#post-underworld smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

himbocoups · 6 months

Text

˗ˋˏ CRAWL (PREVIEW) ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only

SYNOPSIS: If there is anything about the Devil, it’s that he always keeps his promises. The problem is, he’s mad that you seemed to have forgotten his promise.

PAIRING: devil!yjh x reader (afab)

GENRE: fantasy | smut, pwp

PREVIEW TAGS: featuring: sub!ksy, artist!xmh, housemate!jww | auditory voyeurism mention, pegging (m receiving), fingering, hickies, face sitting mention

PREVIEW WC: 2.1k

FIC WC: estimated 5-7k

MESSAGE FROM NU: hello! long time no see. i've been building this one for a while, so i'm so excited to share this preview with you all. this can be read as a standalone fic or a sequel to red horn. info regarding taglist and posting date at the end of the fic. take care and see you soon - nu ♡

FINAL FIC HERE

himbocoups's masterlist

It is a rusty metallic foldable chair that you sit on that squeaks and creaks even with the slightest movement. You try to readjust your posture — definitely not sure if you should sit up straight with your back against the dusty chair or with your hands folded neatly on the edge of the devil’s table in front of you. In fact, you’re not sure whether or not you are supposed to touch the devil’s office desk, so you choose to lead with the prior option. And the metal chair reacts, drawing out a long and uncomfortable creeeeak as you shift your weight backward.

Maybe you were just lucky last time, led by the Devil to believe that maybe you were worthy of being somebody special in this vast world. In this underworld where the universe’s menagerie of creatures visit with last hopes of finding a solution, you are finally coming to a conclusion that you’re only but a speck of dust in a world that knows no bounds.

The small office room feels humid and stuffy; its previously supposedly beige wallpapers are now a darker shade of brown that peels in large patches to reveal dirty and white painted-over bricks. Splotches of mold line the edges of the patches, and you find yourself wishing that mold spores aren’t a thing that exists in Hell. But it’s Hell, and anybody who dealt with mold before knows that the process of treating mold is basically hell. The navy colored carpet looks old and worn out. Several flat and black pieces of gum stick to it, already dried and surprisingly shiny in color.

On the desk and pushed to the corner is an old and vintage PC, the kind with the square monitors and the back that protrudes outwards. You can feel the heat from the computer console blow against your skin and leave a faint burnt metallic scent in its wake. Not sure what to do or if you’re supposed to do anything, you sit in silence as the devil behind the computer screen slowly types and moves his mouse on top of his mousepad to fill out the information he has in the giant manilla folder spread out in front of him.

You retract your lips inwards and bite the gummy and smooth underside of your lips while you stare at the stack of business cards pointed toward you. Craig. His name is Craig with no last name. Demon. So you’re wrong. He’s neither a devil nor is he the Devil with a capital “D” whom you were previously introduced to. He’s just office worker Craig, the demon you were assigned today.

“Do you think it’s too stuffy in here?” He asks you while lifting his mouse from the mousepad before setting it back down to readjust the roller ball underneath. Not once does he turn to look at you or make eye contact with you.

“A little,” you reply feeling awkward and a bit burdened by the question for almost no reason at all.

He nods his head while tracing his long and crooked finger against a line on the stack of papers in front of him before typing in the data in his computer. He sniffs and snorts his phlegm while clearing his throat. It was just small talk; there is no way an office worker in Hell would care about your wellbeing. You find yourself wondering if central cooling is a thing in Hell while trying to peek at the contents of your surprisingly large folder with no avail.

This room, this office worker, this situation…none of this is the same as the beautiful and luxurious office space you imagined stepping in for the second time. Long gone is the plush gray Persian rug and the mahogany desk that belongs to the owner himself. And your large file that is spread out before the demon you’re assigned, you cannot help but think about the event or even events that could have possibly added to the flimsy pieces of paper the Devil flipped through when he first met you. And the thought of Craig reading your file only causes your face to heat up in embarrassment.

“Um.” You force yourself to break the awkward silence. “May I use the restroom before we start? You still haven’t asked me what I’m here for, and I think I accidentally came under the assumption that I would be assigned to the same person. I’ll be quick in case you need me immediately.”

“Down the hall,” the demon mumbles while hunching his back to allow himself to squint closely at the screen in front of him.

Picking yourself up from your seat, you basically fling yourself out of the office while thinking about the fresh air that awaits you in the hallway. No thoughts about the demon nor suspicions regarding the fact that the demon didn’t really point you towards a particular route to the restroom floated in your mind. Coming here was a mistake, and you are willing to face any repercussions for walking out of a meeting with a demon if it means having to save yourself from the embarrassment of having that demon read your file regarding your previous request with the Devil.

However, what awaits you on the other side of the door isn’t the hallway from which you entered the office you were in. Instead, you find yourself in an oddly familiar bedroom. Light navy blue floor-length curtains cover the window with their original pleats from when it was first purchased about a year ago still intact. Pushed against the window is the full-sized bed with the orange-stained wooden headboard and the mess of frost blue blankets haphazardly strewn on the mattress. The soft and rotund tiger plush lays threateningly close to the edge of the bed, able to be toppled over even with the slightest movement on the mattress.

The owner of this bedroom is in the middle of it all. Kwon Soonyoung kneels on his bed with his legs spread and his ass up. He already looks so fucked out. His left cheek is pressed against his mattress while he looks back at you with his hands tied behind his back. The position he’s in doesn’t seem comfortable at all, but his expressions, demeanor, and soft whimpers coming out of his mouth digress.

“Please,” he practically begs you from his pitiful position. You can see how his lean thighs tremble while he struggles against his restraints. He wails with such desperation, “I want it. I want it so badly,” so much that it almost sounds as if he is going to cry from your lack of action.

You don’t realize it until now, but an object manifests itself in your hands. A thick and ribbed silicone dildo, one that you’re too familiar with, is being stroked by you unconsciously. You feel the girth of it and how the lube prepares the toy for insertion. Then comes the teasing. You find the words naturally flowing out of your mouth: “Conciseness in your language, Soonie. What is it that you want?”

But the thing is, you know what comes next. You know what his response is as you slowly make your way over to him.

“Peg me. I’m ready,” he gasps while a tiny translucent pearl gathers at the tip of his dangling cock. “Blow my back out.”

You already know exactly how many times you will yourself to slap his ass to prep him before his legs give in. You already know how lewdly he would gasp as you insert the tip of the toy, how he would bury his face in his blankets as he moans out loud. You find yourself repeating actions as if being controlled by a machine, yet you don’t hate it. You’re magically stuck in a limbo between reality and déjà vu, presently recreating the past.

You feel his walls sucking in the toy, taking it in so well. Like a special switch in an escape room, once you grab onto his aching cock to stroke him while you peg him, the scene immediately switches.

Naked and in the middle of a studio apartment that reeks of paint fumes and essential oils, you look at yourself through the standing mirror in front of you. Despite the fan blowing in the background and his window propped open, you don’t feel cold at all. Instead, your skin pricks with heat as the sensation of arousal gathers itself at your core and spreads to the tips of your fingers. Beneath you is a mop of platinum blonde hair of the artist who sits by your feet.

Xu Minghao gently grabs you by the waist so that he can angle you so that you can get a better view of his artwork on your body. You remember that with him, you always felt safe and appreciated. He traces his slender finger along the length of your thigh, bringing it up to your ass. He makes you feel valuable through your soreness, the entirety of your right ass cheek covered in his carefully placed hickies. Your pussy throbs with eagerness, waiting to be filled before all of the juices run dry.

“My work of art,” he mumbles before he brings his lips to your ass. In the open space where the bruises connect, he bites it with his teeth and swirls the flesh in between his teeth with his tongue. His left hand makes its way to your opening, thumbing the smooth nub that immediately makes your knees buckle. So he positions himself behind you, strongly wrapping his long right arm around your legs to keep you steady as he nips and sucks while he takes your time to circle your clit before he finally slips his finger in your core as if the action is like second nature to him.

Pleasure builds in your soul and makes your body scream with pleasure as Minghao meticulously massages your inner walls, stroking and tapping your spongy insides as you writhe in his arm. He adds another finger, filling you up and building your high, scissoring you while you moan his name as your liquid drips down his fingers and collects in his palm.

“Done,” he breathes as he shifts his body so that he sits between your open legs. You can feel how his warm breath hits your skin as he speaks with his lips nearly on your cunt, “Flower on your ass. Sweet and puffy rose sitting on my face.”

Before you can re-experience what it felt like to sit on Minghao’s face like a chair, you find yourself in another room. This time, you’re in your own place in the room next to yours. From the placement of the desk to how the bed is pushed against the corner of the room, flush against the wall, the layout of this room directly mirrors your own. There are a lot more notecard art prints taped to the wall than you last remembered. The LED lights built into his mechanical keyboard softly pulses as it switches colors. And there is the all too familiar smell of his laundry detergent and dryer sheets that fills his room — he had just unloaded his laundry from the dryer, but didn’t have time to fold his clothes as they still sit in the laundry basket placed in front of his closet.

You’re not sure if you’re allowed to be here at all. It’s not often that you find yourself in Jeon Wonwoo’s bedroom, but when you do, you’re usually near the threshold of his door. And to be sitting on his plush gray sheets, you think it feels too intrusive. Still, you’re not sure if you should move from your comfortable position despite the fact that you’re not close enough to him to enter his bedroom just to chill without him present. And the worst of all, you’re pretty sure you’re still soaked from your previous encounter with Minghao. And that you’re still definitely in hell because there is no way you would ever allow yourself to feel this close to coming on Wonwoo’s bedsheets without his permission.

Two soft knocks on the door diverts your attention to the closed door.

“Yn,” Wonwoo's deep and tender voice calls your name from the other side of the door. “Is everything okay? I’m coming in.”

The thing is, this occurrence with Wonwoo had never happened before. You’re stuck in a scenario far different from the other two. So, you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are when you saw him walk through his bedroom door. Instead of the tall and built housemate that you sometimes find yourself secretly fawning over, is the sinister yet charming man you haven’t seen in ages.

Yoon Jeonghan steps into your housemate’s bedroom with the irresistible charm of his while flaunting an oversized black t-shirt whose sleeves almost touch his elbows. The Devil is here, and he knows everything that you’ve been hiding from him.

END OF PREVIEW // FIC OUT DECEMBER 2ND // TAGLIST OPEN

#svthub #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #svt smut #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #seventeen scenarios #jeonghan fic

174 notes · View notes

gimmethatagustd · 3 months

Text

jai’s jeon jungkook masterlist

If you are under 18 years old, do not interact with my fics. Most contain smut and aren’t appropriate for minors. Click here to join my taglist(s). Click here to view all my fics.

Updated March 9, 2024

Needy (ft. Yoongi) | 4.3k | Friends with Benefits | Smut

Jungkook refuses to admit that he has feelings for you, but he’s slowly cracking under the pressure. Will his bright idea of asking his friend to seduce you be the final thing that helps him get over his interest in you?

Babydoll | 4.9k | Friends with Benefits | Smut

Jungkook has been stringing you along for months, but is it really his fault that you think you can turn him into boyfriend material?

After the mysteriously hot guy in your university class starts taking an interest in you, should you really trust that he’s not like all the other college fuckboys? Especially when his best friend is the guy who broke your heart?

When your father prayed to Hades to bring your dead brother back to life, Hades requested something in return: a bride for his son, Prince of the Underworld, Jungkook.

You were born with a Gift that the world wanted to turn into a weapon. All Jungkook wanted to do was show you that you could find love, even in the dark.

If you get caught, you’ll both die. Jungkook wants to be yours anyway.

Antidote | 2.3k | Established Relationship | Smut | Fluff

You know exactly how to make your boyfriend feel better when he’s feeling down, but he has his own plans.

That’s My Baby | 1.4k | Established Relationship | Hurt/Comfort | Fluff

All you want to do is make sure that your boyfriend feels good about himself, no matter how life changes.

Streets | 800 | Unrequited Love | Exes | Yandere

Jungkook was pretty.

No one can make you feel like a goddess better than Jeon Jungkook.

Kiss Me More | 1.7k | Boxing AU | Friends to Lovers | Fluff

It’s not just Jungkook’s rigorous boxing lesson that’s making your heart beat fast.

Member x Member Masterlist

Includes All Ships

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd &daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#masterlist #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

95 notes · View notes

yourlocaljonghoe · 5 months

Text

Trial of Fate. || Choi Jongho. [Prologue]

Summary: As a soul neither dead nor alive, you are merely there to guide those awaiting their trial of fate at the other side of the holy river. But one day, a God descended from heaven. His name was Jongho, and he was fascinated by your unique soul. Consequently, in defiance of all expectations, you now found yourself awaiting your own trial, and the dashing God of War decided to help you navigate it all. Could these two spirits, so different yet so similar, triumph against their destiny together?

Pairing: God!Choi Jongho x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, eventual Smut, Fantasy!Au, God!Au, Greek & Chinese mythology inspired

Wordcount: 2k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is the start of my first ever series. How long it will be is unknown yet, even for me, but it will have 3 essential parts called Trial of Love, Trial of Life and Trial of Death. I'm so excited yet nervous to post this, please tell me what you think! I will also open a taglist exclusively for this series, just comment or send an ask if you want to be added. Big thanks to @yunho-mp3 who proofread this and @nebulousbrainsoup who helped me brainstorm! Divider credits to @firefly-graphics!

Taglist: @yunho-mp3, @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi

Available here on AO3.

Ever since the beginning of time, the river parting the underworld and human realm has maintained its steady flow, guiding the new souls free from their mortal life to the other side.

But after over 1000 years, the river began to weaken. Eventually, the holy water formed a soul amidst all wonder, and that soul was you.

As you slowly unfolded, the lower souls began to call you Seongsu*¹.

Thereafter, as the once human souls entered your realm, you were their only hope. Some lovers came hand-in-hand and told you their romances from several lifetimes, and there were even those lost and desperate who stood bawling in front of you.

