Platonic Daddy! Yandere! Wilson Fisk X Little! Willing! Reader X Reluctant! Platonic Mommy! Vanessa Fisk

Platonic Daddy! Yandere! Wilson Fisk x Little! Willing! Reader x Reluctant! Platonic Mommy! Vanessa Fisk

This was messily written. I wrote as it came to me. I will edit this.

Warnings: Kidnapping, Gun Violence, Violence, Human Trafficking, Yandere Behavior, Forced Relationships, Forced Breastfeeding.

KingPin (DareDevil series/comics) inspired.

Summary: You started working in a shady restaurant and met a scary regular. Somehow you ended up kidnapped and with a new set of "parents"

You were just a waiter at a restaurant, nobody really. All you did was wait tables all day at some restaurant that never had a full house since you've worked there. One man was a regular, he would come in four times a week for dinner. He wasn't the only regular, but he was the most memorable regular. With his enormous height, heavyset body, complete bald head, stark white suit, and bright blue eyes, he was utterly noticeable.

The only other waiter, the first time he came, was intimidated by his physique so you had to be the one to take his order. The man looked so tired, as if he just woken up, and it compelled you to give him a cup of coffee on the house. He ordered two different plates and a fountain drink, of which he had three refills. You waited on him like any other person, cracked a few jokes, and wished him a good day. Before he left, his plates and cup empty, he personally gave you a tip and thanked you for the coffee. The tip was a fifty dollar bill.

It wasn't completely unknown to you that more unsavory people would come into the restaurant. Ranging from small-time thugs to ring leaders of criminal organizations. It was a blessing and a curse for the restaurant and its employees. Everyone actually paid for their meals, some would leave big tips like the man, and it kept the business going. There would be times someone would get too much and create a ruckus, once there was a shoot out once, which you thankfully didn't witness. Because of the danger you were able to easily get a job, a job you desperately needed.

Ever since you graduated, you haven't been able to land a job due to inexperience. As the years went by you were desperate to find a way to no longer be a burden on your family. So you decided to walk around the more dangerous parts of the city and found a help wanted sign in the window. Your coworkers were great, the chefs were friendly enough, and your boss, the owner, gave you a decent wage. It was truly a blessing even if the environment was dangerous.

It had been six months of working, two months of knowing your memorable regular ("Call me Wilson."), when you witnessed your first shooting. A customer was complaining about their food, a street thug, and gave your coworker a hard time. Your regular, the large man, was just about to tell you his order when a shot rang out. The thug had just shot your coworker, your friend, and your fight or flight response came in. You were in fight mode.

Grabbing the first empty chair in arms reach, you slammed the chair on the back of the fleeing thug's head. They went down hard, dropping their gun, and cursing you. Their two friends got out their own guns and pointed at you, before they could shoot, a large shadow towered over you.

"Now, that's no way to treat a lovely lady." Wilson, your regular, said in a gravelly voice. The others paled and lowered their guns.

"Lovely lady my ass, she busted my skull open." The thug on the ground shouted, still turning around holding his head. "I'm gonna fucking kill the bitch." As he turned around and saw Wilson, he also paled. "Mr. Fisk, sir, I didn't see you there." He stammered.

Your friend groaned, holding their side, you dropped the chair and went to their side. It looked like they were shot in the leg, you took off your apron and put pressure on the wound.

"Look, I didn't know you came to this joint." The thug continued to stammer. Ambulance and police sirens could be heard outside. "Listen, I'll never come back to this place, I promise."

"That's a promise you can keep behind bars." You heard the guy scramble, a loud wet crunch, and a scream. You looked up to see Wilson stepping the thug's hand, that was reaching for his gun. His friends ran out in a panic, the police came in to take the thug and question everyone. Your friend was taken to the hospital.

When your family heard what happened, they begged you to quit, find another job. You compromised with them, sending your resume to different job openings, only quitting when somewhere else hires you. Wilson still stayed a regular, still giving you large tips, and your coworker came back a month later. Everything went back to normal, but you never received a call back from the places you applied.

When it was your anniversary of working at the restaurant, your coworkers set up a small party after closing. It was dark when everyone started to go home. As you approached your car someone behind you covered your face with a cloth and your world went dark.

Voices shouted around you as you woke up.

"I'm just saying this is a bad idea."

"Please, that Chinese bitch asked for girls, she didn't say from where."

"But, the Kingpin's rules."

"I don't give a shit about his rules. He broke my fucking hand and almost sent me to prison. All over some fat bitch in a shitty joint."

You noticed you were tied up and your mouth was taped shut. You were in the back of a van with two other girls in the same position. One girl started to panic and screamed behind her closed mouth.

"Shut them the fuck up." You look up and notice the thug that shot your coworker and his friends.

The one sitting in the back took out a needle syringe and injected the screaming girl with it. After a while the girl went limp.

"Shot them all up, we're almost there and I don't want any of them struggling." After a sharp pinch the world was no more.

The next time you woke up, you were naked and in a room with other girls. They were either naked like you, or wore plain lingerie that barely covered anything. After a while someone threw a bag filled with plain lingerie, and you noticed you, and other bigger girls, were the only one left without clothes. Later water bottles were thrown in, only enough for half of the girls. Some girls were selfish and hogged a whole bottle, others shared. What felt like a whole day, a few buffer men came in and took a few girls by force. The next day more men came in to take more girls. It kept repeating, after the fifth time you and the other bigger girls got lingerie. More girls were brought in.

After what felt like two weeks, you were nibbling on some stale bread when they took all the bigger girls. You were terrified, wondering what will happen to you. You and girls were lined up in front of a group of people, a girl squeezed your hand and you squeezed back. When you looked around, you were surprised to see Wilson in the group. He also seemed surprised when his eyes landed on you.

"As you can see Mr. Fisk, we in fact respect your wishes." An Asian man in front of an elderly woman said. She was sitting in a chair and said something in her native tongue. "I always make sure to leave your territory alone, never picking from your fields."

"Is that so?" Wilson said. He stepped forward and took out his hand. "Come here, y/n." He called out. You clutched onto the other girl. "It's all right, sweetheart, I'm here to take you home."

The old woman shouted. "I'm sorry, but I think you're mistaking the merchandise for someone else." The man then tried soothing the old woman in their native tongue.

You felt your eyes water at being called merchandise, you were a human, not a thing. Wilson called out your name again. You let go of the girl. He said he would take you home and you wanted to go home.

When you reached him, you threw your arms around his middle and cried into his chest. He patted your head and rubbed your back. "It's alright, it's alright. Now tell me, who brought you here?"

"The guy that shot my friend and his friends." You said between sobs.

"My poor little sunshine, you must have been so scared." He kissed the top of your hair. "Don't worry, everything will be alright now." He used his strength to leave you in his arms. You buried your face in his shoulder, clutching the front of his suit. "You broke our deal."

The woman shouted. "We had no idea she was one of yours. Whoever brought her to us is at fault." The man translated.

"Whoever brought her here was under your orders. " He started to walk away. "I expect compensation for the kidnapping of my daughter." There was a sharp inhale. Daughter, why did he call you his daughter?

He brought you to his limo and settled you in his lap, covering you with his jacket. "It's alright, princess. Once we get home you'll have a nice bath, a warm meal, and I'll tuck you in bed. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Your body felt numb, but nodded. Finally getting clean, real food, and a bed sounded like a dream. You pressed close to him to get warm.

When he carried you out of the limo, you didn't recognize your surroundings. He took you to what looked like a luxury apartment complex. Taking the elevator, he pressed the top floor button. It looked like his private condo took up the whole floor.

He finally sat you down in a chair in the bathroom. He filled the overly large tub with warm water and bubbles. When the tub was full you expected him to leave, but instead he started to take off the lingerie you wore. You shrieked and scooted away from him.

"It's alright, sweetie. I know you're scared, but you should let daddy take care of you." He said.

