anything—anyone—could, he knew it was you.

He followed the path compacted over the years of those travelling to stare at his home, humans daring each other to go near it, but never following through when the windows shuddered and a figure moved past one of them like a ghost. Times had changed, but people were as superstitious as ever. They saw his decayed and rotted home and prescribed evil to it. It was overrun with vines, leaves would not grow on them. Even in spring. They stayed black, and gnarled, tightening their hold in his house each season. Thorns protruding from some of the thicker vines, protecting him it seemed. You had noted that, staring at his wondrous home with bright eyes.

It was in a clearing in the forest, grey stone withered away and swallowed by nature. It still stood strong, the outside a grotesque picture that did not reflect the inside. Oil lamps and lighting fixtures alike lit the space from the inside out. It warmed the walls, revealing the deep brown wood panelling that made up the older parts of the house. The stairs were still the original wood, a grand staircase that greeted no one, but him and you these days.

Many of the rooms upstairs had been closed off, sheets gently placed over the old furniture and doors closed forever. He had no need for such space, other vampires stopped visiting when hunters started lingering in your town. You had told him of your many encounters, most were smart enough to stay out the forest, but they still killed many of his kind. Finding them in their carriages amongst the cars rolling down the freshly paved roads. Horses killed along with whoever dwelled inside. They saw themselves as vigilantes, but you had told him most of your town considered them a nuisance. Urban men thinking they can save the more rural lands that bordered their great cities. Cities that forgot the magic that once thrived in places like the forest.

“Their thinking of building a highway through it, connecting us to other towns or one of the bigger cities.” You had explained one day, sitting in his lap and letting him hold you. He hummed, long fingers curling into the fabric of your sweater. You placed your warm hand over his and leaned further into his chest. He asked you to let him hold you and you had obliged like always.

He kept those memories in mind, the soft questions he would extend your way and how you listened so dutifully. May I hold you? Will you lay with me? Come walk through the cellar? Can I drink your—

His fist slammed against his dinning room table, nearly snapping it in two as a crack ran jagged through the centre of the chestnut coloured wood. His fangs were out, nails morphed into claws dug into his skin and blood dripped into the crack. He stared at it, muscles in his face twitching as he waited for it to end. Waited for the creature in him to return to laying dormant and his own clear, sound mind to return. Though he supposed it was never very clear or sound anymore, not when you had burrowed inside of him and promised to never leave. And as if his thoughts beckoned you themselves, the old telephone in his study rang. It’s shrill scream echoed through the quiet house, though the ring was discordant, snapping in two halfway through its loop and screeching a pitch higher. The noise made his pointed ears twitch and with a swoop of his cloak he was in his study. He answered it on the normal ring, cutting it off right before it went off tone.

He held the phone to his ear, but waited to speak. “Hello?” You asked, your voice soft and worried. You’d never called him before—truthfully he had no idea this phone even worked.

“Hello my love.” He returned, and you breathed out a happy sigh.

“Oh my god, hi! I found this number in some old directory—phone book thing,” You explained with an airy giddiness that he wished to share, “I wasn’t sure if it was going to work, but…” You trailed off and he was smiling fondly into the receiver.

“I have missed you.”

“I miss you too, I hate this weather I can never get through the forest when its so rainy.”

“I know.”

“Maybe they should build a highway through it, I could hitchhike my way to see you.” You laughed, but he turned somber. Industrialization finally touching the sacred land of the forest didn’t sit right within him. It may be the great divider that kept him away from you, but it was his home. A highway felt like you were asking to be swept away, to a new town or bigger city that he could not adventure too. He could ask you to stay—he knew you’d oblige—but it was not his place to keep you here. “Is your phone one of those spin, dial ones?” You asked suddenly, breaking through the tension he hadn’t meant to create.

“A rotary phone?” He corrected with a ghost of a grin, “Yes it is.”

“I want to see it when I come over again.”

“And so you will.” It was quiet again and he hadn’t noticed the tears running down his face. He didn’t know he was able to cry anymore.

“I love you.” You whispered, holding your cellphone close, likely curled up in bed and staring out your window at the rain and the forest beyond it.

“I love you dearest.” His voice did not betray the sadness building in him. “Sleep beloved, I will see you soon.”

“Yes, I’m gonna come see you and your rotary phone.” You laughed, forced and watery.

“Soon.”

“Soon.” You repeated, and hung up. He kept the black phone, laced with intricate gold details, to his ear for a moment longer. He had heard your voice at least and could sleep. He moved through his home, snuffing out candles and flicking off switches before finding the one room without windows. A coffin laid on the floor, dark brown and glistening with the finish that had been applied centuries ago.

He supposed this was his true home, not the house he had kept himself locked in, but the wooden box with your picture in it. Dutifully kept under his pillow, bringing you to the land of dreams with him—if he could dream. It was a bitter punishment for the life he lived, the transgression—sin—he supposed would be held against the two of you. For how he wanted you more than anything, how he would tear whole cities to shreds at your behest and let the hunters who lurked in your town meet his fangs if you so desired.

It was gluttony, to take eternal life and still want more.

Though it was hard to think of such evil things when looking at your face, he had taken the photo while you were on the roof. Wind had wiped your clothes into a frenzy and you laughed as the night sky twinkled behind you. He had taken it and was surprised when you’d given it to him only a few days later. He had kept up with modern technology as well as he could, but there was always something so magical about photographs to him. He collected hundreds over his life time, faces he knew and others he didn’t. Organized neatly into a collection of books, which he’d let you look through on occasion. He showed you photos from the many lives he’s lived, something about them bringing warmth rushing to your face.

He was always so devastatingly beautiful, regal and hypnotic across all eras. Yet, he couldn’t focus on the kind words that bubbled from your lips as the rushing of the blood under your skin nearly shattered something inside of him. His fangs threatened to meet your skin, but with calculated focus he reigned in his hunger. It was hard at first—you were the only human he had been around in decades—but he did it for love.

