#i was also thinking about making the saliva gold but i did not wanted to use two colours at the end and there was no way forgoing the red

[a-s-levynn]

Following a bloodtrail, frothing at the maw A Series of Small Offerings - IV/4 - day36

[monstersflashlight]

To kill a king, to fuck a dragon (Day 8/8 of 10k followers event)

A/N: Hi there people! I’m so, so glad that all of you took time to read all the stories I post, especially these past 8 stories that had been super exploratory for me. I think I did good enough, at least y’all seemed to like it. For this last one I added a bit more plot than usual, this is a tiny bit longer and I think the story is really good. I hope y’all love it as much as I do. Also, and once again, I want to thank ALL OF YOU for following this little corner of the internet and being so supportive and great, special thanks to all my patrons to make my life a little bit easier <3, this has been a blast so far and I hop y’all keep reading, hopefully this account is just the beginning of a much longer exploration of monsterfuckery for us all. (PS: If someone catches the very subtle Grey’s anatomy reference please let me know so we can be friends)

Dragon x fem!reader || size kink, slow-burn (kinda), sex with feelings, magic saliva, spit on pussy, multiple orgasms, overstimulation || tw: mentions of murder

You enter the cave and are surprised to find a door, a normal human door caved into the rock. It looks like a house, a house on the rock, but still normal. What the fuck? Your hopes and dreams of finding the dragon slowly disappear, your eyes teary.

Someone chooses that moment to speak behind you: “Who are you?” You turn around so fast you fall to the ground with a scream. The stranger looks at you like you are a bug he needs to squeeze, and you feel a tear running down your cheek. Fuck. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry even if there wasn’t a dragon. “Again: who are you?” His tone is harsh and you want to cry even more, but you bit your tongue.

“I- I came to find the dragon,” you confess, swallowing around the knot in your throat.

He looks at you like you are a joke, not even trying to help you to your feet. “What dragon?” He asks, his tone amused.

You get up and look at him, trying to look as serious as you can when you say: “They- They told me there was a dragon here.” You fail.

He chuckles, inspecting you up and down, his eyes zeroing on the few tears that escaped your eyes. “No dragons, just me,” he finally answers, his tone a lot softer than before.

“Uh-oh… Sorry. I’ll be on my way, then.” You try to get pass him, sniffling as you do so, trying really hard to get out before you start sobbing.

He sighs, and adds: “do you want some tea?” He offers you his hand, and weirdly enough, you don’t feel threatened or scared, you feel calm around him.

“Really?” You don’t want to sound too hopeful but you are thirsty and tired and you want to cry because there is no dragon and you basically lost hope of everything.

“Yeah, come on.” He motions you to follow him inside the rock house, and you are surprised about how cozy and homey it feels inside, like out of a fairy-tale kind of thing.

He makes some tea as you lean against the door frame of the kitchen, trying to look around as much as possible without looking too snoopy about it. Not that he seems to care that you are curious about everything, he just looks at you every once in a while like making sure you are still there.

“Why were you looking for a dragon?” He asks when he sets the tea cup on the table in front of you. A similar one in front of him. You sit and start sipping on the best tea you’ve ever had.

You sip the tea for a couple seconds, trying to decide if you can trust him, at the end you decide why not, your life is already ruined. “To kill the king,” you say. He chokes on the tea he’s drinking, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop from giggling.

“What?” He asks again when he recovers, his face red from the coughing.

“To kill the king,” you repeat. He still looks stunned so you give him more context: “I- I was bought when I was in the womb. My parents promised me to him in exchange for gold, and the day we marry is approaching. I don’t want to do it, he’s a foul man, and I didn’t choose this. I overheard some servants talking about the dragon in the mountains, and I though… I thought they would help me.” You try not to sound too bitter about it, but you can’t keep the despair out of your voice.

He looks at you like you are suddenly the most interesting specimen of a bug. “You escaped the castle and came here?”

“Yes,” you answer truthfully. There was a lot more implied in that simple question. You escaped, but not only that, they are probably looking for you and the king would probably kill those guards you ran away from. You try not to be too sad about them, they were cruel with you, laughing at you every time you passed, talking about how the king got a new hot wife.

“Are they still looking for you?” He asks, a lot smarter than you give him credit for.

“Probably.” It’s the truth but it still carries a lot of pressure as you say it. You understand though, you know it’s not his problem and you shouldn’t even be there. You’d find another way to escape the king. “I’ll be out of your hair, I promise. You didn’t sing up for any of this.” You realize the sun is setting in the horizon and you don’t know if you could find your way back to the village. Fuck. “I need to go. The village is a long journey from here,” you try not to sound scared, but an edge of fear permeates your voice.

He surprises you by saying: “Stay. I have a guest bedroom and there’s no way you could get back to the village if it’s this dark.”

You want to say no, to refuse, that’s improper, but the idea of going back to that golden prison is enough to make you say: “I’ll leave first thing in the morning.” It’s a promise you do to him, but also to yourself. That man showed you more caress that anyone in your life, and you didn’t want to cause him unnecessary trouble. You’ll leave in the morning.

Problem is… You never do.

The next day he prepares breakfast, and insists on showing you around his house. It’s so beautiful you are mesmerized. His garden especially. It’s so colorful and big and calm…. You feel an instant connection to the earth, and to him. He’s so easy to be around, he treats you so differently like what you are used to. And you like it. You like it so much that you get distracted until the sun is setting once again. And he never tells you to leave.

And days pass. One day turns into another, and you… never leave. You know someday they will come back for you. You know you can’t run away from your problems. But right there, in the side of the mountain with that nice man that took you in… It feels possible to run away. It feels possible to avoid the awful destiny that was set for you before you were even born.

He teaches you to cook, to take care of plants, to polish wood… He’s like a handyman that can do all, and you are his new apprentice, even though he insists on doing all the heavy lifting. But on top of that, he just… amazing. He takes care of you, but also you two argue about stupid stuff until you are red faced and you want to hit him, just to end up laughing when he tells you a stupid joke. You have the most fun you had in ages with him.

Until one day all shifts (pun intended).

You are laying around under the tree as he does some gardening. He wouldn’t let you near the roses in case you got hurt. “I have something to tell you,” he breaks the silence.

“What?” You ask, looking directly at him, a spark of something unknown raising inside of you, like bugs in your stomach, crawling around every time you set your eyes on him, on his beautiful smile.

He looks at you intently and says the most ominous thing: “I- I think it’s better if I show you, actually.”

“Show me what? Why do you sound so serious?” You try to joke, but it doesn’t land because he still looks at you with a poker face.

He looks worried, apprehension settling on his features. “Just… Wait until I’m done to say anything, please?” His tone is more than pleading, is more like he’s begging you to understand, and you don’t know what could possibly be so bad.

“Okay…” You tell him, anxiety spiking.

And then he turns. Literally. His body contorts and cracks, and there’s a bunch of things happening at once, and before you realize, there’s a dragon in front of you. A full on real dragon. What? He’s majestic, as big as a house and skin covered in the most precious scales. He looks like a work of art… you are mesmerized.

“You said there was no dragon!” It’s the first thing out of your mouth, an edge of hysterics creeping in your tone.

You laugh then. You laugh so hard and so much you have tears rolling down your eyes. He changes back, and tries really hard to cover his manhood with his hands, failing and making you laugh even harder.

“You are a dragon,” you say when your laughter dies down.

“I am,” he says simply, approaching you slowly until he’s right in front of you. “And I will kill the king for you,” he adds.

There’s no point in asking why he didn’t tell you sooner, you understand why. Why would he? Why would he trust his deepest secret to you? But him showing you now? It meant more than the world, it made you forget about everything and anything chasing you down. It makes you happy. He makes you happy.

“No. I don’t care about the king. I just… I love you. I think what I feel is love, I never felt like this before.” You tell him, heat creeping up your cheeks. He looks at you like he’s surprised, like he wasn’t expecting that at all. “Do you feel it, too?” You ask shyly, your hand over his chest, feeling his heart beat faster and faster.

“Ye- yes. I love you, too.” His confession is followed by his hands cupping your face, so soft and tender, you feel a tear running down your cheek as he kisses you for the first time.

You should have known better than to think your life could be so perfect.

You don’t hear them before you are captured. At least four soldiers appear at the edge of the garden and catch you before you can scream. You think about him, about your dragon, and lament how confused he will be when he returns and you aren’t there. You worry he would think you abandoned him… But you can’t do anything as they take you away from the only place you felt like home.

They don’t even wait a whole day before they are dressing you and pampering you in the best silks and makeups. Nobody says anything as you silently cry during all the process. The servants looking worried but not arguing with anyone, three guards at the door of every chamber you enter.

You are caged once again.

You walk to the aisle in between a crowded place full of people who don’t like you, nor the king for the matter. They just want to appraise his old self to gain some benefits, the same as your parents did even before you were born. He looks like a nightmare standing in front of the altar, and you want to run, to run far away, back into your dragon’s arms. But you can’t, guards all around the open garden the ceremony is taking place in. You stand before your soon to be husband and have to swallow back the tears and bile, his rancid smell hitting you like a brick.

The minister starts speaking about love and marriage, and you cry during all his speech. You dream of being far away from there, as far away as possible. Or at least as close to your dragon as you could.

When you hear the people mumbling around you, you turn around, a shadow obscuring the sun. You look at the sky and sigh, so happy to see him you could cry. Maybe you would cry if you weren’t so shocked that he actually showed up.

He roars as he lands, people running in all directions, hiding in every possible place. “YOU STOLE FROM ME!” He growls, breathing fire to the sky and making people cry out in fear. You look at him in all his glory, fascinated by every inch of his skin.

“We- we saved the queen to be,” the guard’s words are short lived as your dragon looks at him and breathes fire right over his body, instantly burning him to the ground. There’s a chorus of screams and cries again, and you have to bite your tongue to stop from smiling.

“She’s not yours! SHE’S MINE!” You shiver at his words, feeling them so deep inside you think you might combust, butterflies dancing inside your stomach once again.

“You can’t take her! I bought her,” the king’s words don’t help his case at all, your dragon roaring and launching for him.

It all happens so fast, one second he’s there, and the next one the king’s head is rolling onto the ground as everyone screams and runs away. You are shocked to the core, but he doesn’t let you wallow in that. He picks you up and takes flight. You realize he’s being very careful not to pickle you with his claws. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but soon enough you are in a place you know, a place that brings you memories of joy and love… The garden.

As soon as he sets you down, he orders you to: “Go inside.” His tone is harsh, almost a growl.

“No,” you answer, not recoiling, not moving. You approach him more, your hand softly caressing the scales of his chest.

He roars over your head, trying to scare you away: “Go inside, I’m not in my right mind right now, I can’t answer for my actions.” You aren’t scared of him, though. He saved you from your most fearsome nightmare, he’s just the big monster you are in love with.

“No,” you repeat, a big smile playing on your lips when you look up at him.

“Come on, princess… Please.” Him begging in that form does something to you, such a big and scary creature asking you to go inside so he can protect you from himself… You are more sure than anything that you are safe. Safer than you’d be with anyone else. Human or monster.

“No. I want you. I love you.” Your words finally go through him, making his big body shiver, you feel it under your hands, a big shake that leaves you breathless. “Take me, my dragon.” You know adding that isn’t necessary, but you are more than ready to be a bride, to be his bride.

“Don’t joke around,” he growls, grabbing your body with his big clawed hand and positioning you to look straight into his yes, his big dragon head so beautiful you have to reach out and touch him. He scrunches his nose, making you giggle.

“Make me fully yours,” you say again.

His responding growl is so loud it makes the earth vibrate under your feet. You shiver in anticipation. He tears your wedding dress of your body, wrapping his wings around you to create a bubble, so you won’t feel a single spark of cold in your human skin.

Your wedding dress is torn off your body as he launches for your body, your naked form shivering at the cold temperature around you, but he solves that easily. He wraps his wings around your body getting you close to his much warmer scaled body. You sigh happily.

He lets you down onto the ground and you look up at him, completely vulnerable. “Fuck me. Claim me. Love me.” You lower yourself to the ground, your upper body to the ground, your ass up. You know what you must look like: an offering, a sacrifice. And you are okay with that. You are okay being his.

“You sure?” He asks again, always the gentleman, always worried about you. You are more sure of this that you were about anything else ever.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chant as his claw proves your entrance. You look around in time to see him biting on his fingers, two seconds later he’s claw-less and his now not-dangerous fingers enter you. You cry out and bury your face on the mossy ground, his chuckle making you flush all over.

He plays with your pussy for what feels like an eternity, making you come twice before he starts stretching you fully. He gets to three fingers, way bigger than anything you tried before, and you can’t stop moaning.

You come again as he spits on your pussy, the sensation so filthy and so good you scream and fall over the edge again. You feel tingly all over after that, your pussy relenting under his ministrations and somehow widening further, accommodating one more of his fingers. “My saliva has magic in it,” he explains, his tone amused as he keeps finger fucking you. You don’t know if you can come again, you didn’t even know that much pleasure was possible.

“Come on, come on, please,” doesn’t matter how much you beg, he doesn’t relent.

He starts scissoring his big fingers inside of you, stretching you impossibly wide, and you squirm under him, a pleasure so big you don’t know how to deal with it, your body pliant under his actions, your brain completely void of thoughts. And then he stops and you curse him so loud he starts to laugh, moving your body and making you squirm under him. He grabs your hips to stop you from moving and you feel the tip of his cock against your entrance.

He enters you slowly, so slowly. You want to scream, but your brain is frozen with the over-sensitivity of his dick inside of you. He can’t fit inside, there’s no way, he’s probably just aiming for a third of his length, but right now, with just the tip inside, you feel like you are about to burst. You reach down and rub your clit, unlocking something inside of you and crying out so loudly he roars as your orgasm makes your pussy constrict around him. He pushes in a bit more, and you keep coming.

From that point on, it’s all a blur of sensations and emotions, so much pleasure you are blind to the world around you. His dick is barely inside, but it seems to be enough for him, and more than enough for you. You feel like he’s going to split you in two in the most amazing way. He feels so big inside of you that you think you might die if he keeps rubbing against all your special spots at once. And if you do… You’d die happy.

“Take me. Take all of me,” that’s all the heads up you get before he’s filling you, one last thrust inside before his hot seed floods your insides. It propels you over the edge one last time, the world fading into blackness.

You pass out.

When you come back to your senses, you are laying on a bed and there’s a warm body behind you. You sigh happily as he kisses your forehead and makes sure you are comfortable and warm. You feel such intense love for him in that moment, that you have to turn around and try how well it would feel to fit his human dick inside of you (this time all of him).

He feels perfect.

[biteofcherry]

Sweet Thrill  - part 2

Sweet thrill

mafia!Ari Levinson x female reader; mob boss Ari Levinson x female reader

summary: Many would consider your job as a dancer at Lloyd Hansen’s exclusive night club to be exciting or scary, but honestly you see it as predictable and stable. It’s mostly a routine. That’s until Ari Levinson enters the club. You draw his attention and he installs himself in your space, bringing fear and thrill along with him.

warnings for this part: pet play; Master/pet play; fear kink; bdsm undertones; power imbalance; dominant Ari Levinson; fingering; oral; sex; light anal play; pet names; collaring; subtle degradation and humiliation (nothing hardcore); light dumbification

word count: 6k

Main Masterlist

Ari Levinson Masterlist

Sweet Thrill series:  | Part One |

It shouldn’t surprise you that Ari became bolder, since he laid a claim on you. A claim to which you agreed, accepting his collar and first simple rules he declared. Still, as you swayed upside down between silk curtains, ending your private dance for him on a late Friday evening, your heart jumped up when Ari moved from his spot on the velvet couch and approached you.

He stood right there at the edge of the platform, his shadow looming over your vulnerable, displayed body. He traced his fingers along the shimmering gold of the collar around your neck then up and along your jaw.

“Open, Kitten,” Ari tapped your lips with a single finger.

You swallowed nervously, but complied. Your lips parted and you made a conscious effort to force yourself to open your mouth wider, knowing that’s what he wanted. 

A single digit drew around your mouth then slid inside. You weren’t sure if you’re supposed to just let him explore, or if you should suck on his finger.

Ari’s low chuckle made you look up at his face, your brows furrowing. He touched your head with his other hand, a sort of a patronizing pat.

“I don’t need you making up decisions on what to do.” He said, dipping his finger back and forth over your tongue. “I asked you to open your mouth and you did it beautifully, pet. No need for you to be thinking about anything besides my commands.”

A second finger joined in, filling your mouth and spurting more saliva to pool in. The hand on top of your head brushed slow, soft strokes along your tied hair. 

“If I want you to suck it, I’ll tell you to do so.” Ari instructed, lips curved in a smirk. “Until I demand it, you don’t need to be thinking of what to do. Don’t need to be thinking at all.”

Once again with his implications about having your brain turned off. When you thought of it in the safety of your apartment, far from the dark, irresistible seduction of his, you felt annoyed with it. 

After all, you grind your ass between sheets of silk to be able to get a degree, to be able to support yourself through university where you actively participated in seminars and discussions. Where your brain was appreciated. 

Though it is nice to stop thinking once in a while, a voice in your head delighted. 

Ari withdrew his fingers and crooked them, pointing at you to straighten and get off the platform. His hand was steady below your forearm, assisting you as you jumped down. 

Again, his blue eyes sparked with satisfaction as he took in the bejeweled mark of his claim - the collar and adorning chains wrapped around your body. He’ll love it even more once there’s not a scrap of lace covering your body and it’s only your exquisite skin on display for him. 

“I’ve got a meeting to attend.” Ari reminded you, running his hands up and down your bare arms. “Wait for me in the dressing room.”

“I’ve arranged for strawberries and champagne to be delivered there for you, I hope other dancers will leave some of it for you to taste.” He laughed quietly.

It was a new kind of feeling that Ari’s gesture evoked. An almost romantic type of spoiling, which no other patron ever did for you. The fact he also knew other girls may nibble on the snacks and didn’t mind it, made you soften for him some more. 

For a brief moment it gave you reprieve from exhilarating thoughts about going home with Ari tonight.   

Outside the private VIP room two of Ari’s bodyguards waited. One went with Ari who left for the meeting in Lloyd’s private offices (after squeezing your ass possessively). The other trailed behind you as you walked to the dressing rooms. 

That was new. Unexpected. Made you feel a little caged in. 

But you wouldn’t make a fuss about it for now. Especially since the man stood outside of the dressing room once you got there, not trying to squeeze inside into private space that belonged to the other dancers as much as it belonged to you. 

Like Ari had predicted, a few of your friends were already munching on strawberries. There was a whole bowl of them and a few smaller bowls filled with whipped cream. 

“I knew your silk aerial will benefit us all someday.” Violet grinned, tilting her glass of champagne your way in a salute. 

Laughing, you joined the girls and accepted a flute of champagne with a curtsy. 

Some of them saw the new jewelry adorning your neck earlier, but a few noticed it only now. You tried to shrug it off nonchalantly, saying it’s Mr Levinson’s eccentricity and you don’t mind wearing it for him.  

