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#when in real life t was so so far from that
written-in-flowers · 2 days
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His Pet: Demon!Hongjoong x Fem!Reader
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Pairing: Incubs!Hongjoong x Fem!Human!Reader | side pairing: demon!wooyoung x Fem!reader, demon!Mingi x fem!reader
Word Count: 13k
Genre: hella smut, some angst MINORS DNI
Summary: at the end of her first day, YN spends her night with Master Hongjoong. It's only then she realizes just how different he is from his demon brothers.
Tags: master slave/realationship, bondage, BDSM, mentions of tabbo kinks (watersports/beastiality but it isn't graphic), restraints, sex machines, sex toys, anal sex, anal toys, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, edging, exhibitionism, dracyphilia, nipple play, nipple clamps, vaginal fingering, handjobs, quickies, dirty talk, pussy slapping, spanking with paddles and whips, whipped, humiliation, degradation, throat fucking, rough oral sex, double penetration, gagging, choking, cockslapping,
Previously on Pretty Pet > Next
***
The grogginess of sleep made you unaware of his presence. You rolled onto your other side, relishing in the cooler half of the bed without noticing him. Your mind clung to the dreamworld, reaching out for a mother you'd lost. Standing in your old bedroom, you saw the old toys and games. The movie and band posters you’d hung still remained on the walls. But, you only saw Her. She stood in the doorway with her warm smile and a glass of milk in her hand. 
‘Having trouble sleeping, angel?’ 
You crumbled onto the shaggy carpet. Every single regret poured out in tears. You begged her for forgiveness; for leaving her alone, for abandoning her, and cutting her out of your life. You knew how much she loved you, and you resented her anyway. You reached out for her, moving to touch her before long black claws pulled you away. The pain they left in your skin felt so real. The last few wisps of fruity perfume and trickles of warmth brushed off you as they drew you into the darkness.  
“Mama…” you groaned, slipping between your new bedroom and your childhood room. She was right there in the doorway, her hair and skin so much similar to yours. Maybe that was why he hit her. She reminded him of you, his biggest mistake. 
“Ma…”
“Is that another kink of yours?”
Instantly pulled from your dreams, you bolted upright to see Hongjoong standing by your bed. Arms crossed, he greeted you with an amused smile. After your bath in Seonghwa’s apartment, you came back to your room for a nap. You hadn’t seen the point in putting on clothes, so you’d fallen asleep naked. Yet, to Hongjoong, you might as well be wearing a sweater and pants for all the notice he took. Sitting up, you forced yourself out of sleep to fully take him in. 
“I personally prefer ‘Daddy’ when the mood strikes me,” he continued, “But Mama can be fun. Would you like me to wear a dress for that or-”
“-What do you mean?” You stammered, pushing hair aside. 
“You called me ‘Mama’,” he said, “Unless you're having dreams about someone else?”
“No, of course not.”
Hongjoong giggled, “Liar.” 
He flopped down on the bed beside you, groaning in relief as he sunk into it. You noticed he wore a regular black t-shirt and jeans, far removed from the sleek, polished look he'd sported before. The distinct smell of sweat and blood came from him, mixed with his sweet pheromone. You guessed he’d come straight from work. It equally disgusted but fascinated you.  
“Do you always have dreams about your mother?” He asked, eyes closed.
“Not always. Just sometimes.”
“Was it because of San? He says he's always wanted his own family, you know, outside of Seonghwa and me.” He scoffed, “It's boring and dumb.”
“I guess it was. Do you have those?”
“No. I don't even remember what my mother looks like. She popped me out and then walked away.”
“She did?”
“Yup,” he nodded, hands behind his head. “I saw her perhaps two or three times in childhood, but that was a long time ago. I have no idea where she is anymore. She stays up in the human world, corrupting and possessing souls.” 
“Do you miss her?”
“Can't miss someone you never knew. I suppose you knew yours?”
“I did, but I wasn't very kind to her when I grew up. I stopped talking to her after I moved out.”
“Is that why you asked her to forgive you?”
“Yes.”
“Hm, sad,” he said, but he didn't sound very sad to you. “You're here, so there isn't anything you can do for her. We're your new family now,” he put his hand on your thigh, gently brushing his thumb back and forth. “You be a good pet and do what we ask,” he yawned, “And we'll take care of you.” He laid in your bed a minute before he said, “And you'll obviously take care of us. Since, you know, you made both your handlers cum in minutes.”
“Master Seonghwa told me to-”
“-To give Yeosang a handjob, I know,” he said, hand sliding up your thigh. “But, did you have to torture poor Jongho? He's the youngest and sweetest of us and you tortured him with your beautiful body.”
“I didn't do anything he didn't want already. I turned around and there he was,” you shrugged. “I would've felt bad sending him away when he was already so hard.”
“So,” Hongjoong began, unbuckling his pants, “If I ever start jerking off in front of you, you'll let me watch?”
“Would I have a choice?”
“Not really, but,” he put his hand between your thighs, fingers grazing your sex, “It's not as if you'd say no. I have a feeling you like demon dick quite a lot.” He withdrew himself from his trousers, and you saw him already semi-hard in his hand. “Is it because they're longer or thicker or both?” 
“I'm not wholly sure, honestly,” you admitted, holding your breath as he began tracing circles on your pussy. You laid back on the bed beside him, so he had more access to you. “It just feels better.”
“You're not wrong there,” he chuckled, stroking himself in time with his touches on you. “I love it more than anything, personally. I used to fuck humans in the living world, but nothing quite beats demons. But, don't take that to heart,” he said, “I still love human pussy just as much. Particularly yours.”
You rolled onto your side, resting against him for a better feel of his hand. “And why is that?” You took him in your hand, earning a low groan. 
“Because you take my dick so well,” he said, sliding two fingers inside you. The both of you kept slow paces on each other, neither of you in a hurry, “Most human slaves have trouble the first time, but this right here fits around me perfectly. It's almost as if this pussy was made for me,” he pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, “Always wet and ready to be fucked. Is that why you slept naked? Were you hoping one of us would come here and take advantage of you?”
“I don't know what you mean,” you said, stroking him languidly. “This is when I'm most comfortable.”
“Good to know,” he said, keeping his fingers inside and rubbing your clit with his thumb, “Because this is how I want you when you're with me.”
“Nude and aching for you?”
He laughed, “The aching is optional. I want you naked all the time. Less layers means less to worry about.” He pulled fingers from you and did slow circles around your clit. “I can get to this right away.”
He captured your lips with his, the both of you moaning together. Hooking his hand around your knee, he pulled you up onto him. The sudden crash of his dick to your cunt added more pressure between your thighs. Carnivals. Fairs. Candy shops. 
The faint scent of cotton candy had you rutting against him. Hongjoong carried the sweet aroma that brought you back to childhood. It seeped into your pores and became one with your natural scents. You might as well feel drugged with how it added to your desires. You moaned each time the bulb of his cock pushed into your clit. A hand in your hair, and another on your thigh, Hongjoong kept you still as he grinded against you. Each time you tried moving, he laid a hard smack to your ass. 
“Stay still,” he ordered with a harsh slap, lips against yours, “Stay fucking still.”
“Yes, Master,” you whined, feeling his cock nearly press into your entrance. 
He continued kissing you deeply. Your fingers clenched around the pillow underneath him, you took every bit of strength to not hump him like a dog. Hongjoong, while smaller and skinnier than his brothers, carried the same strength as them. He kept you firmly pressed to him without a problem, and his smacks burned your skin each time. You whined and moaned into his mouth whenever his length slid over you. His mere grinding couldn’t scratch the itch inside you. Your walls clenched for him, trying to grab the head that constantly brushed close to it. Your hand slid up his neck to his cherry red hair, and you tugged in a way that made him growl. Hongjoong returned this by keeping you dangling over that frustrating barrier of denial and relief. You could feel the thin ridges brushing your clit, making you gyrate into him involuntarily. 
“I said ‘stay still’,” he said between kisses, switching cheeks and slapping the left side. “Impatient whore,” he groaned, “Can’t even wait for cock.”
“I want it so badly, Master,” you whined in a kiss. “Please, let me have it. Please, please. I promise I’ll be good for you all night. Please.”
“You’re not being very good right now,” he noted, “With you grinding against me when I told you not to.” He made a few hard slaps on either cheeks, causing you to cry out in pain. “How do I know you’ll be good for me tonight?”
“I promise I will,” you said, forcing yourself to be still as he started grinding faster, “I promise, I promise.”
He laughed at your whimpering, “I don't think so. You're going to have to prove it. Lay down for me.”
You moved to lay on your back, lips crashing with his right away, when the door opened. Jongho appeared by the corner of the bed, doing his best not to notice your body or your position. 
“Master Hongjoong,” he said stiffly, “Dinner will be served soon. Wooyoung is here to dress YN for dinner.”
A bit of aggravation reached the pit of your stomach. You saw annoyance flicker in Hongjoong’s eyes before he turned to look down at you. 
“I suppose we will have to finish this later, Pet,” he said with a defeated sigh. 
“But, Master,” you pouted, “Can you relieve me at least a little bit?”
“I'm afraid not now,” he kissed you one final time. It was passionate and slow, tongues sliding and bodies molding together for a few brief seconds. “But, if Wooyoung or Jongho wish to help you get there, I won’t be opposed to it. A little finger or tongue action is just what my pet needs,” he pushed hair from your face and kissed you again. “You can tell me all about it when we’re alone tonight,” he whispered. 
You kept him close to you by his forearms, “But I only want you tonight, Master.”
He grinned, “You’ll have me, but I think I have an idea of how slutty our pet can get. I told Seonghwa it’s ridiculous to make you deny your own desires. You’re a pleasure slave. Seeking out pleasure is what you do best.” He pushed into you a few times, smiling in your next kiss. “So, do what comes naturally to you, slut, and enjoy whoever you like. My only rule is,” he squeezed both your breasts, “Nobody goes inside your cunt but us. Your holes belong to us, understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Tell me, why can't the others be in your pussy?” 
“Because my holes belong to my masters,” you said, knowing what he wanted to hear. 
He beamed, “You listen well. Good.” 
Hongjoong gave you another kiss while he put himself together again. Even when he finished zipping up, he kept kissing you. You suspected if Jongho did not insist, he would have given into his desires for you sooner. 
“It’ll be equally hard for me too,” he confessed, briefly kissing you, “But Seonghwa will bitch if we’re not at dinner.” 
He finally lifted himself off the bed, fixing his shirt and taking deep breaths. Jongho bowed his head as Hongjoong exited the room. The two of you alone, Jongho addressed you. 
“I’m sorry about that,” he said, “But dinner is an important thing around here. Master Seonghwa and Master San insist you be there and look your best.” 
“I figured,” you grunted, your arousal radiating between your thighs. You swore you could almost feel him still there; his thickness spreading you apart in each thrust before sticking it inside you. “But, did you have to come in right now?”
“I was ordered to,” he said, “You know how it is. Besides, it isn’t like he won’t do it later anyways. Come on. Bath time, little pet.” 
You slid off the bed, shaking Hongjoong from your system as you waited on Jongho to prepare your bath. Someone walked in right as you stepped into the water. 
“There she is,” Wooyoung beamed, two of his purple-clad assistants entering the bathroom, “I heard through the grapevine you had quite a time with San and Seonghwa. You must be something special for them to be so weak for you.” He looked in a mirror, nearly seducing himself as he fixed his hair around his upturned horns. “I’ve never seen them so excited by a human before.”
“She is special,” Jongho smiled knowingly. He’ll never forget your moment in the bathroom, which pleased you. 
“I hope I should be so lucky one day,” Wooyoung winked at you. “I’ve never had a human before.”
“Wooyoung, do not say such things,” Jongho said. “The Masters might hear you.”
“Ugh,” he rolled his eyes, “As if they haven’t thought about it. Everyone knows what a horndog Hongjoong is, and his brothers aren’t saints either. Sungmi, Kyla,” he called to the two assistants setting up a nail station in the bathroom, “Black stilleto shape with black rhinestones for tonight.” He looked down at you, putting you into a frame with his hands, “Yes, I have the perfect vision. You are going to be drop dead gorgeous when I’m done with you. The Masters won’t be able to control themselves.”
“Hopefully they’ll manage to keep it in through dinner,” Jongho said, running a thin, mint-scented oil in your hair. “Cook worked so hard on Master Seonghwa’s menu. It’d be a shame to see it wasted.”
Wooyoung came around the tub, and took over your hair from Jongho. Smooth fingers ran from the nape of your neck to the very ends, spreading the oil as much as your hair let him. Something sensual laid in these delicate touches. Wooyoung’s fingers continued briefly touching your neck, and you felt him staring down into the murky waters. You couldn’t help sensing that Wooyoung did not normally aid in the bathing portion of the process. When the both of them finally finished, your suspicions were proven true. 
“Wow,” he breathed, gazing down at your wet body, “Yeosang has every right to hope you're put in the greenhouse. Dennis can always use a few helping hands.”
“Wooyoung!” Jongho snapped, “She’s not for you.”
“Who's Dennis?”
“I know that,” he retorted, ignoring your question. “I’m only saying she looks good. I wouldn’t bother dressing her at all if I had her walking around my house.” 
“Ugh, you’re so obscene,” Jongho rolled his eyes. 
He wrapped you in a fluffy towel, drying you off quickly before sliding you to the nail station where one of the assistants sat. You rested back on the chair as the two assistants began cleaning, shaping, and painting your nails as instructed. The beaded patterns glittered whenever you wiggled your fingers. You never painted your nails black because of the rumors that it damages your nails. Yet, you admitted this had a nice effect. 
When they finished your nails, Jongho led you into the dressing room where Wooyoung stood. You saw more assistants plucking things off shelves and racks to present to their employer. Wooyoung stood by the vanity table, arranging makeup for you. He came over, lifting up your nails to examine them. 
“Well done,” he told the nail artists, “You may go.” They bowed and left the room. “Jongho,” he called to him, “Yeosang was in here a few minutes ago asking for you. He seemed a bit more heated than usual.”
Jongho groaned, “It’s probably about her bedtime routine. He’s so damn picky. I swear I wanna…Ugh!”
He disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. Wooyoung waited for his assistants to finish putting an outfit together, then he dismissed them as well. Your body clenched when you heard him close the dressing room doors. The sounds in the room became stifled by the surrounding shelves and items absorbing them. He walked over to the vanity where he started working on your hair. You caught him giving you glances as he fixed your hair into his preferred style. He came around, picking up a bottle of foundation. You didn’t know how he got your exact shade, but you assumed ‘magic’. 
“You sure you’re not part demon?” he asked, applying foundation to your face with a brush. 
“I am.”
“You look like it,” he said. He added concealer next, dabbing it where needed. “You’re way too pretty to be a normal human. If you’re not a cambion, a half-demon, then somebody took a little more time with you for sure.” He lightly dusted a finishing powder on the base, then grabbed blush. “I don’t know if you noticed,” he put down the blush, and put his hands on your shoulders, “I’m quite fond of beautiful things.” 
Light fingers pulled at the opening of your robe. You had the urge to close it back up, but something about his touch stopped you. Like so many other human-presenting demons you’d met, a pheromone released from him in scents you liked. Wooyoung’s was the expensive Chanel perfume you once wore. You found it drastically unfair. He let your robe fall off your shoulders, and sighed at the sight of you. Goosebumps covered your arms as he dragged his fingers down your neck to your shoulders. 
“It must benefit you in so many ways,” he said in a mesmerized voice. He picked up a tube of lipstick, and applied it smoothly. “The power that beauty and sex appeal wield is astounding. Nobody likes to admit that pretty privilege is real, even in the underworld. The slaves with the prettiest faces and the nicest holes get better treatment over the plain faces. The succubi with the most delicious bodies make ten times more than any regular demon or human ever could,” He finished his work and observed you in the mirror. “Those who have a special preference for humans only pay top-price for the pretty ones…The ones,” his fingers traced your collarbone as he bent down to your ear, “Who can’t get enough of it earn the most and are the most expensive.” Finally, he reached your breasts, which he gently cupped. Your body instantly warmed at his touch.
“I learned a little bit about you from the slavers in the city. I casually mentioned that three of Prince Asmodeus’s sons recently acquired a human pleasure slave by your name. Some of them knew you from auctions where they’d been outbid, and other claimed they’d fucked each of your lovely holes…” he grazed your nipples, watching them harden against his fingers, “They say you’re perfectly broken. You don’t resist or refuse demon cock anymore, they said. Is that true?” he rolled your nipples in his fingers until you whimpered, “Do you prefer big demon dick over pathetic human ones now?”
“I do enjoy them,” you admitted, your sex starting to throb. 
“Gods…” he breathed against your neck, “I’d kill to fuck you right now. The most I’m allowed is the other holes and your pretty hands.” He smiled when you moaned, watching his hands grope your chest in the mirror. “Turn around for me. I want to look at you again before I have to dress you.”
On shaky legs, you faced him. Your standing position caused your robe to fall to your wrists on the table. Wooyoung drank in the sight of your body, licking his lips as he started playing with your breasts again. This new feeling reignited the stirring in your loins. Wooyoung’s hot tongue slid over your hardening nipples, the slippery tongue rapidly swirling around each one. When you reached for his groin, feeling him hot and hard in your hand, he moved closer to you. 
“You can take it out,” he whispered, “See what you could have with me some time.” 
You unbuckled and unzipped him, gasping at the large bulge poking through his underwear. “This is why I love demons so much,” you said, rubbing him with his own boxers, “They’re always so big.” 
“I saw how well you can take them,” he said, teasing your nipples. “I’d love to experience it myself one night.”
Wooyoung pulled down his boxers to free himself, and you started stroking him with both hands. He let out a long, drawn out groan as you worked him. He bent down to your breasts, and took one in his mouth. The tip of his tongue flicked over the peaks each time you reached his thick head. You let out a giggle when he started pushing into your stationary hands, grunting against your tits. 
“You really wish you could fuck me, huh?” you asked, putting his hand to your heat and smiling when he felt how wet he’d made you. “How often have you thought of wrecking my tight human holes, hm?”
“Ever since I watched you fuck them,” he groaned, holding your tits in his hands and pushing upwards. “You sounded so sweet taking dick until you couldn’t think straight. I wanted to run there and get a turn or two. But, I’ll settle for this right now.”
You gasped when two fingers slipped into you. Like Wooyoung, you began riding his hand and grinding your clit into his palm every so often. The two of you stayed by the table, grunting and moaning as you pleasured one another. He was right, of course. If you had no power on your own, your looks and sexual expertise can get you anything. Why should you not indulge in what makes you happy? As long as nobody stuck their dick in you, your masters did not seem to mind. At least, Hongjoong does not and you’re running on his schedule now.
“Keep going,” Wooyoung breathed, pushing his fingers to your hips while fucking into your hands, “Fuck yes, just like that. Keep fucking my hand like that.”
The two of you came together, hard and trembling in each other’s hands as you did. Spurts of white shot over your lower belly while you drenched his hand. He rested his forehead against your shoulder, while you leaned back onto the table. Finally getting the relief you needed, you did not mind when Wooyoung removed his fingers.
“Good,” he breathed, looking at your makeup, “I didn’t mess anything up. Let’s clean this and get you dressed, yeah?”
Business as usual. To Wooyoung, you might have not even given him a handjob. You cleaned yourself well enough to avoid discomfort later, while he started sliding you into a lace and satin lingerie set. Then, you pulled on a black silk dress that went to your feet. The backless, spaghetti strap number resembled the gowns you used to wear at fancier parties. It shimmered in black sequins, and gave a nice contrasting color to the silver snakes dangling from your earlobes. 
Jongho reappeared right as you slid your feet into matching heels. You knew right away he sensed something, but he refrained from saying anything.
“She’s ready,” Wooyoung said, spraying perfume around you. “They’re going to love her.”
Jongho led you out of the dressing room right away, “Mingi, take YN to the dining room. I have to talk to our resident stylist.”
Mingi nodded in understanding, then walked you into the hallway. Still recovering from your quick one with Wooyoung, you forced yourself to gain the energy to be around your masters. You imagined Jongho giving the stylist a harsh scolding for indulging his desires and making you late for dinner. If you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve wondered what the big deal about being a little bit late was, but you did know better. 
As you walked, you noticed Mingi. Long and broad, you expected him to make loud thumps when he walked, but instead he moved quieter than a shadow. You also saw he did not wear the armor or weapons most demonic bodyguards wore in palaces like the Black Keep.
“Where are your weapons?” you asked inquisitively. “Don’t big bad warriors wear loads of them?” 
“They do, but I got these.” He flicked his right wrist as a sharp blade poked out of his cuff. “I don’t carry heavy stuff. It slows me down and gets in the way. My job is to protect you inside the keep, so I don’t need anything but these.”
“So, if somebody breaks into my room-”
“-I’ll be prepared for that. I’ve been fighting most of my life, YN. Children of Satan are trained in combat from the time we’re very small.”
“Satan?”
“Prince of Wrath. He’s one of the seven princes of Inferno,” he explained. “You didn’t know that?”
��I’ll admit I don’t know much about this place. I sort of landed here and that was it.”
“Ignorance keeps the human population under control,” he said. “But, I’m sure Master Seonghwa will teach you.” 
“With the college schedule he’s giving me, I’m sure I will.” You both walked past the open windows, and you saw how in the darkness between each window, Mingi seemed to disappear. “What the…”
“I’m a shadow demon,” he said, answering the question you didn’t ask. “We blend into darkness pretty well. I got it from my mother.”
“Did you know her or are you like The Masters?”
“She was my mentor in school. She wasn’t very maternal, but she was at least there to teach me valuable skills.”
“Like how to blend into the dark?”
“Yes.” You then heard the smugness as he said, “I guess you can say shadow demons are born in the darkness.” 
“And what about the others? Do you know anything about them?”
“Yeosang is my half-brother through my father,” he said, “And Jongho isn’t royalty at all. His parents were trickster demons, which is how he’s able to sort of appear and disappear like he does. Yunho is a grandson of Prince Mammon, Prince of Greed, which makes him the perfect person to run a household’s finances,” he chuckled. “Wooyoung’s somebody’s great-great-great-great offspring of one of King Lucifer’s half-breed children, but I don’t believe that. I think he’s just another vain demon, focused on his looks all the time. I wasn’t surprised when I heard he screws people in a room of mirrors.”
“Huh, interesting.”
“And, you probably already know, but The Masters are sons of Asmodeus, Prince of Lust. Their mother was a succubi, hence why she’s not interested in being a mother to her sons,” he said, guiding you closer to the dining room.
You pitied the three brothers. Your father might have been a mean bastard, but you had your mother, the nicest woman you’d ever known. If she’d left, you’d face your father’s rage all alone. As you reached the dining room, you recalled your dream. Even with a battered face, your mother took care of you. She was the shield between you and your father. She sacrificed for you, and you called her pathetic and weak, promising to never be like her. You wondered where she was, as you sat in your seat at the table, and if she was okay. Your father died years before you did, which left her alone.
God, you’re a cruel bitch. 
All three masters sat at the dining table. Clearly, they’d changed from their work clothes into dinner clothes. You’ll say that your masters showed dedication to their aesthetics. Seonghwa wore a ruffled shirt with a red-wine cravat pinned with a dark ruby brooch; San kept his button down shirt and tie neat and crisp, while Hongjoong wore a satin black shirt unbuttoned halfway with black pants. A hearty spread laid out on the table, with wine cups being regularly filled by nearby maids. 
