#The transformation. The blurring between the two. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deunmiu-dessie · 6 months

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ⅲ▬ ⁽ 𝒹𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃 ⁾²

part one

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₇˖₅ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, explicit content, teratophilia, demon/human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cunnilingus (both receiving), overstimulation. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: with your escape from your kidnapping, you find yourself now stranded in a world unfamiliar to you, how will you get home?

꒰m!demon ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

𝒴 ou find yourself lost in thought, pondering how long you've been sitting outside. Your trusty (albeit broken) silver watch stubbornly displays midnight, but time seems irrelevant in this alternate world where minutes stretch into eternity. The rhythmic patter of raindrops keeps you company on the balcony, drawing you in with its soothing melody. Despite the allure of a cozy bed mere steps away, you remain entranced by the stormy night. Rain has always been your sanctuary, a source of comfort in turbulent times. And much like the rain, you find beauty in the fog that accompanies it, shrouding the world in a veil of mystery and distorting the passage of time.

In this enchanting world, you find yourself drawn to its allure. The raindrops fall delicately, resembling glittering diamonds, while the thick and mesmerizing fog gracefully enveloped everything in sight. Despite its seemingly monotonous nature, the sound of rain became a melody that resonated with your soul, especially during the serene nights when your neighborhood fell into a peaceful slumber. However, you were no longer in the comfort of your own home. Instead, there was a certain allure in venturing outside in this strange world during your unconventional waking hours, embracing the rain as it transformed the radiant light of the two moons into a muted glow amidst the stormy clouds. The lantern lights shimmered briefly, casting a magical glow before fading away. This was the embodiment of tranquility.

Your eyes trail to where the last lantern light on the garden flickers out, and your body turns rigid as something, tall, lanky, and dark comes slinking your way, well not necessarily your way, but down the path in your direction. The rain intensifies, drumming against the balcony railing and soaking your legs and feet. Perhaps your mind is playing tricks on you? You were stressed and scared. A crashing sound of thunder startles you, a trail of goosebumps crawling up your arms. The sensation of them developing sends a quiver down your spine, one that leaves your bones rattling and achy.

As the rain continues to pour down heavily, the path ahead becomes a blur, even with the faint light of the moons flickering through the clouds. You can almost feel the wetness of the soil beneath your feet, the sensation of it squishing between your toes. The raindrops relentlessly peck at your face, while the gentle rustling of the trees creates a comforting hum. It's as if Mother Nature herself is embracing you. Suddenly, a sharp pang of unease shoots through your chest, causing your eyes to flutter open.

You raise your head from its tilted position and peer down the path below the balcony. It's not a long stretch, the length of a car and then some. Your breath catches in your throat as you spot something peculiar. The figure that had been walking along the trail earlier, which you had dismissed as a figment of your fear, now stands at the end of your balcony. It is drenched and covered in a mysterious black substance. Although still tall, it no longer possesses its unnaturally thin appearance.

A terrifying grin stretches across its mouth, revealing a multitude of razor-sharp teeth, causing an uncontrollable scream to burst from your lips. In a frantic scramble, you seek refuge within the confines of your room, desperately hoping to evade the horrifying sight. The name you scream had meant to scream was Elmira, but out came, "U-Ulysses!" Your body turns into a puddle of goo, hot, sappy goo when a large hand settles over your eyes to obscure your vision. "Well aren't you a troublemaker?" he remarks, his eyebrows minutely creasing at the warmth emanating from your forehead and skin. As your hand rests upon his, he takes note of the clamminess of your palm.

"Do you like the rain?"

Amidst the relentless downpour, his voice cuts through the noise, smooth and velvety. It's reminiscent of savoring a fine whiskey, leaving a warm trail down your throat. You can't help but wonder if he tastes just as divine or otherwordly, and that thought alone makes your eyebrows furrow softly. You can feel his eyes on you, curious and searching. Knowing. Your words come out almost incoherent, but he doesn't seem to mind. His hearing is ten times sharper than yours, after all. Your voice, like a serene lake, barely makes a ripple. As your lips part, his eyes follow every movement with unwavering attention.

“I do.”

The rain has been falling relentlessly for hours, the constant pitter-patter on the ground and roof soothing you into a cozy and passionate state. Your affection for the rain is unwavering, it's a love that will never fade. Observing it brings back memories of your dreams, those beautiful dreams where you're standing in a vast field, letting the rain drench your clothes and moisten your skin. It's just you and the raindrops. The rain brings you solace. That's why you have no qualms about watching it endlessly.

“Do you like the rain?”

Your question catches him off guard, yet he craves the feeling of vulnerability you display by trusting and relying on him, despite your previous lack of trust.

“No.”

As your sight remains obscured, you're swiftly hoisted off the ground, the creature beneath you fading from your mind and your heart gradually returning to its normal rhythm. You hesitate to inquire further, realizing you're essentially a prisoner in this situation, with him as your captor.

“Why.”

As you both walk in silence, there is a sense of comfort that envelops you. It's a silence that doesn't make you feel awkward or embarrassed about the lack of response from him. Suddenly, a thought crosses your mind - where exactly are you heading? Although the bed assigned to you wasn't too distant, it feels like you've been strolling together for quite some time.

"Where are you taking me?"

As soon as your question leaves your lips, the unmistakable sound of a door slamming shut echoes through the room. Suddenly, you find yourself being gently placed onto a much larger bed than the one you were initially provided. "You'll be staying in my quarters until I can resolve the issue with the infestation,"

As your vision returns, you sit upright on the bed and fix your gaze upon him, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Are you talking about mice? Or rats?" A blush spreads across your cheeks when he glances at you sideways, emitting a small chuckle devoid of humor. "Sure," he replies.

Sliding off the bed, you cross your arms protectively over your chest. "I won't be staying in a room with you. Find me another one." His eyebrow quirks and his eyes narrow, causing you to take a step back instinctively. "I have no intention of laying a finger on your body, especially considering you're human," he retorts. Offended, your mouth hangs open in disbelief and you take a step towards him.

"I wouldn't let you touch me, even if you begged!" Your words are sharp as he approaches. "Calm yourself, ao bewl ¹, I'll be in the next room over." ( my love )¹ A sudden wave of heat washes over you, causing your vision to blur and your breath to quicken. Ulysses remains unfazed as he steps closer, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him, his other hand lifting to touch your chin and check your forehead. "Silly woman, how long have you been out in the rain?"

Ulysses notices your lack of response and tenderly lifts you up from your slouched position against him, carefully placing you back in bed. "The rain in Lomaliue is unlike anything you've experienced in the Upper Realm," he whispers under his breath, his cool hands gently brushing against your forehead and then your neck. You peer at him through blurry eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. "Is this the end for me? Am I dying? I'm dying, right? " Fear grips you as tears stream down your face, and the room starts to spin around you.

The Demon can't contain his amusement and lets out a deep, rich chuckle. "Come now, little human, no need for theatrics. You're not dying. It's simply the unfamiliar weather and atmosphere of the Under Realm that's causing you discomfort. You'll be alright." Sweat clings to your body like a second skin, drenching your hair and clothing, leaving little to the imagination. A wave of intense pain surges through your abdomen, causing you to wince and squeeze your eyes shut. "It hurts, it hurts."

Ulysses sighs and softly caresses your complexion from top to bottom, hovering just slightly over your face. Your eyes slide shut and sleep takes over. He doesn't even startle or rise when Elmira enters the room, eyes worried. "She'll be fine, bring my papers from the office here, cancel the board meeting, and rearrange it a sennight from now." Elmira nods obediently and laces her hands behind her back. "Of course Master." Before she can turn to leave, he he adds, "The Guard, have them hunt down the Helkuma that made its way in. I'll be conducting a border check to identify any lapses in security."

"Yes Master." Elmira leaves the room and shuts the door behind her softly, leaving the two. Ulysses rises from the bed, intending to make his way to the plush velvet couch, but his progress is halted by a gentle tug on his loose tunic. Your small, tender hand clings to him with an intensity that suggests a desperate need for his presence, while the worry lines between your eyebrows deepen. "It seems I've been mated to a clingy human."

For the next coming days, Ulysses spends his time doting on you as you're in and out of sleep, while also doing a lot of the work that had piled up in his absence. Surprisingly, in your drowsy state, you show no fear towards him; in fact, you become quite affectionate and touchy. On the seventh day, your fever finally breaks, and your pretty eyes no longer hold that bleary look of exhaustion and pain; it soothes Ulysses more than he cares to admit. Elmira hands him another stack of reports, her smile tinged with guilt as she notices his exasperated glare. "Just a few more to go, and we'll be done, except for the east wing reconstruction," she says, but stops when he raises one of his hands (from his third arm, the others are busy with paperwork) "Don't remind me."

Ba-Bump. Ba-Bump

The feline demon's ears twitch as your heart rate quickens. "Master, My Lady has awakened," he hums in acknowledgment, placing the two out of the three pens down and rising from the desk he had relocated to the room. "Ask the Chef to prepare a light meal and gather medicine and a sweet treat." Carrying a few crucial documents, he settles onto the plush velvet couch, flipping through them. Elmira nods in understanding and swiftly exits the room, gently closing the door behind her.

"I am aware that you are awake, my dear 'captive'."

He finds your bewildered grunt incredibly amusing, much more than he had anticipated. With a slight chuckle, he resumes his task of signing, paying no attention as you ungracefully slide out of bed and stumble toward the couch farthest from his position. Wrapped in the sheets, you look absolutely adorable, with it trailing behind you as you settle into the comfortable couch. "What time is it? What day?"

"It's been a sennight since you've come down with fever, that makes it Woedenes dæg, and it's noon." He steals a quick glance at his watch, indicating that he's running out of time and you have a feeling that he's about to go. "Which also means I have my meeting soon." And your intuition was spot on.

Ulysses stands up and carelessly tosses the pages onto the table. "Elmira will bring you something to eat. Take a brief stroll in the gardens and enjoy the fresh air. Just remember, not more than 10 minutes. Your body needs time to adjust to this environment."

You give a slight nod, feeling a bit disoriented and not up for a debate, the situation still feeling surreal. A sudden feeling of bashfulness overtakes you, making your cheeks burn. "Have you been here the entire time?" "Yes, the employees here are not accustomed to dealing with humans. You're also mine. My responsibility and I allowed you to become ill, and for that, I am sorry."

Your heart skips a beat and your stomach does a flip, but it comes crashing down when he finishes. "I also didn't want to put them through the pain of your snoring and clinginess." Ulysses finds amusement in the glare you send his way, observing as you settle back into the couch, appearing at ease in his presence. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else? Hurry and get out." His eyes soften and a smile quirks his lips, "I'll come to visit you after." You huff and wave him off with a middle finger. "Don't bother!" Your voice trails off weakly as he walks out, shutting the door with a solid thud.

Just as you are lost in your own thoughts, Elmira enters the room carrying a tray of steaming soup. Her face lights up with a warm smile, and her steps exude a contagious energy. "My Lady, I'm overjoyed to see you recovering. Your illness had the entire castle in a frenzy, and the servants have been sending their good wishes." It's puzzling, isn't it? You were just an ordinary person who stumbled upon this grand castle one day. Your interactions were minimal, and you couldn't even recall the names of those you encountered. So why all the fuss?

Elmira seems to read your mind and responds with a gentle smile. "In the sennights you've been here, your presence has brightened this place. The Gardeners feel like they have a purpose, the Chef gets to cook more often and the other maids love to dote on you." The Garden. The mere thought of dining in the garden brings a smile to your face as you sit up from your previously huddled position. "Elmira, I would like to eat in the garden."

The walk to the Gardens (a place you had never been to) was quick and pleasant, with the suns shining brightly at noon. The knights on patrol greeted you warmly and in a slightly cute and chaotic manner. Stepping outside, you slipped off your new flats, lifted your dress, and ran into the grassy plains with a soft smile and squinted eyes, the sun's rays shining in your eyes and warming your skin. A gentle sigh of contentment escaped your lips as you wiggled your bare feet in the grass of the garden. With a slight breeze in the air, Elmira draped a shawl over your shoulders before heading back to the table to prepare your breakfast.

"Elmira, why is it that I've never been here before?" you inquire, your voice gentle as you lower yourself, your gown spreading over the earth and your hand encircling your knees. The scent of the air is pure and invigorating, a stark contrast to the environment you're used to at home. Your fingers trace the outline of a dandelion-like flower, smoothing over its bright yellow stem before picking it. Raising it to your face, you inspect the pink fluff that surrounds it. The clinking of dishes is the only sound until she interrupts.

"This is the Master's private garden, in order to come here you would need approval. While you were recovering, I told him that you enjoyed being outside and in Nature, and he gave you access to this Garden." Elmira answers, occupied with the dolly that holds the tea and soup that had been prepared prior. As you listen to her words, a soft smile graces your lips, and your heart flutters with excitement. You take in a deep breath and let out a puff, air releasing from your lungs and onto the flower. The pappus soars through the wind, taking flight and drifting further and further away from you. The garden mesmerizes you with its meticulous upkeep, vibrant hues, and the intoxicating fragrance of the dew-kissed plants. Every plant thrives, leaving you thoroughly delighted.

You now longed for a book to read, so you could lose yourself within the garden and experience something you had yet to want until now. But, after realizing that perhaps all the books were in the language of this new world, you would have to ask Elmira or Ulysses to get you something. Ah, you said it so easily, as if staying here was a forever thing, but perhaps it was. Ulysses had hit the nail on the head about your old life - no caring family, a job ready to let you go, and no one waiting for you back home. You weren't living, just surviving miserably. With a soft groan, you rose from your crouched position, hands moving up from your knees as you straightened. Your eyes roamed and landed on a beautiful glass table that Elmira was setting the dishes onto. It was clear, almost see-through. White placeholders were facing the chairs that came with the table. "It's so beautiful here." Your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers glide along the smooth glass surface, the set looking as if water had stilled. It could've been mistaken for ice if the warmth from the present sun didn't beam onto everything in its path. You hesitate, stealing glances at the elegant table, unsure if you should dare to sit. The opulence of the furniture makes you question if you might tarnish it. "Elmira, is it alright for me to sit here? It looks expensive." The cat demon nods absentmindedly, focused on arranging the items. "Certainly, the furniture is meticulously cleaned every day." "Oh," you respond, your brows furrowing. Your gaze swiftly shifts to your hand, a delighted smile spreading across your face as you notice something unexpected. "What is this?" you whisper softly, bringing your hand closer to examine it.

Perched on the back of your hand is a mesmerizing bug, its vibrant blue hue adorned with delicate white spots. At first glance, you might mistake it for a ladybug, if not for its peculiar shading and the menacing stinger at the end of its abdomen. Elmira's expression changes as you inquire about the bug, her face turning pale. With a sense of urgency, she urges you. "My Lady, quickly blow it off your hand!" You look up and away from the bug and glance toward her, panicking slightly at her tone. "What? Why? What's wrong–." Before you can comprehend her warning, a scorching sensation surges through your veins, engulfing your body in unbearable pain. As you glance back at your hand, you discover that the bug's stinger is now embedded in your skin, while the insect itself has vanished amidst your frantic state.

In an instant, you're sprawled on the ground, and Elmira rushes over, tenderly cupping your face in her palms. It's hard not to ponder why a mundane day is an elusive dream in this peculiar world, where nothing ever seems to be ordinary.

"—The Hundyai Region has become overrun with–."

The atmosphere in the meeting room instantly turns heavy as a sudden knock reverberates through the door. All eyes turn towards the interruption, their curiosity piqued. It is a rare occurrence to interrupt a meeting with the fearsome Demon Lord Ulysses, it had never been done before, or well, successfully done. Before he can even speak, Elmira enters the room with a sense of urgency, her steps quick and purposeful. Bending down to whisper into his ear, she imparts crucial information to their Lord, causing a ripple of tension to spread across the room. The council members watch intently as Ulysses' eyes narrow and his jaw tightens in response. With a stiff nod, he acknowledges Elmira's message, prompting her to exit the room gracefully. Bidding a respectful farewell to the men at the table, she disappears as silently as she had arrived.

Standing up from his spot at the head of the table, Ulysses straightens his cuff links. "Let's postpone the meeting for now. Feel free to wait in the lounge with some refreshments." There are no protests, no irritation, just unwavering loyalty. "Understood, my Lord." She can't seem to stay out of trouble.

"How long ago was it?"

Elmira anxiously clasps her hands together as she hurries alongside Ulysses, makes his way to his bed in a few long strides."It couldn't have been more than five minutes. I rushed to your side as soon as I could. Ghallahan brought her back here," she explains. Ulysses tenderly cups your chin in his large hand, observing as your eyes glaze over and your lips part to take a deep breath upon his touch. Your skin feels warm and moist with a thin layer of perspiration, causing him to curse himself for his lack of attentiveness. "Bring me something to alleviate the pain and swelling within 10 minutes. Clear out the staff near my room and instead attend to our guests. If I need anything, I'll call for you." Elmira, though reluctant, nods and shuffles out of the room. "What's happening to me?" Ulysses, captivated by the alluring and breathy tone of your voice, shifts his attention back to you. He nonchalantly rolls up his sleeves and unbuttons his shirt ever so slightly. "While in the Garden you were stung by a Fern. Their venom can intensify one's libido to a dangerous extent if not treated correctly. It can also lead to swelling in the limbs and even the brain, depending on the specific type of Fern."

In the midst of your poisoned state, your eyes widen with a mixture of fear and disbelief. Your thighs involuntarily clench together as your heart beats erratically in your chest. The overwhelming realization that death may be imminent engulfs you, and you find yourself uttering desperate words, "Oh God, I'm going to die, I don't want to die." However, amidst the chaos, a strange sensation begins to stir within you. Your nipples harden beneath the fabric of your dress, the sensation bordering on painful. Ulysses gently brushes his hand against your, puffy lips sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His touch trails down the side of your neck, leaving a trail of anticipation in its wake. "For it to stop, I need to pleasure you." Your body tenses at the information and your cheeks flush. "I'll just do it myself. Why can't I do it myself?"

"It doesn't work that way, little dove."

The thought of him touching you so intimately sends tingles of white-hot pleasure down your tummy. Another wave of heat hits and beneath your dress your wet, sticky thighs rub together, desperate for a touch of any kind. You can feel your clit swell and ache as your blood rushes to it. Your panties are damp with your arousal. As you lock eyes with him, his passive yet sharp features, and his deep, alluring red eyes, you sense a hunger that sets him apart from the rest. The sinewy muscles of his arms ripple, captivating your attention, and you boldly cup your breast within your small hands, embracing your own provocative nature. It becomes clear that the mere thought of his touch has the power to bring you to the brink of climax.

You can't help but feel a little shy, but there's no denying the effect he has on you. The way his voice rumbles sends shivers down your spine. His deep, sultry tone stirs something deep inside you. "Dove, talk to me." His voice is almost pleading, and you comply with a quick nod, gasping as his lips press against yours, dominating and all-consuming. His tongue dances over your lower lip, relishing the addictive taste of your mouth. His teeth sink in, causing a pleasurable moan to escape into his mouth, your fingers desperately clinging to him; as his fingers trail calmly down your waistline and tickle your belly button. Slowly, they make their way back up to the neckline of your dress, effortlessly tearing it off, and exposing your breasts to the cold air, causing goosebumps to rise. Though his warm mouth chases them away.

Your thighs tighten around his waist, feeling the hot, pulsating bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach. The most sultry, erotic moan he's ever heard pierces his ears and the deep, primal groan that he lets out makes you whimper. He lifts his head to gaze into your eyes, seeing the raw desire and intense need reflected at him.