"I can wash myself." You stammered back.

"I know you're my big girl, but daddy hasn't seen you in days." He grabbed your arm, preventing you from moving away. Taking off the last bit of article that covered you, he picked you up and placed you in the tub. Grabbing a washcloth he started to scrub your body. You jumped at that.

"Please, I can wash myself." You cried.

"No, no," he shook his head, "I said I was going to take care of you. Daddy will make everything better and you'll get to see your friends tomorrow. Doesn't that sound fun?"

It scared you, having a large man handle you. You had no idea why he kept calling himself "daddy", or why he was insistent on treating you like a child. He was just a regular at the restaurant you work at. You decided to comply. If a man could easily carry someone like you around, who knows what else he could do.

When he finished giving you a bath he picked you up from the tub, wrapped in a large towel, and carried you to a bedroom. He placed you on a bed and dressed you in childish looking underwear and soft pajamas with your favorite childhood characters. Not only was it embarrassing, but it had you questioning why the man had such clothing in your exact size. He picked you back up and sat you at a dining table.

"You sit there while daddy gets you your favorite soup." When he left for the kitchen, you debated on whether or not to try to leave. You decided against it, you had no clue where you were and he did say you were going to see your friends tomorrow. Maybe he wasn't that bad of a man, maybe this was his strange way comforting you.

As promised, he came back with a bowl of your favorite soup and a juice box. Before you could grab the spoon yourself, he lifted the spoon to your face. "Open wide." He looked at you expectantly.

"I can feed myself." You stuttered, feeling your cheeks blush. You looked at the ground embarrassed at the situation even more.

He placed a hand on your chin, forcing you to look at him. Looking up, you felt smaller than you ever had, especially with his large stature. "Just let daddy spoil you, ok?" Once again, you wordlessly nodded, afraid of what might happen if you said no.

He fed you like a baby, wiping your face after each spoonful, and occasionally held up the juice box for you to drink from. When the bowl was completely empty, he picked you up again. "It's time for bed."

He took you to the same bedroom as before. You finally looked around and saw what looked like a child's bedroom. Your favorite color painted the walls, shelves filled with children's books, a desk covered in coloring books and crayons, a toy box, childish furniture, and a bed with sheets covered in your favorite childhood characters. It made you bewildered why the man had such a room in the first place.

As he tucked you in bed, he gave your forehead a kiss. "Sleep tight my little princess. Daddy has to take care of business, but if you need anything the nanny will be just outside, ok?"

"Ok." You said automatically.Nanny? So he's keeping a guard on you? There goes your ability to escape and go back home to your family.

Finally laying on a soft bed after days of barely sleeping on the floor, you eventually feel asleep. By morning Wilson was waking you up. He took you to the bathroom to do your business, without leaving, and gave you a brightly colored toothbrush. Today's saving grace was that he allowed you to walk, but held onto your hand. He still changed your clothes, putting on something that you would normally wear. You ate breakfast without help and he took you to work via a chauffeur.

Before you could jump out of the car, Wilson asked for a kiss. So close to freedom, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. He finally let you go after he gave his own kiss and wished you a good day.

When you walked into the restaurant, you were ambushed by your coworkers once they saw you. Apparently Wilson told them he would bring you back, but they didn't believe it. The owner asked if you actually wanted to work today. You told them that you wanted to go home, since you hadn't seen your family yet. They took you home.

Your family was overwhelmed when they saw you, you all cried. They called the police to inform them you returned and they came to question you. You gave them the descriptions of the three men that took you and two people that were behind it. You didn't mention Wilson picking you up, only saying you managed to escape and run into someone who helped you.

After winding down, you had a celebratory lunch with your family for your safe return. No one went to work that day and held onto you tight. When it was a little past your working shift, a knock came from the door. When a knock came from the door, you were surprised to see Wilson at the door when a family member opened it. When he asked for you, your family was suspicious of him. You blurted out that he was the one that helped you, that made the family welcome him in open arms. They insisted he stay for dinner, to show their appreciation.

The women, and few of the men, were in the kitchen preparing traditional dishes for an army. Wilson sat with you on the couch, your family treated him like he was a part of the family. When he placed an arm over your shoulder, some of your family members gave a teasing glance. They were the ones insistenting you should have been married already. If only they knew he didn't see you as a lover, but as a daughter.

You couldn't help but cuddle into his side, enjoying the feeling of being small. You haven't felt small in years, you usually were the biggest person in the room. When dinner was ready, you began insisting that your favorite food was the best. You plated most of the food for Wilson, almost forgetting his strange nature from yesterday. When the day winded down, only your closest family members stayed over. Wilson left as well, you gave him a hug goodbye.

It took two days for you to return to work, you were grateful that you even still had a job. Wilson came in that day for lunch. When no one was looking, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. He seemed surprised by that. When he finished, he gave you your usual tip and a note that asked you to come home with him during the weekend.

You felt nervous and questioned your sanity for actually going to his place. He babies you the whole weekend, treating you like a toddler. You enjoyed cuddling with him on the couch while watching children's movies and shows, when he fed you, when he changed you, when he carried you around, and when he would call you nicknames. Your "nanny" was someone called Hildy, a no nonsense woman that treated you like a child without asking questions. It made you feel carefree, like you had nothing to worry about for about two and a half days.

It was a routine for about a year, your family thought you were dating, your coworkers never questioned Wilson's behavior towards you. You never once imagined that you would be in the situation you found yourself in. One morning, when Wilson left for "business," you groggily got out of bed to ask Hildy for a glass of water. A woman was in the living room with her, demanding where Wilson was. When she looked at you, with your bed hair, she assumed you were sleeping with him. You made a face at that. "Gross, he's my daddy." You told her. Later you were properly introduced to Vanessa.

Vanessa did not accept the type of relationship you had with her boyfriend. Well, not at first. After your third week, she saw everything that Wilson did with you. She was still hesitant, but you guess Wilson told her something because she started to join him for lunch at your workplace. You treated them like normal customers and she seemed nervous the whole time. The next weekend, Wilson had her feed you and read you a bedtime story. The next week he had her change your clothes and cuddle you while watching tv. Then it escalated to her bathing you. She tried to touch you in a sexual manner while bathing you, you screeched and cried like a child. Wilson was angry at her and kicked her out. You didn't see her for two weeks.

The next time you saw her, she apologized and promised to never do that again, you were weary of her. You clung to Wilson whenever she was around, hiding behind him, hiding behind daddy. He kept you safe. But he wanted Vanessa to be your mommy. When it seemed like you weren't getting used to her, something happened.

When you entered the condo after being picked up from work, you noticed Vanessa waiting on the couch. She was wearing a loose button up, and gestured you to her lap. Daddy didn't let you hide behind him, he picked you up and sat you on her lap. You started to cry, wondering what was happening. "She's just being fussy, aren't you princess?" Daddy cooed. "Our poor baby must be hungry. Don't you think so, honey?"

"Yes." Vanessa stammered.

"Well, aren't you going to feed her?" Vanessa started to clumsy unbutton her shirt. You wanted to panic, to pull away from her, but daddy kept you in place. Vanessa exposed one of her breasts.

"Here, eat." She tried to push her breast into your force. Daddy stopped her and scowled.

"Don't force it, let her latch naturally." He patted your head and adjusted you so your head was next to her breast. "Come on sweetheart, aren't you hungry?" He encouraged. "Has daddy ever let you astray?" No, daddy has never let anything, or anyone, hurt you.

Shyly, you latched onto her nipple, she gasped and daddy praised you. As you sucked, you tasted something sweet and warm. You sucked harder and more of the sweet nectar came rushing into your mouth. Vanessa was lactating! "That's a good girl, eating without a fuss." Daddy praised. "And mommy is being so good at feeding our precious baby."

