#so they end up barely a visage of what i want to be creating | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iovetecchou · 1 year

Text

Hunting Dogs Oral Scenarios; Giving

Includes... Jouno Saigiku, Tachihara Michizou, Tecchou Suehiro

Contains... smut! face sitting, premature ejaculation, teasing, begging, overstimulation, dry humping, implied public sex, praise, use of "good girl" masturbating (with panties)

AFAB Reader.

2,788 words.

Jouno Saigiku:

"Come now princess, don't be shy. I won't bite unless, of course, you want me to." Jouno quipped out. Smirking from where he was resting comfortably atop the plush duvet. You were straddling his hips, completely bare before him. You gazed at him with hesitancy swirling within your irises.

What if you ended up crushing him? What if the noises you let slip past your lips in the heat of the moment cause him grief? What if-

"Princess... stop overthinking it. Your turbulent emotions are truly giving me a headache. I'll be fine. Now, if you're not sitting on my face in the next thirty seconds, I will have no other choice but to punish you."

You took in a shaky breath before you climbed your way up his lithe frame. Positioning your thighs on either side of his smug visage. "Good girl, so obedient." He whispered. Hooking his forearms under your thighs, pulling your needy pussy down to his awaiting mouth. Your yelp morphed into a whine as Jouno began devouring you.

Your hands gripped the headboard harshly. Your knuckles turned white as you scored your bottom lip with your teeth. "F-Fuck... Jouno-!" You cried out. Jouno wasted no time lapping at your slit skillfully. His tongue explored your needy pussy at a leisurely pace. Lapping everywhere except for your clit. He wanted to hear you beg for it.

"Jouno- please... I need more!" A whine slipped past your lips as you ground your hips down further into Jouno's hot wet mouth. The blind king below you grunted against your slick cunt at your sudden actions. Enjoying how your whole being overwhelmed his senses in the best way possible.

Jouno began darting his playful tongue in and out of your pussy. Still not giving in to your pleas. At this point, you knew what he wanted to hear without him needing to say a single word. Your patience was wearing thin. You wanted nothing more than for your darling boyfriend to completely ravish you.

The second his tongue teasingly flicked over your clit with feather-light pressure, your resolve snapped. "Jouno- please, I want you to ruin me. Make a fucking mess of me, baby... I want to cum all over your face, so, please-!" You babbled out. Bringing your hands down to grip his two-toned locks in frustration. Jouno groaned at your words and sudden actions.

How could he deny you when you asked him so pathetically? Without any hesitation, Jouno brought his tongue back up to your clit. This time, he skilfully flicked your sensitive nub over... and over again. You said you wanted more? Well... ask, and you shall receive. Jouno was relentless, circling his tongue over your clit with the most delicious amount of pressure. Occasionally taking you off guard when he wrapped his lips around your puffy bud. Sucking on it fervently before he went back to lapping at your clit.

The skillful and teasing pattern Jouno created had you seeing stars. You couldn't control the way your hips began rocking back and forth. Your grip on your boyfriend's hair never let up as you now rode his face. Jouno couldn't help but moan against your needy cunt. Your taste, sounds, and ministrations were becoming too much for him.

Jouno's cock was throbbing beneath his slacks. He didn't even mind the sticky feeling in his boxers from his own precum. He was too intoxicated with you. His hips lifted off the bed as he dug his fingernails into your plush thighs. Groaning into your pussy as the slight friction of his boxers against the underside of his twitching cock left him drooling.

He was whining and slobbering all over your puffy clit, as you continued to ride his face. "Hah... Jouno, I'm getting close- please don't fucking stop!" You whimpered out. Tightening your grip on his hair as you clenched around nothing. Jouno's eyes rolled back behind his closed lids at your body's physical reactions to his actions. He wrapped his lips around your clit once more. Delivering a harsh suck to your twitching nub. Jouno let out a whine against your twitching bud in the process, and that was all it took for the coil within you to snap.

"F-Fuck, baby! M' cumming- don't stop... please don't fucking stop!" You grounded yourself against his face sporadically as you toppled over the edge. Cumming all over your boyfriend's tongue and face. Jouno let out a low groan against your sensitive pussy as his movements against your clit halted. You felt him stiffen below you as his nails dragged down the expanse of your thighs.

Your hips slowed down after a few moments more. "Shit, baby... that was amazing..." You sighed. Slowly rising off of your boyfriend's slick face on shaky thighs. Your hands untangled from his snowy red stained locks. Leaving his hair looking slightly disheveled. You took in his features as Jouno tried to catch his breath.

His lips were coated in your arousal as drool continued to seep past his pretty pink lips. Jouno's eyebrows were scrunched up in pleasure, and his cheeks were stained with... tears? "Jouno- were you-?"

"Not, another word." Jouno huffed out. Releasing his grip on your thighs, moving his hands up to your hips. Jouno carefully helped you off his face, placing you down against the plush duvet. You let your gaze wander further, and that's when you noticed...

Jouno had a very prominent wet spot against the front of his slacks. Did he... get so worked up from eating you out that he came... untouched? As if he could read your mind, Jouno spoke up.

"What? Don't flatter yourself too much, darling. The night has only just begun... and I think it's your turn to return the favor, hm?"

Tachihara Michizou:

"Michi, not here- we shouldn't!"

You whispered in a stern tone. Glancing over to your left and right side in the dark abandoned alleyway. Making sure no one could see the position your boyfriend had you in right now. Tachihara was kneeling before you. His lithe digits trailed up your thighs from beneath your skirt. He pulled your panties down in one swift tug, Pulling your legs out of your undies for better access before hooking one of your thighs over his shoulder.

"Don't care, I need you- like… right now." Tachihara quipped out. Smirking up at you before he lifted the hem of your skirt. "Hold this for me, will ya? I want you to be able to see my face as I make you feel real good, yeah?" Your face flushed at his bold words before you ultimately obliged. Gripping your own skirt with shaky hands before you let out a sigh.

"Michi… this is risky!" You pressed. Locking your eyes with your boyfriend's amber ones before he spoke up. "Yeah, but I know you like it… I saw the little mess you made in those pretty little panties of yours. Now, keep your eyes on me the whole time, yeah? Wanna see your beautiful face as you cum for me."

You clenched around nothing at his bold words. Nodding your head once in response. Tachihara didn't wait for a second longer to ravish you. His skillful tongue went straight for your clit. Tachihara pressed his tongue flat against your twitching nub. Delivering quick, harsh flicks to your clit in the process.

You couldn't help the whine that slipped past your lips. "Fuck- Michi! T-Too much!" You scored your bottom lip with your teeth. Trying to suppress your moans. He never did take his time with riling you up. Tachihara always lost himself in the taste of your arousal. His fast actions against your sensitive clit left you breathless almost instantly.

Tachihara couldn't help but smirk into your pussy at your cute attempt to stay quiet. It only encouraged him to ravage you further. He pushed himself further into your needy pussy. Flicking up against your puffy bud at an unrelenting pace. One of his hands came down to palm himself over his uniform. Groaning into your slick cunt in the process. "Ah, Michi… so good…" Your whines were music to his ears. His cock throbbed painfully against his slacks further at your cute sounds.

As Tachihara continued to ravish your pussy, you heard the sound of a belt jangling. Then the sound of a zipper coming undone. You let your gaze travel down your boyfriend's face and to his knelt frame. The sight alone left you breathless. Tachihara freed his aching cock from the confines of his pants and boxers.

You watched him as he reached out for your discarded panties. Clutching them in his grasp before bringing them up to his length. You clenched around nothing at the sight of your boyfriend as he began stroking his cock with your slick-coated panties. His groans against your drooling pussy as he pleasured himself had you seeing stars.

His tongue began to lose all sense of skill as his hand began to pick up in pace against his length. He was eating you out in such a sloppy and messy manner, and you fucking loved it. You moved one of your hands down to his disheveled tufts of hair. Gripping his amber locks fiercely. Your other hand still held up the hem of your skirt. "Fuck- Michi, m' gonna cum-!"

You whined out. Pulling Tachihara's face closer into your needy pussy with the grip you had on his hair. Your leg hooked around his shoulder began to twitch as you felt your release bubble up. All it took for your orgasm to wash over you was the sight of Tachihara cumming inside your panties. That was still wrapped around his twitching cock. The whine he let out against your clit as he came had your eyes rolling back into your skull.

"Shit- cumming… m' fucking cumming-!" You never broke eye contact as you came all over your boyfriend's face. Your legs quivered as your sweet boyfriend worked you through your high. Tachihara's sloppy tongue slowed down before he stopped entirely. Panting against your folds. His movements against his cock came to a halt as well before he pulled his lips away from your messy pussy.

He hastily tucked himself back into his slacks before he unhooked your thigh from his shoulder. Tachihara grasped your cum coated panties in both of his hands. Prompting you to step into the messy undergarments before dragging them up your twitching thighs. Snapping the waistband of your panties playfully as they now hugged your hips snugly.

You could feel your boyfriend's warm sticky cum pressing up against your spent pussy. It caused your face to flush a deeper shade of red. You watched as Tachihara slowly rose off his knees. He smiled down at you playfully before leaning into you. Placing a quick kiss on your lips, letting you get a taste of yourself.

"Fuck, babe… you're so sexy. You have no idea what you do to me… so, what do ya say we switch places now, yeah?"

Tecchou Suehiro:

"Ah, Hiro! Seriously, right now?!"

You were sparring with Tecchou in your shared apartment one moment, and the next thing you know, your boyfriend had you pinned to the floor. Hastily pulling down your shorts and panties. "I can't help myself. You look so beautiful right now." You smile softly at his honest confession. Bringing your hands down to sift through his chestnut locks.

"Need to taste you, baby… is that okay?" He whispered. Looking up at you past his pretty long lashes from where he lay beneath you. He slotted himself between your parted legs, resting his cheek on your bare thigh as he awaited your response. You gave his hair a playful tug before you spoke up.

"Yes, my love… I want this just as much as you do." Your words brought a deep blush to the tops of his cheeks. He offered you a toothy smile before he moved his face closer to your pussy which was now on full display for him. "I'll make you feel good, angel. I promise." His breath fanned against your slick folds as he spoke. Causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

Without another word uttered, Tecchou experimentally darted his tongue out. He delivered languid kitten licks against your puffy clit. Never once parting his gaze from yours. "Hnn… Hiro, so good…" You whimpered out. Grasping his hair even fiercer as your hips lifted off the hardwood floor. Pressing your needy pussy further into your boyfriend's awaiting mouth.

Tecchou felt his cock twitching against the cool floor. He couldn't control himself as his hips moved on their own accord. His hot tongue began exploring your folds. Pausing for a moment as his tongue circled around your entrance. Tecchou began flicking the tip of his muscle in and out of your slick cunt. "F-Fuck… so good, baby." You whined out. Smiling down at your blushy boyfriend as you continued to hump his face.

He felt entranced by you. Your movements, your taste, your gorgeous pleasure filled-expression. He synced up his thrusts against the hardwood floor with your thrusts against his lips. Tecchou whined into your pussy at the increased pleasure. He brought his hands up, interlocking his own with your free hand. His other hand snaked its way under your shirt. Cupping one of your breasts in the process.

He pushed his tongue further into your slick pussy. Swirling it around inside your hot wet walls fervently. Tecchou's eyes rolled back into his head as he felt you clench around his tongue. His cock throbbed painfully as the underside of his length drug along the cool hardwood floor from within the confines of his gym shorts.

"Hiro, more… please!" You babbled out. Pulling him into your pussy impossibly closer with the grip you had on his hair. He kneaded your breast playfully as his tongue slipped out your needy cunt. Tecchou rested his tongue flat against your pussy before he licked up the expanse of your folds. Slowly finding his way back to your clit before he wrapped his lips around your puffy bud.

He began sucking on your clit softly. Bringing his thumb and index finger together beneath your shirt to tweak one of your nipples. "S-Shit… baby, I'm getting close…" You squeezed Tecchou's hand, which was still interlocked with your own tightly. Picking up your thrusts against your boyfriend's face.

Tecchou wasted no time suckling on your clit at a fiercer pace. Making sure to flick his tongue over your puffy bud ever so often. You were seeing stars at this point. The combination of Tecchou playing with your tit and ravishing your cunt was overwhelming in the best way possible. Your interlocked hands were the only thing that kept you grounded.

"Hmn… Hiro, baby- feels so fucking good… don't stop- ah! I'm cumming-!" Your hips stilled against your boyfriend's face as he continued to suckle your clit. He was so lost in the moment. He didn't even realize that he was cumming in his shorts. You felt him whine against your clit as his ministrations against your spent pussy never let up.

"Hah… Suehiro, t-too much!" You cried out. Pulling his face away from your messy cunt by his hair. Before releasing his locks slowly. Your sudden actions finally snapped him out of his trance. He shook his head slightly before he climbed up your frame. Tecchou's thighs were now resting on either side of your ribcage. He snaked his hand out of your shirt, bringing it up to soothe your cheek.

"I'm sorry, angel… I got a bit carried away. Did it feel good?" He smiled down at you softly, awaiting your response. He gave your still-interlocked hands a gentle squeeze. You couldn't help the wide smile that painted over your features at your sweet boyfriend's concerns. You brought your newly freed hand up to cup his own cheek. Pulling him down into a passionate kiss.

Your shared embrace lasted a few moments longer. Before you pulled back for air. Panting against Tecchou's lips softly before you spoke up. "It felt more than good. It was amazing, baby." Tecchou smiled widely down at you before he shifted uncomfortably from where he resided atop you. Your gaze flickered down between your bodies, trying to pinpoint where his discomfort was coming from.

That's when you noticed the prominent stain… at the front of your boyfriend's shorts. Tecchou's face flushed deeper as he traced where your gaze was lingering. "Ah… I'm truly sorry, angel. I can't control myself around you. Everything you do excites me."

"Hmm… is that so, baby? Then why don't I return the favor? It's the least I can do for getting you so worked up after all…"

I definitely plan on doing a part 2 with the men on the receiving end! so, please have some patience with me! thank you so much for reading this far (:

special tag; @win-writes

2K notes · View notes

betbeton · 1 year

Text

𓆱 Survival of the Worst

Strade × Reader

Beast Y/N Series

Warnings - Blood, Violence, Cannibalism, Elk Y/N, Prey Becoming Predator Trope, Mildly Sexual Content (Described Male Arousal, Groping), Strade

18 + Minors DNI

Enby Y/N

✎ i will never write a cat y/n 🔪

Links are broken - other works are linked in BtD & TpoF Masterlist

It was wrong. The way blood and meat were forced down your throat. The metallic tang so inherently disgusting to your, once plant sated, stomach that bile rose up from your throat whenever he came down to feed you. The disgust running rampant in the very crevices of your psyche had a dry heave rocking your now ghostly body. You were a litch in all, but name. An elk that was sustained on the flesh of the people they were forced to gore with their beloved horns... It was wrong. You didn't like this, it all made you want to curl up and die... Or worse it made you want to become the predator.

Your life wasn't always these several concrete walls, stained with blood and other bodily fluids. It wasn't always the Red Room you were forced to participate it. You had been content and happy once, a bloom amongst the muck and grime of the world. A soft hearted person who went out of their way to help others... Now though? You were barely a wisp of the person you once were, there wasn't any of the proper you left. It had all been taken, perverted, into a sick caricature of the elk that stood proud with their chest puffed out. You were prey, a glorified toy who once they lost their shiny charm would be sent to the chopping block like every other poor unfortunate soul to be dragged down those stairs.

Once you were dead, then what would you be? Freedom was an illusion even when off the physical spectrum. Certainly you would be a tortured spirit left to roam the lands wailing for retribution... Screaming for revenge. Was that your future to be the wailing elk ghoul who haunted an upper class neighborhood? To be the poor lost soul talked about at campfires to frighten children... To be that monster's next meal?

It was WRONG. You were a person, sure you had large antler and floppy elk ears, but you were more human than he ever would be. The beast that stalks the streets at night, a greased monster who's perverted gore slut mind ruled his world... And by proxy your life. Even that damned fox, skittish and demur wanting more to be a human and shed his animal visage was slowly becoming a power hungry monster - you could see it in his eyes. Both of them disgusted you. This new bastardized version of yourself disgusted you.

The world disgusted you.

Every last person in it was horrible, selfish, worthless. You didn't truly believe that... not yet. Not with a man screaming and crying for his god to save him while staring directly into your eyes. No, some people had worth just not those two creatures. They deserved one another. Strade and Ren. Ren hadn't harmed you yet, but you could see the predatory glint in his eyes each time you were brought up those gods damned stairs. He wanted to rip your throat out with his teeth and consume you whole. Just. Like. Strade.

The beast that you so tried to ignore began gnawing away at your very sanity when a large blood soaked hand clasped around one of your antler tips. Your head jerked forward and a sickeningly sweet pat pressed to your shoulders before you were urged forward slowly. The tear of flesh and muscle almost deafening as the man prayed to a higher power for salvation and rescue. Gods didn't exist, surely if they did they wouldn't have created Strade... Then again many gods are described as cynical and cruel... It doesn't matter in the end though. Everyone ends up stuffed down your throat after they're dead.

The hands on your back urging you forward moved in tandem as a sweaty, warm, body pressed to your bare back. Blunt fingernails digging into your skin hard enough that blood welled and dribbled down grease and gore slicked hands. Body stilling on its own you could feel your own tepid fear clawing away at the back of your throat, that little voice telling you to rear your head back and stab Strade, but you couldn't. There were too many what ifs, you could miss or worse he could enjoy it and you end up strangled to death all while a greased rat bastard of a man ruts away in your hole seeking release.

You didn't have time to spiral into a hole of what ifs or disassociate as your head was ripped back, the antlers you so adored goring the poor sod man further as his intestines threatened to spill out of his body. It always amazed you how much abuse person could take before they died. At one point this curiosity had been just a mild morbid interest... Now though as your chest and genitalia were groped while Strade watched the man writhe and scream in pain you wondered how much more you could take. Surely you were nearing your limit... Right? Yes that had to be it. You had to be near death yourself to find the way the poor man's organs strained against his slashed gut as they tried to spill out fascinating.

The man finally passed out - or died - from blood loss mere moments before his lower intestine finally spilled out of the quickly widening cuts on his stomach. The disgusting hard arousal pressed into your back as you were fondled like some type of toy had bile rising up in your throat. Hands clenching and releasing as you tried to will away to homicidal thoughts and disgust plaguing your tormented mind. It didn't work. The thoughts only grew as your body twitched violently enough to dislodge Strade's hold on your slightly... That was the only opportunity you needed as you reared your head back and stabbed your antlers into his shoulders. The angle of your neck was painful, but that only fueled the adrenaline and the monster in your mind more.

Turning quickly as Strade stabbed his pocket knife into the side of your arm you dislodged your antlers and stumbled backwards falling onto your butt as you stared at the greasy bastard of a man. He had an irate expression as he held a hand to his throat, a horribly familiar gargling noise leaving his mouth as he wheezed in a breath... You had hit something extremely important in your blind attack. It took several long seconds before his eyes dulled and his body slumped, but finally you were free. Though your ears flattened to the sides of your head as soft clawed footsteps descended the stairs.

#btd x reader #btd strade

102 notes · View notes

alexanderlightweight · 1 year

Note

I was listening to The Thrill of First Love from the Falsettos and there’s just like these lines “What I love I devour” And “What I covet I keep” and that’s like so Magnus and Alec

i love these quotes so much, i did try to listen to the song but i ended up just reading the lyrics because the song was a bit too upbeat for what i wanted from these lyrics because oma;sdjfakbhsbdf SO FREAKING GOOD. so thank you so so much because i would never have known about them and it's just. perfect!!! I hope you like this!

Magnus first sees the man he’s going to keep not in battle, but in a shadowworld night market.

He’s tall and broad but he keeps to the shadows, considering but not threatening and with an aura that promises he’s not to be messed with. Everyone gives him a wide berth and when the vampires start to arrive, they sway towards him for a moment before their eyes widen and they hide their fangs and flee.

He’s a nephilim.

Magnus can tell by the siren song the vampires almost fall to, before being run off by sheer instincts of the danger he exudes. And despite, the high collar of his shirt, Magnus can see just the slightest hint of a dark mark, elegantly coiling up his neck.

“I want him.” Magnus says aloud, barely realizing what he’s speaking until Cat gives a sigh and drops her head to his shoulder in exasperation.

“You haven’t even spoken to him, you’ve just been watching him for the last twenty minutes.”

“He’s very watchable.” Magnus says, licking his lips, “easy on the eyes.”

Cat sighs but shoos him along, going back to her perusal of plants for the potions she needs to make. Magnus has his own shopping list, but it’s more of an excuse to go out than an actual need.

So the list disappears and Magnus sashays across the spot to where the hunter stands alone and smirks.

“The point of the nightmarket is to explore.” Magnus lets himself step too close, into the other’s space and bares his teeth in a hungry grin. “You’re doing yourself no favors hiding yourself away, missing out on all the fun.”

Whatever stoic retort and dismissal the shadowhunter has no doubt prepared never makes it past his lips. He’s been aware of Magnus’ presence and not ignoring him, but not giving him the attention Magnus so rightly deserves and covets. However when his eyes finally caress Magnus’ visage, his solemn features soften and pink edges up, barely visible in the low light and Magnus aches to see more.

“I—” And Magnus’ prey pauses, stuttering in a clearly uncharacteristic way, “what?”

“Allow me.” Magnus says but he really means, ‘this is happening’, and he grabs the others hand, magic ready to protect himself as he tugs his shadowhunter out of the darkness and into the soft glow of magic and moon and starlight. “Now then, you need a proper introduction to how delightful tonight can be. Won’t you come with me?” And Magnus has no glamours here and his shadowhunter nearly trips, when he gets his first look at Magnus’ eyes.

It’s a sweet thing, not one of disgust. He looks completely overwhelmed but his grip is firm and tight on Magnus’ own, greedy without being painful.

“Now come along—” And Magnus pauses with a wicked smirk, “should I simple call you darling, or do you have a name, sweetheart?”

There’s a little whine like his boy has no idea how to respond with Magnus’ pure dangerous and soft little caresses of verbal affection.

“Alec,” he’s told and then there is a blush and Alec is looking anywhere but Magnus, “or whatever you want.”

“Alexander.” Magnus croons, because he’s never met a line he wasn’t willing to cross when given an opening — or creating his own — and he sways close and lifts Alexander’s hand to brush a kiss to a knuckle. “Now darling, let me show you a different world.”

—

Magnus can’t stop thinking about Alexander and the avarice to have him and keep him is growing faster than Magnus can handle it. So it’s — with absolutely no impatience at all — that only a day after they meet, Magnus’ fire messages him.

Alexander responds quickly, eagerly even. With a hurriedly scrawled message and time of availability and a hastily scribbled last name that has Magnus’ blinking slowly in recognition.

A Lightwood.

Magnus’ pretty boy is a Lightwood, which means that Magnus is going to have to play hard and fast to keep his boy the way he wants. Before the elder Lightwood’s get wind and involved.

So Magnus plots, because when he covets something, he keeps it.

For better or for worse.

—

It’s dusk when they meet again and Magnus admires the dying glow of sol as Alexander leans against a wall and tilts his face into the fading warmth. If he wants to be warm, Magnus is more than willing to offer himself up for the task. Instead, he steps close and reaches out with the same proprietary motions he did the first time they met.

Alexander reaches for him eagerly in return, his face smoothing from a scowl and lips softening with a smile. His eyes are more brown than green in the shadows and they’re shining with delight, and all because and for Magnus.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Magnus teases as he presses Alexander against the bricks and cups his jaw with the hand not holding Alec’s own. “Almost like you were waiting for me.”

