#shame the only thing inside it is Evil

[fjordfolk]

i think shelties should be outcrossed to fox terriers specifically to make them Worse

[shift-shaping]

very funny when someone who tries to tell you porn addiction is real is already marked with shinigami eyes. like oh really? i never would have guessed a transphobe would buy multiple strains of fundamentalist christian propaganda. anyway

like i cannot stress enough that porn addiction is a fake thing made up by fundamentalists to make you demonize sex. it is not a real thing. you can have all manner of compulsions, sure, but a porn compulsion is no more harmful than a compulsion to doomscrolling or washing your hands or brushing your teeth. which is to say, it's not great to have a compulsion at all, but a compulsion to pornography is not uniquely concerning in and off itself.

research on this subject is very clear that porn and porn consumption itself is not the issue. what causes distress and shame is the culture surrounding porn and the way our society demonizes people for normal sexual feelings.

porn is morally neutral. you are not a bad person for enjoying porn. the real-life porn industry is a shitshow, but there are many ways to enjoy pornography that are entirely harmless. support your favorite independent porn producers.

[triglycercule]

i love doodling swapinverse like hello drawing characters aside from the normal mtt is lowkey therapeutic 🧡🧡🧡 anyways i FINALLY FINALLY finished crash's lore!!!! and vice.SER is connected to him,,,, theyre interconnected!!! i forgot how much i liked crash's design (not the design but all the little gimmicks in the design. figuring out all the hanging ribbon bits is annoying but hey it looks good)

[weareuniqueandimportant]

HAVE FUN... YOU ARE A BIGOT... THAT STRATEGY CAN'T WORK WE'RE POWERFULL... OH... YOU... YOU WERE ALWAYS EVIL... WE WERE ALWAYS HURT BY YOU... ERASE OUR PAIN THAT IS WHAT YOU'VE ALWAYS DONE... THAT DOESN'T END WHO WE ARE... NOBODY CAN ERASE THAT... NOBODY HAS BEEN ABLE TO... DESPITE TRYING... AND NOBODY EVER CAN... THERE IS ONLY 1 THING THAT CAN DEFEAT US... ARE YOU A R*PIST THAT BAD...? YOU ARE...? UP TO THE GAME...? I SEE... I ALWAYS KNEW THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED... OUR LIFE HOWEVER IS ALWAYS ABOUT US... YOU CAN'T DO A THING... THAT IS EVIL... UNACCEPTABLE... CRIMINAL... IN OUR SOCIETY ONLY WE HAVE RIGHTS THEREFORE WE AND ONLY WE ARE PROTECTED UNDER SUCH CASES... UNLESS WE LIKE YOU... THIS HAS ALWAYS BEEN WHAT IS LOGICAL... EMBRACE PSYCHOSIS HOWEVER... IF THAT PISSES YOU SO <3...

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

toji is okay with you not making eye-contact with him during sex because he knows that you're just overwhelmed, right? it's because he simply loves to feel your lips against his skin when you hide your face in the crook of his neck because that's how he knows he's taking good care of you, right?

fuck no.

those are not the only reasons.

if you look toji in the eyes while he's fucking you, he will cream his pants like a fucking teenager who's just seen a pair of tits for the first time.

when he has you on your back with your heels digging into his lower back and with your hands clawing at your back, his own arms barely supporting his body as he sinks into you; you look beautiful like this – a layer of sweat covers your body and he thinks about licking it all up, your bitten lips are parted and the sounds that spill from you cloud toji's mind like a drug. you're writhing and you're squirming, squeezing around his cock so tight that he feels like he's about to pass out.

and then... your eyes.

eyebrows scrunched together, you stare up at him and toji thinks he's going to die instead. tears brim in the corners while your pupils are blown wide, a mix of pleasure and adoration swimming in the dark orbs as he brings you closer and closer to another high. oh, he thinks you look like a fucking painting. like you belong in a museum.

the way you're looking at him is making his cock twitch inside you and that in turn makes you blink at him. you flutter your eyelashes while pressing your heels deeper into his back, silently begging for more.

"f-fuck..."

toji's head falls as he squeezes his own eyes shut. he feels like he's on fire. he feels like he's about to fucking explode. he's going to cum just because you're looking at him with nothing else but love in your eyes. he feels stupid for it – a little embarrassed that such a simple thing is getting to him so easily, but when he feels your hand on his jaw, cradling him like he's something that could break – the shame fades.

the combination of meeting your gaze once again, the care in them, and the love you offer him, makes the knot in his belly snap.

you caress his cheek as you hold your eyes on him, eager to watch him unfold in front of you. a fucked out smile makes its way to your lips and toji's heart skips a beat at the sight. he's never felt weaker, he's never felt more loved. oh, you're something alright.

he also can't handle your eyes whenever you're giving him head. he simply cannot do it. he does love watching you, he really fucking loves it – how you screw your eyes shut, your eyebrows furrowing as you concentrate on your breathing. how the drool pools in the corners of your mouth and how it dribbles down your chin. how your whole body twitches when you gag around him. how small your hand looks on him, how you massage his heavy balls. how pretty you look while doing it all – he's obsessed.

but the second you open your eyes and look back up at him... he's throwing his head back and hiding behind his arm. and while the view of his neck does get you to rub your own thighs together in want – it's not enough.

you want more.

taking your lips off his cock and ignoring the line of spit that connects you to it, you patiently wait for him to look at you. you even stop jerking him off, just resting your hand around his base. his dick twitches and another glob of pre-cum trickles from his tip.

"toji?"

your voice is as sweet as ever and he knows it's a trap. he grumbles back at you in hopes of convincing you to continue, but he's wrong. merely giving his base a squeeze, you watch how the older man buck his hips into your fist.

"look at me."

he won't, he won't, he won't. you're evil, you're awful, you wish to torture him until he dies. this is how it all ends for him. he won't.

"please..."

his balls twitch and his his body burns. he needs to cum so fucking bad but he hates looking like an actual old man, who can't keep his shit together.

"look at me, baby."

it's more of a demand now and he can't resist you. he never has and he never will. whatever you say goes – if you tell him to jump off a damn cliff, he will do so. if you want to break him just like you're doing right this moment, then so be it. he's all yours.

his arm falls from in front of his face and his green eyes crack open to the most glorious sight in the world. you look completely fucked out and your hair is a mess, your lips and your chin are all covered in spit and he thinks of you as an angel of some sort.

you give him a smile and his hips buck into your fist again, but you don't tease him for it – you want him to feel good. so you press a kiss to his sticky tip as you hold his lust-filled gaze and it's enough for him to blow his load all over your gorgeous face.

you lap at his tip like a kitten, collecting the few drops that threaten to escape while still pumping him with your one hand and massaging his balls with the other. toji grips the sheets below with both his hands – his fingers tug at the material so hard that they almost rip but neither of you care.

you worshipping his cock, or better yet worshipping him, is baffling to him. but he's not complaining. you take him into your mouth again, eyes still on his, you wrap your lips wrap around his tip and push him into overstimulation.

curses tumble from his scarred lips like they're the only words he knows and you can't help but smile while still having him him in your mouth. you're covered in his cum and now you're fucking grinning up at him – he really does think he's about to pass away. there's no way this is real, that you're not something his mind conjured up to plague him with. your hands feel godly and your mouth feels so fucking warm. no, this is it – he's officially dying.

taking your lips off of him with a pop, your smile widens even more as you give him an 'ahhh!' as if you've just had the best meal of your life and toji doesn't waste a second before pushing off the bed.

"fuck, come here."

his knees hit the floor with a thud as he lunges at you like a starved beast. he grabs your cheeks and pulls you toward him, smashing his lips to yours in a desperate kiss. he needs to feel you, he needs to taste you. he needs to love you.

he needs to give you his all.

[yanderenightmare]

Ryomen Sukuna

TW: NSFW, noncon, virgin reader, corruption kink, Sukuna in general

fem reader

Thinking about Demon King Sukuna and how he receives a virgin for his harem every new moon. Most are unfortunate townspeople who’ve come of age—but you’re something he can savor even more, something truly special.

The silk kimono you’d been dressed in is easily ripped from your body, leaving you bare. You’d been warned not to fight or run, that he’d only sooner kill and eat you—but you keep your faith and try and escape anyway. 

All your life, the temple has taught you of Ryomen Sukuna—that he’s a harbinger of carnage and death. You’d feel better offering your life to the Gods than allowing it to remain captive by the likes of evil.

He only grabs and manhandles you with nothing more but a sadistic laugh, catching your hair in a fist as he pulls you up until only the tips of your toes are left grazing the floors—and even then, he has to bow nearly half his length before he’s leveling your eyes with his.

“My patience is a fickle thing, turtledove. Run again, and I’ll treat it like a real hunt. Which would be a real shame… I so hate spilling holy blood before I’ve made it filthy with sin.”

You're thrown onto a large round bed next. It catches you with a bounce while he crawls after you, taking hold of both your ankles and swiftly pulling you beneath him. 

His chest is marked with demonic seals, and so is his face, where he looms above you with a deranged smile. Raking his claws up your legs and thighs, he spreads and pushes them flat against the bed while his other two hold your crying face, cupping your cheeks with both thumbs hooking into the wet of your mouth, playing with your tongue as you sob. When he shows you his and its black markings, you scream, feeling as though he’s pouring poison down your throat as he feeds you its length and knots it with yours.

You choke and sob while you share each other’s spit, feeling tarnished and forsaken by all that you held sacred—wondering why the heavens would allow this to happen as the weight of his manhood finds rest between your thighs, upon your mound and tummy, where it grows fat and warm.

His hands leave your face and switch places with the other two, freeing them for what he plans on doing next. Wrapping one around himself, he gives it languid tugs while soaking in the sight of your poor little cunt trembling in fear of something it only barely knows what is. His other hand pets it soothingly in mockery, tickling the slit, making you shake.

His stomach then splits open like a cut, baring teeth and a tongue that only earns your horrified expression—crying as it drools over you, jutting out to lick the tender place you so wished had remained untouched. You whine in shudders as he squeezes your throat and bares down over you, staring at you with keen bromine eyes, amused with your fall from grace as you come undone.

“You taste sweet,” he moans against your lips while his other mouth slurps at your core, also groaning.

You’re naïve for thinking it’s over where you blink away tears, but he doesn’t blame you. They never teach you the truth in temples, only childish lies that leave you ever vulnerable to the outside world and ever sweeter for him to ruin.

“I apologize for clipping your wings, angel. But I must say… depravity suits you better.”

Nothing. Not a prayer or plea leaves your lips as he tears through and fills you up. Only a choked gasp that dies midway. You bite into your lip, squeezing your eyes shut—ready to accept a death that never comes. Instead, there’s a living hell, and you can only scream as it consumes you.

Your whimpering is delicious, caught beneath him, panting every time his hips snap forth and storm your clingy insides, gushing for him like he knew you would be—sweetly surrendering all your worship to him and honoring him as your new god.

Perhaps he won’t feast on your flesh once he’s done as cute as you are. He wouldn’t mind keeping you around for a bit. Teach you how to serve him properly. Paint you with his seals. Make you his favorite pet.

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

QUEEN’S THRONE. 18+

pairing. bucky barnes x fem!reader

> the first image has no implication of readers skin tone, the picture itself has the feel of the fic!!

word count. 2041

summary. you have been feeling insecure and been nitpicking yourself apart. bucky notices and shows you how much he loves your body by asking you to sit on his face

warnings. 18+ only!! reader is feeling insecure within her body and weight, descriptions involving self doubts, little bit of body worship, cunnilingus, face sitting, bucky being a munch and cuming untouched. minors dni

based on this request

No one ever really prepares you for how difficult it is to like yourself, to find parts of your body you don't hate. To not tear yourself apart over things you deem ugly or heinous. 

