#It was delicious both times and I regret nothing no matter how much my body hates me for it

[save-me-im-feeling]

I have once again thought myself greater than the gods (ate too much imitation crab) and am now suffering for my hubris (my bowls just destroyed my girlfriend's toilet)

[crazycurly-77]

Healing processes - Ch 11

This bath was the most beautiful and relaxing bath you've ever had.

The warm water, the gentle foam... leaning against Jethro's strong chest and embraced by his strong arms... it was a wonderful dream. You haven't felt so comfortable and safe in a long time.

He was definitely right. Bathing is better... but only with him, you thought mischievously.

Much to both of your regrets, the water slowly got cold and as both of your stomachs started to growl, you unfortunately had to leave your little paradise.

Just as Gibbs helped you into the tub, he helped you out again and wrapped you in a warm, cozy bath towel after he himself got out of the tub.

He carefully ran his hands over your body to rub it dry as gently as possible and your injuries thanked him.

He was so tender and considerate...the complete opposite of how he always presents himself, always the tough guy.

And he was so focused on not causing you any pain, no matter how unintentional, that he didn't notice your broad grin. Because of course you couldn't resist taking advantage of his complete lack of protection and his cluelessness.

Unnoticed by him, you stood on tiptoe and surprised him with a loving kiss. But you lost your balance and almost knocked him over, so that he had to take a step back to avoid falling over.

Jethro held you in his arms while you held on to his strong shoulders. With a loving look you whispered: "You are the best nurse I could wish for."

This touched him deep in his heart, where his guilt was still simmering.

He whispered: "...I owe it to you. After all, it was because of me that you fell off the cliff."

He said that so infinitely sadly and doubting himself that it stabbed you right in the heart. He is your hero and you love him with all your heart, which is why it hurt you so incredibly much to see him like that.

“No, stop,” you demanded of him, close to tears.

“Yes, that's how it is. If I hadn't ordered you to climb up…” he continued to insist, shaking his head more and more violently. He was in danger of drowning in his guilt. You couldn't and shouldn't allow that.

With a sharp “…stop,” you interrupted him. He fell silent abruptly and stared at you.

“Yes, you ordered me to climb up, but I went too close to the edge and was careless,” you tried to make him understand that it was an accident. Nothing more and nothing less.

Full of desperation, you put his hand on your heart: “can you feel that?” He nodded.

“I'm alive and I have YOU to thank for that,” you explained to him gratefully and hopefully.

But he refused to accept that it wasn't his fault.

“No, I'm a danger to you,” he insisted, his voice broken, his hand still resting on your heart.

How could you make him understand that it wasn't his fault? And how was it possible to ease his mental anguish?

It hurt you to see him suffering so much and full of self-doubt.

You gently cupped his cheek and spoke softly:

“No, you're not. Quite the opposite. YOU were the one who convinced me to come back. YOU and your unwavering love and support that filled my heart with warmth...if it hadn't been for YOU, I would have given up.”

He kissed you gently and pulled you into a tight embrace. “I wouldn't know what to do without you,” he whispered.

With your head leaning against his chest, you listened to his steady, strong heartbeat and replied: “I wouldn't know either.”

After a few seconds of silence he cleared his throat: “Come on, let's get dressed and eat something. I'm already dry now.”

The moment of peace was over.

He quickly got you both dressed, then left the bathroom, went into the living room and ordered Chinese food.

When you came downstairs, he had already set the dining table and shortly afterwards the delivery man arrived.

You were absolutely surprised: “Wow, how did you manage that?”

Jethro grinned and replied with a wink: “I know the cook.”

The food smelled delicious and you ate everything with pleasure. The dishes were also quickly done, so you could finally end the day.

You made yourself comfortable on the couch, snuggled up close to each other and turned on an old western.

But neither of you watched it, because it was so pleasantly cozy that you fell asleep arm in arm. Both of you smiling contentedly in your sleep and dreaming of a wonderful life together.

...at least part of the night, because while you slept exhausted in his arms (which was important for your healing), Gibbs lay awake half the night trying to fight his demons.

Were you really right? Was it really just an accident and was he really no danger to you?

(To be continued in Chapter 12.)

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Here you will find the other chapters of this story.

Masterlist stories - Part 1 (finished ones)

Masterlist stories - Part 2 (finished/ongoing)

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Tags: @ilovemark1951, @hobby27

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[avatarrecom]

I am loving your kinktober! I mean I love all your writing, but kinktober has been great. I did have an idea whenever you get a moment! I’d love to see the recoms torn between two sides of a fight and making the reader chose and a side. But maybe reader is a scientist and has to figure out what the fights about and it turns out it’s something real dumb, like Lyle told Fike his favorite movie wasn’t good but everyone picked sides and won’t talk to each other.

Say that to my face, you limp noodle

Pairing: Poly!recoms x Recom!reader

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Thank you so much nonnie! This really makes me happy! I don't get a lot of comments about my writing so it's been making me kinda insecure.

Based on an argument between me and my cousin.

The day was finally over. You walked tiredly to your and your lover's apartment. Today was so incredibly tiring, you were ready to curl up on the couch with your loved ones, relax and watch a movie. Sighing, you rub your stiff neck. Sometimes you regret your career choice. The life of being both a Marine and scientist on Pandora was not easy. But you did meet your partners here. There's no way you would have met them on Earth. Y'all were once human, but after your death you were brought back to life in the bodies of 9ft tall blue aliens. You're not complaining, there's nothing better than those strong blue arms around you after a long day in the lab. And it’s funny to watch the humans shrink even more when you walk by.

The moment you walk into your apartment you feel a tense atmosphere. Normally around this time Z-dog and Walker would be cuddling on the sofa. Brown, Lopez, Fike and Lyle normally watch the football game around this time, no matter which teams are playing, they always shout at the television like the players can hear them. Normally when you walk in after a day at work, you see Ja and Prager together on one of the couches, each reading their own book. Normally, Mansk is cooking one of his delicious dishes, while Miles is at the dining table finishing up his paperwork.

Apparently today is different. Lyle, Z-dog, Brown, Lopez and Miles sit around the dining room table, while Fike, Walker, Ja, Prager and Mansk sit on the couches. You look at your partners in confusion. It's like they're divided into two camps. Everyone has an irritated look. “Hello loves,” you greet everyone with a nervous smile. Immediately the tense atmosphere lessens and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Your partners look at you with a smile. "Hello Darlin'," Miles greets with a mellow smile. "How was your day?" You shrug your shoulders, "exhausting." "What are we doing for dinner, should I cook?" you ask. Mansk stands up, "no need babe, I've already cooked, it just needs to be heated up." He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips and walks to the kitchen. You nod and look back at your tense partners.

“So…” you start awkwardly. "What is going on?" Prager stands up and walks over to you, "nothing to worry about babe," he gives you a kiss and starts setting the table. You vaguely hear him hissing at your partners at the table to move so he can set the table.

You remain confused. "What the hell is wrong with them?" Z-dog wraps her arms around you and presses her chest against your back. She starts pressing light kisses to your neck. Normally you would relax into her embrace and return her affection, but you know better. She's trying to distract you from whatever it is that's going on. You roll your eyes, but relax slightly. Z-dog's lips work their magic and the tense situation fades into the background.

You open your eyes when you hear Mansk say that dinner is ready. You expect everyone to take their usual places, but apparently not. Fike, Walker, Ja, Prager and Mansk take their seats on one side of the table and Miles, Lyle, Brown, Lopez and Z-dog on the other side, leaving Miles' normal spot at the head of the table for you.

You sit down, confused. Everyone starts eating in silence when the last one has their food. The atmosphere becomes more and more tense. No one says a word or looks at each other. Sometimes angry looks are thrown from one side of the table to the other. What surprises you most is that both Mansk and Miles are also acting strange. Normally when there is an argument they stay out of it.

You slam your cutlery down on the table. “Okay, what the fuck is going on,” you demand. Ten almost identical shocked looks look your way. Lopez's fork pauses in mid-air, oblivious to the food falling onto his lap, and Ja pauses mid-chew. You have never raised your voice at them or demanded that they do anything.

You raise an irritated eyebrow, "Well? I'm waiting." “There's nothing wrong Darlin,” Miles begins. “Bullshit!” you snap. "Yeah, that’s bullshit," Fike huffs. Miles turns his attention to him. "Fike," he begins warningly. “Leave it and accept that you are not right,” he orders. “What,” the Recom scoffs. “Is that an order from my CO or from my daddy?” he sneers mockingly.

You stand up abruptly and the chair slams backwards onto the floor. You lean your hands on the table and look angrily into the eyes of all your lovers one by one. "Someone better start talking or you guys are going to sleep outside tonight, I'm really not in the mood for this."

Brown points accusingly to the other side of the table, "They say Die Hard is a Christmas movie, but that's complete bullshit, right?!" he blurts. You stare at him in disbelief, “what?” Lopez wrongly interprets your disbelief as agreement that their opinion of the film is wrong. "Right?! It's bullshit!" he exclaims, exasperatedly throwing his hands in the air. 

"See? She thinks it's bullshit too!" Z-dog says triumphantly. “Wait, no…” you start, but it's no use as another argument breaks out. "Die Hard values family over greed and materialism, that's a Christmas message!" claims Fike, and his side of the table firmly agrees. "It's too brutal. There's a lot of action, fight scenes, and gore, which typical Christmas movies just don't have," Lyle argues back. Once again there is agreement from one side of the table.

"The story literally begins on Christmas Eve. In the opening scene John McClan arrives at the airport with a Christmas gift in hand. He goes with his wife, who's name is Holly, to her work office Christmas party, I mean what else do you need?!” Ja sighs irritated.

“You agree with us, right?” Z-dog asks. "No, you know it's a Christmas movie, right? We watched it this week!" Walker looks at you expectantly. “Why did you watch it this week if you think it's a Christmas movie,” Lopez scoffs. And again a heated discussion begins.

"Everyone shut up!" you shout. Once you have everyone's attention you sigh tiredly, "Can we just say Die Hard is a heartfelt movie about coming home for the holidays...just, with explosions?" Your lovers look at you incredulously.

“Absolutely not,” Miles says. "You know what," you start, "what if we watch the movie and then we make two lists with arguments for and against whether Die Hard is a Christmas movie or not." For the first time this evening, everyone is in agreement and after the table and kitchen have been cleaned, the two camps sit on opposite sides of the coffee table, two tablets ready to take notes to prove who’s right.

You sigh and wonder what you got yourself into. But at least, you will have some rest for the next two hours, before you are undoubtedly forced to make the final decision about some stupid movie that you couldn't care less about. Tomorrow your lovers will have to remind you why on earth you ever fell in love with them.

[obeymeoasis]

Demon Bros React: MC Is Insecure

Warnings: mentions of insecurity surrounding body image, physical appearance, self-worth.

Lucifer

It was the day after a party Diavolo had thrown at his castle. You had had fun for the most part, dancing with the brothers and eating delicious foods prepared by Barbatos. 

But you also remembered how it had felt to look around the room and realize you were surrounded by gorgeous demons, not a single flaw on anyone’s face. Doubt and insecurity had begun to creep into your mind, and that feeling had carried over into the next day.

You had only talked briefly with Lucifer at the party because he was too busy interacting with Diavolo’s guests. Every time you tried to catch his eye, you noticed how beautiful whoever he was talking to was and found yourself swallowing down your greeting.

Currently Lucifer was at his desk like always, scribbling down notes and shuffling through papers. You brought him afternoon tea and sat reading in one of his armchairs to keep him company.

You had been telling yourself that you were going to ask him the question that was burning in your mind, but an hour had already passed since you first came in. You tried to distract yourself with your book but the words were fuzzy on the page. Finally, you spoke. “Luci?”

He didn’t look up from his desk when he answered, “Yes, love?”

“Do you... do you ever wish I was more beautiful?”

The scratching of his pen stopped immediately and Lucifer lowered the papers he was holding to show his face, a carefully blank expression revealing nothing. “What exactly do you mean by that question?”

“I mean exactly what I asked. Do you ever wish I was more beautiful? More attractive? As the Avatar of Pride have you ever been... embarrassed to be seen with me?”

At this Lucifer’s expression grew cold and furious. “Has someone... made you feel this way? Has someone made you feel as if you are inadequate?” You shook your head sadly and whispered, “No, just my own brain.”

“Ah, I see. Well pet, I don’t ever wish you were more beautiful because you are the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen. So it would be physically impossible for you to be more beautiful than you are now.”

You snorted. “Luci, that was so cheesy. Your brothers would throw up if they heard what you just said.” Lucifer’s lips quirked up in amusement. “Well, I’m glad I was able to make you laugh. And I do mean what I said. I’ve never once felt embarrassed to be with you; you are my pride, the source of my happiness. If anyone were to suggest otherwise, I would gladly kill them.”

“Luci, we’ve been over this. You can’t just kill everyone who is mildly rude to me.”

Lucifer went back to working on his papers but there was a gentle smile on his face. “Darling, you’ll find that I definitely can. I have a permit.”

Mammon

You were regretting tagging along to one of Mammon’s photo shoots. At first, it seemed like a fun idea getting to look at all the clothes, makeup, and jewelry. Plus, you really wanted to see what Mammon was like when he was working professionally. 

It was fun at first, you cooing over how handsome Mammon looked in his outfit and watching him get all flustered and blushy. But then the actual photoshoot started and you watched as Mammon posed with a stunning model.

You tried to not let your insecurities get the best of you. You were here to support Mammon! But as the shoot progressed you couldn’t help but start to compare yourself, keeping track of how they were more beautiful and you more flawed. 

The photographer stopped to take a break and Mammon immediately bounced over to you. “MC, did you see me? How does it feel to watch the Great Mammon in his natural element? I look good, don’t I?”

You caressed Mammon’s cheek and feigned a bright smile. “You were amazing Mammon! You look so handsome. And this is such a cool outfit!” But Mammon was somehow always able to tell when you were faking a good mood and he frowned. “MC, is something wrong? You look sad. Did something happen?”

You opened your mouth, an excuse ready on your lips, but found you couldn’t lie right to Mammon’s face. You gestured toward the model who was talking to their manager in the corner. “Do you ever wish I looked like that?”

Mammon cocked his head, confused. “Do I ever wish you had blue hair? Not particularly? Although now that I think about it, blue hair would look cool on you too.”

You sighed. “No, I mean do you ever wish I looked like a model? Sexier? Or prettier?” Mammon thought for a moment, processing your question, and then frowned. “Oh no no no. Treasure, what’s this all about? What happened?”

“Sorry Mams, I didn’t want to distract you while you’re working. I just got really low and insecure all of a sudden. Started thinking about how you should be with someone really beautiful, you know? And sometimes I feel like that’s not me.”

Clearly upset, Mammon rushed to give you a crushing hug, tucking your head underneath his chin. “MC I- I wish I could beam my thoughts into your head. That way you’d really believe me when I say that you’re so precious to me. Every day I wake up and think about how lucky I am to be with you.”

You chuckled a little. “I do put up a lot with you, don’t I.” Mammon gently smacked you on your back. “Hey! I’ve been good lately! But seriously MC, you are stunning. You are gorgeous. And it’s okay if you don’t believe me right now because- because I’ll tell you as many times as you need me to! I’ll tell you a thousand times a day! A million times!”

You tried to blink away the tears in your eyes and held onto Mammon even tighter. “Thanks Mams, I love you so much.”

“Love you too treasure. Your first man’s gonna take care of you, don’t you worry about a thing.”

Leviathan

Usually you liked watching anime with Levi; it was one of your favorite things to do together. Levi was always more happy and lively when watching with you because he was able to express his opinions freely without judgment. And you thought it was adorable how excited Levi got over his favorite characters and storylines.

Today, you were snuggled together on some cushions re-watching an episode of “The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demon Girl”. At first you were enjoying the episode, laughing as Ruri got used to the oddities of the human world. But Levi’s repeated comments about how cute Ruri-chan was, which you usually never minded, started to bother you a bit.

You took a quick glance around the room, noting Levi’s enormous collection of Ruri-chan posters, figurines, and other merch. Levi tapped you on the knee, interrupting your thoughts. “MC, you’re missing the best part! What are you looking at?”

You sighed a little, struggling to act nonchalant. “Sorry Levi, it’s nothing. I’m still watching.” Frowning, Levi paused the episode and turned to look at you. “Hey, what’s up?”

Taking a deep breath, you said “Levi, I’m not Ruri-chan.” He narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Yes... I know?”

You continued, “I don’t look like Ruri-chan. Does that bother you?”

“Does it bother me... that you don’t look like an anime character?” He repeated the question slowly, as if you had asked him the strangest question in the world.

Frustrated, you blurted out “I don’t look like Ruri-chan! I’m never going to be as cute as her!”

Levi looked completely bewildered, his eyes wide and staring at you in confusion. “B-But you are cute! MC, w-what are you even talking about?” 

Embarrassed at your outburst you looked down at the floor silently. Levi scooted over toward you so that your knees were touching and he waited until you broke the silence. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m good enough. I think maybe you’d like it if I looked cuter or acted cuter, like the characters in anime.”

Levi hesitated for a moment before quickly grabbing onto your hand, blushing furiously as he did so. "MC, I-I already think you're c-cute. Really really cute. So don't say things like that. And also, I like you because you're you! Not because you're like someone else."

"And you make me really happy. I'm just a gross otaku. I never thought I'd be able to... to find someone like you. Someone who accepts me."

He tried to lock eyes with you but blushed even harder and stared at your joined hands. "Plus, I couldn't to-touch an anime character. But I can touch you. I can hold your hand or give you hugs whenever you need it, o-okay?"

You leaned your head onto Levi's shoulder and closed your eyes, letting the peaceful silence wash over you.

Satan

You were accompanying Satan on a trip to one of his favorite stores: an antique shop that sold all manner of rare books and artifacts. The owner, Ms. Sparrow, was a friend of Satan’s and she welcomed the two of you wholeheartedly.

Today, she looked as gorgeous as she always did. Her chic pearl dress and matching silk gloves shone against her dark skin. Not a curl in her hair was out of place and even the click-clack of her heels on the floor seemed melodious somehow.

You left Satan to look at the books and went wandering off into the various aisles of the store, marveling at all the bits and bobs. In one of the over-stuffed corners you happened to find a glittering silver key on a red velvet ribbon. Taking it in your hand, you went back through to show it off to Satan, wanting to ask him what he thought it opened.

But Satan was busy chatting and laughing with Ms. Sparrow. You watched the two of them for a moment and noticed how well they complimented each other. Both had a certain poise, a kind of confidence and certainty in their movements.

On your walk back to the dorms, you were unusually quiet and Satan noticed. “Pet, is something the matter?”