You didn’t reveal that you tried it on at home, when you were alone, looking at yourself in the mirror and feeling all sorts of thrilled. 

Though he wasn’t there, the moment you put the collar on it felt as if Ari’s hand wrapped around your neck. You stared at your reflection, shivering at the thought of what else he’d do to you. 

You donned on a pair of jeans and a soft, baby blue cardigan with tiny buttons. Since you were to spend more time with Ari, you didn’t take the collar off.

You had a feeling he wouldn’t like it. 

He definitely wouldn’t, considering he mentioned he wants to teach you to wear it daily. 

When an hour and a half later a knock came on the door and it opened, revealing Ari Levinson standing there with hands on his hips flanked by two of his men, your heart jumped to your throat. Then settled back in your chest, fluttering wildly.

It was time. 

The look in Ari’s eyes and the pinch of his intensity you got to experience so far, spoke of a weekend of sensations new and scary. And the most shattering. 

You picked up your bag - stacked with necessities like a change of underwear and a clean t-shirt, as well a moisturizer and body cream. You didn’t mind using whatever generic, 32in1 body wash Ari had, but your skin was so sensitive it would crack and rash, if you didn’t moisturize it properly.  

Shadows fell across Ari’s face, sharpening his features and adding depth to his already lethal vibe. His blue eyes held unyielding ruthlessness - perhaps a darkness remaining from the meeting he just had, or maybe a drop of hardness he’ll subject you to as well. 

You wondered, if a man like Ari carried demons he unleashed on his enemies over to the plush coziness of the bedroom. 

Would he conquer you with the same unbending will?

Ari took the bag from your hand and trapped your fingers within his hold. A surprisingly warm, though possessive gesture. Flanked by two bodyguards, you left the club. A sleek, black car awaited right at the front.

He went in after you, pushing you to the far side of the backseats and cornering you against the side door. Your eyes grew big, your pulse quickening. 

Ari held you trapped beneath his huge form, eyes glinting danger and mischief. He made no other move, however. Only watched your breath turn raspy, puffing through your parted lips, a vein in your neck pulsing. 

“Ah, already so many thoughts.” Ari chuckled, shaking his head. 

He kissed your forehead then backed away. He sat down properly and smiled at you all charmingly as the car drove away.

You stared at him, your heart hammering and your brain whirring up with even more thoughts. Not terrified, but stirred and shaking in anticipation of what his next move may be. 

You gulped nervously when you arrived at his place and you stepped out of the car - Ari waiting for you by the door, his hand stretched out for you to take. It was a huge mansion, partly modern, partly classic stone. Dark wood interior softened by all the light. It had to look even prettier in the day, with sunlight spilling through the huge windows. 

“Are you hungry, Kitten?” Ari’s hand moved up your back, resting on your nape.

Its heavy warmth brought an unexpected sense of security, even though you knew it was a reflection of his instrumental possessiveness.

“No, thank you.” You replied, your voice weaker than you wanted it to sound.

You were no longer in the safety of the club, no longer in the surroundings which you knew and felt more or less comfortable at. It was a lion’s den and the door just closed behind you, trapping you with a big predator inside. 

“Okay then.” He smiled at you, sincerity transforming into sinister satisfaction.

Fingers around the back of your neck tightened slightly. 

You realized your mistake then. Ari gave you a chance to sink into the situation slowly, entertain you with some small talk over some food to help you relax, even though both of you knew where this was all going anyway. 

Skipping that step meant you straight away offered yourself on a silver platter to his entertainment. 

It was something you battled with yourself over the few days of reprieve you had. You weren’t naive, you expected sex to happen. Why else would Ari take you for a whole weekend? Still, you wanted to know the boundaries. 

If Ari allowed any. 

Licking your lips, you gathered the courage to look up at him. At the man who had half the coast under his thumb and whose offers no one dared to refuse.  

“What if I say no?” You asked, trying to maintain confidence, but not challenging him. 

“To the, uh-” heat unfurled in your belly even as you spit out the words- “pet play.” 

Ari merely cocked his head to the side, his hold on your neck not relenting, but also not tightening. Crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes at your shy stumble with the word.  

“What if I say no to any sex?” Which would be a lie. You knew it that evening when he put his hands on you and made you come on his fingers alone, that you wanted more. 

But you had to ask nonetheless. To know for sure how screwed you were, how carefully you needed to trade with him.

Ari Levinson wasn’t a client whose offer extended to extra payment for a one time sex. He was a feared mobster, who didn’t take lightly to messing with his plans. His interest in you meant being tied with an unspoken agreement on belonging to him, fully, for whatever time he wished, and abiding to his rules. 

“Then you say no.” Ari said easily, as if it was the simplest truth.

Just like that. No longer pause to consider your words, or to wage on his reply.  

“And you’ll respect that?” You blurted, truly surprised.

Ari’s eyes narrowed, as if he warned you to not accuse him of something he didn’t attempt to do. He may not take No for an answer when it came to his empire of power and influence, but sex was never something he had to force anyone into. 

That wasn’t a spice he liked to add to his sex life. 

“Of course.” He assured you, his tone lowering into a velvety dark timbre.

Ari’s hand circled to the front of your neck, fingers squeezing lightly as he pushed you two steps back. 

Your back met a wall, a tiny whimper escaping your mouth. 

He towered over you, catching one of your wrists in his other hand and holding it above your head like in a shackle. He lowered his head, hot breath tickling your skin as his lips moved across your cheek.

“But, will you really say no to having my fingers in your tight pussy again?” Ari asked, voice tinted with dark amusement. “Making her weep for me and flutter?”  

“Will you say no to my mouth on you, licking and sucking and drinking up your honey?” He flicked his tongue against your lip. 

“Will you say no to my cock splitting your little cunt? Driving into you to the root, until you cream all over me and milk me dry?” 

His words made your thighs clench, a jolt of arousal piercing straight to your clit. You let out an involuntary, breathless moan.  

“Mhmm, thought so.” Ari chuckled triumphantly.  

“As for the pet play.” His gaze caught yours. Thumb on your neck slipped beneath the collar, rubbing over your wicked pulse. “I know you’re curious, Kitten.”

“Bet your sweet head kept thinking and imagining what it would be like. Did you browse the web? Did you get your pretty head to overthink about it?” He was sure you did exactly that.

He knew you spent time, hours maybe, looking up pet play on the internet; getting yourself turned on and scared of the images you saw. Of collars and leashes and cages; tails attached through harnesses or plugs; people on their hands and knees; big teary eyes looking up from bowls they were forced to drink from. 

He felt sick satisfaction at the thought of you being frightened of how hardcore he’ll push the pet play for you. 

Truthfully, he wouldn’t go to extremes. Ari preferred the playful, controlling side of it only. But he enjoyed your reactions to the thrill of having such limits crossed. 

“There’s only one way to find out how it feels to be a good little pet for me.” Ari murmured, teasing your lips with the brush of his own.

Then he pulled back, released your wrist and your neck.

“But, it’s all up to you.” He said, tilting his chin up and simply waiting for your reaction.

It was manipulative, you were aware of that. You could walk away just to prove a point, but it wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted to stay, to have Ari’s hands on you, to see what more he’d do. To get that, however, you had to admit that you needed it. 

Saying it’s your desire presented Ari as a man who simply catered to the lady’s wishes. Even if he was the serpent that tempted you to look at the forbidden fruit and crave its taste. 

Slowly, you took a tentative step towards Ari. Maiming your bottom lip between your teeth, you looked nervously around before gathering the courage to look him in the eye. 

“I want it.” You confessed, only slightly embarrassed. 

He smiled at you, his eyes warming. He cupped the side of your face in his big hand.

“That’s my brave Kitten.” Lightness and warmth bloomed in your chest at Ari’s praise. 

His hand slid down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His fingers circled your wrist and he gave a gentle tug, pulling you along with him. Ari led you further into the house and into the master bedroom hidden behind double doors. 

He dropped your bag in the corner and pushed you forward, stopping inches from the big bed placed in the center of the room. 

“Let’s undress you, Kitten.” Tender warmth still remained in Ari’s eyes and the way his lips were curved, but as he started unbuttoning your cardigan it melted into rich, dark desire. 

With each revealed fragment of your skin, especially once the golden chains of your collar were fully visible, Ari’s eyes darkened. 

He wanted you and knowing it made you all the more hot. More eager to please him. 

He folded your sweater neatly and put it aside. Waited for you to shimmy out of your jeans, which he too folded. 

Fingertips trailed over your body as Ari leaned down to kiss you. A deep, thorough kiss that captured all your attention. He got you so hooked on his mouth you didn’t even notice him unclasping your bra. Until he pulled away and slid it off your body. 

Ari’s hot breath ghosted over your body, causing you to quiver, as he crouched down and dragged your panties down your legs. He stayed on his knees a moment longer, gaze on your mound and breath tickling the trimmed thatch of hair.

Panties clutched in his hand, Ari licked a wide stripe from the spot right above your clit up to your belly button. Your belly muscles tensed, lips parting on a loud gasp. 

Ari stretched to his full height, huge frame nearly swallowing yours. For a long moment he just looked you over. Piercing, intense gaze sliding over every inch of your body. He wasn’t even touching you at the moment and yet your nipples hardened into stiff points. 

Ari dipped one of his hands into his pocket. When he withdrew it, there was a bundle of something shiny within his palm. He brought his hand up to your face, so you could see it as he opened his palm.

A heavy drop of gold swished down. It took you a moment to realize it was a chain. 

Thicker than delicate fragments of your collar, but similar in pattern it was weaved. A braid of gold that had a link on one end and a looped leather strap on the other. 

It confused you at first. Until Ari took the link between his fingers and clipped it on the diamond ring in your collar. Then it became apparent.

It caused you to hold your breath in.

A leash. 

Judging by the construction of it and your collar, it was a matching set. 

Ari had it all planned out. Every single detail. It made you wonder if there were other items to this fancy pet gear. What other bonds, or devices he could put on you. In you. 

It evoked a hot wave, stretching out to the very tips of your fingers. A mere thought of having something more done to your body made you choke on a really pitiful sound. 

“I see that you like it.” Ari’s eyes glinted with satisfaction. 

He wrapped the leather loop around his hand and tugged on the leash, pulling you closer.

“Get on the bed, Kitten. On your back, please.”

You hesitated only a second then climbed the bed as gracefully as you could. The leash dragged between your legs as you crawled forward and you had to tug it so as to not lay on it when you laid down on your back. 

Soft covers and springy mattress dipped beneath you, a wide spread of shadows danced in the dimmed light across the ceiling above you.  

There you were, naked on Ari Levinson’s bed, wearing his collar and a leash. It was so hard not to tense like a strained cord, awaiting what next that man would do, but you tried your best to relax. 

Ari’s hands slid up your legs, drawing your attention. Your gaze snapped to him, watching as he gripped your legs under your knees and pushed them apart. 

“Play with yourself, Kitten.” His voice remained soft, but you understood it was a command.

Fingers slightly trembling, you placed one of your hands on your breast and slid the other one down your belly. It was humiliating how wet you already were; and he hasn’t even touched you properly yet. 

The game he played with your mind, however, was turning all the right switches for you.

You rubbed your nipple, treating yourself gently, though in your head you imagined Ari pinching it, making you mewl. Fingers between your folds traded slowly, avoiding direct contact with your clit as you feared of making ungodly sounds for him so soon.

All the while you watched Ari, your eyes following his every move, hungry for his attention.

He started unbuttoning his shirt, not rushing as he did so. He draped it over the back of an armchair then sat down in it and began unlacing his shoes. 

His attention wasn’t even fully on you. He wasn’t devouring you as you obeyed his command to  touch yourself. Ari was simply going about his undressing as if he just got back from work and was going through routine motions.

As if you were merely a house cat stretched on the Master’s bed. 

Like you were a pet. 

Oh my fucking God, realization struck you. Instead of a flash of outrage, you felt yourself melting, your body writhing to draw Ari’s focus as you played with your pussy.

You circled your clit, knowing well the zing of sensation will make you moan and arch. Your hips bucked, head pushing back into the pillows. You slipped your fingers lower.

“No, Kitten.” Ari’s voice was a calm reprimand, stopping you right as you were about to push a finger inside your aching cunt. 

Barefoot, his shoes neatly arranged under the armchair, Ari stood up. Still, he wasn’t looking directly at you. And yet it seemed he was aware of everything you were doing. 

“You’re not stretching yourself on anything that doesn’t come from me.” He declared, unbuckling his wristwatch and placing it in a top drawer of his closet. 

“But you can give yourself a pat from me.” He turned around and slowly started unzipping his pants.

“Come on, pat your sweet clit.” This time his eyes were on you and their intensity made your cunt clench around nothing. 

Your thighs shook as you tried your damndest not to close them. Breath quickening, you bit your lip and lifted your hand a few inches above your mound. You dropped it down with a little squeak. 

“Harder, Kitten.” Ari’s eyes narrowed. “Or I’ll do it for you.” 

“Fuck.” A needy sound slipped from your mouth, causing Ari to smirk. 

For a moment you forgot what you were about to do, as your eyes glued to the glorious cock that bobbed up when Ari pushed his pants past his hips. Slightly curved and with girth surpassing any of your toys. The crown of it an angry red, shiny with precum.

Your hand dropped atop your pussy, wet smack resounding along your loud moan. The sting of it made you squirm, your thighs involuntarily closing around your hand. It was nothing to how sore his cock would make you feel, you suspected. 

“Good girl.” Ari’s praise washed over you, made you crane your neck and wiggle your butt. 

He approached you in steady steps, one hand around his cock, stroking lazily. 

He stopped at the foot of the bed. Fingers still wrapped around his girth, Ari reached his other hand forward and grabbed the end of your leash. 

“Up, Kitten. On your hands and knees for me.” He rolled the leash around his hand as you crawled forward, until he had you on a short chain, your mouth so close to his leaking tip. 

“I want your sweet mouth on me.” Ari tugged on the leash, bumping his cock against your lips.

Precum smeared on your lips and you flicked your tongue out, licking it off, teasing his tip in the process as well. You looked up at Ari, unexpected playfulness making you tilt your chin defiantly.

“Cats like to scratch and bite, you know.” You mused aloud, tipping your face forward and rubbing your cheek along Ari’s cock. 

“Try doing that. See what happens.” Ari lifted a brow, challenge a dark gleam in his eyes. 

You weren’t really planning on doing anything remotely close to that. At least not for now, when everything was still so new and unknown. Perhaps later, if Ari kept your arrangement going for longer, you’d become secure and bold enough to really tease him.

See what happens to bad kittens. 

For now you wanted to be good for Ari. You hoped he’d be good to you too, even if he planned to do some bad things to you. 

You dropped your gaze, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks. You took a breath in and slowly stretched your lips around Ari’s cock. You wiggled your tongue against the underside of him, feeling a faint pulse throb in a vein that curved there. 

Hollowing your cheeks, you bobbed your head, taking more of him each time. Taking him whole was impossible, so you paused a few times to lick his length and his sack to compensate for that. 

When you swallowed his cock again, resuming your previous rhythm, Ari pulled on the leash. Harshly. 

It forced you to move forward, more of his dick filling your mouth and poking at the back of your throat. You choked around him, saliva pooling by the corners of your mouth. You lifted your teary eyes up at Ari, panicking and silently begging. 

Ari held your gaze, unwavering, just like he held the leash in a steady grip. 

You made a pitiful sound, your throat constricting and more drool bubbling around your mouth and his cock. 

He released you when a tear pearled on your lashes. You coughed as his cock slipped out of your mouth, that single tear dropping down. Ari cupped your chin in his hand, wiping the drool smeared on it with his thumb. 

“We’ll train you in time, pretty pet.” He said, eyes crinkling in silent laugh at your scrunched nose.  

“Back on your back with you.” Ari pushed your shoulders and climbed onto the bed after you. 

Eyes widening in thrill, you scooted backwards until Ari’s fingers wrapped around your ankle. You stayed propped on your hands, chest rising in ragged breath as you watched Ari clamp his other hand on your other ankle. 

He pushed your legs wide apart then laid down between them, his eyes holding your gaze as he lowered his head. With a curse you dropped onto your back, hands clenching the sheets. 

Ari’s mouth on you was as torturously slow as each of his moves so far, but equally strong as the whole of him. His tongue swept widely between your folds, lips closing around your clit and sucking so hard you nearly jumped off the bed. 

You chanted Ari’s name until it transformed into one, long cry as you spasmed, your thighs shaking. 

He didn’t relent, switching from sucking to licking and mouthing at your sopping cunt. A pressure of a single digit slowly forcing its way inside of you made you groan and arch. 

Fuck, but Ari’s one finger felt the size of two of yours. It was longer, too. More coarse and brutal, even though he kept stretching you slowly, tongue lapping over your clit. 

You almost cried Can’t when he thrust a second finger in, but you remembered what happened the last time. Ari did fit a second finger in, despite your protests, and ordered you to stop thinking. Just to feel. 

So you did so now, as well. 

One of your hands let go of the sheets, instead fisting a handful of Ari’s hair. He didn’t seem to mind. He hoisted your leg over his shoulder, quickening the pace of his fingers as he locked his mouth around your clit again. 

Your climax buzzed in your head with white noise, your breathing turned hard and you sputtered little moans as Ari prolonged your rush. 

When he withdrew his fingers an embarrassingly wet squelch followed. You were too lost in the humming in your head to pay it much attention. 

“All fucked out already?” Ari chuckled, patting your cheek with his slick fingers.

“Mhm, pretty much.” Your laugh was breathless and your eyes glazed over as you looked up at him. 

“You’re able to talk, so not yet.” Ari’s eyes were even darker than before, a stormy blue that heralded destruction. 

He slapped your cheek harder, then squished both of your cheeks with his one, big hand, making your lips pucker and your eyes widen in shock. 

“I want you completely out of your head, Kitten.” He growled. “Dumb and drooling, that’s how I want my pet to be.” 

Still holding your face squeezed, Ari kissed your pouty lips. He bit your bottom lip before releasing you. 

Next thing you knew, he was rolling you onto your stomach and pulling your hips up. You obediently followed, getting up on your hands and knees. Ari nudged your knees wider apart. 

He ran his knuckles along your slick folds, turned his palm up and slapped your aching pussy.

You squeaked, body instinctively jolting forward, but Ari’s hands gripped your hips. Your flesh spilling between his fingers that held you so tightly you were sure to sport some bruises later. He let you go only for a moment, short enough to line his cock with your entrance. 

Then he was pushing in. A loud, lewd moan spilled from your lips, your eyes clenching shut and hands fisting the covers.

Ari was big. His cock forced your cunt to stretch wider than it was used to. A merciless stroke that had you aching. It also made you wetter; caused your nipples to stiffen without direct stimulation.

Your arms gave out when he bottomed out - it felt as if he pushed straight into your belly and the ache of it made you fall forward. 

One of Ari’s hands yanked on your hair, forcing your head up as he pulled back and slammed right back in.