His fingers delve into your hips, reassuring and light as he pulls you closer to him, his mouth continuing a slow, tantalizing assault on your nipples. Each time his teeth nip you, you mewl wantonly and arch into him, hips grinding against him. Tears trickle down your cheeks at the discomfort between your thighs, a fire that slowly starts to eat you alive.

Ulysses' hand caresses your breast, thumb teasing your wet nipple. And you let out the most sinful, obscene moan he's ever heard; and you attempt to stifle it with your hand. " It's only me and you here, dove " He states, kissing down the valley of your breast, eyes flitting upwards to gaze at your tortured face. His breath leaves his lungs in a shocked rush, and a surge of emotions engulfs him when his eyes find yours, they're wet with tears and you down at him through thick lashes, eyes so trusting and yet so scared.

"In this life and the next, you possess the power to consume me entirely." His voice, a mere whisper, and his hands cupping the soft weight of your breast. He bends his head, his teeth scraping over your left nipple. His other arms work on taking off the top half of his clothing, carelessly ripping them away. You sob out, the sound unlike anything he's heard, it makes his cock strain against his pants. Once again, he claims your breast, his mouth unyielding. Suckling vigorously, his tongue dancing across your nipple, while his fingers tease and caress the other. Your cries echo, as you entangle your fingers in his tousled locks.

As he lifts his head from devouring you, his gaze fixates on the vibrant hues that adorn your bosom, and you gasp at the color of his eyes. He knows you see the dark red of his eyes, a lust-filled predator, and yet you don't seem to care one bit. Instead, you yearn for him, your arms entwining around his neck to meet him in a kiss. Ulysses revels in the sensation of your body melding seamlessly with his, surrendering to his dominance as he ravishes your mouth with a fervent hunger, relishing the taste of your fervor. Your mouth, an addictive nectar, surpasses any pleasure he has ever savored in his two millennia of existence.

As your perky nipples graze against the chiseled contours of his muscular chest, a shiver of pleasure courses through your body, leaving you breathless and emitting a delicate whimper. He hungrily devours your sounds, his lips relentlessly claiming yours, until your once tender lips become swollen, evidence of his insatiable desire.

“More," You plead softly. "I need more." You can't help but squirm against him, hips bucking. Hungry. Needy. Demanding. The poison inside you ignites a fiery hunger, and only he can quench it. All you desire is him. His touch, his kiss, rough and demanding. You yearn for the numbness that envelops you when he tilts your head back, dominating your mouth repeatedly. Your cries are filled with urgency, and you don't care if you have to beg him to get what you want. What you needed.

"I can feel the heat of your cunt through my pants, dove," He whispers softly, and to you? He murmurs gently to you. He exudes pure, sinful allure. Temptation. Forbidden and devilish. The brush of his teeth on your neck causes your eyes to close and your lips to part. "I bet your panties are drenched, aren't they?" The question has another wave of slick dripping from your pussy.

He doesn't bother waiting for your response; instead, he plants a series of kisses from your lips to your neck, and then down to your breasts. Every gentle bite or caress sends a surge of heat directly to your pussy. The heat is intense, scorching, pulsating between your thighs, and you can't help but squirm. Your pussy twitches, clenches, and weeps with hunger.

"I want to see for myself," He states, nipping under your breast and then down along your ribs. "I need the taste of you on my tongue, my mate." His sensual words make you flush red, but sends your stomach clenching in anticipation, it goes straight to your core. You weren't certain you could survive. Certainly if he didn't speed up his teasing you wouldn't, you truly didn't want your brain to swell and explode.

His stalling mouth doesn't stay very long but continues to journey down your belly, his tongue dipping into your navel. Gracefully, he slides off the bed and kneels in front of you, urging you to the edge and pushing your thighs apart. "Rest your feet on my shoulders," he commands, his voice thick and velvety. Filled with dark promise. A shiver runs down your spine at the sound and another pulse of hunger shudders through you. There's no thought in your mind that think to defy the edge in his tone. Without hesitation, you comply, soft feet settling over his broad shoulders.

You would do anything for him at this moment. You had never in your 20+ years of living ever felt so desperate or needy. The feeling was so strange but, so intense, your body shook with it. Your heart raced, blood pounding in your ears and flushing your cheeks. Ulysses' face bore a dark, erotic lewdness. Intense. Savage even. Feral and untamed, it stirred something deep within you, something you didn't even realize was there. You hungered for him so much that you could feel the warm wetness of your arousal smearing your thighs and gathering between your folds in anticipation.

A soft whimper escaped your lips as you gripped his locs of hair, your breathing ragged. You were completely bare to him and you should have been embarrassed to have a demon you just met buried between your thighs, but instead, you were all the more desperate for him to do something—anything.

"So wet. So sweet." His gaze fixates on the luscious, soft curls on your mound, damp with heat, his eyes hooded and hungry. With a low, primal growl, he exhales a cool breath directly onto your feverish folds, and you sob, oversensitive and gripping his horns to steady yourself. "You belong to me," he declares. You don't even have time to process his words because he lowers his head to the feast between your shaking thighs. Your cry is hoarse. Broken. Mewling. He doesn't just give a tentative lick. Ulysses takes what he wants like a starved beast. He consumes your mind, body, and soul with a ravenous appetite.

He consumes you. His tongue delving deep to extract the musky, sweet taste of you. He nibbles, sucks. He dominates you with just his mouth and nothing more. Powerless to do anything but hold on, you grasp his horns, his firm hold on your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide for his plundering mouth. It was beautiful. So good. Better than anything you could have imagined. Your mind refuses to function, focusing on the sheer pleasure escalating like a tsunami. The sensations are indecent, and arousing, the intensity escalating the insatiable desire within her higher and higher.

He releases a fierce hunger within you, his tongue flicking, diving deep repeatedly, caressing and teasing. His deep snarls only added to the sensations battering through you. The flames roar back with a vengeance, tantalizing your nerves and scorching through your veins, a blaze of passion across your stomach and down your legs, along your spine, and deep inside your sopping pussy. You were so close, the tension coiling so tightly you cry out with need as his mouth envelops your hypersensitive bundle of nerves, he licks just enough to overwhelm you with sensations, but not enough to release you. "Ulysses," You whimper his name in a desperate plea. Begging. Longing. Knowing he would fulfill your desires in his own time. Your body was his. He had claimed it and he was making sure you were aware of that. "Please," You whisper, fingers now clutching his black tresses.

He looks up at you and you feel the added intensity of his twinkling eyes. Your hips involuntarily thrust against him, craving the tantalizing sensations that tease you just beyond your grasp. His mouth covers your sensitive clit once again, his tongue flicking, licking, pressing with broad, flat strokes and caresses, driving you higher than you thought possible, until you scream your release. The rapid, relentless rhythm pushes you beyond your limits, causing you to surrender to the overwhelming release that consumes you. Overwhelmed by ecstasy, you bury his face deeper into your pulsating core, grinding against his tongue as your thighs tremble with desire. "Ulysses." You sob his name like a prayer. He tenderly traces the inside of your thigh, soothing your senses with his gentle touch. Slowly, your eyes flutter shut, your racing heartbeat gradually returning to its steady rhythm. Exhaustion washes over you, and the sweet embrace of sleep claims you.

With a soft knock on the door, the demon eases you back into bed, pulling the duvet over your body. Elmira glides into the room, placing the requested items on the table. "Escort the guest back to the meeting room, we'll resume the conference."

As you wake up from your poisoning-induced slumber, the darkness of night surrounds you, the castle eerily quiet except for the gentle sound of raindrops. Sitting up in bed, you slowly rub the sleep from your eyes, allowing the events of the day to slowly return to your mind. "Oh God." The events from earlier today rush back to you in vivid detail. You cover your mouth with your hand, shaking your head in disbelief. It must have been a dream, an incredibly lifelike, tantalizing dream. But the dampness between your thighs and your labia tells a different story. "I must have been dreaming."

"Of what?" The deep voice that you were starting to get used to startles you. Ulysses closes the door behind him, striding over to his desk. "I came to check on you after what happened earlier," His muscles tense and a surge of desire flickers in his eyes. Oh, and you were naked beneath the sheets. "So, I wasn't dreaming?" Ulysses chuckles humorlessly. "With the taste of your pussy still on my tongue, I don't think so." You try and ignore his lewd words, cheeks heating, instead you question him. "Earlier, when, yeah— you called me your mate, are we talking like, Australian mate? Pirate mate? Ahoy. What did you mean by it?"

"As in soulmate, predestined. You belong to me as I belong to you." His voice is gravelly and tinged with weariness, and you almost invite him into bed with you. "How? And how do you find me? Why me?" "Soulmates for Demons are rare, not many have them and they usually outlive them. Stumbling upon you was a fluke, but one I wouldn't change." Ulysses studies your reaction with a bated breath, searching and wondering. "I discovered you through your heartbeat. Your emotions. I could sense them all. Your fear, your relief, your longing."

"As simple as that, I got attached. Part of me wanted to leave you there, to never lay eyes on you again. However, your emotions anchored me. The solace you found in the echo of my voice and the sense of security you experienced, impelled me to protect you." Ulysses saunters closer, pausing to rest against the bed frame. "Your clumsiness, magnet to trouble, love of nature, and politeness to the staff, only made you more irresistible."

Your heart pounds relentlessly in your chest, a rhythmic thump that resonates with the intensity of a confession. "Whether you desire to depart from this place is inconsequential, for I have no intentions of releasing you," Is it sinful that you find yourself utterly aroused? The way his smoldering eyes possessively roam over your figure sends a tantalizing shiver down your spine. His eyebrow quirks in a provocative gesture, and his eyes sparkle with a magnetic allure.

You felt your cheeks flush and your heart pound. He knew exactly how to turn you on. It was wrong, but it was also thrilling. The way he gazed at you made your pussy drool. Your clit throbbed with excitement. A part of you blamed it on the poison still gliding through your veins. "I don't see a reason to go anywhere," you murmur, relaxing your grip on the sheet. Ulysses' jaw tightens as he advances, his lips crashing onto yours forcefully, swallowing your moan before breaking away.

"I'll put your mouth to use little human."

The thought of his throbbing cock sliding deep into your throat sends delightful shivers down your spine and the way his gaze darkens lets you know that he can also feel what you think as well. With a hint of shyness, you cautiously approach him, allowing the sheet to gracefully slip from your body, settling on your knees right before him. Craning your neck to look up at him, captivated by his towering presence. At his staggering height, you had no problem being face-to-face with his bulge. Your lips form a sultry pout as he gently cradles your face in his hands, while his other two hands firmly grip your hair, a hold that is both biting and intoxicating, leaving your pussy dripping.

A primal hunger consumes you. He was an irresistible temptation, and you had already indulged in a sinful taste of him, otherworldly and enigmatic. You yearned for more. "Put your hands on my thighs," He says softly, his gaze burning into yours. You inhale deeply, your head shaking in disbelief, your eyes sparkling with desire. "I've never done this before."

"I know." Those two words swirl inside you. Makes you shiver. With his remaining hand, he deftly undoes his pants, revealing his cock.

As you inhale deeply, your throat tightens and your eyes feast upon him. His jet-black hair is elegantly swept away from his captivating face. With broad shoulders and narrow hips, he possesses a striking V-shaped silhouette. His thighs are thick, lean and firm, but your gaze is centered on his pulsing, jerking cock. He's bigger than you imagined a man would be— well a demon. He's long and thick, perfectly matching his purple-grey skin tone, but there is an otherworldly quality to it that leaves you craving more. Intricate ridges and pulsating veins adorn its length.

"Keep looking at me, dove. I need to see you, to make certain you want this."

Your gaze swiftly ascended, locked in a passionate connection, for in that very moment, you were ready to surrender the world to him. He envelops his fingers around the base of his cock, guiding it towards your awaiting mouth, an act so tantalizingly arousing, it surpasses any previous encounters. (Not that you've had many, but…) Ulysses presses the velvety head against your lips, and the sensation of his precum moistening them ignites a pulsating surge of pleasure within your core. Driven by instinct, you part your lips and sensually lick the glistening droplets, taking the offering and savoring his taste.

His groan is deep as the flat of your tongue dances over his sensitive tip. He retreats momentarily, causing you to whimper in protest, which is quickly silenced as he abruptly sinks into your mouth, giving you what you want. He moves unhurriedly, each stroke taking him deeper until he's nearly at the back of your throat, careful of you. But you can feel the way his body responds as you suckle hard. It's orgasmic, the violent way his muscles contract from the burning pleasure. His gaze, dark and intense, follows every movement of his cock as it slides in and out of your mouth; tip and shaft sloppy now, dripping with saliva.

You revel in the sensation of his intense gaze watching your pillowy lips enveloping his cock, and this feeling alone from you has his cock swollen and engorged, so much so that your jaw aches. You sensually trace circles around the tip before lavishly slurping the underside of his shaft. Your eyes lock with his as he spasmodically twitches within your mouth.

"Enough." An order, his voice rough. He can't help himself. He had to have you. The plea in your eyes, the pure fire burning there, swallowing him whole, is too difficult to oppose. With one final thrust, he plunges deep into your throat, holding you there until your eyes well up with tears, before sliding his cock from your mouth.

Ulysses follows you down onto the bed, your arms circling his neck. Your thighs part, thighs glistening and pussy glittering in the soft, dull glow of the moons. And oh, he seizes the opportunity, lodging the wide head of his cock into that fiery haven. A growl rumbles low in his chest as your pussy clenches, squeezing around the tip of his cock.

Your cunt felt like molten lava engulfing him, so intense that he feels he might explode. Ulysses slowly applies pressure, short bursts that push through your resistance. It's scorching. So perfect. Too tight. Strangling him in a vice grip. The sensation is sheer bliss, your body stretching and igniting, reluctantly surrendering to his invasion.

Ulysses halts as he knocks dully on your thin, virgin wall and holds himself still, jaw ticking and hands gripping the bed frame, causing it to splinter. To give your body the time it needed to adjust to his incursion. He wasn't nearly in deep enough. The effort to remain still is almost unbearable. "Dove, look at me." he pleads. He had to see your eyes. Your lashes flutter and then lift. His stomach muscles contract malevolently. His body shudders and his cock thickens, and throbs, desperate for more.

You looked absolutely breathtaking.

"I need more," You whisper. "Please, hurry. Please. I'm burning up. I need . . ."

"I know what you need." Three of his arms embraces your hips, lifting you effortlessly. In an instant, your legs coil around him, ankles clasping at his waist, and fingers entwining at the back of his neck, eyes pleading. Ulysses takes a deep breath, for the sight of you is overwhelming.

He thrusts forward, with unrelenting intensity. Breaking through your innocence and forcefully entering your tightness, the scalding fire seizing him, and your tight pussy has no choice but to accept all of him.

You cry out at the bite of pain, but he feels you surround his cock tightly, tugging him deeper until he's lodged all the way, kissing your cervix. Your tight muscles contract around him, gripping and pulsating. Your hips buck. A small whimper of need slips from your throat. The need to fuck hard and deep into you repeatedly nearly sends him over the edge. "Are you ready? Breathe for me, dove." Your eyes meet his. Wild. So untamed, his breath catches in his throat. He holds you still while you try your hardest to grind against him, desperate to move.

"Please, fuck me." Your voice sends him over the edge. He moves then, drawing back and then plunging deep into your drooling cunt. Your tightness, like scorching silk, grip his cock. He feels the last of his control snap and he begins to drill into you. It's rough, too rough for your innocence, but he can't help himself. The pleasure consumes him, almost bordering on pain in its intensity.

He can feel you rising toward your orgasm. Surging toward it. He grasps your hips firmly, holding you, for a moment, savoring your tight, dripping cunt, and then he surges into you over and over with hard, deep strokes. Ulysses feels his balls tighten at the sudden, overwhelming convulsion of your pussy. The intense fluttering around him. Your moans fill his ears—his very being. Pleasure overwhelms him.

Each hard jerk of his thick, creamy cum spilling into you is a wave of pleasure. He raises his head and looks down at you, at the helpless, cute, bewildered pleasure on your face. Your lashes flutter and before you can open your eyes all the way, Ulysses slants his mouth across yours. Gently. Completely at odds with his roughness earlier. And you respond softly. Tiredly.

"Sleep, we have all of eternity."

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shadowkoo · 3 days

Text

Kingdom Cum

→ Summary: On the eve of your wedding, you're ready to let loose and make it a night to remember. In the heart of a vibrant city, surrounded by your closest friends, you're determined to savor one last taste of freedom. But when a series of unexpected encounters transforms the celebration into something far wilder than you ever imagined, you find yourself torn between temptation and the life you're about to commit to. At Kingdom Cum, the night is bound to be steamy; leaving your desires to run high, while dangerously blurring the lines between loyalty and lust.

↠ mingi x f.reader x hongjoong | 3.3k words | 18+ ↠ genre: y2k cyberpunk aesthetic nightclub, exotic dancer/stripper au, the filthiest smut i’ve written in a looooong ass time

→ Warnings: infidelity (Y/N is at her bachelorette party) double penetration and double teaming (you’re welcome in advance), fingering, oral sex (female receiving), partial voyeurism and exhibitionism, breast play, light bondage (bride sash used as a restraint), spanking, begging, semi public sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, doggy deluxe, edging, deep dicking, belly bulge, clit pinching, ass enthusiast!hongjoong, teasing expert!mingi, well behaved!reader, multiple orgasms, sloppy oral sex, cock swallowing, cock choking, throat fucking, size kink, heavy praising, slight degradation, creampies, cum play, cum stuffing, overstimulation, the slightest power play, mingi’s got a magic cross dick piercing (bc why not hehe i’m feeling evil) there’s probably more I’m missing

→ Networks: @ksmutsociety @k-vanity

→ Author Note: a big thank you to beezy @hobeemin for beta editing, to cherry @shuadotcom, summer @beomcoups, booki @kwanisms, and maren @wooahaeproductions for hyping me up and letting me scream about this!

And also to sevn @aaagustd & nabi @jenoslutie for being my sprinting partners for several days i would have never finished this without the motivation fr, ILYSM <3

It’s almost midnight, and the real fun is about to begin. It’s your bachelorette weekend, and you’re surrounded by your closest friends, ready to celebrate in style.

The city lights glimmer outside, but all laughter and music are inside. Drinks flow as you and your crew revel in the weekend's freedom. You’ve been looking forward to this escape for months and with your girls by your side, the energy is electric.

The night is young, the city is yours, and the party is only getting started.

“Just wait, I’ve heard they strip everything,” Yeri says, emphasizing her last word.

“They better be hot,” Sunny jokes, lifting her cup to sip her drink. You’re all sitting at a table in Kingdom Cum, a popular cyberpunk nightclub that’s known for having the two best after-dark dancers in the city - SpankMaster and SlickNasty.

“Hi ladies,” a male says from behind your group, “We can’t show you everything, but you won’t be disappointed.”

Turning to look, you see that it’s a gorgeous man with a blue streak running through his tousled hair. He runs his ring-covered fingers through his colorful strands, furthering the messy-styled look.

“I heard earlier that a bachelorette party would be joining us tonight. After spotting you sexy ladies, I knew you had to be the group.”

His eyes land on you, “You must be the bride.”

It’s obvious, you can’t pretend otherwise - even if you want to. You’re wearing a slutty white bra top (per Yeri’s demand), and white cheetah print pants with a ridiculous silk sash that says ‘Future Mrs.’ across the middle.

“Mingi, better known as SlickNasty, at your service,” He says, extending a hand toward you. His fingers brush yours before gently lifting your hand to his lips. Mingi’s eyes never leave yours, holding your gaze as he places a soft, lingering kiss on the back of your hand.

