#ITS THE PERFECT VILLAIN SET UP | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweetblinginrose · 19 days

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𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗,

(OS Eddie Munson x fem!reader geek)

summary: Rival Dungeons and Dragons reader who has a tournament and ends up without clothes. Oops…

word count: 6,6k +

warnings: obv +18, rivalry, unprotected sex, asphyxiation, bad language, cumming inside, female masturbation, culilingus.

a/n: hey lol, i wrote this half asleep so idk how it turned out, i'll see if it's any good or not later, so if there is something wrongly translated or that you don't find makes sense, pls let me know, hugs!

oh and don't copy my idea, it's my own huh 🦄

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

The Sith Order.

All the members of the Hellfire Club and your group, The Sith Order, maintained a cordial and mutually respectful relationship, with the exception of the tense rivalry between you and the opposing leader, the insufferable Eddie. You hated him so much, especially now that you had bet your grand dice, which your brother had given you as a gift.

The abandoned cabin loomed like a shadow among the trees of the forest, a forgotten refuge that now housed your group of friends and your imaginary adventures. Inside, the air was filled with a smell of dampness and earth, a constant reminder of nature reclaiming its space. The once cozy and lived-in furniture was now covered in a layer of dust and cobwebs that wove complex patterns in every corner.

The sofa, your throne, was worn out, with upholstery torn in several places, revealing the crumbling yellowed foam at the touch. Dark stains of time adorned the fabric, and every time you moved, a cloud of dust rose like a sigh from the cabin itself. Sitting there, on your stomach, with a furrowed brow and crossed arms, you couldn't help but feel the rough and cold texture of the sofa against your skin, a reminder of your recent defeat in the game.

Around you, the tables wobbled on uneven legs, their surfaces scratched and marked with circles from past glasses. The faded and torn curtains hung sadly from the windows, allowing dim light to filter in and illuminate the dust particles in the air. The floor creaked under the weight of footsteps, and each floorboard seemed to tell a story of abandonment.

In this space, time seemed to have stopped, and every object told the story of a better past now eclipsed by neglect and desolation.

You felt as if a storm was brewing inside you, a mixture of frustration and challenge that consumed you as you sat on the sofa. The defeat in the friendly game was a thorn in your pride, a small battle lost in a war that seemed to extend beyond the game of dragons and dungeons. The rivalry with the Hellfire Club and its leader, Eddie, was the real dragon to be defeated, and every thought of him fueled the flames of your resentment.

Eddie, with his arrogant smile and his ability to bring out the best in his players, had become the antagonist not only in the game, but in your mind and life. You imagined him, with his tousled hair and carefree attitude, as the perfect villain for your campaign, one who seemed to enjoy every time his group came out victorious. The idea that he might consider your defeat as a point in his favor was unbearable.

While your friends continued with the campaign, laughing, stressed, focused, and rolling dice, you immersed yourself in your thoughts, planning your next move. It was not just a matter of winning a game; it was a matter of honor, of proving that your group could overcome any challenge, even the infamous Hellfire Club. Determination began to replace frustration, and although you still felt the bitterness of defeat, there was now a new goal on the horizon: to defeat Eddie and prove that your group was the best in the fantasy game.

But... were you really prepared for tonight?

...

Eddie, with a sly smile and a spark of malice in his eyes, steps forward to greet you in the lair of the Hellfire Club, the basement of the institute, the setting of countless campaigns and now the battlefield of your latest challenge. As the girls from your club gather in the space, filled with detailed maps and meticulously painted character figures, Eddie focuses on you, his most formidable rival.

"Welcome, oh great 'Mialee!'" he exclaims with an exaggeratedly theatrical and ironic tone, making a reference to the elven mage character to underline his mockery. "I hope your spells are as sharp as your tongue this time, and that your strategies are less predictable than your expressions of defeat."

You can feel the gaze of the others on you, some with complicit smiles and others with cautious curiosity. Eddie continues, not missing the opportunity to poke at your pride: "I hope you brought your Dragon Crystal Die, because something tells me you're going to need all the luck you can get."

The lair resonates with the stifled laughter of the club members, and although you know that Eddie's words are part of the rivalry game, you also feel that each joke is a challenge to your skill and determination. With a firm gaze and unwavering resolve, you prepare to show that this battle will be different, that this time, Eddie will be the one left speechless at the end of the night.

"You are living proof that not everything that glitters in a treasure is gold, and in your case, it's not even copper," you say, challenging him as you look him in the eyes. With a confidence that resonates in every word, you confront Eddie, your eyes shining with the reflection of the candles that illuminate the basement. "I hope you haven't forgotten your part of the bet, Eddie," you say with a firm and clear voice that cuts through the tension in the room. "That Orb of Entwined Destinies you so proudly show off will be mine before the moon reaches its zenith."

The Orb of Entwined Destinies was a perfect sphere of dark crystal, with a core that seemed to contain a miniature nebula, ever-changing and slowly rotating. It was more than just an object for Eddie; it was a symbol of his ability to manipulate probabilities and destiny within the game.

The mention of the orb makes Eddie's smile falter for a moment, a crack in his facade of confidence. You know you have hit a sensitive point, reminding him that you are not the only one with something valuable at stake. "Get ready, Eddie," you continue, "because when I'm done with you and the Hellfire Club, that orb will be the trophy of The Sith Order, and your luck will change forever," you spit, leaving the boys dumbfounded, unlike his group of friends, as they were used to this kind of speech.

Lucas, with a carefree smile and a tone bordering on disbelief, tries to lighten the atmosphere that has built up in the room. "Come on, guys, don't you realize? It's just a dumb bet, right? There's no need to turn this into an epic battle or something..." he comments, his voice a thread of sanity in the tapestry of rivalry unfolding before him.

However, his attempt to lighten the mood is quickly quashed by a severe look from both leaders, who in a rare moment of unity gesture to him with a stern gesture and an almost synchronized "Shh!" The seriousness of their bet is not something they are willing to downplay, even with Lucas' playful interjection.

The battle between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club unfolds in a fantasy world woven with the magic of dragons and dungeons, but the tension is as real as the beating hearts of the players. The room, illuminated by the flickering light of the candles, has transformed into an epic battlefield where each roll of the dice resonates like the clash of swords.

The Sith Order bravely faces the challenges posed by Eddie and his Hellfire Club. The dice roll on the table like distant thunder, dictating the fate of heroes and villains alike. You, The Sith Order, with characters ranging from cunning rogues to powerful sorceresses, maneuver through traps and puzzles that Eddie has crafted with malicious skill. The battle intensifies, with each strategic move and each spell cast adding layers to the unfolding narrative. Your characters fight hordes of infernal creatures, cross dark abysses, and decipher ancient codices to unravel the secrets that will lead them to victory.

As the night progresses, a tie seems imminent. The Hellfire Club has countered every attack, every plan, with a precision bordering on the supernatural. But you, with your leading character, are not willing to give up. With a mix of cunning and a bit of luck, you roll the dice for one last masterful play. Silence fills the room as the dice roll, dancing on the edge of the abyss between victory and defeat. Finally, they settle, and the numbers they show are the harbinger of a tide change. Your play has been successful, overcoming the defenses of the Hellfire Club and securing an unexpected triumph.

Eddie, with a look of genuine astonishment, acknowledges the victory of The Sith Order, albeit reluctantly. You, with a smile of satisfaction, accept the Orb of Entwined Destinies, now rightfully yours.

Amidst the euphoria of victory, one of the girls from your group, with a contagious smile and an overflowing energy, suggests an idea that captures everyone's attention. "How about we celebrate with some pizzas? It would be great to relax and enjoy the moment," she says enthusiastically.

The idea is met with a mix of nods and smiles. It is a comfortable and familiar proposition, a perfect way to lower the intensity of the night and simply enjoy each other's company. Everyone, except you and Eddie, seems to agree. The tension of the battle still clings to you, and the idea of sharing a table with Eddie and his club, even in a neutral and friendly environment, is something that you find hard to accept, just like Eddie.

However, aware that rejecting the offer could be seen as poor sportsmanship, both of you reluctantly agree with a gesture of resignation. "Fine, but only because I'm hungry," you murmur, trying to hide your reluctance behind a practical excuse. Eddie nods silently, his serious expression revealing his reluctant agreement.

And so, with victory still fresh and emotions running high, the group sets off to share a meal that promises to be as full of flavor as it is of interesting dynamics.

The night has slipped into a soft twilight when everyone, now relieved of the tension of the game, finds themselves in Eddie's van. The space is filled with laughter and the sound of bottles clinking together. "Cheers!" the group shouts for the sixth time, raising their beers in the air in a toast that has become a ritual.

Eddie's van, with its worn seats, stickers, dirt, and windows displaying the world passing by at high speed, has become a temporary sanctuary of camaraderie. With each new "Cheers!", the barriers between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club seem to dissolve a little more, erased by the alcohol and the shared joy. Or so it seems...

Eddie's van snakes along the road, a lonely path flanked by the silhouette of trees gently swaying under the starry sky. In the front seats, silence between Eddie and you is a marked contrast to the bustle that reigns in the back, where the rest of the group sings enthusiastically game anthems, interspersed with laughter and the sound of opening beers.

You, with crossed legs and a beer can resting in your hands, get lost in contemplation of the nature that unfolds before your eyes. The moonlight bathes the landscape, transforming each tree and bush into dancing shadows that play hide and seek with each turn of the road.

Eddie, with his attention focused on the road, drives with a slowness that seems to respect the shared silence. His profile stands out against the occasional glow of distant street lamps, and although you are together in the cabin, an abyss of unspoken words stretches between you.

"Hey..." Eddie's voice breaks the silence, a word hanging in the air that seems to wait for permission to continue. He does not look away from the road, as if fearing that a moment of distraction could reveal more than he intends.

You turn your head towards him, an eyebrow arched in a mixture of surprise and curiosity. It is strange, this attempt at conversation. Outside the game, words between you have been as scarce as leaves in winter. You have never crossed more than strategies and challenges, and now, this attempt at dialogue seems as out of place as a barbarian in a library.

The tension between you is palpable, a taut thread that is woven with each kilometer the van devours. What words will follow that "hey"? Will it be an attempt at a truce, or perhaps the prelude to another challenge? Time seems to stand still as you wait for Eddie to continue, and in that moment, the van is not just a moving vehicle, but a space where two rivals might, just maybe, begin to see each other as something more.

"No... no, nothing. Forget it..." he murmurs softly, not taking his eyes off the road, but now looking more tense, sighing.

You decide not to insist, but this time not averting your gaze from those long locks, but discreetly examining them for some kind of response.

Eddie's van glides to a smooth stop in front of a caravan. As he turns off the engine, Eddie's expression transforms. The seriousness that marked his face during the journey gives way to a genuine smile, an open invitation to continue the night in a space that is as much a part of him as the game they both love. "Come on, guys! The party continues at my place!" he exclaims with enthusiasm, his voice resonating with the promise of more laughter and memories to be created. "We can drink as much as we want, and if anyone's interested, there's weed too. My uncle works nights, so we have the place to ourselves."

Friends and friends respond with a chorus of approval, their stumbling steps and complicit smiles sealing the tacit agreement to extend the celebration. One by one, they enter the caravan, a cozy space illuminated by dim lights and adorned with mementos from trips and caps. A bit messy, but cozy.

You, with a mix of caution and curiosity, are the last to cross the threshold. Your eyes meet Eddie's, and for a moment, the outside world fades away. Eddie closes the door behind you, a simple gesture but loaded with meaning. You stand there, still, remembering the unfinished conversation, the words that Eddie left hanging in the air.

Feeling the weight of the night and the looks charged with unanswered questions, you decide to join the group that has settled in the caravan. You grab a few more beers, your hand brushing against the cold surface of the can, and sit at one end of the narrow sofa from where you can observe the scene. Eddie, on the other hand, seems different tonight. The usual arrogance that characterizes him has given way to an unusual stillness, almost reflective. Was defeat the cause of this change? Or was there something deeper behind his silence?

With each passing minute, glances between you meet like swords in a silent duel, full of questions that neither of you dares to voice aloud. After an hour of this game of looks, you feel the need to escape, if only for a moment, from the intensity of the atmosphere.

"Where is the bathroom?" you ask, your voice strangely formal in the relaxed atmosphere. Eddie points to a small hallway at the back, and you get up, navigating the space filled with laughter and conversations until you reach the bathroom.

Inside, you find yourself facing the mirror, your reflection returning an image of someone who seems to be on the border between two worlds. You wet the back of your neck, not wanting to ruin your makeup, and step out, feeling refreshed but still restless.

As you pass through the narrow exit of the bathroom, you collide with the partially open door of Eddie's room, and curiosity gets the better of you. You discreetly peek inside, your eyes scanning the space that is so intimately his. The room is adorned with posters of rock bands, metal, clothes everywhere, magazines scattered on the floor, and action figures of fantasy heroes, a mix of passions that reveal facets of Eddie that you had never considered. On the bed lies an open diary with scribbles and handwritten notes.