You could hear Vanessa cry, but you didn't let it bother you. You were hungry and she was feeding you yummy milk. When her breast was empty, you whined for more. Daddy took out her other breast since Vanessa was still crying. You drank until you sucked her dry. Happily humming with a full stomach, you nuzzled into your new mommy. She gave you nice warm milk and daddy said she was mommy. Your weekends now included drinking milk from mommy, who cried from happiness at being able to feed her baby.

𝘿𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙈𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧! | 𝘛𝘞𝘚𝘛 𝘟 𝘍𝘌𝘔! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Who knew walking down the street would cause you to die by not one but TWO Trucks...oh was it painful~

But don't worry! I got a sweet deal for you! Become our Lonely and sad Dormleader's mother and change their stories~ Sadly our sunshine Kalim Al Asim will be left out...but dont worry Dear [Name], Jamil will take his place~!

-----DEAREST MOTHER LIST-----

𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐡 | ᴿⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ ᴿᵒˢᵉʰᵉᵃʳᵗˢ After getting hit, You wake up as RIddle Rosehearts Mother...She was such a cruel mother...I hope your not the same~ [CLICK HERE FOR 'ROSEBUSH' MASTERLIST]

𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 | ᴸᵉᵒⁿᵃ ᴷⁱⁿᵍˢᶜʰᵒˡᵃʳ After getting hit, You wake up as the Second wife of King Kingscholar...only to find out your Leonas Mother... [CLICK HERE FOR 'ALWAYS SECOND' MASTERLIST]

𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 | ᴬᶻᵘˡ ᴬˢʰᵉⁿᵍʳᵒᵗᵗᵒ After getting hit, You wake up as Azul's Mother, a week after Azul's family broke...what will you do~? [CLICK HERE FOR 'PUREST WATER' MASTERLIST]

𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 | ⱽⁱˡ ˢᶜʰᵒᵉⁿʰᵉⁱᵗ After getting hit, you wake up to Vil, Your toddler crying...somehow this plot of Vil's life was different than in the games~ [CLICK HERE FOR 'MIRROR MIRROR' MASTERLIST]

𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧…𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 | ᴵᵈⁱᵃ ˢʰʳᵒᵘᵈ After getting hit, You wake up to Idia...who is somehow your son...and no father of him around...oh wait? Are you pregnant...? [CLICK HERE FOR 'DOWN UNDERGROUND' MASTERLIST]

𝐕𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐢𝐭 | ᴶᵃᵐⁱˡ ⱽⁱᵖᵉʳ After getting hit, You wake up to Jamil crying for you...oh dear~ What's been making him cry? [CLICK HERE FOR 'VEMON PIT' MASTERLIST]

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐧 | ᴹᵃˡˡᵉᵘˢ ᴰʳᵃᶜᵒⁿⁱᵃ After getting hit, You wake up to...LILIA? Who's worried sick about you...After finding out about the death of Your 'husband' you left with a little Dragon Egg and a worried Fae [CLICK HERE FOR 'DRAGON'S DEN' MASTERLIST]

-----DEAREST MOTHER LIST-----

Hello, This is my first masterlist on this account... I been having this Idea for a while now, Since there's none about being The TWST Parents and I been wanting to give Riddle a better Mother for I made this!

UPDATES ARE REAL FUCKING SLOW

NINE TO FIVE, FIVE TO NINE Yandere Married Boss x Office Siren Reader

AN: RAHHH. IT'S FINALLY HERE. This took me way longer then it should have but I'm really proud of it. I hope it lives up to the expectations of the 400ish people who liked the original post. This ones filled with shitty people all around. TW: 18+ ONLY, NON-CON, Older Male/Younger Female (mid 30s, mid 20s), Abuse of power (Boss/Employee), Infidelity, Face-Sitting, Cunnilingus, Switch Man, Switch Woman, PIV sex, Manipulation, Roofies, Kidnapping, Mentions of Divorce, Mentions of Pregnancy

Every quarter, your company’s HR department sends out an employee satisfaction survey, and every quarter when you reach the “What is your favorite part of working for our company?” question, your answer is the same.

You love the community. Your colleagues are respectful and hardworking; willing to go the extra mile to ensure deadlines are met. You feel as though your work contributes to something larger and that your efforts don’t go unnoticed by your employers. 

Very cute. Very professional. It would be the perfect answer if it wasn’t all bullshit. 

Your coworkers are fine, but not worth a twenty minute commute and shitty benefits. What actually keeps you slugging into work every morning is far less… admirable. It isn’t something you could write on a company survey without consequences, at least.

Your favorite part of your job is bouncing on your boss's cock.

Yes, you know, “shame on you” — but it’s not like you intended to be an office siren. When you applied for the job all you wanted was to make rent. This was your first “adult” job, so in adult fashion, you tried to keep things professional. 

Emphasis on tried.

It's just... how could you work to your fullest when you were spending all day fantasizing about those toned forearms pinning you down? How were you supposed to answer emails when you were busy wondering if he looked better in or out of his suit? Everyday he sat five feet away from you looking so pent-up and fuckable, could you really be blamed for getting distracted? The hit to your productivity was a detriment to the company. You were just being a responsible employee by fixing the issue.

Yes, he’s ten years your senior. Yes, there’s a blaring ethical issue with a boss fucking his secretary. But he’s a man of childrearing age and you’re a fertile young woman; it’s not your fault you have biological urges.

Besides, it’s not like he’s absolved from blame. You certainly don’t force him to lie down on the couch in his office and pull you onto his face. The desire for you to cum on his nose is entirely his own.

“Fuck, Y/N.” his groan vibrates up into your core, pulling the knot in your stomach tight. One rough hand lies at your waist, following your hips as they roll against his mouth. The other works at his perked up cock, lazily tugging up and down as he devours your cunt. “That’s it baby, ride my fuckin’ nose.”

He’s been at it for nearly half your lunch break now, lapping and sucking at your folds in lieu of his actual meal - not that you’re complaining. How could you, when his tongue is so adamant? It flicks through your folds greedily to earn more of your juice, savoring the salty-sweet taste he’s become so addicted to. Every slurp, lap and suck is catered specifically to your preferences.

You've done well with him. When you first took him under your wing he’d never even eaten pussy before, in fact, he’d only ever slept with two women. Not for lack of desire, he told you, he just never had the time or confidence to flirt in his twenties. Before he knew it, time got away from him and he was past the age where hookups are deemed socially acceptable. 

Your heart broke for him. A man as handsome as him shouldn't be having mediocre sex. So you, being the selfless woman you are, offered to help him make up for lost time. 

It only took one blowjob for him to overlook the ethics of the situation.

With a gentle hand, patience, and lots of encouragement, you’ve turned the businessman into a first rate manslut. He fucks and eats pussy like a veteran now and he’s always eager to get more practice, he drags you onto his face nearly every time he calls you into his office.

He’s come a long, long way, your little pet project.

Inadvertently, you thrust your hips forward, grinding your clit against the bridge of his nose. His tongue burrows itself into your hole, and that’s enough to send you over the edge. Your belly goes taut, your thighs clamp around his ears and you bite your lip to stifle your scream as the contractions roll through your body. Each one sets off fireworks. Fizzing and popping like sparklers in your tummy. Mind-numbing, toe-curling, perfection.

He’s an absolute mess when you climb off of his face. Completely blissed out, face dripping with juices and saliva, glistening in the light pouring through the window. The collar of his pristine white dress shirt is drenched and wrinkled, most likely ruined, but he doesn’t seem to care in the slightest. No, his hungry eyes haven't left that cute little mound between your legs.

“Bend over the desk.” he growls, leaving a smack on your ass as you pull yourself up, and despite the sting you can’t help but smile at his confidence. He’s a far cry from the man he was before you got your hands on him.

You decide to reward him with a little show; swaying your hips teasingly as your stilettos click across the floor, obediently laying yourself over the smooth mahogany, keeping a light arch in your back so he has a nice view of your ass. 

