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risuola · 16 days ago

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FEELIN' LUCKY || GETO SUGURU

Suguru has a reputation of a playboy — and rightfully so. He likes to change girls, bedding them as he pleases. He thinks he can have them all. He's a player, a red flag and you show him he's wrong. It's a story about a boy who has everything but craves to have you.

contains: frat boy!suguru x nerdy!reader, pining, maybe a little slowburn-ish, flirting, smut (unprotected sex, some body worship, mentions of hooking up, booty calls, sexting), wc. 9420 ⋯ reader discretion is advised

kinktober '24 masterlist || art in the header: @/chu-cho on tumblr

Suguru knows how to navigate around the campus. He’s tried all the shortcuts, been on all the parties, talked (and fought) with all the teachers. He’s known around — troublemaker, a frat boy, a heartbreaker. It’s no news to anyone that Suguru Geto is a red flag personified; a ladies’ man, playing with every beauty he deems worthy of attention. And he’s lucky too, girls tend to love him, all of them. After all, bad girls love bad boys and good girls, unfortunately, do too. He’s a flame that attracts all the moths, a sin that tempts and renders every heart helpless. He’s a siren song luring women towards their doom. The ultimate playboy, reveling in the attention he gets everywhere he shows up, soaking it up like a cat basking in the sun.

It’s unfair, he jokes sometimes, when he aims to add another notch to his bedpost. Unfair how easy it is for him to have what he wants, how all that meets his gaze is heart-eyes and flushed cheeks. But he likes it, he likes to take, he likes to be wanted and pick from the crowd. It boosts his ego. He is, after all, drop dead gorgeous. He is, truly, with his long, raven hair and purple glint to his eyes, all surrounded by an air of sexy danger coming from his piercings, his clothes and the way he acts.

“Who’s that?” He wonders, mind rushing through the extensive catalogue of female students he knows. “She’s new.” Clearly. He doesn’t know you yet.

You’re pretty, too pretty for him to let you go just like that. You came to the party at the frat house, but you don’t seem to fit right in. Maybe you’re a transfer student? Or a friend of someone? It doesn’t look like you’re someone’s girlfriend. A man that’s sane would not let you wander around such place alone. Not in that dress. You’re gorgeous, breathtaking. You make Suguru’s heart beat a little bit faster, his pulse quickening and he can hear it in his ears, a steady thump echoing over the sound of music. It’s excitement — something he has not felt in a long time.

His friends say something. He’s not listening, eyes laser focused on you and only you. You move with grace, your hips sway from side to side like a pendulum as you find your way through the crowded living room. Your cup is empty, it’s clear from the way you tap it with your fingernail every time someone tries to stop you — you’re pointing on it, gesturing your intentions as you try to speak over the loud music and blurring chatter. You seem polite too, the way you smile brightens the area. He likes how it reaches your eyes, how your nose scrunches a little and the skin near your temples crinkle. Everything about you is hypnotizing, you know what you’re doing. You have to know what you’re doing. You’re magnetic and he wouldn’t be able to resist even if he wanted to.

He doesn’t.

You push through the crowd and Suguru follows, a predator stalking its prey. You are, after all, like a sweet little rabbit tonight. His eyes never leave your back, watching the way your hair sways and bounces with each step you take, how the fabric of your dress hugs your delectable curves. You look soft, he’d love to touch you, to squeeze those plush thighs, to feel the pliable flesh of your rear, to have your chest squeezed against the hard planes of his muscular torso. He wonders how soft your skin is under the fabric, if it’s smooth and warm to touch. He wants to find out, to explore every inch of it until he maps out every mole, scar and birthmark. He licks his lips subconsciously, his tongue swiping over the piercing in his lower lip and he wonders if you’d like it — if the cold metal decorating his mouth would be something you’re into.

He catches you in the kitchen. You’re holding a can of strawberry flavored soda and looking around, and he knows what you’re searching for. “Hey there, beautiful,” he greets smoothly, flashing you a smile that’s known for making girls weak in the knees. “Allow me,” he reaches, taking the cold metal from your hands — his fingers brush against yours as your eyes met, the touch lingering a little longer than necessary but he’s content as he swiftly opens the can for you, earning himself a chuckle.

He’s already got you.

“Thank you,” you smile, taking the drink back and filling your cup with the pinkish liquid. It smells sweet, the delicate aroma of artificial fruit breaking through the typical mixture of sweat and alcohol that fills the room. It’s refreshing, the scent, the look of bubbles dancing at the edges of your cup. You take a sip, tasting the flavor on your tongue and he wants to try it too. From your lips, preferably. Those glistening, cherry-colored lips. Oh, you look delectable.

“I’m Suguru,” he grins again, his eyes scanning your breathtaking features and committing the picture to memory. “I don’t think we’ve met before.” He already envisions you below him.

“I doubt that too,” you nod and you know he’s attracted to you. It’s clear from the way he looks at you, eats you with his eyes only. Obvious from how his gaze lingers on your lips a little longer than he should but you allow him. You introduce himself too and he repeats, testing the name on his tongue.

“What brings a gorgeous woman like you to our little shindig?” He extends his hand out to shake yours, his thumb brushing over your delicate skin as his touch lingers.

“I got invited by one of my friends but I can’t seem to find her in this crowd. I’m sure she’s having fun somewhere though, it’s alright,” you explain, briefly looking over the students crowded in the main area of the house. Most of them are drunk already despite the quite early hour but you don’t mind it. A frat party is exactly what you expected it to be. “I wouldn’t honestly dare to call this a little shindig.”

Suguru chuckles lowly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Well, I suppose ‘little’ was an understatement,” he grins and sips on his own drink. “How do you like it so far? Do you enjoy the mingling masses and blasting music or maybe I could steal you away? My room is just upstairs.” His eyes flick down to your lips once more before meeting your gaze again, a hint of mischief dancing in their violet depths. One step closer and he’s invading your personal space just slightly. “Because I could show you a good time, if you’d like. Just the two of us, away from all that noise and chaos,” he finishes a little quieter, a little lower. His tone is meant to seduce, to tempt you and he knows it always works. In his mind, he’s already alone with you, he imagines tracing your curves as he trails kisses along your jawline. His touch feels electric against your skin and you have to give him that — he sure does know how to get the attention he wants.

“I appreciate the offer, but I came here for the noise and the chaos,” you reply, smiling as your hand finds his wrist in a gentle caress meant to put some distance between his fingertips and your skin. “It’s not every day I get to attend a party such as this one,” that said, you’re ready to retract when his free hand meets the curve of your hip. You hear a hum and he’s suddenly much closer, you feel his breath on your lips, a mixture of mint and something strongly alcoholic. A little sweet too. A coke, maybe. There’s warmth bouncing off of him, one that you feel tingling on your skin when he leans down to meet your height. The tip of his nose teases yours before it moves to the side, running over the lines of your cheekbone.

“Are you sure?” He asks, smirking as he waits for your resolve to crumble. Not a single girl before you had resisted his charms and you surely are not going to be the first. He enjoys the challenge you present. Most girls would have melted under his touch but you remain composed. He likes that. He likes a woman who knows what she wants. “We could make our own noise, create our own chaos.”

“I’m content with all that’s happening here,” you hum, slipping out of his embrace. “Thank you for the company, Suguru. It was nice to meet you,” and you’re gone.

He stands there, dumbfounded. He stands there, once more looking at your back and he cannot believe what happened. A bunny that slipped from the hands of a wolf, girl that rejected Suguru’s charms, A moth that said no to the flames of his lust. A challenge he’s not going to pass on.

He smirks.

Before, he just wanted to have you.

Now, he has to have you.

And he will do whatever it takes.

Over the next weeks, Suguru has not given up. He hasn’t been able to get you out of his head, his interest in you hasn’t diminished; if anything, it’s grown stronger with each passing day. He’s determined to unravel the enigma that is you, to uncover the secrets hidden behind your captivating eyes and sweet smile. There’s something about you that made him desperate. A mystery he cannot quite unravel, a puzzle he can’t solve. And he thinks of you. He finds himself lost in thoughts of you more often than he’d care to admit. He spots you around campus occasionally, always looking effortlessly stunning and each time, he feels that familiar pull, that undeniable attraction that draws him to you.

Maybe it’s him, who’s the moth.

He doesn’t like this. How you always brush his advances off, how sweetly you smile while doing so. Every time he wants to touch you, you slip right through his fingers. You have tainted him with longing he has never felt before, you ruined him. He doesn’t want other women anymore, the line of booty-calls and flings blocked and removed from his phone. The nights he spends thinking of you, fucking his fist and swearing to all gods above and below to change, asking for a chance to sink his teeth into you. Because he doesn’t want anyone else. And he doesn’t know what you have done to him.

“Fancy seeing you there,” he remarks, settling himself beside you on the bench outside the library. The afternoon is particularly sunny, warmth caressing your skin as you sit comfortably, engrossed in a book. “Mind if I join you?” He asks, but he doesn’t wait for the response, as he leans over to glance at the title of your read. “Ah, philosophy. A deep thinker, huh? I like that.”

“Do you?” You ask, nudging a bookmark between the pages. “You don’t strike me as a philosophical type. You seem to me more of a live-in-the-moment kinda guy.”

He chuckles. “You’d be surprised,” he replies, his tone light and teasing, “there’s more to me than just good looks and undeniable charm. Although, I won’t deny that those are pretty great assets,” he winks playfully. Suguru leans back on the bench, stretching his long legs out in front of him. The ripped, black denim exposes a bit of his thigh, the ink of his tattoos peeking through the dark threads, drawing your attention.

“Oh, the confidence. It’s much more valuable trait than the outside looks,” you hum, leaning against the backrest too.

Geto laughs, a rich, warm sound that carries easily in the quiet outdoor setting. Then, he turns to face you fully, his expression turning serious for a moment. “But you’re right, I’m not usually one for heavy books and deep discussions. I prefer to keep things light and fun.” It’s a confession, he admits to it with a hint of vulnerability that’s quickly pushed behind his typical grin. “Besides, a guy can learn a thing or two from a smart, beautiful woman like yourself.” He flirts, but there’s an underlying sincerity to his words. He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Tell me, what’s so captivating about this particular tome? What insights does it hold to have captured your attention so thoroughly?”

“It’s a tale of a man discovering what really matters in modern life, a story of loss and reconciliation. The narrator, whose days are counted due to sudden diagnosis, meets the Devil who offers him an extra day of life in exchange of making one thing in the world disappear,” you explain briefly and he watches your fingers dancing over the front cover of the book, tracing the lines of the simple graphic of a cat. “There comes the question, how do you separate out what you can do without from what you hold dear? I think it’s something we don’t pay much attention to in our lives because we have everything within reach, but what if something just�� disappeared? The narrator has to take responsibility for each one of his decisions. There’s no going back, there never will be, once a thing is gone, it’s gone.”

Suguru listens intently, his expression thoughtful as he absorbs your words. “That’s quite… It makes you think, doesn’t it?” He muses, nodding slowly. “It makes you wonder what you’d choose to erase if given a chance to live just a day longer.”

“The question of how to decide what’s okay to remove and what’s not is what makes me think the most,” you look up. The day is beautiful today, fluffy clouds travel sparsely over the azure blue sky, the sun warms your skin with its golden rays and the birds sing, hidden within the crowns of the nearby trees. You hear some chatter, somewhere from the distance where other students pass by, you hear the cars that honk impatiently as they stand in the traffic and you hear a dog barking. There’s a park not far away. “Some things that are insignificant to me might be the entire world to someone else.”

“So you think the burden of consequences might outweigh the price of life itself,” he notes, his eyes studying the lines of your profile. Your eyes, reflecting the blue of the sky, your cheeks flushed from the wind and sunrays. He thinks the color of your scarf makes your complexion looks brighter. “I don’t know if I would be capable of eradicating something from the world permanently. At first, I thought it might be easy, just get rid of something small and simple, but then it made me wonder if things I think are unimportant, truly are so.”

Truth is, Suguru doesn’t think he would dwell much about the topic if not you, but he wonders what if. What if he made a decision that would cause a war? Or someone else’s loss? What if a thing that he picks results in him not meeting you?

“That’s what philosophy does to you,” you chuckle, turning your gaze back to him, just to meet his eyes glued to yourself.

“But maybe that’s what makes life worth living,” he turns to you fully, his eyes wondering as he drops his usual playfulness and mischief. “It’s much easier to pretend we have control over our lives and the world around us rather than confront the harsh truth that we are all just tiny cogs in a vas, unpredictable machine. But maybe it’s the uncertainty, the constant surprises, the knowledge that anything can change in an instant what makes the journey worth the effort.”

“Maybe it is,” you nod, taking a moment to let his words sink in. “I wouldn’t expect you to engage in topics such as this. I apologize,” you offer a smile and he melts.

“You know, most people assume I’m just a pretty face. They don’t expect me to have substance beneath the surface,” he muses, his expression turning thoughtful before he lets out a breathy chuckle. “I guess I do give them the reasons to do so. But I really enjoy talking to you. It’s nice to have conversations that aren’t just surface-level flirting and innuendos. There’s just something about you...” He trails off, reaching out tentatively, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger against your skin for a moment before falling away. “I like how you challenge me, make me think deeper than I usually do. You are a puzzle I can’t wait to solve.” His gaze locks with yours, his expression open and vulnerable in a way you haven’t seen from him before. “Can I see you again? Like this, I mean. Just talking, getting to know each other better.”

The question hangs heavy in the air as you consider it. You will meet him again, one way or another, somewhere around the campus or at another frat party. You will see him again as he targets another girl, flirting his way into another pair of panties. And you exhale, your lips curving upwards slightly as you lean your head on your fist, elbow on your knee.

“Suguru,” you begin, his name slipping over your tongue with ease you enjoy. But you know better than this. You have seen it all too well how he treats women. “I enjoy conversing with you and if it’s just talk that you want from me, then I will find time to meet you again. But I need you to know that I will not allow myself to be another notch on your bedpost. It’s easy to get swayed by your charms, but I know your reputation and I know it for sure that if I had to give up one thing in the world, it would never be self-respect.”

And he knows for sure that if he had to give up romance for the rest of his life just to have you, he wouldn’t think twice about it.

“I don’t want to charm my way between your legs,” he swears, too quickly, too desperate to make himself believable and he groans, annoyed by his own self. He nervously runs his hand through his dark, raven hair. “Just, please, give me a chance. I won’t lie to your face and say that I’m suddenly ready to settle down or that I’m done sowing my wild oats entirely. I know what kind of reputation I have and I can’t deny that I’ve played the field more times than I can count. I’ve earned it fair and square,” he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness. All of the lustful nights flashed before his eyes, the nameless girls, the empty promises and unanswered calls afterwards. All the nudes, all the sexts, all the quickies in the locker rooms and dingy bathrooms. Suguru would give them all away if only earned a chance to be with you. “I want to change. I already started to change. You don’t have to believe me right away, but you are different. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew there was something special about you. And I won’t lie that I’m not attracted to you physically. That would be impossible. But there’s more to it than that. Something worth pursuing beyond just a one-night stand.”

“And what change are you talking about?” You quiz. “Because as far as I am concerned, I’ve seen you flirting with some girls just yesterday.”

And he winces, unable to deny your accusation. “You’re right, I did flirt with them. It’s become a second nature to me, a habit I can’t seem to break easily.” He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair once more, frustrated. “But it didn’t go further than talk. I didn’t… I’ve stopped sleeping around. I blocked and removed all the girls’ numbers from my phone, deleted the pictures I had. Fuck, I even declined an invitation for a party with my pals, for the first time since high school. Look,” he leans in, his eyes locked with yours and his hand finds yours. You feel his thumb rubbing soft circles on your knuckles and you wonder if it’s to soothe you or himself. “Being with you, talking to you… it’s opened my eyes to what I have been missing out on. I’ve spent so long chasing meaningless encounters, never allowing myself to form real connections with anyone and now, I’ve tasted something more substantial and realized just how hollow my previous pursuits have been. I want to do better. For you, yes, but also for myself. I want to prove to you that I’m capable of more than just cheap thrills and empty promises.”

It’s true, everything he says. He is ready to drop the player mask, to shed his frat repute just to have a chance at something real, something that makes his heart flutter in his chest and his stomach bubble with butterflies. He is ready to say no to easy sex just to fight for your attention, your touch, your heart.

He is genuine, but you just hum, your expression unreadable as you weigh your next words. You like him desperate. You like how his violet eyes sparkle with puppy-like vulnerability rather than a flirty mischief. And he is beautiful, you cannot deny it — a man of impressive built, clad in ripped jeans and leather, heavy boots and a band tee. He looks like he bites, and you know he does. You take in the sight of his piercings, the large gauges, the snake bites in his lower lip, the piercing across the bridge of his nose, right between his captivating eyes and the one right above his left brow. You wonder what kissing him would feel like. Would the metal come in the way? Or maybe it would add to the experience?

“I’m not sure what to tell you,” you sigh. “I will give you a chance if you think you can change. But you’ll need to prove it. Think about it.”

And he did.

The lonely nights he spends at the frat house, laying in bed instead of partying with his friends, he wonders where the path of his change will lead him. What if it’s him, confronting the devil and having a chance to lose himself just to earn a day with you? He thinks he’d take it. He’s sure he would. He flips on the mattress, his eyes squinting as the lights from his phone blinded him with a new message. An unknown number. He opens it, it’s a picture, a bare body that he recognizes by the butterfly tattoo on the ribcage. A nude from one of his exes. She must have gotten a new number because he remembers vividly how he blocked her. Usually, he wouldn’t think twice about it, he’d reply with something cheeky, possibly send an explicit picture of himself, maybe set up a meeting or invite her over. His fingers typed the message before his brain managed to intervene and once he hit ‘send’, he cursed out loud.

“Fuck, you idiot!”

A pillow flew across the room as he stared at the ceiling. Would it hurt to go once more with no strings attached? It’s been some time since he’s gotten laid and the vision of tension coming off of him was a temptation beyond measure. But what about you? What about a change he had promised?

Is the change even for him?

Suguru stares at his phone screen, the message he sent glowing mockingly back at him, a shameful reminder of his weak self-restraint. The girl already replied, they always reply so fast, and he doesn’t know what to do. He knows he fucked up, he knows he shouldn’t have responded. He shouldn’t have even entertained the idea of hooking up with his ex, or any other girl. It goes against everything he told you, everything he promised.

With a heavy sigh, he tosses his phone aside, despite the notifications flooding his inbox. More pictures, the location, the time — an annoying ding makes his blood boil and he groans, burying his face in his hands. He feels conflicted, torn between his desire for physical release and growing feelings for you. He wants to be better, to be the man you deserve, to be the man that deserves you. He wants to prove to you that he’s serious about changing, but old habits die hard. The temptation is still there, lurking in the shadows of his mind, waiting for a split second of vulnerability.

He tosses and turns in bed. His thoughts race with the pictures of you, his mind replaying every conversation, every shared laugh and stolen touch. He remembers the way your eyes sparkled when you discussed philosophy, the passion in your voice as you told him about the importance of self-respect. He realizes that those moments were more fulfilling than any other fleeting pleasure he’s experienced before.

But he gets up anyway, he pulls up his dark-washed jeans and a hoodie, socks and boots and he’s ready to go. With a jacket grabbed in the hallway and a phone in his hand, he leaves the house. The crisp air of near winter hits him the moment he steps outside, cooling the blood in his veins and clearing his thoughts.

12 unread messages.

He groans again, this time into the nightly silence as he strides through the pavement, legs leading him in the direction of his doom. Suguru slips the earphones in, plays on the music but the melody and lyrics are helpless against the chaos in his mind.

It’s pointless, to resist his own body. He knows it’s pointless, he knows he has control over his legs and deep down he knows he would reject the booty call if he truly wanted. You deserve a better man anyway, not a player that fucks around like it’s a sport. You deserve someone who would worship the ground you walk on, a man of culture and manners with whom you’d engage in long, deep conversations late in the evenings, not a man-boy who cannot control his own dick. But fuck, does he wants you.

He wants you so bad, he wants to be all those things for you. He wants those discussions about philosophy and life, he wants to kiss your knuckles and be the knight in the shining armor, carrying you in his arms and shielding you from the world and assholes such as himself.

He lights up the cigarette, taking a deep breath in and looking up. The night is pretty. Calm. He wonders if you are already sleeping. Or maybe it’s one of those nights that you pull in order to study and secure your grades. The semester just began but he learned it already that you care about your future more than he does about his own. You’re a little nerdy. He thinks it’s cute. He can imagine himself wrapping a blanket around your shoulders when it’s late and carrying you to bed when you’re falling asleep on top of the books and notes. You would fit perfectly in his arms.

“You fucking moron,” he slanders himself quietly, already seeing the motel in front of him. He shouldn’t be there but he moves forward anyway. He knows his ex is already waiting for him, he can tell by the lights in the room they always used to book for the casual encounters. He stops before he enters, giving the smoke few more moments to burn. He can feel it in his lungs, somehow calming as he checks his phone, scrolling through the notifications.

One of the messages is from you.

It’s innocent in the sea of suggestive texts. There’s an apology for the late hour and a book title that you promised to send him a day before. The one you’ve been reading for the last few days and the one that made him rethink his entire life’s choices. There’s not much substance in the message, but it shakes him awake.

The turn he takes is aggressive, it’s resolute. Heavy boots thudding against the concrete panels as he walks away from the motel. ‘Sorry, not coming.’ He sends the message and blocks the number, feeling lighter the second he removes the nude picture and the unwanted contact.

It takes just an hour before he knocks at your door, the dormitory silent in the nightly time so he keeps himself quiet. You open after a long moment, dressed in a make-shift pajama. He likes the way your hair is messy from the pillows, how you smell like vanilla and flowers and coffee. You look so pretty like this, so undone, so unexpecting yet not entirely disappointed to see him. You seem… content?

“Suguru?” His name comes from your mouth and you usher him inside, afraid of someone seeing him. Once the doors shut behind him, your eyes search him for answers.

“Brought you some food, I thought you might need it,” he grinned, showing off the box of pizza and a bottle of soda. “I figured you’re studying tonight and might need some fuel.”

“So thoughtful,” you tease, but the smile that shapes your mouth reaches your eyes, so he knows it’s genuine. He follows you to your bedroom and he’s not surprised seeing the notes all over your bed and scattered on the floor. The papers full of sparsely highlighted knowledge that you want to transfer into your brain take most of the space before you gather them onto a neat pile. He sits right there, on the newly uncovered spot on your mattress. It feels intimate, to be in your room, to rest on your bed, to see you in your pajama. He wonders if you know what the sight of your thighs does to him, the plush, tender flesh begging to be touched, kissed and kneaded. Suguru thinks your skin would look beautiful with bitemarks all over.