There's no manual you get for counteracting these doubts in your mind. You're supposed to trick yourself into thinking otherwise - to deceive the mistrust in your brain. But sometimes, the lies you tell yourself to feel better have no effect on you - the affirmations you repeat in rituals feeling like robotic words from self-help blogs. 

You stand naked in front of the full-length mirror in your room, towel on the floor pooled around your ankles. Damp strings of hair collecting on your shoulders, the almost dry strands indicating the time you've stood looking at yourself.

The skin under your eyes soaked with tears, flesh sore and tender from the last near twenty minutes of picking yourself apart. Your gaze hones in on yourself in the mirror, looking at the reflection of your thighs, mindlessly staring at the chub you consider ugly.

Your eyes sadly trail up to your stomach, taking note of the wideness of your hips and patches of stretch marks that litter those areas. Seeing yourself in the reflection after a day of feeling bad about yourself was not a healthy coping mechanism, nor was it one you would encourage - but there was just something inside of you, something inside your brain telling you to nitpick your 'problem' areas. 

It was like there was an evil little gremlin in your mind that made things worse for yourself. That made you give in to the doubts and insecurities - that made you believe them.

Sometimes, you had a better hold on that gremlin, quietening that voice with your own, but on others, like today, that was not the case. You had a difficult day, feeling like a sore thumb everywhere you went - feeling like you stood out in all the worst ways. But that was not the truth - the people you passed on the street were too preoccupied with their own spiral of doubt and shame to even notice your 'problem' areas. 

But, right now, you had no space left for rationality - that loud, pitiful voice overshowing the logical parts of your brain.

You hear a light knock on the door, the sound snapping you out of thought. 

"You've been in there a while. Everything okay?" your boyfriend, James, calls out, his tone soft. 

You clear your throat and grab an oversized tee - throwing on the closest one you can find. "Yeah, out in a minute," you reply, evening your voice to avoid detection. 

"Mind if I come in. Need to grab something," Bucky asks, words muffling behind the closed door.

You hesitate momentarily. "Okay."

The door opens, and Bucky steps into the room, eyes immediately landing on the back of you - head cocking to the side suspiciously. He picks up a t-shirt he pretended to need and walks around the bed to you on the other side - standing beside you as you look out the window. 

"What you looking at?" he asks, subtly scoping you out. 

"Just been looking at the moon," you lie, nodding to the silver crescent in the night sky.

Though he doesn't believe you, keeping his eyes on you as you try to redirect his attention. He extends his neck, reaching his head out to see more than just the side of your face - to see the giveaway he knew was there.

He twists you around more to look at him, making you show your face that you've been trying to hide. His eyes land on yours momentarily before you divert them away, turning from his gaze almost shamefully. He takes note of the sore under your eyes, how they look damp and swollen - how tired you look.

"What's the matter? What's wrong?" he asks, worry evident in his voice. "What's the matter?" he repeats quieter, features softening as he looks at you.

"Nothing," you shrug, turning away from him. "Probably just tired," you partially lie.

He parts focus from you and begins to place together the pieces you weren't willing to share. He glances around the room until he lands on the mirror, the towel on the floor confirming his theory. 

Poking his neck out, trying to meet your gaze again, he calls your name - trying to refocus you.

"You have to stop doing that to yourself," he murmurs, twisting you around to him for the final time. "You're so mean to yourself, and you don't deserve it," he softly shakes his head, reinforcing his words. 

"I wasn't doing that," you reply, bottom lip beginning to tremble with your lie. "I don't do— I don't do that anymore."

His head tilts to the side, not believing you. "Honey," he coos, drawing out the term of endearment as he brings you in for a hug - wrapping you up in an embrace. 

"I don't," you continue, voice almost breaking. "I don't," you repeat, shaking your head softly in the crook of his neck. 

"Okay," he hums, brushing comforting strokes up your back, soothing you. "I know," he murmurs.

He holds you like that, large hands engulfing the middle of your back, caressing you with delicate touch and waiting for you to pull away. 

"I'm sorry," you sniffle, backing away as you wipe your nose on your hand. "I'm being stupid," you shrug with a weak smile, self-depreciation creeping in.

Bucky shakes his head firmly, a soft furrow of his brows indicating his distaste for the topic. He extends his hands to your face, placing palms over your cheeks - stilling your face and making you look at him. "Stop it," he scolds, voice warm and gentle. His hands secure on your face, eyes boring into yours. "You have to stop doing that."

You sigh, a slow, uneasy exhale leaving your lips as if to steady yourself.

"I think you're perfect," he whispers, pressing a kiss onto your cheek - absorbing the tear from your skin. "I wish you could see it too."

His hands leave the placement on your cheeks, moving down to rest on your hips over your tee. One flesh, one metal sitting on the curve. He keeps his eyes locked on you, looking for signs of discomfort, only to find none - your gaze trusting and enamoured. 

Bending at the knee in front of you and at eye level with your 'problem' areas, he glides his hands up your outer thighs - palms running over them intently. He keeps his eyes locked on your upper legs, watching the soft jiggle of the chub - utterly captivated by their beautiful shape.

He hesitantly runs his hands higher and towards your hips, forearms catching on the hem of your t-shirt, rising and revealing your bare pussy underneath. He inhales harshly, the lewd sight of you mere inches away from your face. 

He presses soft kisses over your plump thighs, almost worshipping you - on his knees, kissing parts of you he adores most. He glances up to meet your gaze, your eyes already locked on him.

His kisses trail higher, lining up the crease between cunt and thigh, working up the cute swell of your tummy. "You're beautiful," he murmurs,

words muffling into your hip. "And so perfect."

You rake your fingers into his hair, softly stroking his scalp - all thoughts from earlier dissipating slowly, everything feeling inconsequential with your pretty boyfriend on his knees between your legs.

"Sit on my face," he mutters, pulling away from your stomach to look up at you. "I want you on my face."

Your half-lidden eyes fling open, shock almost slapping you across the face. "What?" you question, gently tugging Bucky's head away from your tummy. "No," you shake your head. "I'll hurt you."

He faintly chuckles as he stands, leaning back onto the mattress. "You won't," he smiles, resting his head on the pillows behind, getting comfortable. "Come on," he nods you over, beckoning you to your throne. 

"I don't know," you reply sheepishly, glancing over him.

"You don't have to sit— just hover."

You step closer and kneel on the bed, pausing like you're debating yourself. "I don't want to squash you."

"You won't," he shakes his head, his expression eager. "Just... come on."

With a gentle sigh and a nod, you crawl up the bed, scooching along the mattress on your knees until you're beside his head. You grip the headboard for support as you lift a leg, placing it on the other side of his head, situating yourself in a hover over his face. 

"I don't want to hurt you— please tell me if I do," you worry, lifting the hem of your t-shirt to get a better look at him below.

"Promise," he says lowly, placing his hands on the swell of your thighs, slowly guiding your pussy closer.

He lays his tongue flat against the slit of your cunt, an immediate pleased hum muffling into your folds. The warm contact of his tongue makes your thighs tremble and breath hitch, everything feeling new from this heightening position. 

With light pressure, he swipes through your pussy lips, tongue lapping you in a leisure rhythm as the tip of his nose bumps at your clit.

His palms graze over your thighs, reaching up to the crease where he can get a hold of you and push you down onto his face. But you notice his pawing and swat his hands off - raising yourself back into a hover and lifting further away.

Bucky doesn't let you go far before he's pushing you back down, a firm grip on your waist keeping you still. "Stay," he muffles into your cunt, caressing it with slow, sloppy kisses.

He laps at your pussy, burying his tongue further into the wet warmth of you - repeated pleasure-filled groans vibrating against you as you give into the bliss. You finally allow yourself to enjoy the moment without doubt getting in the way - all worry slowly being replaced by euphoria as you sink further onto his face.

Meeting his gaze over the top of your pussy, he gives you a wink - the act like silent praise, him voicelessly applauding you for tuning out the voice in your head. 

With one hand on the headboard, you dip the other down, circling the ache in your clit a few times before moving into the short, dark brown hairs at the top of his head. Tugging on his hair as if you're holding him there.

His grip on your waist trails down, moving back to the plush of your thighs where he squeezes - fingers digging into the doughy flesh. He holds you there, muffling moans against your folds as he coats the insides of his boxers in a sheen of his cum - the taste and feel of you alone, enough to send him over the edge.

You twist your neck, looking over your shoulder to the tented cock in his sweats, his head protruding through the wet patch of where he just came. A breath gets caught in your throat at the lewd image, and it all begins to feel like too much, all your senses consumed in the feeling.

With the knot tightening in your tummy, you feel yourself grow closer to the edge - the soft jerk of your hips indicating the closeness of your climax. Within moments, you're cuming on Bucky's tongue, whining broken and spluttered noises into the air.

He continues to hold you there, making out with your cunt through your orgasm - lapping up everything that seeped out. Letting you smear your juices on the bottom half of his face.

You lift your leg from the other side of his head, moving from his face and flopping backwards onto the bed. Laying heads and tails, completely spent. 

But Bucky follows after you - not letting you get far. And before you have a second to process it, he's back between your legs, lips kissing at the soft plush of your inner thighs.

Poking his head up to look at you, he asks. "One more?"

[visionsofmagic]

✧˚ · . mk1 men with villain!reader [bubbles] ˚ · .

tomas, kuai liang, bi han, raiden, liu kang, johnny cage, kung lao, syzoth, shang tsung

—⭒ intro. dialogues, fluff, spicy, crush!mk1 men, crush!reader, pet names, hurt/comfort, flirting, power play, 's all? �� came to my mind & I wanted to write but it's my first time to write this kind of work [intro. dialogues], so, take easy on me please. enjoy!

y/n: oh hi pretty boy! already missed me? tomas: what would I miss? you tried to rip my heart last time we met!

y/n: c’mon tomas, be a good boy for me and maybe I will let you come and take a look up close. tomas: I prefer not to get so close y/n. I don’t want to end up like the last time.

tomas: it's tragic to see you as an enemy of mine, y/n. I wish we met before all the bad things happened in your life. y/n: don't, tomas, don't give me hope of having someone who understands me truly.

kuai liang: don’t play with me, y/n. y/n: what would you do? burn me alive? well, that kinda sounds sexy.

y/n: well well, it's good to see my favorite boy. kuai liang: favorite boy to kiss or kill?

kuai liang: you should join me y/n. together we can protect the earthrealm. y/n: it’s a bit sad how you chose to protect it when you can simply - burn it to the ground.

bi han: you were so much more fearful in my dreams. y/n: you dreamt about me? oh, so cute!

y/n: c’mon ice boy, I bet you need someone to warm your bed. bi han: I take this as an invitation, y/n. are you so needy for me?

bi han: together we can reach the power we need. y/n: baby, I can’t decide which version of you is sexier; evil or good boy. so, I would say; both.

liu kang: don’t play with this timeline, y/n. keep still. be good for once. y/n: but where is the fun in that?!

liu kang: for what you have done, I should punish you. y/n: it sounds kind of hot when you say it like that fire god.

y/n: I bet you would look so good on your knees before me. liu kang: you always have a side that is hungry for power, aren't you, y/n?

raiden: I wish you were on our side, y/n. y/n: it’s not my way to be a gentle farmer boy. I like it rough.

y/n: oh, is that blush on your pretty face? raiden: don’t even start again!

raiden: liu kang says we once were lovers - in previous timelines. y/n: you sound excited raiden. it’s a matter of time before we become one in this too.

johnny cage: oh, where have you come from? hell? because you’re burning like one! y/n: after this fight, I will not be the only one who’s burning, cage.

y/n: no one can replace me, so, I can choose to play in your movie, johnny. johnny cage: really?! baby, you even deserve your own movie! with me, as your partner.

johnny cage: you have all villain types baby; power, rage, a bit of sexy energy. y/n: and you have everything to be thankful that I will go easy on you, star boy.

kung lao: you should be on our side, miss. y/n: it’s boring, but I can let you be on mine farmer boy.

y/n: I like your hat much more now. how about we make a good use of it? in bed. kung lao: oh, right? thank you for the - wait, what?!

kung lao: liu kang warned us about you; about how bloodthirsty you can be. y/n: you shouldn't worry too much cutie, I will be gentle with you.

y/n: can you really shape-shift into a human and a reptile? it’s fascinating! can I have a close look? syzoth: don't even think about it y/n. the last time's marks are still on my tail.

syzoth: why do you keep fighting with me? y/n: because I wanna see the beast inside you. it’s mesmerizing.

y/n: you should be my assistant instead of milena’s. we can have so much fun together. syzoth: a voice in me says that the fun you refer to is not what I think it is.

y/n: don’t think I am at your side shang tsung. it’s just business. shang tsung: such a shame my lady. we could have been a great couple.

shang tsung: I wonder what you looked like in previous timelines, darling. y/n: curiosity killed the cat, sorcerer. focus on me instead.

y/n: you know, I kinda like seeing you on your knees shang tsung. no one can even guess how pathetic you’re for me. shang tsung: I don’t care my love. satisfying you is my priority.

