#it makes my saliva sticky and literally nothing else :(

[sirlordevil]

OAISJSISJ I DIDN'T BECOME A FROG YOU BUMBLING BUFFOON!!

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

F*CK, KILL, MARRY — nsfw alphabet w john wick (&femreader)

[Warnings: NSFW, discussion of various sexual and kink topics that are 0% canon and 100% my fantasies opinions] gif cred: @lunaspacks & @gifpacklove

[A]ftercare

The literal king of aftercare. It does not matter what kind of sex you’re having with John—even if it’s of the slowest and sensualist variety—he’s making sure you’re clean, kissed, snuggled, and hydrated afterwards.

[B]ody Part

What part of your body does this man not consider his favorite part, is the better question? Seems like his goal in life is to get every little piece of your flesh—especially the batches you don’t like—into his mouth and hands so he can convince you how much he loves, craves, pines after all of you. Speaking of hands, of course you love his chunky, scarred, battle worn fingers. And, since that seems to be your favorite part of him, he’s happy to agree, and wiggle his digits in front of you every once in a while as a teasing reminder of just how much you like them.

[C]um

The only thing John Wick likes teasing more than you, is himself. He’s entirely too good at keeping you both up all night either cumming or just on the precipice of it, so, by the time you’re both spent, things tend to be sticky and soaked in more than just sweat and saliva.

[D]irty Secret

There’s nothing he keeps from you, really. If you’re into it, he’s into it, and vice versa. Look at those puppy dog eyes and tell me you’re gonna tell this man no if he wants to suck your toes.

[E]xperience

Might have been a bit of a whore in his younger days, when he was still trying different bad coping skills for dealing with his own self loathing. Present, John has to really have that emotional attraction for his pants to get tighter, but he absolutely knows his way around female anatomy—as evidenced by yours and his soaked sheets.

[F]avorite Position

Either his face tucked up inside your pussy so deep his hair gets wet (John Wick’s favorite activity is making you cum in his mouth), or your knees hooked over his shoulders so he can watch your eyes roll back in your head while he reaches screaming, teeth gnashing, hellishly pleasurable depths.

[G]oofy

This one very much depends on his mood, although he’s not opposed to play fights and chasing you around the house a little bit before bending you over the couch and fucking his winning prize. He’s more playful than not most of the time, always teasing and sly, grinning against your lips and nuzzling your thighs and starting tickle fights —which may just be the only sort of fight he actually loses (sometimes).

[H]air

This man is not shaving that often these days…Something(one) else is taking up his free time. Plus, he loves to see beard burn on your skin—it means you’re his. He truly does not care at all about your body hair; whether you shave or don’t, he’s still burying his face in your cunt.

[I]ntimacy

Loving and fucking go hand in hand for him; where there is no love, there is no fuck. If he’s fucking you, he’s loving you at the same time, sometimes so deeply and intensely that the emotion becomes more overwhelming than the actual sex, which is a feat of its own. Constantly saying the dirtiest, sweetest shit to you—commanding your attention again when you try to bury your head in a pillow or close your eyes for some reprieve from his attention.

[J]ack off

You’ve both made a maddening deal that you won’t cum unless you’re in the other’s presence. It gets exceedingly frustrating at times, especially when he decides to come home from a week-long contract and then edge you out of your fucking mind for a few hours before he sends you to heaven and back on his cock

[K]ink

Hide and seek — spoiler: you always lose. Topping from the bottom — whatever you’re into, he’s into. Whatever you want, he’ll give it a try with enthusiasm. He loves pleasing you, serving you, giving you everything that you ask for and then some. John Wick is a service sub at heart, even if he takes the dominant roll to prove it. Edging and overstimulating — Living a life of pain, agony, and heartbreak has made him appreciate the finer things in life, like his cock and your cunt aching so desperately it becomes painful. He can spend all day nibbling your ears, teasing you with dark promises, brushing against your little sensitive spots, and then all night kissing your swollen clit and tickling your gspot and fucking you slow and devastatingly softly. And then there’s his love for receiving edges, leaking pools of precum while you tease his cock and kiss his tummy and nibble his hipbones.

[L]ocation

Private. He wants you to himself. The thought of someone else seeing or touching you, unless it’s something you really crave, makes him want to break bones stuff. Besides some hand holding and light cheek pecks in public, he’s not one for PDA.

[M]otivation

You don’t have to try to turn John on, which is both a blessing and a curse. More than once have you purchased a pair of cute (not even that sexy underwear) that he has ripped in half so that his impatient mouth can latch onto your pussy. He also adores femininity in all its purest forms—pretty sundresses, little strappy heels and sandals, the curves and soft places on your body, your cute giggles and soft touch and adorable pouting. Even better if you’re naturally not feminine to begin with, and take on a more masculine role; he loves to bring the little lady out in you, and take care of her.

[N]o

John will get a little rough if you ask; spank you, fuck your soul into the next life, a little bit of facefucking, but all the while he’s checking in on you, making sure you’re okay, asking if you need anything, giving you little breaks. He’s just naturally so sweet to you, it’s hard for him to complete a rough session without constant reassurance from his babydoll. So, gags are a no. He wants to—likes to—hear you, and he doesn’t need something obstructing that.

[O]ral

There are two ways that this could go. 1) With Wick slurping between your squishy thighs until dawn, delaying one orgasm after another until you’re sobbing and thrashing, until he finally lets you cum with his pruned fingers fucking up inside and sore tongue on your massively swollen clit. 2) With Baba Yaga burying his face into your folds, still in the sweaty work suit and maybe even a little blood on his tie, and taking you to heaven and back until he thinks you’re wet and stretched enough—spoiler, you are both of those things as soon as you see him…as soon as he opens his mouth—to take his cock.

[P]ace

Quick, bruising fucks in the car. Weekends in his woodsy, romantic cabin where you spend more time on his dick than off. Slow tonguing on the kitchen counter. Riding him on the doorstep while he’s in his suit when he just wants to get you off one more time before he goes off on a long job.

[Q]uickie

He prefers slow and sensual and teasing, but sometimes his cock disagrees with all that. He’s a man, after all, has needs. When he gets that haunted, dark, narrowed, pussy hungry look in his eyes—you’re fucked. You don’t know this, and he might not either, but that’s the same look he gets when he’s hunting a target.

[R]isk

What is the need for it? You’re his, completely. He doesn’t require added adrenaline when you’re around—you are his high.

[S]tamina

Y/n: *slaps John Wick’s ass* trust me, this baby can go for miles. Wait no, no, John-JOhN! Listen!—

[T]oys

As familiar as he is with the world and how it runs, he himself is a bit old school. That means holding doors open and putting you on the opposite side of the sidewalk away from traffic, but it also means he prefers to get you off with himself rather than any plastics or silicones—that is until you showed him just how fun they could be. Now, he may be initially resistant to vibrators and dildos, but that doesn’t mean he’s not privy to other tools that aid in your undoing—feathers, belts, ties, rope, his gun (unloaded, of course, don’t worry).

[U]nfair

Sometimes you feel like all the stoic, broody, dark assassin does is tease you. Not that you’re complaining, as long as his tongue or his fingers or his teeth are on you.

[V]olume

John Wick is a man of focus, determination, and sheer will power—but, make no mistake, he whimpers for you just as often as he growls.

[W]ild card

John didn’t think he’d get much out of thigh riding, until he saw you completely bare grinding your soaked cunt against the tensed muscles of his leg while he remained full on suited in black. Your fingers wrapped around his tie, the thick Kevlar of his jacket, rumpling and dampening the pristine white shirt underneath, mouth open and panting, flushed and grinding, desperate to get yourself off, nipples plucked swollen and dark by his fingers.

[X]-ray

Big Wick Energy. And, surprisingly, something you love to bite and poke, a cute little permanent pudge on his lower tummy amongst the hard panes of ab and tendon and muscle.

[Y]earning

If you’re both in good health—alright, sometimes even if you’re not (see: bullet and stab wounds, period cramps, broken bones)—you’re fucking. Often and earnestly. Debauching every available surface as soon as you get through the doors of each other's dwellings. He’s spent a lifetime training to kill, honing his body into the perfect weapon, building his inhuman stamina, unsure of why he was doing all of it in the first place—until he realized it was the universe’s grand design to assist him with fucking you whenever and wherever he wants; even when you get tired and he has to use you past the point where you can’t move or speak or think. As you’ve come to learn, it doesn’t matter if you’re too cockdrunk to assist, because John can fuck for the both of you.

[Z]zzzzzz

When he’s actually done, he’s out immediately. Just one of those common manly traits you like to poke fun at him for. At least he sleeps, now.

[ppersonna]

good for me | ksj - m

“ stay on the ground until your knees hurt. no more praying baby, imma be your preacher ” - church, chase atlantic

✹ summary- You’ve forgotten something very important and your husband, Seokjin, makes sure you never forget it again.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim seokjin x reader

✹ word count- 2.3k

✹ genre- smut, pwp, no plot, you’d have to DIG for a plot, like............. thats all there is to it. there is nothing else.

✹ warnings- hard dom!seokjin, oral sex (m receiving), spanking, degredation, dirty talk, shower sex, established relationship, 

✹ a/n- this has been in the drafts for some time. i debated posting it because it literally has no substance LMAOOOOO but hey fuck it. here’s some hard dom jin because 🥵 i needed it. thank u to @chimoona​ for her help and for my ladies @xjoonchildx​ @ladyartemesia​ @untaemedqueen​ always giving me the hype.

The best part of exercising is the shower afterwards. 

Sure, you enjoy the benefits of cardio and weight training, but nothing ever feels as good as a hot steamy shower after you’re drenched in sweat.  

It’s what you’re looking forward to as you climb out of your car and trudge your weary body to the front door. 

It’s late in the evening now—Seokjin’s car is in the driveway next to yours, and you figure he must have returned home sometime while you were gone. You open the door and call out to your husband, alerting him to your return as you drop your keys onto the entryway table and kick off your gym shoes. 

It’s quiet in the house, not a single reply from Seokjin, but you quickly dismiss it. He’s likely busy, or stepped outside to the backyard for a phone call. 

It’s no matter. All you can think about is turning on the shower and stepping into the spray and allowing the shower to soothe away tension and wash away the slick. 

Your body is sticky with sweat and the bra and legging combo you wore is an unattractive darker color from the moisture.  You’re peeling off the clothes as you make your way upstairs towards your shared bedroom.  The clothes land somewhere near the laundry basket—you don’t care where—and you’re completely naked by the time your feet touch the marble of the bathroom floor. 

The muscles in your body relax the instant you turn the knobs of the shower to hot, as hot as you can make it. It takes a moment to warm up, and you generously use the time to roll out your sore muscles and gaze at your figure in the mirror. 

There are still marks on your body from your last playtime with Jin. 

Some nights, you have sex with him like a normal, married couple. Missionary, soft and gentle, plenty of emotion and sweet whispered words. 

Other nights, however, you willingly allow the sadist in him to gratify the masochist in you. He takes control, demands submission, and you freely give. 

Your time with your husband last night was the latter. He bent you over the bed and paddled your ass until you cried, and your pussy drooled onto the floor below you. He was relentless, powerful, and it made you putty in his hands. There was no one else on the earth you trusted more than Seokjin. You knew he would never intentionally hurt you in a way that didn’t bring you pleasure. And it made your desire for him burn even brighter. 

The bathroom is steamy by the time you’ve finished checking out the delicious marks your husband left on you, and you slip into the shower with a grateful sigh.  The pressure feels incredible on your muscles and you allow your eyes to close as you bask in the steam and heat. 

The cascading water and intoxicating heat clouds your mind and you never notice the bathroom door open or the sound of clothing being removed. You’re so distracted that you never hear the glass door of the shower open. 

And it’s too late now. 

You’re instantly being pressed up against the cold tile of the bathroom, a hot and hard body behind you making you squeak in surprise. 

Jin has joined you in the shower, and he’s pressed your chest to the cool wall and tangles his hands in your hair. 

“Look what we have here,” he tuts. “Nice to see you showed up.”

You furrow your brow, confused on what he’s talking about. He plays with your hair as he continues to hold you against the wall, cheek turned and flat against the tile. 

“Jin, wha—,” he cuts you off before you can finish. 

“That’s not my name, baby doll.” 

His voice is distinct from his usual.

This one radiates power. It oozes danger. And your cunt is already squeezing around nothing at the sound. 

“S-sir,” you gasp. Your breathing is heavy, body overcome with desire. 

“That’s a good girl,” he praises. He lets a free hand travel down your wet back towards your ass, where he cups a cheek in his hand delicately. 

“Now, can my good girl tell me what she did wrong today?” 

His hands rub the globe gently, and you shiver. His hands feel so strong, so ready to deliver the firm swats or gentle caresses you crave the most. 

You’re racking your rattled brain as hard as you can, desperate to figure out what you’ve done wrong. 

“I—I can’t remember,” you murmur. 

He tsks, upset at your answer. 

“You better start remembering, little one.”  

His hand rubs at the skin of your ass once more, before he’s lifting his hand and bringing it back down onto your cheeks with a crack. Your body jolts in reply and the stinging of your buttocks travels straight to your core. A low whimper leaves your lips—a sound of brewing desire more than despair. 

“Don’t you want to be my good girl?” He asks as he rubs the reddening mark. “Tell me what you’ve done wrong and you won’t be punished.” 

You puff out a breath in frustration, unable to remember what you’ve done. 

Jin notices and delivers another slap to your ass, this time on the opposite cheek, and you yelp. 

“I-I,” you stutter, brain spinning desperately to remember what it is you’ve missed.  

“If you’ve forgotten how to use your voice, then please, let’s put that mouth to use.”

He turns your body, your back now pressed against the tile where your tits once were. Your eyes widen. He looks like a fucking god. He’s wet and dripping from the spray of the shower, and his eyes burn like coals, stoked by his desire for you. He steps back from you, allows you to drink in his image pridefully. 

His cock is rock hard, straining and thick against his abdomen. He doesn’t bother to touch it, doesn’t stroke or grasp it. His eyes are drilling holes into your own with intensity and you can feel your submissive nature begging you to kneel. It’s what he wants.

He knows you—knows you better than you likely know yourself.  You’re lowering on to your knees with no thought, eyes fixated on his like he likes. 

“No hands,” he speaks gently. “Dirty fucking whores don’t get to use their hands.”

His powerful hands grip your damp hair, gathering a bunch and bringing your face to the tip of his cock.

“You wanna suck daddy’s cock?” He asks, tone almost teasing. He rubs the head against your plump lips, allowing them to collect the generous pre-cum at the tip.  

You nod, big simpering eyes peering up at him.

“Please, daddy,” you beg. “Let me suck your cock.”

He rubs your lips a few moments more, before grasping your jaw in his hands and prying your mouth open.

“Suck.”

His hips thrust forward and suddenly your mouth fills with his length.  You almost gag, almost, but you squeeze your fists tight and will it away. Jin smirks as he sees the tears build in your eyes from the pressure and continues forward until his cock fills your entire throat.

“Oh fuck,” he sighs. “Look at you take it all like a practiced whore.”

He pulls out slowly, torturously calculated and measured, before he’s slamming his length back into your throat and starting a pace.

Your mouth becomes a simple vessel for him and his pleasure. You tuck your teeth in as best as you can as he fucks your throat, cheeks hollowing as you attempt to tighten the space in your mouth, and lave your tongue over any inch of his cock you can find.  

He keeps his hand on your head, grip tightening steadily on your hair.  

“Shit,” he puffs a breath. “Best fucking cocksleeve.”

His head tips back as he enjoys the slurping, sloppy sounds your mouth is making. Saliva is sliding down the corners of your mouth where it gathers and drips to the wet marble floor below.  

Jin delights in the way you submit to him. He feels powerful, feels like a god. He loves you, every single aspect of you in the bedroom and outside of it. And he absolutely loves it when you’re on your knees, begging like a good girl. So good for him, even when you fuck up.

He peers back down at you, pushing more hair out of your face tenderly while he fucks your willing mouth.

“Mm, this is where you belong, isn’t it? This is what this hot little mouth is meant for.”

He punctuates his sentences with quicker, rougher snaps of his hips that force his cock to the very back of your throat. Your eyes spill over with tears and your throat tightens in reaction, squeezing the head of Jin’s cock.

“Ah, fuck yes, choke on it.”

He’s absolutely enamored by the way you work harder, mouth bobbing along with his thrusts.  You get off on this just as much as he does—you love to be degraded and treated like a whore in the bedroom while he treats you like the queen you are outside of it.

His queen, bowing in front of him to give him pleasure through her submission.

It’s one of the many reasons he loves you so fucking much.

He can feel his stomach tightening, core clenching as his orgasm builds. Simply watching your tears, mixed with the shower water slip down your face has his balls and heart yearning.

“You ready to swallow my cum, doll?” He asks, fully knowing the answer.  

Your impossibly beautiful and big eyes widen even further and Jin stifles a groan at the sight of you, the definition of submission personified. 

“Mm, I know you are.” He pumps harder into your gaping mouth, groaning at how wet and hot it is despite your aching jaw. “You love swallowing cum. It’s your favorite meal of the day.”

He’s gritting his teeth as his orgasm becomes more and more apparent and you bob your head earnestly to bring him off. You easily accommodate him without your hands, and he swells with pride at how good you are for him.

“That’s my perfect little slut,” he grits. He’s staving off the orgasm as long as he can, wants to soak in every moment of you gagging on his length. 

Your hand seeks purchase on Jin’s thick thighs, holding on for balance as your head bobs quickly and your throat works overtime to accommodate his length. Another quick glance up to him is all it takes for him to fall to pieces. He can never resist the way you look at him with a mouth full of cock.

His cock pulses with each groan and you whine cutely as he fills your mouth with his seed. You slow your movements and stay put, staring at him as his cock twitches.

He gently pulls his spent cock from your lips, panting as he attempts to right himself.

“Open up,” he demands in a gentle voice.

You’re compliant—mouth opening to display Seokjin’s thick cum pooled on your tongue. It makes him grin. 

“Nasty,” he winks. “Swallow, my love.” 

He rests a hand on your throat, wants to feel as you swallow his seed down. It makes his cock twitch back to life, ready to go again and again. It doesn’t matter how long he’s been married to you—he’ll always find the stamina for a round two.

“Are you ready to discuss what happened today?”

Jin holds out his hand for you, which you take gratefully to stand up inside the shower.

“Yes, please.”

Jin wraps his arms around you and pulls you under the spray of the shower. He places gentle and soft kisses up and down your neck as his hands slither up and down your wet body.

“What’s the date today?” He whispers as he kisses the shell of your ear.

“It’s the eighth--,” you start, before your eyes wide. “Oh, my god.”

He smiles and pulls back to look into your eyes.

“It is the eighth, yes, and?”

“It’s our wedding anniversary.”

Your heart sinks. In the hustle and bustle of the day, it slipped from your mind of your anniversary. He had planned an entire evening to spend together, and you had forgotten all about it, abandoned the plans for a night at the gym.

“Oh, my god, Jin, I am so sorry. I totally forgot.”

Jin kisses at your face, cupping your cheeks with his hands.

“Baby, it's okay,” he assures as he kisses your shower-slick lips. “I’m not mad. The steaks are a little cold, but…”

You cling harder to your husband. 

“God, I’m an idiot. I owe you!”

He chuckles in your ear as he wraps his arms tight around you. Anniversary or not, Seokjin is in love with you. And he can forgive a simple mistake. Especially when you make up for it so sweetly.

“You’re not an idiot, baby. You can show me how sorry you are tonight when you’re tied up to the bed and taking my cock, hm?”

You lick your lips, already excited for the delicious punishments Jin must have planned for you.

“I love you,” you murmur, standing on tip-toes to press another kiss to his full lips.

“Mmm, and I love you,” he replies. “And you’re going to be good for me tonight, aren’t you baby?”

Jin is turning off the shower as you nod.

He gathers a towel and steps out, drying every inch of your body before guiding you to the bedroom.

“Show me.”

© ppersonna - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author. 

[thesightstoshowyou]

Timing is Everything

Jesse Cromeans x F Reader x Asa Emory (NSFW)

Summary: Trapped between a predator and a hard place.

Warnings: All the warnings! Dubcon/noncon, daddy kink, Dominant Asa, possessive Asa, creampie(s), anal play, heavy degradation, slapping, manipulation, knife use, blood, torture, “aftercare.” Safe word? What’s that?

 ~~

             When the penthouse elevator dings, you think it’s Asa. It’s after five, Asa’s typical time to return home and recharge before heading out into the night. Jesse’s been gone for days to who knows where, but this isn’t unusual.

             So, when you peek under the cabinets from your spot near the stove and see soft lights glinting off chrome, you’re surprised. He strips out of his black suit jacket, kicking off his boots as he goes. You frown at the blood that drips off the soles onto clean marble. Asa’s going to be pissed.

             But, maybe that’s the point.

             “Hey, you. Back already?” you ask casually as Jesse stalks behind the counter. He drags his fingers leisurely along the sleek granite as he strolls over to you. There’s promise in the way his hips sway as he approaches, a hint of impatience in his swagger. Immediately, you’re on edge.

             Uneasy, you meet his shadowed gaze as well as you can through the darkened eyeholes of his mask. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause, just keeps slowly pressuring you until you’re backed against the sink. You gulp when his arm slides around your waist, one huge hand grabbing a handful of your ass.

             “Asa’s not here—

             Jesse claps a hand over your mouth and shakes his head. He bends down to your level, nudges your cheek with the chilly teeth of his mask. The hand on your ass disappears, resurfaces clutching one of those heinous blades. Dried blood flecks off the handle as he twists it, brings cold steel under your chin.

             You’re afraid, yes, but not of the knife. Asa doesn’t like Jesse to touch you if he’s not there. The Collector is the sole orchestrater of your pleasure and pain, and Chromeskull is an extension of Asa’s knife. Usually, Jesse is more than happy to take instruction on how best to pull you apart and put you back together.

             Usually.

             Not tonight, apparently. The last time this had happened, you hadn’t been able to walk for a week. You wonder what Asa said to Jesse to set him off.

             “Daddy, please,” you mumble behind his hand, hoping the pet name will give him pause. Jesse’s gaze snaps back to yours. He brings the knife in front of your face and shakes it back and forth. ‘No, no, no, little girl,’ it says with its movement. You plead with your eyes and Jesse’s shoulders shake in silent laughter. He’s enjoying the way your lips tremble in trepidation.

             Jesse seizes you around the waist, tosses you over his shoulder, saunters to the bedroom. You let yourself be towed, racing mind wondering what the hell you’re going to tell Asa when he inevitably walks in on the both of you. You nearly scoff out loud; as if Asa’s going to let you speak. You’re so, so fucked.

             Literally.

             When Asa does finally return home, you don’t hear him enter. The only things you can hear are the rustling of bedsheets in your ear, the fervent slap of skin on skin, and your muffled groans and screams. Jesse has your cheek smashed into the mattress, drooling mouth stuffed with your panties, arms pinned behind your back, two, thick fingers speared into your ass, and your hips in the air as he pummels your sore cunt. No hole left unfilled.

             You’re dripping cum and your own fluids, the sheets a wet mess beneath you. Whatever Asa said to him, it really, really set him off. Deliriously, you wonder if you’ve ever seen him so pent up.

             You yelp around the underwear between your teeth when Jesse tugs his fingers from your ass. His hand flies to your hair, gripping your messy locks and turning your head the other direction so you’re looking at the bedroom doorway. Your eyes widen in horror when you see Asa leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, dark eyes intently focused on the arch of your back.

            Behind you, Jesse hisses and hilts himself, spilling another load of sticky cum into your abused cunt. You grunt and wriggle against the hand keeping your arms pinned. He’d timed that perfectly, hadn’t he?

            Deliberately, Asa pulls a pair of black, nitrile gloves from his back pocket. He snaps them on, one at a time, intertwining his fingers to achieve the snuggest fit. Your chest heaves, your limbs trembling at the methodical way he flicks open the sheath on his hip and produces a slim knife, the blade glinting maliciously in the low light.

            Jesse slips from your cunt with a sigh, releases your arms, crawls up beside you so he’s resting against the headboard. You flop over, yank the panties from your mouth, push to your knees with shaking arms, drop your chin to your chest submissively.

            What do you say? He’ll hurt you more if you talk out of turn. Fuck, this isn’t fair.

            Jesse will emerge from this ordeal unscathed. He’d never allow Asa to punish him, no, not without a bloody, vicious fight. That’s not what this twisted relationship is about, but Asa will have to punish someone.

            And that someone is you.

            A normal relationship would have a predetermined word, a phrase, a hand signal, something that would bring this nightmare to an end, but when you’re the obsession of both the Collector and Chromeskull, there is no safe word. There is pain and there is pleasure and no relief from either, ever.

            Gloved fingers brush your cheek, grip your chin and tilt your head so your eyes meet black. His face is blank, utterly expressionless, but this is when he is most dangerous. You don’t know what he’s planning. Again, you beg with your eyes, hope he’ll take pity on you. There was nothing you could do to stop Jesse, he must know this.

             Asa hums thoughtfully, pulls down your bottom lip with his thumb, “I know this wasn’t your idea, Cricket.” He shoots Jesse a petulant glare and the bed wobbles under you with what you can only assume is more unheard laugher. Your heart lifts slightly. Could you be this lucky…?

             His eyes return to yours and you blink until tears slips down your face. Instantly, your stomach plummets and you gasp in shock when he delivers a stinging slap to your cheek. You whimper, clutching your face and shuddering when he sighs heavily.

             “Unfortunately, that’s not enough to save you, silly girl. If you weren’t such a desperate whore, he wouldn’t have broken my rules, would he?” You visibly tremble, nod your head, because what else can you do now? Submit, take the punishment like an obedient pet, learn to run faster than Jesse.

             “On your back.” Instantly you fall back. You try not to glare up at Jesse when he pulls your head into his lap, fingers carding through your sweaty hair in mock sympathy.

             “Look at me.” You do, “How many times did he cum? Tell the truth, Cricket or I. Will. Hurt. You.”

             “F-Four, Sir,” you stammer, your heart fluttering in your chest like a panicked bird. Asa’s eyes flick to Jesse’s and the skull mask nods once in affirmation.

             “Four? Christ, Jesse,” Asa murmurs with a chuckle, that ominous rumble that never fails to send a thrill of fear through your bloodstream. Jesse shrugs and motions to your naked body as though that should explain everything. Asa shakes his head and addresses you, “Four cuts for the four times you let him defile my cunt. Understand? Speak.”

             “Y-Yes, Sir,” you whisper, bracing for the bite of steel. Asa spreads your thighs wide, pushes your knees to your chest. The point of the knife trails down the inside of your knee, comes to rest on the soft flesh of your inner thigh. Your gasping breaths are so loud they echo off the high ceiling. You grit your teeth, hiss when Asa drags the blade along your thigh, your dermis parting under steel and spilling crimson onto the bedsheets.

             “Count,” he orders.

             “One,” you snivel, hands fisting the sheets as blinding, brilliant agony sears through your leg. The second cut makes you groan through clenched teeth. Your muscles pull taut as you desperately try to remain still.

             “T-Two.” Asa moves to your other leg. These are going to scar so bad-no don’t think about it—

             “Three!” you scream, a high wail that Jesse immediately muffles with his fingers. One more, one more, you can do it, one—

             “F-F-Four,” you sob around the digits in your mouth. Spit drips past your lips as Jesse removes his fingers and smears the saliva across your quivering lips. The clink of a belt buckle and the drag of a zipper reaches your ears. You gasp, meet Asa’s heated gaze. His predatory gaze is fixed on the way your blood drips down your thighs and mixes with the cum leaking from your puffy slit.

             You speak without thinking, too desperate to be given a break, “P-Please—

             He’s lightning fast, shocking you with his speed more than how roughly he grips your jaw. He spits, “I don’t remember giving you permission to speak.” You scream again when he slams into your aching cunt, burying his cock into slick, cum drenched muscles. The pants that hang off his hips catch on your lacerations, agonizingly irritate your throbbing flesh

             “Anything going on in that empty head?” SLAP, “Answer me, slut.”

             “Y-Yes—

             SLAP

             “’No’ is the word you were looking for.”

             “N-No, Sir—

             SLAP

             “Shut. Up. If I wanted to hear your simpering voice, I would tell you to, ‘Speak.’ Did I say that?” Furiously you shake your head, anything to get him to stop smacking your burning cheeks. His voice drops to a low purr and he leans over you to murmur, “That’s right. I didn’t. Open your mouth.” Immediately your jaw falls open, “Jesse, give the little whore something to do with that disobedient tongue.”

            Three of Jesse’s fingers return to your mouth and languidly count your teeth. His other hand falls to his half hard cock, fist rolling up his girth until he’s fully erect. How he can have the stamina is beyond you, but that thought goes as quickly as it comes when Asa’s fingers find your swollen clit.

            You twitch and keen, bewildering pressure building in your gut with every stroke of his deft fingers. How? How does he have the uncanny ability to bring you to the edge even after everything he’s done?

            “Jesse, take your fingers out. Cricket, you are going to cum for me. Me. As it should always be. Speak.”

            “Ye-Yes, Sir, yes, yes, please, please, I want to—

            “I want to hear my name when you cum. Speak.”

            “Yes, Sir, yes, I-I will, I w-will, fuck, fuck, I-I-I—

            “Cum, now, do it, cum for me.”

            “ASA!” Despite the pain ravaging your inner thighs, you bring your hips up to meet his, muscles clenching, pressure in your belly releasing in a flurry of wet heat and rolling pleasure. Asa grunts, thrusts, exhales forcefully, buries his cock in your heat to paint your insides with his own release. Distantly, you hear Jesse hiss through his teeth, see him spill into his fist out of the corner of your eye.