Jongho served you himself, placing a piece of salmon with an apple and kale salad; he added a bread roll before pouring you white wine. You noticed your masters feasted on different meals: San had a protein packed plate of steak and eggs, while Seonghwa ate from a light pasta dish. Hongjoong had nothing on his plate, but instead drank red wine. 
“-Hongjoong, you must eat,” said Seonghwa, twirling pasta on his fork. 
“I am,” said Hongjoong. “I’m eating grapes.”
“I mean food, Hongjoong. You’ll need energy for tonight. At least some bread and butter if you won’t-oh, Hongjoong, you are such a child.”
Hongjoong produced a bag of chips from nowhere, and munched on them pointedly. “Anyways,” Hongjoong continued, “As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me-”
“-Hmpf-”
“-I told him if he wanted to escape Inferno, he should have stayed a regular mayor instead of becoming a dictator,” Hongjoong shrugged. “The man ordered the deaths of millions of people, tortured political prisoners, stole and cheated his allies and is surprised he is in Hell?”
Seonghwa snorted, “They don't think it's real until they're dead and sitting in your chair.” He quietly ate more pasta, then dabbed at his mouth. 
“What did you do to him?” San asked curiously before chewing a piece of steak. 
“The same things he used to have done to the people he imprisoned,” Hongjoong replied. “I figure he has a day or two more until he's broken. Then he'll be shipped to wherever he's supposed to go.”
“We had a similar guy in the arena today,” San said. “A murderer who killed dozens of women for years. He said he was sorry and wanted to earn his way out.” San snickered, “Nayeon took him out in seconds. She takes enjoyment in the men, I've noticed.”
“Likely because they're scumbags,” Hongjoong suggested. “Anybody win today?”
“Nope,” he shook his head. “Not a single one. But, the crowds don't like it when they win, so it works out.”
You chewed quietly on your dinner as they continued discussing work. It was when Hongjoong shifted in his seat casually that you felt his hand on your knee. A piece of salad nearly caught in your throat, but you concealed it with a gulp of wine. 
“How was your first day, Darling?” San asked. 
“It was…fine.” Hongjoong’s fingers gradually pulled your dress up to your knees, bunching the skirt above them. You sat entirely still, and continued eating. He’d be excited to know this wasn’t your first under-the-table act. 
“Just fine? I like to think I made it a little bit better than ‘fine’,” he scoffed. “Especially with how I fucked you into the table.” 
“It has to be because of you,” said Seonghwa. “I know when I had her, she loved every second of it. Yeosang even helped.”
“Did he?”
“He cleaned her up for me, since I had to go back to work,” he said. “She worked him afterwards, and from what Jongho told me,” he smirked over a fork of pasta, “It was interesting, to say the least.” 
“How so?” Hongjoong asked, hand brushing your inner thigh. 
“He said the two of them berated each other the entire time,” he replied. 
“Ah, hate sex,” Hongjoong nodded in understanding. He glanced over at you, “Sounds like our pet has a range of different interests. I can’t wait to try them all,” he slid his hand back down your thigh, creating a warmth in your panties. “I bet it’s like one of those swirl lollipops. Every lick and bite has a different flavor to it,” he licked his lips and drank from his wine cup. 
Seonghwa finished a bite of pasta when he noticed the position. He caught your eyes, raised his eyebrows, and then smirked. 
“Can’t you at least get through dinner, Hongjoong?” Seonghwa asked him. 
“I have no idea what you mean, Brother,” he said as he delicately pressed your panties into your sex. 
“Oh, I almost forgot!” San snapped his fingers, drawing Seonghwa’s attention from you. “Your collar. It came earlier today.”
“Ooh, yes!” Hongjoong said, giving you a quick rub before pulling away completely. “I saw Yeosang bringing it in.”
“My collar?” you recalled Jongho mentioning it to you, but you hadn't expected it so soon. 
San clicked his fingers, and Yeosang appeared in the corner in a puff of smoke. He held a black box between his hands, which he walked around and placed in front of you. You stared at the box in surprise. You gazed up to the three demons sitting in front of you. 
“Go on,” San beckoned, “Open it.”
You flipped open the clasp to find it sitting on velvet layers. Black lace with a rose pattern, three singular onyx gems hung from black chains. It was far more expensive than any collar you previously wore. When you examined it further, you saw a large onyx in the middle. On it, you saw they'd engraved a sigil of a snake wrapped around a thorny rose. 
“In case you get lost,” Seonghwa explained when you lifted the choker by the middle gem. “Everyone will know where to bring you.”
In case you got lost…
Or if you ran away?
“Here, let me.” 
Hongjoong stood up, took the choker from you, and clasped it comfortably on you. It was then that you saw it. Hanging from his belt was a black whip. A cat-o-nine tails whip reached from his waist to his knee. That whip likely welted and spliced lots of skin in its time. You wondered when he’d use it on you. Hongjoong ignored your staring and crouched beside you. He straightened the lace, and gems before admiring you. Soft fingers sent goosebumps down your arms as they traced the lace and tugged it gently. 
“Good thing it's elastic,” he said, thumb touching your jaw, “That way it won't break when I tug on it.”
“We will get you more as time goes on,” Seonghwa said. “But we wanted your first collar to be nice.” 
“How about dessert?” San asked, snapping his fingers for a maid to take his plate from the table. “Then maybe watch an arena fight. They broadcast them now.”
“Pet and I already have plans” Hongjoong said, looking you up and down, “So we'll pass tonight. Won't we, Pet?”
“Yes, Master,” you replied with the same seductive drip in your voice. He reached a hand to your throat, thumb ring cold on your warm skin, as he touched the collar again. “Does it look nice on me?”
“Very,” he said, sliding his thumb under it for a moment. “It’ll look better when you’re wearing nothing but this.” He inhaled your scent, and grinned, “Did someone have a little fun before dinner?”
“Maybe,” you said, turning to face him. “You did say I could enjoy myself.”
“I did,” he confirmed, still touching your neck, “With who?”
“Wooyoung. He couldn’t seem to resist me.”
He laughed softly, “Not many people can. I’m tempted to throw you on the table and pound you right here myself.” He brought you closer to him by the chin, thumb tracing your lower lip, “But then my brothers might join and I want you to myself.”
“As if she’d want just you after what I did to her today,” said Seonghwa. 
“And what did you do to her?”
“I made her squirt,” he taunted him, smiling cockily at him. “I don’t think she’s ever cummed so hard until she had my tongue and fingers. Imagine what my dick could do if I tried hard enough.”
“Pet,” Hongjoong pouted, “Why didn’t you tell me you could do that? Where was that last night? I think we did plenty to make you do that.”
“I don't know,” you answered, touching the wrist near your neck and rubbing gently, “It just happened. Don’t be angry with me.”
“I’m not,” he insisted, hand sliding across your jaw and bringing you to his lips. “The thought of it alone makes me hard,” he groaned. “That's my mission tonight. No matter how long we go at it, I'm making you squirt again.”
“I look forward to it,” you assured him, kissing him again. 
“I don't see the big deal,” San shrugged, sipping from his wine glass. “If you do it with me, that's great, but it's fine if you don't either.”
“Would you like me to do it for you, Master San?” you looked over at him, batting your lashes. 
“Absolutely,” he said, scooting his chair over to you. Like his older brother, he ran his fingers over your collar before kissing you. “I only mean if you didn’t, I won’t be a baby about it like Hongjoong.”
“I wouldn’t be a baby about it,” Hongjoong retorted. 
“You so would,” he remarked. “I only care about making you cum around me when I’m deep inside,” he said to you in a low voice. “I love bulging your tummy whenever I go deep enough.”
“I’ve noticed,” you said, “And I love you cumming inside me.” You pecked his lips. This. This is what you started enjoying: keeping them hanging on your words and giving into the natural instincts. You kissed him again before saying, “I love feeling full of you.” 
“Is that so?” Seonghwa stood behind your chair, hands on your shoulders as he kissed your ear, “I will admit it is hard to not be tempted by you, Kitten. I’ve never had a slave who so eagerly comes to me before,” he kissed your neck, “Honestly come to me, not because she was paid to do it.”
“How can I refuse when you treat me so well?” you asked, turning your head to look at him. “I can be a pain in the ass and end up back in a brothel, where I’m nobody. I can be defiant and get whipped every day-”
“-You say that like it’s a bad thing-” interrupted Hongjoong.
“-Or I can be a good girl,” you said to Seonghwa, locking eyes with him so he didn’t look away, “And be put in pretty clothes, eat good food, drink wine and have as much sex as my masters want. Mingi says you’re all pretty important people. I spent most of my previous life injecting myself into the lives of important, powerful people to get what I want. It’s really nothing I haven’t done before.” You touched the jewel pin of his cravat, lightly brushing under his chin. “As the saying goes, you get more bees with honey than with vinegar.” 
“And you certainly taste like honey.”
He kissed you first, cupping your jaw and opening your mouth slowly. San and Hongjoong looked on as Seonghwa’s tongue slid against yours, brushing your lower lip from time to time. 
“Too bad you’re with Hongjoong tonight,” he said, breaking away from you. “I’d love to make you cum like that again in my own bed.”
“As if you can’t do that any other time.”
The two of you laughed before Hongjoong interrupted with his own kiss. “You’re mine tonight,” he said, lifting you by the chin as he continued kissing you, “All mine.” He turned to his brothers, “You two enjoy the rest of your evening.” 
Turning with you in his arms, his lips went right back to yours. His hunger for you showed in the harsh kisses and soft grunts. He clawed at pieces of clothing until they nearly ripped, tossing them aside in the hallway. Fire ignited inside the both of you. You drowned yourself in his warmth and scent, as you’d done with his brothers. Being in his arms reminded you of all the random encounters you’d have in your previous life. The hot guys you met at bars or clubs often ended up in your bed late at night. This was the same except the man holding you up against the staircase landing was a demon. A demon who owned you now. He could do whatever he liked with you, and you couldn’t resist him. 
Not that you wanted to, anyway.
His thigh between your legs, he tugged down your bra and sucked your nipples firmly. He unclasped the garment, then flung it to a corner of the staircase before guiding you up the stairs to the second floor. Once there, against the railing, Hongjoong licked down to your panties and tore them off. By the time you reached the bedroom door, you were completely naked. 
San preferred bright, vintage colors. Seonghwa favored the decadence and refinement of old money. Hongjoong, on the other hand, embraced his demonic side. Crimson walls with black bat motifs flying around blooming roses covered the room from black border to border. Red cushions were upholstered by black wood, and black furry rugs covered the hardwood floors. On the walls, Hongjoong hung paintings of various erotic scenes and displayed statues of half naked figures in suggestive poses. You also couldn't help noticing the armoire pressed against a wall.
“Stay here,” he placed a few more kisses on your lips before leaving you for the tall wardrobe. He opened the top drawer, sliding on a pair of black latex gloves as he perused the contents inside. The aching he left behind felt cold and empty. “From the moment you step into my apartment, I want you naked the entire time. It makes things easier in the long run, you know?”
“Yes, Master.”
Standing in the cold room, you wished he'd let you stand by the crackling fireplace. The sudden heat he’d fanned died the longer he made you wait. You thought about touching yourself to keep it going, but that might upset Hongjoong. You looked him over once more. His whip hung from his belt loop casually, like a piece of jewelry or a fashion accessory. He likely wore it to scare the other servants in the house. It certainly sent shivers up your spine. When he finally made his decision, he brought out a wrist and ankle cuff set to you. Black with furry edges, you saw the loops on the inner parts of the cuffs. 
“Hold out your wrists.”
You held them out and he placed one on each wrist. Tightening the belt, he asked you, “Is it too tight?”
“No.”
“Alright, good. Your ankles.”
He put similar cuffs around both ankles, and he withdrew a matching leash from his back pocket. He clasped it to your collar. You worried the slightest tug might break the fine lace, but Hongjoong tested this with a few light pulls. Deciding it was durable enough, he wrapped the end of the leash around his hand. 
“This way,” he said. 
You went with him to the middle of the room where he could admire you in the firelight. Round eyes scanned over your face and body, as if truly seeing you for the first time. 
“You really are the most beautiful human I've seen,” he concluded, eyes clouded by lust as he continued eyeing your body. He removed his whip from his belt and walked towards you. He trailed the end of the whip from your cleavage to the middle of your thighs lightly, the touch making you shudder. “And so responsive too,” he sneered, “I like that.” He stepped closer to you, “I like the loud ones. Whimpering and whining always turns me on, but screaming? Crying? Pleading? That…” he huffed a laugh, “That gets me going.” He let the fringes of his whip swing over your thighs ominously. Hongjoong drew closer, lips pressed to your ear, “Will you scream for me, Pet?”
“If you…wish, Master.”
He chuckled darkly, sending more nerves up your spine. He waved his leather whip over your nipples next, pleased as they slowly hardened. 
“Don’t you have a schedule for me?” you asked, knowing it’d come sooner or later.
“Schedule?” he asked, confused. 
“Yeah, your brothers had these schedules for me to follow on my days with them. I thought you had one too?”
“Do you want one?”
“What else would I do on your days otherwise?”
“Me,” he said slyly, pecking your lips. “But, I suppose you should have some kind of structure. Seonghwa is always saying stuff like ‘idle hands make idle minds’ or something dumb like that,” he shook his head, “I didn’t really want much from you other than you submitting to me, which clearly isn’t going to be a problem.” He thought about it while he traced your curves with his whip, “Training could be a thing.”
“Training?”
“Anal training, throat training, pain resistance training, and something else,” he waved it off, “I don’t know yet.”
“You don’t have to give me one, if you’d rather not.”
“No, no, I’ll think of something eventually. You do need a proper routine,” he said. “All pets need good training. How else are you going to serve me properly?” An idea then came to him, “I can ask Yunho! He’s good at discipline and he’d love to teach you. Perhaps Mingi? But he might get caught up in the pleasure of it, and Yunho is bigger than him so he can train your holes properly.” He thought about it quietly, idly brushing you with his whip. “Eh, I’ll consider it. Sit with me for a bit,” he said, bringing you over to the loveseat in front of the fire. 
Pulling you onto his lap, he gently ran his fingers up and down your bare legs lazily. Coming up to your thighs, he gave the outer one a tender squeeze. His touch kindled the burning embers within you. You leaned to kiss him softly, tasting the leftover wine and feeling his tongue on yours. Kissing your masters quickly became your favorite thing.
“I feel like I’ve hardly scratched the surface with you,” he said, breaking away from you, “While my brothers find out all kinds of stuff about you.”
“What would you like to know?” you asked, already sensing the question. 
“Kinkiest thing you’ve ever done. Go.” 
“Ugh,” you thought about it with distaste, “You’d think it’s tame.”
“Tell me anyways,” he encouraged. 
“I had sex in my office in front of the big windows looking at the building across the street.”
“Hm,” he considered it, then said, “That is incredibly tame.”
“Told you. What about you?”
“Huh, I’m not sure,” he mused. “I haven’t really thought about it before…”
“Grossest thing then.”
“Golden shower?” he guessed. “We pissed on her.”
“Did you like that?” You hoped not. 
“Not really, no,” he shook his head. “I realized then I’m not into watersports like that. I don’t rag on people who do, but it’s not for me really.” He then thought for a moment, “I did jerk off to one of the maids trying to hold her pee in until she couldn’t hold it anymore and pissed on herself.”
“Gross,” you said with disgust. 
“I’m just saying I did it. I wouldn’t do it again, since the smell started bugging me, but I did it. Would you…Are you into that?”
“No,” you said right away. 
“You wouldn’t even want to try it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“It’s gross, that’s why.”
“Huh…That’s a shame.”
“You said you wouldn’t do it again!”
“With her!” he elaborated. “I wouldn’t mind watching you do that. I’ll let you wear underwear for it, if you want-”
“-Ew, gross.” 
“You’re lucky you’re even getting a choice in that.”
“Anything you don’t like in particular?” when he did not answer immediately, you giggled, “That few things, huh?”
“Yeah,” he laughed, nodding as he continued thinking. You couldn’t help laughing with him. “Yeah, I think so!” The two of you laughed together until he said, “Animals, I suppose, if I have to pick something.”
“Really?”
“Why do you say ‘really’ like that?” He said, “Do you like animals like that?”
“Of course not!” you laughed. “I thought you’d be an animal guy.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“Because you get turned on by the most vile things,” you said. “You seem like the kind of guy who tries everything at least once. I assumed animals were on that list.”
“I have,” he admitted. “Not personally, but I watched some people and it grossed me out too so I stole the horse and set their house on fire.”
“What did you do with the horse?”
“Set it free. This was in the living world, so I don’t know. He went wherever horses go, I guess.” He watched you laugh as he said, “I like to try new things. Sometimes those things are a bit ‘out there’. When you’ve been around as long as me, you get bored of stuff really easily.”
“So, you’re saying you’ll get bored of me?” you pouted cutely.
“Not at all,” he said, pecking your lips softly. “I finally have someone to test out new kinks with. We can explore things together and see what we like.” He felt up your side to your chest, brushing a thumb over your nipple, “There are so many things I’d love to do with you, pet.”
“Like what?” you moved from your sitting position to straddling his lap. You felt the seam of his zipper pushing to your pussy, and it reignited the flames. “I’d like to know unless you’d rather keep me in suspense.”
“I’d start off gentle, of course,” he said. “But, I’ve always wanted to try aquaphilia.”
“Aqua-what?”
“It usually involves like swimming or posing underwater, but I’ve always wanted to have sex in water, but we’re in Hell and there’s no fucking bodies of water in Hell!” he said sharply. “Explain how we have water for drinking and bathing, but there are no lakes or oceans or anything. How can I live out my dreams if my world is holding me back?!” 
“Can’t you go to the living world, though?”
“Every hundred years.”
“How long has it been since you last went?”
“Fifty!” he lamented sulkily. 
“You might be able to eventually…” you slowly ran your hands down his arms, letting him enjoy your soft touch. “It sounds fun.”
“It probably is!” He put his hands on your hips, his latex gloves smooth on your skin. Thumbs rubbing back and forth, he continued, “I'd like to fuck in a coffin one day.”
“A coffin?”
“Or a small closet,” he added. “You know, a confined space where we're trapped together? It'd be hot.” He moved closer to peck at your shoulder. “Have you ever done BDSM before?” He asked, kissing up your neck to your ear. 
“Not the way you likely do, Master.”
He chuckled, “I bet not. I imagine it was a little bit of rope or some light spanking?”
“Yes.”
“Did you like that?”
“At the time.”
“Do you think you’ll like it with me?”
“I know I will, sir.”
“Oh? How?”
“You sound like you'd know what you're doing,” you said, leaning closer to him. “And do I honestly have a choice?”
“Not really no,” he said, leaning to meet you. Inches from you, you saw the swirls of crimson in his brown eyes. Demon blood. A pure blooded demon. “But, doesn't that make it more fun? Knowing you can't say no to me?”
“For you, perhaps. I am your slave, sir. I can only do my best to please you.”
“Spoken like a broken slut,” he said proudly. 
“Do you like that?” You asked, fingers tracing the collar of his shirt. “Or would you prefer I was the high-spirited sinner you like to break?”
“How about tonight,” he took your hand to hold and kiss, “You be a good slut and let me have my way?” 
“If that's what pleases you,” you said. 
“Oh, it'd please me greatly.” He gave your thigh a slight tap, “Come, let me show you around.”
He led you by your leash into a brightly lit room. Seeing the various bondage equipment and walls of sex toys and instruments, you saw the dungeon Hongjoong built. Long chains and ropes hung from hooks on the ceiling, and you gulped at the clasps hanging from the ends. Hongjoong loosened the leash to let you roam and observe the various pieces: the wooden horse, the chair, the x-cross, the stockade, and the tall cage with a smaller counterpart. Certain pieces of furniture had hooks nailed to them for sexual and practical use. You examined the wall of sex toys. Hanging from a bar, he displayed all manner of whips, chains, paddles and belts alongside a case of toys in various shapes and colors. Hongjoong no doubt planned on using all of these on you at some point. 
“What do you think?” He asked, playing with your leash around his hand. 
“It's extensive,” you answered honestly. You took out a long wooden switch he kept inside a vase in the corner. You bent it slightly just because you could. This would definitely hurt. 
“I like variety,” he answered.
You put the switch back. “Have you used all of these before?”
“At one time or another,” he said. “My brothers don't like it as much as me, but they enjoy my toy collection. San thought I didn't know that he’d steal my dildos and vibrators. I told him if he ever wanted to use one, he could ask and I'd gladly help.” You heard him walk up behind you, lips softly pecking your neck, “We can use them on him together sometime. If you're a good girl, I'll even let you use them on your own.” His whip sailed down your spine to the crack of your ass. He let it swish over the backs of your thighs, so you trembled. “San told me Yunho watched you two fuck this morning. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“Did you like it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you fuck him too?”
“No. He only watched.”
“Hm, good to know.” He slid the handle of his whip over your ass and right to your sex again. “I'd love to fuck you in front of all of them sometime. They already go through peepholes around the house, but I mean doing it in front of them.” The ridges of the handle brushed over your slit once or twice, having you gasp when he pulled it back. “I'll let you pick tonight: where would you like it?”
“Your bed?” You asked, hoping it was an option.
“Then my bed it is. You go ahead,” he said, “I'll pick out fun things for us to use.”
You walked back into his bedroom, taking a seat on the corner of the bed. The soft crimson sheets and covers molded to your position, the fabric lightly pressed to your wet sex. You started grinding against the bed, eager for relief in the gradual motions. Hands cupping your breasts, you played with your nipples as you quietly humped the bed. It was then that someone appeared from the shadows. 
“-Master Hongjoong, I thought you should know…Oh, wow…” 
Mingi stood in the corner of the room, hidden halfway in the shadows before he stepped out of them. His eyes glued themselves to your naked body, illuminated by the fire near the bed. You stopped moving right away, removing your hands and keeping them at your sides. 
“Where’s Ma-Master Hongjoong?” he asked, gulping. 
“In the other room,” you answered, “Getting some things for me.”
“Is he?” he breathed, biting the inside of his cheek. “That’s…I will be going then. I’ll come back, um, later. You know, when you’re not…like this.”
“Does her nakedness bother you, Mingi?” 
Hongjoong entered the room, a black bag in one hand and a small wooden paddle in the other. Eyes twinkling with delight, he kept them on Mingi while he placed the items on the bed. He cupped your chin and kissed you, flicking your bottom lip and capturing it with his mouth. 
“Um, sir?” Mingi said bewildered, confused by the question. 
“The naked form is one of the most natural things in the world,” he said. He reached into the bag and withdrew a pair of small nipple clamps. “Just like sex. It’s part of who we are. Whether you’re a demon, a human, or something else, sexual desire is inherent. Our society wouldn’t exist without it.” 
He put one of the clamps on each of your nipples, creating a never ending whirl of pleasure. He guided you over to the headboard on your back. There, he attached your handcuffs to the middle where he'd nailed a small hook. He used belts to keep your knees attached to a harness he put around your waist. This made your lower half completely vulnerable to him. Mingi’s mouth opened at the sight of you. His eyes raked over you, seeing your tight ass and soaked pussy splayed out for his viewing pleasure. 
“Being naked is how we’re meant to be,” Hongjoong said, sliding his hand across your breasts to squeeze one of them. “It’s how pleasure slaves are meant to be,” he pushed back your hair, admiring your face as he pushed a thumb past your lips. He exhaled deeply at the lips sucking his thumb so willingly. “See? She has only been here a day, and she’s already giving into her natural instincts. She’s fucked both her masters, let Jongho and Yunho jerk off to her, and gave Yeosang and Wooyoung handjobs. She’s so eager,” his mouth opened when you stuck your tongue out for him to slide over, “And horny. So, I’ll ask you again, soldier: Does her nakedness bother you?”