You hesitated, wondering if Satan was going to find your insecurity childish. “Satan, I’m not very....elegant.”

“Yes, I know. You choked on a piece of bread yesterday. The day before that you tripped over absolutely nothing and fell down.” He smiled, expecting for you to get riled up, but it fell when he saw that you looked dejected. “Love, what is the matter? Have I upset you?”

You avoided his gaze. “Sometimes... sometimes I wonder if I bring you down by being with you. I feel like you deserve someone elegant and sophisticated. Someone who matches you. But I’m not. I’m clumsy and messy and not perfect, like Ms. Sparrow.”

Satan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Ms. Sparrow? What does she have anything to with this?” He turned you around so that you were facing him. “Pet, please look at me. I love you. And I’m not with you in spite of you being clumsy or messy. I love you because you’re clumsy and messy, because those are parts of you and I love all of you.”

He leaned down to press his forehead against yours. “And why would I need someone perfect? Am I perfect? Yesterday you saw me screaming at my cup because I accidentally spilled some tea and burned my finger.”

You shrugged while giggling, “I thought it was a perfectly reasonable response.” You wrapped your arms around his and buried your face into his shoulder. “Thanks, Satan. You always know how to make me feel better.”

He reached down to give you a gentle kiss. “Anytime, love. I’m always here for you.”

Asmodeus

Asmo has a lot of fans across all his social media accounts. That was made perfectly clear the first time you went on a date with him outside. Sitting in the trendy coffeeshop, several people had come up to ask him for a picture or an autograph. He was never shy about you and always introduced you as his sweetheart, cooing about how beautiful you were. 

Some days it was okay. You loved seeing the bubbly social-butterfly side of Asmo. He was always so sweet to everyone who came up to him and genuinely enjoyed meeting new people. But other days, your insecurity rose up like a huge wave and dampened everything.

This particular day you were shopping with Asmo in a new boutique that had opened up. You were aimlessly flicking through the racks of clothes when you heard a large squealing.

Two demons ran up to Asmo, talking and gesturing excitedly. You could make out that they followed him on Devilgram and were asking if he was willing to take a picture with them. These demons were some of the most attractive beings you had ever seen. Their clothes were incredibly stylish and their hair and makeup were done flawlessly.

Looking around the shop, in all of the full length mirrors you could see the reflection of Asmo and his beautiful fans. And you looked out of place, like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit in at all. 

Tearing up, you grabbed a random pair of jeans off the rack and ran into a changing room. You turned away from the mirror, not wanting to look at yourself, and took deep breaths to try and keep from bursting into sobs. After a few moments Asmo began looking for you, having finished taking pictures. “Sweetheart, are you changing? Let me see what you’re wearing when you’re done!”

At the sound of his voice you burst into tears and your attempts to muffle the noise were futile. Outside the door, Asmo’s voice sounded panicked. “Darling, are you okay? What’s the matter? Please come outside, whatever it is please let me help you!” You hesitated, not wanting to face him, but this made him even more frantic. He started jiggling the doorknob and knocking on the door.

You opened it, afraid that he would accidentally break the doorknob leaving you trapped inside. As soon as he saw you he gathered you in his arms and began making shushing noises while smoothing your hair. “Sweetheart, why are you crying? Please talk to me, please tell me what’s wrong.”

You tried to get the words out in between sobs and hiccups. “A-Asmo, don’t you want someone m-more beautiful? Someone who-who looks g-good with you?” Asmo paused for a moment, processing your words, and then his eyes burned with anger. “Sweetheart, did one of my fans say something mean to you? Did someone make you feel like this?”

You shook your head vigorously. “No, just me.” Asmo breathed a sigh of relief at hearing no one had harrassed you and resumed smoothing your hair. “Oh, darling. You ARE beautiful. You’re stunning, sweetheart. I wish you could see the way I saw you, how adorable and gorgeous you are. And I understand that there are going to be days when you don’t believe me, when you feel like you’re not. But at least don’t go through those days alone, okay?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak without tearing up again.

"Now, let's go get some ice cream. We can eat it while taking a bubble bath."

Beelzebub

You weren’t really sure why Beel liked you coming with him to the gym all the time, even if you didn’t exercise. He said your presence was calming and that it made him focus better, which was odd because a lot of the time you just sat on an unoccupied machine and scrolled through your D.D.D.

Today was much the same, with Beel running on the treadmill and you watching some videos. The gym was pretty empty, just a few students exercising here and there.

Your eyes drifted to Beel who was running without even breaking a sweat. His body was all solid muscle: his arms, legs, and abs looked perfectly chiseled and toned. Last week you accidentally ran into Beel in the hallway and it felt like you had smashed into a brick wall. Beel, on the other hand, was completely fine.

You began to wonder what Beel thought about your body. He could be pretty handsy at times and he wasn’t shy in his affections. But what if there was something he didn’t like? Something that he thought needed changing?

He’s never mentioned anything about exercising to you before. But you thought back to the students you had seen in this gym: all of them were extremely fit with incredible bodies. You couldn’t help but start to compare yourself to them and think that maybe you were lacking.

Just then, Beel finished his run and walked over to you. You weren’t sure what kind of facial expression you were making but it seemed enough to concern him because he asked, “MC, is everything okay?”

“Hey Beel... do you ever wish I had a nicer body?”

He squinted in confusion. “What do you mean by ‘a nicer body’?”

“I don’t know... just better. Whatever nicer looks like for you.”

Beel was quiet for a moment, thinking. “No, I've never wished for that before. I still don't know what you mean by 'nicer'. I love you. And I love your body because its yours. The only thing that matters to me is whether you’re happy. And as long as I'm still allowed to touch you, then I'm happy.”

He looked at you nervously then, biting his lip. "Am I... still allowed to touch you?"

You laughed and reached to give him a hug, loving how safe it felt in his arms. "Of course, big guy. Thanks for making me feel better. You always know what to say."

Beel flushed with pride and closed his eyes in happiness, leaning into your hand as you patted him on the head.

Belphegor

You knew you were dreaming because you were sitting in a R.A.D classroom surrounded by fellow students, but you couldn’t focus on any of their faces. They were blurry, as if someone had smudged them like an artist had smudged some charcoal.

You were at your desk, looking around the classroom, when as if on cue all of the students began to slowly gather around you. They stood there silently for a moment, unmoving, and you felt a shiver go up your spine. 

And then one by one the students began to hurl insults at you.

“You’re not good enough. Not good enough for Belphegor.” “You’re ugly, you’re hideous. “You’re unwanted, go back to where you came from.” “You don’t deserve what you have, don’t deserve good.” “You’re weak.” “You ruin others, you ruin everything.”

As they insulted you the students began to draw themselves closer, pushing and shoving to reach you. They almost made a cover over your desk as if to block out all the light. You hunched over your desk, shaking and panicking, trying to curl up to protect yourself.

One of the demons began shaking your shoulder roughly, you yelping in pain. He began yelling in your ear, “Wake up! Wake up!”

“MC! Wake up!”

You startled awake and looked around the room in fear. You were in Belphie’s bed, your pajamas sticking to you with sweat. Belphie was looking at you with concern, one hand still on your shoulder.

“MC, you’re okay. It’s just me. It was just a nightmare.” You let out a sob and buried yourself in his arms while he patted you on the back until your breaths evened out.

“D-Did you see my dream?” you asked. You were nervous about showing Belphie that weak side of you, the insecurities that had been brewing since the two of you had begun a relationship. He looked apologetic. “I did. You were whimpering and shaking in your sleep. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He reached over, one hand smoothing your hair, the fingers of his other hand interlaced with yours. “None of what they said was true, you know.” You looked down, embarrassed. “I mean it, MC. You are good enough. You’re beautiful, you’re wanted, you deserve all the nice and beautiful things in the world, you’re strong. And most importantly, you lift others up. You lift me up everyday.”

He lifted up your hand and pressed a kiss against it. “You lifted me out of darkness. I love you so much. And I’ll gladly stay by your side, for as long as you’ll have me.”

You grabbed the front of his sweater to draw him into a rough kiss, lips bruising. “Forever, Belphie. Forever.” 

[megumisbimbo]

Distraction*

fushiguro megumi x fairy!reader/fem!reader

this is my entry for @izukine’s fairytales and mythical creatures collab - hope you enjoy it liyah <3

This is nsfw work - minors pls do not interact

warnings: aphrodisiac(?), unprotected sex, slight oral (fem receiving), deception(?)

taglist: @erispancakes @innrsoul @ohno-otome @kirsteiiins @nkogneatho @puptarou @fiaficsxo @arumiee @mitsuluv @rintarouss @dukina @jean-prettyboy-kirschtein

Megumi’s mind was racing. Exams were coming up and he was having a hard time focusing. He had tried everything. From classical music to meditation, nothing was helping him focus. This was his third and final year, he could not fail, no matter what. Megumi helplessly stared out his dorm window, the sunlight bouncing off the pavement and straining his eyes. A walk might do him some good, he thought to himself. He rolled out of his bed and slipped his shoes on, half eager to get some much needed vitamin d.

There was a small park near Jujutsu Tech that Gojo frequently took him to when he was younger. Days of fighting horrible curses and now losing the only person he could call his best friend, Megumi was truly in need of some time to himself.

He found the biggest tree with the most shade and sat underneath it. The feeling of the cool grass underneath his fingertips and the soft breeze blowing past alleviated the pain that spread throughout his body like a disease. He closes his eyes and soaks in the feeling, relishing in the peace if only for moment.

Megumi doesn’t know what time he fell asleep, but he arises with a heavy weight across his chest. He looks down and sees a small figure no bigger than Nishimiya curled up against him. He couldn’t quite understand what it was, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He didn’t dare move, afraid of waking you. It proved to be useless when you lifted your hand to rub your eyes.

“Um…who..are you?”

“Oh I’m sorry you just looked so comfortable…and I-I’m sorry I’ll go.”

You knew your intentions, and they were definitely not innocent. You were a fairy, of course, and not the ones told in cute stories for children. No you were much more…treacherous. You happened to stumble across exactly what you were looking for. A young boy with blood red as roses and as delicious as spring cherries.

“Wait-..don’t go…it’s ok. I didn’t mean to wake you. What’s your name?” Megumi asked, against his better judgement.

Megumi was known for having a strong mind, one must in order to be a jujutsu sorcerer. But something about you emanated pure beauty and comfort. He was under your most dangerous spell. Pseudo-love. The artificial feeling overcame Megumi and blocked all the self-control and discipline he had developed through his years of training.

“Y/n. Y/n is my name. And yours?”

“Megumi.”

“Megumi…it’s beautiful..” You say, a saccharine smile adorning your face.

If Megumi hadn’t fallen for you before, hearing the way his name rolled off your tongue had him practically at your feet. You had him exactly where you wanted him.

“I..I don’t have anywhere to go Megumi…would you mind if I stayed with you for a night or two. Only if it’s ok of course-“

“Yes.”

“Really?! Oh thank you so much Megumi!”

Megumi didn’t mean to say yes, especially not so quickly. He barely knew you. But the way your doe eyes twinkle and the way your small fingers latch onto the hem of his sweater, he doesn’t think he’ll regret saying yes.

Megumi’s mind was racing. What is he thinking? Bringing a girl he doesn’t know beyond her first name into his room. Into jujutsu tech! He knows how irresponsible this is. How he’d be reprimanded, maybe even suspended, for letting a stranger into the concealed school.

“Megumi…is everything ok?”

“Hm? Oh..yeah everything’s fine. I just- never mind it’s nothing.” He answers, brushing you off and turning to face his window once again.

You walk towards him, your hands landing on his back running them up and down slowly. The feeling of your soft hands pushes Megumi closer to the edge. He doesn’t know how much more he could take. Your aura absolutely intoxicating. You run your hands under his arms pressing your palms against his chest and your cheek against his back.

“Is there anything…I can do…Megumi?”

You can hear his rapid heartbeat and feel the accelerated rise and fall of his chest. Your hands run down his chest, finding purchase underneath his sweater. Your cold fingertips delicately examine each and every muscle he’s cultivated over years of training. Your lips are quick to press against the nape of his neck.

“Can you take this off for me?” You ask gingerly.

Megumi hastily slips his sweater over his head as he turns to face you. He dips his head down to place a chaste kiss on your lips, his sweater and common sense long forgotten. Your lips sweeter than honey and more addictive than any drug. Your power engulfs his senses, the natural aphrodisiac emitted from your body surrounding the young sorcerer. Megumi was long gone, he was all yours.

“Can you take these off for me Megumi?” You ask, your fingers fiddling with the strings of his black sweatpants. Megumi is quick to follow your directions, stripping down to his boxers. You were still clothed in your short lace dress. You turn your back towards him and fiddle with the buttons that held your dress tight against you. Megumi understood your action and unbuttoned them for you. His fingers latch onto the neckline of your dress slowly dragging it downwards as he peppers your neck with kisses. He trails his kisses down your back following his fingers. You relax into his touch, the feeling of his nimble hands gliding across your body sending shockwaves through you.

It was always blissful, the feeling of your body being worshipped by mindless young boys right before you sink your teeth into them. Megumi’s hands grip your waist pulling you flush against his chest. One hand trails upward cupping your breast and massaging it softly.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, his voice deep and laced with desire.

“Please Megumi…I want you.”

“You have me.”

He’s quick to discard of your dress, his fingers now slipping past the waistband of your panties dipping into your sopping core.

“Oh fuck Megumi…just like that.” You moan out, his fingers pressing tight circles against your pussy. You grip onto his wrist, guiding his hand towards your entrance.

“Need it here Megumi..”

Megumi pulls his fingers out of you, eliciting a small whine. He leads you towards the bed, his arm cradling your back setting you down softly. He leans down to lick a stripe up your cunt before latching his teeth onto the fabric pulling it down to your ankles. You haven’t felt this good in a while, Megumi’s teeth leaving wine red blemishes across your skin.

He pulls his black boxers down just enough to let his cock spring free. The tip was flushed red, beads of precum slipping down. It was a sight to behold.

“Are you ready?”

“Please…”

Megumi presses the tip of his cock into your entrance, your moans filling his ears and clouding his senses. He pushes in and out slowly, his lips attaching to yours to distract you from the stretch. You notice his attentiveness, his careful touches and his soft praise. You couldn’t lie…in all the years you’ve had young men wrapped around your finger, this was the first time you had ever felt..so loved.

“Mmm-Megumi…’m coming!” You moan, your breathe catching in your throat slightly.

“Fuck- cum for me baby, cum all over my cock.”

“Hnggg-“

One final stroke sends you both over the edge, Megumi’s lips pressing softly against your ear leaving candied kisses in between whispers of praise.

It’s working, you think to yourself…but suddenly you feel a shift in your energy. An unknown force clashing with yours. Thick black shadow surrounds you filling your lungs. You look up at the sorcerer and notice that he was indeed the source of the shadow.

“Megumi? What is this?” You ask, slightly concerned that you no longer had the upper hand.

“Have you finally noticed pretty?” He says staring into your now fear filled eyes.

“This is my domain.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

“Well isn’t it obvious? I wanted to give you a show before you suck me dry. I know what you are, fairy. There’s no need to keep up the charade.”

He knows? How? When did he notice?

Megumi was known to have a strong mind, and for good reason. He knew what you were the moment you slipped your hands underneath his sweater. The cursed energy emitted from your body similar to one explained by Gojo and the fairy he had exorcised a while back. But he couldn’t let his guard down, not while the odds were in your favor. So he summoned his domain, knowing he would immediately have the upper hand.

“There’s nowhere for you to run now pretty…just let me exorcise you. I’ll be gentle I promise.” He says, a cheshire smile replacing the helpless expression he adorned earlier.

“Please! Megumi please give me a chance to explain myself!!”

“What is there to explain? If I don’t destroy you now, who knows what innocent boy will be your next victim.”

“Please! I’ll do anything!!”

“Anything? Choose your words wisely curse, your life depends on it.”

likes and reblogs appreciated !!

© megumisbimbo 2021

[astroboots]

CiCi I just had this thought and I NEED TO SHARE IT BECAUSE IM ANGSTY MOOD ON. Marc and you being both mercenaries, he falls in love with you, and you with him, you are together through good and bad and worse, almost dying together many times, sharing moments, fucking hard, but also caressing each other in the dark, neither of you completely acknowledge your feelings, but Marc being Marc, decides to fuck everything up because he believes you deserve much better than him, a better life, even if you are in as much shit as him (this being before the Khonshu situation), so one day after a mission, when you’ve been hurt but refuse to make a big deal out of it, he can’t stand it anymore and pushes you away saying the most fucked up shit ever, like that he doesn’t feel anything for you, that you don’t matter, you’re just a stress reliever for him, nothing but a hole in which he can drown his sorrows, because you’re like him, but that doesn’t mean he loves you, that he never will (all of this is a lie, you know it, he knows it), you just blankly stare at him, taking every word in, knowing that you’ve done the same before, pushing people away when you were scared, you know, because you see it in his face, that he’s about to cry, regretting every word falling out of his mouth at the same time he says them, but there’s nothing any of you can do. So when he’s done, breathing irregularly and thinking ‘this is it, I just ruined the only good thing I had’, you finally speak after a few seconds of painful silence: “i know you don’t mean a single word, but this, what you just said to me, it makes you sound like a fucking coward. You’re running away, and I’m going to let you. If the only thing you wanted was to push me away, consider it done. Have a great life, Marc.” And then after a few more seconds of memorizing his face, knowing you’ll never see him again because you won’t allow it, seeing how his expression falls and his eyes water, recognizing the regret in his features, you turn around with you beaten up body and leave. What you don’t see, is that the second you disappear from his sight, he breaks down, and cries the same way he promised himself he wouldn’t again -like a kid, unable to stop, suffocating, drowning, knowing in the very second he falls on his knees, that he was completely and irrevocably in love with you, and that he just did what he always does. He lost his chance to be held, to be embraced, to be protected. He lost you. Forever.

Forgive me because English is not my first language but I imagined this and I had to share it with you. Love you <3

Oooof hon you're breaking my whole freaking heart that's some delicious angst right there 💔💔💔💔

I wanted to hug him when he broke down crying (but also why is it so hot when Marc cries I imagine him all pretty and gorgeous when he does)

Thank you so so much for sharing this with us 😘💞😍!!!!

[omg-imagine]

Distraction

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x female!V

Summary: Johnny distracts V the best way he knows how.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: language, smut (oral + rough sex, choking)

A/N: Please don’t mind the weak plot, this was just an excuse to write p*rn featuring the only character I want to romance in the game but can’t. Also, for the sake of this fic, let’s just say he can touch V and vice versa :)) Hope you enjoy!