Everything he did was for love, it was his reason for existence it seemed. You had other reasons for your claim to life, but to him? You were all he had, the only reason to not let the sun engulf him or let a hunter kill him. He could not break your heart until you broke his. He let that thought dwell in his mind as sleep overtook him just as the sun rose and the rain ended. Its incessant pitter patter had ceased and he somehow dreamt of you standing golden in the forest and beckoning him closer.

He woke up to your face—maybe it wasn’t a dream—as you crouched next to his coffin. Maybe he had finally died and you were welcoming him to where God decided to send him. If you were there it couldn’t be hell. Could it be?

“My love—“ Your hand pressed to his chest, keeping him still. “It’s still daytime, sleep okay?” You whispered, hand moving to his jaw and cradling his face in your palm for a moment. “I’ll be back in a sec okay, I just need to change.” He nodded against you, kissing your hand before you let him reside in darkness. He had caught a glimpse of your pants caked in mud and could smell the blood from your skinned palms. Despite the slick terrain it seemed you ventured through the forest to see him. It made his chest shudder and for a moment he thought you had actually restarted his heart.

It was only a few minutes later when you were carefully opening his coffin again, now dawning a loose fitting silk shirt that made his red eyes alight with something wild. You had cleaned your scrapes and mud off your skin, smelling faintly of rain water and the lavender soap you gifted him. You stepped over him, nestling against his side and letting him enclose the two of you. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulders as your head rested on his chest, knuckles grazing over your hair while you stretched an arm across his torso. Your legs intertwined with his long ones and you let out a breathy sigh.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, and while you likely couldn’t see as thing, he could see you perfectly. You shook your head no against his chest, yawning into the fabric of his shirt.

“I just wanted to see you.” You murmured, chin resting in his chest as you made hit best attempt at eye contact in the blackness. “I saw the dining room table, are you okay?” You asked, somehow staring through him in the darkness. He offered his hand instead of finding the words in his throat, slowly unravelling his fist to reveal a mark free palm. He wasn’t sure you understand what he meant or if your eyes adjusted enough yet, until you carefully closed it once again, kissing his knuckles and placed your hand over his. You both were silent for a moment, until you looked up at him again and breathed, “You’re all I want.”

“And you’re all I have.” He held you closer, watching a grin pull at the corner of your lips. He was sure it was that devotion, obsession even, with you that would bring about his downfall. Centuries old and all powerful, but reduced to nothing without you. His strength and knowledge meant nothing if he didn’t have you to share it with.

And you could not stand your stagnant life in a town full of people who wished his kind dead. You chose a trek through the forest during the twilight hours of the morning to see him, bringing him soft kisses and silk under his hands as you let your mouth meet his. You kissed him with all the exhaustion and lethargy wrapped up in the two of you, molasses slow kisses that were just as sweet. It was how you fell asleep, lips to his neck and head tucked under his chin before your warm breathed puffed across his pale skin. He fell asleep not long after, engulfing you in his embrace, his cloak draping over your frame as he decided home was where you asked him to be.

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bettyfrommars · 6 months

Text

The Nightmare Factory

an Eddie Munson x Reader series

The Fabric of Moonbeams

Masterlist

18+Only for mature themes, mention of sleep disorders and sleeping medication, longing, afab!reader, astral travel, horror icons. wc: 4.2.

a/n: there are some mind-bending moments in here, along with typical nightmare!eddie silliness. I initially thought I'd just write a very simple blurb series about the different ways Eddie appeared to reader to try and scare them. Now that this romance is starting to flesh out, I feel like we have much more to explore, so this will not end on Halloween, as I had originally planned. I have a very cool apocalyptic dream planned for the next chapter, where reader and Eddie spend a few days together (enemies to lovers because reader does not recognize him at first), but I wanted this to be something fun for spooky season.

Eddie got demoted to Ominous Thuds & Ghostly Whispers status after the whole Headless Horseman debacle. Not because Steve or Saul narced on him, but because the eye in the nightmare sky sees everything.

He tried tapping the morse code that Wayne taught him on your bedroom wall one night, but only succeeded in making you sleep upright in the chair in your living room with all of the lights on. You had dark circles under your eyes the next day, and almost dozed off at your keyboard.

You spent a lot of time looking at the sketch you had done of him, and the description of the headless horseman dream that you remembered with fascinating clarity. You could close your eyes and smell the soap and leather of his skin now, and you could see the way his mouth moved when he spoke to you. He knew your name, and you felt like you knew him.

You found a book at the library called, “My boyfriend, My Nightmare” about a woman who believed she was in a relationship with a man in her dreams for years. No one believed her, of course, and she was diagnosed with a particular type of rare disorder that had her on such heavy sleeping medication that it was impossible to remember her dreams, if she even had them at all.

You sank down on a soft chair and almost read the entire thing in one sitting. According to this woman, there is a place called The Nightmare Factory where your nightmares punch a clock and take lunch breaks together and collect a paycheck. Apparently, it sits on a separate plane of existence, and you go there when you sleep. Nightmares can exist during waking hours as well, the author said, and you sat up straight to read that paragraph.

“The membrane that keeps our worlds apart begins to dissolve when you are able to perceive the nightmares, when you begin to understand that there is no true distinction between reality and dreams.”

“If you can imagine it, it exists somewhere in possibility,” the author continued. “The Nightmare Factory workers are a form of entertainment to save us from the true horrors of human existence.”

What ever happened to the woman? Did she ever get to be with the man she fell in love with in her nightmares? You skipped to the last chapter, and skimmed a few pages until you found what you were looking for.

Her final words were very vague, but she admitted to going off of her prescribed sleeping medication, which made her have insomnia for a week, but then she started to dream again.

“I know that no one will believe me, and that’s fine, I did not write this to convince anyone. I’m having it published through a private company to help those who might find themselves in a similar situation.

By the time you read this, I will be gone.

The physical particles of my body have a hard time assimilating when I return from dreams now, and one day soon, I will stay there with him and not return through the secret door. I’m not sure if I will ever be able to get back to this astral plane as anything more than a visitor, so please, if you are able to cross over, find me.”