And yet, you were just the river flowing steady from one side to the other. You neither felt joy nor sorrow.

Once again, another millennium came and went, and as your soul became stronger, you even formed an appearance those dead souls were most familiar with; the form of a human, or at least something close to that.

As the souls crossed the river, the trial of fate awaited them in the underworld; some returned to you, now new souls ready for another lifetime, some ascended and entered heaven and some were never seen again.

It was a steady circle of life and death, and you were only a witness of it. Sometimes, you thought you formed a feeling the humans called jealousy. You thought about life itself and what it would feel like to experience it yourself, but ultimately found the thought both boring and useless.

But against all odds, as you awaited souls to come and cross the river once again, an old, wise soul appeared before you. Reading your fortune was a white-bearded priest passing, prophesying your coming trial to the knowing nodding of his head.

You protested: “Only those living beings experience the trial of fate. I am neither dead nor alive, Sir, I am here to guide all those awaiting their trial on the other side.”

But the old soul didn't answer you, crossing the river in silence and leaving both you and his past life behind.

You thought he was merely telling you nonsense.

You were a spirit formed from the flowing river of death and life; your soul was that of the river and your heart was that of a river.

There was no pain where there was no love. All living things had emotions, be it happiness or pain, and if your heart hadn't ever been stirred, how could there ever await you the trial of fate?

How could you, Seongsu, experience even the first phase of the trial?

The trial of love was the start of all life; in the human world, when two people fall in love, a new human is born. The new life therefore already completed the first challenge, that of birth.

Someone like you who was created by time itself had no chance of ever completing even its first stage.

Or so you thought.

But the flow of time was always full of surprises.

On a particular afternoon, you returned to the ever unchanging river after a walk as piercing sunlight suddenly burst through the quilt of clouds.

A man gracefully came from the heavenly realm.

You suddenly recalled the words of a young female human soul many, many years ago. She said: “A good looking man is a sight worthy of a 1000 lifetimes, may you encounter such a thing one day, Miss.”

You think you did just that.

After a thousand years, your stony heart made a rare subtle tremble.

He slowly approached you with a calm and collected expression on his face. It wasn’t easy to run into such a beautiful person, so you thought you should have a meeting worth his appearance with him.

“Sir”, you stepped forward and softly called out to him. You thought to curtly him like those pretty human women you've heard stories about, but didn't know how. You pondered for a moment, then mimicked the souls bowing to the god of death and dropped to your knees with a thud, banged your head on the ground and said to him, “May I inquire your name, Sir?”

Some lower stone and leaf souls gasped, but you paid them no mind. He stood there blankly with some surprise in his eyes. For a few moments, he only had his gaze on you.

Hearing no response from him, you briefly wondered that perhaps you hadn’t honored this man enough, meaning you didn't knock your head loudly enough and therefore hadn’t shown enough sincerity. You crawled forward on your knees and, not sparing any effort this time, fiercely knocked your head onto the ground once again.

“May I inquire your name, Sir?”, you repeated your earlier question.

Perhaps the antics of your behavior shocked him. He remained silent.

Hesitantly, you got up and wiped your face; it was only then you discovered how bloody you truly were, and while trying to clean yourself, you accidentally made it worse.

You panicked. With a look of helplessness in your eyes, you gazed up at the stranger.

In his eyes you saw your own reflection. Then, his mouth curled into an amused smile.

He seemed delighted, so you too offered him a smile of your own - well, you tried, because in those two millennia you existed, you never smiled before.

A lowly leaf soul came to your aid and helped you up. You wouldn't rise. Nervously, it whispered: “My dear Madam, you shall not do that! Don't you know who he is?”

Even if in status, all souls here were below you, they would only respect you due to your age. Your magic wasn't particularly strong.

“I don't know this man. I wouldn't ask for his name if I would, wouldn't I?”

“Miss, this man is a heavenly-”

A low voice interrupted the lowly soul.

“My name is Jongho.”

He extended his hand and you shook it carefully. Then, he flipped your hands and exposed your wrist.

Your vital, most vulnerable spot. He now had the perfect opportunity to wipe out your entire existence in a mere second, and from the look in his eyes, you saw he knew that too.

The lower leaf soul gasped and exclaimed nervously: “M’lord! M’lord! Miss Seongsu has lived here all her life. The underworld is but a humble place; the young lady does not know her etiquettes. I beg you to forgive her.”

The stranger, whom you now knew was named Jongho, looked at you again. “Seongsu? What a strange, interesting name.”

You shook your head. “It is not a name, Sir. It is merely a title”, you explained. He only hummed in understanding.

Jongho studied you for a while and then carefully pulled you up by your arm. Standing at your own two feet, you realized how broad and tall he truly was. “I have never seen a soul this old. Remarkable. You do not know who I am, yet greeted me with such great obeisance. Why?”

You suddenly understood. It turned out it wasn’t that your sincerity was lacking, but that it was too profuse. You honestly told him, “You’re so handsome that I wanted to… I wanted to…” Untimely, your vocabulary failed you. In your panic, you randomly grasped for a word you didn't even know where you got it from: “I wanted to seduce you.”

And with that, not just the lower leaf soul beside you, but all souls near gave you a ‘you're hopeless’ look.

He chuckled. “What a straightforward thing you are.”

You did not understand what it meant, but thought of it as a compliment. “Then, can I seduce you Sir?”

“I won't be staying long. I've only come to witness the trial of the souls I sent here*².”

What he meant was ‘no’. You lowered your gaze, a little disappointed.

“You've only ever stayed here, right?”, he suddenly asked. Hesitantly, you nodded.

Jongho seemed lost in thought for a moment. “And yet, I can see it.”

“See what, Sir?”, you asked.

“Your beginning trial of fate.”

“My beginning trial of fate? You must be joking, Sir, I cannot-” You suddenly recalled the old, wise soul you encountered years earlier. He said the same, but you didn't believe him.

Could you believe Jongho now?

“Do you want to leave this realm?”

You never thought of that before. Yet, for whatever reason, your lips formed the word ‘yes’.

“You are something special. A special soul like you… doesn't follow an ordinary trial like other souls. I will take you with me and make sure all will go well, but I must enter the underworld first.”

Your eyes widened. A soul like you, bound to this place, had the opportunity to leave? As if you'd say no to that.

He cast a golden seal on your wrist. “As a spiritual being, you need to learn to be smarter. Hereafter, take care to protect your vital portal.” He added, “Those who are stronger won’t always be as kind as I am. I will give you this to protect you. All beings will know you belong with me.”

Jongho looked you in the eyes again, before going and crossing the river.

“Jongho”, you called out to him, “once we are out of here, can I seduce you?”

He stopped, his figure floating above the water and laughed amused, “if you can manage to, go ahead.”

You took that as a challenge. Without turning around, he entered deep into the underworld and you remained, waiting eagerly for his return.

A stone soul appeared before you.

“Miss”, it called out to you.

“Hm?”

“Could it be that you developed some feelings for him?”

You turned to the soul and asked in all seriousness: “What does it mean to develop feelings?”

“However the lovers act in those books human souls bring to you is however developing feelings should be.”

You thought about it for a moment. In those books you frequently read, the gentleman would meet the lady, the lady then curtsied, the two next conversed in a word or two, and then they would begin to do a number of ooh ooh ah ah actions they couldn’t help themselves from. You never thought to ooh ooh ah ah with Jongho, so you really didn’t think you were developing feelings for him.

“No”, you answered honestly.

The soul sighed. “That's right, I thought too much. A soul like you should never develop feelings for someone in such a way. I am not saying you should never like someone once you leave this place, Miss, but that gentleman is not that someone.”

“What do you mean?”, you asked.

“Why is that? He’s the best-looking and gentlemanly person I’ve ever met.” You paused, then added, “And he has the most pleasing voice to the ears.”

“Miss, that gentleman is the God of War! The reason he is here to witness the trial of fate is because he sent them all to their death! The only thing that matters to him is chaos and violence. He has no time for feelings.”

You did not care about the fact he had no love in his heart, but the first part irritated you. “Jongho is the God of War? But he is such a kind man.”

The soul gasped. “Kind? But you don't really believe that, right?”

When he saw your nod, the stone soul shook its head and said in helplessness, “When the Demon clan attacked Heaven with an army as strong as never seen before, Lord Jongho led thousands heavenly soldiers and wiped them clean. Afterward, he led his army down to the Demon capital and massacred the entire Demon clan; blood flowed like water then. In the past decade, there has been no sound uttered by the demons. That’s because any demon three years and older has been exterminated.”

You remembered that event. During that time, the underworld became incredibly overcrowded. Although you now knew these demons were killed by Jongho, it did not change your opinion of him. War was in fact a matter of killing and surviving. As the God of War, he had the duty to do what others were too shy to do in order to protect the heavenly realm. You were impressed.

“Thank you for telling me these things. I will continue to wait for Lord Jongho here.”

“Miss, do you still want to go with him?”

You grinned. “Yes. I’m going to the heavenly realm to seduce him.”

(*¹Korean for holy water)

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfiction #ateez angst #ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez jongho #jongho #jongho smut #jongho x reader #jongho fanfic #choi jongho #choi jongho fanfic #ateez choi jongho

108 notes · View notes

emeraldkniight · 2 months

Text

LIPS RED ENOUGH TO KILL A BIRD !

tim drake x fem!oc

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. . . smut. porn with plot. age gap (the original character is older for 13 years, but Tim is legal age), fem dominance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, the original character is a villain, probably this may have a part two. Teasing, oral sex, riding, dirty talk, fingering and hair pulling.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲… I had this idea a long time ago and I want to share it with you. On the other hand, I have a few pending requests, but I'm working on all of them, so don't worry. Enjoy, and I hope you like it. 🌷

She was probably the most attractive woman he had ever met.

Don't get him wrong, he could admire the beauty of a female villain without being completely attracted to her. But he swore he had never met anyone like Adeline, known to the Gotham Mafia as "The Queen of Hearts," so fierce and domineering that she could easily take your head off.

Batman had been in contact with her since Dick Grayson was Robin, and Tim had heard stories of her iconic fame throughout his training. She was even described as a woman who used her physical attractiveness as a method of hunting and getting what she wanted.

It was just a rumor. Until Tim Drake finally met her.

She was dangerous. Neither the Falcone family, nor Maroni, nor even Two-Face dared engage in illegal activity in the territories she protected. She ran every criminal organization in Gotham, and the rest were probably just her subjects. Because of this, she has always had an extreme rivalry with Batman, as they competed to be the most feared figures in the city.

And besides, Adeline was fascinated by the hunt, but Batman would never be her prey, but unfortunately the little bird would not have the same luck as the bat.

After a period of apparent inactivity by the Queen of Hearts, during which she was actually plotting in secret, the current Robin was forced to relinquish his mantle to Damian Wayne. Now an independent vigilante, he called himself Red Robin. It was at this moment that the Queen began to play her cards again and regain her influence as the most prominent figure in Gotham's criminal underworld.

These were reasons enough for Red Robin to be forced to investigate her.

It didn't take him long to realize that she was an incredibly smart woman. She managed every part of her plan to perfection. Thanks to old files, he was even able to learn that she built her own empire all by herself, without anyone lifting a finger to help her. She had easily earned her place in Gotham's underworld.

She and her clan were a cancer that Tim Drake had to eradicate from Gotham before it was too late.

Adeline returned to her penthouse that night, and Red Robin waited for her in the shadows of her living room. The apartment was so spacious that only an incredibly paranoid person would think someone was hiding there; she was probably one of those people.

She approached the long leather sofa, her red stiletto heels echoing on the floor with each step. The room was still dark and Tim stood at the far end, admiring her curvaceous, graceful silhouette as she sat down and lit a cigarette.

— Do you smoke? — She asked, aware of the vigilante's presence.

He did not answer.

— Mm... my doctor told me to stop. But it's the only way to calm my anxiety. Strange, isn't it? How many packs of cigars does a Mafia leader have to smoke to be completely calm?

Her voice was just like her: attractive, haughty, and most of all, sharp as a razor or even a playing card.

— You killed five men on the docks last week. I want to know why — He ordered, as if she was somehow obligated to give him answers.

However, she smiled with incredible superiority. Despite the distance, Tim could tell that her lips were painted with a deep red lipstick. She had an exaggerated obsession with the color red, but he couldn't blame her, considering how good it looked on her.

— You know very well, dear little bird, that everything in this world is governed by two things — She said, and started to walk towards the standing figure of Tim, who was standing on the mat in the room. —Love and money... and believe it or not, I am very selective about the things I lend, so you can already guess what happens when someone in this city owes me money for a long time. Bills are bills, Boy Wonder.

Tim was completely silent as soon as he heard the woman say his former nickname. How could she know that he was the former Robin?

— You're wrong about the nickname, Queen. I have no relationship with Robin, let alone Batman.

She approached without taking the smile off her face for a moment. She circled the man's figure, touching his hair with her gloved hand, teasing him.

— Don't try to fool me, Red Robin. I know everything there is to know in this city, which is everything. I know about you, how you were replaced. You were neither the first nor the last Robin Batman had, with the incredibly handsome Nightwing being the first and the red-hooded mercenary the second. If you lift a stone in this city, I know it. I have informants on so many sides, you probably won't know when you meet one. So don't try to play my game with me, I made it, and that's why I always win.

Tim felt like he was being devoured by Adeline's withering gaze every second. He felt cornered, contained, disappointed that he had underestimated her and believed that she didn't know everything about him, his past and his family.

— So... you probably know that I have been investigating you. I've been watching your every move for months.

She moved closer, so close that Tim could have sworn he felt her lipstick on his ear, and whispered:

— On the rooftops, in the windows of the buildings in front of this penthouse, everywhere I go, nothing escapes me, little bird. And although I've always loved the hunt, I must admit that this cat-and-mouse game you're playing is turning me on.