You smile coyly at his reddened face, “You coming, Boss?”

His adam's apple bobs and he makes his way over, eyes dark and dilated, cock leaking beads he positions himself between your legs.

“We only have fifteen minutes before my lunch ends,” you purr, “You think that’s enough time to make us both cum?”

"That’s more than enough~" he growls, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking back so he can purr in your ear, "Do you want my cock in this tight little cunt, Y/N? Do you want me to fill you up?"

You frantically nod, accentuating the act with an exaggerated whimper and needy roll of your hips.

"Beg for it then." he hisses.

If you were in a sadistic mood you might test how long you could make him hold out, but you feel like indulging him today, so you look back at him all teary and doe-eyed. "Please, please, please, Sir. I need your thick cock in my tight little cunt! I can't - Ah! - I can't take it anymore!"

A loud groan tumbles past his lips as he lines himself up, tracing the fat head up and down your slit,  “Slutty thing. That’s alright baby, I’ll give you what you—”

The clink of something falling off his desk interrupts the thought. The object in question rolls a few feet across the wood floor before wobbling in circles and finally lying flat.

His wedding band glitters innocently in the afternoon sun, silently mocking its owner and his mistress.

Ah, the elephant in the room.

Yes, you know he’s married. If the ring wasn’t enough of a tell, the picture of the two of them on his desk is. He's about a decade younger in it, grinning wide as she presses a kiss to his cheek. They took it in France during their honeymoon, he told you. 

You’ve never met his wife, but you can tell from the picture that she’s the quintessential college sweetheart. The type of girl who’s never drank, smoked or had a cavity. The kind of girl you propose too at the park and settle down with in a white picket fence suburban neighborhood. The kind of girl who says “Not tonight, honey.” when you ask to have sex at the end of a stressful day.

In layman's terms, she's boring.

And clearly, she isn’t taking care of him correctly. He was so obviously pent up when you started flirting with him, just a glimpse of your cleavage was all it took to get him rock hard.

Of course it’s morally reprehensible, but you could argue that making him work his dull 9-5 everyday for nothing in return is wrong too. Somebody had to help the guy out. If she wasn’t going to do her job then you’d have to do it for her.

The guilt nearly killed him at first. The day after the first blowjob he dragged you into his office and furiously—or maybe desperately—started pacing up and down the room. Giving you the “We can’t do this. For Christ’s sake Y/N, I’m married.” speech, whether he was lecturing you or himself, you aren’t entirely sure.

Still, you listened patiently as he rambled, and eventually you decided it was best to back off. It was a disappointment for sure but you'd get over it. You were too hot to be meddling in people's marriages anyway. 

At least directly meddling.

You didn’t make any more blatant advances, but you did start wearing dresses and skirts that fell a tad too short to be considered work appropriate. The necklines of your tops started plunging too, showing off as much cleavage as you could without HR getting up your ass. And you suddenly became very clumsy. “Accidentally” dropping things whenever he was around, or leaning over his desk just enough to give him a nice look down your shirt. 

Not even a week later he pulled you into his office, all but begging on his knees for you to fuck him. That was your green card. You aren’t to blame if he’s the one who instigated. So you rode him like a mechanical bull, chest filled with pride as you looked at that stupid picture of him and his wife.

You always get what you want in the end.

Dispite your victory however, his wife remains a thorn in your side. Your boss has gone completely soft staring at that dumb ring, thinking of his dumb wife who probably couldn’t suck a dick to save her life. No wonder he’s cheating, the bitch pisses you off and you’ve never even met her.

Holding back an exasperated sigh, you give his tie a gentle tug. You soften your face as he turns back, gently--teasingly tracing your thumb along his jawline, stopping at his chin to gently tilt it up. And though he obeys the silent command, the shame swimming in his eyes makes your smile waver.

It irks you, for some reason, how upset he is by this. Maybe that’s selfish. Maybe you should have more sympathy, but you can’t push past the desire to keep him for yourself. You may have won, but did you really if his heart is still hers? 

That’s something to address another time. Getting him hard again takes precedence right now, you’re not going to let that bitch get between you and his dick.

You pull yourself off of his desk, grabbing his hand gently. He follows you to the couch—far more hesitantly then you’d like—but he doesn’t complain when you lie him down and climb on top. He never complains when you climb on top. You leave a sweet kiss between his eyebrows and the cute, attention-starved thing burns bright red. Adorable.

“You’re alright.” You caress his stubbled cheek, slowly coaxing him with honey-sweet kisses, like a siren luring a sailor to his doom. “It’s not your fault you have urges, remember? You’re a grown man, it’s not healthy for you to be so pent-up.” 

His throat clicks with a heavy swallow when your hand moves down, gently wrapping around his soft penis, stroking it lightly, teasingly, all while flashing your big, lust-blown eyes and quivering lip. The rod in your hand fills out shamelessly, and like a bad habit, his eyes flick back down to your pretty cunt. You can tell he’s itching to touch, his morality holding on by a thread, but he’ll always fold to you in the end. You, and your torturous little pocket of bliss.

“That’s it baby.” you purr, picking up his trembling hand and placing it over your clit, “Little circles, just like I taught you.” As soon as his hand starts moving he’s putty in your hands again; any remaining penitence completely snuffed out. He’s hypnotized. Pussy-whipped. Rubbing your little pearl with rough pads, working it like a joystick and groaning licentiously as you trace the head of his cock up and down your folds. You line yourself up, leaning forward so you’re hovering just a few centimeters away from his face, close enough to feel his hot breath on your lips.

“We both know she can’t give you what you need. But I can. I’ll make you feel so good~” you purr, letting one hand find it's way up his shirt to trace over his trembling torso. Little bumps erupt all over his skin when the tip of his cock catches in your little divot. You can't help your lips from curling up.

You lower yourself so your hole swallows just the tip, and his breath hitches beneath you. You clench in response, just a little squeeze to remind him who makes him feel good, who his cock really belongs too, and if the bubbling moan that passes his lips is anything to go by, he got the memo.

You ghost your lips over his neck, nibbling lightly at his sensitive pulse point, teasingly tracing a little heart over his pecs, “Just relax and let me take care of you, okay?” 

He all but whimpers as you drop yourself down, white-knuckling the sofa, so overwhelmed you swear his eyes start tearing, and when you finally reach the base he groans like he’s seen heaven. You don’t think about his wife, or his ring, or morality while you bounce on his cock. Not a flicker of guilt passes through your mind when he bucks and fills you with his cum. Why should it? Your job is to ensure your boss's needs are met while he's in the office, and you’re doing just that. His life after five pm is none of your concern, really.

—

About two months later you find an unassuming sticky note on your desk, scrawled over in his chicken-scratch handwriting.

Come to my office at 5, we need to talk.

It strikes you as odd. Normally he’d just come talk to you about any arrangements, lay a gentle hand on your shoulder and bend down to whisper something filthy in your ear, but your boss is nowhere in sight. Not on the office floor checking up on his employees, not in the break room making idle chatter while he refills his coffee, your boss stays holed up in his office all day, and when you walk in to give him his schedule for the upcoming week he only grunts in acknowledgement, never looking up from his computer.

Something is clearly wrong. Normally, he can’t keep his hands off of you—you never leave his office without a slap on the ass and a promise to make you regret wearing whatever curve hugging skirt you put on that day—but he seems to want nothing to do with you, or rather, he seems to be avoiding the fact that he does. The blatant disregard pisses you off, frankly. You put effort into your makeup today.

But more than that, his sudden indifference is unsettling. You can’t put your finger on why; he’s never given you reason to believe that he’s resentful, and despite his dour, professional persona he’s about as intimidating as a newborn kitten. Still, the tension in his office is thick. Thicker than you realize. When you step out you're surprised to find your lungs are aching from holding the breath you walked in with.