V was pissed.

No, she was beyond pissed.

And when V’s beyond pissed, she’s sure to let the whole fucking world know.

“Tone it down, princess,” Johnny cuts in once he’s heard enough of her long-winded rant.

V stops her relentless pacing around the apartment and shoots a menacing glare towards the rocker.

“I warned you not to take that job from the start. Now, look at you, bruised up from head to toe, and cheated out of your eddies.”

“That son of a bitch promised me half the cut,” V recalls bitterly, her chest heaving from the fierce anger spreading all throughout. “I’m gonna make sure Cruz regrets asking me for help.”

The merc stalks off to her stash, muttering low under her breath how she plans on raising hell the next time she crosses paths with him. As V polishes her guns (something she typically does to calm herself), Johnny approaches the small room to the side with the same cocky attitude that would surely piss her off even more.

He can’t help himself at times; he sure does love pushing V’s buttons.

“You done whining or what?”

Rolling her eyes, V turns her head to see Johnny standing there as he takes a drag on his cigarette. Normally, she doesn’t mind him smoking around her, but after an exhausting night where things didn’t work out in her favor, she was quickly reaching her boiling point. “You better clean up all that ash on the floor when you’re done.”

“Since when did you start caring about this shithole of an apartment being neat?” Johnny comments, more so as a tease, and this earns him another scowl. “Don’t waste your energy on Cruz. He’ll get what’s coming to him.”

“Didn’t know you believed in karma,” V adds, narrowing her eyes.

Devilishly, he smirks at her, tossing the cigarette butt to the floor then crushing it with his shoe. “Hon, there’s a lot of things you still don’t know about me.”

“Yeah,” she agrees before brushing past Johnny. “I’m heading out.”

His figure glitches momentarily, reminding V that he was nothing but a ghost residing in her mind, despite how real he feels. Even if she wants to leave this “shithole of an apartment” for some semblance of peace and quiet, she knows Johnny will only follow. He’s tethered to her for what could possibly be the rest of her life.

And yet, no matter how big of an asshole Silverhand was, she’s grown fond of his presence.

Not that she would mention it out loud. Ever.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out,” V simply states, wondering what the point in Johnny asking her that question when he could easily find it out for himself was.

It’s truly unfair how he can read her thoughts, but she can’t read any of his.

He chuckles low. “Gon’ pay a joy toy to fuck tonight?”

“No, I’m going out for a drive, distract myself from that shitshow earlier. You better leave me alone.”

“Well, I’m a little insulted,” Johnny snorts, feigning offense. “I thought you liked my company.”

“I’m tired of your company. You never shut that mouth of yours.”

Before V could head to the door, she feels a metal hand encircling her wrist, holding her in place. She glances behind her, meeting Johnny’s deep, dark eyes, which hid a multitude of secrets. It’s been a while since she has felt a touch that wasn’t full of malice. Though his palm is cold from the material it’s made out of, a distinct heat spreads through her body—

It was a familiar warmth, one that radiates from V at his mere touch.

And when Johnny’s lips curl into a shit-eating grin, she knows that he has sensed it too.

“Shut my mouth? I think I can do something else much better than that.”

Johnny’s gravelly voice fuels the desire burning deep within V as he pulls her closer, her feet moving at their own accord. “God, I wish you came with an off-switch.”

“Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this little game we’ve been playing.”

V doesn’t respond, her pulse quickening with anticipation. She lets out a shuddering moan when Johnny leans in, his hot breath grazing her silky skin before his lips crash against hers, possessively. He floods V’s senses all at once as he hungrily kisses her, letting him take the reins.

It would be a lie for V to say she’s never pictured a moment like this. A moment where she finally succumbs to Johnny’s charm and allows him to lay claim on her. It’s always been a constant dance between the two, a chemistry disguised as indifference, a craving left unspoken. Amidst the degrading insults and the snarky attitudes, deep down, they have always wanted the same thing—

To fuck each other’s brains out.

“Still tired of my company, V?”

“Just shut the fuck up for once and take off your pants.”

The grin on his face hasn’t disappeared. It only grows broader. “Ask, and you shall receive.”

Johnny roughly grabs V at the waist, his fingers curling underneath the hem of her shirt as he pushes her towards the bed. His mouth latches onto her neck, no doubt marking her for all of Night City to see.

They fell onto the mattress without finesse, similar to how V kisses Johnny feverishly, all tongue and teeth. Void of tenderness and only driven by the urgency of lust. She was too distracted by her want to care for the taste of tobacco from his last smoke. The hands traveling every inch of V’s frame lights up a fire in her, bringing a high that no drug on the black market could ever do.

Surprisingly, Johnny allows her to take the lead for a bit when she straddles him, his hardening cock pressing up against her aching cunt. She gages his reaction as she grinds on his clothed erection, a wicked smile forming to the sight of him being teased.

“You like that, huh? Fuck, I can’t wait to have you inside of me.” She feels herself growing wetter and wetter, losing patience just as swiftly as the man under her.

Without warning, Johnny flips them both over, the length of his body now pressed against hers from above. He wastes no time peeling V’s shirt and bra off, pausing for the briefest of seconds to admire her bare breasts. His cybernetic hand squeezes one soft mound as his lips descend on the other. She moans, and they were pure music to his ears, sounds that were so beautiful he could write endless songs about them.

“J-Johnny,” V stutters out his name, unable to contain herself anymore. She doesn’t remember the last time someone has quickly reduced her into a mess, and desperately she wanted, needed more.

The way his name trembles from her mouth drives Johnny into a frenzy, simpering at the fact he really hasn’t done much yet, but it was enough to leave V quivering. She looks too sinful beneath Johnny, too delectable. He’s well-aware of how long she’s gone without sex, and he’s now bent on ending that sad streak of hers.

Hastily, Johnny removes V’s pants and underwear in one quick go, his gaze devouring her beauty like a starved man staring at his meal. “Wow, you’re fucking drenched down there.”

“Fuck,” she gasps, one hand reaching forward to grip at his lengthy locks as soon as he delves in to taste her dripping nectar for the first time.

“You enjoying yourself there, baby?” Johnny’s inquiry needs no response. He could already tell she is solely by the way her eyes flutter shut, her head lolling to the side.

One lick. Two licks. Three. He surely knew how to work that deft tongue of his.

Johnny’s cock continues to throb in the confines of his trousers as his lips encircle V’s swollen bud, but he doesn’t end there. She wants more, and he’s willing to give her just that.

More.

V squirms when two chrome fingers enter her heat, stretching out her walls to prepare her for the serious pounding coming up. She’s lost in the sensations, unable to form a coherent thought or word. Johnny’s tempo was slow at first; tantalizing, nearly torturous. But once he starts moving faster, pumping even harder and reaching that sweet, sweet spot of hers, she begins to pant wildly as she fucks herself on his hand to get more friction.

“Holy shit, you’re a goddess,” he croaks after pulling back to study the needy woman looking back at him through half-lidded eyes. V is tight around his fingers, and he could only imagine how it would be like with his cock buried deep inside her instead.

Each rough stroke of Johnny’s digits against her wet walls brought V closer and closer to the brink of orgasm, her moans increasing in both volume and frequency. He urges her to let go, whispering into her ear how he wants to see and feel her coming. The gruffness in his tone turned her on even more, and V soon finds herself falling over the precipice, flushing hot with euphoria as Johnny watches, awestruck.

Satisfied, he beams at his work, which was only half of what he intends to do this evening. Being gracious, Johnny gives V an ample minute to recover, using the downtime to wipe the glistening wetness coating his beard before tasting the juices he’s collected.

Delicious, he thinks. She tastes as good as she looks.

V eventually comes back to her senses, propping herself up on her elbows as she gazes at Johnny with an almost dazed expression. “Perhaps the rumors are actually true.”

“Which one?” Silverhand asks, ridding himself of his clothes at the foot of her bed.

V pauses prior to answering, the sound of metal clinking filling the air as he unbuckles his belt, stripping off his leather pants afterwards.

“That you’re the best pussy eater in town,” she then reveals, glancing up briefly to see the smug look on his face before her gaze falls to his groin again.

Of course, Johnny chooses to go commando, and no, she wasn’t shocked at all.  

Silently, she marvels at the dick nestled in a thick bush of dark hair. Girthy and long with a slight curve upwards, the thought of it being inside her, barely fitting, made her mouth water. He wasn’t lying when he casually mentioned having an impressive cock.

It definitely did not disappoint.

“Oh sweetheart, that was nothing,” Johnny declares before climbing back on top of V, settling in between her legs. “The main act is just beginning.”

She doesn’t wait for Johnny to kiss her. In an instant, V’s lips were on his, her tongue pushing into his mouth, faintly tasting herself at the same time. Meanwhile, Johnny grips the base of his leaking cock, rubbing its engorged head against her slick folds that had her breathing heavily. V cants her hips impatiently, and through their kiss, he chuckles at her eagerness.

“So desperate for my cock, aren’t you?” Johnny husks mockingly. “How badly do you want me, slut? I wanna hear you say it.”

A moan escapes her throat at his words as he rubs his tip against her clit. V wants him so, so bad that she’s begging incessantly, something she never does in any of her past fucks. Usually, she was in complete control, never the one to relinquish her power.

Maybe that was the reason why V was utterly drunk with pleasure from this steamy session with Johnny. It’s good not to be in control for once.

“Shit, Johnny. Please, just fuck me already. Fill me up,” V pleads, now helpless at this point. She has to come again, this time around his cock. She repeats her keening over and over again, hoping that it was enough to feed into Johnny’s ego and finally show her mercy.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

Tugging at his cock, Johnny forces V’s legs to spread wider as she waits for him, mesmerized. Her pussy was soaked from his ministrations, but when he starts pushing into V, the burning stretch of her walls trying to accommodate his thick length leaves her in tears.

Those tears, however, weren’t entirely from the pain. V was also shedding tears because of how full Johnny makes her feel.

“Fucking hell, V,” he groans as she clamps down on him. “You’re so fucking tight. Damn, why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“We were too busy pretending to hate each other,” V replies, digging her nails into Johnny’s back when he begins to move.

His thrusts are slow but rough— as if he’s getting accustomed to the wondrous feeling of being inside of V. It doesn’t last long, though. Johnny has always been a hard and fast kind of guy, the one that does two or three more rounds before passing out. He’s bragged about his amazing stamina as well, and despite V believing she could match it, she probably won’t be able to tonight.

Not when he’s fucking her into the mattress like this for their very first time together.

Johnny’s brutal pace doesn’t falter. He pounds into V harder, faster, rougher; as if his life depends on it, the obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh bouncing off every corner of the room. His slick pre-come mixes with her honeyed essence, allowing him to seamlessly reach the depths of her center. Sweat drips down the side of his face as he maneuvers his mechanical hand to wrap around V’s delicate neck, adding pressure when she doesn’t resist.

“That’s it, baby,” Johnny growls next to her ear, rolling his hips as he squeezes her throat tighter. “You’re making me feel so good. I’ve always known you were a dirty whore.”

V’s gasping and thrashing, but she doesn’t want him to stop. She loves the rush of blood through her head far too much, especially with Johnny slamming harshly into her. It gives her a thrill she has never experienced with anyone else. Pretty sure he’s ruining her for others.

But whether this was part of his intentions or not, V doesn’t know. Nor she cares enough to figure it out.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me, V. Look at you, taking all of my cock like the fucking slut you are. You’ve wanted this for a while, haven’t you? You practically dream about me every night, and don’t you deny it.”

She doesn’t. Johnny was right, though it doesn’t really matter at this very second. His hold on V loosens for her to speak, and she inhales as much air her lungs could possibly take. She could feel it again, the ultimate high she’s been chasing once more. Johnny’s shaft dragging against her pulsing walls brings her even closer to it, building up the pleasure rising in the pit of her stomach.

“I-I’m close,” V warns, the pressure inside her threatening to break free. “Shit, Johnny, I’m gonna come soon.”

Johnny’s hips jerked harder, causing V to cry out. “Yeah? You’re gonna come? Don’t worry, I’m gonna make sure you come on my cock.”

Halting, he drapes her left leg over his shoulder, allowing him to slide in deeper than he has before. Johnny then pushes his metallic thumb into V’s mouth, and without prompt, she swirls her tongue around it, coating it with her saliva. Not missing a beat, his movement resumes, all bruising and all punishing. He brings his wetted finger on her sensitive pearl, stroking it as if he’s playing his guitar on stage.

The change in angle proves to be the final straw for V, who’s litany of high-pitch moans spurs Johnny to fuck her even more forcefully. Again and again, she takes everything he gives her, and in turn, she encourages him to follow her into the abyss. Her pussy caresses his cock with every frantic push and pull, and she notices how he’s gradually picking up speed, losing his rhythm in the process.

“Your cunt belongs to mine now,” Johnny mutters, gritting his teeth, and it’s becoming clear to V that he’s holding back just for her. “Come on, V. Let go, let go for me.”

Lust-blown eyes lock with V’s own, wordlessly urging her one last time to come undone. Several sharp thrusts later, she finds herself clenching around Johnny’s cock, her orgasm shooting through her like a rain of bullets. Unabashedly, V shouts as her vision whitens, intense waves of ecstasy washing over her shaking body. She’s too absorbed in bliss to realize right away that Johnny was still in her, dick hard and ready for a similar release.

Once she finds her bearings, V grinds her hips against Johnny’s, and immediately, his nails dig into her as he begins to move inside her yet again.

“Don’t stop, Johnny,” she purrs, watching him fuck her with both fast and long strokes. “I want you to cum deep inside me, baby. Shit, I want it so badly. Please, give it to me. Please…”

With a strained moan, Johnny suddenly climaxes, snarling as he shoots searing ropes of his thick, creamy cum into V, painting her inner walls with white. His features contort with pleasure as he throws his head back, his breathing shallow and ragged. When his heart rate returns somewhat back to normal, he slowly pulls his softening cock out, smirking at the sight of his load dripping out of her.

Afterwards, he flops down beside V with a huff, joining her as she stares blankly up at the ceiling. Johnny clears his throat as he shifts closer to V, who instinctively rests her head on his chest. His cyber arm curls around her, and she sighs deeply, seemingly content.

“How about that for a fucking distraction?” He says, recalling how the two of them got here in the place. “Don’t even have to go on a ride to clear your mind. Feel free to ride me instead.”

V laughs at his jest. “It was a great fuck, the best one I’ve ever had if I’m honest. But I’m still going after Cruz.”

Johnny hums in response, seeing V’s weary eyes growing heavier. “Fine, but just to let you know, what happened between us isn’t a one-time thing.”

“Fuck, I hope not. You’re stuck with me till the end of the world, buddy.”

“It’s a good thing you have an amazing pussy then.”

V smacks him lightly as exhaustion begins to take over. Sure, she was still pissed she didn’t get her eddies, but at least now she knows the prick named Johnny Silverhand was surprisingly a cuddler.

And that piece of information was worth gold.

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[superhero--imagines]

Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info

Part 2 Here!/ Part 3 Here! / Playlist Here!

* Sorry guys but this mans been living in my head rent free

* So the first time you see Satoru it’s with those black specs he likes to wear and you get a glance at those GORGEOUS eyes

* He meets your eyes for a second before looking away, it’s the briefest of interactions

* But your heart is racing and you can feel the familiar heat of attraction starting to lap at your face

* ‘He looks just like a prince’ you think

* You find out pretty fast the ‘prince’ similarities stop at appearance

* “Ah it’s not my fault you’re so weak~” You hear him say with the princely smile as he teases Utahime

* It looks like he’s held something so high she can’t reach it

* “Try your best, if you drink plenty of milk I’m sure you’ll be tall enough one day~” he says before laughing with that same princely face

* “You shouldn’t pick on those that are weaker than you” Geto intervenes, somehow making the entire situation worse

* You watch as Gojo laughs

* You’re starting to think he might be the real curse you need to exorcise

* You continue watching him as Utahime tries to kick him in the crotch

* “You silly girl, did you forget there’s an infinity between us?” Cue Gojo’s “A-hahahahaha” laugh

* Yeah, he’s definitely a demon

* You keep your distance, Gojo’s beautiful and all, but you’re not dumb, you’ve heard about the Satoru clan.

* “Hey Geto-Kun, who do you think would win in a fight me or a lion?”

* Besides that guy is way too reckless, you’d rather not get all mixed up in that if you can help it

* You watch as Satoru takes his shirt off, his well defined chest glistening

* Still, you’re grateful for the show

* Little do you know the famous Gojo Satoru has taken note of you as well

* Naturally given his ability he notices everyone, but he especially takes note of you

* It’s not because you stand out, quite the opposite

* You blend into the background easily, supporting others when needed

* But not to the degree where you unable to defend yourself, or you’re sacrificing your own life for someone else

* He grins

* Looks like he found something interesting

* You’re at the vending machine eyes racking over the drink selection

* But there’s another thirst quenching sight right next to you, their hand resting on the vending machine, that princely smile aimed right at you-

* “So what do you say?” Satoru asks, and you start to wonder if that princely smile seems just a bit wolfish “Do you want to be my lover?”

* You’re kind of annoyed

* What an impetuous question, you can count on one hand how many times you’ve spoken to each other, and you only need both hands to count the words said in each of those encounters

* “No”

* You turn your attention back to your drink choices, it’s pleasant weather so you don’t want anything hot.

* Anything carbonated is out of the-

* Gojo moves closer, peering into your face with that grin

* Ugh does he have to stand so close

* “Why ‘no’? I know you think I’m attractive”

* “I also think you’re a womanizer with a god complex”

* And really why shouldn’t he be?

* He’s probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life, not to add the sheer power he contains in that body of his

* But just as he has the right to be a womanizer with a god complex, you have the right not to take part in that narrative

* He backs away, leaning back against the wall

* So he’s not going to deny it

* Well, at least he’s somewhat self aware

* Those clear blue eyes catch yours again, and you have to fight against every human instinct from showing any human reaction

* You turn back to the vending machine making your selection when a smile lilts onto his mouth

* “Friends then”

* “Just colleagues” you reply, grabbing your drink

* But as you walk by you push a canned beverage into his chest.

