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sttoru · 1 year ago

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[ 𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 ]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. the king of curses cannot fight off his primal urges and thus you suffer the consequences.

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, angst (w/ comfort), p.orn with mostly plot. mäting press. choking. rough like.. condescendingly rough. objectification. toxic relationship? yes. small hint of creampiē. double cawks. reader gets called ‘slut, girl, woman’ wc: 3.9k

“look at that slutty cunt takin’ my cock. think i wanna try fitting both at once in that lil’ hole. keh,” sukuna grunts as he looks down at you from above. your legs are burning from being folded in half—matter of fact—your entire body is aching.

any normal person would call out their safeword in a situation like this. you’re overwhelmed to the point that your brain doesn’t know what to do. you’re experiencing euphoria, yet feel like your doom is right around the corner.

you’re playing with fire whenever you’re intimate with the king of curses.

it’s too addictive to stop. being his favorite concubine has given you enough motivation to push through any difficulties. any discomfort your body feels, is automatically discarded and replaced with drowning pleasure. it’s like sukuna has put a spell on you; one that’s unbreakable.

“fffnghh—my lord,” you gasp for air as one of his big hands wrap tightly around your throat. your airway is blocked, nearly crushed by sukuna’s immense force. you get a flashback to the last time he’s choked you, how sukuna nearly lost control of his own strength.

your eyes are watery as your insides follow each thrust. back and forth, in and out. it is a simple rhythm, but you cannot get enough. the harsh and sticky echoes of skin slapping against skin are nearly ear deafening. his heavy balls bounce against the plush flesh of your ass with every move, ready to unload everything they’ve stored.

“shut up,” sukuna spits, looking down at you like you’re but a mere insect. perhaps you were exactly that to him in the heat of the moment. his red eyes show that he’s losing himself. that cruel yet greedy look only intensifies with the second, “you only speak when y’re spoken to—or did y’ forget your damn place?”

you swallow your words and resort to simple moaning after you apologise, “i’m sorry, m’lord.” your blurry vision creates a trippy illusion, giving sukuna eight arms and eyes. not only are you seeing double, the feeling of ecstasy is twice as strong. you feel like you’re being ripped apart from the inside.

you can’t speak about it. you’re not allowed to open your mouth unless it’s to moan or breathe. perhaps even the latter is too much to ask. your fingers shake as they wrap around sukuna’s wrist. you try to tug at the hand that is wrapped around your throat, but your strength is gone.

your body is shaking violently with each thrust. you can’t keep up with anything that’s happening. you’re unable to process the feeling of sukuna’s second cock trying to prod its way into your cunt as well. you’re going to break — he’s going to break you.

you want to speak up and tell him you can’t take both in the same hole at once. it’s an impossible task; one can’t even fit that easily. he’s girthy and got an immense length, an inhuman one you’ve never seen before. you swear you can feel him in your tummy. the tip feeling like it's nestled right underneath your belly button.

sukuna scoffs as you tighten up around his lower cock. you’re weak; a weak human who he can’t seem to get out of his mind. he wants to exploit that obedience of yours today—to ruin you mentally and physically.

he can’t ignore those urges to ruin that what causes him weakness. he wishes to regain the power over himself again. that can only be done by consuming you, removing you from existence.

“i can’t fuckin’ stand you,” sukuna growls, his eyes darkening beyond imagination, “y’re always in the way.” you’re scared of the king of curses, which rarely happens. the last time you were afraid of his monstrous aura was during your first encounter in the woods. his manly hand squeezes your throat until you’re genuinely struggling to breathe.

there’s an unmistakable sense of danger boiling in your guts. this is the real nature of the curse named ryomen sukuna. the man above you, who’s drilling his cock into you while you’re suffering, is the real deal.

the true face of the man you thought you knew.

“i’m gonna get rid of you, y’hear? after this, y’re nothing,” sukuna pants, sweat droplets falling onto your cheeks from above. he looks like he’s internally fighting with himself. the expression on his face tells you enough. you want to reach a hand out towards his cheek and hold it.

he looks beautiful, even when he spews such serious threats at you. your cunt is burning and holding tightly onto his cock, even when you realise it may break you.

you’ve stayed for so long with him, even when you know you’ll one day die at his side or by his hands.

locks of his pink hair stick to his forehead. sweat rolls down those black tattoos. all four red eyes are burning with a carnal desire to claim you as his property—to destroy you like his property. as is his right. that’s the only way to satiate that overwhelming feeling inside of sukuna.

whenever you’re around him, he finds himself drawn by your presence. he wants you to stay by his side all day, and if you aren’t, it’s like gravity is pulling him towards you. sukuna despises it—he craves to possess you, yet also get rid of your entire being. that way he can return to his normal self. the monster he's known as.

“i’ll throw ya away—gonna get a new toy to spend more time with,” the king of curses digs his nails into the back of your knees. the tip of his upper cock glides back and forth over your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves until it’s burning. you’re losing yourself in both pleasure and pain.

the hurtful words don’t seem to affect you. you still look up at him like he’s your everything—like he’s the reason you exist. sukuna turns furious the moment he notices that his threats don’t seem to work. you’re impossible and he hates that which he cannot control.

he cuts off any air that may enter your lungs. your eyes widen and your fingers tug at his wrist so he’d let loose, but alas. you’re going to lose consciousness without a doubt. tears stream down your cheeks, though not because of the hopelessness you’re feeling.

“i do not need you anymore,” sukuna says gruffly, trying to convince himself of that statement as well. he never needed anyone else during his entire lifetime, so why would he need you? he can replace you with any another woman.

your body goes limp. sukuna’s voice is muffled as you enter a state of half consciousness. you’re at the bridge between life and death. your eyes catch a glimpse of the faint struggle in his eyes.

he looks like a monster through and through, visibly acting like one too. though you’re able to catch a glimpse of an underlying vulnerability. that part of him that always shows itself when you two are alone—making you feel special because you’re the only one allowed to witness it.

you crack a faint, weak smile. even if you perish right then and there, it’s going to be at the hands of the man you’ve learnt to love. the sorcerer who’s made you feel on top of the world, without him realising it. you’ll forever be thankful for the moments you’ve spent together.

you’ll never forget the times where sukuna has made you feel safe in those same arms that will now be your death.

a tear slides down your temple. you look sukuna in the eyes while you’re seconds away from meeting your end. you show no signs of struggle as he gives you your final command;

“die.”

you close your eyes. your fingers loosen their grip around sukuna’s wrist before you let your hand fall at your side. you’ve accepted your fate with a weary smile, honored to have sukuna be the last thing you see, “understood, my lord.”

you’ve lost feeling in all limbs and your eyelids droop. all you can do is await for death to come collect your soul. it’s dark and you can’t hear a thing anymore. you’re confused when the burning sensation in your lungs returns.

your eyes fly open the moment some oxygen is able to reach your airway again. the harsh fingers around your neck have disappeared, though not without leaving aching marks. you clutch your chest as it hurts to breathe after not being able to for the longest time.

you gasp and cough uncontrollably. you wince and blink the tears away from your eyes, refocusing your vision on the large stature detaching from your side. you’re bewildered to say the least—not realising the reason behind sukuna’s sudden change of heart. he’s sworn to get rid of you, didn’t he?

he told you to die and yet he let you live.