“I was.” Alexander says, like he’s not a full hour earlier than planned, but Magnus is also early so they simply both smile at each other, delighted in the mere presence of sharing space together.

“I know this delightful little sushi place,” Magnus says and opens a portal. “Fancy a trip to Japan, darling?” And Alexander tightens his grip and follows Magnus with a soft smile and Magnus knows right then, right there, that he is going to devour Alexander, just to ensure he keeps him.

—

Magnus feels his wards on Alexander waver, like there is a danger trying to take him away from Magnus and Magnus crashes through the wards of the Institute to see Alexander fighting with a blonde shadowhunter who is standing in front of a vaguely familiar redhead.

Magnus doesn’t care about the alarms screaming as he shows up, he only cares about getting to Alexander who looks ready to break someone, or himself. And Magnus knows his boy, if Alec cares at all about the shadowhunter snarling at him, then he’ll choose to break himself.

And Magnus will not be having it.

“Lovely.” He says, voice dark and cold as shadows grow and flames trickle from his body to etch marks into the floor. “Are these pests bothering you?” He doesn’t bother even looking at the pair causing his boy distress, instead he gets to Alexander and cups his jaw, pulling his gaze to Magnus.

“Magnus.” He says, surprised and relieved and delighted and devastated all at once and Magnus is going to devour him. Keep him safe under Magnus’ own skin and tucked behind Magnus’ own heart. Because surely, being stabbed in his heart would be less than having Alexander hurt in front of him.

“Leave this mess to the undeserving whelps who created it.” Magnus chides, gently because Alexander doesn’t need more disappointment thrown at him, “I have a chateau in the Riviera with our names on it. If the clave and this place wishes for you back, they can grovel for it.”

Because Magnus knows they’ve been withholding power from Alec while forcing him to push himself harder and harder. It’s a carrot and stick and Alexander has never been rewarded with the carrot.

Alexander waits a full heartbeat, like there is really any choice he can make with Magnus’ hand on his face, Magnus’ adoration clear.

“Okay.” Alexander finally says and he smirks, “that sounds nice. Let’s go.” He steps closer to Magnus and lets a portal be summoned and as Magnus is guiding him through, the other shadowhunters held back by a circle of shadow and flame, he turns and smirks. “It’s your problem Jace, not mine. I’m not in your shadow, I’m in his.”

It's grim and dark and his eyes shine with so much anger and hurt that Magnus wants to pluck out the eyes of whoever forced such emotions in Alexander’s own. But the words are so sweet that as the portal consumes them, Magnus yanks Alec into a hungry, ravaging kiss as they disappear.

—

“Do you remember what I told you?” Magnus asks as he dances his fingers over Alexander’s sweaty and heaving chest. Alec looks at him petulantly, like he still can’t figure out how Magnus stays so composed when he’s breaking Alexander apart.

“You’ve told me so many things?” Alexander responds, not even being coy, just being honest. “Which one? I try to remember them all.”

“Oh my sweet, precious Alexander.” Magnus says and he presses a kiss to Alexander’s panting mouth. “That what I covet, I keep?”

Alexander nods, a pleased flush spreading across his cheeks and delight gleaming in his eyes because Magnus has made it very clear that he’s keeping Alec. “What else did I tell you?” Magnus keeps his voice low and calm and Alexander’s brow furrows for a minute and he answers automatically.

“What you love, you devour.” He recits it calmly, and then excited hope wars with terror in his gaze and he whispers, “Magnus?”

“I’m going to devour you, my darling Alexander.” Magnus promises and presses his lips to Alexander’s in a deep, ravenous kiss.

And for now, it’s as close as Magnus’ brittle heart will allow for a confession but Alexander seems to think it’s perfect as it is. If the way he sobs brokenly and adoringly into Magnus’ kiss and clings to him, pulling him close like he wants Magnus to consume him entirely.

#shadowhunters #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #my fics #my fanfics #my ficlets #shadowhunters au #immortal husbands

76 notes · View notes

u3-ha · 1 year

Text

Pocky Game 🍫✨

Happy Pocky Days 🍫✨ 11/11

I got ych comms from @/cindychooi_art (twt) last year for pocky days and a fic about my mc and how beel encounter pocky game for the first time written by Astharohe Atthran (fb) ♡⁠(⁠Ӧ⁠ｖ⁠Ӧ⁠｡⁠)

_________________________________________

Beelzebub x Haru

=====

It was by chance when Beelzebub heard about this popular game in the human world. The so-called 'Pocky Game', something has to do with the snack Haru brought along; he thought it was about who can eat the most within a specific time limit. So when he asked Haru about the truth of that game, he was pretty taken aback.

"Uh, like… seriously?"

"Seriously." Haru nods her head in confirmation. "It's a good way to lift the mood."

"How come? I thought such a thing only existed within romantic partners. Oh, I'm aware of human tendencies of having multiple partners or jumping from one another, but you know what I mean."

"Mm, I know. But like… we can also do it casually. Besides, it doesn't have to end with a kiss. Most of the time, a kiss doesn't happen unless the participants want it to happen."

"Oh… that's surprising." Beelzebub looks at her. "So… have you played before?"

"No. I was never interested."

But if it's you, I don't mind..

Of course, Haru doesn't voice it out.

"I see. Anyway, thanks for the insight. And the snack as well."

"Mm, you're welcome."

And they part ways just like that. Beelzebub didn't notice the slight hint of disappointment in Haru's eyes as he turned around and left too quickly. Pretty much, he missed a good chance to do something. Let's say, today is not his best day.

On the other hand, recalling what Haru just told him, he can't help but wonder how it feels. He wonders if asking Haru to play with him will wake up something in him. The stick itself is barely long enough to create a proper distance between him and the other person. Biting into it, making sure not to break that frail bridge, it won't take long before the little space becomes non-existence. Less than an inch away, it's not strange if he can feel Haru's breath brushing his face, to be aware of the detail of her visage he never knew of before.

Will he get nervous?

Will he try to endure and take as long as possible?

Or will he panic and make a fool of himself?

And what would Haru think if he really asked her to play around?

His mind jumps further, letting his imagination runs wild while thinking about the face Haru would make if a kiss indeed happened. He wonders if she would back out or persists. The point of that game isn't to win, but to see how long one can resist the temptation to do something to the other.

A kiss is within the equation, the taste of the other person's lips against his own; Haru's lips, he wants to know.

Beelzebub shakes his head hard and turns around, trying to sleep his wandering mind out.

#obey me mc #obey me beelzebub #beel x mc #obeymemc #obey me fic #pocky day

10 notes · View notes

reliquice · 2 years

Text

Closed Starter for Yoonbok ( @playdumbs ) - Kyro

— the swift end of the life he stalked for only a few moments were satisfying as it were saddening, he drops with the body trapped his his arms, dropping the knife he used to slit the other’s jugular. blood seeps onto the hand he used to hold the other close to his body, gazing as if it were a waterfall from a chocolate fountain. he was hungry, and not only did he need the blood the other possessed, he depended on the muscles and cartilage of the mortal’s limp body. his hands shift to close the other’s eyes respectfully, thanking them as they slowly pass onto the afterlife. it never got easier, with every kill added another sheet of grief onto his thin body. while he lived for many years, and the lives he had killed with bare hands still haunt him. if only he weren’t born the abomination he was, and if only he could live a normal life. it wasn’t possible. it wasn’t real. and he had to accept that.

— kyro begins to drag the lifeless body towards his room in his abandoned clinic, leaving trails of blood behind as he limps over to the white room he camps in most of the time. he quietly places the body onto the examining table, preparing himself for the meal as he eyes the blood trail he left behind. something was telling him he should clean it up, but he never did until he was finished with his meal. he ignored it, pulling the shirt of the male’s body, dirtying the clean scalpel from the sliver table beside him, making a laceration from the other’s stomach before ripping it apart with a crack. his visage moves downward, mouth opening before rows of razor sharp teeth pull from his mullers, clashing with flesh before he’s munching on bone and muscle, swallowing each organ he could find in desperation and aching hunger.

— teeth shred between bones and tendons, hands digging deep into the dead body as he continues to feast messily against the table. the table shakes as well as the body, pulling flesh with teeth before he stops. there’s a sound and he knows it wasn’t made by him. kyro stops, pulling away from his meal and retracting his teeth before slowly making his way to the door. - what kyro sees next is a surprise, eyes widening as the mortal comes into view. he doesn’t know if he should attack or hear them out but with the other stealing samples from the trail he had recently created there was something very off. a normal mortal would scream in utter fear, run before he even got a glimpse of them. but this one stayed put, not phased in the slightest.

“ who are you, what are you doing, and why are you hear? why are you following me? “

— he softly hisses this reply, the sleeve of his shirt quickly swiping at his rim, wiping away the viscera that lay upon his chin. kyro doesn’t want to admit it but he’s slightly intimidated, the nagarja has never seen a male so quiet a sly before, especially one who could follow him for so long and his hearing not able to pick it up. somethings wrong here, and the vampire needed to find out what it was quickly before he regrets his decision to speak out. “ speak, mortal. before i take your head off with my jaws. “

#∿ No One Can Save Us' We Can Only Save Ourselves ┊ Kyro #∿ When We Help One Another' Everybody Wins ┊ Closed Starter #kyro x yoonbok #playdumbs #tw cannibalism #tw gore #tw death #tw blood #∿ Out Of Capsules (OOC) ┊#' i finally finished it! i hope it's okay! let me know if i messed anything up or need to tweak some things! much love! i hope you enjoy! '#' im so happy to finally get these two going <3 '#∿ Even When I'm Gone' I'm Still Here With You ┊ Queues & Queued

1 note · View note

displacer-beasts · 1 year

Text

I should write my OC+Submas fics ideas but they're all so niche and convoluted.

Like, my new Dracthyr OC, Kashir, from Warcraft gets eebi deebied to the Pokemon world after being attacked by an Ultra Beast and falling through an Ultra Wormhole.

In trying to find a way back to Azeroth he finds himself drawn to Ingo, who has lingering time energy after his time in Hisui, and thinks he is the key to getting home. But the Ultra Beast also wants to return home and keeps showing up to attack Kashir. There's some initial miscommunication where the Ultra Beast attacks are attributed to Kashir and he is hunted by trainers who assume he's some rare new legendary and want to capture him.

He doesn't end up going home but he does end up saving Emmet and befriending the Subway boys. Elesa teaches him how to use make-up to hide the barely visible scales on his Human visage form.

---

There's also my failed hero AU with Rei-as-shiny-Giratina. In his timeline there was no Ingo in Hisui. So he was the first skyfaller to appear and was treated with even more mistrust. Lady Sneaseler had no warden, so when she got frenzied there was no way to cure her and Rei ended up killing her while he was frantically trying to survive. Although Irida understood he had no choice, the Pearl Clan was furious at the loss of their noble and relations with the clans became extremely strained (even the Diamond Clan horrified).

When the sky turned red and Rei was banished, neither the Pearl Clan nor Diamond Clan leaders came to help (Adaman didn't want to risk the Galaxy Team + Pearl Clan allying). Volo still showed up to help Rei, but without any of the Clan leaders to keep an eye on Kamado, Rei and Volo showed up too late to prevent half the security corps from dying against frenzied Dialga.

Unable to create the Red Chain, time and space break down even further. Rei ends up bitter and angry at the lack of help and direction, so when Volo shows up with his plan to gather the plates and confront Arceus, Rei decides to team up with him. In preparing for the fight, Rei befriends Giratina.

The fight with Arceus goes very poorly and Rei dies, his soul gets shredded to pieces, and Giratina tries to save him by bringing him to the Distortion World and patching up his soul with it's own essence. Rei becomes a human/Giratina hybrid and his Giratina form is shiny. He can't back to his original timeline but the Distortion World connects to multiple realities so he goes to another.

He ends up immortal and wandering the world. He accumulates a team of ghost types (who are drawn to him) and his favorite past time becomes challenging the Unova Battle Subway. He ends up befriending the Subway Bosses (who just know him as an odd, but excellent, battler). Then one day Ingo disappears and Rei makes the decision to help Emmet find his brother, no matter what. Even if it leads to him having to return to Hisui and help a different skyfaller be the hero he failed to be.

#fic ideas

0 notes

aerynwrites · 2 years

Text

Depths and Lies

Silco x Reader

A/N: idk what this is lol - the idea for this scenario popped into my head yesterday and I couldn’t get rid of it but also didn’t really want to create a whole back story to reader and Silco’s history…if y’all like this let me know and I may do a prequel to this going more into their relationship and falling out!!

Word count: 828

Warnings: graphic depictions of drowning, mentions of death and dying, murder, angst, very slight hurt/comfort at the end. There are no gender descriptors of the reader.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You always knew you would die in the undercity. You knew that the crime, the drugs, the filth of Zaun would claim you just as it had given you life. But you never expected it to be like this.

Stabbed, shot, lungs clogged with the air that shouldn’t be breathable anyways. That’s what you expected. Not the pressure building in your chest, throat and lungs burning as you suck in polluted water instead of air. Your death was coming at the hands of enforcers though, so at least that wasn’t a complete shock.

Your fingers claw at the arms of the man holding you beneath the surface. His face is distorted by the water, visage blurred as you thrash and cause even more disruption in the liquid. Your feet kick out uselessly, stirring up mud and making the water even murkier as you try to escape.

But he continues to torture you, letting you up just long enough to gasp for air. But all you can do is try to cough up the water gurgling in your chest before you’re forced back under.

Ironically your life doesn’t flash before your eyes like the stories said. His face does though, and his voice as he told you about his own experience with this torture.

“The story of opposites,” he had told you one night as you laid next to him, bare skin against his own. “There’s peace in water…like it’s holding you. Whispering in low tones to let it in…”

How wrong he was. Yet another thing he lied to you about. Another thing you find yourself hating him for as your life slips through your hands like sand through an hourglass.

It burns. Your lungs feel like they are going to explode. blood runs cold in your veins until you can’t feel your fingers or the way they fall limp around the enforcers arm. Your mouth tastes of metal and oil and everything…hurts.

It’s not peaceful. And the only thing holding you are two firm hands on your shoulders.

You actually start to welcome the darkness creeping in around you. Anything would be better than the agony gripping your chest. Your hands slip back into the water, all the fight seeping away from you as the last of the air, bubbles from your lungs and you’re forced to inhale. You can feel unconsciousness closing in around you and your eyes slip closed just as the enforcers hands leave you.

He must think you’re dead already. But…why is he pulling you back up? Why do you feel the rushing of water against your face as you break the surface? Two arms wrapped securely under your armpits as they drag you from the depths. You can’t understand a thing the person is screaming at you, and if it weren’t for the fact that you were, you know…dying - you might scream at them for prolonging your torture.

That is until you feel the solidness of the earth beneath your back, the dirt under your fingers as they twitch at your sides. Your savior…or who you are assuming is your savior hauls your body onto its side, and it’s like a switch is flipped. Water trickles from your lips until it all comes rushing up in a tidal wave, making your throat burn all over again as you expel the chemical laden water from your lungs.

The darkness starts to ebb away from the edges of your vision as you continue to gag and cough, fingers digging into the ground for purchase. Only when there’s nothing left do you register the hand on your back, and the body of an enforcer floating in the water in the distance.

You turn your head slowly, the action causing the headache blossoming in your temples to explode even more. The laugh that escapes your throat is raspy and broken as you take in the man sitting in the mud beside you. White shirt and dark vest wrinkled and soaked with water and what you assume is blood. Dark hair falls in disarray around his forehead, many of the locks plastered to his temples. His dual colored gaze never leaves yours as your laugh turns into broken sobs, your shoulders heaving as every cry sends searing pain through your chest.

Before you can protest, and surprisingly you don’t find yourself wanting too, two arms pull you into a solid chest. You want to fight him, your anger at him still bubbling just below the surface. But right now all you find yourself doing is wrapping your own arms around his torso as tears continue to fall down your cheeks.

“You lied,” your breath is but a broken whisper against his collarbone as you speak through your tears.

But Silco hears you. And for a moment he’s not sure if you’re referring to your past together or what just happened.

So he just holds you tighter, hoping that you can find it in you to forgive him.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Moots tag: @all-hallows-evie @twistedstitcher27 @ashotofspotchka

#silco x reader #arcane silco x reader #arcane x reader #arcane silco #silco arcane #silco #arcane

216 notes · View notes

certifiedskywalker · 3 years

Text

How to Make the Right Decision in Five Simple Steps - Bucky Barnes

On the daily, people are thrust into situations that force them to make a choice, sometimes a series of choices. Since meeting each other, you and Bucky have struggled to decide when to speak up, when to tell your truths to the other.

WARNINGS: implied sexual intimacy

PART ONE: How to Make Small Talk in Five Simple Steps

I. Identify your end goal.

“Alright, James,” you drawled as you walked towards your home. The streets were no longer as busy, bathed in an orange sunset glow. “Tell me-”

“Not James.”

“Not James?”

Bucky shook his head, but you saw the barely-there hints of a smile on his lips. It made him look softer, as did the golden hour light. “My full name...it makes me feel...old.”

“Old!? You’re what, one hundred and ten?”

“One hundred and six,” he corrected, his blue eyes meeting your gaze for only a moment before he focused back on the path you both walked. “Plus, it’s what Raynor calls me.”

“Not Mr. Barnes?”

As you asked, teasingly bumping your shoulder into his. Though, you quickly found that to be a mistake as your right arm collided with his left. Immovable and metal, the impact knocked you to the side. Before you could even yelp in fear of falling, Bucky’s hand shot out, fingers gleaming with their dark alloy, and held you in place. When you found your footing and a degree of stability, you looked up into Bucky’s blue eyes.

They were wide with concern as he asked, “are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah, just,” you warily glanced to his gloved left hand, “I forgot.”

“Oh,” he pulled his hand away, “already?”

“It’s not every day a handsome man reveals he has a Vibratium arm.”

“Vibranium.”

“I was close,” you sighed, holding out your hand. Bucky’s brow furrowed at your waiting, open palm. As if to convey a secret message, you waggled your fingers at him.

“What is it?”

“Give me your hand,” you said sheepishly, as warmth spread across your cheeks. His face lifted with the clarity you supplied, yet he hesitated to give you his left hand. It remained fixed at his side until you pressed. “So I don’t forget, again.”

Wordlessly, Bucky nodded and relented. His gloved hand reached out to your bare one and, now knowing the limb was metal, you were not surprised by the strength of his grip. Though, as if he could sense your thoughts, Bucky’s hand went lax in yours, almost limp. That was until you gripped it tighter and pulled him along to walk again.

“So, Mr. Barnes, what-”

“Not that either,” he interrupted, his eyes meeting yours for the briefest of seconds.

“You’re no fun,” you teased before you felt a pang of regret strike in your chest like a shock. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be joking, after all you’ve told me.”

“No, I...I’m not...who I told you about, that’s who I was but he wasn’t even really me. The Winter Soldier,” Bucky’s voice dropped as he said the name and he eyed distracted passersby, “is...he’s my history. I’m trying to make up for that.”

“Reparations. The court ordered therapy.”

“It’s a start,” Bucky agreed.

His tone was serious, lined with a cold edge that made you frown. Only when you glanced up at him did you feel your worry ebb. You caught his side profile perfectly as sunlight shone between two skyscrapers. His visage was cast so wonderfully, he looked nearly ethereal. Then, as you continued to walk side by side, the light was blocked behind more grey buildings. Their shadows fell across your shoulders and the sidewalk. In that same moment, Bucky looked down at you.

“And I like that you joke, that you forgot,” he said as your breath caught. Even in the shade of the city, Bucky looked lighter. Perhaps it was the lingering bits of a smile that played on his lips. You weren’t sure. “But, uh, sorry. I keep cutting you off.”

“Oh! It’s alright,” you swallowed hard, “now I just gotta figure out what to call you.”

“By my name? Bucky?”

“I mean like a nickname,” you clarified, but Bucky’s brows were knitted once more.

“It’s kinda already my nickname.”

“But my nickname, for you,” you stressed, instinctively squeezing the hand of his that you held. You frowned when you realized he might not have felt it.

“Why do you need a special one?”

“You know, now since we’re,” you paused then, as you felt your tongue may trip on the next word and because you weren’t sure if it was even the right word. “Friends.”

A moment of silence passed between you and it took all you had to tear your eyes from Buckys. When you did, your gaze fell upon a nearby building facade that looked familiar. At the sight, your heart sank. Mid-stride you stopped and turned to face Bucky, ready to give him the news. Though, before you could, he spoke up.

“Friends?”

“Yeah, friends,” you echoed, though, in your head, your words sounded more like a question. Bucky’s expression was unreadable, only adding to your hesitation.

“Friends,” he repeated slowly as if testing the word out.

His lips curved into what you could only describe as a forced half-smile as the other half of his mouth remained fixed in a frown. It was almost as if he could not decide how he felt about the word, its power in defining whatever your joined hands and the way you looked at each other meant. You couldn’t decide either. Now that you knew Bucky, you wanted to know more, to know why he let you hold his hand and why he looked at you with such softness that you stomach fluttered so. You wanted him, or did you want the idea of him that you had in your head, the idea of Bucky that you created when you met in the waiting room?

But rather than face that indecision, you glanced to the apartment complex doors that stood still to your right. “Um, well, this is me.”

“Oh,” immediately, his hand dropped from yours. “Alright.”

You lingered a moment on the bottom step leading up to the porch. Bucky’s eyes were trained on you as if waiting for something, longing for something. Though, Bucky was too much of a gentleman to ask, to feed it. You felt it too, heard it whispered in a little voice in your head. Invite him upstairs, you fool!

“I’ll see you, same time next week?” There was a teasing tilt in his voice as he asked like he knew how much it sounded like Dr. Raynor or Dr. Briam. You, now broken out of your thoughts, smiled.

“I’ll mark the appointment in my calendar,” you said, playing along. “Or, you could text me. You do have my number, after all.”

“Maybe. I still don’t know how I feel about smartphones.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re proving that ‘old dog, new tricks’ saying right when you say that, you know.”

“I’ll see you later, Y/N,” Bucky said, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned as he turned around to walk back the way you came.

You watched him go before you climbed up the stairs to your apartment building door. As you fiddled in your pocket for the keys, you looked back in his direction. You swore that your mind was playing tricks on you. You swore that this day was long and emotionally taxing and it must have been your brain’s way of telling you it was time to rest.

But you could not shake the sight, the look in his face when you saw that Bucky Barnes had looked back too.

II. Gather information to best weigh your options.

“What’s that?”

Bucky looked up from the small notebook in his hands as you sat in the seat, your chair, beside his. “Good afternoon to you too.”

“Is it your diary?” You feigned a dramatic gasp and pressed a hand to your chest. “Are you writing about me?”

A small, breathy laugh, almost true, fell from his lips. “I wish.”

Then, it was your turn to chuckle. “I think the proper response is ‘you wish’.”

“No,” he held your gaze and you felt that Bucky was seeing through you. No, not through you but into you, into your heart and soul. “I meant I wish.”

“Well then,” you took a quick breath to replace the one Bucky’s words knocked from your lungs. “What are you writing about, Buckaroo?”

“No.”

You grinned. “What?”

“No to ‘Buckaroo’ or whatever the Hell you just said. That can’t be my nickname.”

“Worth a shot,” you sighed as you leaned back in the chair. Bucky let out an amused huff and you savored the lightness of the sound. Comfortable that the almost new nickname diffused the tension, you let your body curl into your seat. Though, your eyes quickly landed on his hands, how they rested in his lap and held tight to the small notebook. Bucky let out a trembling breath and looked back at you.

Your eyes snapped to his and you saw only a heavy glaze of seriousness in the blue. “It’s my...it’s how I’m making amends.”

