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singswan-springswan · 6 months

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ficlet under the cut

The crate tipped with a sudden lurch and broke open on the ground. Zuko spilled unceremoniously with the motion. Inelegant. Graceless. Normally his movements held much more regality, but he'd been kidnapped and stuffed in a scratchy box and out of the water for some indeterminable length of days, so cutting himself some slack here felt appropriate.

It wasn't much brighter outside the stupid box. His scales were dry, his head was killing him, and the floor held a pleasant cool against his mounting fever. He really needed water soon. Every part of his body felt... scratchy. Discomfort would escalate into pain, and then asphyxiation. He would suffocate if he dried out. Idly, he wondered how long it would take. The humans seemed to know. They hadn't acted worried yet.

"Our latest bounty." The voice looming over Zuko was muffled in weird places. "I thought it might spark an interest. You collect fire fish, isn't that right?"

Zuko bit down a hazy groan and fumbled to prop himself up. The loss of the tile's cool against his cheek was one he mourned, but there would be time for relaxing when he found a way out of this mess. He could barely think straight. The humans—the pirates who'd ransomed him from the girl in blue—were standing guard around him now. He could see their boots. They were facing all the same direction, same way the voice was talking towards, and Zuko turned to observe.

The surrounding space was large, a room, and very dimly lit. This wouldn't normally be an issue, being that he was a mer, but his headache made his eyes lazy and bad at adjusting to the dark. If he squinted, he could see the ripple of light along the walls. Blue. Weird. In the direction of the pirates' attention, something like the outline of a table was visible—as large and imposing as the room itself. A single shadowy figure occupied a seat on the far side. He looked weird with the backlight. Zuko's vision was getting spotty.

He didn't get much chance to scan the rest of the surrounding space, because the pirate captain decided to be a jerk and grab his hair. It'd long since escaped its neat topknot, now bunching and sliding strangely in dry heat. The pain and the change in angle made Zuko rapidly lose sight of the shadow man.

"This one's quite a specimen." The pirate tilted Zuko's head back, baring his throat—maybe as a joke; it was always hard to tell if humans knew the significance of such a display—and lifted him enough to catch the light. So their potential buyer could get a better view.

Zuko would like to rip the pirate's skin off and feed it to him, but he was weak with dehydration, and his previous struggles against the man's crew had left him exhausted. All he managed was a low hiss. If humans could understand mer speech, he’d be cursing them as soundly as possible. Someone was standing on his tail. Not that it made much difference. He doubted he could have swung it if it wasn't pinned.

"I've seen a lot of the fire mer in my day, but this one's real pretty. Don't feel bad turning the offer down. We'll keep 'im if you won't." His crew laughed. Bastards. Zuko could hear the leer in the pirate's voice. It made him dizzy with anger.

Then a low grind echoed softly, and the humans cut their chatter short. Zuko distantly registered the shadow at the table moving. What made that noise? Was it his chair? He stood, rounded the massive table, and drew closer. All Zuko could see was a dark, unfocused blob. Vaguely humanoid.

"Yeah, don't be shy! Come get a closer look!"

The fist in his hair tightened. His scalp burned. The fins all down his back shuttered, and a stinging ache began to form in his gills. He needed water. He needed to get out of here. He shouldn't have wandered so close to the shore, even if that pretty girl in blue seemed so friendly at first glance. She did sell him out to these pirate scum. He should have known way better.

Even standing an arm's length away, the lighting continued to cast shadow on the pirate's potential client. It could be reasoned, then, that Zuko and the humans around him were washed in the room's best luminance. Certainly his scar could be seen clear as day. Maybe his tail was pretty, but there were parts of him imperfect. Maybe the stranger wouldn't want to buy him for that. Maybe Zuko would be stuck with these idiot pirates forever.

A smooth voice came from the stranger. "Release him."

"Sure, sure."

The pressure on Zuko's scalp vanished. He collapsed to the cool tile with no more grace than before, even further disoriented, and with a worse headache. He grit his teeth in frustration. That bastard was still on his tail.

Cool fingers tilted his chin up before he could lift his head on his own again; he hadn't seen the shadow man crouch down. Startled, Zuko yanked back and hissed a second time. He made sure to reveal far more fang and fan far wider with his fins; he just wanted these stupid humans to stop poking and grabbing him however often they pleased. Was that too much to ask? He wasn't an ornament. And he sure as heck had no intention of being a pet.

The stranger's face was close, and shadowy, and out of focus. Zuko's head was killing him. The room spun.

"The shape of the fins—” The stranger’s voice began.

“Really something, isn’t it? Never seen a mer so fancy before.”

There was a beat of silence, then the cool fingers returned to Zuko’s jaw and held him firmly in place. He growled. It didn’t make a difference. He was exhausted and hot and vulnerable, and everyone could tell. There was no way to stop them from doing as they pleased.

“There’s a scar.”

“Wasn’t us, mate. Looks like the beast’s had it for a while. I think it adds to the aesthetic, don’t you agree?”

Zuko glared. It was the sort of one-sided remark he’d only accept from Uncle Iroh, though Azula had made attempts to express similar sentiments in that weird way of hers. He’d always hated the scar. At least the monster who put it there was dead now.

The stranger gave no comment. He reached another hand out and pushed Zuko’s hair aside, away from his eyes. Zuko did his best to meet the unfamiliar gaze as steadily as possible, despite the awkward backlight. He was being stared at. He refused to show how unnerved it made him. His trembling and fever didn’t help much in that regard.

Finally, after a dreadful length of scrutiny, the shadow man spoke. “How much do you want for him?”

Zuko could hear teeth in the pirate’s smile. “How much are you willing to pay?”

“Ten-thousand.”

Zuko didn’t know how humans calculated their currency. He’d assumed mer in general to be expensive, but they called him a stupid something fire fish, and it sounded like exotic. Even so, the pirate captain seemed shocked. He let out a high chuckle.

“Well! Show me the gold and you’ve got yourself a deal!”

The stranger waved an uninterested hand over his shoulder, and another grinding sound reverberated through the floor. Zuko couldn’t see the source of the sound with multiple different shadows clouding his vision. Judging by the pirates’ hushed tithering, their payment had been offered.

“Excellent! Pleasure doing business with you, as always.”

“Zaheera will see you out.”

The group broke formation around Zuko and floated away, whispering excitedly. Though they’d been awful to him, he couldn’t help a flicker of fear at their absence. At least with the pirates, he knew they’d avoid causing permanent damage. He knew they’d want to sell him for the highest price possible. Now, he had no idea what to expect. This stranger could have any number of sinister plans in mind; Zuko had certainly heard the horror stories. All young mer were warned about the brutality of humans, and now he was at the mercy of someone who really wanted him. This was bad.

The stranger let him go, and the world tilted as Zuko crumpled. He was very dizzy. And angry. And he really wanted to sink his fangs into human flesh.

But when he turned (against his better judgment) to snap at his new captor, a firm hand was already pushing down the back of his neck. The same way one might handle an unruly pup. Zuko was too tired to be insulted by the gesture. He wasn’t a pup anymore, but a move like that with the human’s advantage was enough to subdue even a full-grown mer.

“Watch out with that one!” The pirate’s faint voice called back. “Quite a monster at full strength. He killed two of my men when we—”

“Get out.”

The heavy thud of the door confirmed their absence, though the human didn’t seem to pay any attention to it. He ducked another snap of Zuko’s teeth, and ignored his crackly snarl, and slid his arms beneath scratchy scales. The world tilted again. Zuko would consider puking if he wasn’t so close to blacking out. The human was carrying him. Impressive. Zuko was heavy outside the water. His fins trailed the floor as they moved, but he was very much in the air, solidly in the man’s grip. Almost cradled, even if he was too big for the pup-hold to have effect a second time. The use of such familiar techniques should have rung a bell in his mind. Zuko’s headache and exhaustion wouldn’t let him dwell on it.

After a dizzying stretch, something wonderful happened. Zuko heard water. The noise was still muffled, and it faltered clarity with every stray tilt of his head, but Zuko knew what water sounded like. He’d been fantasizing about it for the past few days.

There was a splash, and with distant elation, he felt his fins trail. He wasn’t lucid enough to hold back the happy trill.

“I know.” The man huffed, and it rumbled through his chest. “I know—those bastards.”

The water rushed up around him, deliciously cool, salty, clean. It took Zuko up to his gills to realize he’d been lowered into a pool of some kind. It was shallow, but not cramped. He drew a deep breath. That felt very nice. The hands were gone.

He didn’t bother confirming he was alone before passing out soundly.

<~><><~>

Zuko was alone when he came to, and his headache had finally retreated to the realm of faint discomfort. Incredible what a good long sleep in water could do for one’s health. The pirates hadn’t put him in a tank. They were mad about what a fuss he caused the first time they brought him aboard, and they’d rightly concluded he’d be easier to handle if he was dehydrated and exhausted and dizzy. They’d doused him with lukewarm buckets every few hours, just to keep him from dying. Zuko was relieved to be back in water now. Even if trepidation about the uncertainty of his new circumstances wouldn’t let him relax.

The pool he’d been placed in was shallow; he couldn’t move without some part of his tail skimming the surface. It was still comfortable in spite of that. The edges spanned a decent length, so he could turn with ease, and the basin interior was cut from smooth, white stone. His fins shone stark against it. The pool itself seemed to be laid into the ground, flush.

Zuko scanned his surroundings while he waited for something to happen. He still seemed to be indoors. The walls here weren’t as high as the one from before—from the sale pitch—and most of them were made of a clear material. It shone with sunlight from outside. The rest of the space was occupied by greenery. The taller ones reaching the ceiling had been planted in beds in the ground, surrounded at the base with bushy, leafy shrubs, and brilliant flowers, and crawling vines. The faint sound of water also trickled through the maze, but Zuko couldn’t see the source of it from where he was. It was peaceful. Uncle would love this place.

But Zuko hadn’t forgotten how he ended up here, and he had no illusions about being treated fairly, even if he’d been left undisturbed in such a pleasant area. He had to keep his guard up. He was being held against his will. He was trapped on land with no way to escape or get home. He didn’t have much experience with humans, but so far they’d only beaten him, used him, or treated him like a pretty ornamental object, and he had no reason to believe this behavior would change soon. He had to be prepared for the worst.

In truth, he really wanted to murder someone. The urge had become so intense during his captivity with the pirates, and he hadn’t had a real outlet, being close to dying of dehydration. Now that he was rested, his jaw nearly ached to bite through bone.

He spent the time waiting for an opportunity by pacing around the pool. The space didn’t allow for much more than tight circles. Still, it was better than sitting around stewing in all his problems.

Mother was probably worried by now. Him being an adult with a life of his own didn’t stop her from worrying that he wasn’t home every day. Azula didn’t feel the same. Azula would kill for him though; she’d done it before.

Eventually, after what seemed like an hour of thinking to himself and going crazy for it, the faintest vibrations thrummed through the water, and Zuko froze. Footsteps. Someone was approaching.

He lifted his head above the surface. The sound drew closer, brushing through the plants with a practiced gait. Zuko coiled his body. There was deliberation in the person’s movement. They knew he was here. They were coming to see him. The likelihood that he’d be attacking an innocent servant or something alike was low, and that brought him a hint of reassurance.

When the human came into view, bathed in green filtered sunlight, stepping out to the pool’s edge, Zuko took an entire second to appraise the figure. Tall. Male. Dark hair, luxurious silk robes in green and pale yellow. When he spoke, it was the same smooth voice from the shadowy stranger that paid for him.

“Hello.”

Zuko didn’t wait any longer. He launched himself at the human with a vicious snarl. His vision was red. His heart was pounding. How dare they treat him with such contempt? He wasn’t some prized bounty. He wasn’t an ornament for some rich knave’s garden. He wouldn’t take this insult and abuse lying down, and if these humans continued to assume so, they were in for a shock.

To some degree of satisfaction, the man did seem shocked to be bowled over. The air left his lungs in a massive wheeze, and his eyes went very wide. He was also—however—quick. He reflexively shoved Zuko’s head away when Zuko tried to bite, and he managed to lurch free enough to dodge an elbow to the face.

“Wait!” The man yelped.

But Zuko had a size advantage, and the man was on his back, and Zuko really wanted him dead. He slammed his shoulders into the grass, pinned his legs with his tail, made another attempt to remove the throat with his teeth. This time, the man brought his arm up in a hasty block. Zuko was too busy biting down to be upset he’d missed his target. Blood and the creak of bone filled his mouth.

There was a shout of pain. “Wait wait—Zuko, stop!”

The words pierced his hazy red anger like ice through fresh snow. Zuko froze. Even being slightly feral at the taste of blood and festered indignation, he rapidly came to his senses and dropped the arm. His mind spun.

How did this man know his name? The pirates didn’t know. The pretty girl in blue didn’t know. And he wouldn’t be able to tell them if he wanted to (which he very much had not). It wasn’t a lucky guess. No one shared his name that he’d ever met. So why—how could a random human—

“Get off!” The human fumbled to shove Zuko’s face away. His sleeve was ruined, and rapidly turning red.

Zuko slowly obliged. The man didn’t seem angry. He only seemed annoyed, even as he bled profusely from an arm that might be broken. There was something unnervingly familiar about the twist of his scowl. He shuffled sideways and sat up.

“Spirits, kid, you’ve got a strong jaw.”

“I’m not—” Zuko cut himself off before he could complete the retort. The human wouldn’t understand him. The human knew he wasn’t a kid. Zuko was very obviously a full grown mer.

“You could have let me explain myself before trying to kill me.” Why did his scowl look so familiar? The man untied a sash of his fancy outfit and wrapped his arm with clinical efficiency. Then he looked up to meet Zuko’s eye, and his scowl faltered. “Are you okay?”

What.

Zuko stared. Was he seriously… asking if Zuko was okay? There was blood in the grass and in his robes and he might have a concussion and his ribs might be bruised and Zuko would at worst have a sore jaw. He shifted back warily. In his experience, crazy men often did cruel things.

When he made no move to respond, the man sighed roughly and looked away. “Guess I should have waited on that tea. Zaheera will be by with some shortly.”

“What?”

What on earth was he talking about? Tea? Of all things? How did he know Zuko’s name and why was he so relaxed about the bite on his arm and why did the slope of his nose look so familiar and why was he talking about tea in the blood and the grass?

“You were always more civil with it around.”

Okay, now Zuko was thoroughly weirded out. He wished he had an exit. An escape route. He was stuck on land in an unfamiliar house and the closest thing he had to sanctuary was a fake pool of water barely deep enough to sleep in. This was freaking him out just the slightest.

“You’re nuts.” He said. Just to say it. The man wouldn’t understand the words or the insult in them, but Zuko was sick of just sitting around not saying anything, waiting for stupid humans to come to the right conclusions.

For his effort, he was rewarded with the faintest thaw of the man’s grumpy expression. It looked amused somehow. “And why is that?” He asked.

What.

A trace of alarm made Zuko flinch. “...Because you’re… talking to me.” He probed. Just to see. Humans weren’t supposed to understand.

“Why would that make me crazy? You’re real, aren’t you?” He glanced at his sleeve, now mostly red. “I’m pretty sure you are.”

Zuko blanched. He considered backing away, back into the pool. The safety it offered was purely psychological, but it would be something at least. It’d be better than lying vulnerable on the ground next to a crazy person. His fins twitched.

“What—but—you understand me?”

“Of course.”

“But humans aren’t supposed to understand.” From what he’d heard, humans interpreted mer speech as primitive and animalistic: nothing more than a series of harsh vocalizations strung together. Zuko had demanded an explanation for the phenomenon when he was younger. After all, mer understood human speech just fine. No one was able to give him a satisfactory answer.

“Well, I’m not human.” The human said. “Technically.”

“Then what are you?” Possibly a witch? Zuko had heard of their strange abilities. Or maybe he was a spirit. In which case Zuko was screwed. He probably couldn’t get away with attempted murder on a spirit; he’d totally be cursed or something. It could also be a shapeshifter of sorts, from the myths.

But the man quickly dispelled any outlandish theories. For the first time that Zuko had seen, a flicker of hurt crossed his features. It made him look older than he likely was. Haunted.

“Wow Zuzu, you don’t remember your favorite cousin?”

No.

No, he definitely didn’t mean that. Zuko didn’t have any cousins. Not for eleven years. And there’d only been—one. Just one. Now there weren’t any.

But looking closer, Zuko could see why the scowl looked so familiar. He saw the same face in the mirror. And this man wasn’t human, clearly, even if he had legs in place of a red streaming tail. In place of the gold ribbon fins their family shared—that he must have recognized when he first saw Zuko.

He knew Zuko’s name. Zuzu. Azula tried to call him that—maybe out of nostalgia—but it belonged to them both, and Zuko hated to hear her say it because there was only one person who tried to bring them together like that, and hearing her say it reminded him of… of… a dead man.

Except he couldn’t be dead. He was right here. His blood tasted very real.

“Lu Ten?”

He looked so much like his father when he smiled. “Yeah.”

Zuko gaped. That felt like the only appropriate thing to do. Maybe the dehydration actually got to him, and this whole series of events was an elaborate hallucination. Maybe Azula spiked his tea with a psychedelic for her weird sense of humor, and he was hallucinating. It was too strange. This didn’t make any sense. Zuko’s cousin was dead, and if he wasn’t, wouldn’t Uncle know? Would Uncle have cried so hard so many private times if this was real? It felt so real.

“How did you get that scar?”

“How are you not dead?” Zuko’s head was spinning, though thankfully not from dehydration. He wasn’t sure if this was worse, actually. “Uncle thinks you’re dead.”

The comment earned him a flinch. “There’s actually a good explanation for that.”

“Which is?”

“I’m cursed.” Lu Ten squinted into the middle distance, looking uncomfortably close to being emotional. “To live as a human. And I can’t… go near the sea. I tried. It almost turned me into sea foam.”

Zuko dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

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helenazbmrskai · 3 months

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Mating Act (m)

Title [Mating Act]

Pairing [Alien! Yoongi x Human Slave! Reader]

Genre [Alien AU, Sci-fi, Smut, Angst, Fluff]

Summary [You make two choices that change your life entirely. First, you make a choice when you decide to save a family and get kidnapped instead of them, the second you make is when you force imprinting on an alien that takes one wife in his life which you decide will be only you.]

Words [5,2k]

Warnings [General warnings: slavery, bad treatment, dystopia setting, human trafficking, Sexual content: playful neck grabbing, teasing, sexual tension, first-time sex, dirty talk, manhandling, mention of human and wife a lot, alien anatomy (black ink, coldness and a very hard, big and cold dick also magic saliva), fingering, oral (f and m), unprotected sex, belly bulge, size kink, positions (cock riding, doggy, missionary), y/n cries that is how good she feels, overstimulation, buckets of cum, creampie(s), begging, blow job, possessive alien yoongi]

Rating [+18]

A/N: I’m very excited to share this with you guys since I think this would be a great successor to my previous work that many of you liked called “Mating Season” It’s kind of the same but entirely different. This story is in the same universe but it takes place before mating season!

Masterlist //

Your scrunched eyes open slowly, first, you only see a blinding light your ears focus on the cracking sound of neon. It’s cold and you’re not wearing enough clothes for the cool temperature. It takes a few seconds for your senses to return to you and then you can fixate on your surroundings, it’s outdoors and midday as you see the sun going up high in the purplish blue sky.

It seemed that by the time you were unconscious, you arrived at the slave trading planet. The light grey iron bars are cold to the touch and it’s extremely noisy out there. Different species roam the cells it might be hundreds if not thousands of cells lined up for sale, and you’re one of them: a rare find, a human.

Your introduction is displayed for the buyers in numerous languages. There are a few that you speak so you can read it with ease: female human, breedable, young. You hate how the aliens size you up some even get threateningly close until you back up. They openly talk about you thinking that you can’t understand a single thing. Humans are stupid and weak. You’re a race that is almost at extinction. Only a few of you are left and your life expectancy is around eighty years old, it’s short compared to others but all too long for you humans. You managed to survive this long which is a miracle on its own. How pathetic of you to get caught in international body trafficking because you decided to save someone. At least you hope that the family you tried to protect is safe somewhere else you don’t have anything left to protect so you accept your faith.

Deep in your thoughts, you thought you lost all faith in survival. You don’t have anything to go back to but you’re still unable to give up.

You still don’t want to die.

Your defiant gaze meets with a young male. Shorter than his friends he has bland black hair with the same eyes that almost look human. You know that he’s not one of your own though he speaks a different language with his friends and has weird marking on his skin that looks exotic in your eyes.

“Do you like her?” A man next to him stops to read your description. They almost look sorry for you as they see you behind the cell.

“No.” Black hair says without giving it a second. His eyes bore into yours and when he decides to stop looking at you you make a second split decision. You’re going to choose him. Your hands grip the bars as you get as close to him as you can. It’s been a long time since you used that language but you have to try.

“Take me.” They can clearly understand your words, you speak their language. You point at the black-haired man.

“Oh, it seems to like you Yoongi.” A friendly voice slaps him on the shoulders. They talk animatedly among each other finding you intriguing. Books say that the human race is stupid and weak but you look none of those things. His friends encourage Yoongi to get closer to you and for once you don’t step back as he approaches after a little push in your direction. His hands grab onto the bars before he can regain his posture and you use that opportunity to put your hands on his. His hand is cold to the touch the cold blue veins on his hands are in contrast to his pale white skin.

“Yoongi.” You call out the word you heard them say that you think might be his name.

“We’re running out of time. Let’s take her and leave.” A man speaks up his eyes fixated on the holo panel that shows the time and some kind of message. He has some weird-looking glass in his eyes, you think he might be the captain of the ship. You’ve seen that type of accessory somewhere before.

“I didn’t say I will buy it.” Yoongi pulls his hand away like you dirtied him. You rack your brain on how to make him take you with him. Black hair and black eyes, cool skin and vine-like black ink make you think of a race. You loved to read books this is how you taught yourself a few of those languages and you remember reading about his species once. This decision might take you closer to your end but it will be better than rotting in this place so you grab his clothes and smash your lips on his through the tiny gap between the bars.

A race that takes one wife in his lifetime. You’re going to bet on that.

Your tongue forcefully enters his mouth using his surprise against him to successfully imprint your taste on him. After his mind catches up he pushes you away so hard that you land on your butt. His eyes almost look feral as he watches you, he’s very angry but closes his eyes to push the feeling down.

“Get up.” You haul yourself up from the floor getting close to him despite his hard gaze on you. You don’t flinch when he grabs your hair and pulls you close so that your faces are inches away from each other.

“You want to come, then come.” It’s not a calm and collected sentence that he whispers so close to you. It sounds like a threat but you smile and nod. Even if he hates you he has an obligation to you. With that kiss you sealed your fate with his, you’re his. His one and only human wife for all eternity.

Your back collides with the wall behind you as soon as you see your kidnapper his torture that you had to endure is replaying in the forefront of your mind as he fiddles with the cell keys your hostility is not lost on the young men that wait for your release. Yoongi paid for you in digital cash don’t have more time to waste.

He intends to take you with him so he asks for the ownership process to be sped up.

The kidnapper yanks you out of the cell not caring about how you almost land on your face through the force he uses. Yoongi catches you easily lifting you in his arms. You forced him into accepting you but he still does his job of protecting you. His glare is not meant for you this time as he looks displeased by your idle treatment right in front of him. His big hands are curled around you in pretence protection. You must be crazy because you actually relax in his secure hold.

“Hi.” One of his friends gets your attention as he waves. He looks at you with curious eyes he seems like he has a lot of questions for you.

“Hello.” You reply in a hoarse voice. You don’t remember the last time you ate or drank something.

“What’s your name? I’m Hoseok.” He points at you and then at himself. It’s nice of him to talk slowly so you have time to interpret his words. No one else speaks to you as you go. Probably on their way to their ship since one of them implied some important business. Yoongi doesn’t look at you but his hands are firm around you.

“Y/N.”

“Your name is weird.” Hoseok slaps his friend but you don’t take it in the wrong way. Of course, for them, a human name will sound weird.

“You’re being rude Taehyung.” Hoseok scolds the other guy before he turns back to you swaying in Yoongi’s arms. “I think your name is pretty and you speak our language pretty well. How did you learn it? On Earth?”

You shake your head. If you think about your home planet your heart starts aching. “No. I taught myself reading books.”

Now his other friend looks interested in the conversation. The one who has that weird-looking glass.

“Fascinating, to find a smart human like you. I want to run some tests.” Hearing that crazy scientist talk again brings back bad memories as your face becomes uncomfortable and your relaxed figure goes rigid inside Yoongi’s arms. He could feel you tense up in fear and he reacted by holding you more firmly to his chest.

“You’re scaring her. Stop it.” This is the first thing he says after he bought you. Namjoon looks sheepish and apologises and even Hoseok reassures you that he’s just not good with words and you won’t be a lab rat at all.

You accept their apology. You think they mean well and are quite friendly to your utter surprise. They seem like good guys. You feel like it’s a good time to reveal some of your thoughts.

“Just because you read my description doesn’t mean you know anything about me. I wouldn’t reveal anything that would put me at a disadvantage. This is how I could survive until now.” The words taste sour in your mind and you think about all the things you had to do and endure just to be here. Was it worth it? This life. You have thought about it more times than you would have liked to admit.