💛

[allur1ngs]

✮ see no evil, hear no evil ✮

TW: unedited, smut (dom & top!bada, sub & bottom!reader, teasing, strap usage–r!receiving, reader tries to ride bada’s strap for a bit before bada takes control, bada is very cocky in this one…idk mafia bada is just always so cocky to me during sex, bada’s strap is referred to as a cock/dick, exhibitionism, bada doesn’t receive again, sorry…, erm… dumbification, hyo hears you and bada fucking two times, she will never rest…), italicized words with quotes around them in this fic indicate a thought, and in a long block of text indicate a flash back, the picture in the middle purely for aesthetics/a visual aid and not meant to represent reader’s skin tone or body type!! this is entirely canon divergent and not a part of the mafia au timeline!!!!!!!!!!! if you want to read the canon version of this scenario, read this

SUMMARY: hyo will always be a dedicated bodyguard. she takes pride in the fact that she is able to stay by your side each day, and protect you. the only downside? she has to exercise immense amounts of self-restraint when she stands outside your bedroom or office door, and hears bada fucking you.

WC: 5.6k

A/N: an anon asked it so we did it!! a collab w my wife @bebeyue, make sure to read her continuation of this by clicking the three ellipsis at the end of this fic (this is a threat)!!!! this is the only time i’m cosigning on any form of hyo content–i make exceptions for aeri–so enjoy this one piece!! (ps. pls do not send any requests for hyo–i’m only writing for bada!!) but besides that, again, this is a “behind the scenes” of this drabble, but uses this fic as an opening, pls enjoy!!

DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada or team bebe’s actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!

Kim Hyo is a diligent bodyguard, and no one can deny that fact. Although Bada may at times nitpick at things she does, she can’t dismiss Hyo’s commitment to her job as your bodyguard. Through thick and thin, she’s been there, watching over you. Early mornings and late nights, her presence is never far.

Take, for instance, the current situation unfolding between you, Bada, and Hyo.

"I'm starting to think you really do want us to get caught." Bada’s voice comes from inside her office, and leaks into the hallway. Coincidently, you’d accidentally left the door open when you entered to hand your faincée her glasses. Now that accident left you in a rather compromising position.

Hyo stands outside Bada’s office, her back against the wall as your fiancée eats you out and toys with you. She’s not exactly sure what is specifically happening inside but from the sounds of moans, you’re enjoying what Bada is doing to you.

"I-I don't." You answer your fiancée’s prior statement, a hint of shame creeping into your voice.

"There you go again," Bada says, tapping her tongue against the roof of her mouth in displeasure. 

Hyo hears a shuffling sound and then another moan rings out from the office, this time the sound is significantly louder–she lets out a sharp breath and clutches her hands tightly together in front of her, struggling to keep up her professionalism. 

"Do you enjoy lying to me?" Bada continues.

Trying to distract herself, Hyo forces herself to think of something else. “What are we having for dinner tonight–” She begins a thought, but it’s interrupted by the sound of Bada’s stern voice speaking up again.

"Should I make you cum like this? Make you fucking cum all over your panties as punishment?"

“No.” You squeak, "Please--"

“The Boss is being very stern this time.” Hyo finally manages to collect herself enough to think a clear, coherent thought. “The last time this happened–” Her thought is interrupted by another that invades her mind. 

“Be honest, you like that type of stuff–” Tatter’s amused voice echoes in your bodyguard’s mind, her entire body going rigid.

“Fuck.” She mentally curses, closing her eyes behind her sunglasses. “It’s not like that–” Despite what fibs Hyo may try to convince herself of, the mind never lies. It is the truest and most honest representation of thought.

So it’s natural that Hyo thinks of the night prior to this most recent excursion between you and Bada, when you’d engaged in such activities.

The day had begun normally, much like today had, until certain events led your bodyguard to a cruel fate.

3 days earlier

Standing on the steps of the Lee mansion, you beckon over your wife. “Come here,” you say, voice brimming with excitement.

Bada, who’d just spoken to Hyo, and asked her to bring around her Porsche 918 Spyder, turns to look up at you standing on the second step of the stairs toward the open driveway. “Coming.” She says, dismissing Hyo as she ascends the steps in your direction. When she reaches the step you’re standing on, positions herself behind you and starts to trail kisses up and down your neck. “Have I told you that you look beautiful? I love this dress…”

“You’ve only told me five times already.” You laugh while reaching into the pockets of your dress–a feature that you reverently appreciate–to pull out your phone. “But thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” She mumbles into your skin, dragging her nose up and down while continuing to press heated, wet kisses on the crook of your neck.

“Bada, I want to take a picture.” You huff, trying to focus on opening the camera app on your phone.

“Take one then, I’m not stopping you.” She replies, never slowing down her sweet assault on your neck. 

“I can’t when you’re kissing me.” You argue back lightheartedly.

“Just angle the phone so I’m not in frame–”

Not convinced, you gently shy away from Bada’s lips. “I’ll let you give me kisses after I’ve taken the picture. Just two seconds, alright?”

“Fine.” Your fiancée pouts as she wraps her right arm under your boobs, unintentionally making them pop.

You barely notice as you lean back into her chest and hold up your phone, closing your eyes and smiling for the picture. But Bada does. She sees the way the skin of your tits shine in the low light, and how the picture looks incredibly intimate, like it’s something not meant to be seen by foreign eyes. She leans in, completely entranced by the photo, and your reflection–

The moment slips away like a gentle whisper in the breeze as you slowly open your eyes and your smile widens at the picture. You don’t comment on the nature of the photo, only saying, “It’s so cute, I have to post it on Instagram!” Which you quickly do, all the while Bada remains silent, moving her head back into the crook of your neck.

The kisses she’d given you prior, although passionate, are nothing compared to the heat with which she charges the kisses she places on your skin now. She uses just the tip of her tongue and drags it across your neck, which makes you freeze, and a puff of air leave your lips.

“Maybe we should stay in.” She whispers between kisses.

“Bada, you made reservations.” You mumble, bringing your hand up to the side of her head, clutching onto strands of her long, black and white striped hair. At the same time, Hyo pulls up in the Porsche. She parks it right in front of you both, then turns to face you, but when she catches sight of the intimate moment you two are sharing, she instantly faces forward and clears her throat. She tries to make it seem like she’s not listening to what either of you are saying, but your close proximity makes it almost impossible. 

“Fuck the reservations,” Bada says into your skin, winding her other arm around your midsection–again making your tits pop out. “It’s been a while since we had sex.”

“Bada, Hyo is here with the car.” You whisper, using weak force to pull on Bada’s hair in an attempt to pull her off of your neck.

You succeed, but your fiancée is displeased. “So?”

“So,” you give Bada an astonished glance, “she can hear and see us–”

“She’s not even looking our way.” Bada points at Hyo, who’s scrolling through her photo albums, trying to busy herself. “She’s on her phone–” Your fiancée suddenly frowns, pressing you closer to her chest. “Hyo, why are you looking at your phone?”

Your bodyguard instantly sits up and snaps her head in Bada’s direction, looking like she’s about to break out in a cold sweat. “Sorry Boss, I was just…uh–”

“Oh stop picking on her.” You gently swat at your fiancée’s arm and break away from her hold, quickly grabbing her hand and practically dragging her forward. “Let’s just go and eat dinner like we’d planned–”

Although you’re not able to see, Bada sends Hyo a look that screams, “You ruined my plans,” as you force her into the car.

Hyo gulps, moving to face forward and placing her hands on the wheel of the car.

Yeah, she’s in for it.

The rest of the night surprisingly goes without a hitch after that. After leaving the Lee mansion, Hyo had proceeded to drive you two to the La Yeon, an upscale restaurant that serves traditional Korean cuisine, and only caters forty guests at a time. Bada had reserved a private room for you both to dine, so naturally Hyos stood outside as watch, only hearing small noises from your lively chatter.

But the real hell began on the car ride back to the Lee mansion. 

The three of you had been sitting in a peaceful silence when you suddenly spoke up, curiosity striking you, "Just how much did you have to pay for the private room we ate in?"

Bada nonchalantly shrugs, "Not much."

"Somehow, I doubt that," you banter. 

Bada shifts her gaze from staring straight ahead to glance at you. "Well, it wasn't much for me."

"Ah, that makes more sense," you nod, releasing a small laugh. "But you know, you don't have to take me to fancy restaurants. I'd be happy to spend time with you, no matter where we do it."

Your fiancée shakes her head, "I don't take you out of obligation. I do so because I love you. I want you to experience establishments that are worthy of your presence."

Turning your attention to Bada, you gaze at her through the barely-lit car. Her eyes reflect deep sincerity, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Bada... I'm just a woman—"

"You're not just a woman," she interrupts, her eyes stern yet holding glints of love behind the firmness. "You are my woman. My fiancée. What kind of spouse would I be if I didn't treat you?"

Bada's passionate gaze makes you turn away, your hand ghosting over your mouth as you grow bashful. "You can't just say things like that," you whisper, your voice meek and soft.

"Why? Does hearing how much I love you make you nervous?" Bada laughs, amused by your reaction.

"I just..." you trail off, struggling to find words to express your feelings. "I love you." Those three words are the only way to convey the warmth coursing through your body.

Bada smiles softly, grabbing your hand which you’d positioned in your lap. "I love you more."

You intertwine your fingers with hers, observing the way she affectionately runs her thumb over the gem on your engagement ring. "But you know," you suddenly add, prompting your wife to look up from your joined hands to meet your gaze. "you could have mentioned we were going to a Michelin-star restaurant. I felt a bit underdressed..." Your eyes shift down to the silky white dress you're wearing. While undeniably elegant, its somewhat scandalous design features thin straps supporting a teardrop-shaped neckline that accentuates your boobs, which gracefully twists into the bodice and tapers into the gown's lower hem.

"Underdressed?" Bada says incredulously. "You look absolutely beautiful–"

"All the other women were wearing name brands and elegant dresses–" you protest, but are cut off.

"What does it matter what they were wearing?" Bada furrows her eyebrows, genuinely confused by your words. “You could walk into this restaurant in your pajamas, and you’d still outshine every single one of those women.”

You let out a sharp breath, smiling shyly. “There you go again. I think you enjoy making me flustered.”