“Not…Not at all, sir.”
Being tied added to the tension from your arousal. A bout of excitement hit you as you dreamed up his plans. You had your fair share of BDSM sessions, so you weren't a complete novice. Yet, something about Hongjoong's casual tone and the way he secured you comfortably told you you're in the hands of an expert. With you settled, Hongjoong's hand went down from your knee to your inner thigh. 
Hongjoong laughed, moving from your mouth to your center. “Don’t act like such a saint, Mingi. She isn’t the first slave you’ve helped me with before.” The smooth gloves kept a thin layer between the two of you, your wetness making it easier for him to slide around. You gave a soft whine, feeling his fingers trace your slit. “I know how much you like tying up those leftovers the servants get, and using them however you wish. I’ve seen what they look like afterwards.”
“That’s different, sir. Those are pleasure slaves from brothels,” he said. “She’s yours. I wouldn’t dare touch something that is yours.” 
“I’ve never been one to deny someone their most basic want,” Hongjoong grinned when you pushed your hips to his light fingers. “See? Pet isn’t afraid to give in to what she wants. Why do you hesitate?”
“As I said, she is your property. If it were a case of her being a leftover or a brothel girl, I wouldn’t.”
“Would you be content with watching, perhaps? I love an audience,” he rubbed his hand over your pussy a few times before giving it a sharp smack, “And so does Pet. You can even use the vibrator sleeves I have.”
“That would be delightful, sir,” he said, slowly moving to a chair and bringing it to the bed. He angled himself to sit across from you, “She is nice to watch.”
“Very. Now, what should I use first?”
“I think something simple,” Mingi suggested, “It is her first time.”
“Right you are.”
He withdrew a silver anal plug, and a bottle of lubricant. “I want you to stay put for me,” he said when he poured small droplets onto your pussy, then spread them further down. “Don’t move a single muscle, understand?”
He smiled when you nodded. You knew that would be almost impossible for you. He worked you up too much for you to hold it off. Using the plug, Hongjoong spread the lube from your sensitive clit to your clenching asshole. Breathing heavily, chest rising and falling, you anticipated the rush of pleasure coming your way. The pointed tip ran around your hole, smearing more lubricant before starting to penetrate you. A thumb rubbing your clit, it added to the mounting pleasure. You had the urge to move up into it, but your position made that difficult. 
“No moving,” Hongjoong said, giving your pussy a hard spank that only served to arouse you further. 
Hongjoong moved the plug little by little: he'd stick it halfway in before pulling it back out. Whether he did it out of caution or torture, either way you died for him to do more. He continued pushing the plug in and out, sometimes sinking it fully inside and other times halfway. You couldn’t keep still for him this time. The desperation flowed through you each time the toy filled you. 
“What did I say?” he asked, smacking your pussy two more times. “Huh? What did I say?”
“Not to move,” you sniffled. 
“Then don’t move. I won’t hesitate to flip you over and spank you. Do it again and I stop.”
“No, no,” you shook your head, “Don’t stop.”
“Then behave and do what I say.” He went back to the plug, groaning when he sunk it inside you. You nearly writhed in his hold, but you stayed firm against the bed. “She looks pretty like this, huh?”
“Very, sir.”
“Mingi, sit closer. You can't see how wet she is from there.”
Mingi sat at the edge of the bed. He stayed focused on your center, marveling at the anal plug nestled in you. You breathed heavily through your nose when you heard the buzzing of a vibrator nearby. An average size and the color of emeralds, the vibrator started where the plug sat. This turned the stable plug into its own vibrator, sending subtle sparks to your pussy. Your thighs quaked at the low humming, feeling it rumble up into your body from the small toy. Lifting your legs higher out of habit, the toy suddenly turned off. 
“Roll over, slut.”
“Master, wait-”
“-It seems I’m going to have to teach you how to follow orders.”
With impressive strength, Hongjoong rolled you onto your front. The position kept your face halfway buried in his pillows and your ass in the air. You gasped once something hard and cold made circles on your left buttock. Heartbeat pounding in your ears, your body tensed at the first soft hit. Fingernails pressing into your palms, you cried out as he landed a second spank to your right cheek. After three more hits, Hongjoong increased the harshness. The paddle, likely thin and long, covered both cheeks easily. You could feel its length in every spank. Some smacks later, he went harder. The repeated slaps left a stinging burn on your skin. They reach down to your thighs at some points. The pain only radiated your arousal more. Each time the hard wood hit your center, you received a little pleasure with the sting. Every spank rocked through your body, displeasing Hongjoong. 
“I told you not to move,” he said as he spanked you again, “And you’re still doing it. You slum sluts really are empty headed, huh?” You screamed as he made several hard hits, shaking in place. “I’m only going to keep going. I can do this all night.” 
You planted yourself firmly on the bed. Tears filled your eyes from the pain, streaming onto the satin pillow. You could feel your orgasm building from the continued hitting. He must have known the effect, since he occasionally slid the paddle up your dripping pussy before spanking it. Gripping the headboard chains tightly, you channeled the pain into your hands instead, holding them tightly to keep yourself steady. 
“And to think you told me you’d be a good girl,” Hongjoong scolded. “I’m not sure if you know this, but good girls do what they’re told.” He spanked you again, so hard it vibrated everywhere. “Bad girls get spanked and teased to the edge. Isn’t that right, Mingi?”
“Too right.” 
“So, what are we going to do, whore?”
“Be a good girl,” you whimpered, crying when he slapped your ass again. “I’ll be good. I promise, Master.”
“That’s what you said when you humped me like a damn dog,” he laid more spanks that had you screaming into the pillow. Sobbing, you held onto the chains until your knuckles whitened. “Promise me you’ll stay still. I can’t fuck you if you’re moving around like this.”
“I-I promise.”
The vibrator returned, the round head swishing lightly over your clit. The mixture of pain and pleasure worked deep in your core, having you moaning into the pillow. When a hand pulled at your hair, lifting your face from the bed, Hongjoong pressed the vibrator fully against you. He chuckled at the constant cries coming through your throat. He and Mingi listened as the volume and pressure had you either giving low hums or loud groaning. You screamed from the sparks the vibrator created when directly on your clit. Yet, the entire time, you kept yourself from moving even an inch. You still ached from the spanking, and the now position buried the plug deeper into your ass. When he rapidly moved the vibrator around, you wept openly at the overwhelming pleasure. 
Then, you heard the rough pulling of tape from behind you. Shaking your head, you knew exactly what your master had planned. The vibrator, likely an egg shaped bullet toy, stayed firmly inside you. Then, you felt the presence of paper tape across your thighs. The tape kept the egg nestled between your folds and created a new sensation. 
Hongjoong then whipped at your thighs and calves. You heard the crack of his personal whip on your skin, the tips slapping your tender flesh. Behind you, deep low moans started faintly reaching you. 
“You enjoy watching me hurt them, don’t you?” Hongjoong asked, amused by Mingi’s reaction. 
“I love…I love to hear them cry. Seeing them tear up as I’m spanking or whipping them just…Fuck, it gets me so hard so fast.”
“You hear that?” he bent down to your ear, tapping the egg with his whip, “Mingi likes watching pretty girls cry. Are you going to cry for him?” When you didn’t answer, he dug the bullet further inside you. “Are you?”
“Yes, yes!”
Quickly, Hongjoong unchained you from the headboard, and chained your wrists close together instead. Bringing you towards Mingi, he lifted your head so the bodyguard saw your tear streaked face. He pumped himself faster, moaning in every stroke as he looked at you. Hongjoong straddled your knees, removed your plug and filled your ass with something larger. Mingi groaned when he realized what Hongjoong had done. 
“Oh,” he breathed, “The tentacle one.”
Hongjoong cackled, “One of the longer ones I have. Her ass was so tight last night, it milked every drop out of me.” 
“Green-Gr-Greenho-house,” Mingi managed to get out, “You should take her there. She’d love it.”
“A very good idea,” he agreed, pushing the dildo in and out of you to create more pleasure. “I'll keep that in mind.”
You clung to the edge of the bed as the two toys worked together to bring you to the edge. Right when you thought you might combust, Hongjoong withdrew the dildo and shut off the vibrator. The squeal of frustration you let out amused both men. Mingi kept stroking himself and Hongjoong spanked your ass lightly. 
“You didn’t think you’d get to cum that easily, did you?” he mocked you, cackling at your shivering body. “No, no, no, pet,” he ran his hands up your back and into your hair, tugging at the roots on your scalp, “I’m having way too much fun to stop now. You’re cumming when I want you to.” 
He chained you to the bars above the bed, leaving you dangling from the middle bar in a kneeling position. From the bag, he withdrew a dildo attached to a small machine. Hongjoong slipped the flesh colored dildo between your thighs and pushed it up into you. Mingi and him moaned together when the small machine began thrusting the toy inside you at a steady pace. The absolute euphoria of it blinded you to all sense. The cooldown of your orgasm slowly heated back up as the toy pushed into your g-spot repeatedly. Hongjoong allowed you to quake and tremble above the machine, and enjoyed the effect the vibrating egg had when he turned it on. Tears came down your cheeks, and you wriggled around with hopes of being allowed an orgasm. 
It didn’t happen. Hongjoong raised the speed and he laughed when you pathetically begged for him to let you cum. 
“I don’t want to yet,” he said, grabbing his whip out of habit. Swinging it across your lower stomach, a few strips caught between your legs. When you jerked at the slight sting, he continued doing it. “It’s fun watching you scream for me,” he said, laughing through clenched jaws as he turned up the speed on both toys. “Scream,” he whipped you, “Scream for me!”
You tugged at your chains as an orgasm hurled its way towards you. Shaking and crying, you sobbed when he turned off your stimulants right at the last moment. “Master! Please!” you wept, your pussy feeling empty and painful from the fierce edging. 
He lowered your chains to bend you forward, your arms now behind you and suspending your top half from the bed. “Suck Mingi’s cock,” he said, “And I’ll think about it.”
Mingi did not hesitate to yank down his pants and kneel in front of you. Grabbing the back of your head, he sunk deep into your mouth until he reached your throat. The dildo began pumping in and out from this new angle, and you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning around the dick in your mouth. Mingi proved merciless like his master. Holding your hair back, he held you in place as he fucked your throat. He didn’t care about the constant gagging, the strings of drool or your throaty moans. He pushed in and out like any other hole in your body. This had you groaning and whimpering. You loved the feeling of being used. It felt nice to not think for a while. Being at the mercy of horny incubi brought you close to an orgasm again. Hongjoong tapping his own cock against your gaped ass hole nearly made you cum. 
You let out a yelp when he plunged into it, fists keeping him propped up as he took you. Having Mingi filling your mouth, the toy filling your pussy and Hongjoong in your ass left you a whining, mewling mess. This pleased both men, causing them to pick up their pace. When Mingi withdrew to let you breathe, he slapped his wet dick against your cheeks hard. The thick muscle burned your jaw and throat, but you wanted more. 
“Spit on it, slut.”
You spat on it, thick drool and precum sliding onto his head. You stuck your tongue out to receive it, but instead Mingi slapped you again on the opposite cheek. The sticky mess smeared on your cheeks, mouth and nose as Mingi whacked your face. Their shared laughter at your expense left you shivering. 
“Just another dirty hole,” Hongjoong grunted, holding you by the waist as he thrusted into you. “That’s all you fucking are at the end of the day: a pretty set of holes for us to use. You’re going to have a lot of fun here…So much fun…Would you like that?” he slapped your ass hard, “Huh?”
“Yes,” you said, the answer muffled by Mingi sticking himself back into your mouth. “Yes, Master.”
“She sounds cute when she’s being gagged,” Mingi moaned, returning to fucking your face. “It almost makes me wish she were another slum slut from the city. Then I could…I could fuck her however I wanted.”
“And how would you do that, Mingi?” Hongjoong pulled out of you, but turned on the vibrator still taped to your clit. Unable to push into the sex machine, you hung there and let it keep going. 
“Lock her in a cage,” he said, “And use her holes whenever I feel like it. Whip her. Shock her. Bring her to the edge over and over. Take her to the greenhouse…watch Dennis fuck her until she’s nothing but a broken bitch for me. That’s what I like, sir: broken whores who don’t know anything other than how to take cock.”
“We really are kindred spirits,” Hongjoong smiled. 
You don’t know how long they went at you. You only knew the two demons did whatever they could to keep you on edge, crying and screaming for mercy. When Hongjoong finally filled your pussy himself, he kept the vibrator going the entire time. Cradled in his lap, he pushed up into you while Mingi used your limp hand to jerk himself with. Both men knew exactly how to keep you hanging on. It’s as if they could each see inside your deepest desires, and twist them to their advantage. You thought the torture might never end. You thought you might simply be forced to near orgasm over and over until the end of time. Body gleaming with sweat, hair frizzy and messy, and the scent of semen and sex on you made you a pitiful sight. You could hardly stay up long enough to ride Hongjoong after a while. 
You never thought they’d let you cum until Hongjoong had you pounded into the mattress. Mingi, close to orgasm, toyed with the bullet attached to you as he stroked his wet cock. You almost did not want to for fear of them denying you again. Sobbing out of desperation, you laid there with your legs chained to the bars, your hand being used like a toy and let Hongjoong work himself out on you. 
“You can cum now, pet,” he said, bending down to finally kiss you. “I promise you can.” He lifted your hips and slammed directly into you. “You can cum, I swear. I want to hear you cum for me, baby. My sweet, slutty, empty-headed baby,” he kissed down your neck comfortingly, palming your sore breasts and playing with your clamped nipples. 
“N-N-No,” you wept. “You’ll take it away.”
“I won’t, baby,” he kissed down to your nipples. He removed one clamp to replace it with his mouth. “Cum for me.” 
Reluctantly, you allowed your climax to wash over you. Shaking, trembling, burning and aching, your moans could be heard from down the hall. That same strange shooting feeling from before happened. Clear cum shot and around Hongjoong's cock. You squirted again and this took Hongjoong to a new plane of bliss. Keeping himself balanced on one arm, he grabbed your tit and thrusted deep into you. You would’ve thought he wanted to ensure his semen rooted inside you. That alone prolonged your climax. Mingi, you saw, came with both of you, white streaks falling onto his exposed stomach. 
When the desire finally passed, Hongjoong unchained you. “Yun…Yunho,” he breathed out tiredly, “Yunho!”
In a single puff of smoke, Yunho appeared beside the bed. “You called, Master?”
“Bring water, a sponge, some healing cream,” he laid beside you, sweaty and exhausted, “Honeyed tea, and a snack for Pet. She’s…had a rough night.”
“As you wish.”
“You can go with him, Mingi,” Hongjoong said, eyes shutting. “You did well.”
“Thank you for the opportunity, Master.”
Mingi slowly slid off the bed, straightening himself up as he followed Yunho from the room. Alone with Hongjoong, you laid in the bed while he carefully removed the taped bullet. Lazily, he pushed all the devices to the side to be collected later, and used a hand cloth to wipe excess fluids from you. 
“Are you alright, Pet?” he asked, kissing your forehead before wiping it with the damp cloth. 
“Ye-yes,” you croaked, allowing yourself to give in to your exhaustion. 
“Yunho’s bringing a few things to take care of you,” he said. “I’m so proud of my sweet girl.” He brought you close to him, pecking your forehead again, “I thought for sure you’d cum before I asked. I didn’t know you’d hold it for so long like that.”
“It hurts,” you pouted, rolling onto your side and feeling the soreness in the front and back. 
“I’ll take care of that for you. Just stay up a bit longer so we can get some tea for your throat. Don’t talk too much or you’ll strain it more. Gosh, Mingi went quite hard,” he said, massaging your throat for you. “Perhaps I’ll let him just watch next time. My horny side gets caught in the heat of the moment sometimes. My poor pet,” he sighed, hugging you to him. “Did you like it?”
You only nodded, not wanting to make your throat worse. You truly had enjoyed it, edging and all. You’d never done anything like it, and it left you floating on clouds. Shutting your eyes, you didn’t notice Yunho reappearing with the items his master requested. You opened your mouth to sip the hot tea, and nibbled on the apple slices and almonds at Hongjoong’s insistence. The real relief came when Hongjoong began sponge cleaning you. His gentle hands held you so delicately, like you might break if he handled you too roughly. Applying a cold lotion to your more tender parts you melted with ease. It tingled your entrances, and soothed the heat radiating from your ass and thighs. 
“Sleep now, pet,” he said, pecking your shoulder blades and bringing you to him again. “You can sleep in as long as you want tomorrow. Seonghwa can start his morning without you for a bit.” 
“Thank you, Master.”
You turned to snuggle into him, finally falling asleep in his arms. 
***
Y/N: woo that was intense! I think it's one of my more intense smut scenes to be honest. I'm so glad you guys are liking this series of mine! remember to like and reblog (leave a comment if you want). <3
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margotw10bis · 1 day
Text
Crashing On Crush.JJK [m] 10
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crush!Jungkook x reader
Genre: smut; series; romance; angst
Words: 5k
Synopsis: What happens when your first encounter with your crush is Jungkook seeing your ass?
Warnings: protected sex; light biting; oral sex (f. receiving); masturbating; angst (xenophobia)
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All the little everyday life things has been better. You could delude yourself and try to find some ridiculous explanations in the astral sky but you know damn well the real reason: Jeon Jungkook. Your bed has never felt better than when you are in it with him. Falling asleep and waking up with him feel good.
You wake up wrapped by warmth. Two reasons of it: your sheets and Jungkook's arms. He is spooning you in the most delicate way but you do feel something hard against your ass. You press against it a little bit to be sure but there is no doubt it's Jungkook's big cock in the early morning. Feeling your pretty butt on his dick is the best awakening possible for Jungkook. He softly moans into your ears and wraps his arms tighter around your frame. You immediately get aroused and push your ass even more on his body.
Jungkook gets the hint and he starts grinding on you. You clearly feel how deliciously hard he is. Fuck, it feels good. Your pussy is getting wetter and wetter and you can't wait to have it filled by Jungkook. He caresses your breasts, sneaking a hand underneath your t-shirt. He gives you delicate kisses on your shoulder and you moan at the pleasure. Your hand leads up to find his messy yet soft hair. The delicious tension is building up inside you, making a mess out of your panties.
"I want you" You confess, your hands caressing his forearms around your stomach
Morning sex is one of the things you love the most because it feels more intimate since it means you've spent the night together.
"Anything my baby want" Jungkook replies so softly that you melt but his voice is deep and raspy too, echoing right into your core
His palms slowly separate so one goes up to squeeze your boob and the other one heads South to caress your pussy through your clothes. Your head roll back into his chest and Jungkook starts kissing your neck. You love feeling his mouth on your skin, his lips are as soft as clouds. Little moans form in your mouth to escape right after.
"Fuck me, Kook" You gently order - or more like beg - him
It's the first time you call him 'Kook' and he loves it. His nickname has never sounded so harmonious and he wants more of it. He wants you to cum screaming it so your neighbors know how good he makes you feel. His damn possessiveness is never too far when it comes to you. A raspy growl from Jungkook echoes in your whole body and his hands quickly peal you bare. Each layer of clothes slipping down your body arouses you more.
"Grab a condom" He asks you and you move fast to take it in your nightstand
Jungkook can't resist your perfect ass on display while you're searching for the condom on all fours. He smirks when he remembers your first encounter. Your fucking pretty ass right in front of him, he could have fucked you right there. As he can't go back in time, he sticks to the present and offers you a slap on your asscheek. You gasp of surprise and pleasure. You turn just to see the playful grin on Jungkook's face.
It doesn't take long for Jungkook to cover his cock and to press his member between your folds. He is still behind you, spooning you, and sneaks an arm under your upper leg, right behind your kneel, to have a better access to your pretty pussy. Fuck, his dick slides upon your cunt, meeting your clit every time. Your whimpers urge Jungkook to enter you already. He does while he bites on your shoulder.
Being filled by Jungkook's dick is perfect. Your walls are stretched just like you love and the angle is perfect to provide you pleasure. He nestles deep inside you to give you time to adapt. He doesn't stop kissing your neck, the wet patches he leaves on your skin make you shiver. You whimper when the need of friction becomes painful. When it comes to sex, you feel like you don't even need to speak. Jungkook seems to know your body as well as you do and starts providing you the delicious and necessary poundings. But his slow pace is driving you crazy. You missed him inside you and he is taking his time.
"Faster" You ask but Jungkook does the opposite, torturing you with slower moves
Your hands grab his forearm around your frame to urge him but it doesn't do anything. Jungkook smirks to witness you this desperate. When he gently bites your earlobe and completely stops his moves, you almost cry.
"Kook, please" Your voice is shaky and clearly begging him to fuck you
"I love when you beg for my cock" He says with a raspy and sexy voice
The magic word was just what he needed. Not only Jungkook slides again into you, but his poundings become rough. Each time his cock hits deep inside you, making your tits bounce and your ass slapped. His hard and big member gives you so much pleasure that your eyes roll in the back of your head. Your moans are unsteady and you can't even think straight, especially when Jungkook start playing with your nipple with his tattooed hand. His other hand has a deep grabbing into your flesh and you're pretty sure you'll have bruises.
"You like that?" He almost growls in your ear
He surely knows the answer by the sinful noises coming from your mouth and the way your pussy clench around him but he wants you to say it out loud.
"Yes, yes!" You repeat in a delirious state due to Jungkook's poundings
When he changes his pace to slow down but to penetrate you harder and deeper, the air is kicked out of your lungs. Your mouth open but no moan form. Your eyes water with the pleasure. A delicious slap on your ass forces you to mutter your loud groans into your pillow.
"No, I want to hear you" Jungkook states "You're taking me so fucking good"
He forces you to let your moans fill the room by grabbing your throat. He doesn't really apply any pressure but his large palm around your breathing column is fucking hot. He uses his hand to slightly turn your head so he can kiss you. The position makes it difficult, resulting in a messy kiss that only arouses you more.
Your walls tighten when your orgasm is not so far away.
"Fuck, I love your pussy, babe. Could fuck it all day long"
Jungkook's praises do nothing to delay your cumming but you don't want the pleasure to stop. You hold his wrist like a lifeline and urge him to fuck you harder. The slight change of angle to enhance the pace provokes Jungkook's cock to hit your g-spot.
"Oh my god! Here!"
You sound like a lunatic. You're so loud, you're sure your neighbors can hear you but you can't care about it right now. On the other hand, your moans are like music to Jungkook's ears. He is addicted to them and he wants more. His hand leaves your thigh and dangerously heads closer to your crotch. It doesn't take long for you to feel small circles on your clit. You're feeling Jungkook inside and outside your pussy and it's almost unbearable. He is fucking you so well you could cry.
"Fuck, Kook, I'm gonna cum" You moan, eyes filled with tears
"Go ahead, cum for me, babe. Be a good girl"
Jungkook's raspy voice, his dick hitting hard your sweet-spot, his hand around your throat and his delicate digits working of your clit are way too much for you. The tsunami of pleasure washes over you. Your toes curl and your body shakes in Jungkook's embrase. You scream his nickname and let your head rest on your pillow, exhausted by your high.
Jungkook slows down his pace once again and kisses your shoulder to soothe you after your orgasm. His hand is no longer around your throat but caresses your cheek. The gesture is soft and you take his hand to kiss it. You're so good to him that his heart is squeezing in his chest despite its erratic pace due to his physical efforts.