“Dr. Raynor has you journaling?”

“It’s more of a list.”

“A list,” you leaned towards him, intrigued. “Of good deeds?”

Bucky’s eyes flicked from yours to your lips and back again. It was a momentary slip of his gaze, but it did not ease the trembling of your next breath.

“No,” he replied, letting his attention fall to his notebook. “A list of names...”

He trailed off and raised his head, fixing his eyes on the too-high windows of the waiting room. And, just like that, Bucky was out of your reach again. His mind was towards the glass a dozen feet above from where you both sat, lost in some fogged memory. The other day, when he told you his name, his past, and about the Winter Soldier, you asked him if he remembered what he did in his ‘living weapon’ state.

All of them, he told you; though, in that moment, you weren’t sure to who or what ‘them’ referred to. Now, you had a sinking heaviness in your gut. You did not want it to be true. You did not want this heft of knowing more if it hurt Bucky. Them, the victims. His victims.

“People that you-no, not you. People that he hurt in the past when-”

Before you could finish, Bucky looked at you. Sadness carved lines in his face like scars, all around his mouth and eyes. He suddenly appeared older and your resolve broke. You had a feeling that knowing more about the real Bucky would melt your heart, but this felt more like an ache. It was clear he felt the same pain.

“Hey,” you reached your hand out and wrapped your fingers around his forearm. “You can’t change the past, only the now. And you’re trying to do that, right?”

“I’m trying, but...it’s not...better.”

“The guilt?”

Bucky only nodded in reply, his eyes never once leaving yours.

“I mean, I don’t know what Raynor is having you do but, if this way,” you tipped your head towards his notebook, “if it isn’t working, maybe it’s time to try something else. Try to make them feel better than you do.”

“How?” You frowned at the croaking desperation in his voice. Instinctively, hoping to comfort and console, your grip tightened around Bucky’s metal wrist.

“Give closure if you can, hope to others,” you shrugged, “just be there.”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded and you saw the corner of his mouth twitch up slightly as he looked at you. “I would have never thought you’d be so wise.”

A forced laugh spilled from your lips. “It’s the therapy and the trauma.”

“We both have baggage,” Bucky sighed, letting his eyes fall to the carpeted floor of the waiting room. You let your gaze follow his and saw how near you two were to each other. Your foot was close to his and smaller in comparison.

“It’s what makes us human, right?” You nudged his foot with yours as you asked and, when you looked back at Bucky’s face, you saw his eyes on you.

“Right.”

For a moment, you saw him as you did last week: walking away from your apartment building, eyes fixed on you as he looked over his shoulder. Was he thinking of that same second glance back? Was he too overcome by the desire to know more about you as you were about him? Or was he thinking that you knew too much, that it was only a matter of time before he scared you away for good?

You wanted to ask. You wanted to know. The way he was looked at you was tortuous. Yet, all that you managed to get out was: “you didn’t text me.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you wanted to pull them back in. Bucky’s face fell and his brow furrowed, and you wanted to scream. Or cry, or both. Both would do the trick.

“I didn’t mean to-” you began but stopped when Bucky started to speak.

“I was going to but I thought-”

“James.”

In turn, you and Bucky shifted your attention to Dr. Raynor. The woman poked her head out from behind the door of her office. Her displeased expression only grew more pointed when her dark eyes fell on your hand on Bucky’s wrist. Immediately, you pulled your fingers away, as if her sharp gaze stung your skin.

“I’m ready for you,” she grumbled, before retreating into the dark of her room. You glanced back at Bucky, whose eyes remained fixed on the now open door.

“You should go,” you murmured, and your voice proved to be enough to coax Bucky’s attention towards you. “Best not to keep the Grinch waiting.”

“I wanted to, I,” Bucky let out a sharp exhale through his nose. “I will text you.”

“Sure you will,” you said, hoping that your teasing tone outshone the hurt that lingered in your chest. “I’m sure you will, Buckaroo.”

“Still no.” Bucky stood up and looked down at you. “And I will. I’ll…”

You waved a hand at him. “Just go. I was kidding anyway.”

Bucky frowned but didn’t press the matter further. Instead, he started towards the door to Raynor’s office and, this time, as he walked away, he didn’t look back.

III. Consider the consequences.

“Can I walk you home again?”

At the sound of his voice, you jumped as you walked out of Raynor and Briam’s offices. With eyes wide and mouth agape, you stared at Bucky, who you hadn’t seen in weeks. At your shocked expression, he reached up and scratched the back of his head. He was nervous.

And he should be. “Bucky?! What...where have you been?!”

“It’s a long story,” he sighed, letting his hand fall back to his side. You eyed him, unwilling to let him talk his way out of his sudden, frightening absence. It was difficult to do: Bucky was still as handsome as ever. His hair looked softer in the light of day, outside of the grey of the waiting room, and his blue eyes were brighter than the last time you saw him.

“Well, I’ve got time for you to tell it,” you said, breaking from the trance his features put you in. You crossed your arms over your chest and tried to stay stern.

“Y/N, it was a matter of national importance,” Bucky assured, a small quirk pulling up at the corner of his mouth. Though, you were unamused.

“I’ve been waiting alone...I was worried. You just...disappeared. Without a word!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to worry.” Bucky nodded and a bitter laugh slipped from your lips before you could stop it.

“You didn’t text me,” you whimpered, your sternness melting under the heated pain of missing him. “And I’m not kidding this time.”

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes falling to the sidewalk before he continued. “I know and I want to explain.”

A long, strained pause fell over you both as you loitered before the doorway, staring at each other. Before you could speak up or try to tear your eyes from Bucky’s, a man, a new client of Dr. Raynor, started up the steps. To avoid being bumped into, you stepped forwards and nearly collided with Bucky. His hand reflexively reached out, shining under the sun, and held you still, secure.

“Sorry,” you murmured, as the new client disappeared inside the office. Your eyes flicked from Buckys to his hand that lingered on your upper arm. A shock of surprise rushed through you when you fully realized he was without his gloves. You turned your gaze back to Bucky’s and studied his somber expression. “No gloves?”

“Like I said, I want to explain.”

“You wanna tell me your long story in the doorway like it’s small talk?”

“No,” Bucky soothed, sensing your anger, “I want to walk you home if you’ll let me.”

You took a long, debating breath and glanced over Bucky’s face. There was nothing but sincerity in his eyes. You had not seen them so clear before. No longer were they as fogged and distant as the windows in the waiting room. Originally, you thought learning more about him would make Bucky feel less far away, but then he left. Now that he was back, he was closer than ever.

You weren’t about to push him away.

“Okay. Tell me your story, Jimmy.”

Bucky scoffed, “Jimmy?”

“I don’t know,” you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air. “James, Jimmy. It works, sort of. You being away threw me off my game.” You started down the stonework stairs and Bucky followed suit. As you both began to walk in the direction of your apartment, you felt as if everything was back as it should be again.

“I missed you too.”

At his words, you pressed you lips together to keep from smiling too broadly. Heat spread along your cheeks as you snuck a glance up to Bucky. His eyes were fixed on you still, watching, reading, and smiling. Really, truly smiling.

You swallowed hard and turned your eyes back to the sidewalk. “As much as I would love to hear about how much you missed me, you have a story?”

He sighed, “yes, and I have this friend…”

“Sam?” You asked, hoping you remembered the man’s name from when Bucky told you about the Falcon so long ago.

“Yeah, Sam.”

Then, he told you everything. He told you about John Walker, the shield, and the serum. He told you about a baron named Zemo and Wakanda’s Dora Milaje. He told you about the Flag Smashers and fighting for what’s right. He told you about the Wilson’s boat in Louisiana. He told you about how he didn’t want to put you in harm’s way.

“That’s why I didn’t text you,” he explained, “the Flag Smashers were using an app and their phones. They called Sarah, Sam’s sister, threatened her and her kids.”

“But they’re okay, right?”

“Yeah, they’re fine,” Bucky said with a fond glint in his eyes. “Played with the kids at the party.”

“Party?” You asked, a grin spreading along your lips. “I see how it is. You didn’t text me because I wasn’t invited to the after-party, huh?”

“No, actually, Sam wanted to fly you out.”

“What?!” You glanced at Bucky and stopped mid-stride. “He knows about me?”

“Of course. I told him about you,” Bucky smiled softly as he stopped. His hands were shoved in his jacket pockets, shoulders back and relaxed. He looked so wonderfully put together, more confident than before. “How could I not?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, bashfully flicking your eyes around the sidewalk. It was only then you realized you were outside your apartment building. It felt too soon.

“Well, I did.” Bucky stepped towards you, hands slipping out from his pockets. You eyed the hand that was his flesh, the rough skin of his palm before you met his gaze.

“Then, why didn’t you ask me? Fly me out?”

“Would you have wanted to come?”

“I…”

At your hesitance, Bucky leaned in closer. You could smell the leather of his jacket and notes of smoke. His blue eyes were searching your face and you felt another rush of warmth rise up and spread like gentle fires across your skin. The feeling stole your breath away, dulled your every thought until only Bucky remained.

“Would you have come?”

His second ask conjured an image in your mind: one of smiles and his arm around your waist, holding you to his side as party-goers danced. You saw kids and Bucky smiling as they threw fake punches at him and laughed when he played along. Then you saw his hands, both flesh and metal, cupping your face at the end of the evening. An evening like the one that surrounded you both.

In the soft light, you saw only Bucky, what you knew and didn’t know about him; but not a single regret. Not a single consequence.

“Yes,” you finally replied. “I would’ve.”

You were so close that you felt Bucky’s gentle sigh of relief against your skin. “Then I should’ve asked. Should’ve texted.”

“You said that you would,” you pointed out.

“You’re right. So, I guess I owe you one.”

“One text?” You smiled and Bucky shook his head.

“One text, one invitation,” Bucky’s eyes flicked to your lips then back up to meet your gaze. A lump formed in your throat at the sight. You glanced to the door of your apartment complex and then back to Bucky.

“So, if I invite you up, you’re obliged to accept?”

IV. Make your decision.

You made the choice to invite Bucky Barnes up to your apartment, but you did not remember how you led him to the door. Adrenaline dulled the proposal in your memory. For that, you were glad because, otherwise, you would have panicked as you and Bucky rode up to your floor in the elevator. Tension would have swallowed you whole, drowned you.

Before you knew it, you were inside your apartment.

“It’s nice in here,” Bucky mused, glancing around your small studio.

You mirrored his movements, eyed the exposed brick walls and scattered posters. What furniture you had was older and a small TV was precariously sat on a coffee table with a mess of wires behind it. Your kitchenette was untouched, but your garbage can nearly overflowed with trash from prepackaged meals.

“It’s not much to look at.”

“It’s cozier than my place,” Bucky said, turning to look at you from over his shoulder, “it looks like the guys’ apartment from that one show. Amigos?”

“Amigos?” You raised a brow at him as you shed your coat and draped it over the back of your favorite chair. “Never heard of it.”

“No, that’s not the name,” Bucky snapped his fingers, trying to magically summon the proper title. “It’s about friends, in New York. They live across the hall and go to some coffee shop all the time. And they’re all white.”

You laughed, “you mean F.R.I.E.N.D.S?”

“That’s it,” Bucky groaned, “it was on Steve’s list.”

“Steve’s list?” You walked into your small living room as you asked, settling on your couch. With practiced ease, the cushions gave in to your weight and you felt a rush of comfort soothe over your slight nervousness.

“That notebook, the one I used for my amends. It was Steve’s before,” Bucky wandered further into your apartment until he stood in your living room, stood before where you sat on the couch. “He made a list of all the things he missed. Movies, types of food, music, and TV shows. A lot of pop-culture things that I still don’t know.”

“Clearly,” you teased. Your light tone caught Bucky’s attention back to you. His blue eyes were darker in the limited sunset light that shone through your windows.

“I’d like to know more,” he pressed, “more about you.”

Your mouth went dry at his words but you managed to squeak out: “then ask.”

Bucky nodded and took a seat on the couch cushion beside you. You turned to face him, waiting for his questions and found yourself dumbstruck by the softness in his face.

“How would you describe yourself?”

A laugh slipped past your lips. It was laced with the sweet memory of the second time you and Bucky Barnes ever spoke to each other. That stupid magazine quiz. When you managed to collect yourself, you saw that Bucky wore a closed-lipped smile.

“In lifestyle quiz terms or in my own terms?”

“Up to you,” Bucky replied, throwing his left arm over the back of your couch.

“Hmm, I don’t know...maybe like a well-read owl?”

Bucky let out an amused huff. “You like to you read?”

“Sometimes. There are a few books I like,” you gestured to the somewhat sparse bookcase in the corner, “but it’s mostly just stuff online now.”

“Ever read The Hobbit?”

“That’s an oddly specific title,” you observed, unable to help the slight grin that pulled at your lips. “Why The Hobbit?”

“I know there are movies out now, a few years ago. But I read it,” Bucky took a breath, “when it first came out.”

“Wow,” you exclaimed, “that’s very hipster of you to say.”

“What do you mean?”

“There really is so much you don’t know,” you jested at his question.

“You mock me, but at least I’m not addicted to my phone.”

“Careful, you’re showing your age,” you laughed. When he failed to return your expression, your chest tightened. “What’s wrong?”

“Does that...does that make you nervous?”

“Your age? No,” you shook your head. “How good you look at a century old? Yes.”

Bucky smiled and his cheeks pinked, but his eyes fell to his lap. “But everything I told you, about me, my past, you’re not nervous? You’re not...scared?”

“No,” you replied quickly, “no, Buck, I’m not scared of you.”

Bucky didn’t respond and, for a moment, you feared that he hated that nickname too. Yet, rather than say so, he stared into your eyes with his lips slightly parted, waiting. At the sight, you felt a wonderful twisting in your gut as Bucky leaned in.

V. Assess the outcome(s).

You made the choice to invite Bucky Barnes up to your apartment, but you had no choice to make when it came to wanting him. You were stupid in believing there was any choice before. There was no decision to make. Not when Bucky already felt right.

Not when his hand, when the rough skin of his palm pressed ever-so-gently against your cheek. His thumb traced across the apple of your cheek as his fingers moved to hold your jaw. Just as they did so many tantalizing times before, Bucky’s eyes danced along your lips before he met your gaze once more. It was a silent question.

“Bucky,” you murmured, tone dripping with want.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

The one word is all he needed to hear. Bucky leaned in further, tilted your face up with his thumb and forefinger, and pressed his lips to yours. It was a careful kiss. As if he is scared that you lied, that you were scared and would pull away swiftly. When you lingered, Bucky tipped his lips away from yours and took a breath. You did the same and smiled.

“Was that your first kiss since before World War two?”

Bucky blinked and lifted his slightly hooded eyes to meet your gaze. His pupils were blown and his breathing incredibly slow as he drank in your pleased expression. He had lovely eyelashes, you noticed. They framed the lightness of his eyes so perfectly.

“Any complaints?” His voice was low and sent a shivering shudder down your spine.

“No,” you replied in a desperate breath.

Bucky smiled and leaned in again, captured your lips with his. His hand remained against your jaw with his fingertips kissing your neck. Your own hands traveled up along his broad chest to his neck. His skin was deliciously warm, a sharp contrast to the cool metal of his left hand when it found rest on your waist.

A gasp slipped out of your mouth at the sudden cold, but Bucky was quick to swallow the sound. He trailed searing, no longer careful kisses from your lips to your jaw to your neck. You were a wire made live by his touch. To keep the current, you moved your hands from his neck to his soft, short brown hair. You tugged on the strands, eliciting a muffled moan from his lips.

“Buck,” you mewled as he dragged both of his hands down to your hips and pulled you into his lap. At the sound of the nickname, his wandering touch paused and he let his lips brush along your skin. A barely-there touch.

You looked down at him, saw his kiss-swollen lips, and met his want-filled eyes. Despite the clear desire in his expression and the lust that pooled in your stomach, he seemed suddenly restrained. Worried that maybe he felt this was all too much too fast, you let your hands fall to his shoulders. He did not seem distant but his silence made you wary to continue.

“What is it?”

“I should’ve texted you sooner, doll,” he whispered, pressing his thumbs into your hips. “Wanted to the day I got your number but…”

He trailed off and, to keep him in the moment, to keep his eyes on you, you moved a hand up to Bucky’s face. “Stay out of your head and I’ll stay out of mine. Just be with me now, okay?”

He stayed quiet, watching you as you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips. As you did, Bucky’s hands tightened on your hips and pulled you flush against him. You didn’t moan then, but when his fingers, both of metal and flesh, slipped under the hem of your shirt, an involuntary whine escaped you. Bucky smiled into the kiss before you trailed more down his jaw.

“Okay,” he murmured, far too smug for your liking. You pulled your lips from his skin and eyed him vexedly.

Before you could tease or provoke, Bucky craned his neck and kissed you hard. You felt his thighs shift beneath your own and, in a flash, your back was laid against the couch cushions. Bucky’s weight slightly rested on you, pressing against your body marvelously. Heat lingered in the paths of his hands as they explored still covered tracks of your skin. His lips followed suit and you melted completely into bliss.

VI. Daybreak.

Light slipped through the window and cast your bedroom in an orange sunrise glow. You weren’t entirely sure how you and Bucky ended up in your bed. Well, you did, but you were still lost in the haze that surrounded the actions of the night before. Parts of your body still tingled, electrified by Bucky’s lingering touch.

You could feel it still, a tickling that emanated from where Bucky’s skin remained pressed against yours. His arm was slung around your bare waist, warm and snug. With your head on the pillow, you turned to study Bucky’s face. Sleep looked good on him.

His eyelashes fanned out against the peaks of his cheeks, which made him look angelic. You tried to remember if you had ever seen him so at peace before. Images of the waiting room danced before your eyes. You could only recall the relief that flashed across his face when he told you about his nightmares. Though, compared to the relaxed brow and softness laid before you, that expression was far from peaceful.

Unable to help yourself, you trailed your fingertips along the length of Bucky’s forearm that was wrapped around you. Under your touch, you saw the muscles beneath the skin flex and his hold on you tightened. When you glanced back at Bucky’s face, you were met with a pair of sleepy blue eyes.

“Mornin’,” he greeted, his voice gravelly from disuse.

“Morning. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I’m a light sleeper.” As he spoke, his arm around your waist squeezed once more. Now, your side was pressed to his chest and the scruff on Bucky’s chin prickled against your skin.

“You sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” he beamed, lifting his head from your pillow. “Better than okay.”

You smiled right back at him. “No nightmares or anything?”

“Not last night,” he said lowly as he leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Didn’t have a chance to.”

You reached a hand up to his hair as Bucky trailed gentle pecks along your jaw. A hum of contentment rose up your throat as he moved against you. You trailed your fingers through his messed hair and sighed. Bucky pulled away at the sound and peered down at you.

“What?”

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, gently brushing your hair back with his left hand. The coolness of the Vibranium woke you up fully and you reached a hand out to grab his wrist.

“And you’re intolerable, James Buchanan Barnes.” You intertwined your fingers with his metal ones and grinned. He returned the expression as he pinned your hand against the space beside your head.

“No jokes, no teasing,” he persisted, “you’re beautiful.” He pressed a kiss to the column of your throat and you sighed a thank you.

“You are too.” Bucky pulled back just enough to meet your eyes again. “I mean, why else do you think I talked to you in the waiting room?”

A laugh rumbled up in Bucky’s chest and you felt the vibration of the sound against your own. “I thought it was because I was new.”

“Well yeah, and handsome,” you grinned. Bucky’s eyes drank in your expression and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to that first meeting. “You looked lonely.”

“Until you,” he murmured, echoing your words from long ago.

You nodded under his softening gaze. “Until you.”

792 notes · View notes

alby-rei · 2 years

Text

Painting on Buttercream Cake (Vincent x Reader)

a/n: Written for @xxsycamore‘s and @chaosangel767′s “Be My Valentine content creation challenge 2022“ ! I treated this as a writing sprint challenge and I rolled with whatever came to mind :3 Happy reading~! ❤

[Characters]: MC, Vincent, Sebastian

[Prompt]: Chocolate baking date goes wrong

[Genre]: Cake decorating, Fluff

[Word Count]: ~800 words

~*~

Against all rhyme and reason, you and Vincent were in the kitchen baking together.

Granted, you did it at a time when Sebastian was in town running errands for the mansion residents, which meant you were in charge (and he couldn’t stop you). Normally, Sebastian only ever let you cook or bake under his supervision, especially after the last… incident.

When Vincent approached you with the purest puppy dog eyes pleading to help you in the kitchen, not a single bone in your body could say no to this man. How does one turn down an angel? So what if the kitchen potentially burned down as a result?

Besides, you had taken care of the actual baking involved, and the task at hand could not and would not result in any sort of fire hazard. He had walked by to check in on you as you were cleaning the kitchen. Your cake rounds laid on the countertop already chilled, still bare of any frosting or toppings.

“Why don’t we decorate them together?” He asked.

“Hmm, I don’t see why not?”

In front of you was a spatula, some palette knives, and a set of clean brushes, along with colored frosting.

Vincent was deep in concentration as soon as he started, which proved to be a challenge for you, as your focus was entirely on him. He never looked up from his work, save for when he needed to refill his brush. His normally relaxed visage was taut with concentration, and his wrist moved quickly to create swift marks along the cake. It was as though he already knew what he wanted the end result to look like, and he hurried to replicate what his mind’s eye could see before it escaped him.

Looking back at your own cake, you had only gone as far as applying a base white frosting all around. Whatever you wanted to try, you’d cover back up, unable to settle on one idea. You didn’t mind though, because watching Vincent in his element was such a delight. Maybe he could help you find your starting point, you thought.

“Hey, Vincent…” You called out, but he didn’t respond.

You tried again, but he continued to paint away, switching tools between his hands and mixing colors at a faster rate than you could ever think. You pouted a little at his lack of response, but it also gave you an idea. You dipped your finger into some red frosting and tip-toed behind him soundlessly. You crouched next to his face, standing opposite to his working arm. At once you sprung up and swiped his nose with frosting.

“Gotcha!”

“Wh… huh?” Vincent’s vision was suddenly shifted from his half-baked painting to the swirl of warm frosting that rested on his nose. He looked cross-eyed as he took a moment to process what just happened.

“MC? What was that?”

“Silly goose, you were so focused you didn’t even hear me call your name!”

“You did?!” He exclaimed, disbelief and guilt strewn all across his face.

It was his turn to pout at you when he realized he had been ignoring you.

“I’m so sorry, MC. Let me make it up to you…” He dropped his tools on the countertop.

“!”

Heat rose to your face as his hands cupped your cheeks and brought you closer to his face. He closed his eyes and rubbed your noses together, transferring some of the red frosting onto your nose.

“Noooo, stop!” You giggled as you tried to shake out of his grasp. But he wouldn’t budge, and you’re reminded of just how strong he really was. Your free arm grabbed a blue-covered brush, and you painted his cheek in retaliation.

“H-hey! No fair,” he protested.

The two of you chased each other around the kitchen, finding more joy in covering each other with multi-colored frosting than completing your buttercream cake decorations.

“What in heavens…”

At least until Sebastian arrived with an armful of groceries and a look of disbelief that meant, ‘you are soooo going to be in trouble!’

“Sebastian! Just in time, we were… we were uh…” you smiled wryly under his scrutinizing stare.

“Painting!” Announced Vincent proudly.

“y-yES! Decorating cakes for tonight’s dessert, and we may have gotten a liiiittle sidetracked.”

Sebastian caught movement from the corner of his eye, and he whipped his head to see a small paintbrush in the hands of Vincent’s raccoon, Brush, who looked just as guilty as the two of you. A trail of colored footprints was left behind him across kitchen. You weren’t even sure when or how he got in here, but that didn’t stop your butler friend from doubling your cleaning duties for the rest of the evening.