            Asa’s body heat disappears from between your legs. You let them fall to the bed, boneless, useless, ready to let unconsciousness claim you then and there, but he returns a moment later with a warm, wet cloth, antibacterial ointment, gauze, and bandages. Meticulously, he cleans the wounds he inflicted, making sure the dressings are well secured before climbing into bed. You crawl into his open arms, turning away from Jesse and burying your face into the crook of Asa’s warm neck.

            Asa waits until your chest rises and falls rhythmically before signing to Jesse, ‘Four times? Seriously?’

            Jesse shrugs again, lifting his hands and signing, ‘Jealous?’ Asa snorts.

            ‘I’m not the one that’s going to be in the doghouse.’

            ‘She’ll get over it.’ Jesse motions to your bandaged thighs, ‘Those are going to scar up good and pretty.’ Asa lets a smirk pull at the corner of his mouth.

            ‘That was the intent. You timed that last one perfectly, by the way.’ Jesse’s shoulders shake again at that.

            ‘Honestly, I got lucky. I was so fucking close for a good ten minutes before you walked in. Took your sweet time.’

            ‘Had to be sure you wore her out. She doesn’t make mistakes when she’s alert.’ Asa winks and Jesse shakes his head, rolling onto his side.

            ‘Sadist.’

            ‘Pot, meet kettle.’

            ‘Touché.’

[jackrrabbit]

Unprofessional [pt. 2] /// Yandere Tendou x f!Reader (18+)

Request: Bro can I request a super smutty yandere tendou x reader please there’s literally no content for him and I’m just a honry simp for him 😔 (also your writing is FANFUCKINGTASTIC I have read and reread all of your docs dude at least twice in conclusion you’re my favorite writing blog now)

A/N: Thank you omg I’m so honored, seriously I’m blushing?? Also I love Tendou too so ty for the request. Finished the second (and final) part one day late for his birthday  🎂🥳🎁🎊🎉

Summary: The new hire you’re supposed to be training at your office job is a little too attached for his own good…or yours. [Part 1]

Tags/warnings: yandere, timeskip (Tendou is 23), noncon, mildly inebriated sex, restraints/bondage, threats, Tendou is incapable of shutting up, liberal use of “senpai”

You look so cute like this, wrapped up like a pretty birthday present just for him. Tendou likes you so much it hurts.

Your breaths are intentionally steady, like you’re counting out the proper number of seconds on each inhale and exhale in an effort to appear calm. Your chest heaves lightly, and he’s got an almost-perfect view of it with your blouse unbuttoned and your bra pushed up over your tits. He’d prefer to have you completely topless, but with your hands tied behind your back with his belt, his options are limited.

Tendou’s already shimmied your sensible pencil skirt down over your thighs to expose your legs. You looked so sexy in just your open shirt and pantyhose, but he had to take the hose off for access. Besides, removing the sheer black fabric (slowly, so that it wouldn’t rip—he knows those things aren’t cheap) gave him the opportunity to feel up your legs. Panties came next, and now you’re on your back glaring up at him with your legs crossed and folded to hide your naked pussy.

It’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. Of course he took a few pictures.

The only issue is the gag. Tendou has his tie wound over your mouth to keep you quiet. It won’t do—he wants to see your face, after all—but he’s already got a fix, in the form of a little square of plastic he takes from his pocket.

He holds it up close enough that you can see it. “Do you know what this is?”

You don’t nod or anything, but you definitely recognize it—a condom.

“We’re going to have sex, senpai.” Tendou picks up on the little catch in your breath when he says the word ‘sex’, but he doesn’t think about it. “I don’t really care if I wear a condom, but I think you probably do. Is that right?”

You don’t respond.

“Senpaiii…don’t be stubborn. Nod yes for a condom, or else I’m not gonna wear one.”

You glare like you want to kill him, but you nod. Haha, how cute.

“Okay, good. I like when you do what I tell you. Now, I want to take the gag off, but I won’t do it if you’re going to be loud, you understand? It’s rude to bother your neighbors late at night. And…” He pauses. “Just to make sure you play nice, if you don’t listen to me I’ll take the condom off and cum inside. You don’t want that, do you?”

You shake your head frantically.

“Thought so.” Tendou’s pale, nimble fingers splay out over your inner thigh. “Then can you promise you’ll be nice?”

It takes you a long minute during which Tendou entertains himself petting the sweat-damp skin of your thigh, but you finally nod.

“Great!” Tendou grins and reaches down to untie the gag.

You take a minute to open and close your mouth, probably trying to stretch out the stiff muscles before you speak. Your voice is impassive and cool like you’ve been practicing what you’re going to say. “Tendou, you need to untie me. You’re very drunk and not in your right mind. Don’t do something you’re going to regret.”

Instead of listening to you, Tendou chooses to strip. Your composed mask slips for a second when he takes off his boxers to reveal his stiff, throbbing hard cock, already aching red and drizzling strands of precum onto his hand when he strokes it up and down. “Don’t worry baby, I sober up quick. I might be a lil tipsy but I’m not gonna have any trouble performing. Not for you.”

He crouches down to center you in between his arms, holding his head directly above yours. “And besides—“ you try to pull back away from his hot breath but your limited range of movement prevents you from getting anywhere— “I’m not going to regret this.”

Your lips are soft under his and you still taste fresh and sweet and minty from the toothpaste. You’re unresisting when his tongue prods into your mouth, but that’s not enough. “Kiss me back,” he murmurs, and you do. Maybe it’s just mindless—he’s sure you’ve kissed other people, as much as he’d like to pretend otherwise—but the movements of your lips and teeth and tongue against his feel almost eager.

“Ha…my first kiss with senpai,” Tendou says, pulling back and licking over his swollen lips. It would be nice to take his time with everything, but there’ll be more chances for that later. He loves the way your eyes trace him as he sticks his own fingers in his mouth to cover them with saliva.

“What are you doing?” you ask, but your question is answered when Tendou easily pulls your legs apart and settles himself between them so he can have easy access to slide his spit-soaked fingers up the length of your slit. “Tendou—Tendou, wait—“

He shushes you and continues to drag his middle finger all the way up from your entrance to your clit, letting the rough texture of his skin combine with your slick lubricant and give you just enough stimulation to make your hips twitch. “Mm, you like that? Gotta get you ready baby…not to brag, but I’m a little bigger than most guys. Wouldn’t want to—oh, easy, easy, relax—wouldn’t want to hurt you.“

You wince and then try to hold it back, school your expression so he won’t see the discomfort on your face when a single finger pushes into you. It’s not that painful, but the physical feeling isn’t nearly as bad as the fact that you don’t want any of this.

“How is that?” Tendou asks, slowly rocking his index finger in and out of your pussy, barely curling the tip to seek out your g-spot. You suppress the minuscule jerk of your core as best you can, but you can’t quite make it invisible and he feels it. “That good, huh?”

You want so badly to be angry. You are angry. If you could speak your mind right now, you’d tell him to go to hell. Yes, it feels good (and even admitting that to yourself makes you want to curl up and die), but it’s just hormones, stimulation, reaction. You can’t help it. But you’re not going to say that to him, not if you have the least chance of convincing him to stop before he goes any further. “It’s…fine. But, Tendou—“

“Knew you would like it. Oh—“ Another finger forces into your cunt. “—you’re tight, senpai. It’s been a while, yeah? You don’t have a boyfriend, I’d know if you did…and you’re not the type to do this casually. Too focused on your career.”

“I…mm…” What is he saying? Typical Tendou running his mouth even while you’re focused on him fucking you with those long fingers, prodding away at that spot—that fucking spot that is somehow, somehow—

—making you wet.

It’s not like some kind of precision activity. Tendou isn’t building you up or being subtle about it. There’s no teasing, no gentle touches, he’s just stroking that same spot over and over and the flat of his hand is mashing against your clit carelessly and it’s so stupid and so messy and there’s nothing kind or loving about it so why is it working?

“Feel that? Feel how wet you are?” Tendou has that same self-satisfied grin as he works his fingers in and out. “Poor senpai… You needed this, but you can’t ask for it yourself, I understand.”

“I don’t need anything…” you say, but you can’t expect him to believe you when your juices are slipping in and out of your hole along with his fingers, lubing him up to move even faster than before. When he started, you were so tense and tight that he could barely twist his fingertips up to pad at your g-spot, but now? Your walls are hot and sticky and supple, sucking him back in every time he pulls out.

He wants to make you cum, he does. And if he keeps going, it’s not going to be long, is it? But it’s your first time together… Tendou feels his cheeks getting hotter. First time with senpai, first time seeing you and touching you and having you totally, completely belong to him. The first time he makes you cum, it should be together.

If he’s not mistaken, you look almost disappointed when his fingers work their way out of your pussy, drawing away from you and wiping clean on the inside of your thigh. “You—You’re not…?” you question, trailing off when apparently you can’t bring yourself to ask for it.

“Don’t worry baby, plenty of time for that when I’m inside you.” Tendou walks his way up on the bed to leave a kiss on your forehead, so quick that you can’t cringe away when he does it.

You look off to the side, determined not to give him the satisfaction of eye contact—not to mention you hate looking at him, you hate seeing his stupid creepy face leering at you like you’re…you’re lovers or something. Like he’s not forcing you. But your attempt to maintain even that measly degree of avoidance shatters when you hear plastic crinkling. Ripping.

He’s opening the condom.

“Tendou—Tendou, wait! Listen!” You swallow and try to pull yourself back into your workplace persona, the mentor he respected and learned from, even if it was just an act. “Listen to me, please. You’re making a mistake. If we—if we stop now, we can forget about it...we can go back to normal, I promise. Do you hear me? I promise.”

“Normal isn’t enough anymore. Y’know what normal is for me? I’ve loved you for fifteen years. Wanted this for so long.” Tendou rolls the condom on and then hikes your ass upward so his cock is lined up with your slit. “Senpai, don’t you think you’ve had your way for long enough? It’s time…it’s time for me to get what I want.”

For the first time since he caught you and pinned you down on the floor of your living room, you struggle, really struggle for all you’re worth. The stiff leather of Tendou’s belt bites into your wrists and forearms as you try and get out of it, but the restraints hold firm—in fact, it feels like they’re getting tighter the more you move. Your hands are going numb from lack of blood flow, the prickles of pins and needles stinging into your skin, but you ignore it. You’re too worried about being heard to scream (and how twisted is it that you’re more scared of your neighbors than him?) but you jerk your leg up in an attempt to kick him away.

Tendou catches your foot before it can hit him. Easily. It’s like he sees everything you’re doing before you do it. “Hey, hey, stop that. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Let me go, Tendou!” you hiss as loudly as you dare.

“Senpai…” His grip on your lower thigh tightens, a warning. “What did I say about being nice?”

You go limp. You don’t want to have sex with him, but you cannot—absolutely cannot—have him do it unprotected.

Tendou sighs as you relax in his grasp. “Good choice… Always so rational. But I want you to say it out loud, okay? Tell me you know what’s going to happen if you misbehave.”

Once again, you find yourself avoiding his gaze. How dare he say he loves you and then treat you like this. “…You’re going to take off the condom.”

“Yeah…” Once again, you feel the thick, stiff cock nudging against your inner thigh. He slides it up between your lips to slick it up. “And what am I going to do when I take it off?”

“You’ll…put it in raw. And…”

“And?”

“…c-cum inside.”

“And you don’t want me to do that. So behave, senpai.”

Tendou pushes into you in one deep stroke and you gasp. ‘A little bigger than most guys,’ he’d said. A little bigger? He’s a liar, again—he’s so big that you can already feel the thick head flush against your cervix, pressing there like he wants to go deeper. “T-Too deep, it’s too deep—“

“Shh, you just gotta get used to it…” Tendou leans down, folding your legs up into your chest so he can trap you between him and the mattress and speckle light kisses over your face. “You have to relax. I’ll be slow.”

The position is uncomfortable. He’s got your spine curled up off the bed and your thighs are burning from the stretch, but his skin bumps against your clit every time he makes the slightest movement. Once you’re steady, he pulls back a fraction and then thrusts back into you, barely moving, just enough that you can feel the pressure of his cockhead receding and then hitting back against your cervix. It’s slow, but it’s not slow enough—nothing is slow enough with how big he is.

Tendou kisses you again, pulling your head back to center so he can shove his tongue into your mouth just like he’s shoving his cock into your pussy. He’s not content to keep up the languid pace for long, though—as soon as you’re the tiniest bit relaxed, as soon as the barest muffled whimpers are forced out of your mouth, he’s lengthening his thrusts and slapping the entire length of his heavy cock back in and out of you.

You almost wish he would stop dragging it out. You don’t want to feel this, any of this, not him groaning into your mouth, not the weight of his body holding you down and spreading your thighs apart, and definitely not the dizzying friction of the head of his cock on your g-spot. You wouldn’t even be feeling it like this if he hadn’t prepared you and left you wanting.

You close your eyes and try to pretend that it’s someone else doing it to you, but it’s impossible. Tendou was right earlier, it’s been too long—there’s no one else in recent memory who you can picture in his place. Besides, it’s not like you’ve ever been fucked like this. Everything you can sense is screaming out that it’s him, him, him, from his whiny voice moaning out love confessions you don’t want to hear to the spicy-sweet cologne, the same one he wears around the office, now mixed with his sweat and so saturated you think you could choke on it.

You’re trying to imagine someone else’s cock driving your pussy open, anyone else—a boy you had a crush on in high school, the guy you’d lost your virginity to in college, even an actor you like—but it doesn’t work, because no matter who you try to pretend is fucking you you know it’s Tendou.

“Hey—senpai, look at me…” He’s patting your cheek, trying to get you to meet his gaze. “Open your eyes…look what I’m doing to you.”

“Don’t…don’t make me…” You shudder as he pushes all the way back in, bottoming out so he can grind his hips cruelly against your mound and provide untidy stimulation to your clit.

“Look.” Tendou’s voice is hard. He isn’t asking anymore.

With the threat from earlier hanging over your head, you don’t have a choice, do you? You open your eyes and look at him.

Tendou Satori. Even in the middle of drilling you, he’s beaming like you’re making him happy. There are twin pink patches high on his cheekbones under his eyes. He’s sweating—makes sense, he’s doing all the work. His lips are red and swollen from kissing you.

Tendou Satori, who brings you coffee at work even when you didn’t ask for it. Who misspells the same word 3 different ways every time he writes up a sales contract. Who said during his first interview that his greatest weakness is that he has a habit of going with his gut, and that his greatest strength is that his gut is usually right.

How is this the same person? No…no, that’s not what’s making you upset. It’s not that the Tendou fucking you is somehow so different from the one you thought you knew. It’s that he’s the same, the same man who never really listens when you say no, who never stops touching you when you say it bothers you. This is just the next thing. It makes sense.

“Senpai?” Tendou’s hips slow and he leaves his cock sitting thick and hard in your battered pussy. “Senpai? Are you…you’re crying?”

He’s blurry and your eyes sting and you want to wipe at them, but, well, your hands are tied. Literally. Tendou holds himself over you with one arm so the other can thumb over your wet eyes. “Don’t touch me,” you blubber out, knowing it won’t have any effect.

“Shh, shh, stop crying,” he says, sounding panicked. “Please stop crying. Please stop.”

Your silent weeping is interrupted by a whimper as he pulls out of you. You feel…something, maybe relief or maybe disappointment, but mostly you’re just overwhelmed. You’re slack as a puppet while he flips you over and carefully unbuckles the belt from your arms. The pins and needles return in full force once you’re unbound, discomforting to the point of pain as Tendou massages over the tender flesh with his own hands.

“Sorry…Looks like it was a little too tight.”

Once Tendou’s released you, you hold up an arm to examine yourself. There are red marks where the edges of the belt dug into your skin. Your hands are still prickly, still desensitized as you clumsily rub your eyes, but you just can’t seem to stop crying.

“Shh,” Tendou says over your shoulder from where he’s sitting behind you, and you’re so sick of hearing him shush you but you can’t bring yourself to respond. “I love you, senpai… Please don’t cry.”

The way he says it—so hurt, so caring, so desperate, makes your heart ache. You’d almost believe him…if he weren’t pushing you back down onto the bed, face first this time. You don’t have the energy to resist as he pulls your ass up to his hips. At least now you can bite down on the sheet to shut yourself up as he fills your aching cunt again.

This time, though, now that he’s fucking you like a dog, he’s got the space to reach down around your hips and stroke your clit. The shock of the contact is enough to scare the tears out of your eyes and you cry out.

Tendou takes your response as permission to do more, rubbing over your button with no regard for how delicate and sensitive you’re feeling. “Yeah, yeah, you like that… Senpai likes it when I touch her needy little pussy? Come on, let me hear you.”

“Tendou—mmph, Tendou, st—ahh…?” But you can’t really tell him to stop. You don’t want him to stop. If you’re going to have to get fucked like this, shouldn’t you at least get to get off? It’s only fair.

Fair. The thought crosses your mind and you almost laugh—maybe you would if the force of Tendou’s body weight wasn’t smothering your face into the pillows. Nothing about this is fair.

“Do you like it?” You can hear how excited he is. “Tell me—tell me you like it, senpai? Please. Please?”

With trembling arms, you raise your upper body off the bed just enough so that you can turn your head to the side and speak. “Keep touching me. Like that.”

He does, padding over your clit senselessly while his cock does its brutal work on your insides. You feel…fucking amazing, and Tendou’s so happy, so grateful to have your beautiful pure dirty body holding onto him, sucking him into your cunt and holding yourself around him like you’ll fall apart if he’s not inside you filling you up. Your pussy is incredibly responsive, clenching down in him in time with his fingers moving on your clit. God, he could cum right now…but you have to cum first, he has to make you cum, it has to be together.

He’s so glad you’re not crying anymore. You like it, he knows you do. He’s had you getting closer and closer for a while now, and all the ups and downs and stopping you before you can cum are definitely making you need it even more.

You’re getting louder. You probably don’t even realize it, but you are. Tendou wishes he had something recording.

“I’m—fuck, I’m…c-cu…” Telling him is reflexive, a gesture of courtesy you’re used to from previous partners. He doesn’t deserve it, but you give it to him anyway.

“Gonna cum, baby?” Tendou coos. His touches grow even rougher somehow, abusing your clit while he nudges himself out so he can slide his cock back and forth over your g-spot. The aggressive rhythm of the stimulation has your spine arching up and he pushes you back down to keep you in place. “Stay down…let me do it for you.”

“Tendou!” you cry out, and he feels it, feels you cum, feels your whole body wracked with tremors, feels the walls of your cunt squeeze his cock like you’re trying to hold him inside. Fuck. Fuck. It’s too good, your pussy is so tight and warm and drenched in your juices, he can’t think, he wants it, wants to cum, wants to cum with you, together, together, together.

Tendou’s hand leaves your clit just in time to grip your ass and slam himself back into you, holding you impaled on his cock while both of you shudder through your post-orgasm aftershocks. “Senpai…senpai. I love you,” he gasps, and cums, hips jerking against yours as his mind goes blank for a second.

Fuck, it feels good, feels like his eyes are rolling back in his head.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Tendou…” It’s all you can say. You can feel him getting softer inside you, and he pulls out to take off the condom. Once he’s gotten rid of it, you let him flip you onto your side and lie next to you on the bed.

“How was that, senpai?” Tendou asks, kissing you slowly. He cuddles up to you, pulling your back into his chest so your bodies are fitted together like puzzle pieces. His heart is pounding like a rabbit’s—you’d think it was cute if not for…everything.

You’re quiet.

“I know you liked it.” Another kiss, this time on the back of your neck. “You needed it just as much as I did. And I know you won’t want to admit it at first, right? You’ve got your professional reputation to maintain, I get it. But don’t worry—“

You wish he would shut up. You wish he would leave you alone. You wish he wasn’t holding you so close that you can feel his cock against your ass, and you wish—you wish you couldn’t feel him getting hard, again.

“—this was just our first time. And there’s gonna be lots more. You and me? We’re going to be together forever, senpai.”

[lovee-infected]

hello! may i please request NSFW headcanons of Lilia, Rook, Chenya (if you write for him), and Floyd dating a f!mc who is a brat in bed? thank you! (ps, i love your work so much, you deserve more attention and love!!!💖💖💖💖💖)

Feeling spicy tonight, aren't we?~

Warning(s): Nsfw, Bdsm, Orgasm denial, Dirty talk, Cum play

Spice will remain undercut!

He loves to have you explore his body. You little koebi sure are pretty curious, aren't you? He's a brat all the time nonetheless of how you're going to play, but watching your enthusiasm to challenge him and his big dick energy in bed makes him wants to take a step back and watch how far you may go.

He can pin you down within a second but if you wanna top, go on. It's your chance to show him how entertaining you can be, though it won't last all night. He'd just lend your body for you to play until you no longer can. But in case that you'd prefer to have him top you instead he won't be as kind.

Floyd has literally got no mercy when he tops, and having you continuing to tease him although you're well aware of what his immense thirst can do to you can only have one meaning: You want more. You look so cute when you get nasty in bed, so adorable. He loves in so much when you, his naughty baby, squirm under his rough touch like a tiny fish begging for water.

You won't need to tell him to go any harder or faster, he already knows how to turn the bed into a jungle. All he needs is you going along with his rough pace and driving him even crazier than usual.

Be careful not to go too far though, he's got his own limits. You're free to do whatever you want as long as he hasn't reached his orgasm but note that if you keep on teasing him afterwards even Floyd can be bothered. Better slow down with a slower pace or softer actions like kisses on tip of his cock or softly licking him so he can enjoy his orgasm.

Instead of getting to the point of causing him too much pain or making him ask you to stop, try teasing him. If he ejaculates in your mouth, instead of immediately swallowing it, keep it in your mouth and play with it. He'd surely be turned on even more if you go kinkier, you can open your mouth and use your fingers to play with his warm, sticky load. Making satisfying sounds or just gently humming "Mmmmm" as if you're so hungry for him to feed you his seed is another way of making it more erotic for both of you.

Go as kinky as you want to, but don't be fascinated if he decides to punish you when you're done. He'll force you to wear your underwear without cleaning after sex so you'll have to keep his seed on all the time. No need to mention that he'd probably leave a mess of markings and bites on you especially on places that are hard to hide, even your cheek.

You may be a brat in bed but remember that Floyd would continue to be a brat even after you're done, so when you're playing around in bed, better be prepared for the consequences coming after wards.

You know what they say: “Treat her like a Queen, fuck her like a whore.” Doesn't matter how much of a gentleman Rook is in the daylight, when the night comes, he's just the animal and you're the pray, watch him eat you.

Not that Rook is always one to go that wild during sex since he's still pretty considering toward his darling's emotions and limitations; he doesn't want to be the one enjoying your lovely time after all. He is more into love making than just having sex for fun, but he'd prefer it with more, well, excitement.

Why of course he doesn't mind you being a brat at all since it's nothing different from receiving your permission to go wild. Wanna play? Let's play.

You may end up being the one topping him at first because he is probably... intrigued. He likes to see whether your actions are as tough as your words when you ride him or not. Remember: He's got the stamina. He'll patiently wait until you can't take it anymore then pin you back and have his own turn. See how the tables are turned-? He can go for long, tiring rounds all night leaving you both in a mess of sweat and each other's juices as you'd still have to take in his huge cock.

When he tops, there's no stop until he makes you scream. He'd love to see how you'd go from a insubordinate brat to a helpless bottom hoe begging for mercy. So pittyful and needy, isn't that just beautiful?

Though he's quite the opposite as a bottom. He can see your growing excitement and nasty thoughts through your eyes so he doesn't mind giving you the chance to take advantage of him. He'll give his body to you with pleasure so you can play with him as you wish.

Other than getting to have his perfectly masculine body and sexy abs, remember etter that that soft, thicc and squishy butt of this man is an absolute treasure on its own so you better not lose the chance of getting to eat mister Hunt. You can get him to lie on his chest while still on knees so he is pushing his ass into the air, giving you the best advantage to have your meal.

You can do whatever you'd like to then, show how much you can do with that mouth of yours. Even give him a rim job in case you're into it. Use lots of saliva to make more enjoyable as you kiss or lick, he'd absolutely love it. Best part would be... biting. That squishy flesh of ass of his is softer than you'd ever imagine so better take the chance to eat him. In contrast to many men Rook doesn't mind you leaving some of those savage markings on his ass and you'd even get to hear him letting out some deep, sensual moans to the pillow when you're having his butt. It'd surely drown him in pleasure.

Got a kink you wanna try? Go on and throw it at him. He doesn't mind trying new things on you but often decides to let you be the one choosing them. Mostly because of the high possibility of his choices being too much for you, he doesn't want it to be that merciless. Be careful not to give him too much power though, try not to bring in any dangerous kinks otherwise it cannot be guaranteed if Rook can hold himself back or not.

Beware, Rook is a gentleman who knows when not to be gentle...

Oh lord, is he being underestimated? No matter how much of a brat you are, when Vanrouge's in the mood it's far beyond your limits to have a chance against a this pink gremlin in bed.

Better be into bdsm: Chains? Whips? Collars? Gags? Ropes? Butt plugs? Bring it on baby!

He actually does already keep quite a few of bdsm toys and matetials in his room, somewhere no one else can find but him of course. He allows you to choose your favorite color what he's going to use on you and when it's the time, he allows you to choose them for him.

Tie him up and make him your bottom slave, he doesn't mind at all~ People are quite predictable and uninteresting these days so, he likes to see how you may surprise him. Go nasty, go feral, go wild. Make him seriously cum after all these years with his uncool sleeping mates.

He may not seem to but he's quite hard to satisfy, especially as a bottom. Doesn't matter how much he's enjoying himself between your legs, it isn't going to hold him back from trying to piss you off.

"My my, Is that all you've got...? And I thought you were going to bring me some fun..."

He has a thing for humiliating you and watch how far you can go to prove him wrong. Top brat x bottom rat= Ultimate freaky cycle.

Regardless of how much of a bottom he can be, better be prepared for the times he tops. Both of you are freaks in bed but there's a difference: He's got the power. He'll definitely make you cry even if he has to use another of those orgasm spells on you.

As a top he'd want total dominance over his darling but he sure does want it to be hard to achieve. He wants to have to push you back in bed. Tease him so he can tease you even more, that's how it works.

Is into into inflicting pain through both physical side( Biting, chewing, nailing) and the erotic side. Leaving Markings behind and bloodplay may be his simplest kinks but he's also got a thing for playing with your body and mind.

Misbehave and you'd be punished; he can easily dig his long fingers inside you and have his long nail mercilessly crumb your walls before pulling out right as you're about to cum, leaving you in a painful mess inside your stomach wanting to cum so badly.

He's such a freak ass for edging, he'd get you to the brink of orgasm then backs off. He'd repeat this over and over as long as he likes to play before giving you an explosive orgasm. To bring you even more pain, he'd come up with one of his secret orgasmic spells to make you even needier that'll make you cry in pain. Ah yes, he is being a bitch and he doesn't mind at all. You would often end up screaming as you beg Lilia to let you cum, as if he's going to give in this easily. He's going to make sure that you'd learn your lesson.

"N-gah sugar. You gotta be punished for your veeeerrry poor manners tonight. My pet must learn to behave,"

Were you looking for that one pink neko who also happens to be a bottom bitch? Here he is! So get on top of him and kitty-play with him all night because it's all both you and him are asking for.

He isn't even going to fight back, things are much easier and better when someone else is in charge of the game, he can just lay back and enjoy the show. You have no idea how much fun you bring him everytime you pin him to the bed and tell him what a fuckable furry he is.

Chenya as well has got a little bratty side in him which can also be seen in bed; but it usually won't go any further than either make specific parts of his body invisible right at the moment you aren't expecting him to (Especially when you're giving him a hand job / blow job and suddenly his cock fades away-) or giving you nicknames. He isn't really into cursing or calling his partner names in bed but sure does have a thing for them having nicknames; especially those that radiate top energy. He'd actually come up with lots of fancy nicknames for you: Poison cookie, Marsh Mallow, Juicy lips, Majesty, Mama, Sexy witch,...

He's lowkey into bdsm as well so go get him some pink collars and gags, maybe some ropes tie him to bed as well- Note that he really enjoys getting o your nerves and having you punish him after wards. The harder, the better.

Chenya is more than ready to be your pet in bed so don't be surprised when he calls you mama; he's your pink naughty bitch so go on and would love it if you punish him for being such a nasty kitten.

He literally wants you to treat him like your bitch so the brattier you get, the more he'll love it. One of his favorites would be when yo give him one of those wild rides as you savagely pull the chain connecting to the tight collar you've put around his neck, lowkey choking him everytime you pull it up.

He loves watching you play with his cock, even thinking about that seductive sight between his legs as you take his length in makes him want to cum.

As he leaves most of the play-thing and decisions to his darling you won't get to see him doing much more than breathlessly smirking through his moans and dirty talking, telling you to either discipline him like a slut or keep him tied up forever and use him as your personal sex toy.

In case that you want to use him even more, know that he's an absolutely cute one to be pegged, his ass is more than ready for you to make him cry.

Feel free to sit oon his face cause he'd gladly command your order. While being a bottom hoe, he still knows how to put that mouth of his into use to satisfy his owner. his long togue would sharpy dance through your clit making you all wet in your magical juice like heck, he's really got something speak in that filthy tongue that'll make you want to force him to eat you out over and over.

He'd be recklessly laughing through his moans as if he's mistaken having sex with a free visit to the circus. He sometimes rambles nonsense as well; asking you unrelated questions using fancy nicknames he has given you. He mainly means to get on your nerves through it so you'd go even wilder.

See he loves having you punish him, bad kitties need a lesson.