“fuck,” the king of curses groans after he snapped out of the dangerous state he was in. he’s panting snd staring at the hand that was once wrapped around your throat. he’s not looking at you at all.

you feel him pull out which makes you hiss. you sit up, the adrenaline helping your tired body move itself. sukuna is silent, with no emotions apparent on his face. however one thing you can conclude for sure is that he’s caught off guard by his own actions.

he can’t get it out of his head. the vision of you laying beneath him, accepting your doom as told. even on the brink of death, you oblige. you accept his every word. why? sukuna’s head is filled with unanswered questions.

you’re an enigma that he cannot solve.

“out of the way, girl,” sukuna easily shoves you to the side with one hand. he’s still not looking you in the eyes. he refuses to look in the eyes of the one woman whom he tried to kill. the sole woman who seems to accept him for who he is.

you’re the only one who’s able to understand him and yet he tried to get rid of you. perhaps he’s afraid of being understood and accepted. sukuna is fine on his own—there’s no need for anyone by his side.

you manage to get your breathing under control after a couple seconds. you’re still hyperventilating, but it’s getting better. your body shakes as you cover yourself with the sheets, your hair messily covering your vision. you reach a hand out to sukuna, curious about what’s gotten into him, “i’m, ngh- are you okay, m—”

“i said, get out,” the man raises his voice before harshly grabbing your wrist. sukuna pushes you towards the exit of his chambers. you stumble forward and manage to catch yourself by grabbing onto the nearest wall. everything is happening so fast.

you simply nod and grab your robes from the floor. you hurriedly cover yourself before stepping out of the room. you fall to your knees not two steps away into the hallway. your hand flies up to your neck, touching it as if making sure that you’re still alive.

you can’t believe sukuna spared you. if he changed his mind one second later than he originally had, you’d be a lost cause.

tears well up in your eyes as the gravity of the situation settles in. you may have accepted your fate in the heat of the moment, but now that it’s over, you’re left trembling on your own. you can’t shake off that intense look in sukuna’s eyes as he pounded you into the mattress.

he was hungry for your soul. to consume you and not leave any of your bones—to get rid of you so you’re out of his sight and mind.

you sniffle and can’t bring yourself to stand up. you’ve lost strength in your legs because the adrenaline levels in your body have dropped. you slowly crawl over the floor and hope that no one catches you in a pitiful state like this.

you manage to get a couple metres away, though soon find yourself staring at a pair of socks that come into view. you lift your head and the owner of the tabi eventually appears in sight.

“uraume,” your voice is hoarse. you make eye contact with sukuna’s personal chef as they stand before you, their expression unreadable.

the sigh they let out tells you that they’ve expected such an outcome since long ago. without a word, they reach a hand out and help you up.

. . .

it’s been a week since then. uraume has helped you recover from that unfortunate experience. the other concubines didn’t dare talk to you. they’ve noticed the change in sukuna’s behavior after that night he spent with you.

he’s gone on more rampages than he usually does. he’s been killing innocent servants who walked past him while on duty, and visiting nearby villages only to commit mass destruction. his emotions are uncontrollable at this point and no one has a clue on what to do.

the best option is to stay out of sukuna’s sight. and not to mess with you, just in case.

you’ve personally tried to approach him a couple times, but either chicken out or get totally ignored. you really want to talk it out, though it may seem impossible. you’ve evaded death once, you’re not sure if you can do that twice.

you’re currently sitting on a bench in the courtyard as uraume is applying an ointment to your throat. your neck still hurts with every move you make. the strength of sukuna’s hand is not to be underestimated, you know that.

you flinch as they rub the cold liquid over your achy skin. it helps numbing the pain, which is god sent for when you want to sleep. you can easily rest without having to suffer the unbearable discomfort in your neck muscles.

it’s a bit quiet in the garden. it isn’t unusual for uraume to be silent, but you’re aching to talk about what’s bothering you. of course, the oh-so-important subject includes no one other than the king of curses.

you sigh and start rambling about your failed attempts to reconcile your relationship with sukuna. you’re getting frustrated and sad at the situation. you want nothing more than to go back to how things were—with you receiving special treatment.

you miss his voice, his touches, his hair, his skin, his muscles, his eyes, his hugs. . . it’s all too much to bear with. you want the sukuna you know back. you don’t care if he tried to get rid of you. you’ve long understood that it was his primal, unspoken urges that had taken over his brain.

“i don’t know.. he doesn’t want to talk to me nor see me,” you shrug and pout. uraume nods and tilts your chin back gently to get the ointment in every little cranny. you stare up at the bright blue sky, the gentle breeze being comforting, both mentally and physically.

your ears pick up on footsteps behind you. heavy footsteps which you recognise as sukuna’s. you whip your head to the side, perhaps a bit too fast, causing the pain in your neck muscles to return. you hear uraume sigh as they see their hard work go to waste in under a split second.

your eyes are focused on sukuna’s large stature filling out the layout of the garden. uraume politely bows at their master after taking a few steps away from you. they don’t lift their head as sukuna walks past you both.

he doesn’t spare you a glance. it’s like you’re not there at all. you frown and pout, though know better than to make a fool out of yourself and speak up. you watch the man walk into the main building of the estate, his sharp eyes focused on the path ahead, his hands resting inside the sleeves of his black kimono.

once sukuna disappears from your vision, you sigh and slump back against the bench. you look at uraume as they move close to you again, taking a glance at your neck. you huff and cock your head to the entrance of the building, “see! that’s what i mean!”

you’re clearly fed up. you just want to make up. you don’t care about the fact that he nearly killed you in that moment. you simply desire to feel that connection between the two of you again. a complicated relationship with its many ups and downs. it may be toxic, but you crave it.

uraume hums at your worries. they radiate a sense of peace that inevitably calms you down as well. they take a quick glance at the direction where sukuna was last seen. they’ve been serving him ever since decennia back—way before you became his concubine.

they’ve never seen him this conflicted, but they don’t tell you that. uraume looks back at you with a simple nod, trusting that you’ll be fine. if your life has been spared when sukuna was in such an indescribable irrational state of mind, then there’s nothing to worry about.

you’re the only one who’s ever escaped death by his hands. that is an incredible feat by itself.

uraume rubs the oil over your neck again, getting the last spots as they reassure you with one simple sentence; “i’m sure lord sukuna simply requires some time alone.”