“So, pizza,” he clears his throat after letting his eyes linger for way too long on your bare legs. “I took pepperoni, I hope you like it.”

“It’s perfect,” you smile and separate the barely cut pieces for easier access. “I appreciate the thought, really. But there was no need for you to leave the house just to do this.”

“For you, I would do it at every hour,” he says and then sighs deeply. “But truth is, I didn’t plan this.” Suguru feels like he’s inside the confessional. It’s a foreign tension, completely different from the one he felt just hour before. The knot in his stomach has nothing to do with lust and desire and all to do with stress and regret. “I’ve received a booty-call from my ex. That’s why I left the house,” he spats it out quickly, thinking it’ll hurt less if he does it in rush. “I didn’t go there though. I told her I’m not coming, blocked the number and came here instead.”

You stay neutral, chewing on the pizza as your tired eyes size him up. “Old habits die hard, huh?” You mock, slightly amused by his tormented expression. His eyebrow creases before he lets himself drop back onto the mattress, a soft grunt escaping his mouth as he covers his face with his hands.

“I meant it. I want to change and I’m working on it.” He says, his voice quiet and devoid of his usual cheekiness. “I fucked up when I entertained the idea of hooking up with a random person tonight but cut me some slack, I didn’t do it.”

“Good boy,” you mock-praise and he groans again, but then his entire body tenses when you lay next to him. He feels your breath against his cheek, the tip of your nose prodding the flesh. He doesn’t move, too afraid to ruin the moment. “Do you regret it? Not going, I mean. Be honest, don’t say what I want to hear.”

“I don’t,” he replies, his tone resolute. “I don’t regret not meeting my ex and not having sex tonight. I was pent up — fuck me, I still am, and when I replied to her text, I didn’t think much about anything except for my dick. But I don’t regret not going because I didn’t want to go. And I’m grateful that you texted me because you reminded me what really is important. Right now, it’s you.”

It makes you smile. He’s torn inside of his mind but you take it as a win anyway. Before, Suguru wouldn’t second-guess pulling his pants down and now you made him think. Now, you made him reconsider; wonder who he is without the façade of the charismatic ladies’ man. He will have to learn to navigate social situations without relying solely on his charm and wit to get what he wants. But he can do this. For you.

Before he speaks again, you’re asleep already. Sideways on the bed, most likely uncomfortable but right next to him and he doesn’t dare to move a muscle in his body. You’re sleeping, your face just an inch from his own. The soft fragrance of your skin fills in his nostrils and not even the smell of pizza nearby can disturb it. There’s a hair somewhere around his face, he doesn’t know if it’s yours or his own, but it tickles his cheek every time you exhale. It’s fine.

An hour passes and he finally gathers the courage to shift, as carefully as he can, he turns to his side, to face you. You’re a vision he takes in with his eyes wide open, committing the picture of your peaceful expression to memory. He likes everything about you, every hair of your eyebrows, every freckle and beauty mark. He likes the way you look so unbothered, so comfortable next to him. He wants to touch you. Oh, how much he craves to caress your cheek, to thread his fingers through your hair. His heart thumps in his chest, reaching speeds matching those of sprinters. The feeling is foreign. Is this…? It cannot be. Suguru Geto is not about… that. His entire life he believed he’s meant to have fun, no strings attached, no responsibilities. What did you do to him?

You move and he stops breathing. It’s an instinct, he thinks, that you shift closer to him, but he tells himself you want that. And you fit so well against his chest, your head below his chin, your hand around his middle. The room spins and he wraps you in the embrace of his arms.

He feels your heartbeat, the gentle rise and fall of your breathing and suddenly, he calms down. It sinks into his mind that it’s where he wants to be. All the years of empty flings, the mediocre orgasms, the shameless pursuits could never compare to the feeling of you in his arms. That’s what he has been missing on. And he will do everything to be the man deserving of you.

Time passes, and Suguru slowly falls into the rhythm of his newfound resolve. It’s easy to decline hookup invitations when he can spend time with you, but maybe he did feel a little too confident when he decided to attend the big, annual party at the frat house. It’s Halloween, after all, how could he not go there when everyone will come? Quickly he falls into familiar routine of charms and alcohol, nursing a beer from a red plastic cup and chatting playfully with attractive attendees. His friends push him towards temptation, inviting more and more girls to the crowd and Suguru feels drawn to the lively atmosphere, the flirtatious banter comes as easy as breathing.

That is, before a pretty sophomore dressed in a devil costume takes a seat next to him — a seat he has kept for you, because you promised you’ll come, despite the need to study. It’s fine if the girl sits there for a moment or two, he thinks, as he engages in a conversation. He knows, it’s as obvious as day, that the second-year beauty is interested in getting into his pants — her hand on his thigh, the fluttering eyelashes and pouty lips say everything about her intentions. As the night progresses, he finds himself more and more… uncomfortable. Surprisingly.

And so, he feels relieved when he sees you in the crowd, late but looking absolutely adorable in your sweet bunny costume. It’s simple yet makes his pants grow tighter as he takes in the way the plain black dress hugs your curves. The fluffy tail bounces with each step you take through the filled living area and the long, pink-lined ears swing just slightly along with your hair whenever you move your head around, looking for something — for him and his heart skips a beat. In that moment, everything fades away — the raucous laughter, the pulsing music, even the sophomore girl next to him.

Excusing himself from company, he forces a smile as he brushes the invasive hand off his thigh and gets up from the sofa, making his way over to you. “Hey there, cutie,” he greets, pulling you into a hug and you melt into his chest in an instant. “Glad you could make it.” He breathes in your scent, letting it calm his nerves but it does little to calm other things down. Fuck, you look perfect.

“How could I miss my favorite frat boy sporting a vampire costume?” You quiz, backing up a little to take in his attire. He’s wearing all black, a dress shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, pants that make his legs look even longer than they are. His eyes are smudged with little bit of black eyeliner but it works for him, he looks sexy. “Aren’t you a pretty one. I might consider letting you bite me,” you tease, and he knows you’re joking but it doesn’t stop the blood in his body to travel downwards.

“Careful what you wish for, bunny,” he muses, “I might just take you up on that offer and sink my teeth into that delectable neck of yours.” His fingers intertwine with yours as he lifts your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before he leads your arm up onto his shoulder. “God, I missed you,” he murmurs as he lowers his head, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

He feels you chuckle, your nails scratching at his scalp as you thread your fingers through his dark locks. Once more you proved him that the change is worth it, because it’s you who’s on the line. “Dance with me?” He asks and you move with him towards the makeshift dancefloor.

Suguru pulls you closer as you enter the rhythm of the music, one hand resting on the small of your back while the other twirls you around gracefully. You’re giggling, amused by the undivided attention he pays you — he’s sweet when he has his eyes on the target, when he has to work for something. He dips you dramatically and your hand tighten on his shoulder, but it’s secure, the way he holds you as if he wished to protect you from all the bad in the world. His eyes lock with yours as he pulls you back up, flush against him. The heat radiating off both your bodies mingles together, creating an intoxicating aura that threatens to consume you whole.

You don’t really listen to what’s playing, a melody mellows in the background as his hands trace patterns along your sides and hips, follow the line of your spine, sometimes teasing the fluffy ball that is your tail. His touch ignites sparks wherever he grazes, leaving trails of fire in its wake. He’s hungry, for you, and you are too. It’s hard to deny it any longer and you think that maybe, just maybe he is ready to commit to something more than just a fleeting romance. It’s been months since he began pursuing you and his attention has been focused solely on you, despite the obstacles and temptations of his life. A reward wouldn’t hurt now, would it?

“I need a drink,” you tell him and he’s quick to react, taking your hand and leading the way towards the kitchen. He knows what you like, snatching a can of strawberry soda from the counter. When you nod in approval, he opens it, too hasty, too eager, that he doesn’t realize the way it bubbles over, spilling over the aluminum container and his fingers. Before he can react, your lips are already on his skin, licking away the sticky trail of pinkish liquid.

Suguru freezes as he feels your tongue glide across his skin, tasting the sweetness of the spilled soda. A shiver runs down his spine at the sensation, his breath hitching in his throat. Desire darkens his eyes, pupils dilate as he watches, transfixed, how you lick the sugary mess from his fingers. The sensation sends jolts of electricity coursing through his veins, pooling in the pit of his stomach. He breathes out your name, but you’re quick to shut him up.

You pull him down, your hand in his hair as you press your lips to his own. He tastes the strawberry sweetness of the soda on your tongue as it dances with his own, the flavor mixing deliciously with the taste of you. The dripping can is soon forgotten on the fake-marble countertop as he scoops you closer, arms wrapping around your waist securely. He can feel the heat of your body through the thin fabric of your costume, the softness of your curves molding perfectly against the hardness of his muscles. He’s eager, he moans lightly into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips. You feel the cold metal rubbing against your face, it’s interesting, it’s addicting. You like it.

“Always wanted to try that,” he pants out when for a moment you pull back. He chases your mouth, hungry for more, desperate.

“The soda?” You ask, pressing soft pecks to his pout.

“You.” He lounges forward once again, unsatiated and you don’t stop him. You don’t hear music anymore, all that’s rumbling in your ear is the sound of your heartbeat. You feel the heat in your veins, the flooding of ecstasy filling your cells one by one. There’s no space left between you, but you take a step forward anyway. You feel his hips rolling, a desperate cry for any sort of friction and when you slip your hand down, palming his groin through his pants, he groans into your mouth as his hips buck involuntarily into your touch. “Please,” he begs, eyes locking with yours as he leans his forehead against your own. He can feel himself throbbing beneath the confines of his pants, straining desperately for more of your attention. “You want me too, please tell me you do. I can’t… It hurts, I crave you so much, it hurts.”

“Let’s get out of here,” you murmur. “Your room is upstairs, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he breathes out. “But I won’t take you there. You deserve better than this place and my filthy bed. Let me take you to my apartment.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer and you follow him anyway, your hand incased in his large one, sticky from the spilled soda but none of you seem to care as you saunter through the dancing crowd of young people. Just to get outside.

The walk is a blur, you don’t remember much of it and so does Suguru. The night air is crisp, sending chills down your spine and the boy teases you about it, promising all the warmth he can produce in just few moments. You laugh with him, unbothered by the cool wind that tousles your hair. “It’s just around the corner,” he promises and you hum, matching his pace as he leads you through the neon-lit streets of Tokyo. The world blur into nothing, all you see is the man that holds your hand, the blue-ish hint to his hair whenever the lights fall on it just right, the sticky heat of his palm. You can still smell the faint strawberry aroma; you can definitely feel it on your tongue even though you didn’t manage to truly take a sip of it.

And you laugh again when he fumbles with the keys to his apartment. “Nervous?” You tease him playfully. “You have no idea,” he replies, smiling sheepishly and the entry finally swings open. He ushers you inside, kicking the door shut behind him and flicking the lights on.

Suguru wastes no time, pulling you flush against him once more as he presses you against the nearest wall, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. His hands roam your body greedily, mapping out every dip and curve, learning the shape of you and you do the same. He shrugs the jacket off and you’re quick to explore the broad lines of his shoulders, the hard muscles of his chest and stomach. You feel him everywhere, the hungry touch devouring every inch of your form. He breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down the column of your neck, sucking and biting the sensitive skin and you whimper breathily — the sound undeniably similar to his own name.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, guiding him lower as he reaches your chest. His kisses grow more wet and delicate as he meets the soft mounds of your breasts, tightly confined by the neckline of your dress. He breaths in your scent, an intoxicating mixture of sweet and floral. It makes his head spin, it’s addicting. He wants more.

It’s easy to slip the dress off of you — first the straps and then the garment goes down, inch by inch revealing the smooth expanse of your skin to his starved gaze. He drinks in the sight of you, his eyes roaming hungrily over the newly exposed flesh and in that moment he swears he has never seen a more beautiful woman in his entire life. His fingers skim along the edges of your bra, tracing the lace delicately before he leans in again, kissing your lips with softness that speaks more than any words could. He wants you, but he wants to worship you. He doesn’t want to make it all about lust and desire, he wants to make it about you and him. About whatever is this feeling that bubbles between you.

And so, he moves down slowly, lips mapping out the curve of your collarbone and down the path to your sternum. His hands follow your curves with gentleness he doesn’t recognize in himself. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his hot breath meeting the skin of your stomach, “just breathtaking,” he lowers himself to his knees — something he has never done in his entire life, used to have women at his feet.

“Suguru,” you breathe out but he doesn’t listen. Not when the skin of your thighs feels so soft against his cheeks, not when it tastes so delicious as he trails wet, open-mouthed kisses along the plush flesh. Your fingernails find a way into his hair and he dives between your legs, encouraging one of them to hook over his shoulder. He savors the scent of you, his nose rubbing against the fabric of your underwear, prodding at the little wet patch. He licks it, his tongue flattening over the cotton, catching a hint of your taste — and that’s enough to make him go crazy for you.

“Fuck, you’re so sweet,” he breathes out, every exhale that meets the wetness of your panties sends jolts of electricity up your spine and back down to your core. He presses his lips to where he thinks your clit is, you feel him sucking gently and it’s enough friction to feel yourself pulsating. You moan quietly, the sound escaping your parted lips easily as your hold on his hair tightens. There’s no denying that you want him just as much as he wants you. He’s desperate but so are you.

Your knee buckle as he continues the torture and he coos sweetly. “Let’s take you to bed, you sweet thing,” his tone is sugary, a melody dripping with honey as he smiles at you in a way that makes you blush. There’s adoration written all over his face, his cheeks are flushed, lips red and glistening. You want to follow him when he stands up, but he swoops you off your feet, carrying you bridal style towards the bedroom. It makes you giggle.

“Practicing already?” You muse and he just smiles.

“Perhaps.”

Your back meets the cold bedspread as he lays you down delicately. No time is wasted before he’s right above you, right on you — you feel the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress. No complains about it. He feels good, his hips rolling in a way that has his bulging erection grind along your panties. You hate the fabrics between you two, you hate how they make you feel less of him.

So you move your hands, slide them between your bodies, fumble with the buttons of his shirt. “Impatient much?” He teases, but helps you, pulling the shirt over his head, saving you trouble of the bottom fasteners. His lips find yours in a kiss that burns and you whimper into it, feeling the warmth spreading all over your body.

You reach down. Button, zipper. Your hands tremble as you push the fabric off his hips and he kicks it down. He helps himself with a hand and soon, his pants are on the ground, along with his socks and your bra, that you impatiently toss away. Suguru’s heart rumbles against his ribcage as he takes in the sight of your bare chest. It’s perfect, you are perfect and he cannot believe the luck he has — after years of chasing simple pleasures and meaningless peaks, he had finally found someone he wants to call his.

He feels your heart underneath his cheek as he leans down, inhaling the scent of your skin — his nose trails patterns over the soft flesh before he presses his lips to it, kissing his way towards one of your nipples. It pebbles beneath his touch, hardening as he latches onto it, sucking and teasing it with teeth, twirling his tongue all around. He matches his ministrations with his fingers, not letting the twin feel left out. Your taste is of pure heaven and the sounds that leave your mouth are ones of an angel.

There’s a patch of wet on his boxers, right where the throbbing head of his cock strains against the fabric — the precum oozing out as he grinds his hips against yours. It makes him insane how you reply with the roll of your own, to match his moves, to cause more of that delicious friction that sends both of you into a spiral of desire.

Unable to wait any longer, you hook your fingers at the waistband of his underwear, tugging it down and Suguru replies with the same — pulling the soaked cotton off of you. He wants to taste you, and he will, but not now. He reaches down, guiding the tip of his cock between the folds of your pussy, the head sliding with ease as your slick mixes with the pearly beads of semen. He loves the way your thighs tremble every time he glides over your sensitive clit, how your breath hitches and eyes close.

“Ready?” The question falls and you nod fervently, your hands finding his shoulders for balance. “Use your words, beautiful.”

“I’m ready,” you assure and then, your back arches off the mattress. He slides in inch by inch, stretching you, filling you so completely, making you go blind for a moment. The pain burns just faintly, losing its flames to the flooding of endorphins and pleasure. He goes in to the hilt, his body shuddering as he drops his head to the crook of your neck.

The feeling overwhelms him. The way your pussy grips him, like a vice that almost pulls him in more and more. It’s delightful. Ecstatic. It’s something he’s never experienced before. Is that what love feels like? He moves, slowly backing his hips until there’s nothing but a tip nestled inside you before he pushes forward again, knocking the air out of your lungs and his own too.

You paw at his arms, his back and chest. You want him closer, you want to feel all of him. Stars are clouding your vision, the world ceases to exist and there’s nothing else in it but you and the man on top of you. He feels so good, like he’s meant to be right there with you and Suguru feels the same. Like he found home, like he belongs there, in the warmth of your embrace, in the tightness of your walls. He loves the way you cling to him, the way your nails dig into his skin and your heels dig into his ass, urging him to go harder, faster. He complies, his hips snapping against yours as the wet sounds of your bodies colliding echo through the room, alongside your moans and gasps.

He changes the angle, shifting his hips to hit that spot inside you that makes the stars glitter before your eyes. He knows he’s found it when your back arches off the bed, your nails scoring down his back and a scream tears from your throat. He loves the sound, he loves the sight. He loves how you come undone, how beautifully blissed out your expression is, how your eyes lock with his even though you see nothing but haze. He grins, a smile lost against your skin as he continues pounding into you relentlessly, chasing his own high. He can feel it already, it threatens to consume him. His balls draw up tight, his heart races in his chest.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his groans and whimpers against your tender flesh as his hand grips your hip tightly. You match him thrust for thrust, nails leaving angry red marks in their wake. You feel the pleasure building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter until you feel you might explode. Your walls start to flutter around him to the rhythm of your heartbeat and the desire coursing through your veins.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Suguru gasps, his voice strained with exertion. He knows you’re close, it drives him insane. “I’m gonna—” He cuts himself off with a guttural moan as his climax hits him like a freight train. He follows you into the pit of pure delight, headfirst, no thoughts. Just pure, overwhelming bliss.

He collapses on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, as his hips buck forward few more times, riding out your highs with stuttered thrusts. You both lay there, panting and sweating, basking in the afterglow of passion. His softening cock slips out of you, followed by a gush of combined fluids but none of you worries about the mess, too blissed out to care about a thing.

“Wow,” he breathes, nuzzling his face into your neck, finding your pulse with his lips. “That was incredible.”

You giggle softly, carding your fingers through his sweat-dampened locks. They feel like silk, soft and luxurious. “Mm, it certainly was.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he exhales, rolling off of you and pulling you into his arms. He presses a tender kiss to your temple, marveling at the intimacy of the moment. It feels new, like an uncharted territory that he wants to explore further. With you. “I meant what I said earlier,” he murmurs, his voice barely above whisper and sincere. “I want to be better. To be worthy of you.”

You hum, lifting your head to look at him and all you see in his violet eyes is raw honesty and a depth of emotion that takes your breath away. “I believe you,” you tell him, leaning in to capture his lips in a slow, lingering kiss. There’s no more rush, no more lust — just pure, soft affection. “And I want to help you change. Together, yeah?”

Suguru smiles against our mouth, his heart swelling with love he never knew he was capable of.

Together.

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little-diable · 1 month ago

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Kinktober Day 1 - Jasper Hale

Here we go – my favourite month is finally upon us! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

🖤 Blood 🖤

Warnings: 18+, smut, rough piv, blood play

Pairing: Jasper Hale x fem!reader (700 words)

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

header by @theanythingbuthuman 🤍

The room was barely alight, only a few candles were offering some flickering guidance. (Y/n) had lost all sense of time, unsure how long she and Jasper had been hiding away in her bedroom, finding comfort in one another’s presence as they chased one high after another.

“Can you take another, darlin’?” His voice had a slight condescending touch to it, leaving her choking on a “Yes”. The vampire smirked down at her, losing himself in his thoughts about his mate - seconds she used to flip him around, straddling his waist.

“It’s my turn now.” Not once had she done this before, preferring to have Jasper guiding their moments together. But something had shifted inside of her today, something that left (y/n) ending up right here, sinking down on his cock while his eyes turned into a darker shade. Her walls fluttered around him, holding onto his cock while he impatiently bucked his hips.

(Y/n) could tell that Jasper was struggling to hold himself back, but perhaps it was also the fault of the small dagger she reached for. Somewhere along the way, they had begun to include knives into their back and forth, Jasper liked to tease her with the cold metal, seeing the excitement swim in her pupils. But not once had he cut her, always careful not to harm her.

Her fingers trembled as she brought the tip of the dagger up to her pointer finger, smirking down at Jasper. (Y/n) knew that she could trust him fully, knowing that he would never risk her safety, and yet her heart still skipped a few beats the second she lightly cut her skin. The groan leaving Jasper made her gasp, keeping her eyes focused on him before bringing her bleeding finger up to his lips.

They held eye contact as he parted his lips, eyes filled with an unfamiliar sensation she hadn’t seen thump through his system until this very moment. He was struggling, knowing that he needed to do something before the predator inside of him could gain the upper hand, so he flipped her around again, hovering over (y/n) to roughly fuck into her.

“Oh, fuck, Jas’.” She was close to screaming, wide eyed staring at the man who fucked her harder than ever before probably. He was high on the taste of her blood, knowing that he would be forever addicted to it, unable to ever forget about the no longer foreign taste.

Sounds she couldn’t pinpoint left him, blending together with the sounds of their bodies meeting with every ferocious thrust. (Y/n) knew that her overstimulated body wouldn’t be able to hold on for long, not expecting him to react like that to her taste, a single drop which had elevated his mood to new levels.

She felt him deep inside of her, close to destroying the metallic frame of her bed with how roughly he moved. And yet she didn’t find it in herself to complain, both were too far gone, (y/n) with her body trembling with need, Jasper with eyes that were close to turning so black that even night itself would fear the depth of the darkness he emenated.

“Jas,” (y/n) choked on his name as she came. With her head thrown back, with her fingernails scratching at his skin, she let her orgasm clash through her. Jasper kept snapping his hips against hers, burying himself inside of her with a strength he’d apologise for later on.

(Y/n) lost her grip on reality, allowing him to use her body while he came himself, falling over the edge with a choked out groan. With her last ounce of strength, she pulled him down for a kiss, letting their tongues meet while he pulled out of her.