[kth1]

Tiger Layer [Yoongi x Reader]

Tiger Layer [Yoongi x Reader] aka AgustD!king ⟶ Credit: @kimtaehyunq​​ ⟶ Genre: 21+ | Royalty AU | One Shot ⟶ Warnings: explicit, king!yoongi, dom!yoongi, servant!reader, spanking, hair pulling, controlling, demanding, blow job, he’s a cocky king (duh), slight gagging, unprotected sex, choking warning, creaming, squirting, hand prints, titty slapped, some nipple play, smut, multiple orgasms, etc ⟶ WC: 3.6k ⟶ Summary: You are here to serve your king. In any way he pleases. ⟶ Teaser: “Who is your king?” he growls, watching his dick disappear into your cunt. Admiring the way your juices shield his sword that pistons deep into you.” ⟶ Author’s note: I had to write a smutty fic about Blonde King Yoongi, fight me. This was literally whipped up within a day, so excuse any grammar problems. But I was too excited about this concept. 😊 *listens to Agust D 2*

The pads of your bare feet held you still against the expensive cold tile. You stand, silk robes dressing your body, staring at the plush royal bed before you. His bedchamber collected many unique riches, all showing his symbol of power.

Straightening your spine at the creak of the double doors behind you, your eyes that scanned the area averted straight. Intently listening to the steps resounding beside you, you swallow thickly.

He says nothing. Walking past your statue of a body standing in the middle of his chamber, you catch the wisp of his long platinum blond hair swaying gracefully in the air when his back comes to view. Your king makes way to the weapon rack, flicking a red tassel that hung loosely from the grip of a sheathed sword.

The black and gold linens of his attire blended well, a deadly combination to compliment the stark graphics of a circle goldened tiger representing authority and the aristocratic status, embedded into his cloth.

You did not dare to look for too long, if he caught you staring, you’d be scolded. You learned your lesson the first time. Each glance you made was brief, wondering when your king will ever turn to face you, to acknowledge your presence while you wait obediently. Patently standing until he addressed you.

The platinum whipped around after placing his personal single-edged blade on its frame. In your peripherals you can sense his narrow-cut eyes lingering on you as your eyes bore forward.

He knew how long you’ve been standing, waiting for him to join you in his chamber after his steamed bath. Beckoning his guards to relieve you of your nightly duties as a palace servant, something he has done many nights before. The king was good at making you wait on him, great at making you anticipate what’s yet to come – if something eventful ever came.

Nonchalantly, he walks through your gaze with a smug grin, rolling his neck with a series of cracks and pops. He disappears behind the standing screened room divider, decorated with painted bamboo patterns in a darker color. His silhouette casted his shape, you couldn’t help yourself from watching his shadow mirror his actions, stripping his body from his exorbitant garments.

Though he knew you were watching, that’s why he purposely shielded his body from your view. His deep chuckle causing you to blush and snap your eyes back straight, he blew out the lit candle before stepping into the opening.

He’s bare, from the waist up – wearing his multiple scars with pride. His singular silk set of charcoal black pants tight around his hips and flowed casually to the floor. His dark eyes prolonged their attention at you as the king stepped closer, closing the distance until he was looking down at your face.

Intimidation. You felt like a mouse who was caught in a cage with a tiger, and with all your determination you continued to focus forward even when his body blocked your view.

Your breath hitched once his calloused hand raised to your face, rings still adorned to each of his fingers. His grip is firm around your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his.

“Remove it.” He commanded, his lips barely parting for the escape of the words.

You met his emotionless eyes, flickering between the dark orbs with yours. Enough to take in his presence, the daunting aura he casted. With no resistance your hand guided up to the knot of your belt, tugging on the strap and releasing the robe. With a shrug of your shoulders the material slid down, revealing the unclad body underneath.

A glint of amusement flashed across his face, enjoying how amenable such a servant is. Your king turned away, dropping his fingers from your jaw and with few strides he sat at the edge of his embellished bed. His head cocked arrogantly, legs spread to their sides, he stared at your nude body and nothing else. With a pointed nod, he signaled your actions.

“Come.”

From prior experiences, you knew what he gestures for. The serious tone in his voice showed demand, and you heed your order deliberately. Your knees met the stone tile below you, the cool temperature contrasting your ever-rising warmth. Heart stuttering to remain sane in your chest, you bowed curtsy to your king.

Superior to you, you submitted to your king just as he charged. Your hands casted up his calves, feeling the material of his pants on the pads of your thin fingers. Once reaching his waistband, you pulled. Unsheathing the king’s half-hard cock in one swift moment.

Excitement bubbled within you, a spark in your eye as you admired the curvature and soft texture of his skin. The tip pinkened, and with a flex of his lower abdomen muscles he jolts his dick up, regaining your attention.

With a growl he spoke, “Hurry up. Take it.”

“Y-Yes sir.”

You did not temporize your king any longer, grabbing onto his lengthy member with a fist. Your hand jerked him awake, cock hardening under your ministrations and oozing clear liquid. His Royal Highness carded his fingers through your hair, grazing his nails against your scalp and nudging you towards him.

Your mouth found its way kissing against his girth, starting from the base all the way to the head. With a swipe of your tongue you cleaned the sticky fluids leaking from him in preparation of adding your own lubrication and gliding your mouth down on him.

Inch by inch you lowered with the persistent help of his hand pushing you down. He guided you, using your mouth for his own pleasures. Soft groans escaped him, audible queues which told you that your work is acceptable and satisfying for him.

He tilted your head to better his view of your saliva wet lips wrapped around his cock. The sight causing him to tighten his fist within your hair, shoving you deeper than you expected. The king chuckled when you anchored your hands against his thighs as you struggled to allow his full girth enter you. His cock hitting the back of your throat with such force you gagged around him out of reflex.

Tears formed at the brim of your eyes, and you looked up with him with plea. His demeaning stare made you wince, though after repeating the action a few more times he finally released you from his strong hold. Regaining the breath you lost, your voice came out hoarse. “Yoongi I –“

Abruptly, he stood up, his hand latching around your neck and lifted you to your feet. “What did I tell you? Don’t you ever learn little jade?” Instinctively your hands wrapped around his wrist, holding your own against him. Yoongi’s fingers tightened around your throat, enough to feel the rush of heat run to your head. “What’s the point of your voice if I can’t hear you moaning my name? Should I snuff it out?” His lips upturned into a wicked smile, shaming you for speaking.

You vigorously shook your head, stretching your neck in attempt to breath from his restriction. He lowered his head to your height, “Speak again, and I’ll make sure you won’t be able to speak for a week.” With that, he unclasped his hold.

Out loud you coughed with a flushed face, spit still dripping down your chin. It wasn’t long until Yoongi gripped your waist, drawing you against his scarred body. Hard dick firmly pressed against your stomach, he glowered. “Wipe that pout off your lips.”

Your mouth opened as to speak, but quickly closed it shut when you noticed his eyebrows raise in annoyance. Do not challenge him.

At this distance, you couldn’t help but take your time admiring his facial scar that extended over his right eye. The cicatrix casted a smooth shine, tinted red from the transparency of the skin. And when you noticed him reading your features in return, Yoongi then shoved you passed his body – face first into the duvet of his bed.

Landing with a thump, a compressed palm landed on the small of your back, holding you still. Yoongi positioned himself behind you, the round of your ass being caressed by his free hand. “What do you think you’re doing?” His tone was low, stern.

Smack!

Your body flinched at the sudden impact of his harsh hand landing a stinging pain across your ass-cheek. Automatically your knees jerked into the edge of the bed, elbows digging into the covers. Your attempt of constraining your yelps failed you, especially once Yoongi’s ring-laced fingers collided with the flesh of your skin again.

Smack!

He held you down, dispensing blow after blow with welts, until your cheek turned bright red. The heat of your skin burned, a numbing sensation from the stings taking over the area. If you spoke you were disobeying, so you lay there voiceless, only your imploring whines supplying the room along with the contact of his slaps.

You felt his hand raise once more, recoiling yourself for the impact you expect. That is, until the sudden fling of the double doors to the bedchamber spread open. Two guards charging in quickly to a halt.

“Your Majesty! Apologies for intruding but –“

Hastily you jumped up, only to be forced down. Yoongi with his toned back to them, pants snug under the swell of his ass, tilted his head to speak over his shoulder – hand still hovering the air. “Get out.”

Your heart beat rapidly, from the heat of the activities between the king and the new troupe who interrupted the moment. The room suddenly becoming vastly overcrowded by wondering eyes that did not respect the view and its intimacy.

“Sire… he’s here in the city.” One of the guards spoke up, you unable to understand the reference he was stating.

The king groaned with a roll of his eyes, hand now cupping the rising imprinted flesh of your ass. Your face buried into the blanket, hiding the form of embarrassment and blush. If Yoongi moved his stance, he’d give the guards the perfect view of your full moon on display. But instead, he remained still.

“Arrange a meeting for the morning. I’m retired for the night.”

There was silence among them, only a shifting of metal plates – ones that belonged to the guards’ armor – could be heard through the standing. Yoongi’s hands left your body, his presence and proximity vanishing as you lay there frozen. Mumbled whispers can be heard, displease spirits laced with whatever interaction was going on between the guards and the king.

“Get the fuck out!” Yoongi barked, the loud ominous voice jolting you from your position, shielding yourself away from prying eyes once you turned around in a flash. You had no clue who he was talking to until you witnessed the stand off between the men, the guards politely bowing their goodbyes before leaving the premises.

At the click of the doors shutting, Yoongi craned his neck back to look at you, eyes icy as ever. Something darker lays within them now, the sharp angled eyes narrowed at your being. You searched his profile wanting to question him, what happened, who’s here?

Yoongi stalked towards you, feet stomping against the floor with his heavy steps. “Who said you can turn around?” He interrogated you, chest rising with each passing moment. Your lithe body staggered up the length of the bed, running into the pile of ornamental pillows. Upon reaching the edge of the bed he rid himself of the last article of clothing on his body, dick still fully erect. Yoongi crawled, like a golden tiger, towards you with tenacity and irritation.

With a tug at your ankle, he yanked you down to meet him halfway. Body now laying under him, you gasp at the sudden invasion of his calloused fingers gliding up the expand of your thigh. The king repeated himself, “Who said to turn around?”

His conflicting demands ran you insane, not understanding what was considered disobeying. Answering him, would go against his no talking rule – yet if you didn’t speak when spoken to, you show a dereliction of duty. It was his way at winning, always. And an excuse to punish you whenever he pleased.

With his intense stare, you felt faced with those two options you would far prefer the latter.

“I-I thought you were telling me to get out!”

Yoongi’s face uplifted, bemused of all things. He tittered, giving a short, half-suppressed laugh. His body towered over yours, portions of his lengthy hair cascaded around his frame. “Little jade,” he whispered as he bent down to your face. His gaze fell to your quivering lips, suppressing yourself from forming anymore words. “I’ll tell you to get out when I’m done with you.”

His hand slid up the curve of your hip, breezing against your supple skin to the crest of your breast. In a swift motion he groped your mound, fingers squeezing between your hardening nipple. A soft moan escaped pass your lips while his lips connect to the other bud, sucking in roughly. You mewled into him, arching your back away from the mattress.

Yoongi didn’t hesitate to move his knee up between your legs, forcing them open wider and make room for him to slip between. Your hands raised uncertainly to hover, soothing your touch against his robust shoulders and biceps. A sharp nip at your boob forces you to tense up, a mark soon to form where his teeth dug. Yoongi snatched your wrists unexpectedly, hoisting your arms above your head. “Now you think you can touch me?” He scoffed, “submit to me.” He urged, emphasizing the importance of what’s at stake here as he prodded his cock against your inner thigh.

Your chest heaved staring back into his lust-filled eyes. The thoughts of your king relishing in you, using you for his own pleasure, and mounting your body flooded your memory. Countless times he’d called you to his chamber, numberless times had he abused your body so deliciously that it left you aching for more. But only and only when you obeyed every command.

You raised your legs to is waist, with a twist of your head you bared your neck to him – your signature for final defeat. “Take me.” You bit down the words, but they came clear as day to him.

His body molded into yours, his head landing in the crook of your neck and dick effortlessly grinding against your dripping cunt. With wrists still held tightly above your head, you bucked your hips up to meet his strides hoping to catch the tip if his cock. Yoongi hummed into your ear, a hand fondling your open chest, “fucking drenched,” he mused.

“Is that why you’re so rebellious? You can’t wait to have my cock crammed inside you?” His cocky ego shining bright with each twist of your nipple, and you leave open mouthed breathes. Your natural essence coated his thick curved cock, allowing him to glide against you with ease. He laughs at you; at the way your body chases his with every moment.

He favored your flushed-out face, the reddening of your skin and moistening of your cunt. Perhaps that’s why he didn’t prolong the urge to plunge into you, the moment the head of his cock dipped between your pussy lips he forced himself past your velvety walls.

You moaned out, pushing your body into his while Yoongi’s royal dick reached to the hilt. He let out a guttural groan, burying his face into the column of your neck. Relentless, the king thrusted into you, fucking you into the bed, hardly giving you time for the proper adjustment to the girth of his cock.

He released your wrists, “Keep them up and don’t move them,” with a swift movement Yoongi lifted himself as he pries your legs from his waist, stretching them as far as your body was capable up and continued to pound into you spread eagle. You heaved, moans breaking apart one after one while Yoongi smirks down at you.

“Who is your king?” he growls, watching his dick disappear into your cunt. Admiring the way your juices shield his sword that pistons deep into you.

Your hands dug into the duvet, crinkling the material between each digit. “Yo-You are!” You wailed into the air, the ache of your hips straining against the weight of Yoongi. You did not dare to ask him to ease up, not when his dick continuously rammed into the sweet spots within you.

Yoongi glared at you, daggers stabbing into your profile. With a flick of his wrist, he slapped one of your breasts. “’You’?”

“King Min Yoongi!” You squealed from his lash, arms jolting forward to cover your bouncing tits.

Yoongi tsked you, disproval of your lack of compliance. He halted his drive, glancing over your nimble body that quaked underneath his. The king gripped your waist, turning you over quickly on all fours. Hoisted ass in the air, his hand snaked around the curves of your inner thighs, lingering his fingers up to your dripping heat.

Two deft fingers found their way circling your entrance, you involuntarily clenching around nothing but the tease of his digits. “Say it again.” He commanded with pressure against your clit, pinching slightly. With a shrill you repeated, “King Min Yoongi!”

The king hummed, realigning himself once again to seep his dick inside you. Your head fell forward for a brief second until a hand tugged you back by your hair, lifting you against his chest with his never-ending hip snaps. His pace was steady but urgent, his lack of mercy was brutal against your cunt and you cried out with glee.

“Touch yourself, cum over my cock.” His teeth grazed your ear, biting down on the lobe. You follow his word, fingers finding your engorged clit and rubbing half-circles against it. Instantly you found yourself tightening around him, mouth gapped open as you found that tender sweet itch your bud yearned for.

Wave after wave did your orgasm shock you, moaning loud for whoever to hear. Yoongi held strong against your waist, submerging his dick. Deep grunts left his throat, the beast within him climbing out the more you clamped around him.

Warm liquid trickled slowly between your thighs while you trembled, opting to hold yourself upright with the support of your hands after Yoongi’s fist is removed from your hair. The position didn’t last long, finding yourself flipped back over to face him.

He watches your fucked-out face, the glistening of thin sweat over the crown of your forehead. His self-satisfied smile plastered wide; he holds your legs open wide once again. Yoongi stares down at your heat, praising the vibrating aftershocks. “Still soaked for me,” he addressed with a cock of his eyebrow.

You caught your breath, nodding your head rather, already feeling your body spent. Yoongi furrowed his brows, “You’re going to scream out my name, you’re going to let everyone in this palace know too.” He lifted your leg, raising it against his chest as he fitted his body between them. In this new position, you felt pretzeled around him, but welcomed his dick eagerly.

Yoongi nails you deeply, jackhammering his cock along with the squelching sounds filling the room. The sensitivity of your post orgasm heightened everything, your body stiffening and tighter. And it doesn’t stop Yoongi from splitting you in half, dick kissing your cervix.

Tossing your head around you moan wantonly. Keening at each impalement.

“Who’s you king?”

“Ki-King Min Yoongi!” You gasp, feeling the coil of pressure twisting in your stomach. Tingling sensations fluttering around your pussy. Your walls unyieldingly hugged him.

“Louder!” He snapped his hips into you, skin slapping into a sting.

You screwed your eyes shut, “Ki – Min… ah!”

The creeping second orgasm drove faster the moment Yoongi’s thumb pressed against your exposed swollen clit, flicking the bud rapidly.

“Louder!” He smiled, “Louder my little jade, fuckin’ say it! I’ll fuck my bastard child into you – say it.” His skillful fingers pinched your clit in time with his thrusts, causing your body to convulse around him with another blissful orgasm. Liquid spurting between the two of you and leaking onto the expensive bedspread.

“Yoongi!” You cried; tears dropped down the sides of your face in a frenzy.

The king leaned forward, faltering his pace with a few last bucks of his hips. Yoongi spilled his entire royal seed as deep as he can go, savoring his sheathed cock as he continued to feel your walls flutter around him.

After moments passed, he slid himself out, dropping your leg and rolled off the bed. Still dazed you lay still on his bed. Aimlessly your eyes followed his figure while he reached for his silk embroidered robe, draping the cloth around him. His cold-cut eyes met yours, a bored emotion across his face.

You can feel the heat of his intense stare, burning holes into you – and you couldn’t move your body. “Get out.”

Without thinking you sat up, mixed liquids squeezing out of you and onto the bed. Your body shaking with vibrations you sat awkwardly, swallowing hesitantly as you looked up at him with desperation. You were dirty, drenched, and feared your legs wouldn’t get you too far if you stood.

Yoongi noticed your current state, almost a cocky grin dressing his lips when he gave a look over at you. He scooped up your initial robe on the floor, tossing the fabric to a nearby chair and turned away towards the double-doors.

“S-Sir I can’t –“

“I know.” He spoke over his shoulder, the blond of his hair flowing down his back, “I’ll have a servant fetch you some towels and new linens. Be gone by the morning.” Coolly he cracked his neck, eyes gazing over you. “I have a meeting with my twin.”

“Yes, sir... Thank you.”

© All rights reserved under @kimtaehyunq​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This tumblr is the ONLY place my fics are posted.

[illfoandillfie]

Pet Names, Double Dates and Other Fiascos

READ PLATONICALLY

Request:  SECOND ARO FIC OH MY GOD !!!! maybe them getting a lil dirty and ben really does a number on reader, so he takes her to mcdonalds or sumn and the waiter says something along the lines of “you’re such a cute couple!” and reader gets really uncomfortable with it maybe??? and ben being taking her home and cuddling her PLATONICALLY and he’s like “it’s ok we don’t need to let anyone else’s opinions affect us”

Pairing: Aromantic!Fem!Reader x Ben Hardy

Summary:  It's (nearly) all fun and games until someone assumes your relationship is romantic.

Warnings: Smut, kitchen sex, floor sex, oral sex (f receiving), a mild hint at choking, vaguely dom!Ben but not intentionally lmao, discussions of aromanticism and queerplatonic relationships, not as dialogue heavy as the first part though. 

Words: 7, 264

A/N: Happy Arospec Awareness Week!! Big thanks to the anon who sent in that request when I asked for ideas for future chapters. I put a little bit of a twist on your idea but it’s fundamentally the same. Also the last scene is one that I’ve been thinking about for literal months now and I finally managed to fit it into a fic! 

As always, if you’re curious about anything to do with aromanticism I am very happy to talk about it and answer questions! 

Taglist:  @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama​ @deakyclicks​ @jennyggggrrr​ @drowseoftaylor​ @hannafuckingsucks​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ @queenmylovely​ @ilovequeenmorethanyou​ @johndeaconshands​ @borhapbois​ @stardust-galaxies​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @scorpiogemini

The day had started off well. You woke with Ben tucked up under your arm, his legs curled up towards his chest since you’d stole the covers as you’d slept. Your face was pressed against the back of his neck and you felt him shift as you sighed sleepily and tried to keep from waking. Squeezing your eyes shut and pretending you hadn’t stirred must have worked because the next thing you knew was waking up to an empty bed and tinkly tapping sounds from somewhere else in the apartment. Groggily you shuffled out from the inviting comfort of the mattress, stretched, and pulled down the hem of the shirt you’d slept in to better cover your otherwise bare thighs before following the noises. You found Ben, still in his pyjamas (well, his boxer briefs) in the kitchen, dropping a couple of toasted waffles onto a plate, humming to himself.

“That for me?” you asked, stifling a yawn. “It can be,” he said, passing the plate to you with a quick kiss on your cheek, “There’s some cut up fruit and the maple syrup out on the coffee table and there’s coffee brewing over there,” “Thanks Benny,” “You’re welcome, Puddin’,” “Puddin’?” “I thought it was cute,” “Very cute.” You laughed as you reached for your coffee, unable to help but smile as you left the room. The first few months of your partnership had taken some adjusting and one thing Ben had decided he would do to make you both feel more at home with the dynamic was to come up with some non-romantic based terms of endearment for you. You’d vetoed things like baby and honey straight away, all of them a little too heavily skewed towards romance, or just reminders of past relationships you’d tried to force yourself into, for you to enjoy them. But, as Ben had said, he liked a good pet name, and he’d seemingly been determined to prove as much, constantly coming up with new things to call you. You, never really one for pet names anyway, mostly stuck with Benny or Benjamin if the situation called for something longer but you had a few other go-tos – things like Pet and Blondie as signs of affection, or Handsome and Tiger when you wanted to make him blush.

A few minutes later Ben joined you on the couch, placing his coffee down beside yours, almost spilling it as he watched the news story that was playing. “Remember we’ve got that double date with Jill and Martin this afternoon,” you said, the memory only just coming to you yourself. “Yeah, what time was that?” “Hang on, I’ll check the chat.” You scrolled through the messages on your phone with one hand while you ate with the other, “uhhh right, yeah, meeting at the bowling alley at 1.30.” “Bowling? Good, better than another shitty movie,” You laughed, “hey the last one they picked wasn’t too bad.” “Yeah I know, just not in the mood for it since I’ve been on set all week. I know if I went to the cinema now I’d just get distracted thinking about all the behind the scenes stuff which isn’t ideal for becoming invested in the story. Plus they’re always choosing romcoms, doesn’t that get annoying for you?” “Not really,” you shrugged, “I mean, do I sometimes wish they’d branch out? Sure. But I enjoy romance in fiction I just don’t need it in my real life. Don’t get me wrong though, very happy to do something different this time.” “How long d’you think we’ll be out?” You shrugged, “A few hours maybe?” “We should pop to the shop on the way back then. You need milk and we could get something nice for dinner.” “Sounds good. Does that mean you’re staying over again tonight?” “I was planning to, yeah. Barely saw you last week so I was hoping to spend all weekend with you to make up for it.” “Bet you regret agreeing to go out with them now,” “Kinda. S’pose it’s too late to cancel though,” “Nah you still could but you know they’ll get stroppy about it and we’ll have to go out with them next week. They don’t have any other couple friends since Neil and Percy split and Bianca took her fella overseas.” “Yeah, wasn’t seriously suggesting it.” “What would the plan have been if we did cancel?” Ben chewed a mouthful of fruit thoughtfully, “you, me, your bed. No need to be too quiet since Sophie’s still out,” he glanced at your roommate’s bedroom door, his eyes swinging back to you as he continued, “Or y’know, we could do a puzzle and listen to music all day, have a cat nap after lunch, whatever.” “You’re cute when you’re being all lazy,” “There would be nothing lazy about it thank you very much,” “Cat naps aren’t lazy?” “You know that’s not the part I was talking about,” “It wasn’t? Then what won’t be lazy,” you tried to hold back a giggle in the middle of your faux confusion but broke when Ben blew a raspberry at you in response.

Nothing more was said about cancelling as you finished your breakfast, though truthfully you probably wouldn’t have minded if Ben had cried off sick and rescheduled the double date. But you both decided that Sunday would be a day for just the two of you to make up for having to spend Saturday afternoon with others. Instead, you spoke of the week just passed and commented on the news still playing on the TV. When you were finished (Ben using the last corner of one of his waffles to swipe the remnant syrup from his plate) you stood and stacked the sticky dishes in your arms. Ben collected the coffee cups and a few other assorted dishes from the previous night, leading the way towards the kitchen and the dishwasher. He loaded his small collection onto the shelves before turning to grab the top plate from the pile you held. A noise of disgust rose from his throat as you held the plate out and he miscalculated the trajectory, his palm landing in a puddle of syrup and fruit juice. You were torn between laughing at his expression and taking the opportunity to toy with him a little but, always ready to tease him, your desire to see him blush won out. Trying not to smile too much, you reached forward and wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his palm closer so you could lick the sweet syrup from his skin. Predictably his cheeks turned pink and he pulled his lip between his teeth as you let him go with a laugh. “Bet you’re really wishing we didn’t have to go out now, huh Tiger?” Ben didn’t respond but he did react, his eyes locked on you as he swiped his fingers along the same plate and held them out in offering. Not quite sure where things were heading but very keen on finding out, you leaned forward and let your lips part slightly. He took the action for what it was, an invitation, and trailed his fingertips across your lower lip before slipping them between the two. He watched closely as you sucked his fingers deeper, using your tongue to lick up the sweet residue. There was still an element of novelty with this aspect of your partnership. Still part of you that was intensely aware that it was Ben’s fingers in your mouth. There wasn’t any hesitation though, hadn’t been since that first time when you’d both had to psych yourselves up to actually look at each other naked. But there was a part of your brain that was almost surprised when you found yourselves at the edge of a sexual situation. You suspected he was similarly discombobulated by how easy it was for you to end up there, how frequently playful teasing and friendly jokes turned into hands grasping at bed sheets and breathless moans against sweat-slick skin. He pulled his fingers free from your lips, unwilling or perhaps unable to shift his gaze away from the thin string of saliva that connected them like some kind of erotic spider web that you were both already caught in. You waited to see what he’d do next, feeling your heart race in the pregnant pause so full of potential. And then he moved. You laughed as he grabbed you around the waist and lifted you at the same moment he stepped towards the bench, your legs instinctively wrapping around him. He kissed you too, hungrily, as if it were impossible to resist. You’d looked down at him and suddenly been pulled towards each other, lips meeting with all the force and attraction of a magnetic field. Usually, he would have had a hand against the back of your head or your jaw but carrying you meant both his hands were already occupied so instead you substituted your own, tangling your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck to keep him from pulling away too far. As soon as you were safely positioned on the edge of the bench though his hands were free to fall elsewhere. One pressed against the small of your back as the other squeezed your thigh, encouraging you to keep your legs spread. Not that you could have closed them with Ben standing between them and not that the thought had even crossed your mind.

If you’d had all day Ben probably would have taken his time with you. Despite what he’d said earlier, you’d discovered Ben had a soft spot for slow and sensual intimacy. Making out that gradually built to passionate kiss-filled sex, foreplay that included soft caresses and whispered praise, anything that let him explore your body in intricate detail with his hands and lips. You’d been with guys like that before and had hated their insistence on linking hands and kissing you slowly. Those relationships never lasted long but with Ben it felt different, it felt good. Maybe it was because he knew you weren’t on board with overtly romantic acts and respected those boundaries you’d talked about so you never felt as if he were pushing you into a roll you didn’t enjoy. Or maybe he was just a better lover than they had been. Either way, it came to same result. You still preferred something less gentle and more energetic, though you felt you better understood the appeal of being held so close and kissed so tenderly. But with only a few hours before you’d have to start getting ready, Ben was inclined to speed things up a little. His hand quickly slipped up your thigh to press against your pussy, the cotton knickers you’d slept in the only thing keeping him from direct contact. You broke the kiss suddenly, the smacking sound loud in the small room, and dipped your head to press your lips to the notch between his clavicles. In response, Ben lifted his chin, exposing more of his throat to you and you took the chance to playfully nip at the junction where his neck and shoulder met. “Oi, no marks,” he said lwoly as you moved to kiss back up towards his jaw. “Afraid I’ll brand you with my initials?” “If you could legibly write your initials in hickeys I’d put up with whatever teasing the makeup ladies gave me,” “I’ll give it a crack then shall I?” Before you could so much as flick your tongue over his skin, Ben had raised a hand and placed it over your mouth to keep you from testing our your writing abilities, “Don’t think theres enough time, Sugar, but if you really want to I’ll let you try tonight, on my thigh where no one is likely to see it.” “Make it your arse and you’ve got a deal,” you said though it was a little muffled by his palm. “Fine,” he laughed, drawing his hand away, “But then I get to try it on you too,” You nodded, grinning, and then both fell into giggles, leaning against each other’s shoulders. This was what you’d hoped for when Ben had first approached you with the idea of being partners, what you’d been afraid you’d never actually find. Someone who would follow your tangential jokes even if it delayed sex. Someone you could be yourself with. You were distracted from the thought as Ben pressed his lips to your shoulder over the sleeve of your shirt. “Should I continue?” he asked, still smiling though softer, his fingertips lightly dancing over the crease of your thigh. “I’d be offended if you didn’t” “Can’t have that,” he leaned in to catch your lips once again, at the same time resuming stroking you over your panties so that you felt all the air leave your lungs in a rush. It felt good but you need more and so shifted your hips, trying to press yourself harder against his fingers. To get more leverage and better brace yourself as your centre of gravity changed, you dropped a hand behind you. Intuitively, Ben shifted the hand on your back higher and closer to your side to help keep you steady, the other still drawing lines along your clothed slit. You gasped as his thumb took up residence against your clit, rubbing it firmly so a visible damp patch began to form on your panties.