You spend the better part of your day trying to convince yourself that you’re just feeling ill. You aren’t nervous. There’s no reason to be. The gut feeling telling you to walk out at five today is just the byproduct of spoiled eggs at breakfast. You’re in control. You always are.

Still, when five o’clock comes your heart is pounding. Alarm bells clang in your head, screaming that something bad is going to happen if you walk through that door. Briefly, an interview from a true crime documentary you once watched plays through your head—the victim was lamenting how she regretted not listening to that “gut feeling” before she got kidnapped—but that’s ridiculous. You know your boss and you’re certain he’s not a kidnapper. The notion itself is ridiculous. You’ll be fine. You’ve been fucking him for three months, him acting weird doesn’t mean today will be any different.

After a few deep breaths you open the door and as promised, he's waiting for you, but not how you expected him to be. Normally, he’d be rolling his hips into his fist by now, impatiently demanding you get on your knees in front of him, but today he’s fully clothed, penis nowhere in sight. Instead, his hands cup a white mug of steaming liquid—an identical one that you presume to be yours sits on the opposite side of his desk—and he seems… tired. Pale and weighted; certainly not aroused in any way.

“You can sit, you know. I’m not angry at you.” he calls vacantly from across the room, not looking up from his cup.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, realizing you’ve been staring. With a thick swallow, you make your way over to him, mustering up as pleasant a smile as you can. When you finally sit and get a good look at him, however, the grin drops. 

He looks… awful. Weary and bleak, with red, puffy circles around his eyes like he’s recently been crying, his hair is mussed and a five o’clock shadow is growing on his chin. It’s jarring, to say the least. He’s normally so put together, you can’t remember if you've ever seen him disheveled. He’s a hard man to shake typically, his job demands it, but he looks utterly distraught. For a brief moment, you feel kind of bad.

Gross.

A halfhearted chuckle leaves his mouth, “I’m sorry. I must look pretty pathetic, huh?” 

Immediately you straighten, rectifying your smile. You can’t show cracks. There are no cracks, “Not at all Sir. What can I help you with?” 

A meaty hand waves you off. “Don’t bother with professionalism, Y/N. We both know we aren’t here to talk about work.” he runs a hand through his already mussed up hair and shuts his eyes. He pauses a moment, taking a long breath, thinking deeply or maybe steeling himself, before slowly exhaling, pushing the second mug towards you “Here, take a drink. This might be a lot.”

“Oh no, I’m not thirsty–”

“Drink.” he interrupts, and you’re startled by how sharp the command is. It’s far cry from the playful orders you’re used to receiving when he growls at you to get on your knees or bend over his desk. Instinctively, you find yourself rushing to obey.

When you bring the mug to your lips, his face relaxes. The alarm balls start jingling in the back of your head again.

“I’m going to be blunt about this,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “My wife found out about the affair and she wants a divorce.”

Oh. That is a lot.

It takes you a few seconds to process what he’s saying, a few more for it to sink in, but when you’ve finally got a stable grasp on the information, the faucet of emotion is turned on. It doesn’t twist off until your body is on the verge of overflowing.

But not for the right reasons.

Your heart should be sinking, guilt twisting in your gut like a knife. You should be on your knees, groveling in shame; apologizing with your whole chest for ruining this poor man's marriage—but you aren’t. Not a flicker of remorse fills your body.

You feel positively giddy.

Elated. Euphoric. You are on cloud fucking nine. Months, you’ve been waiting for this day; when you could finally take your medal and put it around your neck. It’s not really a matter of him being yours, moreso confirming that you’re hot enough to break up marriages. Fuck the morality of it all. You did it. She’s gone. You won. 

You aren’t tactless enough to start jumping for joy, however. You do your best to put on a genuine-seeming soberness and reply, “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

He shakes his head, eyes down-turned, “I’m equally if not more to blame. What’s done is done.” 

He stands then, aimlessly walking to the window. It’s all rather dramatic, you feel, but you're not the one who’s marriage just got destroyed. Quietly he looks across the skyline, face clouding with regret as he speaks, “You should have seen her, Y/N.” You wish you had, “I-I could see her heart breaking in her chest when I admitted to it.”

Oh, the delight that runs through you when you hear that crack in his voice—it makes you dizzy.

“I managed to find an apartment somehow between then and now. I’m in the process of moving in. I thought it was only right to give her space. God, the poor girl…” His cheeks are wet when he turns back to you and another jolt of glee zips through your body. But this one is stronger than the first one. It makes you wobble a little in your chair; you have to clutch the armrests to keep yourself upright.

The bells have started clanging again—painfully loud—and your heart beats in time with each stroke.

“Seven years. We’d been together seven years.” he laments, walking back to you and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. Despite the touch's innocence it’s searing hot, burning into your skin like an iron, only serving to make the bells louder. You try to jerk away but your body goes slack and when you try to pick yourself back up again, you can’t; no matter how hard you strain and lift, your muscles won’t move.

Your heart is pounding in your head now. His large hands hook under your armpits, hoisting your limp body back up onto the chair like a ragdoll. 

A sick, crawling feeling of dread fills your chest, like when you get to the very top of a rollercoaster. It creeps up your spine and wraps around your chest, squeezing the air out of your lungs. His face… he looks like a madman. Pale and wild; eyes manic and pupils dilated. He swallows heavily, breath shallow and frenzied as he desperately rasps, “I don’t think I could live without a wife again.”

The bells are deafening now and any ounce of joy you might have felt earlier has been drained to oblivion. You aren’t fine anymore. You need to run. You need to scream. Anything.

But you made the realization all too late. Your vision is going spotty and he’s already hoisted you up in his arms. Despite every muscle in your body fighting with all its might, you can’t make yourself move.

For the first time in your life, you’re completely powerless. 

The last thing you remember before being swallowed by the dark is his hot breath puffing against your ear:

“You promised you’d take care of me, didn’t you?” 

—

You wake up to the feeling of something warm and wet on your clit.

In your groggy, half-conscious state you don’t have the capacity or desire to figure out what it is, all that matters is that it feels good. It flicks lazy little shapes over the twitching bud, enveloping it and your folds in a warm, welcoming heat, and for a moment, you think you could die happy just like this. Your hips instinctively buck up towards the source and a low, wonton moan passes your lips. 

“Mmm, thats it darling. Good girl~”

Your eyes fly open.

Every ounce of blood drains from your face when you see his head bowed between your legs, cheeks messy and shiny with your slick, hips rutting needily against the mattress. Your kidnapper.

Your first instinct is to fight, but your limbs still won’t obey you—even if they would, a shift of weight reveals that your hands are bound tightly to the headboard of the bed.

The bed. There’s no bed in his office. Where the hell are you?

It’s all you can do to let out a low, displeased whine. Weakly shimmying your hips away from him only to have them immediately yanked back. He peaks up from your legs, “Shh honey, calm down.” he purrs, not breaking eye contact as he gives your clit a sweet peck, “Just relax and let your husband make you feel good.”

Husband.

Husband.

Your heart picks up in your chest, galloping like a racehorse as you try to process his words. “W-what?” you choke, even drugged your voice is sharp with terror.

He noses gently over your inner thigh, carefully pressing a chaste kiss to the soft plush before addressing you, “Your husband, dear. And you’re my wife~” he hums pleasantly, licking a long lazy stripe up your slit with the flat of his tongue, “I’m sure you can feel the ring, right?”

Your heart drops as you wiggle your fingers. On your left hand, a cold band of metal topped with some kind of stone wraps around your ring finger. A bout of vertigo flashes through your body. He must notice the horror on your face because he chuckles.

“It was kind of short notice so I had to use hers, but I’ll buy you a new one if you want…” he trails absentmindedly, too focused on laving at your cunt to give the thought his full attention. 

He’s doing it just like you taught him too. The irony could make you cry.