“It must have been hard for you.” Hoseok shows you empathy and you give him a smile back in silent thanks.

“Why did you choose Yoongi?” A younger male looks at you with curious eyes. They don’t show it but this is the question they all were curious about all along. Even Yoongi perks up when he thinks you’re not looking.

“My instinct told me to trust him.” As for why, you don’t know either. You saw countless men and women walk in front of your cage but you only wanted him to buy you. The moment his eyes unknowingly lingered on you you decided to go with him. He must have felt something too. You saw him before he saw you. He never looked at anyone else but you. If you ask him he will probably deny it but you’re sure of it.

You probably looked desperate. Now that you replay your impulsive behaviour in your mind colour blooms on your cheeks in embarrassment. You learned how to kiss from a book it didn’t occur to you before but what if you were a bad kisser? You started spiralling until your surroundings faded and you locked yourself inside your head. You didn’t register when you arrived on board or when he carried you to his room.

You shiver when he puts you down on his bed. The temperature of his room is colder than you’re used to.

You panic when he tugs your clothes without a word. You grab his cold hands and look into his eyes with widened ones. He looks back at you with predatory. You once read that humans had a ceremony to be pronounced wife and husband. You never experienced it as a human but it sounded romantic.

Thinking back on what you read.

Yoongi is an alien. His species only takes one wife and their ritual is different from yours. The road to becoming his wife is simple enough.

“Look at you being surprised. As if you didn’t know what you did when you kissed me first.” You didn’t know, you just acted impulsively without thinking. You wanted to say that to him but only a gasp left your lips as he pushed you down on his large bed. He won’t listen to any of your pathetic excuses now.

“You forced my hands. Even if you don’t want it anymore you have no other choice but to be mine.” You gulp down the saliva that accumulated in your mouth, his fierce eyes pin you to the spot lying helplessly under him. His hand is so cold as he wraps it around your neck gently he can feel your heartbeat accelerate under his palm. He studies your features taking in every inch of you from head to toe. Committing everything about you to memory. Yoongi curls a few locks of your long hair around his fingers inhaling your scent his nose rubs against your pulse point. Your hands hold onto his waist digging your fingers onto his side but he doesn’t care about it as he kisses the skin on your neck.

You’re dirty and dishevelled in appearance your captor was not kind to his prisoners and you look like a shell of yourself after everything that you’ve been through. Your average beauty doesn’t matter to Yoongi. He’s going to take you regardless of how beautiful you look in other's eyes or not. The kiss already sealed your fate as his bride. Imprinting your taste on him means that he can’t escape you. While Yoongi wants to take you right then and there he realises that you need to be in a better shape to undertake the ritual. He did get a reaction rise out of you. So amusingly innocent.

“Take a shower, you reak.” You awkwardly look to the side unable to meet with his confident smirk. He likes to watch your face turn red. He pulls away from you and you take in a long-needed breath of fresh air. The coldness seeping back into your body makes you sober up and you scurry to his joined bathroom. Yoongi laughs as he sees you hide behind the door he makes sure you can operate the shower before he goes out to get some food for you. You don’t have any clothes to wear but you’re at least clean.

You find a clean cloth to wrap around your body in makeshift clothes it’s better than nothing as you need something to shield you from the cold.

Yoongi comes back before you can organize your thoughts. You could barely calm your heart as your mind kept replaying his soft lips on your neck and his body weight on you not to talk about those alluring black eyes. You could still see your reflection in them as you lock gazes. You look away when he puts the tray down in front of you full of food that you don’t know the name of. It’s not too bad once you take a bite but it’s bland the more you consume. It meets the purpose of filling you up as you no longer feel that gnawing hunger in the pit of your stomach.

You jolt up when you feel his hand pull your wet hair to the other side making his way to your neck. He takes a long whiff of air finally smelling your natural scent that was previously masked by the dirt and sweat. He takes the opportunity to cover you in his scent rubbing his nose up and down your throat.

You can’t concentrate on eating anymore.

“Eat. You will need it.” As if he could read your mind he halts all movements simply deciding on laying his head on your shoulder. You pick up more food and try to ignore how his possessive touch engulfs your body in a backhug. You remember how angry he became once you forcibly kissed him he even pushed you hard enough to lose your footing. The way he accepted you is too sudden.

“Are you going to …” Unable to say the words you stop in the middle.

“Am I going to fuck you? Yes, I will.” You gulp.

“Don’t you hate me for kissing you?” You close your eyes when Yoongi wraps his fingers around your neck again this time with more force but gentle enough that you’re not choking on air he just pulls you against his chest holding you by the neck as his nose rubs against your left cheek.

“I am angry. You selfishly decided this on your own. I bet you don’t realise half of the mess you got yourself into. I don’t hate you though. There’s something about you that caught my eye.”

It’s only a small peck on your cheek but your hands tighten around the tray. You take in a much-needed breath when you realise he doesn’t hate you. It makes you feel better knowing that it’s not entirely your imagination. He did look at you.

“I admit I don’t know much.” You sheepishly reply confirming his words. You read some things about his species but there’s no proof that everything is accurate.

“It doesn’t matter as you will be mine anyway.” His hand pulls you close his fingers splayed over your stomach. You only have a thin cloth over your naked body while Yoongi is fully clothed.

“Put down the tray.” You follow his order bending down slightly to put the tray down onto the floor. You let out a surprised yelp when his hands find your ass under the thin material, your backside is on full display for his hungry eyes. Your fingers have a deadly grip on the edge of the bed as he kneads the soft flesh.

“Your smell comes strongly from here.” His thumb parts your folds some wetness is gathered there that sticks to his finger when he pulls back. “I read a few books about you too, enough to know that this means you like the idea of me fucking you.”

Yoongi hates how he can’t see you acting coy biting your lip so he forcibly pulls you back against his chest and pulls your face to the side. You land on his lap your legs dangling on either side of his thighs. He runs his finger up and down your wetness watching your expression turn hazy and your mouth open to let out a silent moan.

“You like this don’t you? Having your human pussy touched by me.” Yoongi finds your clit quickly finding out how your moans increase in volume when he rubs circles over it. You’re gushing over his fingers.

The black ink on his arms moves to stain your body with blackness until it circles over your thigh in two pretty hoops. Your body is getting overheated as his touches devour your body. Fingers dance around your folds, your hips. The black hoops around your ankles and thighs are a reminder of what you started. You’re going to become Yoongi’s and no one can stop that from happening.

Feeling overwhelmed you reach up to kiss him and he does with a growl. He doesn’t push you away like when you stole his first kiss. No. He pulls you closer turning you around until you’re chest to chest.

Your hand rests against his shoulders your fingernails digging into his skin as you feel one of his fingers enter you without warning. Yoongi swallows your sounds with his mouth pushing his finger in and out of your pussy until your essence is running down his wrist. He adds another one and another one stretching your walls as he devours your mouth your hips moving along without you noticing. Getting into the rhythm of riding his fingers. You need to pull back to get some air in between the kisses. His hungry expression manages to steal your last remaining string of sanity. The cloth around you barely covers you anymore and Yoongi goes to remove it and leave you entirely naked before him.

His attention goes to your perky nipples both hands grabbing a handful and pepper kisses around the mound.

So far he doesn’t look strange. Not that you have any experience of what you should see in a situation like this. You conclude that your newly formed tattoos are one of the few things that are specific to his race.

His tongue is cold it makes you shiver when he sucks on one of your nipples. He’s so cold but his coolness is welcomed by your feverish body.

“Lay down.” You do as he tells you. Eagerly and shamelessly open your legs and welcome him between them. This is really happening you realise when he takes off his clothes. His pale skin is pretty and cool against you. Even his cock lined with cold blue veins is pretty and cold when he rubs it between your folds. It’s big and hard like a rock against you. Yoongi can see how you tense up after seeing his size.

“It won’t hurt if you do as I tell you.” He caresses your cheek with his thumb kissing you surprisingly sweetly.

“O-okay.” You nod. You wanted this. You can’t back down now. This is your only chance to live a life without hardships. You’re going to take everything that he gives you.

“This will make it feel better.” Yoongi licks his finger and when it comes into contact with your clit you feel an overwhelming pleasure bloom inside you. His saliva is heightening your pleasure having some kind of chemical in it that helps you feel kind of high. It blocks the pain when his veiny head pushes through the tight rim of your muscle. You and Yoongi watch how his long cock disappears in you inch by inch. It doesn’t hurt at all as he keeps his thumb on your clit, only making you feel full.

“Too much.” You put your hand on your stomach and feel him sitting inside. He makes way no matter how much your body tries to constrict around the intrusion. He reaches your deepest part shaping you into his size.

“There. All in.” Yoongi chuckles when he sees you struggle. You want to stay still and move at the same time. It feels good and strange but too good. You want him to move but on the other hand, you need time to get accustomed to this fullness. Yoongi can see the outline of his cock bulge out of your tummy and he experimentally pushes against your skin. Your pussy pulse around him and get tighter as he massages your lower belly. “How does it feel my little human? Do you feel good?”

You nod kissing him back with passion as your tongues rub together. He continues his descent down your body kissing your neck and breasts. Filling your body with pretty black ink. You pulse and throb around him as he remains unmoving inside you. Not enough you roll your hips trying to show him you want him to move.

“Answer me. Does my cock make you feel good?” At first, he only pulls out a little before he thrusts back testing the waters before he pulls out more as he uses a steady pace to rock into you.

“Yes. Yes. So good please don’t stop. Fuck me harder.” Yoongi wonders how his wife learned how to say such dirty words in his language but he’s thankful for it as his cock appreciates the compliments. Just like you asked he fucks you harder hitting that spot inside you with more deep thrusts.

“Yoongi. Yoongi.” The way you moan his name spurs him on, grabbing your ankles he sinks the remaining inch inside you.

“Ah. Y/N.” He responds with your own name. Grabbing your hips he pumps his cock in and out of you at a fast pace until you can remember his shape. This is the first time he says your name and your walls constrict around him hearing him moaning it. He’s growing addicted to the feel of you. He can hear and smell and see you. The way your pussy swallows him in your tight and wet heat ruined every expectation he had before.

You feel way better than he imagined.

Your tits bounce with each thrust and your moans never cease to slip from your dry throat as he buries his shaft to the hilt.

“Yoongi, I feel weird.” You grab his hand need something to hold onto as you feel this weird tightness in your belly. Yoongi could sense you were almost there tripping over the edge of bliss you became tighter around him. You’re growing sensitive.

“I know. Hold onto me, my sweet wife.” You hold his hand as he twists it behind your back the position is uncomfortable but the minute his cock slips back inside your heat you forget about it as it reaches new places inside you. Your back is arched one hand is firmly holding you and the other is placed on your hips.

This position allows him to hit even deeper the tip of his cock curves around a spot that has you see stars. You’re panting with your face nearly suffocating against the bed. Unable to move or hold yourself up you’re entirely kept in place by the help of Yoongi. The tightness in your chest explodes as you cream around Yoongi’s cock. He doesn’t stop there he fucks you through overstimulation keeping up with his ruthless pace you tear through the bedsheets. His long fat cock claims your pussy as his with a heavy load of cum. The tattoos on your body all settle down as he finishes with a few sloppy thrusts into your buttered hole.

Once he pulls out you can feel his thick cum pour out and his fingers trace your tattoos painting your body with his whiteness until everything about you is covered in him. He doesn’t stop there, he pries your shaking legs open and latches onto your sensitive bud. Yoongi pushes his cum back with two of his fingers as his tongue flicks over your clit. It’s too much and you try to push his face away but he doesn’t budge. He holds both of your hands in his tight grip on your stomach as he continues to feast on your pussy.

“Yoongi. Oh, uh.” You squirm but you can’t escape his hold. “Please. Stop, i-it’s too much.” Tears start to roll down your cheeks the next orgasm you experience hurts so bad but you can’t deny how it feels incredible at the same time. More intense than the previous one you had you let go with a cry of his name and cum around his fingers.

“No. More.” Yoongi looks up after registering your hiccup and goes up to soothe you. His tongue licks your tears away showering your neck and face with kisses until your crying subsides.

Yoongi looks you over and while he finds you utterly appealing covered in his cum he has a concerned look in his eyes. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” He pulls you close to his chest but after your senses come back one by one you start to feel his sticky cum all over you. Some still gush out of your hole as he hugs you to his body.

“No.” You shake your head reassuring him with a kiss. You don’t want to admit you cried because he felt so good.

This is the first time you experienced something like this. You’re in no way an expert but you know that his dick is not like any human males you’ve encountered in your books. They shouldn’t be so cold and big and the small ridges that kept rubbing your insides felt weird but incredibly good at the same time.

Even when he’s not aroused he’s so big. You want to touch it. “Can I?” Asking for permission you reach for his cock that rests against your leg but you don’t touch it until you get the green light for it.

“Sure.” Yoongi chuckles at your curiosity. It hasn’t been a hot minute that his dick was inside you but you want to touch it.

“It’s cold.” You muse, it’s slick with both of your cum so you could drag it up and down easily. Yoongi’s gasp catches in his throat it’s still sensitive but he lets you pump it until it’s hard again. You grow curious about how it tastes so you lick around the head as your hand moves up and down in slow motion. It doesn’t really taste like anything to you. Easy to swallow. You take your place in between his legs to get comfortable. Yoongi shivers when he feels your hot mouth around his most sensitive cockhead. You dip your tongue into the slit earning a loud groan from Yoongi his hand rests on top of your head only moving to get the hair out of his view of you sucking his cock.

“Do you like it?” You wonder if it feels good for him. This is the first time you’re doing this.

“Y-Yes, keep going.” You take more of him into your mouth encouraged by his hooded eyes that watch you. “Your mouth is very warm. It feels incredible.” You hum around a mouthful of cock he’s too big for you to get even half of him into your mouth. You stroke the skin that you can’t lick and you focus on his head instead of trying to choke on his cock. Even though you don’t think he wouldn’t like to see you choke on his length trying to fit everything. He reassures you that he likes everything you do to him. He doesn’t try to push your head down and you appreciate his thoughtfulness with an enthusiastic bob of your head up and down his length. He fills your mouth so much that it’s hard for you to swallow around it.

He's throbbing between your lips as you kiss the tip. He shows you how much he’s enjoying it with his lewd moans and sweet touches on your face and the back of your head. Contemplating what you should do with yourself you decide to give in to the desire once more. You want to have him again that it outweighs your concern to be able to take him after such a short time but it doesn’t deter you as you climb on his lap.

“Help me?” You ask shyly rubbing on his fully hard cock.

“Of course,” Yoongi replies with a smirk he can see how needy you are and he won’t deny his pretty wife anything. He kisses your lips sucking on your tongue as he guides your hips to hover over his cockhead.

He touches and kisses every mark and tattoo that appears on your skin.

You sink slowly at your own pace feeling full but you overcome the stretch of your body remembering his shape makes it easier for you to bury it fully into you. He’s big and hard as a rock inside you.

You need him to help you move but he’s more than eager to lift you and have you bounce on his cock. He’s wound up from your previous actions he had no idea he would be this turned on by seeing your small hands and mouth wrapped around his dick. You smell delicious he can’t help but kiss every inch he can reach as he guides you through the motions. You bounce on his cock your expression entirely clouded by pleasure as he hits the best spots inside your spongy walls. Yoongi kneads your ass pulling them apart to watch his cock disappear inside your small pussy. Your body might be coated in his cum but his cock is entirely coated in your arousal and cum until he shoots a fresh load inside your spent hole.

The others don’t see you the next couple of days only catch the back of Yoongi as he carries fresh food for you.

#bts smut #bts fanfiction #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfiction #bts fic #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #bts alien au #bts fantasy au #alien bts #alien bts au #bts #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #alien yoongi #kpop smut #kpop fanfiction

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planetdream · 4 months

Text

PLUTO !

CHARACTERS ! vampire!lee minho, human!reader [ft. human!kim seungmin, servant!han jisung]

GENRE ! horror/thriller—vampire!au. “romance”. smut. minors dni.

SYNOPSIS ! when your fiancé, seungmin, fails to return home after notifying you of his departure from count minho's estate, you decide to search for answers yourself.

WORDS ! 12.2k more or less

THIS FIC CONTAINS ! writing inspired by the various varieties of dracula. horror [vampirism. gore—body horror: details of blood and bloodsucking. spiders. strange creatures. nightmares and overall very lucid dreams. allusions to character death.] hypnosis. hallucinations. manipulation and gaslighting. kidnapping? and references to religion [christianity/catholicism], prayers and comparisons to a Higher Power™. mentions of food. infidelity and smut [one wet dream. pussy eating—a lil bush appreciation. hair pulling. big dick minho. grinding. fingering. worship. term master used once. degradation—whore shaming. choking. nipple play/breast fondling. lots of spit. squirt n cum.]

💌 extremely self indulgent. all the thanks and love in the world to the homie, @cosmicbyeol for beta-ing for me n overall being an incredible help !!! 🥺 also, as always, accepting feedback and constructive criticism!!

The last three weeks have been weary, to say the least. You had been elated as your fiancé, Seungmin, was scheduled to arrive back in the city after a nearly two-month-long business trip. With the day of his return steadily approaching, you found yourself excitedly performing various small tasks in preparation for the moment you finally see him again. Then the big day arrives and Seungmin is nowhere to be found. No big deal; perhaps his arrival is a bit late, or he may need time to himself to unwind after long travels. If anything, he’ll show up at your door the next day with flowers and a gift, ready to tell you all about his journey and the people he’d made connections with.

Then the fourth day comes, and by that point, you’re knocking on his front door but to no answer. You stroll past his home on your evening walks and the lights aren’t on. You’ve revisited the post office, checked in with relatives; and still, nothing. Seungmin is seemingly lost to space and time. By the sixth day, you’ve written a letter to Count Minho, the friend and business partner that Seungmin had been staying with; explaining the situation and the fact that you’ll be visiting while in search of Seungmin.

Count Minho is a mystery to you. Seungmin never spoke with you about his relations with the Count, and you never pried into the specifics of his work business. From what you do know, Seungmin’s work involves him being in contact with several different people from real estate to archaeologists and historians, to priesthoods and other religious leaders. You simply assumed Count Minho had been one of the aforementioned, or possibly an artifact seller or buyer; as Seungmin is interested in the hobby himself, and has countless other buyers and sellers he knows. While the Count is a mystery, you feel that there is a possibility that he can lead you back into the arms of your lover.

After a few days of planning and packing, you finally decide to get started on your journey. By the Sunday of the third week, you’re lodging with some very nice people in the town nearest to Count Minho’s estate—which is only about a two-hour distance away—you choose to stay in the village to get the word out about Seungmin.

The townsfolk are a welcoming and lively bunch. You were fed, rested, and told stories of both local legends and the juiciest gossip around town. On the eve of your final night in town before you join the Count, you mentioned him, and the room fell silent. A feeling of unease weaved its way into the small kitchen you’d been standing in. The two women beside you failed to meet your gaze. You had already been told of the creatures said to be lurking through the forests between town and the area of the Count’s estate. A classic story of a wolfman who is out to kidnap unsuspecting young men and women; only brought up because of very recent alleged sightings.

A third woman finally spoke up. Urging you to forego your plan of visiting what she called such a vile and off-putting man. There’s a legend about the man who lives in the castle at the edge of the forest—whom you presume to be Count Minho—who comes into town during the night of the first full moon of the spring season, with the sole purpose of terrorizing people in their homes; feasting on their organs and drinking their blood. The last occurrence happened nine springs ago: a family of five, two completely drained of blood and tossed to the side, with another two torn piece-by-piece; left mixed in a pool of wasted blood. There had been one remaining survivor, eyes removed from their sockets, who only could say one thing: “He called himself God.”

Though the story terrified you—you refused to let that stop you. If Count Minho is some extraordinary beast, then let you be the one to stop him if it means you get to become one with Seungmin again.

Alas, the day to meet Count Minho has come, and the women you shared dinner with last night are appalled to hear that you were insistent on making your way to Count Minho’s estate. Knowing that they cannot stop you, they wish you luck and pray for you, gifting you a crucifix for safety on your journey.

By the time you approach Count Minho’s estate, it is about an hour after sundown. The sky begins to dim rapidly, as the former golden-pink hue of the sky begins to turn into a deep purple and later fading into black. The temperature drops by the hour but thankfully the winter season is coming to an end. The snow is already clearing up, and in a couple days it will have been long gone and forgotten for generous showers of rain.

Your arrival, predestined and arranged to be brought by carriage, led you here. And as you pull into the gates of the estate, an unsettling feeling hits you. Deep in the pit of your stomach as if something had crawled inside of you and is now scratching to be freed. Despite that, the feeling of discomfort quickly begins to wash over you, seemingly dispersing into fascination—like a group of butterflies or a bouquet of flowers flourished within your body and spirit. You feel a lot lighter, elevated as if a veil was pulled over you.

You can hardly see the castle in the darkness, but if you strain your eyes hard enough, you may be able to see the silhouette of the grand estate. Though that’s no use, the surrounding forest, and deep black sky work as a void, shielding away any ounce of natural light, encompassing the castle within its secrets. The moon, nearly full, and friendly to those who respect it, is useless as the structure of the castle casts away the inquisitive nature of the celestial body—nothing will be brought to light or justice tonight.

The carriage, drawn by three black horses, halts in front of the main entrance. Several long, white, cylinder candles light up the main door of the Count’s castle. The entrance is similar to that of a cathedral’s—two heavy-looking doors adorned with indescribable red patterns; swirling into shapes that seemingly recreate human-like faces. It’s vague. At a simple glance, the patterns reflected by the candlelight look like faces, but the longer you look at them you realize otherwise. The patterns seemingly have no rhyme or reason, endless red swirls that are simply just decorations.

Atop the door is a large arch, and in the dead center is a sculpture of a man—perhaps it’s of the Count. In the brief flicker of the flame, you can see the face of the sculpture. Its face is horrid, angry even; a permanent scowl displayed. But in that short second, you notice its eyes, big and red, fixated directly on you. There’s a chill that runs down your spine in that brief moment of eye contact. And while every nerve in your body warns you, there are matters that the Count needs to assist you with that are bigger than just a feeling.

In your deep thought, one of the doors opens with a loud screech, almost like the scream of someone. It garners a gasp from you, shaking you out of your head and back into reality. Before you know it, your feet are moving faster than your brain and you step out of the carriage. Collecting your bags and holding them tightly, thanking the coachman for bringing you safely. As you turn back to the door, it’s open wider than before, but still, the Count is nowhere in sight.

You walk closer, hand reaching up to touch the door and you enter, eyes unable to find a resting place. There are candles everywhere, several of them as if there are no electrical lights within the place, despite the huge chandelier hanging from above. The smell of the place does not come from the candles—it’s something else that draws you in, a familiar scent perhaps from your past, but you’re unable to put your finger on it. You step further into the home and when you do, the door behind you slams shut, making you jump and turn back.

The slam is followed by an unsettling silence, practically deafening. You call out.

“Hello?” You look around. Just ahead of you is a long hallway, lit up with candles. You’re not sure how long the hallway is, as at a certain point, the light from the flames is no longer visible, fading into a pitch-black blanket. The walls are decorated with cobwebs and a boring gold and red damask; the colors are fading, or at the very least very dusty and in need of upkeep. The floorboards are wooden and when you shift, they make an awful creaking noise. This castle has been around for a long time—centuries even, likely and believably kept within the Count’s family. Modernity has not caught up to it.

“Hello?” You begin again. “I’m Y/N. I wrote to you a few weeks ago as I had some inquiries for you about Seungmin.”

Your voice trails off. There’s a cloud of unease that reigns above you, and still, as you stand in the foyer of this already strange place, there’s a familiar warmth that surrounds you. When you breathe in, your chest expands, hair brushing against your neck as you sigh in both contentment and exhaustion.

“Good evening,” You heard his voice, but you hadn’t heard him come over. “I have been expecting you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but any aforethought words get caught in your throat at the sight of him. He’s gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. You catch his eyes immediately, locked into his stare, lost in the deep sands of his chocolate brown eyes. There’s a soft yet teasing nature behind them and it draws you in, latching onto you. He looks to be a lot younger than the age you heard him to be. His lips curve into a smile as he sticks his hand out for you to shake. Though, quite frankly, you’re not sure if you’re supposed to bow to him or not.

“Yes, um,” You shake his hand, giving a small, shy smile. You’re unable to take your eyes off of him.

“Come on. You must be cold and tired, let us go sit.” He speaks before you get the chance, letting you collect your thoughts. “Feel free to leave your things there. They will be collected.”

You nod, setting your belongings down and following Count Minho deeper into the castle. You’re unsure if it is because you’re a bit tired, or some very serious architectural error, but the interior of the castle is like a labyrinth of sorts. The Count opens a door you initially assumed to be a room—but instead turned into another hall of rooms. He turns left on his heels and into a side room, you follow along.

The room you enter is small but comfortable enough for three or four people to have their space. Ahead of you are big windows, covered with thick black curtains that scrape against the floor. To your right is a fireplace, a huge flame already burning and keeping the room nice and toasty. On the right are three large bookcases that reach the ceiling, the multicolored spines of the books add little pops of color. In front of you are two velvet chairs facing the fireplace, divided by a porcelain side table and atop of it are two books and a tea set.