Ben grinned at you as your breath came harder and dragged his thumb back down away from your clit towards the leg of your underwear. Still watching your reactions, he twisted his fingers up under the material, gently tracing them along the same path they’d just followed only now he could feel your wetness directly. “I’ve got an idea,” he said, leaning close to your ear, as he circled your entrance with a fingertip before pressing it into you, “of how I’d like to fuck you right now. It might take a little flexibility on your part though. I mean, nothing too much, just getting your legs up on my shoulders.” Curious, and more than a little distracted by the addition of a second finger inside you, you nodded, “Sounds fun.” “Knew you’d say that. Just tell me if it’s too uncomfortable,” “Will do.” You leaned forward as Ben moved back a little, taking his fingers with him, giving you enough room to drop your hand to his crotch and grasp his stiff length through his undies, “Just get on with it.” “Puddin’ was too nice a nickname for you. Sugar too.” he gasped as you dragged your palm along his length and back again. “What’s the matter, Tiger?” “Maybe I should call you Tiger, if you’re going to keep grabbing my cock like that,” You laughed and let him go, leaning back on your palm again, “Tigress? Whatever, doesn’t matter. Are you going to fuck me or not?” “No I just wanted to get my dick hard for no reason,” he said sarcastically, poking his tongue out at you as he pushed his underwear down. “You’re such a –” you broke off with a sharp gasp as Ben tugged your underwear aside and pressed into you without warning, “dork.” Ben chucked and leaned in to kiss you quickly before readjusting your position a little by pulling you closer to him so your arse was right against the edge of the bench. Slowly he rolled his hips against you, pulling back and thrusting forward again, finding a rhythm that worked. You leaned back on both palms as Ben grabbed you by the waist, the other resting on your knee to keep it pressed against his side. “This feel alright?” he asked as he gave another thrust, hitting a spot deep inside you. “Mmhmm,” you nodded, able to feel yourself growing wetter with each stroke of his cock. “What about this?” Ben shifted first one of your legs and then the other to his shoulders, encouraging you to bend them at the knee. His hands moved to your sides, fingertips digging into your back as he pressed you even closer. The effect was that you felt as if you were almost folded in half but it wasn’t too uncomfortable. There was an almost weightless feeling to it and any slight awkwardness you felt with your chest meeting your thighs was a small price to pay for just how good Ben felt once again moving inside you. You tightened your fingers against the benchtop, wishing there was something you could grab onto as your whole body rocked with each of his thrusts, the position allowing him to penetrate you deeply, continuously brushing against a number of spots that sent electric spikes of pleasure through you. “Fuck,” was about all you could think to say. “That a good fuck?” Ben questioned, voice gruff with his exertions. “Yeah, yes, fuck, so good,” “So you like when I do this?” You let out a soft moan as he roughly fucked into you again, timing it just right. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he half laughed, turning his head to kiss your leg before leaning forward to catch your lips again. After that there wasn’t much room for talking. Ben, having assured himself that you were happy, speeded up his rhythm, clutching you tightly to keep your legs from slipping off his shoulders. His breathing became rougher, matching your own, as he drove into you, though he still kissed you as much as he could, panting against your lips, swallowing your moans and pushing whatever air he had into your lungs.

You could feel your orgasm bubbling up, like a pot of water on the verge of boiling, but knew Ben would reach his first, recognising his expression as the one he wore when he was trying to hold back from the edge. “Fu-ck you’re s-so tight,” he grunted, squeezing his eyes shut as he leaned his forehead against yours, “gonna have to pull out soon,” You could feel him pulling away and tightened your calves on either side of his neck in an effort to stop him, needing just a little more to reach your own release. “Not helping,” he groaned, suddenly unable to hold off any longer, “Shit. Y/N.” You whined as he stilled to shoot his release over your walls. “Jesus,” he said a little breathlessly, as he pulled out, your underwear slipping back over you, and rubbed his neck absentmindedly, “Didn’t expect that to finish me off. Did you…?” You shook your head, letting your leg slip to be caught in the crook of Ben’s arm. “Well let’s fix that, shall we,” he said, already letting you go to bend forward, his face right between your thighs. You felt a puff of his hot breath against you as he hooked his index finger into the crotch of your knickers, pulling it aside, and then his tongue was on you, lapping up your arousal and coming to rest against your clit. He set up camp there, focusing all his attention on the small nub. You let yourself drop back so you were holding yourself up on one elbow, your other hand on the back of Ben’s head, tugging on his hair as he drew a series of moans from you. With a particularly firm suck, you felt your cunt pulse and something warm and wet ran from you, dripping over the edge of the bench onto the cupboard door. You had an idea what it was so it surprised you when Ben released your clit to lick between your lips, catching it with his tongue and spreading it along your slit. “We taste good together,” he mumbled, going in to trace the same path over again, greedily licking up the mixture. You swore under your breath, feeling yourself right on the edge of your orgasm, unspeakably turned on by Ben lapping up the load he’d just left in you. Sensing how close you were he dragged his tongue over your clit again, quickly sliding two fingers into you to help you along. You whined his name as he pushed you over the edge, continuing to pump his fingers into you as he again sucked at your clit, not stopping until he was sure it had worked. “Thank you,” you said as he straightened up again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re such a dork,” he laughed as he kissed you again, tracing his tongue over yours. The man clearly wanted you lightheaded from lack of air. “Shut up,” you pushed yourself to sit up straight again, expecting Ben to step away and let you hop down from the bench. He didn’t though, instead absentmindedly toying with the leg of your underwear as his gaze fell to your lips. “Seriously?” Ben shrugged, “Eating you out made me hard again. And,” he quickly ran his fingers along the edge of the bench, collecting some of the mess you’d left there, “I think it’s only fair you should taste us too,” If he’s said it less earnestly you might have batted his hand away and laughed off the suggestion but something about his tone made you grab his wrist to pull his fingers towards your mouth. He hadn’t been wrong, the mix of you both did taste pretty good, though you’d already got a hint of it as he’d kissed you. “Good girl,” he breathed out, eyes heavy with lust, “think you’re up for more?” “Can we move elsewhere? The edge of the counter is digging into me.” “Okay,” Ben began tugging your underwear down and kicked off his own before pulling your shirt over your head, making you laugh. He Helped you stand and then immediately pushed you to the floor. For a moment you thought he was suggesting you give him a blowjob and were about to question him but half a second later he was following you down, laying down and pulling you on top. “I meant like the bed or the couch at least,” you said somewhere between incredulity and amusement. “Too far,” he grunted, bucking his hips to encourage you to mount him properly, “need you now.” You rolled your eyes as you sank down onto his dick, “Do I actually get to cum this time or…?” “Only if you move,” Ben growled as he grasped your hips and pulled you down onto him, making you cry out at the unexpectedly sudden sensation of being filled. He let you ride him for a bit, alternating between squeezing your thigh as he rubbed his thumb over your clit and cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples as he encouraged you to fuck yourself on his cock faster. You kept to the same steady pace though, intending to drag it out a little, make him wait. But it wasn’t long before he got fed up with the deliberately slow pace you’d cultivated. Without warning you found yourself on your back, Ben grasping your thighs as he kneeled over you, pulling your hips up a little so he could fuck you the way he wanted. Your voice shook as you moaned and writhed in his shadow, your own fingers dancing over your clit to keep building your orgasm. “Isn’t that better?” he said roughly, laughing a little as you nodded your agreement, “Making me wish I had cancelled our plans. Could stay in your pussy all day.” You whimpered and rubbed your clit harder. “C’mon Pumpkin, so close aren’t ya,” You squeezed your eyes shut, moaning when you finally tipped over the edge. But that didn’t stop Ben. He waited until your orgasm had subsided and then pushed your legs wide and up into the air so he could lay directly on top of you as he continued to pound you. Your voice shook as a moan was pulled from your throat and you squirmed beneath him, feeling yourself once again being drawn towards release. There was something about his weight pressing down on you, his breath against your ear. Something about how close he seemed, almost panting as his hips stuttered in and out of the rhythm he was desperately trying to hold on to. He mouthed at your neck as you tilted your head to accommodate him, reaching a hand down to squeeze his arse cheek. You were sore from every other way he’d fucked you, tired from the two orgasms he’d already wrung from you, and yet the thought of stopping him, of ending the incredible pleasure you felt at his hands, was the furthest thing from your mind. A scream caught in your throat as he seemed to press you even harder into the floor, your legs shaking in the air as he grit his teeth and grunted with each harsh drive into you. And then he came, gasping against your throat as he felt you cum too, finally releasing the scream you’d been holding onto until the noise turned to breaths so ragged they felt like sobs.

Ben kissed your throat and then your jaw as he came back to earth, still laying on you. “How was that?” he asked softly when you’d remained quiet for a while. You drew in a deep breath, “Pum-Pumpkin?” “What?” “You called me fucking Pumpkin of all things, while trying to get me off?” “So?” “Jesus Ben,” you half-heartedly swatted at his side, “you’re lucky I was so close that it didn’t matter otherwise I might have laughed and completely lost the orgasm.”   Ben joined in your laughter, the sensation of his shaking body on top of yours slightly odd but mostly quite comforting. Until he shifted his hips without thinking and made you wince. “Sorry,” he said, pressing his lips to yours again as if to kiss away the discomfort before he gingerly pulled out of you and sat back on his knees, “But you did cum that time, right?” “I think you know I did,” you sighed, already able to see what was coming, as you let your legs drop to the floor. “So wait, how many times exactly?” You sighed and shook your head slightly. “Because if my maths is right, I think we got you to three times. Once on the bench and twice on the floor. One plus two is three, yes?” “Yes that’s how basic addition works Ben,”  “And who was it again that got you to three orgasms? Was it,” he pointed a finger as his one chest, “Moi?” “Alright asshole, you’re very impressive and a somewhat decent shag,” “I think you could be a little more grateful considering that performance. Might have been my best ever moves,” You pushed Ben in the middle of the chest, exaggeratedly rolling your eyes but, truthfully you were inclined to agree that it had been his best performance yet, at least in your experience. “Here let me help you,” he chuckled as you tried to stand, almost falling over as your legs shook. Quickly, Ben pushed himself to his feet and then offered you a hand up too, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you steady. “Thanks,” “I hope I haven’t made it too hard for you to walk. Wouldn’t want to throw off your bowling cos you were fucked so right.” “Jesus Christ,” you couldn’t help but laugh.

The rest of the time you had before you had to leave was spent tidying up the kitchen, cleaning up the evidence of the mornings activities in case your roommate got home before you, washing up and getting ready to go. Which is really when things started to go downhill. If you’d realised you might have told yourself to stay home, come up with a quick excuse to get out of it and just played video games with Ben for the rest of the day or something. But there was no way to know what was coming so you didn’t. You talked happily as you got into Ben’s car (which was already parked on the street), excited to see your friends and looking forward to the afternoon.

The double date itself was quite fun, although draining. There was always an element of playing pretend at these sorts of occasions. Not that you minded so much. It was either play up the romance of your relationship or have to explain what you were to everyone and a few hours of pretending Ben was your boyfriend was honestly much simpler. At least bowling was better than the cinema. The first time you’d gone on a double date to a movie you’d sat down beside Ben, the popcorn you were sharing balanced on the arm rest between you. Martin and Jill had raised their armrest and were virtually sitting on top of each other, hands entwined. Which would have been fine except Martin had leaned over and said, “you know these things move” and looked expectantly at you. Ben and you had shared a glance and then tried to say you were both fine with the space but they’d given you matching looks that said they thought you were being weird or prudish or judging their willingness to cuddle in public. So you’d relented and shifted the armrest so you could spend the next two hours sitting with Ben’s arm around your shoulders, both of you more tense about the situation than you ever would have been if you’d just been allowed to sit in your seats like normal. Things had improved a bit since then. Ben had told you that one night when you’d gone out to a bar together, Martin had pulled him aside as asked why he never kissed you properly. Ben had shrugged and said he didn’t like PDAs, that he didn’t want photos to spread or anything like that, especially since it was still so new, and Martin had accepted it. They began to see that your ways of being affectionate were quieter, stealing sips from each other’s drinks, a warm hand against a knee, dumb nicknames that made you both laugh. Even if Jill did sometimes still try to convince you that there was nothing wrong with snogging in the middle of a busy street. Nonetheless you never felt fully able to relax when it was just the four of you. Always conscious of how they saw you, always worried that they’d decide you weren’t being affectionate enough and would tell everyone else you were going through a rough patch which would lead to more scrutiny. While at the same time worrying that one of them would start asking how serious it was between you and Ben, were you thinking about the future? Could you see yourselves moving in together? Was he the one? And it took a lot of energy to constantly be alert about what you were saying, always careful to not accidentally give away the secret truth of the situation. Bowling was fun though and less pressure than other double dates you’d been on. You could get away with not holding hands or sitting on Ben’s lap since everyone was standing up frequently and it didn’t make sense to be on top of one another. You could share small pecks on the lips or else tight hugs to celebrate strikes. And Ben made sure to tease you for missed pins, just like he always had, with a few added silly nicknames. He called you his sweet little hotdog after a particularly bad gutter shot which had made you laugh so hard you choked on your drink, and made Jill give him a disapproving glance. He’d smoothed it over by letting her overhear him saying he loved you, whispering the platonically just for you.

By the time Jill had been declared the winner of the game, you were ready to head home and spend a night forwarding Ben weird videos and dumb memes. Ready to be allowed to just exist without needing to be romantically linked to anyone. But it wasn’t quite to be. Martin made the suggestion that all of you should head to McDonalds for dinner and before you knew it you were standing in line, waiting for the kid at the cash register to serve you. You leaned your head on Ben’s shoulder as you stared at the menu, and vaguely wondered how someone working in a fast food joint could be so bright and bubbly. Right up until Ben nudged you and asked what you wanted. “Um, can I get a quarter pounder and a frozen coke, thanks.” “And?” Ben supplied. “And what?” “Y/N I know you want dessert, get dessert.” “And an Oreo McFlurry,” you smiled and bumped Ben’s shoulder with yours as he laughed and finished paying. “You guy’s make a cute couple,” the girl who’d served you said, eyes following the path of Ben’s gaze to you, still smiling. She seemed to realise what she’d said, her ears turning red, but Ben thanked her and added, “I think I have to agree,” as he squeezed your hip, before moving away so Jill and Martin could order. You’d smiled at her too but it wasn’t quite genuine.

It wasn’t that you weren’t used to it, people assuming you and Ben were in fact a couple. You were. One or two weeks after you’d first agreed to try out being queerplatonic partners, most of your friends had put two and two together and worked out that something was going on between you. Of course they didn’t know you were aromantic and they probably didn’t have any idea what a QPR was so they’d really added two and two and got five but you weren’t about to correct them. As you’d said to Ben, it was too much too soon to do that. Maybe if the QPR thing worked out long term, maybe then you could tell them. And besides, they weren’t exactly wrong anyway. They’d originally assumed you and Ben were just hooking up after Martin had dropped in to pick up something he’d left at Ben’s and had seen you spread out on Ben’s couch with sex hair and a rather large hickey on your neck and Ben’s sweater hanging off your shoulder. He’d asked Ben who’d just shrugged in response and said it wasn’t a big deal. You estimated it took about a minute and a half to reach everyone else. The next time you’d gone out as a group you’d felt them all watching you and Ben closely, trying to determine if Martin with bullshitting them all or not. They’d all decided it was just sex though. Until you were clearly still together a month later and they decided it had to be serious since Ben had never successfully fucked a girl for that long without catching feelings. That was when they started referring to you as boyfriend and girlfriend. That was also when the comments about how cute you were or how they’d always known you’d get together had first started. The first few times you’d heard it, it felt weird but you figured that was just because it was you and Ben and you were still working out how to be partners without the romance. You’d been in relationships before though and didn’t have any major objections to anything they said so you found it fairly easy to deal with and mostly you didn’t notice it anymore.

Except now it was bothering you. Something about the girl’s comment had rubbed you the wrong way. Which made you feel bad because she was just a kid with a shitty minimum wage job who didn’t know you from Adam. She had no idea. She was just trying to say something nice to a couple of strangers. You supposed your dislike of the comment probably had something to do with spending all afternoon putting on the romantic act for the benefit of your friends. Maybe even something about the sex from earlier. Probably just exhaustion from everything, a shorter fuse. It could even just be PMS though you’d have to check how far off your next period was to be sure. Whatever the reason it felt…not wrong exactly just off. You stayed quiet during most of the meal, aware you weren’t being great company and aware that Ben had realised something was wrong since he kept glancing at you when the other two weren’t looking. “Y/N,” Jill’s voice cut through your thoughts, “Still with us?” “Yeah,” you said, pulling a smile onto your face, “sorry, just a bit tired. Didn’t sleep well last night,” That statement was met by high pitched oohing noises and Martin jokily reprimanding Ben for keeping you up. You forced yourself to laugh with them, “Not like that you pervs. Ben was filming a night scene yesterday so didn’t actually get to mine until what,” you looked to Ben for confirmation, “One-thirty was it?” “Something like that. I don’t know I fell asleep almost as soon as I put my head down.” “Me, not so much,” you shrugged, “It’s all just catching up with me now.” They accepted that excuse without question and didn’t aim too many more comments in your direction, letting you finish your food without having to keep your mind on their conversation. And pretty soon you were hugging them goodbye and promising you’d organise the next date as Martin told Ben to get you home to bed before you fell asleep in your ice cream.

Ben waited until you were safely back inside your apartment before he asked if you were okay. “We were meant to get milk,” you sighed, trying to push away the annoyingly persistent discomfort. “I’ll go out later and get some. Or we can get Sophie to bring some back when she comes home. Are you okay though?” Unsure if this was a situation where you’d want space, Ben hovered at a respectful distance until you stepped in close and leaned your head against his chest. As soon as he knew you wanted him there he wrapped his arms tightly around you, “What’s wrong?” “Not sure. Think it all just got a bit much.” “How do you mean?” You shrugged as much as his embrace would allow and talked against his chest as you tried your best to explain how flat you felt, “I think the girl who served us was just like the straw that broke the camel’s back, y’know.” “Did me agreeing with her make things worse?” You shook your head, “Don’t think so. I knew you meant it in a different way to her. Besides, the other two were in earshot so there wasn’t much else you could say.” “You know that what everyone else thinks of us doesn’t change anything about what we have, right, or what we mean to each other. It doesn’t change who you are.” You didn’t mean to say it but the words had escaped before you could stop them, “Wouldn’t it be easier if it did though.” “But then you wouldn’t be you and I love you, platonically.” You smiled and nodded as you stepped back a little, though Ben’s arms wouldn’t let you go too far, “I know, thank you. And I’m fine, just having a bit of an off afternoon.” “Are you sure? Is there anything else I can do to help?” “No, you’ve been perfect.” You leaned up to give him a quick kiss, “And I know I’m being stupid about it. I knew what I was signing up for when I decided not to come out to them. Besides, being back home with you has definitely made me feel better already.” “Do you want a cuppa or anything?” “Nah, think I might just go lie down and read for bit. Decompress a little, y’know.” “Okay. Give me a shout if you want anything, yeah,” he pressed a kiss to your temple and give you an extra squeeze before he let you go.

Slowly you headed to your bedroom, kneeling down at your bookshelf and running your fingers along the spines until you found the one you wanted. That particular book had seen better days. It’s spine was cracked, the image on the cover peeling away from the cardboard underneath. More than one page had begun to fray around the edges like an ancient treasure map in a cartoon, with little triangles missing and the corners permanently creased where they’d been dog eared a hundred times. But as you settled into the bed, Ben’s pillow still smelling faintly of his hair pomade, you began to feel more yourself. Ben was right. What other people thought of your relationship didn’t matter. He was still your Ben, the same Ben who’s hoodie had been living in your cupboard for years now because he spent so much time at yours anyway it just made sense to keep a spare there. The same Ben who’d bought you your favourite pair of sunglasses when you’d left your old ones at home by accident. The same Ben who’d gradually been reading his way through your entire bookshelf rather than buying his own paperbacks. You had too much history there and too much love for each other for anyone else’s opinions to matter. And your partnership was good. It made you happy so it had to be good.

The time passed quickly as you read so when you looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and saw that a couple of hours had passed, you were a little taken aback. Ben poked his head round the corner and then stepped through the doorway when he saw you looked better. “Nice to see you smiling again,” he said softly as he crawled up beside you. Without thinking you lifted your arm so he could snuggle against you, his head on your chest. “What’re you reading?” “First Test by Tamora Pierce. First book in her Protector of the Small series.” “What’s it about?” “A girl training to become a knight. Gran bought it for me as a kid while we were on a holiday at the seaside.” Ben glanced at the worn pages, “Do you reread it a lot?” “Yeah a bit. The main character, Kel, is like the only aromantic character I know of so she’s kinda important to me.” “The main character’s aro?” “I mean, not explicitly. It was published in ’99 and the terminology to describe aro experiences didn’t really start being used until like the late 2000s and even then only in certain communities online. But Tamora Pierce did answer some questions on her website and said that as she was writing the series Kel became less and less interested in romance and sex so even though she didn’t have the words for it back then, she would consider Kel aro and probably ace too. And I mean, rereading them I definitely feel an aro sort of reaction to a lot of the romance stuff, even when Kel does start kissing boys and all that.” Ben leaned back to better see your face, “Will you read to me?” You leaned down to kiss him, unhurriedly, softly, letting your lips linger on his. “Is that a yes?” “That was a sorry I’ve been weird this evening kiss actually.” “Don’t worry about it,” he said simply, snuggling back down, his head once again resting on your chest and his arm thrown over your waist. You adjusted your grip on the book and began to read from where you’d left off, one hand running absentmindedly through his hair, both of you sighing softly as you relaxed into each other.

[angstyaches]

hi hi hi so i was reading your fic where felix and elliot are feeding on an animal again and there’s some Hot Vampire Kissing Tm and i was wondering... since it was kinda teensy a little bit (very) hot .... could we have some more vampy- fangy bloody kissing with them please? i know it isn’t emeto or whump related but i figured i could always ask and you can obviously say no if you don’t wanna write it. Thanks!🍄

I honestly can’t tell if this is hot or not but I hope it’s at least nice.

CW: vampire resisting blood, hunger, burps, kissing and more implied spiciness.

Early-Days Felix and Elliott 

Felix didn’t bother sitting down to meals lately. Meaning he didn’t sit down, and he didn’t have meals. Instead, he stood at the kitchen counter and consumed whatever quick snack he managed to rustle up, wanting to dull his sudden cravings before they could set in too deeply.

This is what he was doing at 6am, as the sun cut the white kitchen tiles into slices. He was having toast, because toast felt like a good morning food, and raspberry jam because the visual of something red and sticky entering his mouth was just appealing, it hit upon something in his brain that was begging to be hit upon, but as he chewed it, the illusion gave way, and the jam just tasted like jam.

“There you are.”

Felix looked across the countertop as he chewed, feeling a flicker of affection at the sight of Elliott wandering into the kitchen. His hair was loose and dishevelled, not in its usual ponytail or half-bun. He’d come downstairs in just his boxers and a pinstriped shirt that he hadn’t bothered to button up, clearly not expecting Nancy or Ryan to be up and about yet. And Felix just couldn’t help but gaze at how each inch of fabric sat on Elliott’s body, rustling against his skin with every movement he made.

“Are you alright?” Elliott asked, opening the fridge and carefully selecting a glass bottle from the shelf in the door. Felix swallowed and looked away, unable to bear the sight of the bottle or its contents.

“Yes, I’m okay.”

Elliott glanced over at him, eyeing the toast in his hand, before pouring himself a mugful of the bottle’s contents. It sloshed from glass container to ceramic, and Felix heard every.

Single.

Drop.

He swallowed again, though there was nothing in his mouth but saliva.

“You got hungry again?” Elliott asked, returning the bottle to the fridge door. His surprise was likely due to the fact that they’d both had a large dinner the night before, consisting of fish and chips and lemon cheesecake.

Felix turned his slice of toast over in his hand, feeling grateful for how it had sat nicely in his stomach so far, but also hating it for not being what he really needed. Hating it for its inability to stop the feeling of his teeth being wrenched from deep in his gums.

“Yeah,” he admitted. A half-lie. Dinner hadn’t truly sated him, so technically he was still hungry.

He could see that Elliott was biting the inside of his own lip, and he had a feeling he knew what was going to come next. Elliott’s fingers delicately laid the mug on the countertop, grip lingering on the rim as though poised to move it closer to Felix.

“Felix, I think you should consider –”

“No,” Felix whimpered, backing up.

Elliott’s eyes narrowed. “I wish you would consider drinking a little.”

Felix lifted his food to take a bite, mainly to obscure the shy grin that spread across his face at hearing the concern in Elliott’s voice. It had been two months since Felix had first entered the townhouse and become an official member of the Aldridge clan, and it had been six weeks and two days since he and Elliott had started sharing a bed and kissing and doing the things that often followed kissing. Six weeks in which Felix felt he should have gotten over these silly little moments of incoherent infatuation, and yet he felt as giddy and nervous around Elliott as ever.

Especially when the older man expressed worry over him.

“Please?” Elliott’s voice was low.

Felix placed the remainder of his toast on the plate and licked his lips. “I… I can’t. The idea of it is still rather… repulsive.” Heat shot out to the tips of his ears. “No, no offence…”

“No, I understand what you’re saying.” Elliott pursed his lips, eyes trained on the mug. “The psychological adjustments can be as challenging as the physical ones, if not more challenging.”

As much as Felix appreciated Elliott’s sympathy, it didn’t do much to ease his discomfort. Just because someone else had once felt similarly to how he was feeling now, it didn’t reassure him that he would one day move past it and live like a normal person. A normal vampire, he thought to himself, wondering if he was even allowed to call himself a person anymore.

“You know that it comes from a willing donor, right?” Elliott was referring to the mug’s contents, which Felix was trying hard not to gaze upon. “You’ll probably meet her soon, and hopefully that will ease some of your anxiety.”

Felix gave a heavy shrug. He hoped the same thing, but he also feared that putting a face to the blank, human-shaped blood dispenser in his mind would make the task of consuming all the more difficult. After all, he’d never had any desire to put a name and a face to the cow just before biting into a burger…

“I’m feeling a slight sting myself, and there’s no point in wasting good blood,” Elliott said, his voice becoming deeper and more distant as it did when he was about to feed. “Would it bother you if I drank this?”

Felix shook his head briskly, snatching up the last of his toast. There were three bites’ worth left, but he shoved it all into his mouth at once. The sound of Elliott’s lips sipping on the blood rang loudly through his skull, entering his ears like the incessant humming of a broken street lamp. His own chewing did little to drown it out.

The sipping turned into gulping, and Felix’s eyes widened at the way Elliott tilted his head back under the mug. His free hand gripped the edge of the countertop, as though he might fall over from the force of drinking. Felix’s ears continued to zone in on the sounds of drinking, consuming, guzzling, and he was sure he could hear the liquid being pulled into Elliott’s throat along with tiny pockets of air, the muscles inside his digestive system greedy and eager to get it down as quickly as possible.

Felix had never known it was possible to literally go slack-jawed while watching something, but right then, he couldn’t have closed his mouth if someone had offered to pay him.

“Mm,” Elliott mumbled, gasping softly as he put the mug down, empty, on the countertop again. Hs mouth was smeared in red, a single droplet drawing a line down his stubbled chin.

There was a low rumble in the older vampire’s chest, which Felix only heard because the thirst had heightened his senses, and then a long gurgle as his stomach struggled to settle such a large amount of blood; drinking from a container wasn’t the same as feeding from an animal, so Elliott should probably have drunk it more slowly.

Felix felt his own stomach rumble as though in response to Elliott's, but for the opposite reason; it was making far-too-quick work of the toast and lamenting the lack of what his body truly needed. He still couldn’t manage to close his mouth, despite the saliva gathering around his teeth and wetting his lips.

Elliott frowned and placed a hand on his belly – bare between the unclosed buttons of his shirt – and let out a short, tight belch. “Excuse me.”

“No.”

“No? You won’t excuse me?”

Felix shook his head. He couldn’t stop looking at the red stains on Elliott’s lips and the drip on his chin, which he hadn’t thought to lick or brush away yet. The sudden fullness must have been dulling his instincts; Felix could almost see the bliss in his yellow eyes as warmth flashed through them.

His fingers and lips trembled as he reached for Elliott’s face.

Elliott wore a blank expression as Felix’s thumb dragged up through his beard and over the dip in the corner of his mouth. The thumb came away red and glistening, and Elliott grinned, revealing fangs that were slightly distended from feeding.

“What?” Felix mumbled innocently, as his own thumb entered his mouth.

His lips and tongue began pulling at the liquid, relishing the metallic sweetness. His stomach tightened in anticipation while his head seemed to fill up with butterflies. As he slid his thumb from his mouth, he felt his own fangs reaching down, relieving a little of the pressure in his gums.

“I can’t put my finger on it, Felix,” Elliott whispered, leaning in a little closer, so that Felix could smell even more of the luscious liquid on his breath, “but somehow, you’ve never looked so gorgeous.”

In the end, Felix didn’t know who kissed who first, but what he did know was that Elliott tasted better than any ice cream or strawberry or tuna roll he’d ever eaten. A couple of times, he was worried that he’d sliced his own tongue on a fang – Elliott’s? His own? It was impossible to tell – but even that didn’t slow him down in his search for every last dreg that Elliott hadn’t managed to swallow.

Meanwhile, Elliott’s grip on Felix’s waist tightened, their hips eventually digging into one another’s, Elliott’s back being pressed up against the edge of the countertop. Eventually, their lips parted, thanks to Elliott pulling his head back.

Felix’s eyes fluttered open, lips still bobbing as though they didn’t understand that the kiss had ended. Elliott was pressing a hand to his mouth, frowning as he let out another belch.

“I’m so sorry,” he grumbled, as though annoyed by his own body. “I just drank and you’re pressing quite hard on my stomach...”

Felix tried to shimmy back a little, though he was swiftly drawn back in by Elliott’s arms. Elliott’s eyes scanned Felix’s face, another grin tugging at his mouth.

“What?” Felix asked breathlessly.