He wasn't quite sure how he had left her apartment that night without being attacked by her henchmen or her guards, but even though she was aware of it, Tim continued to watch her from a distance. He came to believe that the Queen of Hearts was so used to being followed that she didn't even flinch when she learned that she was a victim of it.

She went all over the city, from that fancy bar in Chinatown to certain abandoned businesses in the Warehouse District and finally to the same address as always: her apartment on the east side of the city.

From the moment Tim saw her through the large window, sitting on her couch, he knew Adelaine was waiting for him. With those black eyes, she seemed to be inviting Red Robin to pay her a visit. And under no circumstances could Timothy Drake refuse.

Adeline was not surprised to see the black silhouette in the room again. It would be a lie to say that she had inadvertently neglected the security of her apartment; deep down, she knew that Red Robin was trained to overcome even the tightest security systems. After all, he had been trained by Batman.

— You disabled the alarms. — He said, walking slowly toward her. — Were you expecting visitors?

A mischievous smile lit her lips. He noticed that she looked even more stunning than the last time, even though she was alone in a silk robe and classic red polish on her nails, enjoying a bottle of wine. Without a doubt, she was dazzling.

— Honestly, I was just waiting for you — She admitted, leaving Tim perplexed. — Did you enjoy spying on me from the rooftops today, as usual? This time it was even adorable; no man had ever shown that level of interest in me before.

Red Robin was distracted when he noticed a brown folder on the coffee table that appeared to be a collection of files. Confidently, he picked up the folder, eager to discover its contents.

— What is this? — He asked, lifting the folder so that the distinguished woman could examine it.

— Open it and you will know. No fear, little bird.

As he opened the folder, Tim froze. It contained a detailed file on himself: Timothy Drake Wayne. The document covered his childhood, the death of his parents, his legal adoption by Bruce Wayne, his career as Robin and additional details about his current alias. Unable to react, he simply studied the contents in silence.

Tim placed the documents back on the coffee table and watched her in surprise. He had profoundly underestimated Adeline, even going so far as to think he might be able to surpass her in intelligence and strategy.

— Believe me, I was also surprised to discover that the most influential family of millionaires in the city dressed up as vigilantes and fought crime. — She confessed, her classic red lipstick smile sending shivers down the young man's spine. — Though I must admit I wasn't surprised to discover that Bruce Wayne's third son was my stalker bird, I expected nothing less from a man as formidable as he.

Slowly, she approached him and motioned for him to sit down. Tim felt himself tense, aware that Adeline knew his secret identity. Now it was up to her to decide whether or not to reveal it to the world. He was sure that Adeline would not keep such a revealing secret without getting something in return.

— What do you want from me? — He asked. He was sure that even if she revealed his identity, he would not give in to blackmail or make deals with the mafia.

— Nothing from you. — She replied, approaching him and resting her hand on his knee — What Red Robin or Tim Drake may have is of no interest or use to me. To reveal your identity would expose you to my enemies, and I do not wish to do that. There is, however, something I can offer you.

He was on the verge of despair, convinced that he would have to reject any offer she made. But Adeline was breathtaking. He couldn't help but desire her and wonder what it would be like to feel her red lips and smooth, manicured skin. Her exquisite perfume almost intoxicated him. He knew he was behaving badly and would regret it later, but he thought he should not give in under any circumstances.

The next thing he knew, she was straddling him. Despite his attempts to pull away, Tim's body would not follow the commands of his brain. Instead, she placed her hands on his bare thighs and he closed his eyes, allowing her to devour his neck, leaving marks that would probably last for days.

Her robe had slipped down, revealing red lace underwear that immediately caught Tim's attention. Accustomed to her perfectly clothed body, she looked even more sensual than usual, half naked.

— I... — He hesitated, struggling to control himself. — I shouldn't.

Adeline pulled her lips away from Tim's neck and looked up at him with her classic mischievous smile, although this time her lipstick had smudged a little.

— You shouldn't, but you want to. And we both know you won't be able to resist.

Fuck, she was right. In her presence, Tim felt himself questioning his own intelligence. For a moment he decided to let her be right. After all, as she had told him, the queen of hearts always wins at her own game.

He sealed his lips with hers in a passionate kiss, accepting that he could not resist his urges. He kissed her with the intensity of one who surrenders at the last moment, and she reciprocated with the same fervor, allowing her tongue to meet his.

Tim soon realized that she was in control of the situation. Although they were both on the bed and he was naked, she remained clothed and dominated the scene by being on top of him.

— Fuck, what a good boy — She whispered, leaning down to kiss his chest and trace the contours of his torso with her lips. Tim shivered with excitement as he felt the brush of Adeline's lips on his defined abs, and then her tongue sliding along the curve of his waist. — But too impatient, I see.

Tim quickly grabbed a pillow to cover his face and muffle his moans. At that moment, Adeline descended until she was in front of his thighs and saw his towering erection, dripping with pre-cum.

A smile lit up her face. Gently, she began to caress him, instantly sensing the pleasure Tim was getting from her caresses and the woman's graceful movements. He moaned intensely against the fabric of the pillow and moved instinctively to pull her closer.

— Fuck, fuck... — He groaned, biting his lip.

Tim looked up and watched as Adeline stroked his hair, her eyes fixed on his body. Her hands moved gently down his cock, even going so far as to gently circle the head. From her perspective, the image was stunning; she had never been with a man in his twenties who looked so incredibly attractive. Despite his disheveled hair and the beads of sweat that accentuated his toned abs, he looked magnificent.

— Fuck, baby bird, you couldn't look hotter. — She told him, leaving short kisses on both sides of his inner thighs. — I want to devour you.

Immediately, Tim brought his hands up to Adeline's hair as she worked on his erection. Through her underwear, he could see the obvious wetness that showed her arousal. Meanwhile, she watched him enjoy her action and noticed the veins in his arms stand out as he held her hair.

Although she was an expert at it, she found it difficult to get something that big into her mouth without running the risk of gagging. Although the idea turned her on, she would not allow Tim to fuck her mouth. She was in charge, so things would be done her way.

— I'm going to cum. — He moaned loudly.

Since discovering her sexual attraction, she had found that she had a weakness for male moans. Tim's moans, however, were different; they were so hot that they completely captivated her.

— Hang in there like a big boy. — She said, pulling away for a moment to look at him — You'll have to fill me up later.

Tim was overcome with despair. He didn't know how long he could keep his cock in the woman's mouth before he climaxed and spurted down her throat.

He began to recall unpleasant moments in his life, hoping to distract himself and extend the time. After barely two minutes, however, he realized that he couldn't hold out much longer and that if she was going to fuck him, she should start now.

— Fuck me now, please. — He begged, almost crying. — I don't think I can resist much longer.

She paused for a moment and pulled away to remove the rest of her clothes. Then she approached him again and straddled him.

Tim watched her and was shocked to see her naked and realize how unbelievable it was that a woman like her was with him. Especially considering that although he was of age, she probably still thought of him as a young man.

— All right, baby bird. You've done surprisingly well. And for your good fortune, I usually reward those who behave.

Without thinking too much about it, she moved gracefully on his hips, allowing him to fill her completely. In a way, it was she who was enjoying herself, moving her hips to enjoy herself and at the same time to see him enjoying as well.

Tim struggled inside, aware that she was in control, but wanting to please her at the same time. He considered sliding his fingers to her pussy, and to his relief, Adeline moved to allow his touch.

As he had suspected, she was completely wet. Her clit responded immediately to his caresses, causing her to tremble with pleasure, which made her moan softly. Meanwhile, Tim caressed her throbbing clit with his fingers while Adeline's hips continued to move on him.

— Who assured you that keeping your identity secret would be free, little bird?

#dc comics #dc universe #tim drake x fem!reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake smut #tim drake #batboys #smut #original character #original female character #batboys smut

76 notes · View notes

buckysimp101 · 2 years

Text

Everything the Light Touches (18+) - Masterlist

Mafia!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It started with two kids. Two stupidly in-love kids, forcefully separated with threats of violence and war. One destined to inherit part of the seedy underworld of Manhattan, one blissfully ignorant of their role in it. Their lives split ten years ago but now they’re back. Secrets will be uncovered, lies will be revealed, and empires will fall.

Story Warnings: Smut, Language, Violence, Death, MINORS DNI. More specific warnings will be added at the beginning of each chapter.

a/n: Oooooooh boy! Let’s get into it friends! Taglist is open, send me a message or leave a comment if you wish to be added to it! Also, I know this fic has the same name as the Lion King quote and I promise it’ll make sense when we get started lol. This is a WIP & will be cross-posted on AO3 & Wattpad if you prefer to read it there! Same username for these three platforms.

Main Story

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty (coming soon)

Updates

Hiatus Announcement 3/18/2023

#mafia!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x yn #hades x persephone kind of #everything the light touches fic #buckysimp101 #bucky barnes is a dummy #mafia au #mafia!bucky x yn #mafia!bucky x reader

2K notes · View notes

simping-overload · 8 months

Text

sampos tango

commission for @pickingpixel

First time writing smut! I like how it turned out.

summary: sampo manages to drag you into a naked wrestling tournament.

tags: dom/sub understones, naked wrestling, gay, male reader, bottom reader, top sampo, reader is not trailblazer.

word count: 2,759 | ao3 link

ヾthis is a multi-fandom blog that is designed for mlm/nbmlm identifying readers! so if you're female or fem alligened, please do not follow or interact with my mlm related post!! you will be blocked if you do not heed this warning ゛

You stare at the wrinkled flyer in your hand, rereading the headline for the 15th time. It an advertisement for a naked wrestling tournament? The contesents were allowed to do whatever they wanted with the opponent. Whoever wins gets a grand prize of 10,000 credits.

You look up at Sampo with a disgruntled look, "There is no way in hell I am doing this."

Sampo chuckles, slinging an arm around your shoulder, ignoring the way you sqirum under his touch. "Well, my dear, you don't have much of a choice. After all, you did lose the bet, and I have your agreement to it in writing." He says, wrapping himself further around you, pinning you to his chest. "We both know the things I can do to you if you try and back out."

He uses his other hand to tilt your head up towards him, the devious glint his eyes make the hairs on the back of your neck stand tall. You simply nodded your head to the forced agreement. His signature grin returns, and he realses you from his death grip of a hold.

Sampo clasps his hands together, "Wonderfull, my dear! Just make sure to be early. We wouldn't want you to be late after all." He turns on his heel, slipping back into the shadows, disappearing from view.

You stood there for a few more moments thinking things over. You didn't think that single simple piece of paper would have such a control over you. However, it would've been far worse if Sampo wanted it to be. You really need to stop associating yourself with him, even your colleagues, disprove of him.

They say you shouldn't trust him. He's a con artist, and he has so many enemies that probably will become yours one day. Although there's just something about him... probably just the charm of a con artist. He just seems like someone you want to keep close for whatever reason that may be.

You turn on your heel, heading into the direction of your home. Preparing for whatever shit shows you just got yourself into.

The place was swarming with over and underworlders alike, some you even recognized, but thankfully, none has recognized you yet. You make your way through the crowd, trying to get a glimpse of the blue hair con. For such a tall man, he is difficult to spot.

You approach the check-in desk, and there are two identical looking workers who seem to be nothing but tight boxer briefs and a name tag stuck to their muscled chest. They greet you in synch.

"Hi, I think I'm supposed to check in here? My names (Y/N) and I'm supposed to be one of the uh contestants." You managed to stammer out, trying not to get caught having your eyes anywhere but theirs.

The one on the left, Jax, begins scanning through the list while the other, Max, eyes you up and down.

"So, who dragged you into this? You don't look like you'd sign up for yourself willingly."

You sigh, shifting your weight, "I lost a bet, and I was wondering if a man named Sampo checked in? He's tall with blue hair."

Max nods and points behind you, "I think that's your guy."

Jax holds out a pen and paper out towards you, "Before you run off, we need you to sign this. It's just a consent form of what could happen during the matches."

You sign the papers quickly, thanking both of them before going to Sampo, who is leaning against a pillar scrollling in his phone. He seemed to notice your approach, making his way to you.

"Good to see you, my friend! Hope you're ready. " He grins, grabbing your hand and tugging you along with him. He brings you to what looks like to be a dressing room that only has empty hanging racks and a few of body oils spread along the counter.

Sampo clasps hands together, sly grin etched onto his face, "Well, for the first order of business, Strip."

This makes you choke on your own spit in surprise, "Can we at least go over how these rounds are gonna go and general rules too before you see me naked?"

"It's simple. It's elimination based. You defeat your opponents and climb your way up to victory. The matches are timed, so whoever is on the ground at the end loses." Sampo starts to explain and gestures to you to start removing your clothing.

You start with your shirt, shivering when the cold hair hits your skin. You slip off your shoes and socks, shivering more as your feet touch the cold tiles. While you're undoing your pants, you ignore how Sampos gaze falls on your crotch.

"I won't be participating in these matches. I won't be able to stop anyone from doing certain... things to you. So you need to make sure you dont allow anyone to get the upper hand." He places your shirt and pants on the counter, sliding your shoes and socks under.

You stop on the waist band of your boxers, nervous. You've never been naked in front of someone you knew personally. The only people that'd seen you naked are random hook-ups.

Sampo notices your hesitation, "If you're worried about being judged. Don't be. I've seen my fare share of dicks. I highly doubt yours will disappoint."

The comment made the blush on your face grow brighter. With a shakey breath, you slip out of your boxers.

"Well, that wasn't so bad. Was it? You're pretty decant size, too...nothing to be ashamed about."

"It's more embarrassing than bad, honestly. This is the first time I'll be naked in front of such a large crowd."

Sampo turns for a moment, grabbing a random bottle of body oil. "You'll be fine~ Most of the contesents are new to this too. No ones gonna judge you."

"Now, we have to smother this all over you, aside from your hands and feet, of course. Do you want to do it or me?" Sampo asks, leaning back in his chair, his eyes not so stubly trailing up your body.