#Be My Valentine content creation challenge #ikevamp writing #fluffuary #ikevamp vincent #vincent x reader #vincent x you #vincent x mc #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen vampire fanfiction #vincent van vogh #alby one-shots

101 notes · View notes

jjungkooksthighs · 4 years

Text

Edacity | jjk (m)

Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x reader

Genre: platter of smut, the barest hint of fluff and the tiniest garnishment of angst / nonidol!au / college!au

Rating: 18+ / nsfw

Word Count: 8.2k

Summary: After a rough day at college in your biochemistry class, you come home to your boyfriend, who is sweetly making you dinner. In his efforts to help calm you down, he only riles you up when you realize that it’s not the food you’re hungry for…it’s him.

Warnings: dom!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, sub!reader, lots of dirty talk (let’s face it I love that shit), praising, fingering, grinding, fellatio (cock sucking), cock worship (just a smidge), unprotected sex (reader has a birth control implant in her arm but Koo doesn’t like condoms, so yeah), breast/nipple play, nipping, marking via hickeys, sucking, pussy stretching, rough and possessive sex, begging, muscle kink, scratching, precum play if that’s a thing, manhandling, pinning down, cursing, wet and messy sex (kind of), degradation kink (koo calls you a slut a couple times but that’s about it), size kink, hair pulling

A/N: This fic is brought to you by 201008 Jungkook from the “Savage Love” video he posted. I saw it, got horny and then wrote this filth. Blame him for this, not me. Also, please let me know what you guys think. Your feedback means more to me than you know. Tagging @nervouskiwi , @tricethecharm and @nightshadevinter per their request!

The door to your apartment opens and shuts with a heaved sigh from you as you drop your bag to the floor with a thump, the day’s toil stemming from an unhelpful and unknowledgeable lab partner finally taking its toll on you while you rub your eyes as if to clear away the sight of the freshman boy who’d stared dumbly at the temperature probe and gas pressure sensor before asking you which was which in your biochemistry class. After that, he’d proceeded to clumsily knock over the catalase solution you were meant to measure enzyme activity with on several occasions in his ceaseless cloddishness.

Even your professor had not noticed your lab partner’s negligence despite the seven times that you’d had to go procure a new vial of solution from the back of the classroom and when you’d asked to just do the lab alone upon finding out that your lab companion didn’t even know how to work the magnetic stirrer, your teacher still had not yielded to your plea. You had ended up doing all of the work and your efforts had gone entirely unnoticed to all but yourself. Well, almost everyone.

“Bad day?” The mellifluous voice of your boyfriend of three years wafts over to your ears and you don’t have to open your eyes to know he’s in the kitchen directly to your left, your body instinctively wanting to seek the comfort of his warm embrace after such a long day. The sound of him already has the agitation crumbling, his voice the music to your ears that you are sure you will never tire of.

“Terrible,” you whine, “my professor paired me with someone that didn’t even know what the equipment we were using was called. I had to do all the work.”

“Aww…I’m sorry to hear that. Come here, babe. I’ll make it all better, yeah?” He asks.

Your body is already moving at that and there’s the distinct clinking of a utensil against cookware that dots the space of your shared apartment. When you breathe in the succulent smell of sundubu-jjigae (one of your favorites of his) the earlier irritation is drawn away as you take in the aroma that has your stomach rumble tellingly in hunger. You really hadn’t been in want of food before you walked in, so now you’re not sure if it’s the dinner that has you craving or if it’s the person that made it.

Wanting to look upon the source of the delicatessen, you open your eyes to find your boyfriend who is already gazing softly at you while he-with one occupied and tattooed hand-attends to the stew and it is as if the frustration is drained from you immediately as you drink in the sight of domesticity.

His hair has been drawn up in a manbun that would be an instant panty-dropper if he went outside right now with the way that he’s left some of his chocolate brown fringe to frame each side of his face. It is wavy with the water from the shower he must’ve taken in the way that it darkly curves to the sides along his eyes and that alone has you suck in a breath. You let your eyes trail downward, your own malnourishment throughout the day causing familiar hungry desire to begin to pool heatedly within you at the visage of the black pajamas you’d bought for him a week ago after he’d ripped his previous pair apart in one particular voracious spur of energy to hastily plunge himself into the silken depths of your pussy. The striped shirt he now wears is open deliciously into a perfect ‘V’ shape that boasts the luscious expanse of his chest all the way down before tortuously stopping at the crest before his navel. He wears the matching pair of pants, their length giving a salacious view of his calves that you are sure the gods themselves must have had a hand in crafting.

In the dimmed light of the kitchen, you can see the shadows that curl temptingly around his abdominals, your fingers inadvertently twitching against your sides in your want to touch, to feel him again.

You know from experience how defined his chest is. You know how hot his skin is against your fingers. You know the bliss his body grants, for he has reminded you timelessly in the way that his perfect cock finds its dwelling in the wet warmth of either your mouth or your pussy as he brings you to paradise. You’re quite sure that you’ll never be able to sate yourself of him, the memory of him driving his cock into you from this morning bringing a familiar wave of desire to wash over you. You’d left him on the bed with a hardened cock after round two upon deciding to ride his thigh, thoughts of his pleading words and strained expression living in your thoughts all day long in your decision to punish him for grinding his cock into your ass so early into the morning.

Usually he wouldn’t have gone so easy on you, but after all your texts throughout the day that were telling of your stresses, he couldn’t find it in himself to discipline you. Wanting to ensure that you felt better, he had decided to wait. After all, patience was a virtue, as you had told him before.

Before you know it, you’re standing before him, one of his arms winding around you to pull you close as you let your irises dip from his eyes to those lips of his that must’ve been created by the devil himself in how they tempt you. Your boyfriend watches with interest, arousal coloring him internally when you look back up at him, your eyes beginning to cloud over in lust as you slide your hand down the sliver of his chest that he’s left uncovered for you. His skin receives you as if it had been waiting for this very moment, his muscles flexing proudly as you stroke the heated skin with appreciation. He’s more taut than usual under your touch which means he must have gotten back from the gym some time ago in the way that his muscles are tightly tensed from such use.

It is that thought that has you press your lips to his in a heated kiss, your tongue sliding through his parted lips to kittenishly lick along the roof of his mouth to earn a groan from him, the sound caught between your lips and travelling with sonic speed right down to your pussy. He takes control when you try to wrap your tongue around his, the hot muscle plunging straight into your mouth as the other hand he’d been using to stir the stew abandons its earlier movements to find purchase on your ass as he squeezes you firmly between his fingers. When you disconnect, it is with a pant after the breath he has stolen from you.

You breathe, “You’ve already made it better, Kookie, but do you want to know something?” You question as you bring your lip between your teeth, enjoying the way his eyes fix on that action as the inklings of desire begin to manifest in his eyes, in the way the soft exterior he’d been showing earlier begins to melt into something darker and far more primal under your attention.

“Tell me, baby,” He husks as you close one hand around the silk of his shirt to bunch the fabric between your fingers as you dare to unearth the heated skin of his left pectoral, “If this is how you’re going to greet me, I would very much like to know.”

When your mouth descends upon him to give soft, featherlight kisses along the line of his exposed chest, you manage to utter between them, “I bet the food you made for us is delicious, but the only thing I want to taste right now-” you peer up at him through a fan of dark lashes “-is you. You’re the only one who can give me what I really crave.”

Your boyfriend’s eyes darken instantly at that, his other hand finding its place along your ass and you need no instruction to wrap your legs around him as he lifts you like you’re a feather only to prop you back down on the cold, hard countertop as he growls, “What a needy little girl you are. Didn’t have enough of this cock this morning, huh? God, you’re such a slut for me, aren’t you?”

He lowers his head and you instinctively bare your neck for him, your legs spreading so he can step between them as you let your head fall back while one of his hands is already there to cup your nape in his effort to hold you there. You both keep your eyes locked on each other the whole time, desire burgeoning to life wildly within you as he peers at you with a hooded gaze while he moves torturously slow to where you want him and finally, finally, his lips find their home in a hot, open-mouthed kiss on the sensitive spot on right under your ear.

The warmth of his mouth has you gasp, your back straightening as one of your hands finds purchase in his hair to coax him downward as you mewl, “Yes, Kookie…yes. I’m only a slut for you. It’s only ever been you.”

You hastily unbutton his shirt while he lets you and instantly you’re salivating at the perfect canvas of him that is presented to you as the offending piece of clothing is pushed off his shoulders. Your palms, magnetized to him, splay over his abs, catching on the ridges of the defined set of muscles as they jump excitedly under your touch while you trail your hands upward. He sighs in satisfaction against your skin when the pads of your fingertips graze his dark nipples and you nearly coo at the sound of that alone.

“That’s right, Y/N. No one else makes you this desperate, huh?” He manages between kisses.

You nod as much as you can in this position and you feel the way his lips turn upward in a smirk borne of the boost to his ego, his lips descending down the column of your neck in a wet trail and it is when he gets to the jugular notch between your collarbones that he presses the wet, heated muscle of his tongue to the delicate skin there that you keen, your fingers curling inward within his hair as he hisses at the pull and in punishment, nips you there.

You are utterly powerless to stop your juices from collecting along your folds that you know is going to ruin your underwear. Without thinking, your hips begin to search for friction and you grind against him, the warm bulge of his member hardening under your ministrations.

“A-ah, Kookie, please.” You beg for his mercy and his grin deepens as both of his hands run down your clothed arms. His mouth continues to trail across the sliver of skin over your shoulders and when his hands make another pass upward along you, you watch the way that his brows scrunch together as if disturbed by something and suddenly his devilish mouth is gone. The unforgiving cold is left in his absence and you whine at his loss, not understanding why he has stopped.

Both of his hands settle on the countertop to either side of you as he leans forward, his tongue hotly poking against his cheek in a sight that only makes you wetter when his eyes narrow, “You smell different. Why?”

Your boyfriend has always had a sensitive nose, but right now, you’re hardly in the mindset to think about what it is that he’s disgruntled about as you whimper, “Kook, I was doing a lab and dealing with chemicals. That’s all, okay?”

You watch his fingers curl inward until they’re white with how hard he’s gripping the marble, his jaw setting as he hisses, “This morning you left smelling like me after I fucked you,” he grasps your chin with one hand, “Now you smell like someone else. Explain or you will get none of this cock that I know you want so bad.”

You try to think past the haze of desire, you really do, but all you can do is blink owlishly as you try to navigate the sea of want for him that has filled your mind. Under his piercing gaze, you’re frozen in place and you swallow thickly to manage the only answer that your mind can supply with a stammer, I-I… It was my lab partner,” you watch his expression begin to contort in anger and before he can sink further into the emotion, you put both hands to either side of his face in effort to keep his attention on you, “He kept brushing against me when I was doing measurements for the assignment, Jungkook. It was nothing. He is nothing to me. I promise.”

You hadn’t really thought of the implications of the first thing that you’d said, but you could see the momentary fury that had begun to color his very irises and wanting to quell it, you urge him close, your hands falling to rest on his chest as you plead with your eyes for him to understand. You both have been together three years and deep down, your boyfriend knows you would never betray him like that, but the lion of possession within him had roared loudly and there was little he could do to quiet it without the reassurance you had been so quick to feed it with.

Before you have time to process anything, your shirt has been torn from your body and lands somewhere behind you, but you have no care for that right now. Instead, your focus is on Jungkook, the anger that had begun to set in his irises overtaken by something far more carnal as he orders, “Get on your knees, Y/N. I think you need to be punished for letting someone else touch what isn’t theirs. You’re mine,” he boldly wraps a hand around each breast to give a harsh squeeze, “show me you can be a good girl and suck me off until all you know is the feeling of me on your tongue.”

His words have fresh arousal depositing itself between your thighs and with a submissive nod, your body obeys. He watches you with a darkened, lustful gaze as you lower yourself to the hardwood floor, your hands still by your sides while your boyfriend, all in one go, sheds his matching pajama pants until they puddle along his feet abandonedly.

Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick, muscled thighs that you’ve fucked yourself on more times than you count, but your salivary glands do not fully exert themselves in hunger until your irises trail up to the thick shaft that arches deliciously upward as a constellation of veins scale along it all the way up the bulbous head that is already wet with precum. His tip rests artfully along his abdominals in some kind of lewd painting brought to life that you could stare forever and a day at, a whine coming from your lips as you lick them.

Your boyfriend watches with interest as you ogle him and when he sees the pink of your tongue draping itself sinfully against his lip, he declares, “If you don’t get your mouth on me right now, baby, I’m going to fuck your face later, yeah?”

That one has you moaning in thought, your boyfriend’s lips turning up in a smirk as you quickly lean forward, both hands trailing slowly up his legs and compressing around the thick, corded muscle as you do. When your hands find his member, you lightly run the tips of your fingers over his aching dick, the veins there throbbing energetically at your touch. He groans at that and then one of your hands encircles itself over his base where you gently squeeze the half of him that your fingers can reach, your other hand curling around him and stroking up and down as he grunts in pleasure, his eyes screwing shut.

You swallow with some effort when your thumb runs over his slit to collect more of his fluid before swathing it along his glans as you ready him for your mouth. He’s already substantially hard, but you have no doubt that he will become even more so when you finally do suck him off. He really does have the world’s most perfect dick and you don’t think you’ve ever seen a thicker, bigger and better one than his.

Granted, you’ve only ever actually seen and felt his, but you have never had a wish to have anyone else’s. You couldn’t possibly have room to want anything else when he fills you so deliciously, when he fits inside you like he was made for you.

“Such a nice, pretty cock, Kookie…thank you for letting me have it,” you praise.

As you bring him toward your waiting mouth, you blow out a puff of air to have him suck in a breath, his jaw clenching as one hand finds itself in your hair to guide you forward. With one final look up to his face, you take him into your mouth to watch his face contort into an expression of pleasure, his eyebrows scrunched together and his hair veiling his face to the point where you can only see his eyes based on the glint in each iris that flashes erotically at you as he takes a stuttered breath.

Your walls clench contract around nothing as his member fills the wet cavern of your mouth while you try to take him as far as you can. Even like this, your hand still holds his base in his profound length despite the fact that you’ve gotten him as far your throat will allow.

You’ve deep-throated him many times in the bliss that you have discovered you can grant him and now will be no different. There is nothing that you enjoy more than knowing that you alone can give him pleasure.

When you’ve fitted him inside your mouth a little bit more, that’s when you run your tongue along his length before sucking, your cheeks hollowing out as you do. Your boyfriend’s fingers tighten in your hair as he growls, “Yeah, that’s it, baby. God, you’re so perfect for me. That little mouth takes me so fucking well.”

You swallow around him, drawing him deeper into your throat as you all but guzzle him in your ministrations. He leaves a salty taste on your tongue in the precum that you collect and you can’t say you don’t fucking love the taste of him. You hungrily slide your tongue over his slit before kittenishly licking along the sides, a guttural moan tearing itself from the recesses of his body as he bucks under your ministrations.

When your boyfriend opens his eyes to peer down at you, it’s enough to have his cock throb inside your wet warmth. The way that his cock disappears beyond the cradle of your lips is sin itself, but the way that you stare heatedly at him with desire simmering hotly in those irises of yours…Jungkook thinks if eroticism had a picture, you would be it right now.

He’s just hit the back of your throat and because of that, drool has begun to pool along the sides of your mouth and fondness floods him at the sight, his thumb brushing away the spit only to lather it over your lips as he croons, “Look at my beautiful, messy girl starting to fall apart on my cock. Fuck, you’re so good for me, Y/N. Such an obedient little girl,” you suction your mouth intensely around him at that, “Think you can take me farther? I bet you can fit all of me down that tight throat of yours if you really try.”

His praises have your walls fluttering around nothing as you engulf him impossibly farther into your mouth with another swallow, the wet slurping sounds of your ministrations filling the room as he starts to massage your head through tightened fingers that pull at the roots of it. You inhale through your nose, unable to any longer breathe through your mouth through the cock that blocks your airway and in one fluid motion, you press forward and try, but fail, not to gag around him as his dick sinks further into your throat.

Tears instantly threaten to fall from your eyes as they water, your vision becoming blurry as you sputter against his dick. The sensation of your throat closing around him earns a hiss as he responsively thrusts his cock into you, unable to stop himself from chasing his pleasure.

You let him fuck your mouth, enjoying the sounds of rapture that tumble freely from his mouth and content in the knowledge that you are able to gift him this euphoria. Tears are quick to fall from your eyes as you suckle him, the wide girth of him easily hitting your gag reflex in the back of your throat as you trail your tongue along the underside of his shaft while you slacken your jaw to ease his access.

Your boyfriend coos while he watches your tits rise and falls with the efforts of your breaths, “Such beautiful tits, baby. If you hadn’t been a bad girl earlier today, maybe I could have used them as a cocksleeve. I bet you would have liked that, too, you dirty slut.”

You preen at his words with a moan, the vibrations of that heightening his pleasure and it is when you slide a free hand under him to grasp and fondle his balls that are extremely full in the seed that aches with need to be released that he grunts with fervor and when you roll them in your hands like dice before you gently run the pads of your fingers over them, he throws his head back, his mouth parting as he drives his cock into you one more time. With how far down his cock hits at your larynx now, you can’t see him any longer through the blurred vision as tears stream down your cheeks while you cry out his name.

“Fu-fuck, baby. I can’t l-last much longer if you keep doing that. You really love this cock, don’t y-you? Tell me how much you love it. I w-wanna hear it with my cock in your mouth.” He manages through labored breaths.

You hum in agreeance, the burn of his dick inherently insistent as he moves and the vibrations your sound makes has his cock throbbing dangerously as it begins to swell in warning of his impending end. He’s so hard already and your pussy aches to receive him, your walls contracting around nothing at the feel of his hot member between your lips.

“I love it, Kookie. I love it so much. Love how big you are.” You splutter despite the very large dick currently nestled between your lips.

You make a point to show him by swiveling your hand around what little of him is beyond the reaches of your mouth at this point while your other hand drags itself downward from his balls to rub at his perineum. That one has his back bowing inward, his fingers fisting in your hair as he groans and you can feel how his cock pulses in warning of his climax that you cannot wait to taste the fruits of as you flick your tongue along his length once, twice and then three times before suddenly, with a guttural sound, his fist pulls at your hair roughly to effectively extricate himself from your mouth as he breathes laboriously above you.

You both watch as your spittle clings to his cock in a thin line in its attempts to remain connected to him until it sadly breaks off and away. You whimper at the loss of him, blinking up at him far too innocently for someone that just had a dick rammed down their throat and you watch the way his eyes flash cravingly at you only to rub your neglected thighs together in search of some friction.

“As good as that was, baby,” he lowers himself down to your level to wipe away the tears that had collected along the sides of your face as he darkly declares, “there’s somewhere else that I want to cum in today and you’re going to let me, aren’t you?”

You nod without a thought, his hands are quick to wrap around your waist and lift you with ease until you’re splayed out on your back for him along the countertop that is mercifully long enough to support your torso. Your legs dangle precariously off the edge, but they never reach the floor and like this, you’re granted an unfettered view of him, his now engorged dick standing to attention along his abdominals and when you peer up at his blown out irises, you release a shaky sigh in anticipation as he licks his lips like you’re a meal he’s about to fucking devour.

“You know, I wanted to eat you out, baby. I really did,” he husks as he steps forward between your legs that you part in invitation, “but you sucked me off so good that now all I can think about is ramming this cock into you so hard that you won’t remember anything but my name and getting my fill of you until you milk me fucking dry, Y/N.”

Arousal ignites within you at that and you pleadingly implore, “I want you to do that, gods, I do, but first, Kook…kiss me. Please, kiss me. After that, you can fuck me to your heart’s content.”

You don’t know how you find yourself wanting even more of him, but you do. His mouth, you are sure, is the work of an incubus in the way that it can work sinfully against you. The words that tumble from them light the fires of desire within you and just want to feel the warmth of his lips again, honestly.

He arches a brow at this as he leans over you, one hand finding purchase along your waist as he rasps, “You want me to taste myself, baby? Is that it?”

You can tell by the lilt in his voice that he’s playing with you and you already know this is a game he will ultimately lose, for you have a trick up your sleeve that he forever and always falls for. You let your hand slither along your body, your index finger dipping between your wet folds while he watches with a hooded gaze as you bring your soiled hand to your lips to dapple your essence over them like a lewd lipstick before you angle your chin up invitingly to beseech, “Won’t you taste me, Kookie? Don’t you want to taste us? Please,” you whine,” all I want is a kiss. No one...no one kisses me like Jeon Jungkook. Please, Kookie. I want your mouth so bad.”

Your boyfriend brings his lip between his teeth at that as he lowers himself down to your level, his sinful irises burning heatedly into your skin as he utters, “That’s it, baby. I love it when you beg for me. So fucking hot.”

With that, his lips descend over your own, your arms wrapping around him as you mewl into his mouth. He consumes you and drinks from you like you’re his last means of sustenance, his lips capturing yours in voraciousness as his tongue runs boldly along them in quick movements of possession before he’s sliding the wet muscle everywhere he can reach in his mission to claim the depths of your wet cavern. He can taste the remnants of himself on your tongue and with the sweet juices of your sex that you’d lathered over your lips, it’s a combination he has come to thoroughly enjoy the taste of in how well flavor of you both coalesce into something so tangy.

When he’s satisfied with his mapping of your mouth, he draws your lower lip between his teeth before suckling the tender flesh to have you gasp at the sensation.

Distracted by that alone, you do not notice the hand of his that isn’t currently attached to your waist that snakes slowly downward to slip with ease under your grey sweatpants and between the silk panties that cover your womanhood. Your breath hitches upon the sensation of his long, tattooed fingers dragging themselves against your slit and you’re not surprised at the generous collection of your juices that make his digits glide along your folds, but he hiss he makes is delicious when he curses, “Fuck, Y/N. You’re this wet when I haven’t even touched you? God, you really are a slut for me, huh?”

With one hand, you entangle your fingers along the hair at the nape of his neck as you breathe, “Only for you, Jungkook. This is all for you.”

He plunges one finger inside you at your response and immediately sibilates at the way that your wet warmth welcomes his digit enthusiastically and energetically. With as wet as you are, you know that you will have no problem taking him, the considerable amount of slick between your legs tangible evidence of your need to receive and welcome him into your sex. It takes no time at all for him to add a second finger, one thumb rubbing at your clit as you moan his name, your eyes falling shut as under his ministrations. Warm waves of heat fall over you under his touch and you bask in his avid attention. Without extricating his hand from your pussy, he orders, “Take off your pants, baby. I want to see this pretty cunt while I fuck it.”

You heed his command, one hand disconnecting from around his neck to hurriedly discard your pants and underwear along the floor in one fell swoop as your boyfriend’s hungry irises flick downward to feast upon the visage of your dripping cunt. Something about the way that his fingers disappear into your wet depths transfixes him, the squelching sounds that your pussy makes going straight to his core as arousal flares within him. Wanting to prepare you for him as thoroughly as he can, he continues to swirl his fingers over your clit in measured circles before the two fingers he’s got inside you curl inward in a come hither motion. The sensation has you throwing your head back, a stuttered cry coming from your lips as your fingers tighten in his hair and your unoccupied hand latches onto his strong bicep in search of something, anything to cling to.

His vision darts upward to your face to catch your expression shift to one of pleasure under his touch, thick and heavy desire for you demandant in its need that manifests in the ache of his cock that pulses with need to find its home within your silken walls. He yearns for you so much now that it’s almost painful to bear it when the source of his relief is only a few inches away and, distantly, he thanks the gods above that you’d gotten a birth control implant before you’d both become intimate for there is no greater heaven, he is sure, than when he is burrowing his cock into you velveteen walls and finishing there where he belongs.

