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biffhofosho · 2 years

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The Heat of the Night

Fandom: Monsta X

Genre: Smut, natch.

Word Count: 9.4k

Pairing: I.M x OC

Trope: Rivals to lovers

Synopsis: When the Bastard Demon of Gomorrah clashes with the Hellion of Hades, the bedroom becomes a battlefield where only one can come out on top.

The Vibe: Incubus meets succubus, sex demons who think too highly of themselves, an unforgettable showdown in the Middle Ages leads to a highly anticipated reunion, demons being demons but also experiencing things they’re not supposed to feel, banter and baiting, loads of overt sexuality, basically the whole thing is sex lmao, seduction, sexual favors for trade, chains, paralytic venom because demon, various other demon anatomy heh, battles for dominance, multiple supernatural orgasms lol, rough sex morphs into something else, false confidence and existential crises, a demon love story???

A/N: Well, uh, this… This did not go as I had planned, but I was feeling feelings I guess. Inspired by Jackson Wang’s most excellent video, “Cruel,” because that shit changed my life. Happy Halloween, little demons!

Changkyun leans over the foot of tonight’s bed. The feet beneath the thin sheets are already writhing in some unseen dance. The soft shifting sets a backing track to the refrain of ragged gasps echoing up from the pillow.

His eyes are red, filled with a ring of fire the same way his limbs are. He feels powerful. He feels energized. He’s ready for anything.

Except the clawed hands that encircle his neck from behind.

“Well, well, well,” says a raspy voice in his ear, “if it isn’t the Bastard Demon of Gomorrah. I haven’t seen you since the Black Plague.”

It might have been 700 years, but Changkyun hasn’t forgotten that voice. He stiffens in the grip of those claws.

“Not long enough,” he rasps in return, though his own voice is shaped not by his natural tone but by the pressure on his windpipe.

One hand releases his throat to thump his chest, which echoes hollowly in the bedroom. “I see absence hasn’t made the heart grow fonder then.”

“What heart?” he mocks.

Slowly, the other hand around his neck unwinds and air rushes back into his lungs. It wouldn’t have killed him of course, but it also wouldn’t have stopped her from trying.

“What are you doing here, Changkyun?” the interloper asks in a familiar tone, as deep and textured as velour.

“Same as you, I expect. Dinner.”

He rubs his throat and turns around, eying the creature behind him. She is sex incarnate, but that should come as no surprise for a succubus since she was made to be irresistible. Still, Changkyun has been around enough of them to know that this one is different—special; she’d have to be to have earned the Hellion of Hades moniker.

She’s got an hourglass figure, textbook perfect proportions with voluptuous tits and thick hips, where her chestnut hair tumbles in glossy waves. It is wild just as she is wild, voluminous and commanding somehow, and strangely, Changkyun envisions it like a curtain shrouding him as she looms above him, encapsulating them in their own private room.

Her skin is a luscious caramel color, no doubt tanned by all the hellfire, same as his own. Of course, she doesn’t bother wearing very much to cover it, just as he doesn’t, because there isn’t a point to it. Her black bodycon looks painted on, clinging for dear life just under the swell of her ass. The wrap-around halter exposes a large triangle of taut stomach and the underside of those delicious tits, where so much as a finger to the fabric will expose her nipples. They are already jutting in anticipation of her feed, and he doesn’t bother trying to hide his stare.

But none of this is what makes her special.

It’s her eyes.

Changkyun imagines what it is like to wait in dreams for those eyes to appear on the horizon. They’re big and bold, shaped like sunflower petals and the same golden color, too, though there is nothing soft or gentle about them. They chart and dissect and unnerve, missing nothing as they size up their prey. When they do still, it’s like the sun itself has trained on him, and he feels far too seen, like they have burned through the illusion of his human skin to the shimmering scales beneath.

“You've lost your edge,” she remarks with a smirk.

“Never,” he asserts, but the Bastard Demon of Gomorrah feels an odd tickle at the back of his neck like maybe, just maybe, he might have.

She tuts. “Didn’t even hear me coming, and I brought my chains…”

She fingers the belly chain at her waist, and Changkyun hates how she manipulates him into looking at it. Now, he’s fixated on her hips and how well they would open to accommodate him if he had an ounce less knowledge about the hellcat his fellow demon is.

He may have followed her exploits inadvertently over the years. It’s not his fault if the word hellion has become a more frequent word in his vocabulary and happens to come out a little more often when he encounters other demons, and he’s certainly not responsible when one of them spills a tale of a run-in with the Hellion of Hades.

“You’ve never been worth my notice, Andromeda,” he says.

The succubus’s face falls, and Changkyun feels like he finally has the upper hand. They don’t call him a bastard for nothing.

“Oh, fuck off,” she snaps now that their games have unceremoniously ended in his favor. “I’ve had my eye on this one for over a week.”

“Nice try. There are no dibs in the Underworld. If there were, we wouldn’t have had our little showdown in the Middle Ages, would we?”

“You ruined that for everyone, you little shit.”

Changkyun quirks a brow along with the corner of his lips. “And I’m not above doing that again.”

His nail elongates on his finger into a thin, wicked claw like a dragon tooth begging to sink into flesh. He brings it to the foot of the woman in the bed and drags it up her sensitive arch. She jerks and grunts in her sleep. Her eyelids flutter, and he knows another pass will coax her awake and out of their reach.

“Stop!” Andromeda commands. “Little fucker.”

“Leave then.”

“You know how hard it is to find a soul-sack still holding out for marriage these days. I’d say this one has at least a full decade of sexual frustration ready to be released.”

Andromeda sounds a little whiny and even more desperate, and Changkyun figures the succubus hasn’t properly fed in a few days. Whatever the reason, her neediness is making him needy, and it’s turning him on far more than it should considering how, after more than half an eon, he still hasn’t forgotten Rome or the way her wrists felt thrashing beneath him, nor has he forgotten how his cock had pressed against her like a traitorous conspirator, begging against his better judgment to bury itself in her tight little hole.

Not that they’d ever fucked, of course. Over the years, when Andromeda had crossed his mind against his will, Changkyun had convinced himself that his massive hard-on had been an unfortunate consequence of their battle. Nothing a demon likes better than a good fight, he told himself, and theirs had been the best he’d ever had, filled with teeth and claws and catastrophic damage, so all his subsequent erections over her through the years must have spawned from its mere memory.

But here she is again, the Hellion of Hades and the scourge of his subconscious, flouting a bondage enthusiast’s dream instead of the silk and velvet gown that had concealed her many assets the last time they’d met. Changkyun resents how effortlessly his body responds to her. He must work harder to assert his dominance.

“Which is why I’m here,” he informs as he turns back to the once-again immobile human in the bed. “First come, first serve.”

Andromeda slithers closer, her bare arm brushing his forearm. It stings as much as a bite, and the way his skin tingles is just as toxic. Her voice undulates like a snake through water as she says, “Let me have this one, Changkyun. Come on, you owe me after Rome. We demons may not honor dibs, but we do love to call in debts.”

“Your tongue’s still dipped in silver, I see.”

“Mm, still forked, too,” she replies, but if that’s true, she doesn’t let him see it, and his mind is in overdrive.

His only way out of this madness is through it. He has to get her out of his veins one way or another. Seven hundred years is far too long to think about anyone but himself, especially a cunning but enchanting succubus he’s only squared off with once.

“What if I don’t acknowledge a debt?” he challenges.

“And what if I plague you worse than our beloved Black Death, hm?”

Their eyes blaze when they meet, neither one capable of backing down. It’s starting to look like another Rome where they both leave unsatisfied, but Changkyun’s not sure he’s got the mettle to endure a full eon of unprecedented blue balls. Fate has gifted him a chance to settle an old score the way he’d wished he had in the first place, all while getting everything he wants, if he plays his cards right.

He runs a hand through his long black hair and savors the way Andromeda’s eyes break to follow it.

“What if,” he begins in his oiliest voice, “I propose a deal instead? We love our deals, too, don’t we?”

She’s silent as she considers and then: “I’m listening.”

“I have something you want, and you have something I want. The way I see it, you really want this full-course buffet—in fact, you look like your really, really need it—and maybe now my appetite’s changed. I could be persuaded for something a little… off-menu.”

Changkyun shoots a pointed look at Andromeda’s body and feels the first serious twitchings in his cock. Like it or not, his body’s been reacting to her since the second her siren voice coiled in his ear, or, more truthfully, since Rome.

The succubus glowers at him. “I don’t fuck incubi.”

“Why not? Afraid I’ll know all your tricks or just afraid I’ll ruin you to all other sex?”

“Because you’re cocky as hell, but you’ll never deliver, at least not for a creature you can’t manipulate into thinking you did.”

Flares blossom in Changkyun’s eyes. “And humans deliver?”

“I have total control there, don’t I? I make sure they fill me up just right,” she adds with a coy smile that absolutely infuriates him. “And you, Changkyun, you’re a bastard and proud of it. I’m not in the mood to be used.”

“But you are in the mood to feed. How hungry are you?”

Andromeda doesn’t move, so he does. The incubus reaches for her, his fingers grazing the side of her breast as he slips his arm around her back to tug her closer.

“Are you seriously going to lie to me?” he questions. “I haven’t forgotten the way you moaned when I pinned you face-down over that dresser.”

She scoffs but it’s weak. “That was in surprise.”

“You moan when you’re surprised, huh? And what sound do you make when you cum?”

Andromeda bites her lip. She’s moved closer to him, even if she doesn’t know it. The hellfire in her eyes flashes, and she seems to swell in his arms. Breathily, she says, “Changkyun…”

“Do we have a deal?” he prods, as much with his words as his fingertip along the underside of one of her tits.

“Fine, but the human is mine. Swear it.”

She lifts her hand, pricks her fingertip with one of her claws, and waits for the dark blood to bead before she offers it to Changkyun. He’s supposed to do the same, but instead, he brings her finger to his lips and suckles. Andromeda hisses, and he catches a glimpse of that forked tongue after all.

Fuck, he’s excited.

When he pulls her finger back, he returns to her gaze and says, “I swear.”

Those sunflower petal eyes have drooped with lust now as she waves her hand in an oval, and a black portal with swirling purple edges materializes.

“Step through,” she orders.

Changkyun hesitates. This could be a trick. She’s a demon, too, impossible to read, and she hungers as badly as he hungers, even if it’s for different things. He doesn’t know where the portal leads, and he has no insurance that she won’t close it behind him, but he supposes she’s thinking the same thing. In the end though, they’ve sealed a pact, and if it’s not fulfilled, whoever breaks it will be forced to repay it tenfold, so it’s enough security for him to step through.

It's dark here and warm, too. Feels just like home.

“Where are we?” he asks.

“My chamber,” she replies as she brushes past him toward the center of the room.

Changkyun wonders how many humans have filtered through here over the eons, assuming this is where she takes them in what they naively believe are simple dreams.

He looks around. It’s surprisingly personal for a demon’s room, well, he thinks anyway considering he’s never been in another’s. His own chamber is filled only with his bed, but Andromeda has pegs in the walls with amulets dangling from them and a table with bottles of colorful liquids. There are shelves, too, populated by all sorts of oddities, things he thinks he’s seen on Earth but never in their realm.

Maybe she doesn’t bring humans here. The thought excites him.

Andromeda catches him scoping her collection out, and she shrugs.

“My trophies,” she says.

She leaves it at that, and even if Changkyun wants to know more, he’s sure she won’t tell him.

She slips off her heels and lines them along the wall in a gesture that is so intimate, it stirs an ache somewhere deep in the hollow of his chest.

In an effort to underscore how unfazed he is by all this, Changkyun takes a seat on the bed since that is what this is all about, but instead of joining him, Andromeda surprises him again. Though they are never more comfortable than they are in darkness, the succubus lights candles around the room—and not with a snap of her fingers, as she easily could, but with a match. When she lights the last one near the headboard, she brings the match to her lips and, with a swift puff, snuffs the flame.

Every time he’s sure he knows where this is going, she reminds him that this is something more significant.

Changkyun is vibrating with anticipation.

“What?” she asks when she catches him appraising her with a cocked head.

He thinks about keeping it to himself, but he’s done enough of that over the years. Instead, he wets his lips before he confesses, “I’m curious about something.”

Andromeda scoffs. “Demons can’t be curious.”

“Hm, that’s true, or was anyway. Seems we’re both breaking our molds tonight…” he muses as he looks around her unusual room.

“What are you curious about?” she asks, and he laughs at his same emotion mirrored on her face.

“How do you entrance your humans?”

At this, her ample chest lifts a little. “You want to see?”

“Mm.”

Andromeda raises her eyebrows as a smile curls her lips. It’s unreasonably hot, and Changkyun feels the tip of his cock weep a little seed into his pants. It’s unexpected, and he shifts back on the bed to make his hunger a little less obvious in case this creature thinks she has any more control over him than he’s willing to give.

She brings a finger to her lips, and he watches the nail lengthen into a proper talon. The edge catches the candlelight and winks just before she licks it, and at last, Changkyun gets a full view of that forked tongue. It’s wider than a snake’s and just as agile, yet he can already feel it wrapping around his dick to taste every ridge.

When she’s ready, Andromeda approaches, her hips swinging like a bell, and Changkyun swears there’s music in his ears. She’s calling to him and his body answers.

He sits up ramrod straight, any hopes of tempering his eagerness long-forgotten. She stops just before his knees and looks down at him. Their eyes meet, and a little growl escapes his chest.

Her poor excuse for a dress has ridden so far up her bitable thighs that he can almost make out his prize nestled in the shadows at her apex. Normally, he would help himself, but he tries to put himself in the mind of a hapless human who would be too dumbfounded by her aura to do anything other than ogle shamelessly at her sexuality, and he thinks he’s doing a commendable job of playing lovestruck…

Slowly, the succubus descends, the apple of her ass settling side-saddle in Changkyun’s lap. His hands snake around her waist before he can tell himself to stop, and he holds her close to him.

He realizes in that moment that, demon or not, he is entranced, too.

For a second, Andromeda’s brow knits as she looks down at his arms around her, but when she looks back up, her sensual persona is back in full force. Her thumb pries at his bottom lip, and it puffs up in kind.

“Stick out your tongue,” she orders.

“Why?” he protests, “You can't feed off of me.”

“Don't be ridiculous. I don't want to feed from you. I want to use you.”

Changkyun simultaneously hates and loves this idea. He is used to using everyone and everything, but the way her petal eyes flutter warps the selfish streak within him momentarily. Besides, he tells himself, she may call this off if she doesn’t think she’s about to get what she wants out of it, and he hates that idea far more.

Andromeda takes his face between her hands and stares into his eyes until it feels like she’s wandering around inside him. Changkyun shivers for the first time in his eternal life.

“This is the part where I uncover all your darkest desires,” she says as the blackness in her eyes swirls.

The incubus falls into her gaze with the feeling that he is moving though he knows he’s not. Still, his arms tighten around her waist as dizziness overtakes him. He can feel her roving about in his head, but it isn’t long before she gives up with a hiss.

Changkyun smiles and then chuckles. “You can't find mine, can you, bright eyes? That’s because I’m nothing but dark desires.”

He trusts he sounds cocky and alluring, but he knows the truth is more than that. She can’t find any of his desires because he wants to explore all of them with her. Even he knows his brain’s a fucked-up mess over her.

Changkyun fans his hands over the keyholes of skin at the back of her dress and revels in the way she burns him. Demons naturally run hot, but she’s like fire incarnate. Fuck, what will she feel like when he’s inside her?

Andromeda pulls back and shakes it off though she doesn’t remove his hands, thank fuck.

“It doesn't matter,” she says after she clears her throat. “In a moment, you will have to do what I want anyway.”

“That so?”

“Yes, baby, it is so.”

The succubus bites her lip before she squeezes his cheeks between her fingers, and slowly, he parts his lips for her.

“Good little demon,” she says with a crooked grin.

Out lolls his tongue, and on the widest, flattest part, Andromeda presses the tip of her nail. Changkyun feels a prick that passes in an instant for a warm tingling that spreads quickly through his limbs. He feels heavy all over, too heavy to lift his arms or legs, too heavy to sit upright anymore. He falls back onto her bed, and she lays him out in an X shape, his hands to opposing corners.

At first, he is resentful. There was something about her sitting sweetly on his lap and in his arms, and even though she was above him, it felt like she was his and he held all the power over her. He wishes he was still holding her, but then that resentment fades as his other senses open up.