The room is very neat overall. A couple of misplaced books here and there, sat on the floor. Otherwise, it’s eerily neat. As if the Count rarely uses the room but chronically dusts because everything is just for decoration. The Count takes a seat and as he beckons you over, eyes diverted from your face, as he pours you a cup of tea. You move hastily, sitting at the chair across from him.

“Hibiscus,” He says, a small smile on his face. “It also seems that I’m forgetting my manners. Those in the town call me the Count, however, you are welcome to call me Minho.”

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet with and host me,” You begin, ready to get to the point. The Count—Minho—nods. “As I mentioned in the letter sent, I’ve arrived here to look for my fiancé, Seungmin. I’ve only received letters from his arrival and departure, and not many in between those times; which is unlike him on his usual work trips. It’s been weeks now, three to be exact. And since you are a friend of his, I was hoping you knew of his whereabouts.”

“I fear I will be of little to no help to you, my dear.” His choice of words, while peculiar, are selected carefully. “Seungmin is a near and dear friend to my heart and I truly hope that he is safe, wherever he may be. The thing I can say is, he had been acting a bit—” He pauses, seemingly pondering on the right word to say before continuing. “A bit…abnormal.”

“He had been here at your home for nearly two months, what exactly do you mean by abnormal?” You inquire, pressing Minho to say more, not caring of how your tone might sound.

“He began to have these dreams, and some active hallucinations. Completely plagued by them. Night terrors, I’d say. He feared whatever he had seen, and while he initially confided in me about it, he soon concluded that I was untrustworthy. Somehow, Seungmin lost touch with reality.”

Plagued by nightmares is something that you take note of. A month into Seungmin’s stay at the Count’s castle, you began to have these vivid dreams. Some good, some horrendously terrifying and, well, a large percentage of particularly electrifying dreams. The most recent—waves crashing together on a violent stormy night on the sea. You’re aboard a ship, standing in the center of the forecastle, and all around you are piled up bodies; and there’s blood on your hands and arms, staining your skin. Blood soaking into the fabric of your clothing. It felt immensely real. You felt the unease of the rocking boat, you heard the crashing of the waves and the squawks of the birds circling overhead. Weirdest of all, you could smell the blood; almost craving it. The dream ends with the sounds of a heart beating and the rushing of blood flooding to your brain. And then there’s nothingness.

The Count takes a sip of his tea, and you choose to follow suit. Though, the tea is bitter, even with the added sugar, and not slightly tart as Hibiscus tends to be. Quite frankly, the taste is gross, but you drink out of respect. You do your best to keep a straight face at the taste, quickly setting down the cup. A small smile appears on Minho’s face, exhaling with a short laugh.

There’s a knock at the entrance of the door. In the frame of the door stands a slender figured man who seems to be a tad shorter than the Count. He’s rather cute with his medium length hair and round cheeks, though he wears a blank expression on his face. He turns to you, doing a brief bow and opening his mouth to speak.

Minho interjects first, walking towards the other man. “This is Han. Very simply, Mr. Han is my servant. Forgive me, Han here, was supposed to see to your arrival, but he had other obligations to take care of.”

The two look at each other, but only the Count smiles. Han keeps the same stoic facial expression, looking more exhausted than anything. The Count begins speaking once again. “Y/N, here, is the fiancé of Mr. Kim. You remember Mr. Kim, don’t you, Han? Y/N informs me that Mr. Kim didn’t arrive safely back home, now is that right?”

The Count looks to you, and you stand from your seat, nodding. “I’ve gotten a letter of his departure but he hasn’t been home yet,” You let out a deep sigh. “I just miss him so much. I hope that he’s safe wherever he is.”

The air in the room is thick with tension. For the three of you, this has to be an outstanding situation right? For you, as young as you are, to have the love of your life—the man you plan to marry and give yourself to—to go missing without much word. And for the Count, who has been a longtime friend of Seungmin, having to deal with the weight of potentially being the last one to see Seungmin.

“A friend of Count Minho is a friend of mine,” Jisung smiles. “I’ll do my best to help you find Mr. Kim.”

Han and the Count step off to the side to exchange words briefly. Han turns to leave and the Count turns back to you. “Hungry by chance?”

The dining room is rather spacious, and includes a fireplace, which seems to be a running theme within the Castle. The wooden floor panels are mostly covered by a large, deep red rug. Red is the main color of the decor of the room; the velvet dining chairs and all the flowers,—from the pansies to the roses—even the dinner plates; are red. Despite this, it’s clear that Count Minho has quite a bit of money to have afforded all of this: from paintings to small artifacts that decorate end tables and small statues of gargoyles. Perhaps he is indeed a collector of sorts.

Minho pulls out your chair, pushing it back in once you’re seated. He then takes his seat at the other end of the table. There’s a spread of food on the table and various bottles of wine, to which the Count motions for you to help yourself to. After making yourself a plate, you pour yourself a glass of wine—a red, twirling the liquid within the glass, foregoing the tradition of smelling the aroma and instead shooting it straight back. The wine is rather sweet and washes down smoothly; more like juice than a wine.

Count Minho watches you eat with inquisitive eyes, studying you. He drinks from his wine glass as he stares at you. “What exactly do you know about your fiancé’s career?”

You meet his gaze, eyes fixated on you with a squint; it all makes you a bit uncomfortable. It’s like Minho can read every bit of you with just a simple look.

“Not very much.” You admit.

“Oh?” The Count is especially interested now. “Had he told you anything about me then?”

“No. Only that you were a long-time friend.” You pour another glass of wine. “Although..”

You trail off, unsure of if you should mention the story you heard from the town. You look at the Count, and he raises an eyebrow to you.

“I had been staying in the town nearby for a few days before coming here. And well, I’m not too sure how to explain it. The only things I know of you come from word of mouth, and well, they aren’t very good.”

“Go On.”

You recite to him the story you had been told about the man in the castle who would come into the town and terrorize its citizens. At the end of the story, Minho erupts in laughter. He’s holding his stomach and chuckling, wiping faux tears from his eyes.

“Let us just say, I have more valuable things to do than whatever that is,” Minho rolls his eyes. “I only ask because you intrigue me. That, and I never thought of Seungmin as someone who would lie to their lover, really.”

The word lie is interesting. You’d always perceived Seungmin to be an honest man, really. The two of you forged your relationship on the basis of being fully honest with each other. You never thought you would ever come close to doubting Seungmin nor his truthfulness, his faithfulness even; but Count Minho’s tone of voice—the seriousness coating every bit of breath he takes—along with the fact that you don’t truly know of Seungmin’s work, has you second guessing yourself. Now it’s your turn to press him.

“Continue.”

“I’m saying, you don’t know what the man does for a living but you choose to throw away all inhibitions and potentially roll yourself into danger for a man you almost transparently know next to nothing about.” The Count pauses to sip more of his wine. “Seungmin was into things of the rather unusual variety, I’ll have you know. If you want, I can show you the things that he and I were discussing.”

You take Minho up on his offer, and he gives you a small smile in return.

“While I’d love to get to work on such matters tonight, I’m afraid I must go to sleep. I have some important matters to tend to in the morning. Shall I show you where you’ll be staying?”

—

You follow Minho, out of the dining room and down the endless hallway. The wallpaper is practically peeling, and the higher ceiling riddled with cobwebs notably hasn’t been cleaned up in quite a longtime. The obvious decades old paintings that were placed against the walls had been covered in dust and grime, dimming the vibrancy intended by their various artists. He then stops at a white door, turning the knob to open it. The room is dark and cavernous, but with the help of a lit candle sharing its warmth with the candles previously naked and cold, you see that it’s actually quite spacious and bright. White and light brown decor gives the room a light and more alive look in comparison to the thick dreariness of the parts of the castle you’ve seen so far. It’s almost like venturing into another world, or peeking back into an oddly shaped past.

“Breakfast will be served early in the morning. Sleep well.” And with a smile, Minho exits, closing the door behind him.

In the silence, thoughts begin to fester, nipping away at your well-being. You’ve gotten next to nothing so far from this meeting with the Count, but tomorrow is a new day and you hope he can give you insight into this world of Seungmin that seems to be unraveling. It’s confusing—for a brief moment you find yourself questioning your decisions. Have all of your life choices led you to this exact moment? The Count is vague in his ways of doing things—it’s like he’s not even trying to hide the potential of his true nature. He appears like any other person, but there’s something more to him than what meets the eye. You’ve been caught in a web of mystery, slowly sinking deeper and deeper.

You find that your bags are sitting next to the bed and you reach in to find your night clothes. Once you lift your shirt over your head, you cannot help but feel like eyes are watching you. Covering yourself, you scan the room in an attempt to soothe your psyche, and as expected, you remain completely alone. Shaking the feeling, chalking it up to being nervous about being in yet another new place, you continue to change your clothing. Sitting at the edge of the bed, you reach into your bag to pull out a letter you received from Seungmin.

“My dearest heart,

There is not a moment that goes by where I am not thinking of you. On my lonely and rather daunting work evenings, I look to the sky and am reminded that we share the same view together. You are the one thing keeping me balanced and sane. I know that you are waiting for me to return, and I want nothing more than to return to the safety of your warmth. Until then, look to the sky and be reminded of me.

K.S”

Once finished reading, you press the letter against your chest. The second to last letter you received. Initially, it was rather hard to sleep at night after you received it. You had longed for your lover—missed his existence to no end, and you still do. There is nothing in the world that you would rather have than the gift of your lover returning to safety. You long for Seungmin, aching for the chance to finally touch him again. To hug, to kiss, to feel every inch of him once again. Today marks the third week since you had last heard from Seungmin, and from tonight onward, you demand to get the answers you deserve.

You gently place the letter onto the nightstand. You kneel onto the floor, elbows pressed against the bed with your hands together in prayer. You had never been religious, nor, in a situation in which you felt you needed to pray before—but it has become a habit of the last few weeks. Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply.

“Dear God,” You begin. “Please align me with my lover. Please return him to me safely.”

Pulling back the covers, you snuggle into the bed, drifting off into an idyllic night's sleep.

You’re stuck. Seemingly, your body is paralyzed; hands resting at your sides, legs pressed together. You try to move, starting with a pinky and then your foot, but the longer time goes on, the more your ability to move lessens. Unable to even move your head left or right. You’re completely stuck. Not to mention, stuck in some complete void of a room, unable to see anything.

There’s a vibration around you. It’s a subtle vibration, though you can feel your body swaying back and forth as if suspended in the air somehow. Just then, there’s a spotlight. It shines in your face before spirling in circles, lighting up various parts of the area you are in; but still, there’s nothing but darkness, even in the brightness of the light. Just until you view a quick flash of something briefly catching the light. The light runs from the figure before spinning back to shine itself on the mystery.

Despite its distance away, you can see the thickness of the short hairs that decorate the body of the arachnid. The many eyes of the spider sparkle in the light, its eight moving legs speeding their way over to you. You watch as it clicks its mouth, salivating as it makes its way to its fresh catch.

Here you are: a mere fly in the realm of the spider.

At a blink of an eye, the spider is circling you, inching closer and closer until you can no longer see it from your horizontal position. Suddenly! It lurches, jumping atop of you. The spider sinks its fangs into you, piercing your skin harshly, burning. The attack against your skin causes blood to splash everywhere, spraying onto your face and body. You shriek in horror—attempting to send signals for your body to wake up from its terror. Your entire body burns; throat dry and brittle from yelling so much. The area around where the spider’s fangs are latched inside of you, both itches and stings. Feels like you’re getting pumped for your blood yet also injected with its venom.

If possible, your body gets stiffer. Cold. Vision fading.. And fading until there’s nothingness. All you can feel is the body of the eight-legged creature draped over you; taking and taking freely.

Despite the nightmare, you feel rather refreshed waking up. A minimal amount of light shines through the curtains. Stepping out of bed to the faint smell of food, you yawn and stretch briefly before heading to the closed door. Stepping into the hall from the confines of the room you spent the night in, you take a few steps across the hall to look out into the window. It looks bright and comfortable outside, a stark difference between the drab, dreariness of the castle’s interior.

When you arrive at the dining room, there’s a full spread of food. Toast, tea, and a plethora of fruits and berries. In the daylight, the interior of the dining room looks a lot dustier, as if it's barely used. And to be fair, it seems as though only the Count and his dedicated servant occupy the estate. Which you wonder about—does Count Minho have no family? And what about Mr. Han? Any lovers? Who exactly is the Count and what was Seungmin’s business with him?

“Will Count Minho be eating with us?” You ask as you take a seat.

“Sir is taking care of some business this morning. This breakfast is all yours.”

“You won’t be eating?”

“Ah,” Jisung sighs with a smile. “I had a big breakfast earlier.”

With that, Jisung lets you begin eating. He simply just stands there, and while his eyes aren't on you, you can feel him observing your presence, similar to Minho.

“So, Mr. Han,” Playing with your food as you speak. “How long have you worked for Count Minho?”

“Only a few years. Feels like a lifetime, though,” He turns to you, a small smile on his face.

“Are you also a friend of Seungmin?”

“I’d only spoken to Mr. Kim a few times before his most recent visit. I typically stay out of all of Count Minho’s business affairs. I prefer to deal with the home side of things,” Jisung nods. “Speaking of, you’re free to explore the castle if you’d like. The Count won’t return until later.”

“Really? Are you sure he’ll be okay with it?” The opportunity to explore this grand castle piques your interest. You raise your eyebrow towards Han and he nods in response.

“It’s no problem, really. To warn you, some rooms aren’t used as much anymore so they might be a bit untidy. Almost time for some spring cleaning.” Han gives you a short, dorky laugh. He’s adorable, if that’s the word. He seems to be on the more timid side, probably doesn’t speak to many people other than Count Minho on any given day. “Jisung, by the way, you can call me that.”

“It’s nice to officially meet you.” You smile. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

Jisung nods.

“What room did Seungmin stay in?”

“The room that you are staying in.”

The castle looks rather different during the daylight. The hallways feel hollow, completely blank despite the moderate amount of clutter in the form of various books and paintings littering the sidelines. While the idea of a large estate is stunning, it is clearly a bit too much for only the Count and Mr. Han. You wonder if Count Minho has been previously married—or even married at all; to be fair he looks a little young, but it’s possible he’s had a lover in the past. Perhaps that’s why he’s so understanding of your pursuit to find Seungmin.

You return to your room. Beginning at the bedside table, you tour around the room, looking for clues that might help you. Searching the dressers in the room, you make your way over towards the small desk in the far corner. Opening the drawers of the desk, there remains nothing but untouched letter paper. Scanning the area for any unchecked marks, your eyes fall towards the bed. Dropping to your knees, you crawl the short distance to the edge of the bed. Pulling the bed skirt up in anticipation only to be left with nothing but dust bunnies. This initial search leaves you empty handed but you go off to make your way through the rest of the Castle.

The castle is indeed like a labyrinth. Some doors open to an empty, decrepit room of various doors. Admittedly, you’re a bit too afraid to open one of the random doors. You’re not familiar with the layout of the estate, and you refuse to get too deep into this trap of a home. One door opens to a windowless room, and the singular wooden chair in the middle causes you to back out of said room slowly.

Continuing on your pursuit through the endless halls of Count Minho’s estate, you approach a doorless room. Without needing to walk in, you can tell by the bookcases that it’s a library of sorts. Making your way through the entryway of the library, you find that the temperature of the room is noticeably colder than the hall. The library has dark wooden shelves filled with books from the ceiling to the floor, and you know that if Seungmin was here, he’d be able to tell when and where the shelves were constructed. He would always pick up little pieces of knowledge like that—claiming that he didn’t know why yet, but knowing such would help further him in life; and importantly, in his studies.

You run your fingers over the spines of the books as you stroll your ways through the library. There are books spanning across language and subject—the majority of it, completely unidentifiable to you.

You come across a leather-bound book displayed on one of the bookshelves, cover forward. It’s dark, dusty, and might even be a little dirty. The cover of the book itself is twisted, the skin of the book twists and dives into different layers, somehow folding the cover of the book inside of itself. It’s complex and strange, unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. Just to hold it, the weight of the book is heavy, somehow warming up in temperature. To feel the book, to hold it in your hands, it intrigues you just as much as it disgusts you.

The language of text presented on the pages is unknown to you. The drawings that accompany the writings, however, are disturbing. Dark and detailed illustrations of creatures that you would never have thought of. Upon the first page is a visualization of a winged creature with the distant silhouette of a man. Only there’s a huge eye where the head would be, and its legs are tangled and twisted together. Turning a page, you’re presented with another drawing. An illustration in charcoal of a dark figure. The drawing looks as though it’s been drawn in haste; a rushed, frantic effort. Alongside is another illustration of a mouth—though without ink, the artist did their best to emphasize the splotches of blood that stain the mouth. What stands out the most are the set of razor sharp canines that protrude from the teeth—two sets, specifically. Beholds, the only romanization on the page: Vampyre.

A chill runs down your spine, but you’re unable to remove yourself from the grasp that the book has. Turning page after page, overstimulating yourself with various images of creatures that are likely to lurk in the shadows. The longer you examine, the more your head pounds. Nausea interrupting all plans you may have had. Head spinning and spinning, visions bending and thrawn within itself. Figments of the images you’ve viewed imprinting themselves on your vision in dark splotches like a memory. The new and the strange tangling itself within your memories, hiding within them for safe keeping.

“Y/N?” There’s a light voice that breaks you out of your spell.

When you come to, Count Minho is standing over you, his cold hand pressed against your forehead. You look around the room, sitting in an opposite corner of the library than you originally remembered.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“I’m not too sure,” You sit up straight in your seat. You look towards the open window and the sky outside is completely dark. Somehow, it appears that hours have passed. What a freaky and strange thing.

When you look up at Minho from your position on the chair, you’re immediately pulled into the pools of his eyes, locked in. “You must be hungry, yeah? It’s dinner time.”

Just like last night, Minho leads you to the dining room. Just like last night, he slides your chair out and pushes it in for you. The spread of food tonight is different from last night, and you notice that some of the decor around the room looks different as well. Your vision hasn’t quite recovered from its hectically blurred state, and in your moment of disillusion, none of this interests you.

“Is there something wrong?” Minho asks as he sits. What isn’t wrong? You feel a rather painful shift in your own mood.

“I think I might be a bit tired.” You exhale. Despite aching for the continuous pursuit of knowledge, sickness continues to trail behind you. Uncertainty creeping its way up to the forefront of your thoughts. You’re unable to escape the feeling that there might be something seriously wrong. Anxiety rests in the pit of your stomach, slowly eating away at you. Refusing to look at Minho, you pick at the food on your plate. Honestly, you feel rather sick. Your vision, while still painfully blurry, continues to spin ever so slightly. Placing your hand flat against your forehead to find that you’re burning up on flu type levels. You look across the table toward Minho and your vision doubles, triples, then suddenly you're seeing eight versions of him.

It’s a bit of a hassle to move the heaviness of your hand, fingers slowly creeping up to grasp onto the wine glass. You close your eyes to soothe your vision, taking the glass into your hand fully.

Minho coos. “I was really looking forward to dinner with you; but if you’re tired we can postpone our conversation.”

Taking a sip and allowing it to savor on your tongue. The slight, unsuspecting note of pomegranate makes you smile—something comforting in the mixture of mess you’re currently feeling.

Grace be to God. When you open your eyes, your vision returns to normal. It’s something of a miracle.

“No. It’s fine. That strange book in the library,” You look at Minho and struggle to find the words. All that remains in your head is visuals of every creature you saw depictions of.

“What book?” He doesn’t follow.

“It has drawings of these strange creatures in it. Some kind of horror book, I think it made me a bit sick.”

“I’ll tell Han to search for it so that I can have a look,”

Dinner continues with only a few moments of silence. The topics range from a variety—the original focus of conversation on Seungmin before venturing off elsewhere. Count Minho gives you insight on what he does; referring to himself as someone who studies human nature, communication and our state of existence. He loves the study of humans and thus dedicates his life to it, choosing to be of help in any way he could be. Of which, is how he met Seungmin, and from there, they became partners due to their similar interests. Somewhere, is a layer of information that Count Minho refuses to give up so soon.

“May I walk you to your room?” Minho asks, rather politely, but your room is not too far from your current position. Still, you say yes to him.

Unlike dinner, the very short walk is in total silence, but Minho’s presence is comforting. You reach the door to your room in no time and Minho steps in front of you before you can say anything. The silence continues as Minho and you stare at each other. Though, the silence turns to static when Minho leans in to kiss you. His lips on yours and you don’t even bother to pull away. Instead, you kiss back, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He pulls away in haste, muttering a goodbye before walking off into the darkness of the hall.

You step into your room and therefore, instantly step into a pool of guilt and confusion. Seungmin is so far from the forefront of your mind—for you to indulge in a kiss with another man and to not think once about your lover. What kind of monster have you become?

Once changed into your night clothes, you peel under the covers and you pray. You don’t feel like yourself, and the feeling creeped upon you. The thoughts in your brain are mixed together, both elaborate and unintelligible, a mixture of things you know and things you never knew. Images of those same creatures stain the darkness when you close your eyes, peeling back layers of the person you once knew to be you. Before sleep finally engulfs you, you pray for the guidance of whoever is listening.

Minho guides you towards the bed. Red and black satin sheets fitted across the bed and the pillows. Minho pushes you against the bed and huffs out a short laugh, smirking at you. You bite your lip out of nervousness, peering up at him.

“You’re so beautiful, my rose.” Minho’s hand is soft against the skin of your knee. Lightly, he drags his nails against your thigh, inching closer and closer to the material of your nightgown.

Before he does anything, he leans down to kiss you; eyes closing as your lips work in sync, souls melting together. The kiss deepens for just a moment until Minho pulls back, brown eyes staring into your own. He plants one more quick kiss against your lips before his hands begin working beneath your gown. He slides your dress up to your waist, admiring the softness of your belly and the smoothness of your skin. One kiss above your navel and another kiss below, is all he lets himself have before he gets too deep into it.

You make it easy for him, foregoing underwear to allow your lover easy access. Minho can only scoff, but he shuts himself up with another kiss to your mound. “Just for me, my dear?”

“Only you, love.” You smile at him, motioning for him to come closer. Minho, of course, follows suit. He would give you a billion and one kisses if he could.

When the kiss breaks, Minho drags you towards the edge of the bed. Spreading your legs apart, he drops to his knees beginning his worship of your cunt. Tongue flailing out, slurping up every drop of your wetness, soft lips drenched in your flavor—and there’s no other way Minho would rather have you than at his complete surrender. His hands grip your ass, trying to push you into his face. Lips covered in slick and spit, puckering around your clit, sucking it in; Minho’s head bobbing up and down slightly, moaning into your cunt.

“So fucking delicious,” Minho mumbles, continuing with his feast. Your hands fly to his hair, pulling with every lick and suck he gives you. Moaning freely, not caring if the entire world can hear you. In fact, maybe the entire world should hear you.

Minho eats you sloppily, savoring not only your taste, but the feeling of your cunt against his skin. The feeling of the softness of your pubic hair against his skin is like heaven to him. Sometimes, he’ll spend time rubbing this face against the hair before he dives into your cunt. Not to mention the feeling of your juices soaking into his skin, which he’d use as a natural moisturizer if he could. Minho’s obsessed with every inch of you; from your cunt to your skin, to the very blood that courses through your veins.

His fingers push into you as his tongue swirls against your cunt. His lips suck your clit into his mouth, tongue lightly beating against the tip of the bud. Minho pushes his saliva to the front of his mouth, soaking your clit in a mixture of his spit and your juices.

Your fingers pull against Minho’s hair, tugging harshly against his scalp but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He might even ask you to pull harder. You push Minho against your cunt, slowly grinding your hips against his face. Moans bouncing off the walls as you drip onto Minho’s tongue. Minho takes this opportunity to suck on your clit just a tad harder, triggering your pending orgasm. Eyes rolling to the back of your head allowing you to see colors as warmth rocks through your body. Limbs daring to curl together, Minho doesn’t allow you to move from the hold of his hands nor the warmth of his mouth.

Minho slowly kisses up your body. You can feel the remnants of his kisses even after he’s long gone from a spot because of the wetness on his lips. He kisses at your neck, then your cheek, and finally your lips. Deepening the kiss as he taps his cock against your cunt, you invite him in.

Three long orgasms later, you and Minho are snuggled in bed, snoring softly beside each other. Suddenly, you’re woken up by a loud bang. Looking to your side, you find Minho unbothered, still asleep, chest rising gently with each breath. There’s another bang, louder and possibly closer than last. You slide out of bed, looking back at Minho’s sleeping figure before making your way towards the door, hand reaching for the glass door knob.

There’s another loud crash as you twist the handle of the door. You step into the hall of darkness, wooden floor cold against the bottom of your feet. Closing the door behind you, you venture out into the darkness. The halls of the castle are quiet, unmoving; day in and day out they remain the same, even in the dead of night. It’s rather sorrowsome, actually. So full, yet so empty—the castle feels like it's dying.

Another loud bang. Followed by another and another. One after the other, four beats apart. The knocking appears to get louder with each step you take towards the staircase. You raise your foot to take that first step, there’s another bang once you firmly plant your foot against the stair. Quickly but carefully, you make your way up the staircase. In the near distance, towards the end of the hall presents a glimpse of golden light.