A knot the size of the watermelon grows in your stomach. Whether it’s from the panic or your equally distressing impending orgasm you’re not sure. Regardless, it’s there, and your head is spinning, and he’s starting to climb on top of you and take off his—oh god.

You cry and struggle as much as your leaden body will allow but he easily counters it all with one steady hand on your belly, the thumb of which he moves down to nurse your spit-soaked clit with easy circles. “I know it’s sudden,” he coos, paying no mind to your cries and pleas for mercy as he pulls out his rock hard cock, “But you wanted this, didn’t you? You’re the one who chased after me so desperately after all. I know you were just jealous of her.” 

Loud, wet sobs curl up your throat as he rubs his cock up and down your dripping folds, hypnotized by the lewd, clicking sound your juices make. “P-please.” you beg, trying your best to buck him off of you, “M’ sorry! I-I didn’t mean to—Please let me go.” 

A displeased hum then, “It’s too late for that, honey, but you don’t have to worry. I’ll take good care of you.” his frown flips to a soft smile. “You’ll take good care of me too, won't you? just like you promised.”

You feel like you might faint. The blunt head is pushing against your entrance now, threatening to sink into your heat, and though you’ve taken his cock hundreds of times, you’d rather stick your hand into an open flame then take it again. “P-please.” you blubber, “I’ll do anything, just please—Ah! S-stop!”

He doesn’t acknowledge you, only continues his rambling. “You’ll take good care of our children too, I'm sure.” those deranged, lovesick eyes bore into your skull, “Oh, baby. You’re going to look so beautiful when you’re pregnant, I can already tell. So, so pretty, all swollen and glowing~” he groans.

Your eyes blow wide and you start screaming. Half of it is incoherent, but what else are you supposed to do when you can’t fight? You nearly choke on your own sob as he leans over your body, starting to push in with a low, heady groan. “You can’t!” you cry, near hysterics, “Please, you can’t! I’m sorry! I’ll do anything! I’ll-”

“Shhhh,” he cuts you off, clamping a rough hand over your mouth, then bottoms out inside of you with one languid push. You feel like you’re on fire, like a million ants are crawling up your skin and down your throat.

Beads of cold sweat trickle down your back as he rocks into you. Behind his mitt you plead for him to let you go, but he doesn’t notice, or more likely, he doesn’t care. “I think I want three." he muses, "Two girls and a boy. But we can have more if you’d like. What do you think, darling?”

He removes his hand then, you greedily suck in air. It proves to be a difficult task, however, with his dick poking it all back out again with each snap of his hips. Finally, you collect yourself enough to make one final attempt. You stare up into his eyes, hoping to somehow access whatever humanity might remain there. “Please. I don’t want kids. I want to go home.”

He pauses, ceases his thrusting, and stares back down at you. For just a moment, your chest swells with hope.

But then he laughs. A sick, evil chuckle that rings through your bones, punctures your lungs and splits your heart straight down the middle.

“Oh honey, you are home.” he croons, a snap of his hips punctuates the sentence. “And of course you want kids. All husbands and wives who love each other very much become Mommies and Daddies. Besides—”

His hips start driving into you with a brutal sort of ferocity, and he grins so wickedly you swear you can see the devil in his eyes.

“--Won’t it be cute to tell them how Daddy and Mommy fell in love at work?”

higuruma hiromi, nanami kento, satoru gojo, izuku midoriya, kirishima eijiro, kaminari denki, kotaro bokuto, tooru oikawa, kuroo tetsuro, erwin smith, armin arlert

Patreon commission for Elise

Request: Male Boss Minotaur x Fem Skinny Friend x Fem Chubby Reader: So basically the Reader and her Friend both like their Boss but the Reader doesn’t think that their Boss likes them. But what the Reader doesn’t know is that both the Boss and her Friend want her (and their Boss wants both of them). Sorry this is kinda short but this is the idea I hope this is okay. 😁

Are you stupid?

Minotaur x fem!human x chubby fem!reader || body worship, oral sex, sharing is caring, MFF threesome, spanking (lowkey), soft sex || tw: internalized fatphobia

“I want to have dinner with you,” your boss said as he approached the table where you and your bestie were eating lunch. You looked directly at her, obviously he liked her, why wouldn’t he? She was skinny and pretty and everything any human or monster would like (even you). Of course he would ask her out. You tried not to be hurt about it, you both liked him, and he made his choice (the obvious choice, you thought).

“Okay, when?” Your friend instantly asked, hiding her excitement and surprise as if it meant nothing that the hottest and most amazing minotaur just asked her out. But you knew her better, you knew the tilt on her eyebrow meant she was surprised. You knew her better than you knew yourself.

“Tonight. Wear something casual,” he told her. “And you…” He looked straight at you when he said it: “Wear something tight.” You gaped at him, confused. What the fuck did he mean?

“What? Me?” You asked. And then it clicked, he wanted you there so it wouldn’t be weird when he finally asked her out and they made out, you were the buffer. It made sense, but why would he ask you to wear something tight?

“Yes,” he answered curtly and left, leaving you looking at his back with a gaping mouth. What the fuck just happened?

“Yas girl, we just got ourselves a hot date!” Your friend rose her hand to high five you, and you did without thinking, not fully processing what just happened.

You laughed at her, dark thoughts crossing your mind. “You got yourself a date, I’m just the buffer,” you clarified.

Your best friend looked at you like you were stupid. “What the fuck are you saying? He has the hots for you,” she sounded so sure that you almost believed her. Almost.

“No he doesn’t. He likes you, and I get it, you are… perfect.” Your soft tone let out a lot of truths that you weren’t ready to release out in the wild yet.

Again with the incredulous eyes as she almost spit out: “What? Are you insane? You are funny and all soft and pretty and have the greatest tits in the universe.” You looked at her confused, what the fuck was she talking about?

“I- What?” You asked, completely thrown back by her words. Did she really think that about you?

“We got ourselves a date, both of us. Stop arguing,” she added as she got up and left you there, even more confused than before.

You couldn’t think about anything else for the rest of the day, anticipation and dread building inside of you at the same time.

You were back at home (you shared a house to save some money on rent) when she entered your room. “Put this on,” she ordered, giving you a piece of fabric that probably wouldn’t cover your ass cheeks.

You looked at her with skepticism, but you put it on just to shut her up. It fitted you like a second skin, your tummy and ass squeezed with the fabric. Your boobs looked fantastic, though, but it wasn’t you. You looked at the mirror and almost didn’t recognize yourself in that kind of outfit. You couldn’t bend down without exposing your whole pussy and ass, it was that short. And you… kind of liked it.

“I can’t go out like this!” You told her exiting the bathroom, trying to pull down the hem but there wasn’t enough fabric to cover you anymore.

She gaped at you, her eyes big as plates. “You look… You look phenomenal,” she let out after a pause, licking her lips as she checked you out slowly. “Come here,” she asked, and you complied, still self-conscious about all the rolls the dress showed. “You look perfect, he’s going to lose his mind the same way I just did.” She grabbed you by the waist and plastered her body to yours, her face millimeters away from yours.

You looked at her with a tiny smile, thinking she was just playing. “What are you doing?” Your tone was amused.

“I’m kissing you senseless so you stop thinking you aren’t the hottest girl in the whole world,” she said before she closed the distance and attacked your mouth with desperation.

You were shocked for a total of two seconds before you were responding the kiss with equal fervor and need. She parted and squeezed your ass, the tip of her fingers caressing the lower part of your ass cheek, the dress was definitely way too short.

“Why did you do that?” You asked, dizzy.

“Because I’m tired of pretending I’m not in love with you and want to bury my face between your tits until I suffocate,” she let out. You stared at her, gaping like a fish and probably looking stupid, but you couldn’t stop.

“I- I…” You didn’t know what to say. “I love you, too,” you finally let out, baring your heart to her and feeling like a thousand kilos lifted from your chest.