“You’ve got, uh… Sorry, that’s my fault.” Elliott lifted a thumb to the corner of Felix’s mouth, dragging it across his lip.

“Am I messy?” Felix’s voice was a little distorted from having his lip tugged at. He batted his eyelashes at the delicious look in Elliott’s eyes.

“You’re positively radiant.” Hands slid around Felix’s neck, cupping his head and drawing him in for one last chaste kiss. “Why don’t I get you a little something to drink, and then we can head back to bed for a bit?”

Felix caught a fingernail between his teeth as Elliott and his lips moved away from him, towards the fridge again. He could feel a full-on blush starting, surprised that his body found enough red blood cells to pull off such a feat.

“Okay, darling.” 

[buckleyy--diazz]

Good Morning - Shawn/Reader [NSFW]

Tonight I realised that since I deleted my side blogs I only reposted my Liam and Niall fic so here's some Shawn tonight. It was originally published on 'babyboyshawny' so some of you might have already read it. I hope you enjoy x

°•°•°•°

Your eyes fluttered open and you yawned loudly. You looked over to the window and even with the curtains shut you could see the gray morning light filtering around it. You knew it was early and when you extend your arm to look at the time on your phone it confirmed it was only 7 am. A long shiver ran down your spine and you snuggled closer to Shawn who was holding you firmly by the waist, his long fingers sleepily tracing circles on your skin under your sleep t-shirt. You yawned again and closed your eyes, hoping to fall back asleep for another hour at least. 

Shawn moved, tightening his grip on you before you felt his soft lips kissing you on your shoulder. He placed another on the crook of your neck and you shuddered. You opened your eyes again and turned your head to look at Shawn, his eyes were open and he was looking at you, a small smile on his lips. He looked so beautiful in the morning, he was always beautiful, but in the morning when his eyes were still sleepy, his hair a mess of curls on the top of his head, when he'd just woke up, that's when he was the most gorgeous for you. This was a side of him you get to keep to yourself, something he didn't share with the rest of the world. You were not jealous, you knew who he was way before you met him and when you started this relationship with him you also knew he would never be 100% yours, you would always have to share him with the rest of the world but this, this was only yours and you loved it. 

He dipped his head and placed a sweet and chaste kiss on your lips and you smiled back at him. His hand moved up from your hip to your side. His fingers tracing your ribs slowly, one by one until his hand reached your boobs. He took one in his large palm but did nothing, just holding it. You felt warmth spreading over your body, Shawn's hands always felt so good on you, even when he's doing nothing. He moved his hand again and his thumb caressed your nipple and a small whimper escaped your lips. Shawn rolled his hips at the same time and you could feel his half hard cock rub against your thigh. He kissed you again but this time you opened your mouth, caressing his tongue with yours. It was lazy and slow and perfect. Shawn broke the kiss and rolled on top of you, keeping most of his weight on his forearms to make sure he didn't crushed you. Your hands were on his back immediately, you loved feeling his back muscles under your fingers. You raked your nails gently on his skin and you felt him shiver under your touch. Your thighs were between his legs and he moaned a little when you moved your leg at the same time he rolled his hips again. Shawn kissed your jaw and your neck, his damp lips leaving trails of warm saliva against your skin. 

Shawn sucked a mark high on your neck and you knew you would have fun covering that later but right now you couldn't care less. Shawn moved his hands down and took the hem of your sleep t-shirt between his fingers, you moved your arms up and let him remove it slowly. He threw it on the floor, your eyes following the movement and when you looked up again you saw Shawn licking his lips and looking at your body up and down. You squirmed under him, your cheeks flushing red. Part of you loved feeling Shawn's eyes on you but another part couldn't stop thinking about your all your littles flaws, making you feel self conscious. You turned your head to the side to hide your face on your pillow but Shawn stop the movement with two fingers under your chin. He dipped his head and whispered against your ear, “fuck, you're gorgeous babe.” 

You brought your hand up to the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. His words were not magic, you still felt self conscious but hearing them still helped you feel better about yourself. You reminded yourself he chose to be with you despite all your little flaws when he could literally have anybody else in the world. You smiled against his lips, you loved him so much.

Your eyes shot open when his fingers played with the elastic band of your panties. 

“Shawn, we can't.”

“Why?” he pouted and really, this shouldn't be so endearing. 

“Your parents are sleeping in the guest bedroom right next to ours.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to stay quiet,” he replied before bending his head down and licking at your right nipple. You bit your lips and pulled gently on his curls. He looked up at you, a little smirk playing on his lips and you rolled your eyes. You let go of his hair and he went back at sucking your nipple, he moved to the left one, sucking on it loudly before licking it with the broad of his tongue, sighing when he replaced his tongue with his thumb. He pressed kisses between your breasts and down your stomach. Your back arched from the bed and you felt yourself getting wet. He pushed your legs open wide and kissed each of your thighs, sucking marks all over them. You moaned loudly and your hand flew to your face to cover your mouth when he kissed your pussy over the thin material of your underwear. You moaned again and you bit your lips when he rubbed your already aching clit over your panties with his thumb.

“Fuck babe, you’re so wet and I barely touched you.” 

You said nothing but pushed your hips up against his finger to get more friction. Finally he hooked a finger on the elastic and push your panties to the side, his warm breath hitting you pussy, making you squirm. You lifted your head and looked at his face inching closer to your core. He licked a broad stripe from your entrance to your aching clit and you bit the palm of your hand to keep quiet. He did it again a few times, lazily licking you before wrapping his plush lips around your clit and give it a harsh suck. He sucked for a few seconds before circling it with the tip of his tongue. Your hips were trashing against the bed and you were already feeling a familiar warmth spreading in your stomach. 

“Shawn please.”

“What do you need babe?” he asked, his lips moving against your pussy as he spoke.

“More. Need you to fuck me, please,” you pleaded. 

Shawn placed one last kiss against your clit before he moved and sat down on his heels and lifted your legs up to remove your panties, throwing them somewhere on the floor with your top. He kissed each of your ankles before putting your legs down on the bed before he moved from between your legs to remove his boxer. You watched is cock spring free and your legs opened wider, making Shawn chuckle. He climbed back into the bed and ran his hands up your legs. He gently caressed your lips, making your shiver, before he pushed two fingers between your wet folds and teased your entrance. Your back arched of the bed once more when he pushed them inside of you, slowly. His fingers were long and felt amazing, you loved when Shawn fingered you. He pumped them in and out lazily a few times, setting up a slow and almost agonizing pace.

“So fucking wet, I think you're ready for me,” Shawn said as he leaned in and kissed you.

He removed his fingers from you and wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking it slowly before he positioned himself between your legs and rubbed his cock on your pussy, coating it with your wetness. A whimper escaped your mouth when the head of his cock pushed against your sensitive clit. You couldn't take anymore, you needed Shawn to fuck you immediately.

“Shawn, now please,” you begged knowing Shawn loved it when you were desperate for his cock,

You sighed when he finally pushed his cock inside of you, stretching you and making you feel full. He waited until you clenched around him to pull back almost completely before pushing it forward again just as slowly. You threw your head back and lifted one of your legs up to put it around his waist. Your hands were clawing at his back as he rocked back and forth between your legs. It was slow and perfect but you needed more. You needed him to fuck you not to make love to you.

“Harder Shawn, harder,” you cried out. 

Shawn said nothing but he moved to his knees, not removing his cock from you and lifted both of your legs over his shoulders. He pulled back gently before slamming back causing you to let out a scream. His hands were holding onto your thighs and he started pounding relentlessly into you. His ragged breath and the sound of your sweaty skin slapping together was the hottest sound you had ever heard. 

When one of his hands trailed down your thigh and moved between your legs, his thumb finding your clit, you had to take a pillow to scream into it. You could feel your orgasm pooling inside your belly, familiar warmth spreading through your body and you wouldn't last for long. Your legs were shaking over Shawn's shoulders.

Shawn took the pillow away from you and put it back on the bed.

“I want to see your face, babe.”

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head and your hips were trying to meet every thrust, you were holding onto the pillow under your head and every thrust was wrenching a moan out of you. You were trying to keep your voice down as possible but it was getting difficult.

“Babe, Shawn fu-uck, I'm coming,” you said, your breath short as you came on Shawn's cock, your walls pulsating around it. He slowed down his hips but stayed inside of you a little bit longer. You tried to catch your breath and you whimpered at the loss when Shawn slipped out of you. He took his cock between his fingers and stroked  it quickly and it was not long before he came all over your stomach, groaning low in his throat. Shawn let himself fall half on you and he kissed you slowly. He closed his eyes and you closed yours for a second 

“Good morning, babe.”

“Good morning. I think we need to shower,” you said, feeling sticky and gross. 

You looked down at yourself and let out a little laugh, you definitely needed a shower. You waited a few minutes before moving from the bed to the en suite bathroom. 

The spray of hot water felt great and Shawn's hands on your scalp massaging it gently felt even better. He moved his hands to your shoulders, massaging them too and he kissed the back of your neck.

“We don't have time for a round two,” you warned him and he laughed against your skin.

“And I swear, if your parents heard us, I’m fleeing the country and you'll never see me again.”

“Don't be so dramatic babe,” Shawn laughed.

*

Once you were finally dressed ready for the day you walked into the kitchen. Shawn's parents were already sitting at the kitchen table, eating breakfast and even if they said nothing, and really you were grateful they said nothing, the look on their faces said enough. Shawn laughed when you hide your blushing face against his shoulder and he was lucky you were so in love with him because you would have followed through with your threat.

[secretobsessionstuff]

I know u probably want Mateo an Shawn stuff but I miss Dakota an i want him to get some love so could u write Dakota and Blair watching a movie eating snacks on the couch, halfway through Dakota falls asleep with his head rested on Blair’s She just lets him sleep but after a few minutes he starts kind if hiccuping in his sleep but Blair thinks its just that, hiccups, itll go away right? Nope an ominous gurgle deep in his belly emits right before the next hiccup sends puke all down Blair’s hair.

I’d love requests for literally any of my ocs so no worries! Thank you! 

Blair had been chosen by the gods of sleep. She had been given a task – a task only she could complete. It was of dire importance that she answers her calling, for no one else could accomplish what the heavens asked of her. It was imperative that she not move a muscle because Dakota had chosen her shoulder to nap on.

She felt honoured that he chose her for such a mission…she also felt a little sore because he was putting all his weight onto her shoulder. They were already halfway through the movie and Dakota had fallen asleep a few minutes after the opening credits. He was starting to get heavy and she really wanted to stretch her arm.

Regardless, she remained in her position, careful not to wake her boyfriend because he looked so cute. His hair hung in front of his face, so she moved a few strands behind his ear. Her blond hair was also down and draped across her chest. She liked looking at the contrast between her platinum locks and his dark chocolate ones. They swirled together like a Hershey hug, all warm and soft as they sat under the blankets.

It was late, and normally Blair would be passed out next to Dakota, with both of them keeping the other from falling, but she was on a sugar high. Wrappers from Christmas chocolates and empty cups of peppermint hot chocolate littered the coffee table. Even as she sat watching the sappy holiday movie, she was sucking on a candy cane. Blair wasn’t sure how Dakota had fallen asleep, given that he ate more sweets than her, but there he was, snoring like a train headed for the north pole. Perhaps his high had come and gone, and he was knee-deep in the inevitable crash that followed.

She sighed happily, mindlessly tracing patterns onto Dakota’s legs. Soon, her eyelids too began to shut. She rested her head against Dakota’s and allowed her consciousness to drift away. Just as the sound of the movie started turning to gibberish, she was quickly brought back to reality by a jolt. Her whole body jumped as Dakota hiccuped in his sleep. He was so nestled into her that when the spasm seized his chest, she came along for the ride.

Blair huffed and twisted her neck to look down Dakota. Surprisingly he was still asleep. His face was scrunched up into a tight ball that didn’t look too peaceful. His breathing had gotten shallow. Each laboured exhale blew a strand of hair away from his nose which barely had time to fall back down before a puff of air blew it back.

She continued to watch him sleep, as if he were a puppy chasing cars in his dreams. Just after Blair kissed his temple, his breath hitched in his chest as another hiccup disrupted his sleep. Dakota remained in his restless state but started to fidget. He wore a pained expression, momentarily making Blair wonder whether she should wake him. She decided against it because he really did look tired.

After a few moments of nothing eventful happened, Blair returned her attention to the tv. It didn’t last long though because Dakota hiccuped again, which was followed by a deep gurgle emanating from his belly. He whined in his sleep and grimaced.

Blair mirrored his expression, only because his stomach sounded rather upset. Dakota looked sweaty and uncomfortable, so Blair threw aside the blankets covering their bodies. She lifted up his shirt to rub his stomach and found his abdomen to be bloated and taut.

Blair sucked air through her teeth at the poor sight of her boyfriend suffering while he slept. She started to rub soothing circles across his warm belly. Beneath her palm, she could feel his stomach slosh around as it continued to gurgle and churn. She hoped that his stomach, as well as his hiccups, would settle down soon enough.

Once a couple of minutes had passed without any distressing sounds coming from Dakota, Blair started to relax. Everything was fine now. Nonetheless, she kept tracing light circles with her fingertips into Dakota’s tight skin.

In his sleep, Dakota shifted a bit, but kept his head resting on Blair’s shoulder. He nuzzled closer into her neck, and made a strange sound deep in his throat. It sounded like a mix between a burp and a groan. Blair was about to knead her fingers into his belly more aggressively, but a loud gurgle made her hesitate. She lifted her hand in apprehension. His belly churned and she heard food being sloshed around in his stomach.

Dakota moaned in his sleep just before a final hiccup shook his chest. This spasm got caught in his throat, and came out sounding like a wet burp. Blair frowned but didn’t think to move. Suddenly, Dakota burped, which sent up a gush of partly digested candy from his sick belly. He choked up the sticky sick, watching as it all went cascading down Blair’s shoulder. Her snow-white hair was quickly given a sick candy-coating as Dakota heaved up another mouthful of vomit.

Blair yelped and tried to break free from being pinned by her boyfriend. She moved aside, careful not swing her head too widely or else her hair would hit her face. She didn’t dare look down at the mess covering her left-side, but she could still smell it.

Blair breathed through her mouth while catching Dakota who was falling over. He was still emerging from his sleep, and he looked incredibly disoriented. With her hands holding both of his shoulders, Blair kept Dakota from face planting in the couch.

She helped him stay upright while a sludge of vomit fell passed his lips. “I’ve got you, Kota. Try to breathe.”

Dakota retched and spat sickly tendrils of saliva. He clutched his chest while his poor stomach purged itself of everything he had eaten that night. In between waves, he spoke with a thick voice as if his throat was glued with bile. “…Hurts hic…Ugh.”

Tears of exertion leaked from Dakota eyes, and Blair could do nothing but hold his hair away from his mouth. “I know, babe. Just get it all up.”

A deep belch rumbled up Dakota’s chest, sending up a massive wave of puke that splattered on the couch. “Oh God…” He spat away chunks of food while gagging emptily.

Dakota heaved up thick ropes of bile and saliva before finally getting a chance to catch his breath. He was breathing heavily and hugging his aching belly while Blair wiped the sweat off his forehead with her sleeve.

He exhaled deeply while shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I don���t know where that came from.”

“Your belly sounded really upset while you slept.” Blair helped him up so that he didn’t get vomit anywhere else. “How are you feeling now?”

“Sore, but empty.” Dakota gladly took Blair’s help and together they walked to the bathroom. He sat on the edge of the tub while Blair fussed about him. He inwardly cussed himself upon seeing the damage done to Blair’s shoulder. “God, look at your hair. I’m so sorry.”

She swatted his hand away. “Nothing a little shower can’t fix.” She kissed Dakota on the head and reached behind him to run the tap. “Now strip for me.”

“Yes, Master.”

As soon as the words left Dakota’s mouth, he could already feel a towel come flying towards him. Blair gave him a pity laugh for even attempting the joke. “Get in the shower, you goof.”

[leechfluff]

Transformation (2/2)

Part 1

Content Alert For - Stuffing (aftermath), transformation, body horror, vague hints to blood drinking, mild belly kink, hurt with comfort, very mild whump, gagging (no vomit), hints to a past abusive relationship.

Note- I plan on doing way more with these characters but this is the end part of their first story. Please feel free to send in asks for my OC's at anytime or to ask me anything! I'd love some ideas for drawing them.

Cardinal cursed at the lock, jiggling the key until it finally gave and let them cross into the dark room. It was messy, but not overly so. The desk (as usual) being the focal point, covered in its usual clutter of pens, paper and coffee cups.

They entered the kitchen, not bothering to hit any of the lights on the way through. The light was unnecessary, their vision worked better in the dark than in the light if they were to tell the truth. As they bent over to put the container of soup into the fridge, their stomach gave out an unhappy grumble.

"Oh hush." Cardinal mumbled in response, rubbing at the taught skin in an attempt to quiet it down and wishing they had thought to wear a hoodie rather than the snug T-Shirt. Really, they'd barely even fed. Just enough that they wouldn't have to worry about it. Still, their stomach stuck out unhappily and complained at any sudden movements. It would be an excuse to steal one of Grace's hoodies, something soft and warm.

The young vampire was brought out of their thoughts by a loud thud from Grace's bedroom. Followed by crashing and more thudding, like furniture being knocked over. Cardinal froze, listening up at the rapid heart beat pounding overhead.

It was louder than it should have been, faster too. The most concerning thing however was the sound of claws on wood. A fact that was especially upsetting considering Grace didn’t have any pets, especially nothing that large.

Cardinal crept up the stairs, not even breathing as the sound of breaking glass carried through the home. The door was closed tight, and no light shone from underneath. The scrabbling noise increased, it sounded like the claws were scraping drywall now.

In a single, fluid, movement Cardinal wrenched the door open before sliding in and slamming it behind them. Whatever they had been expecting, the large wolf escaping through the (now broken) window left them at somewhat of a loss for words. There was no sign of Grace, and the animal had clearly not been dragging her with it.

There was no evidence of a struggle, no blood on the sheets, and the air smelled strongly of Grace albeit sharper than Cardinal ever remembered it being. The dresser had been knocked over in the creature's (in her) attempts to escape. It was apparent nothing had entered or exited the room recently other than the concerned vampire.

The pieces fit together in an unfortunate manner, making Cardinal groan in dread. This… wasn't how they had ever wanted to introduce their girlfriend into this world but it was happening regardless. Time to minimize the damage, at least to Grace anyway. 

--------

The first thing Grace did when she woke up was groan.

Everything hurt. Her joints cracked and popped as she stirred and her muscles complained. Her head pounded in a way reminiscent of a hangover, but worse in it's own special way.

Potentially topping the migraine however, was the cramping pain coming from her stomach.

"Easy, I don't know exactly what you did but I reckon you feel pretty bad right now"

It was Cardinal, in a voice as smooth as honey. Soothing the headache to a degree. 

Grace struggled against the blanket laid over her, feverishly trying to get up.

"Hey, just lie down. Please, Grace. Just lie back down."

She did, that sticky-sweet voice drawing her in. The blanket was pulled back, leaving a sheet to cover her.

A sheet that was the only thing covering her naked body.

"I'm going to grab you some clothes and help you get them on, ok?"

The voice was less sticky now, more recognizable. Once again Grace felt acutely aware of the heavy, painful feeling in her stomach. A feeling accentuated by a prolonged groan.

Finally, her eyes fluttered open. Cardinal was holding a tshirt and shorts, an older outfit Grace usually wore when sleeping. Their hair was wild, sticking up all over and falling in their eyes. Their dark shirt was ripped and muddy and their pants were much the same way. It was a simple outfit that Grace didn't think she'd ever seen worn before on the petite figure. 

"Wha' happened to ya shirt?"

Grace didn't even register how bad her mouth tasted until she opened it. Coppery and foul, with a touch of something gone off.

That was the breaking point and she bolted upright despite her painful stomach and leaned off the bed as she retched.

And retched.

And try as she might nothing came up but strings of saliva for her efforts.

A cool hand rested on one shoulder and supported her until it ended.

"I'm sorry. God- just- just lean back. Oh God" 

Grace hadn't even realized she had her arms cradled around her stomach. What was typically fairly average and flat was stretched out painfully. Hard and round, it had expanded outwards a significant amount and with every threatening gurgle she felt as though she was going to vomit.

But it never happened.

The cool hands pulled her back until she was no longer hanging off the bed. Hands pulling her shirt over her head as she numbly complied by lifting her arms gently. The soft shirt was still baggy around her shoulders and chest but was just barely snug around the mysterious belly. Every movement of her midsection left her panting on the verge of gagging as she worked with her partner to get the shirt on.

Cardinal leaned her back onto the bed before lying beside her, on top of the sheets that covered Grace's bare legs. Her stomach let out a long gurgle in protest of the movement and a pale hand reached tentatively for it, pausing before gently rubbing it. The motion was painful as first, eliciting groans both from Grace and her tortured stomach. Soon however, the pressure seemed to lessen and Grace belched wetly. The taste almost brought on another retching fit, but the slight decrease in pressure and the relief it brought helped immensely.

"What…" Grace coughed, and held a hand to her swollen midsection.

"I…" Cardinal froze. Their voice was soft as they stammered, "What do you- um. You…" 

They took a deep breath.

"You might be a, uh…"

"Werewolf?" Grace croaked out.

Cardinal shifted their body weight suddenly.

"How did you even know to guess that?"

"Had an ex-boyfriend who bragged... well it was threats really but I thought he was full of shit. Not to say he wasn’t-" she burped again, less satisfying this time but it helped "Just not about that. I guess."

"How much do you know?"

"Not much." Grace admitted. "I thought he was trying to be funny, then I thought it was annoying when he threatened me with it. He called me last month all pissy and angry. I told myself that the nightmares I had that night were coincidental. That it didn’t mean anything, just my subconscious picking up on his claims."

Another burp, more relief and unbelievably her brain presented the idea of actually trying to go get something to eat. An idea that made Grace almost want to weep.

Instead, she curled up as Cardinal lay still and silent at her back. Soon she was asleep again.

-----

This time when Grace woke up she could move. She felt… good actually. Really good. Her stomach still had a small paunch to it but nothing like the painful, heavy lump she had woken up to. 

The smell of coconut curry soup wafted through the open door, and Grace was on the verge of drooling as she pulled on her shorts and hurried towards the kitchen. Trying hard not to run down the stairs and trip in her haste she stuck a head around the corner into the kitchen

Cardinal was standing there, with an amused expression. 

"Glad to know you feel a bit better."

Grace nodded as she grabbed the bowl of soup sitting on the counter, barely even bothering with the spoon. It didn't fully end the ravenous hunger, but gave her room to think with a clearer head. 

"Yeah, I do." She glanced around the kitchen hoping to spot some more but was out of luck. The rest of the soup must have been in the fridge still 

"God. This is insane. I don't think I've ever been so hungry in my goddamn life and considering this morning I really shouldn't be."

"I think it's just part of it darling. Best to eat when you're human, at least then you have more of a choice."

Grace stopped for a moment. Gears turning. If her stomach had been full, then she must have eaten something and if she were to go by the rancid taste in her mouth when she first woke up...

"What exactly did I eat last night?"

"Honestly? Not a fucking clue but your breath was rank and you certainly seemed to regret it. I had to carry you back. That is, after I chased you through the woods for several hours."

Grace groaned and leaned against the counter. 

"It's not over yet, is it? So will several days a month be trying to consume literally anything I can rationalize as food or is this an all the time thing?"

"You're asking the wrong person, I have no idea."

Grace eyed them suspiciously. Her rational side finally catching up despite the weirdness of it all. 

How did they know this? How did they know any of this?

"Got something you want to share?" Grace kept her tone controlled, looking Cardinal dead in the eye.

Their partners' body language shifted, from comfortable to mildy self-conscious. Like they were trying to shrink in on themself.

“What do you mean?

She poked Cardinal in the stomach, where the soft skin bulged beneath the hoodie stolen from her closet. It was obviously an attempt to be subtle, but it wasn't the first time they had been mysteriously bloated. Typically they just tried to pass it off as a food allergy or intolerance. Other times they both just ignored it.

"Between the belly and the nighttime disappearance act-"

"I'm not a werewolf. I'm something else. Think more along the bloodsucking side of the spectrum."

Grace recoiled before gently poking Cardinals firm stomach. 

"So… You're like a tick or a leech or something?"

"I think vampire is the politically correct term, but yes."

"So… you were going to tell me when?"

Cardinal grimaced.

"Probably not now and not like this. I just… I was worried about you."

"Hmm."

"Are you mad?"

Grace paused in the tactile exploration of her lover's distended stomach before grabbing them by the face and kissing them slowly.

Cardinal pulled away gently, lifting their head and looking them in the eye.

"We should make sure you actually eat enough today. I really don't want to have to chase you through the woods again."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I have a friend who’s a bit more in touch with this sort of stuff that I am. He said you should actually go ahead and cave to that growling stomach of yours. Supposedly it’ll make the change easier, and will hopefully keep you from trying to go hunting.”

"Hunting? What was I even hunting?"

"Judging by the smell, you didn't hunt anything. You found it."

Grace grimaced, not even wanting to know anymore.

She leaned into her partner, the ghost of the pain she had felt this morning when she woke up was still fresh and that gut had to be a little sore. It gurgled softly, as if in reaction to her thoughts.

"You ok?" She said, putting a hand gently on their stomach.

"Hmm?" Cardinal glanced down and laughed. "Oh yeah, this is mild really. I stopped short to come back early. I wanted to go ahead and check on you. Turned out that was a good idea, wouldn't have wanted you stumbling naked back to your house just to find the door locked."

Grace hummed in response, already casting her eyes around the kitchen for more food. 

It was going to be a long day.

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

Grace woke up suddenly, having fallen asleep on the couch with her small partner curled up next to her.

It was easy to realize what had woken her up.

"Holy hell."

At her exclamation Cardinal stirred.

"What's up?"

Grace didn't even answer, trying to stand up and immediately collapsing onto her knees as a wave of vertigo washed over her.

There was swearing from Cardinal, then the short vampire picked her up and set her down on the couch. 

"Your bedroom window is broken. We decided you should stay down here, remember?"

Grace shook her head, a clawing pain in her throat starting to bring her to tears. As if reading her mind Cardinal grabbed a water bottle, removed the top and steadied Grace's hands as she downed the whole thing. The pain didn't go away, but as she moved her joints started to crack and pop.

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

Cardinal watched helplessly, their enhanced hearing picking up every shift and squelch as Grace's body began to rearrange itself. The taller girl curled in on herself, shivering even as her temperature skyrocketed.

"I-it's going faster this time." 

Grace managed to force out the words as Cardinal helped her with her shirt. Despite the close relationship, the vampire still grabbed a light blanket and wrapped it around the werewolf. Covering her bare torso and hiding the disconcerting warping of tissue and bone beneath the skin. Then, they carefully massaged her back along the spine and shoulder blades and tried to ignore the feeling of bones moving under the skin every so often.

Caelum had said this would be rough, and not just for Grace either. As usual, the witch was right. However, Cardinal had more sympathy for the person actually going through the change than for the person who only had to listen.

And watch.

And feel.

Grace moaned feverishly, a sound that lengthened into a yell as her muscles clenched abruptly.

It cut off suddenly with a choking noise, and Cardinal instinctively backed away as the girl convulsed. When it got to be too much, they closed their eyes. Refusing to look at Grace’s body was forced into its other form.

Until the noises stopped, and something bumped their leg. They jerked their head up, obviously startling the large gray and copper wolf who jumped up and scrambled back like a scared dog.

Guilt tugged at Cardinal’s insides from the sight. Some half forgotten tidbit of information presented itself to her mind. Something about helping werewolves by saying their name.

Well, it was worth a shot. Right?

“Hey-” 

The wolf began snarling, and Cardinal swiftly realized the large animal had backed itself into a corner.

“Grace, it’s ok. You know me. I won’t hurt you, and you don’t have to worry about hurting me, ok?”

The animal still seemed wary, but it recognized the name.

“Grace, you there sweetheart?”

They suspected they knew the answer. The wolf was definitely intelligent, but something was clearly lost in the transformation. Leaving a wild animal with some version of human rationality. A fun concept considering Grace already had the incredible ability to get into heaps of trouble, even when not high off of adrenaline and moonlight.

The wolf stopped snarling, cocking her head before rushing Cardinal and knocking them to the ground.

Cardinal yelped hands going up in an instinctive attempt to protect their face as the wolf-

Started licking their face like an excited puppy.

The vampire laughed, gently rubbing their hands through the unbelievably thick fur while they tried to come up with ways to keep the energetic werewolf occupied and the damage to a minimum.

[dovechim]

shewolf (m)

➾ werewolf!jimin x reader

➾ 5.8k 

➾ a series of drabbles for the dark side of the moon

➾ warnings: dry humping, hella dirty talk, spit everywhere, unprotected sex, creampies, cumplay, vaginal plugs, mentions of cum eating. (very light) mentions of workplace sexual harassment. pregnancy. 

➾ this was supposed to be a short wolf dad jimin drabble, but i couldn’t stop myself D: please enjoy <3

Having a wolf husband is just like having a dog as a pet. You have to feed him, walk him and make sure he doesn’t vandalise your house property when he’s in one of his pissy alpha moods. Which is pretty often these days.

When you ask Taehyung or Jungkook about this, they can’t really seem to give you any answers that satisfy you. Taehyung says it’s part of Jimin’s personality and nothing to do with his alpha status (read: Jimin’s just being an annoying little punk). Jungkook says it’s because he hasn’t managed to knock you up yet and it’s doing a serious number on his pride. To which he waggles his eyebrows and offers his sperm up for the job anytime.

Honestly, Jungkook has a death wish, and one of these days it’ll be out of your power to protect him.