Letting your legs guide you, you make way towards the door at the end of the hall, almost floating. The knocking doesn’t stop, getting louder and louder the closer you get to the door; but when you try to halt, you’re guided to your destination by a sudden force; body stiffening, neck making a sharp turn as you peek into the room. The crackling warmth and light emitted from the fireplace sets a gorgeous, homey scene.

“Help.. Me..”

Your eyes shoot towards the ground until you find the fingertips of a man laying in a puddle of blood. But before your brain can process who the person is, you’re snatched away. Falling fast into a pit of darkness.

You awake in the dead of the night to a knocking at your door. It’s soft and subtle, but has been consistent enough to pull you from your sleep. One knock after the other, four beats between each knock.

Tossing the covers away, you step out of bed. Muscles tough and sore, there’s an unease as you rub the sleep from your eye, feeling as though you’re encumbered in your own head. You take another heavy step, the knocking still not ceasing. One step after another until you reach the handle of the door, and only then does the knocking stop, floorboards creaking as the sound of footsteps shuffles away.

A minute goes by until you decide to open the door. The hallway is dark, the only light is coming from the window across the hall. You look towards the moon—there she is, full in all of her glory, bringing the spring equinox along with her. You walk towards the window, looking down towards the ground and noting that the snow has completely melted. There’s a dark, shadowy figure in your peripheral that breaks your appreciation for nature. Turning in the direction, there’s nothing in the distance. You follow, passing by the kitchen and making your way to the stairs. The shadow dissolves into the darkness at the top of the stairs, beckoning you to chase after it.

Once you reach the top of the stairs, there’s a sliver of light peering from the far end of the hallway. The trek over isn’t that long, and once you’re within a few feet you slowly approach the door, tiptoeing your way over. Creeping up to the doorframe, you hold your breath as you peek into the crack of the room. There’s not much to see, just a steady fire and its continuous cracking. Until you hear a moan and your eyes dart to the location of the sound.

There, you spot Jisung sprawled out on the chaise, half of his limbs hanging off as Minho straddles over him. Attached to his neck, Minho wastes most of his meal, letting blood slip from his mouth and drip down Jisung’s neck. You gasp, fully taken aback by the action you are witnessing. The townspeople were right to warn you—the Count is a monster. Or maybe something worse.

After the accidental announcement of your arrival, Jisung locks eyes with you. Your gaze, however, is stolen by Minho once he turns around, peering up from his feeding position. He’s wide-eyed with blackness covering the entirety of his eyes, lips and chin stained red with blood. Once Minho realizes it’s you who interrupted his feed, he gives you a wide, bloody smile—showing off the two sets of fangs at the top row of his teeth, the outer fangs just slightly bigger than the inner fangs. For a moment, time seems to slow down; you watch as a small droplet of blood drips from one of Minho’s fangs, and before it fully releases, Minho swipes it with his tongue, licking over his fangs for extra blood.

Before you can turn back and run, Minho is already behind you in the blink of an eye.

“Unfortunately, my dear, running is useless,” The Count grabs you by the collar of your pajamas and forcefully drags you into the room. You fight him off but your hits do nothing to him. Letting go of you, Minho pushes you onto the ground. “Stay.”

Jisung stands up from his position laying across the chaise, dipping a rag into a bowl of water sitting on the side table. You watch Jisung with inquisitive eyes as he wrings out the rag, carefully cleaning up the marks and the blood stained to his neck. Minho, meanwhile, is facing the fireplace with his arms crossed and one finger pressed to his lips. Jisung finishes cleaning himself up, and begins moving around to avoid eye contact with you. In horror, you watch as Jisung takes a tarantula out of its cage and places it into his mouth, chewing as he turns to walk out of the room—leaving you alone and helpless in the clutches of Count Minho.

Minho tsks once, then once more. A hand on his hip as he shakes his head. He extends his arm, quickly swiping away all of the candles and books the rest atop the fireplace as a loud, angry cry escapes from his chest.

“I thought that maybe,” Minho begins. “Just maybe. I’d have an extra night or two before having to do this to you. You’re a curious one, aren’t you?”

Minho turns to you. An insincere smile on his face, fangs hidden away but some of Jisung’s blood still covers his face. You spring to your feet, not wanting to stay on the ground when it’s clear that Minho has the advantage. Backing away from him slowly, eyes searching for anything to use as a weapon, though Minho can tell your every move.

“Did you..did you do that to Seungmin?” You’re near tears. They don’t fall, only brimming along your tear ducts.

Minho’s jaw clenches at the mention of Seungmin. “You really do care about him, huh? Seungmin this and Seungmin that. I fear your admiration for your lover has made you blind. You have played right into the palm of my hand, little lamb.”

“You want to know where Seungmin is? He’s dead.” Minho laughs. A deep belly laugh. “Though, it wasn’t me who did it.”

“Years ago, I showed Sir Kim something that I thought he could handle, only to find out otherwise. I promised him knowledge, the freedom to view the extensive, valuable, book collection within my library, at any time he chooses; and most importantly, the opportunity to discover something otherworldly—new to him, although very old to me. Something that could provide him everything he’s ever wanted. At least, that’s what this power did for me. Seungmin wanted to become a new man, and I was the only one who could offer that opportunity.”

“Then, two months ago, Seungmin showed up at the door. Exclaiming that while he wasn’t ready in the past, this time he’s ready to surrender his soul. Turns out, it was a ploy to kill me. I should’ve known better, truthfully. Seungmin is smart, almost as cunning as I, and well, he very nearly gave me a run for my money. But let’s just say, how should I put this, I have someone who is willing to do anything I say. Including kill.”

You shake your head in disgust, backing up from Minho; but he pursues.“What are you?”

“I once referred to myself as a God. However, over the years, I realized that I am God. I have seen men with beast-like abilities and looks, men with the ability to rise from the dead, but the simple power of those imbeciles doesn’t even come close to mine. It’s something entirely different.”

“I mean, you read that book didn’t you? A dull-looking half-dead creature with fangs? You’re quite different from Seungmin, but you’re still special. You might not have understood the text, but perhaps, you used context clues?” Minho continues, “You might not have known it, but your fiancé was a part of a very dark world, angel. You see, he was actually the one that wrote the book. And he left you blind to it all, not knowing of his inevitable future. And now, yours.”

Minho winks and moves closer to you with each word, though you take steps back, not wanting to be too close to him. Eventually your back hits the wall and Minho almost pressed against you. His sharp nails come up to your neck, tracing over until he finds exactly what he was looking for, inhaling deeply.

“Are you going to kill me, too?”

“There,” He taps the tip of his finger against your neck, just above your collarbone. The sharpness of the nail presses into your skin, breaking the initial layer, not deep enough to cause bleeding. “If I put my mouth right here, I could drain all of you in less than six seconds. Kill you? Heavens no, I actually believe that you’re pretty valuable to me.”

Minho looks into your eyes, passing along discomfort in the form of a stare. Then he pouts at you, mockingly.

“No need to be scared. I mean, it’s not like you can ever leave me, at this point, so it’s best you put your fear aside.” Minho smirks once more. “From the night you’ve arrived, you’ve been drinking my blood. I’m already inside of you. I know every little thought in that pretty little mind of yours, I’m in all of your dreams. And guess what? You will never, ever be able to get rid of me.”

“Now tell me, has Seungmin ever touched you like this?” Minho asks, the tips of his fingers tracing against your neck, palm cupping around your throat, he stands firm behind you. There’s dense heat against Minho’s fingertips and a slight burning sensation from the sharpness of his nails; it’s such an intense feeling, unlike any you’ve experienced before. As electrifying as the feeling of his touch is, it’s also revolting, horrendous. There was a spark whenever Seungmin touched you, but Minho’s touch is different; it burns in all of the right ways.

“I could give you things Seungmin would have never even dreamt about,” Minho’s voice is soft, silky. The heat of his breath against your skin tickles, but ignites a particular burning of desire. Minho is something similar to the devil and still, despite it all, there’s a familiar heat that creeps up within you. “I could open doors for you that were previously closed. Anything you want, could be yours. All you have to do is accept all of me.”

The hand that had previously been resting against the softness of your belly, is held out for you to accept. You stare down at his hand, biting your lip at the temptation. Minho plants his lips against your neck to give you one small kiss after another.

For the sake of Seungmin, you want to turn away. If this had been just a few days ago, you would have likely fought in honor of Seungmin. The entire reason you’re even here, in the Count’s castle, is because of Seungmin. And still, in spite of all of that, as much as it makes you feel physically ill, stomach turning at the thought, every single fiber of your being craves Minho. You can feel the heat of your bodies meshed together every time you imagine what it’s like to have him between your legs. When he looks into your eyes, it’s familiar—like home.

Every alarm is firing off and still, you put your hand in Minho’s—accepting his offer. Minho’s hand interlocks with yours, and you can feel him smile in between his tiny butterfly kisses. His hand holds yours tightly, as if he doesn’t want to let you go. Plump lips dragging against your skin, until he stops momentarily—taking a deep breath. Minho lets out a sharp, rich groan; knees throbbing as he bucks into you. And it’s at that moment you can feel Minho’s cock pressed heavily against your ass. Minho holds you against him, hips moving against your ass slightly, as he breathes in your scent.

The moment is broken once you feel four razor sharp punctures in your neck. Minho’s low, guttural moans vibrate against your skin as his teeth penetrate layers of skin. The feeling is strange—it stings and burns, but also has a light cooling sensation.

With the more blood Minho takes, the more his eyes fade into black until the whites are no longer exposed. Minho is absolutely captivated by the taste of your blood. It’s absolutely bewitching. He can taste every memory, every inch of trauma and pain, all of your love and most importantly, Minho can taste a bit of your soul—completely unguarded and vulnerable; ready for him to take and do as he pleases with.

Minho continues draining you of your blood. It’s around this time that your vision becomes blurry, the room grows disorienting, tipping from side to side with each blink. You’re clutching Minho’s hand as tight as you possibly can be, jaw slacking and freely giving away soft moans. Even though he’s drinking from you, Minho never stops the movement of his hips. Hand clutching your own, pressing your arm against your stomach firmly. His other hand is tight on your hip, holding you in place. Somehow, your body feels both light and heavy, like you’re nailed to your spot but also elevated, floating in space. Your eyelids are getting heavier, a milky white film covering your eyes as Minho continues to take and take from you.

By the time you feel like your legs are going to give out, Minho gives up on drinking from you. “I can’t believe you’ve been hidden from me all this time, my little lamb.”

Minho whispers into your ear, voice equal parts soft and sweet. The way he can easily slip between calm and composed and dominant and overbearing is scary.

“Let’s make this official, what do you say, love?” It’s less of a statement and more of a demand. Minho bites into his wrist, pushing it towards your mouth. But you refuse, attempting to turn away, though Minho does not allow it. Forcing your mouth open with his other hand, fingers dipping into your mouth, watching with a smirk on his face as droplets of his blood drip into your mouth one by one.

There’s not really any significant taste to Minho’s blood. Indeed, his blood is thicker than water—but also very smooth going down. Minho spins you around, lips fast against yours. This kiss is full of iron and spit, completely messy, tongues fighting against each other. You, surprisingly to Minho, are the one who deepens the kiss further, pressing your body against his. Hands running all over his body, tugging against his clothes.

You can feel yourself changing rapidly. Inside of you is a particular burning passion that you haven’t felt in years. It’s amplified when Minho’s fingers trickle up and down your sides. When the kiss parts, you and Minho lock eyes. Your chest rises, breathing in deeply because the room has gotten a hell of a lot hotter—or is the oxygen leaving your lungs?

Minho takes the lead this time, pushing you atop of the sofa. He stands over you almost menacingly, clouds of lust like darkness clouding his eyes. He takes the chest of his shirt and tears it in half with two hands, as easily as it takes one to blink. He lets the shirt fall from his body, pulling his arms from the sleeves. Unbuttoning his pants just slightly before he kneels on the couch beside you. His lips on yours once again, though briefly. Minho takes the fabric of your clothing and tears it in two, just as he did his own shirt. You’re completely exposed to him, completely naked beneath his stare. You put your arms up to shield your indecency, but Minho doesn’t allow it. Taking your wrists in his hands and pinning you to the comfort of the sofa.

Holding your wrists with one hand, Minho holds your jaw in his other hand. “Wish you could see how heavenly you look right now.”

At this moment, Minho decides that you’re the closest he’ll ever get to heaven. So does he worship this embodiment of a higher place? Or does he further defile it? Should he ravish you? Perhaps he should take his claim over a body and soul that is now his forever. The worship may come a little later. He looks down at you, a frenzied little fledgling overtaken by uncontainable lust. A near mirroring reflection of sin itself. You pupils are completely blown and the whites of your eyes grow into a red color. He stands tall above you, like a God. Eyes of lust looking back at you, so deeply into the crevices of what’s left in your soul.

You claw up at Minho, wanting to feel him. Wanting to be comforted by the glory that is Minho. The Ultimate Being—your master.

“Imagine if Seungmin were to see you like this, intoxicated with such lust—and none of it towards him,” Minho kissed over the spot where he bit you, planting more kisses against your neck. “Would he be pathetic? A coward who cums in his pants at the sight of another man touching you?”

Minho’s lips move from your collarbone to your chest, displaying a range of kisses against your skin. “Or would he demean you for disgracing him in such a way? Would he call you a whore at the sight of you, turning his face in disgust?”

Minho continues talking in between kisses against your skin. Lips kissing down the valley of your breast as his left hand creeps up to fondle your left breast. You moan at his touch, the coolness of his skin against the heat of yours. Minho looks up at you. “My precious little lamb isn’t a whore, are you?”

You shake your head vigorously at Minho’s statement. He can only laugh at you. He doesn’t believe it and deep inside, you don’t believe yourself either.

“Your whole purpose of being here was to find your fiancé, and instead, you’re beneath me and dripping onto the chaise. That doesn’t sound like something someone who’s not a whore would do, does it, little lamb?”

You shake your head in denial. Reaching up to him, dragging the tips of your fingers down his chest. With each exhale, with each minute that goes by, it becomes harder and harder to fight your cravings. Thrusting your hips up, gyrating in the air, trying to entice Minho into touching you. Unable to sort the words in your head to form a coherent sentence.

“But you’re fine with being a whore aren’t you?” Minho nods, pouting just slightly. When you’re not nodding along with him, he grabs you by your hair, forcing you to nod along with him. “What a good little lamb. From here on out, you’ll only be a whore for me, ok?”

Minho releases your hair from his clutches. Licking his palm, he drags it down from your navel to your cunt, pausing a moment to bury his fingers within the hair on your mound, slightly tugging at it. He teases you for the moment; fingertips feathering lighting against the skin of your inner thighs. He brings his fingers back to your cunt, dragging down your slit, teasing into your wetness. Minho circles over your clit with two fingers, watching your face as you bite your lip. Two of his fingers slowly slip inside of you soon after, thick, already knuckle deep inside of you.

Minho’s free hand finds a new position, tightening around your neck. The roughness of his hands is missed when he slides his hand down your chest, cupping your breast. He leans down, sucking your nipple into his mouth, coating it with saliva, teeth slightly grazing against it. He continues scissoring his fingers into you, thumb pressing down flat against your clit. Minho moves his thumb in tender circles, still applying pressure. Swollen lips leave a mess of spit on your breast, dripping onto his hand.

He lifts his head from his original position, eyes covering every inch of you. Once his eyes land on your cunt, Minho kneels—a quick kiss planted at your clit before he attaches his mouth to it, sucking you in. Warm, wet mouth slurping and licking, voice vibrating against your cunt. You moan into your hand, but Minho snatches it away; a quick, stern look up at you. The more he hears your moans, the sluttier and messier that Minho gets; moving away slightly to spit against your cunt, watching as it drips down to his fingers. All before he’s back at it, slurping and moaning against your cunt.

“Fucking cum,” Minho talks into your cunt. He speaks his demand into you. The climax hits you hard, cum spraying all over Minho’s face, even drenching a bit of his hair. It takes Minho and yourself by surprise, and you’re almost ready to cover your face in your hands, but Minho flashes the most gorgeous smile to you. Face soaked, licking his lips to taste more of you.

If he wasn’t firm about his desire to devour and conquer you, he was now. Minho fully undresses himself, cock hard and heavy, leaking and aching to be buried inside of you. It’s like your minds come together. Just with a touch you know the things that Minho wants to do to you. Your desires are equal and because of it, you’re a step ahead of him. Your eyes land on him, completely sucking into the visual of his cock. Large but not too veiny, a shade or two darker than the rest of his skin and it’s absolutely glorious. He’s thick, the tip of his cock heavy and shining with precum. It’s hard to keep your appetite for lust contained, and for a moment, you wonder why you’re even holding back—you’ve seen just a glimpse of freedom, is it too much to indulge and savor the taste of what you’re becoming?

Your movements are faster than what the logical part of your brain can comprehend. One moment you’re spread open and the next, you’re straddling Minho, hand caressing his face. Minho looks at you with such an insatiable gaze. He hadn’t read it in the cards that you could possibly take control of the situation, and it enthralls him—what a wonder you are. You grind against his cock, sliding your slick cunt across his shaft. Pressing your hands to his chest for balance, adjusting the speed of your grinding until you’ve finally found the spot that sets off the fireworks within your brain. Unfortunately, it’s not enough for Minho, grabbing your hips and pressing you onto his cock, controlling your movements. Other than the added pressure, Minho guides your hips just a tad bit faster.

Sliding up, you reach behind to hold Minho’s cock into your hand. It has a bit of weight to it and is slick with your juices. You tap the head of his cock against your cunt a time or two, then slowly sink down, engulfing him into your cunt. The thickness of his cock gives you a fervent sensation, cunt fluttering to take more of him, inch by inch.

You throw your head back as you continue riding Minho. There's a brief, but slight sting of pain when you open your mouth to moan. When you look towards Minho, mouth agape, he looks back at you with such adoration and awe—the first time you felt his genuineness for something other than rage. Minho helps you continue to ride him, his hands on your hips to guide you up and down his cock. You bring your tongue up to lick your lips when you finally notice the feeling of the fangs protruding from your gums.

The feeling of exhilaration encompasses your whole being. You can’t help but let out a laugh at the current situation. You feel elated. You feel powerful. Pure and utter bliss slowly peeking out beneath the many layers of lust.

“Bite me, my dear, go ahead.” Minho reassures you, a hand soothingly rubbing against your thigh.

You indulge in the opportunity. Sinking completely down on Minho’s cock, crying out at the sensation of being filled by him. You press your nose against his neck, breathing in Minho’s scent before you sink your fangs into his skin. You can feel the shift in your eyes when you drink from him. His blood tastes immaculate like this. What divine nectar he carries within. It’s insanely sweet—not exactly in a tart or sugary way; he tastes similar to fresh fruit.

You continue to drink from him, tongue licking haphazardly, unwilling to let any of Minho’s blood go to waste.

From his blood to his cock, Minho is all around you. You feel so full of him, and you are in every sense of the word. His arms wrap around you, caging you in as you take your time feeding from him. He moves a hand between the two of your bodies, thumb pressed against your clit to rub in circles. You gentle rock against him, slowly increasing the speed of your hips once you realize you’re fairly latched onto him. Unwilling to free him from your hold, you would die like this if needed.

Your climax hits you and transforms you into such a state of pure ecstasy. Every nerve in your body is electrified, and the blood of Minho amplifies that. Minho has you under a spell: blood coursing through your veins, cock pinned deep, spilling his cum inside of you. He’s so cold to touch, but you’re both on fire. It’s way too much yet you’re still captivated by him. Sent into overdrive, your body gets heavier—it's hard to control and you continue to take and take from Minho. It’s no problem to him, though; hand on your back to soothe as your body becomes stiff atop of him.

You awake in Minho’s arms, not completely sure of where you exactly are. The second you open your eyes, you’re not nearly ready for how extraordinarily bright the lights in the room are. You groan in response, but Minho is alert to soothe you.

“Be still, my little flower.” Minho is whispering, purposefully; he knows first-hand how troubling it can be to be reawakened like this. But still, his voice rings around your head.

How strange. You can hear every little sound a lot clearer, a lot louder. The initially faint crackling of the fireplace now louder than before despite the distance. The heat of the fire reaches you as well, blazing, although it does not stick. The ticking of the clock is a doomful reminder of the passage of time. Then you look at Minho, and you can hear how hollow he is. There’s an absence within him, a huge, dark, cavernous hole. He is nothing more than a host for whatever this disease is that he has given you. A man without a soul.

And still. He holds the entire world in his hands.

“There’s so much I have to teach you,” Minho expresses this with great excitement. He presses a chalice of blood to your lips and just a whiff of the smell puts you in a daze; salivating and feigning to taste. “Now here, drink up.”

#🌑 — vivid dreams #🌑 — vividdream.skz #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #minho smut #stray kids smut #lee know smut #skz smut

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dcxdpdabbles · 1 year

Text

Passion for Fashion Part 3

Danny nervously twirls his thumbs as Dan paces before him, mumbling insults to the Waynes under his breath. They were supposed to go third in the walkway line, as it was supposed to be in alphabetical order, but just as the computation was going to begin, a disaster struck.

Tim Drake-Wayne had been kidnapped. In broad daylight, as the teenage CO-CEO was getting out of his limo, a group of men broke through the crowd, swinging guns around and demanding everyone to get on the ground and give them their valuables.

Of course, there were security who attempted to gain control of the situation, but it seemed that three of their newest hires were traitors and in on the heist. A shoot-out was ensured.

Drake-Wayne had been taken in the chaos, and Bruce Wayne had passed out from worry. He and the rest of his kids were on their way to a hospital- a secret location to deter further kidnappings of the remaining Waynes- and the first runway of the competition was canceled.

Danny hadn't seen anything from the model changing room, but Dan had forgotten his make-up bag in the front entry and had gone back for it while Danny changed. He had been front and center when the whole thing went down.

"Who just lets themselves get taken like that!?" Dan huffs, practically spitting fire. According to the ghost, Tim Drake-Wayne's actions were an act, and the teenager had been able to get away from his kidnappers but didn't.

Dan found his nonaction insulting since it paused his fashion show.

"Um, look around you? Situation awareness." Danny tells him, gesturing to the cage they had been shoved into. While the people had been preoccupied with Tim Drake-Wayne's kidnapping, a second group of men had gone in through the backdoor and taken all the models.

Danny had thought it was the staff moving them until he noticed a few people crying as they were placed into vans. In his defense, most people aren't used to seeing someone armed like he is, so the gun-waving hadn't tipped him off.

Dan had joined him later when he followed the coordinator- another traitor- to the vans, and his counterpart had only gotten upset when they took his make-up bag.

"Please, this is just metal." Dan rolls his eyes, bending the bars and straightening them out again to prove his point. Danny doesn't mention the electric buzz the bars release, as neither is really affected by the shock. It's more of an annoying light show. "Sides, it's not like we're human. Not like them."

He tilts his chin to where other models sob in their cages below. They are all waiting for their new owners to pick them up. At least, that's what Danny was able to gather from the men's taunts. They were taken by human traffickers, who had buyers look at the competition lineup and pick which model they wanted before the actual kidnapping.

Danny and Dan were in such high demand they would be sold at an auction that would take place while the rest of their pals kept the Bats busy. Danny had no idea who the Bats were or why they would save them instead of the police.

"Tell the whole world why don't you?" Danny hisses, twirling his thumbs more " If they found out what we are we could be turned over to this world version of the Guys In White."

"Oh no, I'm shaking in my human boots." Dan rolls his eyes. He resumes his pacing. "If the Waynes had taken this seriously, we could have been seeing the results of the judge's panel already."

"Dan, this is a little more important than your fashion Obsession."

"Excuse you, my Obsession is a medical condition," Dan huffs, sliding down the cage bars, and for a brief second, his hair flickered to white before it settled back into black. A flash of pain crosses his face. "My core is killing me."

Danny winces. "Right, sorry, that was insensitive. How about I steal you some paper and pens so you can design a ball gown?"

"I like that."

Danny turns to the bars, bending them open and closing them behind him. He carefully makes his way across the giant shipping crates, to an office at the top right corner.

They are at the docks, hidden somewhere in a warehouse among many crates that will be shipped out, and Danny is honestly a little offended they have yet to be found. Sure, the kidnappers had driven through the sewers on a strangely built road that led them here, but surely someone would have noticed the apparent fact the van disappeared at a fake dead alley?

Weren't there cameras in almost every corner of the city? Dan had warned Danny about them while doing his Obsession-driven research, and both agreed not to Go Ghost while in public due to them.

Now, they could escape, but Danny wasn't kidding about the Guys in White or whatever their equivalent was here. He would rather know what level of competence they have before he makes any rash moves.

Danny also wants to see his fellow models' buyers, and he would like to have a word with them. His ghost Obsession may not be protection- much to the shock of many- but Danny has always had a moral compass that pointed to protecting others around him.

Dan knew and respected this about him, so his counterpart was willing to sit and wait for the buyers. He's just a little angsty since it disrupted his obsession.

Danny grimly peeks into the office window when he sees the coordinator talking on a phone. There doesn't seem to be anyone else around, so he carefully opens the door and creeps up behind the man.

"-If you ever want to see your son again," The man is saying, smirking. Danny can't see it due to the man facing away from him, but he can hear it in his voice.