* It’s a can of green tea

* It’s his favorite drink

* He looks to you seeing a bottle glinting in your hand

* So you didn’t sacrifice your own thirst, but you also didn’t ignore his needs

* He feels that same wolffish grin curl onto his mouth

* “What an entertaining person”

* After that if you’re anywhere within a 50 feet radius of him he’ll go out of his way to get your attention

* “Oh wow, looking especially radiant this morning (Y/N/N)” he’ll say with a playful seductive wink

* When you don’t respond he tries annoying you instead

* “Ah you can’t reach that? Here let me-” and then he’ll proceed to hold it even further out of your reach

* He’s expecting you to jump up and down, or at least give some sort of response but you just walk away

* Well that wasn’t what he expected

* He feels that grin spread across his face again

* Very interesting

* His attraction to you is pretty shallow

* He’s interested you because you’re entertaining

* And you’re entertaining because you aren’t interested

* Which only makes him that much more interested in you

* Its a paradox

* You watch him flounder around, annoying Utahime for a giggle

* Well it doesn’t matter anyway, you know how he is, he’ll get bored soon enough and lose all interest in you

* He’s not the strongest {f*ckboy} for nothing

* You see him turn to meet your gaze, offering a boyish smile and a wink

* You make sure not to give any reaction, turning to listen to something Shoko is telling you

* You hope he can’t sense the twinge of heat you feel on your face

* You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find the attention a little flattering

* I think for the most part you’re right, Satoru is mostly playing around-

* At least at first.

* You’re just something new and fun no one knows about, and wildly entertaining since you never respond the way he thinks you will

* You’re kind, but not at the expense of yourself, and he likes that

* Besides you’ve got this quite sort of consideration for others-

* It’s not flashy, it’s so subtle most people hardly notice

* It’s in the way you bring an extra snack for Utahime when she’s running herself ragged training

* “They were having a two for one special”

* Or the way you’ll get your teacher a plushie you saw at a shop at the station because you know he needs more

* “I just thought it was cute, but I haven’t got any room for another one”

* You’re quiet, someone who hears things and she’s things, but never says anything about them

* A wallflower

* But you’re not weak

* There’s something about those two things put together in the same person that entertains him to no end. Like a paradox or a puzzle he can’t seem to solve no matter how hard he tries

* Satoru’s had at least a hundred lovers, and a great many of them had provided him with their own brand of kindness and consideration

* But he’s never felt something as warm as when he see’s a lunch box in his dorm after he hobbles back from a mission that lasted a little longer than expected

* He peers at the note attached, it’s not even signed but he knows it’s from you

* “I know you think you’re god or whatever, but even gods have to eat”

* He doesn’t know why, but he’s overcome with the urge to cry

* He gulps hard- it’s not like this a lunch you made by hand or anything, it’s just something from the convenience store

* And it’s not like this note is particularly affectionate or special either, he’s gotten entire love letters from his previous lovers

* So he’s not sure why he saves your note, placing it behind a picture frame where only he’ll know it is , or why he thinks that convenience store lunchbox is the most delicious thing he’s ever had

* Even though he knows he cares about you, and that he’s grown quite fond of you -

* I don’t think it clicks for him

* And part of that is because well, he’s Gojo Satoru

* He collects lovers like some people collect photographs or memories

* They serve their purpose, and he lets himself be entertained by pretending all the feelings are real, and then he moves on to the next one

* It’s just what he’s used to

* And this whole paradox you two have going on could go on for a few years until something finally shifts

* He went a little too far with one his half-flirting-half-tormenting pranks

* And for the first time you give him a reaction, it’s only for a second, but annoyance and anger mar you face

* And then just like that, it’s gone and you turn and walk off in the other direction

* Sh*t.

* He went too far didn’t he?

* It should be fine right? You’re not too mad at him right? You’ll get over it-

* Right?

* But for the next few days you don’t speak to him, and you don’t make eye contact

* It bothers him more than it should

* Normally he would be annoyed that his toy would have the gall to blatantly ignore him like this-

* But this is different than that.

* He’s-

* He’s feeling regret

* He shouldn’t have acted that way to you, maybe if he had just done something differently, or said something differently-

* It’s not like the way things were between you two was ideal or anything,

* But at least then you would at least speak to him

* ... and every once in while he would get to see you smile

* It’s never at him, it’s mostly when you’re with Shoko or Utahime

* Occasionally when you’re with Nanami or Geto, who you’ve been talking to more recently

* He’s pretty sure you three are talking about him, just one day away from forming a “down with Gojo Satoru” club

* Still that smile when you laugh-

* The way you look so carefree and young and so full of life is worth all the slander in the world to him

* He needs to see that smile, to know something that wholesome and kind exists somewhere in this cruel world

* Satoru’s thinking about how to go about apologizing to you

* He’s caught between buying you a Lamborghini or buying you a special grade tool when he ends up running into you

* “Ah, could you help me with something?”

* He would quite literally give you the clothes on his back right now if you asked

* You stand up on a a chair holding a glass of water

* “Apparently this is supposed to help with concentration or something” You say pressing the glass full of water to the ceiling

* “Can you hold this broom?” You ask and Satoru nods, holding the broom handle steady as you make sure it’s pushed against the glass holding it steady

* You nod approvingly down at him

* The rest happens pretty fast, you’re off the chair, carrying it away

* “The broom is actually a special grade tool, so cursed energy won’t work on it”

* You grin

* “Have fun figuring how to get out of that Baka Prince!” You say with a laugh

* And Satoru is dumbfounded

* But not because you just pranked him into a holding up a glass of water with a broom

* But because as you were rushing away, you showed him your teasing grin

* It’s the first time you smiled at him

* And as he looks up at the glass of water, a smile slowly spreads across his face

* It’s not the wolffish smile he usually has when he’s around you, or the princely smile he uses when he’s trying to get something

* It’s a genuine smile

* Ah, so that’s it

* He’s fallen in love with you

* If you’re not the one entertaining him, then he’s just not interested

* Ah geez

* He was so focused on trying to get you to fall in love with him that he really didn’t see this coming

* Well he’ll have to start being serious about pursuing you now-

* Though for you to pull off something like this on him tells him you’re his ideal match without a doubt

* A wallflower with a mischievous streak, he likes that.

* He scratches his head with his free hand

* “I wonder how I’m supposed to get out of this?” He muses looking up at the glass full of water

[nikmikaelsonswife]

Facefucking With Klaus.

warnings: erotic scenes for mature audiences below the cut, oral (male receiving), bodily fluids, swearing, more of bby being the sexy mf he is

a/n: gif isn’t mine. 500 followers fic coming soon. a thanks for all the love on cockwarming w/ klaus. this went farther than i expected but i don’t regret it. enjoy.

the two of you had come back from a long awaited date, one to revive the romance between you that the both of you refused to allow to fade.

and there you were before him, after a heated kiss, your lips swollen and reddened in the absence of your lipstick.

a thin strap of your black dress had fallen down your shoulder, hair unruly from the way klaus had gently massaged your scalp in the car and fisted it when his lips were on yours. despite those, you still seemed as perfect as ever to him, as fuckable as ever.

the vibe was set just right, as your hand had been stuck to his thigh throughout the ride home, the tips of your manicured nails brushing over his crotch. teasing him ever since he’d first seen you in that dress that adorned your curves in a way that dried his mouth and took his breath away.

the same dress that he pulled over your head, leaving you in only a thong. “beautiful.” he would be forever grateful to call you his.

it had all been a build up to this moment. there was no denying that you were the most gorgeous thing, and nothing made him feel more like a king when you fell to your knees and gazed up at him under those thick lashes, eyes clouded with vast desire and love — only for him.

you didn’t have to ask what was going through his mind, didn’t need his eyes to tell you everything as they always did before he spoke a word. the noticeable bulge in his slacks was more than enough.

your fingers found his zipper, freeing him from his confines after you slipped them off along with his briefs. you bit your lip at the sight of his large cock, shock in your expression despite the countless times you’d seen it.

truth of the matter was, you’d never get used to his size. which made it all the more enjoyable as it felt like the first time every time.

trust shone in your eyes as he took hold of your face, thumbs stroking the skin beneath your eyes. “open your mouth, sweetheart.”

obeying, you parted your lips, keeping your gaze on his as he slowly guided his length inside your mouth.

when your tongue came in contact with his shaft, he groaned, eyes fluttering to leave his eyelids hooded.

he moved until he hit the back of your throat, and you held onto his strong thighs for support in anticipation for what was to come.

you didn’t have to wait long, as he immediately began to roll his hips, but at a slower pace than you expected from him.

he was testing himself, trying to get a grip on how close he was to the edge, wanting to enjoy the warmth of your mouth for as long as he could.

you didn’t make it easy, staring up at him like that with your luscious breasts on display. taking control even though you were the one on your knees.

his hands slid into your hair, gripping the strands tight as he began to quicken his pace.

you relaxed your throat the faster he went, heat pooling between your thighs at the way klaus threw his head back and let out a loud groan.

his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he fucked your mouth, thrusting his hips at a speed that made it difficult not to gag.

tears leaked from your eyes, wetting your cheeks, but you enjoyed the assault nevertheless.

it caused your core to pulse almost painfully, nipples hard as saliva dripped from your mouth, ran down your breasts and onto the sensitive buds.

you moaned around him, pushing him further toward the brink, his cock thickening and pulsing between your lips.

your gripped his wrist, burning eyes wide open as they stared up at him, wordlessly pleading for it.

and when his heated gaze met yours, you dropped your hand from his wrist to knead your breast, thumbing at your nipple, causing a drawn out moan to erupt from his throat.

“you’ll be the death of me, i swear it. you’re doing so good, love.”

he began to slow, gently pulling you off of him. “i want to come inside that pretty little cunt.”

he helped you up by your elbows before finding your lips once more, his teeth clashing against your own.

you yelped when he ripped your thong, the material snapping against your skin before it fell to shreds.

you fell together on the bed, your legs instinctively spreading to allow klaus in between, his hips keeping them apart.

you groaned in sync when his cock slid against your entrance, a small smirk moving to his lips as he was drenched in your arousal.

his hands returned to your hair as he rolled his hips against your own, quelling the harsh ache at your core.

your hands slid down to his ass, pulling him impossibly closer, “please, baby. fuck me.”

he obliged without hesitation, guiding himself to slip inside with ease. the stretch was delicious, as it caused you to throw your head back in awe. “fuck.”

klaus groaned in your ear, his hand finding your throat and pressing against the hollow. he pulled out before slamming back in, a strangled yell leaving your lips in response.

you gripped his back as he picked up and drilled into your pussy at a speed that reminded you of his inhuman nature, your body convulsing and tingling as it went into overdrive at the overwhelm of pleasure.

and the way your body was wired to take it all reminded you of your own.

“klaus...” you gasped as you clenched around him, liquid ecstasy washing over your entire body, the high feeling impossibly better than the last.

his gaze stayed on your face as you came, and you could tell that he was holding back. “come with me. give it to me. please.”

warmth as well as a certain hunger darkened his azure irises. “as you wish, my love.” he tightened his grip around your throat before he rutted into you faster than recently before, your body heating as a another orgasm followed quickly after the one before it.

his other hand found yours, fingers slipping between your own as he exploded, grunting as he released, coating your walls.

“i love you so much,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips.

you grinned breathlessly, “ill say it back after another round.”

[leagueoflegendsimagines]

Hello, love your work! May I request SFW + NSFW headcannons for Zed?

As a disclaimer, the difference in age between Zed and the reader isn't too great. Around 7 or 8 years - and by the time their relationship starts, the reader is a young adult. Around 20 years old.

Second disclaimer: this is a very long post. I apologize to anon for that.

SFW:

- You met Zed in a very unexpected way and, truth to be told, you never imagined that you two might ever become lovers.

- You became a honorific member of the Order of Shadows because Zed was indebted to your parents. As strong political figures in the world of Ionia, they had helped him and his Order many times - standing by his side from the dark, misty shadows of the councils. Supporting his cause.

- When they died - assassinated, nonetheless - you were heartbroken. But, as their only child, you were sent to the safest place in Ionia: Zed's sanctuary.

- Zed silently mourned the tragic death of your parents. And while he could hardly swallow the fact that such a young girl - barely a woman - would live in his order, it was the least he could do for your deceased mother and father.

- The first time he saw you... he felt a pang of shock and nostalgia. As a child, you looked identical to your mother. But now... now you looked like neither of your parents.

- No, you looked like your grandmother. A woman full of prestige and respect in the whole land. A woman Zed had always respected with his whole devotion. Willing to fight for Ionia until her very last drop of blood - a dignified and incredibly strong woman, both in body and soul.

- Physically, you did look like her. But... ah, yes. The determination and steel in your eyes. Yes, you shared the same spirit as her.

- Maybe that's why Zed took such a high interest in you. Maybe that's why he started, little by little, to care for you more than he should've ever allowed himself to.

- As time passed, you started opening yourself more to him - and to the members of the order.

- You had vowed to avenge your parents, no matter what. You had a strong character - but, at the same time, you were as gentle as the first rays of dawn and as brilliant as the sun of a bright July afternoon.

- You exhaled spring and summer. You were a breath of pure, refreshing air in the dark, hallowed hallways of Zed's home.

- For the order, you were a direct example of the things they were fighting for. In you, they saw every young girl or woman of Ionia, wishing for a brighter and better future - innocent as the melting snow of a late spring.

- Zed didn't keep you under a lock in the order. He would take you to the vast hills, forests and waterfalls to be found outside of the grim labyrinth he dedicated his life to.

- He spent so many hours watching you harvest the bounty of summer and autumn. With a white summer dress and that wide straw hat you would wear you looked like an innocent, sinful delight.

- Zed realized too late that his platonic desire to watch you slowly turned into brewing lust.

- It came to his mind one August evening as he watched you from underneath an old tree. He kept a close eye on you, admiring your sun kissed skin in contrast to the yellow dress you were wearing. It only made everything else brighter. Your eyes, your smile. The rainbow of gentle, soft colors in your hair, shining like precious stones under the sun.

- When he caught the shiver of lust wrecking his body, he recoiled in repulsion.

- Repulsion directed to his own person.

- You were his friends' daughter.

- How could he even think of you as a woman?

- Of course, he was well aware of your beauty. You ravished the heart of one too many disciples. They wouldn't even dare to make a move - you were Zed's most prized protege.

- Not even Kayn dared say anything about you - in his absence or presence.

- After all, Zed had eyes and ears everywhere.

- From then on, Zed became distant. Cold.

- You figured it out fairly quickly. As innocent as you were, you knew the power of your own charms. The power of your youth.

- You didn't have to be a beauty or an incredibly attractive woman - you only had to be yourself. And that was enough.

- Your smile, your youthful energy... it ravished him.

- Oh, how he longed to bask in your light - to enjoy the gentle sun of youth in your presence. You were a sun to him, warming up his calloused heart.

- For your young age, you were incredibly intuitive and sensitive to the energy of those around you. And, of course, you easily felt the effect you had on him.

- After all, it was quite similar to the effect you had on his students. But... it left you confused. Vulnerable. So similar, yet so different.

- Things were different with him. While you wouldn't have minded the shameless flirt with one disciple or another, only to burst into a childish smile full of radiance and leave them yearning for more as you ran outside to play or dance your worries away - with Zed things were so tense and...

- You couldn't really describe it. You didn't know what Zed would do, after all. What would happen if you flirted with him?

- Would he scold you the way he did when you trained with him? Would he accept it? Would he give in?

- You shivered at the thought of how he might react. When he allowed you to go to visit the few female friends you had in nearby villages - always followed in the shadows by him or the guards he assigned you, of course - you would hear so many stories. You had a vague idea of what love meant for a woman. Or... what to expect. But you were too innocent to know the full extent of it.

- Yet, you felt lust. Zed was a dominant and strong man. It was hard not to, as you grew older and older until you reached your ripest moment of youth. It was hard to not observe or admire him with the eyes of a woman.

- One of your friends once called him delicious.

- You couldn't help but agree.

- Your slow dance around each other came to an end one late October evening.

- It had been a cold, rainy day. As such, you spent it inside the Order's headquarters, reading and lazing around with your novels. As you got bored, you moved in silence to Zed's study.

- He knew you were sneaking in - but he never said anything to scold or push you away.

- You were his one guilty weakness, after all. The only one he could afford.

- Zed did it only because he knew you would be safer with him than with anyone else in this world.

- As you sneaked in, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders the way you always did. But this time... this time, things would be different. For a moment, you briefly wondered if he could feel your erratic heartbeat.

- But as no objection came from him, you leaned to look over his shoulder with a hum. "You're working too much." He only answered to you with a soft tap on the paper - a warning.

- With a bold move, you slipped into his lap with an apologetic smile. "You should work less now - and pay more attention to me instead."

- You felt him grow stiff under your soft weight. Surprised. Shocked. Caught unaware. You knew how much Zed hated it - but you couldn't sit around doing nothing. Not anymore.

- "You have grown very spoiled, little sun." You heard him grit his teeth, a low growl in his voice. A very obvious and threatening warning. You were pushing him too far.

- Still, what would happen if he were to break?

- So you did it.

- You shifted your position to a more daring one, your warm thighs enveloping his lap in a bold statement. Maybe this shocked him too much into stillness. Maybe this is why he didn't move in the slightest as you took off his mask - and pressed a soft kiss on his pale, cold lips.

NSFW:

- Unsurprisingly, your action killed Zed inside. He wasn't a person to chase physical pleasure. When he reached a point of frustration, he would find one or two willing women to quench his lust - no emotions, no second meetings.

- But you were different. You were something to be loved and cherished. You were... innocent. Pure.

- Maybe not so innocent - that was his impression as he looked down on you with angry, dilated pupils. As much as you tried to cower under his unnerving glance, as much as you tried to look innocent... you knew it wouldn't work on him.

- You also knew that, no matter what might happen next, you wouldn't regret it.

- You only hoped it would help settle the fire between your thighs, so closely and intimately pressed to his.

- What you didn't expect was the tight grip on your shoulders, pushing you back against his desk until he was above you - a whimper escaping your lips as his hot, throbbing pelvis pressed between your quivering thighs. Your rumpled dress left your legs exposed, vulnerable. It almost made you feel ashamed.

- "I believe someone is feeling their age a bit too much." His heated words, right next to your ear, made your breath hitch. It sent almost painful shivers down your body, warming your flesh down to your toes.

- Even for his solitary life, Zed was still a very experienced man. He was a perfectionist. He would always be an expert in everything he did - combat, reading people or pleasing his partners.

- As such, he knew how to read you like an open book.

- He also knew how to drive you crazy.

- If you wanted him, so be it.

- But he would make you earn it. And he would make you pay for being a little brat with him.

- "Do you think I'm one of my students, little sun? Do you think I'll accept your teasing and let you run away?" He watched you shake your head with a teary daze in your bright eyes. Yes, the lust was getting to you. And as he rolled his hips against you with a strength and force only he possessed, he realized it was getting to his head as well - more rapidly so as he heard your stifled, confused little moan.