. . .

you take uraume’s comment seriously. if sukuna needed time, you’ll give him as much space as possible. and thus it’s been another week ever since then.

it’s a sunday night and you can’t sleep. you get up from your futon and wrap a simple blanket around your body. you can’t be bothered to brush your hair or look proper. no one will be up during this ungodly hour anyway.

you sneak out of your chambers and walk down the long hallways. you slide the door to the courtyard open and step out onto the pavement after putting on your geta. it’s a chilly night with a full moon, perfect weather to take a breather.

you walk around the familiar scenery and crouch down near a patch of flowers. they’re your favorites. sukuna had personally ordered his servants to plant them in the garden after he found out you like them. the memory brings a fond smile to your face.

such small yet meaningful actions never fail to melt your heart. it’s another reason why you want to make up with sukuna. you want to help with whatever he’s struggling with, however you know that man will never accept the aid.

you wish to support him at the very least. you want to show your devotion to him, if that already wasn’t clear to him.

you sigh and stand up. you’re caught up in your own thoughts to realise that someone’s been watching you the entire time. you walk straight forward until you reach the koi pond. you stare at the fish as they float in the clear water.

you wish you could be as carefree as them. you turn around to walk back to your room after it’s getting a bit too cold. you did not expect to bump your head against a hard surface. “ow,” you rub your forehead and look up.

there he stands; the man you’ve been dying to see and speak to. sukuna stares down at you without uttering a word, his sharp eyes finally looking into yours.

“ry— my lord,” you stammer, switching to a more polite stance. you’re thrilled, but the excitement quickly dies down as you remember uraume’s words; he needs time. you don’t want to disturb him, as much as you want to jump into his arms. you bow your head at him, “have a good night.”

your heart hurts as you force yourself away from sukuna. you step away from him and look at the ground as you walk. simply seeing him from up close again has been enough for now. though, your body yearns for more.

a simple touch will suffice. . .

you’re surprised when you feel a tug at the blanket around your shoulders. you stumble back and nearly fall on your bum if it wasn’t for sukuna holding you up. you feel an arm sneak around your waist from behind, surprisingly gentle. much gentle than ever before.

sukuna lowers his head to whisper in your ear. he lets his wet tongue slide over the shell, nibbling at the skin as if reminding himself of your taste, “stay.”

it’s an order, that you can tell. you’re weak for him and thus you obey without a single sign of protest. you feel a sudden sharp sting on the side of your neck which makes you remember what caused it. sukuna seems to notice the same thing.

it’s been getting better, but you still randomly get tingles near your neck area when you move it around too much. you silently push through the pain, which only lasts about a few seconds.

sukuna doesn’t comment on it, but takes a mental note of the sight. he’s recalling that time when you’ve nearly died at his hands. his eyes darken at the memory. he’s been trying to process the fact that he’s lost control over himself. those dark urges had taken over his mind and body, nearly consuming him whole.

they’re still hidden inside him—the desires to possess you, crush you, consume and devour your heart, body and soul. they intensify when you’re with him. it doesn’t happen with anyone else.

sukuna still cannot comprehend why you. what does that feeling in his stomach mean whenever he’s with you? it’s irritating, because it confuses him. confusing things which he doesn’t hold the answer over, annoy the king of curses.

an urge to claim someone as his forever, going as far as to want to consume them, is a new feeling to sukuna. it’s an unhealthy obsession that’s started because of you.

is that what humans call love?

he’s thought about it. perhaps, that is the case. but it must be a different type of love—one that’s so overwhelming that it’s dangerous. for both parties involved.

sukuna sighs. thinking about emotions and feelings isn’t his forte—it never really was. it’s stupid and foolish. and yet sukuna feels like a true king whenever you’re with him. your devotion to him sends shivers down his spine in a good way.

it showed two weeks ago. he saw how you accepted your position; your death. it turns him on to see you so submissive and obedient. maybe that’s also a reason why he nearly lost his mind that day.

lust is a scary thing.

sukuna’s lips avoid your neck. he rests his forehead on top of your shoulder, simply standing still against you from behind. the chilly breeze is long forgotten as his large stature protects you from the cold air. you don’t even need your blanket anymore.

you smile in content as you finally get what you want. you don’t even need an apology. hell—you don’t even need any words. this moment is more than enough to rebuild your relationship with the man behind you.

“y’re not going anywhere, yeah?” sukuna says in a low and possessive tone. it’s another command you follow without hesitation. he’s never going to tell you directly, but the lack of your presence has definitely been felt. now that he has you, his favorite concubine, he’s not going to lose you again. he won’t allow it.

you nod at sukuna’s words with a chuckle. you’re happy to be back in his warm embrace. you know that sukuna isn’t one to talk about his own inner turmoil, so you don’t push it.

those dark urges of his are to be discussed another day, if sukuna allows it. for now, this fleeting moment is more than enough. you reply to his order as you always do, to any command that leaves his lips;

“understood, my lord.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #jjk x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk angst #sukuna angst

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my-castles-crumbling · 1 month ago

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man - may 25 - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 512

“Marlene asked me if I was gay today.”

Regulus almost choked on his own spit. It’d been weeks of this….thing, this strange friendship, with James Potter, and he suspected he would never get used to the other boy’s open way of speaking. “What did you say?” he asked after he got proper working use of his mouth again.

“Said I didn’t know. I’ve never kissed a boy before, have I?” James said casually, walking along beside Regulus as they completed Prefect Rounds.

Suddenly, Regulus couldn’t breathe properly. What was he supposed to say to that? Certainly, screaming aloud that he would happily volunteer wasn’t a friend thing to do. But the sad truth of it was that he’d been disgustingly obsessed with the annoying enigma that was James Potter for months. Years, if he was ready to admit it. Which he wasn’t. He decided to go with a different answer. “It’s different than kissing girls,” he said vaguely, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh? You’ve kissed boys?” James asked, his footsteps slowing.