“Are you hurt, darlin’?” Jasper’s voice was rougher, lower, still high on the scent and taste of her blood. She could only shake her head, too far gone to put her thoughts into proper words, and yet (y/n) couldn't help but pull Jasper closer, needing to feel him with his arms wrapped around her to guide her to safety.

#little-diables kinktober24 #jasper hale smut #Jasper hale x reader #kinktober #twilight #Jasper hale imagine

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theplaid-wearingmoose · 6 months ago

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The Suit Stays On~Miguel O'Hara x Reader smut~

Inspired by this post

Being in a relationship with Spiderman was the best thing that ever happened to you. Only thing was you had to keep it to yourself. But you wanted to talk with someone about it. One thing led to another and here you were scrolling on tumblr reading smut fic after smut fic of your man. You had to admit, it was pretty sexy. The writers didn't know his name or yours, of course. But reading about Spiderman picking up "Y/N" with his super strong arms and taking her against the closest wall or webbing her up and having his way with her, leaving the suit on during sex, all had you wet and craving something you never thought to ask Miguel for in the bedroom: Spiderman roleplay.

You'd been so obsessed with the fanfictions, you'd turned on notifications for your favorite authors and for the "Spiderman x reader" tag. You were watching Miguel on the tv as the news covered him taking on the bad guy of the week. Some anomaly refusing to go back to their own dimension. Miguel handled it quickly as usual and less than an hour later he was in your apartment, showering while you were in the kitchen. As he got out, he could hear your phone buzzing on the bed. It was going off repeatedly. Normally he would just ignore it, probably emails from work or something, but this was constant. Every few minutes your phone would go off. Rolling his eyes, he sighed heavily and strolled over to the bed. He grabbed your phone and unlocked it to mute your notifications, when he noticed the "t" icon at the top of your phone. Multiple t's began to appear as the tag updated with more fics. Curiosity got the better of him and he pulled down the header to see what was so important. His eyes widened as he saw the first notification, "Spiderman NSFW headcannons". "What the hell is a headcannon?" He murmured to himself, unable to stop himself from pressing it.

Your phone opened your tumblr app to the Spiderman tag and Miguel was bombarded with pictures of himself (well, Spiderman) drawn in some interesting ways, as well as hundreds of stories about him. Fanfictions about Spiderman saving a girl then having sex with her, Spiderman with a Villain!Reader, Spiderman getting kinky with the webbing. It went on and on. Miguel was shocked by how many people fantasized about Spiderman. He actually thought he was rather unpopular. Is this what you were into? Why hadn't you come to him with your fantasy? He'd be more than happy to indulge you in some roleplay. And what was better than having the actual Spiderman there for your fantasy? He swiped over to your profile and found your "Likes" sections. He quickly read through the top few stories, ideas buzzing through his head.

"Miguel! Your food is ready!" You called, your voice snapping him out of his focus on your phone. He was hungry but the idea of you being aroused by his alter ego created a different kind of hunger in him. He wanted to take you in all kinds of ways. He needed to see you beg for him in his spidersuit. He needed to do this right.

With a couple taps on his watch Miguel's suit digitally reappeared on his body. He extended his talons and jumped up, hooking himself to the ceiling, and headed towards the kitchen. Your apartment was nice enough to have a higher ceiling so he could sneak above you without you noticing. He was used to creeping up on bad guys like this but it felt different doing it to you. Like you were unsuspecting prey just for him, the strong predator, to pounce on and devour. You were just below him now, completely unaware of your surroundings because of your earbuds. He watched you for a moment as your served up plates for the two of you, humming softly and swinging your hips to the music playing in your ears. He held back a moan as he watched your ass sway side to side in those shorts. He could feel the predator instinct in him kick into a higher gear and his fangs began to extend on their own, his mouth watering at the thought of webbing you up and taking you right here on the ceiling.

He shook his head, clearing his mind. He'd have plenty of time for that. He didn't want to rush this. He descended slowly on a web behind you, his head level with the back of yours as he hung upside down. You pulled out one of your earbuds to call for him again. "Migue-AAH!" You screamed as your turned and came face to face with the red and blue mask, eyes staring intently at you through it. "Jesus! What the hell are you doing?!" You shouted, clutching your chest. Miguel laughed. "Is that how you talk to the guy that just rescued you, hermosa?" You looked at him, confused. "Huh?" "What happened to 'thank you'? I even saved your cellphone...lots of interesting notifications you have on there, hermosa." Miguel replied, waving your cellphone in front of you. The eyes on his masked shifted into a knowing look and your own widened as you realized what he meant. Your face heated up in embarrassment but Miguel being on board for the roleplay, initiating it even, had you so wet and you weren't about to pass this up.

"Th-thank you, Spiderman, for saving me. How can I ever repay you?" He beckoned you forward with his finger. "How about a kiss?" He suggested. Biting your lip, you slowly ran your hands up to the base of his mask and peeled it slowly down his face, stopping just on the bridge of his nose. You gently pressed your lips to his and hummed dreamily against him. Miguel let out a low groan as you sucked on his bottom lip. Your thumb brushed his cheek as you held his face and Miguel could feel his resolve to take his time wavering. You pulled away from him much sooner than he would've liked but it was all part of the character you were playing. The shy, naive girl flustered from being saved by her superhero crush.