"I want you to cum" You say with your sexually intoxicated mind
"I'll be more than happy to" Jungkook smirks
His poundings regain their animalistic pace but you're way more sensitive after your orgasm. Your whimpers make Jungkook so fucking horny. If he weren't afraid to break you, he'll fuck you even harder to make you scream his name. He wonders how your delicate body can take his big dick so perfectly, just like you were made for him. To be honest, he truly believes he was made for you.
"Open your pretty mouth" He orders
You don't think twice and obey. Jungkook slides two inked digits into your mouth, making you drool. You suck on his fingers to mutter your moans. The velvety and wet muscle on his fingers makes his dick throb inside your pussy.
"That's it, babe. You're so naughty for me" He teases you but it only makes your pussy clench around his big cock "Fuck, babe, you're so tight"
His pace becomes unsteady and you know he is close. Your hand finds the one that was staying on your stomach to guide it towards your clit. You make Jungkook rub your clit but your own fingers stay upon his hand to set the rhythm. Jungkook presses even harder on your bud and you moan around his fingers. You can't see it but Jungkook is looking at you with awe: you're so fucking hot. Your both hands working on your clit are dangerous for your sanity.
"Fucking cum again. Come on, cum on my cock, I know you can do it" His voice is nothing gentle, he is ordering you and how can you disobey such a great command?
Why are Jungkook's words so scandalous yet so arousing? Your second orgasm overpowers you but thanks to his fingers in your mouth, your screams are shuttered. It doesn't make long for Jungkook to join you on cloud nine. You are both panting and neither of you want to move. Jungkook frees your mouth only to kiss you but he is staying deep inside your warm pussy which occasionally clenches around his dick, preventing it to truly soften.
"That was hot" Jungkook comments, making your giggle
"It was, indeed"
"You were perfect" He says tenderly, pecking your shoulder and your cheek a hundred of times
You love how sweet Jungkook is. His long and messy hair are tickling you. But suddenly reality hits you back. You quickly grab your phone and gasp when you notice what time is it. You need to hurry and grab the next bus if you don't want to be late for work.
You leave Jungkook's arms with regret and run to the bathroom, without closing the door so Jungkook doesn't feel like you're shutting him off.
"What's wrong?" He asks, quite worried
"I'm going to be late!" You shout while you're brushing your hair and your teeth at the same time
Honestly, Jungkook has totally forgotten that it was Monday. Time flies with you, especially when he is fucking you. He checks his own phone and frowns: you're not this late.
"You don't need to rush, we are only 10 minutes away from your work"
"By car, but it's 25 minutes by bus" You explain
Jungkook jumps on his feet without even caring covering his naked body but you can't blame him: he is perfect. The sight of you rushing to tie up your hair makes him smile - the more you try, the less you succeed - and he wraps your frame with his strong arms. The contrast between his pale, virgin one and the dark and overwhelming other is hypnotizing but you don't have time to contemplate them.
"Did you think you were going to work by bus?" He asks you with a playful tone that makes you stop your moves
You look at him with surprise writing all over your face.
"Let me drive you"
"Jungkook, you don't need to-"
"I want to" He cuts you off and you can't answer anything because you're afraid to tell him you love him instead
So you nod and smile at him through the mirror to thank him. You finish getting ready, way less stressed than two minutes before.
————
"You don't work today?" You ask Jungkook while you're in his black Mercedes
"Nope. Seokjin will come in the afternoon to check my place so I won't have to bother you at your own home" He replies with his bunny smile and scrunched nose that attack your heart every single time
You hate how much your chest tightens. You wish he could stay longer. You wish he could stay forever even. You two have spent the entire weekend together and it was just perfect. Cooking together, joking, cuddling on the couch while you were watching some randoms movies on Netflix felt right. There wasn't any kind on embarrassment and you loved having Jungkook next to you. You have no doubt that when you come home tonight, your apartment will feel way emptier than usual.
To cheer you up you stare at Jungkook. Fuck, he is way too handsome and he doesn't make any effort. You love his long black hair, you love his doe eyes, you love his cute bubble nose, you love his lips. Yes, especially his lips that make wonders. You just love him. All of him. Your eyes go down to his large shoulders hidden by his usual oversized black t-shirt. Your eye ends up on his veiny hands holding up tight on his wheel. You know his tattoos by heart now but you are still fascinated by them. They make Jungkook so hot but you can't help wondering if it was painful.
Your eyes widen when you notice the hair tie around his wrist. You know it's yours because it's an old one and the fragile elastic will break soon.
"Is it mine?" You question just in case
Jungkook looks down at his wrist and smiles gently.
"Yeah" His voice is oddly proud
"It'll break soon, don't you want other one? I can buy you one, if you want" You propose but Jungkook shakes his head
"I want this one. I guess I like having something that's yours with me"
God, he has to stop being so perfect and romantic because your weak heart is not going to make it! Your cheeks redden immediately and you turn your head towards the window to hide it and your stupid grin. You're way too in love with him to think straight and you don't even care. If you had to go back in time, you'd fall in love with Jungkook a thousand times and it wouldn't be enough.
Jungkook has found your hair tie this morning in your bathroom. He kept it because it was evident that it's too worn out to be used and that you won't miss it. But he is well aware of his deep intentions when he has put your elastic around his wrist. As silly as it might be, it was a way to say to the world that he is taken. That he is yours. Obviously, he can't put a ring on your and his finger just yet so the hair tie will stay until then. However, he does regret his long hair now, even though he loves it, because the hair tie can be for his personal use. He's pretty sure no one can understand his weird logic anyway.
Jungkook giggles and places his hand on your thigh. He draws random patterns on it with his fingers and you sigh in delight. You grab his hand in yours but you still don't trust yourself - a love confession could escape you - so you are looking outside at the sunny day.
You thought that Jungkook would tell you goodbye in the car but he steps out and walks you to the main door of the art gallery. Every gesture is kind and it shows how caring is Jungkook. You're lucky to have him.
"I could pick you up after work and we could go to the restaurant tonight?" Jungkook proposes with a slight blush adoring his cheeks
"I have to check on the printer after work" You reply, sighing — the damn printer is driving you insane
"I can accompany you if you want"
"You're sure?" You ask but your voice is actually full of hope
Jungkook nods and smiles at you. God, his eyes are even shinier! He is so pretty you could die out of his cuteness. He gives you a last kiss on the lips before disappearing in his car. You are on a cloud right now and the whole day seems to go just like a dream.
As you agreed on, Jungkook was there when you finished work and drove you to the print firm. He asked you if you wanted him to come with you but you assured him that you'd be okay.
However, right now, you're starting to regret your words. You're talking to the boss of the firm and he doesn't want to hear you when you tell him that you need the prints now. You develop all your arguments, reminding him that you've agreed on a deadline but he is haughty and arrogant and you're two seconds away from losing your mind. Until he tells you something that kicks the air out of your lungs...
"If you don't like how we work in Korea, you should go back to your country!"
You have never faced xenophobia before and it fucking hurts. Especially when you make absolutely no difference between races. You always treat people as equal because they fucking are! But what can you respond? You're way too shock.
However, it wasn't a very smart move from the boss because he said his insult at the very same moment Jungkook stepped inside. Anger is boiling in his blood and he runs pass you to grab the man by his collar. His eyes are nothing like doe's ones right now and the darkness of them are terrifying.
"Say that again?!" Jungkook shouts
"It's not-" The printer stutters
"You're the one who can't do his fucking job! How dare you using the foreigner card to cover your pathetic incompetency?! You're a shame for my country"
Your chest tightens and your eyes water. You're touched by the way Jungkook is defending you but you're afraid he'll punch the guy if you don't stop him. You put a delicate hand on his shoulder to make Jungkook look at you.
"Let him go" You ask him with a weak voice and Jungkook obeys but his eyes are still harsh on the man
"You'll do the fucking printings for tomorrow and you'll make a price on them. And if I hear that you disrespect her again, you won't be so lucky" Jungkook threatens with fists so clenched that his knuckles are white
The printer can only gulp and nod. You grab Jungkook's hand and escape the room which feels suffocating. It was such a good day so far and now, it looks like one of the worst days ever. You're sad and angry, and the worst thing is that you can't do anything about it. People like that are hard to change their minds. You wish he could see how much you love South Korea and the Korean culture. How much you've worked to be able to live here, how much you have sacrificed. You miss your family everyday! But you don't want to cry for someone like that, it doesn't worth it.
"Are you okay?" Jungkook asks you with a voice as sweet as possible with his current wrath
"Thank you for defending me"
He kisses you on the forehead in a attempt to calm down. He can't understand how you can stay calm while he is boiling with anger and frustration — and he is not the one who was insulted! But he knows you're way better than him and he is just amazed by your strength and your courage.
"Maybe we should postpone our date" You say, unsure "I won't be good company and I want to be alone tonight"
"You're sure?" Jungkook asks, his worry evident in his voice and on his face
"Sorry..."
You feel like every time things go smooth between Jungkook and you, something comes to wrack it off... Why is the whole universe conspiring against your happiness?
"Don't apologize. I understand. Just remember I'm just a phone call away, okay babe?"
The pet name warms your heart a little, giving you the strength to offer Jungkook a small smile.
————
Jungkook is worried. It has been three days since he almost beats the shit off this asshole printer and the few texts you've sent him did little to ease him. He should have stayed with you. He should have lied, saying that Seokjin hasn't checked his place yet and that he needed to stay at yours. But he didn't and now he can't find any excuse to knock on your door. He sighs while playing with your hair tie around his wrist. It makes him think about you. Every time he is working on his graphic tablet and his black eyes drift away on the side, he sees it. And a stupid 'I-Am-In-Love' grin appears on his face.
Jungkook's head snaps so fast when he hears a knock on his door that his long hair rises up in the air during the movement. Is he dreaming? He can't question himself because another knock is heard. He jumps on his feet and opens the door as fast as he can. His face immediately brightens when he sees you, but he almost instantly frowns as he grows worried.
"Hi, I hope it's okay I just drop by?" You ask with a small and shy voice, blush adoring your cheeks
"You're welcomed anytime" Jungkook replies with his bunny smile
"Since we didn't go to our date" You start as you're stepping in his place and bend over to take off your shoes "I thought that I could bring the date to us. I brought some fried chicken"
Jungkook's heart goes wild in his chest. He is two seconds away from confessing his feelings but he's missed you to much to waste time with words. He captures your lips with his and gives you a deep and passionate kiss that can only arouse you. You've missed his touch too and you use your free hand to cup his cheek. All species of butterflies are flying in your stomach and you feel stupid to have stayed away from Jungkook this long. Sure, you needed time to heal after the harsh words that were addressed to you and you didn't want to bring Jungkook in your bad mood. You know he is struggling with enough things on his own, he doesn't need to deal with your own shit. But you've missed him. A lot. And it's only been three days...
"I need to stop kissing you, otherwise you won't eat any chicken tonight" He whispers against your lips
Suddenly, skipping diner doesn't seem a so bad idea. But your stomach betrays you and makes an embarrassing loud noise that notifies Jungkook that you are actually hungry. He chuckles while you're blushing in shame. Sometimes, you don't like your physical reactions...
"Let's eat, we'll have plenty of time for the rest later" Jungkook states
You have both finished dripping your fried chicken in the delicious sauce, a random series playing on Netflix when you decide to speak up:
"I'm sorry, for the past few days"
Your voice might be calm, your whole inside is shaken up. You've played your words many times in your head before saying it out loud, yet it feels weird.
"You don't have to apologize" Jungkook reassures you
"I know but I want to. You have been really... nice to me" You want to say how perfect and amazing and absolutely lovable Jungkook has been but it might be too overwhelming for you and him to confess that out loud "I shouldn't have shut you off like that. I just needed time to... I don't know, heal?"
"Hey..." Jungkook says softly as he grabs your hand and caresses the back of it with his thumb "You don't have to explain or say anything about it. I'm just glad you're feeling better"
You smile lightly at him, relieved that he doesn't resent you — even though you had no doubt about it. But your smile soon turns into a gulp when you notice the faint smirk on Jungkook's handsome face.
"But if you really want to apologize, I have an idea" He purrs with a tone way lower than before, which makes your cheeks burn
You don't know what to reply, and you don't really want to anyway. So you close the gap between the two of you and crash your lips onto his. The coldness of the lip ring surprises you as much as it pleases you.
Jungkook's hands immediately reach your hips to guide you toward his lap. You press your crotch on his and you literally melt when you feel the friction of your covered clit on his slight hard cock. You don't know if it's because you've missed him or because Jungkook makes you brave but you feel more adventurous and drift to his throat. You kiss his neck and inhale his sweet smell you love so much. Your ministrations on his thin skin seem to please him because he squeezes your ass. It makes you want to tease him more. So you capture his lobe, between two of his earrings, between your teeth and gently tug on it.
"You need to stop that if you don't want me to fuck you rough" He adverts you
But his sexy voice is way more important than his threat, it spurs you to push on his button because how good could it feel to be fucked rough.
"Maybe I want it" You reply with a faked innocent tone
"You don't know want you're asking for, baby" He almost growls
You don't waste energy to reply and you rather lick a fat strap from his collarbone to his ear lobe. That's it for Jungkook. He has let you take a little bit of control but he can't stand it anymore, not when you're such a tease. You deserve to be fucked good and it's what he intents to do.
His moves are precise and fast, so much that it only takes you a gasp to be sit on the couch and have Jungkook on his knees between your legs. The view somewhat reminds you of the first time you've been intimate — on this very same couch.
His big palms go up and down your bare thighs, lifting up even higher your pink sundress. This simple touch electrifies you. You feel so aware of him. You thrill out of expectation, especially when you spot the perfect smirk on his handsome face — a face you want to burry between your thighs.
Your breathe gets cut off when Jungkook's hands reach higher, clamping on your ruined panties. He asks your consent with his doe eyes and you nod while biting your lower lip. In one second, your underwear is gone, thrown on the floor.
You blush as Jungkook admires your wetness. He wraps his forearms around your thighs and brings you on the edge of the couch. When his tongue lands on your intimacy, your eyes shut close and your head roll back to fully enjoy the pleasure it provides. You feel Jungkook's tongue on your clit, drawing perfect circles and sucking lightly. It's so good that you need to tug on his black hair and press him deeper against you. You moan when the metal of his piercing touches your burning and soaked pussy, making you automatically open your legs wider for him — and the tattooed man can't helping thinking how a good girl you are.
You open your eyes again and you almost faint when you notice that Jungkook was looking at you the whole time. His eyes are so bright and cute, and the contrast with his nose, lips and chin covered with your arousal is lethal. You almost choke on your spit when Jungkook enters your with his tongue.
"Kook" You groan, spurring him to fasten his pace
You are so wet, so aroused because of him, for him. You really want to think that's because you haven't seen him for a couple of days but, deep down, you know that you could feel the exact same if he had touched you this morning. It's just the effect this man has on you.
"I love how you taste" He purrs against your cunt "The most delicious little pussy in the whole world"
You wish you could have the strength to scold him but his dirty words make you clench — it's impossible to deny how much you love his praises.
"Oh god!" You moan loud when Jungkook takes a big fat strap from your entrance to your sensitive bud
You are close. You are so deep in your delirious pleasure that you notice just now that Jungkook's shoulder and arm are moving. More like jolting. Is he...?
"Oh my god!" You scream with redden cheeks when you understand that Jungkook is jerking himself off while eating your pussy
You should feel scandalized in front of the sinful scene but it actually makes you feel the opposite. It makes you feel sexy. And fuck... He is hot.
You caress Jungkook's long hair that tickles your inner thighs — which provides even more pleasure — but your intended caressing soon turns into tugging harshly on his locks because you are real close.
"I'm gonna come" You notify him with a dry throat
"Cum on my face, babe" He teases you with his stupidly hot smirk
But who are you to disobey? The fog provided by your orgasm takes over everything. You loudly moan Jungkook's name as your head rolls back and your toes curl.
You are out of breathe when you reach down Earth again but your cheeks are still burning, especially because Jungkook is still wanking.
"You are so beautiful when you cum" He murmurs, almost as if you weren't supposed to hear it
You look at how the lower part of his face is glistening with your juices and you try to wipe it off but Jungkook grabs your hand and kisses it.
Fuck.
Your heart obviously skips a beat because of your orgasm and not because of the sweet gesture, right?
"Can I cum on your stomach?" Jungkook asks so nonchalantly that you wonder if you've heard well his request
"I-uhm-yeah" You whisper for an answer
"You can say no" He reassures you, not willing you to feel trap
"No, it's okay, please do it"
You don't really know why you answer so politely to such a filthy question but it surely pleases Jungkook. He lets a 'fuck' escaping his perfect mouth and locks his eyes on your poor oversensitive cunt.
To be honest, he was too worried about you to masturbate so he knows damn well that he won't last long. He is not embarrassed because he isn't unaffected by your touch either and him cumming now doesn't mean he won't fuck you later in the night.
Just thinking about how warm and tight your pussy feels around his big cock brings him to the edge. And when your hand reaches his balls to gently caress them, it's enough for him. He spreads his hot cum on your lower stomach, painting your skin white. It's so fucking beautiful he could cry.
Jungkook loves that he can mark you this way, even though no one will know it. Hoaxed by his possessiveness, his thumb collects just a little bit of his seeds and uses it to roll smoothly on your clit. You almost jump out of surprise and pleasure. Your moans are choked but undeniably spurred by arousal.
Actually, you are so deep in pleasure that you barely register your phone ringing.
You could ignore it, except that it's a special ringtone. A ringtone you haven't heard in a long time. And you also know that, at such a late hour, it can't be for nothing.
With your heart squeezed, you jump on your feet, completely missing Jungkook's flabbergasted face. He just sits on his butt, on the floor, with his cock still out of his briefs as he watches you answering your phone while he was fucking playing with your clit.
"Oppa?" You say, causing an immediate frown on Jungkook's face
You stay silent as the caller explains the situation and stress rushes through your veins.
"I'm coming!" Sure do, Jungkook thinks with annoyance "I'll be there in just 35 minutes" You assure and hang up
You collect your panties and put them back, not even caring about your drying juices or Jungkook's cum on your stomach.
"I'm sorry, I've got to go" You tell him but you don't even look at him as you put your phone in your bag and put on your shoes
"Okay?" Jungkook replies, completely taken aback "I can drive y—"
"No thanks" You shut him down, a little harshly while you really don't want to but you are way too stressed to control your tone like you want "I see you later" You add
You land a gentle kiss on his cheek and disappear. 
previous ← 10 → next
Taglist @hoseokteardrop @aerynorirene @jkoooooooookie @lacolegaming @busanbby-jjk @mysteriousstress65 @coralmusicblaze @winter-bear98 @gimeow @cuntessaiii @nikkinik485 @jjin-kun @dmstoyangyang
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Hi! I'm sorry for making you wait this long but so many things happened! I'm almost done with Better Than Him. Thank you for your patience 🩷
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simpforpeterp · 2 days
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lucifer morningstar x oc
ONLY ANGEL
summary: A story in which the King of Hell falls in love with a fallen angel who became the most powerful overlord in Hell, the owner of millions of souls, in less than a year. (She obtained them all on accident) (Yes, she accidentally became the most powerful overlord in Hell)
warnings: no specific warnings other than the fact that it's hazbin so (hopefully?) you know what you're getting yourself into
word count: 2.7k
author's note: this is the first chapter of ten uploaded on ao3 and wattpad so far!!!! if you like this chapter please go read the rest on there or ask and i can upload more chapters on here!! :)
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Chapter 1: The Fall
no one warns you before the fall
"So," Lucifer began his voice a low murmur, placing his hand on his forehead. "Do you wanna tell me your deal? I've gone through hell and back, pun intended, to track you down."
  "Are you implying I owe you an explanation? Because if that's the case, honesty is key here, right?" She smiles.
  "I- maybe? You know what, sure. Let's run with that," He lets out a dry chuckle. "Spill it, sister. How...how did you become a fallen angel?"
  "This is stupid."
  "It's not stupid, I know that better than anyone." He tries.
  "No, no, no, I don't mean it like I'm ashamed to tell you. I mean...how it happened. I'm fully aware of how stupid this is about to sound but everything that's happened to me, how I got here and became one of the most powerful people in hell within months...it was a complete accident. A series of unforeseen accidents." She tells him, leaning back further in her chair.
  "Are you bullshitting me?"
  "No, okay, listen. I'm not gonna go at this saying I'm completely innocent. Did I sneak into Earth multiple times and do a lot of horrible things like drugs, become the lead singer in one of the biggest bands in existence, and live multiple lifetimes over the decades on Earth? Yes. But that's surprisingly not what got me kicked out. But it did get me 100 hours of heaven's version of court-mandated community service. I had to lead tours of the biggest museum in Heaven. The Museum of Other Religions."
-
  "And here on your left, you'll see a pair of horns from a real-life minotaur. This museum was built centuries ago to show amazing things from our neighbors. With the rule that you have to have at least three people to form a religion, a lot of religions have formed, a lot of them with an afterlife similar to ours. We share these skies with hundreds of others! Even...some bullshit like religions like those who follow the Sonic Bible. Yes, the Hedgehog. And that leads us to...ten golden rings." She sighs, absolutely tired of this work.
  "What's that?" A child points to a large Norse weapon.
  "That's a spear. It looks like a cane, but it's a spear. This famous weapon actually has a name. Gungir is the famous spear of Odin, the King of Asgardian Gods. Actually-" She starts before a loud noise starts next door. It's only her second month of volunteering, she's never heard anything like that.
  "What is that?" A concerned mother asks.
  "Ah...I'm not entirely sure. Everyone, please wait here, I'll go check it out." She says, awkwardly scooting away from the tour group until she reaches the door.
  The air reverberated with deafening screeches, assaulting her ears as she stumbled upon the source of the commotion. A putrid stench, like sulfur mixed with decay, took over her senses, causing bile to rise in her throat.
  The building next door has always had no name and no one was ever allowed in there except for very special people. So, entering the alley between the two buildings probably wasn't a good idea but that's where the noise was coming from.
  That's when she sees a big glowing portal. With a perfect view of hell and angels who definitely do not belong there. Angels who were doing something they shouldn't have been. She shuts the door to the alley and stumbles backwards quickly. A conveniently placed rock causes her to fall backwards, still trying to back away as the portal radiates heat.
  "Watching these stupid fucks die never gets old!" Adam laughs as he watches other angels do their killing. He steps backwards into the portal, watching proudly. That stupid son of a bitch.
  She tries her best to be quiet, not letting him hear even a breath. He sighs and begins to walk into the adjacent building before turning back around and seeing the other angel on the floor, a look of horror on her face.
  "Of course, my fucking luck. Listen here, you little bitch. What you saw? Never happened. Got it? 'Kay, thanks! Bye!" He throws a smoke bomb on the floor, filling her lungs and making her cough relentlessly.
  It leaves a hollow feeling in her chest as she tries to hit it out of her lungs with her wrist. The portal is gone when the smoke clears up. Well, mostly. The thick black smoke is slowly rising, just barely out of her face.
  "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" The head Seraphim comes out from the museum.
  "Oh, f- my group. I'll head back in n-"
  "Christy took your group. You're coming with me." Sera says coldly before leading the way to the heavenly court.
  They appear there within seconds. The room is almost empty. Just Sera, Emily, and a few others who are usually involved in the proceedings. And it's horrifying. It's a known fact, a joke in Heaven, about how the only other time this room was like this was when Lucifer fell.
  "L-look, if this is about Lute, she only hates me because I tried to tell her to stop yelling at the first graders whenever she passes by." The Angel tries to deflect.