Fuck. He’d figured the older boy knew. “Erm. Yeah. It’s…I’m gay,” he nodded, wanting to sink into the ground.

“Maybe you can show me, then? How to kiss a bloke?”

Oh, this was a dream. It had to be. Because on the one hand, it was everything Regulus had ever wanted–kissing the boy he’d pined after for ages. But on the other…to be able to kiss James only to be told that no, he didn’t like boys like that. Or worse, that he liked boys, but not Regulus…Salazar, that would kill him.

But he’s never been good at making great choices, so he spoke without thinking. “I could,” he murmured, keeping his voice aloof, heart in his throat.

How had he ended up with his back against the wall? How had he hot realized how much taller than him James was? How was it that their lips hadn’t even touched yet, but he was already reeling? All he knew was that suddenly, James was almost pressed against him, his mouth just centimeters away, and Regulus wanted to drown in him.

He told himself to keep control.

He forgot as soon as their lips touched.

Gasping, his hands moved of their own accord to grab James’s curls, his back arching and his feet rising on tiptoe to get a better angle as James, who seemed just as eager as he was, licked into his mouth almost immediately, swallowing his noises.

His head was swimming in the best way, his body on fire, his every nerve a live wire, something warm and honey-like pooling in his stomach when James let out a low groan and pressed forward. Fuck, and he tasted so fucking good.

After several seconds, James pulled back, looking nothing less than dazed.

Regulus regained enough sense to lower his hands and try to calm his gasping breaths. “How–what d’you think?” he asked, trying to be casual about it, even as his whole body sang.

“Yes. Yes, I like men. You specifically,” James mumbled, wide-eyed, before pulling Regulus toward him again.

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chaossturns · 6 months ago

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dry humping bsf!chris in the backseat of his car

𝜗𝜚 bsf!chris, kissing, swearing, dry humping, pet name(s), and fem!reader

𝜗𝜚 wc: ???

it all started as an innocent night.

chris drove you around the city, picked some take out and parked at a nice, poorly lit spot. you caught up on life, joked around, and your exchange of words soon turned to one of touch.

the windows fogged up once you switched to the back seat, the heated make out session was creating a very hard to bear friction.

"teasin' me so good, fuuuuuck..." chris breathed out between clumsy kisses, trying hard to remain sane while you rocked your still clothed self against his lap.

he grasped your hips in a firm grip, helping you keep that sinful pace and making small, throaty sounds of his own.

"god, you're such a damn tease." chris muttered, trying again to regain some self control. "It's driving me crazy."

his lips returned to your neck, traveling down, leaving a trail of hot kisses on their way. he found your skin to be soft and addictive, and he couldn't resist teasing it himself by biting on your pulse point.

a low chuckle left him when your breath hitched from the sudden contact. he wanted to hear a sound of a completely different nature coming from your mouth, though.

"lift your hips a bit for me, ma." chris commanded, his voice dripping with hunger.

one of his large hands moved under your thigh, assisting the movement and angling you against him in a much more favorable way. there was that smirk on his face now, so smug as he could feel you getting much more needy.

"mmm... much better." he wasted zero time before lifting his own hips, meeting up against your wet center and rolling them in a lazy motion. he was so painfully hard, you could definitely feel it through the fabric of his jeans.

“m’fuck chris.” you moaned lowly, relishing in the way his hard dick prodded into your clothed, wet cunt.

he was breathing heavily as he ground up against you through that thick fabric. chris’s other hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to look straight in his eyes. all he could see in them was desire and desperation, something that almost threw him off his course until he regained his self control.

he leaned in, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss, biting your lower lip in a possessive manner. he was enjoying the way you rocked against him, he just couldn't get enough of you.

a/n: something small for chris after finally getting his license 🫦

🏷️: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @sturnsslut @bigbeefybitch @itsnotmariahh @thenickgirl @thisisntmattsturniolo @sturniyolo69 @luvs4matt @joemamaaa42069 @conspiracy-ash @chrispotatos @watercolorskyy @sturnfannn @emely9274 @strnlslut @jetaimevous @gemzyy

©chaossturns

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolos #chaossturns ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚#fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturiolo fanfic

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tk-duveraun · 12 days ago

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AU where actually SY was SJ's twin, died in the Qiu house, reincarnated into the modern world and then isrkaied into his past life brother.

SJ's soul is there but recovering. His body would have died without yuandi taking over. Yes he's upset about sy being nice to LBH and the peak lords but that's his yuandi! He can do whatever he wants forever

Meanwhile sy starts losing time, people comment he's been crabby lately and the system gives him a bunch of warnings about instability because sj is partially regaining control.

Eventually sj leaves out a note of some body making plant (not sun dew mushroom which he thinks will take too long) telling yuandi to get on it bc his soul has recovered

Cue sqq: ???

And this is right before the IAC but sy DID kind of steal this guy's life?

The system tells sy that he has to get the new body belt the IAC so he does that missing the last few months with his precious bun.... Only to not be awake yet in the new body before the conference.

SJ brings him back secretly and takes over. At the edge of the abyss he spews a lot of hatred and vitriol at LBH who is just sobbing in a kowtow

Eventually sj stops and says a powerful cultivator is coming. If LBH ever wants to see his kind Shizun again he has to escape via the abyss and redeem himself by coming back alive

Confused but willing to do anything LBH complies.

3 years later LBH shows up to find qjp has 2 peak lords which explains A LOT.

Anyway the trials of Hercules pale in comparison to what SJ makes LBH do to prove his worth. SJ is literally trying to get him killed but LBH is the protagonist.

(sy is oblivious to the courting attempt he thinks LBH just really wants to be a disciple again for some reason)

Eventually SJ realizes that not only is LBH nigh-unkillable, but he's more than willing to put every piece of himself at stake to keep yuandi safe. So he very grudgingly allows it.

#svsss #one of tasks has lbh retrieve a mirror that lets you see the past #SJ wants to torture himself watching what qige was doing while he was suffering

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ollyissleepy · 2 months ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

pairings: platonic yandere!batfam x uninterested!male!reader summary: After being caught red handed stealing, (name) finds himself in the Wayne Manor, surrounded by his new family. (Name)'s disinterested in bonding is met with equally not caring siblings and father. As he spends his days alone, (name) realises his new family might care much more than he originally thought the did. cw: stealing, swearing, underage smoking, reader commits a crime, kidnapping (kind of) a/n: someone asked if I would consider to post it on ao3 and I've decided against it due to (not so) recent events regarding fics on ao3 being fed to ai. also this one is shorther, because I decided (kind of on a whim) that I want to highlight other scenes more (yes, they will be with Bruce) based on this idea I had

(Name) steps into the kitchen early in the morning. Hoping, begging that the persistent child would finally give up on eating breakfasts with him.