Eddie, with his carefree smile, leans against the doorframe, watching you with curiosity as you try to process the mess. "What are you doing here?" he repeats, his voice gentle but clearly amused by your confused expression. The scent of marijuana is evident, and his eyes, although red, gleam with a mischievous spark. He seems not to mind in the least your presence in his personal sanctuary. You feel like an intruder in an unknown world, every object in the room telling a story that only Eddie knows. However, he, with that calm bordering on indifference, gestures for you to enter. "Come, I'll show you my collection," he says casually, and suddenly, the place transforms. What was chaos before now seems like an art gallery, each hanging T-shirt, each vinyl, and each magazine clipping is a piece of his identity. He guides you through his space, narrating anecdotes of concerts and trips, his voice a thread weaving a tapestry of lived experiences.

The initial embarrassment fades away, replaced by fascination at discovering the depth of Eddie's personality. And as he shares his world with you, the messy room becomes a map of his personal universe, a place that, despite the disorder, now makes sense.

As you survey the room with your gaze, something catches your attention and takes your breath away: a proudly displayed B.C. Rich guitar hanging on the wall.

It is a red and shiny beauty, with its aggressive shapes and air of mystery, a piece that any metal lover would desire. Your heart beats with excitement, not only because of the surprise of finding such a treasure in Eddie's room, but because metal is your passion, one of the many things you have in common with Eddie without even knowing it, a detail he is unaware of.

He notices your excitement and, with a mischievous smile, takes down the guitar and hands it to you. "It's all yours, at least for now," he says with a wink. You hold it in your hands with reverence, feeling the weight of the wood and the coldness of the metal.

With shyness but moved by the emotion, you ask Eddie to play something. He shrugs, regretting the lack of an amplifier, but he is not discouraged. With a mischievous smile, he starts "playing" the guitar silently, mimicking the sounds with his mouth. It's a parody, but there is something about his attitude that invites you to play along.

"Come on, guess which song this is," he challenges you, as he moves his fingers in the air and imaginary sounds of a song fill the room. You concentrate, trying to follow the rhythm and melody that Eddie creates. The silent notes seem to come to life, and suddenly, you recognize it. It's 'Time Is Right' by Whitesnake.

Laughter fills the room as you guess it, and Eddie nods approvingly. "I knew you were one of mine, babe," he says, and in that moment, the guitar is not just an instrument, but a bridge between two souls who share a hidden passion for metal and many other things.

A blush creeps up your cheeks, an unexpected warmth that takes you by surprise. The word "babe" resonates in your ears, a term so casual and yet, loaded with an intimacy you did not expect. It feels as if you are inside the pages of one of those erotic books your mother used to read in secret, where the protagonists, initially at odds, end up wrapped in a story of love and rough sex.

Eddie's gaze has become more intense, his eyes no longer just reflecting the reddish glow of a pot smoker, but also a different glow, deeper, provoked by your presence. There is something about the way he looks at you that makes you feel like you are the only person in the world at that moment, but at the same time, as if he is undressing you.

You find yourself returning his gaze, unable to look away from his eyes. There is a connection, an unspoken understanding that seems to transcend words. And while a part of you wants to laugh at the situation, at how absurd it is to feel like a character in a pornographic novel, you cannot deny the electricity in the air, that spicy tension that hangs between the two of you.

Eddie takes a step towards you, his proximity overwhelming, and although he does not say anything more, he doesn't need to. Words are unnecessary when the looks speak for themselves. And in that instant, in that messy room that smells of marijuana and freedom, you understand that sometimes, real life can be as surprising and exciting as the stories hidden within the pages of a book.

After that moment, the room seems smaller, as if the walls had closed in to witness the silence shared between you. You decide to break the tension with a nervous smile and a change of subject. "Hey... what did you want to ask me before, you know, in the van?" you ask, stuttering slightly as you feel Eddie's scent filling your nostrils.

Eddie leaned against the threshold of the door, just inches away, watching your lips adorned with an intense crimson and your lined eyes attentively. "Ah, that..." he wondered, feigning forgetfulness. "I think I wanted to say something about Dungeons and Dragons, right?" he inquired with irony, biting his lip as he laughed and crossed his arms.

None of this compared to the fantasies you had with Eddie. Let's admit it, you had imagined countless similar scenarios, all related to the game and its protagonist, Eddie. You had wished for him to touch you in the same way he caresses his guitar. You wanted to be that fucking guitar.

"I don't think I want to talk about that right now..." you whispered, slowly moving closer to Eddie, who raised an eyebrow and smiled widely, catching your hint.

"Well then, if you don't want to listen to me, why don't you shut me up?" he whispered near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He grabbed your belt, holding your short denim skirt, forcing you to be pressed against him. "I said, why don't you shut me up..."

Eddie played dirty even outside of his character. He wanted you to take the initiative, perhaps to mock you or further feed his ego, but you wouldn't allow that to happen. With confidence, you ran your tongue over your lips and approached his neck, whispering, "I don't plan on silencing you. I enjoy listening to you and narrating each campaign..." This excited him, caressing your shoulder and getting closer, causing your breasts to press against him, eliciting a reaction in his groin. "Then, shut me up. I know you've wanted to since you met me," you whispered, trying to provoke him, with some success.

He responded by pushing you against the wall, trapping you between it and his body, placing his thigh between yours and gripping your waist tightly, feeling the coldness of his rings against your bare skin. "What I've wanted since I met you is to fuck you on the Harken map, so that your screams scare away the undead lurking there..." he muttered with a deep voice, softly kissing your collarbone, causing a sigh to escape your lips. With captivating slowness, Eddie guides his lips to yours, each movement deliberate and filled with anticipation. When they finally meet, the kiss is like an explosion of fire, burning and passionate. His lips sink into yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless, and his tongue boldly slides in to explore every corner of your mouth from the very first moment.

As your lips entwine in a sensual dance, his hands find your breasts with a firmness that surprises and excites you at the same time. The pressure of his hands cupping your breasts sends a wave of pleasure through your body, making you involuntarily shudder at the intense and unfamiliar sensation. You never expected this reaction, but you find yourself completely captivated by the desire that Eddie awakens in you, leaving you craving more of his passionate touch.

Eddie suddenly stops, his fingers noticing the absence of the bra he expected to find. A mischievous spark shines in his eyes as he looks at you with a mixture of surprise and desire. With a naughty smile on his lips, he whispers in your ear in a seductive tone, "Wow, looks like the girl comes with nothing...," murmuring with a hoarse voice, his warm breath sending shivers down your naked skin. His comment, though bold, is imbued with an irresistible sensuality that makes you blush and feel even more drawn to him. It feels like you're in a scene taken straight from one of those forbidden novels your mother used to find in the library, but this time, you're the protagonist, enveloped in the heat of shared desire with Eddie.

With expert dexterity, Eddie deepens the kiss, intensifying each brush of his lips against yours. As his tongue explores yours with unrestrained passion, his thigh slides and exerts pressure between yours, finding its way under your denim skirt, lifting it almost completely, hitting just that sensitive spot that makes your whole body react instantly.

"Mhmmm..." an involuntary moan escapes your lips as you feel the perfectly placed pressure of his thigh against you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You feel the need to ride that leg. You were very wet at that moment, so the touch was making you even wetter.

He moves it with precision between yours, creating a delicious friction that awakens sensations that make you gasp against his lips. Each movement is calculated, designed to provoke maximum pleasure, as his thigh finds that sensitive spot on your body, sending waves of excitement through you.

"You've got me so hard..." with a throaty whisper, he makes you aware of the effect you have on him, sending a thrill of excitement down your spine. His warm breath against your lips only increases the intensity of the moment. You feel your heart pounding hard as you let yourself be carried away by the passion swirling around you. Then, with seductive skill, he leans slightly down, his strong hands gripping the bottom of your thighs to open you up and wrap around his waist. The change in position allows his bulge to press directly against your underwear, which is exposed by the previous lifting of your skirt. A wave of desire surges through your being as you feel his prominence brushing directly against your sensitive and swollen clit, sending sparks of pleasure that seem to electrify every fiber of your being.

The movements of his hips are precise and deliberate, each delicious brush torturous while engulfing you deeper into the abyss of pleasure. The sounds of your ragged breathing blend with the seductive whispers and soft moans escaping between hot kisses. You are completely at the mercy of the passion Eddie unleashes in you, lost in the whirlwind of overwhelming sensations that threaten to consume you completely.

The barely contained moan escapes your lips between kisses as you feel Eddie's gentle hip movement, a movement that sends you soaring to the heights of pleasure. Still with your thighs tightly wrapped around his hips, you give in to a wild and passionate kiss, with an intensity that defies any limit.

The kiss becomes a whirlwind of unabated passion, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as you let yourself be carried away by the overwhelming sensations. Amidst the heat of the moment, you feel Eddie release one of your legs, changing the dynamics of the position and making you feel his bulge even more. Now, in this new position, the contact with his clothed cock is even more evident, causing you to instinctively arch your hips towards him, seeking more contact, more friction. You feel his hands grip your buttocks firmly, aggressively pressing you against his jeans, as if he is eager to feel you even closer.

The brushes and hip movements become increasingly intense, a symphony of pleasure that seems to have no end. You are completely immersed in the moment.

"Mmhm... fuck..." Between moans escaping your lips, accompanied by the sensual movements of your hips, Eddie suddenly stops, only to turn off the bedroom light and then guides you, still with your body on top of his, to his disheveled bed. He places you on your back on the tousled sheets, and positions himself above you, burning desire reflected in his gaze as he begins to explore your neck with hot kisses and licks. Each touch of his tongue against your skin awakens an electric sensation that makes you tremble with pleasure. His expert hands play with your nipples from inside your top, squeezing and teasing them while his thighs continue to exert delicious pressure on your intimate area, making you gasp with each movement, holding onto his back.

Slowly, your rival moves down your body with controlled impatience, licking and kissing your abdomen eagerly before quickly lifting your top and leaving you exposed before him. His lips find your breasts, and he kisses and licks them with devotion, as if they are the most delicious thing he has ever tasted. His long hair sometimes gets tangled in his face, but when you start gently tugging on it for pleasure, he moves away, leaving behind an incredibly enticing scene that makes you arch your hips forward instinctively.

While Eddie continues to lavish attention on your breasts, his hands begin to explore above your underwear with his ring finger, stroking gently from top to bottom. "Do you like it like this?" he asks between kisses and licks, asking you with a husky voice if you're enjoying yourself, establishing an intimate and desire-filled dialogue that only increases the sexual tension between you. "Or is it better like this?" he increases the speed of his touch.

Your silence prompts Eddie to grab your chin firmly, his fingers exerting a dominant and sexual pressure as he forces you to look into his eyes. When you finally respond to his question with an intense gaze, he slowly releases you, going back down to give attention to your body. His lips find your panties, and he kisses and licks them eagerly, soaking them with his saliva mixed with your own excited wetness.

With precise and deliberate movements, Eddie slowly pulls down your panties, placing soft kisses on your inner thigh as he slides them down your legs. Once he has removed your panties, his eyes meet your exposed, naked, and wet pussy, and he can't help but feel his cock throbbing with an unprecedented intensity, eager to satisfy the burning desire between them. You feel incredibly exposed under his heated gaze, but Eddie sees you as a work of art, a sight that excites him to the limit. Without wasting time, Eddie gives you a generic lick to your wet pussy, spreading your lips with his fingers to access your exposed clit directly. An overwhelming moan escapes your lips at the wave of pleasure that courses through your body, but Eddie quickly covers your mouth, whispering that you can't moan to avoid being heard in the common area where the others are.

With a mischievous smile on his face, Eddie realizes that the loud music has concealed any sound that would have revealed their activities in the bedroom. With your mouth still covered, he delves into the task with renewed eagerness, licking and sucking your clit with an intensity that makes your body arch in response. Each suck and each lick sends waves of pleasure through you, taking you to the edge of ecstasy over and over again. Your hips move instinctively in response to the overwhelming pleasure, but Eddie firmly controls them, maintaining a rhythm that takes you closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure. With an expert hand, he begins caressing your abdomen, slowly descending until reaching your clit, parting his mouth for a moment to touch it with his fingers before inserting two of them without any prior preparation.

The sudden stimulus causes your eyes to roll back, and your thighs tighten with force from the pleasure that overwhelms you, arching your back and moving your hips towards the direction of the long-haired person. In a short time, Eddie goes back to action, losing himself between your thighs as he continues moving his fingers with unwavering determination.

He continues like this for a few minutes, not stopping for a moment, until you feel that you're about to reach climax. You grab his hair with incredible strength, almost burying your fingers in its roots, urging him to continue, feeling like you're about to burst in his mouth. But just as you're on the edge of orgasm, he pulls away from you, leaving a thread of saliva mixed with your wetness as a separation between his mouth and your pussy, leaving you in a state of uncontrollable anticipation and desire.

Eddie, eager to satisfy his burning desire, hastily fumbles with his zipper and unleashes his erect cock, ready for action. Eddie's cock, although of average size, has a peculiarity that sets it apart: a curved shape that gives it a unique and distinctive appearance. Its thickness is notable, and the veins that run along its length add texture to its look. The skin that covers it has a pink tone, with a reddish hue indicating the excitement that engulfs it. A slightly glistening liquid adorns its tip. It is an image that reflects virility and desire, a promise of intense pleasure about to be unleashed.