  "I have heard much about you, Eleanor." Sera begins.
  "Really? That's- that's uh- really dedicated," She clears her throat awkwardly. "You can call me Ellie though."
  "Eleanor, we have let a lot of things slide with you. You've broken over fifty cardinal rules. We've only punished you for five. We thought your volunteer work would help you but then I find you away from your group, smoking in the alley?"
  "Woah, woah, woah, smoking? Me? I haven't smoked since the sixties!" She puts her hands up in defense before mumbling. "Cigarettes, anyway."
  The people in the room begin whispering and it's overwhelming.
  "Look, please, you've gotta believe me. I know I've messed up in the past but I can explain myself. I was with my group, okay? And then we heard this noise and I decided to go check it out and it was horrible! I saw this big portal and- and- it was to Hell!" She starts frantically explaining before everyone's faces change quickly. "Angels were there, they were killing those poor souls in hell! Adam! You were there, you saw it." She points to the man sitting.
  "Huh? Oh, yeah, I don't know what you're talking about." He shrugs.
  "What? No- but I saw it! I was there, I know it was Hell and I know they were killing sinners. They were wielding angelic weapons and- and-" She tries.
  "Enough," Sera holds her hand up and everything falls silent. "The court stands firm in this decision, you were supposed to stay with your tour group, you barely had half your hours done. This was your final warning-"
  "But it wasn't my fault! There were these loud screams and explosions and this horrible smell, I wasn't trying to be irresponsible and leave my tour group. I was trying to comfort them and let them know the noise was nothing more than something normal but I couldn't do that because apparently angels can be murderers!" Ellie raises her voice.
  "We've never allowed anything of the sort to happen. You must be making this up. But perhaps this is for the best, this was never the place for you. It was only a matter of time before we had to do this." Sera sighs.
  "Before I got kicked out? You all think I'm trouble just like everyone else here." She shakes her head, trying to step back but she can't. She's frozen.
  "Lute?" Sera calls. "Get her wings and halo, now."
-
  "But the exterminations are real, they do happen. They just- they lied to you and said you were the liar? That's...fucked up." He breathes out.
  "I learned that the hard way when I saw the big countdown on that big white tower. But I couldn't just sit around and lick my wounds. So, I got up and held onto the walls to make sure I didn't lose my balance without my wings. I was bleeding down the entire back of my shirt but I didn't want anyone to think I was dead and eat me. I had no idea where I was but then I started meeting all kinds of new people." She shrugs.
  "And so you just randomly turned evil and started taking souls?" He asks.
  "I'm not evil, dude. I'm an idiot, sure, but I'm not evil." She tries.
  "You own millions of souls by yourself. You've been here for a year."
  "Okay, this is about to look like a lie because of, again, how stupid this is. But that was also an accident."
  "Come on!" He laughs loudly, literally slapping his knee.
  "What? It was!" She manages a giggle too, leaning slightly forward.
   "I- oh, hold on. I have to call my daughter really quick, I'm not making it to this meeting. Sorry, Darlin'." He winks with a wide grin.
  "No, god bless you, baby." She smirks as he stands up, keeping his eyes on her as his smile never drops.
 
-
  Ellie breezed into the crowded bar, her presence drawing curious gazes from the denizens of Hell. With a nonchalant smile, she approached the overlord seated at the center of the room, his imposing figure exuding an aura of dominance. The demon, adorned in extravagant robes adorned with glistening jewels, regarded her with a mixture of amusement and disdain.
  By then, rumors had begun to spread about her rise to power. Her presence immediately commanded attention despite her seemingly unassuming appearance. Her light brown wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders in her white sundress. She looked utterly angelic, standing out like a sore thumb.
  "What's your deal, babe? You dealin' in souls looking like that?" The demon chuckles.
"That's usually how it goes. Usually, I say, 'If I win in a game of tic-tac-toe, I get your soul,' and then you say-" Eleanor chirped, her tone playful and carefree.
The overlord's laughter rumbled through the room, a deep and menacing sound that reverberated off the walls.
  "You? Win my soul? That's funny, little angel. But very well, indulge me," he chuckled, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
With a snap of his fingers, a makeshift tic-tac-toe grid materialized before them, the lines etched in crimson fire against the darkened backdrop of the bar. Eleanor's grin widened as she accepted the challenge, her fingers tracing the X's and O's with childish delight.
  She plays the game and everyone around can smell off of her that she has no idea the power she holds. People don't treat souls like a big deal unless you're dealing with them. How was she supposed to know if she had no friends in hell?
  As the game unfolded, Ellie approached it with the same innocence and naivety that had defined her existence thus far. Each move she made was guided by whimsy rather than strategy, her laughter filling the air as she reveled in the simplicity of the game. Her having learned the trick to win almost every time years ago gave her the unearned confidence of a white man.
  But to the overlord's growing horror, Eleanor's seemingly random moves began to form a pattern—a pattern that ultimately led to her victory. With a triumphant giggle, she declared her win, completely unaware of the gravity of her actions.
  The overlord's expression darkened, his features twisted in rage as he realized the consequences of his defeat. "No...this can't be!" he growled, his voice filled with anger.
  But Ellie just shrugged, her carefree demeanor undiminished. As the overlord begrudgingly handed over his soul, the realization dawned on him that Eleanor's ascent to power in Hell was not the result of cunning or calculation, but sheer innocence and luck—a fact that made her all the more dangerous. She has no idea what kind of power she holds.
-
  "No, no way, you're telling me that's how you got all those souls? A children's game? And no one owns your soul? You've won every time?" Lucifer laughs even louder than before.
  "I mean, yeah! Maybe I'll show you how sometime." She laughs with him.
  "So, were you just doing this to millions of people, thinking it was a fun game for almost a year?"
  "Yeah, pretty much. Well, not necessarily to millions. As I played with more people, I would joke that if I won I would get their soul and every other soul they own. That kind of picked up my numbers. Fun fact, I only found out that it indeed was not a joke last week. Only after I became the owner of millions of souls. But it was never in a malicious way. I was just trying to make friends. It always struck me as weird that I would find decent enough people and after we played tic-tac-toe they would be scared or wouldn't want to be around me anymore. It never occurred to me that I was and was not the problem at the same time." She explains.
  "So, you're really not evil, huh?" He smiles at her again.
  "Unfortunately, I'm not evil. But I've only been here for a year." She gives him a smile that grabs his attention. A cute smile.
  "Ellie?" He hums.
  "Your Highness." She hums back.
  "Please, call me Lucifer. Anything else is too fancy. Unless you want to call me baby again." He leans the slightest bit closer to her with a smile.
  "What were you saying, baby?" She says in the same flirtatious way she did before.
  "Is your place around here? I don't have anything else to ask you, you don't seem to be as big of a threat as I thought. You are insanely powerful and own the most souls but without the malicious intent, we should be good to go, darlin'." He chuckles.
  "My place is an idea, a concept. My place is a thought. I go where I want, basically." She shrugs.
  "You don't have a home?" He asks.
  "Nah, when I found out this is where I'm gonna be forever, I wanted to explore everything. But now I think I've explored everything so I should probably get on that. You know, find a place fit for an overlord. If I was scary enough to strike your fancy, I should have somewhere to fit that, right?" She shrugs.
  "Come home with me." He sits up straighter.
  His voice carries a hint of vulnerability, his gaze showing a flicker of loneliness. He extended the invitation to Ellie not just out of duty as the King of Hell, but because he could see right through her. She brushes everything about it heaven off. The way she fell, the way she had to find her way in this awful place, she made it seem like no big deal. But he knows it's not. This place is scary, especially to outsiders.
  And maybe he does have slightly ulterior motives. Everything about her is so familiar. The way she held herself, her feet quickly tapping on the floor, the way everything went down. He's been so in need of companionship and he can't help but want to know her better.
  "You know...I would, but I um, have something to do later, not that it's more important than you, the king of hell, but I-" She starts to nervously make an excuse.
  "No, sorry! I meant, come stay with me. For now. You're an angel, a fallen angel, just like me. I- I know what it's like to be just...cast out like nothing. I can't just throw you back into hell like I never met you. I want you to come stay with me," He throws in a small smile at the end. "I mean, if you don't want to, that's fine. I can't force you. But I think I'm a pretty good roommate."
  "Did I also accidentally find the King of Hell's soft spot?" She giggles and gets one out of him too.
  "I guess you did, Ellie. So...what do you say?" He asks, slightly nervous and not sure why.
  "You know what...sure. Why not?"
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deadsh33p · 11 months
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idc if you’re into countryhumans, but if you are and you don’t know proper history, don’t you DARE make art/fanfiction of germany, italy or japan.
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calicos-clones · 1 month
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I don’t think people realize how freaked out fanfic readers get when their favorite author(s) doesn’t update their ongoing schedule ON TIME.
And it’s not cause we want the chapter…it’s cause we’re so fucking worried about the Author.
Like— OMG ARE YOU OKAY? YOU’VE BEEN GIVING US THE TRAGIC UPDATES OF YOUR LIFE IN THE NOTES THE PAST 10 CHAPTERS?! WHY STOP? ARE YOU DEAD? DID YOU GET STUCK IN THE WALL LIKE YOUR CAT?? HAVE YOU EATEN?? HAS YOUR BRAIN EXPLODED??
Readers no longer care about the story when they don’t get their usual update. We panic and flag S.O.S as we track down our wayward author who has been both blessed by the universe with a creative mind and cursed all the same with the worst luck.
So any authors who are reading this please understand— when we comment “hey are you okay?” in your comments. No, we are not asking about the chapter.
We are legitimately concerned for your wellbeing. Do not force yourself to shit out a chapter just to appease other ppl when you yourself are not in the mental state to enjoy it or even write it to begin with.
TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF DAMMIT
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wawhii · 8 months
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Morrowind has me fucked up enough after tonight that I need the fucking Skyrim Tavern Music
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pocket-prosecutor · 2 years
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this started as an incoherent rant in the server but now I'm obsessed so have a Wereshifer Miles AU one-shot (tl;dr: Edgeworth shrinks to about 6 inches every time the sun goes down)
set after the timeskip in AA5. Edgeworth and Wright live together. Edgeworth's nightly shrinking is part of their routine at this point.
the part with Phoenix getting back on the couch and talking about how Miles makes him feel is a bit that @callie-flower came up with in the server and I really wanted to use that ahh ;;;
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They were sitting on the couch after work. It was a nice day, with the late evening sun still filling the room with a golden glow. In the back, a record player was playing a slow, soothing album.
Suddenly, Phoenix shot up. He looked at Edgeworth with eager eyes.
"Wright, what is-"
"Dance with me."
"W...Now? The sun is almost down, I don't think- h-hey!"
Before Edgeworth could say more, Phoenix pulled him from the couch.
"Just for a bit. Come on, we rarely do this."
Edgeworth stared at Phoenix for a few seconds before smiling and complying to his request.
"Alright, just for a bit then."
They held each other and slow-danced to the music playing in the room for a few minutes, relishing the closeness of the other.
"...Phoenix, it's time, we should st-"
But Phoenix pulled Edgeworth closer, locking eyes with him.
"Phoe- please I'm already losing height."
"Just a little more, Miles."
Edgeworth was making a second attempt to get back to sitting down in a safer spot. But Phoenix wasn't about to let go.
Then it clicked.
"Oh."
Edgeworth relaxed. They kept dancing, although Phoenix had to adjust the way he held his partner as he slowly shrunk down. Phoenix realised it must have looked somewhat silly, but he didn't care.
Within a minute, Edgeworth was too small to even hold Phoenix in his arms. Yet Phoenix was not ready to let go. He picked Edgeworth up the moment he was small enough. Edgeworth looked at him with surprised eyes. He lost the last few inches of his height whilst being held in Phoenix's hands, who had never held Edgeworth while he shrunk before. The experience took them both a little aback.
"I could hold you like this forever, you know." Phoenix said, breaking a short silence.
Edgeworth wasn't sure what to say. He adjusted his position to lay more stable in Phoenix's hands. Then he looked up. Their eyes locked again and Edgeworth took in the sight of Phoenix's face so up close.
He let out a sigh. "Your freckles are exceptionally visible from here." he said half seriously, to break the awkward tension he felt.
Phoenix's heart skipped a beat. Now he was the one who was at a loss of words. He'd held Edgeworth before at nights, but that was mostly to help him get around the house. The sight of his partner laying down in his hands. So small and fragile. And Miles literally trusted him with his whole life in this moment.
Eventually he managed to utter: "God, I want to kiss you so badly right now."
"You- What now?"
"... please?"
Again, Edgeworth was unsure what to say. What was Phoenix thinking? This was one of the worst moments for Phoenix to play the romantic fool.
Wasn't it?
...
Edgeworth smiled.
"Okay."
"Wait really?"
He stood up in Phoenix's palms and nodded. "Really."
Phoenix didn't wait until Edgeworth could change his mind. He brought his hands closer to his face as gently as possible. His lips covered Edgeworth's entire face, and Edgeworth tried his best not to fall over. To keep his balance, he wrapped his arms around Phoenix's cheeks, and kissed him back as well as he could despite his size.
Phoenix gently drew back his hands, which made Edgeworth fall over on his palms. As he laid there, staring at Phoenix, he smiled.
"The song stopped playing already, you know."
"I don't care." As Phoenix said that, he cupped Edgeworth against his chest and moved to music that was not longer playing. Edgeworth listened to Phoenix's heartbeat and relaxed.
When Phoenix was done, he fell back on the couch, keeping Edgeworth close to his chest.
"Do you hear that Miles? This is how you make me feel all the time."
Edgeworth moved to lay on his back on Phoenix's chest and let out a heavy sigh. He never thought of shrinking every night as anything positive. It was always a burden to him, and now he often felt like a burden to Phoenix. Being showered in affection like this felt...good.
Really good.
Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.
They sat like this for a while, both contemplating what just happened, until one of them spoke up:
"We could do this more often."
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asexualjedi · 1 year
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As a kid I wanted to like be like the doctor like play them on tv but then I was likely they’ll never hire me I’m American and then I was like ok best I can get is companion but I need to like figure out how to break into acting I’m only gonna get older I’m running out of time. I need to get enough credits to ever be able to audition. Anyways long story short sometimes I’ll see the doctor or the companions and my brain just awaken that demon and is like ok we’ll time to drop out of law school change my life completely in need to hurry up and speed run if I’m not gonna run out of time.
#idk if I’m explaining it right bc I’m half wake but truly funny that’s ingrained in me just like I know how old I was at every grade bc in#elementary full I mapped it out bc I wanted to know how long I was trapped what year I would get out and how old I would be and that’s just#entranced in me no math no thinking#can’t think in any other way about it#but yeah something something autism something something my chronic depression anxiety#making me feel like very choose I made choosing to look at only the roads that are now closed and what could have been even if thetr easnt t#much of a chance for the other road or like why I decided what#anyways when I had idea for this post I meant to bring it up bc#I did acting right#but it was just small school stuff and trying out for like local theate companies and stuff#and like i didn’t go to far into it bc I had real really bad paranoia#like it’s better now#like it doesn’t mess with my life like it did or whatver BUT like I hated being on camera and people seeing me hearing me prociecing me.#like during the acting whatver but afterwards. like I’m better now I’m a private person don’t like to over share face on whatever online but#that’s also just internet safety right#anyways so I think it’s funny like yeqh person who hates to be prveeved and doesn’t want anyone to know there name or face go run quick and#become a television actor aim for a very ijnthe spotlight roll nothing bad can come from this ajdjdjd#feel like I lost the plot/whatver joke I originally had but I’m tired and have been doing property for like most of my waking hours the#past 2 days so if it’s not a hour like future interests in real estate my Brian’s scrambled
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There's a viral video circulating from the Fort Worth Zoo, of two keepers who ended up in a habitat at the same time as a silverback gorilla. Spoiler for good news: neither the humans nor the gorilla got hurt. It's a bad situation that ended extremely well, and that's why I want to talk about it.
The audio for this video is mostly someone praying loudly, so if you need to turn the audio off to watch it, you won't miss anything relevant. If you don't want to watch it, here's the summary: it starts with a keeper running around the corner into the main exhibit, pursued by a large male gorilla. She is quickly able to get into a doorway at the back of the exhibit, but does not completely close the door because the gorilla is standing across from her, watching. He eventually moves off to the right hand side of the exhibit, where we can see a keeper is trapped in the corner at the front. She was trying to move towards the exit as he moved to the right, and she stops, standing very still behind a tree, while he stays along the far right wall. They stay like that for a minute, and then the gorilla runs to the front right corner, and the keeper is able to run to the door in the back of the exhibit and get to safety.
Let's start with basic information. Even though it's just going viral now, this video is from October of 2023. It was taken not by a guest, but by the zoo security officer responding to the situation. Hmmm, seems like he maybe should have been doing something else during that situation, instead of than taking a phone video. It's going viral now because the guy (who is no longer employed at the zoo) decided to post it on TikTok for his five minutes of fame. This guy immediately started giving all sorts of media interviews, answering questions like "why no tranquilizers" inappropriately, making memes out of his own video, generally distasteful shit.
Zoo spokesperson Avery Elander gave a public statement that "thankfully, there was no physical contact between keepers and gorilla, and all staff and animals are safe." A comment from the zoo has also indicated that the incident was due to keeper error. (As opposed to, for instance, something in the fencing breaking.) According to the guy who posted the video, a lock was left unsecured and the gorilla was able to open the door to the habitat. I don't know if I buy it, and again, this just... is probably why he doesn't have a job anymore. By sharing that detail - real or not - he places a ton of public scrutiny and blame on that keeper team. (If that's what happened, I can promise you it will have been dealt with internally.) He also was nice enough to say he wouldn't name the women in the video... but verified they're still staffers at the zoo... which means they're eminently identifiable! Excuse me while I ragequit for a second.
So there's two reasons I wanted to talk about this. The first is to make sure it is well known that this guy is purposefully and intentionally exploiting the worst day of someone's life for media attention. Their lives were in danger, and he's using it for fame. His name is in the media articles - I'm not going to share it because he doesn't deserve that attention. The second reason, though, is because this video is a masterclass on how to survive if you end up sharing space with a gorilla. Every zoo person I've spoken to or seen comment on the video is so, so impressed with how the keepers handled themselves.
The gorilla in this video is 34-year-old Elmo. All apes in AZA zoos are managed in protected contact, so keepers are supposed to be separated from them by a barrier at all times. The zookeepers were in the habitat putting out a mid-day meal when he got out. Watching the video, you can see he's not actively being aggressive towards them - he's not making threat displays or trying to approach them. Mostly, Elmo seems like he doesn't know what is going on and he's kinda freaked out about it. (This is confirmed in the zoo's press statement, too). The staff stayed calm, and importantly, watched and waited to see how he'd move and act.
The zoo did say one thing, though, that's a bit misleading. In one article, their press person I quote as saying “In general, gorillas are considered the “gentle giants” of the great ape species.” Just because this may be true in comparison to other great ape species doesn't meant gorilla aren't still incredibly dangerous. This type of messaging always worries me, because I think it leads people to misunderstand the risks of being close to megafauna. Gorilla are extremely strong animals, and their social norms/behaviors are very different from that of humans. That's why it's such a big deal any time people end up in gorilla habitats, and why sometimes in those circumstances lethal measures have to be taken to protect human life.
These keepers are incredibly lucky to be unharmed. These women stayed safe specifically because they're trained professionals who knew how to act around gorilla, they knew this particular animal well, and they'd learned the escapes from the exhibit just in case this ever happened. We should applaud them for their cool heads and quick thinking.
As for the guy who posted the video? As a colleague put it, may he always step on a Lego.
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eddiesxangel · 3 months
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Show You | Virgin Eddie x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Eddie meets you 4 years after he escapes the upside-down when he moves to your small Californian town.
Wc: 7k AN: sorry to the anons that requested Virgin!Eddie like a month ago, but here shit is!
Cw: shy/angsty/insecure!Eddie, fluff, SMUT, Virgin Eddie x experienced fem reader, size kink, blowjob, p in v, protected sex, sub!Eddie. Switch?eddie, dirty talk.
1990
Eddie’s life for his first twenty years wasn’t necessarily the best… drugs, alcohol, child neglect, and that wasn’t even the worst of it. Eddie’s dreams were haunted by the horror story of his life, which was 1986.
Four years ago, the gates of hell opened, and Eddie was dragged into them, kicking and screaming. Eventually, he got out with his weird band of misfits, but the scars left on his body by those disgusting creatures only remind him daily of the horrors he survived.
He survived. He got out and was paid a fat sum by the American government for keeping quiet. So he took the money and his Uncle and they ran. They ran far, far away from Hawkins, so far they ended up in the quaint town of Ferndale, California.
The Munson men had grown accustomed to the small-town life and did not want to give that up. They were pleasantly surprised when they moved to Ferndale. The vibrant Victorian-style homes painted in different shades of pastel colours added a pop of colour to the town's landscape. Wayne was particularly taken by the town's charm and ultimately decided he didn't want to leave.
The smell of saltwater from the nearby ocean was a refreshing change, and the Munson men enjoyed taking long walks on the beach during their free time to clear their heads of their tortured past. The picturesque scenery of Ferndale was a welcome change from the mundane routine of their old town of Hawkins.
With that money from the government, Eddie was able to buy himself and his uncle a nice four-bedroom house; they had so much room for just the two of them they didn’t know what to do with it. Eddie owed everything to his uncle, so of course, he needed to splurge.
Eddie had to undergo hours of physical therapy daily to fix every joint and muscle on the right side of his body, which made it difficult for him to perform even the simplest of tasks. It took him a couple of years to recover and walk properly again, but he remained determined to make a fresh start and leave his old life behind.
Once he was finally able to function normally, Eddie set out to find a new job that would provide him with a real opportunity to rebuild his life. He was determined to leave his past behind and start anew without any remnants of his old life hanging over him, including drug dealing. Eddie knew that it wouldn't be easy, but he remained committed to his goal. He was willing to put in the hard work necessary to succeed in his new job and build a better life for himself. For him, this was a second chance, a fresh start that he was determined to make the most of.
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The door chimed and jingled as the fall air flowed into the small music store. While the locals were bundled up in layers of corduroy and jean jackets, scarves, and gloves, Eddie enjoyed the breeze that entered the shop. His faded black Metallica t-shirt was the only one in sight.
The doorbell's persistent chime was starting to wear on Eddie's nerves as the evening came to a close. It had been a long and busy day, with customer after customer coming in. With only twenty minutes left to go, he was getting ready to close up shop alone tonight. He considered flipping the sign a little early because, finally, after hours of non-stop work, the floor was empty of people.
Eddie was behind the counter, wiping down the work area and facing away from the door, when he heard those dreaded chimes. His shoulders dropped with defeat; he was a fool to think this day could be ended early.
He put on a façade of good customer service, but his expression quickly changed to genuine happiness mixed with nerves upon seeing who had walked into the small record store.
He had seen you around town, at the grocery store and sometimes at the beach. He admired you from afar, never once approaching you. No. You intimidated him but in the best way. You were like no other woman he had seen before.
Growing up in Hawkins, being secluded as the town freak, he didn’t have much exposure to female attention. Or any romantic attraction for that fact. So when you entered the store, Eddie’s palms felt sweaty, and his heart started to race; he could hear the blood pounding in his ears as his eyes locked with yours.
He swore he saw a sparkle in your eyes when you looked at him, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. He didn’t even know your name yet.
“E-evening,” he awkwardly waved as you browsed the slim aisle.
“Hi,” your face broke out into a smile and went back to your search. Your best friend Charlie’s birthday was tomorrow, and you needed to get her a gift before her party.