The sheets smell like her—a little fire, a little brimstone, and something less familiar that he can’t pinpoint, maybe animalic. Whatever it is, it stiffens his cock to unprecedented levels.

“Don’t worry,” says Andromeda as she stands beside the bed, “you’ll still feel everything. I’ll see to it.”

Her long fingers work at her waist to undo the belly chain there, and once it’s loose, she snaps it like a whip, and it lengthens with magic. In the candlelight, it glimmers as it puddles at her feet. With another flick of her hand, the chain encircles Changkyun’s wrists and threads itself through two heavy iron rings anchored in the wall. This sours his mood, less about the reinforcement and more about the fact that the rings are there at all because what other reason would there be to have them if someone wasn’t meant to be tied up to them in the first place?

“Aw, baby,” she coos, “don’t frown. I like it when you smile for me.”

His scowl deepens because now he thinks that’s a thing she says to everyone. Changkyun liked it better when he thought he was special. His jaw juts as he complains, “If I already can’t move, what’s the point of the chains?”

Andromeda shrugs. “Insurance. You’re a demon after all, so I don’t know how long you’ll be under my control, and I have big plans for you.”

At this, he raises an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Mm, yes. I’m going to suck what’s left of your soul right out of you.”

Changkyun can’t control much below his face, but he still feels everything acutely, and he definitely feels his insides quiver at the thought.

With her ensorcelled chain secured, Andromeda straightens. Her hands come to the back of her neck and lift the halter over her head. Her waterfall of hair slinks through the loop like thread through a needle’s eye, and it’s borderline hypnotic. His cat eyes narrow, transfixed to her breasts now as he waits for their reveal. He isn’t disappointed.

As the tight fabric is peeled away, her tits bounce out wild and free. They’re the most marvelous shape he’s ever seen, perfectly round with an enticing jiggle made even more tantalizing by the way her nails scrape along her sensitive flesh. Even from his pillow, he can see her nipples pucker so hard, they’re ringed by little pebbled haloes. Changkyun’s mouth is already watering.

For a moment, Andromeda takes them in her hands and lifts and squeezes before she lets go to give them a fresh, perky bounce that draws a little groan from the creature tethered to her bed. Smiling in self-satisfaction, she turns her back to him, which teases a frustrated sigh from him until she returns her hands to what’s left of the rumpled dress still suctioned to her waist. Changkyun knows what will happen next, and he finds himself straining what bits of him he can still control toward her.

Andromeda rolls the dress over her hips, slow and low so he can appreciate the swell of her firm ass until the fabric is taut over her most voluptuous curve, and then she bends over and does the cutest little shimmy to shake the garment to her pretty ankles. Changkyun realizes it’s silly to think her ankles are pretty, much less any part of her is pretty because “pretty” isn’t a word a demon uses, but he thinks it all the same until he discovers he’s still staring at her ankles instead of the lush cunt she is presenting.

He's only too happy to direct his attention to her damp lips which shimmer in the low light.

“Hm,” he muses. “For someone who didn’t want to fuck me, you sure are wet, little hellion.”

“Who says that’s because of you?” she challenges as she turns around. “I am a succubus.”

Andromeda presents her perfect form to him, and it’s clear her arousal has leaked down the crease of her thighs, too. She takes a finger and swipes it up her slit, twisting it this way and that so her wetness is unmistakable to him, and then she sucks her fingertip clean.

Breathlessly, Changkyun asks, “What do you taste like?”

Her smile is as wicked as she is. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He does. More than anything, he does.

One knee at a time, Andromeda sinks onto the bed, and his anticipation mounts. The leather of his pants is unbearably restrictive, and his cock is straining mightily against its repression, but with her blade-sharp nail, she cuts a line from collar to navel through his black tank and parts it instead. Her hands fan over his taut abs and defined chest, more appreciative than lustful honestly. He swells with pride, which only reminds him of his damn leather prison again.

Changkyun expects her to free him, but still, she does not. Instead, she swings a leg over his waist, her ass facing him, and takes a seat, her cunt pressed in a hot, wet kiss against his stomach. It’s all he can think about—her blazing heat throbbing against his muscles and making a mess of him—until the palm of her hand comes scorching across the tent in his pants.

Changkyun hisses. He would have bucked into her grip, too, if he could have, but for now, it’s the best he can do to show his succubus how much he appreciates her attention. Clearly, Andromeda gets the gist because her hand conforms around his tip, and he feels the extra pressure of her thumb against his sensitive cockhead in a blood-boiling way.

“You want me to play with you, Changkyun?” she asks sweetly over her shoulder.

“I want you to suck me off,” he demands and is infuriated to hear how quickly he’s lost his composure at just the hope. The rattle of his demonic growl darkens the edge of his words while it illuminates his impatience.

Even worse, Andromeda laughs lightly, a bit like a wind chime tinkling in a breeze. It’s too innocent for a sex demon, and it has his head doing funny, swimming things.

Despite her laugh though, she undoes the button at his pants and unzips the rest. He can feel both her hands at his waist, parting the leather gates, and something about that is unbearably sexy. Fuck, he’d give anything to see her face the moment she pulls his dick out because just the betrayal of her hitching breath is enough to make him blow.

Changkyun is an incubus. He was made to fuck—there’s no debating that—but he knows he’s got a special cock. He gets hard and stays hard for as long as he wants, and his cock, like her tits, is without compare. He’s thick, long, and adorned with a series of ridges along his shaft to coax delicious orgasm after delicious orgasm out of his partners, and he can’t wait until this creature falls apart for him.

If only she would stop teasing him!

Andromeda has both hands wrapped around Changkyun’s shaft, marveling at his girth and hardness in agonizingly slow strokes.

“It’s better than I imagined,” she murmurs, and just like that, new beads of milky cum seep from his mushroomed tip.

She’s imagined his cock in her hands…

Her thumb smears his early gift, and as she looks over her shoulder at him, she pops it into her mouth. If Changkyun could pull his chains, he’d have already broken out of them.

“So bad,” he whispers.

“Mm-hm.”

“I want you to be badder,” he eggs on, and Andromeda smiles.

“What sort of bad things do you want from me, baby? I'm not short on sin.”

She’s sure as shit not. Now it’s just a matter of selecting the order.

Changkyun muses. “Swallow my cock. Choke on it.”

There’s that devilish grin, and he can’t believe his luck. He’s the one tied up, but he’s still calling all the shots. It’s exactly what he—

But instead of doing as instructed, Andromeda slides her pussy up his stomach, then his chest, leaving a sopping wet trail until Changkyun can feel the cloying heat off her seam colliding with his chin.

“Earn it,” the succubus says, and his arrogance evaporates.

At first, Changkyun is irritated. He wants what he wants when he wants it, and right now, he wants his dick buried down her throat, but he is also an opportunist, and this is an opportunity to show her that no puny human entrée will ever please her again the way he will. He’s going to relish making Andromeda an unexpected slave to his cock.

Her tongue may be forked, but his is long and skilled, especially trespassing into forbidden velvet walls, and it never fails to send his human partners spiraling into orgasms so violent that he almost fills up on their first one. His succubus may have him dead to rights for the moment, but it doesn’t matter if he’s frozen in chains—Changkyun’s going to have her quaking for him.

He wets his lips in anticipation as Andromeda sinks back. Her scent is most intense here, musky and raw and demanding his full attention. Her puffy lips eclipse his view, and he is face-to-face at last with the secret she can no longer hide.

She craves him as much as he craves her, demon or not.

Every human tastes different—Changkyun should know; he’s fed on countless numbers of them. Some are tangy, others sweet or even sour, while still others may taste fresh or filthy, but there’s also a distinctly human quality to all of them, an inadequacy. He has never put his finger on what that is, but all he knows is that when his tongue darts out to take his first taste of succubus, he understands that nothing will ever taste as delicious ever again. It is indefinable, but it is also unforgettable.

Andromeda is demon heroin. With one lick, he knows he will never be able to stop searching for the next one, and he realizes in one fell swoop that she has done to him exactly what he has planned to do to her. To stop tasting her feels unconscionable. She must be devoured until she begs him to stop. No wonder so many humans go mad after being with a succubus. A person couldn’t move on from this. Changkyun can’t move on from this. Maybe this is the reason demons don’t fuck demons. What a fool he’s been.

At least if he’s going to be ruined, he’ll see to it that she is, too.

He showers his attention along her seam first. He likes to prime his meals this way, get them all worked up and squirming and hoping against hope that he’ll suddenly change his mind and fuck them on his tongue like they need, but he won’t. It’s not until they’ve given up that hope that he will plunge his tongue inside to send them into an unparalleled climax.

But as has been the case all night, things have not gone the way he expected. He's barely had a chance to savor Andromeda’s exquisite moans before he’s eager to show her what else he can do. It would be easier if he had use of his hands, but Changkyun is determined to prove his prowess to her regardless. His tongue slides between her folds and teases an intense groan from her.

Andromeda rocks her hips back onto his chin, and his tongue delves a little deeper into her richness. As much as he wants to go to town devouring her, he knows the true payoff comes with the foreplay. He spends time roving about her soft shadows, tasting her desire and circling her entrance without ever penetrating her.

He’s purposefully neglecting her clit, and it’s clearly infuriating her. She keeps grinding back, trying to force him where she needs him, but he’s enjoying the game too much.

Until she starts playing one of her own.

Like a kitten, she licks his tip. Pleasure skyrockets through Changkyun’s body. If he could move, he would be writhing head to toe.

“Shit!” he shouts, his head thumping back to the bed.

“I thought I told you, don’t be a bastard,” Andromeda adds far too gently for her meaning.

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to rush with you.”

Changkyun wishes he hadn’t said anything. The way she stares back at him makes him feel like something other than what he’s supposed to be—a mindless sex demon.

She opens her mouth to respond, but he doesn’t want to hear it, so instead, he does as she asks and dives into her. He works double-time between her swollen lips, lapping at her obscenity and pressing experimentally into her warm cavern. Her nails dig into his thighs, and whatever cutting thing she might have said is traded for a whiny moan.

He’s still ignoring her clit for now, but it’s hard for her to complain with his incubus tongue now deep inside her. He plunges the thick, serpentine muscle into her shivering walls, and she keens long and low into her room.

Changkyun withdraws, her body slumping instantly at the loss, just long enough to say smugly, “Can your human playthings do that?”

Andromeda doesn’t even have a chance to answer before he invades her core again and undulates the thick appendage as only an incubus can. He knows just by texture where her most sensitive recesses are, and the tip of his tongue targets them with wicked precision.

She howls as her hand squeezes his base. Changkyun might have protested about how hard she was gripping him, but, frankly, it’s keeping him from blowing his load at the feeling of her pussy constricting his tongue.

It’s time at last.

Changkyun draws his tongue back into his mouth to savor her sumptuous taste, but it isn’t just his succubus’s ample wetness that revs him up to unprecedented levels; it’s how hard her clit is. With one flick of his tongue, Andromeda’s thighs shake around his ears. She makes a sound he’s never heard before, high and sweet and innocent like a dove’s coo. Something like that shouldn’t come out of a sex demon either, so it only makes him madder with lust.

She stifles herself by engulfing his cock, and even though that was what Changkyun had wanted all along, he’s a little disappointed. He didn’t realize how much pleasure he was getting from her sexy, desperate noises until she’s taken them away from him.

At least he can enjoy the way Andromeda chokes around his thick member. Her mouth is far deeper and lacks the pitiful gag reflex of a human, but that doesn’t lessen the sweet, filthy symphony of his cock drenched in her saliva. It’s messy and depraved, just the way Changkyun likes. The fork in her tongue cradles his shaft so nicely, especially when she gets to his tip and massages it until it leaks more precum. He just wishes he could see those petal eyes go wide as he splits apart those flushed lips.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it, little hellion?” he teases, and she mumbles an “mm-hm” around his shaft.

Changkyun smiles and returns to that cute caramel button throbbing for his attention. His tongue wraps around her clit and tugs it between his lips so he can suck properly. In no time at all, Andromeda is gagging her scream around his length as a rush of her cum drenches his lips and chin. Her thighs box his ears so hard they ring, and she collapses on him, his dick still twitching between her limp lips.

She doesn’t need to tell him it’s the best orgasm she’s ever had; he knows. But Changkyun still wants to hear it.

“See?” he prompts. “I can be generous when motivated.”

Andromeda rolls off of him with a groan and says, “I suppose you’ll be wanting your half of the bargain then?”

Her hand is pumping his base now, and the electricity gathering there has Changkyun’s toes curling.

“Is that what you’d do with a human?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Then do something else.”

“You don’t like it?” she pouts. She’s between his legs now, crouched like a submissive little lamb with his cock cradled between both of her hands, and even though he knows that’s the furthest thing from the truth, if Changkyun had a heart, it would be pounding at the sight.

He wets his bottom lip and stares at her. “Do something just for me.”

Andromeda’s mouth falls open. Something changes in her. It’s subtle, but he sees it. Maybe that’s because she’s been imprinted on his brain for 700 years, so he notices when she looks like anything other than the Queen of Hell, but she’s definitely different. Her eyes turn downward as her full brows pinch in the middle. Her hands fall away from his cock so she is on all fours while her gaze stays fixed to his.

She crawls up his body this time, her skin gliding along his oiled with their sweat. She stops when they are face to face. Her knees are pinned on either side of his hips, and her cunt presses on his shaft, dripping shamelessly with intention.

Changkyun waits. He’s not sure what the succubus will do with his request, but the way she is looking at him has his blood pumping. She must feel it throbbing through his cock, too, because she grinds herself along him with a purr. The chains creak as his fingers flex.

“Something just for you…” Andromeda whispers, leaning down so he can feel her words ghosting along his lips.

She kisses him then, and color bursts behind his eyes. In another seven centuries, Changkyun would have never guessed that this is what she would do, but the touch of her lips is euphoric. He’s never kissed nor has he ever been kissed—that’s not in the incubus playbook.

Neither of them really seem to know how to move their lips across each other’s, yet as the initial shock wears off and they grow more confident, they find a rhythm that has his chest tightening in unexpected ways. When Andromeda’s tongue pushes between his lips, he arches underneath her and bucks, his cock sliding between her folds almost as deliciously as his tongue slides along hers.

Through heavy panting, she lifts from his mouth. Her eyes dart around his face, and her flushed lips purse beneath her pinched brow. “Did that please you?”

Changkyun unleashes his demon growl, and with one good yank, he rips the chains free from the hooks. Her eyes go wide, but before she can respond, he has her cheeks between his hands, and he’s kissing her again.

Now that Andromeda is distracted, he rolls her underneath him and ruts against her the way he wants—recklessly, wildly, hungrily—until his dick is soaked and ready to fuck like it’s never fucked before. She whimpers into his mouth, her forked tongue tangling with his dexterous one in ways that saturate his mind with white hot desire.

She barely notices when he reverses the chain around his wrists and loops it around hers in a fresh demonic bond, but she stills once she hears the metal loop through the wall hooks and pull her arms taut.

Andromeda stares up at him in shock.

“You were right to worry,” the incubus says with a sly grin. “Your venom wore off.”

“What happens now?” she asks breathlessly.

Changkyun pretends to think, but he’s been thinking about this forever. He smiles. “I fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

He smirks as he devours Andromeda’s manacled, squirming form. This little minx has no idea what’s in store for her.

“But first things first,” he says, and he enjoys the way her face falls. “I’ve got a messy cock, and you have such immaculate tits. Let’s fix that.”

Changkyun wastes no more time before sucking one of her nipples between his teeth. His canines are sharp, but he stays gentle except for the few experimental nibbles that spur her pussy into frenzied buckings against his shaft. After all the teasing, he’s close to release, but he has bigger plans for his first load of cum.

He lavishes attention on her second tit now and, much to his infinite delight, receives a no-less greedy response. With both nipples as high and proud as they can go, Changkyun sits back and straddles Andromeda’s stomach.

She’s confused. From the frenzy between her thighs, she had thought she was about to be railed through her bed, but now she’s staring down the barrel of his red-hot cock. The head is glistening with his and her cum, and she licks her lips.

“Tongue out,” he demands. “Keep it out.”

The long, rouged muscle unfurls, the fork curling like beckoning fingers. Damn her.

Furious at the shiver of weakness that heaves through him, Changkyun manhandles her tits together to create a supple crease that’s all too welcoming. He pushes his dick forward, and softness surrounds him. It feels too sinful, and he moans, which only intensifies when he realizes her tongue can reach his tip.