He lowers himself to your ear, his warm breath pebbling your skin as he husks, “What do you want me to do to you, baby? Do you want this? Or,” you whimper loudly when his fingers are pulled from your pussy only to hitch your breath upon the hot, hard member he is quick to slide against your generously lubricated folds, the edges of him torturously dragging just above your waiting slit as he smirks darkly, “do you want my fat cock? Fuck, you really just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

You mewl when he takes your earlobe between his teeth, his tip brushing along the tender bundle of nerves along your clit, words escaping you beyond his name as you manage, “Jungkook.”

You watch as he angles himself along your sopping entrance, the continued sweep of his dick across your folds an erotic sight that has heat lather itself like honey over your core as you wrap your legs around him in answer. Words elude you like your mind is caught in his maze and with every stroke of his cock between your sensitive labia, your mind is brought to a dead-end that you have the truest of troubles navigating.

Your boyfriend takes your silence as disobedience, both hands laying possessively over pierces you with his commanding gaze, “I asked a question, baby. I require an answer if you want to get fucked,” he punctuates this to mercilessly poke his tip against your entrance while squirm against him, “Use that pretty mouth and tell me what you want or else I’m going to tie you up and leave you crying for me on our bed while you get to watch me finish myself off with my own hand.”

His words have fresh arousal depositing itself within your folds as you mewl, but under his ministrations that have him running his cock along your sex, his dick catches your newly released taint when you wrap your legs around him in your effort to encourage him inside and he hisses at the sensation as your labia embrace and enfold around his member as he squeezes your sides tight enough that there will be marks there tomorrow in the shape of his fingertips.

“Tell me now, Y/N, or you’re going to be punished. You’ve been so good, baby. Do you really want to be naughty now?” He rasps as he uses the grip he has on your hips to pull you even closer, the promise of sin flashing dangerously in his eyes through the fringe that falls along them.

Powerless to resist his demand, you submissively whisper, “Want …want your big cock. Want you to fuck me so good with it that I can’t walk and for you to paint my pussy with your seed. God, Jungkook, I want you so much right now. Can I please, please have your cock inside me?”

Your boyfriend leans up to tower imposingly and commandingly over you, excitement flourishing within you in the anticipation of what he’s about to do to you as he smirks while he angles himself toward your entrance and with a flick of a dark brow, he warns, “Prepare yourself, baby, because I’m not going to go easy on you. I’m going to fucking ruin you because that’s what you deserve for getting me so fucking hard for you, (Y/N).”

That is all the caution he gives you before, all in one go, he propels his length inside you with a sharp thrust of his hips. You moan as he enters you and he doesn’t stop until he’s fully sheathed within you, his tip just barely missing the cluster of nerves hidden within your center as your mouth parts in an ‘o’ shape.

Your walls greet him eagerly and envelop him with fervor only to cause him to groan, “Fuck, baby. How are you still this tight after I fucked your little cunt this morning and last night?”

Lost in the sensation of him buried within you, you can’t find the words to answer him when he starts to impel himself into you without abandon, his irises glazing over in desire as he chases his pleasure. Like this, his bangs hang heavily over him and flit back and forth frenziedly in his ministrations, but you can see his eyes in their entirety now and their darkness seeps straight into your core in the lust that simmers there.

Captured in his consuming gaze, you notice the way that his irises dip from your own to the neglected breasts that bounce in the jostling movement he wracks on you, heat licking up your spine when you watch the tip of his pink tongue hungrily dart across his lips to wet them. Before you realize what’s happened, his hot mouth is upon one of your mounds, his lips suctioning your tit against him with avid voracity as he leaves a purple petal to blossom there under his ministrations. It joins the myriad of others that he’s left from your previous couplings like brands over your skin and you relish in the new addition that marks you as his.

“Shit, I love your tits so much. So soft and warm in my mouth. You really do have the most beautiful breasts, baby.” he mutters as you close your eyes at the sensation of him on you, your fingers leaving their own claim on him as you claw your nails down his back while he pounds into you with vigor. He seems to approve with the way that he speeds his movements like the rabbit he reminds of while in some kind of heat. You throw your head back when his velvety lips enclose around your areola, his hot tongue flicking against your pert nipple unrelentingly as you buck underneath him with a weak, broken mewl. The sinful chuckle that erupts from him is felt before it is heard, the deep thrum of the vibrations dripping right through you and straight to your core that clenches around him in response.

“Please…” You breathe out the only word that can come to mind through the haze of hormones that now cloud your vision.

When you sink one hand into his locks once more to pull at his hair, he makes a sound of disapproval, blown irises heating you like a furnace as he focuses his sight on you when he growls, “I’m not done yet, Y/N. I’m going to suck these pretty nipples of yours until they’re fucking swollen because of me. These,” he blows a warm puff of air against the sensitive areola of your left tit,” are mine. You need to be reminded of that.”

You whimper at that, his other hand palming at your other breast while he rolls your nipple with practiced ease between his fingers. When he punctuates a particularly acute slam of his hips into you with a long, wetted lick of his tongue in a stripe over your engorged bud, that’s what has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you wail, his dick hitting your g-spot with precision that tears the sound from your throat in the way that he pairs it with an agonizingly delicious ministration of his tongue.

He suckles you through it all and when the warmth of his mouth finally leaves you, your breast is freed from him with a ‘pop’ from between his lips and don’t see the way that he’s painted you with his spit, nor the way that he peers longingly at the engorged, abused nipple he’s left in his wake before he’s moving to the other to latch onto your neglected tit like a newborn trying to coax the life-giving essence of milk from you. You cry out when he decides to nip at you, the hand that he’s left on your hip gripping you roughly in effort to keep you in place against his fierce thrusts of his hips inside you.

Before long, you feel your nipple harden under his ministrations and with a groan, he releases you from his mouth only to rise and watch your freshly marked breasts move laboriously up and down in your strained breaths, the gleam of his spit shining prominently under the dimmed lights in the kitchen. Your neck is arched back and your eyes are screwed shut in the picture of submission as you let him use you for his pleasure while he continues to pound into you with the strength of an ox every single time.

You feel fingers grasping your chin to urge you to angle your chin downward as he commands, “Look at me, Y/N. When you’re getting fucked by me, you’re going to watch me and keep those pretty eyes on me so you can burn it into that head of yours that there’s only one man who can make you feel this good.”

If you weren’t panting before, you surely are now as your body heeds his demand, his words playing you like an instrument as heat coils heavily in your core as you take him in cravingly while he coos, “That’s a good girl. So obedient.”

He’s leaning above you now, the muscles of his chest flexing and contracting as he rolls his hips piercingly into you to hit just the right spot time and time again, euphoria steadily building each time. His hair, from all of your attention, is mussed and somehow the man bun he’d been sporting before is looser to allow more of his chocolate tresses to frame his face, his lips reddened from lavishing on your breasts. Sweat sluices his skin everywhere, which somehow makes him even more irresistible as you urge him down for another kiss.

He denies you at first, deciding to smirk cockily as he angles his head and in the movement, you notice the attractive tint of rosiness to his cheeks in the blood that has rushed there through his earlier efforts as he clucks his tongue, “Words, baby. Use that mouth of yours and maybe you’ll get what you want.”

You whine as he rams into you, your vision jerking upward as you wrack your brain to formulate some kind of response through the sea of lust that resides there now. Somehow, you manage, “I-I want another kiss.”

His fingers sink deeper into your waist as he prods, “Yeah? Where do you want my mouth, angel?”

In answer, you take the hand he isn’t holding you with, your digits wrapping around his index finger as you bring it to your mouth to breathe, “Here,” you lower your joined hands in a slow trail down your throat that contradicts the rapid thrusts he impels you with,” here,” you drag his hand through the valley of your breasts until it’s splayed possessively over your stomach, “and here. I want you everywhere, Kookie. Please.”

Your boyfriend licks his lips as he lowers himself down once more to your level as he husks, “Fuck, the things that you do to me, baby. You’ll get what I decide to give you, yeah?”

His mouth descends upon you in a French kiss that puts others to shame, his traitorous tongue leaving no part of your mouth untouched and wrapping possessively around your own in a show of dominance that you have no wish to resist. He presses his lips insistently over yours, consuming you in his wet heat that you relinquish your own mouth to. The hand that had been draped along your side before slides along your waist to relish in your contours, his other hand moving behind your head to hold you there as he drinks his fill of you.

When he breaks for air, you’re breathing heavily and he gives you no time to recover before heavy, lingering kisses are rained down along your jawline and then he’s descending like a stream down the frontal column of your previously marked throat from last night’s exploits with him. He lathers his mouth over you in open-mouthed kisses, his tongue brushing over your sensitive skin while he keen, your back arching up and into him as you press your naked chest against his own to earn a hiss from him while he continues to pound into you relentlessly.

His name leaves your lips in a stuttered breath, “Jungkook.”

Your boyfriend croons, “Be good for me and take it, baby. If you do, I’ll let you cum around my cock.”

Your feel your core tighten and clench compactly around him when his mouth trickles down between your breasts, adding a few more hickeys on the way so that there are now entire constellations of his marks in mottled purples and reds all along your body. When he manages to get to your stomach, that’s when he administers a closed-mouthed kiss that is made domineering by the way his irises peer hotly at you before he parts his lips to lick heatedly above the area of your navel as you whimper out.

With his face inches from your own, you can see the blown out irises that stare hungrily at you, your gaze thirsting to drink him in as the sounds of your coupling fill your ears. With every roll of his hips into you, his balls slap against your pussy mercilessly in combination with the lewd squelches his dick makes as it drives itself into you without pause.

He rams into you now with the might of ten men, your core tightening around him as he groans in his ministrations. He pulls you into him with the hand that is wrapped around your side, your moans joining his when the hand he’d been holding your head with snakes heavily down your body in a hot trail from your neck and then down to your abdomen before stopping torturously just before your glistening folds.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist to urge him where you need him most as you breathe, “C-close, Kookie. I’m almost there. Please, let me cum.”

Your walls are beginning to tense around him with your impending end and he knows how to play your body like an instrument to get it to sing the tune he wants. He watches you plead with your eyes imploringly at him while he denies you what he knows you want most, instead choosing to plunge himself inside you especially hard to cause you to cry out. There is nothing quite like your pussy, nothing quite like the way that you suck him in and refuse to let him go until you’ve ensured that he has released inside you like an uncontrollable pubescent boy learning how to come for the first time.

You make him ravenous and in that appetence, the ambrosia that is you is a delicacy he will never grow tired of. So, he indulges in you and lets himself enjoy your sweet depths for as long as he can until you’re screaming nothing but his name in your need to come undone, your thighs trembling from under him as you curl your fingers unyieldingly around his wrist.

He finally obliges you, his thumb pressing deeply down onto your clit as you wail in pleasure before he’s quickly drawing figure-eight patterns along the bundle of nerves as he pistons in and out of you deliciously. Your walls begin to quiver with your oncoming end and knowing this, your boyfriend stares zealously at you to darkly command, “Come on, baby. Cum for me. Cream all over this cock that you love so much.”

It takes one final slam of his hips into you to have his cock bury itself so deep inside your pussy that it perfectly presses against your g-spot while his fingers rapidly attend to your clit before your body instinctively heeds his order, spots erupting behind your eyelids as thousands of tiny, warm presses inside your sex signal your orgasm while you throw your head back, your eyes still locked on him as your mouth parts and you shriek his name out for the entire apartment complex to hear as your climax explodes with the intensity of a firecracker within you.

He groans at that to utter, “That’s right, baby. Let everyone know who has fucked you so good. Tell them all who owns you.”

Your walls flutter and spasm deliciously around him and your boyfriend grunts at the sensation, loving the way you wrap around him like your pussy was made for this and before he knows it, he’s throbbing and following behind you with his own release as he colors your walls with his creamy seed in violent, energetic bursts.

“Mine. You’re mine,” he repeats over and over as you both ride out your orgasms.

You wrap your arms tighter around him to give him a light peck along his jaw as you say, “Yes, Kookie. I’m all yours. I love you so much.”

He catches his breath as you fondly wipe away the sweat that has collected in beads along his forehead while you tenderly tuck his fringe behind one ear before he earnestly tells you, “I love you more.”

Sometime later he feeds you the stew he made for you as you moan in delight at the warm trickle of it down your throat while he spoons it to you from your place on his lap. Your sounds of enjoyment had been quick to get him hard underneath you as you’d knowingly fidgeted in effort to drag your ass over his member that you found yourself longing for once again. Your antics had proven successful in the fervid way he’d eaten you out like a five course meal before you fed him the dessert of your sweet juices before he’d dragged you to the bedroom for round three.

Hours after that find you both well into the night with the window open so that the moonlight can spill in on the two of you atop your shared bed. You are sure to remind him just how much you love him then when he wakes to find you grinding on top of him as you welcome him once more into your wet warmth that has only and will only ever belong to him.

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #jungkook #bts

2K notes · View notes

missgeniality · 3 years

Text

A Work Of Art (m)

“In our life there is a single color, as on an artist’s palette, which provides the meaning of life and art. It is the color of love.” - Marc Chagall

➺ Banner: The lovely @dee-ehn 💕

➺ Pairing: Jimin x Female Reader

➺ Genre: PWP, Smut, Slightest Angst

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 7.3k

➺ Summary: You surprise Jimin with his Filter outfit; and then some.

➺ Warnings: tongues get tired in this fic, dom!jimin, we talk about spit, some biting, jimin loves praise, lingerie n stuff, nipple play, oral sex (m&f receiving), we talk more about spit, some bondage is involved, degrading names, blindfolds, spanking (maybe too much, don’t look @ me), light choking, light face-fucking, cum eating, we talk even more about spit, hickeys galore, some edging?, unprotected sex (don’t do it kids, not even for Jimin)

➺ Author’s Note: (repost bc tags, you know how it is) huge s/o to @ilikemesometaetaes for making time to beta read this monstrosity 💜 thank youuuu! Also thanks to @honeiibeehobi, @kithtaehyung for helping me with the many many details & @ppersonnafor hyping up this idea or else it would have never seen the light of day ;_; lol i will come back to edit this cuz this didnt let me focus on my paper due tonight so if you see a spelling mistake or tense error umm no you didnt 👀

do let me know your thoughts!! the smallest feedback goes a long way! 💛💛

This is the first part of my Dress Down series, find more at it’s masterlist!

Y/N: soooooo, I did a thing. JM: is the dishwasher flooding our kitchen again? Y/N: -_- i’ll give you two more guesses. JM: oh no. you picked up a dog from the street again. Y/N: come onn!! JM: y/n, last time you picked one up, HE HAD AN OWNER Y/N: you’re down to your last try, or else i’m taking this off. JM: … JM: so its something you have on? 😏 Y/N: pic_210124.jpg JM: holy shit JM: wait wait fuck JM: keep the door unlocked.

“You like?”

The bob in his Adam’s apple wordlessly conveys the answer you’re looking for.

A crisp, white, button down shirt, tucked into black trousers, topped off with a panama hat that matches your top half is the view Jimin comes home to. Your dress pays homage to Jimin’s Filter outfit - actually, the exact one - the one that showcased his immaculate dance moves, the one that exposes his delicious collarbones, the one that brings the irresistible urge to bite your way up his neck - the one he eventually rids.

If you had to pick a color, he is a flustered orange, bright and blushing, turned on by the indecent implication of your very decent outfit.

You’re on the counter, one leg crossed over the other, accentuating the swell of your ass. Landing on the pads of your feet, you take a few steps towards the man with the unhinged jaw.

“Babe.” a mellow croak - Jimin can’t get a whole sentence out without saliva pooling and obstructing his speech. “You, in my clothes… fuck.”

Chuckling at his very obvious loss of words, you give him a twirl, allowing him to fully soak in your outfit.

“Was waiting for you.”

Three long strides and you were in his arms, a pair of lips desperate to invade your space and claim you. An Angel on your shoulder tells you to give in; after all, this is the end result - what you both want.

However, the Devil on the other side, no no no. It wants you to make him suffer. To get revenge for all the times you were taken control of. It remembers all the days he turned you on with shoot photographs and all the nights he brought you to the brink only to stop you from tipping over with a cocky smirk and a cheeky wink.

The Devil was created from the moments when you thought you would actually erupt, begging for release, only to be shoved aside with a single growl of ‘don’t you fucking dare.’

Your desire to please him effectively silenced the Devil and kept it at bay. But no more. All those times built up and gave your Devil the power to force its way against your will to restrain it, causing it to rise to the surface.

You will have the upper hand.

So you push him away, keeping him at an arm’s length for your safety to have him on his toes. Forlorn eyes meet your steely ones, and you physically stop yourself from giving in to his puppy gaze - those eyes can turn icy and sultry when nailing you into the bed like his rent depended on it.

“Sit there. I have a-” You turn to switch on some music, “-small present for you.”

“If the small present isn’t me folding you in half and fucking you till sunrise,” He sits with visible reluctance, irises slowly transforming into magma orbs, “I don’t want it.”

“Well, we’ll see… Depends on how you behave.”

On a normal day, this comment would have lit your ass on fire, pronto.

Today isn’t a normal day at all.

You stride on, every noiseless step you take leaving a wreckage of nerves behind, ignoring the smoldering gaze he has locked on you- you are unsure whether he is deciding your punishment or simply admiring how his clothes fit on your body.

You stand on the side, drinking him in.

From your viewpoint, this is ridiculous. Those cursed jeans, vacuumed onto his thighs, ensure your eyes don’t miss a single ridge. His legs are spread out, beckoning you to have a seat, and the Angel once again begs for some reprieve. He knows what he’s doing; knows you inside and out- knows you couldn’t miss a chance to ride him like this. The wicked smirk flashing back at you is confirmation.

But you stymy that thought at its root. Walking behind, you wrap your arms around him to faintly buss his cheek.

“Sooo I was watching Filter…”

Jimin hums against your feeble touch. He wants more. The soft wind of your breath routing through his jeweled ear sends a wave of goosebumps down his spine. From behind, you run your hands over his sinewy biceps, taut in restraint - holding themselves back against the suffering you are putting him through.

“You do know how fucking hot you looked, right?” You playfully let your tongue toy with the hanging ornament, the briefest of flicks causing Jimin’s shoulders to push back, trying to connect with your bosom.

With a crooked finger under his jaw, you bring him to meet your eyes- eyes that are adorned with layered shadows of deep maroons, a variety of colors blending into your skin tone, eyelashes piqued up and ready to reach the clouds.

“So pretty…” He whispers out as you place your hat on its rightful throne - Jimin’s head.

A lone digit traces the lines of art you etched for him, appreciating every single stroke you put in to make a memorable time. Warm merigold rays bloom in your chest in response to his gaze, with him looking at you like you invented the sky. Pupils are dilated, and the only reason you can see each other is because of the practically nonexistent distance between you.

His eyes pick up on your tapering resolve to keep him in line. A light quiver of need passing your lips as you hopelessly vie for dominance is what most likely gives you away.

Grabbing you by the neck, he pulls you into a deep kiss, plunging his tongue into you with reckless abandon like he was a nomad all this while and your mouth has finally claimed him home. Your neck strains at the awkward angle and surely even his is hurting, but the pressure of his hand is unrelenting.

His tongue searches and searches, desperately looking for a part in you he has not yet explored. You’d think the years of togetherness would have diminished this fiery attraction but no, he comes onto you like he has a mission to prove - to validate his love for you, to plead you to be his. You would happily accept this shower of affection, returning it with due interest.

With great difficulty you part, a string of spit still connecting your lips because he has not let you move far enough. “Uh-uh. Be good.” You pout a little, breaking character.

“You’re here. In my clothes. A walking dream. How the fuck am I to be good?” He pulls you back in to continue what you cut short but you break the line of spit and his intention with a hand wedged between your faces.

“I asked you a question, Mister.” Back on your cocky nature, you graze your lips against oh-so-lightly, barely giving him anything to feel, but the tingling on his skin shows he can feel it all.

The adoration moves into a competition, “You tell me, sweetness - how did I look?”

It’s always the praise. He loves it when you struggle to tell him his dick was crafted by the heavens when you’re choking on it, but he still makes you do it. You stutter and stumble your words when his lips smack against your cunt, devouvering and digging for the treasure of your cum, but he forces you to tell him. When you sit on his dick, your brain has no sense of diction or direction, only chasing the high at his mercy, but he makes you scream it out loud, letting everyone beyond the pearly gates know, between moans and wails, that only he can break you down this way.

“This shirt, sweetie.” Your nose trails the path between his collar and the ends of his hair, basking in the sweet vanilla scent, “You’re all covered. Why, pray tell,” You dig your teeth into the point where his shoulder meets his neck, “does this sole patch of skin turn me on so bad?”

He sucks in an inhale through his clenched teeth, his stunning visage devoid of any virtue. His head is thrown back, hat toppling over in the movement and giving you a larger canvas to mark, an opportunity you happily grasp. The mellifluous tones he is producing is recorded in your mind for lonelier nights to come.

“And the red suit? Fuck, your corseted waist?” At the corner of your eye you see his fingers clenching into a fist, your lush voice making it harder and harder for him to breathe.

You slowly stride forward, painfully slow, letting him notice every single muscle of your body curving to his unspoken command, undoing one button at a time until your torso is revealed- and shows the true purpose of your scarlet eye makeup.

A deep burgundy camisole, ribbed at the waist to accentuate the way your hips flow has Jimin salivating to no end. The strappy number, with carmine ribbons flowing into your yet to be removed bottom half- a deed Jimin intends on rectifying very, very soon- calls to him sinfully. The lingerie twists and ties in incomprehensible ways, but the amount of cleavage it gives you is ungodly.

If they weren’t already, Jimin’s eyes are now wide open.

Time comes to a standstill as he checks out your whole figure, taking in every embroidered pattern on the lingerie and every embellishment on your breasts. Before, you were already a five-star meal, but now? An emperor’s feast.

The little flower right on top of your nipple has Jimin’s attention. His thumb comes up to trace the bedecked rose, following the stitched line of stem that takes him to the peak, then drawing over petal by petal. Each time he reaches close to your hardened nub, he abstains from crossing over it, making your nipple hardens imperceptibly under the presentiment of any relief and the disappointment when nothing arrives. His other hand, sitting on your waist, coaxes you to straddle him while he plays gardner on your bust.

“Jimin…” Your nipple, finally finding solace under his thumb, is not faring too well under the attention. Your plan of teasing him is slipping through your fingers like sand.

“Tell me baby, what do you want?” His finger is now tracing the seams of your lingerie cups, admiring the way they frame your ample bosom. Things are progressing too slow for your liking, and you come clean with your ignoble intentions.

“Please, I just want to suck you off.”

A wad of spit lands directly into your cleavage, followed by two thick fingers penetrating the lubed entrance.

“Nope.” His fingers continue to shallowly fuck your cleavage. Neither of you are being touched in the erogenous zone, but why does it feel so good? Your valley is inundated with his dribble, coating your ensemble and shifting shades to a deep cerise. Every pump of his nimble fingers between your breasts is like a promise of what your pussy is going to go through. Will he fuck you hard and fast with your voice echoing across the room, making every neighbor privy of your sexual escapedes? Will he be slow and gentle, penetrate you with utmost care, soft gasps and whines only sounded to the two of you? You can never guess.

In the aphrodisiac moment, you forgot that you were supposed to take charge.

“Please, please, please! I did so much,” You take the guilt route. If Jimin was anything, he was a just and fair man. “Can’t I get that much?”