“You’re doing so good for me, Kitten.” Ari’s voice sounded raspier, as if the feeling of you stole his own breath. “Taking all of me into your tight, sweet pussy.”

You shuddered at the praise, your walls fluttering around him.

“Ah, you liked that.” You couldn’t see Ari’s satisfied grin, but you heard it in his voice. Like a shark that smelled blood of a victim.

“You like being praised, Kitten? Like being told you’re being a good pet for your Master?” 

“I-I like it.” You gasped, hips pushing back against Ari’s merciless pace. 

“Say it then.” He yanked on your hair again, snapping his hips into you roughly. 

“I like being a good pet for you.” If it wasn’t for Ari’s grip keeping your head high, you’d hide your face in the pillows.

A smack on your ass made you cry out, your pussy clenching around Ari’s dick.

He draped himself over you, lips brushing your ear, though he didn’t even falter in the way his hips rocked into you. 

“No I, Kitten.” Ari’s voice poured pure darkness over you, locking you in a velvet cage of scary yet overwhelming sensation. “You’re a pet. My kitten. Say it properly. Say it for your Master.”

Your mouth opened, though for a moment you were unable to utter anything. Your brain tried to fight the humiliation of what was asked of you, at the same time your body melted in delight at the power Ari had over you. 

His cock was driving deep into you, his collar marked your neck, a single touch of his ignited your body into inferno. He had all the power. And you wanted nothing more at that moment than to be for him what he demanded.

You were his pet.

“Kitten likes being good for her Master.” You whined the words out, feeling the slightly degrading admission push you closer to the edge. 

It also made your brain switch off. 

“Good girl.” Ari licked your earlobe then pulled back.

He let go of your hair, grabbing your hips in an iron grip and slamming into you even rougher. You fell forward, arms flat on the mattress and face buried in a pillow. You only turned your head to the side enough to be able to breathe as your body jolted with each snap of Ari’s hips. 

You shattered, crying out; teeth biting into the pillowcase. 

Ari gave you no reprieve. When the clenching of your soft walls eased, he sneaked a hand between your thighs, fingers finding your swollen clit. 

Your mouth opened on a moan that turned into a wet cry as he tormented you into another orgasm. Sounds you were making as your body bounced to his rhythm were incoherent, occasionally taking the shape of Ari’s name. 

Not even a thought of protest ignited in your mind, you were only set on feeling. A receptive to sensations and Ari’s pleasure, nothing else. 

Drool soaked the pillow where your mouth laid open; your fingers splayed weakly, no longer able to even clutch at the covers. 

“That’s it.” Ari growled, his pleasure peaking at the sight of you mindless and lax beneath him. “Pretty, dumb pet serving her Master.” 

He dipped his fingers deeper between your folds, coating his digits in your slick. 

“You’re gonna give me more, Kitten.” He placed one of his hands close to your nape, pressing you down into the mattress and holding you in place. 

Then the fingers slicked with your juices slid between your buttocks. A single finger probed at your rim. You gurgled a moan, your body tensing beneath Ari, but unable to move away from his onslaught. He muttered obscenities about you taking all of it like a good pet should.

Ari pushed a single finger in, humming in delight at your loud whine. He got it in to the second knuckle when you clenched in a soundless orgasm, eyes shiny and blank, breath lost in your chest.

“Fuck, Kitten.” He groaned, hips stuttering as your walls milked his cock with a crushing force. 

A few sharp, deep thrusts and he came with a roar, cock twitching and filling you with hot cum. The feeling of it spilling made you moan. 

Soft whispers were murmured against your back, Ari’s lips gently kissing your shoulders as he spoiled you with praises that didn’t even fully reach your mind that was overloaded with sensations. 

He stretched your body on the covers, after pulling out; left you for a moment only to return with a warm, wet cloth with which he cleaned you up. He rolled you onto your back and unclipped the leash. Bent down his head to kiss you on the lips, sweetly and with reverence. 

You were slowly regaining your consciousness as Ari laid beside you, pulling your body close. He draped a fresh-smelling blanket over your bodies, pulling it up nearly to your nose and securing you whole in a soft, safe cocoon.     

A ruthless mobster wouldn't show such care, perhaps not even for a casual sex partner. However, a mindful Master would show it for his pet. 

You curled at Ari's side, clasped hands beneath your chin as you rested your cheek on his broad chest. Ari's fingers brushed tender strokes along your back, his other hand squeezing your buttock. 

"Do you run warm or cold?" His voice sounded soft and relaxed, almost purring like a big lazy cat. 

"I'm quite warm now, thank you." You sighed contentedly. 

Ari chuckled, his chest shaking slightly under your cheek. 

"No, Kitten. I mean if you get cold easily." He explained. "I've set the heating in the house higher to make sure you'd be comfortable, but if it's needed I'll change it. The floor is heated too, though I expect my pet to mostly rest on soft surfaces."

Your eyebrows drew into a frown. What he spoke of was very thoughtful, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that there was another meaning to this. 

"When in my house, you're going to stay naked, Kitten."

Heat burst in your chest, your shock coming out in a sputter that came out of your mouth. Your head rose, eyes looking at Ari warily. 

"We're alone here, pet. Unless I have guests over, in which case you'll dress accordingly, you can prance around naked. Nothing beside the collar, or other kitty traits which we'll discuss later." 

"Not even underwear?" You gulped. 

You surprised yourself with a lack of defense against his decree, only considering negotiating its details.

"Why would I want anything getting in the way, if I felt like petting my pet?" Ari's fingers dug deeper into the softness of your thigh. 

"We can negotiate very limited exceptions." He said, his tone holding unyielding strength. "Adjust my rules to when you're on your period, or when you're sick. But don't think, Kitten, that there won't be consequences for dismissing my orders." 

"I encourage you to be yourself and be playful, but scratch me too hard and I'll effectively clip your nails. Understood, Kitten?" 

It was a warning not only of a Master that's not lenient, but a mob boss who could burn your world to the ground. 

"Yes, Ari." You assured him, gaze dropping down submissively. 

"You please me, Kitten. There's no need to worry, I'll treat you well." He leaned toward you, sealing his promise with a kiss.

[alexanderlightweight]

Wednesday prompt :) what if the reason Valentine made Luke a wolf was that a wronged nephilim in a parabatai bond can declare the other an oathbreaker, to trigger divine judgement, and if the judgement finds fault with the other you get back your soul piece and the other is punished? What if Alec, faced with another entitled and selfish rant, just snaps and declares Jace an oathbreaker?

okay so I couldn't figure out a way that would work like you were wanting but i did really like the idea that traditionally, a ritual with the silent brothers as a conduit to raziel is the only one allowed to judge and break a parabatai bond

this is actually an au of all your cracks i'll paint gold. because my thought is that an alec who didn't have the faith or hope to wait to give jace till the very last minute (because until the first rune is taken, some part of alec still believes jace is coming). this alec knows he's about to be deruned and he wants to lose his parabatai bond on his own terms. because fuck if he's going to let the clave tear him from jace, he's going to ask raziel to judge them and whoever ends up taking the brunt, so be it. because only raziel can judge the bond between him and jace.

also a part of alec expects to be the one judged as an oathbreaker. he's really tangled up in his own thoughts at this point and he knows he's not thinking straight which makes him doubt himself.

alec wants answers and to fuck the clave by not letting them get their way.

also tbh, for parabatai, i think the loss of the bond itself, especially not knwing what is happening would feel like divine punishment itself. especially for two peple who are so devout to the bond.

i hope you still enjoy <3

lumine

-

Alec doesn’t know what to do, but there is only one thing left to try and Jace is going to lose him either way. This is the most selfish thing Alec’s ever done in his life and he almost doesn’t do it, until he thinks about how long he’s been sitting here, alone.

Jace isn’t coming. Alec knows that at this point. Wherever his parabatai is with Clary, it’s far beyond anywhere that Alec can reach him in time.

And Alec can’t stay sitting here, waiting to be deruned whenever Imogen gets bored of making him wait.

Treated like he isn’t a Commander and not even given the choice of someone as a witness of his own to keep watch.

“I demand the presence of a Silent Brother for an oath.” Alec rasps to the next shadowhunters who pass, and they wince, looking at him with concern but they shake their heads.

Imogen has scared them all with his imprisonment and Alec is paying the price. Alec is normally the backbone of his Institute, the shield between him and the clave and while they trust him to do that, Alec’s never been their official leader or had the chance to make these hunters completely his.

It’s with a snarl and the determination of spite in his heart — because what was the point of any of this? Of denying himself and Magnus even a moment of anything if this is the way things end — and Alec spits his blood and saliva onto the ground.

It’s grueling work.

Alec was already tired from patrol and the mess with Meliorn when they dragged him to a cell and pronounced him a traitor.  There’s been no soul sword and no trial. They want an example and they’re not afraid to use Alec as one.

Where once, Alec would have assumed he had the protection and privilege of the Lightwood name, he knows now that none of it is true. He’s protected himself and his siblings by his own merits, despite their name, all of these years.

So, Alec reaches deep within himself and calls forward the blood magic that every nephilim is told about but rarely any ever attempt.

It’s a brutal, vicious magic that can turn even the simplest of magical desires into an onslaught of eldritch curses.

Alec uses the blood from his split lip and cut cheek and paints a series of runes before placing his hand down and willing it to activate.

His fingers shatter from the pressure he’s using t push down at the same time the array activates and Alec smiles in satisfaction, copper thick on his tongue.

—

“The Silent Brothers have been summoned and so will remain, especially for a trial we were not notified of.”

“Because this isn’t a trial.” Alec rasps out, “I’ve been asked no questions and offered no recourse. I request two things of the Silent Brothers, one of each.”

“Your requests?”

“I declare a broken oath between parabatai. I wish to let the angel judge my parabatai and I’s bond, not the clave.”

Alec isn’t going to fight his deruning, he can’t.

But he’s not going to let the clave strip away his bond, the angel himself can do that.

“The second request?”

“After the first is finished.” Alec says firmly, not about to let them know that his request depends on how the ritual goes.

“Very well. You will need a warlock to maintain your vitals.”

Alec hates to do it, but there isn’t a warlock who he trusts more than Magnus and Alec is very tired of being betrayed.

—

“What is going on?” Magnus asks tightly, because the Institute is full of strange nephilim and there isn’t a single one he recognizes. Which normally isn’t strange, except it wasn’t like this even a week ago.

“You’ve been requested to monitor and maintain the vitals of the nephilim, Alexander Gideon Lightwood, during a ritual.” The Silent Brother escorting him informs him with their invasive way of communication.

Magnus freezes, because this sounds dangerously close to the idea that he’ll be holding Alexander’s life in his hands.

“And he knows I am the warlock working with him?”

“You are the only warlock he would agree to work with.”

Magnus wonders at what that means and curses the flare of hope in his chest. As he enters the room he frowns, noticing it’s heavily guarded by what are clearly clave guards.

They sneer as he passes and Magnus lets his glamour drop, smirking as they flinch from him.  The cell-like quality of the room means he’s not prepared for Alexander when he enters, though he should be.

Alexander looks exhausted and worse than Magnus has ever seen him, and his eyes are dull. There’s a small spark, the softening of Alexander’s gaze on him. When their eyes meet there is wonder and curiosity for a brief heartbeat before Magnus’ glamour goes back up and Alexander’s eyes drop to the floor.

“Well, this is not how I imagined seeing you again.” Magnus says, trying to soften his words but he’s surprised, and he can’t help it and the hope makes him coy. “In my dreams, I imagined crashing your wedding. Not being summoned here to keep you alive.”

Alexander lets out a hoarse, defeated laugh and shakes his head. “There’s not going to be a wedding to crash, Magnus. I’m being deruned for treason. If I’m alive in a week, it’ll be considered impressive.”

Magnus feels his heart crack with the icy hands that have suddenly grabbed it.

“Tell me, everything, Alexander. Now.”

Alec sends him a weary, hopeless gaze and then shrugs, his hoarse voice forming words that tear into Magnus’ cracking heart.

—

Alec recites the words of his oath, the one that will allow Raziel to judge the bonds of his and Jace’s soul.

If he’s to lose this, then he’s going to do it by his own choice.

He expects the pain, when it comes, but it’s more excruciating than he thought it would be. 

The part of Jace’s soul that is melded with his own is burrowed tightly. It writhes and tugs and fights leaving, and Alec is too tired to do anything but accept the pain and the struggle. He doesn’t even have the energy to fight for himself, he certainly doesn’t have the energy to fight for Jace one last time.

Instead, he lets him go and wonders, whose soul will be returned to who.

—

Magnus has never seen such a gruesome, intimate ritual in all of his life, and it galls him at how many are watching it.  He’s keeping Alexander’s heart beating only through the strength of his magic, or Alexander would be lifeless on the flat table they’ve laid him on.  There is nothing to comfort him or ease him from the cold marble and Magnus seethes that he wasn’t allowed to add any kind of magical cushioning.

It’s as if they want Alexander to feel the most discomfort possible.

He can see it in Alexander’s eyes, the surprise and confusion of waking up and it breaks apart the walls he tried so hard to hastily rebuild.

Alexander didn’t expect to wake up and Magnus was the only one he trusted to make sure that if he did die, he was properly taken care of. Death is an intimate affair for shadowhunters, and Magnus knows the honor he’s been given, but every part of this except keeping Alexander alive feels like a curse.

Because what could have happened in the mere days since they last talked and saw each other, to send Alexander spiraling so low? When he was so proud in his own misguided beliefs the last time they saw each other.

“His soul and bond have been judged. Alexander Lightwood’s soul has been returned to him; he has not broken the oath of his bond.”

Alexander doesn’t look pleased by the pronouncement, if anything the distress and grief grow before they’re hidden away.  It’s then that Magnus realizes, while there are a variety of important shadowhunters, there isn’t a single person there connected to Alexander. 

“Is family not allowed?” He asks casually, smirking at the Silent Brother, because all of their order know Magnus’ reputation enough that it’s better to indulge his curiosity.

“There was no family willing or available to come.” Is what he’s told instead of something like, ‘they’re not allowed’ and Magnus, Magnus itches with the urge to destroy something.

“And Alexander?”

Whatever information Magnus is about to learn, is interrupted by Alexander himself.

“My second request, to the Silent Brothers. To request the right of severance. A trial of law.”

Magnus is curious and he raises an eyebrow imperiously at the Silent Brother standing near him.  Magnus hears the mental sigh before he’s told, “to request such a thing, means the clave has first betrayed the nephilim requesting it. There is no risk besides the soul sword knowing it is a lie and he is still due to be deruned. If he cuts himself from the clave, the clave cannot destroy first destroy him.”

“Does he need a magical aid?” Magnus asks without thinking, because of course he wants to help Alexander get away from the people doing this to him.

“Only comfort, when the strength of his own will finally fails him.”

Magnus wonders what that means but he has no further interest in what is being said and he takes the five steps that separate him and Alexander.

“What will happen, when you succeed in the next ritual?”

“I might fail.”

“You won’t.” Magnus assures him, his fingers light as he boldly places his hand on Alexander’s shoulder. Alexander stiffens for a moment and Magnus almost moves, before Alexander visibly relaxes and leans even closer.

“I’ll be allowed to leave the clave, though I doubt any Institute will take me. I wouldn’t trust them either, not anymore.” It’s a bitter thing for Alexander to admit and Magnus can tell. “I’ll still have my runes; I won’t be hunted. I can hide in the edges of the mundane world if I need to. I’m sure Night Markets have some use for what I can hunt.”

Magnus tsks and tightens his grip on Alexander’s shoulder and sends a soothing, warming pulse through Alexander’s muscles. His shadowhunter has been shivering since the ritual and not a single shadowhunter has offered him a blanket.

This entire time he’s been dressed in thin clothes, the kind nephilim are buried in, as if his fate is already decided on. Magnus is going to burn the horrendously white shirt and pants Alexander is wearing and never let him wear the color again.

After Alexander agrees… of course.

—

Alexander’s voice is low, but strong as he speaks his truth upon the soul sword. It carries across the room as he grips the soul sword and speaks.  He looks at no one but Magnus as he talks, repeating line for line the various laws the clave have broken in his case. Even Imogen looks a little pale when he’s done, as if hearing the truth of her own crimes is worse the committing them.

Alexander seems stunned when he’s finished.

As if he didn’t really think it would work, as if he thought he might actually be in the wrong and Magnus heart breaks.

“Alexander—” Magnus murmurs as he walks towards him, for his shadowhunter’s eyes haven’t once looked away from Magnus’ unglamoured ones. His dark eyes are weary as he watches Magnus, there’s no satisfaction in having one.

Hazel eyes widen in shock as Alexander watches Magnus reach out and wrap his fingers around the hilt of the soul sword.

“None of it has ever been a game. I would cherish you, darling. Far more than the clave, your family, your parabatai or even your exalted angel, Raziel.” The sword doesn’t stop him from speaking, because it isn’t a lie. Raziel cares little for the race he created and what Magnus is starting to feel for Alexander can’t be matched even by a divine being.

Let alone the petty, hateful mortals that have brutalized Alexander’s heart and soul so badly.

“What if you get tired?” Alexander asks and Magnus knows he’s too worn to voice the ‘of me’ aloud.

“I will keep you for every moment of your life.” Magnus tells him, swearing upon an angelic relic that croons temptingly to the corrupted blood in Magnus. “I will never throw you from me. Or give up on you. Whatever exists between us, it can grow to whatever we let it and no matter what that is, I will never abandon you. You, just you, would be enough, Alexander.”

Alexander wraps his trembling arms around Magnus and nods, “then take me away. Please, Magnus. From all of it.”

Magnus smirks at the one Silent Brother who never approached him and Jem nods in return. If his friend hadn’t told him about the properties of the soul sword in detail, this never would have worked.  However, Jem isn’t afraid to toe the line of nephilim law and Magnus has never seen him so enraged as he was when he pressed against Magnus’ mind in secrecy earlier.

The clave cannot refute Magnus’ words, not when sworn on the soul sword or witnessed by two Silent Brothers and that means that this is binding.

The clave no longer has any say or power over Alexander, only Magnus does.

[soupbabe]

Forever (David x Reader)

Reader is nervous about turning and David helps them through it

Literally just writing this because of one (1) thought I had about David. This also became a lil personal fav <2

Warning: blood drinking, a tiny bit suggestive, literally the first time I'm writing something like this 💀

The echo of the radio reached every corner of the cave as your friends gathered around what was left of the hotel lobby. While Paul, Marko, and Dwayne chose to huddle around the fountain, you found yourself home on your boyfriend's lap in his wheelchair. Tonight was a celebration and the boys, particularly David, couldn't wait to get to the main event.

You were going to drink from the bottle.

You were following David into immortality.

All it took was a glance from David for Marko to go into the depths of your soon-to-be new home to fetch the green bottle. In all honesty, you weren't sure about the specifics of the ritual. David described it as his own fountain of youth, with one sip you'll be one with him forever. It was a hefty gamble to agree to do this, for as eternity was a long time. As soon as the thoughts entered your mind, Marko came out with the wine. His voice was lighthearted and sarcastic as he placed the cold container in your hand, "For the guest of honor."