It feels way more intimate than it’s probably meant to be.

As he finishes, he lowers your hand slowly, releasing it with a sly smile that hints at something more.

Or maybe that’s exactly how he meant it…

“And here comes the other half of tonight’s show,” Mingi says directing your attention to the next stunning man walking over to your table.

“Hello ladies, I’m Hongjoong, your SpankMaster. My pleasure to meet you,” he says, his voice deep yet smooth, brimming with confidence that radiates from his effortless demeanor. “We’re here to steal the lovely bride-to-be for the first performance.” He winks at Sunny, whose cheeks instantly heat up.

“Oh, yeah, absolutely! Take her away!” She blurts, practically pushing you out of your seat and into their arms. You rise to your feet and follow them as they lead you backstage.

“Alright, hot stuff,” Hongjoong says once you’re hidden behind the curtain. “Excuse my manners, I forgot to ask for your name.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“Here,” Mingi directs you to sit down on the chair conveniently placed at the center of the stage. He stands to your left, hovering over you as Hongjoong leans in on the right side.

“Just gotta confirm before the show starts, do we have your consent to touch you on stage?” Mingi questions an inch away from your heated face.

“Yes,” You nod, giving them permission.

“That’s a good girl,” Mingi whispers in your ear. Before you have time to react, the curtains sweep open, and bright lights flood the stage, momentarily blinding you. Over the rush of excitement, you can hear your friends cheering wildly from their table.

The two explode onto the stage with electrifying energy, their movements sharp, fluid, and in perfect sync with the pounding beats. A few backup dancers join behind where you are seated. They’re all dressed in neon, complementing the trendy punk looks of Mingi and Hongjoong.

The stage vibrates with power as they hit every beat with precision, seamlessly blending their different styles together.

“How’s everyone doing tonight,” SpankMaster (Hongjoong) grins, swaying his hips to the beat as he struts down the catwalk of the stage. He poses at the end, teasing all the women in the room as he slowly lifts a corner of his tank top.

He drops the fabric and wags a finger, “Not quite yet, I wanna hear you scream for it.” The crowd erupts, giving him exactly what he demands and he chuckles.

“That’s good, very good actually,” he praises. “SlickNasty, you think you can help me out?”

Mingi saunters over until he’s behind Hongjoong, resting his hands on his friend’s shoulders before running them down his chest. He bunches the thin fabric between his fingers and tears Hongjoong’s shirt right down the middle, leaving the shreds to fall onto the stage.

They turn around, gyrating their hips to the beat and in sync with one another, before walking back over to where you are seated.

“Ready to have some fun?” Mingi’s breath tickles your neck as he straddles your lap. He hovers above you before crossing his arms and slowly lifting his shirt off next, tossing it somewhere offstage where two women fight over it.

As Mingi dances, his gaze remains fixed on yours, an unspoken connection pulsing between you both with every move. The music echoes around you, but it's the intensity of his eyes that holds your attention, drawing you in deeper.

Even as his body twists and sways in rhythm, he never breaks eye contact, as if the entire room has faded away and it's just the two of you in this moment. Each glance feels deliberate, filled with a mix of arrogance and something darker that keeps you locked in, unable to look away.

The rest of the song is a blur of skin and muscles. Every roll of Mingi’s hips has your insides burning more and more. The air is thick and heavy, like the calm before a storm. And boy, do you want it him to rain down on you.

His movements overflow with unspoken words, and tension hums beneath the surface. It’s electric and suffocating, as if any moment could tip the scales and send everything spiraling out of control. That thought pools heat between your thighs.

Hongjoong saunters back over toward you, pausing to tap Mingi on the shoulder. It’s their signal to one another, and they switch positions effortlessly.

Mingi returns to the front of the stage, dancing energetically while engaging with the crowd, drawing them in with his cocky presence.

Hongjoong has a sideways grin on his face as he pulls you to your feet. “Show me your moves, hot stuff," he teases with a grin, twirling you around with effortless grace. As the spin ends, he slides down your side, fluidly and playfully, syncing perfectly with the rhythm of the music.

Swaying your hips against his, you raise an arm to your hair to release the claw clip currently holding it up. Tossing your head back, you let the curls bounce around you as move to the beat. Your friends’ screams fade into the background as you lose yourself in the moment.

Mingi watches you, his eyes all dark and broody. He’s entranced, stuck under your spell as you grind against his best friend. His eyes lock with Hongjoong’s and they share a silent exchange, and with a quick nod, agree on the matter.

Your moment is suddenly interrupted when the crowd erupts into chaos, the lights dimming, and then it dawns on you. Their set is over. This is over. Damn.

The backup performers step out from the shadows and down into the crowd, pulling fellow show-goers to the open dance floor. The DJ picks up the tempo as more and more people leave their seats to join in on the fun, including your friends who are dancing with a few hotties themselves.

The curtains shut dramatically again, closing you off from the outside world.

“Follow me,” A stagehand says, grabbing your attention and directing you backstage with SpankMaster and SlickNasty.

“Um…What now?” you ask nervously as the two look at each other knowingly. “I should-uh. I should head back, right?” You awkwardly point to the front of the venue.

“Well, now you have a decision to make,” Hongjoong smirks. “You can go back to your friends…”

“Or you can stay here with us,” Mingi finishes, cracking open the door to his dressing room, inviting you to join them.

Your gaze travels back and forth between the two. Half of you knows better than to pretend like you don’t know what will happen if you go in there. But the other half of you is dying to find out if you’re right. It is your last night of freedom, how can you turn down this chance?

“Do you trust us?” Mingi asks, pulling you from your battling thoughts.

“Yes.”

Your stomach twists in anticipation as they shut the door behind you, and with a decisive click, you’re locked inside.

Mingi is the first to touch you, his large hands wrapping around your bare waist, pulling your backside up against his front. Those same hands slide up to your breasts, kneading them lightly at first. You moan, reaching backward to clutch his strong thighs, your nails digging into them as his grip tightens.

“You’re gonna be a fun one, aren’t you,” Mingi chuckles in your ear, nipping at it gently before pulling away from you. He joins Hongjoong who’s sitting on the black couch, waiting.

“Last chance to leave, sweetheart,” Hongjoong warns, tapping the space between him and Mingi. Your legs move before your mind and heart even catch up to what you truly want, what you crave.

You should be running back to your friends, and yet, you sit.

“Good girl,” Hongjoong murmurs before crashing his lips against yours. His tongue tickles the corner of your lips, demanding to be let inside.

Simultaneously, Mingi works to undo your pants. You lift your hips, giving him space to drag the fabric down your hips, leaving them in a pile on the floor.

“Damn, baby,” he groans, looking at your damp panties. “Look how worked up you already are. Spread your legs for us. Let us see how wet you are.”

You comply and are kindly rewarded when Mingi’s fingers pull your panties to the side. Sucking in a sharp breath, your head falls back as he spreads your dewy folds open with his digits.

“Is the fact that I’m fingering you while my best friend watches getting you all worked up?” he questions devilishly, already knowing the answer. Your face twists in pleasure with every curl of his fingers.

Mingi’s other hand wraps around your hair, pulling your mouth to his. He sucks in your bottom lip, surprising you when he bites down.

Hongjoong sucks on your exposed neck, then hovers above the spot he created, pleased with the purplish spot already growing. One of his hands dips down between your legs, meeting Mingi’s as he adds another two fingers inside you.

“This pretty little cunt’s gotta get stretched out if she’s gonna take both of us. Do you want that?” Hongjoong asks, his voice all husky.

“Yes,” you breathe shakily, “I want that so bad.”

Their fingers quicken, pumping in perfect sync, each thrust inward hits that sweet spot that has you dancing dangerously close to the edge.

“Please, please!” you cry out, begging for release.

“That’s it, gorgeous. Let us hear those pretty moans,” Hongjoong praises.

Your body inevitably tenses as shockwaves rush through your body, pleasure pulsating head to toe as your insides contract around their slowing fingers.

Mingi tilts his head and grins. “Are you ready?” he asks as you’re catching your breath.

Before the words ‘for what’ even have time to register in your brain, he moves from his spot next to you and kneels between your legs. Swiftly placing his hands behind your knees, he yanks you forward. “I know what to do to make this kitty purrrrrr,” he rolls his tongue, “Are you ready to find out why they call me SlickNasty?”

“God, yes,” you plead as he rips your useless panties off, throwing the remaining fabric elsewhere.

Mingi delves into your soaked center, and he moans deliciously, loving your sweet taste. The one thing he loves most in the world is pleasing a woman with his tongue; the satisfaction he gets is unmatchable.

His tongue licks up your slit, circling the sensitive nub several times, making your legs shake and his length stiffen.

“Such a good slut. Look at you, trying to fuck my tongue,” Mingi rasps as you push back against his mouth.

You’re a moaning mess, frozen in pleasure, and Hongjoong takes the opportunity to untie the back of your top. He tosses it aside with the rest of the clothing that is quickly disappearing.

He sucks one of your velvety peaks into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth before sucking to alleviate the pain.

Hongjoong massages your other breast with his hand while his mouth continues its beautiful assault on your hardening point. He releases his lips only briefly, blowing air over your wet mound, before swapping to the other side.

“Fuck, I need more,” you beg, arching your back off the couch.

As if they know that you’re on the precipice of coming again, the two men work harder; Mingi’s tongue lapping your folds as his nose rubs against your sensitive clit, Hongjoong’s teeth tugging on your nipple.

A moan tears through you, your body convulsing as your second orgasm courses through your veins.

Without giving you time to come down from your high, Mingi flips your body over in one quick movement, leaving you on your hands and knees. He stands at the end of the couch, shoving his leather pants down and freeing his cock.

Your mouth waters as you take in the size of him. Something reflects in the light, and your eyes quickly land on his tip. It’s pierced, with two bars crossing over each other, creating the perfect ‘X’ marks the spot.

“Open wide for me, pretty girl,” he says, quickly shoving his length into your stunned mouth. He’s hot and heavy, just his tip alone fills your mouth. You stretch your jaw, opening as wide as you can to take in more of him.

Something feral inside Mingi switches when he notices his cock creating a bulge in your throat. He growls, grabbing a fistful of your hair to hold your head steady while he watches it move as he does.

Hongjoong undresses behind you, quickly finding his place at your backside. He takes a moment to enjoy your ass from this angle, gazing unapologetically before raising a hand to slap the perfectly untouched skin.

Your flesh jiggles from the impact, and he rubs the area to relieve the stinging. He admires the redness growing across your cheeks as he spanks you again and again.

You moan, vibrating around Mingi’s cock.

“I think she likes that, what do you think Hongjoong?” Mingi says through gritted teeth.

“I know something she’ll like even more,” Hongjoong answers before slamming his thick length into your heat.

“Oh yeah,” he practically purrs, loving the way you take all of him. With every hard thrust from Hongjoong, you choke around Mingi’s cock.

Mingi wipes the drool dripping down from your chin before gripping your jaw, “You’re just a toy that’s meant to be stuffed from both ends, isn’t that right?”

You nod as much as you are able with his length still shoved deep down your throat.

“Such a good toy,” Hongjoong compliments, awarding your ass with another hard smack. Your nails dig into the arm of the couch to keep from falling over.

Holy fuck.

Mingi’s cock twitches, but he holds back. He’s got other plans on where his cum will be spilling tonight. He makes eye contact with Hongjoong, and they share the same thought as he slips out of your wrecked mouth.

You mewl at the loss of contact when Hongjoong also pulls out. But before you have time to ask questions, Mingi lifts you and carries you over to his vanity, gently setting you down against the cool marble countertop.

Hongjoong’s eyes land on something white and silky on the floor; he smirks at his finding.

Perfect, he thinks, grabbing it from the ground and twisting it in his hands as he saunters over toward you. Your mind registers that it’s your ‘bride’ sash.

“Hold your wrists out.” You do as you're told, and he ties it around them. He lifts your joined hands over your head, pinning them in place. “Will you keep them there?” he asks.

“Yes,” you whisper, keeping them lifted when he removes his hands.

Your eyes wash across both men’s bodies, their cocks resting up against their abs. It’s the best sight in the world.

They look to you for approval as they line their cocks lined up with your center. You nod repeatedly, silently begging them to fuck you already.

Slowly, they both push into your needy cunt. You feel the cool metal of Mingi’s piercing glide against your inner walls as they sink into you.

Mingi tosses his head back once he’s pushed to the hilt; the position shows off his tense neck veins.

Meanwhile, Hongjoong hisses as his body goes rigid. Taking in a couple of deep breaths, he regains his composure and turns his head toward Mingi, giving a slight nod to say it’s go-time.

You scream out when they pull back, slamming back into you before you even have time to register. Pain mixed with pleasure at the stretch you out.

“You can take it, I know you can,” Hongjoong says, his hand gripping your waist.

“So fucking tight,” Mingi groans.

Your eyes land on your lower stomach, where you can see their cocks practically rearranging your insides. Moaning as you watch the bulge move in and up and down motion, your arms momentarily fall while distracted.

Hongjoong growls, grabbing your bound wrists and slamming them back up against the wall. His thrusts get slightly sporadic, getting closer to his own release.

Your body glistens with sweat, and Mingi is entranced by your perfect tits with perky nipples bouncing in circles as they hammer into you.

You hook your legs around both men, crying out when Hongjoong pinches your clit.

“Come. Now.”

Mingi’s demand has your mouth watering from the sheer dominance laced in his voice. Your eyes flutter as your face twists, accepting your fate as you succumb to orgasm number three.

Hongjoong grunts as your walls tighten around both cocks. His eyes roll back as he releases his creamy load into you. He shudders, pulling out of you and watching some of his cum drips onto the floor below.

Mingi growls after Hongjoong steps back, lifting one of your legs as he pounds into you one, two, three more times until his cum shoots through your soft folds.

You’re perfectly content and ruined, unable to move.

“Didn’t I say that would be fun?” Mingi says after noticing your blissfully fucked face. He leaves a quick kiss on your cheek before stepping back to clean himself.

When he returns, you’re about to reach for one of the tissues he has in hand when you’re quickly stopped by Hongjoong.

“Ah, ah, ah.” He shakes a finger, before putting two between your legs, stuffing their creamy mixture back up into your heat.

“That’s for later, when you’re missing us,” he winks, handing you your pants to slip on while Mingi reaches for your top.

“So, you better get back to your friends,” Mingi says, stepping back after he helps you into your shirt. “We don’t want them to think you got lost for good.”

Hongjoong taps you on the ass lightly as you’re led to the door, “Goodbye, hot stuff.” He smirks. “Good luck with the wedding.”

…Oh yeah…

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#ksmutsociety #kvanity #ateez smut #hongjoong smut #mingi smut #hongjoong x reader #mingi x reader #mingi oneshot #hongjoong oneshot #hongjoong fanfic #mingi fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #shadowkoo #400

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bloggerspam · 21 days

Text

Jazz is very nervous.

She tries not to visibly fidget, sitting with Danny on his bed waiting for her new sister to pop in. It’s the first time she’s meeting the fabled Dani-with-an-i, and she wants everything to be perfect.

She checks, for the fifth time, that there are enough cookies and milk (in a regular thermos) and that Danny’s room isn’t in too much of a clutter. She adjusts her clothes again, and breathes in and out in steady increments as slowly as she can so that Danny doesn’t notice.

It’s Saturday, and Danny is excited. She can tell, even if he’s acting like he doesn’t actually care what’s happening from behind the screen of his phone. He’s no doubt texting Sam or Tucker, trying to calm himself down. She knows this is important to him, that they get along.

It’s important to her too. She had to parent Danny ever since they were little and she knows now that it drove a wedge between them. As terrible as it sounds, if it weren’t for the portal accident, she’s not sure if they could have ever recovered.

She still mother hens him sometimes, but she’s been more of a sister now, and it’s all so very new. She’s desperately trying to keep that precious role he’s bestowed upon her, and she’s afraid if this doesn’t go well she’ll lose both her little brother and her little sister.

She checks the cookies and milk for the sixth time.

A rhythmic knock of 4 beats tap on Danny’s window, and they both turn to see a very familiar face phasing through the glass. The newcomer hesitantly settles themself onto the floor, eyes glancing back and forth between Danny and her with wariness. Oh gosh, Jazz knew Dani-with-an-i was a clone, but she didn’t think they would actually look that much alike considering their different genders.

“Hi! You must be Dani-with-an-i!” Jazz tries to inject as much chipperness into her voice as she can to mask her nervousness, but she’s not sure if she succeeds.

“Must I?” Dani-with-an-i drolls. Ah, definitely Danny’s clone.

“You must.” Danny slips off the bed and lunges at her, transforming into Phantom halfway through before they tumble through the room like little delinquents. The peals of laughter make all of Jazz’s anxieties go away. It’s nice. It’s lovely.

She coughs loudly, to get their attention, and it’s gratifying to see Danny immediately pop up to face her. Dani-with-an-i takes a second, but follows along. That, too, makes her feel happy.

“Cookie?” Jazz feels her smile turn into a grin as she holds up a cookie in each hand. The two Dannies share a look, before lunging at her.

From there it’s amazing. It’s like Dani-with-an-i has always been there, as the third sibling of the Fenton family. They’re laughing and learning about each other, sticking to lighter topics, as Danny has already told her about Dani-with-an-i’s entire history and current travel log.

Two hours later, they’ve demolished the cookies and milk. They’re doing a sort of rudimentary medical check now, to make sure Dani-with-an-i is stable. She and Danny have been transforming back and forth, doing small scale tests with harmless powers.

Jazz decides she should go downstairs to grab some real food for the two of them before their parents come home, so she gets up to grab the tray of empty glasses and cookie plate. She struggles a little bit as she tries to open the bedroom door with the tray in her hands to go down, only for the door to swing open for her from the other side instead.

She comes face to face with her parents, right as Danny de-transforms behind her.

It’s a blur after that.

There’s screams, lots of screams. Get back here Ghost! comes up. Ghost scum and Specimen and a whole slew of other expletives are said multiple times.

Danny’s room is trashed and the hallway suffers from burn marks and a lot of holes.

They can’t be reasoned with.

They’re grabbing weapons, they’re shooting at Dani-with-an-i, they’re shooting at Danny.

Jazz tries to stop them, but Jack sweeps her away like a mosquito. She slams into the wall.

“We’re going to rip you apart, molecule by molecule!” Jack growls, reaching towards Danny as he dodges the swipe.

“Oh Jack, more specimens!” She sees Maddie smiling widely as she aims for Jazz, her mother’s voice bringing shivers down her spine and causing her to freeze up.

This is, apparently, the worst case scenario.

Thankfully, Team Phantom was prepared for this eventuality.

Danny tackles Jazz through the floorboards with a shout in ghost speak that apparently means something to Dani-with-an-i since she dives through the shared wall of their bedrooms. Something about the go-bags? Right.

No matter how many times he’s done this to her, intangibility still feels weird. Jazz shuts her eyes until she feels them touch down in the basement. She’s shaking but she has no time to think about it--the second Danny lets go she grabs the keys to the Specter Speeder and rips open the door. There’s banging happening two floors up. They have very little time.

She runs around tossing all of their parents’ weapons that have any sort of tracking functionality to them into the Speeder--she’s memorized where they’re kept. She can hear Danny messing with the portal to set it to self-destruct like they planned for in case things ever got really bad. He’ll input a code into the house system next, one that Tucker made to destroy everything digital.

Just as she’s grabbing all of the thermoses she can carry in her arms, Dani-with-an-i appears with two bags slung over each of her shoulders, with a tote bag (the one Jazz keeps on her doorknob) stuffed with snacks.