"How does this look, huh?" he moves it, noticeably sensitive, gently rubbing it against your clit, giving you a mischievous look as if he's playing a game with you. Without warning, after lightly masturbating it, he quickly and decisively inserts it into you, completely surprising you and leaving you breathless. "Mhmmm..." he sighs deeply, as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, arching his head backward. From the very first second, he begins to thrust into you with a dizzying rhythm, penetrating you deeply over and over again. You are overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure that engulfs you, unable to articulate a single word as you completely surrender to the wild thrusts of the guy. Each thrust hits your insides with overpowering force, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

Despite the initial discomfort from the lack of preparation, you find yourself immersed in a whirlwind of sensations that make you lose track of time and space.

You writhe under him, unable to hold back the moans that escape your lips as you completely surrender to the frenzied pleasure that consumes you. Although it hurts, you can't help but enjoy every thrust, every touch of his skin against yours ignites a burning fire inside you.

He grabs you by the neck with a firm but dominant hand, stopping any sound that could escape your lips. His warm breath brushes against your ear as he whispers with a husky and authoritative voice, "Shut up." The words, loaded with desire and determination, send a shiver down your spine, leaving you breathless and obedient to his command. You are completely surrendered to him, unable to do anything but obey his orders as you let yourself be carried away by the frenzied passion that burns between you. The orgasm that you had almost experienced less than a minute ago begins to resonate through your body again, but the intensity of Eddie's thrusts makes you feel like you're on the verge of a great climax. You are completely overwhelmed by the avalanche of sensations that envelop you, unable to resist the tide of pleasure that drags you into an endless abyss of ecstasy. Your increasingly intense and uncontrolled moans blend with the background music, creating a symphony of pleasure and ecstasy that fills the room. Eddie, releasing his hand from your neck, begins to hit your thigh and butt with a mixture of desire and unbridled passion. As he continues to thrust into you with force, his lascivious words fill the air, whispering in your ear with a deep and seductive voice.

He tells you how much he has wanted to fuck that pussy of yours, expressing his most intimate desires with an exciting crudeness that makes you shiver with pleasure. He calls you a slut with a tone of desire and adoration, celebrating your sexuality and the way you grip his cock with every thrust. Those words, charged with lust and desire, only increase the intensity of the moment, pushing you closer to climax with each word that comes out of his mouth.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, every thrust of Eddie sending waves of pleasure through your body. He perceives it too, thanks to the way your pussy grips his cock, and he lets out a guttural grunt of satisfaction. You're on the edge of the abyss, about to let the ecstasy completely envelop you, while Eddie's lascivious moans and words push you towards the most glorious climax you've ever experienced

You feel the ecstasy completely enveloping you, a overwhelming wave of pleasure that shakes you to your core. Your walls contract tightly around Eddie's cock, squeezing with an intensity that makes him moan with pleasure. "Damn, you're so tight..."

Your body trembles uncontrollably, your eyes rolling back in your head as a guttural groan escapes from your lips, louder and more heartbreaking than ever before.

However, before you can fully recover from your orgasm, Eddie aggressively grabs you by the throat again, his expression a wild mix of concentration, excitement, and a hint of anger. With notable abruptness, he continues fucking with a renewed ferocity, as if taking revenge for something, but this time he has absolute control. The sensation of being taken with such force awakens a wild fire inside you, a overflowing passion that mixes with pain and pleasure in a symphony of indescribable sensations. You are completely immersed in the erotic game between you and Eddie, each thrust taking you further into the abyss of shared desire.

Thegame is now tied, each one taking the lead at different moments. You feel Eddie moaning with an unusual intensity, sensing that he's about to reach climax. You want to warn him not to come inside, but your throat is blocked by Eddie's firm hand, keeping you from articulating any words. A slight shiver runs through his body when he perceives your attempt to communicate your desire, but it's too late.

With a few final shaky thrusts, Eddie gives in to the avalanche of pleasure, releasing his hot and trembling liquid inside you. You accept his release without reserve, watching Eddie's expression as he does so. His face shows an unusual vulnerability, with arched eyebrows and a lost look somewhere in the room. His slightly parted lips release his moans of pleasure, and his hands grip your hips tightly, as if clinging to you for support.

After Eddie releases his liquid inside you, he slowly retreats and lies down by your side. Both of you remain staring at the ceiling, and suddenly, a nervous and uncontrollable laughter overwhelms you. Eddie looks at you strangely and asks what's happening. Between laughs, you respond that you just imagined that all of this was one of his campaigns, a kind of joke or experiment designed to test your limits and reactions. The surprise on Eddie's face turns into a knowing smile when he realizes that you have disarmed the tension of the moment with your humorous comment. Both of you give in to laughter, releasing the accumulated tension and sharing a moment of complicity after the unrestrained passion you just experienced together. It's an unexpected and light ending to an intimate and passionate encounter.

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sinfulpanda16 · 4 months

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Someone Better?

Hitoshi Shinsou x fem reader

"There's someone else I like."

Those words kept playing back in his head over and over again. Kirishima had asked you out earlier, you didn't tell him, but he found through Kaminari. Why the hell did you reject him? Kirishima? That man has everything the looks, the strength, the personality, you two would look so good and perfect together it pissed Shinsou off.

He was walking you home like usual but he couldn't stop thinking about what Kaminari had told him. He was looking down at the ground when he spoke up "Hey, so I found out that Kirishima asked you out." he says and then turned to look at you.

You're taken aback a bit by him, how did he know? Kaminari was there when Kiri shot his shot so he probably told Shinsou you figured. You relaxed a bit and giggled. "Oh yeah he did" you replied a bit shy after remembering that moment.

He fucking caught that. The little blush growing on your face, probably at the thought of Kirishima. Oh no. Did that mean...no. He mustered up the courage and asked "So, how'd it go? Did you say yes?"

You laughed softly. "Oh no. I rejected him."

"No? Wait why?" he asked. He was relieved of course but at the same time a bit shocked. A lot of people would love to be with someone like Kirishima.

You turned away and looked at the ground "There's someone else I like." you smile softly and continue "Someone I really like and I want to be with him."

Its quiet for a bit, you turned to look back at him. Shinsou was already looking into your eyes. He gave you a small smile, you returned his smile and he tells you "I'm happy for you Y/N".

Shinsou grunts as he finishes his last set on the bench press. With one last grunt he pushes the barbell up and he's done. He sits up all sweaty and panting. Damn his workout was so good, letting out his jealousy. He smiles to himself "Fuck Y/N. You know how to get me fired up."

He gets up and heads for a shower. He let's the water run in his hair.

"I'm happy for you Y/N."

He runs his finger through his damp hair. No the hell he's not. The thought of you being with someone else makes his chest ache. He wants you to be happy yes but...not with someone else. He wishes you could be happy with him.

That night he layed in bed looking up at the ceiling.

"There's someone else I like. Someone I really like and I want to be with him."

Him. If not Kirishima who? Who the he'll could that guy be? Is he better than Kirishima? He grabs grips of his hair in frustration. There's someone better. Shinsou has always been insecure about his looks, he knows he's not a lady's man, his quirk, with everyone having told him its makes for a good villain not a hero, his strength, he wasn't automatically placed in Class 1-A or 1-B and everything in general. You mean to say that's there's someone who can top all that better than Kirishima? Needless to say, Shinsou fell asleep after a few tears of jealousy and insecurity.

The next day after-school you and him were at the nature park. School has been a bit heavy on yall so you decided some time outside would be relaxing. Shinsou was following behind you, smiling like an idiot watching your cute self lead him to a 'pretty place'. You turn around "You like cute things right, Shinsou?" you ask him.

Yeah. You, Shinsou said in his mind. "Well, I don't mind them." He said chuckling at your question.

A bit more walking later and you both arrived at a flower field. "Tada! Here we are!" you announced excitedly. It was beautiful, the endless sea of flowers. Shinsou stared out into it "Wow. This is pretty Y/N." he said and turned to you smiling. You returned his smile and for a moment it was just you and him, in front of the giant flower field. His purple eyes looking back at your (e/c) eyes, they're so pretty. Everything about you is beautiful, your eyes, your smile, your aura, even your interests were beautiful. Like the flower field you brought him to.

Shinsou blushes and turns away abruptly his eyes landing on a tree. Shinsou smiles, "Hey let's climb that tree. We'd get a better view of the flowers from up there." he says hoping you'd want to.

You bright up "Yes lets! But make sure to catch me in case I fall." you order playfully.

Shinsou chuckles "I'll be right your side don't worry." he reassures you. Smiling softly as you head towards the tree.

You go to climb the tree being careful to not slip. Shinsou was below also making sure you were careful. When you were seated on a branch he starts climbing the tree and sits right next you. The both of you smile looking out into the landscape. "This is nice. Right Shinsou?" you say not looking away from the sunset setting behind the flowers.

Shinsou responds softly "Yeah. I could do this with you over and over again." You blush at his words, you could do this over and over with him too. He was looking at you and he saw you blushing. He did that?

Shinsou takes a deep breath making you turn to him. "Y/N" he says firmly and goes to hold both your hands. You're shocked by his actions but don't pull away. He begins to speak again "You're the only person that has made me feel things no one else has ever made me feel. You make me feel like I'm this strong, well-respected and remarkable man...but... you also make me feel like I'm this weak, undeserving, invalid man. You drive me nuts." What is he saying? You make him feel sad? "This must be what falling in love feels like. Because regardless of the insecurities you bring me back to, I still want to be with you, and I want to only be with you. I want to go far and beyond to work on myself so I can be the best man for you. Y/N..." he brings your right hand closer to his face and places your knuckles on his lips "I love you." he says gently and leaves his lips on your knuckles closing his eyes.

You're shocked "Shinsou." you say softly. He opens his eyes looking right at your beautiful ones. He pulls your hand away "I know there's someone else. Someone else better than me for you, and I have no right to get in between you two but...If you give a chance, I promise to go to the depths of the earth for you. I promise you won't regret it." he says emotionally.

You hold his cheek smiling softly at him and go in for a kiss. Shinsou is taken aback but doesn't pull away. He kisses you back your lips taste so sweet and unconsciously he wraps his arms around your waist.

After a moment you pull away and smile at him. "Shinsou, you're the one I want to be with. I love you too." you say making him forget the insecurities he had earlier, making the happiest man on earth.

"Thank you, Y/N" he replies going in for another to which you happily return.

#shinsou x reader #shinsou x y/n #shinsou x you #mha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x reader #hitoshi shinsou #mha shinsou #boku no hero academia #bnha #shinsou hitoshi #hitoshi shinso x reader #hitoshi shinso x y/n #bnha shinso hitoshi #bnha shinsou #my hero fanfic #my hero academy fanfiction

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mccloudyyy · 1 month

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Ok so after my last post I decided to rewatch the Hazbin Hotel pilot and it's so crazy seeing the difference

I have nostalgia for the pilot so I might be a bit biased but the pilot is honestly pretty good 😭 like it's not perfect but compared to the series I feel like it does a good job setting up the characters and the world

Like after watching the series its just feels like such a downgrade 😔 the characters feel different

For example, in the pilot Alastor felt really mysterious and interesting. Like my favorite thing about pilot Alastor was that he just kept yapping 😭 ik the whole point is that he was manipulating Charlie but it doesn't feel as forced as it does in the show. Like he was just a villain looking for some fun in the pilot!

In the show it felt like the show just kept telling you that he was mysterious and powerful like guys I think I get it 😭 like that one scene where Alastor and Zestial were talking and everyone around them was like "GEE GOLLY IM SO SCARED" LIKE SHOW ME THAT THEY ARE POWERFUL AND SCARY??? DONT JUST TELL ME??? 😭

Also Cherri bomb was cooler in the pilot 😔 like idk her and Angel felt like besties while in the series Cherri got replaced by Husk

PLZ MAKE THEM BFFS AGAIN

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop critical #alastor hazbin hotel #vivzipop critical #vivziepop #vivziepop critique #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel pilot #alastor #cherri bomb #hazbin hotel cherri bomb #hazbin cherri bomb #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust

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physalian · 3 months

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Writing Exposition (Or Turning a Textbook into a Story)

Exposition concerns every facet of your work from character descriptions, backstories, and relationships, to world history, geography, religions/faiths/superstitions, politics, and current events. Whenever the author takes an aside to say “Joe, Bob’s second cousin, said ‘hello’,” the exposition is establishing that Joe is Bob’s cousin.

So shaming a story for its poor handling of exposition is like shaming a movie for bad visual effects. Yes, some of it is probably bad, but I guarantee that you did not notice every single VFX shot in the movie, and you weren’t supposed to.

Most examples of bad exposition occur when the following happens:

Informed Character A exposits to Informed Character B and tacks on “as you know” with full sincerity

Random Important Detail gets dropped in conversation that does not fit the tone or direction of conversation

Character suddenly monologues about The Thing unprompted

Convenient Breaking News Alerts

Character, out-of-character, begins monologuing about The Thing even when prompted

The pacing screeches to a halt so the Exposition Train can thunder past

Exposition exists to give information, and in order for a reader to understand a story, not all of it can or should be agonized over making perfect. Settings have to be established. Character names and relationships have to be understood. “Telling” over “showing” is, in my opinion, perfectly fine when the “showing” would take more lines, effort, and priority over a single inconsequential sentence. Heck, sometimes the “telling” is better than the “showing”. The trick to understanding when, how, and to what degree to give exposition is making it motivated.