Andromeda greets his every thrust like this, and in an embarrassingly short amount of time, Changkyun cums. His release splatters the crest of her tits, all the way up her throat, and spurts onto her jaw and chin.

The succubus grins in victory, but he has to wait until his toes uncurl before he can be pissed about it. A tremor of passing ecstasy moves through him before he crashes against the wall to watch her lick up what seed she can reach.

“Shit, yes,” he groans as his head thunks against the lava rock.

“Feel better?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

“Are we done then?”

Changkyun looks at her with one eyebrow raised. Andromeda smiles, and he imagines he sees a bit of relief there.

“Fine,” she says, “but remember what I said.”

How could he forget?

You’ll never deliver.

This is the opening he’s been waiting centuries for. With her body pliant and her eyes defiant, Changkyun is reinvigorated. She’s sexy and taunting and red-blood demon through and through. His determination galvanizes.

“I’m going to teach you how to properly fuck my cock,” he says as he slaps her thighs apart and gets an eyeful of her waiting cunt.

Andromeda bares her teeth at him. “I’m a succubus. I think I know what I’m doing.”

“No, not one of those meager human excuses for dicks. My cock, little hellion. If you don’t fuck incubi, then you don’t know how to take it.”

“Oh, and your humans can?”

Changkyun pinches her chin between his fingers and ensures her eyes meet his before his voice drops perilously low. “I don’t give them everything. You? You’re going to get it all, absolutely every last bit I can bury in you.”

Andromeda rattles her chains, and her tits bounce so invitingly that he’s hard as diamonds.

He looks at the last pennants of pearl festooning her clavicle just out of reach of that naughty tongue, and the strangeness he’s felt building all night in his chest loosens its grip a little. This is demon fucking, and it comforts Changkyun. This is what this was always supposed to be about, not that strangely sensual shit they’d been doing for no discernible reason. Just a good, old-fashioned feral fuckfest. He looks forward to wrecking that tight pussy the same way.

Only that’s not what happens.

For reasons he can’t understand, once he has primed himself anew with his hand at the visual of his succubus fidgeting beneath him, he slips between her legs and lines his member with her pulsing entrance, but he doesn’t plunge in to the hilt and relentlessly fuck her.

Instead, Changkyun nestles his cockhead just inside her, savoring the way she whimpers with delight. There she goes, making those unprecedented sounds again. It empowers him as much as it weakens him. Her slit strangles the neck of his cock, and it’s so mesmerizing, he spends a few long minutes just fucking her hole.

In. Out. In. Out. A little faster but no deeper.

Andromeda never put her tongue away. It’s lolling in the corner of her mouth as her lids lower like blinds. She’s drunk on his cock, and Changkyun wants to howl with triumph.

“Where’s the mighty Hellion of Hades now?” he taunts, but her answer surprises him.

Her eyes dim and her body slackens as she babbles, “Yours. Yours. Just do what you want to me. Yours, Changkyun.”

He freezes inside her.

Changkyun is just like any other demon—selfish, self-absorbed, and possessive—but he’s never actually owned anything. Even his room is a mere waystation between his last feeding and his next round of chaos. But now the only other creature he’s thought about in ages has given herself to him. He doesn’t know what to do with that.

So he pushes all the way in. Slowly. And then he stays, engulfed by her relentless heat and her scent.

Andromeda arches underneath him and cries. “So full of you! So full…”

He leans over her, his body casting gauzy shadows on her in the flimsy candlelight. He brushes her hair from her face. He tells himself it’s so he can better watch the way his cock ruins her, but that’s a lie. He just wants to watch her.

Changkyun withdraws slowly, savoring the way her cunt makes needy, squelching sounds as it begs to keep him, and then he drives back in. He keeps his pace rhythmic: emphatic thrusts followed by languorous retreats. He savors her—too much…

His mouth descends to hers, and now he’s fucking and kissing like some sort of… human.

It’s wrong. It’s not supposed to happen, not for a creature like him, but he can’t stop himself, and he’s certainly not going to stop her when her tongue glosses against his in a way that makes him a little disoriented.

Changkyun flops on top of her, and she makes a little “oompf” into his mouth before her legs lock above his ass. She may be trapped, but so now is he. Instantly, it spurs his cock faster.

Between their frenzied panting and their sticky bodies, it’s getting noisier by the second. He pushes up again so he can truly appreciate how shamelessly she responds to him. He watches his demon cock spread her wide and stir her hips up with voracious little lunges as her body yearns to take him all every thrust.

“Changkyun…” she moans, and it’s so heady that he forgets himself.

His hand cups her jaw, his thumb pressing lightly on her throat. She’s staring up at him with eyes of fire, her mouth open and her lips swollen to the point of vulgarity.

“Andromeda…” he echoes.

She’s so pretty, but he’s missing something. It’s a thing he can’t pinpoint, but all the same, he knows he needs it. He heeds to his usual impulsiveness and offers, “I’ll remove the chains under one condition.”

“Fuck, name it,” she whines.

“You ride me until I cum.”

She smiles lopsidedly paired with heavy lidded eyes. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Changkyun releases the enchantment on the chains, and they fall limp to the bed like the innocent accessory they’d once been. Andromeda’s hands are on him in an instant, wrapping around his neck and crushing his body to hers.

They kiss so hard that he may not have noticed her rolling him onto his back again if it isn’t for the fact that his dick is unexpectedly cold now that he’s slipped out of her. But when they break free, he sees her above him as he’d always hoped. Dark waves of hair rush over her shoulders and tickle his stomach in a way that stirs something foreign and fluttery inside. Maybe he’s got some kind of demonic parasite—who the fuck knows? But Changkyun doesn’t have time to care about that now because Andromeda moves back and wraps her hand around his cock to hold him in place as she sinks back down.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans.

This is different. He’s enveloped in tight, hot velvet. It’s all-consuming. With her controlling her descent, Changkyun can appreciate how much he opens her up. No human could take him like this—at least, not as he truly is. He scales back for them, but not for his succubus. Her walls hug his every inch, and she whines gratefully for it all.

When their sexes meet, she rocks back in his saddle, and he catches the ripple through her taut stomach. It’s too much. He’s ready to blow before their next round of fun has even started. That won’t do.

Changkyun has to distract himself, and lucky for him, her lean-back has presented him with easy access to her pretty, arousal-studded clit. His thumb finds a home there, pressing at first to garner her full attention and, once he has it, rubbing it to its full perky height while Andromeda shakes around him.

She savors his thumb for a minute before she lifts up, and he gets a slow-motion pornographic shot of his drenched cock splitting her wide before she sits back down with force. Shockwaves tear through the both of them.

“Do it again,” Changkyun orders, but he knows it sounds like begging instead.

But Andromeda complies, not once or twice but over and over again. It’s mesmerizing the way she fucks him, and it feels even more divine, which is another word a demon doesn’t use, but fuck if it isn’t true about her perfect cunt.

At last, she sits full against him and switches to a grind, and Changkyun can feel the way he stirs her walls, especially one spot just inside her belly that, when she gyrates just right, ensures she spouts a string of curse words every time. He pockets that knowledge for later and lets her finish working them both into a frenzy. The closer she gets to cumming again, the tighter she squeezes him, and it’s hot as fuck.

They’re feeding off each other, but not in the way either of them are used to. In fact, Changkyun can’t explain what he’s getting out of this at all. It’s fucking, but normally, when he fucks, he fills up, like a human stuffing its face at a buffet. With Andromeda, he feels like he’s being emptied, and what is left is raw and confusing. It reminds him he’s naked though he’s never cared whether he’s naked or not before because that’s just part of what an incubus is. But he cares that he’s naked with her. He cares how he looks to her eyes. He cares that she wants to see him—clothed or not.

He cares.

Demons don’t care.

“Fuck, Changkyun, I don’t want to stop,” she calls from his lap. “I don’t want to ever stop.”

Her hands have hiked up her hair in a gossamer fountain as she rides him, each bounce resonating in her tits. Her mouth hangs open to accommodate her ceaseless cries and moans. There’s a sheen of sweat dappling her body that magnifies the hybrid of iridescent little scales woven in with her skin.

“Not yet!” she begs, but it’s all over for her.

Andromeda gushes around his cock with a tremendous climax that ripples through him. Her cunt is strangling the life out of him, and Changkyun cannot get enough. He punches his dick deeper into her, which sends a wail from her lips. She pitches forward, hands crashing to his shoulders and digging in until they break the skin.

“More,” he grunts through the suffocating pillow of her tits in his face. “Give me more.”

He’s fucking her at ultrasonic speed, his hips jackhammering up into her and crashing against her swollen clit. His ridges stimulate every nerve in her greedy walls as they continue to seize around him.

Her eyes roll back in that cock-drunk face of hers as she babbles out senseless noises and a reedy “Not again…”

But Changkyun’s fucked her straight through one release into another, and this time she screams at the top of her lungs. Her body goes limp atop him, a beautiful doll for him to use for his own end at long last.

His hands stay on her hips to hold her down, but just as he regained his mobility faster than she expected, so does Andromeda. She perks up on his chest and sits back in his lap. It’s pure bliss, being inexorably swallowed by her dripping pussy with no chance of escape. This is exactly how he wants to unload inside her, with her cunt—his, now—milking him for every drop of his demon seed.

Changkyun scoops his hands under her ass to lift her up so his can piston into her. It won’t take much. He’s had a hair trigger all night anyway, and she’s still convulsing with aftershocks of her release. But right as he’s about to blow, he feels her pull up, and he knows what she’s trying to do, especially because she’s smirking.

“We had a deal, hellion!”

Before Andromeda can respond, her chain encircles her waist with whip-like speed, both ends in Changkyun’s fists as he secures her in his lap.

“Take my cum,” he snarls just before he floods her pussy.

This is different than his first climax. This means something. There’s no pretending anymore. He’s…

Happy?

It feels like there’s something lodged in his throat as he stares up at her. Her eyes are closed, her face relaxed, and her hands are pressed on the softest part of her belly where he shelters.

She whispers his name, and the chain slackens in his hands as Andromeda falls on top of him. Instinctively, his arms go around her, and he holds her little ball-shaped form tightly against him.

They pant together as they come down from their highs, and once he’s cleared his throat enough to talk again, Changkyun grumbles, “You were going to leave me?”

“I was going to suck you off,” she assures, but Changkyun doesn’t like the weird feeling lingering in his question. Still, he forgets it when she adds, “But this was better.”

“This was better,” he agrees and presses his softening shaft a little deeper into their mess.

After a while, Andromeda rolls beside him, her hands on her belly again as she stares at the ceiling. “I wonder if all incubi are like this.”

“Don't even think about it,” he snaps, and his words carry the full breadth of his demonic bite. “All of them would disappoint you. The only one you want is me.”

Changkyun doesn’t like the insinuation that she might try others. He comforts himself by reminding himself that demons, by nature, are possessive, but this doesn’t feel like possession. It feels like fear.

Andromeda raises an eyebrow at his jutting chin and taut lips, but says, “Okay. Just you.”

His shoulders relax though he finds his hand has wandered over to join hers on her stomach.

“I don’t even remember what started this,” she muses.

“We were trying to feed from the same human.”

“Oh,” she laughs. “Yeah, now I remember. I forgot I was hungry.”

Changkyun doesn’t reply except with a rhythmic stroke of his thumb over hers.

“You know what?” she says. “I think I worked up a fresh appetite though, and I’m in an unusually generous mood. Why don’t we just share her?”

“Share?”

The word is foreign, but he likes it because it means he’s not the only one here thinking things he shouldn’t.

“Only if you want to,” she adds softly.

“Yeah, okay.”

Andromeda props up onto her arm, a smile on her face. “Okay?”

Changkyun nods. He’s smiling, too.

It’s going to be hard to focus on the human with his succubus in the same room, but it’s in that moment that he realizes he’ll try anything Andromeda asks of him as long as it means she’ll keep him around a little longer.

The succubus hops off the bed and bothers only with her chain around her waist before she creates a portal back into the human’s bedroom. She steps through the glowing oval and offers her hand back to him.

Changkyun thinks this is what a human might call a date, but he’s not human, so he calls it what it should be: an unholy alliance. But as he slips his hand into hers and she pulls him through to her giddy kiss, he realizes maybe when it comes to her, there’s room for a few more words in his lexicon.

#monsta x smut #changkyun smut #im smut #oneshot #rivals to lovers #october vibes #present tense strikes back

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kikie-e3 · 1 year

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So.... Rise Borrower au? Yes?

Ok so, this au sort of spawned a while ago. (Im just now working on it though lol) My original idea was "Ok what if the turtles stayed their normal turtle size well mutant?" But they would still be sort of reasonably sized? Since Alligator snapping turtles are actually huge, but it wasn't quite the vision I was going for.

But then genius struck

Borrower AU

It sort of morphed from there Ill be honest and I wrote a oneshot (which needs to be revised before I post it)

Anyways the basic plot. In short after being mutated, the ooze mutates Splinter and the turtles to shrink? (...Im working on this part) But anyways long story short, after living in the sewers for a few years to long Splinter brings him and the turtles to move into the walls of an empty apartment... or it was supposed to be. Yes it was empty for a while, until someone moved in.

Someone with a kid named April.

April at age 9, at first doesn't think the house is that weird. Until she starts noticing things, the occasional patter of small feet, the hushed whispers of voices and small squeaks. The missing things, never anything big, but things like pins, sugar, buttons, and some of Aprils old toys. She gets curious, what things could possibly be causing this? Well ghosts of course! What else could it be? So starts little detective April, to catching her apartment ghosts in the act.

(All well the Turtles are trying to avoid the curious human to near to finding them out)

And that's just the basic premise at best. I do have more for this story, but that's all for now. Besides that, i do have some doodles of the Borrower!Bros, ands some not so solid designs for them!.

Ok so Leo first! With his little pin needle swords. When I was searching for Borrower inspiration, I noticed that pin needles were often their weapons and hey... Thats cool. I dont really know what i want to do with his design, but I like it for now! Anyways, Leo is the biggest criminal, will risk everything just to steal a penny.

Mikey! and his little button knee pads! And plenty of stolen art supplies. The insides of the walls are littered with small graffiti. He also most likely not allowed out a lot

Donnie... Who not going to lie will be a bit hard to depict in this world. With a reliance on Tech, it may be a bit hard to intergrade him. Anyways, his temporary battle shell is a box painted purple... and thats cute. He also has a tendency to use sticks as weapons. Second biggest criminal, but steals the more risky things

And Finally Raph (Who right now.. Fav and probably most concrete design) He is a flower lad! Keeps a garden, its very therapeutic. Probably also does not condone stealing things they do not need. Like come on guys they will notice if we steal their phones!!

I do have so much planned for this au and I do plan a full fledged fanfic.... at some point! Hopefully, for now just sporadic posting and small art things. (Though I am open for questions! Fell free to ask!) Though all for now, Ill most likely post more later :))

#rottmnt #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt april #rottmnt art #rottmnt fanart #rise of the tmnt #rise fanart #rise of the turtles #rise of tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #fanart #rottmnt au #rottmnt borrower au #im excited for this :D #tmnt #tmnt 2018

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shimmershae · 2 years

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My thoughts on the Walking Dead Series Finale, Rest in Peace.

Or did they change the title?

No matter. Spoilers ahead. So tread carefully through the lengthy landmine of my consciousness, lol.

Placing behind a cut because reasons. Oh and typos abound because it’s 3 am and I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep since this episode so.

Some general thoughts about Season 11 and TWD in general—much like the season, this is gonna be all over the place so BEWARE and read accordingly

· Carol and Daryl deserved a better ending than that.

· Except for the images of all the characters we’ve loved and the ones we’ve lost along the way saying “we’re the ones that live”? I basically hated that Richonne coda. It was too long, too detailed, and too ambitious for a show that all too frequently in its latter season dropped the ball on the little things that would have paid off big.

· I’ve lost count of how many fucking time jumps this show has taken over the span of its entire run, but I do know there have been too many. Not only that but they’re always skipping valuable character moments and arriving at their “end destination” without any build up because, yep, they skipped it. What could have been forgivable a few times turned into one of this show’s biggest liabilities.

· So many characters just disappeared with little to no explanation. Off the top of my head? Heath. Cyndie. Hell. All of Oceanside was hand waved away this season. Virgil. Like did the dude die or what? And what of Annie? Negan’s insta-wife carrying his redemption-baby? After having comparable screen time to the show’s leading lady (c’mon, you know it’s true, especially in 11A and 11B), she just vanished.