“If you’ve just barely realized that, I clearly have not been doing my job.” Bada laughs, gently squeezing your hand, which still remains in her grasp. “By the way, I thought I had thoroughly expressed how much I love the way you look, earlier.”

A fire lights in your stomach as you glance at her. “Well…”

“I really am not doing my job, am I?” Bada uses her unoccupied hand to gently touch the side of your face, and leans in. “I’ll just have to show you how beautiful you look in this dress.”

That last sentence sealed Hyo’s fate. She continued to drive as you let out small giggles, and Bada whispered things in your ear. What exactly she said, Hyo doesn’t want to imagine.

Upon arrival at the Lee mansion, you and Bada are a mess of scandalous whispers, and chuckles as you both ascend up the steps, your bodyguard lagging behind to park the car. But it seems you two are far too excited to keep your hands off each other, because when Hyo walks toward the Lee mansion steps after returning the Porsche to the garage, you’re both nowhere to be found. Your bodyguard rushes up the steps, mumbling curse words under her breath as she opens the door and races up the mansion’s winding staircase, heading toward the only place you must be, your shared bedroom. 

When she makes it there, she instantly walks to the right side of the door, her back up against the wall. She lets out a small sigh of relief, glad that Bada was too busy to tell her off for lagging behind. 

But then she hears it, a small sound, simple and tiny, innocent. 

“Bada!” You squeal, while a creaking sound barely reaches Hyo’s ears. It sounds like you’d been thrown onto the bed.

Inside the bedroom, Bada moves to hover above you, planting either of her arms beside your head. She smirks down at you, her eyes sweeping over every sliver of your skin that’s available to her prying eyes. She leans in to rub her nose against yours cutely, watching how you crinkle yours and smile out of instinct. “You’re fucking adorable.” Bada breathes, then places a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I love you.” You whisper when she pulls away.

“I love you more.” She whispers back, moving her hand to grab at one of the straps of your dress. She thumbs at the silk until she slowly begins to move the strap down your shoulder, the movement so light a shiver runs up your spine as you watch her. When she fully slips down the strap of the dress, your bare tit is exposed to the cold air, which makes your nipple pebbling because of the sudden temperature difference. “No bra?” Bada presses her thumb against your nipple, starting to trace delicate, mithodical circles to the sensitive bud.

“The fabric is thicker than it looks–” You breathe, but the words die on your lips as your fiancée moves to drag the other strap of your dress down. Now both of your tits are exposed to Bada’s hungry eyes.

“I really love this dress.” She grabs either side of your boobs, pushing them together to oggle the way your flesh meets to make a tantilizing image. The soft skin of your tits glows in the light, and the way your nipples continue to pebble because of the cold has Bada captivated.

“I think you should take it off me.” You say coquettishly. 

Bada stares at you for a moment with an excused expression before she releases your tits and sits up. “Actually, I had different plans for you.” She steps away from the bed, making her way to the dresser beside it before opening the bottom drawer. You turn your head to the side to watch with a confused expression, but what she pulls out from the drawer makes you smile.

Bada takes out a bottle of lube and her long, black strap, glancing at you from the corner of her eyes to see you carefully studying her every move with excitement in your eyes. “Looking forward to it, are we?” She remarks.

“Should I not be?” You flip over onto your stomach, placing your head in the palm of your hand as Bada begins to take off her dress pants and shirt. Like always, she only has her boxers and her bra on while she puts on her strap.

“Do you need help?” You pipe up.

Bada looks up and smiles. “If you’re offering.”

You quickly get off the bed and kneel down in front of your fiancée, helping her manuver through the harness and secure it onto her pelvis. When you’ve finished, you don’t stand up, instead, you look at Bada as you lean forward to press a kiss on the head of her cock, running your tounge along the silicone.

Bada lets a small hiss at your actions, her hand coming down to gently rest on your head. “C’mon.” She pats your head, signalling you to get up.

You do so without a single protest falling from your lips, but you take the bottle of lube out of Bada’s hand, pop it open and slowly place a glob of the sticky substance into the palm of your hand. Before your finacée can say anything, you lean in and place a passionate, all-tongue kiss as you rub up and down in cock, twisting your wrist like you’re really trying to give her a hand job.

Bada groans into your lips, grabbing the sides of your face and deepening the kiss until you’re just swapping saliva messily, small strings of it clinging to each other’s lips, connecting you two together. “Sit on the bed.” She whispers inbetween your clash of mouths.

You pause, then take a step back from your fiancée, your lips parted as you let out staggering breaths. Backing up until you feel the edge of the bed gently collide with your legs you sit down like you were told to.

Bada is quick to follow after you, but to your surprise, she doesn’t push your back onto the bed; instead, she climbs on and reclines against the bedframe with her back cradled by pillows. Her position makes her cock stand tall on her pelvis, the large head slightly drooping downwards when she slaps her thighs. “Sit on it.” She tells you, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

You tilt your head to the side in confusion but crawl towards her anyway, taking off your panties before placing your thighs on either side of her hips and sitting down just shy of her cock. “I thought you said you were going to show me how beautiful I look in this dress.” You lightheartidly banter. Truthfully, you don’t care who does the work, all you want is to have Bada’s dick inside you, tearing you apart. But, then again, if she was going to tease you, you might as well do it back once or twice.

“What, you can’t fuck yourself on my cock?” She laughs, stretching her arm out to place it on your right thigh.

“I can.” You huff, feeling embarrassment start to burn in the pit of your stomach. 

“I don’t know.” Bada imitates a thinking face. “You’re kind of a pillow princess if I’m being honest.”

“Wha–” You stutter, your mouth dropping open. “I’ve eaten you out before.”

“And who was still in charge then?” Bada argues, her amusement growing every passing second.

“Well–”

“Listen to me.” Your fiancée suddenly cuts you off, leaning forward so that her face is only inches away from yours–her cock slaps against her stomach, the action going unnoticed by her, but not by you. “Fuck yourself on my dick, and if you do well, I’ll take over and finish you off.” She takes her left hand and places it on your cheek, rubbing her thumb against your cheek. She takes note of how your skin feels unnaturally warm. “Does that sound good, baby?”

Your eyes, which had gone wide out of pure shock stare back at her like lustrous gems. You slowly begin to nod, forcing yourself to close your mouth and swallow. Bada nods with you, then moves to rest against the headboard again, her back hitting the pillows. 

Although the tone she’d taken on was domineering, she still holds one hands out for you to take, so she can help you up onto her cock, while the other bunches up your long dress so it’s not in the way. You, of course, take her hand and with her added strength, lift yourself up until the tip of her cock just barely slaps against your pussy lips. You let out a shaky breath at the small surge of stimulation, but focus on inching your hips downward. Slowly, the tip of Bada’s strap fills up your pussy, every inch making you breathe harder and your hips stutter. The slight confidence you’d felt just a moment before instantly fades away as you close your eyes and stop moving.

“It’s only the tip, I should be able to take more,” you think, but truthfully even just the tip of Bada’s long and thick strap would be hard for anyone to take.

“Don’t do it all at once.” Bada’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, making you open your eyes and look at her. “It’s big. You’ll hurt yourself.” She says tenderly. “Just take it slow.”

You listen to your fiancée, carefully and meticulously sinking onto her cock, taking small breaks in between every inch until you’re finally able to sit in her lap, every inch of her monsterously big cock inside of you. “Oh, fuck.” You pant, leaning forward to catch your staggering breath and to give your pussy a time to adjust.

Bada watches you with a fond smile on her lips, she leans in to press a small kiss on your cheek–which just so happens to angle her cock further into you, making you gasp. “You took it all, I’m so proud of you.” She whispers sweetly, the soft side she only has for you peeking through her dominant demenour.

“I–” You say through heavy breaths. “Fuck.”

“It’s alright, just breathe.” Bada grabs hands grab at the sides of your face, trying to ground you. “In and out honey, in and out.”

You try to take in a deep breath but it catches in your throat. Still, with Bada’s guidance, you slowly begin to calm your breathing until it settles into small puffs.

“There.” She mumbles. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” You nod, shaking your head. “Just…it’s been a while–”

“I know it has, which is why you need to take it slow baby.” Bada’s eyes flash with a small glint of worry. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not, just took a little longer to adjust.” You place your hand over Bada’s, now wearing a confident expression. “I can do it.”

Your fiancée gives you a hesitant look but slowly leans back, allowing you to take the reigns. You start off slow, moving up just an inch before sitting back down. Then the next time you go up you go a bit further, so on until you’re able to take out half of Bada’s strap before slamming back down on her lap.

You also start to pick up your pace, angling your hips forward so her cock drags against your walls deliciously. You let out small, breathy moans with each rise and fall of your hips, still trying to get more out of her strap. But it feels like you can’t. Every time you think you can take out more you feel your legs weaken and have to slam yourself down on her lap before you awkwardly fall.

All the while Bada watches you, carefully zeroing in on the base of her cock, which is only wet with a minimal amount of your slick. She catches every moment you struggle on top of her, trying so hard not laugh at how cute your frustrated face is. “Do you need help?” She asks after she notices you lose your rhythm and slam onto her lap with a small annoyed curse.

“No.” You say stubbornly. Trying to prove her wrong, you use all your strength to lift up from her cock and this time manage to get another inch out before you have to quickly go down again. This time the sensation is deeply pleasurable so you let out a louder moan, but in your attempt to savor the feeling you once again lose your rhythm.

“So, you still don’t want my help?” Bada tilts her head to the side, just barely able to stop herself from chuckling at the glare you give her. But this time, you don’t answer her, instead, you just pant on her lap, looking like a defiled angel in your silky white dress that’s clutched between Bada’s hand, the straps having fallen so far down your body that some of your stomach is revealed, the other covered by the tight bodice. “All you have to do is say yes, and I’ll keep my promise from before.”

Truthfully, beyond feeling bad for your current inability to pleasure yourself, Bada just really wants to fuck you. The dress you’re half wearing is still doing things to your fiancée, the contrast of the pure white against your skin, which is stained with sin and sweat makes her desire to slam her cock into you reach incalcuable heights.

Looking at your fiancée, you bite your bottom lip in thought. There are two ways you could go about this. You could keep trying to ride Bada and probably only give yourself half the pleasure she can, or you can say yes and let her fuck you like she said she would.

…The answer is obvious.

“Yes.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Without a single second to spare, Bada lets go of your dress and grabs ahold of your hips, flipping your positions with such quick speed that it leaves you dizzy and giggling. 

Bada runs her hands up and down your figure for a moment, leaning down to place a kiss on one of your tits before placing one on the other.

“Put one of the pillows between your head and the headboard.” She tells you, pointing at a lone pillow beside you.

Confusion flows through you but you do what she asks anyway, propping the pillow on it’s side so it cradles the top of your head.

Bada gives you a smile, then takes both of your hands into hers. She coils her long fingers between yours and stretches her arms out so that your arms are held above your head. “I’ll show you how good my cock can feel.” She whispers into your ear, the words just barely leaving her lips before she takes out the entirety of her strap out of you and slams it back in.

The sudden fast and strong movement makes the headboard slam against the wall, and your head slides up, wich would have painfully hit the metal if it weren’t for the pillow Bada told you to put behind your head.

Your fiancée’s deep and fast stroke makes you let out a moan, your mouth falling open.

“Yeah,” Bada mumbles proudly. “Bet that felt so good after all that fooling around you did before.”

Outside of your shared bedroom, Hyo stands frozen in her spot, the sound of the slamming accoumpanied by your loud moan making her gulp. She hadn’t been able to hear a thing before this, which is why the sudden rancourous noise startled her, almost making her jump.

“It’s fine,” She tells herself. “They’re just…having fun, that’s all.”

But again, another loud slam followed soon after by your pleasure-filled cry leaks out of the bedroom, the sound echoing cruelly in Hyo’s ear.