On the desk is a laptop that repeats what he said only, the sound sounds robotic and unrecognizable. Is that a voice changer? "I suggest you ask Batman to find your boy before it's too late."

Batman? The man they were supposed to help save his humanity?

Danny knows it's a risk, but this is too much of a chance to pass up. He carefully picks up the office chair and brings it down hard on the disgusting man's head. The coordination lets out a chocked grunt of pain, but he's out like a light when he hits the ground. His phone flies across the floor, and a voice is heard speaking urgently.

Danny ties the man to the bolted-down desk using zip ties- the same ones they had used on him and the rest earlier that day, before picking up the phone.

"Hello? Is this Batman?" Danny asks, jumping slightly when the laptop repeats him in a creepy robotic voice. "Wait hold on, I think I can get rid of this voice thingy."

"...what?" A man asks over the phone, but Danny pays him no mind as he tries to click some boxes.

"Hello, testing one two three," Danny says, wincing when the voice changer makes him sound high and unnaturally squeaky. He sounds like he's trying to audition for Alvin and the Chipmunks. "Hello? Hello? Wait, I think I got it."

"Who are you? Where is Tim?" The man asks, and Danny almost rolls his eyes. He hates it when someone interrupts him while he's working with tech.

"Wait-there it is! Can you hear me alright? Do I sound normal?"

"....I can hear you."

"Awesome! Are you Batman, and if so, have you considered the importance of mental health activities? Like hugging your kids once a day? That really boosts your serotonin and dopamine levels." Danny asks, attempting to channel Jazz as much as he can. There is muffled sound across the phone line, like someone is attempting to smother a laugh.

"No, this is Bruce Wayne." Mr. Wayne says after a moment pause, "You have my son?"

"Oh," Danny tries not to sound as disappointed as he feels, but he may have failed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne I don't think your son is here. I think they were using him to distract you and the police of the missing models."

There is a strange lake of sound on the other line before Mr. Wayne responds. "Can you tell me who I am speaking to?"

"Danny Fenton. I was one of the models that was taken." Danny says, then he realizes the cops must be listening in because that always happens in movies; he lowers his voice and tries to sound in shock. "I think we're in a warehouse? I'm not sure, but I was in a cage when I woke up. They said they're going to sell us. I escaped, but there were guards everywhere, so I tried hiding in the office and heard the man you were speaking to come in. I hit him with a chair."

"Mr.Fenton," A new man says suddenly, "I know this is a terrifying situation, and I-"

"Are you Batman?"

"....No, son, I'm Commissioner Gordon"

"Oh."

"Do you want to speak to Batman?"

"Yes."

"Can I ask why?"

"I need to tell him to hug his kids."

Danny waits a few seconds for a response, but he hears nothing, not even the wind. They must have muted themselves. He leans on the desk, mindful to give the kidnapper a solid kick to make sure he's still out, and glancing over to the window to make sure there aren't any guards coming his way.

"Mr. Fenton, did they give you anything strange?" Commissioner Gordon asks

Danny thinks for a moment before humming. "They gave all of us something in a needle. I don't know what it was, but it felt funny. My brother has been acting weird since he got it."

"Okay, you're doing good. " Commissioner Gordon sounds like he is frowning but the words cause something in Danny's core to pur."Okay, son, everything is going to be alright. I need you to do something for me. Every Gotham warehouse has a serial number; you can find it in the main office on the power box. Do you see the box?"

Danny glances around until he sees the small little green box. He hurries over to it, throwing the door open. "I found it."

"Good. Can you read me the number?"

Danny reads them off as quickly as he can. Once all ten digits are within the police's hands he asks again. "Do you know if Batman partakes in his kid's interests?"

"I can ask him for you."

"Would you? That would be great. It's important to let people know you care about them by showing an interest in what they are passionate about. My brother Dan really likes making clothes, and even though I don't think I can model, I do it for him, you know?"

"You're a good brother."

"Thank you.....I'm tired Mr. Gordon." Danny says suddenly eyelids becoming heavy. He slides down the wall a lot like Dan did before.

"I'm sorry to hear that but I need you to keep talking to me, Mr. Fenton."

"Batman should tell his kids he loves them. His love language may be an act of service, but Nightwings' is words of affirmation. Nightwing needs to be told he's loved."

"Mr. Fenton! Stay awake for me! Mr.Fenton!" Danny hears someone yelling, but his core is purring even more now, and the sound is luring him to sleep. Suddenly he thinks of his counterpart in the cage waiting for his paper and pen.

"I have to go. I promised Dan I would get him some stuff so he could design some clothes. Bye-Bye."

"No! Don't hang up-!"

Danny drops the cell phone after pressing the end call button and ignores it when it rings again. He hurries over to the desk, looking for paper, but finds the table lacking. Thankfully, an open suitcase has sheets that he borrowed and a few pens.

He takes them all and runs back over the crates to where Dan is. Once he arrives, he notices many models are no longer distressed. All of them are smiling with a dazed look, and a few are even giggling. He waves at a few as he hurries back to his cage.

Dan is there, muttering under his breath and twisting his fingers in the air as if he were drawing in the sky. Danny bends the bars and holds up his prize. "I got the stuff!"

"Thank the ancients! I was never going to finish Mr. Hot scales suit without it!" Dan cheers, turning one of the sheets over to a clean side. He throws his whole body on the ground, using the smooth surface to start his ball gown.

Danny watches him for a moment before his purring core is too much. Dan reaches out to grip his leg, enclosing it in his warm palm and that's all Danny needs before he's fast asleep.

Dan continues to draw for a few more minutes before he, too, is overcome with sleep. Neither notices Red Hood or Robin bursting into the warehouse, guns and swords blazing, just as the buyers arrive. They or any of the models are unaware of the smackdown that happens until everyone involved with the scheme is behind bars.

Robin finds their cage, stepping through the bent bars and pausing at the sheets of paper scattered across the slumbering teenagers. He flips one incredibly designed ballgown only to have his eyes widen at what's written down.

"Robin to Batman," he says, staring at the paper and pressing his communicator. "I have a complete list of everyone who was buying today and past buyers. We can dismantle an entire ring with this."

"Good work, Robin."

"It wasn't I who found it. It was the Fentons."

".....Are they hurt?"

"Drugged but otherwise unharmed."

"Good."

There is a pause before Nightwing speaks up "Tell me you love me B."

"No"

Danny Fenton's eyes briefly open to stare into a surprised Robin's eyes. "Tell him Batman his humanity is at risk. Says the Ghost King."

"They gave him the good shit," Spolior laughs, having heard Fenton through the coms.

Elsewhere, Tim Drake-Wayne stares at Killer Croc aka Waylon Jones who is replaying the video of Dan Fenton catcalling Waylon from his cage right after the fashion designer was dosed with high levels of morphine.

"Hey Papi, why don't you come up here and let me dress you up in the proper wrapping for a walking gift like you?"

"Hey...hey are you from the EverBurning tribe? Cause those are the hotest legs and tail I have ever seen!"

"Mr.Hot Scales, I promise Danny is the only ally of FarFrozen. I'm team EverBurning all the way! Kiss me!"

"What the actual fuck?" Tim asks, and Waylon nods.

"I have no idea, kid. The first time any of my merchandise flirts with me."

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Passion for Fashion #Part 3 #tw: human trafficking #tw: drugs #Danny and Dan were somewhat able to fight off the drug #Dan was in his right mind when he was catcalling #Look Dan is more ghost then human and thus finds nonhumans hot #Danny's obsession was hinted. Can you spot it?#The twins got in situation #Bruce is worried about them

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bluecollarmcandtf · 2 months

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Used Meat-Suit For sale!

Sup Internet! Like the title says, I'm selling this old thing, so hmu if you're interested in him.

I've been wearing this guy for years now, so I don't really remember where I got him. I think he was a lineman on some football team; and with his 6'-7", 280lb body, he was probably really good at it! He might've been called Paul or Pete maybe, but I've just been wearing him to do yard work around my house, so I haven't used his name. My neighbors all assume he's my personal landscaper or something. I usually pull some XL khaki coveralls over him when I take him outside, but I figured any buyer's gonna want to see as much of him as this website allows.

Also, please ignore his boner! I may have had a final jerk in that thing before hopping out. I just wanted one more, for old time's sake! If you've ever had a meat-suit before, then you know it sort of pauses where you leave it. His limbs don't stiffen or anything; he's like a limp ragdoll when no one's inside, but all the background changes that occur over time like hair growth, muscle loss, and yes-boner deflation just stay the same as you left it.

I'm looking to get around $500 for him, but I'm open to haggle if you want. There's nothing wrong with him! I take great care of all my suits, but he is still a little dirty from the last time I used him to mow the lawn.

That's it! Can't think of much else to say that'll convince you to buy him. I mean he's a great thing to throw on when you have some heavy lifting to do! Or maybe you wanna get into football with him! I'm sure there's still some memory of the game in those muscles. You might have to hit the gym first; he's strong, but I definitely did not keep up whatever insane workouts he was doing before I took over. He was a fucking muscle-ox back then!

Reach out if you're interested! I'm not even going to try to ship him though. He's way too heavy. You'll have to stop by and pick him up. Shouldn't be hard though because you can just wear him out the door!

Disclaimer: If you haven't owned a genuine human bodysuit before, it is a responsibility! You have to put them on every so often to shower, shave, brush their teeth, and everything. These things are real bodies that still sweat, grow, and get fat if you just leave them lying around. Take care of your shit!

#body theft #meatsuit #meat puppets #male possession #gay ai art

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candycandy00 · 2 months

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My Sweet Pet - A Suo x Reader x Sakura Fanfic Part 1

You’re a hybrid cat girl in a pet shop, and Sakura Haruka is a fellow hybrid in the cage beside you. After becoming friends, he promises to protect you. A week later, you’re both purchased by Suo Hayato.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Smut. 18+. Fem reader. Hybrid AU. Suo and Sakura are bisexual. Hand jobs. Fingering. Voyeurism. All characters aged up! Humiliation. Dividers by @anitalenia and @benkeibear!

You were only at the hybrid pet shop for three days before you met Sakura Haruka. You were scared and alone, the only cat hybrid there, so you were excited to see him. His ears were each a different color, matching his unusual hair, and they twitched cutely as he looked around the store.

When he was pushed into the cage next to yours, you greeted him somewhat shyly, just happy to see another cat. He’d turned red and looked away from you, but when you asked his name, he muttered it quietly. He never started conversations with you, but he almost always answered when you asked him something directly. It took you a few days to realize he wasn’t being rude, he just hadn’t been properly socialized.

His unique coloring made him stand out, and lots of potential buyers were interested in him, but his almost feral behavior turned them all away. He didn’t like being touched, and hated being talked to like a pet. He would hiss and scratch at anyone who tried to pat his head.

In your case, your shyness made most buyers look elsewhere. Cat hybrids were expected to be forward and even a bit aggressive, but you were as shy as a bunny. Haruka was the only one you ever spoke to.

One day, while Haruka was out of his cage, being examined by a buyer, he snapped over something they said and clawed at them. The owner used his remote to trigger the shock collar around Haruka’s neck, just like the one you wear. Haruka kept getting back up despite the obvious pain he was in, but eventually he collapsed onto the hard floor.

Later that evening, you noticed a bad scrape on his wrist, probably from when he hit the floor. With your cages side by side, only a row of bars separated you. Thinking only of helping him, you ripped a piece of your dress off from the bottom and reached through the bars, gently taking hold of his injured wrist.

He froze, staring at you, his face red, his hair seeming to stand up on end. But he didn’t pull away as you wrapped the strip of fabric around his wrist. “I don’t know if this will help,” you told him, “but I can’t stand doing nothing when you’re hurt.”

The blush deepened on his cheeks as he mumbled a quick “thank you”.

From that day on, he seemed a little more friendly with you, a little more willing to talk to you. Through the bars of your cages, you became friends.

One night after closing time, you confessed to Haruka that you’re scared of being purchased, of being someone’s pet. “I know these little cages are miserable,” you told him, “but at least we’re here together.”

He turned red again, and in a quiet voice said, “Don’t be scared. I promise I’ll protect you.”

And with those words, you fell in love.

Now, one week later, the door to the shop opens and a strange man walks in. He’s the most beautiful human you’ve ever laid eyes on. He wears an eyepatch over one eye, and long earrings dangling elegantly from each ear. He’s dressed handsomely, and his movements are graceful and smooth as he sweeps around the store, looking into the various cages.

When he stops in front of your cage and peers in, you feel your face heating up and your heart racing. There’s something magnetic about him, demanding your attention. He stares at you with an enigmatic smile before moving on to look at Haruka.

Looking into the cage beside you, it’s a bit of a shock to see that even Haruka seems drawn by the man’s striking beauty. Instead of his usual glares and hisses, he’s simply staring back at the man, his face growing pink.

The shop owner approaches to speak to the man, who gestures toward your cage and says, “I’d like to take a closer look at her, if that’s alright.”

Your heart nearly stops. This unbelievably beautiful man wants to look at you?

The owner opens your cage and pulls you out, leaving you standing in the middle of the store awkwardly. You’re so nervous under this buyer’s piercing gaze that you’re trembling.

“A shy cat?” The buyer asks. “How unusual.”

The owner seems to notice the buyer’s interest. “Yes, she’s very unusual! Shy as a bunny, docile as a sheep!”

You shudder as the owner steps closer to you and begins pulling up your simple white dress. “You can check out the details if you want,” he says.

Your terrified eyes shift to Haruka. You don’t want him to look, but at the same time, you’re seeking comfort in his face. He’s gripping the bars of his cage so tightly, you don’t know how they haven’t broken, his face twisted in anger as he glares at the owner.

The buyer suddenly interrupts. “That won’t be necessary.”

The owner drops your dress, and you exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I’ll take her,” the beautiful man says, and you look up at him in shock. He wants you?! Your heart begins pounding rapidly. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t some part of you that’s excited to be chosen by a man like him, but you love Haruka, and you’re still frightened by the idea of having an owner, no matter how gorgeous he is.

You look at Haruka again, and he looks horrified. As tears begin to well up in your eyes, you hear him scream out in frustration, and then two of the bars snap loose from the cage. Haruka jumps out, lunging for the buyer, who doesn’t seem the least bit worried as he smoothly dodges the feral cat.

The owner hurries to pull the remote from his pocket to trigger the shock collar, turning it to full blast to make Haruka go down fast.

Haruka is on the floor, his body jerking as the collar shoots him with electricity. He’s glaring at the owner and the buyer. “Don’t… take her!” he forces out.

You start toward him, tears dripping down your face. “Stop hurting him!” you cry at the owner.

The buyer, completely unfazed, walks over to Haruka and looks down at him. “Is this your friend?” he asks, his one visible eye sliding over to you.

You nod, too upset to speak. Haruka is growling as he looks up at the man.

The owner is sweating, holding the remote in his shaky hand. “I apologize, sir! This one has been too wild since he got here! I’ll make sure to discipline him later!”

The buyer smiles. “Actually, I think I’ll take both of them!”

You and Haruka both freeze and stare at him, then glance at each other.

“You just want to protect your friend, right?” the buyer asks Haruka. “If I buy you too, you can come with her. That should fix everything.”

Haruka has already stopped struggling, but his body was still clearly tense until just now. “Just… don’t hurt her,” Haruka says.

The buyer squats down close to Haruka and says, “I can’t promise that, but at least you’ll be there to watch over her, right?”

Haruka seems to deflate, all fight leaving his body. “Fine. Take us both.”

“Excellent!” the buyer says cheerfully as he stands up. “I’m Suo Hayato. I’ll be your owner starting today! Let’s all get along.”

The next hour passes in a blur. Paperwork is signed, both you and Haruka are restrained even though Suo insists there’s no need, and the two of you are pushed into the back of a fancy black vehicle to be driven to your new home.

Suo’s house is huge, extravagant, the kind of place you never imagined you would even walk inside. It looks like a palace to your eyes as he leads you inside.

After stepping into a lovely, fully furnished bedroom, he says, “This one is yours. I believe everything you could possibly need is already here, but let me know if there’s anything I’ve forgotten. Take a bath, put on fresh clothes, and come to my room within the hour. I’ll have one of the servants lead the way for you.”

Once he’s gone, you begin looking around the lavish bedroom. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen in your life. Everything is so… beautiful. You look in the closet to find a collection of pretty dresses, all of them in the same style but with different patterns. They seem just slightly short for you, with thin straps at the top. You select one covered with pale pink flowers on white.

You notice with some alarm that there’s no underwear of any kind. Is this one of the things Suo forgot? You make a mental note to ask for some as you climb into the large ceramic tub to take your bath.

When finished, you dry yourself and your hair with a towel, and pull on the lovely dress. As you thought, it’s a little too short for your comfort, barely coming below your hips. With no underwear on, you feel especially uncomfortable. Being very careful to walk slowly, to avoid your dress coming up, you go to the bedroom door to tell the waiting servant that you’re ready.

They lead you down an ornate hallway and to a glossy wooden door. They knock twice, then open it and motion for you to step inside. You barely clear the door before they close it behind you, sending you in alone.

You quickly spot your new owner sitting in a high backed leather chair. He stands when you approach, and looks you up and down. “The dress looks great on you. Very pretty.”

You can’t help blushing at the compliment. An extraordinarily beautiful person called you pretty!

Then he look over to the side and says, “Sakura, doesn’t she look pretty?”

You turn to look, and see that Haruka is kneeling on the floor, his hands still restrained behind his back. He’s glaring at Suo.

“Haruka!” you exclaim, then look to Suo. “Why is he still restrained?”

Suo gives you a friendly smile. “He exhibited some violent tendencies at the shop. This is just a precaution until I’m sure he can be trusted not to hurt anyone. Don’t worry, he hasn’t been harmed, and he’ll get his own private room just like yours.”

You look at Haruka with a worried expression, but he doesn’t seem hurt, or even angry. He averts his eyes from yours, his cheeks growing pink as he mutters, “I’m fine.”

Suo stands behind you, subtly turning you so that you’re facing Haruka, who is only a few feet away. The room is well lit, a little brighter than you expected, and a little cooler.

Your owner runs one hand down your arm, the touch so soft it leaves goosebumps. “Sakura, you didn’t answer me,” Suo says. “Don’t you think she’s pretty?”

You flush with heat where Suo’s hands touch you, and you look away from Haruka. You’re in love with him, but you don’t know what he thinks of you.

“Yeah,” he says, “she’s pretty.”

You look back at him to find his face red, his eyes looking to the side.

Suo’s hand moves back up your arm, over your shoulder, ghosting over the shock collar around your neck. “I bet you’ve never been shocked before,” he says.

You shake your head, and Sakura’s ears and eyes seem to perk up in alarm.

Suo smiles. “Of course not. A sweet, innocent little cat like you is well behaved. Being shocked hurts very bad, doesn’t it Sakura?”

Haruka slowly nods, his eyes focused on Suo.

“Don’t worry,” Suo says. “As long as everyone behaves, you’ll never experience that kind of pain.”

Haruka frowns, staring daggers at your new owner.

Suo’s hands move down to the hem of your dress, and start to draw it upward. You quickly try to hold it down. “Wait! Y-you didn’t leave me any underwear in my room.”

He leans his face in close to your ear. You can’t see him behind you, but you can feel his body heat against your trembling back. “I know. You won’t be needing any here,” he says.

You feel panic rising within you. “But..!”

“It’s okay,” he says soothingly, “It’s just the three of us here. Sakura and I will take good care of you. We just want to see how pretty you are. You’ll show us, right?”

Your shaky hands let go of the dress, and he slowly pulls it up, revealing your body in the brightly lit room, pulling it over your head and tossing it onto the floor. You slam your eyes shut, far too embarrassed to see Haruka’s face. You feel Suo move from behind you, then hear his voice say, “Open your eyes, kitten.”

You shake your head. “I can’t!”

His hands are on your face. “Open your eyes for me. Don’t be embarrassed. We both think you’re beautiful.”

You crack your eyes open and find Suo’s heavenly face close to yours. You blush, your tail swishing nervously behind you. He backs up a few steps to stand next to Haruka, who is pointedly looking away from you.

Suo squats down and says something to Haruka that you can’t hear. Haruka’s eyes widen, his gaze snaps sharply to Suo, then a growl emanates from his mouth. Suo simply smiles at him.

A few seconds pass, then Haruka finally looks at you. His face is redder than ever, his mouth slightly open as his bi-colored eyes move up your body. Ahh, it’s so embarrassing! To have two handsome men, fully clothed, staring at your exposed body… it’s almost overwhelming. But you can’t deny the strange thrill that’s shooting through you. Haruka is looking at you so intently!

Suo steps over to the high backed chair and pulls it to you, positioning it so that it’s facing Haruka. Then Suo sits down and pats his lap. “Sit,” he tells you.

He’s smiling pleasantly, his voice calm, but there’s an underlying tinge of authority that makes you hurry to comply.

You ease yourself down on his thighs, and his hands move to your waist to slide you back against him. Your heart pounds furiously as his fingers graze over your thighs.

“Let’s show Sakura this pretty pussy, okay?”

You shudder in his lap, turning your head to look at his face, then back at Haruka’s. “It’s… too embarrassing…”

Suo’s voice at your ear is maddeningly smooth. “I told you, there’s nothing to be embarrassed for. You’re beautiful.”

With his hands, he pulls your legs apart, hooking each one over his own knees to keep them spread. You whimper, but Suo holds you firmly in place. “You have to keep your legs open so Sakura can see.”

One of his hands lightly rubs your inner thigh as his lips move close to your ear again. In a sultry whisper only you can hear, he says, “You love Sakura, don’t you?”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“It’s obvious to me,” he says, his hand moving closer and closer to your pussy. “But I don’t think Sakura realizes it yet. So let’s tell him.”

You turn to look at Suo, tears rapidly filling your eyes. “No, please! Don’t tell him!” you whisper back frantically.

Suo laughs. “Oh, I’m not going to tell him. You are. Confess your love, right here, right now.”

Now?! While you’re naked, spread open in another man’s lap?! It’s unthinkable. You look at Haruka, who is staring at you with an unreadable expression. It looks like he’s breathing fast.

“Please, I can’t do it like this,” you say.

Suo’s fingers finally reach your silky folds, and you feel him spread them apart, exposing you even more. “This is the best way to do it,” he whispers. “Any man would love to have a beautiful woman tell him she loves him while her pretty, wet pussy is on display for him.”

You gasp as one of his fingers brushes over your clit, the sudden pleasure sending a shockwave through your body.

“Sakura, she has something to tell you,” Suo says, looking at the other cat who is still on his knees on the floor, his arms behind his back.

You lock eyes with him. “Haruka… I… I’m in love with you!”

You didn’t think it was possible for his face to get redder, but it just did. His hair seems to be standing up again, his ears twitching wildly. But he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t answer your confession of love.

Suo’s fingers are playing with you, his touch gentle but invasive. One finger slips inside you, making you quiver, while his thumb strokes your clit. You let out a humiliating moan, wishing Haruka wasn’t seeing this. Finally you close your eyes, leaning your head back against Suo’s warmth, having no more will to fight the pleasure rippling through you.

You’re becoming wetter and wetter, Suo’s probing fingers making lewd sounds that seem to echo in the room, your own moans nearly overtaking them. You keep your eyes firmly closed. You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to look at Haruka after this.

The pleasure hits its peak, you cry out loudly as clear fluid squirts out around Suo’s fingers, absolutely drenching them. He holds you through your orgasm, his fingers still stroking and pumping, until you go quiet and still in his lap. Then he withdraws his hand and says, “You did well. Now go back to your room and get some rest.”

You don’t waste any time. You’re far too embarrassed to stay any longer than necessary. Without even glancing at Haruka, you pull your dress back on and hurry out the door.

*******************************

Sakura glares at his new owner, wanting nothing more than to break free and claw the man’s stupid pretty face off.

The owner, Suo stands up from his chair and walks over to Sakura. “Still mad at me?” he asks, that irritatingly calm smile on his face.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt her if I watched,” Sakura practically growls out.

“Did she seem to be in any pain? I didn’t hurt her. You did.”

“Me?!”

Suo’s phony smile is replaced by a phony frown. “The poor girl bared her heart to you, among other things, and you ignored her. I thought you loved her too.”

Sakura did love her. Of course he did. But he hadn’t been able to say that in the moment. It was too awkward, too controlled by the manipulative bastard standing over him.

Suo sighs and holds out his hand. It’s still dripping. “Looks like she made a mess on my hand. Hmm, I wonder how she tastes…”

As Suo slowly lifts his hand, Sakura lunges forward, wrapping his lips around three of the other man’s glistening fingers, hungrily sucking her juices off them. He’s never tasted anything so sweet.

Suo makes no attempt to stop him, instead he looks quite pleased. He squats down to be at eye level with Sakura, his one eye gleaming as he watches his pet suck his fingers. With his free hand, Suo slips his hand down the front of Sakura’s pants, feeling the raging erection.

“Have you had this the whole time? I didn’t realize it would turn you on so much to watch another man pleasure her.”

Sakura wants to tell him to shut up, but he can’t bring himself to let those deliciously coated fingers slip out of his mouth. He feels Suo’s warm hand softly stroking his cock, and to his horror, he likes the sensation. His body is responding, his cock twitching in the other man’s grasp, quick little moans creeping out around Suo’s fingers. Just when he thinks he’s on the edge of cumming, Suo suddenly withdraws both hands.