· Speaking of screen time, what in the actual fuck were TIIC thinking sidelining their leading lady, their most talented actress, the heart and soul of the whole damn show? As Carol, Melissa McBride is an incomparable actress. Absolutely phenomenal. And as one of two OGs, she should rightfully have figured very prominently in the main storyline threads this entire season, not just had her appearances sprinkled over the last 8 episodes.

· Inexplicably, it seems Carol’s screen time was “given” to Maggie so that she might have a circular argument with Negan for 2/3’s of the season and only see any real forward momentum and emotional realism in the last handful of episodes. The final episode really. Given that she has her own spinoff with Negan, it makes very little sense and made for an extremely dull first 2/3’s of the season watching them basically meep, meep like the Road Runner on a treadmill going nowhere.

· About that “heart to heart”—I cannot overstate how much it pains me to call any moment between Maggie and Negan that, especially when the pair most deserving of a bonafide heart to heart only got the skim milk version when they should have gotten the full fat, vitamin D version-- in the final episode, it was overdue and I loved that Maggie didn’t pull any punches with Negan because the man murdered her husband with more glee than most children open presents Christmas morning and that’s saying something. He can seek redemption all the day long and keep “proving” himself. But does that mean he will ever “deserve” Maggie’s forgiveness? Personally, I don’t think so and feel it is selfish to want it. Negan suffering the realization of what he cost Maggie and Hershel frankly isn’t enough, IMHO. I don’t care how much the fangirls cry about his woobie face. He’s come a long way and morphed into a character I find multi-faceted and entertaining if not wholly likable during Angela Kang’s tenure and I appreciate that. But as his exclusion from Team Family’s Thanksgiving-esque feast following their last battle proves at least to me? He’s a bad man that’s done some good things not a good man that simply lost his way because lovelies? That road was lost ten thousand detours ago.

· Random observation. Or more like questions, lol. Just who in the hell prepared that big ass feast Team Family enjoyed in the finale to the tune of Stevie Nicks’ Landslide? Who had the energy? It couldn’t have been too long after the battle because generally Walker bite victims don’t tend to linger terribly long, unless TIIC threw their usual conventions out the window with Rosita. Which, come to think of it, wouldn’t be outside the norm. They’re always changing things to suit their current needs.

· Ah, Rosita. I knew she’d been bitten soon as she fell into that sea of Walkers and the fact she didn’t have any torn or disheveled clothing was an eye-rolling moment for me. Also that she wasn’t bleeding because that, to me, suggests the bite didn’t break the skin and you know. Maybe I haven’t paid that much attention to all the various Walker bites in the past, sometimes I simply look away because of the gruesomeness of it all, but usually it takes a break in skin for infection to spread. I guess she got the Bob treatment, come to think of it.

· All that nitpicking aside, Rosita’s sendoff actually had some very lovely moments. Once I pushed back on how pissed I was that TIIC were leaving another child motherless. Were killing a WOC who had only recently enjoyed added dimension in her character and story (although…Rosita, like Carol, seemed be to relocated to the back of the class in Season 11 after having much more impactful screen time in Season 10, a far superior season). Her goodbye scenes with the people she loved, particularly Eugene, hit hard. But even those didn’t tug at my heart near as much as her trying to soak up every last second she could of her remaining time with Coco. That made me ugly cry.

· Know what made me ugly cry that I was in no way expecting? Luke’s death scene where Yumiko and Kelly and Magna and Connie were covered in his blood and their tears, sobbing as they fought futilely to save him. I don’t know. I wasn’t attached to him. I liked him well enough in the very small doses we got of him. But I didn’t actually expect to cry over him dying. Especially since we hadn’t seen him all season and he was obviously brought back to be sacrificed for a bloody death. Angel Theory, Eleanor Matsuura, Nadia Hilker, and Lauren Ridloff were very convincing in their love and grief for him.

· Carol and Daryl were no less convincing in their worry for the little Ass Kicker they both love but to be honest? Judith coming to in the nick of time and finding superheroine strength while being seemingly severely injured (I mean, she had blood coming out of her mouth) to rescue Uncle Daryl in the opening scene took me out of the moment so bad I had a hard time taking the ensuing scenes with her life being in jeopardy seriously. That and she might as well be wearing chain mail because Scott Gimple done fucked up once (and many times afterward, he’s a rambling, riddler of a perpetual fuck up) before by killing Carl and you’d hope AMC would have learned their lesson by now. I personally think not, but let’s move on from that, m’kay? I’ll address more on the Carol and Daryl front later. If I do so now, that’ll be all I talk about because I have a lot of feelings.

· Was Jules’ death a callback to Noah’s in that revolving door because it kind of felt like it?

· Sorry I’m bouncing around a lot here but these “reviews” of mine are always stream of consciousness and hey. I’m basically a human Dug, lol.

· So Daryl wakes up in that hospital bed with a massive shiner and gauze wrapped around his head. How’d he get there? Who else felt cheated by not getting to bear witness to Carol seeing her Pookie passed out cold on that hospital lobby floor alongside Judith? Who do you think she went to first? Judith or Daryl? Who helped her get them to safety? She’s the only one that has been shown to have the bare minimum of medical experience and it makes little sense she wasn’t taking lead on amputating Luke’s leg, at the very least assisting; I’m not discounting Connie’s bravery. Anybody that’s managed to survive in their world and make their disability their “superpower” would have to be, but I don’t see her taking that initiative. Assisting, yes. But holding the knife? No. Same thing with Kelly. So that part rang a little false for me but whatever. Anyway. Don’t you love how we have all these time skips and scene cuts that skip the parts we’re always curious about? Just me then? Okay.

· I can’t be the only person distracted by the increasing visibility of Norman Reedus’s real life tats. I mean. Daryl keeps having all this ink showing up, continuity be damned.

· Carol stroking Judith’s hair while she’s lying on that stretcher makes me wish we’d gotten more scenes of the two of them together. Maybe one where Judith, missing her mom, asked Aunt Carol to brush her hair at bedtime. Maybe even braid it. I mean, they established in one of the earlier eps Carol had been taking care of the kids in Daryl’s absence. They definitely could have spared a minute or two giving us a heartwarming scene like that to show a few things—how much Carol loves Judith despite trying to keep her somewhat at arms’ length, how very much she still misses Sophia, and where she was sleeping in Daryl’s apartment when he wasn’t there and if she and Dog were still missing him and sharing cuddles. 😉

· They really missed the boat big time not having Carol help Siddiq in the infirmary at Alexandria. I mean, sometimes I felt like they were hinting at it. Remember when Siddiq called Carol on the radio for Ezekiel and Dante answered? He was like “she’s right here.” I’ll forgive them not doing more with that though because Season 10 was chockful of Carol and she had so much going on. I didn’t feel the need to fix-it fic her into the fold because she was quite literally the fabric of the whole season but again. Let’s not dwell on that because feelings. I got lots of them.

· Mercer’s reunion with Princess was cute. She scaled that big man like a Sequoia, lol. It reminded me of how much I loved the idea of them earlier in the season. I really hate they got the fast-forward insta-couple treatment thanks to those oh-so-lovely time jumps and scene cuts because their courtship would have been something else. Literally so much of Maggie and Negan’s storyline could have been skipped over in favor of them and it wouldn’t have made a damn bit of difference other than the audience actually being more entertained and less exasperated.

· Okay though. I have to wonder two things about how the fuck Lydia and Aaron came to be back at the Commonwealth. How in the world did Lydia manage to stay upright much less walk with as much blood loss as she sustained? Also? That blood loss had to have her smelling like a Happy Meal to those Walkers. I mean, logic says so anyway, but I guess we all know logic doesn’t live here in this place.

· Rosita finding and rescuing Coco and there being a baby each for her, Eugene, and Father Gabriel made me laugh, not gonna lie.

· The callback to Shane blocking Rick’s door with the stretcher was a nice touch.

· Come on. Am I the only one LMAO at the obvious doll legs and feet in those shots of Eugene and Father Gabriel climbing that pipe? I mean, it was definitely distracting. Again, I ask how the fuck a Walker bit through the thick material of Rosita’s hoodie. It’s not like those assholes have shark teeth. Oh well, abandoning all measures of believability, I enjoyed how much of a fight Rosita put up and was inwardly cheering her on even as I had to refrain from rolling my eyes.

· We were robbed of witnessing Carol and Daryl’s reaction to seeing Lydia. Robbed, I tell you. Then again, we’ve been straight up pick pocketed all season.

· Negan looking concerned for Judith and flanking Lydia was an obvious blink and you miss it ploy to remind us he’s not all bad and it worked a tiny smidgen because JDM’s a softie with kids.

· I love that Aaron has come around where Lydia’s concerned. She’s a sweetheart of a kid that deserves all the love and Aaron has a lot of love to give at his core and experience with the situation she’s now in but dammit. Carol was right there and Melissa and Cassady would have literally brought us to our knees with nothing more than another tearful hug to mirror their last embrace. Why AMC? Why?

· Gimple’s version of Negan could never. That apology was a long damn time coming. Long damn time.

· Finally, I don’t feel resentment towards Eugene’s scenes this episode. Like for so very much of this season, Eugene and Maggie have been Pac-Man and Ms. Pac-Man, gobbling up all the airtime with stories we felt no emotional connection to or were just tired of hearing about because nothing novel happened but in this episode? They were stripped down to the heart of the matter. Somewhere along the way I fell a little bit in love with Eugene’s friendship with Rosita. I never expected to. There was an ick/cringe factor in the very early days. That changed about the time Rosita firmly friend-zoned him. I felt sympathy for the guy then even as I cheered Rosita on for saying the words he needed to hear. So him sussing out the truth of Rosita being bitten and her reaction to that? It broke my heart more than I ever thought it would. Their “I love you’s” were sweet and made me tear up and they were shaded so much differently than another pair of “I love you’s” that touched a nerve with a certain faction of fandom. I bet you can all guess who I’m talking about without my naming names. 😉. I mean, it’s not the first time the two relationships have been in direct juxtaposition with each other, demonstrating the true differences between platonic and romantic love.

· The silent look that passed between Daryl and Carol as they sat vigil at Judith’s beside was intense and full of all the things they’ve never dared speak between them. No two do it better than Melissa McBride and Norman Reedus and that’s 100% fact. That said, the time for their long, long, long overdue “heart to heart” should have been right there in that very moment. Or at least the beginning of it. Because all that chilly distance Daryl’s been keeping between them all season melted with that look at her. He already knew his feelings. He tried to tell her then show her why it wasn’t like that before the cave in. And being faced again with the fragility and brevity of the one life they’re given? It just seemed like the perfect time for confessions to be made, even if they were in the form of a simple “I can’t lose you” echoed back to Carol this time. For apologies to be spoken and accepted. But the lazy AMC scribes relied on the power and magic of Melissa and Norman’s chemistry to do all the work for them like they have basically all season and seriously. Fuck that. Those intense gazes have lit me on fire each and every time all season but goddammit. We’re past time for words here. They’re the OGs. The OG ship. The ship to end all ships on TWD whether some people want to admit it or not. The least they warrant is an actual honest conversation where they stop dancing around the hot pink elephant in the room—they are in fucking love, your honor. Anyway. Let me nudge these thoughts along before I write ten more pages about that.

· Carol’s stroking Judith’s hair again and I can’t help feeling that the walls she’d erected around her heart to protect herself after losing Lizzie/Mika/Carl/Henry started melting like an ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day because she hasn’t been shown to be that tactile with Judith since the Grove. In that respect, what comes later, her staying to help care for the kids, isn’t as much a WTF moment as it could have been.

· The ensuing moment, however? Judith’s comment to Daryl—“Sorry I didn’t tell you before. I was scared that you would leave, too” and Daryl’s response of “I’m right here” definitely adds to the WTFuckery of Daryl’s ultimate exit.

· Ezekiel’s pontificating is an obvious setup for what comes next for him. And like, it’s been obvious all season. But I will say this. I personally resent the fuck out of him leapfrogging Mercer, a figure that’s already been established to have celebrity status with the people of the Commonwealth, someone that’s been there since the beginning, and having a leadership position. Their positions should have been switched but again. Logic has no rightful home in this place.

· It’s the small things. Carol and Daryl barely letting each other out of sight the whole episode makes my heart sing.

· Father Gabriel letting the people inside the walls, especially after the way he was introduced, really makes it strike home how much he’s changed.

· There would have been something poetic about Walker Lance ending Pamela, not gonna lie. But then we wouldn’t have gotten Carol being Queen of Sass with her so.

· Okay. The scene where they’re trying to corral all the Walkers to end them should leave me with more than the thought of “Wow, what a waste of all that fuel, it’s not like there’s an endless supply.” It was anticlimactic but whatever. I’m not here for the fights or explosions or the damn zombies. They could have mentioned it in a line of dialogue and I would have been largely satisfied at this point because we’ve lost so much time this season with so many characters. Carol was criminally underutilized until 11C. I’ll never forgive TIIC for that. Ever.

· “We already had to make an ugly decision. Kept you alive.” LMAO, I love it when Carol’s a savage queen. “…At least we don’t have to worry about who gets your house.”

· Glenn was beautiful, Maggie. So beautiful. I still miss my baby.

· The scene between Maggie and Negan where she tells him she can’t forgive him? It is literally the best scene Maggie has had all season. I don’t want to remember Glenn like that either.

· Who cooked a Thanksgiving feast? Who?

· Eugene watching Rosita with Coco. Mercer and Princess cuddled up. Carol smiling and laughing. Dog. All to the tune of Landslide. My heart is so full.

· Rosita watching it all and confessing to Father Gabriel about being bitten with Judith noticing had me teary again and I’ve always been in the WTF camp with Rosita and Gabriel. Cailey’s little face, though. The child has a bright future.

· Carol and Maggie helping Rosita to bed and saying their goodbyes. The way Rosita seemed to squeeze Carol a little extra hard. I mean, everybody seems to just sink into a Carol hug and I’m pretty sure that’s all thanks to Melissa. Wouldn’t you? I know I would.

· “We’ll see you again someday.” When Father Gabe said that to Rosita, I let out a little sob and I never liked them as a ship. I was full on crying when Rosita told Eugene she was glad it was him with her in the end.

· Another fucking time jump. When will they ever end?

· Eugene and Max naming their baby Rosie was a sweet touch.

· I still can’t get over them making Ezekiel Governor instead of second in command to Mercer.

· Sounds like Daryl and Connie only see each other when he visits the different communities. I have many words for that but I won’t say them, lol.

· Lydia looks happy. She deserves it.

· Negan giving Judith her compass back—I’d honestly forgotten she gave it to him, it feels like forever ago. So I’m guessing he finally left like Carol tried to get him to when Maggie first returned. That’s what I got out of that scene anyway.

· They didn’t show us the whole memorial wall so all I can see is what looks like NIE, but I’m guessing Annie and the baby didn’t make it. Which is honestly too bad. In spite of her convenient insta-existence, I liked her.

· So. This time jump starts at the Commonwealth, goes to Alexandria where we see Carol with her beautiful short curls and the kids are there. The way Gracie greets Judith makes it plain Judith and RJ aren’t at Alexandria anymore. Carol’s little running hug of Aaron is adorable. Lydia and Elijah seem to go back and forth between the communities. Carol and Daryl, too, as evidenced by them traveling from Alexandria to Hilltop. Sorry for the run-on, thinking out loud commentary, lol. I’m just trying to piece everything together.

· Oh my heart. There’s no longer distance or the symbolism of distance between Carol and Daryl. They’re on the same side of the river, literally side by side. I mean, they’ve been that way the whole episode but this is different and you all know why.

· Can’t help being a little resentful of Maggie’s talk about the future that leads Daryl away from Carol’s side. Because ugh. All that talk of “we have a future” and him spending chunks of it away from her. Ugh. Did I say that already? I don’t care.

· Carol saying it’s a beautiful day to head out and Daryl looking right at her as he agrees. I’m crying.

· Nowhere in the fuck of ever has Carol expressed any interest in having Hornsby’s job so fuck whoever decided to retcon that into the narrative.

· “It’s not like we’ve never gonna see each other again.” But can you promise that, Daryl? Can you? Tomorrow isn’t promised. The world is shit sometimes. I hate TIIC for separating them and for why? Why? I know why, spinoff reasons, but narratively why? Make it make sense. You cannot. It’s not like he’s going out to look for Rick and Michonne because a year has passed and it’s apparent he hasn’t ventured all that much further than their established communities. He’s been out “in the frontier” but not so far out that he and Carol and the kids don’t have regular contact.