You checked the clock on the wall, knowing you should head home, and then you found a few more books to take with you. One was a manual on how to decipher your dreams, and the other was another memoir, though not as detailed, that someone had written about moving through the dream world with your physical body.

That’s impossible, you mused to yourself.

But still, some strange blossom of hope in your gut moved you to tuck it under your arm.

Meanwhile, Eddie flirted his way into the 7am Unexplained Voices & Creaking Stairs class by offering to service the teacher’s car for free. She was a ghostly apparition who wore glasses and a pair of gloves to give students a hint to her presence. She finally accepted after some hesitation, knowing full well that there was a waitlist.

Anyway, her ghostmobile was not only serviced, but detailed, and there Eddie was, in the front row, bouncing his knee, eager to learn anything and everything he could.

His band played a show at the Hideout that night. The Hideout in Eddie’s dimension was a place where a lot of Nightmare Factory workers went after their shifts, so it often looked like the bar scene from Star Wars, but with ghouls. The factory was the biggest employer for a thirty mile radius, and everyone who grew up in Hawkinsville had worked there at least once in their life.

It had been difficult when Eddie and Wayne first moved there when he was young. Eddie was what they called “a normie”, meaning he was not born into the nightmare life. He hadn’t been raised by evil clowns or wolves or demons who walked on goat legs. He’d picked up shapeshifting pretty fast though, and he’d learned to make his eyes go completely black whenever he wanted to by the time he was ten.

There were more than four drunks at the place that night, Eddie counted at least six, and then there were a few normies at a table, but he didn’t recognize them. The bartender had a beer ready for him and slid it to the end of the bar before giving him a “thumbs up” motion. Corroded Coffin did not get paid by the venue to play on Tuesday nights, so the beer was always on the house. They had a tip jar at the edge of the stage that usually only had a couple bucks in it by the end of the evening, or a sprinkle of loose change.

They were halfway through the set when Eddie looked out into the crowd and saw you.

He blinked hard, squeezing his eyes shut for a beat, but when he opened them again, he saw that it was really you—standing there, staring back at him, plain as day.

Sure, the room was dark and filled with smoke, but there seemed to be some type of luminescence around you.

Eddie cleared his throat into the mic and wiped his hair off his sweaty forehead, waiting to make sure to make sure you weren’t a mirage for the thirsty man that he was. Some shrill feedback sounded through the speakers, and he mumbled an apology to the crowd.

You lifted your hand up slowly to wave at him, and you mouthed a little, “hi,” as a smile twitched across your lips.

But this time, it was Eddie who woke up.

He was back in his own bed, gasping for air, wanting to cry, wanting to return, needing to know how you had made it into his dream.

You were looking for him now. Somewhere, behind the scenes of time and space, an invisible membrane was getting thinner.

—------

“Are you coming or what?” Your friend Ellie turned to see that you had stopped short at the entrance to the Haunted House attraction you were about to enter. You’d already paid, and had your hand stamped, but all of a sudden you wanted to be back in your bed, reading.

You loved Halloween, but you weren’t a huge fan of jump scares, unless they were coming from that guy you kept dreaming about, the one named Eddie.

You wrote his name down in cursive and blocked letters all over the inside of your notebook, wanting to press it into the wrinkles of your brain. It had been weeks since you last saw him, and every night you hit the pillow, you were hopeful.

“I’m coming,” you jogged a bit to catch up, listening to the evil, mechanical cackling and high-pitched screams coming from inside.

You caught up to her and stayed close. There were strobe lights inside and menacing figures loomed in the narrow hallway before you turned a corner into a dining room full of people with decapitated heads. A few scare actors jumped out to lurch at you from dark corners while thunderous organ music played.

After the next room, there was a shuffle of people as one of the animatronic spiders dropped down from the ceiling, and one of the scare actors with a pig mask blocked your path right when the hallway split, so you lost Ellie, and all of a sudden, you were alone.

You spun in a circle and called Ellie’s name.

Surely you’d still be able to hear the sounds from the haunt? But everything was quiet, the crowd was gone, and the noises from earlier were muffled, as if coming from far away.

Panic rose in your throat as you felt along the wall for a light switch or a door. You stumbled around a black, velvet curtain and caught sight of the glowing EXIT sign with a rush of relief.

“Ellie? Anybody?” You eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the inky darkness, but the illumination from the sign gave you hope

This was fine, you’d wait for the other’s outside and tell them you had to duck out because you weren’t feeling well, which was not a complete lie.

Beyond the door were aged, wooden stairs that went down. A single light bulb dangled from the ceiling to offer a weak, ocre glow. You didn’t remember climbing stairs to get into the building, but you must’ve been mistaken.

You hurried down the steps, hearing the door slam shut behind you with unexpected force, enough to shake the walls.

Something didn’t feel right; the further you went down on the creaking steps, the darker and danker it seemed to get. There was a sudden heat emanating and you could make out some soft rattling and hissing sounds.

By the time you realized you’d gone down into a sealed basement, it was too late.

It wasn’t just a basement, though—it was a…boiler room?

There were metal tanks producing steam mounted with temperature gauges, and you couldn’t see to the other side of the space because they were massive.

“Hello?” You took a tentative step forward, looking around the concrete walls for some type of door to get out of the building. Your heart was in your throat, and your breathing was getting rapid as your eyes jerked from side to side like a scared rabbit.

You wrapped your arms around yourself. “Can anyone hear me? I got turned around and I’d like to leave now.”

There came a high pitched scraping then, like nails on a chalkboard, and it was so shrill, you had to cover your ears.

“I can hear you just fine,” a deep, gravely voice chuckled from somewhere to your right.

Your attention snapped in that direction. Instinct was telling you to start backing up, to get further away, to go bolt up the stairs, but that’s not what you did—you just froze there.

It wasn’t long before you spotted a pair of glowing eyes peering at you from between two of the pipes, against the far wall.

There was a person standing there.

It had to be one of the scare actors, down there on their break, or maybe this was a part of the haunt? But where was everyone else? And why was there a huge, poorly lit boiler room in the basement of that old house?

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he spoke in an evil sneer, like a villain in a cartoon.