Jimin’s gaze has not left your wet cleavage. A flit of his eye makes contact with yours and goes back to the fucking - that is enough language for you to understand his needs. You bend low, and spit out a fat glob onto your chest to add to the mess he has already made. The groan that leaves him is ungodly, and he licks the spit you unloaded onto yourself, spreading it all over your expensive wear. He slurps like you released sweetened water to a parched traveller, your bosom holding all the sweetness to itself.

Gathering your thoughts is more difficult than you could ever imagine. The cloth over your nipples is completely soaked, bitten into and sticking to your skin thanks to the vacuum Jimin pulled on them. Your back has had a workout, every vertebrae bent to its maximum possibility. Chiropractors are so last year, you just have your boyfriend ravish your breasts.

“Once I’m done, you can do whatever you want.”

All of your five brain cells had to be put in action to form that sentence. The moment the words left your lips, the pressure your breasts were on had been released, but you could still feel lips against you, stretching into a snarky smirk.

“Whatever?” His grip on your waist tightens, seating you more firmly onto his taut thighs.

Whatever. That stupidly amazing word.

“Saying ‘whatever’ always lands you in trouble. Have you forgotten?” His damp lips are tracing your collarbones, nibbles whenever he felt appropriate. How does he expect you to form a damned sentence like this, the Devil on your shoulder indignantly asks. The Angel on the other has gone back in time to fetch memories filed under the term ‘whatever’, strictly saved for your quality alone-time.

The first time you told him to do ‘whatever he wants’ was fairly early into your relationship. Sex was as vanilla as the ice cream tastebud-less people liked, and none of you ever pushed it too far. A happy, drunken night with a loose-lipped confession from him.

“God, the things I want to do to you…” he had muffled into your hair, maybe not even intended for your ears to pick up.

A cheeky giggle had bubbled out of your tipsy self. “Like what, tie me up?”

If Jimin then were a color, he was a pantone pink. Blushed cheeks from the alcohol and the realization that you had caught him, airbrushed with a depth you weren’t able to put in place that early in the relationship. Wide-eyed horror was shown in its place, possibly exaggerated to add to the denial he had landed himself in.

“No no, of course, I don’t mean it like that, what ar-”

“Why not?”

The animal that awoke after confirming with you fifteen times was a force to be reckoned with. Your bra had turned into rope, wrists bound behind as he roughly squished your helpless cheeks.

“You will tell me when to stop, right?” His tongue peeked lightly, brushing your top lip, taking the perspiration away.

“Uhmf-yufh!”

“God, you’re gonna regret this baby.”

But it was exactly the opposite. You got the railing of a lifetime, heard the filthiest words that could leave the lips of such a courteous man - a side you had not expected at all. You couldn’t possibly recollect every single move he made, but what you can recollect with excruciating detail is every feeling you felt that night. It was filled with lust, with revelations of the new ways your body could bend, a night of puppetry where Jimin played you like the master your body craved. The following day was Jimin taking care of you, big puppy eyes wondering whether he took it too far. In his daze of letting go of control, he couldn’t take in your lidded stare, heaving with satisfaction - so you made sure he could witness them when he took you the next time that morning.

The other time the wretched word was mentioned was during an argument. You’re not jealous of Jimin on stage - it’s his career and you were one of the girls offering one of their kidneys to be able to catch a glimpse of him.

But your workspace? That’s where you draw the line.

She was a random worker. Some third-floor low-lying soul. You were eighth-floor premium material (the floors didn’t decide shit, but no one can tell you what skyscraper semantics you can craft in your brain). A lifeless party that even Jimin’s colorful locks couldn’t color up.

This random worker was very enamored by Jimin (as she should, the man is a whole nine-course meal). Supportive fans are not what get you jealous either.

But the limit is when placed her scrawny fingers on Jimin’s hand, drawing the glass in his grip to her lips and took a sip from it. If her lashes were fanned they could blow a man away (which is probably more than what her puny mouth could possibly do). The fume exiting your ears could have been in bright red for all you care, because every office member had been rightfully annoyed.

The whole car ride back was filled with your drunken blabbers about the different ways you could skin her. The actual victim beside you was not making a nearly big enough deal out of it, intending to let you get rid of your temper.

“She fucking knew!” Your normally clean disposition had taken its leave after the fuming temper took real estate in your brain, and you aimlessly threw your heel at some corner of the house - hungover self shall have to deal with this angry mess you’ve made. Wait, you’re an angry mess too.. “The gall she had, I should jus-”

You march towards the door, in hopes of what, you don’t know. But if you didn’t take action you’ll probably explode. Any action, just anything. You never find out though, because a strong arm slithered around your waist and halted your expedition.

“Calm down, feisty. Where are you going now?” His soothing voice, punctuated with a mocking chuckle almost quelled the fire in you. Almost.

But you’re not done being an idiot.

“To go find her for you. You’d fuck the living daylights out of her, right?”

The loudest silence you have ever encountered. Jimin’s grip on your waist tightened to the point where it could have hurt. Like he was trying to push every iota of that thought out of your body. From behind, you can hear a deep breath dragging, and somewhere in your irate head you knew you had struck a nerve, a bad one. Jimin is forced to expel any anger bubbling in him, trying to use reason with an unreasonable recipient.

“Princess, you don’t actually think I’d do that right?”

“I don’t know!” Your misplaced anger had reached the rooftops. Jimin had done nothing wrong here except try to calm an increasingly livid girlfriend. “Maybe you’d love that. Her itty-bitty waist, that whore’s outfit she had on. You call me a whore right? Maybe she’s more worthy of you!”

“Y/N.”

The timbre of his voice had completely changed. The breathy, airy aura had completely departed from your name he had just called. The lack of nicknames raised some hair at the nape of your neck, but you’re a stubborn one.

“Ugh, I don’t care.”

You tried to walk back to your room, head still reeling in a palace of inferno, burning everything that dares to intrude your path - but somehow, you had been pushed to a wall, and the eyes of the man you loved had turned feral.

If Jimin was a color, he was green - igniting with fury, anger repressed in dark shadows that never made the light of the day until pushed - but you pushed all right. And now released from its shackles, it has surrounded you and slammed you against the wall - and you have nowhere to go.

“You’re my whore. Is that a complaint from my stupid, stupid whore?”

The only joint you’re free to move is your neck, and your gratuitous self decided to rebel with whatever degree of freedom you have. Turning your face away to not meet his seething eyes, you continue your rebel-without-a-cause tantrum.

“Whatever.” you carped out.

Again, with that stupid word, you had signed your fate for the night.

Usually, you can express your feelings. Be it pain or pleasure (sometimes the two packed in one), you could wail it out to the heavens and respite would follow.

Usually, you can see the torments laid out on you. Jimin’s lithe body performing every obscene spell he invoked is a treat for your eyes. He treats your body like an artisan, using any medium to paint his art on you.

But that day, you were stripped of them both, and made to realize what a privilege they were.

Mouth stuffed with your bunched up panties, eyes blinded by his tie of the evening, you could only rely on the sensors on your skin to somehow predict what was going to be done to you. And you failed. Every single time. Every thwack fell on a new area. Every teasing touch tickled you at a new place. Nothing could begin to prepare you for his next move and you couldn’t keep up with his tameless pace.

He made you beg through the makeshift gag, beg to let you come, then beg to stop coming, beg for every orifice of yours to be filled by his seed and then beg to get cleaned by him. With the first rays of morning sunlight, language was an illusion, time was an out-of-reach concept, and all you knew was the worshipping of last night.

Whatever is a word. Whatever is mean. Whatever is filthy. Whatever is nailing you into the bed and rendering you immobile for the entire day. Whatever may just be a word to anyone, but to you it is what has you losing sense of reality, giving in to a phantasm of your wildest dreams.

A wet tap on your cheek brings you back from you imagining the past - the fingers that were fucking your cleavage are squishing your cheeks, bringing your attention back from all your dirty memories to the present - to create another memory to add to your folder.

If Jimin is a color, he is the darkest of all blacks. This is where everything pious comes to meet its sordid end. His sultry gaze is reading your eyes, searching for where you got lost, which shared memories of passed time made you melt into the puddle that you are right now.

“I said, don’t you remember? ‘Whatever’?”

Let’s see. You don’t have work tomorrow. You don’t have any commitments. You don’t have to meet anyone.

So there is no reason for you to be able to move.

“Hmmmmn, I don’t seem to recall - you could remind me.”

Dark, dark chuckles from such a cherubic face. You flounder off his lap to shuck your (his) pants away, revealing the matching maroon garter belt set. The whole outfit is an ode to Jimin’s mid performance transformation, the one that made many people’s hearts skip a quick beat. His slim, cinched waist, the flared pants flowing down his frame were one for the books, and you’d like to think your rendition has its place too.

Giving him a quick spin, you attempt to get down to business - but Jimin pulls you back on his lap. Without the pants, you can feel it - his hard, thick cock straining against the tough jean fabric and still making its presence known.

“Tell me more, baby. What did you like?”

The man was a sucker for your praise.

You were a sucker for the whole man.

But the sucking will probably have to wait.

“I loved your expressions. You’re so sexy on stage, fuck. Going around and giving bedroom eyes to the world.”

His hand gripping you ass gives it a quick pinch, but voice just let out a lazy hum to get you to continue.

“The choreography,”, your whisper is strained, “you dance like you fuck baby. So sensual, so sexy.”

You lick a stripe up his neck, from his artistic collarbones to the back of his ear, the sensitive spot that makes him hiss is arousal. You stay there, wanting to whisper the next few lines. The world didn’t need to know your thirst for this.

“You know my favorite part?”

“Oh, tell me.” His voice is hitting lower and lower in pitch, much like it’s hitting you lower and lower in your body.

You place the hand framing his face on his neck - the same one you want to cover in blooms of purple and red, lightly squeezing, letting him preen under the pressure. The tightness has Jimin’s head falling back on the headrest, and you can feel his pulse hastening to accommodate for the lacking oxygen in his stream.

Letting go of his throat, and pleased to see the lightest indentation on his beautiful pale skin, you snake your hands downward.

“Na, na, na,” Inching slowly towards your end goal, you whisper the tune into his ear, “na na na, na, na na”, covering every part with an indulgent languish, “pick your filter”.

Your hand finally reaches its destination - you grab his bulge and squeeze the hardness, making Jimin buck his hips against your palm.

“Namaneul damabwa.”

It’s a low whisper from his lips, but even in the gravelly sound you can hear how melodious he is, how the song rolls off of his tongue and was made for his vocal color. The whisper is laced with lust, with want, with desire, all the feelings you portrayed for him in his performance.

That, and in life in general.

You shuffle and sit to the side, simultaneously unbuttoning his jeans to get him some relief for the ache he had going on. Finally, you acquiesce and free his dick from its cages.

Every time you see him is a wonder to you. Hard, ridged, the right amount of veins to stimulate the walls of your cunt. Head leaking from the eons of teasing you’ve been doing, right from the text you sent to seconds ago. You bend down to clean him up, tasting the saltiness of his seed that has coated the head. Jimin’s lips are facing the brunt of your deeds - his teeth have found near permanent residence in its plushness, digging deep to keep from moaning too early, from giving you the pleasure. He is going to make you work.

Well, you must get to work.

Slowly, slowly, you dip your head in further, sucking lightly with each move, tongue tracing every vein on his dick. As you move your head back up, Jimin’s hand pushes into your back, making it arch further, and then you go down on his dick. His finger lightly follows the curve of your back, from your upper back all the way to the band of your lace panties.

Hooking a finger underneath the lace fabric of your panty that had disappeared in between your mounds of flesh, he pulls at it - hard. Your throat revolts against the intrusion as you gag, and the fabric presses into your clit. The concentrated abrasion turns into pleasure - he uses it to arch your back further, and bring your ass closer so that he can-

Smack!

The spank sends you forward and you choke on his dick further, throat giving in to his hardness.

“So good for me baby. Look at that ass.” He grabs one cheek, bubbled with the way your panties are now, squeezing and testing the firmness of your glutes.

Your plans of torturing him are shot; the Devil on your shoulder is strangely mute. Awakening the brat, you slip a hand under and toy with his balls, pulling back to provide your throat some recess. Your saliva mixed with his precum is an gushing mess, glistening on his balls and now coating your palms as you play with light squeezes - the existing stiffness caused by your teasing arousal mixed with your playful fingers make Jimin buck into your mouth, releasing a delicious groan in the process.

A second spank is a warning, either you increase your pace or reap some serious consequences. You consider the consequences; they are very compelling. You could end with delicious marks of ownership from this delicious man. But he deserves the best suck of his life, and you’re going to do just that.

Hollowing your mouth, you go further down, till his head is poking an uninvaded point in your throat, and Jimin lets out a surprising note. A groan, no, a roar, but a tinge of whine mixed in it, like the pleasure is too much for him.

You continue to swallow around, hand pumping the length you couldn’t take in, interlarded with swipes on his tight balls, leaving Jimin to be a heaving mess. Your ass is not faring better, bearing the brunt of his replies. You’re positive his fingerprints are imprinted on your asscheek, and one sit on his phone can unlock it. The line of your panties is drenched with your sopping wetness and lodged between the lips.

“God, I’m so close baby, just a little more.”

You would fervently nod in acceptance to whatever demand he places; in this position, he could ask you for the world and you would have it at his disposal. But what stops you are his ringed fingers lodged in your hair, pushing you in further, determined to spill deep in your throat, to the point where you don’t even have to swallow to get everything down.

“Fuck, such a good girl for me.” Jimin appraises how deep he is going, how your throat is accommodating him and quivering around his length. Bunching your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, he stops them from obstructing his vision - the view of you struggling to take him in, toiling to keep the need to breathe at bay while you tend to his needs, worshipping his dick like its the last meal you’ll ever get - your desperate adulation takes him over the brink.

Jimin erupts into your mouth; an ungodly amount at that. It is the hardest he’s come in a while, and given your lifestyle, that’s saying something. Even a cum-hungry whore like you can’t possibly swallow that much in one go, and you are forced to let the globs dribble down his now-softening member. The two of you are heaving, catching a breath - completely different circumstances but the same result.

The way you’re looking at him right now; his dick is already twitching to go for a second lap. Dilated pupils staring back, like you were at the receiving end of the orgasm - you are staring at him like he hung every star in the sky. Strings of cum are leaking out of the corners of your lips, ones he really wants to lap up with his tongue. Instead, you daintily dab it away - as innocent as pecking stray drops of ice cream off your mouth.

You look at him with teasing eyes. “Want a taste baby?”

Running your tongue along the mess you (or he) made, you gather the remnant cum that didn’t go into you, and instead flooded his groin. Straddling back onto his lap, you go in for a kiss but stop halfway.

Jimin is looking, waiting with lust hungry eyes. Slightly pained by the pause, he whines.

“What?”

“Open your mouth.”

From a height, you let his cum and your spit drop into his mouth, a groan of satisfaction emanating as Jimin’s tongue accepts it with great delight. He tastes his juices, they somehow feel sweeter coming from your mouth. He pushes the glob you dropped on his tongue against the roof of his mouth, letting every taste bud bathe in relish. When he’s sucked all flavor out of the globule he swallows it. On opening his eyes and landing back from heaven to earth, he sees you admiring his adam’s apple, the way it bobbed when he swallowed your offering.

Jimin’s eyes trace your current state; you look beautiful. The strappy red lingerie wet from Jimin’s treatment perfectly showcases your peaked nipples, ready for another round of torture. His shirt, through all this has managed to stay hanging on your shoulders. The curves of your sinful waist accentuated by the ribbons of the wear, like roads down a windy path, every ribbon vanishing into their destination, between your curvaceous thighs.

Slipping his fingers under the band, he decides he has not played with the lingerie enough, tugging it up once again - a sharp inhale and you’re moving along with it, upward to balance between the point of pain and pleasure. Jimin makes sure you don’t tip in favor of one. Grabbing you by the neck, Jimin harshly pulls you down into a deep kiss.

He’s done waiting, done watching you take the reins. His tongue tells you that you now can only react to his doings. Deepening the kiss, you let your mind walk places. Back to his performance, his stage presence, the aura he exudes when he is in his element. His sinful body melding to the flow of the beat, like the music was made to his movement - his piercing gaze that could leave an insentient camera with blushed cheeks - but a sharp bite pulls you right back to the present to remind you that this is also Jimin in his complete element. Pillowy lips, incandescent with every brush, sucked and nipped with fervor. But it still didn’t satisfy. It wasn’t nearly enough. Starved, you wanted to scream at every imperceptible air pocket between the two of you - as if you knew in your soul they were guilty of keeping you away.

Jimin pulls away, and his words shut you down before the whine leaves you.

“About that ‘whatever’…” his sinister eyes are a window to his brain churning something unimaginable to close the night - sinister in uppercase. Make it bold. Underline that shit. That’s him.

In the bat of an eye, you are face down on the sofa - Jimin’s rock hard thighs are straddling you, making sure you can handle his weight. In all the coarseness, he takes care of the smallest of things. An untimely smile creeps up on your face at the thought, the tender show of affection amidst the rough push and pull affecting your immersion, but you can’t say you don’t like it.

Feeling a rough jerk on your shoulder, you try to look back, just in time to receive Jimin’s ravenous gaze; he looks at you like he will eat you alive, and by the end of the night you plan on having just that. Pulling back your now-unbuttoned shirt and bunching its ends, he anchors you to the position of his choice by tying your hands behind.

Smelling a line up your neck all the way up to your hair, he briefly pauses to ask “Okay?”

Your tiny nod is enough for Jimin to carry on with whatever godless plan he has chalked out for you.

“I hope you had your fun. Because I’m not going easy on you.”

Light banter could cause no trouble. Atleast, not more than you already have. “When have you ever?”

Flashbacks of the blossoming days of your relationship flicker in Jimin’s mind, their fugacious presence a telling sign of how long it has been. Looking downward, he can only thank his alcohol-induced blabbering of that night as that is the reason he can enjoy the view he has right now.

“Maybe I should take it easy?” His tongue flits across your neck, too soft for your liking, torturous like his liking.

His fingers are playing with the straps and your now exposed upper back. It’s always been a favorite place of his. The whole expanse looks resplendent when he is done tasting you. Maroon and purple florets on your beautiful, glowing skin. And then you purposely wear dresses to show it all off, to show who your heart belongs to. He loves that about you.

You gyrate lightly, snapping him out of his daze, begging him to take you hard and fast. “Jimin, please.” a low drawl leaves you as you try to not slobber all over the cushion.

Jimin shifts lower to straddle your thighs. Snaking his hand between your legs, he finds your clit and plays with it, every press releasing a different sound from different depths of your throat. A particularly low grunt appears when he slips two fingers into your channel with smooth ease, and pushes you up from the inside.

“Ass up for me.”

His fingers stay lodged inside as you raise your hips to obey him, pulling you up further and further till he is satisfied with your position. God, your pussy looks wrecked. With every pump of his fingers you gush our more liquid, and Jimin gathers the escaping drops on this tongue.

“So perfect for me, this hole.” You can feel the cold metal of his rings drawing circles inside you as he prepares you to take his cock. His tongue, drawing completely different characters is too slow for your liking - he seems to be more satisfied in drinking your cum dripping from his fingers instead of paying attention to your throbbing clit. Seconds go by, several hinting moans of dissatisfaction go by, but the Devil on your shoulder seems to have returned and is asking for more. A hip raise, that’s all. His tongue will be right where you want.

What you got instead was a sharp bite on your already battered ass - Devil, hey, where did you go? “Behave.” He grunts against your pussy, and a fresh wave of arousal escapes you with a third finger making its way in. “Don’t like it? Too,” Smack! “Fucking.” Smack! “Bad.”

The last spank hit you hard, leaving your cunt soaked to the core. He is trying to get a rise out of you, and you are falling for it. Your smarting skin is at its breaking point, but let’s not pretend like you don’t want this either.

“Baby please, I’m so close.” You’re close to tears with how long you’ve been this turned on. Maybe Jimin will have a change of heart seeing you like this.

“Don’t.”

Well maybe not.

He’s using your hole like playdough - for his fancy, with no end goal in sight. He doesn’t seem to want you to come anytime soon and it is bothering you to no end. The tightening coil in your belly is almost painful at this point - but he doesn’t seem to want to let up anytime soon.

“You taste so sweet baby, almost don’t want to let you come, so you keep dripping like this.”

His fingers curl into you to hit that spot, and God, you’re seeing stars right now. Curling up your fists into a ball and trying to keep the threatening tsunami at bay, you jerk into his mouth and continue to sway to the tune his fingers play inside you. If desperation had a poster girl, they could take your photo right now.

“If you let me come I -ohhh- I will- I will give you more.” Your words are broken, every push into your cunt halting your flow of speech.

A split second later you are empty. He’s pulled away from you, and you think the finger-fucking torture you were going through was almost better than this. Your walls flutter in empty anguish.

“Better keep your promise then.” Finally, you hear Jimin shuffling behind, but your muscles feel too alive and too dead at the same time. At crossroads, you are unable to get yourself to move, to twist or turn and witness the glory of him, the scrunch of his features, the grit of his pronounced jaw, his lips heaving a sigh as he pushes his girthy self into your leaking hole.

Jimin’s forehead is lined with sweat, jaws hurting from the tight clench he had trying to not nut into you too soon. Now they revolt in pain, ready to pass on their trouble to his dick and release into you the moment he fits himself in. But he held off; he had plans for you - long plans.

As he slowly pulls himself out, you can’t help but mewl at the pleasure your walls are feeling, with every ridge of his cock pressing all the right spots inside you, the snug fit when he’s pulled out all the way only leaving the head inside you. Then, you can’t help but yell, expressing a mixture of anguish and pleasure when his hips snap to push into you in one swoop, hitting deep inside you. With your ass high up in the air, his balls smack your engorged bud, sending shockwaves throughout your body and clenching the hold you have on his dick.

“Fuck baby, you feel fucking tight. You’re so close?” Jimin’s voice is strained as well; the lack of mocking in his tone tells you he is close as well.

“Ki-Kiss me, please.” The voice that leaves you is so foreign, so unknown. The fucked out woman speaking in your stance has no spatial or temporal comprehension. You don’t even realize how you are put on your back, now a lucky witness to Jimin’s nimble figure pushing back into you as he leaned over to slot his lips on yours.

The kiss was explicit, it was rough, it would put to any kiss you’ve shared before to shame. Deep in throes of pleasure, his mouth is chasing yours. Your hands are still bound; a light fight against the restrain tells you you don’t have a chance. Instead, you suck his plush lip in, swiping your tongue across his cherry petals that are rushing with blood because of you. Dormant volcanoes across the world could erupt with the blaze of your merging lips, it is scorching hot.

If Jimin is a color, he is a rich wine - deep and passionate. He puts his one hundred percent into whatever he does, be it skilled singing, adept dancing or simply fervent kissing. He gives it his all.

Jimin’s skillful hips move in every way he wishes - and your pussy is thankful for that. Rolling in deep, he tests the stretch of your walls, before pistoning into you with zeroed-in precision, sole focus to get you to come with him. The effort he was putting in could be seen in his abs - they have tightened with exertion, and with a light sheen on sweat, look absolutely delectable.

Letting your hands roam, you bring Jimin’s face into your neck where you can hear every single breath, every hiss, every groan - that you could record and keep in your memory. With one hand tugging his tresses, and the other hand drawing paths on his back with your nails, you hear the sounds you want to. Jimin sharply bites your ear, and the shockwaves of pleasure send you tipping.

There’s layers to the pleasure you are experiencing right now, your orgasm hitting you in ebbs and flows. Right when you think you can finally return back to ground, the high tide pulls you back into the water for another stream of pleasure. It feels like eternity when you finally hit the land, and even then the loose sand makes you falter, threatens to send you back into the ocean.