You carefully rotated the bottle, letting your hands glide over the gems and textures. Within a matter of seconds you felt your palms leave fading fog on the gold plating. The group of men looked at your silence and you felt a squeeze at your sides from David. "What's the matter? If you don't take it, I will." Marko joked. You gave the bottle back to him and shrinked into David. "Go ahead." He simply shrugged and popped it open, causing Paul to snatch it out of his hands to take a sip.

As much as you wanted to observe your friends passing the bottle, you felt a leather glove move your attention to stern blue eyes. "Don't tell me you're backing out on me, Y/n." The backhandedly smooth tone had you fidgeting with your hands. "I'm not, just thinking. Forever is just a long time, y'know?" David rolled his eyes, "So?" "So what if something happens during that time. I don't want to be alone for that long." He sighed, laying a passing kiss on your lips. "I wouldn't let you do this if that was going to happen. Become one of us, Y/n."

On queue, Dwayne carried the liquid onto David, who gazed at you with a smirk. "Are you ready?" You shrugged, "I think so." "Then get up, I'll help you relax." You did as the platinum blonde told and as quick as you got up, he turned you to face him and pulled you back into his lap in a straddling position. In the background you could hear everyone's hushed giggles as David held eye contact while he put the blood to his lips.

Everything seemed to blur around you as your boyfriend swiftly put his lips to yours, still wet with red liquid from the sloppy drinking. As sudden and embarrassing as it was, you found yourself leaning into it, wanting more of that vague taste of the drink. David's tongue prodded at your lips and how couldn't you deny him, letting both his tongue and the blood explore your mouth. Flavors of metal and cigarettes flooded your senses, making your eyes blow open and for you to pull back. Admittedly, it wasn't the worst taste in the world, but swapping saliva with your lover skews your perspective on things.

The familiar touch of the glove caressed the side of the mouth as you looked at David once more. He scanned your face, dumbfounded and flustered. "I need you to swallow every last drop." Small bits of teasing laughter escaped him as he saw you gulp and your jaw drop to process what just happened. All you can hear is an abundance of laughter and cursing from your onlookers and if you could burst into flames you would've.

"I guess you're stuck with me forever Y/n. The easy part is done."

[clavissionary-position]

Leon x Reader, Welkin Blues

tags: angel au because his new bday card is real nice, slight angst, fluff, Leon spoilers

Leon turns and you jump behind his wings to remain out of his view. This is the third time you've done so in the last minute. It's not that he doesn't know that you're there or that you're playing around with him. He's just also having to weigh some serious news about a possible traitor in his inner circle. Perhaps it was a selfish thought on your part that being the bearer of said news would mean he'd let you in instead of worrying all on his own.

But that's just not the type of man he is. You've known that from Day One when he kept stealing you off on his adventures only to ditch you in someone else's care, with excuses that seemed gallant on the surface but always left you a sinking premonition. Not that you blamed him. Entirely. Everyone goes at their own pace. It's just that angels not only go but they fly. Away. A lot. No matter how charming Leon is, seeing him grow distant in the blue sky will never not twist your heart and leave you wondering what would have happened if you had refused his hand.

And he knows that. He knew that from Day One. Today he's doing his best to indulge you, but his steps are listless because his mind is definitely elsewhere. You could pluck one of his feathers and he'd still be in his troubled daze, too surly and too defenseless. And honestly, he was owed that. Suddenly not being able to trust a friend isn't an easy pill to swallow.

"I'm all ears. Human ears, but I'm all ears," you declare with a bright smile after finally popping up directly in front of him. The hands on your hips might be a little overkill, but it makes you feel cute and that kind of thing always catches Leon off-guard in a delightful way.

But maybe your tone's wrong here. It doesn't match the gravity of his predicament. You don't want him to think you're being dismissive. Or that his attention to you is what matters most. He knows that. Right?

The sunset this high up in the atmosphere rolls out over the top of a mile-long cloudbank. If Leon's not gonna watch the thing he called you up here for, and if he's not gonna watch you, you're well within your rights to write this off as a bad date. Or so the Old You Before Leon would have said, a little too callously. Because callous is what it would be for you to leave everything in Leon's hands when you have two perfectly good ones of your own. Though only one is necessary for this.

Leon stares at the slip of paper in your outstretched palm. You tuck it right up against the tip of his nose because that also makes you feel cute. But right now, it's a way for you to anchor Leon with the familiar: he did the same thing on your first date.

"What is it?" he asks when several long seconds go by without any explanation from you. The corners of his lips twitch upward as you tickle his nose, that very twitch carrying to his wings in a quirk that is particular to Leon. He finally relents and wraps his arms around you while taking the slip of paper between his lips. His eyes seem to pull the sunset into their brilliant gold. It makes his smile seem almost hyper-real, and seeing that makes your chest flutter with something heavy and light at the same time.

You pray he knows what you do to him. How far his careless charm has fashioned you into a genuine, caring, adoring, loving...

"I just happened to remember how much you liked that restaurant we went to the last time you visited me down there." You chuckle and blow on end of the paper that's still sticking out from his mouth. "Don't get too much saliva on it or I'll have to pay for those steaks out-of-pocket."

[rhine-gold-archive]

that sub xiao fic was amazing😭 can I request sub xiao with a dom male reader? any type of scenario I just like your writing tbh

sub! Xiao x amab! dom reader

A\N: Idk, i hope this works for you

Warnings: nsfw, oral (reader receiving), penetration

wordcount: 800+

He’s naked on his knees in front of you, hesitating, but you don’t rush him. It’s the first time he tries to suck your cock, despite being with you for some time, so he’s extremely out of his comfort zone. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want to, it’s that he’s so used to seeing himself only as a weapon, thinking that he’s only good for bloodshed. It’s easier for him to be passive in your arms, let you do what you want to him, because then he can’t mess it up and it feels so good to feel wanted.

But deep down, he does want to know he can learn to do something else, for something good, that isn’t tied with death and rage, that he can actively do something that brings you pleasure.

So he asked you if he could do this himself, but his anxiety flares irrationaly now

He licks his lips nervously and tentatively closes his mouth over the tip of your cock, softly swirls his tongue around it, lightly, almost a kitten lick. Then he slowly, carefully slides you deeper, and looks up at you, gold eyes, bright blush, half of your cock in his mouth.

You run your hand through his hair, smile in encouragement.

“You look so pretty like that, baby.”

 He blushes harder and starts moving his head up and down, a little clumsy, but eager, sometimes choking from trying to take you too far. You have to control yourself, because temptation to grip his hair and fuck his sweet mouth, fully bury your cock deep in his throat, is so hard to resist when he’s making these little noises, hums and moans and whimpers, keeps glancing up at you with hazy yellow eyes. 

But you know that dealing with Xiao requires patience first and foremost, he’s so easy to spook despite his prickly behavior, and you don’t want to overwhelm him when he’s already pushing himself so hard for you. 

But then he tries to swallow, still with your cock as far as it can go in his tense throat, and fails, makes a helpless gargling sound, a tiny string of saliva running out of the corner of his mouth, his eyelashes fluttering fast like the wings of the bird trying to take off. The wet and warm muscles contracting around your cock feel so good, especially with the way he looks right now, choking on your dick, you have to take it out to stop yourself from fucking his flushed face until he sobs. 

You pull him up to sit on your lap, while he’s coughing, a little disoriented, clutching at your shoulders.

“What did I do wrong?” he asks huskily after he catches his breath, and from how long it took him and how sore he sounds you know you made the right choice to slow down. For now.

“Nothing. You were perfect, baby bird.”

“Don’t lie to me. You would’ve finished if I was good.”

You kiss his swollen lips soothingly.

“Baby, you were too perfect. I had to stop to keep myself from ruining that sweet little mouth.”

He bristles defensively.

“I’m not a fragile mortal. I can take it.

You know that he likes to be fucked hard, to be used and thrown around like a doll, but you also remember that it took him some time to stop tensing up, that first he had to get comfortable in a slower tempo and lower intesity. He values himself too little to think about his own comfort, doesn’t think he deserves being treated gently, so you have to be the one to set the pace and think about his well-being.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re so eager and desperate to be fucked on the mouth…”

He blushes brilliantly, but scoffs with a proud little “Hmph” and a scowl, which is utterly ridiculous and adorable, considering he’s naked in your lap, his dick is hard against your thigh and his mouth is still full of the taste of your cock. 

“You didn’t become a fearsome warrior overnight, did you? Give it a little time, baby.”

You run your hands down his spine, pull him closer before groping his ass.

“How about you ride me for now, hm?”

It’s a compromise that lets him have a somewhat active role, but with something he’s already comfortable with. He gasps lightly when he slides down your cock, tight from being tense, his arms around your shoulders and your fingers on his hard dick, while you whisper in his ear, promising all the dirty things you’ll do to him when the time comes, how you’ll fuck his mouth until his thoat is bruised, until his pretty red eyeliner runs when he cries. He whines sweetly, clenches around you, arches and writhes on top of you, and you smile against his skin, knowing you have an eternity to properly play with him. 

[venenatd]

last meal; jean kirstein x reader

summary: you and jean are in a relationship, and finally get some private time for a cute picnic date the day before he goes on the mission to marley. it’s v cute but also ur both horny!

content: smut / nsfw 18+. minors dni. (public/outdoors sex, dracylphilya, size kink, fingering, thigh riding, use of “good girl/baby”, praise kink, female bodied reader, unprotected sex, creampie) some fluff for good measure.

i am new to this pls let me know if i should add anything!!

word count: 3.3k words of unedited content

a/n: i saw a cottage core inspired jean post and this idea immediately popped into my head. i also kept thinking back to the sunset blush scene and it felt destined lmao. i thought it was gonna be shorter but i guess i get carried away lol. pls feel free to send me requests or ideas or give any advice on what you liked!! thanku!<3

Everything is painted with gold. The sun hanging low in the sky, despite the late hour, still warms your skin. You and Jean walk away from the Scout Headquarters, warmth of the evening allowing you to roam without coats. 

He’s in a tight cream shirt, braces holding up darker toned pants. A simple hat sits on his head, shading his eyes from the setting sun. You, a simple sage dress, loose and flowing around your legs. The long grass tickles your flesh, and the two of you laugh as you try running through the field, lifting your limbs stupidly high to jump over the pasture. 

Jean snorts at you, watching you flap around. The orange hue of dusk makes your hair shine, your skin glow beautifully. And as you look up at him, a wide and goofy smile spreading across your face, he can see all the flecks and details of varying colours in your eyes. And it takes his breath away. 

It was the last night before the end. He’s not sure of what, but it feels like the next chapter is to be finished when he closes his eyes tonight. Tomorrow he goes to Marley. Hange ordered all of their team to go relax for the final day at home. “We’ve gone over the plans enough, we know every angle! Go! Shoo!”

Hange was right. Going in and getting Eren home. It was engrained in Jeans brain. The scouts knew everything they were going to before they arrived. So tonight, it’s all about you.

You, with your skirt floating around you as you weave between trees, making your way to the clearing the two of you know so well. It’s where he first admitted feelings, where you first kissed. The others don’t know (or so you both think), and until he’s safe from his last mission, you’re not sure the two of you will ever reveal your affiliation. 

Pulling a blanket from the picnic basket you’ve brought with you, Jean lays it down on the ground. There’s a wide pond in front of you both, some ducks still paddling about. A thin haze floats over the water, the last of the summer heat still encouraging dragonflies and water skippers out. 

The light snacks you’d managed to sneak out from your job in the kitchen were delicious. You’d whipped up some light pastries and desserts from leftover ingredients. Even some strawberries and grapes. Whilst everything was miniscule from lack of provisions, it tasted good enough. 

Dipping the sweet red fruit from the cream and sugar and between your lips, Jean is in heaven. Your hair being pushed by the wind away from your face, the rosiness on your cheeks. The world may end tomorrow, but tonight he’s got all he needs.

His hands reach over, noticing the drip of cream collecting on the corner of your lips. Swiping his thumb along your cheek, he notes “you’ve got a lil..”

Jean looks at you, his eyes locking on yours, still gently cupping your face in his hands. Warm pupils flick down. His brows scrunch together for a moment, before he moves forward. His other hand comes up to your face, and he is so gentle when he kisses you. It’s as if he may break you if he goes too far.

The soft plush of his lips on yours, slowly pulling you in is intoxicating. He leans back on his forearms, pulling you over him, not letting you leave his mouth. You knock into his hat, it flopping off behind him as you lower your chest over his.

A hand reaches to his chestnut hair. It’s grown long over the last few years. You play with tendrils, the two of you lazily kissing. It’s soft and easy. You’re breathing into one another your chest resting on his as you move a leg to intertwine with his. 

Shifting yourself slightly, you rest directly above his thigh. Jeans hand comes to the back of your neck, making sure you don’t split the contact he so desperately needs. Your nails slide softly against his scalp, twisting into his hair with more want. 

The man, your man, underneath you curls forward, leg lifting and chest pushing up into you. Your crotch bumps against his thigh. A delightful little gasp erupts from you. If Jean wasn’t tongue deep in your mouth he could have even missed it. But he is, and he didn’t. 

He’s tempted to see how far he can take this, maybe make another first here. You’ve had sex, and plenty of it. Although for the most part it’s been rushed, the nature of your jobs only allowing for quickies. You both lived in shared rooms, and the lack of privacy was definitely a roadblock in his attempts to please you.

This clearing, in the outside meadows by headquarters, is maybe an ironic place for the privacy you both so need. Putting any doubt out of his mind, Jean lifts his muscular thigh, achieving another gasp into his mouth from you. You grind against it slowly, tentatively.

“No need to be shy, baby girl” he smiles into the kiss.

Cheeks rosy, you roll your hips along his leg. Jeans body rises further, leaning back casually on one hand, the other gripping the flesh between your waist and hip. He breaks the kiss that has been going on so long, wanting to take in all the ways your face displays pleasure. 

Your eyebrows knit together slightly. Your lips are wet with saliva, slightly parted as you give off little mewls each time your clothed cunt is brushed along his cotton pants. 

There’s a sweet and tender feeling building in your lower stomach. You can feel how wet you’re getting, the slow and methodical undulations generating a heat between your thighs. 

“Jean, plea-”

“You want more?” he’s quick to answer. Your head jumps and up and down, past the point of playing shy. 

His long fingers meet with your jaw once more, lightly skimming your features. He’s noting it all down in his head. Maybe he’ll even make a drawing of you. You pause in your ministrations, and a low tutting comes from the man. “No, no. Keep riding. Get yourself ready.” 

A delicious smile emerges on your face, and you bear down on his thigh. You take your hands on each leg, gripping onto the thickly built muscle underneath the cloth. A couple of fingers miss their mark, and you can feel how hard Jean is getting. Eyes flash between his crotch and his face, and he can sense how eager you are to please him. 

His touch moves from your jaw down, one finger slowly running along the centre of your throat. Jeans hand dips, slowly dragging his fingernails across each collar bone, down to the valley of your chest. Your breath hitches, and he moves away again. You shift your hand in response, moving it towards the joint between his thigh and pelvis, allowing your fingers to brush his clothed balls.

Wherever his fingers move leaves a tingling in their wake. They push towards your shoulder, teasing the fabric from each one. Your dress pools a little, allowing him to make his way back, this time taking your breast in his hand. Thumb brushes against your puffy buds, and a finger meets it to squeeze lightly.

Jean fully lifts off the blanket, sat up straight. He makes quick work of your dress, pulling it down and pushing it up. He grabs at your legs, going between light caresses and tight grasps, not knowing which to settle with. Finally he finds purchase in your ass, guiding you back and forth over his thigh.

You moan into his mouth, fully succumbing to the wetness surely dampening through your panties, the feeling of his fingers twisting and teasing your pert nipples. He raises his fingers from your chest, using his thumb on your lower lip to apply gentle pressure. 

Breaking the trail of saliva that connects you both, he pushes an index finger between your lips. You’re all too eager to suck on it, eyes looking dutifully at him. He inhales sharply between his teeth. His cock is so hard, so desperate to fuck into you. Jean wants it to be slow and beautiful, but he simply needs to have you. He wants you close to him before he leaves and doesn’t know if he’ll come back. And close means being inside you, hearing you in your purest form. 

The dusky pink settling on his cheeks could be the sun, low in the sky, filling the meadow with rich hues. 

Your moans could not be interpreted so wholesomely.

Fingers wet with your spit, he moves his hand between your legs, under the skirt. Pushing your panties to the side he lets you ride his palm for a moment. Teasing yourself, teasing your clit on his strong hand. He goes deeper, fingers sliding through your folds. He slips through your folds, resting at your entrance, before allowing your hips to rise and him to push knuckle deep inside you.

You reddened lips form a perfect ‘o’, and the bliss on your face is one he will remember forever. His thumb moves to your clit. Still on top of him, Jean watches you fuck yourself on his fingers. He kisses your neck, your chest. Taking your nipples and sucking, biting, nibbling. 

Your walls are closing in on him, before gently relaxing and he can tell you’re close. 

“Don’t be shy” Jean reissues his earlier statement. But now it’s far huskier, far more commanding. “I want to hear you, y/n. I want to hear you cum.” 

You’re watching his face, the words - orders - tumble from his lips. They make you flutter around his fingers. You murmur out tiny please’s. 

“What did I say? Louder, y/n.”

You moan against his neck, “please.”

Jean pulls your hair, making you extend your neck, forcing you to look up to the hues of pink and orange. “Louder.”

You’re so close. “Jean, p- please!” 

“Good girl.”

With that he’s flicking his thumb over your clit, fucking his fingers up into your cunt. The sounds of liquid and wetness only add to the noises of you cumming. Pussy clenching around his fingers, hips giving way and as your legs start to burn and shake. Jean holds you up, working you through your orgasm. He wants nothing more than to watch you fall apart, moaning his name. And then whining curses as you become oversensitive. Yet your gummy walls still suck him in, begging for more.

Leaving your tight walls, he brings the fingers to his lips. You taste tarte and sweet. Better than strawberries any day.

Your breaths are heavy as he twists the two of you, resting you with your back on the blanket. You are radiant. A green halo of grass above you, the dusting of pink on your cheeks, your lips kiss-swollen.

Jean pushes your skirt up, eyes trained on yours as you rest on your elbows. Your eyes follow his movements. How his tongue wets his lips before he drags them on your inner thigh. How his fingers dig in to pull you closer towards him. 

He pulls off your sodden panties, kissing into your hips, your belly. Jean is slow and deliberate. As much as he wants to be deep within you, he’s never had the chance to enjoy you this slowly before. 

He rises, kissing your breasts as they spill from the top of your dress. His tongue paints saliva on your lips before slipping between them. The kiss is intense. It’s deep and sloppy and so needy. 

Your hand reaches to his shoulders, thumb slipping underneath his braces pulling them off. Hands slip under his shirt, and he quickly helps you pull it off. His muscles are firm and taught, the amount of work his body has been through over the years evident underneath your fingers. You trail fingertips over stripes of knotted flesh, kissing each mark and scar after your hands move onto the next one. 