“This isn’t funny,” you shouted. “I just want to get out of here, please.”

He gave another diabolical cackle, and then there was the sound of nails on a chalkboard again.

The man in the basement with you stepped into view with a flourish, brandishing the long, metal daggers on his hand, flexing each finger for you to see each one individually; the tips were sharp and the blades caught the light. He had on an old, brown fedora, a green and red sweater, and his skin was covered in scar tissue from severe burns.

You were down in that boiler room with Freddy Krueger.

The scream you let out as he charged toward you might’ve cracked fissures in the concrete.

You spun on your heel—

—and landed face first into the body of the person that had been standing behind you. You felt the ragged, torn nature of a shirt under your cheek as whoever it was had enormous height, and then you pushed back and looked up in time to see a hockey mask with black eyes staring down at you, expressionless. His shoulders were broad and his body massive. Out to the side, he brandished a gleaming machete that was the length of your arm.

“Hi baby, get behind me!” The person in the Jason Voorhees mask said, sounding slightly echoed and muffled. The look he had was the same as in the movies, but this one had curly, almost frizzy dark hair that was long past his shoulders.

That voice…it was Eddie.

It was your Eddie.

You stammered a partial question, but then you were already moving, letting his arm guide you around so that his body acted as a shield from Freddy who was cackling and swiping his finger knives around; you could hear the sharp whistle of air against the metal.

You held on to the hips of Voorhees Eddie from behind and peeked under his raised arm to look at Freddy. This Eddie in front of you was tall and massive, much more so than you remembered from the last dream you had.

“What the hell are you doing here, maggot?” The Freddy Krueger guy growled, saliva dripping from his yellow teeth as his pocked skin stretched over his cheeks like curdled milk.

“Don’t worry about it, Jerry,” Eddie growled with disdain, throwing his machete into the other hand with deft precision. It twirled in the air and he caught it by the handle. “This one is mine.”

“Oh, really?” The guy who looked like Freddy suddenly had a normal voice again, and his shoulders relaxed, dropping his hands to his sides. “I didn’t know, wow man, I’m sorry. Did I get the schedules mixed up?”

Voorhees Eddie relaxed too, dropping his free hand down to hold your hip, making sure you were still there. “No, you’re good,” Eddie’s voice was light now, soft, even. “I’m just filling in for Alex, he’s on vacation for a few days.”

“Paid leave?” Freddy/Jerry asked. You were trying to match his face with the voice coming out, but it wasn’t working.

“I think so,” Eddie nodded once.

“Must be nice to have seniority,” Jerry put his knives hand on his hip and scratched under his hat with the other. “Okay well, I’m going to head over to the next job. See ya, Munson.”

And with that, a black space the size of a door opened behind Jerry and he stepped through it. The door disappeared, and so did he.

“Eddie?” You said his name over the hiss of the boilers as he turned to you. You could see the realistically gray, rotting flesh of his Voorhees skin under his mask. “What are you doing in a boiler room looking like Jason Voorhees?”

“Workin’,” he smiled and dropped the machete to the concrete with a clang to be able to snake his arms around you so that his fingers clasped at your lower back. “I’ve been missing you.”

His new height was throwing you off as you tilted your head back to look up at him.

“I recognized your voice this time,” you smiled, proud of yourself.

He lowered his head to touch the mask to your forehead. “I didn’t mean to disappear on you. It took me a while to be able to have physical form again, to be able to see you like this.”

“It’s okay, I know,” you slid your hands up the torn clothing over his broad chest.

“You know?” He pulled back, searching your face.

“I’ve been reading this book, about where you work,” you wet your lips. “That Nightmare Factory place. I’ve been trying to figure out…how to see you more often.”

Eddie’s heart jumped. He put his hand over yours on his chest and held it there, and you could see that even as Jason Voorhees, he still wore his signature metal rings. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course,” you got a bit bashful and looked down. “I want to…get to know you better.”

“I saw you the other night in my dream,” he rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand.

You stared up into his eye sockets of his mask, and your face lit up. “That was cool, wasn’t it? I couldn’t believe I found you. There is a sort of meditation in the book that I did about a thousand times, and it was only for a second. I think it’s a type of astral projection. You looked really good on stage.”

Eddie tucked his chin almost bashfully, moving his hand to interlace his fingers with yours. “You thought I looked good?”

Eddie had been learning too. Learning new skills to come to you in your nightmares, but also learning about a rare case where a nightmare worker crossed into your dimension and stayed there. They were never heard from again, and some say they didn’t survive the crossover and their particles exploded into the ether, but Eddie chose to believe that was a lie to keep people from trying.

Suddenly, there was a banging sound, muffled and far away, but you could feel it thudding in your chest. You checked around the room, thinking it was noise from one of the pipes, but Eddie dropped your hand and squeezed your arm, checking his digital wrist watch with a sigh like he usually did when he was about to make his exit.

Back at the factory, someone was banging their fist against the transportation door, shouting for Eddie. He tightened the muscles in his jaw, frustrated that there never seemed to be enough time. It sounded a whole lot like Kevin.

He had to figure something out soon, before his heart exploded.

“Are you in trouble again?” Now that you knew a bit more about what he did, you feared he might get penalized, and you wouldn’t lay eyes on him for another month. The pounding continued intermittedly, and you faintly heard someone call out Eddie’s name.

“No, not this time, sweetheart,” Eddie stretched, puffing his chest out a bit, and then bent forward to put the mouth of the mask on your forehead. You could feel his warm breath on your skin there. “But my shift is over. I have to get back before my timer goes off.”

“Before your timer goes off? Sounds like you’re in a microwave.”

“Well,” he tipped his head to the side, thoughtfully. “The technology is similar, I suppose, but yeah, I hate to leave you like this.”

You hugged Eddie Voorhees as hard as you could and spoke into his chest. “Maybe next time, I’ll find you first.”

The distant banging got louder, more persistent.

He bent down to grab the machete, pushed a button on his watch, and the same square, black opening in the air appeared.