- "Or do you want something more? Is that why you've been looking with those hungry eyes at me these past months? Is that why you're more focused on staring at my body than learning proper combat?" Another roll - another moan from your innocent, untouched rosy lips. It sent such delicious ripples of pleasure down his spine.

- "Do you truly want to know how a man feels? Do you think you're prepared for that?" Your spine arched painfully against him - and Zed didn't waste the opportunity to wrap his strong arm around your body, biting down almost painfully on your shoulder.

- You were a shivering mess in his arms, almost crazy with lust and desire.

- And nothing had ever felt more like home than the moment when he filled you so deeply with his cock, driving into you like a man dying of thirst - or the moment you rested your head on his shoulder, wrapped in his warmth and security. Safe. Home.

- He was your home.

- At that point, Zed knew he couldn't let you go. Not until you would push him away mercilessly.

- Until then, he would always be by your side.

- In lovemaking, Zed is a very dominant man. He enjoys your innocence and youth. He enjoys how small you are or how well you fit in his arms. There's nothing he adores more than holding your hands above your head or behind your back, fucking you roughly into the soft and almost luxurious covers of his bed.

- There's nothing he enjoys more than hearing your almost pained moans, feeling you quiver in intense, almost overwhelming pleasure.

- He is quite a large man - but by the time he gives in to your desire, you would be more than ready for him. He always takes his time with foreplay, prolonging it and frustrating you to no end.

- He adores edging you. Bringing you to the brink of orgasm time after time after time - only to offer you, with his cock, the satisfaction you desire.

- You will never feel lacking when it comes to your sex life. And while you do have your own problems, like every couple, Zed has enough wisdom and experience to deal with them in a mature and calm manner - and to show you the way to do so as well.

[lokislastlove]

Come One, Come All! (Dark!Loki x Reader) p.3

Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, knife play, oral (m&f), smut, bondage, kidnapping

This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!

Authors Note: ok last chapter! It’s just smut basically... or my attempt at it. @darkficsyouneveraskedfor did the best she could to clean it up for me. Poor girl.

Chapter 3:

You squeak in surprise as your weight is supported mostly by your ankles, head slipping dangerously close to the knife above you. He laughs as he watches you wiggle on the board, blood rushes to your head quickly.

“Perfect” he says as he removes the knife from near your scalp and cuts the lace bra from your body.

He lets out a low hum, dragging his long fingers over your tits. He pauses a moment to pinch each nipple, twisting harshly and pulling before letting them go. You hiss at the slight pain while he admires your hardening buds.

He draws tantalizing circles around each nipple with the knife as you try to keep still, afraid he might cut you. You can’t fight the goosebumps that rise due to the cold knife on your hot skin.

“Stop” you sob as tears run across your forehead and into your hairline.

“I thought all women enjoyed a little foreplay” he jokes.

“No, I don’t want this, please stop” you try to shake your head but your cheek grazes a knife still implanted in the wall next to you.

“Lies” he says tossing the knife to the ground.

He brings both hands up, tickling along your chest and gives a harsh slap to each breast. He cups them roughly, digging his fingertips in to the tender skin as he squeezes them.

You try not to scream at the overstimulation, you’ve never had someone give them this much attention before. He plays with them until they are so sensitive you pant and push your back into the wooden wheel to try to get away from him.

You bite your tongue to hold in any noise, knowing that is all he wants. He wants you to submit.

“Let’s see what else you have for me to play with” his large soft hands slide down, or up, your stomach to the hem of your shorts.

More tears fall as he slips his digits into your shorts and teases the sensitive skin of your pelvis. One finger slips down your slit, dipping in to find your clit. You flinch as he rubs slow circles over it.

You try not to react, but the adrenaline, the blood flowing to your head, and the shadow of his touch on your chest makes it hard to focus on anything but the way he touches your clit.

He slips one hand out from under your shorts but leaves the other to play with you as he unbutton them. Your head tilts to look at what he’s doing, he can’t possibly get the shorts off in this position.

To your horror, he grips the fabric on each side of the zipper and tears the shorts straight down the middle. You let out a startled scream at the display of pure strength, the fabric tearing along the seam and he pulls each piece away until you feel the cool air along your panties.

“Mm, already wet for me,” he hums in delight seeing your wet undies cling to your lips.

He crooks a single finger and pulls the underwear aside and leans in to lick a firm line along your slit. His tongue is warm and slippery and you tense as you try to fight your growing arousal. He licks long and slow and brings his hands to pull your lips apart, exposing your pussy to him fully.

“Such a pretty little whore,” he smirks before diving in.

He alternates between circling your bud and dipping his tongue into your hole. Each time he changes it makes you twitch and without thinking you arch your back. A moan finally breaks free as he sucks on your clit hard.

“That’s it. Sing for me,” he orders, voice deep with desire.

He feasts on you, getting more wild with each sound you make. It’s as if he wants to push you to your climax as quickly as possible. He pulls your clit into his mouth again and shakes his head side to side and you wail as you push your pelvis against his bewitching tongue.

You tense as you prepare to fall over that pleasurable cliff but you are left wanting when he pulls away suddenly. You sob as the ache of your orgasm fades away and your head snaps up to look at him.

“Wha-?” You mumble.

“You didn’t think I’d let you come before me,” he laughs at the pathetic desperation in your eyes.

You close your eyes, disgusted at yourself for falling for his tricks. Just a few light touches and he has you burning for him.

Your eyes pop open when you hear the gentle zip of his slacks. He slips his hands into his briefs and pulls out his throbbing cock. You watch as he pumps it a few times, precum dripping from the tip as he nears your face.

“Open wide, darling,” he lilts.

You bite your lips and close your eyes again, just to spite him. You aren’t sure you can take all of him, and your head is already pounding.

“Not wise to fight me with those knives so close to that pretty face,” he snickers as he taps his velvety tip against your mouth.

You open your mouth, let’s just get it over with, you think. He slips inside slowly and lets out a long breath. You can’t see his face from this angle but you feel himlooking at you.

He gently places his hand on your neck as he pushes in steadily, and plunges to the back of your throat. You gag as he fills your mouth and you hold back a heave. Your eyes roll back as he blocks your ragged breathes. The lack of oxygen and the pulsing of blood in your head is intense and uncomfortable.

He stays there, deep down your throat for a few seconds, his public hair tickling your chin, as you struggle against your bonds.

With a sigh he pulls back allowing you a choking breath. You cough as you try to recover.

“Would you like me to spin you back upright?” He asks softly and runs his fingers lightly over your lips and down your neck.

“Yes, please,” you beg.

“So polite,” he praises. “But no.”

He cackles as he shoves his cock back into your mouth and fucks your face. You can do nothing but hang there as he pounds the back of your throat, slowing now and again to push further down making you gag around him. He speeds up at every cough or gag.

“You pretend not to like it, but look at this dripping cunt,” he says slapping your pussy and you scream around his dick.

The stimulation of your voice tips him over the edge and he pours his seed in the back of your throat. Gravity makes it difficult to swallow so you cough and spit up his cum as he pulls away.

You’re still coughing and dizzy when he twists the board back into place so you are upright. The pressure in your head takes a moment to subside. You make a show of spitting out as much of his seed as you can, aiming in his direction. He smiles at your attempts and proceeds to remove the remaining daggers from the wall, using the last one to slice away the stray bits of your clothes.

He tosses the knife away and kneels down in front of you and you tense in anticipation. With a smirk, he pops open the cuff on your left ankle, and moves over to release the right, letting your feet drop back to the center so that you can support some weight on your toes. You breathe a sigh of relief as the bite of the metal around your feet relents.

“You know, you make me almost miss performing,” he grins and flashes his sparkling white teeth. “I loved making the crowd hang on my every move. Oh, the way they used to gasp or cheer with just a flick of my wrist. Mmm, maybe I’ll keep you as my assistant.” He hums as he stands in front of you, taking you all in.

“Thanks, but I don’t think I’d make a very good hooker,” you insult.

His eyes flicker at your comment and his smile fades so fast it almost makes you regret your jab.

“Let’s see how long you can keep that fire” he growls deeply, grasping your hips.

His fingers dig into your bones before he drags them down the outside of your thighs. He hooks them under your ass and lifts up your lower half. He pins your legs around his hips as his hardening cock prods at your entrance. His green eyes bore into yours as he finally sinks into you.

He is larger than any other man you have encountered and he relishes in the pain painted clearly across your face. As he brings his pelvis flush to yours, he pauses and hums at the feeling.

“I knew you’d have a tight cunt. Hng. It’s delicious, darling.” He groans as he slides in and out.

“S-stop calling me that,” you grunt.

You shriek when he responds with a jarring smack to your ass. You clench around his cock by accident. He laughs and pounds into you harder between spanks. You can feel him beating against your cervix and you twist your hips as you try to relieve the pressure.

“Please, oh god, it hurts,” you sob as you shake your head.

“You love it,” he hisses.

“No, no. Please!” You scream and pull against the cuffs, trying desperately to put some space between his cock and your cervix and wiggle his hands from your ass.

He digs his nails into your ass cheeks and picks you up and drops you on his dick until you scream in agony and pleasure. The pleasure catches you by surprise but you feel that coil twisting in your stomach no matter how hard you fight it and no matter how much it hurts.

He sees your eyes go wide and you bite your lip when he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside of you and he focuses his attention there.

You gasp when he drops one of your legs, opting to use his fingers on your overstimulated clit. He rubs hard circles until you are crying and pleading him to let it end. A shiver rolls down your spine as you race to your peak, your body tensing and your breathing erratic. Just a little more, anything to push you over that last hurdle.

“Should I let you come this time, darling?” he whispers into your ear.

“Yes. Fuck. Please, please,” you beg frantically, terrified he will deny you again.

You no longer recognize yourself, reduced to a needy pathetic mess. Nothing else matters except for that ache, the desperation to come overloading every other sensation or thought.

His deep chuckle in your ear makes you cringe and your pussy clenches as he speeds up his thrusts.

“Very well, come for me now, darling,” he commands and pinches your clit between two fingers.

You curse and scream as the squeeze tips you over the ledge, your cunt constricting around his length as your body arches into him. He pumps into you as you continue falling, toes curling and shoulders scraping the chipped wood board at your back. You delight in the euphoria and relief that washes over you all at once.

You come down from the longest orgasm of your life, your pussy easing slightly as your vision returns slowly, though your ears still buzz. Through your lashes you see his face, smug and cruel, as his hips stutter announcing his own release.

“Yes. I think I’ll keep you for a while longer.” He breathes into your neck as you feel him pull out of you.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen

[mitsukui]

cherry explosion | b.w.

Pairing: Bill Weasley x female reader.

Summary:  unexpectedly, Bill finds a way to give you the best New Year’s Eve you have ever had.

Word Count: 1,7k.

Warnings: smut! Oral sex (female receiving). Mentions of alcohol, drinking, and one-night stands ending badly.

Disclaimer: none of the pictures used in the edit below belong to me; I simply put them together.

A/N: sending all of my love to those who are spending their New Year’s Eve by themselves! Dear @maddi-sun18​, thank you so much for the request, and I hope this can bring you some comfort. Please, leave me some feedback if you feel like it! My askbox is open for your opinions, thoughts and requests. Thank you so much for your time and attention ❤

Masterlist!

Sometimes, it was so easy to read men. Their actions were so predictable, and they never failed to act exactly the same as the ones who had been there previously.

You wondered if there was some sort of training for young gentlemen on how to pick up girls at hotel bars. There seemed to be four steps for a man to follow in order to get lucky: one – exchange looks with the chosen pretty girl; two – lure the prey by offering her a fizzy and fruity drink; three – make small conversation, and say she is different from any other girl in the room; and, finally, four – get into her panties.

All of that was bullshit, and you would never fall for it.

And, perhaps, that was why you panicked a bit when a painfully attractive man approached you in a different way.

“Hey.” He shot you a small, yet, charming smile. “Do you mind if I sit here? If I listen to Patricia Rakepick talking about her adventures in Japan for one more bit, I might die.”

Both of you were taking part in an international conference on Curse-Breaking. The event had gathered wizards and witches from all around the globe, which caused Gringotts to rent a few areas on a muggle hotel in London for it. Although it was a knotty task for so many people to act as if they had no magical powers rushing through their veins, every participant seemed to be doing well on their own.

His presence there was perfectly reasonable, once he was a Curse-Breaker himself. Yours, however, was a bit questionable. You, as a columnist for the Daily Prophet, had been asked to cover the event, and could not be any less excited about it.

It was New Year’s Eve. All you wanted to do was go home to your family and friends.

While many people were not shy on showing their personal preference for Christmas, you were crazy about New Year’s Eve. The upcoming novel 365 days for you to live as if they were your last, the fancy dresses you always insisted on wearing, the taste of fizzy and fruity drinks lingering in your mouth until January 1st – all of that meant something to you, as brainless as it sounded.

Your peevish ways were soon destroyed by his sudden presence and polite attitudes. After you agreed with his company, it did not take long until you were laughing about the event and the people attending it.

As a matter of fact, Curse-Breakers were rather odd and monotonous people. The man with fiery, long hair seemed to be a clear exception to them, with his exotic fang earring, and his dragonhide boots. He also was to be the only good-looking one in that crowded bar, in that stupidly sophisticated hotel.

He was surprising you second by second. Breaking every single trait of loathing you had piled up for men, due to failed relationships and other women’s reports, he was showing himself as a funny and respectful man.

Between a few drinks, you had talked about his insanely big family, your repetitive daily life, his experiences in Egypt, and how you accidently had Apparated in Colombia once, being left without any knowledge of Spanish.

There was something sweet and intoxicating about him; about the way he asked to hold your hand while you were talking, and about the way he confessed and apologized for being unable to stop staring at your lips and wondering what they felt like.

“They probably taste like cherries now.” You leaned in and whispered, the dizzy sensation caused by your Cherry Bomb drink starting to tingle your insides. In a bold movement, you took your cocktail glass towards him. With your other hand, you touched his chin, and pushed it down a bit, forcing his mouth to part open. Your gaze transformed itself into a flirty one, and you told him to sip your drink so he could get a better grasp on what you tasted like.

It did not take long for you to crash your lips against his after that. You felt comfortable doing exactly what you were doing. You felt like you were in command of your own feelings. There was no stupid game of prey and hunter. There was no lie being told so one would get lucky.

At that moment, there were only two adults, being nice to each other and understanding their desires fully.

Unlike so many other men, he had respected you and, in the midst of slightly drunken kisses and touches, he kept on trying to be certain you were okay and you really wanted that.

Bill was briefly tipsy as well, his tongue tasting like the scotch he had earlier. The mixture between your cherry-like taste and his own made you feel like you were in heaven, although his kisses were growing to be hungry and more desperate.

Half an hour later, your hair spread across the pillow he was temporarily using for sleeping purposes. Your dress had been lifted up until your stomach, and your underwear was now nowhere to be found.

His soft hands roamed around your inner thighs as his tongue lapped your juices. Surprisingly, he was terrific at that, and you suspected you would crave more once he was done.

As he gave short licks to your clit and his tongue ran around your folds, two of his fingers were inserted in you. You arched your back, and reached out for his hair. You allowed your own fingers to tug delicately on his locks, his name leaving your lips religiously. He kept on pumping in and out of you, the pressure on your soft spot increasing each time.

The burning knot in your loins became tighter, and he adored how you clenched your walls around him so strongly. You were a mumbling, breathy mess, but he was entirely mesmerized by the sight, and the intimacy you were sharing.

Almost as if destiny was playing a prank on you, when you hit your first orgasm, fireworks started exploding outside the window of his hotel room. You squeezed your eyes shut, and cried out in the greatest pleasure you had ever felt in your entire life.

Slurping and sinful noises were produced as you came back from your high, still moaning. Your entire body trembled violently, but his big hands soothed your delicious torture.

He looked at you and chuckled quietly, your fluids still hanging on his lips, making them even more kissable than before. You were stunning in his eyes, and he feared not being able to let you go after the morning would come.

“Happy New Year, darling.”

January 1st came as softly and quietly as it possibly could. You dozed off in his arms after you spent a bit watching the fireworks show, and talking as well. The fact he was a grown man, but still could hold a decent conversation for so long, without any visible struggles was amusing.

You woke up to the next morning weak daylight peeking through the curtains and tickling your cheeks. Something inside your chest felt amazing. Flashes of the previous night appeared in your mind, and you could not hold a smile back. Funny enough, the taste of your Cherry Bomb drink still lingered faintly on your tongue.

However, all of your peace of mind vanished in the very instant you realized you had woken up by yourself. Waves of embarrassment and regret crashed in your heart, and you felt ridiculous for falling for all of the sweet nothings that had escaped his lips.

“Yes, that would be all. Yes. Room 716. Thank you very much.”

His enchanting voice shattered your own trance into a million pieces, and his bare footsteps announced he was returning to the same spot where you were at. You pulled the white sheets up and covered your naked torso, still unsure of how you would have to deal with the rising tension of the situation.

He soon captured the image of you being up and a glorious grin painted his lips. “Good morning.” His lower body was covered by a pair of dark jeans, which seemed to embrace his existence perfectly well, despite being different from the visual image he displayed last night. How was it possible for someone to look that good early in the morning? Or was it really early? What time was it? What did happen after the fireworks? With a timid voice, you wished him a good morning, too, but remained silent afterwards. It was difficult for you to ponder your next actions.

“So, the room service guys will be here shortly. I took the freedom to order us some breakfast.” His eyes gleamed with a pure kindness as the words slipped out of his lips. “I hope you fancy some orange juice in the morning.” He was offering you nothing but soft spoken words, and thoughtful actions

What was that?!

“B-Breakfast?” You repeated the key word of the whole conversation in surprise. No one had ever prepared, or even ordered, you breakfast after a night of sex and lust.

“Yeah.” Bill was quick to notice your tone of surprise and, somehow, it was funny to him. A girl like you, whom had shown him nothing but a great personality so far, should be used to being pampered like that. “Did you think for one second that I’d just eat you out like that, and leave you hanging the next morning?”

Honestly? Yes. You did think of that. You feared you would be tricked once more. One more disappointment to be added to your personal archive. One more reason to continue living your life despising men.

His arms were crossed against his chest and he shook his head, a dismissive, short laugh echoing through the room. “I would be mental if I ever did that. In a few hours, you managed to wow me.”

He made his way to the bed, and his body sank down on the mattress, being placed right next to yours. Truth being told, without the alcohol, you felt quite shy being that close to such a handsome man. “And, if you allow me to, I want to continue seeing you. I want to get to know more of you.”

A snuggly heat erupted in you, and it was a novel sensation for you. Perhaps, not all men had those devilish ways in them.