You stepped back after pulling his mask back over his face, shyly rubbing your arm and avoiding his gaze. He flipped down from his web, towering over you as he stood to his full height. "I don't think you're done repaying me yet, princesa." He murmured. "W-what else do you want?" You asked, anticipation buzzing through you. He tilted his head to one side as if examining you. "I have a few ideas".

~~~~~~

You had no idea that when you started this, you'd be laying strapped in a giant web on the corner of your living room ceiling, your clothes torn and dangling below you, while Miguel crawled menacingly towards your dripping pussy. "You look so beautiful like this, hermosa. I think I should keep you like this for a while. That way I can keep you safe. You wouldn't want to run into anymore danger, would you?" Your response was cut off with a moan as Miguel licked a long stripe up your pussy. You cried out and tugged against your restraints as his tongue flicked up and down your clit. His strong hands held your legs open and his lips wrapped around your clit making your head spin from the pleasure. Pulling away with a sucking pop, he smirked at you, his sharp fangs visible in his grin. "Answer me, muñeca." He demanded, his deep voice rumbling in your ear, making you clench around nothing.

"N-no Spiderman...I-I don't want to get into trouble again." Miguel hummed in approval and began to rub your clit in slow circles. "You need me to protect you, don't you, baby? You're just too sweet to be wandering the streets alone. It's not safe." Biting your lip to stifle your moans, you nodded quickly. Miguel's fingers worked skillfully over you, dipping inside you a few times before returning to your clit and then back again. "Tell me you need me to keep you safe, baby. I wanna hear you." Miguel growled. "Y-yes! Oh f-fuck yes! Please Spiderman..I-I need you. N-need you to keep me -ah! s-safe. Oh fuck please Spiderman...need you so bad!" You whined, Miguel's fingers speeding up inside you.

"You're so pretty when you beg, hermosa. You'll let me fuck you like this, won't you? Dirty girl..letting your hero take you any way I want. So fucking naughty.."

Miguel climbed on top of you, your legs wrapping around his waist. He retracted just enough of his suit to free his large, hard cock. Stroking it a couple times, he looked down at you, his mask returning to cover the rest of his face. "Estás lista, cariño?" You nodded again, too aroused to answer respond. Miguel gripped your hips in his large hands and pushed into you slowly. The room was filled with loud moaning from the two of you. Miguel leaned down next to your ear. "I'm not going to be gentle, princesa." He warned. You whimpered and bucked your hips up into his. "Please fuck me, Spiderman. I want you inside me!" You whined.

Miguel began to set a brutal pace. The sound of his hips snapping against yours filled the room, along with your cries of pleasure. Your hands clenched at the web restraining you, your fingers aching from how tight you were squeezing. His head fell down onto your shoulder, his panting and groaning filled your ears. "Oh fuuuuck yes! You feel so fucking good!" You moaned, clenching around Miguel tightly. "You're gonna make me -fuck...cum if you keep talking like that, baby." He groaned. "Please cum inside me, Spiderman. Fill me up...I wanna feel it dripping out of me!" You begged. Miguel choked out a moan and gripped your hips tightly. The web shook as Miguel slammed into you over and over again.

"Want me to fill you up, bebita? Want me to put a baby in you?"

"Oh my god please, Spiderman. Give it to me! I want it so bad!" You screamed, your orgasm hitting you suddenly, soaking Miguel's cock. His orgasm followed not too far behind. You were certain bruises were forming on your hips from how hard he was squeezing you as he came. His hot seed spilled inside you, coating your insides. Miguel rocked his hips against you as he came down from his orgasm. The two of you were breathing heavily and Miguel collapsed beside you, digitally removing his mask from his face. He leaned over and pressed kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

"Was that okay, mi vida?" He asked, his previous cockiness lost when he dropped character and replaced with a bit of nervousness that he didn't live up to the online fantasies.

You hummed happily and once he released your hands, moved over to rest your head on his chest. "Definitely more than okay. That was amazing." You sighed. Miguel smiled to himself and kissed the top of your head. "I didn't mean to go through your tumblr. Your phone kept going off and I guess curiosity got to me. Why didn't you tell me you had a thing for me in my Spidersuit?" "I didn't want you to think it was weird I guess. Or that I only loved you cause you're a superhero. I loved Miguel before I loved Spiderman. The suit just adds to the sexiness." You replied. Miguel laughed loudly and pulled you closer. "Gracias, hermosa. I'll make sure the news cameras get my good angles next time they're covering me fighting someone." You rolled your eyes playfully and kissed him.

"And don't worry I've got way more ideas for us to try, Spiderman."

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel x reader #spiderman x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o hara x reader smut #atsv miguel #spiderman x reader smut

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dollfacefantasy · 1 year ago

Text

Just Like the Movies

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend dons the ghostface mask to let you live out a fantasy

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, cnc, praise/degradation, knife play, predator/prey dynamic (he chases her idk what to call it), dacryphilia, voyeurism mentions

word count: 3.4k

a/n: i wanted to write at least one spooky thing for halloween and i love scream so here you go. i'm working on requests i promise, i just wanted to get this out before october ends. as always, thank you for the comments and reblogs <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz ghostface photo used in the header is from @/oikizumi on pinterest!

An old scary movie plays on the television as you relax on the couch after a hard week. You had a soft blanket draped over you and a bowl of popcorn in your lap. The missing piece was your boyfriend. You were just waiting for him to come home and join you for your little makeshift marathon.

You casually watch the movie while lifting handfuls of popcorn to your mouth. You had seen this one before so it wasn’t scaring you, but it was entertaining enough to pass the time with until Leon returned to you.

It was getting to be that time of evening when he usually came marching through the door, tired from work but still with open arms for you to slide into. He hadn’t come home yet though. As you’re wondering where your lover could be, your phone begins to ring.

You sit up and grab it from the table in front of you.

No caller ID.

You raise your eyebrows at the strange nature of that. Assuming it’s a scam call though, you leave it be. However, the phone rings again. You actively decline the call this time. You place your phone down again, hoping that would be the end.

It wasn’t though because not even a minute later, your phone vibrates again.

You reach for the device and see a text message pop up on your lock screen.

‘Don’t ignore me, pretty girl.’

That piques your curiosity. When the phone rings again, you click the answer button and bring it to your ear.

“Hello?” you say.

“Finally, she answers the phone,” a smooth, predatory voice teases.

“Who is this?” you ask.

“Oh c’mon, you don’t wanna ruin the fun already, do you babydoll?” he purrs.

“Well, what do you want?” you ask. The cadence of the voice was familiar, but the actual sound of it, you couldn’t place. It didn’t sound like anyone you knew in real life.

“To talk to you. I guess you could say I’m kind of lonely,” he says with mock sadness.

“Aw, well I’m not, so bye,” you say and hang up the phone. As you begin to place that voice and the cadence behind it, Leon’s late arrival makes sense. You had disclosed this little fantasy to him recently. And it seemed like he had got the modulator to sound just like the movie for you.

Not even ten seconds go by before the phone rings again. An excited chill comes over you as you lift it and accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Why’d you hang up on me, angel? That’s not very nice of you,” he taunts, “You doing something better right now?”

“Mhm,” you hum.

“Yeah? What’s so important that you can’t spare a few moments of your precious time?”

“I’m about to watch some scary movies,” you say, a smile spreading on your face. You sit up on the couch more as you feel where this conversation is going.

“Scary movies? I like scary movies,” he says, “Tell me, do you have a favorite?”

“I like Scream. You ever seen that one?” you say teasingly.

“I’m familiar,” he says, “That one’s not really scary though. I bet I could give you more of a thrill.”

“Mm, maybe. But sadly for you, my boyfriend will be home soon.”

“Boyfriend? That’s a shame,” he says, his voice becoming a hint darker.

“I’m sure it is. Anyways, I should be going…” you trail off knowingly.

“C’mon, blondie can wait a few more minutes.”

“Blonde,” you repeat slowly, feigning fear, “How do you know he’s blonde?”

“I’ve been watching you for a while, baby. Had to make sure everything would be perfect tonight,” he says with a low laugh, “Let’s just say that we have plenty of time now.”

“Why are you doing this? Who are you?” you say, cranking up the fear in your voice. You stand up from the couch and walk to a window to see if you can spot him outside.

“That doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Plus, I thought girls liked the whole man of mystery thing,” he chuckles, “You’re honestly telling me this doesn’t turn you on?”

“It doesn’t!” you say defensively.

“Are you sure about that?” he breathes, “When I cut those slutty little shorts off you, I’m not gonna find a messy cunt crying for me to fill her?”

“No…” you say, your cheeks heating up while arousal pools in your belly.

“You don’t sound so sure,” he teases, “Y’know, I think I can see your nipples getting hard under that thin shirt all the way from here.”

You quickly step away from the window, a shiver shooting up your spine. You bite your lip. “Please don’t hurt me,” you whimper.

His cruel laugh crackles through the phone. “I wanna hear you cry like that when you’re cumming all over my cock.”

Every word tumbling from his lips stoked the flames of desire within you. Your veins were coursing with a primal need at this point.

“I’m gonna call the police,” you say. Your voice was breathy in what could be interpreted as terror, but in reality, it was pure lust.

“Do you think that would stop me?” he rasps into the phone, “Because, we both know I would get to you before the operator could even take your address. But let’s say you did get through. I can be quick, doll. Take what’s mine and have that tight pussy full of my cum with time to spare.”

You shift your thighs and look for the smallest semblance of friction as he lays this out to you.

“By the time any cop did get here, all they would find is a pathetic little mess, lying on the ground all fucked out and bred, a dumb smile on that pretty face.”

The tiniest whine escapes your throat from that mental image. You wonder if he heard it, but the throaty chuckle on the other end answers your question.

“You dirty fucking whore. You love this. You wanna be pinned down and used until your sweet mind is broken and completely cock drunk.”

“No, I don’t,” you say, trying to keep up the act of defiance even though your desire was palpable in your voice.

“Well, too bad. But I’ll be generous, little one. I’m telling you that I’m coming in now. A little head start if you’re smart,” he says, “You better not waste my fucking time. Give me a good chase, or I’m not gonna be nice when I catch you. Find out if your insides are as pretty as the outside.”

You hang up the phone. Your body was on fire with a mix of adrenaline and arousal. You scamper through the house into another room, wondering what to even start with. Your thoughts are cut off when you hear the back door slide open.

Your pulse thunders in your ears. You move quietly across the room you’re in, peering through the doorway back into the living room. You see him. That tall and fit body donned in a tight black t-shirt and pants. He wears black leather boots on his feet. A large hunting knife is strapped to his belt. His head is covered, and when he turns, your heart seizes at the sight of the ghostface mask.

He catches a glimpse of you through the cracked door and starts toward you. You zoom through the other door in the room, maneuvering quickly around furniture and stray clutter. Then, you loop back to the open back door. You can hear him clambering through the hall behind you. Primal fear courses through you, instinctually telling every cell in your body to run.

“Where do you think you’re going, sugar?” you hear the voice modulator crackle.

Moving through the sliding door, you dart across the backyard. The grass was wet against your feet since you didn’t have the time to grab a pair of shoes. You fumble with the gate, your hands shaking from the adrenaline coursing through you. You try to shut it behind you to delay him, but he’s already so close.

You continue sprinting into the woods behind your home. The area surrounding you was dark. It was cold out too. Your skin had broken out into goosebumps, your thin shirt and shorts not providing much warmth, and your bare feet only exacerbating the feeling.

There were trees everywhere, and it felt like there were things hiding within the dense woodland. The whole time you focused on not running into a tree, you could hear him behind you. His breathing was heavier, but it was clear he was exerting minimal effort.

You jump over overgrown roots and duck under stray branches. Despite running for a bit, you still weren’t too deep in the woods. You shoot a look behind you, trying to see if you were any closer to losing him than before. He’s just as close, and in the midst of your attempted glance, your foot catches on a rock. You cry out and tumble to the ground. Skin scrapes against the dirt and rocks beneath you.

He slows his pace to a simple walk, pulling the hunting knife from the sheath. The wide blade shimmers in the pale moonlight. He holds it up and drags a gloved fist over the silver, just like in the movies. Another, low laugh breaks through the speaker of the modulator.

“Too easy, princess,” he taunts, “Get up and keep running.”

Your eyes widen and blood rushes to the lower region of your body at the command. You stumble to your feet and stagger away. Your foot aches a little from the rock and the fall, but you continue in earnest.

He lets you go on for a while longer. Occasionally, he would intentionally fall behind, giving you the illusion that you could outrun him. But also filling you with the dread that you would be out in those woods alone.

Soon enough, he’s had enough of the chase. He speeds up and hooks his arms around your waist. He pulls you to the ground in a swift motion, whipping around your body so quickly that you could barely see it. He’s got one of his knees holding your dominant arm down while a hand holds the knife to your throat. You squirm and whimper under him, causing him to shake his head and make a noise of mock disappointment.

“Poor baby. You did all you could, didn’t you?” he coos menacingly, leaning down closer to your face, “Look at you. Out of breath, heart beating out of your chest. You tried so hard.”

He brings the knife up to your cheek and drags the tip across, not cutting you but letting you feel the cool metal on your soft skin. You whine and scrunch your face in discomfort, eliciting a cruel laugh from him. He drops the knife nearby and shakes his head.

“Not a fan of knives, sweet thing? Too scary?”

Next, you try recoiling from his touch, but he’s caging your body on the ground. The damp dirt presses against your back and smears on his clothing as he wrestles with you to keep you in place. Again, you can see how little effort it takes for him to keep you down. The display of strength has your heart beating harder with lust.

“Keep fighting me, little one. It’s my favorite part,” he breathes before shifting on top of you and roughly flipping you over.

Now, squirming only rubs your face into the soil beneath you. In this position, you can feel his hard cock against your ass. He reaches over for the knife again and brings it to the base of your spine. He uses his knee to hold down your arm again, so he can pull your skimpy top taut and slice through it with ease.

He handles you like a ragdoll and yanks it off. The knife falls to the ground again as he reaches around your body with both gloved hands to knead your breasts. You whimper at the harsh squeezes and rolls of his fingers. His face is right next to your head, and you can hear his ragged breathing under the mask.

He pinches and teases your nipples, your noises now becoming obviously pleasurable. A hand slides into your hair and grips the roots as he shoves your face to the ground. Your cheek is smooshed on the cool surface, and your lips part as your own breathing picks up. Your hips are still squirming, but now only to try and feel some friction with his dick.

“There we go. Such a little slut. Didn’t take much for you to give in. You know this is where you belong. Beneath me, stuffed full of my cock,” he groans.

His hands glide down your body, pulling your hips into place. He tugs your shorts and panties down to your knees, humming in satisfaction when he sees your dripping cunt. Two leather-covered fingers slide through your slick. They circle your puffy clit, drawing mewls from your throat. The fingers then dip inside you and pump in and out a few times. Your body shudders at the sensation.

“So fucking wet. You like this even more than I thought. So sick baby. My twisted little doll,” he teases.

He plants his free hand on the back of your neck and digs his fingers into the side of your throat. His other hand continues working your aching pussy, adding in another finger to your needy hole. You choke out a few moans as your breathing becomes more like panting.

“All this for just my fingers? Can’t imagine how you’re gonna cry on my cock. Maybe scream for me a few times,” he purrs.

After a bit more, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy, shushing you when you whine in protest. You hear the sound of a zipper and the rustle of fabric being adjusted. It isn’t long before you feel the heat of his cock prodding your entrance. You shift your hips back, taking the tip in.

He grunts and his breath hitches as you clamp down on the sensitive head. Once he regains his composure, he slams his hips forward, sheathing himself fully inside you with one thrust. You cry out and claw the dirt beneath you.

“You wanna be an impatient little bitch, I’m not gonna be gentle with you. If you’re so fucking needy that you can’t wait two seconds for my dick, I’ll treat you like the cockslut you are, sweetheart,” he says before beginning to rock his hips back and forth.

He finds a rhythm with ease. One of his hands gives your ass a few firm smacks while his other hand returns to your head to pull on your hair. The noise of your skin connecting sounds through the woods along with your whining. His grip on your hair is like a vise. The mild sting of the pull mixed with the rush of pleasure from him drilling into you brings some tears to your eyes.

“That’s right, fucking take it. This is what you were made for, sweet girl. Your body knows it,” he grunts as your walls flutter around him.

He smacks your ass again while getting more erratic with his thrusts. The hand in your hair returns to your hip to give him more leverage. His digits dig into your skin to the point of potential bruises. You whimper and moan, your head becoming cloudy while he stretches you out.

His quiet moans hit your ears and make your stomach erupt with butterflies. You tighten around his shaft. You were starting to work up a sweat despite the cool temperature of the air around you. You shudder and twitch, only causing him to hold you tighter.

Your back arches as more sinful noises pour from your lips. A particular thrust snaps something in you and breaks the dam that was holding in your tears. It felt like he was stroking deeper than ever before, and you just couldn’t hold it in. Warm drops stream from your eyes while your whimpering grows louder and less controlled.

“Are you crying, little love?” he coos, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. He starts rubbing your back with even, soothing strokes without stopping his thrusts, “Cry it out, sweetheart. It just feels too good, doesn’t it?”

“Y-yeah,” you whimper with a weak nod.

“Yes it does. I know, baby,” he says condescendingly. His gloved hand continues caressing your back while he snaps in and out. You grow louder still, whining and moaning through tears.

“Someone’s gonna hear you, doll,” he teases. Your cheeks warm with embarrassment, but you’re past the point of being able to control your volume. “You’d probably get off on that though, you little freak.”

“N-no,” you stutter out in an attempt to defend yourself, but you’re cut off by your own gasps of pleasure.

“No? You wouldn’t cum on the spot if someone saw you like this? Taking my cock like the good little whore you are. Crying cause it’s just too much for you.”

You shake your head as best you can while being pressed against the ground. Your pussy clenches around him though from the description alone.

“Sure,” he chuckles before grunting, “Someone could be watching right now. It’s so fucking dark out here you wouldn’t even know.”

You can’t hide the thrill that gives you. A loud cry tears through you and your hips squirm within his grasp, trying to get you to that peak.

“Yeah, I know you like that,” he growls, leaning down and encasing you with his arms. The new angle lets him piston himself even deeper within you.

He keeps grinding himself into you as you both feel the coils of release getting closer to snapping. One of his arms snakes around your head, his bicep curling around your neck. The plastic front of the ghostface mask presses into the side of your head. He’s grunting and moaning into your ear, bringing you right to the edge.

“I feel it coming, honey. Let it go. Cream on my cock, baby girl. Give it all to me,” he mumbles.

With no reason to hold back, you let your release explode. You writhe in his hold, gasping and crying as euphoria floods your being. You bite your lip and tilt your head back to nuzzle and sloppily kiss at the mask.

He’s not far behind you. A few thrusts later, he’s draining himself in you, filling your insides with hot and sticky cum. His hips sputter and the mask becomes misaligned on his head as the two of you press against each other.

You’re both panting in the end. Leon pulls out and rolls off of you, landing on the ground next to you. You don’t move from your place in the dirt and just look over at him. He tugs off the mask and drops it near the knife. For the first time tonight, you see his charming smile and sweet eyes, a sharp contrast to the performance he just put on. He leans over and gives you a soft kiss as he adjusts the rest of his clothing.

You still don’t move from your position. He sits up and rubs your back again. His hands massage the muscles there for a moment before trailing down your leg. He gently lifts your foot and kisses your ankle.

“Your foot ok, baby?” he asks while rubbing your thigh. Even after all that, he hadn’t forgotten your fall earlier.

“Mhm,” you hum with a nod.

“Ok, good,” he says.

He starts to help you roll over so you can get up. He smiles at you, brushing some dirt off your cheek.

“Let’s get you home so we can shower,” he says and helps you pull your shorts back on as you sit up. He kisses your temple a few times and strokes your hair, “Then we can cuddle and watch some scary movies.”

That makes you crack a smile, and you kiss his lips.

“Let’s get home quick. It’s cold out here, and I don’t have a shirt anymore thanks to you,” you tease.

You rise to your feet and lean on him for support. He picks up the knife and mask as well as the scrap of cloth that was once your top. He offers it to you with a sheepish smile. You roll your eyes and shake your head.

“Guess, you’ll just have to stay close then,” he says and tucks you under his arm. He kisses the crown of your head before you two start walking back through the woods to your home together.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

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avocado-writing · 1 month ago

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Kinktober #12

12. Sex Toys // Dirty Talk // Breath Play (Logan Howlett x Reader x Wade Wilson)

By all accounts it should be a lovely evening. That restaurant you’ve been on the waiting list for for months finally ticked around, all of you dressed up nice. It’s fancy enough that when Logan does get recognised people leave him alone (this makes Wade pout in envy and you have to remind him that he, well, wears a mask). The three of you are tucked away in a booth away from wandering eyes, lit only in the chiaroscuro of a flickering candelabra.

Comforted by candlelight and the rich smell of cooking food, It is the perfect place for Wade to test you.

“Someone’s looking pretty fuckable in those dress pants,” Wade says, his hand resting on your knee, mouth at your ear. Two gestures which could be entirely genuine… but you know better. His tongue swipes at your lobe and his fingers threaten to trace higher, up your inner thigh, to somewhere far more illicit. He wants to be a menace and it’s fucking working.

“Wade…” you warn, and though your voice is firm there’s no real sincerity behind it. Yeah, you’d let him finger fuck you at a five-star restaurant. What of it?

“What, baby? I’m just pointing out there’s all this gourmet stuff on the menu but you’re the only thing here I wanna eat.”

You swat at him with said menu, earning a raised eyebrow from the maître d’. You pretend there was a fly and shoot him an apologetic look.

“I know how hot we get you. You’re probably dripping, right? Ready for us? You wanna be fucked in public by your boys, pookie?”

That goes directly between your legs. You have to adjust yourself against the leather seating.

“I…” there’s no fight left in your voice. Instead you look over to Logan beseechingly. If he tells Wade to stop maybe it’ll work.

Logan looks up from the menu slowly, and if you didn’t know him so well, you’d miss the playful spark which glints in his eyes.

“And tell you what, honey? That he’s wrong? That I wouldn’t bend you over this table and fuck you so hard it’d break the wood?”

Wade gasps to your left and you groan. Oh, no. Not him too…

“Yes! Come on, Marvel Daddy! Make this worth the Explicit tag in the header…”

Logan doesn’t acknowledge that but does close in to your other side. His breath is warm against the shell of your ear.

“Take turns on you. Or maybe both of us, one either side, everyone watching. I bet you’d like that,” he says with a devilish smirk.

“You kidding? I can see inside this head-” Wade gently taps your temple “-and thoughts are racing, baby. Tell us who’s in your pussy and who’s using your mouth. C’mon, maybe we could make it happen for real…”

Your face is turning so hot you’re gonna explode. Logan’s hand joins Wade as a partner on your other knee.

“Boys…” you try to sound no-nonsense but it just coming out pathetic and needy. They give you twinned smiles. A pair of predators closing in.

In an act of god a waiter comes over to take drinks orders at that moment and they’re forced to retreat. You steel yourself. There’s no way you’re getting through tonight in one piece…

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imyourbratzdoll · 6 months ago

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𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈

part 3 of 🌧️welcome to hell🌧️

summary - as the betrayal continues, you slip through memories that you had unknowingly locked away, finally seeing the lies.

warning - cheating, angst, bad thoughts, swearing, self-hate.

the gif I use isn't mine, headers by me.

part 1 - part 2 - part 4

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You finally make your way to your bedroom, each step dragging with dread. You could feel the end approaching, but you didn’t know how it would go. You walk in and see him already on his side, you sigh softly before crawling into the bed. You felt your skin crawl with him so close, you felt like you needed to bathe in bleach or boiling hot water or even both to stop feeling so dirty. You turned on your side, not being able to fall asleep as your mind is flooded with thoughts and memories.

Ten minutes pass and you feel Johnny move before he slides out of bed and tiptoes to the bedroom door. Your eyes slip shut when he turns his head to check if you are asleep. The moment he walks out, and the door closes gently behind him, a tear slips from your eyes.

The house had been quiet, but the moment your husband entered the guest bedroom next to yours. The silence had been replaced, first with their voices. They were muffled, but you could still hear them through the wall, your heart was pounding in your chest as their voices turned into moans. You felt as though someone had reached into your chest, grabbed your heart and started squeezing and twisting. You imagined the person doing it was a demonic version of Johnny, he stood before you, his hand in your chest, claws digging into your frantic heart. His eyes black, an evil swirled inside of them, and a large sadistic grin appeared, a row of sharp teeth shown.

The truth was… You’d rather deal with a demon than what was happening in the other room.

Your eyes slip closed as tears continue to fall and as you are trying to block out the sounds coming from the guest room. You are pulled into a memory…

Your body collides into something, and your eyes squeeze shut as you are expecting to fall from the force of impact. You feel someone wrap their arms around you and your eyes shoot open, you are met with the prettiest blue eyes you have ever seen. Your mouth opens and closes, cheeks heating up when you realise you’ve been staring for too long at the hot stranger.

He smiles down at you, and you feel like you’re dreaming. “You better watch your step, Baby girl. You nearly fell for me.” His smile shifted into a smirk, you were the prey to the predator, the toy to a manwhore. Your heart fluttered.

Your lashes fluttered as you blinked before you realised you were still in the man’s arms. You gently pull away and look down at your feet, your bottom lip between your teeth as you suddenly feel shy and ridiculous. “I’m so sorry.” Your hands smooth out the dress you are wearing before you pause as a hand comes up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes shoot up and connect with his pretty blue ones.

“Nothing to be sorry about, Baby. You got a name, beautiful?” You nod. He chuckles, “Not gonna share it?”

Your mouth opens and your face heats up again. “Oh! I’m sorry, it’s Y/n.” You begin to chew your bottom lip, staring at him again.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Names Johnny.” He smirks again. “What do you say we get outta here, Baby girl?” And like that, your interest in him crashed and burned.

You shook your head. “It was nice to meet you, Johnny.” You give him a small smile before you walk away. Unknowingly leaving the playboy shocked behind you.