There was a second there when you considered just running and jumping through his door, but then you remembered a part in the book when it mentioned how that type of jarring dimensional travel could give Dreamers what scuba divers called “the bends” from the dramatic change in pressure.

You were about to tell him you’d miss him, or goodbye, or something else, but then, in a blink, you were jolted back to your senses—

—you were back in the hallway of the haunt right after the spider had dropped from the ceiling.

Wait a minute. How had that happened?

You were at a dead halt, stopping the flow of people traffic as you looked down at your hands and over at Ellie who had turned around to motion you to keep moving as another scare actor dressed like a deranged doctor covered in blood jumped from the corner.

When you got home, you rushed to your desk to open the book, and flipped to the chapter called “The fabric of moonbeams”. It talked about “dream pockets” that occurred like daydreams when you were linked to someone. The author didn’t know exactly how to explain it, but she suspected it had something to do with sudden surges of adrenaline that caused a dimensional shift, especially if you had a connection to someone at the factory.

You sketched out Eddie again that night, this time, it was what you remembered from when you’d visited him for a few seconds at The Hideout. Flanked by his bandmates, he was strumming the strings on his guitar, looking down with one knee bent out and his hair hanging down.

You wanted to recapture the scene as realistically as possible so that you could study it to prepare for the next time you tried to visit him. Next time, maybe you'd step into his world and not his dream.

Maybe next time, he’d kiss you again.

----

Happy Halloween weekend to all of you who are enjoying this series, thank you for reading 🧡

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson series #The Nightmare Factory #nightmare!eddie #Halloween fic #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie x afab reader #Eddie munson x reader

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 11 months

Note

Here's something that's been cooking in my head for a while. So there's a lot of fics where Marc and the reader will have a argument and then Marc will sort of shut out and just leave Steven and Jake to be out as a means to avoid reader, and some have it that while that's happening Steven and Jake then just spoil reader with affection and stuff and then there's some point where Marc just comes out and they talk it out. But hear me out on this one and even feel free to run and do your own things with it-

So let's say that that's a common scenario that happens and that Marc and reader are arguing about something and at some point things boil over a little and they do a whole "Fine! "Fine!" sort of thing. Reader walks away to cool off and maybe go back to the issue later when both of them are more calm but then Marc goes "I guess this is the part where you sit somewhere and wait for Steven and Jake to spoil you rotten!".

And now there's an even bigger problem because now Marc is bringing Steven and Jake into this and that pisses them off and there's a whole argument between them because Jake and Steven are saying that they wouldn't have to if Marc would just man up and not turn every issue brought up into an argument. And Marc is saying that it wouldn't be such a big deal if they just let him sulk and solve it himself without them swooping in and overhearing/seeing them basically fawning over reader. And reader is even more upset because it's somewhat true but because you're still made they want to prove him wrong.

You can continue from here or just leave it. Just thought you'd like to hear it at least

Thank you so much for this ask! It has been fermenting in my mind for days now. I hope I've done it justice ❤️

Spoiled Rotten

Marc Spector X GN!Reader Rating: T Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: arguements (subject matter is not specified), hurt and comfort (heavy on the comfort), typos, rail road sentences Please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 1496

_______________________________________

“No that’s not what I said, you’re not listen-”

“You’re just repeating what you said over and ov-”

“I wouldn’t have to repeat it if you would just li-”

“It’s not even relevant to this, you’re changing the sub-”

“I’m changing the subject? What do you think you’re doi-”

“Stop talking over me!”

You both glare at each other, rage boiling over like an overfilled pan.

Your breathing hard, your lips forced together, just waiting for him to say something so you can both go at each other again.

You could strangle him, the way he sneered a little as he spoke, that little mocking tone he used specifically for you, the fact that he would never, ever, ever back down.

Your breathing calmed a little as he stayed quiet, good. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, a few rouge curls had escaped his carefully slicked back hair, breaking his illusion of being oh-so perfect.

Oh, I’m Marc Spector and I never do anything wrong.

You loved him, of course you did, and if anyone ever laid a finger on him you’d gouge their eyes out, but good god if that man didn’t know how to get perfectly under your skin.

He stayed quiet, scowling at you.

With a deep breath you looked away from him and walked into the kitchen. There was no reason to stay in his presence if he was going to be like this, trying to bait you into talking first like a child. (As if you hadn’t been trying to do the exact same thing to him.)

You thought about making a comment, saying something like ‘oh, the silent treatment, Marc? Real original.’ But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. And you knew how childish it would sound.

You stopped in front of the kitchen counter and sighed. Cliché as it was, you couldn’t remember what you had first started arguing about. Or why it even mattered.

Maybe if you just took a few minutes to cool off and-

Marc’s distinct footsteps sounded as he came into the kitchen. “So, I guess this is the part where you sit somewhere and wait for Steven and Jake to spoil you rotten!" His voice was somewhere between normal and shouting, raising in volume even more at the end.

He had been trying, and promptly failed, to sound collected.

You turned, anger rising in your chest and throat, “what?”

“It’s always the same-”

“It is not always the same-”

“We have an argument, you go off and sulk and then,”

“I sulk?” You gestured to yourself, “I’m the one that goes off and sulks?”

“And, then, Steven or Jake front and it’s all ‘oh what has that horrible Marc done to you now.’” His eyes flicked to the side the second the words left his mouth, the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching hard.

You recognised the movement instantly. Steven or Jake, or possibly both, were saying something.

Heat rises to your cheeks. “That’s not what happens.”

He glances back to you, the smallest twitch is his forehead telling you that Steven and Jake must still be talking. “Liar.”

You clamp your teeth shut, trying to stop yourself from saying something you know you’ll regret.

He was right though, and you hated it. Why did this insufferable man always have to be right?

You and Marc argued the most.

Jake didn’t shout, he didn’t like that kind of confrontation. He would go quiet and listen to you when you were angry. For anyone else his silence would have made it worse, but there was something about his expression. How he just folded back, bleeding emotion out of himself until he seemed monochrome against your rage. It never failed to refuse you. You’d both end up talking calmly about your disagreements.