“Fuck…” She squeezes her eyes shut.

Inside the bedroom, you don’t have the capacity to worry about about the fact that anyone in a five foot radius would probably hear you moaning and screaming like a whore, because your fiancée is fucking you within an inch of your life.

Like you’re a ragdoll, Bada takes you by the hips and angels them so that one is up in the air and the other lays on the bed, her cock slamming in and out of you at an insane speed. She’s moving so fast that your slick–which had tripled from what you produced when you were fucking yourself–is squirting onto her boxers and creaming at the base of her cock. It looks like a ring of sweet whipped cream against her thick black strap.

“I need to get this room sound-proofed.” Bada manges to say between heavy breaths. “You’re screaming like a fucking pornstar, baby.”

You’re unable to say anything, the only thing falling from your lips is moan after moan, which is somehow not overshadowed by the thundering sound of the headboard banging against the wall.

“Aw, have I fucked all the thoughts out of you?” Bada drives her cock into you in a deep stroke, hitting that sweet spot in you that has you seeing stars.

“Fuck!” You close your eyes, mind turning to mush as your fiancée quickly takes her strap out, the ridging on the silicone catching against your hot and gummy walls, giving you profound pleasure.

Another rush of slick follows the exit of Bada’s dick, strings of it clinging from your pussy to the black strap, connecting you both. It would be poetic if what you were engaging in wasn’t pure, unadulterated sin. Immoral is the way that your lover slams every inch of her cock into you, sweat and your essance falling onto the sheets, leaving a stain as a testament to your depraved doings.

Bada reaches over to take the silk of your dress into her hands again, flipping all of it upward so that she can properly see her dick splitting you apart, rubbing your walls and hitting the front of your clit perfectly.

“Not a single thought in that pretty head of yours, is there?”

Proving her absolutely correct, you don’t respond.

“That’s okay baby, you don’t have to think. You just have to lay there, looking pretty in this dress while I slam my cock into you.” The way Bada cooes into the hot air of your bedroom makes your eyes almost roll back into your head. She knows just what to say, and when to say it. “Keep moaning like that, it’s fucking hot.” She adds, her own cunt pulsing beneath the fabric of her boxers. The way she’s pounding her strap in and out of you so forcefully makes the base of it rub against her cunt harshly, the slight pain and pleasure mixing together to make the coil in her stomach slightly tighten.

Like the obedient slut you are for your fiancée, you let out one loud, scream of, “I’m close!”

That only serves to reinvigorate Bada, who quickly takes your leg which is up in the air and sets it on her shoulder, allowing her to push her entire pelvis into you with a fast and intense stroke, which again hits your g-spot.

That’s what finally makes the tight coil in your stomach burst, a long stream of cum gushing from your pussy as Bada continues to fuck you through your orgasm. Of course, you can’t help yourself. Every loud curse and moan that falls from your lips settles into the air of the bedroom before floating through the crack between the door and the wall, the sound reverberating in the hallway of the Lee mansion.

Hyo, who had been counting to one thousand in her mind with her eyes screwed shut and her head down, realeases a long breath. She shakily breathes in and out, applauding herself for her immense self-restraint.

“It’s over.” She thinks, the voice of her internal dialouge fostering a relieved tone. “That was a long one. Sounded like she was getting strapped–”

Hyo surprises herself with her last thought. She suddenly straightens her back, shaking her head a bit.

“Stop–stop thinking about it.” She mentally scolds herself. Her cheeks are red, but under the dim lighting it’s impossible to see, and the wide, ashamed look in her eyes is hidden by her sunglasses. “That’s your boss and her future wife in there, it’s not–it’s not right.”

It isn’t.

But her wandering thoughts would be the least of Hyo’s worries, because while she counted to one thousand moments prior, a certain blonde Bebe girl had spotted her standing outside your and Bada’s shared bedroom, all the while your loud moans and slamming sounds filled the air.

“If I’d have known she was there I would have told her to keep quiet about it.” Hyo grumbles. “Now all the girls think I’m into that type of stuff–”

“Ouch!” The sound of your hurt whine cuts Hyo’s thoughts off.

She freezes in her spot, but out of pure instinct, and briefly forgetting what was going on beyond the doorway to Bada’s office, she reaches for the holster of her gun, and swings around to look inside the office.

And what she sees changes everything…

[k1ss0fjudas]

untitled mean lucifer fic

(first time posting something like this anywhere but regardless of that, enjoy. all lowercase and not beta-read. just slightly edited wordvomit pretty much. written and uploaded on mobile.)

tags/cw: nsfw, lucifer being mean, gender neutral reader/mc, dub-con (implies that lucifer wouldn't stop if you asked him to but only bc he knows whats best for u. ur rlly into it i promise), degradation + name-calling, puppy play, creampie, spanking (a little), breeding mention but not too in-detail - thats abt all i can think of.

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lucifer fucks you like he hates you.

when he allows you to warm his bed he makes sure you know it is a mercy on his part to even let you touch him, let alone in the haphazard, careless way you do— impatient and needy and pathetic.

an excitable, dumb puppy is the image he always circles back to; especially when you're on your knees and peering up at him with those wet, lost eyes of yours— tongue out and panting like a bitch in heat for a taste of his cock. you're so pitiful.

aw, don't look so sad. there's always a fondness for you nestled in his chest. who can blame him when you're such a tantalizing little thing? you're simply too endearing to ignore. you were made for him; made to be picked up by his own two hands and have him break you into something fun.

he knows you won't disappoint. mammon can talk all he wants with that idiotic mouth of his, you are lucifer's pet, and being lucifer's pet means that you will always entertain him without fail. it's what good pets like you live for. you really think lucifer would settle for anything less?

and what a good little pet you are, making such sweet sounds when he truly starts the process of breaking you in, bending you over the bed— ass up and face down so you can be properly bred and mounted like the dirty little mutt you are.

his hands are tight around your hips in case you decide to run away. you have a tendency to believe that you have any say in how lucifer plays with you. it's nothing a little punishment can't fix.

when light spankings aren't enough to tame you he pulls on your hair and makes it hurt, tormenting you even more with a mean little chuckle when you whine at him for 'being too rough'. if he's feeling especially evil he'll chastise you with a heavy slap to your ass to remind you that a "good little whore takes cock with no complaints." dumb cocksleeves like you always remember your place after a few good and hefty slaps.

and what kind of owner would he be if he didn't cum inside and mark you as his? you know he's reaching his limit when he starts to breathe a little heavier— huffing and puffing through clenched teeth as he presses your face even deeper into the bed. if you bitch and moan he might even try to suffocate you a little just as a reminder that you are his puppyslut to fuck and abuse. not even you can tell him how to use your holes, whether it be to satisfy him or to simply breathe.

you should be thanking him, really. you like to pretend you hate it when he's mean to you like this but he feels the way your fuckhole squeezes around him when he is.

it's okay, he'll treat you the way you deserve.

and what you deserve is to be collared and leashed, fucked and bred, used and abused. all of that is something lucifer can provide so make sure you lay there and take it all when he suddenly pushes balls deep inside you and cums. it's hot and so thick and there's just so much of it that you can barely hold it. you should pray to whatever there is out there that it won't leak onto the bed, unless you want lucifer to click his tongue and scold you, muttering something to himself about how he "should have known that a stupid whore like you would be incapable of doing something as simple as being a cumdump."

what a shame, really. oh well. that only means that you're going to have to be pumped full of cum for the next few hours until you learn to be a proper cumrag. aw, don't look so scared, puppy. you're only going to turn lucifer on even more.

in fact, he's already hard and rearing to go, pressing his tip against your freshly broken-in hole. he'll fuck you even rougher and he'll be so smug watching you struggle beneath him. aw, trying to run away again? that simply won't do.

now be a good little bitch and take it.

[crows-in-the-house]

Disillusioned

Summary : (this statement by @/exodusin) / Mabel finds you in Bills penthause but instead of escaping with her, you show her your true colors. And your new husband, Bill.

pairing: Bill Cipher x gn! evil! reader

tw: none, tell me if i should add

Mabel couldn't find Dipper. For twenty minutes she's been running around Bills piramid only to get the demon further away from her Grunkles. That worked out. Kinda. Now she couldn't find a way back and had him running after her and her brother. And now she lost him! She really hoped he was fine. Hearing a booming sound she turned to another corridor. This one was looking... different?

It was smaller and narrow, as if the walls were about to crush her trying to protect something further. On the end of it, she found grand traingle doors. She really hoped whatever was inside would be harmless enough to let her rest a second. She opened them, coming into a big luxurious room. It looked like some sort of a penthouse with an expensive cauch, a fireplace, chandelier and a-

"Oh! Mabel, hi!" - Wait, what? It was you! Y/N her cool older friend, the one who helped her out in numerous adventures, and the one who vanished, just some time before the start of Weirdmaggedon! She could't belive her own eyes!

"Y/N? What are you doing here! Has Bill kidnapped you and inprisoned? We were so worried!" The girl rushed to hug you. "We need to go! Bill is-"

"Go? Oh Mabes, why would we go anywhere?"

She took a step back. You looked the same as always. Just maybe more elegant? Her tired mind desperately searched for the explanation for the weird feeling she had right now.

"Y/N... what... what have you been doing since the start of Weirdmaggedon?"

"Oh, well, I was sitting here " you gestured around the luxurious room. You didn't seem to be panicked at all. Have you get used to the situation? " I've been quite bored, but overall I'm fine, really! I'm glad you're here to visit!"

"Visit? No! I'm here to defeat Bill! Have you seen what he did to the town? To the people?!"

Despite your face being frozen on a smile something in your eyes changed. You didn't answer immiediately, stepping back to a table nearby, pouring yourself a drink. You talked slowly, as if you were soothing a panicked animal cought in a trap.

"Oh yes. Trully a work of art. It took time to design all of this you know? Do you have a favorite part?"

She felt her stomach drop. She misheard you right? O-or you're just acting! Or under some weird demonic enchantment, you wouldn't say such a thing, right?

You smirked tilting your head. " Well... in my opinion, the top three things would be... hmm, the walking water tower - I know, I know, a boring choice, but it walks very funny and-

"Y/N, listen-" you ignored her, continuing as she wasn't even there "- the second would be bubbles, very creative, colorful and fun, you know? Especially yours, it was so cute it made me a bit jealous! It's a shame I didn't get to visit tho. Yes I know, sorry, don't look at me like that, I will do that next time ok? Now! Drumrolls! the first place goes toooo-"

You looked at her as if wanting her to guess. In response she gave you a mixed look. It seemed like you clearly needed some help, but there was no time to sit around.

"I dont know, what is it?"

" ME " she jumped quickly pointing a grappling hook at the intruder. It was Bill, again in his yellow tamer form, standing awfuly close to you and holing-

" Dipper!"

"Nu-uh Shooting star! You're not playing with that toy anymore!"

At the snap of his fingers her weapon dissapeared. He grabbed her and before Mabel could move she found herself in the same hand where Dipper was trapped in. But you? You just stood there.

"Y/N! Help us!" her brother shauted. You only responded with a piting look in your eyes. Until your attention moved over to the demon getting closer.

"Hey toots! Check this out - a pegasus dropped it off today!" he handed you a card. From where the twins where placed they could see a drawing of the pyramid and a short text which Bill read out laud:

"It's a "I missed you, B.", and yes, it's me, I'm the B, also there was no pegasus, also there was me."

He blinked at you.

You gasped and smiled, your cheeks got darker and your hands tauched where your heart was supposed to be.

"Oh Billy! You're such a romantic!"

Dipper looked at you with disdtain "You just didn't say that."