"I'll do it, thanks, but you'll have to get my back. Also... I saw on the waver that people would try and have sex with their opponents? How would that even work. I thought these matches were timed." You ask, taking the bottle from his hand as you turn away from him. You put the oil on your hand, giving it a sniff. It was a subtle semll of coconut. At least you'll smell good.

"Yes, though, that matches are timed, 3 minutes each. If the pair starts to do the deed, they'll extend it to 5 so the audience can have a good show. You might even be able to see the audience getting off to it themselves. But if you're not going to do it, the matches stay the same, and as long as you have the person pinned down for a few seconds, you'll win."

You hummed, listening to him talk as you spread the oils on you. You start with the legs, making your way to your dick, quickly going over before pulling away and grabbing more oil.

You move to your torso and sides, lathering them up generously. You reach your shoulders when you feel bare hands lay themselves on your hips.

You freeze up for a moment, leaving your hands to rest on your tense shoulders. You don't even try to look up at Sampo as he begins to run his hands on your sides.

He rubs the oils into the skin even more, moving to drag the access on your lower back, dangerously close to your rear. He pulls his hand away for a meer second before pouring the oil on his hand and spreading it along your back.

The way his hands glide along your back, spreading the oils into every nook and cranny it can reach. You resist the urge to fall putty under his skilled hands.

It's a few more seconds before his hands leave your back. You nearly whined at the loss of contact.

A voice suddenly came over the rooms speakers, "All contestants, please make your way to the rink. You have 5 minutes."

You look at Sampo, who's just finished drying off his hand with an old rag. He makes his way to the door and beckons you to follow.

You follow him silently, keeping your gaze to the ground as you walk by the other naked contesents. You'd rather not get a face full of someone's junk.

You narrowly miss bumping into Sampo when he stops. Peaking out behind his large frame, you set your eyes on the wrestling ring. Stars, it was huge. So was the crowd.

If they were closer, you could've sworn they'd blown out your eardrums.

"Well, it's game time. Are you ready?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Good. Make sure to show them who they're dealing with. The most important thing to do is win. Just do that, and those credits are ours." Sampo grins, pushing your forward into the arena.

You go to stand next to the line of contesents. Head up tall, not letting your gaze leave the crowd.

With a few announcements from the host you couldn't bother focusing on, the matches has begun. You tap your foot in anticipation, snapping out of your trance when your name is called.

"(Y/N) and Kody, please come to the stage!"

You and a very burly man make your way up the ring. You shake hand before the match begins. He gets the first hit on you, making you quickly learn that he is top heavy. You dodge the next attempt to tackle you. Moving out of the way fats enough to grip the back of his neck and slam him on the ground, making sure to force your entire body weight onto him.

The referee calls it before you send off the ring, waiting for your turn again. Sampo was right about those who tried and sometimes succeeded in having sex. They even still had cum dripping out of their holes and dicks.

Your matches didn't last long, not long enough for someone to successfully grab your dick anyway.

You reach the end smoothly, standing on the back of your last opponent as the crowd chants your name.

The chant slowly dies down when a certain blue hair con artist makes his way to the rink, the spot light shining on his naked body.

The announcers cackle over the speakers, "You guys couldn't have thought that we weren't gonna end this without a bang. Now give it up for Sampo, one of our longest running contesents! Let's see if our new hotshot can win."

You step off of the man under you, staring at the blue-eyed bastard in front of you.

He grins mischievously, "I knew you'd make it this far. Now, let's see if you can make it past me."

You don't know what to say, thoughts getting interrupted as the referee begins the match. Sampo is quick to advance, throwing you against the borders of the ring, nearly making you fall through the ropes. He grabs you in a choke hold, pressing himself against you.

You claw and scratch at his arm, freezing for a split second when he rubs himself against you. You lean forward before quickly reversing and slamming into Sampo.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!"

You managed to get Sampo off his feet and back on the ground. Slipping out of the hold, you move to pin his arms down and attempt to pin his long legs with yours.

"Just having a little fun, of course. Plus, it looks like I'm not the only one getting excited." Sampo chuckles, looking down at your harden dick.

Your head snaps down, checking to see if it was true. By the time you processed the truth, you were flipped over by Sampo.

He pins your arms with one hand, using his other to hold your hip down. He rubs himself against your, agonizingly slow.

"Sampo..." You whimper, already getting worked up. You internally curse yourself for becoming undone so quickly. You attempt to create more friction by rubbing yourself against him but fail as the hand on your hips doesn't allow you to move.

Sampo grin doesn't falter, if anything it judt grows. He leans towards you, noses almost touching.

"Yes, my dear?" Sampo asks with a teasing tone.

"Please..." You whimper out, desprate for his touch.

"Please, what? You'll have to use your words. C'mon now .." Sampo uses his thumb to rub at the dips of your hips. As if trying to be encouraging.

Sampo gazes down at you, his eyes feel like they can see your soul.

"Please fuck me, Sampo."

Sampo chuckles, taking his hand off your hip, not minding the way you start grinding your dick against his. He cups your face and gives you a soft pat before slipping two of his fingers into your mouth.

"Be a good boy and get those all nice and wet. Don't leave it dry."

You obliged, eagerly sucking off his fingers. Some of your saliva dripped its way out of your mouth and onto the floor. Sampo moves to rub himself against you again. Instead of your dick he chooses to run himself underneath your balls, having a hunch that's one of the places that you're sensitive.

Indeed, your were, the muffled moan around his fingers made it clear. This causes a tiny bit of your precum to start to drip out of your tip.

Sampo gives his hand a slight tug, a small warning before pulling his drenched fingers away from your mouth.

He moves his hand downward towards your hole. He lines his finger up with it, looking up at you for confirmation. You nod quickly.

Throwing your head back when he pushes inside, your walls tighten around him. He thrusts it in and out, letting you get used to the feeling before adding the other.

He adds the second in, despite the tightness he manages to scissor and curl his fingers. At this point, you're a drooling mess. Not at all used to his heavenly feeling. You can feel that certain knot in your stomach tighten.

You look up at Sampo, pleading eyes displaying how desprate you are for him. "Sampo, please... I need you in me so bad."

Sampo is glad he deemed you stretched out enough to take him and the way you say his name makes him want to pound you into the ground.

He slips his fingers out, admiring your the way your hole clenches around nothing. He lines his dick up, pushing in slowly. Enjoying the way you tighten around him.

You moan loudly, fuck... he felt huge, making you feel so full and good already.

He bottoms you out, balls slapping against your ass. He relases your wrists from his hold, placing his hands on either side of your head as he looks at the stomach bulge and back up at you.

You press one of your hands down on the bulge, liking the way it shapes into your skin. Sampo takes this as the queue to begin moving.

He starts out slow and hard before gradually going faster. Soon, the only thing you can focus on is the way he keeps hitting your prostate perfectly.

He moves your legs, putting them into a matting press as he thrusts deeper. He dives down, catching his lips with yours. Swallowing the sound of the beautiful sounds you let out.

His thrusts start to become erratic and sloppy as he fucks you, a sign that he's reaching his peak. You are as well.

You wrap your arms around Sampo, pressing your forehead against his, your last clouded eyes lock with his. "Fuck, Sampo I gotta cum so bad."

"Yeah I do too, let's cum together yeah?"

You nod eagerly.

"1,2,3...fuck. Baby, you feel so good." Sampo groans out, realsesing his load into you, pressing right against your protaste as he does so. You cum in long spurts, it landing mostly on your chest but some on his aswell.

He slowly takes his dick out of you once he's finished. Letting your shakey legs back onto the mat. He kisses you once more, mumbling sweet praises as he rubs your thigh.

He looks up at the referee proud and carefree look on his face.

"The winner is: Sampo!"

#x male reader #honkai star rail #honkai x reader #honkai x you #sampo koski #sampo koski x reader #sampo koski x male reader #sampo x reader #sampo x you #sampo x male reader #smut #hsr smut #sampo smut #dom/sub #dom sampo #sub reader #hsr x reader #hsr x male reader

202 notes · View notes

asmolfolk · 2 months

Note

Hi S. Can I request hc for Hades (RoR) and fem s/o? S/o is having a bad day and Hades comforts her intimately? 18+ and fluff please. Have a good day/night!

After a long time, guess who is back again? I finally finish my studies and I'm just chilling right now. So, as I'm in a Hazbin Hotel, HSR, Wuthering Waves and ZZZ brainrot And, I'm trying to get back at my feet for writing - if this isn't good is because of that :< (Also if any of you noticed that I didn't put dialogues with the S/O, it's mostly for her to also represent people with disabilities that makes them rely on sign language and everything <3) Also! If anyone is interested in Hazbin Hotel AU's, I have an > alternative Account < for drawings [what will include my au's <3] and also, I will probably start posting some X reader and long fanfics in my AO3 account. Also, I post some arts in my Twitter <3 Click on the pink text to go to the links <3 —— —͙ – -✰ Fandom: Record of Ragnarok / Shuumatsu no ValkyrieCharacters: Hades. Warnings: Smut! —— —͙ – -✰

Hades x S/O: Feelings.

Hades is a simple man: The world could BURN and he wouldn't bait an eye, he doesn't care about humans, about other gods - except for his beloved, Persephone and his Brother. You and Persephone are the only ones who would make Hades go against his brother, against everything he worked so hard to maintain. Hades has no limitation when the topic were the two of you. Even if he wasn't in a romantic relationship with Persephone, this would be the same. You, bless your soul, already knew about his completely devotion - First of all, he never tried to hide it. Anubis, Thanatos and other gods associated with death noticed his demanour since the beginning. [And Thanatos is oblivious as fish swimming in the sea.] Not only that, but also: Loki RUINED your outfit, Hermes had to get you to the underworld - you were so close to breaking down in front of Loki...

This whole event was too much for you, especially because Hermes wouldn't let you interact with him. You had to go to Hades's room and already saw him, he was just with his pant while he seemed to be a bit... Tired, but, he just needed to look at you to have a smile.

"My beloved... What a pleasure seeing you" He looked at you and got closer, taking your hand after seeing the ruined outfit and the dirt, he was immediately pissed "What happened? Who did this to you?"

You couldn't bring yourself to answer him properly, your words were left to nothing as you sobbed, the gibberish you were saying didn't make him understand what was happening, but he knew that you needed a hug... And a bath.

"Come on, my beautiful wife... Let's take a bath"

Hades would spend his whole time just bathing you, hearing you spill your heart to him, telling him about everything that has gone wrong... And he would tell you how amazing you were, how strong you were and to praise you as you continued your story. Only when you were finished telling him everything, he would start to clean you up, he would dare to pick a cloth for you, he would just carry you - again - to his room and lay you down to the bed.

"My wife... Would you like me to sing you praises?" He always said that before going at you... And, as anyone would say. You just nodded. He was imediately, holding your thighs, letting space for him to be in between them "If you want to stop, just say 'Stop', okay? I wouldn't want to overwhelm you." He was always sweet, he always putted your own pleasure as his top priority... He didn't care if he didn't have a shot, if he didn't touch himself... He could be satisfied with just making you feel pleasure.

He started as always, kissing your clit as one of his hand started to do circles through your entrance until he started to push his fingers in and out, he was relief at hearing your moans and pleads to be faster. He just gave anything that you asked him, he started sucking your clit as his fingers started to get faster. As a reflect, you imprisioned his face against your thighs, you felt like you could suffocate him - until you remembered that gods don't need to breath. Hades didn't even cared with how much your legs trembled as he guided you to a much deserved orgasm.

He drinked it, drinked and licked anything left. He - as always smiling and looking at you with pride and love - would just take of his gloves and touch your face. "Do you feel better, my love?" After losing your senses for a second or so, you could only rely on your lips reading to tell him Yes. He would lay at your side, holding your waist and softly caressing your cheeks. "You can sleep if you want to, my beloved wife... I will wait for you."

The day was too much for you... But at least, you would sleep peacefully with your husband at your side, hugging you as if you were close to disapear.

—— —͙ – -✰ The next posts will be: OC x Reader, ROR x Reader and Hazbin Hotel x Reader. Stay tunned <3 [Hazbin Hotel will include Oc's, but they are just there for plot - Since it will be a long fic.]

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #x female reader #female reader #hades ror #record of ragnarok headcanons #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok smut #x reader smut #smut #ror smut #hades smut #hades ror x reader #hades ror smut

62 notes · View notes

makethatelevenrings · 2 years

Text

Invisible // B. Wayne x f!reader

Requested? Yes!

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT MINORS DNI, praise kink, sex toys

Summary: It seems like nothing you can do is right or valued. Your husband makes sure you know you’re loved.

“The Princess of Gotham,” tabloids declared. “Wayne’s woman.”

You hated the attention, especially the focus on your relationships rather than your work. To the public, you were the one who reformed notorious playboy Bruce Wayne to settle down. To the Justice League, you were Batman’s guiding compass and the only one able to wrangle all of the Gotham vigilantes.

Every detail about you and your family’s life was under constant scrutiny from the press and the public. You couldn’t even go to the grocery store with Alfred anymore without someone taking a photo and posting it on the internet criticizing your clothes and hair. You were exhausted, but you had an easy job. Your family were under the microscope of paparazzi by day and being beaten down by the criminal underworld of Gotham and Bludhaven at night.

You felt guilty by your frustration and frustrated by your guilt. It was a constant cycle of never being good enough. While you excelled with one kid, you failed another. Where you shone in one spot of the press, you faltered in another.

That frustration and guilt is why you found yourself aggressively beating the shit out of some eggs in the kitchen. Alfred sat at the table with a newspaper in hand, his eyes occasionally flickering to where you were making pancakes. Your wrists ached from the sheer amount of pancake batter you had made, but you had to make sure it would be enough for a small army because curse your family’s insane metabolism.

You were so engrossed in your work that you didn’t even hear footsteps enter the kitchen until a voice spoke up.

“Uhhh…Alf? You okay?” Tim asked. “Why aren’t you cooking?”

“Mistress Y/N insisted on making breakfast this morning and I agreed to the welcome break.”