Steven was the king of sarcasm, and passive aggression when he wanted to be. But when an argument with you was getting too far he would just call a timeout and let you both go your separate ways to calm down.

On the whole, very rarely did any of you argue, and when you did it was usually about something silly.

And as you’d been together longer, disagreements with Jake and Steven had lessened to almost nonexistence. While arguments with Marc had stayed the same.

It always followed a similar pattern: you and Marc would shout at each other and then Jake or Steven or both would come and make it better with hugs and kisses and soft words.

“Well it’s not going to happen this time.” Marc snarled.

You looked back at him, realising you had been lost in your thoughts.

“You're stuck with horrible me.”

He was goading you, trying to get you to shout at him again. Needing you to yell, to express your anger. He could deal with that, could fight against it.

You stayed quiet.

“Gonna give me the silent treatment? Because I’m not good enough for you? That’s real original.”

You almost laughed then, but just managed to stop yourself. There was no way that could help in this situation. Your shoulders slumped slightly. The problem was, you were both too similar.

“Sit down.” You spoke softly, and gestured to the kitchen table before walking over to the coffee machine. Marc was the only one who really used it for the fancy milky coffees he still pretended he didn’t adore.

“What?” He snapped, watching you move. He took a step towards you, his hands flexing in irritation as he saw you switch the coffee machine on.

You turned fully to look at him, “sit down,” your voice sounded calm and kind, even though you were still fighting with your own exasperation inside. “Or stand, whatever you want.”

You expected him to snap back with another dig. But to your surprise he swallowed, a small bob of his throat, and sat down on the chair closest to you.

He didn’t take his eyes off you while you made a coffee, the crease in his forehead deepening as he assumed you were going to drink it right in front of him.

Instead you heard the little breath he exhaled when you placed the cup on the table directly to his right.

Marc stared at it for a second, dumbfounded. He was so caught up in staring at the coffee that he didn’t hear you step back and open the cupboard, only realising that time had passed when you set a small plate with choco leibniz milk biscuits in front of him.

“Those are Jake’s.” He whispered.

“I bought them for everyone.” You leave out, ‘except Steven’ as that was a given due to the milk.

The biscuits were, however, a favourite of Jakes. And he did have a tendency to eat them all before anyone else got a chance.

Marc pressed his lips together into a tight line.

You didn’t want for him to say anything else as you walked into the living room and turned on the television. You spend a few minutes searching through the listings until you found something that matched your criteria. Marc had a soft spot for westerns.

You clicked on The Searchers and pressed play before grabbing the heavy, fluffy blanket out of the airing cupboard and laying it out on the settee.

When you came back into the kitchen Marc was chewing on a biscuit. He looked up at you as you entered and for a moment seemed much younger than his years.

“Come on,” you spoke softly, lifting the plate and cup from the table.

Marc didn’t question you and followed you into the living room one step behind.

You gestured to the settee after you put the biscuits and coffee on the table, raising the blanket for Marc to sit. He did, slowly, as if he was waiting for something awful to jump out at him.

You sat next to him, pulling the blanket over you both. You left a ‘sensible’ space between you. Not wanting to be too far or too close, and upsetting him with the extreme.

He stared at you, not even glancing at the television. “What are you doing?” He whispered. His expression was nervous, pained, and it chased away the residual anger in your chest.

“Spoiling you rotten.” You said quietly, The Searchers opening music nearly drowning your words out.

Slowly, you lifted your arm to the back of the settee, leaving an open invitation for physical touch.

To your surprise he moved instantly, burying himself into your side and laying his head against your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you tight.

You smiled and kissed the top of his head as you hugged him back.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into your chest, his breath hot against your skin.

“Me too.” You kissed his head again as you both relaxed into each other's embrace and settled down to watch the film.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @welcometostayingawake @mbakubabe @solobagginses @melodygatesauthor @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#marc spector #moon knight #moon knight mcu #marc spector x reader #x reader #marc spector x you #x you #marc spector x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #marc spector x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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themidnightcrimson · 1 year

Text

Cumslut. | w. maximoff

summary: in which a cozy night in bed turns into wanda turning you into her needy cumslut.

warnings: top!wanda, cumstrap (r receiving), magically enhanced strap, breeding kink, cum kink, size kink, teasing, jealousy, kissing, breast play, grey sweatpants + strap = horknee, i need wanda to turn me into her personal toaster strudle rn, petition to be wanda's twinkie

this post is for 18+ only. minors: do not interact.

masterlist.

The movie was only halfway over when your phone that was sat on the nightstand lit up in your dark bedroom. Glancing over at the nightstand, you slid out of Wanda’s arms to reach past the now empty popcorn bowl and grab your phone.

As you leaned back into Wanda’s arm, which was slung across your pillow behind you, you could feel jade eyes staring past your shoulder as you checked the text message you had received from Nat.

Wanna come over? Maria brought drinks ;)

You and Wanda had spent the night cuddled up in bed watching movies, which was your usual nighttime routine on the weekends. While you sometimes felt left out as your friends went out and drank and partied without you, you cherished every cozy moment with Wanda—her arm cradling your back, your legs tangled together under the warm, fluffy blanket she had draped over the two of you.

Feeling a hand squeeze your waist, you looked up to your redhead girlfriend. As the light from the TV illuminated her beautiful face that was close to yours, she gave you a sort of knowing look. “I thought we were staying in tonight,” her smooth voice said in a quiet, indiscernible tone. Her fingers were digging into your waist, and you knew it wasn’t to purposefully intimidate you but rather because Wanda was not fond of changing plans, especially when the original plan was for you to be with her for the night.

You glanced back at the text message and weighed the decision of how to reply. Before you could even text Nat and tell her you couldn’t come, your phone screen suddenly went black in your hands. Surprised, you looked to Wanda and caught a discreet red glow slipping from her irises and a tiny smirk tugging at her lips.

“I was going to say no,” you reprimanded her for locking your phone, tilting your head at her with a playful smile.