As you searched and searched, you were still looking for an album you thought she would like. You two were total opposites when it came to your music preferences, so you had no idea what to get her. After minutes with no success, you found yourself calling out to the only other person in the store.
“Hey, I don't mean to bother you, but I need your opinion.” You snap Eddie out of his little daydream, obviously that you were the start of that daydream.
“Sure!” He said he was a bit too excited. “How can I help you” he smiled but swung his long arms back and forth uncomfortably as he approached you.
“I’m looking for a birthday gift, and I’m a total newbie when it comes to metal. Do you think you can help me?” You bite your lip, observing the man in front of you.
He possessed an alluring, bad-boy persona that made him quite charming. His hair was long, reaching his shoulders, and looked unstyled, yet it was evident that he had taken time to make it look just right. The chocolate waves cascaded down his face, framing his striking features, which were difficult to ignore. His big, round eyes were captivating, and they softened his tough exterior, making him appear less intimidating, especially with that nasty scar running through his left cheek and up to his temple. He had a fair complexion, and his arms were visible, revealing numerous tattoos that covered some scars running up from his forearm to his bicep, which aided his rugged appearance.
He saw you staring and immediately wrapped his arms around himself, trying to conceal the scars from your gaze. You felt bad. You know it’s rude to stare, but he was so enticing to look at; you’d never seen anyone like him before, especially not in this North California town of yours.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You gestured to the arms he was concealing.
"S'all good." He brushed it off, but you could tell he was, in fact, uncomfortable.
"If it makes you feel any better... it makes you look like a total badass." You smirked.
"Oh really?" hearing your compliment did make Eddie feel a little better.
"Yeah, total babe magnet." You flirt.
"Well... I don't know about that?" Eddie's closed-off demeanour quickly changed to bashful.
"You're not from here, are you?" you looked at his name tag "Eddie," you cock your head, taking him in once again.
He's taller than you by at least a full head. His shoulders are broad, and his torso is lean. You'd guess he is around your age, mid-twenties, give or take a year or two.
Eddie liked the way you said his name.
"Nah, moved here a few years ago," he smirked.
"Well, I'm glad you did because you look just like the style of a guy who can help me." You bite your lip.
"I do?"
"Like I said, my friend is a total metalhead, and I don't have a clue on what to get?"
"Sure, yeah, I'm definitely your guy for that."
He walked you over to the correct section of the store, and you noticed a slight limp to his gate.
"If they're just an okay friend, I suggest this," He held up a small cassette. "but if they're a really good friend, Then this is definitely the thing to get them."
"Oh, this looks like something they would like! Charlie never shuts up about this band." You smile, taking the record from Eddie's hands. You decide this is the one and let Eddie know you want him to ring you up.
"So is Charlie like your boyfriend or something" God Munson, real smooth.'
This made you giggle.
"Why do you wanna ask me out or something? You cocked your head.
"Yeah, or something," Eddie's demeanour suddenly became coy.
"Well, Charlotte is my best friend, no boyfriend. " you take the record off Eddie's hands.
"Oh ok cool-cool”
Seconds of awkward silence filled the air, you could sense he wanted to talk to you more.
“Yea, well um”-
“You think I could have your number?" He asked while fiddling with his fingers. His long, thick fingers were decorated with silver rings, scars and chipped black polish. You liked his fingers; he looked like the kind of guy who knew how to use them.
Eddie's personality was more like that of a teddy bear than his outward appearance suggested.
"Sure," You smiled and pulled out an old receipt and a pen from your purse. You flipped it to the blank side and wrote your name and number on the back. "Call me." You winked as you passed it to Eddie before exiting the store.
Eddie couldn't believe what just happened. He locked up as soon as you left, watching to make sure you made it into your car safely. The crime rate in this town was non-existent, but now Eddie knew what was lurking in the shadows. He could never be too careful.
Eddie made it home about half an hour later and was examining the small paper you'd given him. He looked over the pink loopy writing of your name, and he traced over the love heart you'd written in the top right corner.
"What that you got there, boy" Wayne walked into the room and noticed what Eddie had been memorizing. He bent down and picked up the white paper marked in pink ink off of the coffee table. "Well, well, well, I'll be damned," He huffed with excitement. It was about time Eddie put himself out there.
"I bet she's real cute." He winked at his blushing nephew.
"Yeah," Eddie sighed, thinking about your face.
"If you need any tips, let me know." Wayne smiled.
"Huh?"
"I'll have you know I know how to treat a lady right, so when you come begging for help, I'll be right here." He patted his shoulder.
"Yeah, okay, Mr. Cassanova." Eddie scoffed. Wayne had never been with anyone since Eddie entered his life.
"Whatever," Wayne mumbled under his breath as he exited the living room to give Eddie some semblance of privacy. He would be able to hear the whole conversation, but he still wanted to give the illusion of privacy to his boy.
When the phone rang, you had been wrapping Charlie's present in your bedroom.
"I got it!" You yelled out to your roommates, rushing over to the other end, praying that it was Eddie on the other end.
You let it ring two more times as you took a deep breath before picking it up.
"Hello," You smiled.
"Hey, uh, this is Eddie."
"Hi, Eddie," you smiled. He could tell it was you by your voice. "I'm glad you called." You played with the phone cord, wrapping it and then unwrapping it from your fingers as you spoke.
"I was wondering if you were free on Saturday?"
You jumped up and down, giddy he was asking you out, when Charlie and Evan, your two roommates, rounded the corner to see what had gotten you all googly-eyed.
"I work Saturday until three, but I'm free after" You look at your roommates and Charlie's mouth "Who's that"
"Great, I -uh- was thinking we could maybe see a movie or dinner or both; yeah, both are good." Eddie cleared his throat.
"Yeah, both are good," You giggle back.
"Great, I can pick you up around six, that okay?"
You agree and give him your address. You wish him a good night and hang up with phone with the biggest smile on your face.
"Okay, spill, who was that." Evan and Charlie corner you before you can escape.
"You know the music store on Main St.?" You grin.
"Yea," they say in unison.
"I was in there tonight, and the guy who works there, Eddie, asked me for my number, and we are going out on Saturday."
"You mean the scary guy with the hair and the nasty scar on his face?" Evan's eyes widen.
"Trust me, he is not scary," you giggle.
"Okay," Evan draws out. He was always protective of you.
"Trust me, you should have seen how timid he was; he's really sweet." You reassure them.
"We need to get you an outfit!" Charlie jumps into action, heading for your room.
"Wait!" You rush by her, shoving the gift under your pillow so she can't see anything.
"Something I should know? any particular reason you were at the music store tonight?"
"Nope! No reason at all; I saw a cute guy and thought I would shoot my shot." You brush off
"Yeah, okay," She totally knew.
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Eddie was frantic. This was honestly and truly his first date. He doesn’t count the disaster of a night that was Jackie Manning in the fourth grade that had been wiped from his memory.
Eddie was bouncing around the house from room to room, trying to gather things he needed for the evening. He wanted this to work. He wanted to get to know you. He wanted to build something, he was already a twenty four year old who’s never been in a relationship or had sex. And he wanted those two things so badly. He was lonely, and he missed his friends from Hawkins, but he could never go back, not after everything that had happened. And because of everything that happened was the exact reason he was still a virgin.
The pressure to please was building in his head as the time started getting closer to 6:00pm.
“Don’t psych yourself out, kid.” Wayne watched as his nephew flew around the house. “You’re making me dizzy.”
“What if she thinks I’m a freak like everyone else?” His sentence tapers off as his voice turns into a mumbled whisper.
“Son, listen to me. This town is no Hawkins. You do not need to hide anymore, and you never know. Maybe she’s more of a freak than you ever can be,” his uncle laughed.
“Not helping.” He rolls his eyes, walking back to his room. He was looking for the new cologne he bought for tonight. He sprits it on himself maybe one too many times, but it didn’t matter, he was sweating so much he needed to change his shirt, again.
Looking into the mirror, he couldn't help but notice the scars that crisscrossed along his torso. It was obvious that his scars had a story, one that was filled with pain and struggle. Despite feeling self-conscious, Eddie took a deep breath, reminding himself that he was more than his physical appearance. With care, he fixed his hair and pulled on a black long-sleeved collared shirt, hoping it would provide some comfort and confidence.
With one last deep breath, he worked up the courage to grab his keys and walk out the front door.
“Good luck, be yourself, don’t forget the flowers and open the door for her damnit! I didn’t raise you to be no brute!”
“Got it!” Eddie yelled out before shutting the door with a click.
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As you were lost in thought, a distant rumble of an old engine caught your attention, and you instinctively turned towards the window. You noticed a striking red two-door sedan pulling up to the front of your house, and your eyes were immediately drawn to Eddie as he stepped out of the car. He exuded an air of confidence, wearing a sleek black leather jacket that complimented his impressive physique. You couldn't help but watch as he flicked the butt of his cigarette onto the ground and crushed it under his black boots.
Your gaze moved up his long, toned legs, admiring the way they looked in his fitted black jeans, to his slim waist and broad shoulders that seemed to dominate the space around him. As he walked towards the trunk of the car, his movements were so graceful that they seemed almost rehearsed. He retrieved what looked like a bouquet of flowers. You couldn’t help but fucked him as you watched how he walked up to the front porch. He looked like pure sex, and you couldn’t wait to climb him like a tree.
Yeah, it has been a while since you last got laid, and this date with Eddie was getting your hopes up that that streak will soon come to an end.
The closer he got to the porch, the more the butterflies built in your stomach. The knock on the door shot you up from where you were perched, and you quickly made your way down the stairs.
“Hi” you smile brightly as you open the door.
“Hey,” Eddie smirked shyly as he took you in. It was like he forgot to breathe for a second. How could someone be cute and sexy at the same time?
“Hi” you repeated.
“I got you these.” he passed you a cute bouquet of pink and purple flowers.
“Thank you, Eddie.” You smile and smell them, finding your bashfulness.
“For us, you shouldn’t have!” Evan comes up and takes the flowers out of your hands
“Okay, bad boy, have our girl back by midnight” Charlie comes up from behind you, giving Eddie a once over.
“Charlie?” Eddie points.
“Oh, you talked about me? I’m flattered,” your best friend pecks you on the cheek.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are?” Eddie motions to Evan.
“Evan” he smiles and puts his hand out to shake. “The unspoken about roommate.”
“Don’t worry about him. He’s just salty. I’m going out, and he’s stuck at home with Charlie and her new Dio album,” you smirk.
“Well, I hope you enjoy, I’m personally a fan of track 8,” Eddie rocks back on his heels.
“I like him; he’s the boy version of me.” Charlie nods in approval.
“Okay, let’s go.” You grab Eddie's arm and close the door behind you before your roommates can say anymore.
Eddie walked you to the passenger side of the red sedan and opened the door for you.
“Thank you,” you smiled, and Eddie jogged to the other side.
The car ride was a little quiet but not long. Eddie jogged out to the other side and opened the door for you with a smile.
You talked a bit more before the movie. He bought the popcorn and drinks. He didn’t open up much about why he moved, but you spoke about your interests and your future goals up until the movie started.
During the movie, you tried to pass signals to him to make a move. You rested your hand out so he could take it, but it seemed that he was engrossed in the film. You tried leaning in closer so he could put his arm around you, but nothing. So you pulled a Hail Mary and rested your hand on his thigh. You felt his body stiffen under your touch, but the. He relaxed a little and took your hand in his.
You glanced over at Eddie, and he was grinning at you. The light off the movie screen reflected off the deep scar marking Eddie’s cheek. God, he was beautiful.
“What?” Eddie whispered.
Shit, did you say that out loud?
“You’re beautiful.” You whispered back confidently. Something about Eddie told you he wasn’t complimented often, but you wanted to change that.
“Oh,” Eddie blushes, the red crawled up his chest, and he felt his ears burning bright red. Thankful for his long hair and the dark theatre.
After the movie, Eddie didn’t let go of your hand until you got to the car; then, when you both were back in the car, he bravely reached over and took your hand in his once more.
Dinner was lovely; he pulled out your chair for you, and he opened up more to you about himself. He was extremely charming and funny, vibrant and animated, and he made you feel alive. Eddie was such a breath of fresh air compared to the men from your past.
By the end of the night, you didn’t want it to end. You drove around for a while before you both decided it was for the best to take you home.
Like the perfect gentleman he had been all night, Eddie walked you up to your door.
“I had a really nice night with you.” You smiled up at him. He made you feel like a teenager again.
“Me too, Sweetheart.”
Your heart soared at the nickname.
Eddie leaned in, hoping and praying he was reading the room correctly. He felt like his insides were going to explode, and he took the risk and kissed you.
Eddie’s hands grabbed your waist and pulled you in closer as you leaned into him. He felt your hands wrap around his neck and bring your bodies closer. His hard frame was pressed against your soft one; he let a soft moan slip as he felt your soft breasts graze his chest and your plush thighs press against his centre.
Eddie quickly pulled away once he felt his cock hardening against your body; the last thing he needs is your thinking he is some perv.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.” Eddie cupped your face, giving you one quick peck before stepping back and trying to cover his crotch with his jacket.
“Goodnight, Eddie,” you smile, and you look at him like no one has looked at Eddie. It made his knees feel like jello.
“I’ll call you,” he smirked; his confidence had grown since he walked out his front door.
“You better”
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Eddie and you have been dating for two months now. Everything had been going well, everything but your sex life, or lack thereof.
Eddie hadn’t made a move. Nothing went past makeouts and heavy petting, and you were starting to get insecure. Everything else was amazing, but nothing ever led to anything more.
You had tried to initiate sex, but every time you were turned away, even a blow job, Eddie made an excuse for you not to go past kissing.
You were pulling away, and Eddie could sense it. He was absolutely fucking this up, but his inner thoughts were his worst enemy. How could you be with someone as inexperienced and deformed as him? Could he please you? What if he finished in ten seconds? He would be mortified. But all of that felt like nothing if it meant losing you.
Tonight, he would change that. Tonight, he had the whole evening planned. He had the house to himself as Wayne was also out with a lady friend he had met at the town bar. Things were looking up for the Munson men in California.
After your date with Eddie, he invited you over to his place for the first time. His house was beautiful; you wondered how Eddie could afford a place like this? He had already disclosed to you he had purchased it all on his own.
“Are you a part of the mob” you joke as you take in the house.
Eddie chuckled and led you further into his home.
“You want a drink?”
“Yeah, whatever you’re having,” As you make your way over to the large sofa you take a seat and let out a deep sigh as you sink into the comfortable cushions.
The room is quiet, save for the sound of Eddie shuffling around in the kitchen, and you begin to feel a little uneasy in the silence, not knowing what to do to fill the time. Thankfully, Eddie walks in with two beers in his hands, and you can't help but smile at the sight of him.
He hands you a beer and takes a sip of his own before heading over to the stereo to put on some music. As the music starts to fill the room, you begin to feel more at ease.
“So, where is your Uncle?” You ask casually.
“Out for the night, we have the place to ourselves.” He smiles as he sits down beside you.
“Oh, so he is gone the whole night?” You ask, trying not to get your hopes up.
“Yep,” he ended his word with a crisp pop.
“That’s good.” You nod your head. “Sure is a big place to be alone in.”
“Wanna keep me company?” Eddie nuzzled his face into your neck.
“Yes,” you sigh as the beer in your hands has been completely forgotten. Finally, you were going to spend some much-needed alone time with Eddie.
You push back so you can turn your head to kiss Eddie. You turn your body so you can get a better angle. Eddie cups your face pulling you closer, he wanted to feel you, all of you.
You needed to feel him more, too; your pussy was in control; you swung your leg over his lap so you could straddle your man. Your hips started moving on their own. Grinding down onto Eddie’s lap. Eddie hands travels from your face down your back to cup your ass pulling you closer. His cock was already hard; you felt how big he was through his taught jeans. You pull away to slip your hands under his shirt, but Eddie grabs your wrists hastily.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” You ask worried. The grip on your wrists was firm. “I thought you were into this?” You feel like you are folding into yourself.
“I am!” He was quick to correct you.
“Do you not want me in that way?” Your voice was so small.
“No! I mean, yes, I do, I really, really do.” He shakes his head.
“Then why don’t you want to do anything with me?”
“I do, fuck, sweetheart. I really do. It’s all I think about.” He stroked your hair reassuringly.
“Then let me.” You tried unbuttoning Eddie’s jeans, but he stopped you once again. You were fighting back tears of embarrassment. You were throwing yourself at him, and he was rejecting you time and time again.
“Sweetheart, wait, I have to tell you something… well, two things.”
“What it’s it, baby?” Now you were nervous.
“I-shit- I want this to be… be so good for you, but I’m…not really…experienced.” he avoided eye contact, and it finally clicked.
“Eddie, are you a virgin?” Your question with no judgment or malice in your tone.
He slowly nods his head, looking down in his lap.
“Baby, that doesn’t matter to me.” You hook a finger under his jaw to make him look at you.
His wide eyes were sorrowful like he didn’t want to disappoint you.
“Yeah?” He whispers.
“Yeah,” you confirm with a kiss as you lean down into him. Slowly, you started rocking your hips into his lap once again.
“Sweetheart, there is uh-one more thing.” He pulls away; you can already feel his thick cock beneath you.
“If you’re not ready, we don’t have to do anything.”
“No, no, I-I want to. It’s umm. Shit”
“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” you cooed.
“I kinda have to if I want to sleep with you…”
“Okay, Eddie. Take your time.”
“My uh- scars. They’re everywhere." he gestured to his middle, " And I don’t want you to be grossed out or whatever.” He was bitterly honest with you. All of his walls came tumbling down, and you felt like an ass for not even considering his feelings about the situation.
“Eddie,” you sighed.
“No, I know what I look like, and it’s not normal. I don’t want you to get scared off or worse because I really like you. And god, I wanna have sex with you so bad it’s all I can think about that makes me sound so perverted- but it’s true. I want to be with you so bad.”
You cut him off with a kiss. A deep, sensual kiss that makes Eddie forget his own name.
“Let me take care of you,” you whisper into his lips.
“You don’t have to. I want this to be about you.”
“No baby, you do so much for me. Let me do this for you” You kiss down his jaw to his neck, sucking a dark purple mark until you’re satisfied and Eddie is withering underneath you, trying to get any sense of friction.
Your hands explored his waist above his shirt, feeling his body. It was bumpy, and there were ridges where you were not used to, but it didn’t deter you from wanting to be with him.
You could feel his body stiffen when your fingers traced over his scars.
“Is there any place you don’t want me touching?” You whispered.
“No, no, touch me- please.” his chest moved up and down with his heavy breaths.
Eddie’s body felt like it was on fire. No one has ever felt him in this way. He needed more but didn’t want to press you. So he let you take your time.
Your hands once again tried to break past the barrier of his shirt. This time, he let you as your warm fingertips worked their way up his tummy, feeling his skin beneath you.
“Can I take this off?” You ask.
Eddie nodded his head frantically; he trusted you and wanted nothing more than to keep going.
He sat up a bit, letting you shuffle the soft cotton over his head.
Your gaze didn’t break from his body. It was so beautifully mangled you could see he had skin grafting scars all across his chest and sides.
“I get it if you’re not attracted to me.”
“Hey,” you grab his head in both hands, forcing him to look at you. “I’ve never wanted to be with anyone more than I want to be with you right now.” You take a hand off his face to grab his hand and guide it to your soaked panties.
Eddie’s eyes widen with surprise as he feels your pooled slick in your panties.
“Holy shit,” Eddie gasped.
“I want you, Eddie. I want you so bad. I want to make you feel good.” You grind yourself on his hand before you slink off his lap and onto your knees in front of him.
You were about to give him the best blowjob imaginable. You didn’t know what Eddie went through, but you knew he was one of the most genuine guys you’ve ever met, and he deserved this moment.
You were quick to unbuckle his belt and pants before guiding your hand up his still-covered cock. Your fingers are hooked under the elastic waistband of his boxers, and his pulsing cock sprang free.
Your eyes widen at the sight in front of you… you knew he would be big, but you weren’t expecting him to be that big. How has he been hiding this from you all this time?
“What? What's wrong?”
“Eddie, you’re huge,” your mouth hung agape. In front of you is a cock at least eight inches long and thick, with a slight curve to the left.
“What? No.”
“You’re joking?” You laugh.
Eddie looks at you with a blank stare. Maybe laughing while his cock was out wasn’t the best idea.
“Eddie, I’m serious,” you take his length in your hand. “This is the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.” It felt heavy in your hand.
"Really?"
"Really, I don't think it's going to fit?" You chuckle, a little worried.
"Can- can we at least try?" Eddie stutters.
"Don't worry, baby, I always like a challenge."
You didn't let Eddie respond before your mouth was enveloping the tip of his cock. You swirled your tongue around the head before taking as much as possible without triggering your gag reflex.
"Holy shit" Eddie instinctively grabbed your hair as you lowered your head down the shaft. His face scrunched up in pleasure.
"You like that baby?" You ask, popping up for air, your hand replacing your mouth.
"Yes," he sucked in a sharp breath as your hand applied the perfect amount of pressure to his cock.
"I can't believe you've been holding this secret from me for so long, naughty boy." You smirked before taking him back in your mouth.
" I-I-didn't-fuck! Didn't know?" Fuck why had Eddie been holding off on this feeling? This wonderful feeling of your beautiful mouth surrounding his length.
You worked your head up and down his head before Eddie pulled you off unexpectedly.
" I'm gonna come if you keep doing that."
"That's the point, baby." You smiled.
"But I wanna have sex," He rushes out.
"Okay." You smile, and you both stand up, taking his hand in yours. "Wanna show me your bedroom?"
Eddie frantically nods his head yes before he pulls you up the stairs to the bedroom. You giggle behind him as he runs up the stairs, trying not to trip as his pants and boxers are wrapped around his ankles.
He rushes the both of you over to his bed, and he lays you down before him before you can take off your clothes.
"Tell me what you want," you coo, tucking a piece of hair behind Eddie's ear as he hovers over you.
"You, I want you so bad," he whines between kisses.
"Good boy," you smile, and Eddie swears his heart stops beating.
"How do you want me?" you ask as Eddie's hands explore every inch of your still-clothed body.
"Naked." He kissed the exposed skin of your neck.
"Mmmm, good boy, tell me what you want," you say as Eddie's mouth finds your sweet spot.
You hear Eddie whimper at your praise, so you decide to keep pushing. In a moment of intense emotion, something inside him breaks. A deep longing takes hold of him, compelling him to be nothing but a perfect and devoted man for you. The thought of being your good boy fills him with an unfamiliar sense of need, one that he has never encountered before.
"You like it when I call you that, baby?"
Eddie mumbles an answer into your neck.
"What was that? I couldn’t hear you."
"Yes, please, I want to be your good boy." He rutted his bare cock against your wet panty-covered core, and it sent a wave of pleasure through you.
"Oh, Eddie," You moan. "help me take off my clothes," You ask sweetly.
Eddie waisted not another second before your shirt was over your head and your skirt ripped off of your hips. You managed your bra while Eddie did the honours of revealing your swollen wet pussy.
"How do you want me?" you ask as your fingers trace your pussy lips before opening your legs wide for Eddie to see you play with your pussy.
"I've died and gone to heaven." Eddie's eyes were wide as he took in your body.
"I want you to feel me, baby." you reach out for Eddie's hand and guide it back to your pussy like you had downstairs. You slowly guided his thick fingers through your folds, collecting your slick before you showed him where your tight hole was.
“Holy shit” Eddie couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch you like this.