You had chosen a path that you didn’t know had been set out for you that day. Fate had created two, and if you had moved to the left a little bit two seconds before bumping into Johnny. You would’ve bumped into your other path. The path you were meant to take.

That was the first time you had met each other, but it seemed the universe or fate wasn’t done with either of you just yet. The memory switched…

You were sitting in a small cafe, your laptop opened in front of you as a hot coffee sat beside it. Your brows were furrowed as you stared at the screen, not noticing the hot not so stranger walk in. Johnny looks around with a cocky look, trying to find someone he could take home when his eyes landed on you and his expression morphed into one of shock.

You were the one that got away, a challenge. Johnny was rarely turned down, anyone and everyone wanted him. So why didn’t you?

It seemed from the beginning you were always just a challenge for him to pursue and when he got you. He must’ve grown bored because once you’ve caught the thing that interested you, sparked something inside, made you curious to figure out. Was it really fun anymore?

Johnny sauntered over, a smirk on his lips. “Hey, Baby girl.” You look up with wide eyes, not expecting to run into him here. It didn’t seem like his style.

“Johnny…”

“It’s good to see you again, beautiful.” He licked his lips as his eyes danced over your body. You shift, your eyes darting between him and your laptop. He must’ve sensed something was wrong because his back straightened. “I’m sorry. I feel like we’ve come off on the wrong foot.” He did a spin, facing you with a playful smile. “Hi, I’m Johnny. It’s nice to meet you!”

You didn’t mean to, but a giggle slipped out. A giggle? You haven’t done that since you were a teenager and your crush spoke to you. Your lashes flutter as you look into his eyes, a smile making an appearance on your face. Your hand slips into his extended one, shaking it gently. “Hi, I’m Y/n.”

After your second meeting, things seemed to hit off from there. You exchanged numbers and kept in touch, after speaking on the phone for two weeks. Johnny had asked you on a date. Your memory switched to when your relationship turned romantic…

You were extremely nervous, why was Johnny bothering with you? You knew what kind of guy he was. So, was this a play to get into your pants? You stared at yourself in the mirror, your lip had become puffy and red from how much you had been chewing on it. Your eyes scan your outfit, trying to spot a problem. You wore a slightly larger size, dark grey wool jumper with a black skirt.

Johnny was taking you to a carnival and you didn’t want to overdress, but you also didn’t want to look horrible. So you went with a simple option, but you didn’t know if this was a good decision in the first place. Your brows furrowed, he had been nice. But what did he want with you?

You shake your head of your thoughts before grabbing a clip to clip your hair back, only leaving a few strands out to frame your face. You then walk into your bathroom and apply some mascara and gloss, having to take some deep breaths as you feel so anxious. You couldn’t shake these nerves, somewhere deep inside. You felt like this was wrong.

A knock at the door brings you out of it and you walk over with a smile you had practiced so many times in the mirror, wanting, needing to look perfect. You didn’t want everyone else to see the flaws you saw.

Your biggest fear was that eventually he would see you the way you saw yourself.

He had looked hot that night, like he always did. You never knew what he saw in you. You remembered his reaction when you opened the door.

Your body buzzes with nerves as you open the door, your eyes land on Johnny who looks away from something when he hears the door opening. His eyes landed on you, and they sparkled, scanning you from head to toe. “Wow… You look beautiful.” He licked his lips. He calls you beautiful like it’s your name, but why did it feel like a lie? “You ready to go?” You nod, following him out.

As you relive the memory, you realise so many signs you had missed. You should have seen it coming. The signs were flashing brightly in front of your face, but you were too blind to see. Everything flashes before your eyes so quickly, the night of your first date. He was looking at your new neighbour who had just moved in down the hall, she had just come home from work at the diner and caught his eye. You didn’t know that after your date when you wouldn’t let him in, that he would then knock on her door and end up in her bed. He didn’t cheat, but he wasn’t completely honest, and you didn’t know which was worse. You remembered the date, things that were once locked away in your mind to protect your heart were now unlocking before your eyes.

He took you to the carnival that you had been dying to go to, but you never had the time or the people to go with. You were so excited, practically bouncing on your feet as the lights caught your eye. Your smile so wide as you walked past the stalls and rides, your hand holding onto Johnny’s, eyes sparkling with happiness.

You were so busy looking around at the games that you missed the looks your date was giving others. From the beginning it seemed he wasn’t really in this for love. Oh god, why were you so blind? You pull him over to a game where you can win a bear, it wasn’t like the movies where the guy would offer to win the prize for you. Johnny just watched as you did it yourself. How did he trick you for so long?

At some point in the date, you began to feel sad. Was he not that into you? You watched him for a bit before looking down at the food he bought, and the roles switched. Johnny watched you and he wondered why you looked so sad. He was good at seducing women into his bed, he wasn’t the greatest at the whole dating thing.

“Do you want to go on the bumper cars? We can team up.” He didn’t know why he felt so nervous when asking, you were just a girl. What could be so scary about that? Johnny watched as your face lit up and you smiled. He liked when you smiled, it made him feel like he did something right. You nod and get up, not bothering to finish the food as you grab his hand and pull him towards the bumper cars.

The date picked up a bit after that, you still missed the looks Johnny gave any pretty woman that looked his way. But he was more attentive, so you were happier. You didn’t feel so unattractive and boring. Toward the end of the date, he took you on the ferris wheel, kissing you at the top. You thought you had felt sparks as your lips touched. But they were only what you had wanted to feel.

You pull out of the memory, tears streaming down your face as you remember that you never actually felt those sparks when your lips met his. Your memories continue to flash through your mind to distract you from the moans that have gotten louder. Johnny knew you were a deep sleeper, you guess that was why they didn’t even try to be quiet. Your second date he had taken you bowling, and you thought that maybe this could work. Then when your third date came around and he took you to a very fancy restaurant, you had a brief thought that maybe he forgot when you mentioned you preferred the simpler things in life. After your third date, Johnny had become more handsy and because of how blind you were, you thought you loved him and ended up in his bed.

You don’t know why you two got married. You had wanted it, the relationship was still thriving… Well, on your side it was. Johnny would be gone sometimes, but you brushed it off because of how sweet the relationship was sometimes.

Your ears ring as your mind blocks out the moans and you are dragged back into another memory, the one where you got your first apartment together.

You held his hand as you both walked into the tenth apartment that week, nothing had caught your eye yet, nothing seemed to call out to you. But this one felt good, it was in your price range and had the things you were looking for. Johnny seemed semi interested, but he had told you to choose what you liked before going back to his phone.

“Johnny, what do you think?” You wanted him to decide as well. You tugged slightly on his hand as you looked up at him, waiting for him to look up from his phone. He hums, removing his eyes from the screen before he looks around and nods, leaning down to place a kiss on your head.

“It’s perfect, Babe.” You smiled, everything in that moment felt perfect. You stared off, this was the beginning of your life. This would be the place where your relationship would blossom. You and Johnny had gotten the apartment that day.

When the day came to finally move your stuff in and get things sorted. You had gotten into a fight.

“Will you just leave me the fuck alone?! God! I need my fucking space!” Johnny screamed, his glare set on you.

“I just wanted to know where you were!” You screamed back, anger dripped from your words. “You knew we had things planned today! Yet, you decide that going out last night was more important! Why the hell are you only coming home now, Johnny?! It’s nine–thirty in the fucking morning!” You had forgotten this fight or more specifically what it was about. You can’t remember why you kept forgetting the bad?

He throws his hand up, “I stayed at a friend’s house! Is that a fucking problem?!”

“Yes. We had times set for when we had to be there, we still have things we need to do.”

“Why couldn’t you just do it? Do you seriously need me for everything? I came fucking apartment hunting with you when I could’ve been out!” Your anger started to rise when he opened his phone, now paying more attention to it than you. Who was he texting all the time?

But sadness began to overweigh the anger with your next words. “...We were supposed to do this together, WE as a couple. Not I or me, I wanted you to have a say as well…” You sigh, shaking your head before you grab your things and walk past him. “I’ll just do it myself… It’s fine.” You gulp, swallowing the tears.

You remember that was your first fight and on the way out of his place, you bumped into someone.

“I’m so sorry!” You quickly say as you shake your head, lifting your hand to quickly wipe away a stray tear that fell.

“I’m so sorry!” The stranger says at the same time, their hands immediately reaching out to steady you as you stumble.

You look up, your eyes connecting to the most beautiful blue eyes you have ever seen. You didn’t know that he thought the same about your eyes and you both stared at each other for a bit, a whole life together flashed before both of your eyes before a throat cleared.

You turn your head and feel your cheeks heat up, there stood a gorgeous redhead and of course this guy had a girlfriend, he was so dreamy… AND you had a boyfriend too! How could you forget that by just looking into his eyes? You clear your throat, stepping back a bit. The woman smirks, her eyes move between you and the man, as if she figured out something before anyone else. “Sorry for interrupting this love at first sight moment, but we gotta go.”

He nods, even though his cheeks turn a pretty pink and you’re sure if you touched yours, they’d be hot. “I’m sorry again for bumping into you, ma’am. Have a nice day.” He leaves with the prettiest smile you have ever seen, he leaves before you can even learn his name…

Now you remember why you forgot the fight… The moment you looked into the strangers eyes, the whole world disappeared and the only thing you could see, feel, smell was him. It felt like everything had connected, like your souls had finally found each other after searching for so long. It all felt like this was what was meant to be but was suddenly pulled away with each step he took as he left. Leaving your souls to search for one another again.

He was your soulmate. You didn’t know it, yet. But you’ll find him in the next life like you had found him in this one.

You were broken out of your trance at the sound of the door opening behind you. You turn around and see Johnny, he seemed in a rush with his face no longer in his phone and keys gripped tightly in his hand. “Thank god! I thought you’d be far by now!” Johnny pulls you into a hug and kisses your head. “I’m sorry, Babe. I should've been here at the time we said.” He pulls back and looks down at you. “Are you ready to go?”

You nod, walking with him but your mind is on someone else, and you feel so god damn guilty. You looked at your boyfriend to try and get the thoughts of someone else out of your head, but to no avail. You didn’t even know the guy’s name. How could he possibly make you feel more than you do with Johnny?

You finally made it to your new apartment, you had called ahead when you realised that you weren’t going to make it at the said time. Thankfully, they had been understanding.

When the two of you entered your new home. It didn’t exactly feel like it just yet, the place was empty except for the boxes filled with your belongings. The furniture you and Johnny had picked out hadn’t arrived, but you guess you could work around that.

As you were in the middle of unpacking some boxes, you noticed Johnny on his phone and frowned, wondering what had him smiling like that. Your question was answered as music filled the room and he placed his phone down before walking over to you with a smile. The empty apartment was now filled with laughter as you both danced around, not caring if the moves were perfect or not. You laugh as you fall into him, and his arms wrap around you. This is why you could push through all the bad, because there was still the good.

Yes, you could see it. Finally, it feels like our life together can start. He leans down, eyes slipping closed as his lips press flush against yours. Still no sparks, but that was okay. Because he was the one you wanted.

Now you remember why you two had married. Because in that moment, the man, Johnny’s disappearances and late nights, the stress of finding a new home and your questions on if he was the one had disappeared. Vanished as he held you in his arms, in your new home as he kissed you. Feeling happier than you had felt for so long.

You lay in bed, with every moan you could feel your heart break over and over again. All the good that once flooded your memories had been replaced with every sound that slipped from that room, no longer filled with love and happiness. You were no longer going to think of your wedding day or any other day that meant something to you, because they were all lies. You had realised too late that your relationship was a joke, Johnny had gotten better with hiding his man whorish ways.

“Fuck, I love you, beautiful.” The words were muffled, but it sounded so loud in your head. Those words seemed to be the final nail in the coffin.

He calls you beautiful like it was your name. It echoed, tore into your heart. Your heart barely tore at the I love you he had announced. That wasn’t the word that hurt the most, no… It was the name he had called you, now uttered against her lips, skin, soul. Etched into her being as though she was the only one, he was seeing. You felt like you could no longer breathe, like you were drowning and there was no way to come up for air. You knew it felt like a lie.

Have you ever felt like you did everything right and it still went all wrong? Like you weren’t living the life you were meant for?

You fell asleep heartbroken and tired. It hurt when you realised you weren’t as important to someone as you thought you were. Sometime late in the night or early morning, you felt Johnny slip into your bed and the feeling made your skin crawl, you felt sick. Your heart clenched in your chest before you finally fell back into a dreamless sleep.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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ozzgin · 4 months ago

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Featuring some of my OCs and their matching shark (according to me). Feel free to comment/offer your own thoughts! References used: Shark Handbook by Dr. Greg Skomal, Encyclopædia Britannica, Wikipedia. Header photo by Steve De Neef (Shortfin Mako shark) Happy Shark Week!

Yandere Yakuza Series:

Daitou: Great White shark. Big, imposing and powerful, yet terribly misunderstood. Really not as dangerous as people would think.

Kazuya: Great Hammerhead shark. Apex predator and a highly respected hunter. Stunning looks. Rarely aggressive unless provoked.

Yandere Yokai Harem:

Kiritsubo: Whale shark. Large yet completely harmless. One of the friendliest sharks.

Murasaki: Grey Reef shark. Solitary hunter, well-known for its 'threat display' when something gets too close. Otherwise tolerant of other animals around it.

Suma: Megalodon shark (extinct). Powerful predator with a bite force up to 10 times stronger than a Great White.

Yuugiri: Common Thresher shark. Beautiful and highly skilled hunter, uses its tail to herd and stun the prey.

Sakaki: Basking shark. A never-ending source of mystery. Displays a lot of bizarre, unexplained behavior. Hides into the depths in winter.

Sekiya: Tasselled wobbegong shark. Funky appearance, shy and reserved. Bottom-dweller.

Other OCs:

Bodyguard (Idol Series): Bull shark. Ferocious predator, aggressive and unpredictable.

Tig (Bad Guy): Oceanic Whitetip shark. Opportunistic and aggressive predator. Solitary. Known to stalk shipwrecks. Described by Jacques Cousteau as "the most dangerous of all sharks".

Daos (The Werewolf): Greenland shark. Ancient creature, walking history. Mysterious and secluded.

Asylum Spider (Asylum Series): Sand Tiger shark. Scary appearance and a skilled swimmer, yet harmless. Can live in captivity, so it is often kept in aquariums.

Zzy (Goat Demon): Megamouth shark. Lives in the depths, probably an annoying yapper. Precious nonetheless.

#feel free to send me shark facts and questions and we can do a shark Sunday #yandere oc #daitou #kazuya #kiritsubo #murasaki #suma #yuugiri #sakaki #sekiya #yandere bodyguard #yandere werewolf #zzy #asylum spider #shark week

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angel-of-the-moons · 1 year ago

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Cycles

Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader

TW/Content Warnings: NSFW, Smut, PIV Sex, Heat/Rut Cycles, Territorial, bit of Feral!Miguel, improper use of webs, pheromones, hormones, predator/prey dynamic if you squint, Unprotected Sex, Biting, Scratching, Bondage(?), Breeding Kink (c'mon we all know Miguel has one), established relationship, boyfriend/girlfriend, rough sex, oral sex, blowjob

MINORS DNI: I am not responsible for the content that you are about to read/consume, if you are upset by the themes in this fic, do not read it and scroll on by!

A/N: For context, you are a Spider-Woman who is one of (maybe the only) the few Spiders who have similar powers to Miguel. This is my first Miguel x Reader fic I've ever written, and my first fic ever posted here on Tumblr! (Header does not indicate reader's race)

Earth 7164. New York. Middle of summer.

The scent hit him the moment he tore through the portal. A heavy, sweet, earthy scent that flooded his whole body with a rush of adrenaline. Even the fat droplets of summer rain that fell from the dingy skyline did little to diminish that delicious, mouth watering scent.

Your scent.

His body was trembling as he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to rid himself of the tension that roped its way through his heavy muscles. His talons flexed as he gritted his teeth, each drag of his lungs pulling your scent into his body.

Miguel O'Hara was a man who would claim he had a good sense of control over his urges. He would also say he was a good boyfriend, attentive. A bit protective (some would say possessive).

But, he had been neglecting you as of late, his duties in the Spider Society and ensuring the safety of the universe had kept him away from you these past few weeks, and he almost lost track until he felt that familiar boiling of his blood, an itch that he knew could only be scratched by you.

And he knew that you would be experiencing a similar situation to him, almost parallel. In fact, he surmised you were probably the only Spider who had similar powers. The only difference was that whereas Miguel's powers were (sort of) intentional, and other Spiders were given to them after being bitten by radioactive spiders... You were born like this. They didn't know why. Hell, you didn't know why.

You had the venom (you could consciously control how much you pumped out in every bite), you had your own talons (although yours were a part of your nails, not in the pads of his fingers and toes), the wall crawling abilities, natural web-shooting...

And your cycle. At first having you around was torture on his senses when it would roll around. It would start with your scent changing; the dampness he picked up from between your legs making the blood rush straight to his dick. More often than he'd like he'd have to excuse himself to his private lab to jerk himself off until he felt some of his clarity return.

But it was always just a temporary relief. It only got worse when your breeding cycle and his rut cycle synced up, resulting in the two of you needing to almost be sedated and kept away from each other. (How Lyla kept that under wraps, Miguel never knew.)

And once your dynamic shifted and you started seeing each other, and eventually getting intimate... well. He was positive that Jess or Peter suspected what was up... Especially when he would disappear to your universe for a week or so, only to come back in a slightly better mood, small dark patches peeking out from beneath the collar of his suit, or you would be walking funny or unable to sit comfortably.

Right now, though, those thoughts were shoved to the back of his mind. The only thing he could think of was you. He could smell you, taste you in the air. This was your territory, and he... Could be considered an intruder, depending on your mood.

A male spider waltzing into a pissed off and horny female spider's web during breeding season.

Shaking his head, he took another deep drag of the air around him, the smell of the city mixing with your earthy, almost fruity tones. Your scent was faded slightly, but he could still use it to track you beneath the smog, garbage, and vehicle exhaust.

It's not like he didn't know where your apartment was... But he knew during this period of time you'd be restless, irritable, angry.

And mind-numbingly horny.

Miguel launched himself up, slinging his wrist out and using his glowing webs to propel himself in between the buildings and skyscrapers; leaping, flipping, arching through the sky in a red-and-blue blur.

He knew he was closing in on you. Your scent was all but strangling him, choking the air and what little sanity he was clinging to right out of him.

He should have known you were waiting.

Miguel was rammed into with the speed of a runaway train, the oxygen he so desperately needed ripped from his lungs as he tumbled with a roll onto the rooftop below, landing on all fours as his talons dug into the concrete and tar, leaving deep grooves as he slowed himself.

He lifted his gaze to see you land in front of him, chest heaving, body trembling.

"I have been waiting for you, for almost two weeks." You wheezed out.

"Hell of a way to greet me, querida." Miguel grunted, pulling himself to his feet.

Beneath your mask, he knew your eyes immediately dragged down to the hard bulge pressing against his suit, the hard outline of it sending a fresh throb of arousal straight to your core.

"The kick was a bit much." He said, trying to maintain a professional composure.

But his control was quickly slipping.

"Shut the fuck up."

The short rebuke didn't surprise him.

"Should have been here days ago." Miguel said, swallowing hard at the lump in his throat. "I know that. But--"

You cut him off by lunging at him, hurling your full weight onto him and pinning him down beneath you.

The heat between your legs felt like it melted through his suit, burning the skin beneath and causing a fever to spread.

You raised your fist to bring it down on his face but his reflexes allow him to catch it, gripping you like a steel vice. His other hand gripped your thigh as he planted his feet on the rooftop, rolling to pin you beneath him, his massive frame caging you in.

He squeezed your hips between his thighs, muscles tensing and twitching, breathing heavy. Your free hand reached out and clawed at him, tearing at his suit, leaving a rainbow of glitched out fabric behind, small droplets of blood rushing forth to drip down his tanned skin.

He gritted his teeth at the sensation, the sweet burn sending another wave of heat through his body that made his cock twitch.

You were past talking, past negotiating and being civil. You knew what you wanted, and you wanted it now.

You breathed heavily, gritting your teeth as Miguel gripped your thigh and forced your knee by your head, squeezing the plushest part as his face dragged down to the dark patch soaking through the fabric of your suit.

Using this new position, you kicked at him square in his chest and threw him off of you.

Before he could right himself, you rolled to your feet and jumped off the roof, shooting a web to sling you away from him.

Sure, you were horny and wanted to ride his cock til he couldn't see straight for a month. But he had been gone for weeks and you had been struggling with your own self-care, your measley silicone toys and vibrators barely able to compare with that womb-punching length that Miguel crammed into you, or his skillful and knowledgeable hands rubbing you until your eyes rolled back. But right now, you were pissed.

He wanted your pussy? He was going to have to work for it.

And if that meant playing your cat and mouse game for an hour, building the anticipation and making his cock leak; aching, desperate for a taste of you? So be it.

You played this game for a while, teasing him, getting within arms reach before yanking yourself away at the last possible second, thwarting his attempts to catch you.

Sometimes you liked to play with your food.

But all games come to an end. And this one had an abrupt ending when Miguel headed you off, tackling you to the roof of some abandoned warehouse, pinning you down on your belly, hands above your head.

"Bout fucking time I caught you. Tu pequeño bromista.." (You little tease.) He snarled, leaning down to your ear as his mask dissipated from his head, letting his wavy chocolate hair fall free, damp strands plastering themselves to his forehead.

His eyes were wild, red and glowing; pupils blown wide.

"Fuck you." You hiss, squirming under him.

"Oh, sucederá en, no te preocupes." (Oh, don't worry, it will happen.)

Miguel raised his free hand and brought it down hard on your ass, making you bite your lip to contain the mewl that tried to claw its way out of your throat.

"Look at you, now, hermosa." He sneered, his chest huffing in a small, humorless laugh. "I can fucking smell you from a mile off."

He reached down and cupped your mound, his fingers squishing slightly in the damp fabric of your suit; but once again you deny him a moan, instead biting into your lip, fangs threatening to puncture your lip.

You squirm an arm free and go to elbow him in the face, get him off of you. (Or under you.)

But he predicted that. That's what always got you going when you were in the middle of your cycle. You liked it rough.

His large hand completely encircled your elbow and forced your arm back down. Quickly, he used his glowing, laser-webs to secure your wrists together before he gripped the fabric of your suit with his talons, shredding it as he yanked you over so you were on your back.

Miguel smiled and yanked your mask off of your head, tossing it to the side before gripping your chin with his fingers, putting enough pressure to keep your eyes on his.

"Now... What should I do with you?" He said contemplatively, tapping your cheek with his index finger, making a show of thinking, his eyes dragging over the flushed features on your face, your tongue darting out to wet your dry lips.

"Ah. That's it." He grinned, his slightly askew teeth gleaming in the dark. He grips you by the front of your torn suit and pulls you to your knees as he stands.

He grips the crotch of his suit, and rips at it with his talons, the torn edges doing that kaleidoscopic glitch of colors as his cock springs free from its confines; large, twitching, angry red tip leaking in excitement.

You have to bite your tongue to keep in your little groan, your heart soaking through and dripping out through your suit.

"Hmh." He grunted, annoyed. "I'll loosen your fucking mouth. I've been keeping myself under control this whole time. But now? I'm not going to be gentle."

He gripped your hair, just shy of painful as he dragged your head to his crotch, the tip of his cock smearing his precum across your cheek.

"Chúpalo." (Suck it.)

You finally give in, your hands bound in your lap as you drag your tongue along a prominent vein in the velvety skin of his shaft, earning a deep, rumbling groan from him that you swore sent vibrations straight to your cunt, making you flutter around nothing.

You pull your head back and swirl your tongue around the tip, pulling and tugging as you lap at his slit, eagerly tasting every drop of pre he was giving you before diving in and taking the rest of his tip in your mouth, bobbing your head in a steady rhythm.

He massaged your scalp, his talons tickling the skin under your hair as he encouraged you to continue.

But you knew his calm demeanor wasn't going to last. It wasn't long before he grabbed at your hair with both hands, forcing you to choke down on his length, just shy of blocking off your airway as he fucked your face, the tension and stress from your cat and mouse game coming out as his tip kept shoving at your throat, your nose brushing the dark curly hairs at the base, his balls slapping your chin with every thrust; saliva pooling around his length as you keep your fangs pulled back as you let him use your throat like a fleshlight.

You close your jaw microscopically, fangs grazing the flesh.

"Míralo!" (Watch it!) He reprimanded, pulling your hair roughly to pull you back, his cock springing out of your lips with a wet pop, saliva connecting the tip with the soft pink muscle in your mouth like a weak bridge.

"Be a good girl." He snarled, pulling you back down on his length, barely letting you catch your breath before forcing you all the way down, tears welling up in your eyes and falling down your cheeks as you choked and gagged.

You knew exactly how to lick, suck, and tug at his cock to get the best reactions, the most delicious sounds from him.

You snuck a glance up at him, watching as he tipped his head back with a throaty groan as you greedily swallowed him down.

You moaned around him; his cock throbbed.

You felt him twitch, felt his hips sputter as he gritted his teeth.

"Fuckin' close." He snarled, looking down at you as your eyes connected with his feral ones.

You rocked your clothed cunt on your heel, trying desperately to get some friction to your aching clit. Miguel caught this motion, and held you down on his cock, choking you from not letting you ease off.

"You're not allowed to touch yourself." He said through gritted teeth, pulling your head back with a harsh tug, letting you get a gulp of air before voraciously fucking your mouth again. You obeyed his command, sitting in your slick that was dripping down and out of you, your folds puffy and neglected.

"Fuck..." He breathed heavily, he could feel that burn, that coil about to snap, his blood boiling and rushing straight to the tip of his dick as he felt his balls draw tight.

You moaned softly around him, gagging slightly before that rush of heat flooded your mouth as you worked your throat to swallow every last drop of the load he was feeding you.