Jimin’s pace is faltering, and he spills soon after. Hot, heavy breaths tickle under your ear, as both of you feel the sheer intensity of the orgasm. Him on you, your hearts are aligned, and you can feel the beats fighting each other for dominance until they soften down.

Ripples of energy flow out of the both of you, elevating the temperature around the two of you. If you didn’t have your eyes closed you’d say literal rolls of steam are emanating from the way you both are heaving. You slowly regain your senses, twitching hands trying to remember what it is that hands even do.

A shiver runs through your spine when you hear a grunt so close to your ear, only to realize Jimin is in the same position as you are in. Even without looking, you can guess what his expression is. Void of any edge, the softness of his facial features must have made their return, with crinkled eyes and a light frown on his beautiful pouty lips, he probably looks like an innocent caricature of the man that stood behind you moments ago. Letting your palm rest on his head, you beckon him to get up.

If Jimin is a color, he is the pinkness best portrayed by his puffy cheeks at this moment. A childlike glow, a guileless visage. He looks at you with such adoration, like you are the only desire in his world, and everything else can be damned.

You don’t want to break this silence but you cheekily add, “You didn’t even get me naked. Like this a bit too much eh?”

Dark clouds mar the pink and turn it into a deep, sultry carmine - the shift in his color noticeably brings your temperature down by a few degrees.

“Cute. You think I’m done with you.”

He is the whole palette, and you can pick your filter.

Thank you for making it to the end! Let me know what you think! And you can find more of my writing at my masterlist here!

#bangtansorciere #bangtanhq #bangtancentralstation #ficswithluv #bangtaninn #bts smut #jimin smut #park jimin smut #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #bangtanuniversity

845 notes · View notes

inhuman-obey-me · 3 years

Text

Melody of Revenge

Word Count: 2.4k Description: Everyone knows not to mess with Lucifer Morningstar. Some, however, make the mistake of going after his family instead. Part of the A Demon's Nature series. Lucifer was next, and this ended up getting really long, so uh ... yeah. Can be found on AO3 here. content warning: torture, so much torture, blood, body horror/mutilation

Fear and intimidation. Lucifer knew how to use both effectively, striking terror into any and all who looked upon him. The Avatar of Pride rarely had to remind others of just who he was, but every now and then, someone decided to step out of line. It couldn’t be helped -- imbeciles could be found wherever beating hearts or souls resided.

Tonight, however, he was dealing with a very particular kind of imbecile. One that had crossed a line so gravely that he had planned an entire torture routine in his mind as he made his way through the halls of the Demon Lord’s Castle. Flames of anger licked his insides as he made his way to the dungeons, but he had to keep his rage under control. Lucifer always had to be in control, every action and word deliberate and planned. He didn’t have a choice to be anything less.

“Barbatos.” He greeted the loyal butler and friend, who stood at the entrance of a particular hall of cells.

“Greetings, Lucifer.” The usual polite smile alighted his lips, though a knowing look gleamed in his eyes. “Are you sure you want to handle this one?”

“Absolutely.” He responds firmly, immediately. Barbatos usually had the pleasure of torturing those who crossed the Devildom, and he took great delight in it -- far more than even Lucifer would. After all, Lucifer found torture and punishment as a means to an end, a form of discipline.

Barbatos simply did it for fun.

“Then by all means,” the royal servant bowed slightly, gesturing with one arm towards the dark hall. “She’s all yours.” With that, he left the dungeons, having a great many other tasks to attend to for the day -- though couldn’t help leaving with a melodic, “Have fun.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of Lucifer’s lips. Oh, he planned to make this a very enjoyable time indeed. Taking a deep breath -- making sure that he was in control -- he dropped his glamour to reveal more of his demon form and walked forward to unlock one of the metal cell doors. It creaked open, allowing for the sounds of muffled screams to leave the dark room.

“Hello, Abyzou.”

The protests suddenly stopped, a chill seeming to settle in the air. Lucifer slowly lit the torches along the dungeon’s walls, bathing the room in a hellish orange light. There, in the middle of the cell, sat the traitor, bound and gagged. Her serpentine eyes looked up at Lucifer with a mix of fear and anger, but she otherwise remained silent and still.

“What’s wrong? Suddenly decided it was a good time to be quiet?” His voice is calm. Too calm. He eases his long coat off of his shoulders, hanging it on a hook by the door. Gloved hands begin to roll up his sleeves as he turns to look at the other demon again, a sigh leaving him. He stepped forward, and with a yank removed the gag from her mouth. “Is that better?”

Abyzou coughed, spitting to the side as she flexed her jaw after it being bound for so long. He allowed her to adjust -- he was a demon of patience, after all.

“Lucifer … “ She begins with his name, spoken with a certain kind of reverence. “I didn’t realize you would be visiting me here.”

“You didn’t?” The surprise in his voice is almost genuine. “Strange, I figured you would have been expecting me any day now, considering the reason you’re here in the first place.”

Her eyes widened for a moment before she directed her gaze elsewhere, not wanting to look upon the greater demon. There was a hint of shame in her expression, but it gave way to a twisted smile as she shook her head. “I see . . .”

“Do you?” He speaks sharply, his hatred for her beginning to show. He grabbed her jaw with one hand, forcing her to look up at him. “Do you see, Abyzou? Or are you still trying to play innocent?”

She hissed as his fingertips pressed into her skin, the red leather of his gloves saving her from the wrath of his claws -- for now. She stared into those magnetic ruby eyes and all the power they held, all of the destruction they could unleash, all of the pain they could bring.

“But was I wrong?” Abyzou knew her end was imminent, especially if the Avatar of Pride himself had requested to punish her personally. So what was the use in being anything but honest? “Was I truly wrong, Lord Lucifer?” The reverence once held in her voice was gone, replaced with mockery. She shifted in her bonds, leaning into the hand that held her jaw. “You know that the Devildom is stronger and better than the other realms, and yet we’re forced to grovel to the likes of angels!” Stretching out her neck, she continued with a jeer. “Or do you and your brothers miss having those white wings and halos for yourselves that much?”

Lucifer roughly pushed her face away from him, hand releasing her jaw. He took a step back, eyes full of cold fury still focused on the other demon. His gaze then swept the cell, taking note of the various torture instruments on display -- but grinned when he saw that Barbatos made sure to include the absolute essential. A vinyl player, the perfect record already in place to set the mood. He set it up to play, allowing the first notes to spill into the air before resuming his interrogation.

“So, you thought yourself better than the others who had agreed to His Royal Highness’ vision?” Lucifer begins to tug at the seam of one of his gloves, steadily peeling it off his hand. “Of course, we knew that plenty of the nobles had their concerns, and many voiced them, yourself included.” He sets the removed glove to the side, now beginning to take off the other. “And yet, you still decided that you would try and work against us behind the scenes,” The second glove joins its pair. “And, what I’m really trying to understand -- truly, I am -- is why you thought it would be a good idea to try and undermine the Seven Lords?”

Abyzou shifted in place, her earlier burst of bravado dwindling, and goosebumps rose along her skin as she listened to the music he decided to play. It was common knowledge to never get on Lucifer’s bad side, but she had taken the risk -- and now she would be answering for it. She lowered her head, staring at the cold stone floor, suddenly finding the way the orange light from the flames bounced and shimmered of great interest. “I . . . “ She started, trying to choose her next words carefully. “I wasn’t trying to undermine you or your brothers. I was doing what I thought would be best … including for you all! Can’t you see that I was trying to protect you, protect us?”

A piercing, incredulous laugh left Lucifer’s lips, his deep voice sending chills down Abyzou’s spine. He picked up the spool of twisted rope and approached her once more, the steady clack clack from his shoes’ heels echoing throughout the cell, mingling with the slowly increasing crescendo.

“Aby, Aby, Aby . . .” Lucifer clicked his tongue before he roughly collected a fistful of her long raven locks, eliciting a sharp cry as her head was wrenched back to look up at him. “That was your first mistake.”

The Avatar of Pride was nothing short of an expert when it came to stringing others up from the ceiling, though in this particular case, he wanted to make sure it hurt. The imprisoned demon thrashed and squirmed, but he was able to lift and tie her up with ease, making sure that the rough jute cut into her scaly skin just short of making her bleed -- for now. He tied the rope up to her waist, then put each wrist in a metal clasp that was chained to the floor, stretching out her arms to either side.

“You thought you needed to protect us? A sweet gesture,” He derided her, a claw coming up to slowly trace from her chin down through her cheek, drawing blood as it broke skin. “And an absolute lie. Your little act had every intention to put my brothers at risk, in harm’s way … “ A second claw followed the first, creating a ribbon of shredded skin. Abyzou hissed at the pain, biting back anything else in an effort to save some sense of dignity. “ … and you had the audacity to think you’d get away with it. Truly incredible.” The faux amazement in his tone felt like thorns in her ears, and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to look into his face.

“What’s the matter, Abyzou? Shouldn’t you be used to being in this kind of position, or at least … something not too far from it?” Lucifer smirked, delighted to see her eyes shoot back open, bright yellow irises staring at him in disbelief. “If I remember correctly … Solomon had you tied up in front of his temple, and by your hair, at that.”

That riled her up. Forked tongue lashed out to flick at his face, a series of curses leaving her lips soon after. Fangs bared, she hissed, “Don’t you dare bring up that bastard! To think that I wasn’t allowed to lay a hand on him the moment he stepped into our realm. He deserves to have his neck twisted, but you … !”

“But I . . ?” Lucifer took out a handkerchief from his back pocket, nonchalantly wiping away at where her tongue and spit landed on his visage. “Please, do go on.”

“You … you, all of you, let him in with open arms! Even after knowing everything he’s done, how he’s treated our own kind! I don’t care if you say he’s changed, HE NEEDS TO BE TORN LIMB FROM LIMB!” She screamed, thrashing about in her binds, chains rattling as she struggled.

“Temper, temper, Aby.” Oh, that sadistic, pointed grin. A wave of euphoria washed over him, seeing her like this. “You have no room to talk, considering what you’ve done.” He watched as the blood from her face dropped and dripped to the floor, a hum leaving his lips.

“Perhaps you need some more reminding of just how badly you fucked up this time.” He raised a hand, chanting a curse that caused a swirl of glowing energy to encircle both of her hands. It weaved through her clenched fists, forcing them open, and wrapped like binding around each finger. She cried out in pain as she felt the magical binding began to gradually crush her fingers, cutting off circulation knuckle by knuckle.

“You tried to have some of my brothers poisoned,” All five claws of one hand pierced the skin of her upper arm, retracted, pierced again a bit lower, and repeated -- gradually making way down her entire arm. More and more blood began to drip, the usual greenish hue of her scaly skin now awash in dark red. “You tried to gather enough support to attack them, because you were too much of a coward to come face any of us yourself. Though, it’s laughable that you thought you could do damage to us in the first place.”

“I … I’m sorry!” She knew any apologies here were useless, but the pain that she now felt at every point in her body was becoming too agonizing to ignore. “I felt like I was left with no choice!” She felt her vision get hazy, the smell of her blood and the sharp strikes of pain -- from the rope, from his claws, from the curse -- overwhelming her senses. And that damned music, it was driving her insane.

“No choice?” Lucifer scoffed, his claws now repeating the treatment on her other arm. “Abyzou, you did have a choice.” His brows furrowed, wings stretching out as he brought his face close to her upside-down one. “You just chose the wrong one.”

Tears stung her eyes, the magic binding on her hands crushing her fingers until there would be nothing left. She could hear her blood drip in puddles on the floor, and yet the bleeding wasn’t enough for her life to end anytime soon.

“Please … please, Lord Lucifer … just finish me already.” She begged, though deep down she knew her cries for mercy would be futile.

Lucifer’s usual stoic expression settled on his features. He watched her for a moment, then turned around and walked to the table by the door where he had laid his gloves. A cloth was folded neatly next to them, which he took to wipe the blood off of his hands, murmuring a spell to help fully rid his skin of any that remained. Then, he pulled his gloves back on, tugging on the seams to make sure that they were on properly, fingers flexing in the red leather.

“I’m sure that’s what you would like, Abyzou.” His voice is eerily low, his back still turned to the demoness. She could hear him setting something up, but was unable to make out what it was.

Then he started humming, a haunting sound added to the sharp strings and bellowing percussion.

He dragged the table closer to her suspended body, stepping aside to show what was left on it.

She nearly choked. There, next to the record player, was another similar device -- but this one wasn’t for playing.

“However, I have no intention of giving you a quick end. You’ll remain here, like this, until every last drop of blood leaves your body, and your hands are thoroughly crushed, and those ropes cut through you. But, you won’t be completely alone.”

He gingerly raises the needle, setting it onto the record at the correct position. Resuming his humming, he hit the Record button, and the disc began to spin, the needle etching everything it heard into the vinyl. “We’ll have a lovely keepsake to remember you by. Ah, and don’t worry … this is all using magic, so it will document everything up until your last breath.”

Abyzou tried to thrash about with what strength she had left, but in the end only caused herself pain, the chains shackled to her wrists ringing and clanging.

“Farewell, Abyzou.”

With that, Lucifer left the cell, the large metal door shutting to a close behind him. He made his way back through the dungeon halls, a smirk on his lips as he heard a loud, wailing shriek in the distance.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me lucifer #om! lucifer #obey me fics #obey me swd #demons being demons #writings #series: a demon's nature #yeah this gets pretty descriptive in parts so!! be warned #also feel free to listen to heart of darkness by succession studios with this -- or also lucifer's waltz or queen of the damned #can you tell who my favorite is lmao #decided to post directly to this blog now #the all encompassing [mod] cosmos

310 notes · View notes

mergeman · 3 years

Text

My New Ride

Five more months, that’s all I have left as Jack. He’s been such a delicious host; his spectral energy has sated me for the last four years. Now what was once a spectrum has diluted into muted primary colors that no longer satisfy my hunger. Don’t get me wrong I also give something back, not all the energy I consume is used; the shit leftover can be used to physically influence the host.

Take Jacky boy here, when I first met him, he was a senior in college. Just another average evangelical, toss a penny anywhere south of the Mason-Dixon line and it will hit one. To the outsider Jacky presented as a timid, underweight, nerd, but I saw the kaleidoscope of energies that infused his being. So, I took him, fed on those scrumptious auroras, then used the waste to build his body. The consumption of his empathy, patience and humility causes massive changes to the psyche. Now Jack is a narcissistic but charming asshole willing to screw anyone over just to advance his lot.

I couldn’t be any prouder of the man I created, but all good things must end. If I corrupt his essence any further, it will intertwine with mine causing us to become one. So, to keep living I started to scope out my options. Unfortunately, not much is available in the business world, the humans here are naturally corrupt themselves without any undue influence. As a passenger searching was difficult, Jack only hung out with petty sycophants who boosted his already enormous ego. I was getting despondent with each passing day, every person Jack encountered was woefully inept and would not be able to sustain me for long. I was so depressed that I almost missed the new neighbor that bought a condo in the same building as my penthouse. He was perfect! A full prism of colors radiated off this specimen, and to top it off he was easy on the mortal eyes as well.

Starvation was overwhelming me; I hadn’t fed in seven weeks and I knew that this new subject would be my next host. My hunger even affected Jack; he had become infatuated with this new tenant to the point of stalking him. Jack used his influence to dig up information on the new tenant, soon he had his name (Xylon), age (32), career (Charity Organizer), and even which gym he frequented. With this material he started to integrate himself into Xylon’s life, first ‘casually’ meeting him at the gym and becoming buddies, then later he got Xylon a contract to work with the charity division of his firm. My time with Jack was soon to expire, to make the jump both subjects should be naked and ideally in physical contact. The one big hurdle was that Xylon came with a long-term boyfriend, Jack though was not deterred by this, he wanted Xylon, and Jack always gets his way. After pulling a few strings, Xylon showed up at our penthouse bemoaning that he had found evidence of his boyfriends’ infidelity. I could feel Jack’s malicious glee that the anonymous texts had worked. Seizing the unexpected opportunity, he invited Xylon inside and offered him a drink, then another, then another. Jack was taken aback when Xylon looked into his eyes and started to kiss him deeply without any prompting.

Sexual energy infused Jack as Xlyon’s hand unbuckled his pants, slipped past his underwear to grab Jack’s hardening cock. Clothing became a burden to both men as they stumbled to the master suit. Xylon took dominance of Jack as he flipped the smaller man on his back, I could feel the steel like appendage enter through my hosts ass. I began the unpleasant process of unlinking my essence and prepping the transference. Slowly I send a tendril of myself to Xylon reaching for his nourishing spectrum. The tendril developed tiny barbs so I could hook into my newest host. My anticipation had so overwhelmed me that I didn’t notice the other presence.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Both I and Them quickly tried to retreat into our original hosts. Only it was to late, our energies had already stared to intermingle. Memories from my counterpart were bombarding me, I could feel myself loose definition as They and I were becoming one entity. I didn’t want to cease, I wanted to live, I wanted to feed, I wanted my new host. A rush of power came upon me and I channeled it into separating us. I could feel them also trying to retreat, our molecules started to unbind one by one as they and I went back to the safety of our original hosts. I was almost completely free when a new horror presented itself, in my panic I had consumed more of Jack’s corrupted soul, but I had taken to much. I was out of time with nowhere to go, Jack’s spectrum was now consuming me, and in my lapsed attention the linking to my counterpart regained strength.

Xylon was still pounding Jack’s ass, both were consumed with orgasmic bliss that they didn’t notice the physical ramifications of the internal struggle. It started at the feet where each man’s ankles were touching, the skin liquefied and started to swirl together. Sinew and cartilage detached as bones broke apart two masses of distorted flesh now supported the unaware men. The tissue started to twist and bloat as broken pieces of bone fused together to create a new more powerful appendage. The process crept up their legs, the fibers of the calves weaving together into a more robust muscle.

As the knee joint disintegrated and the nerves laid bare, They and I were using the last of our conscious effort to take our host’s excruciating pain and turn it towards pleasure. Neither man had yet to notice that from the thigh down they were one. More flesh melted as their pelvises were pulverized, Xylon’s cock pushed through the molten tissue and into Jack’s cock, stretching the sensitive gland like an overused condom. With each thrust of their fused hips the cock grew longer and girthier until the swollen, purple, mushroom head burst forth from the newly created foreskin.

A line of angry pink skin arose on Xylon, starting just above his merged cock and traveled upwards to the base of his neck. The flesh started to part opening wider as his abs and pectorals were bisected. Knowing the panic that the sight would cause We/They/I increased Xylon’s pleasure centers while simultaneously turning off his ocular nerve. The chest split through the sternum and the rib bones could be seen, as the cavity opened up like a giant maw. Jack’s arms were supporting him on the bed as the jaw like flesh wrapped around his torso enclosing them together. The internal organs made sickening squelching noises as each one found its companion. Jack’s spine detached itself wormed its way around the confusion of biofluids until it found its other half. Vertebrae unlinked with the sound of breaking branches as the two exposed nervous clusters found each other and became one. A singular spine reforged stronger and longer than what came before.

Where the shoulders met a bubbling mass of epidermis, muscle tissue and bone were coalescing into broad boulders that could support any weight. Four hands found the newly created cock and started to tug in tandem as the biceps and triceps lacerated and rejoined their strength. Fingers and thumbs melted into one another, the liquid state not lasting as new sturdier digits replaced them. Lastly their heads became like viscous slime becoming featureless as they flowed into one another. I could feel the moment that their minds touched, Jack and Xylon were suddenly thrust back into the reality of the situation. Awareness of I/They/We flooded them as they realized that these were the last few moments. I could feel Jack’s Anger/Regret/Sadness as recognition of what I had done invaded his mind. I also felt Xylon’s innate Hostility/Sorrow/Grief as what They had taken dawned on him. In their last precious moments both men were having identity crises as the WE pulled us all into ONE.

My first sensation was that of my hands gently stroking the giant shaft between my legs. Opening my eyes, I surveyed the damage, unused blood, bone, and strips of flesh covered the bedroom. Not perturbed at the grizzly sight I kept pleasuring myself with one hand while the other inspected my new nipples by giving each a slight pinch. A deep moan escaped my lips, sexual energy coursed through my new body. Abs tensed and my cock shuddered before releasing a torrent of cum that merged with the other fluids staining the room.

Satiated for the moment I became aware of a chime that indicated someone was at the door. I grabbed a towel to clean myself off then headed down the hall. Looking through the peephole I saw Xylon’s boyfriend Fitz standing there with a worried expression. Slightly annoyed I decided to open the door before Fitz could ring again. The poor twink of man started to say something but stopped as he took in the sight of my naked visage. I was shocked as well, for without the glass impediment I was able to see Fitz’s spectrum. A deep need filled me, not the hunger of the entities but something just as primal. Acting on instinct I grabbed the slack jawed younger man and pulled him into my lair. He started to protest but my mouth sealed him shut, picking him up I shoved him face first against the wall with one hand while the other pulled down his pants and underwear. My cock was hard and leaking pre as I began to spread his cheeks. With one swift movement I lifted the slight man up and impaled him on my throbbing member. I grunted as my cock took on most of his weight thrusting him up and down. I could hear him whimper as his face scraped against the wall, anything Xylon had felt had died with him, now all I wanted was fulfill this gnawing need. My balls churned and tensed, and I let out an animalistic roar as my seed shot out of me and flooded his intestines.

Lowering the hapless simpering man to the ground I could see a dark spot of corruption sprout within his spectrum. The darkness branched out touching each color while the living semen inside of Fritz entered his blood stream and spread throughout his body. The metaphysical and physical corruption reached his head at the same time, it was like a new room opened inside my mind. Suddenly I was connected to Fitz and he to me, he became an extension of myself. I looked into his eyes and found myself staring back in wonder. He/me slowly got to his feet only for another surprise to become apparent. My seed had not only connected us but had upgraded his body type from “twink” to twunk. The newly minted man approached me as He/I started to worship my body, Fitz/me asked only one question.

“What should I call you?”

“In public call me Jaxon. In private call me Master”

241 notes · View notes

ellitx · 3 years

Text

Chapter 6: Sentiment

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

previous || next

art belongs to rome

word count: 3.5k

The weather today is a kind that feels like a kiss of summer without the fiery heat of the noontime of the sun. The grass is a soft green that almost has a hint of blue and in the sky is enough pristine white cloud to show you how beautiful and perfect the sky was.

The concrete of the path was warm under your bare feet. You stopped and closed your eyes so that you could just focus on the sound. There it was, the singing of a lyre, how could anyone not say that was music?

You opened your eyes and let the daylight flood back in, bringing the perfect weather back into focus. You stretched out your arms, moaning when you heard the small sounds of your back cracking in satisfaction.

You looked down at the pile of apples on the ground, grabbing one and observing a drip of water tracing its curves. The fruit glowed rosier than they did in the day shine. The branches of each tree spread out as if so proud of the bounty they brought and the sweetness had given within each one.

It was wet and crisp when you bit into it, it broke between your teeth with a soft crunch. The lingering sound drifted around your ears, filling your heart with pleasure. Icy sweetness filled your mouth and for a moment, the world went still, as if a wave of content had drifted past and frozen the world solid.

You kept on chewing, biting until it was all gone. You went to grab another until a voice called your name.

“[Name]~”

The whiny voice of Venti reached your ears causing your hand to stop midway to get another bite of the fruit. You hummed at him to let him know you’re listening, still focused on the sweet taste lingering on your tongue.

“Stay here with me.” He pouted and patted his lap in motion for you to sit on it. The way he looked at you expectantly made you giggle and accepted his offer, not before you grabbed two apples to bring with you.

You flopped between him and laid your head against his shoulder and looked up at him with a radiant smile. “What is it?” You asked as he messed with the ribbon tied on your dress. He nuzzled on your shoulder and slithered his arms around your waist pulling you close to him.