What is motivated exposition?

See this post about character descriptions and the plight of the cliche “mirror” trope for unmotivated exposition.

Motivating your exposition means giving it a reason to exist where it does, prompted by the story you’re telling. Citing the “mirror” trope: I can have my character wake up and describe themselves to you, but in doing so, that rarely tells the audience anything more than just what to picture as they read. Or, I can have my character description spread out as those details become relevant. They’re describing their hair color and texture as it begins to irritate or distract them, telling us both what it looks like, and what our character thinks of it, and a little bit about their personality in how they treat it.

I can open the first chapter with a long-winded editorial about the long lost king destined to unite the shattered kingdoms, or I can wait until the tale becomes important to my characters to tell.

I can spin tapestries about politics before you’ve even met your hero, or I can wait until those politics begin to cause the hero problems and then invite the hero to talk about why those politics cause problems.

See this post about pacing and ensuring your scenes always do at least two things at once. Motivated exposition takes bland information’s singular purpose (to inform) and gives it flavor in coloring the personalities of the characters who give and receive it.

When to give exposition

Caveat: Not all front-loaded exposition is poorly-handled. Everyone loves the Star Wars title crawls because they’re a part of the episodic movie experience. Whether it’s a cheap way to deliver information is irrelevant.

Most prologues exist to front-load exposition and, because I love using Lord of the Rings as my shining example in every post, the trilogy opens with a lengthy speedrun of the main villain, some of the important pieces on the chessboard, the importance of the ring, the smeared reputation Aragorn must live up to and repair, and an idea of the stakes should the heroes lose. Not only is it a prologue, it’s a narrated prologue. There’s an impressive amount of information given in not a lot of time.

Last Airbender begins every single episode with a reminder about the 100 year war and the aggression of the Fire Nation and the purpose of the avatar.

With that said, prologues and title crawls are their own tangle of weeds.

As I said above, exposition should be given when the story gives it reason to exist. Don’t talk about the politics until you have a scene where discussing politics is relevant.

If you need to establish your cool, unique magic system, wait until you have a character using that magic and give it in little chewable bites. That character likely isn’t using every trick in the book right then and there. If they wrote Last Airbender as a novel and started explaining the other three bending styles the second Katara levitated some water, it would read sloppy and slog.

Or, leave the exposition as a mystery to be told later. Make your audience crave the hero’s backstory, piecing together little hints throughout the narrative until just the right moment comes along where your hero would realistically start spilling the beans about themselves. Have other characters frustrated at the lack of information. Have other characters missassume and be wrong about the information they think they know.

Have your characters crave knowledge about their world as much as your audience does.

How to give exposition

Exposition can be given three ways: Via the narrator, via dialogue, or via images or texts observed by the narrator (think news broadcasts or the front page of the paper, books, letters, videos, diary pages).

No matter which avenue you give exposition through, the less random it is, the less “hand of the author” the audience sees. Characters given a lucky break by a convenient breaking news alert is a mini deus ex machina —- the heroes do not earn their victory, it’s just given to them. They are not active in the plot making decisions, they are being railroaded by information as it falls into place before them.

Narrated exposition

The narrator’s internal monologue will interrupt the story to explain whatever needs explaining in that moment. The difference between it reading like a textbook and reading like a story is whether or not this information is important to the narrator.

Meaning, what does my hero feel about this new information? Katniss Everdeen in Hunger Games exposits the entire book because she’s alone for a fair chunk of it with no one to talk to, and she’s no stranger to the politics and history of her world. And yet, she has such strong feelings about everything she says that it doesn’t feel like she’s just giving information for the sake of informing. Everything she says and how she says it reflects on her personality and how she views her world.

Dialogue exposition

When Katniss is clueless about the tribute parade process and all the nuances of Capital life, how she asks about this information and how Effie, Cinna, and Haymich tell her also speaks to their personalities and biases about what they’re saying. In essence: Their exposition is in-character, and, thus, services their characters.

This is the complete opposite of when two informed characters exposit to each other information both already know for the sake of the audience because the author has no other way to give said information. A prime example is the hero happening to overhear two minions discussing The Plan dropping lines like “as you know” (which makes it worse every time).

The only time “as you know” works is when it’s in character. As in, the villain expositing to their minion they think is stupid and the minion reacting to that assumption appropriately. Or, the heroes are gathered to discuss The Plan and the leader of the meeting goes “as you know” because that happens in the real world. Bonus points if some characters are irritated by the redundant recap.

Exposition via dialogue also opens the door for lies, half-truths, and characters simply being wrong or blinded by their biases. Or, characters simply being ignorant of the world they live in. In Lord of the Rings, Gandalf is like 3,000 years old and has been all over Middle Earth. It doesn’t break the plot to have Gandalf exposit because he would realistically have witnessed or have deep knowledge about historical events and politics. Aragorn, too, is 87, and has ranged all over the place. He’s the future king and thus had better know his history and politics. Aragorn expositing makes sense.

Say what you will about Last Jedi but it has a prime example of nuanced exposition: Kylo Ren and Luke Skywalker have incredibly different perspectives on if/how Luke attempted murder on his nephew. There’s 3 sides to every story and the audience is never shown the truth. Had this been given in the title crawl, it would have lost much of its potency.

Dialogue also nurtures the relationships between the characters talking. Telling stories brings people together. If a character is sharing their backstory, why are they telling the narrator, and what does this mean to them as they tell it? If a soldier is sharing his grizzled leader’s backstory around a campfire, how does his relationship with his leader impact how he tells that story, what language he uses, how he sounds, the expressions on his face?

Third party exposition

Information given from an object can be incredibly hit or miss, depending on how hard the heroes worked to obtain it, and whether or not the object in question is meaningful to the heroes.

In the Assassin's Creed games, you abandon the gameplay in whatever historical era you're playing in to watch cutscene after cutscene of exposition (specifically referencing the Ezio Trilogy) by characters no one cares about, giving information that no one cares about, when we'd all rather just keep playing the game.

You can literally have a character read from a textbook, logbook, or daily minutes. What matters is how that info reads, and how the character responds to it. Is the information prejudiced or saturated with bigoted language? Is the mere existence of it where it is horrifying?

In the Mines of Moria (Lord of the Rings) Gimli learns that all his kin have been murdered by goblins once he sees their corpses all impaled with goblin arrows. Later, he finds his dead cousin’s crypt containing a dead dwarf cradling a book that tells of the downfall of Moria. The log entry isn’t finished, and the penmanship rapidly degrades as the dwarf writing it likely dies from his wounds, ending with the ominous, “We cannot get out, we cannot get out, they are coming.”

Had Gandalf warned Gimli ahead of time that all the dwarves were dead, or had they never found the crypt or figured out the owners of the arrows and simply were told “oh yeah we’re about to be attacked by goblins, I suspect they’re the reason Moria is a ghost town” that would have lost all emotional impact, and character development for Gimli.

This doesn’t have to be just objects, get creative! Have the hero watch a parody retelling of the Big Event. Have someone tell it like a ghost story around a campfire. Have it be a crazed rant all across live TV that no one takes seriously. Have six different characters remember it differently and all argue over who’s right. Have someone tell it poorly, thinking it “just a stupid rumor”.

When to withhold exposition

Satisfaction is the death of desire and sometimes uncovering the details of an enticing tidbit of information ruins whatever the audience had imagined to fill in the blanks. In terms of “showing” vs “telling” concerning worldbuilding, deciding whether to have a character speak about the information, or actually writing the scene they’re referring to, is entirely dependant on the story you’re telling.

If you are going to write a flashback, or describe a video of the event, that flashback and video has to be *packed* with as much information as you can cram in there as artfully as you can. Flashbacks and dream sequences take up space and entire scenes and settings need establishing so the audience isn’t floating in the ether trying to follow along. Which tends to mean that the meat of the flashback is barely half of the words you’re now forced to read.

Decide how important it is that the audience sees the incident as it happened, versus told in the aftermath through the biases and flawed memory of another character.

Sometimes the fewest amount of words pack the biggest punch. You can have a shattered soldier describe the battle of which they’re the last survivor in gory detail, or you can have them simply say “it was hell” and let the oomph hit in their expression, how their voice cracks, how vacant their eyes look. The injuries they sustained, the traumas visible in how they hold themselves. At that point, the audience can imagine whatever hell they want. At that point, what you are "showing" (the emotional and physical toll taken on the speaker) is likely way more important than the battle itself.

Concerning pacing — no matter how hard you worked on designing your politics and royal lineages and fantasy geography, odds are if that information isn’t important to your characters, it isn’t important to your readers. It’s not motivated.

I love trivia and fantasy maps as much as everyone else, but I like them on the wikis and next to the table of contents, not interrupting an engaging story.

And, give your audience credit where credit is due. How many fan theories stand on the basis of a few scant lines of narration or zoomed-in snippets of background characters (R+L=J anyone?) and pieces of costume? The mystery is what makes it fun, and I just watched the criminally disappointing second adaptation of the Lightning Thief completely robbed of that mystery every chance they had.

—

In short, the amount of exposition isn’t what makes it well or poorly handled, it’s how and when it’s delivered. Inception is my favorite sci-fi movie and the entire script is exposition, but the way it’s given is entertaining. Motivating your details to exist for a reason, to be given exactly when the time is right and not a moment before, is the spoonful of sugar helping the medicine go down.

Make it timely

Make it relevant

Make it important to the cast

Make it earned by the cast

Make it entertaining

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #exposition #writing

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phantoms-world-and-more · 1 year

Text

Super villain everlasting trio idea

So danny, sam and tucker are all reaching their breaking points,

Danny with his parents hunting phantom, the rouge gallery still coning in and the looming responsibility of being ghost king

Sam is getting tired of the neverending expectations and criticism from her parents and the lack of support from anyone not danny of tucker

And tucker from the frustration of not being able to fight back against bullying without making more problems

Their all reaching their breaking points

So during one of dannys ghost king classes he discovers that alternate universes exist and that gave him an idea

After taking to sam and tucker about his brilliant idea the only thing he needs to do is convince clockwork to let him

It was easier than he thought it would, all he needed to say is that its a non-timeline-altering way to piss of the observents and he had to the ahead

When he told sam and tucker they had to green light they spent the next 2 months planning

Danny was about to show sam and tucker the WONDERFULL thing that misplaced aggression is

Everything was set up

Danny had all his equipment, experments and fun new things to use. the fenton outfit redo was beautiful even if a bit reminiscent of his parents The necklace that stopped his powers was tightly around his neck and he tucker and sam had already mapped out the drop locations

Sam had convinced overgrowth to lend her his powers and had redesign the outfit so now she looked like an angel(literaly), she had given danny and tucker some behaviour tips to get the right effect they wanted

Tucker was holding the Pharaoh staff he convinced frostbite to give him, he also redesign his outfit to a more brute punk look, with his transforming the staff into a bat, he and danny designed the perfect uncrackable coms that they all had and made sure they knew that plan, even though they might not follow it, this was about having fun remenber

And jazz had made the perfect excuse to get time alone, and had and com that she could use to cheak in ton them

With everything set clockwork opened 3 portals

Danny went though the one to gothem

Tucker went through the one to star city

Sam went trough the one to metropolis

This was going to be fun

This was inspired by

This

This aswell

And This for fun

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gatorbites-imagines · 5 months

Note

Can i request the continuation of jason todd and dick grayson yandere ask? Maybe add in smut aswell. (Don't force yourself!, Take a good care of yourself 💗)

-🥚 anon

Yandere Jason Todd x speedster male reader x Yandere Dick Grayson

Part 2

Headcanons

Imagine sitting in a spinny chair petting a cat like a bond villain. I have wanted to write a part two for this for a while. Instead of reader just dating his og universes version of them, what if reader was dating multiple people 👀? Cuz you cant imagine the kid of Thawne being a nice person.

Ill refer to readers original universe as OG verse, and the yandere universe as yan verse cuz its easier to understand.

Part 1 can be found here

In part 1 yan Dick and Jason has pretty much abandoned their former dimension in smithereens after having wiped out the entire justice league, as they tried to stop them from crossing dimensions and tearing a hole in reality itself to find you.

So, when Yan Dick and Jason appear in your OG dimension, different procedures set up by the league notify them about the tear in reality and how unstable it is. They’d rush there and find two bloody and battered versions of Dick and Jason, and thinking they fled some battle or a doomed timeline, they bring them to the tower.

When Jason and Dick wake up, they immediately fall back on the many tricks they had been taught under their batman, who was apparently even better at lying than OG batman, as they believe them when they claim their home dimension was destroyed and they have nowhere to go.

It takes a while to work Yan Dick and Jason into the league and their hero roster, but they never suspect them of being anything less than heroes and stable. They start calling them Rick and Jay since it gets confusing with multiple people named the same thing.

They don’t drop hints that they know you, but they do try to figure out where you are and what you are doing at all times, but its harder than they thought it would be. Who would have thought trying to track a guy that can cross dimensions and time at will would be so difficult.

Rick almost bursts a blood vessel when he hears some of the younger OG league members talking about how “Mach 10 has been dating multiple people at once”, and Jay wants to curl up into a ball and disappear and tear himself apart.