“Now come on, let’s blow his mind so we can be a power thruple,” she joked to reduce the tension in the air. But you didn’t laugh.

“He wants only you either way, he only invited me because I was there and it would have been weird otherwise,” you said with a self-depreciating laugh.

She turned around and looked at you with anger flaring in her eyes: “Are you stupid? Do you like being stupid?” She asked, her tone accusing.

“I only tell the facts.” You were sure of it, there was no way your hot as hell best friend just kissed you because she liked you AND your hot minotaur boss also liked you, you couldn’t be that lucky, not a chance in hell.

“Okay, dummy, if he gapes at you like a fish when he sees you in that outfit I get to spank your ass tonight,” she threatened and you shivered. A whole body shiver.

How did she know you were into spanking? You never discussed your sex life with her… Or maybe you did when you were drunk at the last Christmas party. Shit, you definitely did tell her that. Oh goddess, you were going to die of embarrassment.

“And if he doesn’t?” You asked, your face red as a tomato at that point.

“If he doesn’t, you get to tell me I told you so.” You did love to tell her that when you were right.

“Deal.” You were going to win for sure.

But she was right, and you fucking lost.

He not only gaped at you, but as soon as you entered, he reached to grab your waist and pulled you to his body to devour your mouth. As your friend (girlfriend?) cheered and patted you in the back, his roaming hands groped your ass until your panties were wet and uncomfortable, and your heart was about to explode from your chest. He pulled back and grabbed your friend in the same way, kissing her senseless until she was groaning and you were dripping wet just looking at them.

He was breathing hard when you three pulled apart. “You both look fantastic, I’ve been waiting to do that since you were hired,” he confessed in a low tone.

“But you… You are the boss,” you told him, dizzy from arousal and confusion. Your brain didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Was that really happening? Good goddess, were you dreaming? Was all that a dream? Were you in an accident?

He didn’t even blink before saying: “Which means we all should visit the HR department tomorrow morning.”

“Why?” You asked, still not knowing what was happening.

“Because you two are now mine,” his growl made you shiver as you felt your girlfriend’s hand on your leg, comforting you.

Oh shit, you just got yourself a boyfriend AND a girlfriend, what the fuck?

You three joked and had fun until midnight, when he, being the gentle minotaur he was, walked you two to your shared apartment and kissed you goodbye. It was the hottest and most decadent kiss you ever received, and when he kissed your best friend you whimpered. She chuckled and grabbed your neck, devouring your mouth, too. Good goddess you loved when she got all controlling like that.

“You,” he pointed your minotaur boss (boyfriend?), “need to go home. And I, need to spank her ass because I won a bet.” She pulled the back of your dress up, exposing your ass to the night and groping you until you groaned. She smirked at you as your boss groaned like it pained him.

“Don’t do this to me, now I will have to jerk off twice before going to bed,” he whined, readjusting what looked like a huge erection in his pants.

“Have fun with your hand, big guy. We’ll see you tomorrow and if everything goes well… You might get lucky and get to spank her ass, too.” The fact that she was offering that without even considering you about it shouldn’t be hot, but you couldn’t contain the groan that escaped your mouth.

“Oh goddess, I might have to do it three times… You two are going to kill me,” he lamented without any sadness behind it, kissing your forehead and hers and going back to his car.

You two watched him go, and when you were safely back inside, you felt a hand squeezing your ass in a very naughty way. She guided you to your bedroom and spanked you until you cried, and then fucked you with your favorite dildo until you came all over yourself, your poor sheets not making it. You had to sleep with her as she complained jokingly. But it was her fault, after all.

The morning after, everything felt happier and brighter, and when you two had breakfast in comfortable silence you couldn’t avoid having horny thoughts about your girlfriend and boss going at it over the counter. She winked at you like she knew what you were thinking, and slapped your tender ass as you walked to the car. You whimpered as she laughed, you never felt more desired.

Your boss was waiting at the door of the HR department, looking handsome as hell as you walked to him. He looked like he wanted to kiss you senseless again, but he refrained and opened the door so you two could go first. You had to sign some papers about not suing the company and all that law stuff, and when everything was set, he grabbed your waist and bent you back, kissing you like in the movies and leaving you breathless. He did the same with your girlfriend (now shared girlfriend), and walked out saying he had some calls to make but he would meet you two later.

You walked to your desk in a daze and the work tasks seemed impossible for a long while.

“We have a meeting in five minutes,” your girlfriend said as she stopped next to your desk about an hour later.

“We have?” You looked at her panicked, you didn’t have any meeting in your calendar. You didn’t prepare. What was the meeting even about?

“Yes. Move your pretty ass, come on.” You were still panicking when she dragged you all the way to the meeting room, where your boss was already sitting on his big chair, legs far apart and cock out, slowly stroking himself. You almost swallowed your tongue.

“Wha- what are we doing here?” You asked, your panties already wet just seeing his huge juicy cock disappearing in his fist. It was the most erotic sight you’ve ever seen, you wanted to fall to your knees and swallow him to the root (which was very hopeful because you probably couldn’t even get half of him in your mouth without choking).

“I heard that my girlfriend didn’t think I was into her, so I decided we needed a team meeting to rectify that,” your boss-boyfriend explained, his hand working non-stop over his shaft.

“What?” You asked, confused.

“Get naked and bend over the table. Now,” your girlfriend ordered and you looked between the two.

“What?” You couldn’t comprehend anything. Did they talk about you? Did your girlfriend told him that? You felt your face getting redder and redder.

“Now, darling,” he repeated in a softer tone.

You complied, still confused about what was happening. When you were face down on the table, you heard them whispering behind you, not sure about what they were saying. Soon after you felt rough hands caressing your sides and your ass, such a soft touch that you shivered. Two softer hands joined, touching you everywhere. It was like a combined massage and you were rapidly losing your mind.

A hand pushed your legs apart, and a tongue found your center. You wanted to look over your shoulder and see who it was, but they didn’t let you, a hand in your back pressing you against the table. The tongue was replaced with another, and then both of them were licking your pussy in tandem, worshiping you as they groaned. Their hands were groping your ass and tummy, you could feel them everywhere.

“Please…” You begged, almost there but not quite. They were playing with you, getting you almost to orgasm and backing down. You were desperate.

“I know darling, I know… Just let go.” Your minotaur said, a finger entering your pussy slowly and tenderly. You groaned again, and let yourself surrender to pleasure.

They were everywhere, they surrounded your body with caresses and kisses, hands roaming everywhere as you laid there, unable to move as they worshiped your body. It was the softest and most intense experience of your life. The orgasm kept building, slowly and surely, and by the time you were about to come, a harsh hand landed on your ass, making you cry out as you fell apart under their attention.

You were still panting when your girlfriend whispered against your ear: “You did great.” She kissed your cheek and caressed your hair softly.

“Such a good girl for us,” your boyfriend added, kissing your forehead.

“I don’t think I can walk,” you responded, half joking, half telling the truth.

“Good thing my penthouse is right at the top of the building,” your boyfriend said, taking your body off the table like you weighted nothing. You were about to protest that you were too heavy when he talked again: “If you say you are too big, I’m going to spank you until you can’t sit in a week,” he threatened.

“Don’t tempt her, she’s a good girl, but she loves to be a good slut, too.” You blushed hard, hiding your face against your boss’ neck as they both laughed.

“Let’s go to my house so we can finish what we started,” his tone was rough and deep, like the sea at night.

“What?” You asked, as the same time your girlfriend said: “What do you mean?”

“Oh, darling, if you think you aren’t going to be full of cum when I’m done with you, you are heavily mistaken. And that goes for both of you,” he added, bending down to kiss your girlfriend’s open mouth.

Deserved. Good job.