When Jimin mated you, you agreed to becoming his bitch only on a figurative level, but that’s something Jimin doesn’t seem to understand. He’s still struggling with the concept of letting you be your own person, and you’ve told him a million times that no, he doesn’t need to mark you every day before you go to work.

Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

Jimin languishes in bed watching you get dressed with your back turned to him, choosing a simple blouse and pants for today. You can literally feel his puppy eyes on your back, accompanied with a low whine in his chest that you shut down with a glare over your shoulder.

“It’s too fucking hot for turtlenecks today, I mean it,” you slip one arm into your shirt and the other follows.

“Then why are you wearing pants? Wear a skirt. That one,” Jimin points, and you look over to see what he wants. “It’s nice and short so you won’t be too hot.”

That stupid greasy smile on his face is only amplified when you pull out the one that he indicates; a pink lace pencil skirt that you bought on impulse months ago, severely underestimating its ability to ride up your thighs. Jimin likes to have his say in your wardrobe choices every day. It’s one of the things he takes the most pleasure in every morning, even specially wakes up to see you get dressed even though he doesn’t have to be up for hours yet.

Reluctantly you pull the skirt over your legs and zip it up at the waist. Jimin has his eyes on the curve of your hips and he looks almost hypnotised by them till you tug at the blankets to get his attention. “It’s too short, I’ll get carded by HR.”

HR seems to be the last thing Jimin is thinking of as he tosses aside the covers and scoots across the mattress, pinning you against the wardrobe in one smooth move. You can already feel his cock, hard against your stomach as he begins nosing at the curve of your neck, nudging your shirt open just a little so that he can lave his tongue over the tops of your breasts.

Jimin spreads your legs by wedging a thigh in between yours, causing your skirt to ride up all the way till your underwear is exposed. He ruts into your stomach as he pants into your neck, eyes begging and fingers stroking your sides tenderly.

It’s always a struggle for you to leave the house in the morning.

“Jimin… no, no marks,” you slide an arm around his neck to soothe his disappointment, fingers gliding along his earlobe; a particularly sensitive area for him. “We talked about this.”

“I can’t resist, fuck, you smell so good,” Jimin groans into your neck, cock rubbing against your inner thighs unabashedly. “Need to mark you. You’re mine. I can’t rest easy till your belly is full of my pups and everyone knows you’re mine.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, breasts heaving against his chest as you feel your panties get sticky. Pleased with your reaction, Jimin lets his lips trail across your chest, leaving a wet trail of his saliva as he coats the tops of your breasts with his spit, letting you get all messy and sticky for him. He takes a moment to admire how beautiful you look, chest heaving and all shiny with his spit.

“Let me, please,” he begs, eyes imploring as he strokes your collarbone gently. “Then I’ll have a peace of mind. When you’re at work, knowing that no one else can touch what’s mine.”

You struggle with yourself, wanting so desperately to give him what he seeks, but at the same time refusing to spend the entire day in a turtleneck just so you can cover up his marks. Jimin is growing increasingly impatient, fingers sliding up your inner thigh to test how wet you are for him.

“Baby please? Let me mark you. Then you can come on my cock like I know you want to.”

You pause for a moment, taking in the pure lust that clouds his eyes, and knowing that it’s taking an inordinate amount of self-control for Jimin to not sink his teeth into your supple flesh right now. It’s always a war between the man and beast inside him. But luckily he doesn’t have to face it alone, since on your part, you have a few tricks up your sleeve to outsmart the alpha in him.

“Jimin, cum in me instead,” you whisper against his ear, deliberately letting your breath ghost across the shell of his ear. “Make me keep your cum inside all day at work. Isn’t that better, baby? Then everyone can smell it. And they’ll know you fucked me so good and filled me with your cum. When I come back, you can check for yourself if I kept it all like a good little bitch. And fill me up with some more if I didn’t.”

Jimin groans, a low and deep sound that makes his chest rumble, and you know you have him right where you want him. The thought of making you leave with a part of him still inside you is too hard to resist, and it makes him forget about wanting to mark you almost immediately. He pushes your skirt out of the way impatiently, tugging your panties to the side and you help him by pulling his pajama pants down and letting his cock spring free.

With a few brushes of his fingers against your wet core, Jimin presses his tip to your entrance, sliding in with a few desperate thrusts. He grunts when he slips in easily, your pussy contracting around him as he pushes you hard against the wardrobe with his raw strength, all too consumed with the need to fill you with cum. Jimin bottoms out in your pussy and you have to hide your face in his neck to contain your gasp when you feel him hit your cervix over and over.

“This fucking pussy is mine,” he growls, strokes getting harder and harder as his balls slap against your ass. Soon, Jimin decides he’s unhappy with the angle and pushes your thighs apart more, fusses with your legs to make sure he can see exactly how his cock splits your cunt open. With an annoyed grunt, he slides his elbows under your knees and lifts you from the floor entirely, pinning you to the wardrobe with his body weight and using it to hammer into your cunt as hard as he can.

“Jimin, oh fuck, harder, pl-eease,” you cling on tight to his shoulders, feeling his muscles tense under your touch as he preens at your praise. You’re secretly grateful that he’s not in heat and can’t knot you today, or else you’ll have a hard time keeping his cum inside later at work.

“G-god, I’m going to cum,” Jimin announces with harsh pants against your neck, his thrusts getting sloppy now.

You can feel the way he throbs inside your pussy, reaching down to feel his balls twitch as they get ready to unload inside you. Jimin likes having his balls fondled just before he cums, and it always makes his loads thicker. “Give it to me, Jimin baby please. Want your cum so bad. Cum inside me, fill me up till I’m dripping.”

An earth shattering groan emanates from his throat as he throws his head back, hips hammering into yours so hard as he chases his orgasm, finally burying his cock deep inside as he spurts all over your walls. Your womb is alight with a comforting warmth as you feel his seed seep into your pussy, jets of semen erupting from his tip as Jimin continues to thrust in and out to push it in even deeper. The warmth of your creamy, soaked cunt makes him shudder in pleasure as he groans, fighting off overstimulation to make sure every drop is as deep in your cunt as it should be. Just feeling his cum inside you is enough to satiate you for the time being, and you stroke his shoulders, whispering praise into his ear that elicits a low rumble of satisfaction from Jimin.

“You feel so warm, Jimin. I love having your cum in my pussy. You always fill me up with so much. My alpha always has so much cum for me.”

You tap his shoulders for him to let your feet back down, and Jimin obliges slowly. His softening cock slips out of your pussy and you reach down to cup yourself quickly, pulling your panties back into place so that none of his cum escapes. Jimin glances down at your hands and gently nudges them away, cupping your covered core and smirking in satisfaction when he feels the wet warmth against his palm.

“I’m late, baby,” you whisper as you push him away, unzipping your skirt.

Jimin frowns. “What are you doing? I thought you were going to wear that skirt. For me.”

You hum low in your throat, as if deep in thought. “You know… I’m not sure it’s such a good idea. It’s so short, if I bend over just a little, anyone will be able to see my pussy. And you know how it is with your alphas. Just the slightest scent of a female and they’re out of control. Are you sure you want everyone to smell your cum on me? Wouldn’t it make them want to fuck me and replace it with their cum?”

Realisation dawns on Jimin and his eyes widen, now cleared of any lust, and he’s able to think clearly. Right. You make sense. You always make sense. Jimin breaks out in a sweat when he realises what a mistake he almost made. He nods furiously, almost ripping the skirt off your body and thrusting the pair of pants at you. “Wear this. From now on you’re wearing pants every single day.”

There is a secret smile on your face as you turn away to finish getting dressed. Living with a wolf husband is like playing chess. Always one step ahead of your opponent.

*

Carrying a load of cum inside you is a small price to pay for not having to wear a turtleneck. At least this way you won’t have to field any questions from your coworkers about how inappropriate your fashion sense is for the weather. You just have to be discreet when using the bathroom and about how much water you drink today.

Slouching at your desk, you wriggle around in your chair to get a comfortable position, already feeling your core muscles aching from holding all his cum in. It’s not the first time Jimin has sent you to work with like this. But the previous few times, you were disappointed to find that only a few drops of cum remained at the end of the day, although Jimin was more than delighted to use it as lubrication as he fucked another load into you. This time, however, you’re determined to do better and surprise him.

Which is why you sneaked to the bathroom the moment you got to work with your purse, pulling out a pink silicone plug you bought specially for the occasion. Leaning back on the toilet seat and trying not to lose too much cum in the process, you gently slid it between your drenched pussy lips, feeling the plug fight against the pressure of Jimin’s cum still inside you as you made sure it’s snug in position before pulling your panties up. Again, thank god you’re wearing pants today.

“______?” Someone calling your name makes you sit up straighter and you turn to address the voice.

It’s Hyujoo from HR, and there is someone with her today. A tall man dressed in a charcoal suit, dirty blonde hair slicked back, and tortoiseshell glasses perched high on his nose. He looks very clean and well put together, a smile on his plush lips as he extends a hand toward you.

“Good morning, _______. My name is Kim Namjoon, and it’s my first day here. I’m with Accounts.”

Your breath freezes in your chest as you stare at his outstretched hand. Namjoon’s gunmetal gray eyes bore into you, pinning you in place with his lethal smirk as he eyes you fron head to toe. There is a slight flare to his nostrils as his eyes linger at your hips, and an undercurrent of fear runs through your veins.

Hesitantly, you slide your hand into his, and Namjoon’s firm grip is anything but reassuring. “N-nice to meet you. Welcome.”

“Thank you, it’s so nice to be here,” his grin is full of teeth, reminding you of that day in the woods all over again as you cross your arms tightly across your chest. “Maybe we could have lunch together later? My treat.”

“Um, I-I’ll let you know,” you glance hesitantly at HyoJoo. “I might be busy, I’ll send you a memo.”

Dismissing the two of them with a shaky nod, you turn back to your computer and pull up a few excel sheets, pretending to scroll through them and type a few numbers in till you feel that they’re no longer behind you. Slumping in your chair, you close your eyes for a moment to gather your composure, hands immediately reaching for your phone to call Jimin.

But then you pause. You can’t tell Jimin about this. At least not now. There’s no telling what he’ll do if he finds out about this, and there’s no way you’re risking Jimin go feral again. There’s much more at stake here.

Shakily, you type out a short message to Jimin telling him you miss him. He sends one back almost immediately.

minniewolf: miss you too baby. panties doing okay?

You: soaked.

You’ll just have to find a way to deal with this problem yourself.

*

Despite your efforts to avoid Namjoon altogether by having a working lunch at your desk, constantly moving to various locations around the office so that he can’t catch you, Namjoon still manages to corner you during a moment where you let your guard down in the pantry.

“Busy day?” His voice startles you and you almost spill your tea onto the counter. Setting the cup down carefully, you turn to face him.

“Pretty busy, sorry about that,” you flash him an overly bright smile. “Did you need something? Settling in okay for your first day?”

Namjoon watches with keen eyes as you stir your tea. He takes a step closer and reaches past you for a teabag, bringing it to his nose and smelling deeply. But his eyes remain on your hips. “That smells so good… can you smell it too? Almost good enough to eat.”

Fear courses through your veins as you force yourself to stand your ground, taking a careful sip of your tea to buy some time. He’s obviously not talking about the tea here, but there’s no way you’re going to let him know that you’re intimidated.

“This tea? Oh yeah, it’s great, want me to make you a cup?” You smile sweetly at him and reach over to the rack above you for a spare cup. “It’s really good to wake you up in the mornings.”

“Sure, I’d love a cup,” Namjoon hums in reply as he takes another step closer to you. “Do you need help with that? Seems a little high.”

He reaches to help you grab the cup, his groin coming almost into contact with your ass before you deftly slide out from between him and the counter, leaving him grasping for air. You frown at him when he turns and offers you the cup.

“Mr Kim, I hate to assume, but please be reminded that this is a workplace environment. Please respect my personal boundaries, or else I’ll be forced to report you to HR. And it being your first day, I’d say it’s a shame to see you go so quickly.” You cross your arms over your chest as Namjoon eyes you broodily, remaining silent.

“Of course, my apologies if I came off as invasive,” Namjoon finally replies after a brief pause. He sets the cup back on the rack as he glances at the open door of the pantry, seemingly considering his choices before he decides that it’s far too risky to try anything, especially in a public space like this.

“Good. I’m glad we cleared that up. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work,” you turn around and walk out of the pantry, feeling a sense of power fuel your steps.

When you get home, you even let Jimin mark your inner thigh as he eats his cum from your pussy, an extra reward for yourself.

*

You manage to avoid Namjoon by simply avoiding your desk as much as you can, which also means applying to work from home for a week or two.  It simply wouldn’t do to let Jimin catch a whiff of his scent on your body. Living with a wolf husband also means being extra paranoid, and you’re tired of taking three showers the moment you arrive back home. On the other hand, Jimin is more than delighted to have you stay at home all day, for him it means easy access and a peace of mind when you’re in his line of sight all the time.

But it is also taking a toll on your productivity levels. Jimin wants to just eat you out from under the table as you work on your spreadsheets, taking his time and burying his nose into your cunt for hours. At this rate you barely even get half of your work done, not to mention the days where Jimin just gets so unsatiably horny that he demands you use him as a chair and sit on his cock while you work.

You can’t do this much longer. Soon, your manager will notice that you’re not performing, and that’s most definitely not fun.

The next morning, you wake early and dress for work, amidst Jimin’s confusion as he tries to sneak in a few more kisses and a tiny little handjob. You manage to appease him by letting him leave a tiny little mark on your collarbone, and you leave the alpha preening and entirely too satisfied with himself as he lounges in bed and watches you leave for work.

“______! We missed you, welcome back!” Hyojoo comes over with a cup of coffee that she sets on your desk, and you smile at her in thanks.

“Mmmm, vanilla latte, my favourite, thanks!” You give her a brief hug as you promise to catch up with her over lunch later.

After she leaves, you grab your cup and bring it to your nose, already tasting the bitter sweetness on your tongue even before you sip at it. You left in such a rush this morning that you didn’t have time to have breakfast, and your stomach is positively rumbling.

But the moment the fragrant vanilla hits your nose, the sweetness seems all too overpowering, and you feel a wave of nausea rise up from your throat, making you almost drop the cup onto the table as you fight to suppress it. Suddenly the sweet caffeine is all that you can smell, it pervades every single sense and you can’t stand to have it near you anymore.

Pushing your chair back, you rush to the restrooms with your hand over your mouth, trying to keep yourself from gagging and dry heaving. You burst into the first stall and fall onto your knees, barely remembering to lock the door as your elbows brace over the toilet seat. But you haven’t had anything to eat this morning, so nothing comes up except for that awful dry heave. You are dizzy and light headed as you sit back against the stall, hand pressed to your sweaty forehead.

Taking a few moments to gather your composure, you wait for the dizziness to pass before you push yourself to your feet shakily, taking a few test steps to make sure you can support your own weight before you unlock the door and walk to the basins. You look at yourself in the mirror, horrified at your reflection as you try to clean yourself up as best as you can. Dabbing a bit of lipstick onto your pale lips, you try to tuck your hair back behind your ear to compose yourself as much as possible before heading back to your desk.

You feel bad as you chuck HyoJoo’s vanilla latte into the trash, well away from your desk so that you can’t smell it anymore. Maybe you’re coming down with a stomach flu or something. Still, you should get something into your system, and you decide to see if there’s anything worth munching on in the pantry.

Voices coming from the pantry indicate that you’re not about to have the time of your life finding something to stuff your face with. Instead you have to settle for a few meagre packets of biscuits to satisfy your rumbling stomach, and contemplate with having to make small talk this early in the morning.

“Oh, hi ______!” Hoseok from Marketing grins at you, and his smile actually does make you feel better as you return his greeting. “We missed you! Lunch later? My treat. There’s this new Italian place, and it’s so good, they have these set lunches, and…”

Hoseok continues to ramble on about the pasta he had last week, and you can already feel your mood improving as his sunshine smile brightens up the entire room. Hyojoo beside him chimes in with a few comments about her ravioli, and the mention of food itself is making your stomach growl even louder.

Just then, Namjoon just so happens to stroll into the pantry, and you can feel your entire body tense up immediately.

“Good morning, what are you guys talking about?” He greets everyone with a pleasant smile, reaching for a cup and heading to the coffee machine.

“Oh, just a welcome back lunch for ______,” Hoseok says before you can stop him, and you wonder if you can wriggle your way out of it without seeming suspicious. “You wanna join us? The more the merrier, right ______?”

Shooting Hoseok a strained smile, you shrug. “Oh, don’t feel obliged to come, Mr Kim, I wouldn’t want you to feel put out or anything…”

Namjoon only laughs it off as he grabs his coffee. “Put out? Why would I? I was just feeling sorry that I couldn’t have lunch with you on my first day. Looks like that won’t be a problem now will it?”

HyoJoo gasps as if you’ve committed some heinous crime. “You two didn’t get to have lunch together? No way! Namjoon, you’ve eaten with every single person in the office except ______?”

“Yeah, unfortunately. She was working from home the day after I got here, so…” Namjoon lets his voice trail off as he glances at Hoseok and Hyojoo.

“You know what,” Hoseok perks up. “You and _____ should go ahead today. Our reunion can wait till tomorrow, right? It’s company policy, anyway, or more like HR policy. Wouldn’t want Namjoon here to feel left out, right?”

The way he words it makes it seem like a threat, but you know Hoseok is just trying to make everyone feel welcome. With HyoJoo agreeing enthusiastically, you are backed into a corner and forced to agree as Namjoon grins in response.

“Great then, I’ll see you at twelve!” He pats you on the shoulder before turning around to head back to work, and you’re left feeling sicker to your stomach than you were before.

*

You’re ravenous. So hungry that you might even settle for Jimin’s diet of raw bloody meat at this point. Although the thought itself reminds you that there is another werewolf sitting across from you at the table, and you might as well be his dinner. Maybe you can just scarf down your food and run. Sure, it might not be the most polite thing to do, but you can’t think of anything else that’ll save your ass.

“So… um, what’ll you have?” You smile politely at Namjoon after glancing through the menu. “I think I want the pesto. Hoseok said it was good.”

“Pesto? Great choice. I’m in the mood for meat though… I’ll have the steak. Rare please,” he adds to the waiter, and you swallow hard, shifting in your seat and thanking the fates that this place is crowded with lunchtime patrons.

Every single nerve in your body is screaming at you to run away. Being alone with a bloodthirsty alpha who already tried to claim you once is a terrible idea. And this time there isn’t Jimin who’ll pop out of nowhere to save you. You’re on your own. You may have been able to wrangle your way out of it by threatening him with HR the last time, but it definitely won’t work now.

“Namjoon… I just wanted to make something clear,” you start off with a shaky voice. Clearing your throat to try again, you clench your fists in your lap. “I’m with Jimin now. So if you’re going to try anything, I suggest you think again. Just because I’m human doesn’t mean I don’t know how to defend myself, and if you think that brute physical force will get you what you want all the time, you’re wrong.”

You take a deep breath, inwardly congratulating yourself for having the guts to say everything you’d planned to. Namjoon considers your words silently, playing with his napkin as he appraises you with those dark eyes across the table. The silence stretches on between the two of you, and his gaze is so intense that you feel as if he might actually leap across the table and pounce on you.

Finally, he lets out a sigh and leans back in his seat. Namjoon lowers his eyes to his lap, a sure sign of submission, which takes you by surprise. Jimin only does this when you really put your foot down and show him that you mean business, that you won’t allow the alpha side of him to push you around all the time because you and him are in an equal partnership. It took a while, but Jimin eventually learned.

“I was going to say this earlier, but looks like you beat me to it,” Namjoon chuckles as he meets your eye again. “Look, I wanted to apologise for what happened on my first day. I just had to make sure for myself that you were still unclaimed. But I smelled… him on you and my instincts got the better of me. I admit that I followed you and interviewed to get into this place in the hopes of getting closer to you. But now I know that you’re already taken… and…”

His eyes drop to your stomach.

“Congratulations, by the way,” he smiles, and this time it is a sincere one.

“Wh-what are you- I don’t-“ you fumble around for your words as you struggle to comprehend everything he’s just said, especially that knowing look towards your midriff.

“Werewolves aren’t evil,” Namjoon smiles sadly. “We can be… driven by our instincts sometimes, so much so that we forget to engage the human part of our brain. The higher faculties that steer our morals and form our values. My wolf wanted you, still wants you, will always want you. And do I? Sure, I want you too. But my superego tells me that it’s wrong.”

“I know you aren’t evil, Namjoon. I’m sorry if I seemed to demonise you or anything,” you sigh deeply. “Living with Jimin has made me realise that too. It’s always a battle between the human and the beast inside of you. And it’s not always easy. So thank you for fighting. For not letting your wolf win when it matters.”

Namjoon nods his appreciation. “When my wolf smelled that you were with child this morning… it’s like he just gave up. And it became a lot easier to let the rational part of myself take over.” He lets his eyes drop to your midriff once more. “Of course, you knew that already, didn’t you?”

“What? No, no it’s not possible, you must have been mistaken,” you shake your head with a laugh. “Jimin was wrong once before too. It’s just a weird stomach bug.”

Namjoon doesn’t seem convinced, but he nods politely anyway, changing the subject to something about work. But you are unable to focus on the conversation, thinking back to when your last period was supposed to come, and if you and Jimin had been having sex during your ovulation periods. Although it’s useless to even try, because you’ve been having sex with Jimin almost every day now.

On your way back to the office, you tell Namjoon that you need to run a few errands, and after smiling at you knowingly, he leaves you to your own devices. You stop by the pharmacy to grab a pregnancy test, filling your basket with three or four just for good measure, and lock yourself in the first bathroom you find.

Waiting is always the most torturous part. You tap your foot against the tiles of the bathroom as the minutes tick by, ignoring messages from Jimin asking if you remembered to eat yet. The alarm on your phone goes off after what feels like forever, and you scramble to check.

Two lines. On all four tests.

Your eyes are brimming with tears of joy, and you have to stop yourself from squealing and jumping around in the small stall. Instead, you wrap up all the tests and put them back in the bag, exiting the stall after sending a quick message to your manager telling her you’re taking the rest of the day off.

*

You are brimming with nerves and excitement when you reach home. Jimin usually leaves for his dance studio only at 3 in the afternoon after a short workout at home, so you catch him right at the door.

Jimin is drenched with sweat that soaks his white shirt and his grey sweats are hanging dangerously low off his hips. He looks surprised to see you as he wraps an arm around your waist, burying his nose in your hair as a hello. “What’re you doing home early, baby?”

“Missed you,” you press a kiss to his cheek, wiping a drop of sweat from his forehead. “Jimin, I have something to tell you, I-“

“Wait,” Jimin narrows his eyes as he sniffs into your skin, angling his nose towards your neck in order to get a better whiff. “Why do you- why do I smell- tell me this isn’t Kim fucking Namjoon.”

His eyes are dangerously dark when he pulls away, grip on your wrist tightening as he searches your entire body for any marks or injuries. Your heart nearly stops in your chest as you realise you didn’t have time to shower and get Namjoon’s scent off you today, and Jimin’s expression only clouds over as he begins to snarl, teeth elongating as the fury in his eyes comes alive.

“Jimin, it’s okay, I just… let me explain,” you will your voice to stay calm as you cup his cheeks to get him to focus on you. “Namjoon’s a new hire. But it’s okay. He knows his limits, he won’t try anything anymore. He’s not like he used to be, not like that night in the forest. We talked, and he-“

“You and him were alone together?” Jimin shakes his head to get loose of your grip, angrily pacing away from you in an effort to contain his rage. “Do you have any idea what could have happened? What if he- you should have called me!”

“For what? So that you’d go feral again? I’m not letting that happen, Jimin,” you take him by the shoulders and turn him towards you firmly. “I can take care of myself. I took care of myself, I’m fine now, and-“

But it’s useless. You can see that Jimin is at war with himself right now, your words falling on deaf ears as the alpha within him growls and rages, struggling to break free. The bloodlust turns his eyes a cold silver, and you’re losing him. He’s so consumed with the scent of Namjoon on your skin that he can’t even look past it and realise that you’re…

“Jimin, I’m pregnant,” you whisper against his cheek. “Can you hear me? I’m pregnant. And I’m yours. Only yours.”

Jimin’s hands are shaking as he grasps your waist tenderly, pulling you against him. His eyes are unsteady, breaths harsh against your skin as he fights against his alpha, and you slowly see the bloodlust bleed out of his eyes as you cradle his head against your chest.

“Preg-pregnant, fuck, you are,” Jimin finally whispers to himself, pressing his nose against your belly to scent the pups in your womb. He lets himself sink to his knees with his forehead against your belly, whispering words of praise as your thumbs play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Finally, we’re finally having pups.”

“We are, god we finally are,” a bubble of laughter escapes your lips as your knees give out, and Jimin pulls you onto his lap gently, arms closing in around you protectively as he gives into the instinct to lick at your collarbone. “I made Namjoon back off. You should be proud of your bitch. Maybe I can be your shewolf now.”

Jimin says nothing but tilts his head back and laughs, a melodious, floating laughter that encapsulates all of his joy at that moment. “You were always my shewolf, you heathen.”

[tom-hollands-eyelash]

Mistakes were made Pt. 3 (Peter Parker X reader)

A/n: this is my very first FanFiction! Please be kind 😅 and please feel free to give me feedback! I promise they’ll be more Peter and reader moments! Also drop and ask if you want to be added to my tag list!

Summary: it’s finally homecoming season! You should be happy for Peter and vise versa right? You both couldn’t be more wrong.

Warnings: cussing and assault

Word count: 1,865

Y/F/N: your first name

Y/L/N: your last name

Y/E/C: your eye color

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

_________________________________________________

It was finally lunch. You were so happy to finally get to see Peter and Ned again, you haven’t seen them since they walked you to gym. You continue to mentally kick yourself for not mentioning what happened with Tom, explained how it wasn’t what it looked like, that it was just a misunderstanding. Peter deserved an explanation, so did Ned. But what would you tell them? “Hey guys about earlier today, I broke down crying in Tom’s arms because he told me what Peter was to much of a pussy to.” No that’s to mean. And besides you knew Peter had good intentions for not telling you. But you needed to think of what to say to them, so you decide to talk to them tomorrow, that way you can calm down and figure out what happened yourself. You arrived at the table and took you usual spot across from Peter. As soon as you sat down, they stopped talking about whatever it was they were talking about and refused to look at you. That’s odd, but you decided not to pressure them.

“Hey Peter.” You said, reaching across the table and touching his forearm to get his attention. The tips of your fingers felt like they were burning with sensation just from touching his skin. He looks up with eye brow raised and your Y/E/C eyes meet his mahogany brown eyes, you feel your face heat up as your cheeks turn a rosy pink, a shy smile snuck it’s way into your face. “I was going to ask if you’re still coming over to help me with my math homework tonight.” You said slowly taking your hand away. Not breaking eye contact with you he lightly chuckled and took your hand in his.

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He said smiling, and you knew he wouldn’t miss it either. Peter would do anything for you if it meant you’d be happy. Hell, you’re pretty sure he’d even try to become Spider-Man for you.

You often imagined what it would be like if Peter was actually Spider-Man. How you would sit on the roof of the apartment complex waiting for him with a cup of tea and a blanket after a long day of crime fighting or how excited he’d get telling you about his day stopping robbers. And he would take you on a tour of the city at night so you’d see Queens from a new perspective.

You even imagined how your first kiss with Peter would go, you and him would get into an argument you guys often have about whether or not the Hulk would beat Thor in a fight. You’d always get frustrated by the fact he’d always bring up that Hulk had a massive amount of gamma radiation that should have killed him but didn’t. He’d get frustrated when you’d say “Thor is a Norse GOD, that controls thunder and has a hammer that no one else can wield unless they are deemed worthy. Hulk is a green baby with anger management issues that wears booty shorts. They’re is not really much competition there.” And you always just leave after that assuming you’ve won, but not this time. This time you’d feel something sticky on your hand, and you’d look down to see silver webbing. You’d look back to Peter as he pulls you back into his arms and kiss you.

You weren’t aware you and Peter were still holding hands until Ned interuppted your thoughts.

“Oh my god. You guys are so cute!” Ned said as he took pictures of you guys holding hand and looking deeply into each others eyes. Any stranger would’ve thought you two were together. You quickly pull you hand away from peter’s grasp blushing profusely. You look over to Peter who’s in the process of taking Ned’s phone and looking at the photos. You see him typing on the phone, no doubt deleting them, then shortly after hands the phone back to Ned. Your heart dropped you wished you could have seen those photos. Still slightly embarrassed from holding Peter’s hand you look down at your sandwich and start eating with shaky hands, you don’t look up until you hear Peter sigh.

“Did Liz get a new top?” Peter asked.

“No. You’ve seen that before, but never with that skirt.” Ned replies.

“We should probably stop staring before it gets creepy though.” Peter says with his head resting on the hand you were just holding.

“To late.” Their eyes snap back to you. “You guys are losers.” You snapped as you excuse yourself from the table to go to the library and look for a project to do for psychology. You muttered you “byes” and “see you laters”. You left the cafeteria but instead of going to the library like you told the boys, you were heading to your secret spot that nobody not even Peter or Ned knew about. Some where you can think straight or just bawl your eyes out and no one will judge or ask what’s wrong. Your heart hurt from knowing Peter won’t be anything more than one of your best friends.

You could feel tears start to form as you make your way into the roof of the school. Other than the hustle and bustle of New York down below it was always so quiet up here, and you loved it. You sat down on the ledge with one foot dangleing off the side. You started thinking of how Peter would look at Liz and get so enchanted by her and how much he loved her. All you wanted was Peter to look at you in the same way. You cried your eyes out until you heard the bell ring signaling the end of 5th lunch. “It’s going to be fine, you just get through one more class.” You thought to yourself.

~time skip~

You were about to walk from away your locker and head outside to wait for Peter by the flag pole when Flash stopped you. “I can’t get Peter to do your homework if that’s what you want.” You sighed.