Suddenly, Wanda shifted under your shared blanket, turning to her side to dig her knees between yours, forcing your legs open before she was suddenly hovering over you, which caused the blanket to lift and let in colder air that made you shiver. You let your head lay back on the pillow as Wanda gently took the phone from your hands and placed it face-down on the nightstand, the ends of her soft hair tickling your neck as you stared up at her eyes, darkened by the low light of the room.

“I don’t like how they try to pull you away from me,” Wanda mumbled as her hands slid down your body, grabbing at your waist. “Is it so bad to want you all to myself?”

You felt a blossom of warmth flutter over your face at her words. While it was true that you missed your friends sometimes, the way Wanda desperately wanted every minute of your time and every ounce of your attention was, truthfully, endearing.

“I think you need to learn to share,” you teased her, bringing your hand to her cheek and cupping it. She leaned into your touch, her eyebrows deviously lowering in reaction to your comment that tantalized her.

“I don’t like sharing you with others,” she argued, a rasp in her voice as her cheek grazed past your face to nuzzle into your neck. She rubbed her nose against your skin, moving your hair out of the way before you felt her cupid lips press a soft kiss on your perfumed skin. Your eyelids fell closed as you felt your girlfriend give you kisses that weighed like feathers on your skin. She devoted several moments to each singular kiss, truly taking her time in buttering you up so you wouldn’t be angry at her for being possessive.

As your hands slipped under her large t-shirt to slide up the bare expanse of her back, you could feel how tense her muscles were at first until they melted under the trail of your touch. Wanda sighed into your neck, the warm air tickling your skin. “You know that I’m all yours,” you whispered, turning your lips to her ear so she could hear you clearly.

Wanda hummed, her hands on your waist tightening. You knew how much she loved it when you said that. She loved when you assured her that you belonged to her—your mind, your heart, and your body. Wanda was a fiercely possessive woman, and tending to her territorial fire was pleasing to the both of you.

Still, she liked to test you as much as you liked to test her. “Prove it,” she mumbled against your ear, punctuating her sentence with a sloppy bite to your jaw. Your body arched when you felt her teeth scrape your jaw, fingers pressing into her lower back.

“Prove it for me,” you countered before you raised your knees to lock around her hips, ankles hooking at her back and poking through the blanket which threatened to fall and reveal your bodies beneath it. You bucked your hips upwards and felt exactly what you assumed was already there—the bulge of her strap through her pants. When you rubbed your crotch against her, you grinned in delight as Wanda groaned and pressed her bulge hard into you, her hands now bruising your waist.

“Are you sure you can handle that?” Wanda asked, coming up from your neck to smirk at you. She tilted her head, eyes twinkling with lust as her teeth pierced her lower lip.

You smiled and grabbed her face as you kept grinding yourself against her crotch, watching the way her lip turned whiter as she bit harder into it. You knew she’d enhanced the strap so that she could feel every bit of it as she swelled against you.

“What?” you asked, feigning innocence, “That I can handle your big cock in my tight pussy?”

Her hands swiftly moved to the hem of your pants and grabbed hard at them. “Stop it, or I will fuck you right now,” she husked, rolling her hips hard into you, the friction against your clit causing you to gasp.

“That’s exactly what I want,” you whispered, letting your fingers comb into her locks of hair. Wanda’s lips twitched in a smirk before she smashed them against yours in a bruising kiss. Your breaths collided against each other as she devoured your lips sloppily, her tongue slipping through your open mouth and settling across your own. She groaned at the taste of you as her tongue fought with your own, and when she finally pulled away to breathe, you could feel her saliva coating your lips. Pressure filled your lips as they started to swell from the force of the kiss, and heat seeped through your entire face.

Wanda grabbed at your shirt and tugged it as she panted. “I want this off.”

“Then take it off,” you bit back with a grin, to which Wanda gave a warning look before tearing the shirt over your head. You weren’t expecting her to instantly reconnect the kiss as her hands grabbed at your tits.

You gasped against Wanda’s lips as her fingers pinched at your nipples before rubbing them, the action causing your panties to moisten. She kept pressing her strap hard against you, and you were starting to grow frustrated at the barrier of clothing between you.

Slipping your hands from her hair to her hips, you pulled at the string of her sweatpants and felt it fall undone against your lower stomach. As you started trying to push her pants down, Wanda helped by reluctantly moving her hands away from where they were enjoying your hardened nipples to pull her sweatpants down. As she tugged her ankles out of the pants, you took the opportunity to pull her shirt over her head.

Her breasts bounced when the shirt squeezed over them and then released them, and your hands instinctively grabbed them as Wanda smirked at you. Your eyes fell down to her large maroon strap where the tip was already glistening. The sight of it made your mouth water, and you reached down to grab it, stroking the shaft and watching the way Wanda’s eyes fluttered closed at the feeling. When her eyes opened again, they were three times darker, and she snatched your hand away and pressed it above your head, leaning down closer to you to give you another searing kiss that left your lips wet.

“Wanda,” you groaned, the itch between your legs growing too fierce. You ached for your thighs to be freed from your pants, and Wanda was eager to help, ripping your pants off your legs as the blanket finally fell off her and landed in a pile on the bed.

“Fuck,” Wanda breathed when she spread your thighs between her hips and saw the wet patch that had accumulated on your thin panties. She brought her fingers to the spot and rubbed it, the almost direct touch causing you to squirm.

“Please,” you begged, grabbing at the sheets. Wanda had riled you up so much that you were desperate for her to quell the fire between your legs, desperate for her to ruin you and claim you as hers. You both had forgotten about the TV still on in the background, and it remained outside of your focus as Wanda gently tugged your panties off.

“Holy shit, baby,” Wanda gasped when she saw just how wet you were, groaning when she cupped your pussy and let her fingers swim in your folds. You could even hear how wet you were as she spread your lips apart, the sound causing your cheeks to flush bright red.

Wanda’s fingers went to your clit and massaged it in slow circles, her eyes darkly watching the way your pink, swollen mouth fell open in pleasure. Her other hand went to her cock to stroke it, only adding to your flames of desire as she touched herself.

“Wanda, please,” you begged, her fingers on your clit not adding relief but rather tightening the pressured need within you. You desperately needed her inside you, your walls tensing and hole aching for her.