Miguel panted, dragging some much needed air in his lungs as he let you pull back, hacking and coughing as your airways flooded with oxygen again. You grin maliciously and bite down on his thigh. No venom of course, but just enough to remind him you were there, earning you a sharp glare and a slap to the back of your head as you licked your lips.

He ran a hand through his hair, and it wasn't but a moment later before he yanked you to your feet, and shoved his tongue past your lips to overpower yours, tasting his cum lingering on your breath as his heavy rut-scent flooded your nose. You moaned shamelessly into the kiss, biting and tugging at each others lips until a burst of cooper flooded your mouth.

Miguel pulled away and licked at his bloody lip, before his mouth twisted into a snarl. He barreled into you, forcing you against a rooftop air-conditioning unit.

His hand reached down as he ripped at your suit, your breasts bouncing free.

Of course you weren't wearing a fucking bra. Probably no panties either. Because you were just that fucking horny and desperate.

He leaned down and took one of your pebbling nipples in his mouth, biting and sucking roughly as you push your head back against the unit, the metal bumping as you do, a strangled cry coming from you.

He pulled back, before delving back down and putting the same torture on your other tit. This time however he pulled back, biting down on the marshmallowy flesh, making you mewl out as his tongue laves over the mark he made.

"Miguel!" You snarl, thrashing your leg to kick at him, your frustration and neglect finally getting to you.

Miguel caught your flailing lim and forced it up, pinning it against the air-conditioning unit with another shot of his webs, before securing your already bound hands with more, above your head.

He pressed his forehead against yours, his hot and heavy breath ghosting over your sweaty skin, before his hands once again swiped and gripped at your cunt, pawing at it like a cat kneading a blanket.

Miguel lazily dragged two fingers torturously slow up your slit, before punching your clit hard through the fabric.

"You've been misbehaving... But I know you're just going to keep acting out until I give you what you want." Miguel sneered into your ear.

You whimpered, arching into his touch as he pulled away, making a frustrated sob at the lack of contact.

You nearly had the air punched out of your lungs when Miguel dropped to his knees, inhaling the scent of your soaked pussy like it was a drug he needed a hit of. He opened his mouth and dragged his tongue up the soaked fabric, before latching on and sucking.

Now this was new. Getting eaten out through the fabric of your clothes. There was too much contact but somehow not enough as he rutted his nose at your clit, sucking more at your folds drawing more of your slick through the fabric.

You thrashed against his webs, trying so hard to roll your hips and fuck his face, but with the way you were pinned, you were at his mercy, especially when he hoisted your free leg over his shoulder. He pressed two fingers against your covered hole as he furiously suckled your clit.

Your orgasm crashed into you so hard you couldn't even manage a scream, your mouth just hung open on a silent cry, eyes rolling back as a fresh gush of slick leaked through your suit.

Miguel smiled against you and tore your suit's crotch open, and you shivered as the humid, summer air made contact with your slick and creamy folds. You barely had a second to realize what was happening before Miguel plunged back in, his nose rutting your clit once more as I sucked at your cream, your slick covering his chin.

Miguel was the best sexual partner you ever had, he knew exactly how to eat you out to the point you lost your voice without even using it.

Just as your second orgasm was creeping up on you, he pulled his mouth away, wiping his face clean with the back of his hand and licking his chops like a dog eyeing a juicy stake.

His cock bobbed against his stomach as he stood, a steady stream of precum dribbling out of the tip and to the ground below.

He pulled your free leg to wrap around his waist as he slid the underside of his cock against your puffy cunt.

Miguel bit down on your shoulder, hard as he forced himself into you with one brutal thrust, pushing the air out of your lungs as he punched your guts through your womb with his cock, spearing you wide as he set a rapid, relentless pace for the both of you.

You uttered breathless pleas, praises, and incoherent mumblings with each thrust; the two of you grunting and moaning in each others ears like rabid animals, Miguel's cock slamming home into your pussy, squelching, dripping, the slap of skin and hips colliding filling the very atoms around you.

Your body screamed, cried, ached for him to fuck you, fill you up to the brim.

Miguel's tip crammed against your cervix in such a brutal way that you swore he bullied himself into your womb with every thrust. It was a blossoming pain that bled into pleasure, quickly bringing you back to the edge of your second orgasm that he had denied you.

"That's it, baby." Miguel snarled in your ear. "Ah... So tight for me. You want me?"

You nodded, whimpering and sobbing into his shoulder.

"Want me to fuck you til you can't walk for a week? Stretch you til all you can think of is my cock?" He said, his voice edging on a gleeful tone as he pants, turning his head and licking at the sweat on your neck.

"Want me to fucking breed you?"

You bite into his shoulder at that, whimpering as his suit glitches around your fangs and you lick at the blood welling up.

He hissed, and his pace became frantic, almost angry as he reaches down and pinches your clit like before, and your orgasm comes flooding through every blood vessel in your body as you jerk mindlessly against him, your pussy crushing down on him, milking him for everything he can give you.

He moans loudly in your ear, snapping his hips up into yours, balls slapping your ass as you cry out, sobs wracking your chest as your vision blurs and the tension rips out of you.

You whimper, and hiccup against him when he forces himself into you one last time, his tip kissing that oh so lovely spot inside as he pumps his heavy and sticky load deep inside your pussy, dripping out of you with each jagged thrust as he fucks you through his orgasm.

When Miguel's hips still, his hand pets at your hair as he kisses your jaw, nipping the skin there as he slices the webs holding your legs and hands up.

"Mmmmh. I needed that." Miguel sighed into your hair.

You grunted in response, your fists gripping at his suit as you pull him down for a hungry and toothy kiss.

"Take me home and fuck me." You demanded.

All Miguel could do was smile, and carry you back to your apartment. The real trick was keeping his cock sheathed inside of you as he swung from building to building, trying to avoid anybody who may have a camera phone...

But honestly? You didn't care.

However...

The two of you did care, a few weeks later.

When two little pink lines appeared on the stick in your hand.

"Fuck."

#miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel O'Hara x you #my writing #spiderverse smut #smut

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cacoetheswriting · 8 months ago

Text

celebrity skin. (part eight)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 5.2k summary: a reconciliation in New York leads to a rediscovery of not-so-hidden feelings and answers to previously avoided questions — plus more.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, post-breakup emotional hurt / comfort, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of blackmail, & kinda rough smut (unprotected p in v sex) — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

One thing Eddie had been absolutely sure of: Stevie Nicks was right.

The trip to New York City was carried out solely on a whim. A gut feeling that the brunette rockstar could not quite shake. He had to see you, despite the possible consequences, and Eddie was smart enough to know there would be a lot. He acted like an ass and whether you would admit it or not, he knew he broke your heart.

Ever since his rise to fame, the Corroded Coffin frontman felt this bubble around him. A bubble created by his team, his band, his past, and his own disruptive behaviour — don’t do drugs was a warning he witnessed (and ignored) many times on posters too colourful for the subject matter, plastered on the walls of Hawkins High. Seemingly, the bubble protected Eddie from predators. Leeches that wanted to take advantage of his fame. Unfortunately, the bubble also shielded him from love.

Love.

If the rockstar wasn’t so afraid of the feeling as a result of that bubble, perhaps he would have made different choices in all of his past relationships. Most importantly, perhaps Eddie would have made different choices in the one relationship that’s meant more to him than any other. If he wasn’t so afraid of love, and being in love, perhaps he would’ve fought to be with you a little harder.

And love is definitely how Eddie would describe what he felt towards you. Correction. Feels towards you to this very day. Maybe more, if that was possible considering he hasn’t seen you in months.

So yes, Stevie Nicks was right. The concept of Silver Springs was right.

Seeing you again only affirmed that belief. Talking to you again, witnessing your smile for the first time in months… Well, Eddie never wanted to be apart from you for longer than he already had been. Unfortunately, that wasn’t up to him. Not for as long as your grandmother had her claw all up in your business and stuck her nose where it did not belong.

“So, what happens now?” The rockstar asks, only slightly afraid of the answer.

You hum under your breath, taking a moment to think, gathering your own thoughts. The sun is slowly rising in the distance, so the first response that comes to mind is that you should go home, and Eddie should go back to his hotel, Max’s place, or wherever the hell he’s been staying, before this place starts crawling with people. That would mean saying goodbye for lord knows how long and you were just starting to get comfortable with being around the rockstar again, although, not like that was insanely hard. Whatever. Simply, you didn’t want to say goodbye.

“We could go get breakfast,” you finally say.

Eddie smirks. “As much as like that idea, sweetheart, I didn’t really mean now in the full sense of the word.”

You laugh softly.

“Okay, hotshot.” Turning your head back to look at Eddie, you raise a brow. “What do you think should happen?”

The rockstar smacks his lips together before resting his elbow on one of his knees and bringing his thumb to his mouth. A nervous tick.

“Putting whatever reason I came here for aside, starting over seems like a bad idea since we’ve done that once before and it didn’t really end the way either of us hoped,” he says after a beat of silence, avoiding your gaze.

“Yeah,” you exhale, “Bad idea. Plus you said so yourself, you’re not the relationship type. Getting back together would be redundant.”

“Right,” Eddie agrees quietly, although he really doesn’t want to.

There’s another moment of silence. Nothing but the sound of morning birds chirping melodically and wind gust hitting the water ahead. In the quiet, there is solace. In the quiet, Eddie doesn't have to answer difficult questions or have conversations neither of you really wants to have. A blissful ignorance of what’s really happening here.

He still loves you. You most likely still love him.

It’s all just terrible timing for two people who are — in his mind, at least — made for eachother, but for one reason or the other, can’t be together. Not in this lifetime. Not with people controlling what they can or cannot do. Not with the whole world watching their every move. It hurt. Hurt that a life you both chose was also the life that’s actively destroying something good.

“We could try being friends?” Eddie offers eventually, looking at you then.

You smile. “Friends. I think I like that.”

Holly is the only person you’re fully comfortable talking to about all of this. She listens, actively nodding along as you spew your thoughts and feelings out loud, until the rambles become too hard to follow. Holly, ever the best friend that she’s always been, places her perfectly manicured hands on your shoulders and gives your body one shake to get you back on track when the story becomes a little too convoluted. And this one is all over the place.

There’s the run in at Saks, the meeting with Max, the plan, the date with Steve, all that leads to Eddie Munson banging on your front door until you let him inside. There’s the emotionally heightened conversation that doesn’t really amount to much. The dinner with your family that opened things up to questions from your nosh sisters and scrutiny from your Nana. Then there was Coney Island.

You pause.

It’s messy, for sure, and your feelings are all over the place as you recount each and every minor detail, which leads you to why you invited her over in the first place: what the fuck do you do about Eddie Munson?

Holly usually gives you advice. Parts of which you want to hear and take on board, parts of which you both know will be ignored. This time however, as you do your best to explain what’s been on your mind — and heart — since the rockstar arrived in New York, this time Holly doesn’t know what to say.

“I don’t know if I should forgive him.”

“Jeff says he’s been, like, super sullen all summer long. Locked in that house of his, or at the studio, working on shit he won’t let the band see.”

“That’s supposed to make it easier for me to do what, exactly? He’s secretive, that’s for sure. Hiding stuff from his band, from his sister, from me…”

You reach for the packet of smokes that Holly brought with her and light one, hand shaking ever so slightly.

“I got virtually nothing from him that night in my apartment. Slightly more under the Wonder Wheel, but still not enough to understand why he did what he did,” you exhale a puff of smoke, “Yet I can’t help but think that despite everything, especially ignoring the weeks I spent in bed because of him, we’re like meant for each other, you know?”

Holly too lights a cigarette. She also doesn’t answer you.

“That’s kinda pathetic, no?”

“I think until you get the entire truth, it won’t matter whether you get back with him or just be his friend, or whatever, ‘cause you’re not going to be fully happy. Not really,” she explains, avoiding your question because there’s close to nothing worse than admitting to your friend that they’ve lost it completely.

“So I should confront him?”

“Jeff says Eddie doesn’t do well with confrontations.”

You groan. Head falling back on the cushioned sofa.

“Maybe I should just fuck him,” you think out loud, “Get all this frustration out and then just move on with my life.”

Holly laughs. “Just don’t let him finish,” she says, “Karma’s a bitch, and whatnot.”

New York City is your favourite place on Earth.

Despite your years of extensive travel to tour your various albums or attend different global award shows, New York, your home, has always been top of the list. Elegant, albeit slightly messy. Organised, although a little rowdy. It’s colourful, but dull. Full of people from every corner of the world, which only added to its pre-existing charm. You didn’t really think it was possible to fall in love with it even more until you’ve started to explore it all over again with none other than Eddie Munson — under a new guise of something called friendship.

The rockstar decided to extend his trip. Currently, there is no return date. Exploring New York became the only thing on his agenda.

The two of you did your best to stay under the radar, away from prying eyes. Although, not like it was necessarily needed as Eddie’s idea of sight seeing involved bar hopping. Old-ish, rather shitty places that have definitely seen better days, but Eddie, he was like a kid in a candy store. With every beer poured and every bowl of peanuts shared, he lit up more and more.

“They remind me of home,” he finally explains, two days into your NYC adventure. “Of Hawkins.”

You smile at him, but don’t say anything.

“What?” Eddie asks when he notices the look, mouth now full after taking another handful of the perhaps hundredth packet of peanuts the two of you have shared over the last few days.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, swirling the gold-ish liquid inside your beer bottle, “I guess it’s just nice that some small part of my home reminds you of your home.”

Eddie returns the fond expression. Friends is good, he thinks at that moment while catching another peanut with his mouth, not ideal, but good.

“There was this bar,” he says, leaning across the table so that he could be a little closer to you, “The Hideout. Our first venue, outside of Gareth’s garage, and the only place in my crappy hometown where I didn’t feel like an outsider.”

“Places like the Hideout, places like this.” Eddie swirls his finger in the air to show he means your current location, “They’ll always have a special place in my heart, I guess. They’re a part of me. Part of Corroded Coffin history.”

He stares at you for a minute. He’d never share this much with a friend, so perhaps this new concept you’ve both found yourselves in is not as good as the rockstar would like to think. “We could try being friends?” — Eddie’s second guessing his suggestion just as fast as he came up with it.

“We should see more of your home,” he finally states, “As much as I love them, I think we’ve seen all the dingy bars New York has to offer, so I’m open to suggestions.”

You bring the beer bottle to your lips and take a slow sip of the now semi-warm liquid, pondering his request.

Where could you take Eddie that would represent your love for New York. The Statue of Liberty seems a little basic, as does Times Square — especially since you’ve both performed there in the past. Rockefeller Centre to see the street performers? The Met, even though both of you will most likely be invited next year to the exhibit. In reality, all of the touristy spots like Central Park, for example, would be a little too crowded for either of you to feel safe and remain unseen.

Then your eyes glisten with an idea.

What’s more homey than a home itself: Cove City Sound Studios.

To any average person, it was just another recording studio found in New York. One of hundreds. To you however, it was heaven on earth.

Located in Glen Cove, New York, Cove City Sound Studios had been home to many artists before you came along. A lot of albums were recorded here. A lot of number one hits — the list of which you were lucky to join more than once.

You always thought the ambiance of this place fueled your creativity. Often said the reason behind your resounding success was because you got the opportunity to record here. Of course Holly, Val, and especially your Nana, corrected you every time those words had left your lips. “You’re the reason behind your success,” your Nana would affirm, “Not some recording studio.”.

But you knew. Felt it deep within your bones. Cove City Sound Studios was magic.

“Damn,” Eddie mutters under his breath, fingers gently running across the various buttons as his doe-eyes dart across the posters on the wall — one of which features your 1985 album cover (a record once hidden under Eddie’s bed back in Hawkins).

“Here I thought the place we recorded Honesty in was impressive,” he admits, “This though, this is another level.”

A smile circles your lips.

“Welcome to my home, Eddie Munson.”

The rockstar dips his head, sort of in a way of a little bow, and smiles so wide it makes your insides flutter. Friends, friends, friends. You repeat inside your mind, same thing Eddie is doing, although neither of you are aware. Friends hiding their true feelings.

“I’m honoured, sweetheart.” Eddie adds, placing a ring-clad hand on his heart.

“As you should be,” you tease and walk past him, pushing open a door into the vocal booth.

The Corroded Coffin frontman follows you with zero to no hesitation. He watches as you slowly circle the small room before standing in front of a microphone, adjusting it to your height.

“I recorded every single one of my songs here apart from Honesty,” you reveal without looking at him. Focusing instead on tightening the metal rod in place. “Hundreds of records that will probably never see the light of day because my label doesn’t think they are good enough.”

Eddie snorts. “As if you could make something that wasn’t deemed good. We wrote shit together, remember? I know how good you are.”

Your lips twist into a timid smile and glance up at him from your lashes. “I appreciate that Eds, but unfortunately the industry doesn’t work that way and you, of all people, should understand.”

“Well, yeah, but doesn’t your grandmother have some sort of special power to get you whatever the fuck you want.”

It’s your turn to snort. “She may be resourceful, but she’s got no control over my management team. Even if she likes to think she does, the only real ability my Nana possesses is tell me what to wear and how to act.”

Eddie nods, taking note of this information. Knowledge he can use to free himself from deceit, blackmail.

Valuable insight into the evil woman that ruined his life since, as you’ve now so beautifully explained, she’s not nearly as formidable as she presented herself to be. A light at the end of the tunnel.

“Perhaps that’s why I can’t bring myself to listen to it,” you say, breaking Eddie away from his thoughts.

“What?”

“Perhaps that’s why I can’t bring myself to listen to Honesty. Because I didn’t record it here.” Nothing to do with the fact that it’s soiled by the memory of the last morning we saw each other, you think, clearly lying to yourself, and him.

Eddie swallows his breath. A twinge of guilt rushes through him. Actually, more than a twinge. A gush, like a waterfall out of control. He’s sure of it now. The two of you could never be just friends. Not until you knew the whole truth about why he did what he did and now that he knew your grandmother had a weakness in her armour, perhaps offering you the truth is something he could do sooner rather than later.

“Then maybe we should change that,” Eddie offers and proceeds to quickly shuffle out of the room, leaving you alone for a second.

You watch through the glass separating the two spaces as he scans the buttons, hands on his hips, tip of his tongue out to indicate he’s thinking. He looks cute and you fail to conceal a smile, so you opt to hang your head and stare at your shoes because you can’t afford to think he’s any sort of desirable. Just friends.

After taking a moment to familiarise himself with a new system, Eddie finds what he’s looking for and switches it on, before hurrying back to stand next to you.

“Ready?”

“Ready,” you affirm while putting a pair of headphones on.

For the next four minutes and twenty-two seconds, you get lost in the chocolate of Eddie’s eyes as you once again sing the song he wrote about you.

“Honestly, you got me fallin’ to my knees

It’s like ecstasy, this feelin’ inside of me

Let’s call it honesty”

Cove City Sound Studios creates magic. You’ve always believed it and now it’s only been affirmed because the way your voice melts with his — no band, no distractions — is nothing short of perfection.

“You’re a devil in disguise

No, that’s what I want you to be

‘Cause in reality, hon’, you’re a hypnotic dream

An angel for sure

To a non-believer like me

Oh honesty, what have you done to me, honestly”

That’s why the song was a hit in the first place. Now you understand why your management team pushed you to do this collaboration in the first place. Magic. And as Eddie draws the last syllable without breaking eye contact, you’re transported back to the night you met. The night that inspired this song.

The night that started all of this.

His mind wanders to the same moment, same place, same spot. Friendship is a word that no longer makes sense, but the rockstar doesn’t want to ruin anything (again), so he drops the headphones and exits the booth without saying anything.

You follow him with your gaze. A feeling of longing spreads through you faster than you know what to do with it. It’s unfortunately accompanied by fear because you’re not stupid, far from it. Eddie’s hurt you twice before. Going back in only to get burned a third time would be a grave mistake and you know better than to go down that road again. ‘Cause you do know better, right?

Then this morning’s conversation with Holly enters your mind. Your best friend was right. You could never be happy around him if you didn’t know the truth.

“Eddie, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think if you didn’t end things when you did, we’d still be together? Or do you think we were doomed regardless?”

He takes a moment to answer. Avoiding looking up through the glass to meet your curious gaze, anxious for an answer.

“I already told you.” His deep voice eventually booms through the speakers. “I’m not the relationship type.”

“Bullshit,” you’re quick to state. It comes out harsher than intended.

“Sweetheart—” He’s shaking his head, still without looking at you.

“No, don’t you fucking dare,” you interrupt, suddenly feeling deflated by this whole situation, defeated in the fight against your feelings towards him. “Like I said before, you don’t get to sweetheart me and give me some bullshit vague answer.”

Eddie’s eyes are now closed. He’s hoping if he shows how he wants no part of this conversation — not right now, not before he gets to speak to your management and then offers you up the truth — that you will let it go. Like you did that night in Coney Island and those last few days too. You seemingly let it go and everything was okay. Fucking friends.

“I gave in too quickly. Into your presence. I missed you so much that when you showed up at my door, it didn’t matter how angry or heartbroken I was. All that mattered was seeing you again and being around you again. But I should’ve stood my ground.”

You’re now standing right in front of the glass window. Arms hanging by your side, nails digging into your palms to pump the adrenaline that’s fueling this fight.

“No matter how many times you tell me that you’re not the relationship type, I won’t believe you. I refuse to believe you because that guy I met in an empty kitchen of a Hidden Hills mansion was looking for something more than a random hook up. He may not have said it, but he proved it with his actions,” you continue your reasonings, “He craved something meaningful. I saw it in the way he smiled every time his eyes met mine, and sensed it in the way he held me close.”

Then you exhale.

“That guy, although hiding behind a mask of an arrogant dickhead, he wanted to be loved and Jesus Christ did I—”

Eddie’s gaze snaps to you then, widening.

“But if I got it all wrong,” you continue after a few seconds, “If I misunderstood that guy and what he really wanted, then all I need is for him to be straight with me,” you conclude, “No bullshit excuses, Eddie. If you simply didn’t like me, if you simply didn’t care, just say that and we can both carry on with our lives as if nothing ever happened.”

The door slams. Eddie stands in front of you in a flash, brown eyes holding onto yours with force. He’s agitated. He runs a hand down his face before reaching for your shoulders, then dropping his arms back by his side just as fast.

“I cared, of course I cared!” He exhales to compose himself before continuing, “I still care.” It’s barely a whisper.

“Then why?”

“I-I… Well, I just…”

His mind is racing to find the right answer. The truth is what you’re after, unfortunately that’s the one thing he can’t give you yet. Not if he wants to continue witnessing your success. Because, at the end of the day, his own fame and fortune is no longer important. He could care less if it burned to the ground. Your fame however, your fortune, that’s not something Eddie’s willing to gamble. So again, until he can speak to your management, get ahead of your grandmother’s scheming, the truth will remain sealed.

At least some part of it.

“There was this girl. Back home.” Eddie begins, voice shaky, “Before you, she was the only girl that ever saw me for who I really was.”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” you say her name.

Eddie nods.

“Yeah, Chrissy,” he repeats the name. It tastes a little foreign on his tongue after all this time. “Seemingly the classic cheerleader type, you know? Blonde, preppy, always fucking smiling. But Chrissy, she uh… she was far from just a cheerleader. Like me, she was a little misunderstood and that’s what initially brought us together.”

“What happened to her?” You ask. “You keep saying ‘was’. Chrissy was, as if she’s no longer—”

“Look, sweetheart,” Eddie interrupts, “I-I don’t really talk about her. I don’t like to. Too many bad memories.”

“Right,” you murmur, nodding slowly.

“Long story short, I cared for her and it didn’t end well, so when my care for you started to surpass that feeling… I just got scared.”

“Then why not tell me about her in the first place?” You query, “We could’ve talked it out. Pumped the brakes on whatever our relationship was starting to become.”

Eddie doesn’t mean to, but he scoffs. “And then what, huh? Just tip-toe around how we’re actually feeling until that builds resentment? Then it just ends anyway, but it hurts a lot more, no?”

He’s running a hand through his wild locks. Frustrated wouldn’t be the right word. Annoyed feels borderline the same. Angry, yes, but not at you. Angry at the world for introducing such a perfect character into his otherwise shitty life because he’d be better off without you. No. You’d be better off without him? Also no. Jesus Christ, he’s fucking confused.

“That’s what you asked. If I didn’t end things, would we still be together. The truth is, sweetheart, I don’t know because I attract bad shit and people get hurt and… And I need you to be happy, with or without me.”

Silence falls upon the two of you. It’s heavy with the half-truths that were just revealed. Heavy with the underlying tones that are telling you Eddie still cares, and telling him that so do you — more than either of you were willing to admit back then, and even less now.

And there’s definitely feelings there. They bubbled up the second you laid your eyes on him again and as your few days together passed without a major blowout, they only grew stronger — something you explained to Holly, who said that Eddie was so unlike you, it only made sense to feel something towards him. Love him, even.

Perhaps the hurt was worth it.

“Oh, fuck.”

“What?” Eddie’s brows string together as you momentarily glance at your feet before settling your gaze back on the rockstar.

“Guess we were never supposed to do this right.”

“What?” Eddie asks again.

“You said that to me. Back in LA after that picture of us was leaked to the press, remember?”

“Vaguely,” he answers.

“What if you were right?” You ask, tone a little quieter than seconds prior.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m not sure I’m following.”

Decided on your next move, in what you want to happen, you take a step towards the Corroded Coffin frontman so that the tips of your heels are touching his loosely tied Converse. You then place a hand on his chest, albeit hesitantly, and Eddie inhales a sharp breath (loud enough for you to hear).

“What if all of this, everything that happened between us, is because we were never meant to do this right in the first place, Eds?”