His hair tickled your skin once he started attacking you with kisses from behind. A short gasp came from you when you felt his hand roaming under your dress. The sensation of his fingers trailing over your skin made you close your eyes tight in embarrassment as you immediately halted him by grabbing his wrist.

You looked over your shoulder with a frown decorating your face. An apple was shoved to him making him fall on his back as he groaned in pain and rubbed his nose to ease the bump.

“Ouch…” You folded your arms over your chest and pursed your lips as you pinched his arm. “O-o-ow!! [N-Name]! It hurts!” Small tears can be seen from the corner of his eyes as he pleaded for your mercy to spare him.

Huffing in exasperation, you let go of him and pulled your knees close to your chest while staring at him in skepticism. “Since when did you become such a pervert?” You mumbled and watched him fix his hat.

It was true though, Venti has never done that to you before. It just surprised you to see him become so touchy with you after what happened. You didn’t mind his kisses and hugs, but him wanting to go further was what you didn’t expect.

His spirits lowered and gently rested his head on your shoulder before whispering an apology. He just hopes you’re not so angry at him and you’re just playing around. Making you mad is the last thing he wanted.

He eyed the apple laying on the ground before taking it and wiping the fruit with his sleeve. The apple’s skin sits smoothly on his palm, the sweet taste awaiting for him to bite onto it.

It occurs to you in a fleeting thought, the apples gathered here would surely attract your little wisp friend. “By the way,” you started, catching his attention. You brought your knees closer to your chest, the arms that were wrapped around it had tightened. “I met Barbatos yesterday.”

His shoulders tensed at the familiar name, blinking at you in utter astonishment. “Y-you did?” He stammered and looked back at the red fruit in his hands to distract himself. Your head bobbed in response to his question, tilting your head towards him that he finds it rather cute.

“He actually accompanied me the whole day while you were gone…” Your mind drifted off as you absently played with the strings of his lyre, creating an improvised melody.

“I see… It’s been a long time since I’ve last seen him.” His laugh sounded rather strained. He bit his lip and looked anywhere else but you. He would be lying if he said he doesn’t feel anxious and nervous to see where this conversation is going.

“I’m really relieved to know he was well and safe. I was actually hoping the three of us could be together again, but…”

Your words sunk and you furrowed your brows, delicate hands ceasing from playing the lyre. “After you came back, he was gone all of a sudden.” He swallowed the lump that was sitting in his throat, his heart racing in each second that flies by.

A slow and deep exhale was what he did to calm himself. It took him a lot of courage to look at you and gave a reassuring smile that he’d hope it’ll work and wash away your worries.

You blinked and looked up at him in surprise when his hand caressed your head. Your eyes shining in wonder and innocent curiosity made his heart melt. He would’ve kissed you right here and right now if not for him to remind himself that you’re worried about the little elf’s whereabouts.

“He’ll come back to us. I’m sure of it.” There was amenity in his smile, a gentle and kind one you observed. It was the smile of one who soothed with ease and told you everything will be alright.

You blinked at him before giving a smile and nodding in agreement. A tired sigh was drawn from you and you fell into his lap, facing his stomach. “I’m just worried if Barbatos is angry at me.” Your muffled words didn’t go unnoticed by him as he raised his brow at you.

“How so?” Slender fingers played with the hem of your ribbon tied to your hair while he paid attention to you, taking in your sweet voice inside his head. “I mean when I told him to stay put he doesn’t want to listen. I don’t mind that he follows me everywhere, but I-I was supposed to dress!”

He almost choked after hearing what you have said. His whole face was flushed, remembering the time how he badly wanted to be with you while he was in his original form. He can feel your hold on him tightened and buried your face even further onto his stomach.

“He was also eyeing me from afar, so I don’t know if he was glaring at me or not…” That was it. His shoulders were shaking from either embarrassment or amusement. Everything around him felt still and quiet like the world had turned frozen in a minute.

He could only focus on how warm his cheeks are and your face pressed against him. His brain almost short-circuited once your digits were teasingly trailing from his chest. Your middle and index finger start a walking motion until they’ve reached his arm, drawing some figures on it.

Venti’s eyes flickered whilst he covered his own mouth to hide his blushing face from you, even though you weren’t even looking at him. However, curiosity got the best of him. He wanted to know more what you think of his wisp form and wanted to indulge himself a bit with your presence next to him.

“He’s just worried about your safety.” You shifted your body letting your back rest against the ground and looked up at him. Your eyes would wander to observe his features, absently staring at him until he called your name to bring you out from your tranced state.

You reached for his braided hair and played with the tips, the sharp ends brushing your skin that made you want to take off his hair tie and redo his braids again. “You sound so sure about it.” You stated as you lift yourself to sit properly next to him.

“That’s because I’m absolutely sure of it.” His lips brushed your temple, giving it a small peck before smiling at you. You puffed your cheeks to express your slight vexation of how nonchalant he is about Barbatos.

Is he not worried about him? Why does he seem unperturbed that the little elf wasn’t here? You’ve known them for a long time now and the two of them are always together side by side. It feels different seeing them far apart from each other…

He was taken aback when you scooted forward from your seat, your faces together were so close he could feel your breathing brushed his skin. Your intent gaze made him nervous that he had suddenly lost the ability of speech.

His mouth is bone dry, letting out a shaky breath when he feels your chest pressed against him with your hands clutching on his shoulders. Your lips moved near to his ears just as you whispered, “Are you hiding him from me again?”

The moment he realized he misinterpreted your actions, your words, your expression formed; he scoffed at himself for assuming such things. You saw the shock plastered on his face before it was gone in a second.

An amused smile was present on your face, guessing you were right after all. A feeling of triumph filled your system, it’s really amusing to see him show this kind of face to you. You’ve never seen him look this surprised before and you’re just so proud of yourself you were able to finally tease him at last.

You stifled down your giggles and brushed the tear that fell from your face as you pinched his cheeks to wipe out the frown. “I’m just kidding. But if you ever did that, I won’t forgive you.”

Venti glanced over, the corner of his lips fighting a smile and his eyebrows slightly raised. Your mirthful giggles had halted when you saw how his eyes glinted with mischief. That playfulness visage was already spreading from his front and you have to look away before he could do anything to you.

Unluckily, he tackled you on the ground, the edges of his mouth tugging upwards that formed into a smirk that made your heart race. You sensed your whole body was heating up and you might have melted right in there when he grabbed your wrist and placed it above your head.

You knew you were already in trouble from the first you started teasing him, the friskiness lurking on his lips and eyes wasn’t hard to be overlooked, even a child can observe it without difficulty.

“Oh? And if I did, what would you do about it, love?” His face was dangerously close to your neck, his warm respiration that had unknowingly caused your body to titillate. Curse this man for making you feel like this so easily.

You pushed his shoulders away to create space between the two of you as you pout, your whole face was so warm that he even had the audacity to invade your personal space to make it worse. “I’m going to ignore you if you seriously hide him! How dare you hide such a cute creature from me!”

“Hm…” A sharp gasp slipped from your lips when he tilted his head and kissed your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “So he’s cuter than me?” He asked while his hand rested on your hip.

“O-of course! Much cuter than you. So small and fluffy and his little jingles are really adorable to listen to.” Your eyes skipped over to look at the tree, evading his intense gaze as much as possible. Your heart can’t take this extreme intimacy and if you wanted him to get off, the only way is to push him in which he only kept himself still.

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. Venti went quiet all of a sudden, you can only hear the winds blowing and the chirping of the birds from the forest. His fringe was covering his eyes so it was hard to take a look at him, that is until he dropped his head and settled it on your shoulder.

“…ly?” You tilted your head at his fainted words while he nuzzled close to you.

“Eh?”

“Do you really mean that?”

You don’t know what’s going on but he turned clingy all of a sudden. Sneaky arms surrounding your waist that surprised you and his short locks caressing your skin as he rubbed his cheeks with yours, whining your name.

“Well… yes.” You answered with a heave of a sigh. The male grumbled and pulled you towards him, switching positions with you; your thighs are now straddling him while he looks up at you in adoration from below.

You’ve already lost count of how many times you’ve blushed on this day. Just how shameless can he be and not be unfazed with this kind of position?! Why is he so calm about it?! These things are what your mind can only think of all this time that baffled you so much.

Maybe you should ease up a bit. He’s always been craving for your attention and you thought it was already enough, which is actually the opposite. He can never get enough of you and he wanted and needed more. Be it a kiss, a hug, or just even simply singing a song with you.

He actually does hope he wanted to be more intimate, but he won’t ever say that out loud in front of you. Just seeing your cute and shy reactions from his sultry interactions already satisfied him, so when you placed your hand on his chest with a flushed face it made his rate even go faster than he could ever imagine.

He was indeed blessed to have this view from you. The way your lashes flutter from your eyes, those shy glances you keep giving to him, and the quivering of your lips excited him. His impulse kicked in and told him to just kiss you already and lavish you with his love endlessly.

Before you could draw your mind from its far places, his arms were around you, reaching behind your head to pull you closer to him until your lips made contact with his. Your hands hastily grabbed on his shirt to prevent yourself from falling off, shutting your eyes tight and allowing him to hold you close to his body.

You felt the rush of helplessness, the sinking yielding, the surging tide of warmth left you limp. The quiet and burning face of yours was blurred and drowned into nothingness. He bent back your head and kissed you, softly at first, and then a swift gradual intensity that made you cling to him as the only option in your hazy world.

The urgent and needy kisses were back once again, his insistent mouth was parting your shaking lips, sending wild tremors along your nerves, evoking from your senses you never had known you had a capable of feeling.

The sweet flavor of the apple still lingered that he can still taste it from you. Both of you drowned yourselves in from this heated kiss, your nerves tingle with excitement and anticipation as he touched you so gently and passionately.

He was so attracted to you with the kind of heady trance that brings attention like precious jewelry. You, with just the right blend of sweet and shy, are perfect to his eyes, every part of you is flawless and immaculate.

Your gaze slid to the side when he pulled you against him. His nose tickled your ear as you let out a tiny gasp and squirmed uncomfortably. You didn’t anticipate for him to handle you so intimately, so when you felt his lips graze your slender neck, your whole face heated up.

You summoned enough courage to look at him. His turquoise eyes twinkled in pleasure and excitement, drinking in the expression that was currently donning your face. Oh, he knows, and he’s intentionally trying to make you feel like this.

You’re going in for a long day with this impudent bard.

—

Venti approached you slowly and pulled you closer to him wrapping his arms around you from behind. His embrace was warm and his slim arms seemed very protective when wrapped around your small form. The world around you melted as you squeezed him back, not wanting the moment to end.

You stretched your arm forward as you observed your hand. His eyes followed what you were doing, watching in slight curiosity.

“Your hands are actually quite small, [Name].” He commented whilst he hovered his hand next to yours to compare it. You stared at his own, eyes gleaming in concern when you noticed his skin color.

“Your hands are so pale, Venti.” The brushing of the skin as your hand connected with his was a surprise to you when you felt his palm was actually quite rough. “Are those calluses?”

The male hummed in affirmation as he rested his chin on your shoulder, watching you play with his hand with yours. “It’s so weird how yours are bigger than mine.” You muttered with puff cheeks, eyes squinting at the small size differences between your palms and his.

A small chuckle was elicited from him, enjoying the soft sensation of your hands touching lightly against his. “Isn’t that normal?” The tone of his voice was more of a matter-of-fact than a question.

His eyes widened in surprise when you enclosed your fingers from the gaps of his digits, intertwining them together. “I totally thought they were smaller…” His heart fluttered like the wings of a hummingbird, slowly lacing his digits with yours as it tightened a bit once they were finally connected.

He can faintly see the tips of your ears were red from behind, even when your hair covered it if you looked down below. A pleasant silence filled the air, his ears were gratified with the faint lullabies of the little birds. He stole a glance at you to observe your shy behavior, registering your cute expression inside his mind.

“I… I love you.”

“Eh?”

“Your hands! I love your hands, they’re— they’re nice!”

The frantic beating of your heart was so hard you felt it would escape right out from your chest. It pounded against your ribs as if trying to fulfill a thousand beats. It was so obvious to him that you were blushing profusely, your nervous fidgeting greeting his vision when you played with the ribbon tied to your hair.

He almost barely heard what you have said if not for his sharp ears that easily caught your words. The color infused his cheeks with a smile that started to bloom on his face and warmed him, his eyes shining in a way that only deep happiness can only bring.

Venti suppressed a smile. He could tell from your blush that you seriously liked him.

“I-I was just thinking how much I love them!” You swiftly interjected before he could get any different ideas. “The calluses you have, they’re from the lyre, right?” You asked and absently clasped his hand even more.

“They are.”

A sudden weight was settled on your shoulder surprising you. You looked over and you were only greeted by the dark tousled hair of his. His breathing brushed the nape of your neck as he muttered unexpected words that made your heartbeat louder than ever.

“I love yours too.”

He glanced down at your linked fingers, adoring how your hand fit perfectly with his. There’s a kind of redness that emits in him, a type of longing to the eyes and the delicate sweetness within. It shows a connection, that the smile and yearning come from some deep emotion in him.

His heart warmed at the idea of them finally being together. It was the first time he heard you say “I love you” to him. When his ears picked up those three words, it brought such joy and bliss inside him that words aren’t even enough to describe how he’s feeling right now.

He can’t help but let his smile widen, his stomach churning in delight and euphoria that he finally got to know your feelings towards him. He tightened his hold on you and shot you with a smile that was all adoration, just the right hint of softness, a crease at the corner of his eyes.

He lifted the intertwined fingers near to his lips, grazing it to the back of your hand, finally uttering out the words to return your feelings.

“I love you too.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact venti x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #genshin x reader #venti x reader #yandere venti x reader #genshin impact fanfictions #yandere #yandere genshin #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact venti #venti #elliwrites #Illusory Sense

317 notes · View notes

redrosesartcabin · 3 years

Text

Kenji x first perspective female reader:

Things happened

—————————————————

(Hey, how is it going peeps! This was requested by @xxno-0xx . I hope you all, and especially the requester, like it. Only one warning: It involves some swearing, so if you don’t like that don’t read. If the requester doesn’t like it, please tell me and I’ll edit the story! Also: The story plays somewhere either between season 2 and 3, or somewhere around season 3. Though not in a canonical episode)

It’s crazy how things sometimes happen.

A very vague description, I know, but it’s the only way I can convey how I feel.

Things happened that made me have the opportunity to go to Jurassic Worlds Camp Cretaceous.

We had won the league as the best female Baseball team, with the price being -besides the typical golden trophy and some media glory- a trip to Camp Cretaceous for one of us. And as the team leader, I was chosen as the one who can go.

“Oh no it’s fine!”, I had said. I already had a funny feeling about the trip. But they all had insisted, “it’s fine”, they had said, “it’ll be cool” they said.

Oh and weren’t they just so right. I am super peachy.

Practically prancing through the jungle and killing Dinos with my little finger-

Ok that’s enough, I think y’all got the gist: The shit had hit the fan.

Things happened, that made everyone be gone, and suddenly it was up to us to survive on this pretend Prehistoric nightmare.

At least my beloved baseball bat had survived the fall of the Camp Cretaceous building. After that discovery I didn’t let go of it anymore. I took it everywhere with me, hitting every living being that even dared to breath in my new found friends direction.

Friends… I had never thought, before the evacuation of Jurassic World and all that crazy stuff happened, that I’d ever call any of them that. I hadn’t really found any of them to be friendship material. I love baseball and building things out of wood in my free time and had a dry, sarcastic sense of humor. The only person in the group who had come close to that was Yaz, but she had been so closed off, that I couldn’t really tell before we became a group that fought for their survival. Darius also had been ok, but I was older than him and we didn’t have anything in common, so that checked itself out. Everyone else sort of annoyed me in one way or another. Especially Kenji’s pompous ass. He had appeared very full of himself and just generally narcissistic, or at least painfully self centered and pretentious.

Now imagine how surprised one might be, when one figured I was crushing on the guy.

Let’s just say, that things happened that made me see Kenji in a completely different light.

Turns out he has a good enough sense of humor to catch my drift when I speak “in sarcastic” as he likes to call it. Turns out, he was a loyal and fun friend. Turns out he was just a lonely soul, neglected by a father whose work is more important to him than his own son.

Everything turned out different than it appears about him. He still sometimes annoyed me with his pranks and especially when he wouldn’t shut up about his wealth. The latter however became very apparent as the means to show that he was someone, although he didn’t need to prove that anymore. But of course he would think that’s how people would like him, his father had taught him no better.

The first thing I mentioned somehow makes me love him even more. It annoys me, gets such a rise out of me, that it’s somehow funny again. It gives me a spark and Kenji seemingly seems to enjoy seeing that spark. And him enjoying that spark makes me somehow happy as well. It would start with a cat fight and ended in rigorous laughter.

“Why so serious?”, he would sometimes ask when I’d respond with a glare towards him when he’d steal my bat for what felt like the fifty millionth time.

“You’re getting so creative. I barely saw it coming”, I answered dryly and one could practically see the words alternating between being written in small and big letters.

“Well then you should have no problem finding your sweet baby bat then”, he cooed. Looking deep into his dark brown eyes and almost devilish handsome grin made me both want to punch and kiss him, which may have made me irritable and even madder.

“Finding? Why should I find anything if I have a living and breathing treasure map. Come here!”, I demanded with a creepily sweet grin as I’d walk towards him. Then he’d run, I’d run, we wrestled for a second on the ground only to break into a laughing fit, rolling on the floor, crying tears, resolving this nonsense prank and then getting back to either relaxing or fighting off Dinosaurs… again.

I didn’t think, however, that anything could happen between Kenji and me.

For many a reason, though only two are essential: For one, we were busy surviving, one barely had time to get downtime with the group, yet alone for themselves. Secondly, I didn’t really know, or couldn’t really tell, if he felt the same. Maybe it was my own insecurities coming to light or something, but I just couldn’t really believe it.

Seemed unlikely.

But then things happened.

Kenji and I were on the run from an especially nasty, big Dinosaur. We had been collecting some water in big canisters and wanted to head back to camp when it sneak attacked, unexpectedly.

It snared at us, opening its huge mouth, showing a row of thin, long, sharp teeth.

“Fuck off, you tooth pick mouthed asshole!”, I hissed back at it, flailing my bat at it in panic.

The reason for my irrational action was mainly, that we were stuck between two huge rocks, backed up against another rock with no way out.

Maybe hills or mini-mountain were a better description, but it’s also not important.

All that I could think of was that we were stuck and that little fucker wanted to eat us.

“Calm down, y/n, this isn’t making anything better!”, Kenji tried to reason with me. I was close to shouting some obscenities at him or a dry ‘got a better idea, genius!?’, but this time his dark brown eyes, that often had a mischievous twinkle, calmed me, instead of creating the usual spark. I crawled closer to him as we were pressed to the stone wall.

The Dino however wouldn’t give up. Vehemently, it pressed its ugly snout between the walls, stretching its uncomfortably wet tongue towards us and exhaling a nauseating breath.

I was paralyzed, as I looked at that thing, not knowing what would happen next.

Suddenly, I felt my bat being taken out of my hand. I watched as Kenji took on a fighter stance, the bat positioned over his head, ready for the hit.

“What are you doing! Didn’t you just tell me that we should calm it?”, I asked. He turned around, a frown adorned his face, “I said you should calm down”, is all he answered before he darted towards the animal.

“NO!”, I heard myself scream. I had never heard such a sound come from my throat. It was shrill, loud and all in all I couldn’t recognize myself. I was terrified, even more than when I first caught sight of this beast that had brought us into this situation.

Everything seemed to pass by in slow motion as I saw Kenji swing the bat towards its snout. At first I thought it was over for him as the Dinos mouth opened, the teeth seeming to scrape Kenji’s head, that’s how close it was to him… but then I saw Kenji swinging the bat again, directly hitting its head so that it flew against the stone wall. The beast wailed in pain, seemingly backing up, and just like that, it was gone.

“I… I made it”, Kenji first whispered, before he laughed, repeating, “I made it!”, even louder, jumping into the air and forming a victory fistbump in the air.

“That was awesome! Did you see how- Y/N?”, Kenji’s joy subsided as he looked into my angered expression. With a swift motion I took my bat back, glaring at him as I pressed out, between gritted teeth “let’s just go, hero”

Kenji seemed to have caught the sarcastic undertone of me calling him a hero, because I could physically feel his mood shift closer to mine, “hey what’s with that attitude? I just saved our lives!”

“By doing what I also wanted to do. Great!”

“You were panicking! I don’t know if you would’ve gotten a good hit by panicking. Besides, I couldn’t risk you getting hurt!”, he explained.

For a second I could feel my heart flutter, but that didn’t help my opinion on what just happened.

“But you were ready to risk yourself?”, I asked, my tone bitter.

“Why are you so mad?”, he asked, “we are safe, what more could you want?”,

“I-“, I stopped in my tracks, thinking. Yeah: What was I so mad about? He was right, I had panicked. Panic never helps with concentration and right decision making. I found it impressive, that he had the courage and the focus to fight the Dino off. But I just couldn’t fight off the thought of it going wrong. What if he would’ve been eaten?

“What-“, I wanted to repeat what I had been thinking, but could feel a hiccup, breaking the tear flood inside me. No- I was not going to cry. I took a deep breath, looking directly into his confused visage, “- what if it would’ve gone wrong, I’m just… I- I wouldn’t have known what to do without you. I can’t imagine being without you anymore”.

I saw and heard him gasp, his glance unfreezing from his confused state.

“I didn’t realize I was that important to you”, he answered.

I chuckled, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes, “everyone is important to me from the group, I wouldn’t have liked any of them to risk their lives for me but- but especially not you. I- I can’t believe I’m going to say this - I had vowed to take this to my grave ya know-“

“- Get to the point”, Kenji urged me.( I wasn’t looking at him, but he later told me he had smiled whilst saying it, I however thought he was getting annoyed and was almost too scared to continue. Stupid how that sometimes works)

“- I, eh- I’m in love with you I think. Or at least I definitely feel very strongly for you”, I confessed, “there! Now you have something to use against me. Finally got something you can laugh at again on this miserable Isla-mpf”, my self deprecating monologue was interrupted by soft lips catching mine. It almost took my breath away, but then I leaned in, still not believing this was happening, though it definitely was.

“I’m not going to laugh, I love you too. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk everything if I didn’t”

“That’s cheesy, but I appreciate the honesty”, I said, wearing my usual shit eating grin as I regained confidence back.

“Oh look who's talking now”

“Oh shut it!”, I laughed and just like that, I found myself kissing him again.

“And here I thought I had to worry, but you two just ran away to make out”, I suddenly heard Darius in the background, half serious, half amused by the moment he found us in.

I quickly broke away from Kenji, grinning sheepishly, “You know how it is Darius: You get chased by a Dino, and then you need a kiss to make the boo boo go away… just so happens I got a bit of a chap on my lips, and Kenji wanted to make it real good again”, I explained, earning a silent chuckle from Kenji.

Darius rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back a smile either, “let’s get you love birds home”

————————

And so things happened. Did we have much time to enjoy us being a couple? Not really.

Did more things happen, making everything crazier and tougher?

Did the rift between Darius and Kenji make me anxious as I was sitting by Kenji’s side, as he, with an expression that was too serious for my liking, drove the yacht?

Absolutely.

But I know, that at least he’s by my side still, as am I, and we will make things happen so that we can finally be free from this place.

Hopefully, we’ll make it.

Depends on what the Dino on the yacht has to say about it...

#request #kenji kon x reader #kenji x reader #kenji camp cretaceous x reader #kenji kon #kenji #fanfiction #jw cc #jw cc season 3 #jw cc spoilers #camp cretaceous spoilers #camp cretaceous

85 notes · View notes