“That’s not what I want at all.” He started. “No. I want to show you something in the boys locker room.” He whispered. You knew exactly what he wanted. You look down the hall to see if Peter was on his way, of course he wasn’t. You looked around for Tom, no fucking luck either. You were absolutely screwed. Flash then picked you up and threw you over his shoulder with ease. You kicked and screamed for literally ANYBODY to come to your rescue. But of course no one came, school ended an hour ago. Peter and Ned had an academic decathlon meeting on the other side of campus, so you were all alone with Flash heading toward the boys locker room. Tom told you this too, and Peter knew he wanted to do this. You wished for someone to walk by and help you. The two of you made it to the locker room and he laid you down on the bench between the lockers and straddled your waist. “Damn you look so fucking good laying down. So much better than I’ve imagined.” He said licking his lips as his hand grazed my outer thigh. He was looking at you as if he was undressing you with his eyes. “To bad Parker isn’t here to see this. The look on his face while he watched me fuck HIS bitch, would have been so fucking priceless.” He laughs as his hand finds its way under your skirt.

“Fuck you Flash.” You hissed and collected as much saliva you could in your mouth and launch it at him hitting him in his left eye.

“You bitch!” He cries wiping his eye with one hand and raising the other one. His hand met the right side of your face so hard it sounded like a clap of thunder and causing your head to reel sickeningly as it slams back into the bench beneath you, that was definitely going to leave a bruise. “You have no idea who you’re messing with Y/N.” His voice was dripping with poison when he said your name. He got off of your waist grabbed you by the shoulders pushing you against the lockers, making you look almost identical to Peter this morning. His hands found their way to the buttons of your shirt and yanked it open revealing your white laced push up bra. His eyes lowered and he licked his lips like you looked delicious. You could feel him getting hard against your leg. You tried to push him off of you but you failed miserably. Flash, being the quarterback, was at least 200 pounds bigger than you. He was still enjoying the view of your breasts when he found the zipper to your skirt and unzipped it. You tried to push your hips against the wall to prevent him from taking your skirt off which did work for a second but he quickly got annoyed and ripped the skirt in half revealing the matching white laced panties. He looked down and smirked. “Did you match for me princess?” He asked with a cocky smile on his face. Before you could answer he was against the wall covered with silver webbing.

“Didn’t your mother teach you how to respect women?” You heard someone ask. You look over to reveal a person in a skintight red and blue suit with a spider emblem on the chest. It was Spider-Man! You were so relieved, you could’ve cried. You were so thankful Spider-man came when he did.

“Are you alright?” He asked you nodded your head.

“I’m better now that you’re here. Thank you so much.” You said.

“You’re welcome. Miss-“ he asked holding out his hand.

“Y/L/N. Y/F/N Y/L/N.” You said taking his hand to shake it.

“Like James Bond. I like it.” He laughed taking his hand back. “Well Y/L/N. Y/F/N Y/L/N. We should find you some new clothes huh?” He shyly said placeing his hand on the back of his neck. You were so awestruck by Spider-Man coming to your rescue it wasn’t until he said something you had forgotten that you where in you nothing but your underwear. You quickly grab the openings of your shirt and wrapped them around your torso closing the shirt. You walked over to peter’s locker, knowing he had an extra pair a clothes in there incase of an emergency, and you put in his combo. “I’m going to see if theirs any one here still to take you home.” Spider-man said you changed into peter’s extra clothes. “Hey big guy come here real quick.” You hear before he comes back with Ned. “You can take of my new friend Y/N from here right?” He asked Ned.

“Yes of course Mr. Spider-man sir.” Ned said giving him a sad little salute as if he was Captain America. “But we’re still waiting for our friend Peter sir.” He continued.

“Okay. I’ll go find Peter. Wait at the flag pole for him .” He said running out of the room.

“Wait!” You cried, running after him.

Part 4

TAGS:

@morgannope

[slinkinginshadows]

Fractured Trust

I was talking to someone last night who shared this lovely story with me, and gave me permission to post it as long as they remained anonymous. It’s g/t with Y!Marik and Ryou, and it shippy. I only made minor grammar edits and finished up the story since it was left hanging. Thanks for letting me post this, and hope you guys like it!

Word count: 9k

Mariku yawned, sitting up and scratching his chest tiredly. He glanced around the room, sighing, as he pulled the covers off him and got up. The spiky haired Egyptian stretched out his arms, letting out another yawn, before swiftly exiting his door to go downstairs. 

Ryou was sleeping soundly on a soft cushion that was on the couch. He hadn't woken yet. Due to how tired he had been last night, it had given him a excuse to sleep in.

Mariku smiled upon spotting the sleeping Brit soundly on the pillow he had given him. Mariku sighed once more, smile softening, and strode over to the kitchen to make some breakfast. He decided on heating up some rice he’d had last night, quickly grabbing it from the fridge and placing it in the microwave for a few minutes. Soon after that was done, he got it back out again and tipped it into a bowl, grabbing a fork to eat it with. He sat down with a happy hum, scooping some of it onto his fork and shovelling it into his mouth. As Mariku was having a bit of his rice, he decided there wasn't enough butter or salt in it. He got up and began to search for his requirements. Meanwhile, the small Brit back on the couch began to wake up, his eyes fluttering open as he did. He yawned, sitting up, glancing around his surroundings slightly, with weary eyes. He rubbed them to help gain his vision back as he hopped off the couch, making the journey to the kitchen, and up to the table, glancing around the giant landscape.

He wondered where Mariku was, before suddenly spotting the bowl of rice on the table and running over to it, scrambling up on the ridge and peering inside. "I'm sure he won't mind if I take a little bit of his rice. Just a little bit." He muttered to himself, reaching in to grab a armful of rice. Mariku hummed, walking back to the table, which accidentally gave Ryou a jump, falling into the bowl. He sat back down, drizzling a bit of melted butter over the rice. And Ryou.

He couldn't seem to find much else to go with it, and decided he'd just have what he had, picking his fork back up and scooping up some rice- along with Ryou on to the fork- and lifting it up to his mouth.

Ryou blinked, looking around him, feeling quite disoriented from his clumsy tumble into the bowl. His eyes widened seeing a huge wide open mouth, about to engulf him. He tried to yelp, but it was no use, as he was stuffed inside Mariku's hungry mouth, along with the rice. Mariku sucked on it slightly, not noticing the extra object inside his mouth. He happily pushed his food to the back of his throat, bringing the bowl up and shovelling more and more of the rice inside. Ryou yelped as an avalanche of rice covered him, "M-M-Mariku-" he was muffled by more of the rice, that covered him, along with the sound of the tanned Egyptian's happy purrs as he continued to stuff his mouth. Ryou cringed, trying to scramble out of the rice, to try and get to Mariku's open mouth, but that didn't last long, and Mariku's lips and teeth closed. Sealing him inside. Ryou yelped, as he was pushed backwards, by Mariku's tongue, falling back into the rice, being pushed closer to the pulsing throat behind him, preparing to swallow.

In one way the small Brit was glad Mariku didn't bother to even chew, which was a little odd. But it was better than being grinded up, by those massive carnivorous teeth.

Mariku tilted his head up and swallowed, unknowingly gulping down Ryou in the process. He sighed contently, before tacking a few more scoops of rice, polishing off the bowl, though this time he actually chewed before swallowing again. He stood up, wiping the greasy butter from around his mouth, walking over and putting the bowl in the sink, noting to himself to wash up later.

Meanwhile, poor Ryou was having less than a pleasant time. He squealed and he was sucked deeper down Mariku's gullet, and soon landing in the contents of the once psychopath's stomach. He yelped again as he was lurched backwards, falling into a pool of saliva. He scrambled back to his feet, cringing in disgust at the sticky wet, coating saliva that was stuck to him. "Eewwwww! Gross! Mariku drool. Yuck!" He frowned, shaking it off. He knew Mariku didn't mean to eat him. It was his clumsiness that got him stuck in here. But he couldn't stay here forever. Mariku would most likely digest him at some point- and that was not an experience he wanted to go through at all. He felt his way around the dim, wet area, until he bumped into a fleshy wall. He frowned before thumping it as hard as he could, and yelling from the top of his lungs, "MARIKU!!!!" Meanwhile, outside, Mariku had happily grabbed an apple, heading into the lounge. He blinked, spotting Ryou was no longer there. He shrugged and sat down, about to take a bite from the apple he held, when he suddenly stopped, feeling a faint thumping from the inside of his belly.along with a shout.

"Huh?" He put the apple aside, glancing down at his midsection which was not exposed like his lighter half's. He wore a black tank top, which went down part way to his hips. He blinked, staring down at his stomach. His eyes widened in shock recognising the small voice.

"R-RYOU?!!" 

Ryou sighed, unable to start yapping angrily at him, hearing his sudden shock, and concern in his voice. "Y-yeah. Um. You… kinda ate me." He said. Mariku gasped, putting a hand just below his chest, where his stomach was.

"SHIT! Wha?! H-how'd I even?!" He stumbled over the words in a panic. Ryou blushed slightly, "I… accidentally fell into your rice. S-sorry." He said, a little shaky.

Mariku's eyes widened again, "You fell into my… rice?" Ryou frowned slightly, "Y-yeah."

Mariku frowned as well, "Shit. Did I accidentally scoop you up when I was stuffing a ton into my mouth? That would explain why you're luckily okay. You are alright, aren't you? I didn't bite you I hope." He said, with concern clear in his voice. Ryou smiled softly, "No. No, not really. You swallowed me in one gulp, and besides that it was awfully cramped in there with the rice. I suppose I was okay."

Mariku smiled, caressing his midsection with affection, rubbing Ryou softly from the outside. "Are you alright in there Ryou? I-I'm sorry this happened. I didn't mean to eat you up like that." He sighed.

Ryou sighed too, sitting down in the squishy ground, and began to rub the gently pulsing walls around him. "It's alright. But it may be wise to let me out soon. I don't exactly want to melt away with this rice." Mariku purred with immense pleasure, feeling Ryou giving him a belly rub at the same time. "Oh. Yeah, yeah, I'll let you out in a minute." He sighed contently.

Ryou rolled his eyes slightly, though he felt a sudden rise in temperature. He yelped, looking down at his feet- his shoes were begging to melt away. He dashed over to the rice pile to save himself. 

He was in danger here. There was nothing to back him up if he did get digested, and nothing to numb, or even protect him from the harmful acids that tried to eat away at his juicy body for its nutrients. "Ahhh! MARIKU HELP!" He screamed.

Mariku's eyes fluttered open again, he'd accidentally fallen half asleep. Causing his stomach acids to kick up. He blinked hearing Ryou's screams. "Shit," he cursed, sitting up, and clutching his stomach. "Ryou, I'm sorry. I can't actually let you out right now. But to save you I'll put on a soul pendant, hang in there!" he said, and jumped off the couch, running back to the kitchen and going straight for a cabinet he hadn't used in a long time. 

He swung open the doors of the cabinet, browsing through all the potions and his pendants. He snatched a random pendant from a hook, and put it around his neck, before he lost the chance to save Ryou in time. Meanwhile, the small white-haired Brit struggled to stay out of the menacing acids that threatened to engulf him. Ryou yelped slipping into it. He screamed as it burned and began melting his skin off like hot plastic. And meat that was cooked perfectly so the flesh would easily pull away from the bone. Mariku finally found what he was looking for, and quickly grabbed it, pouring the contents of it straight down his throat. "Aaahhh," he sighed. "That should do the trick.” He yawned, walking back to the couch, frowning slightly at feeling Ryou continue to struggle viciously inside him. "Settle down. I drank the potion, you'll be fine from here on out." He reassured Ryou, patting his abdomen. Ryou screamed again, his skin was slowly melting from his bones, though that screaming died down as he was splashed and almost drowned in some sort of liquid Mariku had drank. He coughed and sputtered, scrambling out of the stuff now that he wasn't immobilised by the pain, of his skin, muscle, and tissue literally melting to goo in the pool of acids.

He cringed bringing his hands to his face, watching the sickening action of his fingers turning into nothing but bone, where he soon found he could no longer operate that hand, due to the loss of feeling and tendons in his fingers to make them move. He frowned, closing his eyes as the rest of his body reduced to goo as well, rendering him utterly helpless.

The acids soon made quick work of him, and absorbed all his energy and nutrients into Mariku's body, though his soul was sucked into the pendant that hung from the sleeping Egyptian's neck, able to be revived after he'd woken up. Luckily for Ryou he was rendered unconscious inside the jewel, and it would feel like he hadn't waited a second once reformed.

_____

3 hours later, Mariku woke up again, with a satisfied yawn, followed by a small belch, of left over air inside his stomach. "Hmmgh?" He grumbled rubbing the back of his neck. He glanced down at the now glowing pendant, which was glowing a pure white light glow. He sighed contently, caressing the shining jewel, that hung from around his neck. "Oh, Ryou. Silly boy, you should be more careful around rice bowls, and mainly my food, else you might find yourself being mistaken for food."

He chuckled, the psychopathic glint coming to his eyes, which was rare these days. But it gave people a good reminder of what he can be like. He sighed, licking the small orb, in which contained the small Brit.

He remembered he'd shrunken Ryou down to this pathetic size, and lied to him that it was un-fixable. Of course he could easily return Ryou back to normal. He just didn't want to. He liked having the small boy as some kind of pet.

Though he showed genuine care, and kindness to him in most everyday situations. Though the time Ryou found himself being either swallowed for a little harmless fun, and spat out again, Mariku couldn't help but feel his primal ways come back to him, sometimes eating Ryou in cruel, uncaring ways. But it had been months and months since that happened, and he'd almost forgotten how much he enjoyed swallow him down, as a snack.

He was planning on swallowing Ryou again soon, though this time it'll be like the 'good' old times, where he would happily let the whit-haired Brit out after a little while. He grinned, licking his lips, just thinking about properly tasting his tenshi once again. He chuckled, loving the idea. But he shouldn't work himself up like that. He would have too much of an urge to swallow him up again, the second he revives him.

The last thing he wanted was Ryou to be afraid of him all over again. The times when he had cruelly and heartlessly picked him up, and ate him, whenever he was even remotely hungry, or moody. He at one point rendered Ryou so terrified of him that he'd hide for days on end, until he finally came out beginning for forgiveness, and maybe some food. 

He was sure forgiven, and fed, after he'd paid Mariku's stomach a visit, and if he was angry enough he'd let Ryou be half digested without any potions. There were times Mariku had thoughts of killing him for good, fusing his soul into his blood and bones.

But he seemed to always give in, and quickly drank a potion, to save his lil snack. There was even a time Mariku forced Ryou to call him master, and if he didn't, he would be punished. Which was almost every time a trip to his stomach, and again. 

If Mariku was mad enough at him, he would digest him painfully, or sometime just simply digesting him already douse in potion. Rethinking those events, he remembered how fun it was to feel so much more powerful than the tiny teen.

He grinned to himself, placing the jewel in between his teeth, sucking on it gently in a bored fashion. He smirked, poking the rest of it into his mouth, sucking on it greedily, and swallowing it into his throat. He chuckled, caressing the lump in his throat, as it was trying to be sucked down deeper, though came to a halt as it tugged from around his neck, reassuring it wasn't going anywhere deeper.

He sighed, pulling it off from around his neck, along with the jewel, pulling it out of his mouth. He stared at it with deep violet half-lidded eyes, wiping the saliva off it on his shirt.

Mariku groaned, slipping a pin out of his pocket, pricking his finger, causing a small pool of blood to bubble from the tiny wound. He put his finger, along with the tiny spot of blood, onto the jewel, which instantly glowed brighter, a largish ball of white enveloping the pendant. Soon the familiar tiny figure appeared on the table.

Ryou's eyes fluttered open, staring up at Mariku, a few unpleasant memories flooding back to him. Though he pushed them away, trying to forget those awful times. "M-Mariku.” A few coughs escaped him and he sputtered slightly, though his eyes widened seeing Mariku roll his eyes at him.

"What?" Mariku grumbled.  

The small Brit shivered, remembering this uncaring personality.

‘But it's been so long. He couldn't really suddenly switch back to his old cruel ways... can he?’ Ryou wondered to himself. "I-I-I need some food." He said weakly, Mariku sighed getting up, "Yeah. Yeah. Whatever." He scoffed, walking to the kitchen. Ryou frowned, something was off. But awfully familiar. Soon Mariku came back with a strawberry, he found the kindness and affection to cut it up for Ryou, putting it on the table for him. Ryou smiled softly, and began to eat. That day went the same. Though Mariku's 'normally' friendly mood, turned into more of a sour mood to Ryou. Mariku had to force himself not to look at Ryou in any hungry ways, or glares. He'd change those thoughts of Ryou a long. Long time ago. But now he was eager to do it again. So that day he tried to keep his distance from him. To prevent his urge to devour the boy. Luckily, he was able restrain those urges, as he got some much needed sleep.

________

Though, the next morning he was hungry. Too hungry to even think, as he strode into the lounge where Ryou was sleeping. He grinned, with a blank expression, staring down at Ryou, drool trickling down the side of his chin. He leaned down, peering at the pale-faced sleeping Brit before him. "Ohhh Ryouuuu~" He cooed. Ryou's eyes opened, and blinked seeing Mariku, just a few centimeters away from him. "Oh. Morning, Mariku." He yawned, sitting up, though jumped, as he saw Mariku scowling at him. "M-Mariku?" He mumbled, looking up at him, a little bit of fear lingering in his eyes. Ryou felt his heart drop, as a large menacing grin spread across Mariku's face as he reached out a hand, curling his fingers tightly around the his small fragile form. Ryou yelped, as Mariku roughly picked him up.

He screamed as the psycho licked his lips eagerly, soon opening his mouth wide, revealing sharp teeth, along with a huge pink tongue that shot out, capturing Ryou in a wet slobbery lick, which earned another scream. Mariku chuckled, licking his lips again. The small white-haired Brit shivered in fear as he reached up, pulling away his saliva soaked bangs that hung in his face

"A-ahh." He spluttered. Mariku stared at him, amusement dancing in his eyes. He brought Ryou up again, to toss him into his open mouth, when a sleazy nasty idea came to him. He smirked, lowering Ryou back down. Ryou tried to smile thinking Mariku was only harmlessly giving him a lick, or taste. Or better yet, trying to withhold himself, from devouring him. Though that small smile quickly faded, seeing Mariku's evil smirk, his sharp teeth glistening with saliva. Ryou shivered, "M-Mariku?" He stuttered again. The tanned grinning face, glared down at him with cruel eyes. "Oohhh, hoho. I have a better idea with you." His grin widened, "You see. I've groan rather bored of your oh so pathetic size. I think I might make this a little bit more... fun~" he chuckled darkly, earning a terrified quiver and a whimper from the Brit. Mariku grinned, plumbs of shadows engulfing Ryou in it's thick embrace. Once the shadows diminished, Ryou was left unharmed, though was quite larger than 'normal'. Ryou's eyes widened, seeing he was bigger. But not by much. The Brit yelped and he was grabbed by Mariku's strong hands, pinning him to the ground- earning yet another yelp, and cry, as he did so.

He licked his lips, a low grumble sound rumbling from his midsection. Ryou stared up in horror as Mariku parted his saliva slicked lips, and licked Ryou across his pale face, brushing his tongue over his mouth.

"U-uh-uh. Nhh-nhh." Ryou whimpered, weakly.

Mariku grinned, opening his mouth as wide as it would go, and pulled Ryou inside. Ryou's eyes widened and frantically began to struggle and kick, crying out with a muffled voice.

Mariku sat up, forcing Ryou to sit down, as he held him still. The psychopathic Egyptian licked Ryou's face repeatedly, tasting as he slowly devoured the small boy. He grabbed Ryou's arms, pinning them against his sides, pulling him into his hungry throat.

Ryou screamed, though from the outside it was only a muffled voice that came came from the large bulge in Mariku's neck. To Ryou's dread, Mariku's response was a happy, satisfied purr that hummed around his body, as he was proceeded to be pushed farther downward. His head and shoulders were entirely inside Mariku's throat.

Ryou squirmed, trying to pull himself out, but screamed as a booming loud, tight, rough -GULP- pulled, sucked, and dragged him deeper.

Mariku continued to lick Ryou's body, trying to slick every inch of him up to help with swallowing him. He maneuvered his hands down to Ryou's hips, lifting him up, pointing his feet towards the ceiling.

Ryou frantically kicked his legs, though that only caused him to slip deeper. "M-MARIKU!" He yelped as he momentarily stopped.

That, though, only earned a low angry growl, and another swallow, dragging him deeper within Mariku's body. He frowned, and decided another approach. One which he detested.

"M-m-master." He whimpered, which earned an instant change in mood and Mariku's growl turning into happy moans and purrs.

Ryou frowned, how he hated this. He was even more mad that Mariku could have returned him to normal anytime he wanted. How dare he hide that from him! Keep him small and pathetic, only to make him a tad bit bigger, only to be devoured in more unpleasant ways. His head soon entered an open space, which he knew was Mariku's stomach. His cage, in which the psycho loved to torture him.

Only Ryou's feet were poking out, and Mariku was preparing for the last swallow. Ryou yelped, as his face hit the squishy surface beneath him. He wriggled his arms from his sides, putting them in front of his face, trying to push up, and get in a less neck-cramping position. Suddenly a loud gulp from above, pushed him In farther. Ryou yelped, as he felt like his back was going to snap in half. He luckily managed to twist around so his back was facing the stomach walls, as the rest of his body slid down in with him.

Ryou cringed, tucking his legs to his chest, laying back into the fleshy walls, and constantly pulsing muscle around him. He was squashed even more, as he felt the area around him, jolt and slosh around, assuming Mariku had flopped down on the couch. Ryou frowned and re adjusted his body, to fit more comfortably. Ryou's eyes widened at feeling the 'room' around him rumble and tighten, as Mariku let out a sizable belch and thumped his chest to get more air out. Mariku sighed deeply, laying back into the couch. He couldn't help but smile contently, feeling his slightly larger meal squirm and kick him. He rubbed his stomach with affection, caressing Ryou inside, before grumbling with annoyance, realizing he won't be able to let Ryou back out now he was bigger. "Shit," he snarled and got up, making his way back to the cabinet.

Meanwhile, Ryou struggled within his tight confinement. This was worse than being a bite size snack. He was a literal meal for Mariku now. His eyes widened, feeling liquid rising up slightly. The same disgusting stuff that rendered him to nothing. It began to nip at his skin, and burn. But Ryou simply sat there. Helpless, no ways of escape. His only single hope was for Mariku to snap back to his scenes, and let him out. But his thoughts were interrupted by liquid suddenly coming down on him. He scowled as the burning and biting faded, but sure didn't stop.

He grumbled in disgust and slight hatred. Being fully digested again? So soon?! "D-D-Damn you! I can't believe you'd do this to me!" He began to break down, and cry. "I-I knew you didn't change. You never did!" He cried out in anguish.

Mariku furrowed his eyebrows, glancing down at his stomach. He opened his mouth to speak. But couldn't find any words, and shut it again.

Ryou squirmed, and struggled, attempting to make this as uncomfortable for that brute as possible. He furiously kicked and punched, but even though he got some sounds and grunts of discomfort, he got no reply. Did he regret what he'd done? Did he wish he didn't do it? Ryou didn't care at that point. If he was sorry, he should it least try and save him.

But he knew there was no saving him now. His body was too far gone to be repaired naturally. He had no other choice but to be destroyed, only to be re-made again. It felt so wrong, he hated it. He hated it even more now that he had more time to think. And watch his own body. Flesh and skin waste away, absorbed into Mariku's- that brute’s body. He no longer saw 'Mariku' as a friend at this point. All his memories of him, from months and months ago flooded back to him. Those cruel uncaring eyes, the smirk, grin and teeth. His foul scene of humour of him suffering. And most of all, all those good, nicer times with him and Mariku were crushed. Destroyed. Gone. Now he only saw Mariku as his keeper. Master. And destroyer. Not to mention his re-maker. He was a simple pet, toy. Something that Mariku used pleasure himself with.

But all this hateful thoughts soon faded, remembering where he was. He could no longer move again. His body was reduced to nothing, once again. He drew a shaky breath, closing his eyes. Once the acid reached his face, that was it. He particularly hated this part. The finishing move. Mariku always told him to sleep through it, and he'd wake up safe and sound. But he couldn't bear to. He didn't want to close his eyes and simply give up. Even though he could do nothing, he stayed awake to the very end. He had to close his eyes at this part- it was horrifying watching his vision slowly being eaten away by the darkness, with black splotches growing at a horrifyingly fast pace.

But soon it was over. Gone. Falling back into the cold abyss. Though... something felt different. Was he dead? Were his revival times expired? Or was he still melting away slowly in the brute’s stomach? Probably. But something was odd. He opened his eyes, It was pitch black, even though he had his eyes open. He couldn't feel the watery acids bubbling around his body. There was no feeling at all actually. Not a single sensation. Nothing.

He blinked a few times. Still nothing. Was this what death was like? Just… black? Ryou shivered. He was cold, yet had no feeling to tell him he was cold. Suddenly, his vision kicked in. He blinked rapidly, trying to figure out were he was. He couldn't look around, he could only see.

He stepped back, and looked around. He blinked, the whole room was black, besides the the only place he could see out of was a large window type thing. He peered out of it, trying to figure out where he was. Then it dawned on him. Was this the pendant that sucked his soul into? The thing that saved him from death? And his re-maker?

Ryou stepped closer, and touched the glass like structure, it was solid. But he noticed a rather large crack in it. "It's… broken?" Was this the reason he wasn't unconscious? Mariku must've put on a damaged pendant, and this one allowed him to move around. But that crack…. it's almost as if he could just.break it open even more. 

He tapped on it lightly, and the crystal like stuff crumbled at his fingertips. When he tapped it harder, it crumbled even more. He gave it a kick, and a loud cracking, sound echoed through the room. Ryou yelped as a blinding glow lit up the whole thing, and shot him out of the little pendant, back to his unfortunately tiny size.

He landed with a thump on the table, and quickly scrambled to his feet, brushing himself off. He then glanced up at Mariku, scared what his reaction might be. To his surprise, the brute was fast asleep, with his hands rested against his stomach that bulged from his shirt slightly.

Ryou cringed with absolute disgust. His original body was still inside his gut, still being digested. He'd always wondered if Mariku either watched and listened to him slowly melting away inside him. Guess not. It seemed he simply slept. But that didn't make it any better- i was still an awful thing to do. And he hated the fact the brute would just sit there, knowing full well that inside, he was simply melting away. Ryou bet he didn't know what it looked like. It was like a horror movie, full of blood, guts and gore. Ryou frowned, and hopped off the table, off to hide for 3 or 4 days. It depended on how long it would take to feel alright again…

____ It was about an hour before Mariku finally woke up. He yawned, and blinked a few times, with tired lazy eyes. He glanced down at the pendant around his neck, but his peace instantly shattered, seeing the object had no glow. Nothing was inside it. Mariku felt his heart drop, as he saw the pendant was damaged. Broken.

"R-Ryou?" He stuttered, staring at it in disbelief and horror. He ripped it from his neck, bringing it to his face, trying to see any sign of life. Soul. Ryou. He instantly felt nauseous, clutching his stomach. "S-s-shit!." He left the pendant on the table, running to the bathroom to begin throwing up in the toilet. He screamed as nothing but blood poured out of his mouth. His vomit was filled with blood. Still nothing. He swore his heart skipped a beat for a second.

For about another hour he continued to throw up, until there was nothing left in his stomach. His tanned complexion paled greatly, as he stumbled back into the lounge. He glanced at the broken pendant. "Fuck!" He hissed venomously at it, picking it up, and throwing it at the wall, causing it to shatter into millions of tiny, tiny pieces.

He glared at the the empty shell that contained the gem. He was about to stomp on the metal object, when he suddenly stopped the movement of his foot, and shoe, putting it back down as he gently bent over, and picked it up in his hands. Tears rolled down his face, causing his eye liner to smudge, but he didn't care, all he could about was Ryou. Ryou. He was gone. Dead, gone.

He shuddered, clutching his face as his tears seeped through his fingers. He’d messed up. Big time.

"Fuck. Bastard stupid fucking!- ARGH!" He growled, throwing the piece of metal away in a fiery anger. He clutched his head, unable to think, unable to believe this was happening. Wishing for it to be some stupid nightmare.

The rest of the day, all Mariku did was growl, roar and snarl in frustration. When he was quiet he was weeping to himself, and finally telling himself he shouldn't have done it. If if it wasn't for when he’d accidentally ate Ryou that day, he wouldn't have had those urges to eat him again. Or even if he didn't digest him, and instead let him out, he still could've put up with it, and shrugged it off as a silly accident, even if he did want to eat him again.

He could've just simply asked the small Brit. Ryou was a kind hearted person, which he’d taken advantage of. But he really had changed at some point, he wasn't tricking him. It was just… that moment the day before had switched him back to who he used to be. It took Mariku till 5:00 am to get to sleep, and he probably slept the whole day after that.

______

3 days passed, and Mariku had slightly.gotten over what he had thought he'd done. But truly, he hadn't gotten over it. He didn't cry in bed. That was the place he didn't do anything. Even on the first day, all he did was stare into space. Simply thinking to himself. Though eventually on the 3rd day, he stormed into the house, and straight to his room, where punched the wall constantly, and trashed a lot of his stuff. After 2 hours of raging, he finally stopped, and began to repeatedly bang his head on the wall. Ryou shakily and weakly peeked from his hiding spot. He'd hidden in the most obvious and easy spot. The spot Mariku never bothered to look. Well. If he ever tried to look. Which he thought was hopeless. Ryou frowned, going back under the bed. He sat down, crossing his legs and laying back behind a box that was laying under the bed. He sighed deeply, before he got a jump, hearing Mariku approach the bed. Did he hear his sigh?