Their obsession finally starts showing through the cracks as they use league resources to find you and stalk you. More and more cracks appear in their masks and fake personalities, as they see you going on dates with other people.

Jericho, Jamie Reyes, Roy Harper, Garth, Kyle Rayner, the list went on. You seemed to be dating multiple people at once, at the same time, as you used your powers to be in multiple places at once.

You weren’t a good person, so you hadn’t even felt bad when Jamie had cried finding out you were cheating on him with multiple people, you just shrugged and asked him what he had expected from Thawnes offspring.

It was common knowledge amongst the younger league members that you were down to a roll in the sheets with most, but there wasn’t a loyal bone in your body, and you could easily turn on whoever you were dating at the time if it was part of a plan.

Of course. Rick and Jay never saw you as the problem. How could you be? You were perfect, you were everything that mattered in the multiverse, and you could do no wrong. It had to be your partners that were the issue, they had to be neglecting your needs and leaving you having to resort to finding different ways to meet them.

OG justice league knew Rick and Jay had some issues, but they had always blamed it on coming from a dimension that had been destroyed by some unknown evil. But as time passed, they started to think that maybe the backstory they had been given wasn’t true.

It came to a head when one day Rick almost gutted Roy after he and Jay had followed you around Coast city, where you had met up with Roy and the two of you had gone on a date, ending with you two back in Roy’s apartment.

Rick and Jay were both cracking as they saw others put their grubby disgusting hands all over you and just doing whatever they wanted. Whenever they heard others insult you, they felt like repeating what they had done in their original universe.

After Rick attacked Roy, he was placed on probation. Jay was more subtle about his plans, as he wasn’t as blinded by rage as Rick and was more fueled by not feeling like he was good enough and blaming himself.

People didn’t even put two and two together for a while when your non league admirers started going missing, only to be found much later dead in many different ways. There was no way to tie the murders together, but it was clear there was a pattern, but no one could figure out what it was.

The league finally discovered just what type of people Jay and Rick were when you one day wandered into the tower. Maybe the league needed your help with something involving the speedforce, or the negative speedforce.

But the moment the two yanderes saw you, it was like they became completely different people, the masks they had been wearing for months shattered as they almost stumbled over each other to get to you first.

You just saw in your seat grinning to yourself as they clambered into your lap, vile threats of what he could do to anyone who touched to passing Ricks lips, as Jay warbled out apologies and begs for you to love him and appreciate him.

The league wasn’t sure what to do, but their suspicions only grew. It got to the point where they somehow track down the dimension the Yans originally come from, to see what really happened. Imagine their horror when they learn Rick and Jay killed all of them out of obsession fueled love for you.

But when they finally figured out the truth, Rick and Jay fully dropped their roles and started chasing you around like lovesick puppies again, butchering anyone who got in their way.

The league could lock them up, but they had also seen what happened when they were separated from you, and as long as they were around you and an had no reason to lash out, they seemed fine for the most part.

You had moments where you would peace out to different dimensions, especially when Rick and Jay started foiling all your attempts to mess around with other people, Rick always exploding in rage and Jay breaking down in tears and wails of misery.

Again, you were never a good person, and they annoyed you sometimes, but it was kinda cute to have them begging for scraps of your attention even as the league tried again and again to capture them and lock them away.

Rick and Jay never find a way to lock you away, you are just too powerful. But they at some point stumble across ways to make themselves stronger so they can keep up. Like making themselves speedsters, or developing gear to follow and track you, they come up with something.

But you learn an easy way to distract them is by piling attention on them for a while, get them comfortable, then you can peace out when they get on your nerves.

Jay is always easier to trick than Rick, as Jay is always aching for any tiny piece of attention and love youll give him, his knees always buckling when you kiss him or hold him, words almost akin to worship always tumbling out from between his lips towards you.

Rick is harder to trick, as hes always suspicious and angry, but an easy way is to dominate him in some way, like tying him up and then leaving him there, leaving him to get out on his own, or get help from Jay if he needs it.

All in all, the league is scared and cautious, but knows they wont be an active threat to the league as long as they have you. And your relationship with your yanderes is nowhere near healthy, with you only loving them like someone would love a pet or a toy, and them loving you way too much.

But what can someone expect from the offspring of Thawne, and two extremely unstable Bats.

320 notes · View notes

yutaholic · 1 year

Text

codename: monster (M)

PAIRING: Jeno (NCT) + reader (female)

SUMMARY: your life is nothing short of idyllic. you have a perfect house, a beautiful daughter and a loving husband. there’s just one rule - never ask Jeno what he does for a living...

WARNINGS: mild language; recurring dialogue related to pregnancy and baby making; explicit sexual content

NOTES: 11k words; this is part of my villain series, beast mode

You were not a curious person. After all, curiosity killed the cat.

Growing up in Hel, you knew the best way to survive in the world’s most dangerous city was to keep your head down and never make waves.

It also helped to have a powerful husband.

Living in a penthouse apartment high above, you often watched the sunset from the wall of windows in your living room. Hel, despite its penchant for evil and debauchery, was stunning when transitioning from day into night.

But when night fell, you were not to leave the house. Ever. Though she was at her most beautiful, Hel was deadly in the shroud of darkness.

The baby in your arms cooed. You bounced her a little, turning to her with a smile and kissing her cute nose. The two of you watched the city come alive as you did each night, millions of lights of vast colors filling the skyline. You loved how they sparkled in your daughter’s eyes.

A familiar set of beeps - that of someone entering the access code and disabling the security system - made you turn on your heels. Work had kept him later than usual tonight.

“Who is that?” you asked cutely. Juno was already wriggling in your arms. She knew that sound too.

The front door opened and Jeno walked in, locking up behind him before setting his keys and briefcase on the table. The buttons of his suit were open and his normally perfect tie was gone, no doubt tucked into his pocket because he couldn’t stand the damn thing for another second.

You gasped dramatically and said, “Is that Daddy?”

Your daughter was unglued, making a dizzying array of excited noises and jumping in your arms. It was only a matter of time before she was able to rush over to him on her own two feet. Your baby was growing so fast.

Jeno grinned the moment he laid eyes on his girls and marched over to you, taking Juno in his big hands and covering her face in kisses.

You smiled as he lifted her over his head with ease and brought her down to kiss her chubby cheeks over and over again. She was giggling and squealing all the while.

Jeno gave her another kiss before cradling her to his chest and meeting your eyes. He looped an arm around your waist and pulled you close, greeting, “Hello, beautiful.”

“Hi, handsome,” you said, leaning into your husband as he kissed you.

“How was your day?” Jeno asked, stealing another kiss.

“Perfect. How was yours?”

He grimaced a little. “Hard.”

You weren’t surprised given the late hour he had finally come home. “Oh…,” you hummed softly. Then, a wry smirk played at your lips. “I’ll make it better.”

Jeno chuckled darkly. “I’m sure you will.”

You practically melted when he kissed the corner of your mouth.

Jeno carried the baby into the kitchen and set her carefully into the high chair. You had dinner hot and ready, as you always did. It was the least you could do, considering how hard he worked. Jeno would try to feed Juno whilst eating his own meal, only for you to fuss at him that his food was getting cold because he was so distracted by every little cute thing she did.

Juno loved when he pretended the spoon was an airplane and Jeno loved spending every spare minute with her. You would find yourself staring at them, wondering how you had been so lucky to find a man that was not only a great husband, but an amazing father.

Since you spent the days with Juno, you were happy to let them have the evenings together. Jeno, despite working all day, had plenty of energy left for his baby girl (and for you after she went to sleep). He cleaned her up after dinner, read her a story or two, and tucked her into bed with one final kiss to her brow, not leaving her side until his daughter was sound asleep.

After tidying up the kitchen, you took a seat on the couch and relaxed until Jeno finally joined you. He sat down and grabbed your legs, draping them over his lap, and said, “Thank you.”

You tilted your head. “For what?”

His eyes were full of stars. “She’s a wonder.”

You smiled from ear to ear, warmth spilling into your chest from your heart. “She’s pretty great, isn’t she?”

“The best.”

You took his hand from your thigh and brought it to your lips to kiss across his knuckles, affectionate. “Thank you for giving her to me,” you told him softly. “And for giving us this life.”

Jeno leaned in to kiss you. “You’re welcome.”

You slipped your arms around his shoulders, tugging him close as you met him the rest of the way, sealing your lips to his. After all these years, he was still the only person you desired in the whole world. The only one who ever made your heart flutter and race.

Jeno could kiss you for hours. His hands kneaded at your hips and roamed around your waist. You were so warm and soft beneath his fingertips, fitting perfectly against him. A tiny groan rumbled in his chest when you darted your tongue into his mouth.

You broke from the kiss, blinking to clear the daze in your eyes, and giggled at the distant look on Jeno’s face like he was just shy of heaven. “I’ve been thinking,” you started.

“About what?”

“She’ll be a year old soon.”

Jeno pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he’d just gotten a sudden headache, and whined, “God, she’s growing so fast.”

You nestled deeper into his lap. “I think maybe it’s time we…,” you trailed, biting your lip. “Gave her a little brother.”

Jeno’s gaze flickered and he arched a brow. “Yeah?”

You nodded.

Fire and lust consumed him in the blink of an eye. You could see the familiar change in his expression and it made your pulse pick up speed. Jeno glanced down at your body in his lap and brushed his fingers over your bare knee.

“You’re ready?”

You nodded again. “I am.”

Jeno tightened his arms around you and brushed his lips over your jaw. “Are you asking me to fuck you raw?”

You sucked in a breath when he kissed over your racing pulse. “Yes.”

His voice dropped to a husky growl. “Are you asking me to come inside you?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, tipping your head back as he nibbled the base of your throat.

Jeno gathered you in his arms and hoisted you up with him, popping your legs around his waist. You clung to his shoulders and trailed impatient kisses up his thick neck, winding your fingers into his hair.

Your heartbeat traveled down between your legs. He made you feel like a creature of need and passion, like it was all you were capable of when you were with him.

Jeno lowered you to the bed and draped himself over you. He kissed you deeply, touching the most intimate parts of you with his rough hands. He parted from your lips just long enough to groan, “Fuck, I can’t wait to see you carrying my baby again.”

You hummed, because your voice wouldn’t work. Your face was hot and your mouth watered. He turned you on to the point of madness. Especially when he took off his shirt and you got to feast your eyes on his perfect form, running your fingers over his chiseled abs and chest.

Jeno kissed his way down your body, over your clothes, and dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. He hurriedly stripped you out of your pants, kissing and nibbling at your sex over your underwear before finally taking them off and tonguing between your folds.

There was something about such a powerful man getting on his knees for you that made you lose what was left of your goddamn mind.

You moaned and pressed your hands into his bulging biceps, his arms hooked around your thighs. Your breaths came faster and louder as he swept his tongue in circles around your clit, stopping only to pump his tongue into your dripping cunt.

Jeno met your eyes and said, “Get naked,” before burying his face back in your pussy.

You tugged off your shirt, but you hesitated at your bra, ever reminded of your breasts that were big and swollen with milk.

“Bra off,” Jeno commanded, biting the inside of your thigh for effect. He was all too familiar with your hesitation. Your husband had loved watching your body change to grow and nurture his baby, and absolutely despised society for telling you to be insecure about it.

Jeno never told you, but he was surrounded by men that openly bragged about fucking their side pieces after their wives had given them children, and he loathed them for it. He’d been there through every minute of your pregnancy, was at your side for the birth of your beautiful baby girl, and knew he would love no woman but you for as long as he lived.

The disrespect made his blood boil and he converted that rage into fuel where you were concerned. If he had to worship your body every single night until you loved yourself as much as he loved you, then that’s exactly what Jeno was going to do.

You hummed when Jeno took your hands in his, lacing his fingers through yours, and brought them to your breasts. He kissed and sucked at your clit, smirking when you clamped your thighs on his head. You started making more noise, turning your head and trying to keep the sounds at bay.

Jeno flicked his tongue over your bundle of nerves, still gripping your hands and your breasts, anchoring you to him and him to you. He smirked at your body undulating beneath him, hips bucking into his mouth then shying away when the stimulation on your clit became too much.

“Jeno,” you stammered out breathlessly, lifting your head before dropping it back on the mattress. “I don’t wanna come yet. Please, baby.”

“Hm?” Jeno mumbled, lapping at your perfect pussy. He fucking loved the taste of you. His and only his. “You don’t wanna come?”

“Not until you’re inside me,” you told him, squeezing his hands. “I wanna come with you.”

Jeno chuckled against your folds, pressing wet kisses to the inside of your thigh in reward. “That’s my good girl,” he growled, sinking his teeth into your flesh. “Only wants to come on my cock when I put a baby in her.”

You nodded, a whine escaping you when he kept tonguing at your folds. Then, you breathed out in relief when he released your hands and stood up at the edge of the bed between your raised legs.

The relief was short-lived, because Jeno teased his hands over your sensitive breasts before reaching between your thighs, two fingers slipping into your cunt while his other hand focused on your clit.

Your eyes widened and you gaped at him, lips parted.