Sakura is left panting, spit and other fluids on his lips and chin, his cock throbbing in his pants. With his arms restrained, he can’t even jack off. He growls in frustration.

Suo laughs and tosses a pillow on the floor next to him. “Looks like you’ll have to find another way to get off.”

Sakura gives a look that could almost kill, then crawls over and begins grinding desperately against the pillow, trying to create any friction at all. It’s humiliating, but he has no choice at this point.

“Getting close?” Suo asks, standing over him. “Try remembering how she looked in my lap, all spread out for you. How she mewled and cried when she came. How pretty her face was when she told you she’s in love with you…”

“Ah… fuck!” Sakura yells, his cum shooting out across the pillow and the floor, staining both. As he lays panting, collapsed onto his side, Suo heads toward the door.

“Try to get some sleep. I might be so kind as to let you touch her tomorrow.”

The he turns off the light and shuts the door, leaving Sakura alone in the darkness.

#suo x reader x sakura #suo x reader #sakura x reader #suo hayato x reader #suo hayato #sakura haruka x reader #sakura haruka #wind breaker smut #wind breaker x reader #x reader

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ewreckedshin · 4 months

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Aventurine x reader ~ cat cakes [caked up cat]

Description: Ruan Mei has been working on a special creation, one that can help her create a sentient life through... indirect means. She gifts one of these products to Aventurine, a wealthy buyer who purchased 3 of her normal cat cakes. Aka I've made yet another plot to insert cat-girl sex

WC: ~2k

Warnings: NSFW, mostly smut, honestly long overdue, tempted to buy the pajamas in that art just so I can pretend Aventurine is gonna spawn in my room at some point then I can give him the clothes to wear, unedited

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

Head swirling after his encounter with Sparkle, Aventurine was not in the mood to answer the knock at his door

Nevertheless, he lazily swings open the door, masking his annoyance with a forged smile

It was a young delivery guy, who was so intimidated talking to Aventurine of the ten Stonehearts that he immediately set down the boxes and ran off after muttering a rushed introduction

Ruan Mei, the seller he bought from, had left him a note on one of the boxes

Dear Aventurine,

I am pleased that you have taken an interest in my experiments. For your multiple purchases, I have included an extra product in one of the boxes. This one is quite “special” as it is able to maintain a human form for certain activities. It is my gift to you, but you are also doing a service for me by testing out my newest experiment.

With gratitude,

Ruan Mei

Shutting his door, he muses over the contents of the letter

He first unboxes the regular cat cakes, smiling at the irony in front of him

“Black cats, huh? Are you little ones going to balance out my great fortune?”

He then opens the special package…

To find nothing but you, another black cat nestled within a pastry case, blinking your eyes cutely at him

“Don’t see what’s so different about this special product”

He gently lifts you out of the box, and you discover that his slim pretty fingers are calloused despite their manicured appearance

“Can you speak?”

You sink your fluffy body into his hands, enjoying the feeling of dangling from a pretty boy’s arms.

“...Meooow.”

He shook his head, blond hair falling into his pretty eyes as he chuckled at his own question. “Of course you can’t, what a silly question.”

He fondly pets your head and scratches behind your ears, causing you to trill out musical purrs at the sensation

Aventurine collapses on his luxurious bed and scoops you onto his chest

You could hear a soft vibration in his chest as he spoke, making your small body buzz from the movement

“Sometimes it seems like the more luck I bring to myself, the worse the situation around me is. Almost as though there’s a limited amount of luck in this world and I’m taking it all for myself”

Curiously, you knead your paws into the silky material of his black pajamas

He simply stares at you with an empty smile on his face, a touch of something vulnerable underneath his practiced expression.

He closes his eyes and presses his forehead to your smaller furry one. Up close, you could see dark circles under his eyes. He was beautiful, despite his face being the picture of fatigue

“To be special…”

He trails off at the end of his sentence and loosens his embrace on your body

Soon the room was entirely silent save for the quiet breaths that escaped his parted lips

You stretch out your limbs and nimbly pull yourself out of your cake shell, stopping to stare at his closed eyelids. Cattish eyes followed the movement of his breaths and a subtle flutter of his lashes revealed something wet sliding down his cheeks

You wanted to call out to him, to just do something to console the sleeping man

Simultaneously, a familiar burning sensation spread within you, one that occurred whenever you were within proximity of a human for long enough

Almost as though it was nature’s alarm, reminding you of the reason for your creation

You nimbly pull yourself out of your cake shell and shift into your human form

Fully naked too (why would there be clothes?)

Aventurine lets out a small grunt from your sudden change in weight but remains asleep

Flipping yourself around, you sit your cute butt on his chest and crawl your upper body under the covers, hands clumsily fumbling around to find your target

You hear your destination before you realize it; as your fingers brush against a bulge, a muffled surprised gasp vibrates from his chest against your bare pussy

The heat within you continues to grow as you squirm and squeeze your thighs around his shoulders to quell it.

Your eyes tear from frustration when you’re unable to figure out the strange human contraption that blocked you from his waiting cock

You rest your head on his muscled thigh and mouth his clothed bulge, wishing that you weren’t so dumb and useless

Low moaning noises rose from the man behind you, which you were taught was a good sign

You give his dick kitten licks and sloppily drool all over his expensive pants as you mimic sucking motions

Subconsciously your hips buck into his chest, rubbing your slick into his heated skin above the unbuttoned part of his shirt

All the while your tears continue to fall from your face, feeling unfulfilled from not completing your purpose

You were so focused on your task that you failed to realize the man behind you had awoken

It wasn’t until you felt a hand roughly pulling your hair back that you squealed in surprise, teary eyes meeting an angry bright pink

“I knew it. Everything about that letter was weird.”

You were resting awkwardly, limbs twisted as you stared up at him with wide, unsuspecting watery eyes. The room was silent as you held your breath out of fear of upsetting him

Too focused on the feeling of betrayal, Aventurine ignores your innocent pleading gaze and pins you to the headboard

“Don’t play dumb with me. What is your actual purpose here?”

You nervously squirm in his hold, legs still wrapped around his waist. He’s glaring at you but you can see the flicker of his eyes from your face to your bare chest, as well as the still hard bulge pressing against your pussy

“I said,” he hisses. “State your purpose.”

Tears begin to fall from your face, afraid that you’ve let him down. He seemed slightly startled at your tears but didn’t remove the dirty look from his face. Why was he looking so angry even though he was displaying all the correct signs of arousal?

You try your best to decipher his sentences; you only know one word that a pretty brunette lady had mentioned multiple times while training you with various men

“Purpose” you echo his words, before shifting your hips and attempting to grind down on his dick. “Purpose…”

You hold his gaze, hoping to communicate with him through action

Despite his anger, Aventurine was a smart man and figured you must be referring to… explicit activities

“I see. So this is what she meant by ‘experiment…’”

His eyes glaze over as you watch him get lost in his thoughts; of what this meant, what to do next

Displeased, you squeeze your bound arms out of his hold and grip his shoulders, whimpering as you press your sensitive pussy on his hardness

Aventurine felt conflicted; on the one hand, he disliked being deceived

On the other hand…

“Oh god,” he groans as your heat catches on the clothed tip of his dick

On the other hand, it had been a long time since he last felt the warmth of a woman, nevertheless one who was seemingly so eager to please him

But he knew this was wrong. This was an artificially made creature after all, not even a real person

Still he felt a twinge of sympathy for you as you probably had no choice in your behavior

And he knew what it was like to be in the unknown

He listens to the good of his conscience, gripping your plush thighs and pulling you onto his right thigh instead, ignoring the protest of his aching cock

Gesturing toward his thigh, he guides you to move your hips

“You can use any other part of me to satisfy yourself. I’ll… find some way to return you to your creator afterward”

He knew you couldn’t understand a word he said and if he were being honest with himself he was simply rambling to fill the space, poorly concealing the fact that his pretty eyes were glued to the movement of your wet pussy on his silk pants

Confused, you let out a soft cry and move to paw at his dick, only for him to firmly grasp your wrist and pull you back

You couldn’t understand why he was refusing to have you, this had never happened before

The soft cloth of his pants and firm muscle underneath provided enough friction to satisfy you temporarily

It wasn’t enough, but if it was all you could have…

You give up trying to reach for his cock and instead hump his thigh needily, mewling each time your clit pressed into the muscle of his thigh

Aventurine swallowed hard and nearly gave in as your pussy grinds a little too close to where he wanted it

He watches you with half-lidded eyes, and you swear that you see his eyes glowing for a moment

You let out several gasps in a row, eyes rolling back as you felt your climax approaching

A part of Aventurine wishes that you wouldn’t finish, that you would need his help and beg so that it was you who initiates instead of him

But you let out a few more gasps, and came undone on his hard thigh, pussy clenching around nothing as you catch his cock twitching against his pants out of your peripheral

Panting, you fell against his chest but tears continued to fall from your dissatisfaction

Your walls ached for something thick and hard to fill it, and in that moment it felt like nothing in the world mattered but to fulfill that desire

And in a way that was true, it was all you were made for

“Need…” you whimpered out, gesturing to his cock. You didn’t touch it in fear of being pushed away, instead you communicated your want through eye contact and a single word

Aventurine’s internal conflict had begun to boil, and your desperate pleas were the tipping point

“Alright baby, alright. You can have me” He gives in, shakily pulling down his pants with one hand while the other keeps you steady on his lap

You nearly drool at the sight of his cock, flushed and painfully hard, slapping against his shirt

“Just this once, yea? Once and that’s all” His voice is all raspy now, attention solely focusing on getting his needy cock into your slobbering hole.

It was you who couldn’t even speak human, so why did he feel like he was the one about to be fucked dumb?

Your ears flatten against your head as you felt the tip of his cock against your pussy, and the stretch itself nearly has you crumbling in relief

He clenches his jaw, biting back an ungodly moan at the feeling of your tight gummy walls clenching around his sensitive tip like a vice. He holds still so as to not cum with just the tip in you

You however, were impatient and wanted his cock now. With one swift movement, you sink down on his shaft, a layer of cream and juices forming at the base of his cock where you two were connected

Unable to help himself, Aventurine lets go of the bruising bite he had on his lips and moans a depraved, desperate noise

All thought of how wrong this was left his mind, and all that was left was a persistent echo that told him to fuck into your squelching hole

You had a purpose and you were on the way to achieving that

The next morning, Aventurine is sleeping soundly with you cuddled up against him when he hears a ding from his tablet

Hello gambler, this is Ruan Mei

I do hope that you are not too angry with the surprise. I’m guessing that you aren’t too disappointed though, as you looked like you could use the extra company. She is the first creature I have made for the purpose of procreation; most of my creations lack this need as they are lab-raised creatures who do not need this function. Feel free to return the product if you were unsatisfied with its… performance.

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Disclaimer:

This is my first fic so uh sorry if he’s OOC >.>

Idk how people work

Or real sex

I just know that I’ve read way too many depraved fics and I need to make my own \(; - ;)\

I swear as I was writing this my thoughts were entirely drawn from prior fics I read and they all just came together to write this horny draft. IT’S LIKE I’M AI

Anyways have a lovely day :)

#aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine hsr #hsr imagines #hsr x reader #aventurine x reader smut #hsr x reader smut #unedited #i don't know how to tag #i need him #foaming at the mouth #i wasted my whole afternoon on this

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mehiwilldoitlater · 6 months

Text

My mind just rumbled after watching GOLD for the first time, and I just had to:

Imagine being in a human shop behind your bars. You wish for something better, but you still want to believe that you can still be happy, so you still hold on to the hope that you can be free.

You like to sing to yourself and collect small things that people lost in reach of your hand from the other side of your cell. You catch the attention of a man; the first thing you notice is his red hair and that bright smile on his face. He compliments your voice, which seems quite nice, even knowing your status as a slave.

Days pass, and he keeps visiting you, catching that his name is Shanks and he's a pirate. You shared with him your small collection and your dream to finally be able to be free from your status, or to hope at least to be sold to a good person. He listens, he's nice, and maybe deep down you hope he could be your buyer, but he's a pirate after all.

One day, someone finally buys you. It's an old man who wants a servant for his spoiled daughter and his son, who just can't stop eating you from head to toe. You're sad to see your hope shattering in front of you when the three start to drag you away. Until, just at the end of the town, in the forest, you hear some gunshots and screams.

You're not sure of what happened, but when you saw the carriage door open, you recognized his smile.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, sweetheart!"

#one piece #shanks #red haired shanks #shanks x reader #one piece x reader

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meangirls-imagines · 6 months

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Welcome to the Poly!Plasticsverse!

collab with: @yungpoetfics (my fav bubs in the world)

Regina George

@queenbgina/@callmereginald (she/her)

North Shore's Queen Bee

Soft for her girlfriends

The mom of the group

Basically a sugar mommy for her girls

Lifehack Geek

TikTok hater

Has rational fear of werewolves

Will fight a bitch

Victoria's Secret girly

Female rapper stan (Doja, Cardi, Megan, etc.)

Gryffindor

Lesbian

Gretchen Wieners

@thegretchenw/@greatgretsby (she/her/it (only if ur special))

The second mom of the group

Softest human

Loves playing with her girlfriends hair

#1 Twilight hater

Has a letterboxd account just to leave bad reviews

The level headed one usually, but will snap when she needs

Cuddly as fuck

Loves Fleur du Mal lingerie

Stubborn as Fuck

Wine drinker/expert

Loves vintage music (Elvis, Elton John, etc.)

Hufflepuff

Bisexual

Karen Shetty

@karebearz/@karensheetty (any pronouns)

Ambidextrous™️

Loves Spongebob

Plant Parent

Knows Britney Spears and Lady Gaga choreo

Kpop girly (Blackpink, BTS, etc.)

Lettering expert

Has Funko Pop collection

Squishmallow lover

Ravenclaw

Pansexual

Cady Heron

@cady_heron/@defnotcaddy (she/her)

The third mom of the group

Whispers when angry

Carries bandaids at all times

Always has snacks

Lactose Intolerant (but LOVES cheese)

Cries at Rom-Coms

LOVES hugs

Cannot handle spicy food

Sleeps with a teddy bear

Happy to be here

Friends with everyone's parents

Token vanilla of the group

Has diary (with a heart shaped lock)

Bisexual

Aaron Samuels

@aaronsammy/@atomicaaron (he/him) or (ho/mie)

1/3 of Terror Trio

Y/N's best friend

North Shore's resident Himbo

Will do anything if someone says "I dare you"

Impulsive buyer

Has one brain cell (shares it with Y/N)

Overuses 💪 emoji

Usually confused

1/2 Golden Retriever duo

Can skateboard

Uses Axe body spray

Co-founder of Stuntmares

Dreams of grabbing a teddy in a claw machine (bucket list item)

Ass man

Owns too many grey sweatpants

Kisses his homies (homiesexual)

Has never watched Harry Potter

Watches lifestyle coaches on YT

Can play the ukulele (really badly)

Loves Eminem and Harry Styles (would fuck Harry Styles)

Writes Larry Stylinson fanfics

Kissed Y/N once (regretted immediately)

Bisexual

Damian Hubbard

@hubbarddamian/@damianishubby (he/him/they)

Learned how to sew from Janis

Does drag and has a YT channel (Anita Dick)

Huge Adore Delano stan

Will fight anyone who hurts Janis

Doesn't like Rupaul as a person, but is a religious Drag Race fan

#1 Poly!Plastics fan

Has an 8 step skincare routine

Cameraman for Stuntmares

Earlybird

Lies about having curfew to go to sleep early

Ravenclaw

(Lowkey wishes he was a Slytherin bc it's the "cuntiest house"

Him and Karen watch The Bachelor

Fav movie is Dirty Dancing (did the lift with Janis)

Learned how to twerk from Y/N

Gay

Janis Imi'Ike

@janiisimiike/@imiikenough (she/they)

Secret Barbie girly(live action and animated movies)

Will go straight for Ryan Gosling

Feral chihuahua of the group

Hozier stan

HATES THE KARDASHIANS

Pain in Regina's ass

Anger Issues™️

Secretly loves Olivia Rodrigo

Mentally Ill friend

Emotional Drunk

Karaoke Queen

Tits girly

Leather Jacket lesbian

Getting piercings > therapy

Has a suit collection

Thrifter

Loves her friends

Dog person (secretly)

Quotes niche memes

Kinky af

Middle Child

Lesbian

Y/N Y/L/N (FC: Chrissy Costanza)

@thisbeyn/@reginaslefttit (she/he/they/it)

2/3 Terror Trio

2/2 Golden Retriever duo

Has matching fried egg tattoo with Aaron.

Co-Founder of Stuntmares

"Hi, I'm Y/N and welcome to Stuntmares" *jumps off roof into pool*

Cuts her own hair

Blooper Reel Queen

North Shore's resident stoner

AUDHD (autistic + ADHD)

Playlists range from Beethoven to ashnikko

"IT'S NOT A PHASE. IT'S A LIFESTYLE."

Demisexual

Plays electric guitar

Has slight speech impediment

Gremlin of the group

D&D Dungeon Master

ALWAYS falls asleep during movie night

Power Nap Addict™️

Insomniac

Monster Energy Drink Enthusiast (collects the cans)

Oddly good at Origami

Tweets everything she thinks

Has been banned from Fortnite and Roblox

Married to Gretchen on The Sims (regina and karen were sad)

Anger issues

✨Spicy✨ Latina (do not fuck with her people)

Matching rings with her gfs

Def had one night stand with Cady

Shane Oman

@shaneomann/@omantastic (he/him) or (dumb/hoe)

Loves Old School Rap (Biggie, Tupac, Snoop Dogg, etc.)

Hates Y/N at first but comes to love her like a sister.

Only person who can outsmoke Y/N.

Has a dropped truck with red LED lights under it.

Blasts music walking down the halls.

Always has the zoomies.

Orange cat friend.

Has elevator music playing in his head 24/7.

Challenged Damian to a dance off. (He lost. But he had girls simping over him)

Posts thirst traps on TikTok. (Regina's mom is his #1 follower)

Has a frying pan tattooed to match Aaron and Y/N.

Always on Stuntmares trying to create new world records.

Or eating a bunch of weird combos.

"Oman! Not again!" *proceeds to eat a marshmallow and spam sandwich*

Ralph Lauren man

Whenever the polycule argues, he's a "fuck this shit, I'm out" person.

Professional party crasher

Dine and Dash expert

Has nipple piercings (Aaron and Y/N dared him to get them)

Curses like a fucking sailor (Half of his lines on Stuntmares are just censor beeps)

Talks way too fast.

Knows Italian and Spanish (Him and Y/N talk shit in Spanish)

His ringtone for Aaron and Y/N is the remix of the Windows error sound

Loves t-shirts with offensive prints (Regina tries to make him dress normally)

Has gc with Aaron and Y/N called "Hoemies"

Would fuck Aaron

TICKLISH

Major gossip (Him and Gretchen meet once a week to talk shit)

#regina george x reader #karen shetty x reader #gretchen wieners x reader #aaron samuels #cady heron #janis imi'ike #damian hubbard #poly!plasticsverse

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iisasarcasticlittleshite · 8 months

Text

I know you can be louder than that (Lucifer)

BIG warnings for this one guys! Major NSFW! Minors, Do NOT Interact! Warnings: FEM!AFAB MC, Semi public sex, voyeurism. Lucifer uses MC to punish his brothers, mentions of pact use.

Summary: Lucifer's had a helluva week, his brothers have done nothing but contribute to the chaos. MC's been doing her best to help, but maybe he's got one more use for his favourite human.

Lucifer is tired.

This is not news, he's a hardworking demon with enough on his plate on a good day to make lesser demons buckle, but this week had been...hellish, for lack of a better word.

The prince has been swamped with extra requests from the house of lords, which means Lucifer has been swamped with Student Council papers which would otherwise be Diavolo's workload, as well as his regular duties, and on top of that, his brothers have wrought absolute havoc.

Asmodeus started an internet fight with some important modelling agency which needed smoothing over, Belphie missed roughly 80% if his classes this week, Beel caused damages in three separate restaurants after eating their entire stock, and of course Mammon sold one of Lucifer's cursed records.

Lucifer hasn't even had the time to track the record down again and punish his brother properly because he's so swamped, and his only saving grace-

"Can I come in?"

MC pops her head in, having knocked gently at the door, a wrapped package tucked under her arm and a steaming mug balanced carefully in her hand.

She's giving him that look, the look of a woman who knows he's overworked and stressed and wishing he could do literally anything else.

"That depends, have you more news of my brothers causing further damage to our reputation?" Lucifer huffed, to which MC chuckled.

"Your brothers are in the dining room, doing their damned homework and student council papers that they've neglected lately." MC explained, handing him the mug of steaming coffee and sliding the slim package onto his desk.

"And how in the Devildom did you manage that?"

MC chuckled and perched herself on the edge of his desk beside him, her leg brushing his. She met his gaze, and her eyes swam with the colours of his brother's magics. She's used her pacts.

Rarely does MC use those pacts to get the brothers to do anything, more often she can talk them into behaving, but she's been stretched just as thin as Lucifer trying to keep things under control.

Lucifer chuckled, his gaze alight with pride in his little human's use of her power and sipped his coffee before drawing his attention to the envelope. "And this?"

MC watched him open it with eager eyes as he slid the missing record from its case. "That was harder to track down than I thought it would be. Mammon gave the buyer back their grimm."

"You are a wonder, MC." Lucifer couldn't help but grin, inspecting the record for damage. It was still in immaculate condition, a trace of her magic still clinging to it protectively. He slid out from behind his desk and slid the record back into its rightful place on the shelves of his office attached to the library.

He looked back at his desk, the pile of papers still awaiting him, and the smiling human perched beside it, smiling at him, legs dangling over the edge of his desk.

He stepped closer, and MC spread her legs to let him step between her thighs, his gloved hand sliding over her cheek, smiling as she leaned into him.

MC's hands slid up his chest, settling around his neck to play with the hair at the back of his neck. "What do you need from me, Luci?"

His heart swelled, cold and unfeeling as it had once been. Dear human, who already does so much for his family, whose absence he's convinced would spell the end of the world.

Lucifer's hands slid to her hips, drawing her closer. What does he need?

He needs those papers to disappear, he needs his brothers to learn their place, he needs a damned break, but none of that could happened-

Or maybe it could.

MC arched a brow as the demon's eyes damned near lit up, and his magic reached out, pulling his office door open. She thought he'd ask her to leave, but instead, Lucifer came down upon her with a passion, his lips crashing into hers in a searing kiss as he stole the breath from her lungs.

He pushed her down until she was flat on his desk, stationary and papers shoved carelessly aside. More work for later? Perhaps, but he's got something else on his mind now.

Lucifer nipped at her lower lip, smirking at the quiet whimper she let free. "Correct me if I'm wrong, my darling, but my idiot brothers are all gathered in the dining room, correct?"

"Yes..."

"And they cannot leave without your permission, correct?"

MC gulped, realising what he was getting at, why he'd opened the door...the other 6 have only the library between them, and the doors are all open.

"Lucifer-ah!"

The first born dove for her neck, one hand nimbly unbuttoning her shirt, exposing her soft skin as sharp teeth nipped marks into her delicate skin.

The material of his gloves raised gooseflesh in his wake as he cupped her breast and squeeze, thumb and forefinger gently tugging at her sensitive nipple as the cold air greeted her.

MC whined, tangling her fingers in the demon's hair, her nails gently scraping against his scalp as he shoved his hips forward, grinding against her clothed heat.

"Lucifer, they'll hear!"

"You're damned right they will." He growled against her skin, nipping at the shell of her ear, smattering hungry kisses against her skin. "They've acted like menaces all week, they deserve punishment in kind."

MC would have laughed at the pettiness of Lucifer's actions if not for the sight of him pulling off his gloves with his teeth, his gaze dark with lust as heat shot down her centre and she squirmed against the desk.

This was out of character, for Lucifer to flaunt her so to his own brothers, but perhaps the stress of the week had piled up enough. He needs a release, and he's chosen her.

His bare fingers were cold against her hips as he pulled at her waistband, demanding she lift her hips while never forcing her. She could always stop him, if she wished.

MC lifted her hips for him to slide her leggings down her legs, reaching hungrily for him, but Lucifer took her hands and guided them to her knees, his eyes on her quickly wettening centre.

"Hold yourself open for me, love..." The Avatar of Pride dropped to his knees, sinking his teeth into her soft thigh, driving another whine from her lips as he dragged a finger through her glistening folds.

Lucifer wasn't one for teasing, not when he knows what he wants, but he paused barely an inch away from her heat. "May I, my darling?"

"Yes, please...Lucifer!" She gasped and arched as he dove forward, licking a long stripe from her entrance to her pearl, collecting her wetness on his tongue before circling her clit with confident strokes.

Saccharine moans tumbled from her lips, clinging to the backs of her knees, keeping herself open for him as Lucifer suckled at her clit.

She felt the tug at her magic, the brothers had noticing something was off.

As if Lucifer had sensed the shift in her magic, he licked more firmly, lightly dragging his teeth over her sensitive skin, drawing a muffled yelp from MC as she struggled to keep hold of those leashes. "Luci-I can't-"

"You can hold them." He filled his palms with the globes of her ass, yanking her closer to him so he could gorge himself properly. "And I know you can be louder than that."