“You’re beautiful, Jean”

Jeans cheeks go rosy and he smiles so bashfully that it breaks you apart. The lopsided grin makes you pull him back into you, teeth bumping together as you giggle into the kiss. 

He unbuttons his pants, pushing them far enough down his thighs to allow more friction as he grinds into you. Jean is noticeably straining his underwear, his member long and hard. You move your hand down to cup him, squeezing gently through the cotton. You tug on his cock, leaving him stuttering into your mouth. Holding him just tightly enough, he ruts his hips into your hand, little sighs escaping his mouth into your hair. 

Tucking your hand under the fabric, you pull out his dick. It makes your hand look smaller, Jean’s member long and hard. The pink tip is slick with precum, and your thumb brushes his head slightly, earning a little hiss. 

You go from light little touches to harsher ones. Fingers brushing against the veins on his length, before you wrap around him again. He’s whining in your ear, “you like playing with my cock? Seeing what you do to me?” 

With hooded eyelids you look at his contorting face and whisper “yes, yes. I want to please you, I want to make you feel good.” 

“Such a good girl for me.”

Taking his member, you push the tip against the heat between your legs. Teasing your clit with his head, he looks down to watch you work. Precum lightly sheens over your folds, and fuck, Jean can’t wait to add to it. 

“I w-want you so bad Jean.” 

“You have all of me.” 

You hold him against your entrance, the tip of him just resting at your little hole. Pulling him in a little, he pushes against the first tight ring. It’s always intense letting Jean fuck you, making you so full. You rock your hips up, letting him slip out a little, before grinding back down. It pulls him into you so sensually. He moans unashamedly as you control the pleasure you both receive. 

Repeating the action, you lift again, pushing him out, and again tightening your stomach muscles to curl and bring him deeper inside you. His golden eyes are trained on where you’re conjoined. 

He’s halfway inside you, stretching your tight walls so much already. Jean sits back, moving his tongue around inside his mouth before letting a ball of spit fall where his cock rests inside of you. Spreading it on his length, he helps you the rest of the way. Letting your eyes widen and gasp of surprise (how are you always surprised by the feeling?) as he fully sheaths himself inside you. 

“God, you’re so tight,” he holds himself above you, head falling back as he inhales slowly.

Jean allows you a moment to breath, before he pulls back out, quickly snapping his hips back to yours. Moans tumble out of your mouth as he fucks into you. Lashes fluttering and your tits bouncing in rhythm, you are a sight for the sorest of eyes.

“You’re so pretty for me, all splayed out on my cock.” 

He pushes your legs apart, watching his length disappear inside you. Watching how one hand twists your own nipple, the other feebly trying to grab onto his wrist. He’s splitting you apart on his dick, the feeling of being so fucking full taking over. You were already sensitive from your last orgasm, but he builds another, the tightening in your core unmistakable. 

“J- Jean,” you hiccup, so overwhelmed by him. “You’re s- so big” 

“You’re taking me so well, y/n.” 

He lowers himself against your chest, bringing his knees upwards and closer to your ass. You curl up around him, holding your legs further up. Jean quickly renegotiates the position, pulling your legs around him whilst you hold under your knees. You can feel him so deep inside you this way, pulled into a ball underneath him. Jean wants to be impossibly close, and this new angle is punishing on your pussy. He can feel how wet you are between you, how much you enjoy the intensity of his cock working in and out. 

His forehead presses against yours, his hand snaking between you two. From his new angle, he can hit that sweet spot inside you so easily. His length sweeps against it, and hits into your furthest wall. He lets out curses as he feels your cunt tighten each time, mixing with the moans and mewls from you. You lock eyes with him, big doe eyes pricking. 

“Pl- please, I’m so close, Jean.”

Fat tears roll over your cheek, trailing to your temple. Everything feels too much. Him inside of you, the wet squelching between you. His strong fingers rubbing over your clit again and again. You let out a sob, followed by a moan. It’s a combination of knowing this is the last night, feeling how fucking intense his cock is inside you, hearing how much Jean needs you. He kisses your cheeks, tasting the salt, not faltering as he continues to pummel into you. 

“You’re doing so good, baby.”

His balls slap against your skin. 

“You can do it.” 

His teeth bite at the flesh of your breast, pull at your nipples.

“I want to hear you.”

His fingers play and roll with your clit, feeling the way you tighten around his cock.

“Please cum for me, y/n.”

Your back arches off the blanket, the night sky soaking up the moans. The lewd noises in between you both are all consuming, the slap of slick and wetness only adding to your full body sensation. 

His fingers keep moving on your clit, and Jean grunts each time your pussy spasms around his cock. He keeps pace, fucking you raw and with need. He loves to see your delicate face scrunched up, eyes rolling back and mouth unable to close. 

And with the tightening of your walls around him, Jean’s close. “Where do you want me?” 

“I want,” you inhale sharply, as his cock drives back into you, “you inside me- I- I need you Jean. Please.”

“You’re so good, baby, you’re so good.” He’s getting quicker, making you writhe beneath him in your overstimulated state. “I’ll give you what you want, okay? I’m going to cum inside your pretty pussy.” 

Jeans fingers are going to bruise you. He's holding onto you so tight, never wanting to let you go. It’ll be something to remember him by. Movements are starting to stammer, the sweat evident by the sheen forming across his shoulders and face. You tuck a tendril of his honey hair behind his ear. “I love you”, you whisper amongst the moans. And with that he pushes deep enough to make you cry out, feeling the hot ropes of cum painting your walls. 

Your man rests inside you for a moment, gathering his breath as he leaves languid kisses against your breasts, your jaw, your lips. He pulls out, seeing his cum drip from your pussy. Using his fingers he pushes the white around your folds, earning a sharp his when he brushes past your clit. Finally, he brings his fingers to your lips, and you put out a delicate tongue. 

Cleaning him with your mouth, he sits back, sighing softly. How can you be this good? And you like him? Jean thinks he is the luckiest man on earth. He adjusts your dress for comfortability, before dipping next to you. Your heads are lightly touching, your hair intertwined with his. Staring up at the sky as the last colour leaves it in its inkiness, he holds you close. He presses his final kiss on your forehead. 

“I love you too.” 

[obeiii-mee]

Can I angst for Mammon where he is in a really bad mood and his brothers are at it again calling him names. And already ask them kindly to leave him alone but they keep at it. And Levi says something and it's the last straw. The air around them get cold for a moment as he slowly looks up and he flat out threatens them to shut up before he puts them back into there place with a really dark and threatening voice, before leaving. And the look could rival Satan's or even Lucifers glare.

I think Mammon takes the abuse of his brothers but sometimes he isn't in the mood and want a little peace and it is very very rare for him to get pissed

Like he's the kind of person who would yell when he's upset but when he's down right pissed it's like really fucking scary

People forget that as much as he lets his brothers push him around he is still the second oldest and is powerful so 😬

Brothers+ undateables reaction

Mammon snaps:

___________________

This is something I’ve mentioned in previous posts, but I basically second everything you said. I believe that Mammon dislikes getting into confrontations but isn’t by any means weak or stupid. He is the second eldest. However he is also, arguably, the one with the most self control out of them all. He has an overwhelming amount of patience when it comes to his siblings and I like to think he puts up with all of their insults because he loves them. Then again, it’s very possible for him to go berserk after years worth of build up.

Thanks for the request!!! I had a bit of trouble at first because I didn’t know how I was going to format it but I like the way it turned out so I hope you do too. Uhh also I reached my word limit writing this so I couldn’t include Simon, Luke and Solomon. I do plan on writing for them as well but at this point I’m just trying to get this done. Let me know if I made any grammatical errors! I double check my writing all the time but sometimes mistakes got over my head! The undateables are short because honestly I view the brothers as the ones who will suffer the most out of everyone. I hope you enjoy reading it anyway!!

•Characters: Lucifer, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphagour, Diavolo, Barbatos.

⚠️Warnings: Cursing, mentions of blood & gore and that’s about it.

___________________

For the past few months, Lord Diavolo’s pleasure of hosting parties and inviting people over had become more and more noticeable. It was pretty obvious that the Prince was lonely, isolating himself from others due to the responsibilities he has as the heir to the throne and a leader in the making. Attending his gatherings seemed like a down right chore for most of the brothers but you never had any problem tagging along. Besides, it felt nice knowing he seemed you worthy of coming to such important meetings. Your seven demons were, of course, also invited and per Lucifer’s orders, they all got cleaned up and dressed in fancy clothing to impress the regals prancing about the castle. Though the outfits themselves came with their own set of problems. Levi’s was way too tight; the collar seemed to annoy him more than anything else, judging by the patches of red skin on his neck. Satan accidentally ripped one of the buttons from his jacket off in a fit of rage earlier that day and was now silently fuming while poking his finger through the hole he made. Even Asmo spilled some water on his shirt before they arrived, ruining his pretty pink suit! Not to mention Beel was munching on his tie, having last eaten about 15 minutes beforehand. Lucifer pulled it out of his mouth and scowled at the saliva stains that were left behind. Safe to say they were all in a miserable mood to begin with.

“I expect all of you to behave in a respectable manner,” Lucifer flicked Belphie on the back of the head just as he began dozing off, making the youngest growl at him. He shot Mammon an irritated look “I’m especially talking to you Mammon. Don’t try to steal anything or I’ll cut your hands off.”

“I told ya big bro, ya don’t have to worry about me! I’ll be a golden child today! Promise!” Mammon held up his pinky as if he was committing to some kind of oath. The eldest darkened his glare and opened his mouth to say something else, but you interrupted in hopes of avoiding any bickering that might’ve followed.

“Look, there’s our table! Let’s go sit down. Lord Diavolo’s speech is going to start any minute now.”

Beel leaped at the table as soon as he sniffed out the appetisers, which were neatly arranged on the expensive tablecloth, shoving at least half of them in his mouth by the time the rest of you caught up with him. Having been seated, you quickly glanced around the room in hopes of spotting Diavolo. You bumped into Solomon and the angels before entering the castle, chit chatting with them for a while about the event. Even now, Luke was excitedly waving at you from across the room, using both of his arms. However, Lord Diavolo and Barbatos were the ones in charge of this party and you were yet to see either of them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Mammon eyeing the golden utensils laid out in front of him. Not the biggest of surprises really. Anytime Mammon sees something along the lines of gold, he can’t help but snatch it away. And there’s obviously so many valuables scattered all over the place, including the silverware that was proudly presented on every table. You sucked in a breath of anticipation when he reached for one of the spoons, only to exhale in relief when he placed it on the bridge of his nose, trying to balance it.

“MC, look at this!” He tapped your shoulder, as always wanting your full and undivided attention as he demonstrated his newfound skill. You giggled at his antics with fondness as he accidentally let the spoon drop with a clatter and a quiet ‘shit’ coming from him. Lucifer pulled on his ear, like a mother scolding her child and whisper-yelled at him to stop acting like an idiot. The only reason the oldest chose a sit right next to Mammon was to maintain order and peace. Basically, he did it for disciplinary reasons.

“I understand that being impertinent is your full-time job, Mammon but keep this up and I’ll throw you in Cerberus’ room. Let him do with you as he pleases.”

“Lucifer, it’s not a big deal-“

“Yeah, OK,” Mammon hissed, picking up the spoon from the recently polished floor with a slight grin that didn’t quiet reach his eyes “I gotcha. Can-“

“Speaking of Cerberus,” Levi suddenly piped in, no longer fussing about his collar or nervously twiddling with his thumbs because of the massive crowd of demons surrounding him “Didn’t you force me to walk him last week when it was your turn to do it?? I only agreed because you promised to buy me the newest Ruri-Chan limited edition body pillow that came out last Tuesday! And you never did! And now they’re out of stock, you scummy piece of-“

The third eldest would’ve leapt across the table and aimed for the throat if you hadn’t pressed a gentle hand against his chest, making him sit back down with a huff. People were starting to stare at the commotion coming from your table, turning heads and muttering between themselves. You were slowly dying from embarrassment by the way, since you guys definitely became the topic of conversation for the other guests. The brothers were being too noisy to even notice and Lucifer himself was too preoccupied to see the scene they were creating which made you further slouch down into your chair, silently hoping for the ground to swallow you whole. The night really wasn’t going as intended. You could hear Solomon laughing at the brothers’ antics from three tables down.

“I guess that’s Mammon for you,” Belphie yawned, barely raising his head from table “He lies everyday, all day. What exactly is new here? And that says something since it’s coming from me.”

“I apologised for that!” Mammon whined, referring to Levi’s accusation and choosing not to address Belphie’s insult “I was gonna buy it but then I realised I spent all my money earlier that week anyway so I couldn’t!”

“Perhaps that wouldn’t happen if you learned how to save the money you earn properly,” Satan muttered, sipping from his glass of whatever beverage he had snatched from the servants earlier “Not like you know how to earn money in any way besides stealing it.”

You watch as Mammon clenched his fist “Can we please just move on-“

“I can’t believe that I was cursed with this moron for a brother,” Asmo sighed, almost theatrically, as if he was performing. And, in a way, he was. People were getting really interested in the drama unfolding over there. It was making you even more anxious, all those eyes staring at you. The Avatar of Lust was leaning so much on his chair, you were sure he was going to topple over and at this point, you kinda hoped he would. Anything to stop this momentum of hatred aimed at Mammon “You’re always getting us in trouble, you know. Hmph, we can’t go anywhere with you Mammon! You always end up ruining it for us! With your stupid schemes and-“

“I’m hungry-“

“Not now, Beel!”

“Cutting him up into tiny pieces for the witches will always be an option,” Lucifer chimed in, smiling at the thought.

Mammon snapped his head upwards at that. It was such an abrupt reaction, it made you jolt a little in your seat. You couldn’t miss the tension radiating from him, how quickly his body stiffened and exactly how hard his hands were gripping the edge of the table. His brothers were still paying him no mind, blaming him for this and that under their breath or being silently judgemental in Lucifer’s case. You worried for him because Mammon rarely acted like this; feral, in a way. Just so you know, he definitely noticed it. The look of concern plastered all over your face. That’s the only reason he released the table from his vice-like grip and slouched back against his chair. Satan went quiet and was staring at Mammon in bewilderment.

He disliked the idea of you watching him lose control of himself. He was your guardian. Your first pact. It’s important to him that your relationship is build around a pillar of trust. And he can’t even expect you to trust him if he exposes you to his demon form every time something inconveniences him. Mammon would rather cease to exit than have you fear him. So he kept his breathing regulated as the fog cleared his mind. The Avatar of Greed isn’t an angry demon. Snuffing out the the flame of rage he had fanned up until then was relatively easy. He just needed to get through tonight, then he could go home and complain to you about it once he got out of his brothers’ earshot.

“Why does he get to spend so much time with MC anyway? He’d probably sell them for a few Grimm any time of the day, wouldn’t he? It’s so fucking unfair. He won’t change no matter what so why risk MC’s safety? I will summon Lotan on him if he starts getting on my nerves.”

It would be an understatement to say that those words rubbed Mammon the wrong way, judging by the lack of immediate response. It was unexpected for him keep his mouth shut at a time like this. What was even more unexpected was the abrupt, delayed reaction he had a few seconds afterwards, resulting in his chair being flung back about 5 feet in that general direction. The seemingly deafening thud it made when it collided with the floor echoed around the dining hall, bouncing off walls and whacking people over the heads with the aggression behind it. A moment of pure, indescribably loud silence filled the crowded space as everyone else stared in shock at their brother, mouths agape and eyes bulging out of their sockets. Mammon would’ve laughed at their faces if it weren’t for the circumstances leading up to that point.

“What gives any of you the right to treat me like some sort of punching bag?” Mammon drawled, accentuating his obviously superior nature to almost every single demon at that table. He laughed, in an oddly half hearted way, before his sea struck gaze landed back to his siblings “Do not try to push me into a corner, because I will not handle it well. You’ve been having a field day with me for centuries now and I’m starting to get really ticked off, ya know? But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’ve done everything in my power to keep MC alive for the past few months and y’all are acting as if I’m out here playing with their life. Complain about me all you want. But...” He thumped the table, loud enough to make all the noblemen in the room flinch.

“Don’t you dare insinuate that I would ever put MC in danger, willingly or not because I will rip out your insides and paint the walls of this palace with them while hanging your intestines from these chandeliers. I will pluck your hairs out one by one, then your nails, then your eyeballs and then your teeth. You’re the ones that have put MC in danger’s way time and time again in the past few weeks, and you’re out here trying to suggest that I would even think about hurting them? Unlike every single one of you, who almost killed my human-you’re lucky I don’t have your fucking heads.”

He smashed his fist into the table again, using even more of his strength this time and effectively breaking the whole thing, the wooden legs giving out and shattering into thousands of splinters. Mammon spoke again, his voice lowering “MC forgave you. I didn’t. And I have no reason to. Not with how you’ve been treating me.”Once he spit that out, Mammon turned on his heel and left, slamming the door shut behind him hard enough to shake the whole building, leaving his siblings in dazed awe.

......

Even more silence. For some reason, all of the brothers at the now broken table ended up looking your way, silently questioning what they should do. It often ended up like this

You gave them all an unimpressed stare and a half-assed shrug “Don’t look at me. You guys fucked up.” Before sliding out of your seat and following Mammon out of the castle, sending an apologetic smile to Diavolo on your way out. Hopefully, you could manage to calm him down before everyone else gets home otherwise this might drag on for a while.

Lucifer:

-In all honesty, he probably saw the signs from a mile away and still decided to ignore them

-Maybe because he believed they weren’t being all that harsh on him, even if in Mammon’s eyes they were

-‘Harsh’ in Lucifer’s vocabulary usually means being hanged upside down from a ceiling or publicly executed, not a couple of mere insults

-Not to mention the eldest had always been horrible at communicating with his brothers when it came to emotions

-Despite Mammon clearly suffering from the treatment he received from his brothers, Lucifer refuses to believe he’s the root of the problem

-As the Avatar of Pride, he always had a hard time realising that all those words and the constant teasing, which he deemed to be pretty harmless, scarred Mammon a lot more than expected

-Once he actually comes to that conclusion, and after getting over the initial shock, Lucifer would probably feel the guiltiest out of them all

-Being the eldest means he carries quite a few burdens on his shoulders as most responsibilities fall on him due to his prideful nature

-He would blame himself for Mammon’s outburst simply because he’s the older brother and he should’ve known better, not just because he sees how a big of a role he played in all of this

-Usually, if his brothers do something bad, then he’s there to fix it within hours, that’s how it always worked

-Except he doesn’t know how to fix this exactly

-The problem is he has no idea how to approach Mammon after that sudden meltdown and he has no idea how to talk it out with him because he sucks at expressing himself verbally

-And since this took place in a public space, Lord Diavolo’s Palace no less, he felt really conflicted on what should have been done at that moment in time

-There was a lot of frustration, embarrassment and confusion in him for a good five minutes after Mammon slammed that door shut behind him and even after he gathered his thoughts together, he was still in shock for the rest of the night

-In any case, the whole event was promptly cancelled and everyone ended up going home earlier than expected, after Lucifer apologised to Diavolo about the spectacle they created (several times)

-When they finally get home, he decided to give Mammon his space instead of trying to knock at his door and instead went back to his room

-He knows they will need to solve this matter soon but there’s no way Mammon will want to see, let alone talk, to any of them just yet

-He’s sort of hoping he can apologise best he can next morning at breakfast, cross his fingers and wish for the best but judging by the venom that laced Mammon’s voice the night before, it’s not likely he will forgive any of them that easily.