The past few days, Damian seemed insistent on waking up much earlier than usual. All of that just to eat breakfast with (name). The sudden disruption of his and Alfred's morning routine started to be annoying for the teenager. He has been here for a while now; why did that brat start to invade his space now?

And don't get him started on the other weird behaviours from Damian. Every time (name) turns around, the boy is always somewhere not too far from him. He sees him the most each time he interacts with Duke.

(Name) sighs, seeing that the butler is already in the kitchen. Much earlier than his usual time, already working on what the teenager recognises as a small snack for Damian. The teenager's jaw tenses as Alfred gives him a tired smile.

The teenager quickly fixed himself his own breakfast, not wanting the butler to suggest making something for him like he did the previous day. He no longer looks up when the butler greets Damian; (name) eats his breakfast in silence, thinking of a right moment to knock some sense into the boy next to him.

The right opportunity comes much later in the day when Duke is busy with his own things. (Name) makes sure that the boy is following him around before disappearing into one of the many rooms in the manor. Damian took the bait without a second thought, walking right behind the teenager.

Damian looks around the room confused, as the space appears empty. He doesn't think of turning around until (name) forcefully shuts the door. The boy jumps slightly, not expecting a loud noise behind him. (Name) doesn't wait for the boy to figure out what's going on, walking right up to Damian, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

"Stop insisting on eating in the kitchen!" (Name) shouted right into the boy's face. "Alfred started waking up sooner to make you something. You're going to run the old man thin!"

As Damian's initial shock wears off, the boy regains control over his own body. He breaks free from (name)'s hold, scoffing. He was slightly caught off guard by the teenager, but that doesn't stop him from putting his head high, trying to assert dominance. Walking out, Damian makes sure to shove (name) out of his way.

The next morning, walking into the kitchen, (name) is met with an interesting sight. Damian, standing in front of a kitchen island with random ingredients scattered on top of it. The boy is looking at them so helplessly; (name) almost pities him. Almost.

(Name) doesn't say anything, doesn't even greet the boy. Moving around the room, gathering what he needs for his own breakfast. He feels Damian's eyes following all of his moves. (Name) glances over to the boy, sighing loudly. The boy still didn't know what to do with the stuff he took out.

"I'll make you something; just... put all of that where you found it." (name) gives in, offering to help the boy. For Alfred, he told himself.

Damian doesn't respond. He does, however, follow (name)'s instructions. The boy puts every ingredient back in their previous spots. Damian smirks to himself; his plan to still eat breakfast with his older brother without bothering the butler worked better than he expected it to.

Alfred walks into the kitchen just in time to see Damian receiving a bowl of food from his older brother. The butler bites his tongue from making a comment on the interaction, knowing it might stop the boys from interacting with each other again. Instead, he starts making breakfast for the rest of the family with a soft smile on his face.

Duke finds (name) not long after breakfast, skipping towards his brother happily and talking about how Alfred agreed to take them to an arcade. The boys walk up to their rooms to get ready, failing to notice Damian listening in to their conversation. (Name) turns around after hearing someone run behind them but doesn't dwell on it much as Duke is calling for him to hurry up.

(Name) almost turns back toward his room when he sees Damian standing next to the butler, only to stop short when he feels Duke standing right behind him.

"Oh, Damian, are you coming with us?" Duke asks casually.

"Yeah. Thought it'd be nice for the three of us to spend some time together," Damian replies.

(Name) scoffs. Duke nudges him, giving a small shake of his head — a silent warning for the teenager to keep his thoughts to himself.

The ride to the arcade is uncomfortably quiet. In the beginning, Duke made attempts at a conversation, but all of them died out quickly, leaving the air in the car tense.

After what feels like hours, the car finally comes to a stop in front of an arcade. All three boys step out, with Duke leaning back into the car to speak to Alfred.

"Don’t worry about lunch, Alfred," Duke says. "We’ll grab something to eat in town."

Alfred lingers in the parking spot, reluctant to drive off. He watches as Duke gently drags (Name) into the arcade, with Damian trailing just behind them. Only when the boys disappear from view does Alfred finally turn the car around and head back to the manor.

Inside, the arcade buzzed with sound and colour — 8-bit music, clanging tokens, and bursts of digital victory music filling the air. Duke had been right: (name) was good at the games, surprisingly so. He won round after round, stacking up a small mountain of tickets that trailed behind him as he walked. Damian stayed quiet, hovering at a distance, watching more than he played. He’d only come to spend time with his brother, even if that feeling wasn’t exactly mutual. (Name) didn’t look at him, didn’t speak to him; most of the time he pretended the boy wasn't even here. If it wasn't for Duke's occasional comments towards the boy, Damian might've been invisible the entire time the boy was there.

After winning enough tickets to buy almost half of the shop inside the arcade, they decide to call it quits. Duke suggests grabbing a quick bite at a nearby BatBurger before thinking about what to do next.

Inside, they picked out a booth tucked deeper into the shop, looking for a little more privacy. Before (name) could protest, Damian slipped in beside him, boxing his older brother against the window.

They ate in silence, the arcade noise fading into the background. Both Duke and (name) seemed a little worn out from all the running around.

"So... what are we doing next?" Duke asked, stretching his arms a little. "I was thinking—"

He didn’t get to finish. One of their phones started ringing. Both Damian and Duke checked their screens, while (name) didn’t bother — he knew it wasn’t his. The only person who ever called him was sitting across the table. Damian stared at the caller ID for a moment, wondering if he should pick up.

"It’s Dick. I’ll be back," he sighed, already sliding out of the booth.

They watched him take the call, his voice low and mostly inaudible, only an apology carried just enough to reach them. (Name) watched Damian’s posture, trying to read what the conversation was about from a distance: his stance, his expression, anything that might give it away.

"So, is there anything else you want to do?" Duke asked, pulling (name)'s attention back to the table.

"Honestly? I think I’ve had enough," (name) admitted.

"You and your social battery," Duke said, grinning. "You should get it replaced; it dies out way too fast."

(Name) threw a fry at Duke, hitting him square in the shoulder. Duke gasped in mock betrayal, then burst out laughing, (name) quickly following with a laugh of his own. They didn’t notice Damian had returned until he cleared his throat.

"We were thinking of heading back to the manor," Duke said, glancing over. "Are you cool with that?"