"It's okay, you can go in" You rocked your hips into Eddies and hoping his fingers would breach your cunt.
"Oh my god," You say in unison as his long, thick finger stretches you out ever so slightly.
"You're so tight." Eddie slowly tests the waters as he pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy.
"mmmm, think about how good it's going to feel when my tight little pussy is wrapped around your big, thick cock"
Eddie's brain short-circuited, his hand stopped moving, and you let out a giggle when you realized you had broken his brain.
"Can I?"
"Just a little bit more warming up, baby. You're just so big I need to get ready for you." You bat your lashes at him.
"fuck you can't say things like that to me."
"Why you don't like it?" You tease.
"Quite the opposite, sweetheart."
"You wanna know a secret to a woman's pleasure?"
"Yes"
"You gotta pay a lot of attention to right here" You guide his hand to your swollen clit. You let out a moan when his fingers make contact with your bundle of nerves.
You show him how to circle it, and Eddie couldn't believe the sight below him. He was giving you pleasure. He could tell by your blissed-out face he was doing a good job; he was being your good boy.
"Fuck I need you now," you moan, feeling your orgasm build.
"I have condoms," Eddie blurts out.
"Good, go get one," you breathe heavy with lust. Eddie hops off the bed, almost tripping over his pants that were still wrapped around his ankles, making you giggle.
You watched as he reached his nightstand opening the drawer. Your pussy was throbbing, and you couldn’t take your eyes off how his shoulder blade jutted out, and his back muscles rippled and dipped through the large scar that covered most of his left side. Your eyes travelled down, and the perfect view of his perky ass was right there for the taking. So you can’t help yourself as you reach out and swat at it playfully, making Eddie jump.
“You’re a little minx.” he turns quickly, wrapped condom in hand.
Eddie quickly crawls back into the bed before unwrapping and rolling the condom down his throbbing length. Then he froze, not knowing what to do next?
“How do you want me, Eddie baby?” You playfully twirl a piece of his unruly hair around your finger.
“Can-can you be on top to start?”
“Layback for me.” You un-twirl your finger from his hair and gently push his shoulders back so he can get comfortable.
His cock lay flat against his stomach, passing where his belly button should have been.
Slowly, you wrap your legs around his body, aligning your centre with his. You take his girth in your delicate hand and guide his cock to your wanton hole. You glide his tip through your pussy lips a few times, teasing and collecting your slick before slowly sinking your way down. You let out a shaking breath as he splits you in half.
It took everything within Eddie to not rut his hips up into you; his knuckles turned white as he gripped the sheets beneath him, trying to do everything not to plant his feel so he could to hold back.
He’d never felt anything so heavenly. You were so fucking tight around him. He couldn’t believe how amazing this felt. Your pussy was his own personal paradise, and he was never leaving.
“Fuck-fuck-fuck-“ you stuttered as your pussy adjusted to his size. The burn was long but so good, you wanted more of him.
Eddie watched as your pinched-up face relaxed, changing quickly from uncomfortable to pure pleasure when you reached the hilt.
“Holy shit,” Eddie swore he could have come right then and there if he wanted it. But he didn’t want it, not yet. God, he be damned if he didn’t make this moment last forever.
“You like the way my pussy is wrapped around your fat cock, big boy?” You start to rock your hips slowly, teasing the man who is falling apart beneath you.
Usually, you were always the one in his position, but you felt a power you’d never experienced. You wanted to be in control tonight; you wanted to make this so good for Eddie, your sweet Eddie with a monster cock.
Eddie jerked his hips up, and your pussy clenched. “Oh fuck!” Eddie cried as your muscles contracted around him. This was it; nothing could ever be better than this right now.
“You feel that honey? How tight my wet warm pussy is for you?” You start to bounce, and Eddie, stood, corrected.
He tried to hold on as your tits started bouncing in his face as you worked yourself up and down on his cock.
“Touch me,” you panted.
Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. His hands snapped up to your hips gripping you tightly before he ran them up to your swollen breasts.
You throw your head back as Eddie pinches your nipples, exposing your neck. Eddie acts on instinct, wanting to ravage you, he sits up and latches his mouth onto your exposed neck, then down your chest to your perked nipples.
“Oh baby,” you cry at the sudden movement beneath you. The new angel only sank his cock deeper into your cunt. He was filling you so good, you’ve never felt this full.
“Can I - can we switch?” Eddie can’t take it he needs to fuck you, like really fuck you.
“Yes,” you were completely fucked out.
You let out a squeak as Eddie man handles you to be underneath him. He wastes no time pounding back into you the second your back hits the mattress. His sting hands are gripping your hips so hard you’re sure there will be finger shaped bruises. He nearly took your breath away as his hips snapped into your dripping pussy, your walls pulsed around him as his cock grazed that sweet spot that is deep, deep inside.
“OH EDDIE” you scream, eyes rolling back into your head.
It was music to Eddie’s ears. He wasn’t going to last much longer. He needed you to finish. He suddenly remembered the advice you gave him minutes before. His hand grazed down your body to your clit.
His touch sent a zap of pleasure through your core, only making your pussy tighten even more. His fingers worked your pussy slowly, a contrast from how fast he was thrusting into you.
Moans of ecstasy escaped your throat as your brain shut off. You were no longer in control; it was all Eddie.
“Baby, you still with me?” He coos in your ear.
“Fuck Eddie, don’t stop! I’m going to cum!” You wrap your legs around Eddie to pull him closer to you, not that it was possible. You wanted him buried inside of you forever.
“Come on, baby, come for me.”
You broke at his words. Your orgasm ripped through you as he worked his cock through your tight grip. Eddie broke as soon as you did no way he could hold on any longer.
A loud roar rips out of his chest as his seed spurts out of him into the condom that is buried deep inside of you.
“Fuck me, you sure that was your first time?” You giggle, still totally fucked out.
“Yep, guess you can say I’m a natural sex god.” his ego was definitely boosted.
“Mmmhmmmmm,” you nod in agreement. Rolling over to wrap a bare leg around his body.
Eddie couldn’t believe his life could be this sweet. He wrapped his arms around you and fell asleep with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.
Tags!: @nailbatanddungeon @s6raphic @3rd-conchord @sadbitchfangirl @gri959 @reidsbtch @taintedcigs @skyline4446 @babygorewhore @mmunson86 @paybacksawitch @lesservillain @imyourdaninow @bimbobaggins69 @liminalpebble @keeksandgigz @lightcommastix @wtfmariaclara @st4rgirll3 @ali-r3n @xxhellfirebunnyxx
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spicyllewyn · 7 months
Text
Kinktober 6. - Mirror sex.
Moon system x F!Reader
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Tags & warnings. Mirror sex + hair pulling. (+18)
Word count. 2.8k
Summary. Marc got tired of Steven and Jake breaking his rules.
Kinktober masterlist.
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So far, the agreement had been going relatively well. You were in a serious relationship with Marc at first, you met in a café like those silly romantic movies, with the small difference that you almost killed him by spilling your cold drink on him and tripping over him.
Neither of you could deny that things were moving very fast, but everything with him was so ridiculously easy that you weren't afraid to give him your all. You told him about the pet you lost when you were young, about the disagreements with your parents, and the occasional traumatic event in your life. He did the same.
When he told you about Steven and Jake, you joked that he was winning the trauma competition, and he could breathe easy knowing that this was not even close to being an obstacle to your relationship. He could trust you.
Things began to get a bit out of control when everything also became easy with Jake and Steven, each with their own personal charm. You never imagined being with three very different guys, but starting to experience it was a real adventure. The problem was that while you were having fun, they had endless discussions about you and the boundaries they set for each other.
Well, the boundaries that Marc set.
The main and biggest one was that marks on your body were prohibited. He understood that all four were part of the relationship equally, but he also used something he liked to call "privileges of having met you first and being the main reason why everyone is together." Or something like that, he always changed the name for it, the thing is he couldn't help but be a jealous man, he hated that Jake and Steven would forget who you belonged to first.
The first one to break the rule was Steven, unconsciously. You didn't know anyone who was a bigger fan of make-out sessions than him, and when his kisses got deeper, more desperate, he had the habit of holding onto your hips as if you were about to run away at any moment, or as if he wanted to verify that you were real and that you were in his arms, devouring his mouth as if you depended on it to live.
That, combined with the fact that he had a terrible habit of forgetting that his muscles were stronger than he thought. You tried to be as discreet as possible when his fingers left marks on your skin, but with someone as touchy as Jake, it was impossible to keep secrets about your body.
He took it as a challenge, of course. If Steven could break the rules, why couldn't he?
The next day, you could be sure that he saw you as a blank canvas because your neck, your shoulders, and even your breasts were covered in bites and hickeys. You didn't remember him being so aggressive, but maybe pleasure had blinded you.
"What is this?" Marc held your chin, turning your face slightly, just enough to get a better view of your neck.
"It was Jake." You chuckled, still distracted by your phone as you let him guide you, without noticing how his jaw clenched, but feeling his fingers tighten on your jaw.
"Darling?"
Your eyes traveled to him.
"Mhm?"
"Will you come with me to the bedroom? We need to talk."
With a furrowed brow, you obeyed because the hand that held your chin ended up in one of your hands, pulling you as if he were a child wanting to show you something very important.
"Am I in trouble?" You joked as you watched him close the door behind you.
"Sit on the bed."
"Am I...?"
His brown eyes on you were enough for you to obey once again.
"Could you explain to me what the hell is this?" His hand in your hair made you turn your gaze away from the mirror you had in front, leaving the marks in plain sight.
You immediately understood who he was talking to.
Or whom.
"Oh, come on, hermano." Jake rolled his eyes in the mirror's reflection, his arms crossed over his chest. "Steven broke it first."
"False!" The mentioned objected after. It seemed like a competition of who could make Marc lose his patience first. "I would never do something like that."
"Check her hips if you don't believe me."
Raising an eyebrow, Marc released your hair.
"Stand up, sweetheart."
If there's one thing you've learned over time in this relationship, it's that it's not worth objecting when one or all three of them are arguing, especially when you don't even know what the problem is. You stood up slowly, wearing Steven's blue sweater that you slept in, which only covered half of your thighs.
He slowly lifted the edge of the fabric, his fingers brushing your thighs and causing a slight shiver. You could swear you heard him growl when he found the damn marks that fit perfectly with the size of his hands. Some of them were covered by your panties but they were pretty visible, already turning to a purple color.
“I-I didn't even notice those were there!”
“Why can Steven do it and I can't? That’s a damn injustice if you ask me.”
“Fortunately, Jake, I'm not asking you.” He rolled his eyes while you tried to imagine what the other two boys responded to him from the headspace. "On your knees."
The cold of the floor on your skin felt good and you had to look up to meet your boyfriend's chocolate gaze. You never had a problem following his orders.
“The problem here…” His fingers ran through your hair slowly, making you close your eyes for a few seconds. “They are forgetting who you belong to. Who do they think they are to mark my girl like this, huh?” He cooed, the gaze of the other two fixed on him.
Your hands went to the hem of his pants, and when he didn't object, you understood well what he wanted. A small smile spread across your lips as you freed him from his tight black jeans, as well as his underwear.
He wasn't completely hard yet until your tongue ran along his entire length from base to tip.
“I want you to show them who was your first, my love.” Your fingers, as if you were an expert, wrapped around his cock, giving it a squeeze before beginning a slow, up-and-down pace. “Who you think about every fucking time you cum.”
You couldn't see it, but in detail you imagined the way Jake was rolling his eyes.
“It's a punishment for all 3 of you, you understand, don't you, honey?” His eyes boring into you as you kissed all around his cock wetly. “What makes you believe you should allow yourself to be treated that way?”
You parted your lips, taking the head inside before starting to suck. That always gave him chills, the way you didn't rush.
“No-oh.” His fingers tangled in your hair, those soft caresses had stopped. One push of his hand and you had half of his erection inside your mouth. He groaned.
Although you enjoyed taking your time and savoring every inch of Marc, he seemed to be in a hurry, you thought that perhaps the clumsy and aggressive way in which he was directing your head movements was part of the supposed punishment.
Were you supposed to not enjoy that?
“Push deeper.” Jake's voice caught Marc's attention, who a few seconds ago had been distracted by the messy and sloppy way you were sucking him off. He could have sworn there was a point where the only sound in the room was your saliva every time he slid over your tongue.
Marc looked at the mirror with a frown.
“Push harder.” He repeated, looking up. “Steven always fucks her mouth until she cries, if you want to prove your point push harder. Right, Steven?"
The other boy received an elbow against his ribs that forced him to look up. It seems he was enchanted by watching the way your left cheek bulged against the pressure of the head of Marc's lenght against it.
Still distracted, he nodded quickly.
It was that what resulted in you suddenly feeling him push your head harder. The brush against your throat brought tears to your eyes and you heard your boyfriend grunt. He was never so rude.
You didn't complain, though.
You tried your best to relax the muscles in your throat around him, but you were so caught off guard that a couple of gags only did the opposite, feeling you squeeze him every few seconds until he guided your head back.
Saliva ran from your lips to your chin, some drops ending up on your neck. You broke the string of saliva that joined his cock to your mouth by licking your lips.
You sniffed, looking up before giving Marc a smile.
“Oh, you like that, don't you?” His fingers wrapped around himself so he could hit your tongue with his heavy member. You kept your tongue out, happy to receive it and hear the wet slapping. “Or does Steven do it better?”
Another movement of his hips was so abrupt that you felt your nose eventually collide with his lower abdomen, having to close your eyes as your tears ran down them. Still, you didn't give up, you didn't use your well-known "signal" to ask for some mercy.
Instead you moved your tongue slowly underneath, you only managed to graze his balls with the tip of it but it was enough to get a gasp from his throat. You held on for more seconds than you thought you were capable of before it was Marc himself who pushed you away.
It took you several seconds to even out your desperate breathing, you wiped your lips on the sleeve of Steven's sweater.
"Stand up." He ordered. His chest rising and falling rapidly. Jake's smirk on the other side of the mirror screamed at him that he knew. He knew Marc would finish stupidly quickly if he kept fucking your throat like that.
You swallowed hard before standing on shaky legs, the intense heat between your legs beginning to burn through your entire body, without receiving any kind of attention the only thing you could feel was the way your insides clenched around nothing.
"Turn around." Your cheeks took on a reddish color as you remembered the two pairs of eyes that were on you on the other side of the reflection. You slowly turned your back on him, your fingers gripping the wooden cabinet that held the huge mirror. “You better not close your eyes, I want you to look at them.”
Marc's hands took care of the job, pulling the hem of the sweater up to your waist and pulling your panties down to your ankles. You didn't need instructions to spread your legs and raise your ass for him.
He positioned himself behind your body, holding his cock for help. The tip separated your lips and you flinched when it brushed your swollen clit, it was just a couple of brushes as if he wanted to collect your juices on it in order to make penetration easier.
Although with you dripping and him full of your saliva, at this point it was just his pettiness and his desire to make you beg. You lifted your hips higher.
Marc looked down, his hand positioning itself exactly over Steven's finger marks and with a single movement you felt him slide inside you. Your legs trembled as you received him this deep and rough way, an action that you recognized as more typical of Jake.
“M-Marc, fuck, Marc.” You stammered as your body tried to get used to his size. No matter how many times you had done this, it was like your body insisted on giving him that death grip that drove him crazy.
"That's it." He caught her bottom lip between his teeth in a lousy attempt to silence her gasps. “Louder, baby, remind them who's fucking you.”
Somehow you felt like Jake and Steven's eyes burned into your skin. You couldn't look in the mirror, not while you were babbling Marc's name between moans, with that look that made it obvious how cockdrunk you were with just a couple of thrusts.
When Marc hit that sweet spot that made you vibrate from head to toe, your eyes closed automatically, your head falling downward.
"No." He growled, his hand rising to place it in your hair where he tangled his fingers. The sudden tug he gave to your locks made you snap your head up and let out a loud gasp, your eyes snapping open. "Look at them."
On the other side Jake was leaning slightly so he could be at your face level, analyzing every small expression of pleasure he saw in you. Your cheeks are flushed, your pupils are dilated, and your lips are red from biting them so much.
Steven was too lost in his own thoughts to object anything, the truth is that he was enjoying this new angle he had to see his cock splitting you and making you whimper more than he would like.
“Tell them how good I'm making you feel, honey.” He cooed, his fingers giving your hair a harder tug to force you to keep your head up. “Remind them who was the first to break that tight little pussy.”
You stifled a moan, making your bottom lip bleed with a bite.
“Tell them.” He growled, his fingers squeezing your hips so hard you feared your body was going to give up at any moment.
“I-It was you, Marc.” You whimpered in pleasure as his thrusts pushed your body forward, you were already on your tiptoes so as not to end up with your entire body against the furniture.
“Repeat it, I want them to listen to you.” His entire length remained still inside you, brushing against that spot that made you lose your mind. "Louder."
Your parted lips took in deep gasps of air and you had to swallow hard to recover your voice by moistening your throat a little.
“It’s you M-Marc.” He didn't give your hair a break, he was pulling with his fingers so hard that it was starting to hurt. “Fuck, Marc! A-Ah, fuck. It’s you, it’s you, only you.”
Bold of you to assume that Jake wouldn't have that in mind the next time he had his turn with you.
“Fuck her harder.” Marc looked at the mirror when the opposing voice caught his attention. “Come on, she can take it.” A mocking smile appeared on his lips, only irritating Marc even more.
Still, he obeyed.
You could hear the slapping between your bodies every time he thrusted into you. Your legs were threatening to stop supporting your body weight as they began to shake, your entire body feeling small spasms as you got closer and closer to the end.
“Marc?” Steven's soft voice caught the attention of the other two. His pupils were dilated and there was an adorable blush on hid cheeks. "Touch her."
Marc grunted when he realized that this wasn't the punishment he'd originally thought, but who was he to say no to Steven? The hand that was holding your hip slowly slid between your legs, separating your pussy lips with his fingers and then pressing his thumb against your sensitive clit.
He immediately felt your little hole tighten around him.
“Circles.”
“I know how to touch her, Steven.” He growled in your ear, only reminding you of the pair who were probably enjoying the show. The pleasure you were experiencing was too much to rescue the few grams of shame you might have somewhere on your body.
Your nails scratched the wood of the furniture in front of you.
“Cum all over me, honey.” He managed to whisper between moans. Two more thrusts of his body snatching the air from your lungs. “I bet they’ll like it.”
And that was enough for the wave of pleasure to make your body tingle from head to toe, your walls milking Marc until he followed you immediately after, filling you with his warm, thick liquid, which he pushed deeper inside you with a couple more strokes.
For a few seconds the only thing you heard along with the ringing in your ears was Marc's heavy breathing. After a moment his fingers gripped your hips, drawing your attention.
He gave you one more thrust and you squealed, sensitive, overstimulated.
“Marc.” You complained, looking up at the mirror in front of you once more as you tried to catch your breath.
On the other side, Jake's smile greeted you, almost playful.
“Let's see which name you can shout the loudest, princesa.”
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Tag list. @ninebluehearts @shousha133 @unear7hly @onefinnedwonder-fm @automnepoet @lokisremainingsanity @uncle-eggy @just-a-nightdreamer @spktrgantenk @chinglewingledingledong @queerponcho @faretheeoscar @spideyman-peter
Remember to comment if you want to be on the kinktober tag list!! <3
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tired-biscuit · 1 month
Text
A friend, a mate, and all things in-between
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18+ MDNI, fem!reader/werewolf!bsf!kiba
premise: after finding out the truth about the role you supposedly play in kiba’s life, you settle on a compromise of taking things slow and seeing where the wind takes you while you’re at it.
cw: monsterfucking, knotting, implied breeding, mounting, size difference, omegaverse themes, werewolf saliva used as aphrodisiac. college/modern AU, friends to lovers, established mating bond, jealousy, descriptions of a close call-cheating encounter in the past, usage of sweetheart and bunny as pet names for reader.
wc: 22.8k
find part one here!
———
On Saturday, Kiba takes you out for dinner, exactly like he’d promised.
The restaurant by the lake that you’ve decided to visit is quaint as much as it is familiar. The lighting is dim but warm, and the tables are clean even if some of the edges have been smoothed out with age and use. Pictures and framed newspaper articles cover the walls. All of them feature your little town in some way or another.
There’s a pleasant tune playing on the tiny, white speakers that are fixed in the corner. You’re pretty sure you’ve heard the song on the radio before. The easy-going notes resemble the elevator music you sometimes hear whenever you go shopping at the local mall and have to reach the garage underneath, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad, necessarily.
If you had to describe the place, it reminds you of a diner that’s gotten stuck in the past, that is if a diner was situated next to a lake and the modern aspects of it were entirely excluded, of course.
After all, there is a shiny new coffee machine sitting behind the counter, and the waitress is wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt instead of a uniform and rollerblades — the latter being a missed opportunity in your opinion.
But speaking of time; both yourself and Kiba used to come here all the time back when you were younger, even going so far back that your feet were left dangling in the air as soon as your butts had plopped onto the same plushy chairs you’re sitting in now. Making choices was easier back then — the only food you ordered had come from the kids menu.
You can still hear his, ‘Are ya gonna finish that?’ somewhere in the back of your mind. 
As well as his mother’s immediate hiss of disapproval, ‘For goodness’ sake, boy, let the poor girl eat her food in peace! With the way you’re acting, people are gonna start thinking that I don’t feed you enough.’
In the beginning, you both ate here with your parents. Afterwards — when the soles of your sneakers were able to firmly touch the floor and Kiba had won the bet and got his driver’s license well before you did — it was mostly just the two of you.
But as you sit across from him at the table that’s situated right next to the window, and which you’ve personally favoured for years — you know that he prefers the one that’s in the corner — you come to realize that this date is different from all the previous ones that you’ve been on in this exact place with him.
Because unlike the rest, this one is actually for real.
And it shows, you think. In many ways, with the most obvious one being the fact that your best friend has tidied himself up rather nicely despite the high temperatures outside.
There are jeans instead of gym shorts on his strong legs, and clean shoes on his feet instead of the busted sneakers that he swears up and down are still holding on just fine. He’s even gone through the hassle of putting on a short-sleeved button-up with a pretty pattern that cleverly melds into the colour of the cotton if you’re looking closely enough — not that you are!
In classic Kiba fashion, the top two buttons of his shirt are undone; open just enough for the glint of a thin golden chain to catch your eye whenever he tilts his head to the side or stretches his neck.
You haven’t been staring at the piece of jewelry for long, wondering where or who he’d gotten it from, however you can still tell that there’s no pendant hanging off the necklace. No charm or initial either.
Good.
Wait, wait, wait… why is that good? Are you by any chance hoping that he’ll agree to wear yours because of it?
The thought succeeds in heating up your face with stress — a popular emotion this entire situation has been evoking as of late. Ever since he had admitted that you were his mate back in the tent, you’re still feeling the pressure of deciding if you actually want to be one. 
And placing a mark like that on him, clasping your golden initial around his neck and consequently announcing that he’s your property now… It’d signal just that, now wouldn’t it?
Attempting to whisk away the dilemma that’s been plaguing your mind for the last couple of days, you force your eyes to dip from your best friend’s neck, down to the plate of half-eaten food that you’ve still got sitting in front of you. 
Your grip on the fork is tight as you chew. The food is good, even if you can’t taste it all that much from how absent-minded you are.
In a mere instant, Kiba is leaning in to ask, “You okay?”
He’s always asking that as of late.
Are you all right?
Is everything okay?
Are you sure?