"Oh but they did! That's my spouse after all!" you both laughed at shocked faces of the children. It was funny how none of the Pines realised they had a traitor among them. Now everything started to make sense. How you claimed to love spending time in the shack. How your face always lingered on Dippers journal. How you never smiled at Stanford but was always calming him down after a fight with his broher. How they all could always count on you, to take care of the kids on their silly adventures.

"How could you!" Mabel felt her eyes getting watery. She really liked you. She trusted you!

You shrugged lightly smiling. " Oh dear, don't be sad, it was always the plan. I'm sorry you have to be entangled in all of this"

"No you're not."

"Ha. True, I'm not. You know me so well kid."

"Why. Why did you do all of this? We were friends-"

"Oh HA HA HA, they already have friends kid! And money, fame, riches, infinite power! And the handsome ol' me! What else would they need?"

"An entire world to rule?" - You kissed Bills eye while handing him a drink "Oh, and I don't want you to take it the wrong way, you know? But i hate you. I thought I could get over it. But I feel sooo tired. And it's just the time to split up! I mean, honestly, you and your grunkles had lot's of chances to get to the right side of history but you decided not to. Now you pay. Tell my thanks to Ford, I would never meet the love of my life, if not for his stupidity." your smile dropped.

"Y/N you can still fix this!"

"As if!" Bills form grew larger while he opened the door "See you sweetcheeks, I will get that equasion in no time! Gotta disassemble some kids molecules!"

You stayed there smiling, waving back at Bill.

That was the last time they saw you.

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Funeral Swap

People chatted with each other around the various rooms at the funeral home, though I couldn't help but feel left out a bit. I was at the funeral of Clarence, my friend Brian's grandpa. I didn't know him too well, besides the occasional visit when I hung out with Brian. He convinced me to come, saying that funerals are a celebration of life, and I was in Clarence's life, even if it was just a bit. I couldn't argue with that, so I did it for him. Clarence would always do little magic tricks involving cards and whatnot, and he seemed like such a nice man. But still, the people surrounding me knew him alot longer, some their whole lives, so I felt like an awkward weirdo standing around while Brian talked to the rest of his family. 

After a while the ceremony started and I felt like even more of an outcast when people started crying. After what seemed like forever, it was finally over and Brian thanked me for coming. He said that they were doing the burial the next day, but I didn't have to come. I couldn't anyway, as I had to work.

As I walked out with Brian, I noticed a man sitting on the bench in the hallway outside. He was an old guy that had a pretty big gut and looked like he was missing a finger. I think I saw him a bit earlier but I wasn't sure. I couldn't help but feel his eyes burn into me as I moved by.

Just then I realized that I had forgotten my car keys on the table inside so I ran back into the main area to grab them. The whole place was empty so I quickly made my way into the other room where I found my keys, and back out. But I nearly had a heart attack when the man from before had snuck in while my back was turned. I didn't even hear the door open!

“Hello,” he said. Creepy.

“Uh hi,”

“Shame that Clarence is no longer with us.” I started to get uncomfortable so I slowly began walking away.

“Yeah it's sad.”

“How did you know him?”

“I uh. My friend's grandpa-”

“So you're not related to him?” He interrupted.

“No”

“Good” He then gave an evil grin. I had my hand on the doorknob when suddenly he reached his hand out and a bolt of purple lightning struck me in the face. I think I blacked out but I wasn't so sure.

“Sir. Sir. Sir!”

I woke up to the sound of a man's voice. When I opened my eyes, I realized he was the mortician who arranged Clarence’s funeral. The way he was looking at me, I could tell he was angry but was trying to hide it. I was sitting on a bench in the hallway. How did I end up here?

“Oh, what?” I said in confusion. What was even more confusing was the fact that my voice sounded so gravelly.

“Sir, there is another funeral starting soon. I'm going to have to ask you to leave,” he explained hastily.

“Ok sure.” There it was again! Why did my voice sound like it's dying?”

“Wonderful. Now please hurry up. I have a few more things to set up.” With that he quickly turned around and walked into another room.

The last thing I remembered was that old guy talking to me in the room. He hit me with lightning or something. That must've been a dream but why did I black out in the first place? I guess it didn't really matter. I started getting up, only to find doing so was a lot more difficult than normal. What’s worse was that I noticed I was wearing a completely different suit than I was before…and I gained a lot of weight! My belly was huge, so much that I noticed the buttons on my shirt were starting to give way. I looked at my hands. My fingers were huge! They were like sausages, only wrinklier. I also found that my right index finger was missing. Amputated. God what happened to me?! I searched around for a clue and found a piece of paper in my jacket pocket. It looked like a letter of some sort.

Dear Ron, sorry I had to do this to you but it is what it is. I'm sure you've noticed by now but you're not in your own body anymore. You're in the body of me…well at least the body I was in when I met you!

What? That old guy. Oh no. He's right! These are the clothes he was wearing when I saw him! I continued reading.

You see, Clarence isn't dead. But that body that was in the casket sure was. How is that possible you ask? Well it's simple really. I am Clarence. Like anyone my age, I craved youth. But unlike the others, I actually did something about it. With a simple spell, I swapped my body with someone else's. I desired a young, fit stud, but unfortunately the spell backfired and I ended up in that old guy you're in now. But fret not. The spell could be used one more time! When I first saw you, I knew you'd be my new target. I'm loving your body though, you're a hunk! Too bad for you though. You must've aged at least 40 years! Not to mention gained at least 200 pounds. Well good luck on your new life!

No way! I was stuck like this? I couldn't get up by my legs alone, so I had to use my arms to force myself off the bench. When I got up, I nearly fell right over as the weight of the new body made me lose my balance. I tried walking around like I used to, but found the gut kept hitting my arms so I had to stretch them out a bit further. My knees were killing me under all the weight, making the trek to the nearest bathroom a difficult one. I walked inside and sure enough, the mirror revealed that I was now in the body of an old man. I grazed my hands along the unrecognizable face, feeling the wrinkles that weren't there before. At first I was relieved that I still had hair despite the receding hairline, but then I touched the back of my head, revealing a large smooth bald patch.

I can't believe just like that, I was 40 years older. I glanced down at my pants, realizing that I needed to know what my dick looked like. Expecting the worst, I unzipped my pants to find I couldn't couldn't actually see it past my gut. But I reached my hand down there anyway to find I was incredibly hung! My new buddy started growing, even though I should've been turned off by a gross old man's body. But my dick didn't lie; it actually grew so far out that I could see the tip past my enormous belly. I quickly took my jacket off, and unbuttoned my shirt, to find a fleshy pair of man tits and the now revealed gut. I started jerking, and watched the tits and gut swing around like they were made of jello. I walked over to the mirror and stared at myself as I jerked some more. I came all over the bathroom mirror, and as I cleaned it off, I realized that I didn't know where this guy even lived. I reached into his jacket pocket to find a pair of keys and a wallet with an address on it. I guess this was my life now. At least I can jerk off with a huge dick anytime I want…

[hotchfiles]

↪ day four. sympathy for the devil — #marchhotchness — NSFW ; MDNI!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [last true mouthpiece] ❞

pairing: virgin!aaron hotchner x virgin!reader. summary:  "i would battle all nine circles of hell to feel like that again." content warnings: major catholic church disrespect going on. some making out. m! receiving oral. MDNI! word count: 1.3k

      God was supposedly pure, free of all sin, free of everything evil that scattered the earth. Free of carnal desires. Free of hypocrisy. 

      Church was supposed to be the place to be blessed with His kindness, His love, His overpowering goodness. For Aaron it was just another place to be a Hotchner.

      Not Aaron, not Hotch, a Hotchner.

      It was a place to be proper, to look attentive, to have his fingers pass through the beads of his rosary as if it really meant something to him or to most of the people sitting there. 

      It’s his first summer back home after he was unwillingly sent to boarding school.

      If there’s a place he wish he wasn’t forced to be, it would be the place where everyone swore to be good, as good as God, but weren’t.

      There’s at least three woman exchanging glances with his father, his baby brother is sleeping peacefully on his baby carrier, thanks to the nanny as their mother didn’t look at him for one second since they entered church, her eyes going from her friends to the priest only, making notes of what the ladies were wearing, how their kids were behaving. Nothing good came out of his family. 

      Not even him, he had his knuckles hidden under white bandage, band-aid on his chin. The signs of his rebellion clear, still his mother would tell the neighbors how sports were tricky for clumsy Aaron. 

      The only thing close to the pureness and kindness of a God inside that luxurious place was you.

      The warm smile you gave him, the way your fingers brushed his skin to ask what happened to him. The way your voice said his name sounded like an angel. It made him believe in angels. 

      But the way you made him feel at times was pure sin. If you were an angel, you were a fallen one, beautiful, good, kind… sinful. Aligned with the devil and its desires.

      But if it meant being able to be closer to you, Aaron would knee down and pray to God, or to Satan, or to any deity that could make it happen. He would believe anything your lips told him to. 

      He would sin in your behalf as you were the only true God he could believe, that’s why when you left your seat during Sunday mass to get water, he followed you, captured by the way your hips moved, it had been six months since the last time you two spoke, the flirtatious looks and words leading to nothing of substance. 

      “Boarding school not treating you well?” You ask him teasingly, but he can see the worry in your eyes as you touch his chin. He winces at the touch, but holds your wrist before you can move. 

      “Their therapist say I need to learn how to manage my rage.” You chuckle, you’ve never seen him angry, not at you or with you, he was always the softest, most polite boy, the most beautiful soul you’ve ever met. He was bigger than church, his presence made you feel surrounded by good. It’s a shame he doesn’t feel that way about himself. 

      You look around, knowing the cues by heart, most people have their eyes closed to pray, and you pull him by his hand quickly, knowing where the altar boys would change, he knew it as well, having been one for years as a child. You locked the two of you inside, breath heavy as you did so. 

      At this point the only thing that has ever happened between you two was lingering hugs, suggestive conversations and a quick kiss during spin the bottle. You wanted more of him, you wanted to make him feel good. 

      Brushing your lips against his chin, you pinned him to the nearest wall, taking his hurt hand and placing soft kisses against the bandage as well, the way he left soft sighs at your touch made you feel invincible, still, you stop yourself for a minute, looking at him for approval, Aaron slips his hand behind your neck and pulls you closer for a kiss years in the making, as hungry and needy as you. 

      You’re both desperate to feel each other, to feel something real when you’ve been raised in a community where nothing was, his lips are chapped against your strawberry tasting soft ones, his hands are rough and on your waist under your shirt and he smiles at the thought of you having to fight off not wearing a dress to mass. 

      Aaron’s cheeks flush at how aroused he’s feeling, ashamed to be feeling like that in a place of adoration of everything non carnal, he feels sinful, but the way your body is glued to his, hardening his cock even more, makes him forget about it as he moans into your mouth.

      His belt is unbuckled with ease by your hands, but he stops you before you can do anything else. 

      “Wh–What are you doing?” Making out, having someone straddle him, feeling the friction over his clothed crotch–that's the most he had done with someone until now, and there you were with your godly eyes, your red bitten lips and your hands about to make him sin even more. 

      “I–I want to make you feel good.” You don’t have much experience either, but still before he can protest to anything you shove your hand into his pants and boxers, feeling him fill your hand and twitch at your touch. 

      He nods in a frenzy, helping you by pulling his bottom clothes down to his thighs as you lower yourself, taking him in your mouth delicately at first, feeling the different taste in your tongue as you bobbed your head slowly, your hand holding his cock at the base. 

      Touching your cheek with one of his hands to catch your attention, he gets you to glue your eyes to his instantly, your mouth still at work as you did so, his other hand guides yours, telling you to move it along with your mouth, showing you what felt good to him. 