Link to PT1

Your Ex-Orc’s life has been going great since you broke up. He had been skirting around ending things with you for a while, and the relief of you breaking up with him crashed over him like a tsunami.

He’d forgotten how amazing it was to have his home to himself, to be able to sit in his front room without having to keep up a drab conversation with you about whatever happened at work, or to come home with a ‘shut up’ gift, just to make sure you didn’t complain about his prolonged absence.

However, there were times where we would walk into his flat and catch a whiff of your signature scent, or of a dish being prepared. He would ignore the way the pit in his stomach would open up and would head straight to his bedroom to go and get ready for a night on the town.

This feeling began to wake him up in the mornings too. When he rolled over and instinctively reached out for your figure, to drag in the smell of your shampooed hair and see your sleepy smile.

Every time this happened, your Ex vowed to go out that night. Going out and bringing home random women he met at bars and clubs always made him feel better.

And so, like clockwork when that all too familiar feeling kicked in, the pit reopening like a cut that just won’t heal, he would get on his best clothes and head out.

Tonight, he wanted to check out this new bar that had just opened up in town centre, named ‘Poena.’

Apparently, the drinks were all named after Roman and Greek plays, generals, philosophers and the like. 

It just begged for him to go in there tonight.

As he stepped through the front door, your Ex was greeted by Roman arches and Greek pillars with vines that wound around, up and over the bar itself, fake grapes dangling from the ceiling while the bartender was dressed in a white toga, a golden leaf wreath adorning his brow.

Taking a seat at the bar, your Ex Orc straightened out his blazer and began to scour the place for tonight’s lucky lady.

It was still early in the evening and the only other woman at the bar had her back to him and was admiring a statue of Venus, so your Ex decided to wait a little while longer and ordered a drink named ‘The Bloody 23’

After his drink had been given to him, your Ex’s attention went back to the woman at the bar, where he recoiled in shock. The woman… It was you.

He was stunned that he didn’t recognise you at first, but you just looked so… different. 

Had you done something new with your hair? Was your Make-up different? Or was it the clothes? 

You never normally wore club attire, you even said yourself that that kind of environment wasn’t really your thing.

But here you are, wearing a skin tight, red wine coloured dress. It was like you were a different person.

In front of you on the bar's counter, was an empty glass.

Your Ex smirked, and called the bartender over with a snap of his fingers, “would you kindly refill that lady’s drink? I’ll pay of course,” he said, almost lazily. 

Your Ex lifted his drink to his lips as he imagined your pleasantly surprised face when you realised he was there with you. Who knows, maybe even the pair of you could talk about what happened, make up and even-

His train of thought broke when somebody collided with him. Your Ex’s drink drenched his front, ruining his last good ‘going out’ shirt, staining it dark red.

“Whoops!” The collider said. It was another Orc, younger than your ex. This Orc had his hair tied back into a fishtail braid that went down his back and reached his waist.

He wore a leather jacket, black skin tight shirt and black jeans to match, boots undone, laces loose and unkempt. 

Your Ex Orc gave him a disgusted expression. “Watch where you’re going.” He snarled as he patted his front dry with a tissue the bar had provided.

The younger Orc held his hands up in defence, “sorry, must’ve had too much to drink tonight.” Digging into his pockets, he pulled out some cash and held it out to your Ex, “here, for the drink and… the shirt.”

Snatching it from the Orc, your Ex grumbled, giving one last disgusted glare up and down the collider, “and wear something more appropriate next time, oaf.”

The younger Orc didn’t seem to hear him however, as he continued on and to-

Your Ex froze.

Your face lit up at the other Orcs, jumping to your feet and throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

Eyes twinkling, grinning widely, your eyes darted over to your Ex. The pair of you locked eyes for a moment.

Your smile faltered slightly, the spark in your eyes went out.

The other Orc beside you looked over his shoulder, at his elder and then back at you. His hand reached out to your face, held it in his hands.

Heart thumping in his ears, your Ex stared. You hadn’t replaced him, had you?

The pair of you broke up only a few weeks ago!

You locked eyes with the Orc who held you and just as quickly as your light had faded, it reignited. 

The Orc said something, and it made you burst into a fit of giggles. 

You no longer had eyes for your Ex as you leaned forward and kissed the Orc in front of you. 

And this younger bastard, he kissed you back.

Like the pair of you had completely forgotten about your Ex, sat at the other end of the bar. 

When the kiss broke, your new lover looked over his shoulder at your Ex again and smirked.

Piercing pain shot through your Ex’s hand and he let out a gasp of shock. Looking down at his hand, he found the glass had been crushed by his grip.

He wanted to get up, rush after you and your lover, but the bartender stopped him, already trying to stem the bleeding from his green palm. He looked back up just in time to see you and your new Orc get up and head for the door.

As you and your new lover left, anger, frustration and remorse hit your Ex like a ton of bricks, one after another. 

And suddenly, the pain in his hand was gone. The pit in his stomach consumed him whole as he dissolved into tears.

He didn’t need more time out in bars or clubs, or to meet new women. 

Your Ex needed you. 

And he’d lost you, over a stupid woman at a club.

Tag list:

@serendipitous-fernweh @seungfl0wer @sammywo @sunndust

Patreon

All are so good

My Favorite Soulmate Fanfiction (Part 1)

@purpleyoonn

Petrichor

BTS x Reader, CEO, omegaverse, soulmate au, polyamory

You had been working at Bangtan Corporation for almost two years now, and not once have you ever laid eyes on your bosses. That was, until you met them when out with some of your coworkers. Now, you almost wish you hadn’t. Almost.

baby (you complete us)

BTS x Reader, disabled reader, soulmate au, idol au, polyamory

Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches. 

Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.

The Line Between Love and War 

BTS x Reader, autistic reader, soulmate au, idol au, polyamory

Your experiences told you that soulmates were something you would never have the pleasure of having; something not given to you because of who you are, despite the soulmark that resides on your inner left wrist. During your solo trip to Los Angeles, you find out that you are more than capable, that your soulmates had been waiting for you for a long time, and would not be letting you go anytime soon.

Dance of Time

BTS x Reader, vampire BTS, human reincarnated reader, soulmate au, reincarnation, yandere

You were finally back in the hometown you left right after graduation, researching the mysterious manor that laid outside of the town limits. Your family was acting weird, and the owner of the manor seemed to know more about you than he should. Everything changed when you entered the manor, and you weren’t sure your dance with time was going to last very long.

enchanted 

Min Yoongi x Reader, dragon King Yoongi, soulmate au, royalty au, fantasy au

The realm under King Min’s rule had been under war for over thirty years, a war within the inhuman species with origins no one knows. Your presence was brought into awareness when found by the king under the rubble of your home. You are plunged into a world you had only ever seen from the outside, and don’t know how long you can last.

@bluemari23

New _World 

Choi Seungcheol x Reader, soulmate au, idol au, neurodivergent reader

the night of your 18th birthday left nothing to be desired; waking up to no hint of any soul bond left you one of the unbonded. almost eight years later, however, you find out that you are very much not unbonded, and that your soulmate is someone who you admire. very much.

Dar+ling You 

You were on your way to South Korea, leaving your life behind to follow your soulmate back home. Your anxiety runs amok, and Seungcheol tries his best to get to know you better.

Soul Glow 

Choi Seungcheol x Reader, soulmate au, idol au, neurodivergent reader

You were on your way to South Korea, leaving your life behind to follow your soulmate back home. Your anxiety runs amok, and Seungcheol tries his best to get to know you better.

Soul Haze 

you had just gotten home after leaving the seventeen concert early, only for your phone to start ringing with what you think is the biggest joke of the century. it turns out, that maybe you left too early.

Dazzling Light

Kim Hongjoong x Reader, soulmate au, idol au, autistic reader

your soul bond activates at a concert and you seriously doubt your actually going to be able to meet them, not when they are on the stage and more than likely can't see the soul light that surrounds you.