Jeno cocked his head innocently, pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy and rubbing your clit with his thumb. He had your body down to a science and he was very much an expert. “Tell me when you’re right there, baby,” he crooned.

“Fuck,” you moaned, fisting your hands in the blankets beneath you and arching back into the mattress. He was so good at dragging you to the edge and throwing you into one hard orgasm after another. Your pleasure was his pleasure and Jeno wasn’t satisfied unless you were making the neighbors very familiar with his name.

Of course, with the addition of your baby girl, you’d learned to be quiet. And the neighbors were eternally grateful. Though hearing people have sex was the least of one’s worries when living in a city filled to the brim with villains.

Regardless, Jeno would settle for nothing less than your toes curling and your body shaking with what he could do to you.

You always caught yourself wondering how you had been so lucky to find a man that loved you with every inch of his soul. A man that would move heaven and earth to make sure you and your daughter never went without. When asked about his life by others, Jeno never said, “I.” He always said, “We.” And you would just smile at him.

There was no him without you. You were his everything. And he was yours.

“I love you,” you rasped, moaning his name as Jeno worked you to orgasm with his hands.

“I love you more,” Jeno said, withdrawing his fingers when he recognized you at the edge of climax. He propped himself over you and crashed his lips on yours, and you wrapped your arms and legs around him.

Things were a little different since having the baby. Jeno had to prep you more because you were still nursing. Your husband had known the weeks of recovery without sex were harder for you than him, because you missed the intimacy of being entangled with him. And he rewarded your patience with his tongue between your legs every time.

Since then, he’d been wearing condoms until you decided if you wanted another baby or to go on birth control again. Jeno licked his lips at the thought. This would be the first time he could take you without any barriers between your bodies since you were pregnant with Juno. And the memory, no matter how brief it was, of gently making love to you while you were swollen with his baby made Jeno’s cock twitch.

Was it possible to become more in love with someone? Jeno could never wrap his head around it. He fell in love with you all over again when Juno was born, but there were days he felt his love for you grow even more at the smallest of gestures. Like when you soothed him back to sleep after a nightmare. Or the times you nursed him back to health.

Who was Jeno kidding? There were days the mere sight of you smiling at him with that beautiful baby in your arms made him head over heels again.

“Hands and knees,” Jeno ordered, shoving his pants and boxers down around his ankles before kicking them off the rest of the way. His hard cock twitched again at the glistening of your folds and how badly he wanted to slide inside you, raw for the first time in months.

You rolled over eagerly and propped into position, wiggling your ass from side to side in the hopes of enticing him. With the idea of him putting another baby in you, you could feel your walls tightening on nothing, desperate to be filled again.

Jeno slapped his hand on your perfect ass, sending a loud smack through the room followed by a squeak of surprise from you. Though you weren’t totally surprised given your current position. Your husband smoothed his palm over the sting, then teased his fingers between your slit.

“Jeno, please,” you whined like a bitch in heat. “Fuck me, baby.”

Jeno reeled his hand back and gave your sex a firm slap. “Don’t speak again until spoken to.”

You nodded your compliance, shuddering. His dominance did unspeakable things to you.

Jeno grabbed your hips and raked his big cock between your folds, gathering your juices. You fought back a moan until it was a pitiful whine in the back of your throat. He had all the patience in the world while you had none. Jeno let saliva spill from his lips and land on his length, slicking himself up even more.

You gripped the blanket in your fists and cried out when he finally penetrated you, working himself inside until you opened up for him.

“Mm, fuck. That’s my good girl,” Jeno rasped, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Goddamn. How does it feel?”

The sound you made was pure pleasure. “I missed this.”

Jeno bent over you, caressing your breasts, and whispered, “You missed that raw dick. Didn’t you, baby?”

You arched into his chest, lilting your hips back to take more of him in. And that was answer enough. Your husband smirked at you so eagerly working yourself on his cock.

Jeno pinched your hips and brought you down to meet his thrusts, stroking into you at a pace that had you reeling. The bed creaked with his motions and Jeno toned it down only a little, mindful of the sleeping baby in the next room.

“Fuck,” you cried out, stammering your husband’s name. He was deep in the pit of your stomach. And the things he said while he pounded into you were absolutely filthy.

“Mm,” Jeno hissed, drawing you up, his chest against your shoulders. He coiled his arms around you and cupped your breasts in his hands, kissing his way up the side of your neck. “I’m not gonna last long in this tight pussy.”

You chuckled smugly. “Then, don’t.” He’d brought you so close to orgasm with his tongue and fingers. It was obvious why.

The wet clap of your bodies meeting echoed in the bedroom. Jeno shoved you back to the mattress, pinning his hand to the nape of your neck and slamming his hips into your ass. His eyes rolled back. You were so warm and wet, your walls fluttering around him snug each time he thrust in like your body couldn't get enough of his big cock stuffing you full.

“I’m coming,” you whimpered, lips parted. A moan followed your every breath. “Jeno, please. Don’t stop.”

Jeno had no intention of stopping or even slowing down. His body was running on instinct and need. You kept your hips raised in the air, taking every last inch of him, begging him to fuck you like only he could.

Only he fit inside you so perfectly. You were made for each other.

Jeno clenched his jaw, holding his climax at bay, and got a solid grip on your hips to throttle his cock inside you. He could feel you tensing and squirming, on the verge. “Come for me," he said, and it was not a request.

Your entire body spasmed and clenched. You opened your mouth, but no sound came out as orgasm ripped violently through you. Through the ringing in your ears, you could hear your husband coaxing you down, praising you as he always did.

It wasn't until you went slack that Jeno stopped, keeping himself deep inside you and smoothing his hands over your waist. Your cunt kneaded his cock, dripping with your release.

You turned your head and met his kisses, whispering, "Please. Come in me." Reaching back, you grabbed your husband's hands and grinded yourself onto his stiff cock. "Make me take all of it."

Jeno steered you onto your back and hooked your legs in his arms, pressing you into the mattress beneath his weight. “Fuck, baby," he hissed through his teeth. Your body was too much. "You get me so fucking hard.”

You moaned. He didn’t let up for a second, snapping his hips into yours, plunging his cock into your swollen cunt.

“You’re gonna make me come,” he warned, voice strained.

Fisting a handful of his hair, you purred, “And you’re gonna give me a baby.”

That got him. Jeno released into you with a mangled groan, body shuddering against yours as he painted your insides with his load.

You smoothed your hands down his chest and across his back, coaxing him through it. Arching your hips a little to milk every last drop and prolong his ecstasy, you bit your lip to fight a grin that you and only you got to see him like this.

Jeno slumped onto you, burying his face in your neck. You owned him.

You were content to just lay there with him on top of you, still inside you, and ran your fingers up and down his back, feeling the stress and tension leave him with every passing second in your arms.

Eventually, the two of you cleaned up and got ready for bed. Jeno tucked his body around yours after stealing a scalding hot kiss. “Did I hurt you?” he asked a little worriedly.

You shook your head, lashes fluttering. You could barely keep your eyes open, because both your body and your heart were satisfied. Your husband flexed his arm around you and pressed one last kiss to your temple before settling down at last and drifting off.

Needless to say, you slept like a baby, as you always did in Jeno’s arms. It was hard to explain, but you felt like a princess in the lap of a fire-breathing dragon. And there was no safer place in the world than in a dragon’s clutches.

The next morning, you woke to the usual routine. You nursed your daughter (ever grateful that she had reached the stage where she slept through the night) and prepared coffee and breakfast for Jeno. Though you offered to make him lunch to take with him, Jeno insisted on eating at work, saying you already had your hands full with the baby.

Cooking homemade meals for your husband was your love language and he always showered you with appreciation and gratitude for it. He had a voracious appetite - in more ways than one - and you loved satisfying them all.

As you balanced Juno on your hip, you fought a smirk at the ache between your thighs still lingering. You wondered how long before your stomach started to swell. The thought of being pregnant again excited you. Both you and Jeno had siblings, and you wanted the same for your daughter.

Juno was a little disheveled from such a good night’s rest and a full belly of milk, and clung to you with her head on your shoulder, which did nothing but melt you on the spot. She watched you make breakfast and you narrated everything you were doing to her in your softest voice.

Jeno walked out of the bedroom, tying his tie and mumbling under his breath the list of things he needed to get done at the office.

You licked your lips. Seeing that man in his tailored suits made you want to jump him then and there. For the sake of the baby on your hip and the big plate of breakfast that would get cold, you did not. “Hi, Daddy,” you greeted playfully.

Jeno shot you a knowing look with a smirk and pressed a kiss to your lips before stealing the baby from your arms. “Good morning, Juno. Did you sleep well?”

Juno, at this stage, could only make her adorable baby sounds. And the occasional Mama or Dada.

Jeno always pretended to understand her perfectly and responded, “That’s good. Are you helping Mama make breakfast?”

You handed Jeno his mug of hot coffee, which he took with a thank you.

“Alright, my girls,” Jeno said after finishing his breakfast, leaving kisses on you and your daughter’s cheeks. “I’m off to work. Behave yourselves.”

You giggled when his hand reached down to give your ass a squeeze.

Jeno turned and met your eyes, speaking for your ears only, “Don’t worry over last night. It will happen when it happens.”

You nodded. He knew you too well. “I’m excited,” you whispered with a smile.

“Me, too. You’re an amazing mom.”

You flushed, rising to your tiptoes to kiss him one more time.

Jeno left and you carried Juno into the bedroom so the two of you could get dressed to go to the store. It was errands day and you liked to get started early in the morning while most of the villains caught up on sleep from a night of chaos.

At the supermarket, you kept your baby girl in a koala carrier tucked closely to your chest. It may have seemed excessive to everyone else, but not to you. She was your whole world.

“Alright, Juno,” you said, pushing the cart in front of you. “What should we make Daddy for dinner tonight?”

She peered up at you curiously, as if she really wanted to help.

“How about stew? You both love that.”

Juno made no sound of agreement, but kept looking around at the endless items on the racks.

You weren’t surprised she didn’t sound off on the suggestion. Though for the past few months she’d been showing more interest in foods, your daughter preferred milk for the most part. Jeno was making a point of letting her taste almost everything he had to eat. Her favorite snack was mashed up bananas thus far.

With that in mind, you stopped and grabbed a few more jars of baby food, wanting her to at least try every flavor. She didn’t like baby food much, with most of it rolling down her chin as she subtly pushed it out of her mouth with her tongue. Still, you were fixated on making sure your daughter got all the nutrition she needed.

Juno cooed loudly and stared up at you with her big beautiful eyes. Her father’s eyes. You leaned your head down to nuzzle her nose with your own, making her squeal with delight. It was unreal how much love you had for this tiny human.

Your trek through the supermarket continued, mundane as ever. Until things kept appearing in your cart that you hadn’t grabbed.

Brows furrowed, you walked around to the side of the cart and grabbed a box of fruit snacks. Weird, you thought, circling a few steps to put them back. There was no way you had thrown those into the cart. Neither you or Jeno liked fruit snacks and Juno couldn’t properly chew them yet.

Down the next aisle, you grabbed a loaf of bread and when you turned around, a box of pastries was in the cart. Okay, you definitely didn’t get those. Returning them to the empty space on the shelf, you glanced around, your arms cradling the baby tucked to your chest.

“That’s enough shopping for today,” you told your daughter.

She simply looked up at you, having no clue as to what was going on.

You paid for your groceries and loaded them into the back of your SUV. Then, you buckled your baby into her carseat and headed home.

For whatever reason, you couldn’t shake the thought from your head that maybe you were imagining things or possibly going crazy. Thanks to your husband, you didn’t exactly get a full night’s sleep, but you weren’t complaining in the least about that.

Maybe you were overtired. Exhaustion was obviously common among parents with babies.

Back in the safety of your penthouse apartment, you went about your day as normal. When you got pregnant with your daughter, Jeno offered to be the sole breadwinner and let you be a stay at home mom for as long as you wanted, and you eagerly took him up on the offer. You loved being a mom and raising your baby.

Though she was still very young, you spent an hour or so every day working with her on the alphabet. You could tell Juno was smart; she already tried to follow along when you or Jeno read to her.

“J-U-N-O,” you spelled aloud, moving the letter blocks in front of her. “That spells Juno.”

Juno made her cute little noises, her chunky hands grabbing at the blocks.

You left her there on the living room floor for just a moment, stepping into the kitchen to turn off the beeping toaster oven. You’d almost forgotten you were making yourself a bagel. She was such a precious distraction.

When you walked back over to your daughter, you dropped your plate and it shattered into pieces on the floor.

Juno was looking aloft and the four blocks that spelled her name were hovering in a perfect crescent in the air. Then, the moment your plate crashed to the floor, your daughter turned abruptly and the blocks fell before her.

You blinked rapidly. Had you really just seen that?

No, no, no. Your heart sank deeper into your chest. Absolutely not. Your daughter couldn’t have powers. Neither you or Jeno had powers and it took at least one parent to pass them on.

Tears gathered in your eyes. Villains would come looking. Even worse, heroes would come knocking, trying to recruit her.

Or wanting to steal her.

You rushed over and scooped up your baby, the tears running down your cheeks. Juno was unnerved to say the least and she started whimpering, face tensing with sadness and fear at your reaction.