MC's eyes went wide, but the demon buries his face in her cunt and shoves his tongue inside her, curling it just right and she sang for him, her voice flowing free as she forced her will behind her magic and slammed down on the pacts. Those brothers had driven her mad all week, she wasn't above petty revenge.

Pride surged in Lucifer's chest as he wrapped an arm around her trembling thigh, fingers toying with her clit as his tongue plunged in and out of her heat, his own desire restricted by his trousers as he chased the pleasure out of her, relishing every cry that fell from her lips, every shiver and whine.

His brothers could hear, his phone was exploding in his pocket, and Lucifer was glad of it, they got to hear what they could not have. He couldn't think of a better punishment.

Her walls quivered around his tongue, close to her end, and with his eyes he demanded she be loud, and his dear, sweet, reliable human delivered.

She tumbled over the edge, practically wailing his name and other pornographic noises and she tumbled over the edge, her slick wetting Lucifer's chin as he drove her through her orgasm.

"Don't relax too much, my darling. My brothers haven't been punished enough."

#obey me #obey me x mc #obey me lucifer #obey me smut #lucifer smut #lucifer x mc #lucifer x mc smut

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bossbtch1 · 8 months

Text

Cat and Mouse part 2 (end)

Part 1, Part 2

Summary : Having left Bucky and the past behind, you managed to sold the artifact and anonymously return the stolen case. Seeking solace, you settled in a quaint cottage. However, your peaceful life is disrupted when a familiar face from your past, appeared on your doorstep. Run, hide, repeat. But will you outrun your hunter?

Pairings : Bucky Barnes x f!reader as Black Cat

TW : Smut, NSFW, 18+ ONLY

Tags : Fluff, Chase, Hunter & Prey, Stalking, Suspense, Banter, Flirting, Playful!Bucky, Flirty!Bucky, Sexual Tension, Dirty Talk, Begging, Fingering, Oral f receiving, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasm, Creampie

Words : 11,1k

A/N : The part y'all have been waiting for. Enjoy!

My Masterlist

After that day, you needed to get out of the city, Bucky would be pissed about you getting away again. But you also wanted to keep yourself busy, and you had the perfect distraction. You sold the artifact for a fortune and lived a comfortable and safe life, what the buyer wanted with the artifact was none of your business. You also returned the vibranium you stole to the Avengers, anonymously of course.

You found the place by chance, a small cottage in the countryside. It was exactly what you needed, peace and quiet. You didn't need to worry about being followed, no one knew where you were.

You settled into a routine, the days passing quickly. You spent your time painting, the sun shining through the windows. It was the perfect place to hide, and you were going to enjoy it. The days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months. You kept yourself busy, enjoying the peace and quiet. But you couldn't help but miss the excitement of the city, and the thrill of the chase.

One day, as you were reading a book, you heard a noise coming from outside. You went to investigate, and there was no one there. You were sure that someone was there, though, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

You didn't know if it was an animal or a human, but you knew that something was out there. You grabbed your gun, the metal cool against your palm. You stepped outside, the night air crisp and cool.

The silence was broken by a twig snapping, and you whirled around, your gun pointed at the darkness. You saw a shadow move, and you fired a warning shot. "Who's there?," you called out, your voice echoing through the trees.

There was no answer, only silence.

You walked further into the woods, the leaves crunching beneath your feet. You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears, the blood rushing through your veins.

Suddenly, you felt something brush against your leg. You looked down, and a pair of glowing eyes stared back at you. The cat meowed and ran off into the shadows, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You were sure that someone had been watching you, but now, it seemed like you were just being paranoid. You made your way back to the cottage, the gun still clutched in your hand.

You decided to spend the rest of the night inside, with the doors and windows locked. You sat in front of the fireplace, the flames casting eerie shadows across the room. You didn't sleep that night, the feeling of being watched lingering.

You were going to have to be more careful, the feeling of being watched was a new one. Maybe it was the isolation getting to you, maybe it was the paranoia. Either way, you had a feeling that things were about to get interesting.

In the morning, you packed a bag, your gun tucked away. You weren't sure what was going on, but you weren't about to take any chances. As you finished packing, you hurried outside, hoping to make it to the town before dark.

Then as you opened your door, you saw Bucky. His hair was longer, and he was wearing a hoodie and jeans, but you would recognize him anywhere. He was leaning against the hood of your door, his arms crossed over his chest. It was like he had been waiting for you.

"Hello, Y/N," he said, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You tried to stay calm, your mind racing. You couldn't believe that he had found you, and you were suddenly aware of how close he was. You didn't move, your hand tightening around the doorknob.

He eyes your bags, he smirked, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Going somewhere?"

You were so shocked to see him, that you couldn't find the words to speak. He looked even more handsome than you remembered, his hair slicked back, and a few days' stubble on his chin.

You smiled trying to hide the fact that your heart was pounding in your chest. "Bucky. What a coincidence, I was about to go visit you. You know, for our reunion." you lied, not wanting him to know how truly scared you were.

Bucky gave you a knowing look. "Sure you were."

Your face fell as he pushed past you, entering your house. You followed him, closing the door behind you. "Bucky, what are you doing here?"

He ignored you, his gaze roaming over the cottage. You watched as his eyes took in every detail, and you hoped he wouldn't notice the small bag by the door.

"You know, this is a really nice place," he said, his fingers brushing over a wooden table. "You did a good job picking it."

"I've worked hard on it," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky turned to you, his eyes meeting yours. "It shows."

You shifted nervously, not sure what to say. He walked closer to you, his body inches from yours. You could feel his breath on your face, and you struggled to control your breathing.

"I've missed you, Y/N," he said, his voice husky. "After that little stunt you pulled, I gotta say I'm impressed."

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry. You could feel your heart beating fast, and you wanted nothing more than to run. But you knew that he wouldn't let you, and the thought made your stomach turn, in a good and bad way but more good than bad somehow.

You shrugged, "What can I say? I had the element of surprise."

He nodded, his gaze falling on you. "Oh you do. But I know that's not all there was to it."

You felt his hands on your waist, and you shivered. Your eyes met his, and you saw the desire there, the raw need. You pried his hands from you as you pulled away from him and asked "How did you find me?"

He shrugged, "It wasn't easy. You really know how to hide your tracks, but I've always been good at finding people. You're not the only one who's good at being a ghost."

You didn't respond, your mind racing. You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew he was waiting for an answer. You didn't know what to say, so you decided to play along.

"So what do you want, Bucky? Why are you here?"

"I said I missed you, doll." He sat on the sofa, patting the seat beside him. "Now, why don't you sit down, and we can talk about it."

You didn't follow his command, instead choosing to stand a safe distance away from him. He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips curling into a smile.

"Why don't you tell me the real reason you're here?," you said, a slight edge to your voice.

He leaned back, his blue eyes never leaving yours. "Like I said, I missed you. I was worried about you, so I came to check on you.”

Rolling your eyes, patience wearing thin, you retorted, "Stop lying, Bucky. I highly doubt you trekked all the way here just for a casual chat," you challenged, crossing your arms.

He stood up, his hands in his pockets. "Alright, you got me. I want to play a game with you."

You laughed, shaking your head. "A game? You came all the way out here just to play a game? Really, Bucky?"

"Weren't you the one who said life is just a game and we're all players in it?," he said, walking toward you.

You were taken aback, surprised that he remembered. "I did," you said, taking a step back.

"So, are you ready to play?"

You took another step back, your heart racing. "What kind of game?"

He stepped closer, his body inches from yours. "It's the game you love playing the most, cat and mouse.”

You couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation hitting you. "What to do? I’ve put that behind me. As you can see.” You walked toward your new place, “I’m living a simple, safe, and normal life."

Bucky shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. "Are you, Y/N? I'm not so sure." he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

You could feel his gaze on you, and you shifted uncomfortably. "I am."

Bucky chuckled, “You’re fooling yourself, sweetheart.” He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving yours. “Beside, I know you love a good chase, and I'm the best there is."

"Bucky, I'm done running," you said, the truth of your words hitting you hard.

Bucky shook his head, his lips curved in a mischievous grin. "But we haven't even started yet, doll. The fun hasn´t begun yet."

You couldn't deny that Bucky was right, you did love the thrill of the chase, and the idea of him chasing you sent a shiver down your spine. You bit your lip, trying to think of a way out of this. But you knew it was no use, he had trapped you. “How does this so-called game work?”

"It's as straightforward as it gets. I chase, you run. If I catch you, I win. If you manage to stay away from me, congratulations, you win."

"What are the rules?" you asked, already suspecting the answer.

"No rules, sweetheart. Just a good old-fashioned chase. No tricks, no traps, just a straight chase.”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his confident demeanor. "And what's the prize for the winner?"

Bucky's smirk deepened. "Ah, that's the fun part. If you win, we go our separate ways, never to cross paths again. Or....." his voice trailed off, his eyes burning with desire.

You were frozen, his words sending shivers down your spine. You knew that you shouldn't have gotten involved with him, but you couldn't help yourself. He was charming, and sexy, and everything you'd ever wanted in a man.

"Or?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Or," he leaned forward, his breath hot against your skin, "you get to have your wicked way with me."

Your heart skipped a beat, your mind racing. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't help yourself. You tried to hide your excitement hearing that, you scoffed, trying to play it cool. "What? Like tie you up and have my way with you?"

Bucky nodded, his lips curved in a smirk. "If that's what you want, doll. Whatever gets you off."

You blushed, not expected such a candid answer. He sure did change, what to say? He was more playful now? You wondered what happened with him.

He smiled, "You can even blindfold me, so I can't see what's coming. That's how confident I am."

"You're bluffing."

"Try me." He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "But I promise, whatever you do to me, I'll love it."

"This is stupid, Bucky."

"Maybe, but I know you want to."

You crossed your arms, adopting a defiant stance. "And what makes you so sure?"

Bucky grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "The way you look at me, the way you bite your lip when I get close. It's written all over your face, sweetheart."

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, "You're reading too much into things."

"Am I now?" He stepped back, feigning innocence. "Guess we'll find out during our little game. You can try to run, but you won't be able to escape the truth."

You scoffed, "This whole thing is ridiculous. Why did you even come here?"

Bucky's demeanor shifted, his expression turning sincere. "Because I missed you, Y/N. And maybe, just maybe, I missed the chase too."

Your eyebrows shot up, skeptical. "You missed the chase?"

He nodded. "There's an excitement to it, a thrill that I can't find anywhere else. Plus, chasing you is always interesting."

You could feel your resolve crumbling, your need for him overtaking your sense. You wanted to say yes but there must be a catch, there had to be, and he had already admitted that it was a game.

"What's the catch, Buck? There's got to be a catch."

"No catch, sweetheart."

You raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. He seemed like the type who would play by his own rules, take what he wanted. Perhaps, this was his strategy – make you believe there were no strings attached, only to surprise you later. "And if you win?" you asked, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

He leaned in, his voice a low whisper. "If I win, I get to keep you."

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you could feel your cheeks burning. "What do you mean by 'keep me'?"

He gave you a wolfish grin. "Whatever you're thinking, it's not even half of it."

You were stunned by his response, your mind racing. You knew that if he caught you, you'd never be able to escape him, and a part of you was excited by the idea. But the rational side of you knew it was a bad idea, and you had worked too hard to let it all go to waste.

You stepped closer to him, your body inches from his. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and you could smell his intoxicating scent. "That's a bit unfair, the win and the loss," you replied, a slight smile on your face.

He raised an eyebrow, "Are you worried I'll catch you?"

You couldn't help but chuckle, his confidence was admirable. "No, I'm just saying it's not a fair reward.”

"Maybe. But what's life without a little risk?" He smiled, "Besides, I know you love a challenge."

You bit your lip, thinking. The thought of spending time with Bucky was exciting, and the idea of him chasing you was equally thrilling.

But was the risk worth it?

You knew that if you lost, you'd be stuck with him. And the thought of being at his mercy made your heart race.

You had to admit, the possibility of losing, was also a turn on. The thought of him catching you and taking his reward, sent a shiver down your spine.

You smiled, "Fine. I'll play."

He smiled, "I'm glad, I wouldn't want you to lose confidence in your abilities."

"Confidence isn't an issue, I know how good I am," you retorted, a smirk on your lips.

"Well, let's put that to the test, shall we?", he said, glancing at his watch.

You knew that there was no point in arguing with him, and you were secretly excited by the challenge. "What if I choose the first option? That we’re going to separate our own way?”

"If that's what you want, sweetheart." He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But I know that's not the case."

"Oh, really? How would you know?," you asked, folding your arms across your chest.

"Because you want it just as bad as I do. You're just afraid of losing control."

His words struck a nerve, and you couldn't deny the truth in them. Fear of losing control had always been your Achilles' heel. Swallowing your pride, you retorted, "Don't flatter yourself."

Bucky stepped closer, the air charged with anticipation. "I've seen the fire in your eyes, doll. You thrive on the chaos, the unpredictability. Deep down, you want to lose control and let go."

Your facade wavered, a momentary vulnerability breaking through. "Maybe you don't know me as well as you think."

Bucky's gaze held an intensity that made your heart race. "Challenge accepted, sweetheart. Let the game begin."

You squared your shoulders, accepting the challenge laid out by him. "Fine. Let's see what you've got."

"Good. Now, I'll give you a ten-minute head start. Use it wisely," Bucky offered.

You were surprised that he was willing to give you a head start, and you wondered if it was a trick. But you knew that it didn't matter, either way, the result would be the same. You had no doubt that he would catch you.

"Ready," he asked, his blue eyes boring into yours. "Can't wait to claim my prize."

Your laughter echoed through the room. "Sure, but you should know, I don't lose."

His grin was equal parts confident and mischievous. "Neither do I, sweetheart. Neither do I."

"Now, get going, sweetheart. And try to make this fun for me, won't you?"

"Only if you do the same for me," you teased, before running out the door, the thrill of the chase sending a shiver down your spine.

"Oh I will, sweetheart. Don't you worry about that." As he watched you ran off into the woods, he was already planning on how to claim his prize. As much as the chase excited him, Bucky wasn't going to rush things. He was going to savor every moment of this savor every moment of this game.

You didn't have much of a head start, but you were determined to make the most of it. You knew that Bucky was a formidable opponent, and that you had to use your wits to evade him. You also knew that he was tracking you, which made it even more challenging. You quickly made your way through the woods, staying low and quiet. You knew the woods in the back of your head, and you used that knowledge to your advantage.

You ducked behind a large tree, your breathing heavy. You knew that he would catch up soon, and you needed a plan. You knew that if he caught you, you would be his, and that thought made your stomach flutter. You had 10 minutes head start and you were going to make the most of it.

The wind rustled the leaves, and the sky was darkening. You knew you had to move fast if you wanted to stay ahead. Suddenly, a twig snapped behind you. You turned around, but there was no one there. But you knew he was close, and that sent a thrill down your spine.

You hurried through the woods, careful not to make any noise. You could feel his presence, and you knew that he was closing in on you. You didn't know if he was doing it on purpose, but you didn't care. You were enjoying the game, and you were determined to win. You then heard his voice not far from you.

His taunting voice echoed nearby, "You can run, but you can't hide," accompanied by the teasing refrain, "Come out, come out wherever you are." The continuous taunts grated on your nerves, bordering on annoyance.

You continued to evade him, keeping out of sight. Your heart was pounding, and you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. It had been a while since you'd felt this alive, and you were relishing the feeling.

It had only been 20 minutes, and you were already feeling the exhaustion, but you didn't let that stop you. You kept moving, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. But you knew that it was only a matter of time before he caught up to you, and the thought both excited and scared you.

The sky was growing darker, and the wind was picking up. You could feel the rain threatening to fall, and you knew that the conditions would make it easier for you to hide, the sound and smell of the rain would help conceal your location. You took a deep breath and kept moving. You were determined to win, and nothing was going to stop you. But it would be easier for him to track your tracks since footprints harder to disguise.

The air was cold, and the sky was dark, but you could feel his presence getting closer. You could feel his hunger, and you knew that he wouldn't stop until he caught you. Suddenly you felt a hand covering your mouth, and you turned around to see his piercing blue eyes. You were frozen in place, and your heart was pounding.

"You're losing your touch, Y/N." he said, a grin on his face. "Don't tell me the infamous black cat is getting sloppy," he teased, his hands moving down to your hips.

You felt a mixture of fear and excitement as his hands moved across your body. You were afraid of what would happen next, but you couldn't deny that you wanted him.

"Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?," he asked, his voice a low whisper.

Growing increasingly annoyed, you swatted his hands away. "So what now? You caught me, just get it over with already."

His grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We still have 30 minutes left. I'm feeling generous, so I'll let you off the hook this time. Consider it a free pass. But if I catch you again, I won't be so nice."

You were surprised by his offer, and you didn't know what to do. Part of you wanted him to catch you, but the other part was afraid.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get going."

With a nod, you turned around, ready to put some distance between you. But, just as you began to walk away, he seized your arm. "Oh, and Y/N? Run faster and hide better," his voice dropped to a low growl.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, and just before releasing your arm, you felt his warm breath against your neck. As he vanished into the woods, you found yourself rooted in place, unsure of how to proceed.

You knew that he was testing you, seeing how far you would go. You knew that he was pushing your boundaries, and a part of you liked it. A part of you wanted to give in and surrender to him, but another part of you was afraid.

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. You couldn't let him get the best of you, and you couldn't let him win. Did you really losing your touch? You used to be great at this, even spiderman couldn't find you when he tried. Maybe Bucky was right, maybe you had lost your edge. But that didn't mean you were going to let him win.

You took a deep breath and started running. You were determined to beat him, and nothing was going to stop you. As you ran through the woods, you could feel him getting closer. You didn't know how, but he always managed to find you. You had tried everything, and nothing was working.

You had tried to mask your tracks, you had used all your skills, and nothing was working. You were beginning to think that maybe you had met your match, and that maybe he was just better than you.

You ducked behind a tree, trying to catch your breath. The rain had started to fall, and the air was getting colder. You could feel the exhaustion setting in, but you couldn't give up. You looked at your watch, you had 10 minutes left before the game was over, and you knew that if he caught you again, he wouldn't be so nice.

"Come on, Y/N. You're better than this," you said, trying to motivate yourself.

But deep down, you knew that you had reached the end of your rope. You were exhausted, and you were running out of time. You stayed hidden and prayed that he wouldn't find you after all you had 3 minutes left and then you would win.

1 minute left.

You could feel the rain soaking through your clothes, and you could hear the thunder rumbling in the distance. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, and you were beginning to think that maybe losing wouldn't be so bad. But winning would still feel better, and so you held onto hope.

30 seconds left.

You could hear the wind howling through the trees, and the rain was coming down harder now. Suddenly, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, and you could feel his hot breath on your neck.

"Gotcha," he whispered, marking the end of the game, a victorious smile playing on his lips.

The realization dawned upon you, you had lost.

"So, what do you say, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and seductive. "Ready to be mine?"

Your heart was racing, and your mind was spinning. You had never felt like this before, and you knew that if you surrendered, there would be no going back.

"You wish." Your voice tried to remaind calm.

"Oh, come on, Y/N. Don't be silly. We both know you want this. You were curious about me and now you will have your answer."

You were starting to feel frustrated. He was right, you had been curious about him and his flirting was something you had been enjoying lately, even if you'd never admit it. But you weren't ready to let him know that yet. "Yeah, right. In your dreams."

"Actually, yeah. In my dreams. But I know that in yours, too. That's why you accepted to play this game with me. Because you knew that, one way or another, you'd get what you want. You're just playing hard to get because you like being the center of attention."

"Wow, Bucky, that was deep." You couldn't hide your amusement. "Are you sure you haven't been practicing this speech with your mirror?"

"No, doll. I just know how you work. So, what do you say? Are you ready to surrender and become mine?"

You looked up at him and saw that his blue eyes were filled with desire. You felt your heart skip a beat as you considered his offer. "And why would I agree with that?," you asked, folding your arms across your chest.

"Because you have a weakness for dangerous men, and we both know that I'm the most dangerous man you've ever met," he replied.

You chuckled, breaking the tension. "You really think you're the most dangerous man I've ever met? That's quite the ego you've got there, Barnes."

He raised an eyebrow, unyielding. "Ego or not, you can't deny there's something magnetic between us. It's like we're two sides of the same coin, Y/N."

You feigned contemplation, tapping your chin. "Two sides of a coin, huh? More like oil and water. We don't exactly mix, Barnes."

Bucky took a step closer, his proximity making your heart race. "Maybe that's what makes it interesting. The clash, the unpredictability. Tell me, doll, have you ever been with someone who keeps you on your toes?"

You paused, considering his words. "Maybe, maybe not. What's your point?"

His eyes locked onto yours, a playful glint dancing in them. "My point is, surrendering to me might just be the most thrilling thing you've ever done. No more games, no more hiding. Just us."

You rolled your eyes, trying to mask the effect his words had on you. "Nice try, Barnes. But I don't surrender easily."

"You should be," he said, taking a step closer. "Besides, I can give you everything you want. I can show you pleasure you've never known before. I can make you scream my name and beg for more."

His words were sending shivers down your spine and making your core ache with need.

"You're such a cocky bastard," you said, trying to mask your arousal.

"But you love it," he replied. "Admit it. You're attracted to me. You've been thinking about me for a long time. And you can't wait to see what it would be like to be mine."

You knew he was right, but you couldn't let him win. You couldn't let him have the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten under your skin.

"You're just talking big because you know I'll never give in," you said, trying to regain the upper hand. "You're nothing but a tease."

"Oh, sweetheart, that's where you're wrong. I'm not a tease. I'm a man of my word. And when I say I'll make you scream my name and beg for more, I mean it."

You were losing the battle, and you knew it. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as he continued his seduction. You were tempted to give in, to let him take control and show you what he was capable of.

The rain intensified, drenching both of you as you stood there, caught in a moment of tension. Bucky's gaze bore into yours, and you could sense the unspoken words hanging in the air. The seductive dance between you two seemed to have no end in sight. He knew you wouldn't answer him right now, he changed the subject, "It's freezing out here, sweetheart. Let's go to a warmer place and continue this conversation, shall we?"

"I'm not cold." You lied.

"Sure you are, doll. Just like I am," he replied. His hand extended toward you, a silent invitation. "Come on, let's go inside and get out of these wet clothes. I'll warm you up, I promise."

You hesitated taking his hand for a moment but you decided to take his offer. You could feel his hot gaze on your body, and the thought of getting naked in front of him made you blush. You had never felt so vulnerable before, and yet so safe.

He led the way back to your cottage and the whole way back, you could feel the tension between the two of you. "You got me all wet, jerk."

"Not yet, but I'm planning to, sweetheart."

You couldn't help but laugh. "That was cheesy, even for you, Bucky."

"I don't care," he replied. "I have you where I want you. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide."

You didn't know if it was the adrenaline from the chase or the tension between the two of you, but you were feeling bold. "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that," you replied, "I'm a quick learner, and I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

"So, quick learner, what other tricks do you have up those sleeves?" he teased, playfully squeezed your hand.

You shot him a coy smile. "Oh, Bucky, a magician never reveals her secrets."

A gleam in his eyes. "I like a challenge. Besides, you're not the only one with tricks up your sleeve." His eyes were sparkling with mischief, and you couldn't help but be drawn in. You could feel his fingers close around yours, and a sense of warmth and comfort spread through you.

He led the way back to your cottage and the whole way back, you could feel the tension between the two of you. Your heart was racing, and your palms were sweaty. You didn't know what would happen once you got back, but you were ready for anything.

When you arrived at your home, he walked in first. You followed, closing the door behind you. He took off his soaked coat and you did the same.

Bucky's playful tone sliced through the silence. "So, where were we? Oh, right. You were just about to tell me that you're mine, sweetheart," he said with a teasing glint in his eyes.

"I was just about to tell you that you can take your wet and cold ass and get the fuck out of my house," you shot back, a hint of sarcasm coloring your words.

He raised an eyebrow, feigning hurt. "Wow, you're so mean, sweetheart. It's pouring outside, and I'm soaked, and you're still sending me away?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, "What can I say? I'm a cold and heartless woman."

"You're anything but that, doll," he said, his blue eyes gazing into yours. "And you know it."

You could feel yourself blushing under his intense stare. "Yeah, well, you don't know me," you said.

"Maybe not, but I'd like to," he replied.

You swallowed hard, his words sending a thrill through you. You knew that you shouldn't want him, but you couldn't help yourself. He was everything you had ever dreamed of, and he was standing right in front of you.

He glanced toward the fridge, and you arched an eyebrow at his audacity.

"I didn't think I said to make yourself at home," you quipped, folding your arms across your chest.

He smirked, rummaging through the fridge. "Well, considering I won the game, I think it's only fair I do as I please."

"You can't just show up here, make me play a game, and then take over my house. It doesn't work like that," you replied, feeling annoyed.

"I just did" he said, pulling out a bottle of water. "Why don't you go take a shower while I prepare us something to eat?"

"Excuse me?"

"Go, take a shower," he repeated. "You're soaking wet and covered in mud. You'll catch a cold if you don't warm up."

"And what makes you think I want you in my kitchen?," you asked.