“Hi Timmy,” you greeted. “Coffee pot’s full and I set out your favorite mug.”

He eyed you suspiciously but headed over to pour himself a cup regardless. As you were pouring batter onto the griddle, more people started piling into the kitchen. You tried to keep up with the food specifications you remembered. Strawberries for Jason, whipped cream and chocolate chips for Dick, waffles for Steph instead of pancakes, the list went on and on. By the time Bruce came downstairs, you had pancake batter smeared across your forehead and flour all down the apron you were wearing.

“Morning?” His greeting sounded more like a question as he bent down to press a kiss to your cheek. You let out a noncommittal hum and handed him a plate with a towering stack of pancakes.

“You have a meeting with Lucius at nine, a tour of the updated children’s wing of the hospital at eleven, lunch at one with Amanda Waller, a meeting with Lois at three to give her quotes on a story, and Tim and you need to discuss the next gala preparations with the design team at some point today,” you rattled off. “I made sure everyone’s calendars were updated and you will get notifications fifteen minutes before an event.”

The table fell silent and you looked up to find many, many concerned vigilantes staring at you. You flipped the last pancake up and onto a plate without even looking and set it in front of Alfred, pointedly ignoring the magazine he had traded out when Bruce snagged the newspaper from him. The front page cover was detailing your fashion fails of the year instead of the thousands you had raised and donated for Arkham reforms and better research into mental health.

“Alright, then. I need to go shower and get ready for the day,” you announced. You brushed the dirt metaphorically, and literally holy shit that was a lot of flour, off of your hands, hung your apron up on the wall hooks, and flitted out of the kitchen without another word.

“Did she…did she even eat?” Duke asked. Bruce lowered his coffee from his lips and his eyes narrowed as he thought over the question.

“Alfred, did Y/N eat before she cooked breakfast?”

“No, Master Bruce, I believe she did not. She was entirely focused on serving breakfast this morning. It appears, sir, that she is feeling as though she has something to prove.”

The world’s greatest detective took in the crime scene around him. Frantic morning cooking, making sure everyone had their favorite food, schedules memorized…his gaze drifted to the magazine in Alfred’s hands and it all clicked into place.

Bruce shoved back from the table and stood. “Alfred, cancel my meetings for the day unless someone else can take them. I have something I need to do.”

“Right on, sir. Took you long enough.” The last part was muttered and Bruce didn’t even have a retort for that. Alfred was right, as usual. His wife felt like a burden and he needed to prove that she wasn’t.

You took a longer than normal shower, but it was still under twenty minutes. There might have been a few tears shed. You were just bone tired and didn’t know how to fix it. It felt like nothing you did was ever enough.

Sliding on the short, silken robe Bruce had bought you once, you entered the master bedroom and paused at the sight of your husband seated on the bed.

“You’re supposed to be heading to work right now,” you pointed out.

“Tim is handling the business side of things. Dick and Jason are going to the hospital wing opening, Cass will handle Waller.”

“Okay…did something happen? JL business? Rogue attack?”

“No.”

You tossed your pajamas into the dirty clothes hamper in the massive closet attached to the master bedroom and turned to lean against the doorframe. You were fully aware of the silken fabric rippling across your skin and the heat of his gaze as he traced the lines of your body. Bruce held his hand out for you and, like he was gravity, you approached the bed and slid your hand in his.

“Have I told you recently how beautiful you are?” he murmured. One of his hands slid down to rest at the hem of the robe. It brushed just barely over the tops of your thighs and his fingers dug into the sensitive skin there, pulling you closer so his face was nearly level with your stomach.

“Every part of you,” he said. Bruce slid his hands along the back of your thighs, over the swell of your ass, and up your back before he moved to caress your stomach. He drew his hands along your skin to the front of the ties of your robe. Slowly, carefully, as if unwrapping a fragile present, he undid the knot and slipped the sleeves down your arms.

The robe dropped to the floor, pooling at your feet in a puddle of silken barrier. You were nude before him, a sight he had seen many times, but this felt different. Bruce tilted his chin up to gaze upon you like you were the moon and he was seeing the night sky for the very first time.

“Your brilliant mind,” he breathed, brushing one hand over your temple. You shuddered against his touch, your eyes falling shut as your heart swelled with affection.

“Your beautiful smile.” A touch against your lips. One of his fingers slipped between your lips and stroked along your tongue. You hollowed out your cheeks and sucked along his calloused finger before releasing it with a pop, eliciting a groan from him. He dragged his hand down to your neck, his fingers enclosing lightly around your throat as your own personal collar.

“Your voice. Hearing you speak about reforming the city or talking about the kids or chewing out idiots is so incredibly hot.” The hand slipped lower to rest on your sternum and he leaned forward, his lips capturing one of your nipples. You ran your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck and arched your chest against his warm tongue. He chuckled low in his throat as he licked, sucked, and lavished attention on your breast before breaking away to do the same to the other.

“God, I love your tits,” he rasped once he pulled away. You were panting by now, ache and need pooling between your thighs. Your mouth opened in a broken moan as his hands slid lower…almost there…almost… his hands left your body.

He hummed, pleased with himself as you whined at the loss of contact. Bruce grabbed your ass and he swiftly spun you around and laid you out onto the bed. His strong hands held your thighs apart and he gazed at your core with a fire burning in his eyes.

“I love the pretty noises you make and how wet you get for me and how good you squeeze around my cock. Because you’re my best girl. So good for me. Perfect.”

He punctuated his sentence by flattening his tongue and licking a stripe up your cunt. One of his hands left your thigh and reached off to the side, but you were too busy thinking about the sheer heat that burned in your veins to question his actions until the small bullet vibration touched your clit and sent sparks through your fucking toes. You yelped, high and breathy as the vibrator dipped lower to sop up some of your juices and then returned back to your bundle of nerves.

“The best part is that only I get to hear those noises,” he praised. “Only I get to pull you apart and put you back together. I love you, Y/N, and I don’t say it enough.”

“Enough sappy bullshit,” you panted. “Stop being a fucking tease and let me come.”

You could feel his grin against the thin skin of your thigh as he plunged a finger into your weeping pussy. The thrust of his finger coupled with the constant vibration had waves of pleasure crashing over you in a matter of minutes. Bruce pressed a kiss stained with your juices against your thigh and then leaned his temple against your inner knee, gazing up at you.

“It’s easy to feel invisible when the world is focused on what they can see,” he said. “But what they don’t see is the person holding us all together.”

You blinked past the burning of tears in your eyes and flapped a dismissive hand at him. “Give me two more of those and then we can talk.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne smut #batman imagine #batman x reader #batman smut

2K notes · View notes

neowinestainedress · 2 years

Text

INFERNO

INFERNO | Halloween event

“Through me you go into a city of weeping; through me you go into eternal pain; through me you go amongst the lost people.” ― Dante Alighieri, La Divina Commedia, L’Inferno

SUMMARY: Hell seems so far away from us, but be careful, the most monstrous creatures lurk closer than you might think. And on Halloween, when anything is fair, they are not afraid to show themselves for what they are. The gates of the underworld are open, the damned souls are free.

PAIRINGS: various nct members x fem!oc/reader (as usual no name, no descriptions, written in third person)

GENRE: smut, halloween themed, monsters, (light) angst

WARNINGS: smut, monsterfucking, light dubcon (mostly because of the power imbalance that comes from monster x human relationship, minor corruption in some, or aphrodisiac fluids usage, but the mc is more than willing in all of them), some angst, blasphemy, slight yandere behaviours

A/N: the stories are NOT related to each other. Read each fic warning before proceeding and if you don’t like it just skip it. It’s fiction, monsters don’t exist, and these stories don’t represent nct in any way. I should be regular with the release dates, following the ones written here, but keep in mind that I’m also writing my thesis and not all of these are completed/started so they might be slightly delayed. If you want to be added to the taglist, comment under this post so I have all your usernames in one place. Enjoy!!

⸺ INTO THE WOODS

PAIRING: werewolf!johnny x werewolf!yangyang x werewolf!jeno x werewolf!jaehyun x werewolf!kun x fem!human!oc/reader

SUMMARY: ‘don’t go in the woods, past the first two rows of trees.’ It’s a simple rule, planted in every kid’s mind in the village since they are born. Nobody knows why, but nobody dares to question why. But pride leads to do dangerous things and what’s supposed to be a silly bet to prove something, gets you lost a bit too far into the scary forest. And those who seem to be polite strangers turn out to be something they’re not.

DATE: OCT 8

⸺ FALL FROM GRACE

PAIRING: seraphim!taeyong x succubus!oc/reader

SUMMARY: after consuming many human souls, there’s one thing you want to do. Corrupt an angel. But not any angel, God’s favorite angel.

DATE: OCT 14

⸺ SWEET LIES

PAIRING: ghost!jeno x fem!human!oc/reader

SUMMARY: you find out what’s the weird sensation that’s been torturing you for years, but just when you think things start to make sense, he confuses you even more. Are you really who he thinks you are?

DATE: OCT 16

⸺ ABANDONED

PAIRING: vampire!jaehyun x fem!human!oc/reader

SUMMARY: an abandoned castle, one quick walk upstairs and then you were going back to your friend. But the castle is not abandoned at all, and after many lonely years, somebody’s happy to finally have some company.

DATE: OCT 21 ON HOLD

⸺ DEEP WATERS

PAIRING: tentacle monster!haechan x fem!human!oc/reader

SUMMARY: all your life you heard stories about the monster that lives in the lake, but they never scared you. You were looking for him, hoping fate was going to lead you to him to prove yourself you’re not crazy for believing in his existence. And when it happens, he seems to be afraid of you.

DATE: OCT 23

⸺ SINFUL PERDITION

PAIRING: priest!kun x fem!human!oc/reader

SUMMARY: you get close to your town church again in the hope of finding your faith again, but the new priest seems to lead you closer to perdition than salvation. And when you get closer to him, you start to wonder if he really is who he seems to be.

DATE: OCT 28 ON HOLD

⸺ SWEET DECEPTION

PAIRING: pick the members here

SUMMARY: on Halloween, nothing is as it seems. You end up in a room with six guys thinking they have amazing costumes only to be struck by reality when it’s too late; those are not costumes at all. But remember, on October 31, nothing is as it seems.

DATE: OCT 31

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #wayv smut #nct scenarios #hallowtober #johnny smut #taeyong smut #kun smut #jaehyun smut #jeno smut #haechan smut #yangyang smut #series: inferno

962 notes · View notes

sailoryooons · 2 years

Text

Carved | Four | jjk (m)

→ Summary: Hundreds of years after the Underworld wins the war, Vaesen - demon kind - rule the Realms. The Vanir - creatures of light and the Heavens - are hunted and enslaved by Vaesen. When the demon prince Jungkook is given one of the Carved - angels who have been stripped of their wings - he has no idea what to do with you. You, however, have plans you are determined to see through. Even if it means death in the end.

→ Pairing: demon!Jungkook x angel!female reader

→ Rating: NSFW & 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging with this content. Any minors discovered interacting with adult content will be blocked immediately.

→ Type: Series

→ Genre: dystopian, urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, angst

→ Pairing: 8,254

→ Warnings: Graphic depiction of violence and fighting, graphic depiction of death and gore, depictions of death (including, but not describing the death of a child and family members), semi-complex fight scenes, mentions of manipulation and power imbalance, reader purposefully seducing Jungkook to get what she wants, mentions of something similar to subspace and reader taking advance of Jungkook in a subspace like state mentally, explicit language, power imbalances and mentions of enslaved creatures, Jungkook and reader get a little violent with one another but like.. in a pleasure able way so here we go for the sexually explicit warnings, reader goading Jungkook, unprotected vaginal sex, fingering, Jungkook kinda gets right too it, rough, slapping and biting, Jungkook being pretty rough and slamming reader around and shoving her into things, vulnerable mental states and manipulation, mild dirty talk tbh this sex scene is incredibly mild in terms of what I usually do, ummm I don't know guys it's a dark urban fantasy with weird shit, unedited should be a warning because I did a grammarly check and nothing else oops. ALSO PLS KEEP IN MIND THIS SEX SCENE IS BLAND BECAUSE OF THE SPECIFIC SCENARIO THEY ARE IN. I ASSURE YOU MUCH MORE DETAILED AND EXPLICIT SMUT IS IN THE FUTURE, BUT IT WASNT THE VIBE HERE

→ Main Masterlist: here

→ Series Masterlist: here

→ faq

A/N: IT'S FINALLY HERE. Sorry this was so delayed. I was dealing with writers block pretty severely, work has been really crazy and demanding, I've been really tired and also my mentally manipulative ex-boyfriend decided to unalive himself so that was a weird week, I was trying to find new apartments and yeah this chapter has been re-written at least 5 times. Also I apologize I said fuck it we ball and this is absolutely only edited with a grammarly check. I will edit in full tomorrow but I do not have the brain capacity to do it right now, she is Tapped Out but I promised I would post this mf chapter tonight. Does any one have any theories as to what's going on yet teehee.

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgement or representation of real life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. BTS is not BTS culturally, intellectually, physically or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

/ PREVIOUS / NEXT CHAPTER /

Screams split the air. For a second, you hesitate, turning to the source of the chaos. It erupts beyond the door, startling several Vaesen inside of the room. You react first, shooting toward the door with Taehyung and Jungkook on your heels.

The sound that greets you is a symphony of shattering glass, surprised screams and varying degrees of carnage. A table flips in front of you as you enter the main ballroom. You sidestep it easily as it fractures against Taehyung, who hardly flinches before vanishing into the surging crowd of running and swarming Vaesen and Vanir.

With careful movements, you slid out of your heels, feet pressing against broken glass. It doesn’t bite or cut your skin – only real weapons can do that – but it’s uncomfortable as you take a defensive stance, aware how vulnerable you are in a tiny, sheer dress and no weapon.

Blood-slicked floors greet you. The screams of the Vaesen make your lips twitch upward slightly. Chaos has erupted in a tableau of overturned tables, shattered champagne glasses, pearl-draped demons hiding behind fractured, round tables, and a dark, wet hissing sound.