"Yup," Damian replied simply, sliding back into his seat.

"Alright, I’ll call Alfred then. Be right back," Duke said, getting up and stepping away from the booth.

The two teenagers left in the booth sat in uncomfortable silence, waiting. (Name) kept his eyes on the window, watching people pass by outside, anything to avoid unnecessary contact with Damian.

When Duke returned, he slid back into the booth with a bit of ease that neither of them shared. He picked the conversation back up without missing a beat, filling the silence with something lighter.

"Alfred should be here soon," he said, checking his watch. "Won’t be long."

All three of them had barely stepped through the front door of the manor when they were greeted by the man (name) had bumped into during one of his first days there.

"Oh, so that’s who you went out with!" Dick said, grinning as he looked between them.

"Like I said when we spoke on the phone, I went with my blood brother and Thomas," Damian replied coolly.

"Sooo... how’d it go? Did you guys have fun?" Dick asked, clearly trying to stay upbeat.

(Name) didn’t respond. He turned and walked away before he could be dragged any deeper into the conversation. Duke trailed behind him without a word. As they moved down the hallway, (name) could still catch fragments of the conversation behind them.

"It was horrible. I do not wish to talk about it," Damian said flatly.

"I'm sorry, buddy..." Dick replied, his voice softer now, almost gentle.

Reaching the right floor, both of the boys separate, Duke understanding (name)'s need to wind down by himself.

(Name) comes down to the library, knowing that no one should bother him in there. He picks up the book he started reading recently, ready to finish it. The teenager chooses a seat further into the library, somewhere where he couldn't be seen from the doorway, throwing a blanket over his lap.

The teenager’s peace doesn’t last long. He barely makes it to the end of a chapter when he hears a voice, one he’s pretty sure belongs to Dick, calling his name. (Name) sighs, sinking deeper into his seat, hoping that if he stays quiet long enough, the man will just give up and leave. No such luck.

Before he knows it, Dick is standing right in front of him.

"There you are," Dick says lightly.

(Name) doesn’t respond.

"I know we didn’t start off on the best foot," Dick continues, voice still friendly but tinged with something more sincere. "But it’s not like you gave me much time to get to know you. You don’t even eat dinner with us."

"Yeah, haven’t done that once since I got to the manor," (name) replies flatly.

An uncomfortable silence settles between them. Dick clears his throat.

"Anyway... do you want to have a movie night with us?"

“Us?” (Name) echoes, raising a brow.

"Yeah! Me, Damian, and Barbara said she might join too," Dick says, trying to keep the tone upbeat.

"No, thank you," (name) says without hesitation, already standing.

The teenager leaves the library without another word. Dick decides on a different approach, hoping that Duke might be able to convince the teenager to join them.

Some time later, as (name) lounged on a couch in one of the lesser-used studies, Duke finds him with an idea on how to spend the rest of the day. He proposes a movie night with a few other family members. (Name) didn’t even look up, sighing.

"Let me guess, it’s with Dick, Damian, and Barbara?" he muttered. "Yeah, I’m not going."

"C’mon, just this once," Duke coaxed. "If you end up not enjoying it, I won’t ask you again. Promise."

(Name) sighed, glancing over. Seeing the look in Duke's eyes, he knew there was no way of getting out of this.

"Fine," he said. "But if you ask again, I will commit a crime just to get away."

"Noted. I’ll make sure it’s a good one, then." Duke laughed.

And that's how (name) found himself late into the night, sitting between Duke and Damian, watching a comedy Dick chose. 'A classic,' he said. Well, it was one shitty class in (name)'s opinion, but he promised Duke to make it till the end, so he doesn't voice his opinion. In truth, the teenager doesn't say much during the duration of the movie night, mostly one-word answers or a quiet laugh at something Duke had said. (name) ignores all of the scoffing and sneering coming from Damian as well as the glances he receives from both Barbara and Dick.

(Name) becomes aware that the rest of the siblings might be plotting something the next day as he is sitting in the library trying to read the same book he was previously interrupted from.

He doesn't notice his presence at first, too interested in the action happening in the book. (Name) finally sees him as he moves to switch into a more comfortable position. The teenager freezes at the sight of the man he met the first time he snuck away to smoke.

"I really liked that book," the man says casually. "Do you?"

(Name) doesn’t answer, eyes dropping back to the page, though he’s no longer reading.

"I’m Jason, by the way," the man continues. "Didn’t really get the chance to introduce myself before."

(Name) keeps ignoring him, trying to focus, hoping silence will do the work.

"You’re (Name), right?" Jason asks, undeterred. "Listen, if it’s—"

"Fuck, can’t you just take a hint?" (Name) snaps, finally looking up. "I’m not interested. Leave me alone."

He slams the book shut and storms past him, muttering under his breath.

"What the fuck is wrong with these people..."

Jason, as (name) found out hours later still on the same day, was not easily discouraged. The teenager almost turns around and runs off when he spots him under the tree (name) he often smokes under. He stops when Jason shows him a pack of cigarettes, offering them to the teenager.

(Name) steps under the tree, accepting the pack. The two of them smoke in complete silence, staring off in the distance.

What neither of them are aware of are the people watching the scene from the surveillance cameras, deep underneath the manor. The two people were trying to understand what they just witnessed.

The teenager quietly sneaks back to the manor after his smoke break when he is ambushed by someone and dragged into one of the rooms. He tries to scream, but another person present forced something into his mouth to stop him.

(Name) looks around the room he was dragged into, trying to figure out what had happened. The space is filled with technology, most of which he wasn't sure could be used for. In front of him stood two people. He recognised one of them— Tim. He’d seen him around the manor, always behind a screen or typing something faster than seemed possible. Tim stood with his usual calm, hands lightly resting against a desk cluttered with gear, like he’d just stepped away from something important.

The other... he didn’t know. A girl, older maybe, or just more intense. She stood perfectly still, her gaze locked on him. There was something unreadable in her eyes — not cold, just sharp. She hadn’t said a word, and somehow that made her more unnerving than if she had.

(Name) looks between the two, unsure of what he should be waiting for. He watches the two of them exchange looks before sandwiching him between the two of them. It wasn’t threatening, but it was definitely strange.

"I thought we could play something," Tim said, grabbing a controller from a nearby shelf. "Oh—and that’s Cass, by the way."

(Name) glanced over at her. Cass didn’t speak, but her hands moved fluidly through the air in a series of quick, practiced motions — sign language, he realised. She was saying something to Tim.