Levi:

-If I were to guess, he saw the ending credits of his life flash before his very eyes as soon as those words left his mouth

-Levi felt a panic in him like never before, not even while playing his engaging horror visual novels at 3am in complete darkness or that one time he used Lucifer’s credit card to buy merch before being found out

-Must’ve forgotten his brother technically ranks higher than him on the power scale for a second there

-Or maybe he didn’t think his insults were going to affect him much

-They usually don’t

-Or at least that’s the impression he’s been under for a while now

-Mammon doesn’t snap easily under pressure but Levi must’ve really hit a nerve there that night

-While everyone was sitting in a short silence after Mammon left the building, he started twiddling with his fingers again the more he thought about it

-Because now he went from nervous to fucking terrified of what the hell was waiting for him when he finally got home

-He does feel guilty, nowhere near as much guilt as Lucifer feels but still pure shame

-However most of that guilt is swallowed by a steady fear and the constant worry of ‘how do I stop my brother from killing me?’

-Unlike Lucifer, I honestly don’t see him taking any sort of initiative when it comes to apologising to Mammon

-Not even because he doesn’t want to, but he would freeze up if he were to come face to face with him after that incident and then scamper back to his room like a rat in hiding

-So without your help, it’s likely the two won’t be speaking to each very soon which can honestly make life at the House of Lamentation so much more miserable

-In the end, if either you or Lucifer forced him to, he would say sorry by selling some of his merch and then giving him the profits (in secret but we all know it’s him)

-That is a big sacrifice on Levi’s part considering how precious his merchandise is to him

-But the idea that he’s gonna get murdered in his sleep by his older brother was getting a tad too real

-Besides, Mammon is still his brother and if he has to sell a couple of items in order to make him less mad, he would do it, albeit with a bit of grumbling

-Despite that, Mammon still refuses to come out of his room and sort of relies on you to bring him food because he doesn’t want to see his brothers

-Levi and Mammon would probably have to rebuild a lot of their relationship after this but it could easily take months for that to happen since Levi is too terrified to look him in the eye and Mammon is too upset to even hear his voice

Satan:

-He wouldn’t be the Avatar of Wrath if he couldn’t spot the anger within someone from a mile away

-He’s always been able to recognise the fury building up inside of him so for Satan it’s second nature to just know when someone’s on the brink of snapping

-It’s no surprise to say that he probably noticed Mammon’s wrath spilling out before anyone else did

-But alas, he realised it too late

-If he had reacted quicker, maybe he would’ve been able to diffuse Mammon before he exploded on them. Or not

-It’s difficult to tell if he could’ve actually helped because who was he to tell Mammon to calm down??? If anyone told him that while he was throwing a fit, he would probably break their necks-

-In the end, he just pressed his lips into a straight line and watched his brother throw his chair across the room

-Not gonna lie, he found it a bit entertaining purely because of the look on Lucifer’s face

-Satan had to try really hard not to crack a smile because he knew Mammon would probably smash a glass against his head or something

-Even so, he was the first to stand up and offer to go after him, though he wasn’t sure he could do much consoling

-Being so experienced with anger meant that he knew Mammon had built himself into a rage that he won’t be able to escape out of too easily

-Which is why he advises Lucifer to give Mammon his space once they get home

-Overall, the most understanding out of all of the brothers

-At this point in time, probably the least judgemental out of everyone and once Mammon comes out of his room for the first time in a while, either him or Beel is going to apologise to him first

-He may push and push him alongside the rest of his siblings but I feel like Satan doesn’t want to reach a certain low, like cornering Mammon into the frenzy he had that day ever again

-He might get pissy with him if he’s being too stubborn to forgive anyone after coming down from his intrusive thoughts

-And he really hates that Mammon had to remind them about all the times you had nearly died because of them, because he knows they won’t be able to make it up to you so why is Mammon upset about this????

-But he will try to maintain respect for his older brother from then on

-Even if the sharpest of remarks is on the top of his tongue!

Asmo:

-Asmo is the type to laugh it off and then start feeling really upset about it later on, the longer he thinks about the whole thing

-After Mammon storms out, he just assumes it’s another one of those ‘Mammon’ things and tried to brush the feeling of unease off him

-Even so, later that night the memory of Mammon kept coming back to him while he laid in his bed, unable to have a nice rest for the first time in how long? He’s always been really strict about his sleeping schedules after all

-Asmo’s observant, almost on par with Satan himself when it comes down to it. He definitely saw the gleam of anger, pent up frustration and hatred in his brothers’ eyes that moment and it legitimately scared him, even if it was for just half a second

-Honestly, he begins neglecting himself out of anticipation and worry which is a huge red flag for the Avatar of Lust who always holds himself at such a superior level compared to everyone else

-It may start out slow, but it has the same effect as a snowball rolling down the hill. It becomes more of a problem the longer it’s ignored

-Because he spends most of his days now debating whether he should try to coax his brother into coming out of his room and apologising to him, he forgets about himself

-Skincare routines are missed, pedicure appointments have been cancelled; hell, if Mammon’s keeps being stubborn, he may let his hair become absolutely filthy

-Asmo sort of relies on his brothers to provide the living environment he revolves around. If something is off with his brothers, he can not work properly either because it doesn’t feel right to do so

-Imagine a machine not working anymore because one of the clogs in it got stuck

-I can see Asmo feeling a decent amount of guilt when it comes to the situation but he still blames Levi for completely pushing him over the edge at dinner

-So now those two aren’t talking (it’s honestly so exhausting since they’re shoving the blame onto each other without stop)

-If Mammon decides to come out and hear them out, Asmo might get on his knees and beg because that guilt bubbling up inside of him may end up being his demise

-No seriously, MC might need to keep an eye out on him too while comforting Mammon because whatever he is doing isn’t healthy

-Takes Mammon’s outburst pretty badly and tries apologising to him many times but the second eldest still hasn’t said a word to any of them

-And that’s driving him into a fucking swirl of insanity at this point

-Of course, much like Mammon’s mental breakdown, this builds up over time but the result can be devasting

-If you pass by his room at night, you could probably hear him sob about how his brother hates him and it’s really heartbreaking to hear pained cries like that coming from such an overly confident demon like Asmo

Beel:

-Literally the only one here that doesn’t dish out insults onto Mammon every hour of the day

-He joins in very rarely and even when he does, it’s usually in good nature rather than malice

-Unless food is involved. Feelings (and Mammon) might be hurt if that’s the case

-Beel wasn’t listening to his siblings as they were diminishing Mammon, he was way too hungry to comprehend what the hell they were on about

-So he just started wolfing down appetisers until he noticed you looking all weary

-That’s the first thing that put him on alert

-And then the second born’s aura was also...off putting

-Might’ve actually tried to nudge Belphie to stop him from saying anything offensive to Mammon in this state when he realised how tense the atmosphere got

-Flinched when his brother left the palace, almost cracking the whole doorway on his way out

-Hunger is all but gone and at this point he wants to go home to check up on him

-Beel is a bit of a softie and he wears his heart on his sleeve a lot of the times

-He never did anything particularly bad to Mammon, not on the same scale his brothers did certainly and yet he still felt extremely bad

-Perhaps because he didn’t step in as much as he should’ve...?

-Either way, when his loved ones suffer, he has a tendency of putting the blame on himself because he feels it’s the only logical answer

-Honestly, he feels guilty enough to the point where it’s affecting his eating habits-which is obviously not normal for the Avatar of Gluttony

-Beel knows Mammon doesn’t want to talk to him but he still brings him food and leaves it at the doorstep of his room since he doesn’t want to come out and have dinner with them

-Or he relies on you to give it to him

-The thought of Mammon being so mad at them that he doesn’t even want to eat makes him feel so vulnerable

-As soon as he sees him for the first time since that night, he will probably be the first to apologise, even if Mammon isn’t in the mood to hear apologies

-Again, he’s trying to use food to make up to him (bringing him his favourites and paying for them)

-Even if he gets ignored, he’s still going to do it

-Beel is trying his best to say sorry to his older brother the only way he knows how to do so, but Mammon still doesn’t give in

Belphie:

-Could’ve been asleep the whole time Mammon was thrashing about

-Or at least that’s what it looked like to the average passer-by

-Kept one eye open to watch as Mammon finally snapped under pressure, having to raise his head once his brother broke the whole god damned table

-“OK, alright, storm off I guess-I have a splinter now-“

-Don’t trust that sarcastic commentary, he’s in deep thought on the inside

-Maybe he should’ve expected this but then again, he never would’ve guessed Mammon had it in him to be so aggressive

-Will narrow his eyes at him when he talks your death and scowl

-As if he didn’t already feel like the world’s biggest piece of shit, he had to bring that up

-As soon as he leaves, he turns to Lucifer and goes “See what you did? You broke Mammon. You suck, Lucifer.”

-The shifting of blame suits Belphie really well (it takes Beel side glancing him to get him to shut up)

-The Avatar of Sloth is too tired to even try to communicate with his brother so he goes straight to bed after getting home

-However, he actually visits Mammon’s dreams that night

-Or at least tries to, if Mammon is getting any sleep after that showdown

-It’s his way of checking in with his brother, helps him evaluate the situation

- Whether that works or not, there was definitely an attempt that required a lot of effort and you don’t see that very often with Belphagour

-It really demonstrates how much he actually cares for his family, even if he hides behind snide remarks and the likes of it

-However, if Mammon refuses communication, then he can’t do anything but give up

-He clearly won’t be able to convince him to step aside for a chit chat and why waste energy trying to force him to do so

-When the time comes, Belphie knows his brother will willingly talk to him (or at least someone else because he knows he’s not any good at comfort or apologies)

-At the same time, a lot of the things Mammon said during that party rubbed him the wrong way and seeing his twin suffer because of it is also pissing him off so patience may be running thin with Belphie

-Like Levi, there may be a lot of ice between the two from then onwards so it won’t be easy for them to find the middle ground in this whole argument either

-It could lead to a strained relationship if no one intervenes or even a physical fight if the youngest pushes all of Mammon’s buttons properly

Diavolo:

-The Future King feels guilty too, for some reason

-He is clearly not involved but he’s under the impression his party was a catalyst of sorts to the fight that broke out that night

-Diavolo wasn’t even in the same room when it happened-he heard shouting and growling from next door whilst talking to a noble about future arrangements in DevilDom and rushed in

-The sight was something to behold really; Mammon cornering all of his brothers and threatening them with pure venom in his voice wasn’t something you saw everyday

-More often than not, it was the other way around so the Prince had every right to be concerned

-He tried asking Lucifer what was going on after the second eldest slammed the door shut behind him and left but to no avail; the Avatar of Pride was in a state of shock and the only thing he did was apologise to him about a million times before his departure with the rest of his siblings

-Despite his worry, Diavolo tried not to get involved in the aftermath either, believing it’s not his place to interfere and hoping they would solve it out amongst themselves

-He did give Mammon permission to miss RAD classes for that week, thinking a small break is what he needed most

-Even drops by every now and then to check up on him (he just asks you how he’s holding up because he doesn’t want to pry)

-He can’t do much but watch from the sidelines, I mean this is a family dispute so it would be wise to just give them all a bit of space

-If it drags on for too long, however, he will be forced to do something because the brothers are all distracted and can’t get on with their student council work because of it

-Lucifer is even more stressed than usual and can’t even focus during their meetings so for the sake of his friend, if nothing gets resolved quickly, he will intervene and it won’t be pretty

-For now, he’s counting on you to make sure there are no further incidents but it’s unlikely you can stop a train once it’s set in motion so just hope Mammon doesn’t come out of his room until he’s calmed down

Barbatos:

-The butler is a Time Lord so it’s probably no surprise to find out he already knew this was going to happen eventually

-Not like he believed Mammon was going to take his brothers’ insults for much longer anyway

-Being the quiet and observant demon he is, he’s been keeping a close eye on the Avatar of Greed knowing damn well he was going to lose his patience soon enough and go on the offence

-If he knew this was going to happen at such an important moment in time, he would’ve warned his majesty beforehand but he failed to see the potential catastrophe awaiting his breakdown

-Again, he has no right to intervene

-Unless, of course, Lord Diavolo asks him to do so but really the most he can do is give you tips on how to deal with miserable demons

-I mean, you’re the one that’s going to be stuck with them for the rest of the year and this isn’t the type of conflict that gets resolved too easily

-Barbatos is clever so if there is still bitterness between Mammon and his siblings after an amount of time passed, he might try to change timelines (with the permission of Diavolo)

-He’s had enough of Beel coming over to eat his cakes and cry about his older brother hating him (believe it or not, the butler is definitely a bit fond of the sixth eldest so his cries did pull at his heartstrings)

-Basically, in the same position as the Prince

-He relies on you to get them all to make up but he knows it’s not likely to happen any time soon

-For now, he’s getting ready for the chain reaction this fight set in motion because there was no easy way to end this, considering they’re all vicious demons and all

—————————————————————-

Al~ im mad I couldn’t add Simon, Luke and Solomon-I want to write for them too >:(

[waltnut]

Yes, I'm a THIRSTY, HORNY and DEHYDRATED bicht. But I am proud of myself. Can I request more NSFW head cannons of our monster boyfriend? But don't make it dark, maybe add some after segg cares if you want? I LOVE YOU.

Don’t make it dark?? Don’t you know what I’m about??? I can’t believe this.

No I’m joking lol well damn, NSFW? Okay well, this is for the Monster Fuckers so kiddies look away. I’m sorry to those who don’t like NsFw. I will tag it as “NSFT” for Not Safe for Timeline but I also hide it under the cut. I’m sorry. I had fun with this...now I’m embarrassed lmao You guys seem to like these so...

The prompt has me thrown a bit, but I’ll just make some stuff up, I hope that’s okay.

NSFW Headcanons - Monster Boyfriend edition: Demon Lords, Vol. 1

Adult content. These are demons. If this disturbs you, then stop reading here. Otherwise, enjoy?

Lucifer

Level 3

He sheds his feathers on his body when he’s nervous. MC makes him nervous when he’s like this. What do they think of him? Is he ugly? Would they call him a monster?

He’s the most submissive in this form. Gentle touches make him shiver and jump. He feels the most vulnerable and actively moves away from MC if they try to be intimate.

But he wants the intimacy. It’s reassuring. He’s still wanted. He actually might cry a bit. He’s sensitive, be nice.

MC will have to do most of the initiating. After the first time MC had had intimacy with him like this, he will be more confident the next times they engage in any sexual activity.

Level 4

All the pride and confidence. None of that level 3 sissy business, he will have you.

He’s very grabby, and maybe grips a little too tight. He likes the power of being stronger than you. He wants you to know it.

He seems to always have his wings as wide as he can make them. It must be some sort of mating dance. He does have that part bird instinct in there somewhere. He wants to show off, maybe intimidate you a bit. Does he like fear?

Might use the feathers on his tail to tickle you to make you squirm while he has you. What fun!

Mammon

Level 3

He is very clingy. He wants to always be touching you. Even if it’s just the tips of his wings or tail, he wants to have the physical touch.

As he goes through this level, his ability to sense any Greed from the MC to be highly erotic. Talking about buying those new clothes you’ve been wanting? Turn on. Saying how you’re gonna share any of them with him? He can’t contain himself.

He loves pets. Brushes against his hair, feathers, scales, will make him coo. Bird noises, gotta love them.

Easy seduction outfit, should you choose to wear one, anything shiny. Gold chains? Perfect. Sheer black clothes but with gold edges and designs? Also perfect. He can’t resist the shiny.

Level 4

Don’t even think about leaving him, until he lets you. You’re part of his treasure now and he will preen and polish you accordingly.

Lazy in this form, expect lots of cuddling with the dragon. He’s quite warm. The texture on his underside is soft like skin even though it looks like lizard scales. Don’t be surprised when you feel surprise boners while laying with him. He may be lazy, but he’s not tired.

Touching the skin texture of his body is a great seduction tactic should you need one. It’s the sensitive side to his body while the rest is covered in feathers and scales.

While he will dress up MC in gold as a mating ritual, should MC do the same to him, it is the greatest indicator that you are accepting his proposal for intimacy.

Leviathan

Level 3

Two dicks. Look we all know it. We all agree. Moving on.

Touching the purple frills on his ears is like touching his junk. It’s a highly erroneous zone for him. But be gently, they are very soft and sensitive.

Do you even lift? Well you might need to because he is going to be wrapped around you the entire time. He’s quite heavy and good luck getting out of that one.

Laying with him in water is the best way to show any intimate intentions. Even if you think it’ll be a relaxing chill in the water, think again.

Level 4

Now if you’re brave and choose to sleep with a giant ass sea monster, you’re in luck because he can manipulate water to allow you to breathe in the water.

He is the largest of all the brothers in terms of monster size. He’s a giant sea dragon. So be careful when dealing with...well, his size.

He likes to flip you around in the water, so staying in one position is not an option. It’s like a dance!

Want to know if he’s into it? Watch the orange fleshy bits on his sides. The more he glows the more you know!

Satan

Level 3

If you’re into having sex after yelling and screaming at each other then congrats! So is he. Angry sex is what he’s about. He’s wrath. I mean, come on.

Belittle him. No really. He’ll want to prove you wrong. Fuels the fire.

Extremely dominant. Don’t even try to top him. Also you just finished? No rest for you, you’re going again.

He’s gonna scratch and mark you. Bring some bandaids.

Level 4

Okay first of all, you really want to sleep with this? He’s terrifying. He is an actual hell spawn. Well okay, be prepared for selfish sex. He’s rough.

Want to know if he’s into it? Watch the flames on his back. Can you pass your hand through it without it burning you? You pass. It’ll grow brighter and larger the closer he is to finishing.

Most likely to choke you.

Will call you names during the act, sorry. The “not nice” kind.

Asmodeus

Level 3

Words are your biggest weapon. Constant love and adoration is all you need when he’s like this. You won’t even need to touch him to work the magic.

As the avatar of lust, he knows the human body of all genders. His genitalia resembles a males’ but it does have a clit on the bottom side of the head of the dick. You can get real creative with that.

Kiss and touch his ears! He loves it. They might flick at your touch, but he’s into it.

Is able to have his scorpion tails in this form if he chooses to, and he likes pushing and pulling you around with them.

Level 4

More of a Dom in this form. He also enjoys a good mess.

Don’t grab onto his tails, he’s not into it. But grabbing onto his mane? Go right ahead with that.

A little bitey. Vampire tendencies.

Most likely to try and sex you on the ceiling. Why? Not sure. But he’s able to do it so just roll with it.