“It’s okay, baby,” you told her soothingly, pulling your phone from your pocket. “I’m gonna call Daddy.”

The phone rang twice and your husband answered with a bemused, “Hello?”

You never called him at work. Not unless it was an emergency, and to date, you hadn't had one before. “Jeno, come home.”

“Baby, I’m working,” he told you a little curtly. Probably because he assumed you were in the mood to try and make a baby with him again.

“Now,” you snapped.

Jeno paused. Never had you taken a tone like that with him and he was downright shocked. “I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up.

You sat on the couch with your daughter in your lap, bouncing your legs up and down with anxiety. Juno seemed none the wiser, content to crawl on you like you were her personal playground.

When you heard the front door beeping, you set your daughter down between her blocks and stood over her, eyes on the door.

Jeno came in and marched over briskly. His eyes were full of panic as he searched you and his child for distress. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Your daughter,” you started, pinching your lips together before turning back to the baby sitting at your feet. When she looked up and met your eyes with a little smile, you said, “Juno, baby, show Daddy your trick.”

Your child glanced between you and her father. You could see the gears turning in her head. Then, one by one, she made the blocks hover in the air. This time, she even gave them a little spin.

Jeno watched with no expression on his face as she juggled the blocks with her mind, making them turn in a perfect circle above her head. Growing bored, Juno ultimately commanded the blocks back down to the floor and gave her father an excited giggle, proud of what she had done as if it was the most normal achievement in the world.

You inched toward Jeno, hiding the sheer wrath and terror coursing through your body, and spoke quietly, “She’s a year old and moving blocks without lifting a finger. What will she be controlling at five or ten?”

Jeno said nothing. His eyes were locked to his daughter and she was staring back at him just as fiercely. A silent understanding passed between them. Power recognized power.

You were tearing apart at the seams and the silence only expedited the process. “Jeno…,” you called.

“I heard you.”

“Then, fucking say something,” you hissed at him under your breath. Anger was slowly but surely working its way up your spine.

Jeno said the last thing you expected. “She’s gifted.”

“That’s not a gift. It’s a curse.”

Jeno recoiled like he’d been slapped and rounded on you, stern. “Don’t say that in front of my daughter.”

You braced a hand on his chest and moved him a few feet away with you, making your lowered voices harder to hear for your child. “Do you know what kind of people will target her for this? People will try to take her from us!"

Jeno realized that was what you were worried about and replied levelly, “They would never get past me and you know it.”

You bit your lip. “Jeno,” you started, hesitating. “Are you…”

He visibly tensed before you. “We made a promise. You swore you would never ask me.”

There was only one rule in your relationship with Jeno - never ask what he did for work. Because, as he said, he would tell you. He was honest and couldn’t lie to you. So he chose to lie by omission. If you asked and he told you, you would have dangerous knowledge and in this city, knowledge could get anyone killed.

Shivering with tears, you whimpered, “What am I supposed to do?”

Jeno studied his daughter from the across the room, his chest filling with pride. “Nothing. Life will go on as normal. I will teach her to control it.”

You devolved into tears, hiding your face in your hands. It hurt that you were scared out of your mind and he didn’t seem the least bit bothered. You felt alone and vulnerable, like only you saw and feared the danger.

Jeno softened and gathered you in his arms. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. Come here. It’s alright.”

You choked on a sob. “Don’t let anyone hurt my baby.”

Jeno held you flush against him tightly, kissing your temple and soothing his hands down your back. “I won’t.”

“I don’t care what you are. Just don’t let anyone take her from me.”

That had your husband’s attention. You needed some consolation and reassurance. Jeno took your face in his hands, wiping your tears with his thumbs. “Look at me,” he said firmly. “Look me in the eyes.”

You did.

Jeno’s voice dropped to a low growl. “Whatever monster you can imagine in your head, I am much, much worse. Do you understand?”

You blinked, making more tears cascade down your cheeks, and nodded slowly. A shiver coursed through you. You would remember those words for as long as you lived.

That night, you stood before the mirror in the bathroom and brushed your hair. Having slipped into your favorite oversized tee of Jeno’s to sleep in, you cleaned off your makeup and washed your face.

Jeno was putting Juno to bed, reading her a story no doubt. You wondered what was going through his mind. He stayed home the rest of the afternoon, calling out of work and citing family issues. Juno didn’t exert any of her power again, almost like she sensed the watchful gazes on her.

There was nothing else to be done in this situation. Your daughter had powers, like so many in this city. They went on to become villains or heroes, ever in a duel for control of Hel.

That was a lie. Everyone knew villains were the true masters of the land.

Giving yourself one last scan in the mirror, you weren’t surprised when Jeno came up behind you, smirking like the devil himself, and smoothed his hands around your waist.

“You wanna make a baby?” Jeno asked softly, his breath hot on your neck. He hiked up your shirt, recognizing it as one of his, and palmed your bare skin.

You frowned and turned in his arms to face him. “You could have told me.”

Jeno sighed. “I know.”

“Any baby I give you will have powers. Won’t they?”

Jeno bobbed his head and then shrugged, quipping, “I guess my gene is dominant.”

You smarted, “Just like the rest of you.”

Jeno chuckled.

Damn it, you could never stay mad at him. Leaning back against the counter, hands gripping the edge, you watched him raking his eyes down your body and kneading your hips in his big, powerful hands. No one ever made you feel wanted and loved like Jeno. You would give him your body, your heart and your soul.

At this point, you already had.

Jeno felt your anger dissipating, no matter how warranted it was, and leaned in to trail his lips up your neck. “Tell me what you want,” Jeno whispered, nipping beneath your ear. “I’ll do whatever you want. All you have to do is ask me.”

That sent a shudder through you. You knew he would give you the moon if you asked. Draping your arms across his shoulders, you told him, “I want to have another baby.”

“Alright. I’ll give you one.”

Jeno fucked you there, right over the bathroom sink. He slapped his hips into your ass from behind, keeping a hand around your throat to make sure you never looked away from your reflection in the mirror as he told you again and again how beautiful you were to him. How he would never love anyone but you for as long as he lived.

Release made your knees buckle and Jeno carried you through it, whispering the sweetest nothings in your ear and holding you to him as you shuddered and cried out his name.

There was one last loud slap of your bodies meeting when Jeno stopped and filled you with his seed, his breaths staggering at the way your walls kneaded his cock through orgasm.

Satisfied, your husband slipped his length from your folds, scooped you up into his arms and carried you to the bed. When he set you down on your back, you carded your fingers into his hair and made him look at you.

“You have to promise me,” you whispered, staring up at him with unshed tears in your eyes. “Swear on any gods you or I believe in that you will protect them.”

Jeno spoke like he was committing the most sacred of vows, “The only god I believe in is you and I swear to you, our children will never know fear.”

You blinked. The weight that had been sitting on your shoulders fled at that moment. You could breathe again. “I don’t care what side you are on. Hero or villain, I don’t care. Just as long as you use whatever gift you have to protect my babies.”

“And you.”

You smiled faintly. “And me.”

Jeno propped himself over you and brushed his lips against yours. “Do you trust me?”

“You are the only person I trust in the whole world,” you replied without missing a beat.

“Till the day I die, I belong only to you. I will burn this city to the ground if it ever crosses you.”

You brought him down for a kiss, tightening your legs around his waist.

Jeno took the next day off from work and told you to sleep in. There were bottles of milk in the fridge that you had pumped and knew Juno was in his perfectly capable hands. You stayed in bed until noon, resting your body and your mind in the hopes of conceiving another baby with him.

And for your own sake, you definitely needed that rest.

When you stepped out into the living room, you were surprised to see a person you didn’t recognize sitting on the couch, but your attention flew to Juno.

Jeno glanced up, noticing you come out, and exclaimed, “Mama, are you watching?”

Your heart was about to burst.

Juno was walking. Well, more or less, she was walking with Jeno’s hands gripping her sides to keep her stable. Juno looked to you, her mouth open with the biggest grin she could make.

“We’ve been practicing all morning to show you,” Jeno said, sweeping Juno into his arms and drowning her in kisses all over her face, making your daughter giggle loudly.

You approached them, taking Juno when your husband held her out to you. He knew you would want to hold her the moment you woke up.

“This is Yuta,” he said, motioning to the man sitting on the couch, who had been watching with a smile.

You acknowledged him. “Hi, Yuta.”

“He has experience with… gifted offspring.”

That had your attention. You raised a brow. “Does he?”

Yuta got to his feet and nodded. “Your daughter is very special.”

You looked at Juno in wonder and kissed her cheek. “I know she is.”

Both Yuta and Jeno chortled.

You sombered, turning back to them, and asked, “What do I need to know?”

“Allow her to express her power,” Yuta replied, surprising you. “The more you stifle it, the more it can grow out of her control. But also set boundaries. She needs to know there are consequences for destructive behaviors. For a normal child, the consequences are less serious, but for children like ours, they can be life and death.”

You looked to your baby, who seemed particularly thrilled at being the center of attention if her wide beaming smile was any indication. Jeno was staring at her with nothing short of adoration and reached over to stroke his finger across her cheek.

“Seems so simple and yet so impossible at the same time,” you droned, mostly to yourself.

Yuta continued, “As for the whole hero versus villain argument, let your kid decide for herself which path she wishes to follow. You may find that trying to force her down one road will drive her into the other.”

Those words rang out in your chest and you took them to heart. Your baby deserved freedom to choose and you would make sure of that. Nodding, you gave him a grateful smile and said, “Thank you, Yuta.”

“You’re welcome.”

Jeno walked him out, leaving you with your daughter. You pressed a reassuring kiss to her face and then another, making her coo and grab at you with her hands. Sighing contentedly, you let Juno hold your cheeks between her palms and press a cute kiss to your nose.

Things were a little tense between you and your husband. Understandably so. You could already sense there would be some disagreement. You avoided him a bit, tucking your daughter in for her nap before you decided to talk to him. That way she would be out of earshot.

Jeno came into the nursery, leaning against the doorway as he watched you rub Juno’s back, speaking in that soothing voice of yours, lulling her to sleep.

The moment you closed the door quietly behind you, you asked, “You called in an expert?”

Jeno nodded. “I needed advice and he’s someone I trust completely.”

If Jeno trusted him, then you did too. He never brought people around your daughter except family, which meant Yuta would really have to be held in high regard to be allowed anywhere near your child.

You followed Jeno out to the living room, noting how heavily he dropped onto the couch like the weight of the world sat squarely on his broad shoulders. It was a heavy responsibility, having such a powerful child.

Taking the spot next to him, you molded yourself to his side and brushed his dark hair back with your fingers. “What’s on your mind? Tell me what you’re thinking. Please,” you whispered softly.

Jeno exhaled loudly through his nose. He stared off into the distance. “I’ve tried very hard to hide that part of my life from you.”

“I know and I’m grateful to you for that.”

Jeno ran a hand down his face and said, “Ignorance is bliss. That is what I wanted for you, for our family. I’d hoped and prayed she wouldn’t be like me, but she is.”

You couldn’t resist anymore and so you asked, “You’re a villain. Aren’t you?”

Jeno slowly nodded.

You leaned even more into him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and comforted when he drew you in and smoothed his hand over your thigh. “Deep down, I always knew.”

“I can’t hide her forever,” Jeno said firmly, finding his resolve. “I have to train her in our ways.”

You blinked in surprise, flinching at the thought. “You want to train her to be a villain?”

“Yes.”

“But… Yuta said to let her choose her own path. She could be a hero,” you reminded him, pulling back a little.

Jeno clenched his jaw and snapped, “My daughter will never be a hero. There is no future for them in this place. They either die as martyrs for a corrupt, abusive system or they die for their selfish sense of justice or savior complex.”

“Jeno…,” you began. This conversation was unnerving you. All your hopes and dreams for a normal life for your daughter - the life you never got to have - were crushed. You imagined a powerful being ruling Hel with an iron fist. Constantly pursued. Endlessly challenged.

So many would want her dead.

Your husband locked his eyes with yours, staring you down. “I won’t allow it. My daughter will never be a pawn in someone else’s games.”

Your lips quivered and your voice shook, because you were on the verge of tears again. “Why can’t she just be a child?”

“She’s too powerful,” Jeno said, then he hung his head. “Like me.”

You clambered out of his lap and turned away, covering your face as tears ran down your cheeks. For a moment, you hated the love of your life, hated him for giving your baby girl his curse and condemning her to a life of villainy and destruction.

It didn’t matter if she became a hero or a villain, she was still your child and you would defend her with your life. Even if she became the most hated enemy of the entire world, the world would have to get through you to reach her.

But your daughter’s childhood was being stolen away right in front of your eyes. She wouldn’t be able to play with other children at risk of hurting them. Would she even be able to go to preschool when the time came or would that be too dangerous?

All that isolation and fear would warp her into something she was never meant to be. Juno was a smiley, happy baby. The day you watched her joy turn to hate would be the day your heart died.

You could never let her become like you.

Jeno reached for you worriedly. He had to remind himself that while he saw his daughter as a perfect, powerful creature, you viewed her as the most fragile glass that could crack at even the slightest touch.

“This won’t happen for many years,” Jeno consoled, wiping your cheeks with his gentle hands. “Of course, she’s a child now. She will have a happy childhood, unlike us, but one day, she will understand what she is capable of and I want her to be strong. I want no one to be able to manipulate her.”