She hears the banging come closer. The portal beeps twice, the minute warning bell Tucker programmed to count down the self-destruct, and the dread in her stomach builds like a crescendo.

“Danny!” She screams, grabbing Dani-with-an-i and jumping into the now cramped Speeder.

Danny sets all the papers around the lab on fire, and jumps in, slamming the door just as the basement door bangs open.

Jazz revs up the Speeder. The take off is a little bumpy, but the portal will be destroyed anyway. The Speeder can take a scrape or two. Judging by the sounds of blasts impacting the metal hull behind them as they finish passing all the way through the portal opening, it can take a couple blasts too.

She can’t focus on anything other than getting far far away, but Dani-with-an-i whispers that the portal door is gone. She didn’t even know there was a window in the back of the Speeder, but apparently there is.

She takes a breath, putting the Speeder on autopilot towards the Far Frozen as planned, and turns around to see her siblings.

They’re a little worse for wear, but they’re safe. They’re safe.

She grabs them both into a tight hug and cries.

===

This is chapter 1 of my fic for @invisobang 2024, read the rest here on AO3!

Inspired by this fanart and prompt by @impyssadobsessions!!

#danny phantom #danny fenton #jazz fenton #danielle phantom #dani phantom #fenton siblings #escape to the ghost zone au #ghost zone #infinite realms #halfa jazz #Invisobang #Invisobang 2024 #Danny Phantom Big Bang #my writing

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onlyswan · 1 year

Text

summary: in which moving in together is a herculean task and jungkook teaches you how to fold his underwear.

> est. relationship, fluff, angst lowkey / wc: 3.2k

> warnings: mention of h!ckeys and or/l s/x (f. receiving), allusion to c*ckwarming and s/x

> in which masterlist!

note: who else will drunkenly research about men’s underwear and scroll through calvin klein’s website at 2am to write this for shit and giggles and self-indulgence if not art <3 as always i love hearing your thoughts thru reblogs/comments/asks !! 🥺

—

“pssst.”

“oh shit-”

jungkook looks up to find you standing by the doorframe of the walk-in closet, and the view instantly weaves a stupidly whipped grin on his handsome face. your hair is messy from sleep; your eyes are still half-lidded; and your lips are wrapped around the straw of the red water tumbler you’re clutching in your hands.

“baby! you scared me! what are you doing out of bed?”

“my bed escaped from me.” you mumble, padding across the wooden floor until you reach him. he watches in bewilderment as you fall to your knees and pull his arms out of your way. muscular body pliant underneath your dainty touches, he allows you to move him as you like.

“ahhh-” he produces a noise of enlightenment as you find a comfortable position between his legs, lying down across his lap. he’s forced to support the weight of your torso with his arm beneath your upper back, hand curled around your shoulder. “am i the bed?”

“mhmm, boo! i caught you. you’re stuck with me forever.” you go limp in his arms and dramatically press the back of your hand on your forehead like a damsel in distress, which elicits a chuckle from your boyfriend.

he bends down to pepper kisses along your jaw and exposed neck, plush lips brushing against the traces of love bites that blossomed on your skin this afternoon, courtesy of his friskiness. having always been extra sensitive there, the ticklish sensation makes you squirm. “that’s exactly what i signed up for.”

“oh?” you raise an eyebrow challengingly. “sure. let’s see if you can still say the same thing… three months from now.”

your fingers comb through his silky locks, taking a fistful and lightly yanking to pull him off you.

“as you were.”

a grunt tumbles out of his mouth when you change positions carelessly. in the end, you settle with straddling him, legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck, where you nuzzle your face and almost purr like a kitten due to the warmth that you’ve missed in his absence.

the process of transforming an apartment to a home together has been… exhausting, to say the least. you’ve had most of the furniture installed before you started bringing in your personal belongings, but how can a space feel so empty and so crowded at the same time? too many boxes, too many bags, too many things left to buy. the line between what’s yours and what’s his is blurring in your eyes, and this is only the beginning.

you thought dealing with jungkook’s self-admitted laziness would frustrate you at some point, well… which it did. however, it turns out that it is precisely what you need in this type of situation. yesterday morning, he successfully seduced you into letting him eat you out on the kitchen island. you reached the height of your pleasure twice in a row, nearly delirious as he was lost in untamed lust and moaned about how you taste, distracting you from planning out what goes in which kitchen cabinet based on dimensions and convenience. last night, he had to drag you back to bed at 5am because you ended up organizing your bookshelf for two hours instead of only getting a refill of water like you claimed.

“what are you even looking for?!” jungkook exclaims with a hand over his naked waist, clad only in his boxers, as he watches you rummage through four boxes in search for something.

“the easel!” you whimper, your calves breaking your fall as you slump back on the floor in despair.

“easel?” he squats down infront of a box beside you, scratching his cheek as his puffy and sleepy eyes scan the other boxes. “i don’t think an easel would’ve fit in here, baby.”

“it’s a mini one. the one i use to display my favorite book.” you pout to point at it standing in the second level of the shelf. he recognizes it as the limited edition book he bought you last year, and the flashbacks of him standing in line for hours to get it signed by the author are inescapable.

if hearing you say that it’s your favorite makes jungkook so ecstatic that he wants to break down into tears, he doesn’t show it. instead, he nonchalantly throws you over his shoulder, making a beeline to the bedroom. he yelps when you angrily pound at his back with balled fists.

“ugh, i hate you! put me down!”

he clicks his tongue. “bad!” he lightheartedly chides you, smacking your ass. “i’m cuffing you to myself! do you have any idea what time it is? you have class in three hours!”

“but, babe, i don’t want to attend!” you cry out, slumping as you grudgingly yield. “why do you have to be so strong?! stop lifting weights for fuck’s sake!”

at the time, you meant it when you said that you want to take the moving duties slowly since you have all the time in the world but… you can’t stand the clutter and disorganization for the life of you. at the same time, it pumps your veins with thrill, having an empty space and being responsible to breathe life into it with jungkook. out of all the life-altering decisions you had to make with your still developing brain, this is the biggest gamble yet.

you don’t know if you’re blinded by love, putting your trust in jungkook when he said that he wanted to build a life with you; or if it’s arrogance, having the trust in your ability to stand on your own feet again incase a match is thrown in a puddle of fuel on the floor. the latter is more painful to think about, quite frankly. just because you can, doesn’t mean that you want to. you have to. you have to. with bruised knees from praying for a little more time, you have to. the earth doesn’t stop orbiting the sun when your house burns down.

either way, it’s too late to succumb to your inner monologue. the stuffed toys you own, including ones you’ve dearly loved since childhood, are scattered across the living room. the journal you’ve been sadly neglecting for the past two weeks is just freely lying on your personal study space. you’re here, safe in his arms, and if there’s one thing you’ll always believe in, it’s this. and you intend to make the most out of each day the universe allows you the right to be here.

“you can fall asleep like this? while i keep moving?” he whispers, wide palm soothingly running up and down the expanse of your back.

only if it’s you, you say in the back of your mind. “you can see for yourself.”

“psh. always gotta keep me on my toes, don’t you?” he smooches your cheek, and then once more, lingering and refusing to part away. you feel his lips curling up against your skin.

jungkook reaches for the tumbler you left behind on the floor, capturing the straw between his lips and plentily sipping until he deems his thirst quenched. he sets it aside afterwards, returning his attention to the laundry basket he purposely laid on the floor so he can easily reach inside. he’s been happily working hard on the laundry after you both agreed to wash the clothes you haven’t worn in quite some time to keep your closet clean and fresh.

a little hiccup though.

quickly and unsurprisingly, you ran out of hangers between his long-sleeves and yours alone. therefore, he’s solely focusing on the to-be-folded for tonight, which mostly consists of shorts, casual pants, underwear, and socks.

he inserts his arm in the laundry basket to push out the articles of clothing closer to the edge, grabbing the nearest thing and proceeding to neatly fold it over his outstretched legs. his white sweatpants lands on top of its designated pile, and then the same goes for your tennis skirt, as well as his ripped jeans, and everything else after that.

jungkook being jungkook, singing comes naturally to him after breathing and more than blinking. he hums, chest vibrating against yours as he does so, occasionally singing the lyrics in between because he means them. a tattooed arm protectively wraps around you to keep you glued to his body each time he leans forward. his careful movements, along with his mellifluous voice, fool your senses into believing that you’re being carried out by the ocean waves to the shore of dreamland.

your boyfriend freezes when one of your arm slides down his shoulder, an irrefutable evidence that you’ve fallen asleep again. you finally tired yourself out, he breathes out a sigh of relief. he cups the back of your head as support, eyes shaping into crescent moons as he giggles as quietly as he can after seeing your face.

“so fucking cute.” he muses, rewarding your cheek with another kiss before securely tucking you back into his embrace.

he carries on with his task to allow you to dive further into unconsciousness. he spends the next fifteen minutes folding the boxers that were still stuck inside one of his suitcases, patiently operating with only an arm. his tattooed one is still preoccupied with maintaining a protective embrace around you. shortly after, he decides that it’s time for you to go back to bed.

“there we go.” he says quietly to himself as he succeeds to stand on his feet, carrying you with his hands hooked around your bare thighs. you unconsciously tighten your hold around his neck and release a deep sigh of contentment in your sleep.

he kicks the door open, walking with light, deliberate steps across the wooden floor. he climbs on the bed, knees sinking in the mattress as he gently lays you down. and there’s an inexplicable emotion stirring in his chest as he covers you with the blanket, accompanied by the epiphany that he is doing this at 2am not because time has arrived to daunt him and he needs to leave your bed to go home. not anymore. whatever this is, it feels so fucking good. oh my god, he looks forward to spending the rest of his life feeling you breathe next to him, getting lost in how peaceful you look asleep when he randomly wakes up in the middle of the night.

he tenderly squeezes your arms as he leans down to plant a goodnight kiss on your velvet lips, sweet and loving. slowly, and with the smallest movements possible, he gets out of the bed to return to the closet.

“love, you’re not sleeping yet?” your tiny voice barely reaches his ears but it pinches his heart, even more painfully when he sees that your hand only managed to seize three of his longest fingers to stop him from walking away.

he sits down beside you, intertwining his fingers with yours. “i will in a bit, baby. i only have the rest of my underwear left to put away.”

you blink at him hazily, silent as you digest his words in your clouded mind. “you’re folding them, too?”

“of course.”

and with that confirmation, you eagerly inch closer to him. “teach me.”

“huh?” his forehead creases, eyebrows knitting in a state of confusion.

“teach me.” you repeat yourself, bordering on a whine.

“how to fold my underwear?”

you innocently nod your head as a reply.

“why?” he asks, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth because of your unusual request. but then again, he can’t say he’s much that surprised. it’s such a you thing to do.

“i can’t?” your lips form an adorably small pout, and you sniffle as your eyes water with unshed tears of drowsiness. “but you’re my boyfriend.”

fuck fuck fuck, he curses inside his head. his heart flips and drops to his stomach. holy shit, yes he is. it’s infuriating, how it requires you little to no effort to have him wrapped around your finger. the endearing sight automatically tugs at his heartstrings, urging him to cradle your soft cheeks in between his large palms.

“i’m just curious.” he reassures you with a chuckle, leaning down to press one more sweet kiss to your lips.

“we do chores together…” you trail off, nose scrunching when his brushes yours. you smile sheepishly. you’re relishing in the mere inches between you — how you can see that his pupils are evidently dilated, his brown doe eyes appearing rounder and bigger than they already are. “so i just want to learn how to do it right.”

you swiftly throw aside the blanket enveloping you when he voices out his permission with an “it’s so easy!”, cheerfully jumping off the bed. captivated by your unique charm, jungkook allows himself to be dragged away as a breathing, walking picture of pure adoration.

—

he finds himself sitting on the same spot on the floor, back comfortably resting on the cabinets now that you’re beside him instead of on him. your drooping eyes follow the every movement of his dexterous hands as he folds a calvin klein trunk on his lap, black with a white waistband. wearing an orange beanie of his you found stuck underneath the laundry basket, you obediently bounce your head as he earnestly demonstrates it with instructions.

“so you take this side and fold it over to the middle, and then! you do the same with the other one, so they’re folded equally like this.”

he briefly picks it up to show it to you from rim of the waistband, the two parts stacked and perfectly aligned.

“after that, you take the bottom and roll it over like… halfway? whatever, i just kind of do it by feel- and the final step… so you also fold the waistband here so you can tuck the rolled up part inside. it ends up looking this neat and compact, see?”

your gaze only flickers at the finished product, having seen what it looks like about a thousand times in his backpacks and luggages. “so these are called trunks… and those are called boxers?”

your boyfriend follows the direction your index finger is pointing at, revealing a pile of folded boxers sitting inside of his opened suitcase. he winces with his full set of teeth before he cracks up in laughter, the genuine curiosity you radiate is making his brain overflow with love and happy chemicals.

“right! those are more comfortable and breathable so i wear them at home, while trunks provide more support for when i need it, you know?”

“snug fit or loose fit this, boxers or boxer briefs that. you strip them off all the time to put your dick in me anyway.” you scoff, picking up another calvin klein creation from the laundry basket immediately afterwards.

a string of ditzy giggles slip past your lips. the light blue trunk was standing out among the neutral colors like a firefly in the forest, practically begging to be chosen as your first piece of work.

“i’ll do this one! you wore it yesterday. i love the color.”

his lips part open in surprise at your lewd and unfiltered response, a hand flying to his face to conceal the rosy shade that has begun to tint his flushed honey skin, many earrings collectively swinging and belly aching as he chortles. it’s embarrassing, really, how he still blushes despite having done countless sinful things with you. can you really blame him for being incapable of keeping his hands to himself when he’s so helplessly and hopelessly attracted to you?

he clears his throat, crossing his legs and moving to his side so he’s facing you. “go on then.”

you flap it against the air to straighten out the fabric, placing it over your thighs and meticulously following your boyfriend’s instructions step-by-step. you’re quiet as you commit yourself to the chore, floating in your little bubble of tranquility and concentration.

and jungkook is intently watching you with as much self-control he can muster. the urge to grab your face and kiss you senselessly is palpable, wrapping itself around his limbs like vines that have a life of their own, desperate to dip into the sun for a taste. they say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and he can attest to that to a certain degree… but dear god, its lack thereof?

there’s no sensible reason why the both of you should be spending your late nights in your new apartment doing stuff like this when you have an entire 55-inch television set up on the floor because you haven’t found the time and energy to attach it to the bedroom wall yet… and not to mention that jungkook had to write more batteries all types of batteries, tongs, and curtains as CURTAINS!!! in your little notebook of to-buy checklists because somehow, they never crossed either of your minds the last two times you went shopping for your remaining home essentials. his new gaming chair arrived this afternoon and he has zero clue where he will insert assembly time into his busy schedule. one of these days, you’re also bound to discover the plant namjoon left as a gift three days ago. he placed it at the balcony, and it’s only surviving due to the fact that it’s been a relatively rainy month.

although, that’s precisely what makes this moment so priceless and so grounding. you smoothly finish the challenge and sing “ta-da!” with a beam that causes your eyes to twinkle with a tiny sense of achievement despite your apparent exhaustion.

“oh?! looks perfect. good job, baby. goob job.” he praises you with a grin, affectionately stroking your hair. “let’s work together so we can go to sleep.”

his thoughtful words and action make you keen, coaxing the giddiness in you to bubble over. you playfully nudge his side as you haul the laundry basket closer. “i want to play. let’s see who can fold the most in a minute!”

“play?” his shoulders deflate as he sighs, battery running low.

“no?” your lips pucker up in dismay. “too tired, love?”

his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he gives it some consideration. he shrugs. “what’s in it for me?”

oh, damn it.

“the winner also automatically wins the light fixture debate?”

in which you’re referring to your month-long dispute over which color of the cloud light you should purchase for your shared bedroom. he insists on the white cloud that has the white light because it looks like a thundercloud, and on the other hand, you’re fighting for the pink cloud with the yellow light because it looks like the sunrise or the sunset depending on its saturation and brightness.

“alright!” he blurts out, a surge of energy kickstarting his system. he snatches his phone, which he left in one of the empty shelves near him. “baby wants to play a dangerous game, huh? the stakes are incredibly high! too high! are you ready? to lose?”

your mood sours when he begins using his variety show hosting voice, confidence dwindling but determination fueled and burning brighter now that he’s in higher spirits.

you roll your eyes. “yeah, sure. ready to lose the white variation in my cart, bro.”

he smirks mischievously, his childish and devilish laughter echoing in the closet. “we’ll start the timer! in three…! one- go!”

“freeze, you cheater! i wasn’t ready! put that shit down!”

—

note: soooo, are you team oc or team jungkook? i will be keeping score 👩‍💻

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm to be added or removed :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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sky-is-the-limit · 6 months

Text

Clarity.

P: Charles Smith x F!Reader

CW: NSFW content, Doggy Position, Forced Focus

WC: 1,339 words.

It wasn't meant to escalate in that manner, not really. One moment, Charles was calmly imparting his knowledge, guiding you through the intricacies of maintaining focus in the wilderness.

His voice was steady, filled with wisdom as he shared techniques to sharpen your instincts and improve your ability to see with clarity. You listened intently, absorbing every word as if he was sharing the world's greatest secrets.

Before you could fully comprehend how, in the blink of an eye, you found yourself stripped bare, vulnerable for only nature and Charles to witness.

Your precious book laid open on the grass before you, its pages fluttering gently in the breeze whilst two strong arms embraced you from behind, their grip firm and unyielding as they held you in place by your hips.

"Keep reading, pretty girl." Charles mumbled lowly and with each syllable, you could feel him pushing in, inch by inch, his thickness filling you completely.

As he continued to push, you felt yourself stretching beyond your own belief. The sensation was overpowering in its magnitude as you accommodated his width and length. Every nerve in your body seemed to be on fire, electrified by his touch.

Despite the initial discomfort, there was an undeniable thrill in being filled so completely out in the open. It was as if you were being consumed by him and as he pushed further, the pleasure only grew.

"Let your eyes focus on every word." He continued and you followed his instructions, allowing your gaze to glide over the words on the page, absorbing their meaning with each passing moment.

Though patience was one of his greatest attributes, the sensation of your cunt enveloping him, sucking him into your tight hole, always ignited a maddening pleasure within him.

It was a primal instinct, a response that transformed him into a whole different man. As he surrendered to your warmth, a deep moan escaped his lips, echoing in your ears like the most addictive melody.

"And just breathe." He whispered in a voice much more gravely and broken than you were used to hearing, his breath warm against your skin as his lips placed wet kisses on your shoulder blades.

His hands tightened their grip on your hips, fingers digging into your flesh needily. With each thrust, he plunged deeper into you, his cock driving into your core with an urgency that bordered on desperation.

The rhythm of his movements was intoxicating and your back arched in response to his thrusts, every collision of his hips against your ass making the walls of your cunt squeeze around him, clinging to his length with a hunger that matched his own.

The words on the pages began to blur together, each letter melting into the next as your focus wavered.

His name slipped past your lips in a silent prayer, a desperate plea for more as the tip of his cock hit a sweet spot.

With each forward thrust, the head of his cock grazed against the entrance of your cervix, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

''Did I tell you to stop?'' Charles groaned, the sound deep and guttural while his fingers tangled in your hair, a firm grip that kept you in place to keep your head from moving and ensuring that your eyes remained fixed on the lines of the book.

And just when you thought you couldn't bear any more, he delivered a resounding slap to your ass without once faltering with his pace.

''Out loud, sweetheart.'' Emphasizing his command with another hard thrust, he drove his hips forward with a force that left you breathless.