· So. They left Hilltop and went back to the Commonwealth? Did Carol ride home with him on his bike? Did the kids take a wagon or train? Somebody explain this to me like I’m 5 years old, please. I can’t help thinking she clung to him on the bike ride home, neither one of them really talking about what Maggie proposed because they didn’t want goodbye to be even closer and then they had that emotional talk by the river and oh my heart. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

· They’re beautiful. I love them. Now and forever.

· So what? Are the kids staying with Ezekiel now? Aunt Carol? I’m a little lost.

· Judith promising to keep an eye on Dog and Daryl having her promise to keep an eye on Carol. He loves her so much. It’s almost like…you know what? I swear to god if they went canon off-screen and had their first kiss and everything but exchanged those three words…

· Judith looking at Aunt Carol while telling Daryl he deserves a happy ending too is obviously a subtlety lost on a certain faction of shippers and I cannot fathom why because it is so very loud, lol.

· The fact that Judith called him Daryl instead of Uncle Daryl makes me think he’s still involved in their lives and loves them very much but he’s not involved in their everyday lives and he’s distancing himself from them. Then again, it could just be that Judith’s growing up because Cailey has grown so very much since she first started the show.

· Speaking of growing up, dwell on this little nugget. Daryl’s been in Judith’s life from the start. Rick was only there for maybe the first 3 years. Like the man has missed the entirety of RJ’s life and the majority of Judith’s and then they had Michonne leave them basically searching for a needle in a haystack, no guarantee she’d ever find him or make it back to them, and now she’s missed what? Almost 2 years of those babies’ lives? I know the storyline was steered a certain way because of Danai’s exit from the show but it will never sit well with me that a woman, fictional though she may be, would ever leave her children to go on a search that might lead to absolutely nothing in such a dangerous world. Especially with her history of losing Andre. By the time Michonne (and Rick) makes it back, those kids could be half grown and that’s sad AF.

· That hug between Ezekiel and Daryl was a weird touch but hey. Maybe they’ve made their peace with each other and their respective places in Carol’s life.

· I mean, Ezekiel took those kids with him to give Daryl some privacy saying goodbye to her so.

· Carol waiting by Daryl’s bike. 😊 ☹. She’s never shied away from showing Daryl affection in the past. Pre the Prison falling. She’s been more reticent and careful since then unless they’ve embraced. Then she’s clung to him like a lifeline she never wants to let go of. The way she fusses over him and his poncho seems domestic AF and like something a wife would do. Plus, it’s giving her a reason not to look directly into his eyes because she doesn’t want to risk falling apart like she did a little bit at the riverside. Honestly it feels like she’s trying desperately not to ask him to stay. With her.

· Daryl telling Carol he loves her is a huge deal. HUGE. Carol saying it back to him is just as big because Lizzie is the only person we’ve ever heard her say it to. And look. I think she is trying to inject some lightness into a heavy moment because despite what she said to him while they were sitting on that bench? She doesn’t want him to go. He doesn’t want to leave her. He looks like he wants to change her mind before he rides off. She wants to make it easier for him and I want to die.

· I don’t think anything will ever hurt me as bad as watching him ride off without her. FUCK AMC for that. Because it didn’t have to be that way, solo spinoff or not. They could have still left together. They could have shared those “I love you’s” and a kiss 12 years in the making. If this episode wasn’t a springboard for the spinoffs like Gimple claimed it wasn’t? Why not give us and them the whole enchilada? It’s been more than earned. They could have gone all in on them, finally made clear that they were IN LOVE, had them leave TOGETHER, and then cut to a shot where Daryl wakes up somewhere by himself and calls out her name or vice versa. Same result. Still painful AF to think of them spending any time apart. But not without hope because they weren’t separated willingly or by some asinine reason that wasn’t even explicitly spoken. But I guess we all know why AMC didn’t do that, don’t we?

· UGGGGGGHHHHHHHH.

· I’m not going to say too much about that coda. It was bad. The clips of dearly departed characters, though. The clips of all the people they and we loved and them saying “we’re the ones that live”? Those parts struck a chord and made my heart swell with remembered love for this show. They’re the parts that gave me chills. The other parts were dramatic but meh. Otherwise, I think having Rick’s voice crackle over a walkie talkie or just getting a glimpse of his silhouette or even having him wake up in a hospital bed again a la the very first episode would have been much more effective and not locked them into anything so far as the spinoff goes or given too much away. But that’s just me. Your mileage may very well vary. I did find it fitting it ending with that shot of Judith and RJ. So there’s that.

· Anywho. Those are just some of my thoughts and there’s a lot of them but this is just the tip of the iceberg. I won’t bore you with anymore tonight, lol. Er, this morning. Happy Thanksgiving, lovelies. I’m headed to catch a few hours’ sleep.

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 spoilers #Series Finale spoilers #things that make me cry #for reasons #my heart

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aurora-boreas-borealis · 22 days

Note

Seven times flynn and crack is whack for this post plzz

Wait I forgot to fully finish that title 😭😭 I should never type when I’m tired

It’s ‘Seven times Flynn took care/helped someone on the team and one time they helped him’ I really wanted to explore him being the heart of the team and what that entails!

—————————————

“Time freeze!”

Suddenly, the next thing he hears is Tenaya’s screams and the smashing of crates mixed with the surrounding noise of frantic footsteps. Letting out a breath he never remembers holding, Dillon opens his eyes to find Flynn is standing where Tenaya once stood, leaning down to give him a helping hand.

“You alright there, Dillon?”

Panting, he grabs the offered hand and Flynn hauls him up to his feet, his head spinning at the sudden whoosh. His legs tremble under the weight, causing him to sway slightly. He falls into the shorter man, who grabs his right arm and slings it across his shoulders, letting him lean against him.

“Thanks.” Dillon murmurs, drained.

“No problem, mate.”

—————————————

Crack is whack LOL, okay so the fic is nothing to do with the title, I actually read a text fic with that saying and it has been stuck in my head since. However, it’s close to being finished! I just keep putting it off :’D

(honestly most of my titles is just me typing random bullshit until I come up with a proper name after I finish writing)

So uh this one, honestly I’m not sure what it fully is? A headcanon or maybe it’s something else, either way skin condition is conditioning and writing about it helps! In this, Flynn is dealing with an eczema flare up after an awkward battle

—————————————

Grimacing, Flynn continues his search.

He’s tried as many moisturisers he can get his hands on in Corinth but they haven’t worked. And to make it worse, even his usual go-to moisturiser wasn’t working, which really put a dampener on his optimism.

Surprisingly, this latest flare up stemmed from an attack bot of all things. It had cornered him outside of the dome and de-morphed him in the process and fighting in a wasteland under intense heat didn’t really do him any favours.

After the battle, his skin felt like it was screaming at him as it scratched uncomfortably against his clothes, which resulted in one of the worst flare-ups he’s had in a while.

#ask #skyland2703

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kxnsy · 3 years

Text

Night Moves Pt. III - Jake Kiszka

Summary// a storyline based off of the song Night Moves by Bob Seger. Jake and you have found yourselves in quite the predicament, and you both decide to make the most of it.

Warnings// 18+ please! this is pure smut. mentions of alcohol/underage drinking, risky shenanigans, and a whole lot of fun ;)

Word Count// 7.8k (yikes lol)

Author's Note// This took sooo long to finally be posted and I'm so sorry! I kept battling with how I wanted this chapter to go, as I have one final idea for this series that will now have to be continued in a part 4. As for this chapter, I definitely got carried away and just couldn't stop writing lol. I wanted to thank everyone once again for all of the love you have showed both part 1 and 2, it means so much<3

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy! :)

-Kensy♡

Night Moves Pt. I

Night Moves Pt. II

There is something so peculiar about the idea of intimacy. Although intimacy comes in many forms, and has been stereotypically morphed into something that you experience while in a relationship, you’ve been experiencing, what you would describe as, the peak definition of intimacy with Jake.

It became a weekly thing, you and Jake’s little experimental rendezvous. The first few remained purely inquisitive, as you two continued sneaking out in the heat of late summer nights. You both eased into everything you tried, though you do have to admit that dirty talk and spanking seemed to be the easiest ideas you opened your mind to (self-explanatory). Despite each encounter that never failed to leave you slightly sore and included some awkward moments, you loved them all for different reasons.

Like that time that Jake ran his hands down your spine as you two tried out doggy style for the first time. His breath was ragged behind you as you were bent over in front of him, back arched and face in a pillow. He couldn’t take his eyes off of your ass; the way it would bounce with each one of his thrusts, the red hand print sat on the center of your left cheek, God it was all so hot.

“Tell me how you feel, babe,” he grunted out in a hushed tone. You turned your head to the side, gulping in a deep breath as his hand smoothed over his own hand print.

“You’re so deep, Jake. Never been this filled up before.” Though this was still a fairly early session, you already knew dirty talk was absolutely the way to Jake’s orgasm.

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this,” he hissed out in response. His tongue ran across his bottom lip before he pulled it between his teeth as he hummed in satisfaction.

As he neared his orgasm, he slowed his pace down, experimenting with deep and smooth thrusts. Your fingers curled around his grey bed sheets as your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You couldn’t even form a sound, you just laid there in pure ecstasy as your mouth hung open, short breaths releasing from your tense chest with each stroke of Jake’s cock.

“Yeah, you like that, huh? Like me goin’ real slow so you can feel how deep I am?” He leaned down near your face now, one hand resting at your hip and the other holding his weight by your head.

You hummed in agreement, sucking in a sharp breath as his hand left another firm smack on your ass just as he thrusted into you again.

He sat back up, his pace quickening as he snapped his hips to meet yours in a broken rhythm. This is what drove you over the edge; the sound of his periodic praises, dropping into the hot air nearly every second as he neared his own orgasm. In response to his sweet words and fast pace, you felt the familiar heat in your stomach spread throughout your limbs, mind buzzing in pure pleasure. You convulsed around Jake, hearing him mutter your name with a string of curses once more before he pulled out of you. You felt his warm cum land on your ass and lower back, and you tried your best to remain still in your post-orgasmic state as he finished on you.

You always loved the first few minutes after each interaction. Jake would clean off whatever mess he had left on you before leaving a sweet kiss on your hot skin. He would put his boxers on first, then grab your undergarments from wherever they had landed and hand them to you.

If it was in his truck, he would lean against his door, hands behind his head as he watched you place your bra and underwear back on. Then, you climbed in his lap, moving his hair back behind his ears and ramble about something completely random. He would chime in, too, eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. If it was one of your rooms, you would lay in bed together, facing one another and, once again, spark up a conversation about truly nothing in particular.

You two stayed like that for just a few minutes, touching each other with your bare skin in what you had to remind yourself was a “friendly” way.

When you two eventually returned to your own houses, it was quiet for the rest of the night. The first couple of times, you had tried to text him afterwards, eagerly awaiting some flirty response back. But, nothing ever came until the next morning and it was something along the lines of, “Sorry, I fell asleep. You tired me out again ;) but what’s up?” At that point, you decided that you were too conscious to attempt any risky remarks, so you usually responded with something about hanging out.

When you did actually hang out with Jake during the day, it was always with others around, and almost every time it was with his brothers. You had your own little lawn chair reserved in their garage for their band practices. Sam, cheeky little bugger he was, even wrote on a piece of duct tape and attached it to your chair for the occasional other spectators to know who’s chair it was: “(Y/N) - Greta Van Fleet’s #1 Groupie”. You enjoyed spending time with his family, it was a comfortable environment and nothing new from what you generally did…save for the fact that you were now fucking Jake.

–

It was nearing the beginning of August, and you and Jake had amped up the activity to nearly every other day. It was either hang out with him and his brothers during the day, or sneak out together at night, sometimes even both. What could you say? You two were completely enamored with each others sexual capabilities. It was just too perfect, you knew exactly what he wanted, and he knew exactly what you needed.

At some point over the summer, the boys had garnered attention from local bars and theaters. With their newfound attention, they had begun performing at some of these spots, and they were ecstatic. You were at their house the first time their mother came out to the garage and broke the news that they had an offer to play at the bar in town, known for hosting live music every weekend. They all jumped and hollered, including Jake, and you couldn’t hold back your excitement either. You stood to congratulate them, Josh being the first to reach out with open arms and grab you into a warm hug. You knew it was out of pure joy, but as you looked to Jake, his smile dropped just the faintest bit that if you hadn’t been watching him before, you wouldn't have noticed. As Josh pulled back, you went to hug Jake next, feeling as though you needed to compensate him for something. He hugged you hastily, pulling back before you could even get the word, “Congratulations,” passed your lips.

When the weekend finally arrived and it was nearing the time for the boys to perform, you finished getting ready before making your way to the bar. You had to have checked your appearance a dozen times in the rear-view mirror as you drove. Nonetheless, you fixed your hair just how you wanted it before exiting the car and entering through the front entrance of the bar.

You chatted with the boys’ mother’s and sister’s as you watched their father’s and them set up all of their gear. You suggested that you were going to offer some help, but they all insisted that the boys do it themselves, especially since they’re so picky.

With just under an hour before they were supposed to begin and the bar opened, they had finished setting up and the boys made their way over to you and their families.

Jake stood by you, his arm resting on the bar and the other in the pocket of his dark jeans. You couldn’t have made it anymore obvious that you were soaking in his appearance. He wore a black short-sleeve button down t-shirt, the first few buttons left undone to reveal his tanned skin. As he leaned against his hand, his arm muscles strained against the sleeves at his biceps, and you shamelessly eyed his veins running down his forearms as well.

“You excited?” He questioned, eyebrows quirking slightly as he bit back a smile.

“Of course, but I should be the one asking you that,” you snapped out of your daze to land your eyes on his again.

“Actually, I’m kinda hungry. I was thinkin’ we could run to the gas station and grab some snacks before the show.” He stood back up straight, one hand running through his hair and the other remained in his pocket. You caught a glimpse of his slight happy trail as his shirt raised with the movement of his arm, and you took a deep breath before considering.

“I mean, if you’re willing to risk missing the first song because you’re so indecisive with chip flavors, that’s fine with me.” You heard Sam let out a chuckle behind you as Josh chimed in with an equally as snarky comment, to which Jake rolled his eyes. You hopped down from the bar stool, asking if anyone else wanted anything before you left.

As you two walked back towards your car, Jake placed his hands on your waist from behind you, stopping you in your tracks. His nimble fingers slid into the pocket of your jacket, feeling around until he felt the cool metal of your car keys. He pulled them out, tossing them in the air and snatching them just as fast. He walked ahead of you now, still facing you and showcasing his beautiful smile.

“Come on, I’m starving,” he motioned towards the car as he dragged out his words.

Once in your car, you half expected him to jump at you and mention something about your outfit; afterall, you had worn a skirt just for his easy access. Instead, Jake put the keys in ignition, looking to you before backing out and driving towards the gas station. You huffed in frustration and confusion, crossing your legs away from Jake in an attempt to let him know you were bothered.

“What? This isn’t what you expected?” He smirked at you as he approached a redlight.

“Um no, I kinda figured you had some pre-show ritual all planned out. But, I guess I can wait until after the show.” You tipped your chin up at the last sentence, trying to show him that you aren’t as desperate as your soaked panties would indicate.

“Oh really? You’re gonna be patient the whole time and not beg me to fuck you?” He scoffed through a smile before continuing.

He placed a warm hand on your crossed thigh, squeezing it in a sudden motion to get your full attention, “I find that extremely hard to believe.”

You turned to face him fully now, legs uncrossing, which allowed him to slip his hand closer to your core, but only an inch. You reached over now, placing your hand even higher than his on his thigh. You felt him tense beneath your touch, and you looked to his waistline to take in the sight of his budding erection.

You chuckled before speaking, “Oh Jake, I don’t think you realize just how competitive I am. I won’t cave, because unlike you, I can excuse myself to the bathroom at any point tonight.” His head whipped around to face you, eyes squinting as if daring you to continue your thought out loud.

You let your hand slide just a bit further up his thigh, squeezing it just as he did to yours.

“And while I’m in there, I’ll touch myself to the sound of you playing the guitar throughout the entire building. And I’ll picture your hands, the ones that will be stroking your guitar just right, all over me. You’ll just have to watch me sneak away to the bathroom while you’re on stage, pitching a tent for the whole town to see.”

His hand on your thigh snapped up to grab your jaw, holding you mere inches from his face.