      Aaron can faintly hear the priest citing scripture, telling children to respect their parents in the Lord, and he almost feels bad for what he’s letting you do to him, but your mouth may be the closest he has felt to the divine and if God has a problem with that than maybe he wasn’t worth praying to. 

      The confidence he gets from the lust in your eyes leads his hand to your hair, pushing you and softly, to the best of his ability, holding you down, it’s clear he doesn’t want to hurt you but he can feel his orgasm building up, he knows it well from the nights jerking off in his bedroom to the image of you, before he can warn you between the moaning mess he is trying to bite inside his lips, you feel his cock twitching inside your mouth, the warmth of his cum filling your mouth. 

      You swallow it down in a reflex, the hollowing motion of your cheeks making him whine. You only let him go when he pulls you up by your hair, and it’s your turn to moan. 

      His lips and yours feel like two magnets, glued together as soon as you balance yourself, sharing with him his own taste, his tongue meddling with yours made you tingle. 

      “I just got us both a free ride to hell, right?” You laugh into his lips and he nods, dropping your arms only to pull his pants up. 

      “I think I would battle all nine circles of hell to feel like that again.” His citation of Dante’s Inferno feels silly along with his teenage hormones filled attempt to flirt, you don’t mind it, his brain was the second most attractive thing about him after all, losing only to the eyes that didn’t leave you as you both got out, again taking advantage of a prayer to get back to your seats. 

[tkaulitzlvr]

2008 tom forcing reader to answer a call from her bf while they're secretly fucking, going faster and whispering dirty things in her ear as shes on call to tease her, making it harder for her to not to make any noise🤭🤭

btw I love ur writings sm, one of my fav writers fr😩

thankyouu😽🙏🏻

ANSWER IT - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: your boyfriend calls you at a pretty inconvenient time, but tom forces you to answer, and you have to disguise what is really happening, tom not making it easy for you.

content: smut

a/n: thank u so much anon! and oh my god this req is such a good idea, literally as soon as i saw it i knew it was gonna be the next one i write, and i had so much fun making this so thank u so much for requesting i hope u like it!!💞

come over, no one else is home. 10:47pm

i stared at the text message as it came through, the words looking back at me, contemplating on whether i should give in or not. my mind, the more rational, morally correct side of me, tells me that i should say no, reminding me that i have a boyfriend, who would be home from his business trip in just a couple of hours. but, the fact that my heart should have belonged to someone else had never stopped me before. my heart was more reckless, making rash decisions that spoke only for my impulses, not the part of me that felt guilty for what i had been doing for the past few months, completely unbeknownst to my boyfriend.

it was never meant to turn out like this, no. what was firstly settled as a ‘drunk mistake’ that my boyfriend wouldn’t have to know about became a sober fuck, one that happens at least once a week. i am hooked, unable to stay away from tom despite the constant nagging that reminds me how much of an evil person i am. but my guilty conscience is not strong enough to win me over, so i keep going back, completely addicted to the way tom feels, my boyfriend unable to give me the same satisfaction.

he is kind, loyal, loving. i don’t deserve him, really. he would come home from work every evening, completely oblivious of the fact that another man had been inside of me just hours before, intimate with me in the bed that we would sleep in every night - he knows nothing about any of it.

and it is this that reminds me that i should decline tom’s offer, my eyes still blazing into the phone screen as the message stares at me. i have a boyfriend, this is wrong. the voice inside of my head says, chanting it over and over, convincing me to make the right decision for once, instead of acting purely on desire. he would be heartbroken if he ever found out, he doesn’t deserve this. my conscience continues, on the brink of winning me over, the shame of what i have become sinking into me, nothing about this entire thing justifiable on my part. i can put a stop to this, do the right thing, all i need to do is say the word.

k, i’ll be over soon. 10:51pm

i sigh, a little embarrassed at my lack of self-control, knowing that tom has me wrapped around his finger, unable to decline his invitation. the blood is on my hands, staining my innocence, and i am far too into this to ever go back to the way things once were. i jump out of bed, rushing over to the mirror and inspecting my appearance. my makeup is a little messed up, so i take time fixing it, making sure i look perfect for tom, adjusting my hair after, removing any knots in at as it falls to my shoulders. finally satisfied, i grab my keys, leaving the apartment and locking the door behind me, making my way to the parking lot.

i unlock my car, climbing in cautiously, checking that my boyfriend hadn’t unexpectedly arrived home early before turning off my location on my phone, getting used to doing these things to avoid getting caught as much as i could. the car engine starts with a low hum, radio quietly sounding out in the background as i drive to tom’s house, the guilt soon fading away as excitement buzzes around me.

the familiar house comes into view, but i park a little further down the street, not wanting to make it obvious that i was there in case my boyfriend did find out where i was. the street is dark as i climb out of my car, locking it before quickly walking towards his house, checking behind me and knocking on the door.

tom opens it within a few seconds, smirking whilst looking me up and down, moving to the side and giving me room to walk in. he shuts the door behind him, not wasting any time as he pushes me forcefully against the wall, attaching his lips to mine.

“missed you.” he mutters into the kiss as i whine a little in response, already too into it to give him a proper answer, but judging by the way his hands travel down my back, squeezing my ass firmly, it doesn’t seem like he wants to do much talking anyways.

but i didn’t mind, our hookups strictly sexual, no romance behind them. sure, he would whisper things into my ear in the heat of the moment, but i knew that it didn’t mean anything, and i didn’t want it to either. despite betraying my boyfriend in the most evil way possible, i didn’t want to end things with him, somehow still feeling something towards him though he could never pleasure me the way tom does.

without breaking the kiss, tom’s hands hook around my thighs, lifting me upwards as i instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, our lips moving against each other’s as he carries me to his bedroom, my hands locked around his neck, arms resting on his shoulders.

my back collides with the bed as he places me onto it, his hand flush against my back for support as he falls onto it with me, our lips never breaking, his body now on top of mine. he clearly doesn’t want to tease me, his hands finding the bottom of my hoodie, pulling it off and leaving it somewhere on his carpet, leaving me in only my shorts and small pink bra. he smirks at my lack of clothing, drinking it all in whilst his fingers play with the waistband of my shorts. he takes them off too, seeing that my panties match the bra, his tongue moving to the corner of his mouth.

“all this for me, hm?” he smirks, moving my thighs apart and leaning downwards, cupping my breasts in his hands, squeezing them slightly as i let out a small moan, blushing at his words and nodding my head. “i bet he doesn’t touch you like i do, get you to put in all this effort for him.”

tom continues to taunt me, the mention of my boyfriend causing my heart to wrench, guilt settling in my stomach as it is enough to remind me how much of a bad person i am. but, the second tom pulls his t-shirt off, revealing his toned frame, adorned with muscle in all the right places, his abs on full display, any thought of my boyfriend is long gone, my eyes and mind only focused on what is in front of me - the view admittedly far better than anything he could ever give.

tom reconnects our lips, his tongue entering my mouth, hips beginning to grind against mine at a torturously slow pace, hands moving to swiftly unclip my bra. i start to become impatient, fingers toying with the waistband of his jeans as i scramble for the button, undoing them as his zipper follows. he sees that i am struggling, tugging them down himself and letting his boxers come off with them.

he moves my panties to the side, not even bothering to pull them down, before sliding into me, a long moan escaping from my lips as i feel him stretch my walls, already feeling so full.

“so fucking tight, always so good.” he mutters, his forehead against mine, his breath tickling my nose as he speaks, a choked moan sounding from his lips as he is fully inside. he waits a second, studying my expression, gauging that i am okay as he almost pulls out fully, before slamming into me unexpectedly.

my breathing is heavy, body glistening with sweat as i hold onto him, my hands raking down his back as his pace speeds up, becoming more fast and relentless. i am so far gone, in too much pleasure to even process anything that is happening around me - including the sound of my phone beginning to ring.

tom, however, notices immediately, picking it up from the bedside table whilst still thrusting into me, my eyes following his movements as i am too lost in ecstasy to ask what he is doing. he turns the phone, showing me who is calling. my eyes widen as i shake my head, signalling for him to put it down, not wanting him to stop.

“answer it.” is all he says, passing the phone to me, one hand on my hips, helping him to move in and out of me easier, whilst the other holds the phone to my ear. he accepts the call, smirking as my boyfriend’s voice can faintly be heard.

“baby? hey, uh, i just got home from work. where are you?” he asks, tom nodding his head, gesturing for me to speak. a knowing smirk spreads across his face as he speeds up his thrusts, my teeth sinking into my lips to prevent a moan that is dangerously close to spilling from them.

“h-hey love.” i pant, trying to sound nonchalant, failing miserably as i feel tom hit my g-spot, a muffled whine sounding from the back of my throat.

“what are you doing? you okay?” my boyfriend asks, his tone laced with confusion.

“sorry uh- my back is sore, the usual.” i manage to get out, quickly closing my mouth as tom stares into my eyes, enjoying the way i struggle, showing no sympathy as he only drills into me faster. “i’m- i’m at my mom’s house.”

the excuse is terrible, tom furrowing his brows once i utter the words, making me realise how unbelievable it is. but, he finds my lack of thought amusing, smiling a little before resting his head in the crook of my neck, planting rough, open-mouthed kisses there. i sigh out in response, quickly covering my mouth as i mentally curse my self.

“your mom’s place? what are you doing there? it’s like nearly midnight.” my boyfriend responds, clearly hesitant to buy my excuse.

“yeah, family emergency. i-i’ll…be home in the morning-” i have to stop my speech, pursing my lips shut as a moan is dangerously close to sounding from them.

tom smirks against my neck, goosebumps forming on the skin whilst his lips curve into a slight smile.

“look at you. getting fucked whilst your boyfriend is on the phone.” tom mutters, his voice low as he makes sure that his words can’t be made out through the phone. “so wrong. but you love it, don’t you, hm? fucking slut.”

tom continues to taunt me, paying attention to the way i bite my lip, or place my tongue on the roof of my mouth, even squeeze his upper arms, anything to stop any noise from coming out of my mouth, desperate to stay undetected.

“what? is everything okay?” my boyfriend asks, showing concern as he tries to extend the situation, much to my annoyance, unable to keep this up for much longer, wanting nothing more than to cry out in pleasure. “should i come-”

“no!” i quickly say, a little harsher than i initially intended to, the utterance a mix of desperation and an attempt to hold back a moan, the combination coming out as an abrupt plea. “i mean- she, she’s just…a little overwhelmed.”

tom begins to kiss the skin below my ear, biting at it gently, knowing this spot drives me crazy, and once i shiver a little, he knows that he has me right where he wants me, changing his thrusts a little as the new angle causes a familiar knot to build in my stomach.

“could he make you feel like this, hm? only i can, right baby?” he whispers, knowing the effect that he has on me, no need for me to verbalise it, the way my eyes screw shut at his movements enough to confirm it. “so needy, letting me do this to you whilst he can hear. if only he knew…”

his words against my neck combined with the new angle makes the urge to moan almost unbearable as i bite down onto tom’s shoulder, a low grunt escaping his mouth at my unexpected action. yet it only fuels his stamina as he chuckles under his breath, enjoying the effect he has on me, the thrill of the entire situation turning him on even more.

“oh, just, let me know if you need anything okay? i love you.” my boyfriend says, finally wrapping up the conversation as i sigh in relief, feeling at ease as i have somehow managed to pull this off.

but tom clearly isn’t satisfied with how i have managed to stay quiet, desperate to get some sort of noise out of me, and, he knows exactly how to do that. one hand still holding the phone to my ear, he moves his other downwards, using it to rub circles on my clit whilst thrusting in and out of me. and that is all it takes for a restricted moan to leave my lips, unable to be mistaken for anything else. i know that i am in deep shit.