''The courtier’s-ah- soldier’s, scholar’s eye, tongue, swor- Oh, god-'' With a shaky voice and soft whimpers escaping your lips between each word, you began to recite the lines of the book aloud.

It was a struggle to form coherent sentences, the words tumbling out in a disjointed jumble as your mind struggled to focus.

The pace he took was immediate, hard, and animalistic, each thrust carrying the force of a vigor urge to make sure you could feel the power behind his movements, each one driving you closer insanity.

His strong hands clasped your love handles with a firmness that bordered on possessive, leaving bruises in their wake.

As your cunt clenched around him, he dipped one hand to stroke your clit, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. The sensitive little nub responded eagerly to his touch, causing every muscle in your body to tighten to the point of near numbness.

''Keep going, angel.'' Charles repeated the same pattern for what felt like an eternity, each thrust driving deeper into you with a relentless determination.

''The expectation- ah'' You stuttered out, the words catching in your throat as you struggled to articulate amidst the need to keep breathing.

''And rose of the fair state-'' And even as your body trembled and your breath hitched with each thrust, you refused to falter.

Your thighs throbbed from the force of his thrusts, the pleasure coursing through your veins like liquid fire.

With each movement, the knot in the pit of your stomach grew tighter, threatening to unravel at any moment. Desperate to feel it release, you planted your elbows down firmly, bobbing your hips to meet his thrusts.

''Good girl.'' An amused purr sounded from Charles as his grip traveled from your hips to your breasts, kneading your nipple between his fingers.

A desperate whimper escaped your lips as you found yourself growing even more aroused. You had always loved it when Charles called you a good girl, but to have him treat you like that, how sinful it all was, was something else entirely.

''The glass of fashion and the mold of form-'' You trembled with emotion, the words escaping your lips in a desperate plea for release.

"So good-" His voice was raw with need, each word punctuated by the rhythmic movement of his body against yours.

His pattern grew unfocused and inconsistent, but each thrust built up pressure boiling low in your stomach, before one final shove of his cock combined with the attention to your clit caused the build-up to shatter, sending you into your orgasm.

The coil inside you finally snapped, releasing the tension that had been building within you like a tightly wound spring. In that moment, as the pressure reached its breaking point, your walls seized around his cock with an intensity that took your breath away.

''Charles, god!'' Your entire body convulsed with pleasure, every muscle tensing as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

It was as if a dam had burst within you, flooding your senses with a torrent of sensation that left you reeling.

You choked as the full weight of him collapsed onto you, his hips driving his twitching cock as deep as it could go into your dripping cunt whilst his warmth flooded your insides.

Every pulse of his release was felt within you, every twitch of his spent cock and as he finally settled against you, panting heavily into the column of your throat, you could feel the rapid beat of his pulse against your skin.

Charles then gently laid you down on the soft grass, his touch tender and reverent as he cradled you in his arms. The cool blades of grass brushed against your skin, a soothing contrast to the heat that still lingered within you from your recent exertions.

As he sprawled out next to you, his body pressed close to yours, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. His arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close to his chest as if to shield you from the world.

The scent of the earth surrounded you, mingling with the musky aroma of his skin. It was a comforting embrace, one that filled you with a sense of warmth and security.

"You did good, angel." Charles whispered softly, his touch soothing as his hand rubbed your arm in a comforting manner that grounded you in the moment.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #charles smith #charles smith smut #charles smith x reader #charles smith x you #rdr2 smut #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan smut

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kesujo · 1 month

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Chapter 4 - Miss All-Night

Previous chapter here.

Having finished his transformation now for a week, Kang Seojun didn’t really feel particularly different. Although he could definitely feel the physical improvements at times, he didn’t really feel as different as he thought he would. So, as a way to experiment with the physical limitations of his body, Seojun conducted various experiments and discovered a newfound love for running.

Before, it felt like he could barely run a few hundred meters before starting to feel his relatively unathletic body start tiring out. But now, that feeling simply never came. No matter how much Seojun ran, that feeling of muscular fatigue or that squeezing tightness in his lungs and chest and the shortness of breath just never came. What replaced those feelings was the rush of wind on his skin, the blur of the surroundings, the pumping of his legs as his feet propelled him forward bounds of steps at a time. It was that great initial feeling of running, but prolonged for minutes, hours on end.

But that was about the extent of the changes Seojun felt; there was no aura of confidence that he had suddenly developed similar to the ones Taeyeon or Yeoreum had. Kang Seojun’s third encounter with a succubus just confirmed that the only changes in his body were physical when she landed right next to him as he was tending to the garden surrounding Taeyeon’s house.

“Oh, pretty!”

Seojun screamed in a way that was much too feminine to his liking, his body jumping a good few feet away from the demoness who was currently tucking her wings back into her body.

“Are you Taeyeon’s newest servant? Kang Seojun, right? Is Taeyeon home?”

“Y-Yeah, nice to meet you—Taeyeon said she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning…”

This was the third insanely beautiful woman he, in his previous life, would’ve never suspected would even talk to him, much less address by name. She stood about a good few centimeters taller than Taeyeon and, as sexy as Taeyeon was, this succubus was even more so. Maybe it was her considerably curvier body, the slim waist accentuating her bigger bust and wider hips, her legs striking the perfect balance between having substance and being slim. Maybe it was how fierce her eyes looked, or how luscious and plump her lips were, or how creamy her skin looked, or how unabashedly she showed off all of her assets, her shorts leaving miles of legs on full display and her top showing a good eyeful of cleavage.

The second sign that the transformation did little to change the way his brain worked was how quickly he felt a tightness in his pants just from looking at the brazenly, dangerously sexy succubus shooting him a sweet smile, a sharp contrast to her alluring appearance. “Ooh, it’s nice to meet you! My name is Tiffany; I heard really good things about you from Taeyeon.”

Seojun almost jumped when Tiffany confidently walked forward and gave him a quick hug. In that split second, his suspicions were confirmed when he felt her well-endowed bosom press quickly but firmly against his own chest through the light shirt he was wearing. Even the bubbly Yeoreum wasn’t this forward and friendly … something about Tiffany seemed a bit different than the other two he’s met. Her appearance, her actions, even her manner of speaking somewhat … what was it?

“You know, I want to taste this infamous delicacy of semen for myself.”

Seojun felt like he could’ve done a spit take if he had any water in his mouth.

Such straightforwardness was definitely not a typical South Korean attribute … that was it! Foreign was the right word. This difference Seojun noticed in Tiffany compared to the others was that Tiffany seemed a little foreign, Western especially. Maybe American—not that he really ever met an American face-to-face.

“May I?”

“Wha-What? Right here?”

Seojun was so taken by surprise that he couldn’t even think straight, blurting out the response before Tiffany’s giggle and reply made him realize how stupid his words were. “No, silly. We’ll go inside. Unless you’re into that kinda thing. I don’t mind.”

“Oh…” Seojun felt his face heat up in embarrassment. In that moment, how dumb he felt was beyond words. Of course, Tiffany meant—wait, what? She didn’t mind? As in, having sex outside, in the open? That idea … while horrifying in its own right, stirred inside him a deep kind of excitement, especially considering it with this spunky, overly friendly, aggressively sexual demoness.

“But, I mean, it’ll be more comfortable inside, on a bed, a few hours in.”

Seojun blinked a few times. “What? A few hours in?”

Tiffany laughed. “Yeah!” While she was still a few centimeters shorter than Seojun, the way she grabbed his hand and led him back inside exuded supreme confidence, similar to Taeyeon albeit with a bit more of a friendly energy. If Seojun were to describe the difference, Taeyeon gave off more of the ‘kind but stern mistress’ vibe whereas Tiffany gave off the ‘fun-loving fuck buddy’ vibe. “I hope you’re ready for a long night,” she said, having sped them right into his bedroom, throwing him onto the bed and straddling his waist with a demonic, seductive expression on her face, “because tonight, I’m not letting you sleep at all.”

Seojun’s brain had trouble processing the words, even as Tiffany threw her skimpy top off. He thought he understood one of the caveats of Taeyeon’s contract with him, that he agree to have sex with any of her succubus guests, and again thought he had a firmer grasp of it when Yeoreum came along and became the second woman he fucked. But being faced with Tiffany, who so brazenly arrived and threw herself onto him—or maybe it was more accurate to say that she threw him onto herself—made him realize that maybe he didn’t fully grasp just how lucky of a person he was.

But there was still one thing he was hung up on. “W-Wait—” Seojun finally found the strength to say those words as Tiffany was just about to rid him of his last article of clothing, herself already fully in the nude. The succubus stopped, her sharp gaze feeling like it pierced straight through his head and into his soul.

Tiffany seemed fully intent on following through with her last few words, meaning that she did a quick evaluation of him and determined she wanted him that badly? Taeyeon, on their first encounter, mentioned something about him ‘smelling’ delicious; maybe Tiffany could sense it too? Seojun tried not to let it get to his head, that all it took was a few seconds before one of the most strikingly beautiful and sexy women his eyes ever had the pleasure of landing on to become so thirsty for him that she wanted to go all night with him, but it was damn near impossible. Still… “U-Um, when Taeyeon tried to do something like this, I ended up passing out after not even an hour. I finished my transformation so it might not be as big of an issue, but the whole night, I’m not sure if I can last…”

Although it was a twinkling laughter that flowed from her lips, the fierceness of her gaze never diminished. It was quite amazing, really. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. I promise, you will.”

The words, spoken with such confidence and command, seemed so much like a directive to be obeyed rather than a spoken statement of faith that Seojun felt he had no choice but to believe in her. How, he had no idea—all he could think of at that moment was Tiffany’s warm hand, her slim digits wrapping around the length of his rock-hard cock.

A low, melodic hum of satisfaction emanated from Tiffany’s throat as she gave the erect penis a few pumps, the swollen tip already oozing with precum. “You smell so fucking delicious,” she said in a near whisper, her eyes locked onto the shaft pushed flush against the palm of her hand. “Fuck, I can’t wait for you to pump my pussy full with your thick cum.”

Seojun let out another shaky breath, the arousal in his system feeling like it was causing his blood vessel to burst at the seams. He only had a few chances to look at her ass and already couldn’t take his mind off it; through her form-fitting shorts, its nice, perfectly round shape was perfectly accentuated by the tight cloth and her wide hips. Just the thought of it caused his dick to twitch inside Tiffany’s firm grasp, precum now flowing freely onto the backs of her fingertips.

This was another thing Seojun noticed changed about him; his body seemed to release semen in much greater quantities, which made perfect sense for one who was meant to be a succubus’s primary food source. He could see that it was the case, but never really felt it, so it didn’t phase him at all—that is, until he saw Taeyeon’s pussy dripping with his semen after they had finished a particularly vigorous ‘feeding session’.

But while those effects were minimal on Seojun, it always excited his partner—usually Taeyeon, and now Tiffany. “Wow, your scent is so thick and you’re serving up so much appetizer, you’re really spoiling me.” The succubus licked her lips, her head dipping down and capturing the stream of precum with her tongue. Seojun grunted through closed lips, feeling the wet muscle make firm contact with his erection, feeling it almost snuggle it in its hot embrace as she lapped up the ejaculate, replacing it with her saliva.

When Tiffany’s tongue retreated back into her mouth and she sealed her lips, her throat flexing as the ‘appetizer’ slid down her throat, Tiffany’s eyes closed, a loud hum of approval and primal lust reverberating from her. “Fuck, I haven’t fed off a succubus’s servant for so long, but I’ve never had precum this delicious in my entire life.”

“I-I’m glad,” was all Seojun could muster, wholly unaccustomed to receiving such a barrage of compliments Kang Seojun once again thanked his lucky stars that whatever divine being that was watching out for him blessed him with the ability to live such an extraordinary life.

Tiffany slid off him, kneeling at the bedside, pushing his legs apart just enough so that she could fit between them. “You can be as rough with me as you like,” Tiffany told him with a smile so dazzling Seojun couldn’t even process her words before she enveloped his dick with her mountainous mounds.

Seojun let out a hiss, a pang of pleasure shooting up his spine. The warmth radiating from her body, the pressure being applied to his cock from the huge mounds of flesh, and absolutely impossibly soft texture of her boobs rubbing against the length of his shaft, all of it overloaded Seojun’s brain. Sure, he received titjobs from Taeyeon before, but with Tiffany it felt completely different. The difference in their bust sizes created a much more pleasurable tightness enveloping his cock, the confident smile sitting on Tiffany’s lips as she vigorously rubbed her milk jugs up and down his shaft only adding to the appeal to the whole situation. It wasn’t like his sense of pleasure was amplified like from Yeoreum or was being attacked from multiple places like from Taeyeon, but something about Tiffany’s eagerness and the pure sexiness of her lewd body being used to pleasure him created the sense of a building orgasm more quickly than usual.

“Do you like them?”

Seojun grunted in reply, his fists balled into tight fists, his eyes deadlocked onto her pink, delicious looking nipples sway with the motion of her bouncing tits. “They feel fucking great, Tiffany—shit!”

In a flash, Tiffany released her breast’s hold on his cock and replaced it with her mouth, her plump lips sliding all the way down to the base of his dick with ease, the warm, wet cavern completely devouring the rock-hard cock. Her skillful tongue wrapped itself around the circumference of it, bathing it in another thin veneer of lubricant. Seojun vision was suddenly replaced with the crown of Tiffany’s head, her hair gently bobbing with the up-and-down motion of her head as her blowjob started to rev up in speed and ferocity.

The combination of the sight of her head bobbing up and down on his dick along with the feeling of her lips and tongue gliding along his shaft was devastating, but not enough to prevent him from noticing the horns growing out of her head.

‘You can be as rough with me as you like’

Tiffany’s words repeated themselves in his head, and with that, an idea suddenly popped into his head.

His hands lifted away from his sides and onto Tiffany’s head, directly onto the protrusions sprouting from her head. Taeyeon, for the most part, liked to keep her horns hidden, so Seojun never had a chance to touch them before, so he was a bit apprehensive at first at first contact. However, upon feeling them, he could immediately tell they were as sturdy as they appeared and gripped onto it tightly, getting into the rhythm of Tiffany’s bobbing before adding his own strength into the mix.

Tiffany’s muffled moans crescendoed, Seojun’s roughness spurring the eager succubus on even further. Seojun could sense the impact of his roughness and understood why Tiffany had said those words: it wasn’t just a reassuring statement, but an urging one. Unlike Taeyeon, who was wild in her own ways but never particularly physically rough, Tiffany wanted it. She fed off that energy and responded in kind, her increased enthusiasm demonstrated in the increased vigor of her blowjob. Her movements sped up, his cock hitting even further back into her throat, a subsequent tightness increasing in response to the sucking Tiffany was doing in an attempt to eliminate as much air inside her mouth as possible, leaving the only thing inside her mouth Seojun’s cock.

Seojun barely had the time to warn Tiffany about his impending orgasm before it suddenly slammed into him, a torrent of his seed ruthlessly spraying the back of her throat, sliding straight down into her esophagus. “Fuck, sorry—” he found himself stopping mid-apology, seeing Tiffany’s delighted expression as her throat flexed impressively, not missing a single beat in swallowing each stream of semen as it erupted from the tip of his dick and directly into her digestive system. When his orgasm subsided a few seconds later, the familiar feeling of fatigue struck; although it wasn’t nearly as bad as his first time, he could definitely feel it. So how the hell was he supposed to survive an entire night if he was already feeling weary?

Seojun’s hands came off her horns, Tiffany releasing her lips’ vice grip on his dick. Although her mouth was no longer encasing his dick, he could still feel bits of its lingering warmth in the form of her saliva still coating its exterior. “Wow … Taeyeon always chooses good servants, but I don’t think any of them match up to you,” Tiffany noted, her hand reaching out and giving the stiff member a few pumps. “Maybe I should just live here…”

“Tiffany, sorry, but I’m already starting to feel a little fatigued. I can still go a few rounds, but all night…”

“Oh! Of course, let me fix that.”

Tiffany climbed back onto his lap, straddling his legs with her perfectly portioned ones. Her hands wrapped around his head, and in the next moment, her lips were on his.

Feeling her plump lips on his was just as amazing as he thought it would be. Her fresh vanilla scent wafted into his nose, her hands gently cupping his cheeks, the soft membrane pressed fiercely against his. Seojun, still being a relative novice at kissing, let Tiffany lead, soon after feeling her tilt her head for better access before her tongue came out to prod at his closed lips. He obliged, grunting in surprise at the sudden intrusion of the warm, wet muscle into his mouth making contact with his own tongue. The feeling was so overwhelming—Tiffany’s ferocity, the speed at which everything happened, Seojun barely registered that the feeling of his fatigue was vanishing as more and more of her saliva entered his mouth. It wasn’t until Tiffany pulled away that he connected the dots—was this her Trait? The ability to increase the stamina of her partner through the ingestion of her saliva?

What felt like minutes later, Tiffany released their lip lock, her hands falling onto his shoulders. “Better?” Seojun didn’t even realize his erection flaring back to life until her right hand continued downwards, giving it another few pumps for good measure.

“Yeah.”

Tiffany smiled, patting his cheek lovingly. “Good.” The gesture caught Seojun by surprise; the way she smiled at him, the way she gently patted his cheek … maybe it was just a lack of experience from Seojun, but it felt like Tiffany was acting like he was her boyfriend of a couple of years—or maybe decades, considering her immortality—by now. Even Taeyeon, as warm and kind of a mistress as she was, didn’t treat him with such loving gestures. Was this another cultural difference between the two? “You seem to have caught on pretty quick, so let’s get straight to it!”

She jumped off his lap, turning around and bending over slightly, presenting her shapely, perfectly round ass to him. Her hands reached back and spread the cheeks apart, revealing her glimmering wet folds already dribbling with her own precum, the puckered brown hole sitting atop her vaginal lips. Tiffany’s head was turned around, looking at Seojun completely mesmerized by the sight before him, watching his erection come back in full force. “Like what you see?”

Seojun could do nothing but nod, his throat feeling particularly dry. Sure, Taeyeon always demonstrated supreme confidence, but never did she put up such a brazen display as Tiffany did, showing off her pussy and backdoor with her cheeks spread apart, looking back at him with a teasing yet confidence smirk on her face. “Your—your ass is really nice, and you have a beautiful pussy.”

Seojun lost his virginity about two weeks ago, and despite how much sex he’s had since, it was still hard to get out of the mindset of being in awe of a woman’s body. Maybe that feeling just never faded, or maybe it was because it was Tiffany’s body. Whatever the case was, Seojun hoped that feeling never faded: the tightness in his chest and shortness of breath he was experiencing, his eyes hungrily drinking in the sight as if it was his last, his dick straining so hard against his crotch that he feared it was pop right off. “Thanks, but let’s save the best for last, OK?” Seojun’s gaze shifted up a few centimeters, onto the puckered hole above. Seeing his eyes move, Tiffany giggled. “Don’t worry, you’ll get plenty of time to enjoy this pussy tonight.”

When Tiffany started backing up, Seojun felt his heartrate shoot through the roof. Although Tiffany’s boobs were sexy in their own right, in Seojun’s opinion, her ass was easily her greatest asset. In all the few moments he had spent admiring it, never did it occur to him that he would be feeling it up close. But now that it was closing in, the realization hit him all at once: that beauty of a rear end, it’s perfect amount of roundness and plumpness combined with the tightness of the skin and the unblemished whiteness of it, was going to be grinding against his groin. Between the overly-exaggerated bubble butts wielded by Western women and the flatter ones from Asian women, Tiffany’s hit the perfect balance between the two: bubbly and juicy enough to be mouth-watering, but not too much as to seem over-the-top.