“Listen here, babe. When I tell you that I won’t touch you for the rest of the summer, I mean it. You wanna test your limits, by all means do it. I’ll manage without my little toy on hand at any time.”

His words went straight to your core, a ball of heat already pooling in the pit of your stomach. He smiled menacingly as he felt your thigh twitch under his grasp.

He released your jaw, but not before placing a chaste kiss to your lips. His hands grabbed the steering wheel, turning the music up with his middle finger on the back of the steering wheel. You missed the warmth his hand provided on your thigh. You found yourself back to square one, huffing out another deep sigh and crossing your arms and legs, and you bit back a mocking tone as you heard Jake let out an entertained scoff at your pout.

The remainder of the time leading up to their performance was split between eating the snacks that you and Jake had purchased and conversing with the boys and their families. You managed to control yourself a bit once you had gotten back to the bar, telling yourself that you could wait until after the show for Jake to take you. He knew it was hard for you, though, because it was extremely hard for him.

So with less than ten minutes until they were going to begin, you made your way to the bathroom, just to ensure you wouldn’t get the urge to pee in the middle of their set.

As you washed your hands and fixed your hair once more in the mirror, you heard a knock on the door. You spoke loud enough in hopes that the person outside would hear you as you said, “Just a minute!”

You opened the door, a smile on your lips and an apology on your tongue ready to roll right off as you were met with Jake’s smiling face. He pushed you back into the bathroom, the dim lighting suiting his features perfectly.

“Are you caving, Jake?” You teased him with a smirk, placing your hands on his waist.

He shook his head before speaking.

“Not even close, baby. Just gonna make it even harder for you.” Before you could question him, his lips were on yours and his hands landed on your hips, guiding you back against the wall. He slipped his thumbs beneath the waistband of your little black skirt, running across the skin of your hip bones.

He pulled back from your lips with a smile, rutting his hips against yours just so, and your head fell back against the wall. He hummed in satisfaction before trailing kisses down your neck, sending a shiver throughout your body. He bit down on the skin near your collarbone, and your hands shot up to tangle in his hair. You let out a soft sigh in content as he rolled his hardening dick into your pelvic bone, the cool metal of his belt reaching past the cloth of your shirt to tease your skin.

He tilted your head to meet his lips just how he wanted, slipping his tongue into your mouth before you could even think about what he was doing. He pulled your hips to meet his as he continued to grind against you, and he groaned in your mouth as you pulled on his hair.

Just as you were about to widen your legs to let him stand between them, he pulled back sharply. He stepped away from you completely, eyeballing your frazzled state: Hair frizzy and somewhat knotted, cheeks pink and lips swollen, and your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath.

He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “You’re so easy to please, baby. And you always look so fucking pretty.” He laced his hand through his hair, turning to face the mirror to fix his own matted mess.

He looked to you once more before turning towards the door. “Be a good girl for me, (Y/N), and I’ll make the wait worth it after the show.”

Once he was gone, you grumbled in frustration. This was going to be very hard.

–

The show was unlike any band practice you had sat through. Though you had been there for the rehearsals and the planning of the setlist, you really couldn’t even tell it was the same as it came to life when they performed in front of a live audience.

You couldn’t resist the beaming smile your face held the entirety of the show, resulting in sore cheeks, but you could care less about the pain. The boys looked amazing, dressed casually cool, yet sporting jewels and necklaces that glittered beneath the few lights set up around their make-shift stage.

Though you would never admit it to him, your eyes were practically glued to Jake the whole time. He was just mesmerizing: the way his head swung from side to side with each strum of the guitar, his excited stomps as he trudged around the stage, and God the way his hair would flip as he tossed his head back during his solos. How could you not be entranced by him?

As the boys bid the stage adieu, you made your way to the room in the back of the bar where the boys’ had left some of their personal belongings. You sat on the counter of the dry bar against the wall, facing the doorway, ready to congratulate the boys. Their presence was announced long before they entered the room as they hollered in excitement down the hallway. You smiled, bracing yourself for the adrenaline-rushed antics that were soon to come.

Before you knew it, you were taking a celebratory shot with the boys as their parents settled on their beer to raise in a toast.

“To the first live Greta Van Fleet show, and hopefully many more to come.” Jake looked around the room with an intense, yet cheerful gaze before raising his shot glass in the air. Everyone harmoniously spoke into the warm air of the room, raising their glasses to their lips before letting out another holler of enthusiasm.

Jake turned to face you first, making sure he captivated your attention before any other band members could, not that you needed any help with that.

“How’d I do up there?” He smirked down at you, cheeks red and face glimmering just perfectly as a sheen of sweat coated his features.

You hummed as you thought to yourself. “I would say you’ve got your first groupie, rockstar.” You teased him with a slight touch to his arm, pushing it jokingly as you leaned into him. He smiled a genuine smile now, and you soaked in his bubbly demeanor.

“That’s just perfect, it’s the only reason I even learned to play guitar in the first place.” At this point, you couldn’t contain the giddy smile forming on your cheeks, feeling a dull ache in them from all of the smiling you had done tonight.

As the boys reminisced on the performance, you couldn’t forget about the little deal you and Jake had made before the show. You watched him as he explained a part in the show where he felt the music the most, speaking with his hands animatedly, once again mesmerizing you. You watched as his fingers moved to gesture to him playing his guitar, his arms curling and flexing as he leaned back and forth, reciprocating the motion he actually does while playing. When was he going to catch on that you still weren’t over the whole bathroom moment prior to his performance?

As the boys and their families continued on with their stories, you pulled Jake’s arm softly, directing his attention towards you. He looked to you intuitively, eyebrows scrunched and lips somewhat pursed.

You leaned closer to him, dropping your voice to a whisper before speaking. “So are you going to completely ignore that I’m still waiting for a continuation of the action before the show?”

Jake looked you in the eyes now, a playful spark in his eyes, and an even more playful smirk on his lips.

“Just tell me you want me to dick you down, babe, simple as that. No need to complicate it.” He cocked his head as he gauged your reaction, then smirked even wider as he saw your eyes widen just a bit, followed by your legs clenching together on the bar stool you were seated at.

You caught a glimpse of Josh looking over to you, tilting his own head and furrowing his brows in slight confusion, but you smiled softly to him, waiting for him to smile back and focus on Sam again, who was explaining why he went barefoot during the show.

Once you realized Josh was distracted, you dramatically dropped the smile you put on display for Josh before facing Jake once again. You squinted your eyes at him, only forcing an even wider smile from the man himself.

“I’m gonna be honest here, Jake, I figured Josh would be a better fuck tonight. He might actually give me what I want, when I want it. I don’t like waiting, sweetheart.” You gave him the most sarcastic smile you could as you spoke with an overly cadenced tone.

His smirk faltered, eyes capturing yours in a dense stare. He sucked on the inside of his cheek for just a moment, nodding his head slightly before leaning into you close enough that you could feel his warm breath on your cheek as he spoke.

“Really? Is that what you were thinking the whole time you fucked me with your eyes tonight? And, if I remember correctly, you were the one begging me to fuck you like the slut you are before the show, sweetheart.” He leaned away from you, the smug smirk back on his face, and he seemed satisfied with your state of being after you processed his words.

You really couldn’t hide your obviously aroused disposition. Your legs were subconsciously squeezed together in search of some sort of friction, but also tense from the shock that Jake’s words sent through you. Your cheeks were blazing pink by now, partly from the alcohol, but mostly because of how close Jake was to you. You looked absolutely delicious right now, and Jake wanted to devour you whole.

Before you could even realize it, Jake had you walking through the hallway that led to the back entrance of the bar. He had somehow come up with an excuse for the two of you to step away from the boys and the families, but you couldn’t quite remember what Jake had told them, as your ears were ringing with the amount of blood rushing through them. You just followed Jake out of the room with a hand on your lower back, ushering you even faster to the exit.

As you ventured further down the hallway and into the dim lighting, Jake’s hand slid from your back to your ass, giving it a tight squeeze before playfully spanking you. You inhaled sharply as it disrupted your dazed mindset, finally turning towards Jake with a somewhat puzzled expression.

He admired the look on your face: perplexity blended with hunger, and he couldn’t help but let out a low hum, closer to a groan, at the absolute desire you brought forth in him.

He snaked his hand around your neck, resting right against the base of your neck, the other hand placed tightly at your waist. He pulled your body against his before meeting your lips in a heated kiss. There was no time for teasing, no time for gentle pecks, no time to waste in this hallway, fully clothed and not yet skin-to-skin.

He nipped at your bottom lip, earning a soft sigh from you before walking you backwards towards the exit. He never broke from the kiss, using your tongue and dainty noises as fuel for his mission. You felt the warm breeze of summer air lick at the bottom of your skirt, raising it slightly and Jake smiled in the kiss as his hand on your waist slid down to your ass, humming into your mouth as he felt your bare skin.

He used this as leverage to lift you suddenly, your legs now wrapped tightly around his waist as he seamlessly carried you towards what you thought was your car.

As your back met a stiff and rough surface, you broke from the kiss to turn your head and look at your surroundings. You noticed the narrow ounce of light that filtered through the small entrance of both sides of your location, and then it clicked: Jake had you pinned against the back wall of the bar, in a hidden little alley way.

You looked to him, questioning his sanity for a moment. He chuckled at your expression, clicking his tongue before speaking.

“You wanna act like a slut, you’re gonna get fucked like one too.” His tone was sharp, but his eyes were the most gentle they had been in the past half hour. They searched your face for any indication of resistance. He wanted to know that this was okay with you, and he proved that by lifting his eyebrows slightly, nodding his head forward.

In return, you smiled up at him, pulling him in for another kiss, this one the softest one you’ve had all night.

“I’ll be your play thing for the night.” Your voice was hoarse, but the message was clear. Jake smirked at your answer, eating up the soft moans that spilled from your lips as he grinded his hips into yours once again.

You felt one of his hands leave your ass, slipping between your legs that were wrapped around his waist. He hiked your skirt up higher on your hips, shoving the material around your thighs away from the place he wanted to get to the most.

It started with his hand sliding up your thigh, nice and slow. But as soon as his mouth left yours and began biting at your neck, his hand resisted no longer. He brushed his knuckle against your core, a satisfied hum leaving his lips at the wetness that soaked through your panties.

“So wet, babe. Who’s it all for, hm?” He spoke against your neck, sucking a bruise at the base of your neck as he finished his sentence. You bit your lip in an attempt to stifle a moan before collecting your thoughts.

“It’s all for you, Jake. You get me so fucking turned on when your performing,” you huffed out, feeling his teeth and lips working in conjunction against your delicate skin.

His knuckles that were teasing your clothed core switched to his thumb, pressing directly over your clit, circling it slowly. With each rotation, your hips jerked closer in search of more contact, and your legs spazzed around his waist. He pulled away from your neck, gaze flicking between your scrunched face and rolling hips.

“Please, please give me more. You made me wait so long for you, babe,” You begged between his thumb’s movement.

“I think you’re forgetting I had to wait too.” He pressed into your clit harder for a moment, then circled his thumb faster, per your request.

You were a writhing mess against the wall of the alleyway, feeling his tense stare bore right through you, but you didn’t care. You were getting off to the feeling of him, the sight of him, and the knowledge of his enjoyment as well. It was truly an all-immersive experience everytime you fucked Jake.

He slid your panties to the side in an instant before his fingers gently slid over your entrance. He teased you, patronizingly slow, with subtle pressure and soft kisses on your cheek. You jerked your hips once more, yearning for his fingers to be knuckle deep inside of you. Jake scoffed against your cheek, placing his mouth by your ear as his finger paused their movement right against your entrance.

“So impatient,” he whispered, kissing your ear softly.

“But you’re such a good girl, baby, how could I say no to you?”

Before you could comment back, his fingers thrust inside of you, setting a deep and fast pace. You moaned into his neck, arms curling around his neck even more as your hips freely pressed into his fingers.

He continued pumping his fingers in and out of you, feeling your nails claw at his shoulders with each thrust. Somehow, over the span of this summer that you two had been fucking, he had learned exactly where to curl his fingers in your pussy to make you absolutely feral. He found that spot with ease now, forcing a sharp inhale to come from you.

Your breath hitched as he finger fucked you to infinity. His lips were pressed to your ear now, alternating between kisses and filthy statements, like, “Keep quiet, baby, don’t wanna get caught,” and “You’re so fucking wet around my fingers, listen to yourself.” Your eyes rolled back at the thought of it all: possibly getting caught by a stranger or even someone from the band and your pussy being so wet that it was audible in the way he was finger fucking you.

Jake noticed the familiar way your body tensed up as you neared your orgasm. He smiled menacingly as he listened to you cry out his name, mixed with foul profanities. His pace remained steady, his arm wrapped around your waist remained strong, and his words remained vulgar as you clenched around his fingers, a final cry of pleasure slipping past your lips.

“I’m not done with you yet, babe.”

In the most gentle way possible, Jake released his hold on your hips, dropping you to the ground carefully. Your knees wobbled beneath the force of gravity and pleasure currently coursing through your veins. He wrapped a hand around your waist, guiding you down the alley way back towards your car.

There was no hesitation in his actions as he opened the door to your backseat, urging you in with a hand on your ass. You stepped in, making a show of it just for his eager eyes, arching your back slightly as you crawled across the leather seat. You yelped in surprise as a firm smack landed on your ass, and you looked over your shoulder at him to find him crawling in behind you.

The minute the door closed, he pounced on you, laying you back against the seat. His lips collided with yours in an instant before slipping his tongue into your mouth, meeting your tongue.

It was hot, it was carnal, it was fucking lewd how desperate you were for him, lifting your hips off of the seat to meet his. You mewled out into the night, a hand tangled in his hair as his hands roamed the expense of your waist.

He pulled back for a moment, slipping his shirt over his head. He paused, taking in your disheveled appearance: hair messy from the friction of it sitting against the brick wall, mascara slightly smudged under your eyes, lips puffy and parting with each exasperated breath passing them. You looked beautiful right now, in a dark and twisted way. The corner of his mouth curled up into a devilish smirk before he spoke.

“You look so fucking good tonight. You’re gonna kill me, babe.” He shook his head, tongue darting out to run over his lips before resuming the kiss.

His hands crept beneath your shirt and up your back. You arched into his chest in an effort to ease his movements, his fingers nearing the clasp of your bra. In a matter of seconds, he had unclasped your bra and removed your shirt along with it. Awe transformed his face as his eyes ate you up. It was nothing he hadn’t seen many, many times before, but there was nothing quite like the rush you gave him every time.

His hands slid up your stomach slowly as his lips met yours again with vigor. The kiss consisted of teeth gnashing, lip biting, tongue against tongue, and soft moans in each others’ mouths. You inhaled sharply at the feeling of Jake’s fingers teasing your nipples, circling them before pinching them softly. His hands squeezed your breasts as his mouth swallowed your eager whines. He sighed into your mouth as your hands began working at his belt.

Your movements halted for a brief movement as Jake’s lips left yours and traced a path to your chest. The feeling of his tongue swirling against your nipple sent a wave of throbbing pleasure to your core, and you found yourself clutching one of Jake’s hands and bringing it to your clothed pussy. He breathed out a chuckle at your desperation, pulling back from your chest to look at you once again.

“Tell me what you want.” He spoke in a deep tone, staring into your eyes and his knuckle languidly tracing circles over your clothed clit. Your breath hitched in your throat and you swallowed, forcing your brain to piece together a sentence rather than sit in the mush of pleasure it had been in.

“Want you to fuck me like never before, Jake. I wanna be all yours,” you whispered. You placed a hand on his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, even kissing the palm of your hand. He smiled at your blissed out expression.

“Anything for my pretty girl.”

Before you could react, he worked on your skirt. You lifted your hips for him as he yanked it down your legs, eyes raking over the newly exposed skin. He bit his lip in anticipation before pulling down your black panties. His eyes met yours and you couldn’t miss the spark gleaming in them. He tucked your panties in the back pocket of his jeans, winking at you as you lay naked before him.

You sat up in an instant, feeling that the current situation was unfair. He leaned back, sitting on his knees as you met his lips with a chaste kiss before placing your hands on his waist. You tugged on his belt, maintaining eye contact as he smirked down at you. He helped you with his pants, your hands excitedly tugging his jeans off of him. And there he sat before you, now clad in only his notorious black boxers.

He sat back in the seat, removing his boxers before lazily stroking his cock. This was what made you fucking weak. The way he’d jerk himself off right before sex, keeping his eyes dead set on yours, mouth open slightly and his tongue occasionally running across his bottom lip before his teeth took it’s place. Noticing the effect he had on you, he grinned with a smug look in his eyes.