Apparently not, since Mariku flopped onto the bed with his own shaky sigh of his own. Ryou looked up, at the springs of the bed, knowing Mariku was laying down above him. The Brit sighed quietly to himself, and went to go hide deeper under the bed, when he suddenly stopped as he heard something.

He hesitantly walked back to the edge of his cover, and wondered out slightly from the safety from the bed, looking up, seeing the spiky haired psycho, with his hands over his eyes.

Was he… was he crying? Ryou had never seen Mariku cry before. He wondered what was so bad that happened to him that would bring him to tears? Ryou frowned, seeing him continuing to cry into his hands, clenching his teeth as he did so. Ryou frowned into more of a sad expression. He felt concerned for Mariku. Even though he hated and feared him right now. He found the kindness in his heart to feel sorry for him.

Ryou sighed, he couldn't believe what he was about to do. But the 3 day mark was normally the time he would re-emerge. "M-Mariku?" He called hesitantly.

Mariku's eyes widened. He swore he just heard Ryou's sweet, kind sounding voice. But it couldn't be. He was gone.

Ryou got his voice back, as he noticed Mariku had gone silent. "Mariku..." He called again. Mariku blinked, before he wiped his tears away with his hand. He turned his head to where the voice had come from, and his eyes widened as he spotted the little white-haired boy on the floor. Ryou sank a little under Mariku's gaze, but there was a softer tone to his eyes. They didn't look cruel. In fact, they were quite the opposite. They were sad more than anything else, though a sudden glimmer sparkled in them. Ryou wasn't sure weather to back away or stay put.

Mariku stared down at him. How could this be? He. He thought he had.killed him. How was he here? That he didn't know, but after the past 3 days, he'd come to his senses again. Feeling more in control of himself, he leaned over slightly, and reached out a hand for Ryou. That earned a small yelp, and Ryou quickly backed away.

Mariku sighed. He wasn't reaching out to grab him. He put his hand out in front of Ryou, with it open in a sort of cupped shape, gesturing for the Brit to come back, if he trusted him. Which Mariku cringed mentally, thinking he must've shattered that fragile trust. The Brit stared, and stopped as he looked at Mariku's open hand. He hesitated, looking back at Mariku's face, to check his expression. It looked calm, and quiet. But he was afraid he was tricking him again. Imagining his hand as a Venus flytrap, he was the fly.

He looked around the room next. If this was a trap, and Mariku was messing with him again. to eat him again no less, at least Mariku never truly hurt him. Minus being digested, that is. He never physically attacked on him. Never tried to squash, crush, or step on him. If Mariku was planning to scoop him up again and gobble him up, at least he won't be truly dead. If Mariku was going to do this to him, he might as well try to get used to it. Maybe even try to like it.

With that Ryou stepped closer, and onto Mariku's palm. But didn't look up, he couldn't bare to see that calm expression twist into something horrid and cruel. Mariku's calm expression did change. But in the opposite of what Ryou was dreading. His face softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He gently curled his fingers around Ryou's small figure, in which Ryou panicked slightly, before taking a breathing and choosing to accept it. Mariku brought Ryou up to the mattress and tipped him out of his hand, onto the soft bedsheets. Nowhere near his mouth or face.

Ryou blinked. He had truly thought Mariku was going to eat him. But he didn't. He didn't even remotely gesture or make a movement of thinking about eating him. He sheepishly looked up, seeing Mariku's still calm expression.

Mariku opened his mouth to speak. But hesitated at his words. He sighed deeply, before trying again. "I-I-I'm so, so sorry. Ryou." He said in shaky pauses.

Ryou looked at him, "You're. You’re sorry?" He said.

Mariku blinked, "O-of cause I am! I-I thought I killed you. H-how are you here anyway? And back to that tiny size?" Mariku said. Ryou was about to speak, when Mariku began to speak again.

"W-when I threw up, all there was. Was blood! It took me a full on hour to empty my stomach. How? How? Ryou, t-the pendant was broken, it didn't glow or anything. I thought you were..." He trailed off, tearing up again.

Ryou's eyes widened hearing his story. All this time he thought he was dead? "Mariku! Calm down, please, hear my side. Okay. Yes. I suppose I was technically dead. Like every time you digest me. It's scary at first when you don't drink that stuff fast enough, and that's when I mostly find it most scary." Ryou sighed, "L-like. Normally this size, it's quite fast. And it's all over shortly after it starts." He said with a slight frown. Mariku watched him as he talked, and wiped his tears away again.

"When I was slightly larger, that was a different story. It took twice as long for it to just end. But if you're wondering, yes. It's absolutely terrifying in there, when I literally watch my skin and flesh peel and melt away, revealing my skeleton. It's horrible, but I'm… sickeningly used to it."

Mariku stared at him with wide eyes, before he abruptly smacked and hand over his mouth, feeling like he was going to throw up again. Ryou blinked, looking at him, but Mariku simply grabbed a pillow, and stuffed it over his face.

"Are.you alright Mariku? I-I saw you crying, before I actually made myself known." He said, but got no response. Ryou sighed, and scrambled his way onto Mariku's waist. Mariku didn't move, continuing to sob into his pillow. Ryou yawned. It'd been really hard to to get much sleep while he was under the bed. He’d been terrified to come out, and stayed patiently in that same small area. The both of them soon fell asleep. And the rest of that week turned back to normal, though there were awkward moments here and there. But... mostly it had gone smoothly. Mariku no longer gave Ryou any hungry stares, or glares, nothing like that.

And there was certainly no more accidents with food. Though there was one occasion Ryou slipped into Mariku's food again, and there was a close encounter with Mariku's mouth again, but this time he spotted Ryou in time, and in which afterwards he decided he wasn't hungry anymore. Which Ryou was extremely happy about, that Mariku actually bothered to check what was on his spoon before he ate it. After that day, the week went smoother than the last, but at the end of that week, Mariku came home in a nasty temper. There was a loud -BANG- noise as the front door swung open, as a very unhappy Egyptian stormed through the door, slamming it shut behind him, as he continued to stomp his way into the house.

Meanwhile Ryou was attempting to read a book that he had managed to push open and begin reading. He hummed happily, kicking his legs back and forth, as he read the page he was on before a door slammed.

"Ah?!" Ryou yelped as he heard the door, followed by loud, angry grumbles and snarls as Mariku stormed past, and straight to his room. Ryou blinked as he watched the angry figure stomp up the stairs. The Brit frowned with concern and sat up, hopping off the book on to the couch beneath him. He sighed deeply, thinking that it was enough reading for today. Besides, he didn't feel like reading now that he knew something was up with Mariku. He decided not to go after him the second he heard another loud slam of a door.

He'd have to ask him later. Ryou got up, and went over to Mariku's smartphone that he left on the charger. The small Brit liked to play a few games on it, today he decided to play flappy bird. He had to take his shoes and socks off and jump on the phone when Mariku wasn't looking, since he was worried Ryou would accidentally break it. Though Ryou did it nevertheless, despite Mariku's rule to not jump on it. About 20 to 30 minutes later, Ryou was still playing with Mariku's phone, but Mariku had came back out of his room in a slightly calmer mood. He sighed deeply as he strode downstairs to the lounge room, though frowned finding Ryou on his phone. "Get off that," he said, picking Ryou up off the screen.

"Ah!! Mariku, no! My high score!" The small white-haired teen wailed, wriggling in Mariku's grip.

Mariku snorted with annoyance, "I said don't jump on my phone like that, and I mean it, you'll break it at some point," He said, bringing Ryou up to his narrowed, dark violet eyes while scowling slightly.

Ryou giggled sheepishly, as he dangled in front of Mariku's face. "How else am I supposed to use your phone, Mariku? My fingers are the size of the tip of a needle. And it doesn't register my touch when I press it." Ryou said, trying to make a point. Mariku rolled his eyes, and huffed, "Then don't use my phone in general," he snapped, feeling quite irritated.

Ryou noticed this, and frowned, "What was wrong earlier? You seemed really mad." Ryou asked with a caring expression.

Mariku sighed, and sat down on the couch. "I don't wish to particularly talk about it." He said, glancing to the side. "O-oh. Is. Is it that bad?" Ryou said shyly.

The Egyptian sighed again, "No. No, it wasn't anything critical. But it sure got me mad. Damn Marik. The snarky bastard, he ticks me off," he growled. Ryou lowered his head, "I see." He pushed a white bang from his face. He understood that Mariku would sometimes get into fights with Marik. His light, his Hikari, his Omote.

"I really hate that guy." He cringed, "Me." A low growl rippled from his throat, though he took a deep breath afterwards, placing Ryou on his lap and breathing out again with a long sigh, trying to calm himself down. "I'm sorry Ryou. My mood is snappy right now. I'm just so worked up after that damn argument with Marik." He spat the word, with venomous hate, laced in his voice.

Ryou sighed solemnly, walking up on Mariku's lap. “Can you pick me up?" He asked while tugging gently on Mariku's shirt.

Mariku was snapped out of his angry thoughts as he heard Ryou's sweet voice and glanced down at him. "S-sure." He reached down, plucking Ryou up by the back of his stripy shirt and lifted him up to his face. He was about to speak, when suddenly he got an unexpected surprise as the white-haired teen quickly planted a kiss on the tip of his nose. Mariku blinked with surprise, a sudden flush of dark pink forming on his tanned face.

Ryou couldn't help but smile. "Do you feel a bit better?" He asked with his normal sweet tone. 

Mariku's expression softened, a small smile coming to his face, his blush darkening slightly.

"A little." He murmured. Ryou smiled, "That's good." Mariku sighed contently, and laid down on his back, propping his head up with a pillow as he settled Ryou down on his chest. There was a slight pause before he was taking another deep breath, and exhaling again.

Ryou felt Mariku's chest rise and fall as he sat there. He smiled softly, and laid down as well, when suddenly their peace was interrupted.

A low gurgling sound came from Mariku’s midsection. His calmness began to turn into nervousness. Ryou blinked, looking down, realising that must've been Mariku's stomach. "Are you hungry?" He asked. Mariku had a pillow over his face again, then nodded hesitantly, and pulled the pillow off his face slightly. "Actually, I haven't had anything for three days. I feel like I'm starving." He sighed shakily, before placing the pillow back over his head.

"Three days? Why haven't you been eating?" Ryou asked, concerned. Mariku groaned into the pillow, "I don't know. Stuff’s been happening, but today has been the worst of it. I don't think I have the energy or willpower to get up and make myself some food. I just... ughh. I don't know." He sighed in frustration, and began to chew on the pillow, not because he was hungry, but to relieve the stress.

The small Brit couldn't help but feel bad for him. He closed his eyes and sighed. Another low growl emitted from Mariku's stomach, during which he pushed the pillow harder into his face. Ryou looked down again, knowing underneath Mariku's black tank top, skin, flesh and muscle, was his stomach. He glanced back towards Mariku's face, well. What he could see underneath that pillow and all. "H-hey. Mariku," Ryou said, earning a large sigh from the upset Egyptian.

"What is it? Would you like to get off my chest?" He said dully.

"Actually, no." Ryou said, dragging the words out a bit.

Mariku peeked from under the pillow, eyebrows slightly raised. "Oh? Then what is it?" He asked. Ryou looked up at him, trying his best to keep a brave face, with that smile. "W-would you like to... eat me?" He said shyly.

Mariku blinked, not sure if her heard him correctly. "W-what?"

The Brit's pale face reddened, "I said. Would you like to eat me? But! I'm not offering because you're hungry, I'm... I'm offering to cheer you up." He said, beginning to twiddle his fingers slightly.

Mariku blinked again, even more surprised. He sat up slightly, looking at Ryou, no longer hiding his face under his pillow. "Y-you're. Offering?"

Ryou nodded shyly A dark blush formed on Mariku's face, and awkwardly glanced away, "To... make me feel better?" He said.

Ryou nodded. Mariku continued to look off to the side, unsure of how to respond to this odd offer.

Ryou decided he'd speak up. "Look, just go get those potions of yours, and dump them on me," He ordered, crossing his arms.

Mariku swallowed roughly, as he snapped out of his awkward thoughts. "R-right, of course." He gently lifted Ryou up off of him and placed the boy on the little coffee table, getting up and walking to the kitchen.

Ryou sighed nervously. Why'd he just do that? He's literally serving himself up on a silver platter. But it'll be worth it if this cheers Mariku up. Maybe offering himself has saved a lot of awkwardness- not to mention surprise- when he randomly turns on him. Hopefully that won't happen…

He sighed. "I might have made a mistake by doing this." Just then, Mariku came back, holding two bottles. He sat back down on the couch, putting the bottles besides Ryou on the little table. Mariku sighed, picking Ryou up in his fist and grabbed one of the small bottles, reading it first to make sure it was the right one. He nodded briefly to himself, confirming that it was. He popped off the small cork, and hovered it over the small Brit. Ryou cringed, squeezing his eyes shut, expecting to be drenched. Though to his surprise, Mariku gently tipped the bottle instead of dumping a ton of it on him, like he normally.did. But not anymore, never again. Never. From now he’d on try and be as gentle as he can with Ryou. But for now, he'll just put aside his bad morning with Marik, and just enjoy this rare willing experience with the Brit.

He slowly poured the magical liquid on Ryou's head, until it eventually drenched his whole body. "Keep your eyes shut, and don't wipe this stuff off, it's not set properly yet." He said, calmly, smiling softly. Ryou nodded, keeping his eyes shut. 5 seconds later, Ryou's body glowed a dull blue sort of colour, mixed with a bit of white and purple, which soon died back down and Ryou was dry again.

He opened his eyes, blinking slightly, looking up at Mariku who was still smiling softly. Ryou smiled back, nuzzling up to Mariku's hand that held him.

Mariku sighed, bringing Ryou up to his mouth, and kissed the Brit's forehead. Ryou's eyes widened with surprise, a deep red forming on his pale face.

Mariku simply chuckled, seeing Ryou's face all red and flushed. "Okay, I'll stop teasing you," he chuckled. Ryou was still a little bit flushed, but it was fading away slightly.

Mariku took a short deep breath to relax again and opened his mouth, exposing fairly sharp teeth.

Ryou shuddered slightly in his grip, as he was moved closer to Mariku's wide open mouth. Mariku frowned slightly, feeling Ryou shudder, and closed his mouth again. "You're scared, aren't you?" He said with a frown.

Ryou shook his head, "No, no." He stopped seeing Mariku's serious stare. "U-uh. Alright, a little bit. ...Okay a lot. But it's just a little daunting at first. Please, don't worry about me. The reason I'm doing this, is to make you happy. So, just go ahead," Ryou said with a reassuring smile.

Mariku gave Ryou a long hard stare, looking for any uncertain expression. After a while, he sighed deeply, "Alright," he said, opening his mouth again and placing Ryou inside, his jaws closing behind the tiny teen.

Ryou frowned slightly at being back inside the humid cavern of Mariku's mouth.

Mariku laid back down on the couch, beginning to gently roll Ryou around on his tongue. He was slicking him up to make it easier to swallow him down. He smiled contently as he laid back, licking and tasting the small Brit.

Meanwhile, Ryou cringed, as he was getting coated, and lathered up, in slimy, sticky saliva. 

After a minute or two, Mariku tilted his head back and lifted his tongue up, letting Ryou slide towards his open throat. "Okay, down the hatch~" he couldn't help but chuckle.

Ryou sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, waiting to be pulled in. Mariku tilted his head up, and swallowed Ryou alive and whole. He sighed, placing a hand on his stomach, feeling Ryou slip down his gullet, eventually settling in the contents of his stomach. He sat back up, grabbing the second bottle off the table, "Heads up, I'm about to drink the second potion." He said, bringing the vial to his lips, and gulped down the liquid.

Ryou yelped as it came down on top of him. Mariku laid back down, and glanced down at his stomach with a bit of concern, "Are you alright?" He asked.

Ryou cringed slightly, shaking the sticky saliva off his hands. "Y-yeah. I'm fine, just.very wet."

Mariku chuckled in response, "Heheh, I'd imagine so," he smiled.

Ryou couldn't help but giggle, and roll his eyes. For the first time, he actually felt remotely safe inside Mariku's stomach. He sighed contently, laying down himself. Mariku yawned, "hey. Mind if I  have a nap? No harm will come to you while you're in there." He said calmly.

Ryou smiled, "Okay, you promise?" He said.

"Promise, Cross my heart and hope to die" he said with a slight chuckle.

Ryou sighed contently, "Alright, I might have a nap too then." He yawned slightly, stretching out his arms, not minding the wet saliva coating him and just the plain humid air. It was quite relaxing, knowing now Mariku wouldn't hurt him. He particularly liked how he showed he generally cared, and handled him with as much care as he could muster.

"Hey." Mariku said suddenly.

Ryou looked up slightly, "Yes?" He said.

"Thanks. I feel much better." He said sighing contently, gently caressing his middle.

Ryou smiled, "Any time. Hey, we can do this more often if you want to."

Mariku blinked, "Yeah, I'd like that. But what about you?" He asked, showing he generally cared for Ryou's feelings.

"I'll be fine. Just as long as you ask first, and no silly accidents, this'll work out just fine," he giggled softly.

"Alright, I'll keep that in mind." He yawned, with a large smile, soon closing his eyes.

_______

A few hours later, Ryou stirred first. The potion had done its job and he was still in one piece, although his clothes were starting to stick to his skin from the moisture.

He stood up and stretched as much as he could, then gently prodded the inside of Mariku’s stomach.

“Mariku? Are you awake?”

In response, he got a loud rumbling that could have been a snore, and Mariku turning over in his sleep, sloshing more neutralized acid on top of him and knocking him over.

Ryou pulled his bangs out of his face and gave a huff. He preferred not being digested but was at the whim of Mariku to when he’d be let out.

It was another twenty minutes before Mariku woke up, and he prodded at his stomach. “Are you all right in there?”

“I’m fine, but I’d like to be let out now, please.”

“Right.” He stood up and walked over to the kitchen, pouring a glass of water then drinking it to make his throat less dry. Ryou winced as it drizzled on top of him, but sighed in relief when Mariku coughed him up. He was covered in fluid, but Mariku set him down on a towel so he could dry off.

When he was less wet, he smiled up at Mariku. “That was… nice. Cozy. I could like it, as long as we both agree when.”

“And you know I like it too.” Mariku leaned forward and licked Ryou’s face, before kissing the top of his head. “You’re too sweet.”

That got a giggle out of Ryou, and he knew everything was going to be okay.

[greatshell-rider]

34. a deer darting away under the trees (sensory prompts)

Lani sat cross-legged in the gnarled roots of an ancient saphion tree. Spears of sunlight lanced through the tree’s branches, moving gently over her body as soft spots of warmth as the wind rustled through. The sharp taste of the saphion leaf sat on the tip of her tongue, slowly permeating her saliva with a brackish bitterness. It cleared her head, though, allowing her to focus on one thing and one thing alone—a rare occurrence, for her.

She focused on the roots. Those thick knotted limbs that cropped up from the leaf-littered forest floor to curl around Lani like a bird’s nest around its clutch of eggs. Though the bark on the trunk of the saphion tree was thick and rough, the roots whereupon Lani sat were rubbed smooth from the press of thousands of fingertips over the course of centuries. A light scent rose from the roots, barely discernible in the warm summer breeze, and despite the familiarity, despite her focus, despite the drug, despite all that she tried, Lani couldn’t name it. All she knew is that she knew it, but whether from long ago or just yesterday . . . well. Perhaps the tree would know.

So Lani shifted her focus. No longer directed merely at the exterior of the tree, She tipped her senses down. Down, down, down, spiraling into a free fall, until she was well within the mindscape of the ancient being and began to slow. Her body remained in the roots’ embrace, but her mind stood at the doorpost of the tree’s mind, and politely, she knocked.

The figurative bark of the figurative doorpost molded into a figurative eye, which stared at Lani in whorls of brown and red. She smiled—figuratively—at it. “Hello.”

“You again?” the tree sighed.

“You should know I’ve almost earned my license,” Lani told it. “Only just barely failed the final exam.”

“By what, half the questions?” the tree grumbled, but figuratively swung its mind’s door open to admit her. “Come inside, you miserable scrap of mineral.”

“I do think I’m getting close,” Lani said as she strolled inside. She threw herself down onto her favorite leafbag—like an Earth beanbag, but crunchier—and sighed dramatically. “It’s just that darn-ed professor! They and their silly written exam! They want me to fail, you know.”

“I can’t imagine why,” the tree said. “Milk, yes or no?”

“Do I look like a heathen?”

“Your choice,” the tree shrugged, and passed her a cup of steaming yellow-tinged tea. It was the same stuff as the leaf on Lani’s physical tongue, but, you know. Figurative. Didn’t make it taste any better. Lani took a sip anyway. She liked these visits with the tree—and not just because the tree tutored her in soothing—and if the tree insisted she drink the weird juice, well, she would drink the weird juice.

The tree poured itself a cup and folded itself down into a leafbag opposite of Lani. “So. Why grace my mind with yours today, dear pupil?”

Lani startled, nearly dropping her tea as she pulled and tugged at the skin around her—figurative—eye, trying to see how the pupil had changed. “When did the transformation begin!” she cried out in horror. “Help, Teacher! I-I think I can feel antlers growing!” She grabbed at her hair and pulled at it in agonized panic—then glanced up to see if the tree was smiling.

It wasn’t, but Lani laughed anyway, rewarding her funny little prank with another sip of tea. She shrugged. “Yeah, no, just wanted to pop in. Say hi. Say no to your milk. Make knee-slapping jokes.”

“The usual, I see,” the tree said. “And here I thought you’d heard the news . . .”

Lani perked up, setting her cup aside to lean forward with elbows on her knees. “Trees’re talkin’ again, huh?”

“Clean up that accent,” the tree scolded. “No one wants to hear it in these parts, least of all me.”

Lani nodded eagerly. “Right. And the hot goss?”

The tree sighed. “It’s steaming,” it admitted. “Tunes from the mountains is that the Tarnished Giants are on the move.” It took a long sip of tea, eyeing Lani for her reaction.

Lani sat back. “Oh, is that all?” She yawned. “Cool.”

The tree pursed its lips. “It is not ‘all’ and it is not ‘cool’. Surely you know from your lessons what the Tarnished Giants are capable of.”

Lani flapped her hand dismissively. “Oh sure, sure. It’s just that that’s old goss. Cold, sticky, scraped-off-the-bottom-of-the-pot goss. I heard all about the rust rocks or whatever from the birds yesterday morning.”

The tree stared at her a long moment before remembering its tea and drinking again. “I simply cannot believe a soother of your capabilities has not yet earned her license,” it murmured, shaking its head. “Trees and birds and stone? You may have a point about Rupfford’s exam.”

“Right? I’ve told everyone how lame it is, but you’re the only one so far who’s listened.” She tsk-ed. “I guess it just goes to show how—”

“So what did the birds tell you?” the tree interrupted. It rotated its empty cup around and around in its hands. “Anything more on the Tarnished?”

“Nah, they weren’t too keen on talking too much about them. However . . . there was something else . . .” Lani looked slyly up at the tree, scratching idly at her scalp in a non-idle way.

The tree nodded immediately. “You’ll get your regular payment. Next fortnight?”

“I might need it a little sooner . . .”

The tree considered a moment this time. “Night after the full moon. That’s the soonest I can have it.”

“Deal! So. Here’s the real hot goss . . .” Lani leaned in and the tree did the same, their minds blurring and blending together to allow the secret and untraceable transfer of sooth. Sheer knowledge. Utter truth. That which is known and that which is, is. That which could not be denied. That which was, and is, and would be. A single thread of the universe, loosened from its tapestry for just the barest of moments to be passed between fingertips.

Finally Lani withdrew, collapsing back onto her leafbag, figuratively beaded with sweat and literally exhausted. The tree slid out much more gracefully, only taking a moment to steady itself before clearing its throat and saying, “Well. That is certainly . . .”

“Hot goss,” Lani breathed, sinking a mile deep into the leafbag.

“It is certainly something,” the tree agreed. It turned its cup around a little quicker. “But, Lani, are you sure. I know you trust Red Breast’s song, but if this rumor proves to be true . . .”

Lani snorted. “I did not mingle my mind with yours just for you to doubt the sooth’s validity.”

The tree frowned. “I suppose. Well. This is, at the very least, deeply—”

There was a rustling sound louder than the rest in the physical world, and Lani lost her concentration. Immediately she snapped back into her body, and had barely a moment to register a young stag fleeing into the brush with his purple-fluff tail flared high before the pain hit her skull like the blacksmith’s hammer to their anvil.

“Owwww,” she groaned, doubling over and grabbing her head. “Ugh. Stupid deer.” At least it was night now, the bright sunshine replaced with the softer glow of distant stars.

“That is what you get for imperfectly disconnecting minds with the saphion,” a haughty voice said. “Question number thirty-eight, isn’t it, on my exam.”

Lani groaned louder as a figure stepped out of the shadows of a nearby tree. “Professor Rupfford,” she said, miserably watching them approach. “How ever did you find me.”

“The Board has been aware of your . . . additional tutoring for a while now.” The professor loomed over her, arms folded inside the long sleeves of their honey-gold robe. “It took very little effort to narrow down the options of who could handle your temperament from there.”

Lani merely grunted, too preoccupied with handling her head’s temperament to come up with something clever, or even snarky.

“Come on,” they said, taking Lani by the upper arm and dragging her to her feet. “We would have words with you.”

They marched through the trees, Lani stumbling after them. “We?” she mumbled. “Who—the Board?”

Rupfford’s grip on her arm tightened, and Lani glanced at them, noticing how deep the lines of their face went, how their mouth was drawn into a line tauter than usual, how the look in their brown eyes was strained. How it seemed, to her at least, that the professor wasn’t angry. Or even just deeply upset at the poor conduct of one of their students. No . . . they were afraid.

A slow grin crawled up Lani’s face. “Hmm,” she mused, absently dismissing the headache. The last of the saphion leaf’s effects wore off, and all the different little thoughts and plots and puzzles and games and treats began to creak and turn, like all the little well-oiled gears of an old-fashioned clock. “You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?”

The professor didn’t respond, nothing changing in their face or posture, but walked faster, forcing Lani to jog to keep up.

Well, that wouldn’t do. Lani dug in her heels and dragged the two of them to a halt. Rupfford swung around to face her and Lani stood up on tip-toe to whisper in their ear, “You know who I am. You figured. It. Out. Haven’t you?”

They drew back as if she were a venomous snake. “Come quietly,” they hissed, spit speckling Lani’s face. “Do not make me use force.”

“Just say it,” Lani told them, smirking now. “Go on, don’t be afraid. I dare you. What’s my name?”

Their upper lip curled, revealing teeth stained purple. “Starweaver.” They said it like a curse. “Yes, I know who you are. I know what you’ve done, moving across the universe and all its many ’scapes. I know what you plan to do here, as well.”

Lani laughed at that. “Let’s say, for the fun of it,” she said, wiping away a tear, “that you do. The question then, is what are you planning to do in response?” She smirked. “What will the Chipped Diamond do to stop me?”

Rupfford’s eyes widened. “I—I don’t—” they began to stammer.

“Don’t hurt yourself trying to say a lie,” Lani said, disgusted. “I mean, you’ll hurt me as well. That’s painful to watch.”

They opened and closed their mouth a few times more. Then, finally, managed to get out, “You are coming with me, Starweaver.”

“Sure.”

“Try as you may to resist, but I have full authorization to—What? What did you say?”

Lani stuck her hands in her pockets, bored. “Sure. I’ll come with.”

They stared at her.

“I’ll take a pass on the burlap sack or whatever blindfold-thingy you’ve got,” she added. “Been there, done that, not a great time, so—”

“To be clear,” the professor cut in. “You are. Coming. Willingly.”

Lani shrugged. “I mean, I already have a headache, so it’s not like I want to get knocked out and undergo more head trauma . . .”

They narrowed their eyes. “This is some sort of trick, isn’t it,” they said, words quick and clipped. “You’re trained as a soother, so you shouldn’t be able to, but you can lie, can’t you, which means this, and everything you’ve said, cannot be trusted, and—”

“Dude,” Lani said, “this is a limited time offer only. Either lead the way, or get out of my way, because one way or another I will be speaking to the Chipped Diamond tonight. This ’scape was getting boring anyway, so chop chop.” She clapped her hands. “Let’s get this thing moving. To the climax already!”

They just continued to stare, so Lani shooed her hands at them. “Move!”

And they did, stumbling a little uncertainly back onto the narrow deer trail they’d been pulling her down. But she followed after, strolling along as patiently as she could, and slowly Rupfford regained some of their composure, smoothing down their robes and quickening their stride to an urgent march. Impressive, for a pair of knees so old and knobbly. They even dared turn their back to Lani, no longer checking to see if she was still following, and didn’t bother with any more words or questions. Which Lani appreciated, and she kept quiet too. She couldn’t talk to any birds or trees along the way, not with Rupfford so attuned a soother, but if they passed a large enough boulder . . . Well, a finger’s brush wasn’t much, but it was possible she could meld with its mind enough to ask it to send a message to Jerry and warn him of the timetable’s adjustment. Her brother wouldn’t be pleased, but when was he? And it was true, Lani supposed, that forcing them to act without their strike force fully prepared increased the possibility of this whole scheme falling apart quicker than paper mâché in rain to quite a high percentage. Such as it was. Lani had chosen this plan mostly just to try it out, anyway. She’d never been confident about it. It rarely served well to be certain of anything. Just determined.

So Lani lowered her head, eyes trained on the back of her professor’s robes, and stalked through the trees behind them. Maybe if she had time, maybe once this was all done, she would pop in on her saphion teacher again and tell it of this hot, hot goss. She wouldn’t drink the leaf juice this time, however. She was sick of tea.