“You really like my ass, don’t you?” Tiffany interrupted his thoughts, giggling again.

“I’m—it’s so sexy, I can’t believe that you’re willing to use it on me.”

Tiffany’s eyebrows raised. “’It’?”

Seojun’s facial expression fell in an instant. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—”

Tiffany’s tail swished out of her tailbone, covering his lips mid-sentence in a shushing motion. The playful grin on her face told Seojun that his fear-induced outburst was unwarranted, supported further when she said, “It’s fine. Treat me like your possession. I’m nothing more than your fucktoy, your slut, for the whole night.”

While Taeyeon and Yeoreum were on opposite sides of the domineering and submissive spectrum, Tiffany was somewhere in the middle. The way she said the statement was with authority, but Seojun could tell by her voice dripping with lust and arousal that she wanted him to dominate her. And that realization just pushed his arousal to the next level.

Seojun’s hands went to her waist as she slammed her ass down, perfectly aligning his cock to slide right into her tight backdoor. “Fuck,” the guttural groan shotgunned out his throat the tight walls squeezing his cock with a firm grip. It was strange; although the tightness with which Tiffany’s ass suffocated his member made him feel like he couldn’t move an inch, it slid deep into her hole with ease nonetheless. In one smooth, firm stroke, Seojun’s cock fully hilted Tiffany’s ass, her plump ass smacking with a crisp slap against the intersection of his legs.

“Uuh, fuck,” Tiffany moaned in kind, grinding her ass against his groin as she accustomed herself to his size. The friction created from the action sent Seojun straight to the moon; it felt even more heavenly than he could’ve ever imagined. His legs tensed and his toes curled, his grip on the wide hips of the lustful succubus tightening as the pleasure from the one stroke sent such a potent injection of pleasure into his body that Seojun felt his consciousness flicker. “This ass that you’ve been drooling over, how is it?”

“It—it feels—it feels so good, Tiffany,” he panted, his mind so overtaken by pleasure that the ability to formulate words properly vanished. However, even if he could, Seojun figured no amount of description could adequately explain how fucking amazing it all felt: Tiffany’s firm ass creating a delicious amount of friction in his groin, the soft skin of her romp rubbing against the damp skin of his crotch, the walls of her repurposed hole gripping the width of his cock firmly, rubbing against his shaft as Tiffany’s grinding caused his rod to stir about inside her tiny hole like an oversized ladle in an undersized pot of soup.

“Go ahead,” Tiffany’s voice, husky with the feeling of lust and desire, floated into his ears. “Use me. Fuck me like you own me, like my only purpose is to take your rock-hard cock and every last drop of semen left inside you.” Seojun felt his body shuddering, turned on by yet another aspect of the demoness: her voice. Surely if he was still a normal man, he would’ve died by now from a heart attack.

Somehow, Seojun found the strength to pull back, lifting Tiffany’s hips at the same time, before slamming back inside her. “Fuck,” he muttered again, his entire body shuddering with the second injection of pleasure coursing through his veins. “You’re so tight, Tiffany.”

Tiffany soon began helping, lifting her ass up in tandem with Seojun rearing up his cock, and summarily burying his cock to full hilt with such force that the resulting smack! resonated about the bedroom. “You’re filling my ass so well,” Tiffany egged him on, her eyes closed and her head thrown back, lips slightly parted, her soft hair running down Seojun’s shoulders and onto his chest. Her legs wrapped around his tightly, her hands gripping the soft blanket beneath them, her ass and boobs jiggling in response to their fierce connection.

The cool room was set ablaze, the combined sounds of lust and desire filling up the room so completely it bounced off the walls. Seojun’s movements grew fiercer, Tiffany’s body willingly submitting to his every motion: when he increased the voracity of his thrusts, Tiffany accommodated by shifting her position to allow easier access; when Seojun’s lips found Tiffany’s neck, the succubus accommodated by tilting her head to the side to present more of it to him; when Seojun’s hands reached around and upwards to fondle her tits, Tiffany moaned in pleasure and arched her back to allow greater access to them. So accommodating was Tiffany that Seojun found himself completely lost in lust, mind focused solely on his own pleasure, absorbing every sensation Tiffany’s body granted him and every sound of pleasure escaping her lips, using it as additional fuel in his chase of his second impending orgasm of the night. The fatigue from his first release had all but vanished, his body brimming with as much energy as his first time with Taeyeon. Ordinarily, Seojun might’ve questioned why this was the case, but at the moment his brain had no capacity to consider anything else but the curvaceous woman in front of him, desperately bouncing in conjunction to his relentless pistoning.

“You’re so rough, fucking me like a depraved slut addicted to your cock. Treat me more like your personal sex doll, like your cum dumpster, and pour your sticky white honey into my ass!”

Strings of filthy words flew out of Tiffany’s mouth in the meanwhile, her deep, alluring voice pushing him ever closer to the edge. “You want it? You want my semen?”

“Yes! Please, pump me full with your delicious seed!”

“How much do you want it?”

“I need it! I’ve only had one taste of it but I’m already addicted to the taste of your thick, creamy cum! Please, unload everything into my slutty hole!”

Seojun obliged, the tension in his nether regions finally bursting. “F-Fuck,” he muttered, his body shaking violently with the cadence of his orgasm, an even more violent stream of semen bursting from his penis and into the waiting body of Tiffany.

“Oh! O-Ooh, oh god, oh god, it’s so warm, it’s so thick,” Tiffany’s moans streamed out of her mouth as uncontrollably as the semen from Seojun’s dick, grinding her ass fiercely against his groin in an attempt to draw out every last drop of cum from Seojun. Her ploy worked almost too well, Seojun’s teeth grinding and his body shuddering in a second wind, a final few streams of his white milk ejecting straight into Tiffany’s ass. “God—god, fuck, it’s so good.” Tiffany’s chest heaved, the rise and fall of her boobs causing Seojun’s hands to follow their motion. “I actually can’t believe something so fucking delicious exists in this world.”

When Seojun’s orgasm subsided, his panting slowed down, his hands falling onto Tiffany’s legs, his erect cock still wedged firmly into Tiffany’s rear entrance. Although it wasn’t as prominent as before, Seojun could feel it: the beginning signs of fatigue settling into his muscles.

Before Seojun had time to contemplate if he could actually last the entire night, Tiffany unplugged her ass, dribbles of his viscous bodily fluid trickling onto his already damp groin, and looked down at his gradually softening erection. “Looks like you need a bit more help, and I’m close too. Lay down for me, would you?”

Seojun obeyed, Tiffany’s ass following him until his head met the cushiony material of the blanket he was now laying upon. “Try to swallow as much as possible, OK?” Without further explanation, she pushed her soaking wet holes so close to his face that he could feel the damp heat radiating from them. Understanding Tiffany’s intentions but confused as to what she meant, Seojun nonetheless obeyed, his hands coming up to spread her firm butt cheeks aside so as to allow space for his face. With that, Seojun closed the distance, meeting Tiffany’s vaginal lips in a heated embrace.

Tiffany let out something between a sigh and a moan, the warmth of her tits yet again surrounding the hardening member of the succubus’s servant. He pressed his face against her, letting Tiffany’s juices wet his face, deepening his access to her pussy before sticking out his tongue. Yet another moan escaped Tiffany’s lips, cut off shortly after when her mouth became filled with Seojun’s cock. A grunt vibrated against his throat, his grip of Tiffany’s plump ass cheeks tightening, digging deeper into her wet love hole.

Eating out a pussy was something that Taeyeon had been teaching him, the results shining brightly as, moments later, Tiffany’s own orgasm arrived. Remembering her words, Seojun opened his mouth wider, his cheeks soon bulging with the fluid shooting out of Tiffany’s womanhood like a cannon. Try as he did, the sweet liquid started overflowing and dribbling out the sides of his lips and down his chin nonetheless. By the time Tiffany’s screams of ecstasy subsided, the amount of her juices that managed to escape Seojun’s mouth was so large that a noticeable puddle formed on the blanket below. Seojun breathed a sight of relief, pulling his head back, letting his face damp with Tiffany’s juices hit the cool air of the residence, swallowing the sweet-tasting liquid. “How is it?”

“Sweet. Is it supposed to be sweet?”

Tiffany giggled. “Succubae who have lived as long as Taeyeon and I have the ability to control the taste of our cum. Most don’t really care to do so, but with me it’s a different story because of my Trait. Of course, blood is a more potent conduit of transferring life force, but cum is just below it, and I imagine you’d much rather drink something sweet than my blood, whose taste I have no control over.”

Feeling it slide down his throat, Seojun felt another renewed surge of energy. His body felt warm, his senses sharp. Kang Seojun was positively brimming with energy. “So your Trait…”

“Is as you guessed. I can give my partner increased stamina and strength via the consumption of my bodily fluids.” So that’s why Tiffany stated that they would go all night. And with how energized Seojun felt, for the first time since hearing those words, he actually believed that he could last that long. “Now,” Tiffany said, climbing onto the bed. Seojun’s eyes followed her, watching her adopt an all-too-familiar position. “Come and get this pussy.” Tiffany’s eyes twinkled with excitement, her head turned around to look at him, hands resting on either side of the pillow and her tits brushing the surface of the soft material below them. Her knees were planted firmly on the bed, her juicy ass shaking playfully at him, her supple butt cheeks spread by the jet-black tail protruding centimeters above the puckered hole still glimmering with fluid, below both the prize: her slit covered with a layer of precum-stained vaginal lips.

As much as Seojun wanted to sit there and admire the sight of Tiffany on her hands and knees, presenting her ass so daringly and erotically, his desire and lust pushed his body into action. Seojun took but a moment to squeeze the plump cheeks hiding the jewel within, spreading them out properly before plunging head-first into the pussy of the eagerly waiting succubus.

“Fuck, fuck,” Seojun’s moans came out without a second thought, the fleshy walls of Tiffany’s pussy sucking his cock in like a vacuum. In his entry stroke, Seojun found himself pushing his cock all the way in, the swollen tip of his dick bumping against the edge of Tiffany’s vagina. With another satisfying slap! sound, Seojun watched as Tiffany’s ass bounced vigorously at the impact of his thrust.

“Uuh, god,” Tiffany moaned in unison, her back arching even more, the resulting motion pushing her ass even more flush against his groin. “Fuck that ass you love so much well, Seojun!”

Even without Tiffany’s direction, Seojun would’ve done exactly that. At first, his hands were firmly gripping her slim waist to ensure he had enough leverage to keep pistoning his dick inside her, but as he secured himself by wrapping them around Tiffany’s legs, his upper body moved up, as did his hands, eventually resting on her ferociously swaying tits. Tiffany let out another moan of pleasure as Seojun’s fingers quickly found her swollen nipples and pinched them.

Looking back, Seojun might feel embarrassed by how quickly he threw everything else aside, fucking Tiffany with reckless abandon, but at the moment his brain could do nothing else but obey Tiffany’s original directive. Even when Taeyeon played the sub, Seojun understood it wasn’t a go-ahead to fuck with nothing but carnal pleasure in mind; with Tiffany though, he could tell it was all about that, and he allowed himself to revel in it. His muscles felt teeming with life, his every thrust not tiring him but only fueling the next one. With every squeeze of her tits, with every resonant slapping noise her ass made with his quickly moistening crotch, Seojun felt his primal lust grow. Each stroke increased the tension by one knot, and slowly but steadily, his impending orgasm built.

“You’re so rough! Fuck me harder! Pound my pussy more! Yes!”

Tiffany’s words egged him on, his mind lost in a cloud of primal desire and lust, unable to even vocalize his orgasm when it arrived. Despite it being his third orgasm of the night, the ferocity at which his seed unloaded into Tiffany’s eager pussy surprised even himself.

“Oh fuck! It’s so much, oh fuck, oh fuck, it’s so thick! More, give me more!”

The most surprising thing was how after Seojun’s orgasm subsided, not a single bit of that familiar feeling of fatigue hit him. In fact, knowing he just came inside Tiffany’s pussy made him hornier.

“I want to look at you this time when I fuck you.”

It was Tiffany who obeyed this time, the twinkle in her eyes indicating her excitement and lust having not fallen one bit. “I can’t believe I get such a high-quality feast tonight. Or, more importantly, I can’t believe I’ve been missing out in the past few years.”

“Well I’m here now, so have some more!” With the final word, Seojun pushed his dick back inside Tiffany’s love hole. Her face contorted in pleasure again, her eyebrows creasing and her body shuddering as the warm, tight cavern once again took in his cock.

Tiffany’s sex face was just as alluring as Seojun thought it was, and that combined with the sight of her more-than-ample bust bounce with every thrust sent him over the edge what felt like moments later.

“Here it comes—fuck!”

Tiffany’s legs, which were wrapped around his waist, tensed, her hands gripping Seojun’s arms even more tightly as the fourth injection of her meal for the night entered her body. “It’s so hot, fuck, your cum is always so thick!” By the increased sharpness of her voice, Seojun could tell she was on the edge too, so he helped by giving her clit a firm pinch. “Fuck!” Sure enough, the action sent her sailing over the edge, her entire body shuddering violently with Seojun’s as his cock became awash with her juices. As fiercely as the orgasm overtook the lewd body of the succubus, the tightness of her pussy proved stronger than the pressure of her orgasm. Again, as Seojun’s orgasm subsided, he found himself no less fatigued than before; again, he found himself turned on even more from seeing so up close Tiffany’s orgasm, especially knowing it was because of him and especially being able to feel it with his cock still plugging her hole.

On Tiffany’s request, Seojun found himself sitting at the edge of the bed again, Tiffany in his lap but facing him this time. A content sigh escaped both of their lips as Tiffany’s pussy once again welcomed Seojun’s cock, her vaginal lips readily parting for the newly appointed VIP. Seojun’s hands found themselves cupping Tiffany’s bountiful butt as their lips collided fiercely, aiding Tiffany as she bounced vigorously on Seojun’s cock, her boobs pressed firmly onto his chest. Feeling her legs wrapped securely around his waist, feeling her wet lips on his and her wet pussy lips splattering her juices onto his crotch, feeling her moist and impossibly tight pussy walls gliding against the length of his shaft, feeling her bountiful bosom shake with the fierceness of their hot connection and her swollen nipples draw chaotic lines across his own chest, Seojun reveled in all of it. Every part of Tiffany’s sexy body was tightly pressed against him, working in unison to provide him maximum pleasure—and while it wasn’t comparable to how quickly the pleasure multiplied because of Yeoreum’s Trait or how Taeyeon’s Trait allowed him to feel his cock being fucked by multiple holes, Seojun felt that it was probably as close as regular sex could be, if sex with a succubus could ever be called that.

There were no words exchanged this time, Seojun’s removed necessity to breathe allowing the pair to extend their hot makeout session all the way to Seojun’s orgasm.

They moved from position to position, not leaving a single square inch of the bedroom untouched as their copulation carried throughout the night. Cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, Tiffany blowing him while Seojun laid on the bed and watched from above, standing 69, bent over the nightstand, bent over the bed, standing oral, Tiffany on top bouncing on Seojun’s dick, Seojun standing up with Tiffany held in his arms, both facing him and facing away from him, Seojun on Tiffany’s lap suckling her tits like an infant while she jerked him off, Seojun fucking Tiffany with one leg up on the nightstand, even with Tiffany pressed against cold window of the bedroom, and then all over again with the other hole and then with both holes with the help of a dildo or his fingers (or fist, whichever Seojun felt like using).

The entire night felt like a blur, his mind moving quickly from orgasm to orgasm without a hitch. It was during that night that, for the first time since transforming, Seojun felt sweat start to coalesce on his forehead, chest, and hands. However, as Tiffany was feeding him her bodily fluids in various forms throughout the night, that sweat came as a surprise to him considering the fact that he didn’t feel the slightest bit tired.

But what was even more astounding than that was that Seojun never once felt tired of Tiffany’s body. He reveled in every second of it, of being able to feel her curves against his body, of feeling her tight holes massaging his ever-erect cock, of the blissful feeling of unloading another giant load of cum into the eagerly awaiting holes of the tireless, lustful succubus. Seojun had been given the impression that Taeyeon’s Trait was the optimal one for sex, especially after his physical enhancements allowed him to be fine no matter how creatively Taeyeon used her power, but in those few hours, Seojun thought differently. Maybe because it was Tiffany who had the Trait, or maybe the Trait was just amazing in and of itself. But Seojun had not the time nor mental wherewithal to deliberate; after all, Tiffany’s three holes were waiting for his cock.

By the time the sun started to peek above the horizon, Seojun was railing Tiffany from behind while standing in front of the bedroom door, sweat dripping from his brow and onto Tiffany’s back, his hands squeezing the already reddened skin of Tiffany’s previously perfectly white boobs raw.

“Fuck, why does your ass feel so fucking good?”

“To make you feel good~”

“Your pussy—” Seojun was interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door, not one meter in front of them, open up. Seojun’s head shot up, his eyes landing on Taeyeon with a … perplexed expression?

“So it is you, Fany. I knew it.”

“Y-Your servant is a God-send.”

While Seojun felt himself slowing down in equal parts embarrassment and shock, Tiffany’s ferocity did not.

“I know, right?”

With how casually Taeyeon was speaking, Seojun figured that it was OK to continue, letting his lust overtake him once again.

“But have you been fucking all night?”

“Yeah!”

Taeyeon sighed, a sound that was more in the vein of humorous disappointment than annoyance. “You always take things too far, Fany.”

“B-But, if you had my Trait, tell me you wouldn’t do the same thing!”

“Tiff, I’m cumming!”

With a final grunt, Seojun thrusted one last time, hard, burying his cock as far as he could inside Tiffany before erupting yet again.

“A-Ah, shit, I’m cumming too!”

Seojun’s grip of Tiffany’s tits tightened as their bodies convulsed in unison, far from being the first occurrence of the elongated sex session, their juices colliding and mixing inside Tiffany until dribbles of it spilled out of her slit and onto her legs.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Which is why you need your own servant!”

After Tiffany’s orgasm subsided, she lifted her head to meet Taeyeon’s gaze, Seojun’s cock still buried to the hilt inside her. “Then, can I make Seojun my servant too?”

Despite being the one who suggested it, Taeyeon’s eyes shot open in clear shock. “What? Wait, are you serious?”

“Why are you so surprised? You were the one who suggested it!”

“Well of course I would, seeing that Seojun would be the first one you’ve designated in centuries! Are you sure you even know how to do the servant ritual?”

“…Well, even if I forgot, I can relearn! I mean, how hard can it be?”

Taeyeon just sighed, Seojun’s excitement and lust slowly dying down as he was finally granted a breather. “True, you shouldn’t—wait, Seojun isn’t your servant!”

“…Yeah…?”

“And you haven’t taken a single break?”

“Yeah—oh!”

Tiffany’s surprised interjection was the last thing Seojun heard. In the next moment, Seojun felt his consciousness being slammed into the ground like a paper bag by a runaway truck, blackness overtaking his body a split second later.

Next chapter here.

#taeyeon #kim taeyeon #snsd #soshi #smut #kpop smut #girls generation #succubae #The Pet of Kim Taeyeon #snsd taeyeon #snsd smut #tiffany #tiffany young #girls generation smut #tiffany smut #multiple orgasms

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hyunj1nsbae · 19 days

Text

Crimson ties | h.h au

synopsis: Drawn into the dangerously seductive world of Hwang Hyunjin, you become entangled in a toxic relationship where power and desire are locked in a fierce struggle. As the crimson ties between them tighten, you are forced to confront the darkness within yourself and navigate the blurred lines between love and control. Will both of you find a way to transform your tumultuous connection into something genuine, or will the shadows of your past keep you two trapped in a cycle of manipulation and pain?