A timid smile circles your lips as the question you asked settles in the air. Loaded full of uncertainty for the future and everything that time ahead holds for the two of you. Your Nana would say that a person of your stature shouldn’t give into uncertainty, something that in Eddie’s case was often repeated by Marianne. Everything is always meticulously planned. No room for error because uncertainty leads to mistakes and those are a nightmare for your respective PR teams. Unfortunately for those teams, uncertainty is what drew you to each other in the first place.

That, and insane fucking attraction.

“I did come here because I regret my decision,” he says while you say, “I miss you.” Both come out at the same time. Mumbled, jumbled together. It registers though.

Without giving it a second thought, Eddie dips his head lower while his hands reach for your face, ring-clad fingers now holding your cheeks. In that same breath, his lips crash against yours in a yearning kiss — one that is fuelled by months of pent up tension and a desire you both shared since your first meeting back in August of ‘92.

It's a dance of fire. One that is burning bigger and brighter with every second his mouth is attached to yours. Dangerous, would be a good word to describe this moment, but the line has been crossed yet again and since there’s definitely no going back now, your fingers tangle themselves in his brown locks as you push your body closer. Eddie also gets braver. He bites down on your bottom lip and when you gasp ever so softly, the rockstar slides his tongue in with ease.

You feel elated. This is exactly what you’ve been missing and by the way Eddie’s tongue twirls within your mouth, hands squishing your face, afraid to let go, you know it’s what he’s been missing too.

It’s destructive, for sure. But the hurt is worth it. You know that now. You feel it. Every single fibre of your being grows more and more alive as Eddie presses into you further, as he caresses your skin with so much tenderness. And you’re beyond cloud nine. Beyond touching heaven. It’s destructive, but it’s bliss.

“If we keep kissing like this,” he whispers against your lips, forehead pressing against yours, “I’m afraid I won’t be able to contain myself.”

“Who says you have to?”

Eddie groans against your jawline before continuing to trail soft pecks along your skin until he reaches your ear, biting it gently.

“We should probably talk about what this means,” he says, but you just shake your head. “‘Cause friends don’t kiss like that, sweetheart.”

“I don’t care about that now, Eds.” You affirm, sure of what you want. Sure that you don’t ever want to forget him or move on. He is a part of you, forever. “I just want you.”

And with that your lips finds his again.

The kiss is feverish, messy. You’re tugging at each other’s clothes, desperately trying to get them out of the way as fast as possible. In an attempt to be even closer, propelled by an indescribable urge, Eddie shifts your positions so that his back is the one to the room, you’re by the wall, and mere seconds later, your back is pressed firmly against his chest.

His strong hands send shivers through your body as they make their way down until they reach your panties, skirt long disregarded, a garment on the floor. He no longer hesitates about what this means, ripping the material down before his feet are kicking your legs apart. Ring-clad fingers slide along the curve of your ass, kneading the flesh, desperate to feel you. All of you. And as one hand works to unzip his pants, the other works its way to your wet entrance, feeling along your slit.

“Please, please…” The excitement causes you to grow warm and moist in his hand.

He can’t contain himself. Removing his hand in a rapid manner, he pushes his cock inside of your starved pussy. You close your eyes at the contact and Eddie begins to fuck you, hard. Rhythm picks up rapidly and you’re clenching around him in a matter of minutes, lower muscles seizing at the contact they’ve long forgotten, but were now more than pleasantly reminded of.

“God,” he groans, “I fucking missed you.”

The moan that escapes your lips is nothing short of pornographic. It’s a direct response to his words, as well as his actions. He’s pounding into you relentlessly. There’s no time for pleasantries or any sort of softness. This is all about fulfilling a need-based desire and you’re more than willing to comply, high on his voice when he praises “Fuck, baby”, and “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.”

When you feel his hands grip your hips, you moan his name. Loud, pathetic. Undone. The rockstar begins to bounce you against him. Your knees weaken and you fall back onto him, head now resting on his shoulder, losing yourself completely in the moment and the pure ecstasy that you’re feeling. The pleasure is almost too much for you.

“Eddie, I’m so close,” you whisper, looking up at him through your lashes.

The Corroded Coffin frontman captures your mouth with his. Short, but far from sweet is the kiss. Hungry and devilish. He bites your bottom lip as he pulls away, drawing just a prick of blood.

“Let go for me, baby.”

When you do, obeying his request, your whole body shivers harshly in his embrace. Eddie keeps going, only his pace has slowed. He’s whispering sweet-nothings into your ear, continuously praising you for being his good girl, and you promise yourself that no matter what happens next, you’re going to be that forever.

The high soon ends and Eddie pushes you forward gently. You then feel the rockstar’s cock leave you, warm cum spurting over your ass without warning. You’re delighting in the feeling of his juices on your skin. He delights in it too, trailing his fingers over your rear until you turn around to face him.

There’s a smile on your face. Devious, yet benevolent.

Yes, Eddie thinks, Stevie Nicks was definitely right. ‘You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you.’ Not like he’d ever want to anyway.

thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie, @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @ohmeg - (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #celebrity skin.#rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie smut

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kwanisms · 1 year ago

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The Library of Illusion — the Restricted Section (finale)

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➮ incubus!Hongjoong × fem!Reader wc: 9.6k (I'm tired. You didn't see that lol) summary: After obtaining the final key and incapacitating the Keeper of the Keys, Y/N finally enters the Restricted Section, hoping to find the famed treasure and access her freedom but instead funds something much darker and more sinister awaiting her. genres/themes/au: angst, smut; fantasy, horror, supernatural, biblical & demonic; non idol au, demon au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, demonic themes, predator-prey dynamics, pierced & tattooed!Joong, Hongjoong is a demon (he has horns, demon eyes, and other attributes like hoofed feet, a tail, sharp teeth, forked tongue, etc.), sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @seonghwalover @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe @prestineaugstine @sunwoosbaby @lilramennoodle @deadgirlwalking3

special tags: @thelargefrye @hwasangelbaby @yourfatherlucifer

ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @flowerboykun @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny @ateezstanforever @justiny @jeongwangjessmina @lacie220900 @aaaaajonghooooo @dementedaly @rangerobbie @yunhosmelonbar

join my taglists! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

a/n: the restricted section is supposed to be taboo subjects, which is why I went in this direction. Of course, if you aren't not comfortable with these subjects, do not read this piece. You can always read the beginning for the lore but there will come a point where there's no return so to speak. Thank you so much for joining me for this journey and for reading my works. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. Header and banners made by me. Adult content & reblog banners made by me with a template made by @cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All my writings are ©️ kwanisms.

TW: THERE ARE HEAVY DUBCON & NONCON THEMES IN THE BEGINNING. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. I will include a warning before the dubcon and noncon again. You have been warned and will be warned again.

smut warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it, especially if you're gonna fuck a demon lol), use of pet names (sweetheart, angel, princess, slut, etc), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), rough sex, dacryphilia, big dick!Joong, demon cock!Joong, choking kink, breeding kink, forced orgasm, Joong has an oral fixation, impact play (mainly spanking), Joong has a tongue ring, mention of blood during sex. I think I got all of them but let me know if I missed any!

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“Welcome to my home.”

You stared at the man before you, eyes glancing up at the horns protruding from his forehead. Your eyes continued to look him over, trailing down to his exposed stomach, noticing black ink decorating his skin. You hadn’t noticed he was watching you watch him with an amused grin

“Hasn’t anyone told you that it’s impolite to stare?”

Your breath caught in your throat as he crossed the distance between you in seconds, leaning into look even closer as you stumbled backwards. He let out a dark chuckle.

“Someone’s shy,” he whispered. “You weren’t this shy before,” he added.

You narrowed your eyes. “B-before?” you stammered. Hongjoong sighed, closing his eyes as he rolled his shoulders before opening his eyes again to look at you.

“Never mind that,” he murmured. “As I’ve explained, this is my library and it’s my home. You, mere mortal, have wandered into my home,” he started to explain, slowly starting to circle you, keeping his eyes trained on you.

Almost as if he were a predator and you were his prey.

“Why are you here?” he asked suddenly. “I—” you hesitated. Hongjoong waited for you to speak, tilting his head to one side. “Are you here to find the treasure?” he asked softly. You shook your head, closing your mouth quickly.

Hongjoong’s head tilted the opposite way, like a puppy. “Are you perhaps looking for… satisfaction?”

Your heart skipped a beat, your stomach lurching. ‘How does he know that?’

Hongjoong’s curious expression morphed into another mischievous grin, like he had a secret or knew the answer to something you didn’t.

“This is my library,” he reminded you. “I know everything that goes on in here.”

“Like Seonghwa?” you asked, noticing the way Hongjoong’s smile fell.

“No,” he said, all amusement gone from his voice. “Seonghwa’s vision is limited. He may be able to see what happens in the sections, but he cannot see into this one. Only I can truly see and hear everything,” he explained, continuing to circle.

You fell silent, following Hongjoong with your eyes, only turning your head when he left your line of sight. He continued to slowly circle you before speaking up again.

“Have you found what you’ve been looking for, little lamb?” he asked. “Have you found satisfaction?” You shook your head silently, keeping your eyes on him. “You haven’t?” Hongjoong asked, stopping in his tracks. “After all those lovers? Are you truly that insatiable?” he asked, a smirk spreading over his face again.

You shook your head again. “That’s not the satisfaction I meant,” you answered, your voice meek and small. Hongjoong’s smirk grew. “It’s not?”

You nodded as he resumed circling. “I didn’t set out to find this place only to fuck multiple men,” you added. Hongjoong snorted. “Only two of them were men,” he answered. “The other five were monsters.”

You felt heat settling in the pit of your stomach as well as rising to your cheeks. “I hardly think monster is an appropriate term,” you retorted, drawing his attention. “Sure, they might not have been human,” you continued.

“But they weren’t awful.”

Hongjoong let out a laugh this time. “That’s not what I meant by monsters, sweetheart,” he explained. The alien and the elf are one thing,” he continued. “But the jorogumo? The vampire? The naga? Those are all bestial creatures. Sure they’re part men but they’re mostly driven by animal instinct. Even that alien is driven by pure instinct.”

You watched him as he continued. “And despite not looking for that satisfaction, you seemed to leave each section satisfied.” You narrowed your eyes before scoffing. “Because I managed to obtain the keys,” you explained. “The sexual aspect was unintended.”

Hongjoong let out another deep chuckle.

“If that’s the case,” he started, stopping to turn and face you. “Then why did you keep accepting their advances?”

Your words failed you as you were faced with the truth of his inquiries. Why did you keep accepting the advances of each guardian? You could have easily killed for the keys. All encounters seemed to have one common denominator.

You easily, and in some cases willingly, gave into the carnal pleasure. Why?

You tried to wrack your brain for any reason but found none. ‘Why did I agree to have sex with all of them?’

Wooyoung, Mingi, and Seonghwa had all mentioned their venom being an aphrodisiac so that could easily explain your behavior but what about Yunho? Or Jongho? Or Yeosang? Or San? What was the excuse? What was the explanation?

Looking up, you decided on one thing. It didn’t matter.

You did what you had to, reminding yourself you needed each key to get to this point. To access the restricted section so you could escape the Library of Illusion.

“Does it matter?” you finally asked, trying to keep your voice steady. Hongjoong tilted his head, a playful expression on his face. “Does it matter? No,” he said softly. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

You nodded once. “Exactly. I did what I had to, I gathered the keys, all to escape this place. I want to leave and return home.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrow raised. “Without the treasure?” he asked. You exhaled a deep sigh. “I’ve never wanted the treasure,” you admitted. “I came here to find knowledge, see what my parents were so keen to find. And I’ve found nothing of importance.”

Hongjoong’s smile fell, replaced with a scowl. “Nothing of importance?” he snapped. “Is that what you think?” You took a step backwards as he glared at you with an intensity you hadn’t been prepared for.

“You think your experiences aren’t important?”

You shook your head. “Had I not come here, I wouldn’t have had to do those things to escape. I expected to find something of note. Some kind of knowledge or something of great historical importance. Like the Library of Alexandria,” you explained. “But instead, I found a magical library full of horny creatures and men!”

Hongjoong bared his teeth before relaxing and standing up straighter. “Fine,” he finally spat. “If all you desire is to escape,” he continued. “You may do so.”

You stared blankly at him. “Just like that?” you asked.

Hongjoong scoffed. “Of course not,” he answered.

“You still have to find your way out of here,” he explained. “I’m going to give you a head start,” he explained. “A head start? What for?” you asked softly. Hongjoong smiled at you, the points of his fangs barely visible.

“I’m going to count down from fifteen,” he explained. “You have fifteen seconds to find your way out.” You felt a shiver run up your spine. “And what happens when fifteen seconds are up?” you asked in a quiet voice.

The smile on Hongjoong’s face widened. “Then I start hunting.”

Your stomach dropped, heart skipping a beat. “W-what?”

Hongjoong tilted his head, an eyebrow raising as he stared at you.

“You think I’m going to make it easy for you?” he asked, an amused tone in his voice. “You have fifteen seconds to get as far as you can before I start hunting you down.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat before speaking, your voice cracking.

“And if you c-catch me?”

Hongjoong’s eyes glazed over. “Satisfaction,” he bit back, smiling and displaying his fangs.

You stared back, frozen to the spot as terror coursed through your veins.

Hongjoong licked his lips before opening his mouth.

“Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen,” he said softly, staring at you, eyes full of excitement.

“Twelve, eleven, ten,” he continued, tilting his head, smirking at you with a devilish look. “You should probably run,” he whispered.

Heart pounding, you spun on the spot, glancing around quickly before taking off as Hongjoong continued to count down. You shined your light around, looking through the aisles, stepping over ruined books and crumpled paper.

‘Where is it? Where is the exit?’

Your eyes landed on a distant neon sign that looked to be an exit sign. You started to sneak your way towards it, ducking behind shelves and turning off the light, taking slow deep breaths to try and steady your breathing and your racing heart.

“Five, four, three, two…” Hongjoong paused for effect, the thud of his heavy boots echoing around the room as he walked towards the edge of the circle.

You held your breath, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill. The room fell silent and you peered through a gap in the books beside you, allowing you to see into the center of the room where Hongjoong stood.

Your eyes widened as he seemingly scanned the room, stopping briefly over the shelf you were hiding behind. When he continued to look around the room, your shoulders relaxed before his head snapped back to the shelf you were hidden behind. “One.”

In a split second, the demon had crossed the room, grabbing the shelf with a clawed hand and ripped it from the floor, carelessly tossing it aside.

You screamed as the shelf crashed into another, wood splintering before scrambling up and dashing off in the opposite direction. You ducked around bookcases as Hongjoong laughed in the background. The echoing thud, thud, thud of his boots started to follow you in a casual manner.

“Keep running, little lamb,” he called out as he walked. “I’ll always find you.”

You managed to sneak your way to the opposite side of the room and squeeze yourself into a small alcove, focusing on slowing your breathing, making sure to breathe through your nose and keep quiet as Hongjoong stopped walking.

You could hear him start to chuckle, turning into laughing as he started walking again, each foot step heavy against the ground. “It’s so funny when you try to steady your breathing,” he said as he continued walking, drawing closer and closer. “But you could hold your breath and I’d still find you.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, hitting your sternum with a tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump. Hongjoong clicked his tongue, allowing you to deduce he wasn’t far away. “That right there,” he continued. “That’s what gives you away. Your heart is so loud. I could hear it in the other room while the vampire had his fun with you.”

You peeked around the corner, making sure the coast was clear before silently sneaking away as quickly and quietly as you could. You needed to get your bearings and find that exit sign again. You peeked over a low shelf and saw it off to your left. If you could just sneak around the corner, you could hopefully make a dash for the exit.

Upon scooting closer towards the exit, you found yourself at a dead end where two bookcases blocked your path. ‘What the fuck?’ You turned around and crept back to the center of the room, keeping your eyes open and avoiding the circle of light as you crept around the edge of the circle.

“You’ve discovered my little maze, haven’t you?”

You froze, ducking behind one of the shelves as Hongjoong stepped into the light. His appearance had altered slightly. He still had the same horns but his eyes were different. Black scleras with golden irises. He also sported a tail that had seemingly torn through the back of his pants.

“Oh, that was rude of me,” Hongjoong continued. “It’s not fair if I read your mind.”

You cursed silently as you listened. ‘Shit, I completely forgot!’

“Tell you what,” Hongjoong said, coming to a stop in the center of the room. I’ll give you another chance,” he said, holding his arms out in a grand gesture.

“And because I’m so generous, I’ll give you another head start but since I already gave you a large one, I’ll give you a smaller one this time. And I promise not to read your mind or use my super hearing. I’ll give you ten seconds this time,” he added with a mischievous smile.

You glanced back to find the wall behind you was solid. You decided to follow it, keeping low and out of sight as you crept behind the short bookcases until you slipped into an opening as Hongjoong began to count down from ten.

“Nine… eight… seven…six…”

You pulled a bandana from your bag and wrapped it over the front of your flashlight before clicking it on, the cloth cover dimming the beam and casting a dull red glow in front of you. He was right. This place was a maze.

You followed the path until you reached a large open area. You had two options; you could go left or right. You chose right, following the shelves until you reached a dead end.

Cursing silently, you backtracked, taking a left and following the shelves to another fork. This time you took the left path and followed the narrow aisle until you reached another crossroad. You chose to continue to the left and let out a soft swear when you reached a dead end.

Now you had to backtrack again.

You moved quickly, keeping your eyes and ears open for any sign of the demon. Once you reached the second fork you’d come across, you went the opposite direction, taking the right path instead of the left you chose earlier.

This path took you to another fork. You shined your light at the right but upon hearing a book fall from that direction, you took the left path which led you to…

“Another dead end?” you whispered, shining your light around. You backtracked, freezing when you heard the familiar thud, thud, thud.

He’s coming.

You decided to take refuge behind a bookcase, hoping Hongjoong would take the path to the left like you chose so you could sneak past him.

A shrill whistling met your ears as he whistled a tune, walking slowly until his footsteps stopped just on the other side of the bookcase. You ducked down, hoping he couldn’t see through the wood or books.

You heard him sigh before he started whispering.

“Eeney, meeney, miney, mo…” he trailed off. You held your breath, blinking tears away before you heard his footsteps head for the left. ‘Yes!’

Once you were certain the coast was clear, you peered around the bookcase before silently sneaking out from your hiding spot. You cast a glance back as you backtracked to the first fork. You’d tried two routes already and hoped the third would be the correct one.

You made it back to the first fork and took the left path, following it around, turning left and right as you followed the narrow aisle. From behind you and several aisles over, you could hear the heavy thudding of Hongjoong’s boots. “How clever, little lamb,” he chuckled as his voice echoed around you.

“Making me think you went one way. Such a clever little girl.”

You choked back a sob as you hurried forward. The bookcases opened up and you could see Hongjoong standing in the center of the room. You made eye contact, stomach churning as he smirked at you.

Before your eyes his coat ripped, wings sprouting from his back and making you scream. You turned away and made your way towards the green neon sign that you could now see read ‘exit.’

“You can’t escape me,” Hongjoong called, the wings shaking off the remnants of his jacket before he took to the air as you reached a straight shot towards the exit door. You glanced back once more and let out another shriek as the demon started towards you, flying over the bookcases, filing cabinets, and tables.

You ran as hard as you could, finally pushing the door open and slamming it behind you.

Blinking at the sudden light you looked around before something hit the door. You screamed, looking for something to barricade the door and decided to push the cabinet beside you against it.

You managed to block the door and backed away as the demon growled, roared and pounded against the door. “Come out, come out, little lamb,” a deep gravelly voice said. “Leave me alone!” you screamed, tears freely flowing now.

“Aww, you want to be alone, little lamb?”

The deep, demonic layer to his voice was gone now. A beat of silence was followed by his maniacal laughter. “You’ll never be alone again,” he said, the threat in his voice apparent as he scratched against the door, his nails grinding against the metal.

Turning away from the drawer, you scanned the room. It was a small room with a few bookcases, a rolltop desk, and a hutch cabinet. The glass on the cabinet was either broken or coated in a thick layer of dust. Everything was coated in dust.

You looked around, eyes settling on the desk where a stack of papers was strewn across the surface. You slowly walked over, inspecting the contents now that the banging had stopped though you knew you couldn’t linger for too long.

Your eyes landed on a specific sheet of paper. It was old with loopy handwriting. You carefully picked it up and read, eyes scanning the sheet.

‘Twenty-third of June, in the year sixteen-hundred and twelve,’ the first line read.

‘We’ve gathered at the town centre, many of us coming from villages from far away. The town has called upon us to act. Residents have complained of being plagued by a demon. Yunho was the first to arrive—’

“Yunho?” you whispered, pausing your reading as the face of the alien from the science fiction section flashed in your memory. ‘What does he have to do with this?’ you wondered before continuing to read.

‘Next to arrive was Jongho, a young priest from an ancient sect. The youngest in his order.’

Jongho’s face, a shy smile on his lips, filled your mind’s eye. ‘What is going on?’

Continuing to read the manuscript, you learned that all of the Guardians were based on these priests and the one who had written the manuscript was Yeosang.

“This doesn’t make sense,” you whispered, turning the page over to look at the back where a symbol had been drawn. It was something you’d seen before. The insignia on Seonghwa’s key and it happened to be an amalgamation of all of the guardians’ insignias.

“So these priests were drawn to the town to capture the demon?” you whispered to yourself as you looked over the other sheets, seeing hastily written scripture, crude drawings of what appeared to be various rituals and symbols.

‘Were they trying to banish him?’

A chill ran up your spine and you decided you’d seen enough. “I don’t have time for this,” you said, tossing the paper onto the desk before turning to look at the open doorway you’d seen when you first looked around the room.

It was dark and made you hesitate to enter but you knew that was probably your only way out. Your feet refused to move though. You glanced back at the desk, looking down at the papers before letting out a frustrated groan and pushed the papers aside.

You found sketches of the priests, eyes widening as you looked each one over. There they were. The faces of all six guardians staring back at you. “What the fuck?” you hissed. The details were uncanny. It wasn’t like they resembled them. The guardians were exact carbon copies of the priests.

“If the guardians are modeled after these priests,” you whispered, setting the pages down. “Then who is Seonghwa? How does he fit into this?”

You started rifling through the pages, setting aside the ones you’d already looked at. You knew you didn’t have time for this but you’d never have this question answered if you didn’t look now. ‘I don’t have much time,’ you reminded yourself.

‘But I have to know!’

Your search concluded as you read an old newspaper article from the late 1870’s. Your eyes scanned the page, reading a story about a woman and her fiance who went missing in the jungle you currently stood in. Your eyes widened as you looked at the pictures of the couple.

The woman was beautiful, she had long dark hair, styled into an elegant updo. She wore a dress with a high neck, reminiscent of the fashion of the Victorian era. The man was the spitting image of Seonghwa. ‘Is this…’

Your thoughts were cut short by a distant metallic clang coming from beyond the door frame. You dropped the newspaper and turned to look at the doorway, the blackness both inviting and intimidating.

‘That’s enough research,’ you told yourself. ‘Time to go!’

You made a dash for the doorway, peering into the room on the other side to find it was actually a stairwell. Rushing past the doorway, you leaned over the railing, looking down to see the steps continued for a long while, eventually descending down into darkness.

Raising your head, you looked up, squinting slightly as you were met with bright light coming from what seemed to be a square cut out in the ceiling. You raised a hand to shield your eyes as you looked. ‘Is that… daylight?’ you wondered, feeling a slight swell in your heart. ‘Is that the way out?’

“Finally,” you whispered, starting for the steps leading up. “This nightmare can end!”

As you reached the steps, you froze in the spot, one foot on the landing, the other raised to step onto the bottom stair.

Something felt wrong. You looked up, peering between the cases where you saw a face peering back from several floors up. Your eyes widened in horror as you made eye contact with Hongjoong. The eyes were the same black sclera with yellow irises, his horns were still the same black but his skin. His skin had changed.

It was now a sickly gray and flaking, giving him a grotesque and monstrous appearance. He grinned at you, showing all of his sharp teeth. “Hello,” he said cheerfully. You gasped and turned tail, heading down the stairs instead of up. Footsteps pounded against the stairs, following you down as you used the railing to turn the sharp corners.

‘Come on, come on!’

The darkness never came as you ran down several flights of stairs before finally bursting through another door, glancing back to make sure you were followed.

You ran into a solid body and screaming, hitting the figure only for them to grab your arms and yell at you to calm down. “Stop! Stop!”

You glanced up, eyes widening as you looked into the face of…

“Seonghwa?”

The vampire held you firmly as he inspected your face. “W-what? How did I get here?” you asked, looking around. You weren’t back in the lobby but you were in a dark hallway. The walls and floor were made of stone. The same sandstone as the temple. “Wh-where are we?” you gasped, turning to look behind you where there was nothing but an empty wall.

“I heard you screaming,” Seonghwa started to explain. “So I came back here and I found you running away from that wall,” he added, nodding towards the empty wall. “Are you alright?” he asked, looking back at you.

You turned back to meet his gaze. The same golden eyes you’d seen before looked back at you. “Y-yeah,” you gulped down air as you nodded. “You’re almost free,” Seonghwa said, giving you a kind smile. “This is the last stretch.”

You let out a tiny sob as he pulled you into a warm hug. “You’re doing so well,” he whispered. “Come on,” he added, pulling back and pulling you forward, taking a step behind you. “You’re so close now,” he added.

“Don’t give up.”

You felt him give you a small push towards the direction you were facing. At the end of the hall was a door. It was unlike any of the doors you’d entered before. It was white painted wood. You approached it slowly, turning to look back at Seonghwa who nodded, gently moving you forward.

“I can’t open it for you,” he added. “You have to do it yourself.”