“I’m terribly sorry, but I really feel like kissing you right now. But, given your astonished behaviors, I’m not sure if you’d enjoy that. What do you tell me?”

Perhaps, this new year would not be so terrible.

[royalydamned]

SOAKED

|Mycroft Holmes x Reader|

|AN|: I haven't written one shot, let alone something x reader in like? two years? maybe? Reader is written as non-specified gender and is only referred to as "you" , so no pronouns for reader. My love for Mycroft suddenly hit me like a truck after years so I had to contribute.

Summary: Bit of rain, whole lot of feelings, and one love confession. Maybe storms aren't that bad, if they show you that you are worthy of love after all. In Mycroft's case for sure.

Mycroft sighed as he rubbed his tired eyes. The clock on the wall in front of him showed early afternoon, yet cold and darkness spread outside of his windows as the sun hid behind heavy clouds early in the morning. Peaceful but gloomy day. Still, the heavy pounding of rain against the glass of widows and road, as well as the rustle of the wet trees in the wind was oddly peaceful and comforting.  He had a hard day of work behind him, and another evening of more work ahead, just another weak attempt to distract himself from a foul mood he was put in because of the complications that came with the weather. 

Important plans, well, to him at least. He was supposed to get to see you.

A busy man he was, that wasn't even up for a question. His schedule tightly packed with meetings, paperwork and more than occasional fixing of his brother's mess, or just simply preventing it, it left a very little time for pleasant distractions such as a quiet time spend with delicious cup of tea and your sweet smile. Today was not the day for distraction it seemed, certainly not as big as your company, that left him flustered and distracted hours after you said your goodbyes. 

Your meetings were always a special occasion, even if they were short, brief and unfrequent because of how far you lived, Mycroft always cherished them for weeks following, replaying your lovely laugh and almost sparkling eyes in his head as he woke up and texted you a good morning message, or as he layed down to sleep and wished you sweet dreams. 

He might have...cared. For you, your happiness, your well being. Much more than he would ever admit, to others that is. Inside his own mind, he knew far too well how utterly enamored he was with you. 

The eldest Holmes wasn't the one to act, God forbid act upon his feelings. He could watch you, with crushing ache in his heart and deep longing as you always talked about your newest acquaintanceship, secretly wishing you held the same sentiments as he did. 

You never seemed to have a shortage of suitors at your heels, one better looking that the other, with charming smiles and magnetic personas. Likeable, social, just as you deserved. While he--, well, there was no need to ruin his day further with self-describtions. He knew very well how others percieved him and how he looked. Sherlock never failed to remind him if he occasionally forgot. 

Mycroft Holmes was aware, that he was nothing anyone would have ever wanted. 

The relationship the two of you had now was more than he could ask for, in all honesty. Time spent together, secrets shared in quiet moments and deep trust you held, it was enough. It was all he needed, if he still could watch over you. 

Outside a thunder struck, pulling him from the spiral of thoughts that he always seemed to fall into in the loneliest moments. With a deep sigh he stood up from behind his desk, eyes burning from how long he stared into the bright computer screen, and made his way downstairs into the liquor cabinet. He deserved a small break. 

His house was dark, almost like a nighttime had fallen outside, but he didn't bother turning on the lights, instead he carefully climbed down the stairs, gripping the wooden railing at the side for security. By the end of the staircase, he deeply regretted his foolish decision, but before he could make even one step towards the nearest lightswitch, a doorbell stopped him. 

Confused, he opened the door, only praying not to see his younger brother and his babysitter standing outside, as he had no intention nor the mood to put up with his obnoxious antics this afternoon, but instead his eyes landed on you. 

A soft surpised gasp escaped his mouth as he saw you on his doorstep, shivering with cold, your clothes completely soaked, excess droplets falling on your face and the tiles outside, and arms cluthing yourself for the tiniest bit of warmth. 

"|Y/N|?" He asked in quiet disbelief, almost as if he thought  he was imagining you. 

"We agreed to meet after too long, like hell a bit of rain would stop me," you replied with a victorious grin, lips almost purple from the cold and your whole body visibly trembling. 

"Foolish," he muttered pulling you gently inside from the atrocious weather. "You are completely soaked."

"You apparently have that effect on me," you smirked, the witty remark escaping your lips without control, and Mycroft was glad you couldn't see the embarrassed shade his cheeks caught. "No, but really, I walked most of the time. You know the tube is too far away from your place, and I didn't have enough money for a cab, I figured it isn't going to be that bad."

"It was." 

"It was," you agreed, rubbing your hands together in quick motions, trying to gain the feeling back into your fingers. 

"You should change or else you'll catch cold, come." You let him grab your hand, his skin pleasantly warm against your cold numbed one. He tried to think about anything else rather than the feeling of your connected hands, there were more important things now than such minor distractions. The image of you walking outside in the storm, just to see him. Just to be with him. It sent the most pleasant feeling into his stomach, the idea that maybe, he was almost as important to you as you were to him. But that was nothing but a wishful thinking, a desire of a naive man, and that is not who Mycroft was. There was no need for false hopes and embellished reality. 

He lead you into his bedroom, the idea of what it would normally mean coloring his cheeks, but he ignored those intrusive thoughts, focusing on helping you warm up in any way possible. "You have to change into dry clothes. Mine should be sufficient for now." 

"Alright." Came your voice from behind him, and he turned around to see your topless form. 

His breath hitched as he quickly dropped his gaze onto the floor, trying to keep the image he saw out of his mind, out of respect for you. No matter how badly he wished to remember it. Your skin glistening with water, body hiding under the clothes he strangely found himself craving, too primal and illogical for himself to admit. It was too hard keeping his head clear, with the sight from a few seconds ago burned into his brain, unable to ignore, unablet to forget, twisting his inside it certain ways he rarely felt before. 

"I will wait outside," he stated finally, pushing the neatly folded pile of clothing towards you without looking up in the slightest, and left the room. 

 When he shut the door after him, he finally felt like he could breathe easily again. Leaning against the doorframe, replaying the moment again and again, against his own better judgemnet, without the willpower to stop himself, and gulped heavily, trying to get rid of the strange sensation inside of him. 

It was like his feelings weren't enough. Like the fact that he, after all, wasn't too different to others, as he was so deeply affected by the helpless emotions of love and how deeply he was hurting with every moment without you. So depended on your presence bringing him joy. Now he steeped so low as physical attraction, pure desire of your touch and your body. He would mock himself if he could, you were just too much. 

A soft click of the doorknob caught his attention, and stayed almost staring, asking himself over and over again, why does he love the sight of you in his clothes so much. 

You hugged yourself tightly, still trembling significanty, but now at least rid of the wet clothes, and smiled up at him, with warmth only you could muster at such a moment. "This is much better, thank you. Sorry for such complications." 

"Nonsense," he huffed almost annoyed, like your health would ever be a complication. To him. Ridiculous. "Come, I think fire and a nice cup of tea will warm you up." Placing a hand on the small of your back, he led you back downstairs, where the big fireplace was. The close proximity the gesture put you in flustered you both, but Mycroft didn't want to let go. And neither did you. 

You turned to him, looking up into his face, smiling mischieviously when he caught your eyes. "Don't you have anything stronger?" 

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards, strongly liking your idea. "Your wish is my command."

Downstairs, he found the thickest blanket he had, tightly wrapping it around your shoulders, and you snuggled into its comfort immediately, watching him struggle to start a fire. 

"I suppose you aren't the one for camping," you mused with a small smile, giggling shortly at his grimace. 

"My, how could you possibly deduce that?" A tiny flame sparked inside, dacing across the thick logs of wood before disappearing under them, and growing rapidly. Mycroft stood up from the ground, dusting off the dirt and ashes from his hands and clothes, and looked rather proudly at his work. 

"I guess I was wrong. You are full of surprises, Mr. Holmes." A warm light from the fireplace illuminated your features, the growing flames sparkling in your eyes, and Mycroft stayed just to watch. He didn't believe in perfection, that concept was unachievable and he never believed in such terms, but as he watched you in this  moment, hair frizzy as they were drying from the water, the messy strands falling into your face, and just  then as he watched the orange light color your skin with small smile on your lips , he though you were the only one that came close. 

"Well," he inhaled sharply, pulling himself from the love-sick trance, and smiled back at you, the expression coming off more forced than it really was. "I shall go and fetch us something to drink." 

Later he came back with two short glasses and bottle of a still unopened liquor bottle, sealed with silver paper and a stamp of the highest quality, almost unnoticable smile playing on his lips as he made his way back to you, where you set cross-legged on the little carpet right in front of the fire. He copied your position, awkardly folding his legs, your knees almost touching, and placed the two glasses into the space between you. 

"I'm just," he started unsurely, pouring each of you a glass with impressive precision in the amount, and looked at you again, almost shyly. "I'm very glad we got to spend our evening together after all."

"I'm very glad as well Mycroft," you answered, a fond look in your eyes as you looked at the man in front of you and raised your glass in a silent gesture. He repeated the motion, nodding his head courtly your direction, and took a small sip, watching you in astonishment as you drank it all at once. "Getting warmer already," you laughed, watching the smile on his face widen at your comment and poured you another glass. 

You set together for what felt like hours, and maybe it was, in comfortable silence by the melody of the cracking fire beside you, the bottle almost fully drank and the personal space between you long gone. Your feet were tangled together in the middle, knees pressed against each other, both supporting your heads on your hands as you talked, with blissful smiles and faces almost too close. 

Mycroft adjusted his posture, resting his chin on his connected hands supported on his thighs as he watched you attentively, noticing and drinking in every detail of your face, your voice your tipsy mannerisms. He could never tear his gaze off you, you were captivating, like a mysterious painting hanging in the gallery, attracting everyone to look, to try to figure it out, and know everything about it. But he knew everything about you, and still he wanted to learn even more. Secrets you never told him, things he simply couldn't just see. Every morning he wanted to see your face, to give him the strenght to go through it, and ever evening he wanted to come back to it, because you felt like home. And Mycroft hated himself for being so melodramatic. This wasn't him, all these thoughts, all these emotions, they were stronger than his healthy judgement, which was already clouded by alcohol. 

 "Wasn't your partner worried, just going outside in such a storm?" You huffed out a breath, both amusement and annoyance mixing in that display of emotion, and Mycroft quite couldn't place, what it meant. 

"We broke up several days ago."

"I am very sorry to hear that," he said genuinely, even though inside he felt selfish joy that he won't have to hear about yet  another perfect match for you, another reminder of everything he wasn't. And could never be. Nothing you wanted nor needed. 

"Don't be, nobody I met yet was really for me," you mumbled, dropping your eyes into the empty glass in your hands, brows furrowed in deep thought.

"Why is that?" He took the last sip from his glass and carefully set it on the coffee table by his side, his full attention at you again. 

"When you meet so many people, good-looking, charming and kind people, but none of them fits you, none of them is right because you set impossible standard, almost unachievable by most people." You set aside your own glass, shifting even closer to him, hearing how he took in a sharp breath, hesitantly straightening his back. 

"That must happen when one deserves perfection," he answered looking longinly into your eyes, unable to look away. You were truly hypnotising, the only thing he could look at hours without  a break and never get tired. The only person he grew to love so deeply. Truly one of a kind. 

"Oh, not perfection, heavens no," you laghed, throwing your head back a little at that, and he still couldn't look away. Why was it so amusing, someone as perfect, as flawless, deserved nothing less than the same. "The thing being, that it's too far from perfection, and in a world where people desire nothing more than to eliminate their flaws, something perfectly imperfect is unachievable."

You leaned closer to him, licking your lips, already pink and sweet again, without realizing, and he almost lost his control. Swallowing heavily, he forced himself to look back into your eyes, trying to forget about the questions appearing in his mind. How would your lips possibly taste? How would it feel having you so close? Heating you up with his own body, blanket too long forgotten?

He couldn't think that way. He had to collect himself, but he didn't know how. Subconciously, he leaned in as well, the gap between your faces just inches apart, your breaths almost shared in one, and it felt like he was dreaming. If that was the truth, he never wanted to wake up.  

"They all lacked just one thing though," you whispered, placing your hand on his leg for support, making Mycroft to freeze completely, too disturbed by the contact and the overwhelming heat it sent through his body to think about anything else. 

"That being?" he forced himself to say, his throat tight and voice quiet, almost as if he had lost his breath. 

"They just weren't...you." A simple statement, a plain sentence bearing more meaning than most conversations he had been part of. His gaze abruptly shot back up, cathing he own almost instantly, but no words made their way out. He couldn't talk nor move, shock too obvious on his features, that even a child would know. 

His hands moved on his own, the other times brilliant brain, his biggest pride during his whole life now shut off by a few simple words, his body moving without a single though. Your cheek was warm already, burning hot under his skin as he gently caressed it, moving out a fallen strand from your face, tracing your cheekbone with his thumb like you were the most fragile thing in the world. 

"May I kiss you?" you breathed out, your eyes looking up at him, sparkling with emotion he thought he would never see in them, and he nodded, fulfilling himself the one wish that seemed too impossible for a realistic man to hold. 

Your lips met in the middle, slow and hesitant as you both silently prayed you wouldn't wake u in the middle of the nigh and find out it was yet another dream. 

He sighed deeply into the kiss as you moved to sit in his lap and deepened the kiss, pressing your lips against his more roughly, more needily, hands carefully placed on his neck and your whole body so deliciously pressed against his. So hot and soft, an opposite picture to your arrival, sinding the most pleasant shivers through his whole body with every slight movement in his arms. Mycroft's arms ended up wrapped around your waist, tightly cluthing your body to his like he was afraid you would leave. He couldn't let go. He never wanted to let go. 

After a short while, seconds, maybe minutes, he didn't know, the best moments of his life, you pulled away, only slightly to cath your breath, and rested your own forehead against his. He could smell the rain in your hair and your unique scent all around him, and he wanted to remember it all. Every single detail, to replay it, to dream it. To live it. 

"I love you," he said quietly, too long of a silence from his last words, and finally gather up the courage to open his eyes and look at you again. At your glowing eyes and wide smile, at your messy hair and body tangled in his blanket, in his own gaze, you were the perfect everyone seeked. 

"I love you too Mycroft."

And he never wanted to hear a sentence repeated so much as in that moment. Fortunately, you would never get tired of saying it. 

[gotnofucks]

To Sin in Love

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader x Sam Wilson

Summary: You’re forced to choose between the man who owns your heart and the one who owns your soul.

Words: 3.5k

Warning: Smut, language, mentions of hell and demons, 18+ ONLY

A/N: You can imagine Lucifer to look like however you please. I have no specific one in mind.  Special shoutout to my babe @donutloverxo​ for beta reading this hot mess and just being my rock.

Hell seemed to breath fresher when his face appeared before you. Swimming in the dark surface of the water from where you spied on him, a smile tugged at your lips. He was exiting the gym, t-shirt damp with sweat and you wished you could smell his musk. The way he walked with purpose towards his destination had you imagining how he’d walked towards you with a predatory look in his eyes.

For months you’d spied on this gorgeous man from miles under the surface and yet feeling so close to him. His grief had called out to you, drawn you into his aura of pain and regret. As a demon, you didn’t feel pity, but Sam Wilson had you feeling more than that. He had you falling in love.

So engrossed were you in looking at him, you didn’t notice your master enter until his warmth met your back. A large scaly hand came around you, holding you close. You leaned back into him, resting your head on his massive chest. Those who said the Devil didn’t have a heart lied, you could hear it beating under your ear, strong and assuring.

“I’ve seen you torture sinners without a frown, and yet here you’re melting for a mere mortal. I taught you better than that my sweet.” Lucifer whispered in your ear, pressing soft kisses along your neck. You moaned, titling your head to give him better access.

“Master” You breathily whispered, “you aren’t being fair.”

Lucifer chuckled, his hands wandering until they cupped your tits and squeezed, the very best of sin from the lord of sinners. You turned your face to look at him, admiring the beauty that had once been in heaven. Hell was worth every bit of pain if you only got to see him this close and feel his hands over your body.

“I am not being fair? I find you lusting after this mortal man while you very well know you belong to me. Why must you hurt me so, my sweet?”

Raising a hand to his face, you caressed it, savoring the tickle of his stubble against your palm. Your Lord was the most gorgeous being you’d ever seen, and yet your immortal heart cried out for Sam Wilson.

“Have you ever wanted to repent Master?” You asked softly, leaning in to kiss his lips. Lucifer groaned in your mouth, turning you around so you straddled him, his arms around you.

“I am the Devil, my sweet, Hell is my repentance. I watered the ground of my kingdom from the blood that seeped from my torn wings. Ascending to Heaven is no more my fantasy, especially not with you in my arms.”

Tears glittered in your eyes, a heat burning in your core that rivaled the very inferno you were born in. Pulling your master close, you kissed his eyes in reverence before whispering against his lips. “He makes me want to repent My Lord. I look at him and I taste absolution.”

Lucifer kissed you, his tongue slithering in your mouth and tangling with yours in a dance as ancient as him. His hands found your ass, squeezing you closer and grinding against the soft mound that lay between your legs.

“And what about me, my sweet? What do you want to do when you look at me?” He asked, his sharp fangs biting into your lips until you bled in his mouth. You shared the taste of your blood with him, finding peace in this place of sorrows where he ruled with a cruel smirk. Why would someone prefer Heaven over the freedom that Hell offered? Would anyone want to be high above if they knew how beautiful your master was, carrying a piece of that heaven into Hell itself with his presence?

“You make me want to kneel Master. I look at you and I want to worship you.” You said, love for him evident in your eyes. “You own my devotion My Lord, and he owns my heart.”

Fingers that were stained with your blood traced your cheek softly, his deep eyes that had seen eons pass by look at you with adoration. You were your master’s favorite, his most treasured demon. Nobody touched you but him, his possessiveness ripping apart every being that ever laid eyes on you. But he would never hurt Sam, he would never draw the blood of a man who owned so much of you.

“I fear you’ll forget me my sweet. If I let you free to go to him, would you ever come back?” Lucifer asked, holding your gaze steady with his. A tear forged a river down your face, his fingers quickly wiping it away.

“Master, you only need to ask, and I will stay. I was born for you, and if you shall please, I’ll die here at your feet.” You promised him. “But I cannot stop yearning for him. He is mine as I am yours.”

He looked at you for a long time before picking you up with him, carrying you over to your bed that had only ever had him as a companion. Lowering himself over your body, he striped you of your garb, touching your body with almost as much devotion as you did to him. He eased into you, the heat of your union steaming the air that rang with your soft whimpers.

“If he ever hurt you, I’ll torture him myself.” Lucifer vowed, capturing your lips that were stretched into a beaming smile. You allowed yourself to merge into one with your master once more, for you doubted you’d feel him like this again. The world was cruel like that, forcing you to chose between the one who owned your soul and the one who owned your heart.