"Because I'm the winner, and I can do whatever I want," he said, his voice low and full of desire.

Your breath caught in your throat as you realized what he was implying. You knew it was a bad idea, but you couldn't resist. You were soaking wet, and the thought of a hot shower was too tempting to pass up.

"Fine," you sighed. "But if you steal or burn my house down, I'll kick your ass."

"I'd like to see you try," he said, grinning.

You rolled your eyes and turned to go upstairs, "Just don't touch anything."

"You're so mean, sweetheart," he called after you.

You ignored him, making your way up the stairs and to the bathroom. You closed the door and leaned against it, trying to catch your breath.

This was insane. Bucky was in your house, in your kitchen, cooking. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to go back to his house and leave you alone. But instead, he was here, and you couldn't deny that you were happy about it.

As you began to undress, the realization struck that Bucky was also drenched from the rain. A sudden impulse led you to search for some old shirts, sweats, and boxers you rarely wore, and you grabbed them before heading downstairs.

"Here," you said, handing him the clothes, a hint of tension in your voice.

"Well, aren't you the little helper," he teased, taking the clothes from you with a playful smirk.

"They're old, but they should fit," you replied, brushing off his comment with a nonchalant demeanor.

You were about to take off your clothes when you remembered that he was also soaking wet from the rain. You searched for some loose shirt, sweats, and boxers that you rarely wear and brought it downstairs.

"Thank you," he said, giving you a soft smile. "Didn't know you care."

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, "I don't. They're just collecting dust in my closet. It's not a big deal."

He chuckled, "If you say so, sweetheart."

A glare shot in his direction, accompanied by a stern, "Stop calling me that."

"Why? It's cute," he persisted.

"I'm not cute," you maintained.

"You are," he insisted, grinning. "In fact, I'd even say you're adorable."

"Stop it," you demanded, feeling your cheeks warm.

"But it's true," he continued, stepping closer.

You shook your head, an involuntary smile breaking through. "You're ridiculous."

"Irresistible, you mean," he corrected, a confident smirk playing on his lips.

Your cheeks now flushed, you urged, "Shut up and change before the food burns," you said, turning to walk away, running away from his teasing.

You made your way to your room and heading toward the bathroom. You quickly stripped off your clothes and climbed into the shower. The hot water felt amazing on your cold, wet skin, and you couldn't help but moan as the steam filled the room.

As you washed the dirt and grime from the game off your body, you couldn't stop thinking about Bucky. You wondered what he was doing downstairs. Was he really making dinner? What did he have planned? What was he planning next after that? Will he stay? Will he fuck you?

Your thoughts were racing, and you couldn't stop them. You tried to calm yourself down, but the more you thought about him, the more worked up you got. You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. You needed to focus on something else. You grabbed your loofah and scrubbed your body, washing away the tension and the anxiety.

After a few minutes, you turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. You wrapped yourself in a towel and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were bright. You were quite annoyed that you couldn't figure him out. He was unpredictable and dangerous, but also charming and sexy. He was a mystery, and you were determined to solve it.

"Stop thinking about him, Y/N," you muttered to yourself. "Just get dressed and go downstairs. You're stronger than this. You can handle him."

With renewed determination, you quickly dried yourself off and put on some clothes. You were still nervous, but you were ready to face him. You left the bathroom and made your way down the stairs, the smell of something delicious wafting through the air.

"You didn't burn down my house, did you?" you called out.

"Not yet," he replied.

You entered the kitchen and saw him stirring something on the stove. "What are you cooking?" you asked, curious.

"Something special," he replied, turning to face you.

"Wow, that smells amazing," you complimented, attempting to divert your attention from the effect he had on you.

"Thank you," he replied, grinning. "Now why don't you take a seat, and I'll bring you a plate."

Obliging, you settled at the kitchen table, your eyes following his movements as he gracefully placed two plates filled with an unfamiliar dish before you.

"What is this?" you inquired, eyeing the plate with intrigue.

"Stew," he replied, taking a seat across from you. "It's a recipe from my mother. I hope you like it."

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words. He had cooked for you? You thought he would be making sandwich or something simple but this looked like a heartwarming dish. You couldn't remember the last time someone had cooked for you.

"Thank you," you said, sitting down at the table.

"Don't thank me yet," he said. "You haven't tasted it."

"Well, let's see how it is," you replied, picking up your fork.

You took a bite and your eyes widened. It was delicious. You couldn't believe how good it was.

"Wow," you said. "This is amazing.”

He nodded, a small smile on his lips. "She would be happy to know someone else likes it."

"Who taught you how to cook?”

"My mother," he replied, a nostalgic expression casting a temporary shadow over his face. "She was the best cook in the village. Everyone loved her food."

"She sounds amazing," you said, feeling a pang of sadness for him.

"She was," he said.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, you teased, “So, is this part of the 'claiming my prize' package? A home-cooked meal and everything?”

He chuckled, a rare and hearty sound that echoed through the room. “Of course, expect more of it in the future.”

The two of you ate in silence, the air thick with tension. You didn't know what to say, or how to feel. Part of you was nervous, and part of you was excited. You had never felt like this before, and it was a strange feeling. You also had to be on guard, you never know what could happen when he's around.

After you had both finished eating, you cleared the table and began to wash the dishes. He helped, drying them and putting them away. You couldn't help but notice how easy it was to work together. It was like you had known each other for years, not just a few days.

You were thinking maybe it was time he claimed his prize or at least talked about it. But instead he went to the living room and started a fire.

"You know how to play chess, Y/N?" he asked, taking out a chess set from his backpack.

"I do," you replied, curious. "But why the sudden interest in chess?"

"Well, I thought since you had such an fun day, why don't we add a little excitement to the night?" he suggested.

"It hasn't exactly been a walk in the park, Bucky," you reminded him.

"Sure it was. We played a game, we ran through the rain, and we shared a nice dinner. Sounds like a pretty fun day to me," he replied.

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile appeared on your face. "You’re impossible," you said.

"And yet, here we are," he said, gesturing to the chess board. "So, what do you say, sweetheart? Up for a game?"

"Fine," you sighed, giving in and joining him.

He nodded and placed the board on the coffee table, his hands moving swiftly and confidently. "I'll let you choose the color," he said.

"Black," you replied, without hesitation.

He grinned and nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Very well," he said.

He sat down across from you, a smirk on his face. He set up the pieces, and the game began. You were surprised by how well he played, he was giving you a run for your money. "You're pretty good," you said, studying the board.

"I am," he replied, not looking up.

"Where did you learn to play?"

"In the army," he replied. "There wasn't much else to do, and the guys liked playing chess."

"You were in the army?"

"I was," he replied. "A Sergeant and World War 2 veteran. Fought alongside with Steve Rogers.”

Your eyes widened at the revelation. "Really? I didn’t know that.”

"Someone clearly didn't do their homework," he smirked, moving his chess piece with a playful confidence.

"I was busy doing other things," you said, smirking in return.

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" he asked, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Like thinking of ways to kill you," you retorded.

He chuckled, "You're a feisty one, aren't you?"

"And you're an asshole," you replied, rolling your eyes.

"Guilty as charged," he replied, shrugging with an amused grin.

You spent the next few hours talking and playing, the atmosphere growing more and more intimate as the night went on. You were both competitive, and you didn't want to give in to him.

But eventually, you won the game.

"Damn," he said, grinning. "That was a good game."

You leaned back in your chair, "I told you, Bucky, I don't lose."

He chuckled, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're full of surprises, sweetheart. I like that." He nodded, standing up. "Thank you for the game," he said, his blue eyes gazing into yours.

"My pleasure," you replied, standing up as well.

You were standing close to him, your bodies almost touching. The air was electric, and you couldn't help but notice how attractive he was. His blue eyes were mesmerizing, and his body was toned and muscular.

As the intensity reached its peak, it felt like a kiss was imminent, but he unexpectedly pulled away, breaking the connection. "It’s getting late, I think we should call it a night," he suggested, his voice low and resonant.

Caught off guard, you questioned, "Wait, what?"

"Yeah. We can continue this tomorrow. It's been a long day, and I'm tired,"

You had enough, "Just cut to the chase, Bucky. Stop messing with my head. Either take your prize, or leave."

"Who says I won't?" He asked, his voice low.

"The fact that you've been here all night and haven't done anything is proof enough," you said, getting annoyed. You didn't know why you were being like this, maybe it was because he made you feel things you didn't understand.

He stepped closer, "Are you that eager for me, sweetheart? Do you want me to take you right now?"

You swallowed, feeling nervous, "No. I don't want anything to do with you."

"You sure?" He asked, walking around the couch. "Because you seem very eager. Why are you so eager, Y/N? What do you want me to do to you?"

"I don't want anything," you insisted.

"I don't believe that," he said, his voice soft. "I think you want me to touch you."

He was standing in front of you now, and he put his hands on your shoulders, his touch feather-light. You felt yourself tremble.

"I think you want me to make you mine, Y/N," he continued, his voice barely a whisper.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moan that was threatening to escape. "Please, get over yourself. I don't want you, Bucky."

He ignored your request, his hands traveling down your arms. "I think you want me to make love to you, Y/N."

His hands moved up and down your arms, his touch leaving a trail of fire. "I think you want me inside of you, Y/N," he said, his voice low.

You let out a small gasp, unable to stop yourself. He smirked at the sound, his eyes darkening with lust.

"I think you want me to claim you as my own, Y/N," he breathed, his breath hot on your ear.

You let out a shaky breath, unable to form words. He chuckled, his hands moving up and down your arms.

"You know what I think?" He whispered, his voice husky. "I think you've wanted this for a long time, Y/N."

"You know what I think, Bucky? I think you're full of shit," you managed to say, though you were far from calm.

He laughed softly, "Oh, really? And why is that, sweetheart?"

"Because you've been talking a lot of shit all night and haven't made a move," you replied, trying to sound confident.

"Well, maybe I'm just waiting for the right moment," he replied, his hands still on your arms.

"And maybe you're just all talk," you said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I assure you, I'm not just all talk," he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Want me to prove it to you?”

“Prove what? You can’t even turn me on, you’re nothing but a-“

Bucky's lips cut off the rest of your sentence, his tongue sliding into your mouth as his hands began to explore your body.

"Fuck, Bucky," you gasped, pulling away. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked, a smirk on his face. "I'm showing you just how turned on I can make you."

Your cheeks flushed and you looked away, "Well, you're doing a shit job of it," you managed to say.

He chuckled and moved his hands down to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised gasp and his lips met yours again, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You wanted to push him, tell him to get the fuck out of your room, but his touch felt too good. You felt a fire ignite inside you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He pressed his body against yours, and you could feel his arousal.

His hands roamed your body, his touch setting you on fire. He kissed you hungrily, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. You moaned, the sound vibrating against his lips. He pulled away with a smirk on his face, you wanted to punch the look right off.

"How about now?" He asked, his voice laced with lust.

"That was nothing," you said, trying to act unimpressed.

He chuckled and leaned down, his lips trailing across your jawline. He nipped at your earlobe, his hands caressing your sides. You let out a soft sigh, your body betraying you.

"Still nothing?" He asked, his lips ghosting across your skin.

"You're going to have to try harder than that," you said, the words coming out as more of a moan.

"Oh, I plan on it," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Well, come on, then," you said, trying to sound uninterested. "You haven't impressed me yet."

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he said, his voice dark. "I'm just getting started."

He kissed you again, his hands roaming your body. He squeezed your breasts under your shirt, causing you to moan into his mouth. He broke the kiss and started kissing your neck, his teeth nipping at the skin. You moaned louder, unable to contain yourself.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" He asked, his voice low. "Not so tough now, are you?"

You gasped as his hands slipping under your bra and pinching your nipples. "Why don't you beg me to fuck you, Y/N? I'll make it worth your while," he murmured against your skin.

"Oh please. I'd never beg for you." You pulled him close, kissing him deeply. You couldn't believe what was happening, but you didn't want it to stop. He pushed his hips against yours, and you could feel his hardness.

You couldn't deny that you were turned on, but you weren't willing to give him the satisfaction.

He grinded against you, his cock rubbing against your pussy through your clothes. "You like that, don't you? You like it when I grind against you," he said, his voice a husky whisper.

"You wish," you said, trying to sound unimpressed.

"You know you do," he said, grinding against you harder.

You couldn't deny the truth. The way his cock felt against you made your panties wet, and you wanted him to fuck you so bad. “Just give in, Y/N. I will give you the best orgasm you've ever had."

You wanted him to fuck you, and he knew it. You didn't want him to have the satisfaction, but you were finding it impossible to resist him. At this rate, your panties were probably soaked, and your need for him was growing stronger.

He pushed his cock against you harder, his hand moving down your stomach, until it was on your pants. He cupped your pussy, and you moaned.

"I can feel how wet you are, Y/N. You're practically dripping for me. All you have to do is say the word, and I'll fuck you like you've never been fucked before," he whispered, his breath hot on your ear.

He tugged at the button, pulling them open. He moved his hand inside, and slipped it into your panties.

"Oh, fuck, Y/N," he moaned. "Your pussy is so wet. It's so tight. It's like it's begging for my cock."

He ran his fingers through your folds, spreading your wetness around. You couldn't believe what was happening. A few moments ago, you hated this man. Now, you were letting him finger you. You moaned, and he smirked.

"You want me to fuck you, don't you, Y/N? You want me to make you cum, over and over again," he said, his voice seductive.

"I think you want that more than I do," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"We'll see about that," he said, his hand moving faster.

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you tried to keep yourself from moaning. "Open your eyes, Y/N. Look at me while I finger fuck your pussy," he said, his voice low.

You opened your eyes and looked into his blue eyes. They were filled with lust and desire. He stared at you intensely, as he slipped two fingers into your pussy.

"You like that, don't you? You like my fingers inside of you," he said, his voice seductive.

You moaned, and tried not to give him the satisfaction. "You're gonna love my cock even more," he said, his thumb rubbing your clit.

You moaned louder, unable to stop yourself. He pulled his fingers out and brought them up to your lips, "Suck," he commanded.

You did as he told you, sucking your juices off his fingers.

"Do you taste that? That's how sweet you taste. That's how sweet your pussy tastes."

You moaned and looked at him, lust filling your eyes. "Now, if you want me to fuck you, then you have to beg for it. You have to tell me how much you want it."

You didn't know if you could do it, you were so turned on, but you were not willing to give in. "No, I won't," you said, defiantly.

"Okay," he said, pushing his fingers into your pussy again. "I'll have you begging for it, sweetheart. You'll be a mess by the time I'm done with you."

He curled his fingers and hit your g-spot, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

"Oh, God," you moaned, unable to control yourself.

He continued to curl his fingers, hitting your g-spot repeatedly. You could feel the pressure building inside of you, threatening to explode. You cried out in ecstasy as you came, your pussy contracting around his fingers.

He smirked, obviously pleased with himself. "That was just a taste of what's to come, Y/N. I haven't even started fucking you yet."

He removed his fingers and started removing his clothes. "If you want more, you have to beg me. You have to tell me how much you want me, how much you want my cock inside of you."

You moaned, your body still shaking from your orgasm. You were very horny, you pulled him into a kiss. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You kissed him back, and your hands started to wander. You moved your hands up his chest, and over his shoulders, feeling the muscles under his shirt. You broke the kiss and looked at him, his eyes full of lust. He looked like he was the one begging now.

"So, sweetheart. What will it be?" He asked, "Are you going to let me fuck you or are you going to keep being a brat and make me fuck it out of you?"

"Oh, I think you'll be begging me before I even consider begging you," you said, smirking.

He let out a growl and ripped the rest of your clothes off. His eyes were full of lust and desire as he took in your naked form. "You're gorgeous," he breathed, his hand moving up your body.

"So are you," you said, unable to deny his attractiveness.

He smirked, "Flattery will get you everywhere," he said, his hands roaming over your breasts.

"Well, it's the truth," you said, your body betraying you.

You kissed him again, and he kissed you back, his hands exploring your body. He pushed his hips against yours, and you could feel his hardness. You gasped as he rubbed his cock again against you. "Do you feel that, Y/N? Do you feel how hard I am for you?" He asked, his voice low.

"Fuck, Bucky." you moaned, your body aching for him.

"Let's take this upstairs, shall we?"

He scooped you up and carried you up the stairs, your lips locked in a passionate kiss. You couldn't believe this was happening, but you didn't want it to stop. He laid you on the bed and stood at the foot of the bed.

He climbed on top of you, straddling your legs, "Spread them," he commanded.

You spread your legs, exposing your pussy. He moved his hand to the apex of your thighs, and spread your wetness around. "Your pussy is so wet for me," he growled.

You moaned, your body responding to his touch. He moved his hand down, and his thumb rubbed against your clit. "Do you want my cock inside of you? Do you want me to fuck you?" He asked, his voice dark and dangerous.

You didn't answer him, he went down and kissed your inner thighs. His kisses trailed higher and higher, and you could feel his hot breath against your skin. You were practically dripping for him. "Are you ready to beg now, my Y/N?"

"No," you said, your voice shaking.

"We'll see about that." His tongue lapped at your clit, sending shivers down your spine.

You moaned, the pleasure too intense. He started sucking on your clit, his tongue flicking back and forth.

"Oh, Bucky," you moaned, unable to control yourself.

He smirked and moved his hand, thrusting two fingers into your pussy. "Beg." He commanded, his voice rough.

"No," you moaned.

"Fuck, Y/N." He groaned, thrusting into you faster. You moaned louder. "I said beg."

"Bucky..." You moaned, you were still trying to resist him, but it was getting pointless.

"Please. Beg for me to fuck you, Y/N. I want nothing else than to be buried inside of you. Tell me how bad you want it and I'll give it to you. Tell me how much you want me to ruck you, to own you, to make you cum. Beg and I'll give all of me to you. We both know that's exactly what you want."

You were so turned on that it hurt. You needed him, and you didn't know how much longer you could hold out. "Yes. Please fuck me, Bucky. I need you so bad. Please make me cum. Please," you begged, your body aching for his.

"Good girl." He smirked and pulled his fingers out of your pussy and stood up. He pushed down his boxers. His cock sprang free, the sight of it made you moan.

"See what you do to me Y/N? See how hard I am for you," he said, stroking his length.

You couldn't help but stare, the sight of his cock making you even wetter. He grinned, enjoying the way you were ogling him. "See something you like?" He teased.

You nodded, "Yes," you breathed.

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "It’s all yours baby,” he said, before moving on top of you and pressing his lips against yours. You kissed him, hungrily, your tongues dancing. He tasted like power and lust, and you couldn't get enough. "You ready, baby?"

"Yes," you moaned.

"Good. Because here it comes." He thrust his hips forward, burying his cock deep inside of you. You cried out in pleasure, the feeling of him inside of you was incredible. "Oh, fuck," he moaned.

He started thrusting his hips, fucking you with his cock. You moaned, the pleasure overwhelming you. "Bucky," you moaned.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He moaned, his hands gripping your hips. He thrust into you, harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. You moaned, his name a mantra on your lips. "That's right, Y/N. Moan my name," he growled. He started thrusting in and out of you, his pace picking up speed.

You gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. He hissed, his cock throbbing inside you. "You like that? You like how my cock feels inside of you?" He asked, his voice a husky growl. "This is all for you, sweetheart. All for you."

"Fuck yes. Please, Bucky, fuck me harder," you moaned, your body writhing under his. You couldn't get enough. He was hitting all the right spots, and you were losing control.

"As you wish." He growled and started thrusting even harder and faster. His grip on your hips was tight, and he was practically slamming into you, hitting your g-spot perfectly.

"Yes. Yes, fuck, Bucky. Please don't stop. Fuck," you moaned, the pleasure was almost too much.

He kept thrusting, his cock filling you completely. "You feel so fucking good. I love the way your pussy squeezes my cock."

"Oh, god. Bucky. Please. Don't stop. I'm so close. Please," you moaned, the pressure building inside of you.

He fucked you harder, his cock pounding into you. "Cum for me, baby. Cum for me, and I'll cum for you," he growled.

Your body tensed up as you reached your climax, your walls clenching around him and his thrusts became erratic. He came soon after, his seed spilling inside of you.

You rode out your orgasm together, his thrusts slowing, his breathing heavy. You felt amazing, your body tingling with pleasure. "I'm not done with you yet, baby. Not even close," he said, his voice seductive.

"Fuck. Me too." You were still in a daze from your orgasm, but you were far from satisfied.

He leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and sweet. He pulled out of you and rolled onto his side, his hands caressing your skin. "I think we're just getting started, Y/N."

You moaned, and he kissed you again, his tongue exploring your mouth.

"I could spend hours between your legs, making you cum over and over again," he said, his lips moving down your jawline.

He moved his hands up to your breasts, and squeezed them, his fingers rolling your nipples. You moaned, arching your back. He kissed down your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin. "Oh, God. I'm so fucking wet for you," you moaned, his lips sending shivers down your spine.

"Yeah, baby, that's it. Tell me how good it feels," he murmured, his lips moving across your skin.

He lightly played with your nipples, tweaking and pinching them. "Mmm, that feels so good, Bucky," you moaned.

"I'm not going to stop until you're a trembling mess," he said, his lips brushing against your ear.

You shivered and pulled him into another kiss, the intensity building inside of you. "What can I say? I’m an incredible lay," you moaned.

He smirked and moved one of his hands to your pussy, his fingers rubbing against your clit. You gasped and arched your back, the sensation was exquisite. "Mmm, yes you are incredible, sweetheart," he growled, his fingers moving faster.

He then pulled out to slapped your pussy, "Get on all fours. I want to fuck you from behind."

You quickly complied, getting onto your hands and knees. He positioned himself behind you, his cock teasing your entrance. He pushed into you, his cock filling you up. You moaned, the pleasure overwhelming.

He started moving in and out of you, his cock filling you up with every thrust. He was pounding into you, his cock filling you up. You were moaning, the pleasure overwhelming you.

He started thrusting in and out, his pace fast and relentless. He fucked you harder, his cock filling you completely. "Don't stop. Please. Don't stop," you moaned.

"I can never be satisfied," he growled, his hands slapping your ass.

He reached down and grabbed your hair, pulling it back. He leaned down and kissed your shoulder, his teeth nipping at your skin. You moaned, his movements sending pleasure through you. "Harder, Bucky," you begged, needing more.

He began to pound into you, his cock hitting the deepest parts of you. "Oh, fuck, Y/N," he growled, his hips snapping back and forth.

"God, Bucky, that's it," you cried, your body trembling.

He kept going, his grip on your hair tightening. You could feel another orgasm building inside of you. You cried out as the orgasm tore through you, your body shaking with pleasure. He rode out your orgasm, and soon Bucky was growling, his cock throbbing inside of you. "Oh, fuck, yes," he growled, his cock pulsing inside of you as he came.

He pulled out and collapsed next to you, his breathing ragged. You looked at him, seeing his chest rise and fall. You had never seen him look so beautiful. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. You were exhausted, but satisfied, the feel of his strong arms around you comforting.

He grinned, "I told you I could make you beg."

"Oh, please. That's not how it went," you said, sitting up. "You practically beg me to let you fuck me."

"That's not how I remember it,” the corners of his lips curling with amusement.

With a casual shrug, you maintained your playful demeanor. "Well, it's what happened."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Y/N," he replied, his hand sliding down to cup your ass.

You responded with a sassy retort, "Oh, believe me, Bucky, I'll be sleeping very well tonight."

"I hope so, because I have plenty more in store for you," he said, leaning over to kiss you.

"Well, you're not exactly terrible," you admitted, a mischievous twinkle in your eye as you teased him.

"Not exactly? Ouch." He feigned mock offense, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Oh, shut up."

"Make me," he said, his eyes filled with mischief.

With a smirk, you seized the opportunity, pulling him into a passionate kiss. He returned the kiss with fervor, his tongue exploring your mouth. You moaned softly as you felt his hands caressing your body, sending shivers down your spine.

You were breathless when he finally pulled away, "Now, that's more like it."

"Glad you approve," you replied, grinning.

You felt a rush of heat between your legs as he gazed at you, his blue eyes full of desire. "I'll always approve of you," he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

"Is that so?" You asked, biting your lip seductively.

"You bet," he replied, his eyes darkening as he leaned in to kiss you once more.

You surrendered to his touch, allowing him to take control. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and dip, sending waves of pleasure through you. He trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone, before moving back up to capture your lips in a heated kiss.

As his hands continued their exploration, he whispered, "I could kiss you all night."

"Is that so?" You breathed, your body trembling with desire.

"It is," he replied, his lips brushing against yours.

"You're really insatiable, aren't you?" You echoed the same words he used on you.

"For you? Yes," he grinned.

"You're the worst, Bucky," you sighed dramatically, a grin playing on your lips.

"And yet, here you are, enjoying every moment," he smirked, playfully pulling away from the kiss, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

"You're ridiculous," you laughed.

"That's what you love about me," he teased, pulling you even closer.

"I never said I love you," you retorted, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. "Actions speak louder than words, sweetheart."

"Oh, just shut up and kiss me already," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Yes, ma'am." He kissed you deeply, his hands roaming your body.

You gave yourself over to his touch, losing yourself in the pleasure. It was all you could do to hang on as he brought you to new heights, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body.

And it was the best loss you ever experienced.

**The End**

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel x reader

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