Beelzebub

Level 3

Look at that long ass tongue. He’s gonna use it. Why wouldn’t he use it? You’re gonna want him to use it. The paralysis saliva he can produce is something he can choose to use.

Will jump on you out of nowhere. No literally, where did he come from? It’s 3 Am and everyone else is asleep. But a good smack will get him to stop if it’s unwanted. Bad puppy.

He might share his food with you if he’s offering intimacy. Like with his mouth. Like it might already be chewed a bit.

Chromeo lyrics: ((Don’t turn the lights on! I want to see you in the dark~.)) His eyes are sensitive, okay.

Level 4

You ever had sex with a Minotaur? You ever wanted to?

Will carry you off to a secluded area that he has found for himself. He doesn’t want to be disturbed.

The longer you go with him, the hotter his body feels. Just like when he feeds, he’ll have steam coming off his body.

Most likely to hump your leg.

Belphegor

Level 3

He enjoys you being uncomfortable. Emotionally or physically.

Sleep paralysis demon. Hey, at least you won’t be doing most of the work.

He’ll quietly hum a lullaby to you to see if you’ll accept his intimacy proposal. If you hum back, you accept. Careful, he might hum your favorite song.

His wool is so soft. Why is it so soft? You need to touch all of it.

Level 4

If you’re not banging irl, you will in your dreams.

You ever wanted to have sex in space? He can make the best magic Galaxy projector you’ve ever seen, and without the paid promotion!

His wool smells of soothing herbs and incense. So despite his creepy ass behavior, you find a way to calm your nerves.

You’ll have the best sleep you’ve ever had afterwards.

[drustvar]

Good Kitty

Portia eagerly provides entertainment for The Countess and her guest.

For Day 4 of the Midsummer Masquerade, Voyeurism  Contains: Voyeurism, m/f/f/, vaginal penetration, toys, praise, light flavors of pet play and size difference.  Pairing: Muriel / Nadia / Portia WC: 771 AN: This trio is really good together and deserves more attention. I hadn’t really planned to do more than 3 pieces this week but I just couldn���t resist lmao Full text under the cut! Will also be posted to ao3 later~♥

“You are welcome to go deeper and faster than that,” Nadia said as she watched the pair intently, her red eyes glittering with keen interest.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” Muriel’s voice was quiet, though his grip on Portia’s hips was firm and kept her in place. Portia watched as The Countess leaned over from her seat to tuck a stray auburn curl behind her ear.

“I think you will find that my kitten is quite resilient, isn’t she?” Nadia stroked Portia’s cheek as she mewled enthusiastically. She could hear Muriel grunt behind her and then slam hard into her, making her yelp. God, he was big. It hurt in the best way and she could tell The Countess intended to enjoy every minute of watching her squirm and wail.

“Very nice,” Nadia relaxed back in her seat, one of her manicured hands settling between her thighs. “Remember that you have my full permission to use her however you like.”

“Thanks.”

Portia half moaned, half yelped as Muriel pulled her hips flush against his and bottomed out in her. She bit her lip, hands clenching the sheet beneath them in her fists as he pumped rhythmically in and out. One of his big hands still firmly gripped her thigh while the other trailed idly down her back, gently pushing her hair out of the way. She chanced a look at her mistress; Nadia had reclined in her chair, her eyes heavily lidded as her elegant fingers brushed against her clit. Portia couldn’t help but whine. If The Countess would move just a bit closer she could bury her face between her thighs where it belonged. The thought of getting to service her while being railed made her whimper happily.

“Just a moment, my dear lovers,” Nadia murmured as she drew her hands away from herself and began to rummage through a small, ornate chest next to her. Portia whined softly as Muriel slowed. She rolled her hips hungrily back against him, but he just gently hushed her, his thick fingers trailing down her spine. They both watched Nadia curiously; Portia felt a flutter of excitement as she thought about what her mistress might pull out of the chest. The thought of a ball gag or a leash for her collar made her clench needily.

The Countess knelt in front of her, an elegantly sculpted glass dildo in her hands. The flecks of gold that were inlaid in the glass glittered in the low light.

“Prepare this for me.”

Nadia had hardly even pressed it to Portia’s lips before she eagerly took it into her mouth, running her tongue over the glass and trying to coat it with as much saliva as she could. She couldn’t keep from moaning on the length as Muriel rocked into her.

“Very good,” Nadia’s voice was soft as she smiled down at her, fingers tracing up Portia’s cheek into her hair to straighten the cat ears she wore. “She’s so well behaved, isn’t she?”

Muriel grunted in agreement as he tangled his fingers in her hair and tilted her head back. The Countess held her chin and slowly took the toy from her mouth, never once breaking their held gaze.

“Excellent work as always, Portia,” Nadia said as she admired the way it glistened. Portia mewled happily and wriggled. The Countess patted her head before returning to her seat and motioning for them to continue. And God, did he. Muriel pulled almost completely out before slamming hard back into her. Portia wailed as he carefully, but firmly, pressed her shoulders down and pulled her ass higher up against him. Through half shut eyes she watched Nadia biting her lip and tracing her own entrance, waiting for just the right moment to penetrate herself.

“Would it be possible,” when The Countess spoke her voice was husky, her tone like warm honey. “For you to hold her up? I would love to see my kitten used like a toy.”

Portia couldn’t help but moan as she was pulled backwards and lifted, a strong  arm circled around her abdomen and another gripping her hip. It was almost too much, being lifted up and down on his cock like that, he was so, so deep.

“She wants to see your face,” Muriel’s voice was a deep rumble in her ear as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. With a little help, she managed to raise her head to watch as The Countess started fucking herself. If the look in her eyes was anything to go by, Portia could tell the night was going to be exhaustingly, wonderfully long.

[mayullla]

Title: Under the rain

Character(s): Kakashi Hatake (Naruto)

Summary: (Request) You were crying under the rain till Kakashi found you.

Warnings/tags: Fem!reader, slight yandere themes

pit pat, pit pat.

Kakashi was walking by when he heard small sniffles.. reminded of his students he heads to check it out only to see... you.

You hid your chakra so as not to be noticed by others and the rain washed the scent trail that usually Kakashi was able to pick up. He hovered the umbrella under you to hide you from the rain as you did not acknowledge him and continued to cry.

After a while Kakashi was able to take you to his home, he didn't want to leave you in the rain in fear that you might get sick from being exposed under it for too long. He let you use his shower, as you used his shampoo and soup as the man both were or no brands didn't have much of a smell on them.

You were the same really as on missions having a scent unique to you was a dangerous thing if possible. If you have a career as a shinobi it would be best not to have scented things that could pull you apart from others.

Kakashi gave you a towel also handed you a t-shirt and sweatpants that also belong to him. Which you gratefully took and wore his clothes as yours were in the washing machine.

Walking out the bathroom you saw that Kakashi was preparing cups of coffee and was resting alone on the couch. He looked at you, his lower face hidden with his mask but you know he was smiling from the crinkle on the side of his eye.

“Coffee?” He asked, you nodded, taking the coffee from him and taking a sip, taking a seat beside him but not near him, staying at the edge. “Thank you, Kakashi. I am sorry to bother you too much like this.” You thank the man.

The man hummed, shaking his head “Don't worry too much about it ____. But are you doing alright? Do you want to talk about it?” He asked in concern.

You tried to deny it but anybody could notice that something was wrong, not when someone who was always serious and straightforward suddenly breaks down and cries like that. He asked again and this time you answered, unable to make any excuses really.

Besides you want somebody to talk to so why not take this chance.

You told him how people were either intimidated by you because you were always so quiet, your friends think you are boring because you don't bring your thought to the table and today you heard your close friend talking behind your back that you were a headache to converse and that she is tired with how annoying that you never really thought of her as much as she does to you.

And that is not true! You cared about her, you loved to listen to her with her strong opinions, how she would care for you when others didn't. Dear, you are such a horrible person that you never think about what others think. Maybe you should have done better why can't you do anything right. Maybe you deserve the backstabbing maybe you were not supposed to have any fr-

“____… ____.. ____!!”

You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at Kakashi in surprise when he placed his hand on your shoulders looking at you worriedly. His eyes stared at yours in concern and care that it made you relax a bit.

You don't talk much and today was the first time in a while that you spoke this much, you feel your voice dry a bit and you gulped your saliva down to help it even just a bit.

“Why…” You asked, you don't know what you were asking. Why do people hate you just for not being able to express yourself like others? Why are you like this? Why Kakashi.. Why do you care this much?

Kakashi must have figured out what your thoughts were as if he knew you better than you knew yourself.

“Y/n you are a fine person, with a heart of gold. I know you care about your friends and family and that you will never abandon them. I saw you care for your friends, don't you remember that time when we saw a small kitten on the road hurt you took it back home and nursed it before letting them go.” Kakashi said to you, he continued to speak about the little things that you have done for your friends, like that time you made stew for your sick friends or the times when you stressed about the presents that your friends may not like but really they adored it a lot.

“You may come across as serious or even cold sometimes, but you mean well. People who can't see it are blind if not a bit selfish. But you are trying and most are fools for not being able to see it.” Kakashi said to you, his thumb rubbing circles on your shoulder in comfort as he pulled you into a hug.

You took his warmth, hugging the man back in search of physical contact. You didn't realize what the man said, a few of them weren't something that he should know, nor did you see the sharpness on his gaze that plans to kill which quickly turned to obsession. Looking at your wet hair knowing that the two of you shared the same shampoo, the tshirt and sweatpants that you wore that belonged to him. It was as if he marked you as his.

“You are perfect.” He whispered, something you didn't hear nor the hug that grew tighter around you.

[yuzukult]

Oh my gold! I really love your series From Home. This is actually one of my fav and I tend to reread it a lot. Thank you for sharing this wonderful masterpiece! And also, can I ask for a drabble from "From Home" where Jungkook will finally ask her to marry him- Thank you! 💖

— a from home drabble 03 title: donut rings word count: 1,322 prompt: when jungkook proposes. warnings: none! pg clean baby. some bad words tho. a/n: as requested!! i... sat on this for a while!! sorry. i got distracted and somehow it got lost in the depths of my other docs. :D hopefully this is good enough for you guys !! :D

“You’re doing it all wrong,” you snap, snatching the dough from Jungkook’s hand while rolling your eyes. “With those muscles, I thought you’d be better at kneading it harder.”

Jungkook smiles, a hearty laugh escaping from his chest as he shakes his head at your reaction. You’re still impatient, oftentimes shoving him out of the kitchen when he attempts to put effort in lending a hand, but you’re strict about him entering your “zone.” He’s doing his best though; he’s learned to make pasta (using the uncooked pasta from boxes in supermarket aisles and not freshly made dough that you prefer), and even cook rice in the rice cooker.

But spontaneously, he thought that teaching himself (or well, watching the Food Network show him) how to make homemade donuts from scratch would impress you. After all, just because you got the girl doesn’t mean you suddenly stop trying.

“I thought you weren’t going to be home until later,” he grins widely, cheeks and forehead smeared with flour, not to mention the dust that sprinkles across his apron and even onto his t-shirt underneath. “I wanted to surprise you.”

You scoff. “Surprise me with a messy kitchen?” Clicking your tongue, you nudge him to the side with your hip. “Sounds more like you’re asking me to get all pissy.”

Jungkook walks over from behind, snaking his arms around your frame while nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. “I wanted to do something for you since you’ve been so swamped at work lately. Wouldn’t it be nice if you came home to your hot shot boyfriend making donuts?”

Sighing, you roll out the dough to be half an inch thick before reaching over for your donut cutter. “No. Especially when he’s doing it wrong. What’s the point of doing this if you’re just gonna fuck it up?”

Sometimes, your words can come off harsh. But Jungkook knows the love behind it, because there’s a lot of it and your actions are there to show it. The upgraded apartment the two of you share, to the furniture you bought together, and to those date nights that occur at least once a week, something you and him had collectively put a plentiful amount of into, Jungkook can confirm your love is real.

“Baby,” he calls you out warmly with that infatuated look on his face. “There’s obviously a learning curve. Gimme some time, will you?”

What really softens you is the way he still kisses your shoulder lovingly, disregarding your sharp tone because he can differentiate when you’re actually mad and when you’re just nagging. It slowly tugs a slight smile upon your lips, and the way the corner twitches signals Jungkook that he’s broken the barrier.

“How about we fry them together? That way you can see if I’m doing it wrong and correct me.”

“Fine.”

It’s a repeated and revisited lesson that Jungkook learns—home is not always physically a place, but sometimes and more often than not, is found in a person. A physical home is just a shelter, someplace where home is located.

And it’s you. You’re home.

He thinks about times he’s studied abroad, lived in Busan, at the estate, his old apartment and now here, how he’s lived in so many places but none of them felt like… this. This is what home is, and Jungkook would be an idiot to not tie it down while he can.

“Mingyu is engaged,” Jungkook casually mentions the name of a coworker he’s been spending a lot of time with lately while cautiously observing your reaction to the news. You don’t budge. “He’s been… waiting to propose for her for a while, and although she never stated the time, he figured he would guess and he did well… obviously.”

“Mmm,” you hum, unamused and not entirely listening. “Congrats to him.”

“Which brings the question—“

“When are we getting engaged?”

Jungkook freezes when you lift your head up to lock with his eyes, stunned at the boldness of your question. He was going to ease his way into the topic, but you’re faster than him.

Silent, he isn’t quite sure what to say. You’ve left him speechless, buffering like a YouTube video that refuses to load.

“Well?”

“I—“ he’s stuttering over his own words. “Well, yeah, I sorta wanted to know that.”

By now, there are a couple of donuts that have been fried and cooled, resting on top of a rack on the counter, and they’re starting to look tempting for reasons other than for eating. “Well, would you like to get married?”

He gives you that ‘you-know-the-answer’ look, but the expression you counter back with has him caving into defeat to give a straightforward answer. “Of course I want to marry you. You know I have—it’s never not crossed my mind. But I know how you are. You’re in no rush to do any of that, and that’s totally fine, I can wait—”

“Okay, let’s get married.”

Choking on his own saliva, it takes him a couple minutes to regain his breathing back to normal, but you continue to stand there, blinking blankly with metal tongs in hand as the donuts fry in a pool of oil in the pan. It’s a blunt way to execute a deeply important question like that, but coming from you, there doesn’t seem to be any stress or burden that carries with it that it normally does when people prepare to ask.

“What?”

“You want to get married. Let’s get married.”

“But you don’t want to get married.”

Grabbing a donut off the metal rack, you peek through the hole in the middle to glance at your awfully confused boyfriend, standing there in complete confusion at your unpredictable actions.

“Jeon Jungkook, you may think I don’t want to get married, and you’re sort of right. I don’t,” his shoulders drop at this revelation, admittingly disappointed by your confession, but you’re not done just yet. “But… I met you, and frankly, I still didn’t want to get married. When we started dating, I can’t exactly say that I felt like I was ready to get married, or the thought ever crossed my mind but… especially lately, I… I don’t know. It’s not like we have to get married but I like the idea of that for us.”

“So…” He chews on his bottom lip anxiously. “Does this mean…”

“Whenever you’re ready to get married, I’m ready.”

Face bright, Jungkook straightens himself in excitement. “Well, if you say it like that, it makes me wanna get married now.” Eyes skimming the room, nothing quite catches his eyes until he spots the donuts sitting on the rack. “How about…” Grabbing one, he peeks at you through the hole this time, taking your hand in his.

“My finger isn’t that big.”

“We can get the jewelers to readjust the size.”

A mischievous smile on his face, he can’t help but still push the donut onto your ring finger and hold it up into the light. “So, does this mean we can for real for real get married? I can call that jewelry store and set up an appointment. This… this is nice but… I wanna get you something better.”

Examining the donut that splits your fingers far apart in size, you can’t help but let out a laugh. “I guess that would be more appropriate and sustainable than a donut on my finger.”

“Well, you still look pretty nonetheless,” he says cheekily, holding your hand against his chest, just above his heart. “But you’re right. A donut would start molding.”

“Not to mention fall apart. It’s already crumbling because we’re moving so much.”

“Mm. Least our love isn’t crumbling.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Jungkook.”

With a kiss pressed to your palm, he smiles warmly into it. “I love you.”

And with a swollen, threatening to burst heart, Jungkook’s favorite phrase spills from your lips.

“Love you too.”

[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea

Star Wars, The Bad Batch Pirate!au (Hunter x Reader

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers dad and bothered are asses.

Chapter one: The Sentencing

Fate, you had decided, fucked you over. Which in itself, was not only a very unladylike statement, but was also very ironic. But how fitting for a woman of your time, to want something her whole life only to be told she couldn’t have it by the most infuriating of men. For passion to be pushed into a corset and cinched into fake smiles and batting eyelashes.

Everyone has a value, never mind how little or much, everyone is worth something. And you are worth a great deal to me.

At the time you’d thought your fathers words were a statement of affection, love brought to light by goblets of rum only to settle in your lap as you tended to the fireplace and did your best to lead him into his bed, staggering every step of the way. It was now that you understood his words. The choice of word may have been valuable, but the more accurate synonym, dowry explained his true intentions.

Enter one Lord Volim Nython, a pretentious man with a mind that was far more shallow than his pockets and a reputation to match. What Lord Nython did not already possess, he bought. And what he was without currently, was a wife. He was a man with a personality inked in gunpowder and steel, crushing his enemies in the war that made his predecessors and your fathers fortunes.

A very fitting match. Oh how quaint, the wedding would be so grand, and the children, oh they will be beautiful. The distinct lack of sincerity infuriated you, older women with tea parties akin to that of toddlers and the gloved hands they rest on their chests as they shake their heads at the utmost ridiculous things. While the tautly curled hair stays perfectly in place, rage resided in you at an unfathomable height. But, it was not without its reins, and as its rider, you had to lead your rage onto a path that would result in your success.

You chose this night carefully, knowing that it was on the last of every month, when the money came in from gambling, debts and the crown, that your father quite literally liquified his earnings. You shiver in your nightgown, every fireplace in the house was still burning, and the oil lamps were flickering away, though the household was asleep save for yourself. The main doors shifted open as the intoxicated man made his way in. And you steady yourself before greeting him.

“A good night, I'll take it then?” You ask with a breath of a laugh, wrapping a shivering arm arm around his shoulders and leading him over to the plush sitting chairs by the fire. He waves you off when you offer him water and so you sit on your knees by his feet. Grasping his hands on your own. He regards you with a suspicious look.

“I… I wanted to ask you something.” You start carefully, eyeing his look. The rug is warm from the flame and the way it illuminates his face, you wonder how many times your mother sat with him like this, or how often he looked at her in such confusion.

“Well? Get on with it then.” He slurs leaning further back into the red velvet. Causing you to shift and bunch your nightgown.

“I wanted to ask if, if you thought, the lord...”

“Lord Nython.” He confirms, watching you jump as the fire crackles, your nerves electrified by what you mean to bring up next. And it gives away your intentions before you can ask them. After all, your father may know you better than you had originally thought.