Whatever creatures have entered the room smell wrong, like honey gone sour or sweet cream curdled. Your eyes sweep the painting of chaos before you.

And then you see them.

Your heart stills for one painfully long second, stretched like skin pulled too tight over bone. They’re… seraphim but not.

The creatures have dark, pitted eyes with black veins rippling over sallow skin. They’re naked and feature no distinct gender, appearing stitched together. Their ribs are prominent and you’re unsure if it’s by design or emaciation. There are mismatched wings on their bodies, opening and closing uncontrollably at awkward intervals and angles like they don’t know how to use them - or maybe can’t.

A creature lets out a screech and cuts a vampire lord in half, blood spraying the wall like watercolor on canvas. There is a dozen of them, and they all have swords, crudely shaped but you can almost taste the adamas in the swords.

Fucking hells. They have swords of Heaven.

Jungkook appears at your side, dark eyes scanning the room as the Not-Seraphim spread throughout, cutting through screaming party goers who are unarmed beyond their own fangs and teeth. You can scent gore in the air and your blood hums: it smells like a killing pitch.

“Reaper.” Jungkook says the name like a command. The name is both yours and not yours. It is one of many names. One of many people you are. His voice slithers down your back, eliciting a shiver. He holds out a dagger. Reaper is the person Jungkook needs you to be. “Find my niece.”

You take the dagger and come alive. The hellstone throbs in your hand, metal carved from the deepest pits of the underworld and forged in hellfire. You tighten your grip and move forward.

One step and you’re in front of one of the Not Angels. It cocks it’s head and pauses, a series of clicks slipping through black, jagged teeth and a weeping mouth.

A second step and death follows you.

Flesh burns. It singes your nose, something like spoiled flesh and rotten eggs. You can taste the sulfur as the creature wilts to the floor, body still twitching after decapitation. You bend over, snatching up the poorly made sword. It’s sharp enough, but the handle is crude and the blade is splotchy, mixed with many metals.

It hums in your hand, a pulse of power crawling through your palm and fingers like an electric current. You recognize the feel of adamas, a metal only found in Heaven realms deep in cloud-ringed mountains. For a moment your mind drifts, suspended between memory and imagination. You can almost see it: tangerine pink skies, the smell of orange blossoms, wind that is neither cold nor warm.

A creature lunges at you and the dream melts away. You duck under the blow, striking out with the dagger. It plunges to the hilt, a wet crack sounding as you puncture its ribcage. It screams and spittle flies. It doesn’t react to the knife, clawing toward you and opening a split maw of blood and black.

Cringing backward, you push with the dagger, shoving the creature away to provide space for the swing of your sword. The head severs, hitting the ground with a thud before rolling away. The body jerks, remaining vertical for a moment. Ripping your knife out, you send the lifeless body to the ground where it remains dead.

Interesting.

Another creature replaces the felled one, no weapon in hand but claws raking out at you. You shuffle backward, ducking away from the swiping talons. The creature flaps its wings once – the only one with functional wings, it seems – and surges forward, catching you off guard.

It knocks into you with the weight of a brick wall. The air leaves your lungs and you go down with the creature, it’s talons catching the flesh on your right bicep. You scream at the burn and fuck it burns. You look at where your skin burns black and wilted in three, jagged lines.

A blue-sparked flame catches your attention on the creature’s hands as it gnashes at you. You grab it around the throat, keeping razor teeth away from your face as drool and something else drips on your face. Your eyes zero in on the flame that comes and goes like it can’t control the heat on the tips of its fingers.

Hellfire, you realize.

Your mind expands, a searching radar for Jungkook. You sense him immediately, his mind like mist and rain tinged with hatred. His emotions are in turmoil, a churning storm of icy rain that bites into your thoughts and razor-sharp wind. There is a sense of no control, Jungkook’s churning storm ripping through his energies with something like feral-laced panic on the edges.

Jungkook, you call to him, feeding him your emotions as you shove back at the gnashing teeth of the creature pinning you down. He ignores you, his storm too volatile to sense you. You push harder, imagining that you’re brushing cool water down the bridge of your connection.

Jungkook flinches when he feels you. The storm pauses, like passing into the eye as the chaos settles around him. You use the opportunity to speak again. They can use Hellfire.

It takes a moment for him to respond. Understood.

Pulling away from the connection, you keep your minds tethered. The crackling energy and harsh storm stirs again when you pull from his mind, but it’s not as out of control as before, the thread between you an anchor as he refocuses on his own task.

Lightning crackles under your fingers as you shove with your hand, putting all your force into where you push back on the monster above you. The creature topples backward as you roll to your feet, movement fluid. Your dress is ripping near the throat, threatening to tear. You curse, begging the fabric to stay on a little longer.

You have no intention of fighting while spilling out of your dress.

Electricity charges in the room. Unchoked, you feel the thunder of your power looming on the horizon. Every time you call the lightning to you feels like a rush of adrenaline, the sparks dancing along every nerve of your body, lighting you up from the inside out.

This is your power. There is a moment where you consider letting it all go. You could supernova right where you stand, destroying everything within several miles. You know you have the capability – it's something you’ve dreamed of doing for years.

But it’s just a dream, and your dreams do not align with your goal.

Reigning in the urge to destroy destroy destroy, you instead focus the lightning on the creatures closest to you. The bolts let out a loud crack as you direct the energy to your targets. There is a flash and the smell of burnt skin and corpse, but you ignore it, pushing toward a forming group in the corner of the ballroom.

There is a concentration of fighting Vaesen, screaming and creatures near where you remember seeing Jungkook’s niece last. A body topples in front of you, and you step over it- later you will remember that it was a collared Vanir, naked and still tied to a chair on its leash.

You see Jihoon– he's covered in something black and slick, kicking out at one of the creatures. He has a single dagger in his hand, a retinue of guards dead at his feet, and you can hear the high-pitched scream of his daughter behind him. A single step in their direction is blocked by more creatures, hissing and clicking at you.

Jungkook appears at your side, covered in gore. His hands are black to the wrist, dripping in... something. You realize he’s fighting without a weapon.

“Are you ripping through them?”

“I gave you my knife,” he snaps. His mind brushes against yours, a torrent of chaos and loud noises and anger so hot you waver. You toss the dagger to him, spinning your new sword in your hand. “I think beheading them is the only thing that works.”

“Yeah, I discovered that thanks.”

A vampire gets turned to mist and splatter in front of you. You feel the hot blood hit your face. It smells metallic and like Synth from his last meal.

“Can you-”

You see it in his mind. The lightning that you can summon to destroy worlds. You nod once, summing the crackling energy inside of you.

A high-pitched scream interrupts you. Your eyes zero in on Kita, hiding under a table as her mother pulls the girl tight against her chest, baring her teeth. There's a red aura around her as she snaps her teeth at one of the creatures, a red arch of fire snapping out.

Fox fire.

Kita tries to imitate her mother, crying through barred teeth and a tiny flicker of flame humming around her. There are creatures closing in and you feel the snap of your power, targeting the creatures in a large area.

Power ripples in the room. You feel the urge to kill kill kill again. To destroy. To light the entire room up and burn it all down. You’ve done it before. You know the taste and smell of annihilation. You know the feeling of death brushing past you as he collects his dead.

The crack of a whip. A scream of agony. Blood in your mouth your hands your ears your neck, your arms-

You push away the desire to rebel. It burns bright, a hot coal ready to catch fire but you smother it. Pretend it isn’t there.

Rising up at the wrong time does nothing. Freeing yourself a long game. Giving in to your rage means failure, and you have failed and failed and failed and failed and -

The room flashes bright. Colors dance behind your eyes as you let go of the power. For a moment, everything is silent. The world is warped, the sulfur air charged with electricity. You feel the static tickle the nap of your neck, your arms, your mind.

You look around. There are no more creatures standing, black wisps of smoke curling toward a scorched ceiling. Dust motes float down. You stick out a hand, finger pointed as one lands on your finger. You realize it’s soot, the leftovers from the creatures you’ve thoroughly crisped.

Around the room, life – or what’s left of it – begins to stir. Glass crunches beneath feet and the sound of tables being righted sounds booming in the silence of destruction.

Jungkook and Ji-Hoon are on their knees, ducked under the table as they coax Kita and her mother from their hiding spot.

You assess the damage, eyes scanning the room and catching on golden collars. Diamonds resting on the hollow of still throats. Snapped gossamer wings under a broken body. A platinum leash tangled in a chair, its nymph counterpart missing her lower half.

There are more Vanir than Vaesen among the dead. Caught up in leashes and collars. Stuck in a brass birdcage. Shackled to a table. Your stomach turns but you don’t focus on the faces. Committing them to memory makes them mean something and nothing means anything to you.

“Reaper.” Jungkook’s voices radiates the space between you and the space unseen, echoing in your mind. You turn to look at him. He has a firm grip on Kita, the child pressed to his side as Ji-Hoon argues with his wife silently. “We are escorting them out.”

“We’re with you.” The oily voice makes you stiffen. You don’t have to turn to see Taehyung among the aftermath. You do see the kitsune lingering off to the side, his dark eyes flickering from the ashes to you. “Both of us.”

Jungkook bows his head. “They were concentrated around Ji-Hoon and none of his men remain. It’s safe to assume he’s a target. Reaper and Yoongi with Kita and Daiyu. Taehyung with us.”

Taehyung moves past you, no longer interested in teasing you. Jungkook presses close to his brother and you press Kita and Daiyu between you and Yoongi. The huli jing looks at you skeptically, holding her daughter’s hand fiercely. You don’t give it much thought, following Jungkook’s lead as he leads your group through a service entrance.

It smells like sulfur and rot. Damp air clings to your skin, forming a sticky second layer. You grimace. The clack of dress shoes is loud against the tile floors. The hall is too narrow for you to walk in groups, meant for only a few Vanir to come and go at a time. You move quickly in single file line, Yoongi at the front with Kita and Daiyu between you.

Jungkook’s mind waivers on the edge of yours. You can feel that he’s aware of you, as though he is turning over his should to see if you’re still there. You can’t see him from the back of the line, but he doesn’t severe the connection.

Probably don’t know how.

Servant corridors are long and complicated. When Jungkook approaches a split, he takes one hall over another confidently. You peek into his mind, seeing the flash of blueprints and memory of a layout on a screen.

You know the layout of the servant halls, you observe. Down your connection, you sense him flinching. You knew you would be attacked?

No. His voice is curt. His mind is a dark storm, words cutting through hissing rain. But we are always prepared. It’s not often that someone tries to assassinate us, but...

But what?

Focus on your task.

Your lips twitch and you feel him draw away from you a bit. But what? You wonder. He was hiding something and that just wouldn’t do. Cutting into his mind would be as easy as clipping the wings of a butterfly. But you leave Jungkook alone for now, following the dark hall, Taehyung and Jihoon’s hushed voices drifting toward you.

A small door in the hall, nearly invisible leads to a tunnel. You can still see flitting images and thoughts across Jungkook’s memory. He has no control to his thoughts, no way to block you out. He is unaware of the danger you present to his mind, laid open for the taking.

And yet you don’t.

The ground slopes beneath your feet. Your press your fingers on the wall, casting your senses. There’s damp, empty air on the other side of the wall and you can hear the hush of slow floating water. Above you, the ceiling vibrates. You’re in a tunnel in the sewers.

Your eyes drift to Jungkook. He was trained in escape routes in the building. And seemed to be one of the few Vaesen armed at the party.

Unarmed Vaesen. The thought leads you somewhere between pleasure and contempt. Only the creatures of the Underworlds could be so arrogant as to think they have nothing to fear. In a way, they don’t. Demons and their kind are the apex predators, the top of the food chain.

But even among themselves, enemies lurk.

The sheer stupidity is comforting – the knowledge that it comes at the expense of how little of a threat Vanir pose, is not.

A cool awareness brushes against the nape of your neck. You pause, the echoes of shoes and Kita sniffing silently ahead reverberating off the walls. Your instinct flickers and you turn your head a fraction, angling your ear toward the way you came.

Silence stretches and stretches. You frown, stretching out the net of your mind. It’s a strange feeling, opening that barrier and sense of other. It’s not a psychic ability as much as it is sensing energy, magic, and existence, something many Vanier and Vaesen alike can do.

At first, there is nothing but empty space. Ahead of you, your group pushes on. They don’t notice that you’ve stopped entirely, head cocked and tense.

Then you hear it – or at least perceive it. A soft hiss, the smell of death.

They’re here, you hiss down the tether between you and Jungkook. You feel his surprise and then his anger as you turn to face the back of the tunnel. Keep going and let me know when you’re out of the tunnel. If I light up in here, you’re going down too.

Good to know you care.

You scoff. I still have use for you, Dominus.

Something like irritation and resentment slithers down the connection from Jungkook. It makes you smirk, pleased at offering opposition. It’s been a long time since you could openly oppose someone the way you now can. It’s a risk, but it’s a calculated one.

Sometimes you must let the monster in to give it a sense of comfort. You remember the lesson. You think about the Vaesen who so easily move about the world without weapons.

Yes, letting Jungkook see parts of you is necessary. Dangerous, but ultimately worth it.

Shuffling, stilted movements echo toward you. Sliding your feet apart and bent slightly at the knee, you wait in a defensive stance. You leave the connection to Jungkook open. As you wait for the creatures to reach you, you periodically drift to observe Jungkook and the others. They’re making quick work rushing through a network of tunnels, moving faster now that there is a threat.

Lightning will do you no good in an enclosed space. While you won’t kill yourself, the walls of the tunnel are reinforced with metal rods and bracketing, a perfect conduit for electricity. With the running water crisscrossing in the sewer system just behind, you’re positive you’ll light up half of the underground network if you try it.

So you wait. Sword in your hand. Poised.