“what the fuck was that? what’s going on? are you fucking someone?” my boyfriend asks, his voice raising as he has finally picked up on what is going on.

“w-what? are you crazy? of course not!” i quickly say, panting through my words, no longer able to hide it, knowing that i am completely fucked.

“don’t fucking bullshit me! where the fuck are you? i can’t believe this, you’re fucking cheating on me? i swear to fucking god once i find-”

his furious rambling is cut off as tom ends the call, turning my phone off and throwing it somewhere on the bed, his hand now running up and down my waist.

“i did you a favour. he was fucking annoying anyways.” tom breathes out, a satisfied grin tugging on his lips, only faltering once he reconnects them with mine, the hurt of what had just happened never sinking in, tom’s movements more than enough to make me forget.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[hastyprovocateur]

Mizu's a good person which is why she believes she's an onryo. There's things she's done already done that she finds reprehensible without considering that it's a consequence of being in a patriarchal, autocratic, immoral, masochistic social system where the weak are singled out and eaten alive. For eg, killing Kinuyo became a core memory for Mizu, something she finds shame in having done. She understands that Kinuyo was wronged fundamentally by her own father and Hamata but is unable to use the same to relieve herself of the guilt. She is nowhere close to the evil that actual men in the time period were (and are) and she knows this but somewhere deep down, finds it much easier to just... take the blame. Be the bad guy. Be the one at fault. Because that's all she's done her whole life. Consider that someone who has been systemically taught to always take the blame (In Mizu's case, by her mom, social prejudice, childhood bullies, her own husband) will become obsessed by their faults to the point that they can't physically operate outside those very faults. Mizu operates on this crux of her internal struggle. The needless violence she has willingly embarked on eats her inside but if she stops, all the innocent people whom she sacrificed in the process would have died for nothing which is why she persists. She's unlike Fowler who doesn't base his peace on all his children he's killed. As a man, he believes he's entitled to kill to survive. He takes pleasure is killing. Mizu doesn't. Each fights hollows her more and pushes her towards becoming an onryo. Self sabotage. It's easier for her to think she has nothing else to live for because choosing love would be so overwhelming. Being despicable is easier. Easier to kill and carry the guilt. Because if she dares to reach for love again... instead of the sword, it'll cut her deeper than any masterfully rendered blade. And if she lets go of the fight, she will have to accept that the part of her that was wronged doesn't exist anymore. Which isn't true. She still carries that pain. And nothing but her own acceptance will ease that pain. Ringo, Taigen and Akemi are seeing Mizu for the person she is now and none of them, I attest as per the writing, considered her to be an onryo until Mizu herself reinforced that. She craves their love, companionship and vulnerability but she is the only one who needs to see herself as worthy of it. Worthy of being more than just a sword. She needs to see that she is indeed a good master to Ringo, that she is a skillful, selfess comrade to Taigen and to Akemi... she can be a better man than any.

[green-eyedfirework]

Dick’s hands didn’t tremble as he slipped off the rings on his fingers.  Dick’s hands had stopped trembling days ago, when Ra’s had strolled through their keep’s gates like the place belonged to him, and Dick hadn’t been able to stop him from seizing control.

From taking guardianship of Damian.  From stealing Tim’s letters.  From sending a small army to hunt for Jason and his outlaws.

From marrying Dick off to a warlord from the plains—a personal favor, Ra’s had called it, and Dick knew that anyone who won favors from the likes of Ra’s al Ghul was not someone he wanted to marry or mate.

His first impression of Slade Wilson did nothing to change that.

The man was a head and a half taller than Dick, broad and muscled—a warrior born and bred, and Dick had never been raised as some fainting, delicate omega in a tower, but he’d almost shivered and stepped back when Slade had dismounted from his great stallion in the middle of the courtyard.

He was older than Dick, much older—he had three kids from his first marriage, the eldest Damian’s age, and Dick didn’t dare ask what happened to his mate—and had only one eye, and moved like he was the most dangerous thing in any given space and the world knew it too.  Dick had gone still whenever Slade passed close to him, like a rabbit freezing in the hopes that the predator would ignore it.

Like now.

“Leave it,” came the gruff voice, when Dick moved to slide off the arm bracers.  “It suits you.”

Dick left the arm bracers on.  Dick did not meet his new husband’s eyes as he worked on the catches of the other jewelry.  The last was the heavy, symbolic choker tight around his neck.

He remembered Bruce showing it to him once, when he’d been years younger, and promising that Dick would get to wear it for his wedding.  That he would get to take it off to bare his neck for the person he’d chosen to be his mate.

Dick carefully placed his grandmother’s collar on the table, and did not cry.

His hands moved up, to the flowers and woven braids stylized like a crown in his short hair, but his husband tsked again.  “You’ll ruin it,” he said, a callused thumb brushing along Dick’s hairline.  “It looks like it took a lot of work.”

It did.  Dick remembered the hollow blankness inside of him as he was prepared for the wedding by Ra’s al Ghul’s maids, as he was led out by Ra’s al Ghul’s nobles, as he was escorted up the aisle by the evil scheming snake and not his father.

Because Bruce was dead, and his whole world had fallen apart because of it.

Dick left the hair, not making a single comment about how the pins were already starting to give him a headache, and stood, bracing himself against the dresser for a moment to make sure that his knees would hold him.  There was no use stalling or delaying—Dick’s heart was already in his throat, and all waiting would do was make the panic climb higher.

Slade was so close behind him that Dick could feel his presence as a tangible prickle down his spine, but he ignored it, and began working at the knots in the silks.  It would be a shame to ruin the finery for a wedding he’d been threatened into.

The memory of Ra’s al Ghul’s satisfied smirk as Dick said the vows to seal his fate was seared into his mind.

Some of the knots were in awkward places, and the third time a knot slipped out of his numb fingers, Slade spoke up again.  “Would you like me to help?” he asked.  Like it was a choice.

Well, Dick supposed it was.  The same way the demands Ra’s gave had been choices.  Submit gracefully.  Or suffer, along with everyone he loved.

Dick turned to give Slade easier access to the laces down his sides.

His husband was efficient, pulling each knot free quickly, his fingers leaving scorching trails of fire wherever they brushed against Dick’s skin, even through the layers of silks.  Dick didn’t bother holding the outer layer up, and let it slip down, knot by knot, freed laces by freed laces, until Slade was done and it slid down to pool around his feet.

Dick stepped out of it.  The second layer was easier to pull off, until Dick was left in what could charitably be called a shift, because omegas didn’t wear full shifts under their wedding wear, because after the wedding came the mating and Dick was standing in a piece of cloth that covered next to nothing but that the maids swore would be enticing.

Dick didn’t want to turn around.  He didn’t want to see if his husband was enticed.

But if he didn’t turn around, Slade would grab his elbow and yank, and the longer Dick obeyed, the longer Slade would be…gentle, almost, his grip light and firm instead of hard and squeezing, voice level instead of harsh, treating him like a wife and not a hostage.  Since Dick had to spend the rest of his life with him, he should enjoy the gentleness where he got it.

If Slade was a friend of Ra’s al Ghul, then Dick knew that the man was cruel.  But he hadn’t seen it, not once since he gave his hand and said the words, and if the alpha was that good at hiding it, it was possible that a subservient omega was what the warlord wanted.

Either that, or he wanted to enjoy Dick for a bit before trying to make him break.

It didn’t matter.  There was no way out of this.  Even if Dick managed to overpower Slade and get out of the room, he had no friends left in Gotham.  If Dick managed to flee, Ra’s would take it out on everyone who was left behind.  He’d execute Jason after he caught the outlaws, and he’d chain Tim after his little brother got back from his fool’s quest, and he’d force Damian through the harsh training that the boy had endured for too much of his childhood, and Dick could not let that happen.

Whatever Slade wanted, he would suffer.  For his brothers.  For the only family he had left.

Dick turned around, his gaze fixed at his husband’s collarbone.  Slade had taken his shirt off, and scars crisscrossed corded muscle, speaking to a life lived on a constant battlefield.  “Beautiful,” his husband said in a low murmur, and a hand on his cheek forced his head up.

Lips sealed on his, and Dick let them plunder his mouth, let them take as an arm wrapped around his back, his shift riding up till it was concealing nothing at all, eyes closed and prickling hot and he would not cry.

Dick had to gasp when Slade pulled back, breathless and panting, and Slade’s gaze darkened further, satisfaction clear in his icy blue eye.  He nudged Dick back towards the bed, nodding, “Go on.”

Dick stepped back, bare feet against the rugs, until he felt the edge of the bed hit his thighs.  At Slade’s expectant look, he boosted himself up, crawling backwards until he was in the center of the bed, watching Slade’s expression sharpen into desire.

At least this wasn’t his room.  Or Bruce’s.  Dick couldn’t bear to have his last memory of his father’s room be the bed he was raped on.

Slade stalked forward like a wolf, and Dick’s first reaction was to flee.  Suppressing that instinct left little room for anything else, and Dick stayed stuck, half up on his elbows, as Slade reached the edge of the bed.

“No room for me?” Slade asked, almost amused, and Dick realized that his thighs were firmly pressed together.

He let his knees fall open, sinking back against the bed, trying not to think about the fact that he was completely bared, and clutched desperately at the haze to surround himself with.

Light, open-mouthed kisses against his ankles, rising up his calves, and Dick fell deeper, deeper, deeper.  If Slade was proportionate all the way—it would hurt.  It would hurt a lot, and badly, and teasing nips to the inside of his thighs wouldn’t change that.  Even if Slade wasn’t proportionate, it would hurt, Dick wasn’t in heat and he knew that several alphas didn’t believe in lube or prep, that omegas’ bodies were built to take them so it would be fine.

He had to cocoon himself in not-feeling, or he’d scream, or cry, or—or beg, and he couldn’t do that.

He was scared.

He wanted his dad.

The kisses had stopped.  Dick forced himself to detach further from his body, but halted when he heard his name, sounding like it was coming from far away.  “Dick?”

“Yes?” Dick responded, a breathy even to his own ears.

“…Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Dick said.  Or maybe slurred.  Everything felt a little floaty.

“You don’t sound fine,” the voice informed him.  “Can you sit up?”

It took Dick a moment to figure out how his arms worked, but he pushed up.  Slade was kneeling between his spread legs, expression no longer warm and desire-heavy, but closed and analytical.

“Are you okay?” Slade asked again.

“I’m fine,” Dick repeated, and this time his voice sounded hollow instead of floaty.  There was a curl of dread deep inside of him—apparently Slade wanted him present—and Dick mentally bid adieu to the haze as he forced himself back to reality.

He realized he was shaking, minute tremors wracking his body, and Slade’s eyebrows were pinching even further.  “You’re trembling,” Slade pointed out.

Dick wasn’t sure if he could stop.  “Just—just a little nervous,” he answered, trying not to stutter.  The bashful, blushing bride was still a thing, right?  Slade wasn’t—wasn’t expecting him to be experienced and—and participating, was he?  “And it’s a little—cold,” Dick added, to cover all his bases.

Hopefully Slade would decide to warm him up and they could get this over with.

Slade reached to the side of the bed, tugging one of the blankets free and—and wrapping it around Dick’s shoulders, practically swaddling him in the material.  Dick blinked.

“You said you were cold,” Slade said levelly, shifting back and studying Dick with that scrutinizing expression again.  Dick allowed himself to clutch the blanket, and wondered what the hell this was supposed to be.

“You don’t want this,” Slade said after a stretching silence, and Dick froze.

How the fuck was he supposed to respond to that?  Agree?  Disagree?  Convince Slade that he was wrong?  He felt like he was standing in a trap but he didn’t know where it would spring from.

“You’re not nervous,” Slade said, voice tight.  “You’re terrified.”