Genre: smut,slow burn,fluff

Pairing : toxic!hyunjin x afab!reader

Warnings : explicit content,manipulation,power dynamics (detailed warnings will be in the chapters)

Status: ongoing

note: decided to turn the Hyunjin one shot into a series🥲

chapters:

chapter 1 : take it

chapter 2 : put in your place

chapter 3: distracted

#hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjinsmut #kpop imagines #kpop smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin #stray kids smut

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monstersflashlight · 10 days

Note

Hii!! I have a request I've been thinking about for a while,

How about FEMreader with a submissive vulnerable werehusband?, reader adopts a black and white normal cat, and spends alll her time on the cat and giving the cats pets, snuggles, and even cuddles with the cat sometimes, and werehusband is secretly fuming and making up a plan to get rid of the cat, he hates watching reader give the cat pets, that's supposed to be him getting the pets!, so one day while reader is out at work, he returns the cat back to the adoption center, goes back home to a completely fuming reader, since werehusband is vulnerable and we'll yk, submissive, reader spanks him, (all the kinky stuff *wink wink*) and calls him a bad boy, and instead, reader denies to touch werehusband as a punishment, and when they finally make love, reader makes sure it slow and stops whenever werehusband is about to cum.

Tyy have a night day/night🙏🥰🐺

Hi anon! Love your idea but changed it a tiny bit because I think it would be more fun this way, hope you don’t mind, enjoy! <3

The neighborhood cat

Werecat x fem!reader || dom/sub dynamic (fem dom), praise kink, pegging, spanking

You picked the cat on the street, and he was so cute and thin you felt so bad for him you had to take it home with you. He slept with you, followed you around and overall acted like the cutest cat in existence. You took so many pics of him that your phone gallery looked like a portfolio of a pet photographer. Until one day you came back a bit earlier, expecting your cute cat to be playing with the new toy you bought him, but instead you found...

A human-ish creature.

He had a human body, but cat ears and whiskers and a tail. He looked like some cat-hybrid creature and you were mesmerized for a second, then your fly or fight response kicked in and you screamed. He ran to you, covering your mouth with his hand (with freakingly long nails). You calmed down enough for him to explain.

He explained he wasn’t a cat per se, well, he was, but not always. When you finally got out of your stupor you wanted to scream at him, but you calmly told him to get out. He didn’t, he got on his knees and begged you to give him a change, to not kick him out. He had nowhere to go and you were so nice to him, he would take care of the house while you were away and he would transform back into a cat when you were back home. It would be like having a cat again and he won’t be homeless anymore. He looked so cute that you couldn’t say no.

And that’s how you found yourself with a werecat roommate.

Everything was going great, more than great. He left you tiny notes all around the house, and you gave his cat-form scratches every time you found a new one. It worked for you two. But what you weren’t expecting is to be so fucking fond of him, of those tiny acts of service and those tiny notes that made you smile every time you spotted a new one. You… liked him. You liked him as a person, not as your werecat roommate anymore. And you didn’t know what to do about it.

Until the one day you came home tipsy after partying with your friends and he had to help you get out of your clothes, and into your pj’s. He looked so pretty and he was so nice… You confessed everything in a blur of alcohol and confusion, and you fell asleep before he could respond. The next day you woke up with breakfast ready and a werecat looking anxiously at you. You talked it out and… it worked out.

You dated for three months, experimenting with domming and subbing and all the things in between. Your werecat boyfriend was a lot more kinkier than expected, in the best possible way. You discovered he liked to bottom as much as he liked to top, and you enjoyed both, too. It was a match made in heaven… or more like in a weird alleyway on a night out.

And your shared kinky side had its perks sometimes...

You were looking at him walking past you when he turned around rapidly and knocked the glass of water off the table. “Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?!” You screamed, the water going everywhere, your pants rapidly getting wet, too.

“Wha- I’m sorry.” He was looking at the glass on the floor like it personally victimized him, and it was lowkey funny.

“Why did you do that?” You asked, feeling confused by his behaviour and trying really hard not to laugh at the stupidity of the situation.

“I- I don’t know. It was close to the edge and I just… knocked it,” he was as confused as you about it. “I- I don’t know,” he looked hella guilty and you almost wanted to laugh. He never acted so much like a cat before.

And then you had an idea to calm the air between you two, sometimes you forgot he wasn’t exactly human- “You need some punishment for that,” you teased.

He looked at you with surprise but with a spark of interest in his eyes, his tail moving around as he asked: “I do?” He was so fucking cute sometimes you wanted to protect him against the whole world.

“Yes. To the bedroom, naked. Now.” You saw him running down the hall as you chuckled, following him. When you got to the bedroom, he was already sprawled on it, looking at you expectantly. “What’s your safe-word?” You asked, pulling your sleeves up slowly.

“Cream,” he answered instantly, his dick twitching and his ears moving around nervously. So fucking cute.

“Good boy,” you praised, making him blush and look down. “Hand and knees,” you ordered, thinking about a plan already. He obeyed instantly, his long tail moving in the air like it did when he was excited for something. “I’m going to spank you, and then I’m going to use a dildo on your pretty hole. Are you okay with that?”

“Ye- Yes, mistress.” You fucking loved when he called you that, and he knew it. Smart kitten.

You grabbed your favorite paddle out of the toy cabinet, not showing it to him as you approached. You spanked him without heads up, making him cry out and push his ass back. His tail was moving around like crazy and you grabbed it with your free hand, pulling hard. He cried out again, a puddle of precum forming over the sheets already.

You spanked a total of ten times before he was a crying mess, his cheeks red and tears running down his face. His ass was angry red, and your paddle rested against your hand as you looked at your boyfriend drooling on the sheets. He looked phenomenal when he was all pliant and needy, his dick bobbing every time his body shivered with a caress.

You decided you had enough teasing, you wanted to ruin him, and you wanted it now. “Are you still doing okay? Do you want to continue? Do you need a breather?” You asked, always prioritizing his well-being.

“N- No, mistress, please. Keep going,” his voice was so raw after the crying that your panties got instantly drenched. The power trip of playing with him was so good you forgot how much you liked sometimes.

“Such a good boy. Such a good kitten.” You passed him a bottle of lube, making a mental note to get more soon. “Open yourself up as I get the dildo ready, kitten.” Your order was followed by a whine.

“Yes. Yes,” he answered, forgetting the most important part.

Your voice was harsh when you asked: “Yes, what? Do I have to take the paddle again?” You reached to get it before he cried out again.

“No. No, mistress. I’m sorry, mistress. Yes, I’ll prep myself. Thank you, mistress.” Such a cute kitten, always babbling when he was needy.

“That’s better. Prep yourself, you don’t want to keep me waiting, do you?” You knew you’d give him all the time he needed, but he liked to be good, and you wanted to ruin him tonight.

When you were naked and had your strap on all settled, you looked at him as he worked himself open slowly, looking at you over his shoulder, making these mewling sounds that drove you insane. You approached him, teasing the tip of the dildo against his gaping hole, alongside his fingers. You took his hand away, pressing your body against his back, pushing his face against the pillow as he panted. The dildo was right at his entrance, and you took it in your hand to play a little bit more with him. You teased him for a few minutes, enjoying his pitiful sounds and kissing his back tenderly, shushing him.

“Are you ready for me?” He nodded, burying his face on the pillow again, biting into it with his tiny fangs. You chuckled as you guided the dildo against his hole, pressing firmly but slowly.

By the time you were fully inside of him, tears were running down his face again and he couldn’t stop begging you to go faster, harder, to give him more. But you didn’t listen. You fucked him slowly, marveling at the sounds and pants, at his soft groans and pleas. He was such a good boy for you, you wanted to kiss him senseless, but first you were going to make him cum so hard he passed out.

When his hips were rolling back into yours, and he was doing those pretty sounds he did when he was about to cum, you ordered: “Come for me, kitten.” At your words, it was like lightning hit him, his whole body convulsed and his arms and legs gave out, falling into a puddle of his own come as he rutted against the mattress, prolonging his pleasure as you tilted your hips and hit his prostate repeatedly and he kept coming.

“Enough… Please, mistress, it’s too much.” You took pity on him and stopped moving, taking the dildo out and kissing his back until his breathing came back to normal. “I guess I have to be bad more frequently,” he finally said, making you laugh so hard you almost fell off the bed.

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herlondonboy · 8 months

Text

arms tonite, clarisse la rue

summary: I cry in the afterlife I cry hard because I have died, and you're alive I try to escape afterlife I try hard to get back inside your arms alive VERY loosely based off of this request

warnings: mc death obviously, sad everyone, my lack of knowledge on the battle of manhattan because i read the books 7 years ago

wc: 1.7k

you sit against the ancient tree, the bark rough against your back, a painful reminder of the chaos that unfolded. your fingers clutch your stomach, the pain intensifying with each passing moment, a stark contrast to the distant roars of battle. your chest throbs where the drakon's claws had viciously slashed you moments ago.

the air is thick with tension as you watch your friends and family, armed and determined, engage in the fierce battle of manhattan. the clash of weapons, the echoes of spells, and the monstrous roars resonate through the air, creating a cacophony that drowns the world around you.

your gaze shifts from one familiar face to another, each caught in the chaos of combat. the weight of your injuries pales in comparison to the heaviness in your heart as you realise the magnitude of the conflict. the realisation that more lives are at stake than just your own sends a shiver down your spine.

tears blur your vision as you witness the sacrifices being made for the greater good. the ground beneath you trembles with the resonance of battle, a painful reminder of the fragile line between victory and defeat. you wipe away the tears, a silent vow to honour those who fight alongside you.

despite the searing pain and the exhaustion that threatens to consume you, you summon the strength to stand. your every step is a battle against your own limitations. as you move towards the frontline, determination replaces despair. the stakes are too high, and you refuse to let the sacrifices of those around you be in vain.

with each step, you feel the weight of responsibility on your shoulders. the tree, once a refuge, now seems like an anchor holding you back. but you press forward, driven by a desire to protect the ones you love.

the battlefield unfolds before you like a tapestry of chaos, but you find a rhythm within it. your own pain becomes a fuel, transforming into a relentless determination. you join the fight, your weapon cutting through the air as you face the challenges that threaten your world.

in the midst of battle, you catch glimpses of your friends, their resilience mirroring your own. the scars on your chest throb in sync with the beating heart of the battle, a constant reminder of the price of survival. yet, you fight on, not just for yourself, but for the future of those you hold dear.

the battle of manhattan rages on, a testament to the strength of the human spirit in the face of adversity. and as the dust settles, you stand amidst the fallen, a survivor, a witness to the sacrifices that define the heart of heroes.

locked in the chaos of battle, your eyes meet clarisse's across the tumultuous field. the concern etched on her face speaks volumes, a reflection of the scars left by the loss of silena beauregard. the memory of silena's sacrifice lingers, and clarisse fears history may repeat itself.

summoning every ounce of energy within you, you manage a reassuring smile for clarisse, a silent promise that you'll make it through. the connection between you two transcends the battlefield, a source of strength that fuels your determination.

as you let out a ferocious battle cry, it echoes through the turmoil, a proclamation of defiance against the forces that threaten your world. the resonance of your voice, joined by the battle cries of others, creates a symphony of resistance that shakes the very foundations of the battleground.

with renewed vigour, you charge back into the fray, your weapon slicing through the air as you engage with the enemies that stand before you. clarisse fights by your side, a formidable duo that refuses to be broken by the looming shadows of kronos.

the battlefield becomes a dance of blades and magic, each movement a calculated effort to turn the tides of war. your connection with clarisse strengthens your resolve, and together you weave through the chaos, fighting back the forces of darkness.

clarisse's concern transforms into determination as she witnesses your tenacity. the bond between you becomes a beacon of hope in the midst of despair. silena's sacrifice, though painful, serves as a reminder of the strength that arises from unity and love.

amidst the clash of weapons and the eruption of spells, you and clarisse carve a path forward. the battlefield is a canvas of struggle, but your shared commitment to each other becomes a driving force that propels you through the hardships.

as the battle unfolds, you find moments to lock eyes with clarisse, exchanging silent reassurances that you're still standing, that the darkness hasn't claimed you. the weight of her worry lessens with each shared glance, replaced by a growing confidence in your resilience.

the battle of manhattan rages on, but your bond with clarisse becomes a source of inspiration for those around you. the echoes of your battle cry reverberate through the hearts of allies, spurring them on to face the challenges that lie ahead. together, you fight not just for survival but for a future where love triumphs over the shadows that threaten to engulf the world.

tears stream down your face, mixing with the dirt and blood on your cheeks. the pain radiates through your body, each breath a struggle. clarisse's hands, stained with the battle's residue, continue to apply pressure to the wound, her movements desperate and unyielding.

"sorry," she mutters through her own sobs, her voice breaking with every apology. but despite the pain, you recognised the strength in her touch, the fierce determination to defy the cruel hand fate has dealt.

you wince as her hands press against the wound, the searing pain intensified by the pressure. your breath catches, and you find it harder to form words. finally, you manage to muster the strength to speak, "sto... stop!"

clarisse's hands fall to the side, and she looks at you with a mix of sorrow and regret. you can see the pain in her eyes as she watches you, helpless in the face of impending loss. "stop, please," you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible over the battlefield's cacophony.

she apologises again, her hands cradling your head as if trying to shield you from the cruel reality. you can feel her trembling, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. in this shared vulnerability, the world around you seems to fade, leaving only the raw, painful connection between two souls entwined by love and loss.

as the battle continues to rage, clarisse stays by your side, her gaze fixed on your face. the chaos unfolds around you, a stark contrast to the stillness of this intimate, heartbreaking moment. in the hushed pauses between your sobs, you confess the fear that grips your heart, the terror of facing the unknown, of losing everything you hold dear.

"clarisse, i’m scared," you admit, your voice a fragile whisper.

clarisse's eyes well up with tears, but she brushes them away with the back of her hand. "you're not going anywhere," she insists, though the lie hangs heavy in the air, a bittersweet attempt to offer comfort in the face of inevitable tragedy.

the battlefield's rhythm continues, a cruel reminder of life's relentless march forward. you feel the grip of mortality tightening, each breath becoming shallower. clarisse leans in, her forehead touching yours, a final act of closeness in the fleeting moments that remain.

in the quiet between the clashes of war, your final breath escapes you. clarisse's hands still cradle your head, her eyes closed, as if trying to hold onto the fragile threads of your presence. the battlefield's chaos, now distant, becomes the backdrop to a heartbreaking silence.

clarisse stays there, lost in a mix of grief and disbelief. the world around her continues to turn, but in that stillness, she remains with you, holding onto the memory of love and loss amidst the echoes of battle.

clarisse, fueled by the searing pain of your loss, rises from the ground, her eyes reflecting the torment that lingers within. the battlefield, now stained with the blood of the fallen, becomes the canvas upon which she paints her grief and rage. without you to return to, her actions are untethered, reckless in the face of her newfound solitude.

she charges into the fray with a ferocity unmatched, each swing of her weapon cutting through the enemy lines. the air crackles with the energy of her relentless assault, a testament to the storm of emotions that rages within her. clarisse fights not only for victory but to drown out the haunting echoes of your final moments.

as she carves a path through the chaos, a determination burns in her eyes, a fire fueled by the memory of your courage. the world around her blurs, and she becomes a force of nature, unyielding in her pursuit of justice. her every movement is a declaration that your sacrifice will not be in vain.

the battle rages on, and as percy confronts kronos, the culmination of their struggles unfolds. in the aftermath of percy's victory, clarisse stands amidst the wreckage, alive but changed. the victory is bittersweet, and the reality of a world without you sets in.

chris rodriguez, battle-weary and scarred, kneels beside clarisse. he sees the turmoil in her eyes, the weight of a heart burdened with grief and guilt. without a word, he offers her a silent comfort, a presence that understands the scars etched into the soul.

clarisse, attempting to remain stoic, fights against the torrent of emotions threatening to consume her. but as the battlefield falls into an uneasy silence, she crumbles. tears stream down her face, a torrent of pain and regret released in a torrential downpour.

"i couldn't do it," she chokes out between sobs. "the one thing i was born to do, and i couldn't protect them." the realisation of her perceived failure gnaws at her, leaving her vulnerable in the aftermath of the war.

chris, with a gentleness unexpected from a seasoned warrior, places a hand on her shoulder. he understands the depth of her grief, having faced his own demons. in the quiet aftermath, they share a moment of shared sorrow, acknowledging the harsh reality of a world that demands sacrifices, even from those who fight with everything they have.

as the first light of dawn breaks over the battlefield, clarisse rises from her emotional abyss, a survivor forged in the crucible of loss. the scars of battle may fade, but the wounds of the heart linger, a reminder that even in victory, the cost can be immeasurable.

you cried that night. because you died in the arms of your lover, and it couldn't have been more perfect.

#clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse my beloved #clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse pjo #elijah writes #lyric fic #angst #YIPPEE #please reblog

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chestersturniolo · 12 days

Text

𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

fratboy!chris x fem!reader

part six

All parts linked here

Warnings; none

••••••••••••

The next two weeks slipped by in a blur. You couldn’t bring yourself to attend classes; every time you even thought about it, anxiety washed over you. It felt easier to hibernate, to avoid the world and everyone in it, especially Chris. y/f/n had been bringing papers and notes from your classes to you so you didn’t fall behind.

You couldn’t stop thinking about how Chris had treated you. It was hard to reconcile the memory of the sweet, gentle guy you had spent that weekend with, laughing and talking late into the night, with the person he had become. It was as if he had completely transformed overnight.

The warmth of his smiles and the way he had looked at you made it difficult to understand how he could so easily dismiss you. The contrast between those moments of connection and the harsh words you’d overheard felt like whiplash.

You had been torturing yourself with what ifs.

what if i hadn’t gone upstairs with him?

what if i hadn’t ignored his reputation?

what if i didn’t lean in to kiss him?

what if i didn’t let him take my virginity?

what if i wasn’t so fucking naive?

Overhearing Chris felt like a confirmation of all the doubts you ignored in your mind. It was just another meaningless night for him. But for you it was everything.

One afternoon, you were hunched over a textbook, scribbling notes in a desperate attempt to catch up, when suddenly there was a pounding at your door. With a sigh, you dragged yourself up to answer it.

When you opened the door, there stood Chris, his eyes teary and bloodshot. Your heart raced at the sight of him, and your instinct was to slam the door shut right in his face. Just as you began to close it, he pressed his hand against the door, stopping it with a desperate urgency.

“Please, just let me talk” he pleaded, his voice shaky. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, and something in his demeanor made you hesitate.

“y/n I’m so sorry for how I treated you-” he continued, his words tumbling out. “-that night meant more to me than I ever expected. I started to feel things I don’t usually feel, and it scared me. I didn’t know how to handle it”

You stood there, unsure of how to feel as you stared back at him.

Chris took a deep breath, his voice trembling as he continued. “I know I messed up. I was trying to play it cool in front of my friends, but I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I didn’t realize how much I liked being with you until after it was over-“

He ran a hand through his messy hair before stepping closer, his expression desperate.

“I never wanted to hurt you, and I can’t stand the thought of you thinking I don’t care. You mean more to me than I let on, and I’m so fucking sorry” he rambles, voice cracking

He paused, searching your eyes for any sign of understanding.

“Please, forgive me?”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N; anddd that’s all (for now👀) , what possessed me to write that many parts and post them all at once i DO not know but it made sense to if im showing the request that gives away the story line ya know? had to be done✨ thankyou for readinggg loves!!!