That last part, you could hear a bite in his tone. Something bitter and pained. Sniffling, you asked, “Is that what happened to you?”

Jeno startled. “What?”

“Did someone manipulate you, Jeno?”

Your husband was blank. There was something churning beneath the surface of him, something he had gone to great lengths to hide and keep buried. He stood abruptly, shaken, and said, “I need to go.”

You could hardly believe your eyes, leaping up and watching him stomp for the front door. “Where are you going?” you called after him.

“Out!”

You jolted in place as he slammed the door behind him with enough force it came clean off the hinges and clattered to the floor in pieces.

To say you were furious would be an understatement. Clearly, you had struck a nerve, but you were going to pick that chord until you learned what song it made. The song that could ultimately decide your daughter’s future.

Ignoring the broken door, you went into the nursery and packed Juno’s bag. You gathered your sleeping baby in your arms, apologizing for waking her when she fussed, but the moment she was in the carseat with your SUV cruising smoothly down the streets, she fell right back to sleep.

It was the first time you had ever gone to Jeno’s work. You were under strict instructions never to go there. Nevertheless, Jeno had pointed the building out to you before. Just in case.

The place was rather unassuming, not like the massive skyscrapers that reached the clouds. Whatever type of business was run there, you didn’t know. All you knew was Jeno made substantial money and was a top employee, able to take time off whenever he desired.

You almost laughed. This was the last place you expected to serve as a den for villains. But everywhere you looked in Hel, villains made their mark. Some preferred to work in the dark or where you least expected. Easier to avoid heroes that way perhaps, but most villains didn’t give a damn about fighting it out with heroes. The news was always abuzz with a new battle and the damage that followed.

Ignorance is bliss. You kept hearing those words in your husband’s voice in your head. You weren’t naïve. You had known the safe, luxurious life your husband provided for you and your child came at a cost. But you never questioned it.

You had been through hell. You were willing to overlook things so long as your daughter never had to walk in your shoes.

Today, you would pry. Juno would have what you couldn’t. She would be all that you weren’t. You would make any sacrifice for that without hesitation.

“Mr. Lee, your wife is here,” said the assistant nervously.

Jeno gawked when you walked into his office and exclaimed, “What the hell are you doing here?”

After locking the door behind you, you took off your coat nonchalantly and hung it up on the rack in the corner before answering, “I followed you.”

“Where is Juno?” Jeno asked. One of the few times you had seen him truly afraid.

You marched over to him and said, “She’s with your mother. I’m assuming one or both of your parents have powers to protect her with.”

Jeno nodded, shutting his mouth at that.

You put your hands on your hips and glanced around. The office was dark and minimal. There were no windows to be seen. Jeno was sitting on a brown leather sofa with his legs stretched out. His jacket was thrown carelessly to the floor and he sported only a white tee with his jeans. You could see every bit of the tension in his body.

He was at a breaking point.

You narrowed your eyes in a glare. “God, I’m so angry with you.”

Jeno’s gaze was on your legs. He refused to meet your eyes and that was very telling. “I know.”

“You made me forget who I am.”

Jeno blinked in surprise.

You chewed over your words before finally spitting them out, “Ever since I fell in love with you, I surrendered all of myself to you. It was easier that way. I gave you all the power, because you knew what to do with it.”

“Baby…,” Jeno started, peeking up at you. He couldn’t handle the fury on your beautiful face. It was a searing reminder that he’d failed. He failed at everything he’d set out to do.

To keep you safe. And to keep his baby from turning out like him.

You braced your hands on his shoulders and straddled his lap, earning your husband’s undivided attention. “I don’t have gifts like you or Juno, but I have a strength of my own. I’m a survivor, by any means necessary.”

Jeno forbade himself from getting aroused while this was a very serious and heavy moment, but the weight and warmth of you on his clothed cock was already too much. He figured that was intentional and why you had fucking mounted him the way you had. There was no choice but to submit himself to your mercy.

“You never have to worry about that,” he said roughly, resting his hands on your thighs. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”

You smiled down at him, brushing your fingers over his jaw and lips. “I know. That’s my point. I handed you my reins, but now I’m taking them back.”

Jeno’s brows stitched. “What do you mean?”

You grabbed him by the throat.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jeno rasped, wrapping his hand around your wrist. He could very easily pry you loose, but he didn’t. He liked how your fingers felt digging into his neck.

“You may rule this city, but I rule you,” you hissed, breath hot on his face.

Jeno groaned lowly in the back of his throat, resonating in his chest. His cock was half hard in his pants now, pressing painfully against the zipper of his jeans. Goddamnit.

You smirked at his pulse racing beneath your thumb and told him roughly, “You may have put her inside me, but I breathed life into her. She’s mine. And you will never raise her to be a villain.”

“It’s for her own safety.”

“No,” you shot back. “It’s for your own trauma and your own need for control.”

Jeno grit his teeth and shifted uncomfortably beneath you. You had figured him out easily.

Maybe because you recognized the same signs within yourself.

You released his throat and carded your fingers into his hair, tugging on the strands and making him meet your eyes. “She’s not us,” you whispered, softening. “She will make her own choices, her own mistakes. It is our job to guide her and protect her, not choose her paths for her.”

Something broke inside Jeno then. He loved you and that little girl so much it made his heart hurt. Tears threatened and he pursed his lips with contempt and emotion. “You don’t understand.”

“Yes, I do. I know there are things in your past that shaped you. Things you can’t even speak of. I have demons like that in my past too. They tried to kill me, but I’m still here.”

Jeno whimpered, “I can’t let her ever go through what I did.”

You smiled at him affectionately, your chest burning at the pain he was in. “Me neither. She will break both of our curses, Jeno. This pain ends with us.”

Jeno’s tears escaped and he wiped at them roughly with his hands.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, feeling Jeno embrace you jarringly fast, like he craved the connection with you to soothe his aching soul. “I love you,” you said, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Jeno said your name. “I love you more than anything in the world,” he breathed, then chuckled. “Except Juno. I’m sorry. She’s the only one that outranks you in my heart.”

You laughed, happy to see his humor breaking through all the tension, and assured him, “The feeling is mutual. And if we do happen to make another baby, they will outrank you as well.”

Jeno smirked, kneading your hips in his hands and looking down at your precarious position in his lap. He could feel the warmth of your folds on his cock despite the clothes in the way and he knew you were undoubtedly aware of the hard dick underneath you.

There was something to be said about the two of you airing out your worries and your pain. Jeno felt lighter, like he didn’t need to be carrying this anvil on his chest everywhere. You had broken it down with a few well-placed jabs. Sure, talking about his trauma and his fear was agonizing, but the pain was a necessary evil to healing.

“I kept thinking,” Jeno spoke up, smile fading. “If I locked you and her away, nothing could ever hurt you both.”

“I know. And I went along with it, because I had the same thought.”

Jeno let his head fall back. Validating his feelings sent a wave of relief crashing through him. He stared up at you in reverence, wondering what he had done to deserve someone that made him whole again. “What happened to you?” he asked gently.

You tilted your head, cradling his face and kissing him deeply. Then, you said, “I’ll never tell you, baby. Just like you’ll never tell me how you got your scars. I don’t want you to ever carry that knowledge.”

“If you tell me who hurt you, I will kill them.”

“I know that, because I would do the same for you.”

Jeno smiled.

You coaxed, “Let’s move on and heal together, Jeno. You and me.”

Your husband relaxed. He could never describe what your words and promises had done for him. Hope filled his chest. The thought that his daughter could go through life without being touched and shaped by evil like he had made more tears prick at his eyes.

Fighting them back so he could focus on you, Jeno said, “I’m sorry I broke the door.”

You snickered. “I forgive you.”

“I called the landlord. He’s fixing it.”

You nodded. At this point, you didn’t care. All you could think about was how badly you wanted him, because you loved him so much it was all-consuming.

Jeno licked his lips and asked coyly, “Should I book us a hotel room for the night?”

“Don’t bother,” you taunted, bracing your hands on his abs. “I’m gonna have you right here.”

Jeno’s eyes flickered, widening. His pupils dilated to bottomless wells of arousal.

You slotted your lips to his and kissed him hard, grinding down on his cock underneath you.

Jeno sucked in a breath between kisses, the warmth and weight of you was too much. He palmed at your hips before grabbing handfuls of your ass, squeezing.

You finally broke from the kiss and met your husband’s eyes, smirking at him with mischief written all over your face. You shivered at how he was looking at you; a mix of enraptured and cocky. The little smile tugging on his lips was like a challenge.

A challenge to replace it with something more... carnal.

You clambered off your husband’s lap and stood between his legs, pulling your shirt up and over your head. Jeno eyed your breasts barely held in the bra and leaned in, running his hands up and down your sides and kissing across your ribs. You were quick to shove him back by the shoulders and drop down to your knees.

Jeno took off his shirt as you started unfastening his pants, growling when you teased your lips and tongue down his happy trail. Your every touch was intoxicating, sending a shudder through his body.

You weren’t satisfied until his pants and boxers were wrapped around his ankles, and you fisted his hard cock in your hand the moment it sprang free. You held his shaft and teased your tongue along the veins, giggling when your husband let out a frustrated groan.

“Fuck,” he hissed, throwing his head back into the couch when you engulfed him in your warmth mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking mercilessly on his sensitive tip.

You held him at the base and worked him up with your saliva, peering up at Jeno and feeling your walls clench at the rapture on his face. If you had your way, you would reduce him to nothing in a matter of minutes.

Jeno gathered your hair in his hand, steering you gently up and down his cock. With his other hand, he stroked his fingers over your cheek affectionately and said, “I would die for you.”

You drew back and replied coyly, “I know.” Then, you wrapped your lips around his length again and pressed forward until you’d taken every last inch of him.

Jeno tried to keep eye contact and pinched his lips together in restraint. The gagging, choking sounds leaving your throat each time he sank in were too much and your husband tipped his head back and staggered out a breath.

There was a tightening between your legs and you could feel yourself soaking through your panties. Satisfied that he was extra slick with your saliva, you pulled his cock from your mouth with a pop and clambered to your feet.

Jeno let his hand fall from your hair and reached for your waist, holding onto you whilst you stripped out of your pants and straddled his hips. He watched with bated breath as you steered him into your entrance.

You sank down on him, moaning at the stretch, eyes winched closed. All you could do was rasp his name as your body adjusted around his hard length.

Jeno stared up at you in reverence, a grunt escaping him as he said, “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

You had some idea given how hard he was for you, but you still liked hearing it.

Bracing your hands on his chest, you rolled your hips back and forth. There was a wet squelch every time he bottomed out inside you, your walls clamping down on him with your movements.

“Fuck me,” Jeno groaned, reeling his hands back and slapping them on your ass. “Just like that.”

With him goading you, you picked up the pace, bouncing up and down on his cock, your ass colliding loudly with the tops of his thighs. It was unreal how good he felt and you made yourself bite your lip to keep your cries trapped in your throat, because you knew you undoubtedly had an unsuspecting audience on the other side of the wall.

“God fucking damn,” Jeno groaned, the air whooshing out of his lungs. You were riding him so hard it downright shocked him.

You were taking pleasure from his body, using his cock to get yourself off, and nothing made Jeno want to come more than that. His hands were heavy on your hips, fingers sinking into your flesh to the point of bruising. You were going to milk every last drop out of him at this pace.

And you did.

The moment you tipped over the edge, riding him wildly at the height of your orgasm, Jeno crushed you in his arms and trapped you to him, emptying inside you with a guttural groan that made you shiver and swear even more.

Jeno was shaking like a leaf below you and you carded your fingers into his hair, his breath hot on your neck. You collapsed on top of him, a tiny noise escaping you when his soft length slipped from your folds. Jeno grasped your knee, hooking your thigh across his waist as he settled back into the couch.

“I know I promised never to ask,” you said shyly, making senseless patterns on his chest with your fingertips. “But please allow me one question.”

“You waited until after draining my balls to ask. I see you,” Jeno smarted, chuckling.

You snorted back a laugh. Then, your face turned somber. “Have you ever used your power on me?”

“No.”

You arched a brow. “You promise?”

He nodded. “It takes all of my strength every second you’re in my arms not to use my power on you,” your husband whispered and you absolutely believed him.

“Restraint is the hardest part of being a villain?”

Jeno looked down, marveling just how good your naked body looked on his. He smoothed his hands down your waist and landed on your thigh hooked over his hips. “I could destroy this city with my bare hands, baby,” he whispered darkly.

You shivered a little.

“You know, I used to look at my hands and see only death. Then, when you gave birth to Juno and I held her, everything changed for me.”

You melted into him. Just the thought of the baby you had made together caused your heart to take off and soar inside your chest.

“I couldn’t believe something so beautiful came from someone as evil as me.”

You cupped his cheek in your hand, turning him to face you, your lips brushing his. “I don’t care what you’ve done. I will always love you.”

“You saved my life,” Jeno confessed in a whisper. “You and that baby girl saved me from my demons. And from myself.”

You smiled.

Jeno kissed the corner of your mouth and said, “She may have my power, but she has your heart.”

#nct #nct smut #jeno #jeno smut #jeno x reader

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