"Ah, yeah, we should take it out," he said, reaching toward (name). With a tug, he pulled a piece of cloth from (name)’s mouth. The teenager scowled, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"Let’s play then," Tim added, handing him a controller like nothing had happened.

(Name) is suddenly thankful for Duke convincing him to play on his console some time ago. Because of this, his chances of embarrassing himself dropped rapidly.

He didn't really care for what they were playing. He focused on putting on enough effort so neither of the teenagers on his sides would notice his disinterest. (Name) was hoping that thanks to that, they would get bored of him sooner and let him leave. He had tried giving the controller to Cass, mumbling something about being tired, but the girl just shook her head, pushing it back into his hands.

After that incident, (name) started avoiding the family altogether. He spent his time either in his or Duke's room, even going as far as eating all of his meals in the confinement of his room.

He was caught once, when he was bringing the dishes back to the kitchen after lunch. Barbara's voice called out for him as he was trying to return to his room. He kept his head down, hoping to slip past unnoticed and make it back to his room.

“(Name)!” Barbara called out again.

The boy stopped in his tracks. He turned slowly to see Barbara, seated in her wheelchair a few feet away, angled just enough to block his path without making it obvious. Her tone was calm, almost friendly, and (name) couldn't figure out what she could possibly want from him.

(Name) closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Barbara gestures towards one of the couches, the smile never leaving her face. The teenager's eyes move towards the couch, noticing Cassandra sitting on it.

The teenager reluctantly moves towards the couch, sitting on it with just enough space from either of the women.

Neither of them says anything, (name) simply staring at his hands and trying to ignore Barbara and Cass. Which wasn't the easiest task, as both of them were burning holes into him with their stares. He felt trapped between them, every little movement he made under their watchful eyes feeling like it was being measured.

"Barbara! Cass! Hi! I was looking for you two!" A new voice rang out, light and cheerful. "Why are you just sitting here with him?"

He didn’t recognise it. A blonde girl bounced into view, her energy practically disrupting the tension in the room. She looked at him, then at the two women.

"Stephanie, hi," Barbara replied smoothly, turning her wheelchair slightly to face the girl. "We’re just trying to get to know our new brother."

"That’s nice," Stephanie said, though it sounded more like an automatic response than genuine interest.

(Name) didn’t wait. The second their attention shifted away from him, he moved—quick, quiet, and gone before any of them could stop him.

The teenager moves quickly, going straight to one place he knows no one would bother him in: the room Alfred is currently cleaning in. The butler gives him an odd look but doesn't say anything. Instead, he decides to comment on the current place the boy gained within the family.

"You seem to be getting along with your sibling quite well, (Name)," Alfred remarked, his voice steady but observant.

(Name) didn’t immediately respond, a forced smile tugging at his lips. It was so fake it almost stung. He didn’t have the heart to tell Alfred the truth. Not yet. Instead, he simply gave a small nod, like he was pretending everything was fine.

"Maybe you could try eating dinner with everyone?" Alfred suggested, his voice almost too casual, like he was offering something small, something harmless. "I’ll be sure there’s room for you this time."

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latteodyssey · 5 months ago

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celebrity gossip | Tim Drake x Vigilante!Reader ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: while lounging on the watchtower, you decide to comment with red robin about gotham's newest celebrity gossip. (part two of this story here!) masterlist

You’re lounging on the sofa in the Watchtower, the usual tension of crime-fighting missing in the quiet of the night. Red Robin is at the computer, eyes glued to the screen, but the city below remains disturbingly calm, the only sound filling the room was of quiet typing. It’s just the two of you for now.

“What are you doing?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“Catching up on Wayne drama,” you reply, still scrolling through your phone without looking up. The glow from the screen lights up your face, casting an eerie, almost ghostly light. “Can you believe Bruce Wayne is already on his third girlfriend this year? It's like this guy is trying to break his own personal record or something.”

“Is that, like, interesting to you?” Red Robin's tone is flat, but you can hear the curiosity in it.

“I mean, you’re from Gotham, right?” You finally glance up, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t really escape it. They make sure it’s shoved down our throats every day.”

“I’m not really into it” He tries to keep his voice monotone, as if he doesn’t care about the situation.

He’s used to the media circus, it helps him and his family, in a way. The more obnoxious the Wayne’s are, the less likely it is for the public to think they’re Gotham City’s caped crusaders. I benefited him.

Yet behind his mask, hearing you talk about it made him a little tense.

Ever since you entered the team, he’s been interested in you, hell, he was into you before that. You’ve met before, but he never expected his high school friend to become a vigilante as well, although seeing you in your superhero uniform made his heart skip a beat. Ever since then, he’s been secretly happy every time you’re paired up in missions, he treasures the moments where you two talk alone.

“I mean, they’re obviously obnoxious with the whole out-of-touch rich guy stuff.” You pause for a second “Tim is nice, though. I went to high school with him, he was pretty down-to earth. I had a massive crush on him, too.”

Red Robin freezes for a second, his fingers stilling over the keyboard. You don’t notice the slight stiffening of his posture as he processes what you said. He returns to typing on the computer, trying to regain some semblance of control.

You shrug, leaning back into the sofa as you casually reply. “He was a charming nerd with all the gadgets and the brains. He was also really kind to me, so yeah”

"He sounds nice." He forces himself to sound casual, to play it off. He cringes a bit internally, it feels strange to talk about himself like this, besides that, is it weird that he wants you to keep talking?

“Yeah, we don’t talk anymore, though,” you reply, a trace of nostalgia in your voice. "I really miss him."

Tim’s mind stirs, his fingers pausing over the keyboard again, caught in the sudden surge of emotion—maybe it’s the way your voice seemed filled with affection when you mentioned him. He takes a slow breath, trying to push the knot in his chest aside, turning around in his chair to face you, abruptly changing the subject.

"What other gossip do you have there?"

"Oh, you have no idea!" Your face lights up as you prepare to tell him every useless information you've learned in the past few hours.

And as the night stretches on, with the calm of the streets below, Tim lets himself believe that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something more.

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shan-yee · 6 months ago

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𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲

𝘑𝘶𝘯-𝘏𝘰 𝘹 𝘝𝘐𝘗!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

๏𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 = 1393

๏𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 = oral, noncon, imagine that Jun-Ho wasn’t taken away by the old man, reader is a VIP and the wife of one of the guys, the reader wears a bathrobe and underwear, blackmail, the reader always keeps her promises.

๏𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 = Jun-Ho wants informations, she has them. But nothing is free in this word.