“Do not tell me what I think you are about to do.” he warns tilting his head down so the orange light reflects the way he regards you through his brow.

“I think we could make a better match.” You try and appeal to his motivations. “I think we stand to make a better-”

“I’ve been given offers.” He interrupts, the liquor making him less angry and more level headed as you had intended it to. “No one will wed you for the price Lord Nython will.” He moves to stand, the conversation finished, but you are not, having given yourself a stern word of not settling until you are free from the man's clutches.

“There are richer men outside of Coruscant.” You say with more force than you had intended. The translucent fabric whooshing as you stand. Your father pauses at the helm of the stairs, like a Blurg righting itself after an unsuccessful charge, he is listening.

“Naboo royalty, even a low Alderanian Lord would double Nythons offer.” You take cautious steps forward, hoping that his underestimation of your intelligence works in your favor.

“Those men are oceans away, Nython will wed you tomorrow if the crown gave its blessing.” He counters, but it is not a dismissal.

“Consider this an investment then, the payoff would surely be worth it.” You press carefully, like a healer tending to an inflammation, you palpate the area with caution looking to avoid the most sensitive of the inflamed tissue. Your father huffs.

“Providing you could snag a suitable man.” Hope flickers within you, and it warms you more than the fire ever could, it makes you feel power, and control. And hope, like it does with most, makes you foolish.

“Love is a powerful motivator.”

His booming drunk laugh shakes you, fear flooding you as you realize your mistake. But you were so close! So tantalizingly close to being free from the wretched man.

“You think men marry for love?” You see him wipe away tears of laughter as he sways on the dark oak staircase of your home. “You my dear, are even more dull than I thought.” You shake with anger and anxiety.

“I want to be in love! Like you an-”

“Do not say you mother and I. Ha. You are truly delusional.” He interrupts, taunting you with drunken laughter. Your father never speaks of your mother, and when he did it was pushed aside in favor of something else. But alcohol has a way of loosening tongues.

“I… I-” you stammer, if there was one thing you remembered about your mother it was the love she shared with your father and the stories of growing up and falling into a love so pure with someone it made your heart ache for it.

“We were not in love, she despised me, and I her.” He spits from his place on the stairs. The height difference adds to how small you feel. How his pitiful stare shrinks you and sends chills into your bones.

“I do not under-“ He interrupts again:

“It was an act! Pretend! Meant to fool young girls into thinking they could have a life as such. And even in death she continues to lie to you!” You blink away tears and think, you try to think he is lying, that they were happy, she was happy, and that in his intoxication your father lies.

“She was adamant that we would be in love for you.” He sighs, and drops to the stairs to sit and lean on the railing. “That we would keep up pretences for your sake so that you would strive for such happiness.” With his words it is as if he is taking away the core memories of your mother.

“I will not marry that man.” You have to push the words out, but the meaning is clear enough.

“Yes.” Your father says ever so sternly. “You will.”

“I shall not!” You fight back, hating how your eyes cloud with tears and emotions bubble up. “He looks at me like one does cattle, I am nothing more than a trade deal to that man!” both parties know you are right, from the first meeting when he had stalked around you, looking up and down, tutting here, humming there. Not engaging in any conversation that you’d deem intellectual or interesting. You’d been disgusted then, and you are still disgusted now.

“Please!” Your father wipes drunken saliva from his chin, “Lord Nython is giving us so much gold for your hand in marriage you should be grateful, and a renowned war hero like himself. You will wed that man even if i have to drag you to the altar.” You’re stunned, and horrified, and your father leaves you weeping on the dark oak stairs, a mess for one of the maids to clean up before he wakes in the morning.

Tag list: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st3r @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid

comment to be added!

[metalheadcowboy]

I want all your Olympic Harringrove thoughts please ESPECIALLY them testing the limits of the sexproof beds! 💋👌 BIG BRAIN idea right there! (Only if you wanna share ofc!)

(and ooh with skateboarding in the Olympics I am getting ideas about scruffy skaterboy Billy and fancy dressage boy Steve...)

🍒

AHHHH OKAY OKAY OKAYA HEHHEHHEE

First I have a lot of just random hcs about accommodations and stuff,,,

- While eating Steve always sits across from Billy and puts his hand up to the plexiglass separating them due to COVID and pretends like they’re in a rom com movie where Billy’s leaving him. He’ll put on a fake frown, think up some dialogue and everything all while Billy rolls his eyes, trying desperately to hide the amused smirk at he chews on his food.

- There’s no partying in the Olympic Village and alcohol has to be contained to athletes rooms, so the night after they bring home the gold they stay up late in their room having their own little two person party with whatever random alcohol they could think to put in their bags before leaving, and what didn’t get confiscated at the airport. (this also happens to be the night they break the bed but I’ll get to that later.)

- Their coach has gotten on to them many times for sliding down their masks for a millisecond to steal a quick kiss so they start making a point to kiss through their masks. One time even pretending to make out through the masks, laughing uncontrollably when they’re pulled away from each other in a fit of confusion and disgust. Sure their masks are now soaked in their own spit but it was kinda worth it.

- They have to get tested daily for COVID and every time they take Billy’s saliva he jokes and says that the governments gonna clone him and make the perfect Olympic team. Then it’s Steve’s turn to roll his eyes.

- As they’re leaving the Tokyo games there are people distributing condoms, which Steve finds hilarious ironic hence the sex-proof beds. And yet they go home and use every single one of them just for the hell of it. Billy posts a picture of the open condom on his Twitter and says “Take that Tokyo“

- Surprisingly Billy and Steve don’t have sex until their medal is won, or penetrative sex I should say. They’ve done just about everything else though 😂

-Steve can’t count the amount of times he’s woken up to Billy grinding against his ass sometimes awake sometimes asleep and he’s just let it be, or even ground back because the guy works damn hard and honestly deserves it.

- When they win Billy and Steve bite different sides of the same gold medal, the press gets a real kick out of that

- During training and practice they get into more tussles than they care to admit. Billy getting frustrated with Steve because his entry on the dives are late. Steve getting pissed off because Billy doesn’t care as much about technique or the finer details. But they never go to sleep mad, sleep in different beds, sure, but Steve always breaks the tension by kneeling next to Billy’s bed as he’s trying to go to sleep, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead and telling him that he loves him.

-Billy also gets pissed with himself a lot when he messes up and has many self destructive tendencies he reverts to when he gets frustrated with himself, so Steve sometimes has to just sit him down and talk him up or work him through some breathing exercises to calm him down.

I was hcing synchronize diver Harringrove but SKATEBOARDING HARRINGROVE???? HOW DID I MISS THAT YOU’RE A GENIUS!!!

Billy with loads of tattoos in streetwear, messy curls a little longer pulled into a bun midway up the back of his head in some beat up sneakers 😭😭

And Steve fucking dressed to impress, like not dressy but wearing expensive brands to the point where Billy thinks he’s a spoiled brat meanwhile Steve is making total heart eyes at this scruffy skater pulling out moves he could only dream of doing ❤️

ALSO SHIT I KNOW YOU WANTED TO HEAR ABOUT THE BED BUT I HABE ANOTHER ASK SO BED FIC TO COME I PROMISE AKSNDNNDJJF

[koko-bopp]

Cops & Robbers

park jimin x male!reader

word count - 3K

genre - SMUT

contains - MALE GENITALIA MENTIONS, kinda soft-dom!reader, bottom!jimin, unprotected sex, little bit of dirty talk, talking about consent and safewords, handcuffs, blowjobs, fingering, missionary anal, aftercare, plot twist ending

synopsis - You've been dating Jimin for a while, you're both everything the other could want. But Jimin isn't all that he appears; especially with your job as a police officer, you thought you'd be better at spotting it.

"Do you like it?" Jimin asks, a knowing smirk on his face, one that you've come to learn that meant Jimin was going to get exactly what he wants. The robe he was wearing dropping to the floor, revealing the white lingerie wrapping well around his sun-kissed skin. It made him look so elegant and so desirable, he spoils you like this a lot, almost making you wonder how you scored just a selfless boyfriend. "It's all for you, officer," he purs.

You couldn't help yourself to lick your lips, Jimin using your occupation as leverage to feed both his and your craving. It takes you a second, maybe a blink, but you drop your jacket to the floor, kicking off your shoes and head over to your boyfriend, carefully pushing him on the bed behind him so he was lying on his back. "You look beautiful," You express, watching a gasp leave his lips as you drag your hand down his curves.

"You look tired," Jimin pouts, bringing his hands up to your hair, slowly bringing them down to cup your cheeks, "Do you wanna talk about it first? Is it that thief again?"

"It's ridiculous, the amount of paperwork I need to go through because of him," you chuckle a bit, leaning down to place kisses along Jimin's jaw, "We don't even know what he looks like, there's a partial fingerprint at the last bank; but I honestly don't think it'll lead anywhere.."

Jimin sighs when you reach up to kiss his lips, using the back of his index finger to trace down your cheekbone, before pulling away to look at you with sympathy, "I'll fight him myself if he keeps overworking my baby like this."

You didn't stop yourself from laughing, pressing a kiss on his lips again, "Baby, can I go rougher today? I'm just... I'm just really frustrated.."

Jimin nods, "Of course," his eyes not illustrating any sign of discomfort. You had that transparency with your boyfriends, you could be honest with each other, and it was something you appreciate. Jimin's gaze drops to your wrist, the glistening from the moon outside hitting the gold and silver, "You're still wearing it?"

You look down too, furrowing your brows, "Why wouldn't I? You bought it for me. I even told you not to get me a birthday present."

Jimin grinned, a little smirk on his lips as he brought himself up a bit to bring your faces closer, invisible thoughts going on through the blonde's head as he pushed his hips against yours, watching you bite your lip; taking the opportunity to properly pin Jimin to the bed, hovering over your boyfriend with the moon hitting his skin like he was an angel of a sort.

"What's the safeword, honey?" You ask, tracing your hand down Jimin's body, watching him shiver at the contact.

The word you were looking for came out as a broken moan as you had begun placing kisses down your boyfriend's neck, the reactions his body would provide were immaculate in your eyes. His body would jolt upon you touching, licking or sucking all the places you'd memorised.

Yourself and Jimin have been dating for almost a year, you had met him at the scene of a bank heist. He was shaking and crying when you'd seen him, not the best way to meet the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, but the world works in mysterious ways. Jimin also worked at the bank, his job took up a lot of his time when you two first started seeing each other but so did you job; catching bad guys and all. However, you and Jimin made it work, he likes to spoil you a lot even though you try to reject his advances; how could you say no to such a beautiful face.

"F-fuck, officer–" Jimin moans, you smirk against his chest as you had begun palming his crotch, feeling the muscle grow more underneath your touch as Jimin enjoys the pleasure.

"On your knees, kitten. Bring your hands in front." You get off the bed, standing up while your boyfriend fixes himself to sit on his knees and look at you. Carefully taking off the handcuffs from your belt, unlocking them the way you were taught, and followed by slithering the metal on your boyfriend's wrists. They glisten around the skin, the contrast looking almost majestic, "That's a good boy," you grin, a little gasp escaping from Jimin's lips as you grip his chin, forcing him to look up at you, "Now suck your officer's cock, honey."

With your help, Jimin undid your pants, using his teeth to pull down the zipper, never leaving your gaze or dropping eye contact. The sense of authority you illustrated making him hard and leak.

"Fuck," you groan, furrowing your brows as Jimin excitedly licks from the base right to the tip. Looking at you with puppy eyes, getting a rise out of the sounds you make. But you reach up to grip onto your boyfriend's hair, "Do it properly, baby. I want my dick down your throat."

You caught your boyfriend grinding down on the mattress, "Yes, officer," Jimin immediately coats his lips in saliva and taking your full length into his mouth.

Your job always required you to be firm, it was a surprise to Jimin to see how gentlemanly you were. The first time you two had sex, it was passionate and dirty, you'd bought him to your place, promised him he could moan as loud as he liked. The night was followed by breakfast at midnight and Jimin being treated like a prince, he could comfortably say he thought about marrying you at that moment.

The moans spilling from your mouth with how far he was taking you was music to his ears. Jimin loved pleasing you, probably just as much as being pleased by you.

There was saliva falling from the centre of his lips at he sucked on your cock, falling to the floor as you couldn't help but bite your lip at the sight; Jimin's eyes tearing with how far down his throat you were. "M-mhm, Can't my baby take it anymore?" Jimin nodded his head, mouth full but he tried his best to push himself further. You watched him grind on the mattress, his dick peaking through the white lingerie, leaking with precum and practically erect. You couldn't help but chuckle breathily, "You got hard sucking my dick, didn't you? You greedy, greedy pet."

Jimin's stomach knots at your words, the arousal dripping from your mouth as you pushed Jimin's head to take the entire length, his blonde strands flying through the grip you had on his hair and his eyes welling from gagging on your cock. He loved this, being so far from in control, using him to make you feel good, the way you were groaning and biting your lip, the uniform making you look so attractive.

"S-shit, baby, you want me to cum in your mouth? Huh? You want my cum down your throat?" You asked, clearly rhetorical, but Jimin eagerly nodded his head, sucking harder to fulfil your needs as you furrowed your brows at how sexy your boyfriend looked. He's so pretty like this, lips apart to take everything, "Hm, you better swallow like a good boy."

Jimin's eyes gloss prettily, cum falling from the corner of his lips, the crimson eyeshadow he had on smudging from the few tears that tumbled off his cheek.

Your chest was heaving, a grin on your lips at the sight of your boyfriend. You graze your thumb against the skin of his cheek, providing Jimin with a sense of comfort followed by a kiss on his forehead, "Do you want your reward?"

"Y-yes– yes officer," Jimin's eyes beamed.

"Hm, you're so hard for me, baby," You snicker, carefully pushing Jimin back so he was lying down with his leaking dick for you to see. You smirk, roughly cupping Jimin's crotch only to watch him arch his back with a loud moan erupting sinfully. "How embarrassing, honey. You go so aroused from just sucking my cock?"

Jimin's hips were slowly grinding up, he had no way to stop himself, he was becoming so desperate with your teasing, "Officer," he looks away shyly, raising his hands above his head, "Please... Please fuck me. I want you so so bad.."

You lick your lips, grabbing the lube sitting on the bed and placing just enough on your cock for Jimin's comfort, though not before getting on top of him to hook his legs around your waist. Jimin took the moment to bring his hands down to unbutton your navy shirt, but he didn't make it all that far because you gripped his wrist to pin them above his head. His brows furrowed at you, but you kiss his lips to take the pout away, "Be good for me, baby. I wanna hear you scream."

Moans were spilling from Jimin's mouth as you fucked into him with ease, the bed creaking ever so slightly each time you thrust. Your unoccupied hand moving to grab his hips to get much closer to him, making sure his ass was meeting the hilt of your cock, that he was feeling absolutely everything and that he knew you had every bit of dictation over his orgasm. "O-oficer! Nghh–!" He cried, his breath hitching every time you pounded back into him.

"Louder, baby, let the neighbours know how good your man fucks you," you taunt with your breath against his ear, groans emitting from you with how much pleasure Jimin was providing.

Your boyfriend bites his lip as he accidentally bucks upon your cock hitting his prostate, "Officer! Ah! Baby, right there! Please please please–"

Doing as he asks, you position yourself at that angle, muffling Jimin's cried with your lips, letting your chests heave against each other. The atmosphere clouds with passion and dedication as you feel Jimin clench around your length, "Shit, you gonna cum, baby? You gonna cum all over Officer's cock?"

Jimin frantically nods, his eyes barely keeping themselves open with how fogged up his mind is, just the feeling of your dick thrusting into him and how good it feels occupying his entire consciousness, "P-please."

"Of course, baby."

The moment it shared with Jimin arching his back and you burying your head into his shoulder, kissing down to suppress grunts as your boyfriend spilled cum all over his stomach. You watched his whole body tremble at the sensation of the orgasm, his hole barely letting go of your cock as you pulled out carefully.

"I got you, you did so well for me," you press kisses on Jimin's cheeks as you undo the handcuffs, throwing them to the side as Jimin cracked a small smile at your antics.

"You made me feel good too," he grinned with tired eyes, wrapping his arms around your neck as soon as you'd wiped the cum off his stomach and you couldn't help but place a peck on his nose. "I'm sorry, baby, but could I have some water...?"

You rolled your eyes, kissing his lips once again, "Of course," you reply softly, "Wait here."

A little, happy smile on your lips as you fix up your pants and head downstairs to cater to your boyfriend. It was remarkable that you would literally jump off a plane for Jimin if he asked you to, you really loved him and he always finds a way to make you smile; how could you not love him.

A playful whistle flies through your lips and echoes through the dark kitchen. You could still find your way around it since the space wasn't pitch black, reaching to grab the cup from the shelf and using the filtered water-tap as you patiently wait for the glass to fill; though the sound of your mobile phone in your pocket cuts your soft whistle.

"[L/N] speaking," you answer, turning off the water tap now that the glass was full.

"Sorry for calling so late, [Y/N], it's Kim," the sound of your supervisor's voice emitting from the other end of the phone got rid of your casual behaviour, your back straightened itself out of reflex as Namjoon spoke, "I wouldn't call unless it was urgent; there's been a breakthrough in the Jeon Bank case and I felt it would be more appropriate to tell you now than later."

You furrowed your brows as you kept the phone at your ear, "No need to apologise, I'm all ears."

Namjoon started; "Amongst the thousands of dollars that were stolen, we can honestly conclude that the heist was impressive. The only thing that didn't make sense was amongst the money, the thieves took a more tangible item," Namjoon explained, you could hear the male flip through papers on his desk while you listened carefully, "[Y/N], a watch was stolen."

"A watch?"

"And not just any watch, a Patek Philippe in white-gold. It's worth up to 21 million dollars and the Jeon family purchased it, they didn't think it would go missing because it was in the vault hidden in a door behind the money."

You bought the tip of your thumb in between your teeth in thought, "Sir, are you saying the money was just a distraction?"

"That's what I'm thinking."

Patek Philippe... Why did that sound familiar? You're not in much of a position to be surfing for watches on the web, especially when you can just tell the time on your phone, but the name didn't sound distant.

It was when your eyes met a branded name on your watch.

Patek Philippe. White-gold.

No. "Sir, when was the date of the heist?"

Namjoon read out the numbers to you, and it you felt a whole stab in your chest to learn that it was exactly a week before your birthday. You practically heard Namjoon's concern over the phone, "[Y/N], are you alright?" Jimin wasn't working that day either... He told you he was headed for a job interview in Gangnam... He didn't call you that whole day.

That happened three times the whole year you two had been dating.

You met Jimin at a bank. At the bank the first heist Seoul had in the longest time.

No.

No way. It can't be Jimin, he's sweet, he's funny, he's smart. He's the most loving boyfriend you could ask for. He's not capable of something like that.

"Baby?" Speak of the devil. You turn to find Jimin standing at the doorway of the kitchen, you hadn't even realised that you had dug your nails into the palm of your hand, you could only watch Jimin's lips move as you could barely make out the words. "Is everything okay?"