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

tysm @monroesturnns for the request ilysm!!

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#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo angst #fratboy!chris #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo smut #sturniolo #chris sturiolo fanfic

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sssammich · 6 months

Text

fic: let there be another day

inspired by this fantastically angsty gifset of a supercorp AU. happy supercorp sunday yall

thanks x

---

The days transform steadily, selfishly, into weeks. Until the weeks have amounted to six months of nothing. Nothing between them but a phantom line of what they’d been to each other, once upon a time.

There is a crater in Lena’s heart, a botched excavation of the way she’d willed herself to forget Kara, to protect the two of them from the ruthlessness of her family. So she’d cored herself first, hoping to beat her brother and mother to the punch. Yet Kara had dug herself further into her heart, straight into her marrow.

So she failed, in the end, to rid herself of the woman she’d loved with her whole being.

But it’s gotten easier, in a way, existing in this reality where she had to deny herself the chance for happiness if it meant her happiness could live.

Her family has continued to terrorize her, but she’s acclimated. Expected it, really. Their efforts of trying to eliminate the few people who have been able to reach the fortress of her heart have now since changed to recruiting her into the fold of the family business.

She now only functions to keep L-Corp as an entity of good despite her family’s best attempts at compromising her work. It’s fine, because she has accepted that her work will be her life. Her love—her grief—has become the shape of late nights in front of her computer, of half-filled decanters as she oversees expense reports, of dry-cleaned power suits and a lethal red lipstick as armor worn in superfluous business meetings.

It’s worth it, she reasons, when she catches sight of Supergirl zooming past her window to save the day once more.

—

Lena should have known that Lex and Lillian are simply biding their time until they strike. The last couple of months of relative quiet was not a sign of reprieve. So when the glass of her office doors break and splinter into tiny crystalline pieces, her heart aches not in fear, but in disappointment.

She’s never had a death wish and would never wish this hurt upon herself, but the amount of threats to her life has surpassed her age. She thinks that maybe if both Lex and Lillian simply just got it over with, that she can get some goddamn rest. But she knows why she fights and why she keeps going. If only to spite her family, if only so that her sacrifice isn’t in vain.

Another explosion erupts and throws Lena partway across her office, her head hitting the corner of her desk with a thud. She opens her eyes and her vision blurs, her head throbbing with pain, her body tense and sore all at once. Distantly, she can hear the fire alarm go off just as the sprinklers start shooting off water and flooding her office.

She attempts to stand and find an exit, but her body betrays her intentions, buckling under her weight as she’s sprayed with water all around her. She falls onto her knees and subjects herself to crawling towards the exit with only but reckless determination and an almost-extinguished hope that she will make it out of this alive.

Before she can take another step forward, there’s a whooshing sound that fills her already ringing ears and suddenly, warmth envelopes her.

She sighs in resignation and gratitude when she feels the familiar weight around her. Lena knows before she opens her eyes what has engulfed her so safely, so securely. It cuts her heart just as it heals it, and she is in a loop of pain and joy.

She wants to open her eyes, truly, to look into ocean eyes and a field of golden grass. But she is in pain and she is hurting. Her only course of action is to keep her eyes closed as strong arms grab hold of her—gently, always so gently—and whisks her out of her now compromised and ruined office.

—

When she comes to, she finds herself in a secluded and private examination room of the National City Hospital, discretion of the highest priority as a prominent public figure. It’s one she’s been in before, from a past attempt at her life. It’s almost something like a comfort, this familiar space that has seen her bruises, cuts, and scrapes.

The door swings open and she hears Kara behind her begin to make her exit. She doesn’t look up but when she catches sight of the red cape just by the bed, she holds up a hand and stops the movement altogether.

She only lets go when the doctor looks down from her clipboard and settles on the rolling stool, the creak of the leather as she rolls closer to Lena.

She allows the doctor to do what she does best, intently listening to the sound of the squeaking stool and the crinkling of the paper of the examination bed as doctor works.

A mild concussion, some cuts and bruises. It could have been worse, she’s told. It always could have been worse and she wants to yell at Dr. Shapiro that this feels pretty close to the worst. Still, she listens carefully as her doctor explains how fortunate she is for surviving after the second and third explosions completely decimating her office.

“Third explosion?” she asks, this information brand new to her.

“Mm,” the doctor hums. “The second blast was the reason for your concussion, but according to reports, the third blast was close to you and would have knocked you prone and done serious damage had you not found cover.”

Lena tries very hard not to twist her aching body and look over her shoulder.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

The doctor looks at her meaningfully before glancing over Lena’s right shoulder and placing a hand on hers, squeezing, and then letting go.

The door closes with a quiet click, but instead of an exhaled deep breath, she holds herself tense. She shuts her eyes and listens to the way the superhero makes just enough noise so Lena knows where she is. First, from the chair she’d been occupying, then the sound of boots against the linoleum flooring, then the swish of the cape as it catches against the corner of the examination bed and back down again.

“Where can I take you?”

She opens her eyes to the setting sun, to saltwater ocean, to a small smile she hasn’t allowed herself to witness in six months.

She doesn’t know what’s safest, what her family is planning, what the total damage is. She needs her phone, she needs access to her company, she needs—

“Can I go with you?” is what she says.

Kara studies her, like the horizon staring back, and nods. She opens her hand, the thumb loop of her suit wrapping around her palm, and offers it to Lena.

She takes it, sliding her unsteady hand in place and breathes when Kara clasps their hands together.

—

Kara’s apartment smells the exact same.

She does not comment on this, though it’s the most prevalent thought in her mind. Kara lets her walk in first, speeding to the lamps and switching them on until the apartment is bathed in faint golden light. Fitting.

“Get cleaned up. I’ll have some spare clothes for you right outside the bathroom.” Kara passes her a towel, and she hugs it to her chest.

The water scalds her skin, stings the open scratches and cuts. And she revels in it, her alabaster skin reddening under the downpour of it. She savors it until the shower sputters a little and the hot water becomes tepid then becomes cold. She squeals and jumps away, hitting herself against the side of the shower stall and knocking half of the soaps and hair products off the shelf.

Kara is there in an instant, opening the door and getting soaked herself, trying to protect her.

Naked and broken, she looks up to the setting sun that is Kara’s concerned face, and then she starts laughing.

“I—the hot water ran out.”

Kara exhales, that cold water matting down her hair on her forehead as she protects Lena from the downpour. “Sorry, I never did call the landlord about it.”

She turns off the water behind her and steps out of the shower stall to pick up Lena’s towel for her. She opens the towel and turns away.

You’ve seen it all before, she wants to say, but doesn’t. Instead, she takes the towel and wraps it around herself, the cold beads of water from her hair clinging to her neck, her shoulder blades.

Kara steps aside, offers her a shy smile, and leaves wordlessly. Lena listens to the way she walks around the apartment, the clattering of the plates on the table.

She steps out and smiles when she finds spare clothes placed on a stool right outside the bathroom door.

When she next steps out of the bathroom, she is wearing Kara’s oversized shirt with a faded cartoon drawing of National City State Fair on it and a spare set of her pajama pants that she didn’t realize she’d forgotten, she'd thought Kara would have gotten rid of.

The spread of Chinese food on the coffee table is modest, but familiar.

She takes a seat in the spot she once proclaimed as hers, and accepts the plate from Kara’s grasp. They eat in silence with only the sound of the television playing on in the background.

Kara watches her—studying her, Lena’s sure—but doesn’t say anything. She talks about her week because Lena had asked, and so she gives it to Lena. They clear their plates, then she trails after Kara to the kitchen, parking herself on the kitchen island. Kara seems to anticipate her and passes a pint of Cherry Garcia towards her with a spoon on the lid.

“Good for concussions, I heard,” Kara offers, a twitch of a smile on her lips.

She laughs at that, surprised, but accepts the ice cream, opening the lid and taking a spoonful. “That’s tonsillitis.”

Kara shrugs but takes a spoonful of her own Rocky Road on the opposite side of the kitchen island. So much of right now exists superimposed to how things had been before, how their lives had been so entwined, so integrated. It is unnerving as it is comforting, and Lena accepts that for today, at least, she has to accept the disorientation.

Eventually, “here. I charged your phone. I’d call Sam first, then Jess.”

There is distance between them, far greater than the kitchen island in front of her, and it shows itself for the first time now, here. After everything.

“Kara, I—”

“I need to fill Alex in on everything. Let her know you’re alright. I’ll be right outside.”

She nods, glances at her phone and the laptop that Kara slides across the kitchen island, and watches as Kara walks out the front door.

For a solid hour, she works through everything she can considering her mild concussion. She touches base with her assistant, with her team, and finds that they have taken care of everything for her. She sighs in relief, shuddering into her hands when Sam and Jess let her know that they have everything handled, that all they want for her is to rest, that the investigation into her family’s attempt at assassinating her might finally have some legs with some information they’d discovered during the cleanup.

She sighs, sniffling into the back of her hand and tells them goodnight before she closes her phone and sobs into her hands, the day finally wearing her down.

She doesn’t startle when arms wrap around her, the press of a strong body kneeling in front of her as she cries into the crook of Kara’s neck. She grabs fistfuls of Kara’s shirt as her tears soak through the cotton.

Kara only holds onto her, rubbing her back and gently cradling Lena in her arms. Soft shushing filters through Lena’s ears and she sobs further into Kara, hoping Kara can just absorb her entirely, as if that’s the only thing that can protect her—from her family, from the world, from herself.

Her sobs lasts and lasts, a never ending fountain of all the tears she’d shoved back in, a dam bursting now that she’s allowed herself.

—

Kara carries her to the bed, quietly ushering her under the covers just as she sits on the edge of it.

“You saved me,” she says, her voice coming out slightly congested.

Kara brushes her hair behind her ear. “That promise has never changed.”

“They’re never going to stop, are they?”

Kara shakes her head.

“I thought by letting you g—” she huffs, turns away. “I thought I was protecting you. I was trying to do the right thing.”

Kara grabs hold of her hand and places it on her lap, her fingers fiddling with Lena’s palm, but doesn’t quite look at her.

“I’m afraid that the only times I will see you, I’m trying to save your life. And I—it worsens when I think that I can’t make it.”

Lena watches Kara’s beautiful profile, the expanse of her forehead, the slope of her nose into the curves of her lips and down her jutting chin, trembling slightly in the faint light outside the bedroom curtain. Then she sees the bob of Kara’s throat, a single tear falling into the center of her palm.

Kara’s facing her now, and Lena brings up her other hand to wipe Kara’s cheek.

“I missed you, Lena. And I don’t know what I will do if I can’t make it to you in time, I—”

This time, it’s Lena who pulls her close, wrapping the arm that Kara’s been focusing on around her front as she cradles Kara in her arms. “I’m sorry, darling,” she says, voice hoarse. “I’m sorry.”

Kara then turns in her arms and they embrace one another, both hiding in each other.

The tears stain and soak her neck, but she lets it, welcoming Kara’s weight after months of being so untethered.

“Please, just come back to me,” Kara says into her skin, muffled words that hold so much promise. “Let me take care of you. Let me protect you,”

Lena pulls back slightly. “You’d still—you’d still want me?”

“Let me love you again, Lena.”

Unable to hold her own tears back, Lena pushes forward until their lips meet. She angles her head and Kara kisses her back, the pair of them holding each other.

There is an ache to their reunion, but there is healing, too. And Lena remembers, unbidden, Dr. Shapiro’s words. It could have been worse, she’d heard.

But Lena wants it to be better. She deserves at least that, for all of her troubles, and if her family will aim for her and all that she loves, then she can’t hide herself in the shadows.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I love you.”

Tomorrow, she thinks, after the whispered declarations and the promises of more, of better, of a new day. Together.

“I’m here. I’m here. I love you, too. I’m here.”

#samfic #supercorp #inspired by a gifset #i'll post this on ao3 at some point i don't have time for now #anyway please enjoy #kara danvers #lena luthor #kara x lena #karlena #supercorp sunday #god this is riddled with mistakes #i fixed most of them now #god will i ever write the things im supposed to #listen listen i promise i'm working #ok love u bye

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sinkovia · 8 months

Text

Polaroids

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Angst, mention of suicide, mention of death.

Underneath the winter sky, the world transformed into a pristine landscape of snow-covered fields and frost-kissed trees. You and Simon found yourselves amidst this winter wonderland, bundled up against the chill, ready to capture a moment frozen in time.

With the camera in your hand, you pulled Simon close, wrapping your arm around him as you both huddled together for a picture. There was anticipation in the air as you counted down. "Three!" you exclaimed, and just as the flash burst into life, Simon seized the opportunity. A mischievous grin played on his lips as he swiftly smashed a snowball onto your head right at the moment the picture was taken.

"Simon!" a mix of laughter and surprise in your voice. Your hair was dusted with snow, and you looked at him with mock indignation, but the gleam in your eyes hinted at joy. Simon, with a mischievous grin, reveled in the success of his snow assault.

The snowball ambush marked the beginning of a delightful chaos. Laughter echoed through the winter air as you both dodged, ducked, and retaliated with fluffy ammunition. The pristine landscape transformed into a battleground, each throw leaving its mark on the snowy canvas.

As you dodged and weaved, Simon's infectious laughter filled the air, his playful spirit contagious. Eventually, he closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. You felt a mischievous glint in his eyes, and before you could react, he playfully brought you down into the soft snow. The cold powder cushioned the fall, and you found yourself rolling together, laughter bubbling up between you.

In the midst of the snowy tussle, the world around you blurred into a playful dance of white. The winter air was filled with the sounds of your laughter and the soft crunch of snow.

Eventually, the playful roll came to a gentle stop, leaving you on top of Simon. Amidst the falling glistening snowflakes, you looked into each other's eyes, the two of you catching your breath between fits of laughter.

As your laughter gradually faded into a contented quiet, you leaned down, your smile lingering, and pressed your lips to his in a soft kiss. The softness of the snow beneath you mirrored the tenderness of the stolen moment, and the world seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you in your snowy sanctuary.

In the midst of this tender exchange, a soft click resonated. You turned your gaze to the right, where Simon held up the camera, capturing another candid moment, immortalizing the post-snowball fight kiss.

Taking the polaroid, you began to huff warm air onto it, warding off the haziness that the cold weather threatened to impose. Squinting at the image, a frown creased your features.

"What's wrong, love?"

"My face is all hazy, damn cold weather."

"Let me see." you turned the photo over so he could examine it with squinted eyes.

"Hmm, only a little, but why would I look at a picture when I'll always have you next to me?" Shaking your head, you kissed him again. "For memories, Si."

Those words echoed in Simon's mind as he held the Polaroid in his hand, sitting alone on a bench. The serene snowy landscape looked dull and gray without you. It had been a year since you passed, your life cut short by a drunk driver hitting the passenger side of the car. The memory of that tragic day haunted him, and the Polaroid served as a bittersweet reminder of the love and laughter that once filled his life.

In the quiet solitude, Simon vividly recalled the moment he turned to look at you in the passenger seat. Laughter filled the car as you both shared a moment over an awful joke. He just wanted another glimpse of you laughing, savoring the way you closed your eyes and held a hand to your stomach in pure joy. Your radiant smile, the tears in your eyes—he longed to see your radiance, a sight he had always cherished.

Then came the headlights on the other side of the passenger window. Panic set in, and Simon tried to react, to steer away, anything to shield you from the impending danger. But it was too late. The impact sent the car flipping several times before landing upright. Simon, initially dazed, was jolted into awareness by the sound of your labored attempts to breathe, a shard of glass embedded on the left side of your neck.

You turned to look at him, tears streaming down your face. Pure desperation filled his gaze as he swiftly unbuckled his seatbelt, reaching over to hold your neck in an attempt to stop the blood spurting from your neck.

"S…si…" Your eyes conveyed agony as your choked attempts at breathing became more shallow.

"Shh, sweetheart, it's okay baby. You're gonna be okay, I promise." He spoke with a tremor in his voice, desperately denying the gravity of the situation when your hand fell limp from your neck, landing in your lap. He reassured himself that you were still alive.

"Help is coming, baby, I promise. Just hang in there, okay? For me, can you do that for me, baby?" His words were a desperate plea, and when he heard you stop trying to breathe, he continued to deny the reality, reassuring himself that you were still alive.

"Just breathe slow, sweetheart. Please, just breathe, baby. Please just—" When your head slumped against his shoulder, he felt his hands begin to shake, a lump forming in his throat that made it hard for him to speak.

"Y/n, baby, I need you to lift… I need you to lift your head up, baby. I can't… I can't." He choked out a sob as his hands slowly moved away from your neck. He started heaving in breaths as he threw open the driver door and collapsed on the ground. His chest tightened, and his heart raced a million miles per hour. He couldn't bear to see your lifeless body. He clawed at his chest as a sharp pain tore through.

He was having a heart attack.

The paramedics arrived just in time to tend to Simon, nearly saving his life, a fact he later cursed them for. Why couldn't they just let him follow you into the afterlife?

Staring at the two Polaroids in his hand, he longed to go back to that day. Back to a time when everything that reminded him of you didn't cause insurmountable pain, a time when he still felt warmth—a time when you were still alive.

Despite the accident not being his fault, Simon carried the burden of self-blame, haunted by the regret of not noticing the oncoming car. The echoes of that fateful day lingered, casting a shadow over the stark winter scene surrounding him. Rising from the bench, he walked back to the house you once shared—a place you had made a home.

In the hallway, he stopped and looked at the framed photo of both of you, taken on your first date. You insisted on framing it, and he softly smiled, almost hearing your voice echo through the walls of the house.

He continued walking until he reached the edge of the bed, where he sat down and pulled out his phone, dialing 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

“I heard gunshots at my neighbor's house, the address is 1311 Amberville Rd,” he reported stoically before hanging up and reaching for the metal box under his side of the bed. Slowly opening it, he revealed a pistol.

He tried his best to carry on, to honor the memories you had together, to keep you alive through the love in his heart. However, the weight of living without you became unbearable. Tired of waking up each day without you by his side, exhausted from the relentless nightmares that plagued him.

He was simply tired of experiencing life without you.

He took the gun from the box, raising it to his temple. Without hesitating he pulled the trigger.

His eyes flew open, and he quickly sat up in bed, confusion clouding his gaze as he realized it looked just like your shared home. The surroundings appeared brighter, more vivid than before. Slowly getting up, he walked through the hallway, glancing at the framed picture on the wall before searching the entire house, only to find it empty. Opening the front door, he stepped outside, the soft crunch of snow under his shoes echoing with each step. The snow seemed to stretch out for miles, and trees covered in a thin layer of snow surrounded the yard.

Furrowing his brows at the unfamiliar scene, he noticed it was odd—they never had trees in their front yard. He remembered your dream of having big oak and willow trees. He smiled when he remembered the small pout you made when he told you that trees take years to grow full size.

Suddenly, a snowball crashed onto the side of his head. He heard your laughter and turned wide-eyed to see you running up, tackling him to the soft snowy ground. Rolling with you until he stopped, you ended up on top of him. He looked up at you in disbelief, tears welling in his eyes. Cupping your face with shaky hands, he questioned if it was too good to be true. Was he dreaming again? No, this felt too real. You felt too real.

“Y/n?” You smiled and gently pressed your lips to his.

“You came too early, Si.” He shook his head, his eyes bouncing all over your features. “I didn't come soon enough. I'm sorry I kept you waiting, love.” You smiled as you gazed down at him, your heart swelling. He combed his fingers through your hair.

“I missed you so much, sweetheart.” You nestled your head in the crook of his neck. He took in a deep breath, your scent filling him with warmth. “I missed you too, Si.”

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