๏𝘼/𝙉 = When « fine, i’ll do it myself » hits a little to hard. And i think that i’m getting better at writing smut-

๏𝘼/𝙉 2 = English is not my first language, please let me know if you see any mistakes ! Enjoy ✨

[̲̅t̲̅][̲̅a̲̅][̲̅g̲̅][̲̅l̲̅][̲̅i̲̅][̲̅s̲̅][̲̅t̲̅] : @zeizeisjy @fnl9zer @missroro @skywalker0809

𝘪´𝘮 𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘳𝘶𝘣 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺

—I will tell you everything you want, but first, i want you.

Her words resonated in the young policeman's head, he glanced at the remote control she held in a firm grip in her right hand and considered his options.

He could refuse and try to run away but she would set off the alarm which will let everyone know of his presence, or he could accept and she would give him everything he wants.

—Think fast pretty boy.

Jun-Ho took a deep breath and raised his arms in submission before placing his weapon on the oak desk to his right. The young woman smiled at him with a satisfied air and crossed her arms under her chest, she slowly ran her thumb over the big red button on the remote control before slipping it into one of the pockets of her bathrobe.

—Good choice, but just to be sure I'll keep that there.

She sat at the end of her bed and, silently, beckoned him to come closer, her mischievous smile reaching her ears, taunting him. Jun-Ho approached with wary and slow steps, his dark shoes clattering on the floor, near her, he placed a single knee on the ground and stared straight into her eyes. It was a kind of rebellion, a way for him to show her that even if she had him on his knee, he was not her slave and sooner or later he would regain his freedom.

[Y/N] seemed to appreciate his defiance and with her right hand she caressed his face, almost affectionately. She ran her fingertips over his jaw, delicately tracing it down to his chin, then touched his dry, pink lips before finishing her little journey on his eyebrows.

—You’re so pretty. She whispered after a few moments of intense silence.

While she had fun tracing each feature of his face, the young man had wondered how he had found himself in this situation. He had managed to slip away from the room where some VIPs were watching the fifth game take place but had to quickly hide before being noticed by a guard, which led him to enter the young woman's room.

In other circumstances he would surely have turned around when passing her in the street, in a bar, he might even have offered her a drink, if he wasn't too busy hatching a plan to find his brother.

Finally, with the tip of her thumb, she pressed on his chin, making him part his lips and slipped her tongue between them. Jun-Ho seemed surprised but feeling the young woman's nails on his neck, urging him to react, he closed his eyes and reciprocated the kiss.

He felt her breath intertwined with his, just like their tongues, and in a seconds he got caught up in this game of sensuality and his left hand slowly went up the leg of the [H/C] haired woman, from the ankle to the thigh passing through the knee. Once he reached her thigh he planted his fingers in its fat, making his partner smirk in their kiss.

Meanwhile, her fingers gripping his neck slipped through his sweat-damp hair and she passed them through his black locks with a certain tenderness.

Jun-Ho was the first to pull away to catch his breath, a light stream of saliva connecting them before it broke. The young woman smiled at him, a spark of desire shining and flickering in her [E/C] eyes.

—You’re good at kissing, let’s see if you’re good at something else.

The young man watched the VIP's fingers undo the knot that held her [F/C] bathrobe, he stared, breathless, as the fabric slid down her shoulders then spread out on the satin sheets of the bed. His eyes slowly moved up to her stomach and little by little to her chest, he admired it rising then falling with each of her inhalations, her [S/C] skin covered with a very light trickle of sweat.

Jun-Ho slightly straightened up to be face to face with her, he gave her one last disdainful look, which secretly hid another emotion, before placing light kisses on her collarbones. Little by little they descended on her chest and his tongue left a light trail of saliva mixed with her perspiration up to her sternum.

He took a moment to get used to the salty taste that came to prick his tongue before he resumed his kisses on her breasts while his hands, placed on her thighs, slided to the edges of her panties.

He took the underwear, after she lifted her butt off the bed, down her legs and let it fall to the floor. The young woman spread her thighs and he ventured between them without a word.

Their breathing quickened in unison and he felt her burning gaze on the top of his head as well as the skin on the underside of her thighs, which he held apart to have more room, heat up under his palms.

He heard the slats creak as she leaned back, her weight supported by her arms, she looked at him intently, her lips parted and impatient. Suddenly, feeling his hot, ragged, breath against her sex, she squeezed the black satin sheets before closing her eyes, her respiration hitched with apprehension since she hadn't been satisfied by a man in months.

Jun-Ho let go of one of her thighs and came to spread her intimate lips using his thumb, he observed for a few seconds before attacking her clitoris. He kissed it first before taking it between his lips and sucking gently. His black orbs observed her, admiring her face tense with pleasure.

Her reactions gave him a certain pleasure and he felt his breathing speed up as well as his hands becoming sweaty. He wanted to make her pay for this humiliation but a part of him found her sensual and seductive, perhaps without realizing it, he was enjoying it much more than he would like to admit.

Using the tip of his tongue, he made small, quick and precise circles. It didn't take long for Jun-Ho to understand what she liked, the leg of the young woman he held in his left hand beginning to tremble under his movements.

[Y/N] fell back, which surprised the police officer between her legs who followed the movement of her body and brought her pelvis closer to the edge of the bed, while letting out a small chuckle which quickly turned into moans. The back of her head sank into the covers as she bit her lower lip, trying to suppress her noises of pleasure, and quickly the fingers of her hand stretched to get lost in her partner's black locks.

She pulled lightly on it as the muscles in her lower abdomen contracted as she felt her orgasm coming. Jun-Ho seemed to understand this and his long movements became faster while two of his fingers came to venture inside her.

It only took a few movements of scissors and tongue for the knot that had formed in her stomach to explode and a long moan to echo through the room. The woman felt her eyes roll back and her thighs suddenly lock and cramp from the pleasure.

She had had many partners in her life, without her husband knowing it of course, but rare were the times when she had felt such ecstasy, not only was he handsome but his tongue was one of the best.

Jun-Ho slowly stood up, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, and retrieved his gun without taking his eyes off her. The [H/C] haired woman, after regaining her senses, stood up and gave him a confused look.

—You said you wanted me, you had me, now give me what i want.

There was a slight pregnant pause where she could observe his beautiful glistening skin under the dimly light of the room as well as a slight bulge in the chic black pants that he had stolen, finally the young rich woman started to laugh, her breathing still irregular, numb legs and wet forehead—like her inner thighs—.

—Alright pretty boy, give me your number and I will send you every proof I have.

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