“You wouldn’t have to master. You trained me well.” You said, arching your back as he hit the special spot inside you. “He will cherish me as you have done, I know it to be true.”

Lucifer nodded, visibly struggling with letting you go. His hips thrust wildly, lips murmuring in an ancient language of how you were his light in darkness before you both shattered together, falling into sinful bliss for the last time together. Covered in his spent and heat, you hid your tears in his neck. Even in hell, love was pure and never a sin.

Sam said that you’d been created specially to lead him into temptation and damn him. You would only smile and kiss him, never telling him how true his words were. Only, he would never be sent to your home. Sam Wilson did not belong in the fiery fires of Hell, no matter how deliciously they had burnt.

“You should be ashamed of yourself Mr. Wilson” You joked, cupping his face and leaning close to steal a kiss. “Leaving your training in the middle to fornicate with your girlfriend. Where is your sense of propriety?”

Sam laughed, pushing you onto your back on the couch, catching your giggles in his eager mouth. “You shouldn’t have sent me those pics darling. You know I am addicted to you.”

Your eyes twinkled in love for him, pulling him over you excitedly. Your relationship with him had been nothing short of a dream, his presence in your life completing you. When Lucifer had let you out on Earth, you’d wondered for one fearful moment if Sam would ever love you like you did to him. But it seemed his ageless soul had searched yours for just as long, for you clicked from the moment you met.

You’d been looking for him, navigating the crowded land of the mortals when Sam literally flew by you. His wings outstretched, Redwing hovering a few above, he chased after a man with vengeance in his eyes. Seeing him like that, you were convinced he had to be some sort of an angel for never had you felt so alive as you did then, breathing the same air as him.

As you saw him disappear, you ran after him, heart beating with excitement at finally meeting the man who’d owned you without even knowing you exist. Turning the corner, you saw him on the ground, grappling with the other man for a small pendrive. You had not planned to step in but seeing your man grunt in pain when he was punched, you launched into the battle with a cry, pouncing on the bastard who dare hurt your love.

“Die you dickface!” You screamed, pulling on his hair and delivering a kick into his side. He cried out, struggling in your hold. His mortal strength was laughably unmatched to yours and with a flick of your fingers, you twisted his wrist until you heard a crack. One conk to the head and he’d be down on his way to Hell where your Master would greet him, knowing how to deal with such asswipes.

“Hey! Hey, come off. I have orders not to kill!” Sam said, and then he touched you. He wrapped a hand around your arm and pulled you away, dragging you into himself and off the target he was chasing. The moment you felt his touch, tingles shot up and down your spine, liquid fire curling in your veins until you burnt only for him. The target lay forgotten on the ground, clutching his broken wrist as you and Sam gazed at each other.

His mouth parted slightly, fingers still digging into your flesh. You could see his eyes widen and then dilate, a similar heat simmering in them. He gulped, reluctantly releasing you from his hold but not moving away, trying not to blink as if afraid you’d disappear the moment he did.

“Have we met before?” He asked softly, tilting his head to the side. The brown in his eyes melted like chocolate, and you wanted to step closer to feel his touch again. You’d never met and yet you seemed to recognize each other. Something older than human memories had etched your face in his heart.

You shook your head, stray hair dancing beside your face as you did so. He blinked, shaking himself from his trance before lowering down to pick up the pendrive and calling in backup to arrest the target. His eyes kept drifting back to yours, confused and curious.

“Who are you?” He asked. You told him your name, shivering when it passed from his lips like a love chant. “You got strength in those arms. CIA?”

His voice was deep, and you wanted to know how it would sound right beside your ear, out of breath.

“I don’t work for the government. They don’t handle power well.” You said. Sam smiled at your words, looking around as three agents approached him, cuffing the target and patting his back.

“My name is Sam Wilson.” He said, offering you a hand that you eagerly shook. “Would you care for a cup of coffee? I may know a team of people who handle power just fine.”

“Hey, where’d you go?” Sam asked, his lips trailing down from your shoulder to your neckline. You come back to the present, catching the back of his neck and allowing him access to your breast, moaning when he sucked them from over your clothes. You’d been brought together by fate, of that you were sure, never parting ways since the day you met.

“Was thinking about you.” You replied, shimming out of your shirt and salivating at his naked torso. He was beautiful, his body glowing in the sunlight that peaked in like a voyeur through the blinds to witness your tryst.

“What about me?” He asked, smoothening his hands over you. Your skin heated under his touch, a desperate craving in your core to be filled by him overpowering your senses. You moaned his name and asked him to take you, quietly sobbing when you felt his tongue against your moist center.

“Sam, please. I feel empty.” You cried, hips raising as a finger eased into your channel and rubbed against your spongy walls. He smirked against you, sucking on your clit and tasting your juices that he said were like his own communion. No wonder he fell for a demon, uttering the filthiest things from those lips that made you quiver.

“Tell me, what were you thinking of.” He prompted, teasing you further. You writhed under him, holding his head with your thighs, and clutching the edge of the couch. He was grinning at your desire, loving as you made a mess for him. You cursed, eyes closing as you gave into his ministrations, coming apart into his mouth and crying out his name.

His slight beard that had taken him months to grow left a delicious burn on your skin, and soon his lips met yours, his breath carrying your scent. You lifted your hips eagerly to his, begging him with your eyes to take you, to own your body and make you his again. Greedily kissing you, he entered you with a practiced thrust, moaning at how snug you were. When Sam fucked you, he lost himself in your body to find his soul.

“Look at me.” You said, forcing his lust blown gaze to yours. He panted hard, grabbing your hips for support as he pushed into you, your bodies merging together like perfect puzzle pieces. You wondered again how this utterly beautiful man could be yours, how a damned soul like yours could belong to one as bright as his.

“What were you thinking of darling?” He asked again, biting your shoulder to leave a mark.

“About how much I love you.” You finally said, surprising him by flipping him over and taking the reins. You rode him out, taking him deeper and deeper until you were sure he was in your womb, feeling right at home. “I have loved you since before we met, believe it or not.”

Sam took your hand that rested on his chest and placed a sweet kiss on it, laying back as you lazily fucked him into a pile of gooey mess.

“I believe you baby” He said, pulling you into a soft kiss. “I feel like I’ve loved you my whole life.”

Tears gathered in your eyes, your hips moving faster as his words registered in your heart. Your love was complete and reciprocated, your life finding its meaning in him. Oh, how you loved him and his gap-toothed smile. His eyes that lit up when you danced together and played pranks on his friends.

“You are my heart Sam Wilson” You whispered in your ancient language, surrendering to him and the pleasure of your body.

Your dream suddenly turned hot, and it was then you realized you were back home. The room you had spent centuries in was still the same, your stuff kept together like a shrine to your memories. You wandered in, touching everything as nostalgia welled in your heart. Reaching your bed, you smoothed out the creases in the velvet sheets, smiling at the smell of your master there.

“Welcome home, my sweet.”

There he was, as regal and beautiful as ever. Looking at him, you knew he was meant to rule hell, for someone like him could never be happy serving at the feet of another.

“Master” You said breathlessly, wanting to crawl on your knees to him. But before you could, he flew to you and took you in his arms, his wings opening wide and curling around your body, enveloping you. A sob lodged in your throat, for you had never thought you’d ever feel him again. You met his eyes that seemed misty like yours and when he kissed your forehead, you let a tear escape.

“Oh, my sweet, how I’ve missed you. Hell seemed to have lost its fire without you. My hearth seems cold in your absence.” Lucifer said, nuzzling his nose in your neck. You held him close, running a hand through his hair that had grown longer.

He pulled away to kiss both your cheeks, his beautiful visage soothing the burn in your heart you didn’t know you have. Fate has been cruel, separating you from one man you love to be with the other. You raised your head up to receive his lips, but that kiss didn’t come.

“No, my sweet,” He sadly said, stroking your face gently, “You and I both you we can never share that intimacy again.”

Your heart broke at the rejection, a frown crumbing your face into one of despair that Lucifer was quick to kiss away.

“Oh no, that is not what I meant.” He assured. “I have loved you since you were born. If I am the soul of Hell, you are its heart. But now your heart belongs to someone else, does it not? Nobody knows better than the Devil that you must not abandon that which you seek. My need for freedom led me here, and you need for love led you to the man who could return it the way you deserve. Do not sully that by presenting yourself to me, not when I would love you just as much without the succor of your body.”

It was then you realized, standing in the palace of the damned with the Devil, that love came in various ways. Here was your master, who loved you deep enough to let you go, defying all nature that had made him a villain. He was greedy and jealous, the sinner whose pride led him to fall. But that fallen angel had raised you here, had loved you as purely as god did to his children. How harshly had the world judged this being, and how strongly have you loved him, that you didn’t want to leave.

“Master” You begged, clutching his collar and holding on tight. “Do not let me go. You still own me, as does he. Can I not belong to the both of you, equally?”

Lucifer smiled, a content look in his gaze. He sat down on the ground, taking you into his lap and rocking you like a babe. “My sweet, you will always belong to me. Love is infinite, and you can divide it between people and yet it wouldn’t lessen. But I summoned you back here to give you a boon, for I see far into your future.”

You stared at him in confusion, hugging him tight. He smelled like the dirt of graveyard after rain, death and rebirth combined into one. He took a section of your hair, running a hand through it until the few strands in there turned gray. Your heart beat faster, a new vulnerability coursing in your blood that had you feeling fear for the first time in your life.

“Master, what have you done?” You asked.

“That man you love lives a limited life my sweet. I promised you to not damn him into this place of tortures, and if I cannot bring him in as a demon, I must make you a mortal like him. Grow old together, find your happiness. When the time shall come for your body to retire, the fates shall merge you as one and see where to deliver you.”

A storm of emotions rushed through your heart, longing and pain and love and sin. You leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth, feeling his presence settle in your bones.

“And you master? Would I ever see you again?” You asked, voice cracking. Lucifer smiled, removing the black ring from his finger and pressing it in your palm. He rested his forehead on yours, lips curved in a small smile.

“I will stay down here and try to repent my sweet, so that one day I may join you too. If there ever was someone who could redeem the Devil, it is you.” He whispered.

You laid in his arms, cocooned in his presence until you woke up in your bed next morning cuddled up to Sam, clutching the ring Lucifer had given you.

Sam had always been pretty, but today he was just beautiful. His eyes sparkled like precious gems, a reassuring metal hand on his shoulder telling him to keep it together. He couldn’t believe it but when he held your hand, it felt real. A black ring sat on his hand, a matching one in yours.

“Could you both wait until the reception is over to eye fuck each other?” Bucky joked, but he kissed your cheek and hugged you, pushing you into your now husband.

“I have waited a lifetime to be his, I guess I will be okay with a few more hours.” You said to Bucky, but your eyes were trained on your man. He was yours, wearing your mark. You both were together in spirit and body, and your love seemed to have tripled in size.

“We have forever to go darling, don’t we?” Sam said, kissing you softly.

You nodded, entwining your hands and running a finger over his ring. You had a forever, and you would wait a forever more for the other part of your soul.

[malebodysuittf]

Thankful

I sniffed the air with a drool, smelling that delicious roast turkey that my dad was cooking up. It was a family recipe that we had used every Thanksgiving. Dad had never even tried to deviate from it since my mom passed when I was not even a year old. My dad told me it was hers, and cooking the turkey her way made it feel like she was back home for the Holidays. 

Thanksgiving has been a big family occasion ever since, though the “family” was just the two of us. My dad valued that family time more than anything. After what happened with mom, he was absolutely devastated for the longest time. But he worked hard to make his way up through the ranks, and told me every single day to be grateful for what I had so I could have a good future myself.

“Ritchie! The turkey is ready! Come eat dinner with your old man.”

I opened my drawer and pulled out a jar filled with a translucent, red liquid along with a syringe. “Coming, dad!” I pondered if this was really the right thing to do. With a sigh, I put the serum back. No, he had done a wonderful job of being a role model parent. I had bought this serum from the shady kid at school before we graduated, and he told me it could turn the victim into a suit by emptying them out. A wearable suit. My dad didn’t deserve that. He had worked hard and chose not to abandon me when he could have. 

I ran downstairs and saw the delicious Thanksgiving feast before me. Roast turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, a homemade pumpkin pie, and a beautiful salad. I immediately sat down and started eating as my dad watched with a grin. ”Oh come on, no thank you?  On Thanksgiving?” He said jokingly. 

“Thanks, dad. And...I want you to know I’m thankful for everything. I know I’m going off to college soon, so...I mean, you’ve worked so hard to....to provide everything for me and get me where I am, I wanna be thankful.” 

Dad smiled, almost looking like he was on the brink of tears. “Let’s just eat, alright?” He started to dig in with me as we had a delicious Thanksgiving feast together.

-----------------------------------------

A few hours after dinner, and I rested in my, eyeing the drawer with the bodysuit serum. Perhaps I could use it on someone else, someone who might deserve it. 

Knock knock

Startled by the unusual late night disturbance, I opened the door to see Dad standing there, shirtless. Looked like he was getting ready to go to bed.

“Hey, Ritchie, you mind if I come in?’ He gave me the most wholesome smile, a reminder of the close bond we had. 

“Yeah, sure, what’s up?”

He walked in and plopped himself onto my bed, hunched over with his legs spread out as he rubbed his hands together. 

“Hey buddy, you’re going to college soon, and...I know, I know, maybe it’s not a big deal for you or whatever. I mean, you took this gap year, and you’re probably tired of your old man by now.” His body tensed up as he chuckled before giving a long sigh. ‘I just wanna say I’m really proud of you, and I’m thankful for you. I know sometimes...I know you told me that sometimes you feel guilty, because I had to raise you as a single parent...but I don’t regret it at all.”

 My eyes teared up as I head his words. It was true, it felt awful. He never gave me up for adoption, he was never selfish, he had been the role model parent for me. Accepted me the way I was. Even with my homophobic grandparents, my father had told me he didn’t care, because I was his son. He had supported me every step of the way. He never went out looking for another woman, truly in love with my mother, and wanting to give me 100% of his attention. 

“Dad...I have to be honest. I don’t want to go to college. It just...it doesn’t seem right to me. But-”

“You’re an adult, Ritchie. You get to make your own decisions. If that’s how you feel, go that route. Don’t let your old man try to live your life for you. I worked hard so you could have the life you want, not for you to be unhappy. I’ll support you, no matter what choice you make.”

At a loss for words, I jumped out of bed and hugged Dad and felt his arms wrap around me.

“Dad, I really meant what I said earlier. I couldn’t have asked for a better father.” 

“I love you, son. No matter what, don’t ever forget that.” 

As I hugged him, the option tugged at my conscience. in his compassion and fatherly affection, the guilt ripped me apart. I wanted it more than ever. 

I got up from him and turned to the drawer. As he got up to leave the room, I said, “Wait, uh...I’ve um...got something for you.” 

“Yeah? What is it, champ?”

I opened the drawer and slipped the syringe through the top of the jar, watching the liquid seep into the it. 

“Just...uh...hold on a sec, alright?”

He gave a deep chuckle. “Yep, I’m waitin’.”

“I’m really sorry, Dad.”

I looked behind me and saw his concerned face. He was loving and supporting, and wanted to comfort me. “I already told you Ritchie, I’m proud of you. I don’t want you to feel gui-”

I swiftly turned around and jabbed Dad in the neck with the syringe, injecting him as he was startled. He pulled my hand away and pushed me back.

“Ritchie, w-what the hell was that?” His large, meaty hand patted his neck as he gave me a confused look. 

“A...a bodysuit serum. I’m really sorry, Dad.”

“What the hell is that? What did you do? Is this some kind of prank?”

“N-no...I don’t....I don’t know...” I felt great guilt as Dad suddenly started groan and cup his face in his hands.

“Oh...fuck...i-it burns! WHAT DID YOU DO?” He tried to leave the room, but I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him back in, covering his mouth as he yelped. He was, of course, much stronger and bigger than me, but even in this moment of peril, he wasn’t willing to hurt his son. He pushed me back slightly as he fell back and hit the wall, slumping as his head hung down, struggling to keep it up. 

“Fuck...Ritchie, please, call an ambulance! W-what are you doing?”

“It’s gonna turn you into a suit. I’m gonna wear your skin, Dad.” 

His face was a mixture of confusion and horror. “THIS ISN’T FUNNY, RITCHIE!” 

“I already told you, I’m really sorry Dad...but I’m gonna have your body. I’m gonna wear that skin of yours!” I menacingly approached him, still unsure if this was what I wanted to do. 

“W-What do you mean? Did you...drug me?” The pain appeared to be ramping up as Dad’s face contorted and he wiggled against the wall, yelping every now and then while he clutched his stomach. 

“I told you I didn’t want to go to college. I’m really sorry to say this...but I’m going to go straight to work, Dad. I want to wear your skin. I want to live your life, talk to your friends, do your job...please don’t make this harder than it has to be. It’s just because you’re the man I want to be.”

Dad started to cough as he looked slightly paler than before, wrestling out what words he could. “W-what are you going to do?” He clenched his jaws as he built up the courage the ask. “You’re creeping me out Ritchie! W-what do you mean wear my skin? You’re not a monster!” He stumbled over his words in terror, in denial of his fate.

“Nothing like that! I just know that I can’t wait to slide into you, slipping into your empty, lifeless skin, stretching every wrinkle of yours, and to talk to everyone...and not a single person will know. I really am sorry.”

Looking disturbed by his own son’s words, Dad tried again for the door. This time, I managed to grab him and put him in a chokehold.  I could feel him getting softer as he was turned into a suit, and he was a lot weaker because of it. He started to panic with shallow breaths as I watched his bare feet scrape against my bedroom carpet, desperately trying to get out of my grasp. I could feel him almost ready. 

I stood up with him still in a chokehold and moved to drag him over to the bathroom. I kicked open the door and turned on the light, I threw Dad forward as he hit the bathtub.

“I told you, I’m thankful for you, Dad. You’ve given me so much, and you’re about to give me everything.”

I grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed his head into the tub as the goo started to eject from his mouth. My very unfortunate father flailed and attempted to back up from the tub, gaining momentary freedom. “R-RITCHIE! STO-MMMMPH!!!” 