The first creature slides into your line of sight. The corridor is dark and without light, the shapes of the bent wings in a small space almost comical. They cannot move more than one at a time, a single file line of twisted limbs and rotten smell.

It sees you and pauses. There are soft clicks, the sounds bouncing back and forth. You frown, watching as they all stop moving, the clicks drifting between them at different intervals and cadences like… a language.

They’re speaking.

Whatever they are, they have some sort of intelligence. The humanoid shapes are all wrong, but you can vaguely sense something thrumming inside of them that is both like you and not. Your stomach flips at the implication that you can sense the creatures the way you sense Jungkook stopped at a fork in the tunnels, unsure of which way to go.

The clicking stops. You turn your attention away from Jungkook, narrowing that feed of awareness tied to him to the barest thread. For a moment, you and the first creature stare at one another. The next moment, it’s charging forward faster than you expect.

You duck as the creature slams into you. The breath leaves your lungs, feeling as though you’d been hit with the force of a thick wall, but you push up with your back as the creature topples over you, sending it sprawling. Your sword hand is fast, flicking in an arch to sever the head as the creature stumbles to regain balance.

The narrow space immediately becomes a problem. The next creature is on you, teeth snapping hungrily as you back up, stepping and slipping slightly on the ichor leaking from the dead body beneath your feet. There’s no room to swing your sword, so you’re forced to twitch the blade back and forth, parrying sharp stabs from your assailant.

Just like the creatures in the ballroom, these are uncoordinated. Their stabs aren’t fast enough, joints cracking and twisting awkwardly in lurching motions as they attack. Cutting through them is difficult in the lack of space. They press in on you, making you track backward to give yourself more room to fight. It’s not ideal – you’re leading them toward where Jungkook and the others have started moving again.

“Fuck,” you snarl, tasting foul ichor on your tongue as it sprays you from a sharp wound on the neck of one of them. It bellows and claws forward.

Summoning air in the tunnel you thrust a hand out, punching toward them with wind. It rips through the halls, whistling as the air rushes past you in violent torrents. It slams into creatures, propelling them backward.

While they’re crumpled and disorganized in a pile, you take ground back, advancing on them. They clamor over one another, shrieking and twitching their wings as they regain a sense of control. You summon wind again, ready to send another blast when a raw scream rips down your mental tether with Jungkook.

It’s violent and invasive, prying open your connection and funneling unfiltered pain and wrath into your own mind. Your vision goes white for a second as the emotional tidal wave of Jungkook overwhelms you, unexpected and uncontrolled.

A spark of blue is the only warning you get from one of the hellish creatures. You barely react in time, summoning wind again at a greater force. It screams toward you, quick enough to meet the blue flame of Hellfire as it fills the hallway.

Heat scorches against air. You scream in alarm. For a moment, you think your makeshift airwall won’t be enough to keep you from being turned to soot.

It holds, a steady wind current coming down the tunnel. Dust, dirt, and mice get picked up in your vacuum, spinning and slamming into the solid, opaque wall of air. You keep your energy focused on the wind as much as you can, Jungkook’s mental screaming almost too much of a distraction as you try and close the mental door between the two of you.

But Jungkook is untrained and the son of Sariel. His connection to you is strong and whatever he’s experiencing on the other side of the tunnel system is a deeper well than you knew he was capable of.

Gritting your teeth, you dig down into your well of power. It’s always there, a bottomless pit of energy and ability to use your gifts. Some witches call it magic. Faeries call it glamour. Angels call it grace and there is a spark of it there, tiny and imperfect, but enough for you to sustain the wind and shut the door on Jungkook just enough.

Snippets rush by you. They’re at the mouth of an entrance somewhere – almost out of the tunnel system. But they’re fighting – you sense more creatures and… others. Demons. Jungkook’s rage is a storm, battering down on your connection to him and exploding out of him as he fights.

Get out of the tunnels, you demand. Jungkook I need you to at least get out of the tunnels.

There is no acknowledgment that he’s heard you. There’s only screaming wind, the song of his fury, and heat building up on the other side of your wall. You smell molten metal and realize the creatures are going to bring everything down.

Jungkook, you scream at him. There is nothing on the other side, just anger threatening to swallow him whole. Jungkook!

Nothing.

Gritting your teeth, you shift a few steps back. You take a deep breath, feeling the heat on the other side of your air wall, and you shove hard through your mental tether. You feel Jungkook’s awareness, fire and rain. He feels you now.

Get out the fucking tunnel or I will kill all of you. This is your last warning.

And it is. Jungkook is useful. Using him is easier than the alternative, and having to come up with an additional plan after killing him while trying to escape the city is far too complicated, and near the realm of impossibility.

Sweat begins to form on your hairline. You feel the slick on your legs and your palms, the air over-warm. It continues to get hotter and hotter, kicking up several notches. Azure swims on the other side of the air you feed into your protect. It flares, growing stronger off the oxygen you provide it, but you have no other choice.

Silver drips from the ceiling. You look up, spotting liquified metal oozing through the earth’s ceiling.

Go. Jungkook’s voice is nearly a whisper. You realize you’re screaming with the force of the power you’re feeding into your wind. His words are like a release, a flip switching as you dive headfirst into the electric current of your lightning.

It’s an explosion. Heat and electricity meet in a caustic battle, the walls and floor rumbling as your lightning pulses from you more like a wave than bolts. You hear the crack, feel it vibrate your ears, and then there is only loud ringing as you stumble backward.

Dust, ash, and metal fill the air. You’ve brought down half the tunnel and you’re splayed on your ass.

Rolling over on your stomach, you try and push yourself to your feet. You slide in dirt and darkness. It’s difficult to breathe, the air filled with static and heated enough that your skin feels like you’re on fire. You manage to find footing and retreat towards where Jungkook and the others have gone.

Nothing follows you.

The high-pitched ringing does not leave you. A bit dizzy, you follow the thread of Jungkook’s existence, feeling the thread between you pull you toward him. His rage has turned to agony, and you know someone is dead, though you cannot discern who.

When you finally reach the surface, you understand.

There are masked Vaesen littered around an empty warehouse. You’re close to the Celadon River, the taste of salt in the air as it filters in from the sea. You cannot hear beyond the scream of your damaged ears, but the wind here is cool, coming in through a giant hole in the ceiling, freshly singed.

Similar creatures that hunted you into the halls lay in pieces. Jungkook stands expressionless, ringed by bodies. It seems the fight was centered on him, death laying quietly at his feet. Yoongi and Taehyung stand a few feet away, expressionless. Watching.

A single shaft of moonlight shines on Jungkook through the broken ceiling. It paints half of his face silver, his eye rimmed silver. The rest of his face in shadow. It’s an eerie picture, half of him light and dark, split between two worlds. A child slithers down your spine as your eyes drift away from the thunder in his expression to his feet, where his eyes are fixed and you see the source of his unending agony.

Jihoon and his family are no more.

Namjoon is the only other person at the apartment. You eye him warily as he stands in the living room, arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches the holoscreen. Images of the party flash on the screen. There are videos from security cameras, starlets filming the chaos while at the party, and media drones outside of the building as the police force descended on the scene.

Reporters stand in the carnage. There are still broken bodies of Vanir, stepped over as the reporters lead their filming drones through the rooms. You can see Vanir tied to leashes on chairs. Again, you don’t look at their faces.

After appearing from the tunnel to find Jihoon and his family dead, you were ushered home immediately. You went without negotiation, casting a single look at Jungkook. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, his expression flitting between exquisite pain and nothingness.

Sensing your presence, Namjoon turns his head a fraction to look at you. His eyes harden and his jaw flexes, onyx eyes not leaving you for a second. You remember your perceived place with him, casting your eyes to the screen to ignore the way he burns holes through you with just a look.

“Go away,” he grunts. “Your presence is bothersome.”

“I’m sorry, dominus.” You make your voice light and airy. “Why has master not come home with me?”

Calling Jungkook master burns your tongue. You make yourself look small, tucking your chin to your chest and curving your shoulders inward, like you’re bracing to be hit. You play with the hem of your shirt, which is too big like the rest of your clothes.

Namjoon scoffs, not buying it. “Because he has to deal with this fucking mess.”

“I should be with master- “

“Drop the act. Whatever you are, it isn’t Carved. If Jungkook wants to keep you and do whatever he wants with you, that’s fine.” You glance up at him. He stares you dead in the eye. “But I don’t like you and I don’t trust you. Stay in your lane, I’ll stay in mine.”

Namjoon leaves the room, the holoscreen casting blue light on the empty space. You listen to him go. He goes to his own room at the far end of the apartment and shuts the door loudly.

“Dick,” you mutter, entering the living room proper to look up at the screen.

The sound is muted, only showing the chaos. “Elide, volume on.”

“State access name,” the apartment system responds, voice cool and clear. You recite your name. “Unregistered user.”

You snarl. “Elide, volume on.”

“State access name.”

“Jungkook.”

“Voice recognition failure.”

“Just turn the fucking volume on!”

The elevator door opens behind you. You whirl on your heel, teeth bared in frustration. Jungkook walks through the door, barely sparing you a glance as he says, “Stop yelling at the technology. I didn’t program you into the system.”

“I noticed.” He walks into the kitchen, tapping the corner of a cabinet. It unlocks and pops open, revealing shelves of liquor. He removes a bottle and taps the cabinet shut. “Didn’t think you needed it.”

“Well if you’d like me to get bored and burn the apartment down, that is an option.”

“Be my guest. I have others.”

“Humble.”

Dark rage hums under the surface. Jungkook moves around his kitchen slowly. He places a glass delicately on the counter, pulling the cork from the bottle before pouring himself amber liquid. You sniff. Whiskey of some sort.

Jungkook is silent, but his mind is a torrent of emotions. Blood pounds beneath the surface, a beast begging to escape. You can almost taste the chaos within him and yet… he keeps it there. Sipping his drink and leaning on the counter as he looks at the floor.

“Namjoon thinks I should kill you,” Jungkook mentions.

“Unsurprising.”

“Yoongi does too.”

You shrug. “The way of the fox is unknown to me.”

Jungkook’s mind is wide open. You reach for it while he sips his whiskey. He doesn’t register as you brush against his thoughts, trying to sort through them. His mental is in chaos, thoughts racing through his head and flashes of his brother being cut down. Of Kita’s screaming.

“Do you know what those things were?”

You picture the creatures at the party. Their staggered steps, their rotting breath. “Something made, not born.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means I’ve seen a lot of creatures for the hundreds of years that I have been alive, but I’ve never seen whatever those were. Those things are not natural.”

“Most of what is in this world isn’t natural.”

“They are not natural to any plane. I felt…” You trail off and shrug your shoulders.

Navigating his mind while it’s in chaos is hard. You’re looking for the thread of conversation from earlier that night, trying to understand what Jungkook had been talking about when he trailed off about being prepared for assassination attempts. But it’s convoluted and murky.

Jungkook glances up at you. His face is a mask. You must admit you’re impressed by the way he looks calm and collected with the storm raging inside of him, threatening to crack the façade at any moment. “Felt what?”

“You didn’t feel them? Like the way you feel me?”

“Are you telling me you’re one of- “

“No,” you cut him off. “Not in the sense of they are me. But you couldn’t feel them like… dots on a radar. Little signatures of something?” He shakes his head. You hum for a moment, letting the silence hang in the air before you say, “Your untrained mind nearly got me killed.”

A ripple of anger goes through him and his thoughts become more confusing. You sense him boiling under the surface, a steady tremor building and building and building.

A frenzy. Jungkook is nearing a frenzy. If you could get him to fall into it…. you examine him. Coming down from a frenzy would put him in a state of compliance and exhaustion, making his mind open to sift through like forgotten paperwork.

You decide to incense him.

“I mean it,” you snap when he doesn’t answer you. You square your shoulders and let your power drop into the room. “Your level of incompetence is worse than seraphim children. Total lack of discipline and an embarrassment to someone who was sired by Sariel.”

A flip switches.

Jungkook is pushing off the counter and moving toward you but you stand your ground, chin lifted, gaze cutting. His mask has slipped a fraction, lip curled. “What did you just say?”

“I said that your utter lack of control is insulting and beneath your station.”

“You are in no position to speak to me like that.”

You splay your hands. Jungkook heaves a few feet away from him. You see the wheels turning, sense his adrenaline shooting upward. You needle him further. “I think we both agreed that here, I’m in a position to do whatever I want.”

Jungkook is fast. He’s in front of you in moments, hand shooting out to grab you by the throat. You’re not surprised by the action as he slams you against a wall, sneering. But you are surprised by the giddy delight that shoots up your spine as his fingers close tightly around your base.

When he squeezes, it isn’t to cut off your air supply. You recognize the sign of dominance, the grip he has on a vulnerable part of you. It’s the most instinctual form of an alpha trying to regain the upper hand and you’re so delighted that you laugh.

“I own you,” Jungkook whispers. “Whether you want it, or whether I want to. I signed your papers. You are legally mine.”

You lift a leg and wrap it around Jungkook’s waist, tugging him toward you. He balks, hand going slack around your throat as your hips press against his. A wave of pleasure rolls through you but you focus on the way Jungkook stutters, pulling back from you.

“Yeah?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. “You have the upper hand, dominus?” His fingers tighten but he doesn’t respond. You roll your hips into his, feeling the confidence from a moment ago slip through his fingers like sand. “What happened? I thought you owned me?”

“You are walking a dangerous line.”

“You’re doing nothing about it.”

“What do you want from me?” he grits out, teeth clenched. He’s shaking, loss of control so near.

“You own me?” you goad. “Then fucking use me, Jungkook. You’re two seconds from a fucking demonic frenzy and you don’t even have the sense to fall into it.”

“I don’t do that.”

You lean forward. He leans away but you crowd his space, eyes searching. You notice a mole just below his flush mouth, something you’ve never seen before. It’s soft. Endearing. You ignore the observation as your mouth brushes close to his, sharing breath.

“You’re afraid of your demon,” you purr. He says nothing, breathing heavily as he watches you, pupils dilated. “Weak.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Then feed the demon, Jungkook.”