You strolled forward, stopping just short of the door before taking a deep breath, reaching for the knob and twisting it.

The door swung open to reveal your living room. You let out a shocked sob, looking around the room. You turned to look back at Seonghwa who nodded, giving you a smile and gesturing for you to enter. “Go on,” he urged.

You stepped past the threshold, looking around the room. Everything was as you left it. You ran your hand over the dark stained wood of your staircase bannister, a smile spreading over your face. “I can’t believe I’m home,” you whispered.

“This is goodbye,” Seonghwa said from behind you. You turned to look back at him. He had a somber expression on his face. “Come with me,” you said suddenly. “You could escape him, too,” you added.

Seonghwa gave you a sad smile. “No one ever escapes him.”

His words seemingly froze you in place. Your breathing increased, heart racing as you stared at the vampire. “Wh-what did you say?” you breathed.

Seonghwa had looked down at the ground. “No one escapes him,” he repeated before looking up. His eyes had changed. You let out a gasp as the facade of Seonghwa melted away to reveal Hongjoong.

“I told you I’d find you, little lamb,” he said with a dark chuckle. “N-no,” you whimpered, backing away from him. “You can’t. I’ve made it out!” you screamed. Hongjoong glanced around the room from outside the door.

“Are you sure about that?”

Glancing around the facade broke. You weren’t in your home. You were in a large room. There wasn’t much except a table with some chairs, an old four poster bed with dusty sheets, an old wooden chest and a wash basin.

You looked back at Hongjoong who gave you a menacing stare before stepping into the room. You backed into the table as he entered. Your lips parted, eyes widening as you took in his true form.

His pants had faded away into black fur, his legs were no longer that of a human but were bent the way a goat’s legs bent, fur covering from his waist down to his feet. The heavy black boots were gone, replaced with black hooves caked in either mud or something else you didn’t want to imagine.

Your path out of the room was blocked, Hongjoong now standing before you at an impressive seven feet tall, his tail flicking behind him with excitement. The tattoos adorning his torso and arms faded into a smoky black at his waist and near his wrists. His fingers were capped with sharp claws, also an inky black.

“Please,” you whimpered, edging away from him along the table. “Please let me go.” The tears flowed freely as you begged him. Begged for him to let you go. For him to spare you.

“Let you go?” he asked, tilting his head. “But we’ve had so much fun,” he explained, advancing slowly on you as you backed against the wall.

“F-fun? Chasing me all over, stalking me? That’s fun?” you whispered. Hongjoong let out a deep, frustrated sigh. “Maybe that was more fun for me but what about everything else?” he asked, leaning in and caging you against the wall.

“What are you talking about?” you snapped, trying to cower away but the wall kept you from escaping. You flinched as Hongjoong brought one of his hands up, taking your chin gently in his hand. “The hut in the jungle?” he asked, tilting his head. “Or what about the cave? All that web? That wasn’t fun?”

You gasped, about to ask how he knew about all of that but he kept going.

“And what about at dinner? When I cut your dress open? That wasn’t fun?”

You shook violently, trying to push him off. “S-stop,” you whimpered.

“And what about the section after that? The crime section? That wasn’t fun? I lost control for a bit there,” he said, chuckling as he remembered and it suddenly clicked for you. When Jongho had you bent over the counter. His voice had changed and he’d known about the other encounters.

Had it been Hongjoong the whole time?

Hongjoong chuckled again as recognition passed over your face.

“And what about in the treehouse? You have to admit that was fun,” he continued. When you said nothing, he tilted his head in the opposite direction. “And what about in the temple? I’ve always wanted to try having two coc—”

In response, you brought your hand back, slapping him across the face. “SHUT UP!” you screamed. “Stop talking! Just shut up!”

Hongjoong blinked slowly before turning his head to look at you again. “Wrong move, sweetheart.”

You felt his fingers close around your throat. You grabbed at his wrist as he lifted you against the wall, pinning you. You gasped for air, feet dangling inches from the ground. “Please!” you gasped. “Put me down!”

Hongjoong let out a growl before throwing your body onto the bed. You sputtered and gasped, coughing as the dust rose around you. A stretching rubber sound caused you to look up to see Hongjoong’s appearance had shifted again. The black goat legs were gone, his black pants back as he knelt on the bed.

You backed away until you were cornered against the wall and the headboard.

[FINAL WARNING. NONCON & DUBCON THEMES UNTIL THE NEXT CUT]

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed. Hongjoong let out another frustrated huff of air before grabbing your ankle and pulling you towards him. “No!” you cried, trying to grab onto the sheets and trying to pull away.

You tried kicking him with your free foot but he caught that one and pinned your legs to the bed. “This will be a lot easier for both of us if you’d just cooperate.”

You thrashed wildly, trying to free yourself but his grip was too strong.

“You gave into me before,” he said, pulling a bed restraint from under the mattress and cuffing one of your ankles. “What’s so different now?” You screamed, trying to pull free but he grabbed your other ankle, cuffing it as well. You sat up, trying to pull the cuffs but he was too quick, climbing onto the bed and pushing you back, pinning your hands against the mattress.

“Six times,” he said breathlessly. “Six times you’ve given yourself to me.”

You blinked up at him, tears streaming down the sides of your temples. “Why is it so different now?” he asked again, sliding his hands up your wrists and lacing his fingers with yours as his head ducked between your head and shoulder, tongue dragging over your neck.

“Haven’t I proved myself a very capable lover?” he asked softly, trailing kisses up your jaw to your cheek slowly. “Haven’t I satisfied you more times than anyone?”

You choked back a sob. “Haven’t I pleased you? Made you cum every single time?” You let out another whimper. You shook your head. Hongjoong pulled back to look at your face. “No? That’s not what you said before,” he added, leaning in, his lips inches from yours.

He was so close you could feel his hot breath on your face. “Shall I recall each and every orgasm you’ve had so far because of me?”

You shook your head again, a small sob leaving your lips. “P-please,” you whimpered. “Please let me go…”

Hongjoong huffed, dropping his head briefly as he shook his head slowly. “I told you already,” he said softly. “No one escapes.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Hongjoong hesitated, the tip of his tongue sticking out, playing with the metal tongue ring you’d barely gotten a glimpse of earlier.

“Why am I doing this? Doing what?” he asked softly, leaning in to brush his lips against your cheek. “Why am I trying to seduce you?” You shook your head.

“Why does no one escape? Why won’t you let me go?”

Hongjoong sighed heavily. “You really haven’t figured it out yet, have you?”

You stared up at him as he sat back, keeping your hands pinned to the mattress.

“What am I?” he asked, tilting his head. You glanced over him quickly. “A demon,” you answered, albeit hesitantly. Hongjoong nodded, giving you a grin. “I am,” he answered. “But I’m no ordinary demon,” he added.

“W-what does that mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “It means,” Hongjoong said leaning in. “I know you read those papers,” he whispered. “You know what I really am.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. You had read those papers, he was right about that. You learned about the binding ritual, the priests that had come from all over to seal the demon, the man hovering over you now, to this location. You learned about Seonghwa’s involvement and how he came to be here.

You’d also read Yeosang's notes about what Hongjoong was and the kind of havoc and terror he wreaked over the town.

‘In his most vile form, the demon is half man, half goat, blackened skin on his hands, almost as if he’d been burned, the skin charred from the flames of Hell. Black patterns like vines creeping over his arms, torso, and back. His black fur covered legs bent like that of a goats. His eyes black as night with golden rings in the centre. Black horns extending from his forehead and curving back over his caramel hair. Truly a hideous beast to behold. But to the women of the town, he appears much different. A man, not a beast. There’s only one word for his kind.

Incubus.’

You nodded slowly, looking up into his eyes. The black sclera had changed back to white but the same golden glowing irises looked back at you. “What am I, sweetheart?” he asked softly. You tried to speak but your voice failed you, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. “Speak,” Hongjoong said softly.

“I-in-incubus…” you whispered, your voice no louder than a breath.

“Do you know what an incubus is, sweetheart?” His inquiry made your breath catch in your throat. Had you not known before reading those papers in that room, you would have learned what an incubus was.

Thanks to your upbringing and your parents’ instilling a love and thirst for knowledge in you, many nights had been spent reading as many books, texts, and documents as you could. The vast library at your childhood house was home to many books in a vast array of differing topics.

You were around 18 when you first learned what an incubus was. The texts in the Library here had explained in further detail the deeds Hongjoong had performed before the priests arrived to seal him away.

‘Many women have fallen to the advances and lies of the demon. He’s managed to seduce and ensnare many of the town’s women, both married and unmarried. He’s defiled much of the town’s female youth, seducing and bedding them. He would have their very souls if left to continue. He must be stopped.’

You nodded silently. “Yes,” you whispered. The smirk on Hongjoong’s face grew.

“And you know what I’ve done?”

Again, you nodded, blinking away the tears. “And you know what I’m capable of?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered. “I could easily force you,” he continued. “Force myself on you.” Your heart hammered in your chest, stomach lurching and heat rushing to your core. Hongjoong seemed to notice the shift in your body.

“Does the thought of me taking you by force arouse you, little lamb?” he asked, grinning mischievously, the points of his fangs exposed. You tried shaking your head but you could ignore the feeling between your legs when Hongjoong pressed his erection into you. “I think you’re lying,” he muttered, an amused tone in his voice.

He rolled his hips against you again, this time earning a soft moan which you tried to hide by biting into your bottom lip. “It’s okay to enjoy it,” Hongjoong murmured, watching as your face contorted in pleasure each time he grinded against you. He could smell the arousal pooling in your panties and the heat radiating from your skin.

“It’s okay to give in,” he added, leaning in to nip at the skin just under your ear, chuckling when you whined in response. “Sex is nothing to be ashamed of,” he continued, nipping at the skin up and down the side of your neck.

“Sex is natural,” he added. “Humans are sexual creatures, Y/N.”

You felt a shiver run up your spine. “You are a sexual creature,” you heard him whisper in your ear. “I’ve seen firsthand what your body can take, sweetheart,” Hongjoong continued, one of his hands moving down to your hip, fingers digging into your skin.

“I’ve explored almost every inch of your body,” the demon whispered, tongue sticking out to lick a long strip up the side of your neck. “Every time I get to have fun, it’s always through one of those infernal incarnations,” he growled, tips of his pointed canines brushing against your pulse point.

“And now I get to have fun as myself only for you to deny me.”

You moaned, feeling him grind against you.

“I can smell it, you know,” he continued, raising his head to look at you. “You reek of sexual desire. I know you want me,” he added. “I know you want this.”

He punctuated his words with another roll of his hips. “You’ve been such a responsive and receptive slut,” he continued when you still couldn’t speak. “You’ve welcomed all my advances. I can change into any one of them again,” he added, the corners of his lips curling into a devilish grin.

“You want that alien again? I can add more tentacles,” he whispered, fingers teasing the top button of your shirt. “Stuff all of your holes at once,” he continued.

You moaned at the idea of seeing Yunho’s face again, the way he growled and pushed you against the floor as he took you from behind.

Hongjoong kept his eyes on your face as he undid the first two buttons on your top. “Or maybe you’d like the naga again. Maybe you’d let me fill that pretty pussy with both cocks this time,” he added, pressing his hard cock against you.

Your shorts were starting to stick to your slick folds, the pressure of his heavy cock against your clit was driving you mad. ‘Say yes,’ your brain kept telling you. ‘Give in.’

You weren’t sure if it was your own brain or if Hongjoong was somehow influencing your thoughts. Could he even do that? You didn’t know the extent of his powers but you knew he could accomplish some incredible visions. Illusions.

‘The Library of Illusion. They’re his illusions.’

You heard Hongjoong chuckle, seemingly having overheard your internal monologue.

“You’re just now piecing that together, baby?” he asked, shaking his head slightly.

“Maybe I should just be myself,” he murmured. “Stop playing with your head.”

You choked out another moan as he pressed his erection into your now soaked shorts. “You’re so fucking wet,” he added. “I bet I’d slip right in.”

You felt another two buttons of your shirt release. “You aren’t exactly stopping me,” he added, moving his hand to the button on your shorts. You glanced down through a heavy lidded gaze. “Joong,” you breathed.

He looked up from your shorts, meeting your gaze. “Joong?” he asked, raising a brow at you. “That’s different,” he continued. “Please,” you whimpered, hips seeking friction against his cock. “Oh little lamb,” Hongjoong said, moving a hand to cup your cheek.

“You’re gonna have to beg better than that.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Please, Hongjoong,” you choked out. “It’s so hot.” The demon tilted his head to the right. “Hot? You want me to help? Want me to cool you off?” You nodded frantically. Hongjoong’s lips parted in a grin, his pointed fangs making your walls clench around nothing.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he added, leaning over you, fingers hesitating at the button of your shorts. “I want…” your voice trailed off as you looked up at him, his glowing golden irises studying your face.

“You have to say it,” he urged, eyes narrowing. “So say it.”

“I want you,” you finally breathed out. “Want everything.”

Hongjoong let out a huff before easily undoing the button of your shorts before finally undoing the last couple buttons on your top. “You want everything? You want my tongue? My mouth? My fingers?”

His eyes darkened before adding “my cock?”

[CONSENT CONTINUES FROM HERE]

You nodded quickly. “Yes, Joong, I want it all,” you whimpered.

Hongjoong let out a deep rumbling growl and slowly tore your shirt off you with a slow and nasty rip sound as he pulled the fabric apart and tossed it aside. You moved your hands to rid yourself of your shorts but he stopped you, pushing your hands above your head. “Keep them there,” he instructed before climbing off the bed.

You could feel how embarrassingly wet you were through your shorts as he stood at the foot of the bed. “You want me to release you?” he asked, one hand wrapping around the post of the footboard. You nodded as you looked at him standing near your feet.

“And you promise you won’t run?”

You nodded again. “I promise,” you breathed out. “Just want you.”

Hongjoong barely touched you but your ankles were suddenly free and he was back between your thighs, kneeling in the same position. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs, pushing them against your stomach. “I can’t wait to fuck you like this,” he growled, squeezing your thighs.

“Pump you full of cum and watch it leak out of you,” he added.

You moaned, cunt convulsing around nothing at his words. “You want that?” Hongjoong asked,, a hint of amusement to his voice. You managed to whisper out a yes as his hands moved up your sides, fingers skimming your skin.

One of his hands moved up to your neck, lightly squeezing it before you felt his thumb brush over your bottom lip. “Open,” he ordered. You obeyed, parting your lips. Hongjoong pushed his thumb past your open lips, almost groaning when your lips wrapped around him, tongue tasting the pad of his thumb.

“That’s it,” he murmured, watching you. “Open again, pretty girl,” he added. When you did, he pulled his thumb out, replacing it with two fingers, pressing them against your tongue. You felt him grind against you again, pressing your wet shorts against your clit. “Maybe I should remove these,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes on your lips wrapped around his fingers.

Without a word, he removed his fingers from your mouth, leaning over to take your lips in a searing kiss. Your thighs instinctively clenched around his waist, legs wrapping around him. Hongjoong parted your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You tasted steel and moaned against his lips.

He pulled back much too soon for your liking but your complaints failed as he started leaving wet kisses down the side of your neck, trailing to your chest. “I’ll stop teasing you,” he murmured, giving you another thrust before taking one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it.

You moaned unrestrained as his other hand moved to knead and massage your other breast. “Joong, please. I need you,” you moaned, back arching. Hongjoong chuckled, the sound muffled against your skin. “Not very patient,” he murmured, letting your nipple fall from his mouth.

“Very well,” he added, scooting back to leave wet, open mouth kisses down your stomach, stopping to nip and bite your skin.

You looked down, meeting his heated gaze as he smirked at you before ducking his head and taking the zipper of your shorts in his teeth, pulling it down and making you gasp, dropping back against the bed.

A thin sheen of sweat had started to cover your body despite losing more and more clothes. You weren’t sure when it had happened but Hongjoong had managed to lose his clothes in the process. The leather pants had been replaced with the black fur you’d seen before.

Your thoughts were interrupted as Hongjoong kissed back up to your navel.

“Oh god,” you moaned, back arching as Hongjoong bit into the skin of your exposed hip, slowly tugging your shorts down. He raised his head slightly, looking up at you through his lashes. “Now that’s just mean,” he murmured.

“Saying his name when I’m right here,” he continued, grinning when your eyes met his. “S-sorry,” you breathed. Hongjoong shook his head, finally pulling your shorts down your thighs and tossing them aside. “I know,” he replied. “It’s just an expression.” His hands slid under your behind as he lowered his mouth.

“But I promise I’ll have you saying my name real soon,” he added with a wink.

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before you felt his tongue against your sex, lapping up your essence. “Shit!” you hissed, one hand moving down to comb through his locks.

“That’s not my name either,” he mused before moving his hands, spreading your folds. You tried to bite back but the sudden sensation of his tongue against your clit, the cool metal brushing against the bundle had your mind going blank.

Your thighs threatened to close around his head but he pushed them apart. “Hold them open for me,” he ordered. You moved your hands, grabbing the backs of your thighs and holding them open, leaving his hands free to pull your folds apart again. He gave your clit a couple light licks before spitting on your aching hole.

“What’re you— oh!”

Your words faltered as you felt the metallic tip of Hongjoong’s piercing against your entrance. You moaned as you felt the muscle enter you, squirming against your walls. It wasn’t human. Human tongues weren’t this long. You were briefly reminded of Yunho’s tongue but Hongjoong’s growl and the way he pulled his tongue out of you brought you back from those thoughts.

“Don’t do that,” he growled, making you look up as he hovered over you.

“D-do what?” you whimpered. “Think of other men. I’m right here,” he answered. “Think of only me. Those men aren’t even real. They’re illusions.”

Your mouth acted quicker than your thoughts. “They were real at one point.”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed and he was quick to wrap his hand around your throat, holding you against the bed as two of his fingers on the other hand plunged into your wet hole, making you squeal at the sudden intrusion.

“Whose fingers are in your cunt, sweetheart?”

“Y-yours,” you answered. You felt his fingers around your throat squeeze.

“I can’t hear you,” he growled. “Yours are!” you almost shouted.

You let out a moan as he slowly started to pump his fingers in and out of your hole, ignoring the wet sounds as he stopped to curl them against the soft spongy spot inside you. Your back arched, a low moan leaving your lips.

“If you keep thinking of other men when I’m right here, I won’t hesitate to punish you. You’re mine, little lamb. No one else's,” he growled. “Not even the vampires. You’ve always been mine. From the moment you step foot into the Library.”

Your words failed you as your mind went blank, whimpers and moans leaving your lips as Hongjoong’s fingers moved quickly, your arousal no doubt spilling from you and onto the bed. Your hands moved to grab his wrist as he kept a firm hold on your neck. “J-Joong, please, I’m gonna—”

Hongjoong removed his fingers quickly, making you cry out in protest.

Can’t have you come undone just yet, angel,” he said, a hint of amusement to his voice. “I’d rather have you come undone on my cock.”

You tried to follow his movements but his hold on your throat kept you immobilized as he took his cock in his hand. You wanted to see it but he refused to let you move. “You don’t need to see,” he muttered as he stroked himself slowly, coating his cock in your juices.

“It’ll be inside you soon enough.”

You felt him press the tip against your hole and you gasped as he pushed only the head of his cock past your folds. Your entrance stretched to accommodate the size and you knew you were in for a rough time. He was bigger than any of the others you’d taken.

You were dazed out of your thoughts with a light slap against your cheek as Hongjoong pulled the tip of his length out of you, instead resting it against your clit. “I told you not to think about other men when I’m right here,” he growled. “This is your last chance,” he warned.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered as he rutted against you, the weight of his cock pressing down on your clit as he coated the underside of his cock with your wetness.

“I mean it,” he said. “Keep thinking about other men and I won’t let you cum,” he warned. “I’ll fuck that pretty throat of yours and cum down it and not let you cum.”

You whimpered, moving your hips to grind against his cock.

“I’ll—hn— I’ll be good,” you stammered. “I p-promise!”

Hongjoong leaned over, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against your lips as he guided the head of his cock to your waiting hole. “This doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you,” he mumbled against your lips. “You’re in for a long night.”

Your brain emptied as he pushed his cock into you, stretching your walls as your body tried to accommodate his impressive size. He bottomed out quickly, the tip of his dick pressing against your cervix, a small bulge resting under your navel.

“S-so full,” you whimpered, eyes blurring with unshed tears. Hongjoong’s grip on your throat loosened. “You like that?” he chuckled. “You like being split open?”

You nodded, unable to speak as your tears flowed freely. Hongjoong had to resist the urge to slam into you if only to see you cry harder.

He never was good with self control though.

As he pulled back, leaving only the head of his cock inside, you braced yourself for the return but you still weren’t prepared when he snapped his hips forward, the head of his cock hitting your cervix.

“Oh fuck!” you gasped. Hongjoong placed his hand on your stomach, pushing against the bulge that was the head of his cock. You moaned out as he gave you another thrust, and then another, setting a slow but hard pace.

Each thrust had you gasping as you felt his cock hit your cervix and just under your navel each time. “It’s so d-deep,” you choked out in a sob, tears flowing more, staining the sides of your face.

Hongjoong let out a deep growl, his free hand grabbing your hips as he thrust faster, keeping his eyes on your face. The tears spurring him on, he made it his goal to have you screaming, his thrusts increasing by the second as he drove his cock into you repeatedly.

Your walls clenched around him as your thighs shook. “M’gonna cum!” you gasped, your grip on his wrist tightening. “S-stop, stop! I’m gonna cum!” Hongjoong let out a dark chuckle. “I’m in charge here, princess,” he murmured. “You cum when I say so.” You let out a shriek as he slammed into you.

“Hongj-joong!” you sobbed, walls convulsing around his cock as you came, the demon helping you ride out your high before he pulled completely. You had no time to come down from your high as he rolled you onto your stomach, lifting your hips and reentering you from behind.

Your face dropped into the sheets as he resumed the same relentless pace, driving his cock deeper into your pussy, though how he managed to go deeper you weren’t entirely sure.

“I’m not stopping until you’re screaming,” you heard him growl over the sound of his skin hitting yours.

“So you better start screaming if you don’t want this to last all night.”

You felt one of his hands hit your ass, your walls clenching around his girth.

Another smack caused your body to jump.

“J-Joong!” you whimpered, feeling your wetness slowly rolling down the inside of your thighs. Hongjoong glanced down, noticing it got much wetter. “Oh,” he murmured, slowing his hips. “You’re bleeding,” he added.

Your fingers dug into the sheets. “Don’t stop! Please don't stop,” you begged, pushing back against him. Hongjoong shook his head before taking a firm hold on your hips and slamming back into you. “Be careful what you wish for, angel.”

You cried out into the sheets, your voice muffled as your walls clenched around his cock again, cumming with a shriek but he didn’t stop this time. He fucked you through another orgasm. Your back arched as he placed a hand on your back between your shoulder blades and pushed your chest down.

“You seemed to like this position before,” he chuckled. “Stay down,” he added in a growl.

Your nails dug into the sheets as his thrusts sent you hurtling towards another orgasm, walls hugging his cock as you came again. “Scream,” he ordered. “Scream for me.”

He gave you a much harder thrust, the head of his cock pounding into your cervix and making you finally scream into the sheets.

Hongjoong leaned over, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you up, your back pressing against his chest as he moved to grab your throat. “Again,” he hissed, slamming into you and making you scream again, this time unrestrained.

“That’s it,” he groaned, hips never faltering as he fucked you through yet another orgasm. You’d cum more times than you cared to count. Your mind wasn’t in the state to be keeping track. “I’m close,” you heard the demon growl in your ear, his hips hitting your ass with a lewd wet smack as your essence coated your entire ass and inside your thighs.

You were sure you were a mess but couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Gonna cum and fill this ruined pussy. You want that, princess? I've already ruined your pretty pussy. You want me to fill it with my cum?” You moaned as he tightened his hold on your throat. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckled breathlessly.

“Open your mouth, slut,” he grunted. You obeyed, parting your lips enough for his fingers to enter your mouth, pressing against your tongue. “Suck,” he growled. You wrapped your lips around him, sucking as his other hand moved down, fingers finding your clit and circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts.

“So close," he gasped. "I’m gonna fucking fill you. Breed you like a bitch in heat.”

Your walls tightened, fluttering around his cock as you came for the nth time, Hongjoong finally finishing. You moaned against his fingers, spit covering your lips and rolling down your chin as he exploded inside you, cock twitching with each spurt as he emptied himself in your walls, coating them with a heavy load.

You felt it start to seep out of you, rolling down your thighs and no doubt dripping onto the sheet but he wasn’t done. As he continued to pump more of his seed into you, he pulled his fingers out and pushed you over, thrusting into you and forcing his cum further into you.

“You’re going to take all of it,” he growled, fingers digging into your hips, his sharp nails leaving marks. “All of it,” he added, thrusting as he finally emptied the last bit. You moaned loudly against the sheets, feeling impossibly full as he kept his cock buried to the hilt inside you, the cum he’d emptied inside you filling every crevice.

You were sure some of it had managed to seep into your womb. You were incredibly full. “Just like that,” he murmured. “Stay still.”

Your walls clenched, pushing out a small amount of his cum. “If you keep pushing it out,” he growled, looking down at the semen that had trickled out and was rolling down the inside of your thighs.

“I’ll plug you up.”

You moaned, walls clenching involuntarily. Hongjoong clicked his tongue.

You felt him pull part of the way out only to push back in, the base of his cock now thicker. You screamed into the sheets as he forced a knot you knew wasn’t there before into you, plugging your cunt and now keeping everything inside you.

“I warned you,” he said simply, thumbs tracing circles into your skin.

“Full of my cum and my cock,” he murmured. “Now you really are mine,” he added. “No one else can have you.”

You whimpered as he thrust forward, a slight laugh escaping him.

“And now I have all of eternity to breed you over and over again.”

The demon let out a dark chuckle as he snapped the book shut and got up from his seat. He walked over to a shelf with brightly colored books. Seven of them, each with their own special insignia on the spines.

The green book with the stars and moon, the red book with the spider on its web, a gold book with a palace, the silver book with a magnifying glass, the purple book with a dragon, the tan book with the snake, the blue book with a bat, and lastly the book in his hands.

The orange book with a demon mask on the spine.

Hongjoong placed it next to the purple book and looked up at them all.

“Right where you belong,” he said softly, turning away and walking from the shelf.

“No one escapes.”

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