You shoved his hand away as you slid onto his lap. He placed his hands on your hip, urging you forward in his grasp. You obliged, but you placed a hand on his chest to keep somewhat of a distance. He watched as you reached between the two of you, wrapping your digits around his hard dick and stroking him just as he had done seconds before. His head lulled back to sit on the head rest behind him. His mouth let a whispered, “Fuck,” slip passed, and now it was your turn to feel high and mighty.

Before you could continue your teasing, Jake grabbed his dick, running it up and down your entrance so quickly you could barely process it. He placed a hand on your shoulder before slipping his cock into you. He pressed down on your shoulder slightly, urging you to sink further onto him.

You’d think after countless excursions with Jake, you’d be used to his girth and length, but each time he entered you, you couldn’t hold in the wanton sound that filled the air. Right alongside you, of course, Jake let out his own share of curses and sinful sounds, which is what urged you to begin rolling your hips against his.

“Oh my God, Jake.” You were already breathless, belly feeling hot at the feeling of him filling you up just right.

The hand he had on your hip squeezed at the skin softly, insisting you move faster. You began rocking back and forth against him, the collision of your hips curating a subtle slapping sound between the two of you.

Your eyes screwed shut at the feeling of Jake’s hand moving up to your breast, squeezing it softly before attaching his lips to it once again. Out of pure curiosity, you looked down to watch, and found yourself meeting Jake’s intense gaze as he stared back at you with hooded eyes. He hummed around your nipple, causing your lips to drop into an “O” shape before letting out a dull moan at the sight before you.

His hips snapped up into yours. You shrieked in ecstasy, feeling your legs go numb for just a second as he reached deep inside you. He pulled away from your chest with a wet sound that was so explicit you could have shivered at the noise. Both hands sat on your hips bones now, holding you in place as his hips slammed up into you.

“Mm baby, you feel so good,” you choked out. He grabbed your ass, squeezing it before landing a spank on it. You rolled your hips deeper into him at the sensation, earning praise from him.

You could feel the fire in your gut getting hotter, and you knew it wouldn’t be much longer with the way he was fucking up into you. Before you could look down to him again, his hands lifted you off of him in an instant. He sat you on the seat once again but you were soon pushed down into a lying position with his hand on your shoulder. He hovered over you now, hand stroking his dick quickly. You reached out and gripped his hips, pulling him closer to you.

He stopped your movements with a hand on your waist. He grabbed the outside of your right thigh before lifting it up and over his shoulder.

“Gonna fuck you so well, baby,” he huffed out.

“Please,” you whined before pulling his face to meet yours for a kiss.

He slid his dick back into you, resuming his pace as if he had never paused. You broke the kiss as a vulgar sound ripped from your throat. He hummed in return, grinding his hips even harder into you.

“Like that, baby? Huh, you like when I fuck you nice and deep?” He chuckled at your desperate cries.

You nodded your head furiously, eyes screwing shut tightly as a result of the searing pleasure building within you. You felt his hand grab your chin, forcing your eyes open.

“Look at me with those pretty little eyes.” His voice was deep and demanding, but this was a sentiment you had never heard before, and it had you all sorts of flustered. You obediently opened them, holding his gaze with your own. He smirked and muttered a gruff, “Good girl,” in response to your actions.

You could no longer control the sounds passing your lips. The way his hips kept a steady and brutal pace to urge you closer to your climax, the way his words floated around your head to keep you a puddle in his hands, and the way he was holding such intense eye contact were enough to make you cum right then and there. And you did.

Your hands found their way on his cheek and around his neck, pulling him as close as possible as you clenched around him. Your head fell back against the seat, eyes rolling back to see white hot pleasure. Your leg twitched in Jake’s hand, the other pulling his hips closer as it wrapped around his waist.

He leaned his head down to rest on your forehead as his pace faltered, hips moving lazily against your own.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum (Y/N),” he groaned between gritted teeth. Your name sounded life a curse word rolling off of his tongue, and it topped the pleasure tenfold as your climax raced through you.

Jake’s hand squeezed your thigh as his cock twitched inside you. You felt him cum in you, your name passing his lips with expletives as he pumped in and out of you one final time.

He lay against your body limply, resting his head in the crook of your neck as you both attempted to catch your breath.

Jake was the first to move, his hands pushing off of the seat to lift himself off of you. He slipped a hand into his hair, tossing it back from his face as he looked you over.

“You alright, babe?”

You turned your head to face him, smiling at the sight. Your heart fluttered in your chest at the pet name, even though you'd heard it plenty of times.

“Mhm, just thinkin’ about how worth the wait it was.” He chuckled at your answer as he slipped his boxers back on. He handed you your skirt, and as you asked for your underwear, he shook his head at you, smiling wide before saying, “Those are a memoir from our first live show. You can’t have them back, (Y/N).”

As you both finished getting dressed (with the remaining clothes you had), you hopped into the driver’s seat and started the car. You were shocked to see Jake joining you in the passenger seat.

“Aren’t you going back inside with the boys?”

He shook his head, leaning back in the seat as his head tilted against the headrest.

“No, I kinda just wanted to hang with you for the rest of the night, if that’s cool with you.”

You were stunned, to say the least. I mean, you two were obviously very comfortable around each other, but you technically hadn’t hung out one-on-one without some sort of sexual affiars panning out.

“Y-yeah, sure. Whatever you wanna do, rockstar.” You put the car in drive, handing the aux to Jake. You looked to him once more, finding him staring at you with his head still resting against the headrest, a smile softly laced on his lips. He grabbed the aux cord from you before playing some soft, melodic songs.

–

On the ride over, you informed Jake that your parents were gone for the weekend, meaning he wouldn’t have to sneak in through the window this time. He laughed before murmuring words of appreciation.

As you and Jake grabbed a bottle of red wine from the cabinet, you couldn’t help but discuss the show now. You mentioned your favorite parts, which were pretty much all Jake, and he asked you how certain songs sounded from the crowd’s perspective. It was a conversation that felt entirely too comfortable, considering he just fucked you the best you had ever had an hour ago.

You two sat on your bed, Jake laying on his side, head propped up by his elbow. You sat cross-legged in front of him, playing with a loose thread in your comforter.

“You know, if this whole band thing ever does get serious, I want you to be there for it all. I mean, you’ve been with us since the beginning.” He looked up at you, eyes gleaming in what you thought to be drunken admiration.

You feigned consideration, humming with thought. He pushed your knee in a teasing manner, but his hand lingered on your thigh. You looked down to him, noticing his eyes flickering between your lips and eyes.

“Hey (Y/N)?” His eyes remained on yours with an affectionate gaze.

“Yeah?” You swallowed in anticipation of what could possibly be next.

“Can I kiss you?”

Even after all you two had done together, Jake asked if he could kiss you. Your heart fluttered in your ribcage, cheeks immediately flushing. You nodded softly, whispering out a soft, “yes.”

His hand on your thigh moved to your cheek, pulling you gently towards him. He tilted his head up to inch closer to your lips. You closed your eyes as your pulse beat against your veins.

His lips met yours with fervor, yet something about it was so tender. Maybe it was the way his thumb caressed your cheek as your lips moved against his. Or maybe it was the way his mouth tasted of sweet red wine, your favorite flavor, aside from him of course. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the way you were absolutely, completely enamored with Jake.

He pulled back first, eyes darting around your face for any indication of disdain. Instead, he found your smiling face and blushed cheeks. He smiled back at you, his forehead leaning in to rest on yours. There you two sat for a couple of seconds, forehead to forehead, eyes looking into one another's. And maybe the alcohol influenced this exact position in some way, preventing any feelings of awkwardness from surfacing, but it was perfect.

After you two pulled away from each other, you felt a rush of sleep enter your mind and that was all you could think about. You stripped down to your undergarments for the second time tonight before changing into pajamas. As you climbed into bed, you watched Jake remove his clothes as well, until he was left in only his boxers.

You wiggled your way over to him, nuzzling your head into your pillow before looking at him. He was facing you in almost the exact same position. He smiled at you with genuine joy, eyelashes fluttering over his big brown eyes.

“And somehow, we’ve made it back to how this all started,” he hummed out. You chuckled as you remembered how terrified you were waking up next to Jake that one morning after his party.

“You’re just that irresistible,” you jested. He responded by pulling your body closer to his with a hand draped over your waist. You gladly welcomed the embrace, snuggling into his warm chest.

You dozed off to sleep, the sound of Jake’s breath lulling you to sleep. You felt Jake plant a soft kiss to the top of your head before stroking your hair softly.

“Goodnight, sweet girl.”

The corner of your lip quirked up with the last remaining strength you had as you felt slumber taking over your mind.

Maybe just friends was an understatement…

#jake kiszka #greta van fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka x fm!reader #jake kiszka x reader #greta van fleet fanfic #jake kiszka smut #josh kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiszka #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fan fiction #jake kiszka au

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1kook · 4 years

Text

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags; jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away. His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

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travelling-on-the-octopath · 2 years

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Okay, playing through AG with the sis, and can I say? How completely forced the distrust towards Claude feels? "I trust the Alliance allies, but CLAUDE'S a different story!" "Who knows what Claude REALLY wants with us, best to keep an eye on HIM!" "Can never be too cautious with CLAUDE!"

And I'm like... he... hasn't done anything? On AG? To warrant any of this? Like this would be an entirely different story if they were like this after Claude is replaced by Clyde, but like Claude at this point is just, like... not doing anything. It feels weird cuz, like, yes, the Lions are in fact technically correct to distrust Claude because atrocious writing morphs him into an entirely different character, but nothing in the narrative really justifies them thinking SO poorly of Claude’s character in AG yet?

(And given the tiny bit I know of AG, I'm kinda questioning if it's warranted... ever, on specifically this route lmao)

It's like the game trying to ease the player in on how FUCKED over Claude’s character becomes, because while in 3H there was also distrust thrown his way from the Kingom side on AM 1) it wasn't NEARLY this reinforced over and over, and 2) the distrust... was actually wrong? And Claude was genuinely a good dude? Meanwhile here he's the biggest asshole on earth. It's just very off-putting I guess lmao

(I hope to god you're at the point in AG I think you are lfgjdj I don't delve into major spoilers, but there is an itty bitty detail that I mention a couple times so . here's hoping </3)

This is why I say the Lions walked away only mostly unscathed, because this also had me scratching my head. Like. Yeah, okay, Claude is known for his plots and schemes . . . if you've known him long enough.

Which. Which the Lions didn't lol?

This game seems keen on forgetting that these students spent two weeks in each other's company. I suppose you could say Claude revealed his oh-so cunning nature during the mock battle, but . . . but to completely distrust his character based on a mock battle? Where he was all bark and no bite anyway? Come on. Because you're right; people are a little wary of Claude on AM, but they had spent a year together at that point, and I think there's a much different tension to stretching yourselves thin to go help a person who's known for always having something up his sleeve than . . . accepting help from someone who is fighting this fight so damn well he has resources to spare and who gains literally nothing from fucking you over anyway. Like the minimal distrust there was pretty understandable, given what we were exposed to about Claude's character, but here it's very shoehorned in. It's a good example of the story relying on . . . not even emotional payoff from last time, just facts told in the last story that can't remain true here. It's strange.

And it's not like Claude just sends grunts to bolster Faerghus' forces, the way the Empire does to just ~check up on things~ and ~report them to Her Majesty~ in the Federation. No, Claude sends four of his most esteemed and trusted generals. He cut his inner circle by more than half and sent 'em over to Faerghus to help fuck up the Empire. The Lions know who they are, and should, at the very least, know what it means for Claude's own army. And yet . . . Claude is scheming. Plotting. What is Claude planning! (I'll tell you what he's doing he's helping you win this damn war --)

The problem with treating Claude with the same (or worse) skepticism from Houses and non-AG Hopes routes is that all he does on AG is his fucking job. Like setting aside that we, as the player, know that Claude sent over four of his highest ranking generals and friends . . . Claude is . doing what Claude does. Protecting Leicester, keeping causalities to a minimum, working toward peace by helping the Kingdom keep their independence and drive out the Empire. He was winning this war so hard he had four generals to spare. He's like a cat that left not a dead mouse on your doorstep, but four very neatly clipped flowers which also have medicinal uses. Like he's just. I dunno man people were pointing the finger for things he didn't do dklfjdlkjg. This game does not have Houses' continuity no matter how much it wishes it did. Goddamn. Making Claude out to be no worse than he ever was on Azure Moon (in fact, making him damn-near benevolent) and treating him with the same skepticism you would on Golden-fucking-Wildfire is a very poor writing choice.

As someone who's gone through AG already: Claude is a fucking blessing to the Kingdom, through and through. I'll keep the details minimal for you, but . . . yeah Claude's a fucking miracle lol. I actually quite enjoyed him on AG; if I hadn't had GW as context for his character, I would have just waved away some of his lines of nonsense retconning (which it is anyway, but it's relatively easy to ignore on a route that's so thoroughly Dimitri-and-Kingdom-focused).

#yeah they were so heavy handed with the ''claude is suspishus!!!'' ting #thing*#can't understand why seeing as he's basically a saint for this army but #oh well #s responds #fe #fe3h (the remix)#fire emblem warriors: three hopes spoilers #fewth spoilers #fea-and-fehf-headcanons #as always anyone is free to correct me if i've said something wrong

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cherryonigiri · 3 years

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nanami kento [evenings with you]

nanami kento x reader || cw: descriptions of blood/injuries, light angst

a/n: this is just self-indulgent writing for me but i'm v stressed about school rn and this is the result. just imagine that y/n is a bio/medical phd candidate lol.

Nanami can tell that you're stressed. Usually you savor the nights he's not on overtime, asking him about work and refusing to leave his side for most of the evening. He's used to you being attentive, so the fact that you've asked him the same question twice within the last ten minutes is already setting alarm bells ringing in his head. You're constantly fiddling with something, or flashing furtive glances towards the bedroom when you think he's not paying attention.

It only gets worse after dinner. You insist on washing up, something about how you want him to 'enjoy his night off.' Nanami compromises, silently grabbing a towel and drying the dishes. It's clear that your mind is elsewhere. Your hands scrub the porcelain on autopilot, and he can hear you muttering under your breath.

Every now and then you'll mutter a list of tasks under your breath. Nanami remembers you mentioning that things were hectic in lab. You're almost always still working when gets home from work, even when it's well past when you eat your dinner. It's clear that you've had a busy day-- the apartment is far more cluttered than it usually is. There are post-it and pieces of scrap paper stuck to every single surface, and a forgotten pile of folded laundry rests on the couch.

An intense burning sensation across your palm causes you cry out. "Shit!" You drop the knife you were washing in favor of cradling your already bleeding hand. Nanami is instantly by your side, firmly pressing the dishcloth against your cut. There is a worrying amount of red seeping into the fabric, so he silently ushers you to the bathroom.

It's a strange reversal of roles. He's used to being the one leaning leaning against the counter while you bandage his wounds. Instead, it's you who is perched on the marble surface, wincing as he dabs an antiseptic soaked cotton ball against your injury. "Sorry, I'm almost done," he says when you let out a loud hiss.

"It's fine," you reply, sheepishly looking away. "I should have been paying more attention."

Nanami chooses to only respond with a nonchalant hum, focusing on cleaning your palm. The two of you sit there in comfortable silence while he applies ointment to the cut, adding gauze once he's finished. It's only when he reaches for the bandages that he decides to ask. "What's stressing you out?"

Your eyes widen as you realize you've been caught. Nanami is rarely home early these days, especially since he's been mentoring Itadori on behalf of Gojo. (Not that you mind - in the few times you've met Itadori through video call with Nanami, the pink-haired student's sunny disposition has never failed to cheer you up.) When he'd texted you saying he'd be home by dinner, you'd jumped at the opportunity to spend some much needed time with him. You'd pulled out the stops, cooking something a little fancier, and intent on spending the earlier part of the evening cuddling with him. Secretly, you had planned to sneak out of bed after he'd fallen asleep (he always goes to bed early on days like these) and finish preparing for the gauntlet of meetings and presentations you had tomorrow. It was your fault for putting off the tasks, and you didn't want to let your own bad habits get in the way of some quality time with your boyfriend.