I quickly slammed his face back towards the tub when I noticed him desperately clenching his mouth to keep the goo inside, trying to retain what little was left of him. I reached my left arm over his face and the right under his chin. I used both of my hands to clip onto his lips; I knew Dad wouldn’t bite me, he was too good of a father. With my left arm and held his upper face steady as I pulled his mouth open with my right hand. He whimpered as he looked at me, as if one final plea to talk. Slowly, but surely, his mouth started to open with a cry as he weakened. Prying his mouth open, Dad shuddered and yelped as the goo plopped out of his mouth. Clearly unable to fight for any longer, I released the pressure and grabbed him by the hair with my left hand. I could feel his head almost...folding in on itself, as it emptied. I tugged his head back into the tub until Dad was mostly deflated and empty. His hands let go of the tub and fell to the ground in a folded pile, while his legs had completely folded at the knees, while his face drooped into the bathtub. I felt a severe guilt. Dad, the man who had given me everything, who had been supportive of me, who had been the best father he possibly could’ve been, was gone. All that was left was this bodysuit of him. 

I grabbed his hand, and noticed there was some goo left in him. I picked the arm of the suit up from the fingers and squeezed out the remaining goo as it fell right out from his mouth, until he was completely empty. Turning on the bathtub, the goo sunk into the drain.

I grabbed the bodysuit by the scalp and held it up, and his shorts and underwear slipped off. I could just barely hold the suit so Dad’s feet wouldn’t touch the ground; he was a man of incredible stature. Every crevice of his folded over itself, while the mouth and eye sockets dragged downwards, creating an O-face with bags. Even though I knew it was me who did it, the macabre visual of my own father’s lifeless skin could only seek to unsettle me. I intended to remedy that. 

Dropping the bodysuit to the floor, it fell as a haphazard pile of skin and hair with a slap. I took off my own clothes and tossed them onto the floor. I hooked my fingers onto Dad’s lips and started to stretch his mouth as wide as I could. I dipped my toes in, forcing one foot through Dad’s body, then the other, until both fit snugly into his feet. I wiggled my new toes, significantly thicker and with little tufts of hair on each one. I tugged harder at his mouth as I slipped Dad’s skin on, feeling his powerful legs overtake my own. I flexed my trunk thighs in awe, enjoying seeing his beautiful daddy legs move to my command. I had to stretch the suit to it’s limit to slip my hard cock into Dad’s fuckstick skin. Christ, the thing was massive. I shimmied into his ass, feeling it perk up. Dad was always such a humble guy, and of course, I hadn’t got to see him naked until now. He truly had an amazing body, it almost made me sad to imagine all that he missed out on in his loyalty to Mom. I gazed at myself in the mirror, satiated by the thought of my supportive and caring father, being turned into a sexual object by his son. The empty arms swung from my hip as I checked myself out, while the skin of his torso and head clumped around my waist. I continued to pull at Dad’s mouth, slipping my arms into each arm of the suit. His hands were strong and his fingers thing, veins running down the arm. A sign of masculinity and impressive musculature. Finally, I grabbed the upper lip from behind my head and, using my newfound strength, pulled the upper lip over my head as Dad’s face stretched to ludicrous proportions while I tried to stuff my own head into his, almost threatening to tear. 

I blinked a few times, and looked in the mirror. I was the spitting image of Dad, quite literally. Humble, supportive, friendly, caring Dad. Perhaps I need to start referring to myself by name. Alan. I was Alan, single father of Ritchie. I could only give myself a devious smirk in the mirror. As I started to jerk off this new fuckstick of mine. It was insanely sensitive, from nearly two decades of loyalty and family dedication. I rubbed it intensely as I recalled the events of the night. I did feel awful about what I had done, but there was such a dark appeal to it. I had decided on not turning  Dad into a skinsuit...but when he came in, and sat there on that bed, the impulse was too much. Recalling the nights events of pulling on Dad’s skin, and getting to see myself in control of his body...I ejaculated onto the mirror with a loud moan, rolling my neck as I felt the wave of pleasure overtake my body momentarily. The seed was thick, and I was able to roll it off the mirror and eat it up. I stretched a bit to fully situate myself in my new skin and picked up the underwear that I had been wearing, ready to slip it on and go to bed. A thought passed my mind as I stared in the mirror, ready to be just as good of a man that Alan had always been. 

Once again, Dad endured so many trials, to give me everything. Quite literally  this time. 

And I was finally, truly, thankful. 

[lubdubsworld]

Falling for you ( Falling from Grace) Jungkookx OC ( Complete)

Chapter 1

[ Read the rest here : Chapter 8 ( Final)  

]

Rated : 18 +

Warning : . Fuck buddies? Or rather enemies that have sex. They just really hate each other but also can’t keep their hands off each other. 

Sweat dotted the edge of my hairline and I felt like my entire body was on fire. I was wet, so fucking wet and the sound of him ramming into me, over and over again was absolutely obscene in the quiet of the bedroom. I was on my back, a thin black tie cutting off my vision and all I could feel was the steady staccato of his dick pounding into me. 

“Oh fuck.. Fuck...Just like that Jungkook fuck....” 

I could barely recognize my own voice. Wrecked and ruined, breathy and almost a whine. 

My shoulders ached from being stretched up, wrists almost numb from the handcuffs that held my body up to the head board. I felt like my shoulders were gonna pop out and I panted, fuming at him internally because he’d done it on purpose, locked the handcuffs a rung higher than usual which meant that I wasn’t lying comfortably on the bed as usual . 

“Look at you.... look so fucking filthy like this angel....” He smirked down at me, fingers like a vice around my waist holding me up and almost off the bed as he pounded into me, each thrust carrying the entire weight of his muscled body. It hurt so bad it felt good. My thighs ached from where they stayed wrapped around his slim waist. 

“Fuck...don’t stop...” I felt my head fall back, the ache in my back intensifying. I was so close....so fucking close, I could feel the heat as it built up, licking its way up my spine,  The angle was perfect, his cock had a slight curve to it when he was fully hard and that just meant that he managed to hit my sweet spot every time he pistoned in. 

And God we’d been at this for so long now... almost a whole damn hour and my senses were frayed, my body so sensitive and wrung out that all I wanted to do was cum. 

So, of course Jungkook being the supreme asshole that he was, chose that moment to stop moving completely. 

My heart jumped to my throat in panic, my body lifting off the bed, chasing friction and his hold on my waist tightened, so much that I was sure he had bruised me. 

“Hmm.... Don’t think you’re in any position to be telling me what to do, baby....” He drawled, voice husky in a way that made my ache worse.

“What- no..wait you fucking asshole ...” I screamed knowing what was coming and refusing to accept it. Fuck i hated him... Fuck Fuck....

He gripped my waist and slid forward again , but instead of sliding in he slotted his cock between my thighs, pulling my legs together so he could fuck into the gap and yes, it was really fucking hot but I was so close....I needed him inside me ......

“Please....Jungkook please don’t...” I begged, dignity forgotten because I was not a fan of delayed gratification. 

“Shush shush.....What’d I say about taking what I give you.....and to be fucking honest, I’m not sure you really like my dick all that much...” He said, sounding thoughtful and my head swam in confusing. What the fuck was he even on about?

“What? Are you kidding me? I let you fuck me almost every damn night why would you-”

“So why’d you go have dinner with Namjoon hyung?” He pinched my nipples', both at the same time, twisting and pulling till I whines, eyes watering enough to soak the silk of his tie. 

“What -- That’s... We’re not fucking dating....I can have dinner with who I want....” I snarled in disbelief, tugging fruitlessly on the handcuffs. Why the fuck had I agreed to this?? 

“Not after cancelling on me, you can’t... And certainly not with my brother, angel..” Jungkook snarled right back and I flinched when I felt his hand come down near my face. For one horrifying moment I thought he was going to slap me but what he did was rip the blindfold off me. Momentarily still blinded, I blinked till he came into focus and felt that familiar and unwelcome swooping sense of attraction. 

Jeon Jungkook with his long midnight hair and ivory skin. Doe eyes that carried entire galaxies in them and those soft, thin lips that smirked at the drop of a hat. 

 Fuck him... Fuck him for being so fucking attractive that my heart stopped every time I saw him. 

He was staring at me and the raging anger on his face really shouldn’t make me wetter but it did. I wanted to sob as my entire body clenched, aching empty and desperate to be filled again. 

“You sent me a fucking dick pic... “ I whined in despair. “ You were literally in the office when I was at dinner with him , how the fuck was I supposed to know you wanted to see me....!!!?” 

Jungkook reached down and began stroking himself and I felt my eyes widen in disbelief. 

“Jungkook....” I warned, feeling the desperation morph into genuine anger now.

“I wanted you to suck me off in my office. Isn’t that part of what my dad pays you for?” He drawled and I felt fury bloom. Jungkook knew just the right words to say, whether he wanted to turn me on or make me feel murderous....  

He scooted forward , straddling my chest and I bucked hard, trying to throw him off but it was fucking impossible. I flinched when he slipped a palm under my head, gripping my hair and yanking my head up till his cock pressed up against my lips.

“You owe me a blow job, princess.....gonna open up?” He gripped my hair harder and the pain made me keen. 

“If you stick your dick in my mouth I will bite it off....” I growled, resisting the urge to thrash because it only made my scalp hurt more. He laughed at that and I stared at him, the pink of his dick right on my lips and for a moment I almost had a pavlovian response to it. Almost opened my mouth and took the hard delicious length of it into my warm mouth. 

Shaking my head just enough to dislodge the head off my lips, I glared at him , my stomach clenching as he stared down at me, wicked dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction and pretty red lips parted in that sexy infuriating smirk of his. He gripped himself harder, groaning as his eyes rolled back a bit at the stimulation. I stared at how his long fingers wrapped around his length , the way he was so shameless in chasing his pleasure. His thumb traced the head, finger dipping lightly into his slit and he moaned, almost shuddering at the sensation. I wanted nothing more to touch myself, at least relieve some of the excruciating pressure between my legs but Jungkook had planned this, had put me in handcuffs fully intending to leave me high and dry . 

I stared at him and he glanced back, his face momentarily open in pleasure, lips spit slicked and parted and tongue poking out as he let out a breathy, ‘ fuck’ and i knew he was close. 

He always looked like a fallen angel when he was close to his orgasm. Fucking beautiful son of a bitch.

But no matter how gorgeous he was, Jeon Jungkook was an incorrigible jerk and I knew exactly what he was gonna do,.

I pursed my lips shut and turned my head away when he came , snarling when the hot wetness coated my face. Jungkook always came like a fucking hose and I could feel globs of it cling to my face, even my fucking eyelashes. 

When I turned back , snarling and ready to unload on him, he was already crawling away, but not before scooping up the last of his release on his fingers and reaching down to grip my cheeks with enough force to get my mouth open.

I whimpered when he stuck his finger in, the familiar taste of his cum only making my body thrum in desperation. I hated him. Hated him so fucking much. 

“Taste good, baby?” He drawled softly, chasing his fingers with his tongue and licking into my mouth, swirling his cum all over my tongue with his. 

“My filthy little slut...” He whispered against my lips, voice tinged with so much feigned fondness that I nearly bit his lip. 

“Take the handcuffs off, you fucker.” I growled, watching as he slipped on his boxer brief and his jeans. I fully intended to grab the vibrator on my desk and get myself off the minute he let me out of the handcuffs. 

And next time.... 

oh, boy next time Jungkook was going to be on his knees begging me to let him cum.... 

He was sweaty and looked like a mess but he never stayed around long enough to even take a shower. Now that I knew I wasn’t getting fucked my attraction for him was gone, replaced by homicidal fury. 

“Hmm.... I’ll think about it.” He shrugged, reaching for the white button down on the floor.

My eyes nearly bugged out.

“What the fuck do you mean you’ll think about it?” I snarled. 

“Your sister told me she’ll be dropping by at around five today..... I’ll leave the key on the dining tanle. She’ll help you out...” He grinned at me wide and I felt my heart drop through my throat. 

I spluttered as he dangled the key tauntingly , whistling as he moved to the door. 

“THAT’S A WHOLE TWO HOURS AWAY JEON JUNGKOOK YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do I even want to know?” My sister stared at me in honest disgust and I knew I must’ve looked a sight , with dried cum all over my face. But i was barely listening to her. I knew exactly what I had to do....Knew exactly what I could do to have Jeon Jungkook frothing at the mouth. 

“Areum? Are you listening..?” She called out when I raced to the bathroom. I quickly turned on the hot water , grabbing a washcloth to scrub at my face. Jungkook was going to regret this. 

When I finished taking a shower, scrubbing myself clean and stepped back out, my sister was airing out the room.

“Mom has been talking about setting you up with people and here you are , whoring around with that Jeon brat....” She rolled her eyes at me but I ignored her, moving to the closet with my lingerie.

My mother had high hopes for me. After blowing through my dad’s entire legacy with her fancy clothes and expensive bags, she was now panicking. She wanted me to marry big and granted, Jeon Jungkook came from a filthy rich family but he was still the prodigal son and his father made it plenty clear that unless he danced to the older man’s tune, he would be out without a penny to his name.  

But that was none of my business. I wasn’t going to marry the dude. I didn’t even  like  him. 

All i really cared about was getting him back for leaving me unsatisfied today. 

 I grabbed the most scandalous piece I had, black and completely sheer. It left absolutely nothing to the imagination and I felt saliva pooling at the back of my throat just thinking about how Jungkook would react to this. The first time I had worn it, he had held me up against the wall and fucked me senseless.  

“Why are you here anyway?” I asked my sister as she began picking up the different pieces of clothing scattered all over the room, dropping them in the laundry basket on her hip. 

“Can’t I just come check on my beautiful baby sister? “ She smiled and I rolled my eyes . 

Hana was the perfect daughter in every way. She was a professional artist, married to the gorgeously successful surgeon, Dr. Kim Seokjin who happened to own the largest hospital in the country. 

And it was hard to hate her because she had endless patience for my shenanigans'. Because to be honest, this wasn’t the first time she had walked in on me lying debauched, courtesy Jeon fucking Jungkook. 

Which brought me to my current mission. 

“Okay. I’m fine. I’m actually on my way out so you can either crash here for a while or you can leave...” i waved dismissively, running to the bathroom to slip the dress on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I rang the door bell again, feeling my body thrum with impatience. Why the fuck wasn’t he answering the damned door? I was wearing simple summer dress. The fastest thing I could take off. 

“Areum?” Namjoon’s surprised face barely registered on my face. He was in his sweatpants with a glass bowl filled with chips and he looked completely thrown by my presence. 

 I shouldered past him, moving to stand in the middle of the living room. 

“Is everything okay? What’s wro-”

I grabbed the hem of the dress pulling it over my head and tossing it away on the couch. 

Namjoon dropped the bowl and if it weren't for the ridiculously thick fur rug underneath us, the thing would have shattered to a million pieces. 

His eyes were wide in disbelief, mouth slack in shock as he stared at me and i could actually see his dick swelling in hi sweatpants as I stood in the completely see through babydoll. 

“Where’s the bedroom?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Fuck, yeah...that feels so fucking good...” Namjoon growled , gripping my waist as I rode him, his thick cock stretching me out so good that I moaned in relief. Stupid fucking Jeon Jungkook.... Namjoon wasn’t bad per se but he didn’t know the nuances of what I liked. Jungkook had this sinful way of rolling his hips up into mine when I rode him and it always made me see stars. But no matter....this wasn’t the main reason I was here. 

“Don’t cum... I want you to come on my face .” I whispered softly and Namjoon shuddered, grip on my waist tightening.

“Fuck..yeah,.yeah,.,.,okay,,.,anything you say.,...” He stuttered.

I reached down to rub my clit because I wanted to cum too and I sighed in sweet blessed relief as my orgasm washed over me, my walls clenching around Namjoon as I rode it out. 

“Fuck, I’m close...” Namjoon whispered and i clambered off him to kneel between his legs.

“Take a picture.” I grabbed my phone and turned on the camera , pressing it into his hands. 

“Wh- What?” His pacing faltered and I didn’t let him think too much , lest he change his mind...

“I want a picture of me choking on your cock , Joon oppa.... A picture with you painting my face with cum..please...please...” I blinked up at him through my wet lashes and I could almost see his mind disintegrating at the visual. 

“ Shit okay.... okay...”

I wrapped my lips around his cock, sucking quickly and taking him in deep, my mind swimming with glee as he clicked away. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming...” Namjoon began and I pulled away, opening my mouth, sticking my tongue out just as he came , making sure I stared straight into the camera as the first few spurts hit me, right across my tongue. I stuck a finger in my mouth, making a show of sucking it and Namjoon groaned, clicking away more pictures.

“Fuck...tell me I can get these pictures...” He moaned and I laughed, crawling up to kiss him. 

“Sure baby.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I called Jungkook first, simply to give him a chance to redeem himself. 

The thing with Namjoon was impulsive and  while i didn’t regret it per se , i didn’t want to drag Namjoon into this without just cause. 

“what the fuck do you want?” Jungkook’s annoyed voice made my hackles rise.

“A fucking apology for starters.” I snarled into the phone. The fucking audacity!!!

“Listen , I’m on the way to Sana’s place.... So I don’t have time for your toddler tantrums. I’m hanging up”

And he actually hung up. 

I stared at the phone, shaking in disbelief.

I quickly flipped through the photos I’d taken , trying to find the one that would make him furious enough to ditch his fuck for the night. Sana? Who the fuck was she anyway>?

I picked the one that was most obscene, you could see my sheer bodice, my nipples and the curve of my breasts, Namjoon’s cock resting against my tongue, spurts of his cum over my tongue and my cheek bones and the highlight- my eyes staring right at the camera in defiance. 

Perfect. 

Nothing riled Jungkook up more than defiance. 

I opened snapchat , sending him the pic. 

I stared at the caption in satisfaction. 

 Your brother tasted better. 

I relaxed against the pillows, glancing at the clock over the door. It was a little past eleven but knowing Jungkook.... he’d be here within the hour. He had a key to my apartment so I locked the bedroom instead. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kim Areum!!!!!!!!” Jungkook’s voice rang through the apartment rousing me from my nap. I blinked groggily and stared at the mirror.

11.25 PM.

I felt a smile creep into my face. A new record. 

The door into my bedroom shook on its hinges as he knocked on it. Hard. I moved to stand close to the door , reveling in the fact that Jungkook was on the other side, likely losing his everloving shit . 

“I’m too tired, Jungkook...your brother really put me through the wringer...” I whined piteously and the knocking stopped.

“Open the motherfucking door, Areum or I’m gonna fuck you so hard its gonna  put you in a fucking wheelchair .....” He growled. 

I smiled. 

“Good night Jungkook. Oh and you better leave soon...my sister is sleeping in the guest bedroom.” 

Ignoring his frustrated snarl , I turned the lights off.

Kim Areum- 1.

Jeon Jungkook -0 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Author’s note : I was just really inspired by that pic of pic of Jungkook in the see through shirt. Lemme know what you thought :-*