Jungkook hesitate. You watch him, his jaw working and his eyes staring at you. You see the moment he gives over control to the demon part of him, pupils turning into saucers as his hand grips your throat tight. He leans forward, pressing in on your space until you’re chest to chest and his mouth is at the shell of your ear.

“If you wanted me to fuck you, why didn’t you just ask?”

Your hands go to his biceps, digging your nails in. He hisses, fingers pressing into the sides of your neck to restrict your breathing. “I thought you owned me,” you taunt. “I’m allowed to ask?”

It’s the final push he needs.

A shift happens in Jungkook. Swiftly, he drops you and flips you, slamming you chest first into the wall. It knocks the wind from your lungs, making you gasp as he crushes himself against you, nosing your ear. His breath is hot, sending chills down your spine. You grin, knowing you’ve got him going in the right direction.

You press your ass backwards into him, feeling his semi-hard cock in his pants. In his state, it doesn’t even need to be you Jungkook is attracted to. His demon side is wild, hungry to do anything to destroy, to fuck, to kill.

Demon frenzies enhance lust and violence, like adding fuel to a fire. Jungkook’s flame is stoked, his agony over his family members and his frustration blinding him as he rips the back of your shirt open, your scares and flesh on display for him.

“You want to be fucked like I own you?” he asks, voice low. “Fine.”

It's nothing new, being fucked like you’re owned. But this is different – it feels different. When Jungkook’s hands brush up your spine, they’re not violent. They’re inquisitive. Callused. You shiver under his touch, eyes shutting as he pulls the fabric of the ruined shirt off you.

Your nipples are pressed to the wall, providing friction. You give into it, letting that blissful stimulation bloom inside of you as he nudges your head to the side with his nose.

“Spread your legs,” he demands. His voice is barely a whisper. You do. “Not so talkative now, are we?”

“Is my commentating part of fucking me like you own me, dominus?”

A loud rip splits the air. Jungkook tears through your sweats, warm hands seeking the flesh of your ass. He grips your cheeks firmly, massaging the flesh as he ruts against you slightly. You moan, surprisingly not for effect but at the way you feel.

Rare is the occasion in which someone made you feel good during sex. It isn’t what you’re after, but it’s a bonus, letting Jungkook slip his hand between your legs to brush his finger through your folds. You're not dripping for him, but you let out a breathy sound as pleasure unfurls low in your stomach when he does it.

Even out of control Jungkook shows restrain. Your fascinated, split between panting against the wall as Jungkook’s skill fingers circle your clenching hole, gathering your wetness to slip toward your clit, applying light pressure as he circles the bundle of nerves.

Jungkook dedicates time to getting you worked up. His breath is warm against your ear, low grunts shooting more arousal straight to your core. For the first time in years, you’re dripping for someone. You can feel the slick on Jungkook’s fingers, your pussy warm and swollen for him as he continues to play with you.

Taking control of Jungkook’s thoughts is far from your mind now. You're distracted, fists pressing into the wall as Jungkook slips a finger into your entrance. You gasp, the pad of his finger brushing against your front wall, massaging your g-spot.

“Fuck,” you swear, seeing stars.

It becomes clear Jungkook knows what he’s doing, fucking his finger into you. You can hear the wet-slap of his hand against your pussy, worked up for him now as his clothed cock presses into your ass cheek.

“Such a tight fucking pussy,” he mutters. He doesn't seem to be talking to you as much as himself. “Cock is never gonna fuckin’ fit in here. Hmm. Oh well.”

He pulls his finger from you. You let out an angry sound, eyes flying open to glare at him over your shoulder. He pops the finger in his mouth, momentarily dumbing you as you watch him suck the shine from his finger. He doesn’t look at you when he’s done, hand working to pop the button on his jeans and tug his cock out.

When you look down, you realize that Jungkook is right. He might not fit, and it sends a little thrill through you, watching the way his heavy cock bobs against his shirt, dabbing it with precum as Jungkook only pulls his pants down enough to fuck you.

You’ve spent years tirelessly bouncing on a variety of cock and diving between the legs of mistress after mistress. Sex is not a stranger to you. Sometimes you remember vaguely enjoying a thing or two. Sometimes even when you didn’t like it, your body at least orgasmed.

Being used is something familiar – but you’re not being used now. Even if Jungkook thinks you are. Even as he thumbs the precum from the dark tip of his cockhead to spread it down his thick shaft, Jungkook isn’t in control.

You remember that as Jungkook leisurely pumps himself before brushing the tip through your now sticky folds. You press your cheek against the wall, sighing as he teases you. It feels good. You reach out with your mind, brushing Jungkook’s sightly. His walls are down, vulnerable. Your sneer turns into a loud moan when Jungkook pushes into your pussy on the upstroke.

The stretch is painful, your stomach plummeting as Jungkook splits you open. The glide isn’t slow. His instincts take over and he immediately fucks into you hard and deep, slamming your hips into the wall with his full weight with every thrust.

Jungkook fucks the breath out of you. One hand presses your face into the wall, your cheekbones and jaw throbbing with the force of it. His other hand grabs your hips, holding you in position as he fucks himself into you hard.

Pain-laced pleasure shoots through you. The sounds that drip from your mouth isn’t for show. Your toes curl and your head swims at the way he takes control, fingers pressed into your flesh, cock pressing deep deep deep.

You lose yourself in the slap of flesh on flesh and curses. He spits insults at you, and you growl in response, biting one of his fingers that strays too close to your mouth. You taste blood, grinning as the salt and iron tinged with honey pulls on your tongue. He smacks your mouth, the stinging making you trill with high-pitched laughter.

“Crazy Carved bitch,” he slurs. “Is this what you fucking wanted? To be fucked like this?”

“Fuck me harder, Jungkook.”

He presses your skull harder into the wall. For a moment, you think it might crack under the pressure. But you don’t break, and Jungkook listens, driving into you at a pace that would break anyone else. Anything else. But it doesn’t break you and it feels good to know that it doesn’t. To feel the way your pussy flutters around him as he fucks you with abandon.

So many people have tried to break you. So many. Many have almost succeeded, and yet you prevail. You keep going. You survive. You move on. You wait. You win.

Your orgasm mounts. You feel it building inside of you like the same electricity that gathered in that small hall to destroy. It coils and coils and coils. You become short of breath, sucking in hair as you tremble under Jungkook’s weight. His mind is flayed open and raw for the taking but you wait. Not yet not yet not yet.

Jungkook picks up speed. You feel his pace get sloppy and the change in rhythm pushes you over the edge. You come around him with a scream, vision going white as you hold your breath. You feel your entire body seize up, thrashing under him. Jungkook presses you against the wall, trapping you and making you take it as he thrusts one – two – three more times before coming with a curse.

The pace slows. The sweaty tension between you begins to dissipate. You feel Jungkook pull himself out, cum immediately running down your legs. His energy is lower now and when you manage to catch your breath and look at him over your shoulder, he’s swaying on his feet, fucked out expression on his face. He’s flushed, tip of nose red.

Your legs are shaking and sticky. You take a step toward him feeling the slide of your thighs against one another, made slippery by cum. You hold out a hand and he stares at it, eyes wide, expression blank. He’s in the fall after a frenzy, somewhere dazed between thoughts in his head.

Tentatively, Jungkook takes your hand. You leave the torn clothes on the floor, you leave everything. Namjoon surely heard everything, but the Hellhound minds his business as you lead Jungkook to your room. The half demon, half angel is suddenly pliant for you. Soft at the edges. Mute.

You sit him on the bed and he stares at you. Unmoving. Unthinking.

Brushing your mind against his, you feel nothing but static. The buzz of his thoughts is unorganized and sleepy. You keep the connection open, stepping into the bathroom to wash the cum from your legs, the sweat from your back and the blood from your face. You had not even realized that he split your lip.

In your room, Jungkook doesn’t move. He is listless and calm, steady breathing letting you know that he hasn’t gone to sleep just yet, but that he’s not entirely present.

Slipping into clothes and back into the room, you stand in front of him, eyes flickering over his face. Jungkook looks at you but he’s not really there. A tiny part of you hesitates. Knows that to violate his mind has always been your greatest fear of yourself.

But life isn’t fair, and you have been a slave for hundreds of years. You have suffered and you will suffer again in the future. And though you see something in Jungkook that you recognize, you know that to spare him is to admit weakness.

Pain is inevitable. Pain is constant. Pain is power.

Jungkook knows nothing of these tenants. Knows nothing of the life his mother lived before him, her principles, her heritage.

Sympathy is something you cannot afford to give him. So you push into his mind, seizing his thoughts. He doesn’t put up a fight. He hardly knows what you’re doing as you begin sorting through what’s there.

Minds are unique to each person. Though some of your fallen companions had similarities in the way their memories and thoughts were laid out, everyone had something unique. Jungkook’s mind feels like a thunderstorm at night, soft with the threat of something more. Something melancholy plays there, a tune that is familiar, but you cannot place.

You sift through the night's events. You see things through his eyes. Feel the contempt for those around him. Feel the apathy for the Vanir leashed to chairs and in cages. Feel the unfettered spark of adoration when he sees Kita. Feel the love for his brother, though you had not sensed it upon meeting Jihoon.

And there is love there. Maybe not in the form that humans or texts perceive it. But you taste the sweetness of the affection, and you understand that there are positive emotions when Jungkook looks at his older brother, no matter how complicated.

You sift through to running through the tunnels. Jungkook feels glad that he prepared. They had been worried as of late – there were confirmed movements of the rebel group Libram in the city. Confirmations of assets destroyed and vanishing members of the local government.

This surprises you. You were not aware that the rebels were so familiar with the city yet. The thought of the free cities is so distant from you that it feels odd to conceptualize that there are members of their organization in Lythos.

You follow the thread of Jungkook’s conversation with you from earlier.

But we are always prepared. It’s not often that someone tries to assassinate us, but...

But Jungkook had known that there was a growing presence of Libram in the city. And Belial had tortured you repeatedly for information on Libram, looking for any connection to the rebellion. To Michael. To the last remaining seraphim across the worlds.

You take a sharp breath. Jungkook’s feelings regarding Libram were wary. Laced with uncertainty and fear. You follow those thoughts, flipping through his memories looking for more information. Four assassinations on government officials. The destruction of one of the Kim’s synth mines. Liquidation of accounts that belonged to Belial through unknown methods and hackers.

For as long as you had belonged to Faustus to fight, you had kept your head down. You focused on living. Small moves and counter moves. You had not been looking for any news of Libram or their existence in the city, and until now, you had thought there weren’t many in the city. Whispers of the potential but nothing like what you’re seeing in Jungkook’s thoughts.

Carefully, you extract your mind from his and sit on the bed. With him tired and swaying, you offer him a nudge to go to sleep. He lays backwards, dark lashes fluttering shut. You watch him for a while, thoughts ruminating on the new information.

Libram being in the city is a factor that you did not calculate. You chew on your lips as you think of your next move. One way to gather the information you need would be through your Vanir contacts. You have so few. But the best way to get good information is through your Vaesen contacts, which are even fewer.

You think about the twisted creatures that killed Jungkook’s family. They did seem like... angels and demons twisted together. Like the stitching together of things that didn’t belong. Half-demons, half-angels were rare to begin with. But it was like they were trying to make something else.

Belial’s question comes back to you about Lilins. The children of Lilith herself, born from her savage rape of the Heavens, but specifically, the archangels. Unique creatures, with the perfectbalance. Enough demon blood to hide the angelic blood, and enough angelic blood to hide the demon.

The flicker of familiarity you felt when fighting those creatures sends a sinking feeling to the pit of your stomach. You look at Jungkook, asleep. He looks gentle in his sleep, lines smoothed out on his face. Round and childlike.

In the morning, you’ll go back to pretending. But for now, you pull your knees to your chest, setting your chin on top of them as you consider the options before deciding that you need to follow the sick feeling that twists your gut.

Because if you’re suspicions are right... Libram made those creatures that killed Jungkook’s family tonight, targeting Belial and his children. It puts you in a dangerous position, but also a favorable one if Libram discovers your existence and grows curious about how useful you might be.

Yet none of it relieves you. Because if those creatures are what you think they are, there are seraphim in the world that are trying to bring Lilins back to the fight. Lilins, the creatures solely responsible for bringing the Heavens down.

D E F I N I T I O N S

Adamas - metal made from the Heavens, favorite in weapons used by angels and fae

Carved – angels who have had their wings surgically removed and sold for ownership. The possession of an angel’s wings gives the owner power over the angel’s grace, thereby giving them power over the angel.

Collared – a Vanir who is owned as a slave. They are often identifiable by the custom collars their masters put on their necks.

Dominus – term used by a slave to their male identifying master

Huli jing - Chinese fox spirit; similar to the Kitsune

Lilins - the offspring of the First Demon, Lilith, an the seraphim, most notably with the angels Uriel and Raphael. They are the perfect balance of Vanir and Vaesen and were used as spies during the war.

Seraph - a single angel, one of the seraphim

Seraphim - species of angels associated with Christian heaven, soldiers of God

Triumvirate – the three Lords who rule the Realms – figures of the Underworld

Vaesen – creatures associated with Underworld Realms such as demons, daevas, sorcerers, vampires, wraiths, and monster-like creatures

Vanir – creatures associated with Heaven Realms such as angels, faeries, witches, dragons, demigods and any heavenly-like being

I am no longer doing a tag list. After several attempts to get this tag list to work and Tumblr refusing to tag correct/process the post, I just took them off. I'm removing taglists for 2023 anyways because of how difficult tagging has become (incorrect usernames, Tumblr eating tags, copy and pasting not working).

/ PREVIOUS / NEXT CHAPTER

#fic: carved #haliiimede writes #bts fanfic #bts smut #bangtan boys #jeon jun #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook bts #jjk #demon!jungkook #dark romance #minors do not interact #minors dni #dead dove do not eat

610 notes · View notes