"It's nothing, I just have a lot on my plate tomorrow." You do your best to laugh it off, but quickly trail off once when you catch Nanami's deadpan expression. He's always been too good at seeing through your white lies. "I put off some work..." A raised eyebrow from him prompts you to continue, "And I was planning on doing it after you went to bed..." You can't help it when your face scrunches into a pout. After all, now your carefully-laid deception has been revealed.

When Nanami bursts into amused chuckles, you're momentarily surprised, but quickly go back to sulking. "Stop laughing at me Ken!" you whine, "I'm a--"

"Self-aware procrastinator," he finishes your sentence with an amused grin. "I know love, I know. I've seen you write far too many papers within 24-hours of a deadline to be surprised." He presses an affectionate kiss against your wrist.

You scowl at your boyfriend, snatching your bandaged hand away from his grasp. "I'm glad that my suffering is entertaining for at least one person." You stomp back to the bedroom in faux-anger, smiling when you hear Nanami's footsteps not far behind you.

When he steps into the bedroom Nanami drapes his frame over your shoulders, his warm torso nestled against your back. "It is one of your more...endearing traits," he murmurs into your ear before pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck. You can feel your cheeks and ears tingle at his words of affection.

"Sometimes you can be such a sweet talker," you mumble to yourself while you change into your pajamas. This week it's been an old Jujutsu tech hoodie and a pair of well-worn athletic shorts.

"Only for you," Nanami replies while he undoes the buttons of his outfit, chucking his tan pants and blue button up into the laundry basket in the corner. He dons a pair of sweatpants before returning your side to recapture you in another affectionate hug. It's a well kept secret of the Kento-Y/N household that Nanami Kento likes to lounge around shirtless in the privacy of his apartment. (You've been sworn to secrecy, but only because your boyfriend claims that Gojo and the students would have a field day teasing him if this information were to be made public amongst the jujutsu sorcerer community.)

Turning around, you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your nose against his torso and taking in his comforting scent. It's been so long since the two of you have had a moment to yourselves, and for once your hectic thoughts are silenced in favor of sharing a moment of calm bliss with Nanami. He hums in appreciation, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your hips.

"Do you want to watch anything tonight?" you ask after a few seconds of silence.

"No," he replies. "I was actually planning on reading the briefing Ichiji just sent me. Gojo apparently has another scheme up his sleeve." You giggle when your boyfriend lets out a pained sigh. On more than one occasion, your boyfriend has ranted to you about Gojo's unorthodox approach to exorcism. "I swear that idiot shaves a year off my lifespan every time I go on a mission with him," Nanami complains. "He's taking away the years I could spend in Malaysia."

You hum thoughtfully before responding, "Then do you mind--"

Once again, Nanami already knows what you're going to say. "Just remember to bring your laptop charger, I know you have a thousand tabs open on your computer right now," he says while exiting to the living room. After a few moments you join him, overburdened laptop and charger in hand. You both take your usual spots in the living room, him resting comfortably in the center of the loveseat and you sitting on a floor cushion, nestled between his legs. Soon you've fallen into a groove, fingers steadily typing on the keyboard. The warmth of Nanami's presence next to you brings a sense of calm, giving you the grounding focus you need to finish off the last of your tasks.

As he thumbs through the printouts Ichiji gave him, Nanami can't help but let his eyes drift towards you every now and then. You look so adorable when you work. From the way your brow furrows whenever you reread a line, to the way you unconsciously chew on your lip when you scrutinize your draft for any errors. Every now and then he'll gently run his fingers through your hair, relishing the content sighs you let out in response.

It only takes about another hour before you're (finally) closing all your tabs (he still doesn't know why your laptop hasn't crashed yet). As you scroll through social media, your head begins to droop. Soon enough you've fallen asleep, breaths coming in soft and even puffs as you rest against his thigh. Smiling to himself, he puts down his papers and gently lifts your body from the floor. He's careful not to wake you as he slowly makes his way back to the bedroom.

Setting you on the bed, he tucks you under the blankets before lying beside you. The moonlight coming through your window softly illuminates your relaxed features, and he softly traces the outline of your face with his thumb. As he continues to caress your cheek, his eyes are drawn to the dark circles under your eyes. He rarely falls asleep after you these days - between his physically demanding occupation and the ever growing number of things you are responsible for at work- he's often the first to fall asleep from sheer exhaustion while you work well into the night. Not to mention that he's had to spend an increasing number of nights away from you, either on challenging missions or accompanying Gojo's students. And while he knows most of your stress comes from being a student, he can't help but feel guilty about all the additional distress his status as a jujutsu sorcerer has caused you.

When you started dating him, you insisted that Shoko teach you how to suture. He hates how much your stitches have improved since then. The neatness of your stitches is a constant reminder of how much you've endured because of him. When he hears you trying to muffle your sobs into a pillow, he swears he can feel his heart crack in his chest, hurting more than any kind of physical wound from battle. Those nights end with him holding you tightly to his bandaged chest, murmuring reassurances and affection into the crown of your head until you've calmed down enough to fall into a fitful sleep. Even when you're unconscious he'll still continue, words morphing into apologies for the sadness he's inflicted upon your shoulders.

Feeling his eyelids being to droop, Nanami presses one last kiss against your forehead before laying down. He wraps his arms around your waist, surrounding you with warmth, hoping that his presence will be enough to keep your nightmares away, at least for tonight. I love you, y/n is the last thought he has before he drifts away, ready to dream of a tropical sunset and a peaceful future with you by his side.

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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ikevamp-shrine · 4 years

Note

Hmm so i just had this idea, can i please request a drabble when when mc and dazai had their 'first time' ?? Naturally it would be a smut lol but i'd really appreciate it if you throw in some fluffs too, because i think making love with dazai is more goofy than a serious one! Thank you so much if you do this :)

Author: @ikevamp-shrine

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Character(s): Dazai, MC

Pairing: Dazai x MC

Words: 2072

Warnings: nsfw, vaginal penetration, Dazai being Dazai

Notes: So since this request says mc I’m gonna assume its referring to the in game female MC. Anyways, thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy and forgive me for just now answering your ask. (please don’t think I’m ignoring any request that has been sent in, I just haven’t gotten around to them- they will be done at some point.)

Preview:

He traced his thumb over her bottom lip, rounding over the dip, pulling the plush pad of pink down from between her teeth. He glances up; the playful gaze gone from his eyes, instead replaced with the low burning of sizzling embers and wanton lust. He breathed in quick; her scent invaded his senses making him high on her. “Giving in to our most carnal desires, my dear.”

She swallowed thickly forcing his eyes to follow the movement of her throat. He smirked tensely. The tip of pulsating fangs caught the light as they slid from his gums. Dazai laughed lowly, his fingers wrapping around the exposed skin of her neck.

“Do you have any- “his yellowed eyes met hers, and suddenly he was all she could see- “idea... what I want to do to you?”

She opened her mouth to respond only to be cut off by a voice she had never heard the man before her use. Dangerous, lethal, lustful- a trickster warning those of his true power. “Do you have any clue to how hard it is to restrain myself from piercing your skin right now and claiming you as mine?”

“Dazai.”

He hums in response to her shaky voice, completely captivated by the parting of her lips as his face reveals nothing but an internal battle within himself. She gasped when his fingers find purchase on the soft curve of her hips, bringing their bodies flush together with a tug.

“What are we doing?” A bite of her lip has Dazai trembling.

“Do you have any- “his yellowed eyes met hers, and suddenly he was all she could see- “idea... what I want to do to you?”

“I-.” She furrowed her brows, completely at lost as to what to say.

His grip on her throat tightened as Dazai loomed over her form, his wispy breaths of whispers tickling her ear like a lonely breeze. “I want you. All of you.”

He rested his cheek on her shoulder, glancing up at her wavering eyes with need, continuing, appearing vulnerable and innocent, “you want me to... don’t you?”

She nodded, not trusting her words.

Dazai pulled away, completely ridding the girl of his touch as her hand twitched, raising to grab at the thick fabric of his clothing. He grabbed her hand, tsking while murmuring, “I’m going to need a verbal consent to be sure you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

She panted, her eyes pleading and hands shaking. “Please Dazai. I need you.” His jaw clenched. “Did you know I’m a selfish man, my dear? I will not share.”

She pulled him to her. His silken hair dangled in the air, his hands slammed on either side of her head against the wall she was pressed to, steadying himself. Their foreheads touching, breaths mingling, and hearts yearning.

She gasped for air, her want building to unimaginable heights, “be selfish then. Take me and keep me as your own.”

Dazai stilled, his face dropping and tone depressed. “That’s unfair. You know I can’t resist when you say things like that.” He shook his head, a devilish smile appearing, his features morphing into fox like proportions.

“Ask and you shall receive, my dear,” he paused his words to lift the woman up, turning towards the bed, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist, “after all- “he laid her down on his sheets, gently tracing the buttons on her blouse, popping one open at a time- “I am nothing more than a poor writer pleased to be a servant to someone as radiant as you.”

Dazai’s lips caressed the soft skin of her exposed stomach. Chills rose along her flesh as his finger ran over the curve of her thigh, his body moving over her, his kisses leaving a burning path down her body. His hand wrapped under her knee, kneading slowly. Pushing her leg in the air, Dazai watched as her skirt slipped down the limb. His other hand gripped her hip. His face went blank. His glowing, yellow eyes observed the flush of her skin, the reddening marks he left on her stomach, the heave of her breasts that began to spill out of the cups of her bra, the plush of her lips, and the blatant need in her eyes. His head tilted. Silky bangs hiding one side of his face. He whispered, “say my name.”

She shivered when his tongue met the sensitive expanse of her calf, lapping slowly up to her ankle. “Dazai.”

His fangs nibbled at her toes; her shoes previously discarded on the floor. MC gasped, her leg jerking at the ticklish sensation.

“Who do you belong to?” Dazai growled lowly, his eyes flashing.

MC moaned as his teeth dug into the front of her ankle. “You, you- only you.”

Dazai hummed, his eyes drifting closed as he opened himself to the intense emotions and rising tension. Muscles twitched under his mouth as he tracked back down her leg, his hand sliding from her hip to the waist band of her skirt, tugging the fabric off and tossing it to the floor. Opening his eyes, lids hooded with lust, the writer inhaled sharply at the spread of her hips before him. Her hands gripped at his sheets when he descended upon the growing wet spot on her panties.

She stopped breathing, her breath catching in her throat, when the male flattened his tongue over her clothed entrance; his moan vibrating through her at the taste. Her knees bent over his broad shoulders- broader that what they appeared. She felt his muscles tense and ripple as he sucked and licked at her through her underwear, his saliva mixing with her damp want. Her legs began to tremble when sharp teeth bit the cloth of her panties; her heart fluttered dangerously as Dazai pulled them off with his lips.

He looked utterly feral as he rose above her, regal even. Majestic, powerful. Like a snake slithering around its prey, soon to wrap around its form and swallow the defenseless creature whole. Dazai flicked his tongue out to lick over the glimmering points of his fangs, still tasting MC on his lips. His skin appeared to shimmer in the candle light, his pupils dilating and nostrils flaring as he nuzzled his face into her inner thigh. His breath fanned over the apex of her thighs, his low laugh shifting through the air when he saw her clench with excitement.

“Look at how obedient you are being. Spreading yourself just for me… I might just give you a reward.” They met gazes; she felt dizzy.

Dazai’s fingers dipped into her, coating the digit as she groaned. He curled inside of her, his jaw clicking at the tightness. He already knew he would struggle with not being completely consumed by the thought of her. He pumped slowly, building her up only to push himself knuckles deep, adding another finger. She moaned louder at the sudden stretch.

Dazai’s brows furrowed with concentration and MC barely heard him speak.

“I hope the walls are thick.”

She panted, confused. “W-what?”

He glanced back up at her reddened face, murmuring, “I hope the walls are thick or our neighbors will hear every pretty moan of yours.”

Her eyes widened when he reached above her head, knocking on the wall, mind blanking as she watched the writer smile expectantly at the barrier behind her. Another knock sounded back making her blood run cold.

Dazai shifted his gaze back down at her, smirking flippantly at her baffled expression. “Not so thick after all, I guess.”

MC blushes, opening her mouth, huffing embarrassingly.

Dazai shifts, leaning back on his haunches, knees bent under him. He brings MC with him, pulling her to straddle his lap. His hands rests on her lower back as he watches her, amused at how desperately she tries to untie his clothing, her embarrassment forgotten.

Her hands shake, her whine tumbling past her teeth when the knot tightens instead of coming apart.

Dazai rubs his hands around the globe of her bottom, soothing her. The knot finally comes undone and MC slips her hands under his clothing, pushing the fabric back, relishing in the smoothness of his skin beneath her finger tips. His clothing pools on the bed, catching at his elbows making him appear as if he was a fertility god ripe for the taking.

With tensing muscles and sweat damp skin, Dazai crashes his lips onto hers, their tongues fighting for dominance. His fingers flex against her skin, his form flinching when he feels MC grip the heavy weight of his cock between her palm, pumping and squeezing. A breathless moan follows and Dazai’s head falls limp between the junction of MC’s shoulder as she jerks his manhood; her thumb rubbing over the sensitive slit, smearing what seeps out along the smoothness of his skin.

His stomach tenses, his mouth pulled into a grimace. Dazai grips MC’s wrists, stopping her, whispering shakily, “easy. I want to make this last.”

He takes a nipple within his mouth. It pebbles between his teeth, darkening as she throws her head back, scratching her nails against his scalp. He reaches between them to rub the swollen head of his cock against her clit. Her wetness drips down her thigh, dampening the cloth still trapped around Dazai’s thighs.

“Damn it, stop teasing me,” MC groans out, frustrated and impatient.

“The best things come to those who wait,” Dazai grins.

She digs her nails into his nape in warning, forcing a hiss from the writer. He glanced up at her heated eyes, smirking impishly around her nipple.

He snorts. “Ok, ok. Stop abusing this poor man.”

She breathes heavily, his tongue lapping at her chest, moving up her collar bone; he sucks at the pulse of her neck as he pushes the tip of his cock into her sopping heat. MC whimpers.

Dazai’s arm cages her, wrapping around her middle, holding her still as he slips deep within her.

“Ah! Dazai...” MC mewls, hugging his shoulder as they begin to rock together.

The writer whines at the heat gripping his cock. They lose each other in themselves. Clawing at the other’s skin in hopes of leaving a mark. They become one; feeling their bodies slide against each other, their minds fuzzy and hearts entwining.

“My dear,” Dazai growls, his fangs dropping further than they had before, his throat screaming with the need for it to be cooled by the one he craves, “I need... please, let me.”

His head is pushed back into the curve of MC’s neck as she nods at his begging, knowing and willing for him to take what he wants.

Dazai places his lips loosely over her skin, lightly brushing her with his lips, kissing delicate flesh stained with effects of his actions. Allowing his teeth to scrape against her, his eyes shoot open when she moans out.

“-close,” she mumbles, her body tensing and back arching.

He feels the tight fluttering of her walls around him as he sinks his fangs deep within her skin, holding her tight so she doesn’t rip his fangs through her flesh while she bucks wildly; waves of pleasure crashing over her, overwhelming her, dragging her down the river of ecstasy. Dazai grunts sharply, pulling himself out of her warmth to spurt thick ropes of white along the quivering planes of her stomach. Rolling his hips in the air, Dazai’s illuminated eyes grow blurry; his mind suffocating with the pleasure and the taste of his lover.

He sucks once roughly, his brows pinching together, face pained. Slowly removing his long canines from MC when she stills; her back shivered, rising and falling quickly.

She exhales when his tongue, slick with her blood, laps weakly at the puncture wounds upon her neck, helping it to heal. Exhaustion seeps deep within her bones as they bask in the aftershocks of their love making, holding each other close, her head on his chest listening to the steady thumps of his heart.

“Still with me?” Dazai questions. Euphoria makes his voice heavy and lazy.

She nods.

Dazai uses his sleeve to wipe his cum from her skin, pressing their cheeks together. He tenderly strokes her spine as he takes in the warmth of her companionship. “Stay?”

MC falls back dragging Dazai with her. They both laugh as she digs her nose into the crease of his breasts. He kisses the top of her head when she responds, her voice thick with the need for rest, their legs tangling as they slowly drift off to sleep, “always.”

Tagging @dazaiswindow @alby-rei @gallifreysperfectrose @nishtharya @robin-the-enby for saying yes on my previous post

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#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen series #ikevam #ikevam dazai #ikemen vampire dazai #ikevamp dazai #ikevam fanfiction #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikevamp fanfiction #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen vampire fanfic #ikevam fanfic

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