Wanda loved the way she had shaved you down from being a tease to being so needy for her. When you tried to close your thighs around her hand, she pushed them back open again and hooked them around her hips. “Please what, baby?” she teased as she scooted closer between your legs and rested her cock on your mound.

Whining, you bucked your hips upwards in search for her cock, but her hand on your hipbones pressed you flat against the bed. “Please, fuck me,” you whined, reaching out to grab at her shoulders.

Wanda was also getting antsy with the way you were squirming and whining for her, your pussy visibly getting wetter by the second. You almost cried in relief when she lowered her cock to between your legs but let out a frustrated moan when she started to rub her length up your slit. Wanda groaned loudly at the feeling, fingernails digging into your hipbones as she fucked herself between your folds but refrained from going inside you.

“Wanda, please—inside,” you ordered, tugging at her hair.

“Inside?” she mocked, and suddenly you felt the tip of her cock slip inside you, burying herself halfway in. “Like this?” You let out a guttural moan, your walls already trying to suck her in deeper as you relished in the incredibly brief relief before she quickly pulled back out. “Not yet, babygirl.”

You were close to crying when she went back to sliding her cock between your wet folds, your hands grabbing desperately at her arms as you tried to make out the words to beg her to go inside but failed to string them together. Wanda took your hands away from her and held them at your sides as she thrust her hips gently, panting at the feeling of your soft folds wetting her cock.

“Be a good girl and let me cum first,” she breathed huskily. While the thought of letting her use you to cum first made you melt inside, you were so desperate for her.

Her tip repeatedly pushed against your clit, bringing you a mixture of pleasure and painful need. You even tried bucking your hips, but Wanda pressed them down again, forcing you to stay still as she watched the way her cock would disappear deep in your folds before the tip appeared again right above your clit. Her length was entirely wettened now, along with the sheets below as your wetness dripped into a puddle on them. The sounds that your pussy made as she tortured it were sinful to you, but they were music to Wanda’s ears. Her thrusts were getting sloppier as her breathing grew heavier, and you watched the glorious sight of Wanda, eyes trained on the delicious sight below her, bordering the edge of climax.

“Oh, fuck,” she groaned, jade irises disappearing as she squeezed her eyes shut. You whined in need as she nearly accidentally slipped inside you from her sloppy movements, until finally she came, her strap twitching as ropes of her cum spurted onto your lower stomach, another load spurting right against your slit. “Fuckkkk,” she breathed as her hips stuttered a few more times before she stilled, catching her breath to look at the glorious sight she had made of you.

Her warm cum was splattered across the smooth expanse of your lower belly, and the rest of it was oozing down your pussy. You felt ravenous at this point, watching her behold you with such lust-filled eyes.

Wanda wanted to reach out and spread her cum around your tummy, but it was such a perfect sight that she didn’t want to ruin. “Look at you, my little cumslut,” she husked, smirking at the way you stared at her shyly, although your pupils were still crazed with desire.

“Please,” you faintly begged again, throbbing to the point of pain. You needed her so badly now more than ever, and your eyes glistened over as tears rapidly filled them.

Wanda pouted mockingly at you as she cupped your face and used her thumb to wipe away a tear that fell down your scorching cheeks. “Tell me you’re my cumslut, and I’ll give you what you want.”

You smoldered under her, fingers tremblingly grabbing her upper arms. “I’m your cumslut,” you pleaded, repeating it again as Wanda smiled satisfactorily and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Without breaking the kiss, she guided her cock to your entrance and slammed her entire length inside you.

You cried out in a mixture of relief and pain as she bottomed out inside you. You weren’t lying when you mentioned your tightness to her earlier, for your walls squeezed around her girth as she buried herself deep inside you.

Wanda cursed under her breath as she started to pound into you, the bed shaking from her force. “God, I love your pussy,” she moaned, glancing down to watch the way she disappeared inside you, your pussy squelching from your own wetness and her cum that glistened on your outer folds. Thanks to her magic, her endurance hadn’t faltered since her first climax, and she could already feel herself getting close again as she hammered into your cunt.

“Wanda,” you whined, the heat in your veins nearly unbearable as you grabbed onto her desperately, as if you would fall into the void without her clutch. Wanda slipped her hands under you to squeeze your ass as she fucked you, your legs hooked under her arms.

“You gonna take my cum inside you like a good cumslut?” she whispered against your lips as she nipped at them, although you were too far gone to kiss back.

You nodded, making some incoherent noise of confirmation as her cock hit your sweet spot repeatedly. The blissful stretch of your hole around her was driving you close to the edge, and when she reached down and started to rub your clit, her other hand still grabbing your ass, it was all too much for you to bear. The bed shook from how hard Wanda fucked you, her moans mixing with yours as she started to come closer. Your walls throbbing and clenching around her was forcing her to use all her strength to keep herself from climaxing before you did.

“Fuck, Wanda,” you cursed as the pressure in your lower tummy started to crack and break, and in another few moments you came undone around her cock, your back arching off the bed as powerful waves of orgasm crashed down on you.

The sensation of your climax was enough for Wanda to be unable to hold back anymore, and she came, shooting a thick load of her cum deep inside you as she buried her face in your neck. Your climax doubled from the feeling, your nails scratching helplessly at Wanda’s back as she ruined you. Her moans came hot and loud against your ear, and you felt blind and deaf as you started to come down from your high. You were blissed out and entirely filled up that you didn’t even notice Wanda move her face out from your neck and stare down at you, watching as your eyes remained closed and your breaths came heavy through your parted lips.

She kept herself inside you for a few moments before she pulled out, which stirred your eyes open. She hummed at the sight of your pussy, coated in her cum as the rest she had planted inside you started to ooze out of your stretched hole. Her cum on your stomach had smeared from her pressing herself against you at some point, but you still looked so fucking perfect as her cumslut.

“Such a good girl for taking my cum,” Wanda purred, stroking your face and pressing a kiss to your hot forehead. You hummed and nuzzled into her touch, to which she smiled softly. “This was much better than going out with those friends of yours, hm?”

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