“Yeah.” The nod you give him is so stiff and fast that it comes across as unnatural instead of genuine. “I’m fine.”
You try to ignore the curious smile that curls his lips as he continues to watch you eat, undoubtedly inhaling the anxiety that riddles your scent in subtle waves now. 
He’s learned that it intensifies whenever his foot accidentally touches yours underneath the table. That it doubles in strength whenever he looks you in the eyes for too long. Sometimes it even happens when he grins. Practically everything seems to be setting you off today.
You’re nervous, that much is clear. Are way up in your head about this entire thing just like you are with everything else that happens in your life. And while finding out that you’re basically a perfect biological match for your best friend is no small feat, the young werewolf’s opinion remains: you need to fucking relax. 
With how hard you’re squeezing that fork, it’s making him fear that you’re trying to split it in half — an act that he definitely wouldn’t mind doing to you again.
Woah there, reel it back in, lover boy… Easy!
Willing himself to push the dirty thought away by thinking about the food he’s eating instead, Kiba swallows the bite of steak he’d just been chewing on with a small, albeit conflicted sigh. 
The meat tastes rich despite the fact that it’s been served nearly raw — the bloodier, the better when it comes to dining with a werewolf, you suppose — however, he finds it hard to fully appreciate the meal when unlike his taste buds, his libido is far from appeased.
“Anyways.” He pauses to glide the tip of his tongue across his front teeth, further appreciating the savory taste that’s stuck there before he leans in slightly closer again. “You look really pretty tonight.”
Hearing his compliment, you look up from your plate; carefully eyeing him from underneath your lashes which you’ve taken the time to coat with a thin layer of mascara before leaving the house. It was a decision made solely for your own peace of mind.
Well, probably. 
Taking a shallow breath now, you ask, “I do?”
“What kind of stupid question is that… ‘Course you’re pretty, bunny. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever had the pleasure of layin’ my eyes on,” he says, chuckling quietly and propping his cheek against one palm with such ease that it’s almost scary.
Watching you succumb further into yourself in response to his niceness is entertaining as hell, he can’t lie. You’re lost, vulnerable. If looks as sweet as the one that’s sitting on your face right now had the power to kill, he’d be proclaimed a dead man ages ago. 
It compels him to add, “You’ve always been pretty to me.”
Messing with you or not, what he says now is the truth. Sticking by your side in the role of your best friend for so many years, Kiba has seen you be at your best as often as he’s experienced you at your worst, and has nonetheless always, always thought the exact same thing about you: that you’re perfect. 
Perfect for him, that is.
Whether you’re wearing trendy skirts or hoodies so big that they entirely hide your shape, he still likes you all the same. Whether you’re walking around with freshly washed hair and with make-up on your face, or you’re still stumbling around because you’ve just woken up from a nap that has left you all disoriented and sweaty — to him there’s no difference as long as it’s you.
Part of it is the bond’s doing. It veils you with an appeal that draws him to you no matter what. However, whilst that may be the case, he thinks that the majority of his wild infatuation has to do with plain familiarity instead.
After all, it’s your heart that is his favourite thing about you, that much he’s positive about… Even if the shy little smile that you give him now could be considered quite the competitor. 
And quite the competitor it is! Kiba’s eyes are practically glued to the wet-like sheen of your lip gloss when you slowly shake your head to chide a meek, “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” he inquires immediately with a grin of his own.
“Stop flirting,” you say, placing the fork back onto your plate with a soft clink. Crossing your legs underneath the table, your body language is trying its hardest to appear strict as you add, “We said we were going to take it slow, remember…? Or are you just playing dumb on purpose?”
“What’re you talking about; we are taking it slow,” he says, his tone a matter-of-fact one. “Actually, I doubt it can get much slower than this.”
Your lips purse in response. “Talking in a way that makes you sound like you’re trying to get into my pants does not mean slow, Kiba.”
“You’re not wearing any pants, though.” His gaze slips down to the light sundress you’ve put on for the night. It makes your tits look great, but he knows you wouldn’t be happy to hear that.
You snap your fingers in front of his nose, forcing him to avert his attention from your dress. “That’s besides the point and you know it.”
“Oh, c’mon.” He takes another bite of his food, then points his fork at you, seemingly in an accusatory type of way as he mutters, “I’m just saying… If we did it my way, I would’ve bent you over ages ago.”
“Can… Can you not?! God.” You fight to extinguish the heat that immediately begins to simmer on your cheeks, but it’s proving to be quite difficult. The warmth is so strong that it even manages to travel down to the base of your neck. “Just… be quiet for a second, okay?”
His upper lip twitches as his grin widens. “Why?”
“Just ‘cause!”
Kiba huffs a laugh at the slightly higher pitch that you speak in now, shoulders shaking the tiniest bit. He watches you clear your throat and readjust in your seat, and even goes as far as to drag his gaze from your face to your neck when you reach over to take a small sip of the cocktail you’ve ordered. It still sits on the table looking half-full; creating a prominent circle of moisture on the crispy white table cloth underneath. 
The drink is colourful and summery. Even has a little paper umbrella on top. He had joked about how girly it looks earlier, but had secretly considered ordering the exact same thing just to see what the inside of your mouth must taste like. After some consideration, he’d ended up settling on a coke though.
He knows you’d nag him to no end about drinking when he’s the one who’s driving… even if alcohol doesn’t do shit when it comes to him.
Still, girly drink or not, the ice somewhat succeeds in cooling you off and poses a challenge to the sudden heat of bashfulness that threatens to sweep you off your feet. It’s like all your senses have gone acute all of a sudden.
The sigh you let out because of it is one of only partial relief.
“What’s the matter? You hot?” Kiba teases instantly, his voice dropping so dangerously low that you can almost feel it reverberate in your bones. “Hot and bothered?”
“Shut up,” you hiss before taking another sip, this time a larger one. You need it if you wish to endure this menace of a man.
“What’s in it for me?” the mentioned menace questions now, taunting you with that infuriating half-smile that he knows damn well provokes you immensely. He even goes as far as to wiggle his eyebrows as he gives his best effort to purr, “Does it make you feel things, mm? Makes you wanna— Hey!”
His taunting gets replaced with a huff of disapproval when you suddenly kick him in the shin, making the fork rattle atop your plate. The kick itself is nowhere near to being powerful enough to actually hurt him, considering his thick skin and the firm cords of muscle that hide underneath, but it does get the message across. Kind of.
“What’d you do that for?” A playful little pout sits on Kiba’s mouth now. It makes him look younger than he actually is; makes him resemble the kid that you spent all your time with back in high school, as well as all the years prior to that. 
“Because it was well deserved, you dumbass,” you mumble, still staring at his face. A small, slightly less nervous chuckle bubbles up your throat when he bristles in answer. “Now be quiet and eat your dinner.”
Not even batting an eye, he blurts out, “I’d rather eat you, though.”
You give it your best shot to scowl at him even if the tease sparks heat somewhere inside your middle all over again. It’s the reason why your voice doesn’t sound as strong as you want it to be when you say, “You’re hopeless, you know that? Actually hopeless.”
“Actually, I think I'm quite on my game tonight.” He gives you a wink, reaching for his fork again. “But you can keep tellin’ yourself that if it makes ya feel any better, sweetheart.”
He’s right. 
It makes you sigh.
———
The rest of your first proper date with your best friend goes well. Scarily so.
In fact, neither of you picks up the phone during the entirety of it. The only exception is when you decide to stalk your old classmates from high school together and share a good laugh about some of the results you stumble upon.
“Oh shit, he’s actually completely bald… What the hell?”
“Called it! I fuckin’ called it!”
Your face hurts from laughing so much and with the initial nervousness gone, dinner goes smoothly. You end up sharing dessert and talking nearly until closing time — releasing the growingly impatient waitress from your clutches at long last and mumbling sheepish apologies along the way because of it. 
To be honest, the entire outing isn’t much different from all the previous ones you’ve indulged in the exact same restaurant all those years ago.
However, you soon find out that that is because the change in your dynamic presents itself afterwards; when he turns to look you in the eye the second you sit in his car and asks you if you want to go to his place, despite the fact that it’s getting late and he doesn’t live with his mom anymore.
And you go. You nod your head yes and you fucking go. For what reason, you, yourself don’t know, but you might as well find out while you’re at it.
So around quarter to midnight, you arrive to the little apartment that Kiba calls his new home. It’s cozy and a little messy, though not to a degree that should cause concern. Otherwise, it’s lived in and definitely your standard guy apartment.
He shows you the kitchen, immediately rolling his eyes when your gaze lands onto the small pile of dishes in the sink — two cereal bowls and a mug that for some reason says ‘World’s Best Dad’ on it — and points you in the direction of the bathroom, his roommate’s bedroom, and finally, his own room, which you tell him you’ll take a look at some other time, preferably during the day and when you don’t have three sugary cocktails coursing your blood and clouding your better judgement. 
You did say that you were going to take it slow, after all.
By the time he drags you into the living room, you let out a small gasp of joy when you come face to face with Akamaru, who lays curled up on the couch, depicting the epitome of comfort.
Scurrying to sit down next to the big pup and offering him your hand to sniff so that he can hopefully recognize you despite not seeing you in years, you begin to understand what Kiba had meant with the term ‘senior dog’ during your camping trip earlier.
Christ, he’s gotten so old.
“So, what do you think?” your best friend calls out from the hallway now. He’d gone there to hang up your jacket for you at first, but it seems like he’s also using the chance to turn off the lights as he goes. 
…As well as to run off into his room to change his fancy clothes for a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a simple T-shirt. Typical.
“It’s a nice place. Pretty spacious.” You’re too busy petting Akamaru, pretending you aren’t interested in him when he throws himself onto the couch right next to you, even if your body tenses up just the tiniest bit at the closeness.
You’ve already fucked him, for crying out loud — several times in the span of one night. What are you acting so damn nervous for?
“But?” he mumbles, seemingly not noticing the subtle change in your body language as he crosses his ankles and flicks on the television. 
“What do you mean but? There’s no but,” you chide in answer, still scratching the white canine behind the ears and really trying to put all your focus into the movement instead of the warmth of your best friend’s body that is slowly spilling into your side now. 
The brown patches in Akamaru’s fur have gotten dull in colour with old age. His eyes look tired and he’s also nowhere as lively as he used to be, though he still puts in the effort to give you an appreciative little wag of his tail when your fingers dig into the sweet spot that you remember is hiding underneath his chin. 
“There’s always a but with you,” Kiba insists, changing the channel yet again. He’s not paying attention to the TV, not really anyways, but he pretends that he does just so that you can breathe a little easier.
However, when you turn your head so that you can shoot him a glare for the sly remark, you catch him staring right back at you with that stupidly lovestruck smile playing on his lips.
Lowering your gaze, you try to act like it doesn’t cause butterflies to start fluttering inside your belly. Meanwhile, he tries to act like he can’t smell the sudden sweetness that the feeling evokes in your scent.
“Oh, fine.” You pause, ceasing the petting for a moment. “I suppose it could use a little bit of a woman’s touch here and there… And you definitely could’ve washed the dishes prior to inviting me, but that’s all.”
“For your information, I didn’t wash the dishes ‘cause it’s Kankuro’s turn to do ‘em,” he says. And grins. “And if the place really needs a woman’s touch as badly as you say it does, then you’re more than welcome to touch it all over.”
“Kankuro is your roommate, I take it?” you ask, choosing to skip over the thing he’s hinting at. The butterflies still continue to flutter, though.
“Yep,” Kiba replies, playing with the remote now. The symbol on the power button has long since faded out with use and it doesn’t surprise him really. Him and Kankuro had found the TV on Facebook Marketplace. Bought it so cheap that it felt like a steal.
You listen to the quiet click of claws as Akamaru slides off the couch and ventures down the hallway, aiming straight towards Kiba’s bedroom. He’s probably going to use the chance to hog up as much space on the bed as he possibly can before his owner can beat him to it. Smart dog.
“What’s he like?” you inquire. “This Kankuro guy?”
“He’s, you know… Kanks is just a regular dude as far as I’m concerned,” your best friend says, still staring at the remote. “Cleans up after himself and is good with Akamaru. He does that cosplayin’ shit from time to time, though… Paints his face for those anime conventions that you see online and stuff. It’s pretty dope.”
“Does he know about,” you trail off, making sure to lower your voice just in case, “you know… The whole howling at the moon thingy?”
“Fuck no.” Kiba shakes his head, his lips curling into a smile. “You, Hana and mom are still the only ones who know, but now I’m kind of starting to think that I should’ve kept it a family secret instead of telling your dorky ass about it… Howling at the moon thingy? What are ya; twelve?”
You stick your tongue out at him at the remark. He tries not to stare at it for too long.
“Say…” A couple of moments pass. Your gaze dips to your lap as you ask, “How come you never told Tamaki?”
The mention of his ex-girlfriend makes Kiba want to cringe. His smile falters, twitching downwards at the corners, but he forces it to remain at least semi-present despite the fact that you’re not looking at him. Either your hands must have become the most interesting thing in the world, or you’re ashamed for inquiring about his past relationships.
“Ah, you know,” he mutters after a short moment of silence. His tone sounds very distant out of the blue. “Just never found the right time for it, I suppose.”
You hum at his answer; just a little noise of acknowledgement. “You never found the time even after being with her for… several years?”
How could he, if it also meant having to explain that he was eternally tied to his best friend; the girl he’d always assured her that she shouldn’t be worried about?
Kiba gives a hard, obvious swallow, unable to stop his jaw from clenching a little. “Yeah.”
You pick at your nails, pretending there’s something underneath them in order to appear busy. “Do you miss her?”
“I, um… I think I used to, but I definitely don’t anymore.” He sees the dumbfounded look you give him now and scrubs a tired hand over his face. “I know it sounds awful when I put it like that, trust me, I know, but the bond between me and you doesn’t let me feel things like… that anymore. For other people, I mean. It’s just… It’s a bitch to explain.”
He had loved Tamaki. Perhaps he still does; in a way that would never be enough for her and that is considerably less than what she actually deserves, but after finally connecting with you, his mate, the mere thought of ever being intimate with someone else again repulses him greatly. 
He’d tried to make it work. To give her what she’d desired, deserved. Every embrace, kiss, conversation, trip, and so much more. However, you’d always been right there, sitting in the back of his mind during it all. And now that he’d gotten the chance to place his mouth on yours, and had tasted you, had been inside you, he feels so fucking stupid for even attempting to do such a thing in the first place.
It’s either you or nobody.
“So, anyway… Cosplay, huh?” you ask randomly, clearly trying to brush the heavy topic away despite being the one who initiated it. 
He blinks, slowly. “What about it?”
“You really think it’s cool?”
“Yes,” he snips all of a sudden. The change of tone makes you even more puzzled than you already are, especially when he adds, “Is it that hard to believe or somethin’?”
“Well… yeah,” you mumble while scratching your cheek. It’s a challenge to contain the surprise that tries to show on your face now; your eyebrows are insisting on rising up nearly to your hairline. “I mean, the Kiba I know would’ve straight up bullied a person like that.”
He blanches at your statement. “That was one time! I was just being honest with the poor suckers when I told them that carrying Yu-Gi-Oh! cards to school is the reason why they’re all still virgins… In fact, I was probably doing them a favour!”
“No,” you object. “You were being mean.”
“Then it’s a good thing that we’re not in high school anymore, I guess.” He flicks the remote onto a nearby pillow and crosses his arms behind his head before he says, “And just so you know, I’m not just some mean asshole that you constantly keep referring to me as. People can change. Myself included.”
“I didn’t–... I didn’t mean it like that,” you reply a bit too fast, feeling every blink your eyelids make. His gaze is unmoving from your face and it’s causing you to become hyper-aware of your body. “I know there’s more to you than just acting like a prick, come on. I wouldn’t be friends with you otherwise.”
He sighs in answer, his face tight. You do the same.
Awkwardness settles in.
“Uh,” you utter at some point, finally daring to look up at him again. “Want to tell me the reason why you like it, though?”
“Like what?” he asks dumbly.
“Cosplay.”
“Oh.” A brief second passes before he, at long last, chuckles. You’re relieved to see his shoulders sag a bit with it. “Well, if I’ve gotta pick one thing, I guess it’s ‘cause most of the chicks are dressed in those hot, skintight bodysuits?”
“Seriously?” A pang of jealousy resonates within you, but you do your best to repress it. It’s too early to be feeling all that. “That’s the best thing you can come up with? Girls in tight bodysuits?”
“No, I’m just messin’ with ya, hah…” He grins, but swallows thickly again and runs his fingers over the back of his head before he continues, “While those are nice, don’t get me wrong, I guess I really like it because it’s like Halloween, in a way?”
“Halloween?” you repeat, even more confused.
“Yeah.” He gives you a nod that could almost come across as sheepish. “Someone can dress up as something that’s supposed to be big and scary, and when people see it, they aren’t… Well, they aren’t afraid of it, necessarily? Instead they just think it’s cool and fun, you know?”
Finally, Kiba tears his gaze from your face, allowing it to settle onto his lap instead. Silence stretches between you once more as you continue to stare at him. Your head tilts to the side just as his drops lower, and you make the decision to reach out so that you can gently pat his knee in understanding.
Your entire body begins to glow from within when his hand rests atop your own. He traces your knuckles and gives them a gentle squeeze. The sensation is truly something you haven’t had the chance to experience before with anyone other than your best friend. There’s just so much nostalgia hiding in the small portrayal of affection.
The tone of your voice slips into something soft because of it, so soft that it comes across as barely above a whisper even to his sensitive wolf hearing when you ask, “I take it that that someone is you, in your… other form?” 
“What? No, I, uh… It’s not me.” He lets go of your hand to awkwardly clear his throat, trying to ignore the sudden ache that appears in it before he sits cross-legged and rests his elbows on his knees. 
By the time he’s ready to speak again, he’s already fiddling with his fingers. “Besides, even if I actually wanted to go, I still couldn’t. I’m far too big for that. Far too… scary-lookin’.”
He wants to though, you can see it bright as day. Can see that he’s tired of hiding a whole other half of himself — a half that he’ll unfortunately have to keep hidden for as long as he lives. Tired of making excuses and being overly cautious when he’s the exact opposite of it, and missing out on important events whenever they’re set on days following up to a full moon. Tired of receiving weird, uncomfortable glances whenever instinct takes over and his true nature pushes forward a bit too far past the barriers, when all he yearns for is to be liked.
Just… fed up with it all.
However, you also know that Kiba hates being perceived as vulnerable. So rather than moping with him and indulging his sadness and thus worsening it, you instead use the chance to snort and playfully nudge him in the shoulder. 
“Oh, yeah?” you say, making sure the lilt in your voice is overly noticeable. “Is that so?”
The nudge you give him makes him look up, as does the sudden change in your tone. At the sight of your friendly smile and the challenge simmering in your eyes, his expression eventually lightens to something a bit less stormy.
You’ll do just about anything to drag your best friend out of the bubble of melancholy that he’s surrounded himself with. 
And the best thing about it? You know that he would’ve done the same for you.
“Yeah,” he says, playing along now, albeit reluctantly. He’s still not quite where you want him exactly, but you’re getting there.
“Well, how big and scary are we talking, big boy?” you continue to inquire, wiggling your eyebrows. 
“I–” He snickers at your flirtatious prodding, rolling his eyes right afterwards. “Too big for anyone to handle,” he says, “and that includes you.”
“I don’t believe that.”
Can he truly get that big? You’ve never had the chance to see him turn full wolf yet, so his statement causes your stomach to fill with warmth. Heat travels downwards, over your thighs and between your legs, and you swear that you can hear him inhale a breath that’s slightly deeper than usual when it happens. 
The unannounced nerves are making you want to start pacing around the room, but you force your body to keep still.
“Well, you not believing me ain’t my problem, now is it?” he says, his smile suddenly wistful now. The light that comes from the TV makes his unnaturally big canines glimmer with moisture. It’s hard to not look at his mouth because of it. 
Words slightly wobbly, you manage to say, “I’m your mate, though.”
Mate. He perks up at the word, just like he always does, but his voice doesn’t make him sound particularly fazed as he utters, “And?”
“And that makes me your problem,” you explain, finally daring to move so that you can scratch your cheek again. It’s nothing more but an attempt at self-soothing. “Doesn’t it?”
You’re unsure why you’re pushing on this specific topic — especially after being the one who had once again suggested taking things slow in the first place — however, to be fair, you’ve been curious about it for a long while, even before you’d tangled yourself into this whole ‘bonded for life’ mess.
But now that the link has been revealed, the desire to lay your eyes on the unthinkable has become as potent as ever.
There is just something so undeniably appealing about the idea of seeing him in his werewolf form. Something thrilling in discovering the unknown; touching it with your hands and grazing it with the tips of your fingers. Something reassuring in accepting all of him, especially after he’d just partially trusted you with his insecurities revolving around this specific topic.
So yes, it’s either that, or it’s the newly discovered monsterfucker that’s been hiding inside you this whole time that’s talking and coaxing him into showing himself now. Or perhaps it’s both. Who knows?
You try to feign indifference to the best of your capability as you wait for his answer, even if every single inch of you is buzzing with relentless expectation. 
With bated breath that could very well match your own to perfection, Kiba inches ever so slightly closer, seemingly completely unintentionally. His gaze is laser-focused as he studies every feature that your face provides. The curve of your jaw, the shape of your lips, the colour of your eyes — he burns it all into memory before he at long last settles on the upper corner of your left cheek.
His burning stare causes your heart to pound faster than it normally would, and you know that he can hear it despite the fact that his ears are nowhere near your chest. Still, you insist on not moving a muscle. Insist on being brave.
“I’m too big for ya,” he says finally, gesturing over himself with his hand. “This is all you’re gonna get after you’re done playing the ‘takin’ it slow’ game with me.”
You bristle, clearly displeased with his answer. “But I’m–”
“It doesn’t work like that,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “Believe me, I wish it would, but it still doesn’t change the fact that you’re only human.”
“Humans can adapt! And being one, as you’ve so kindly pointed out, I’m pretty sure I can take it,” you object, heart still going thump, thump, thump! Something tells you that this isn’t just about cheering him up anymore. “Actually, I know I can.”
If he’s fucked you like a feral animal without transforming, how off the rails can he get if he doesn’t have anything holding him back anymore? 
You tense up when he gives you a harsh, almost derisive kind of laugh. Sit straighter when he says, “I’d tear you to shreds.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
“The point is that I could.” The corners of his mouth twitch downwards at the horrible thought. “And that’s not something I’m willing to risk.”
You roll your eyes. “Since when are you one to say no to taking risks?”
“Since last week,” he replies. “Give or take.”
“You mean…?” A quick wave of heat washes over your face again. You went camping last week and he’d slipped into rut whilst sharing a tent with you; accidentally confessing everything that’s tied him to you ever since he’d first laid eyes on you all those years ago. 
He nods. “You’d be surprised how much being with a mate can change a wolf… I’m boring as fuck now.”
“But I don’t want you to change! I love you just the way you are,” you find yourself saying. The reason must be that last cocktail you persuaded yourself into ordering and eventually drinking. It’s untied your tongue like it’s nothing but a measly shoelace.
Nevertheless… 
Love.
Kiba’s breath hitches at the word, deeply-rooted emotions swelling within his broad chest, however he — very painfully — chooses not to ask to hear it again as soon as the subtle whiff of anxiety wafts over to his nose.
You’re embarrassed because of what you’ve just said. It makes his chest squeeze to the brink of pain.
“I mean–” you start, fumbling with your words. “I–”
“It’s okay,” he says, patting your knee as casually as he’s able despite the fact that the smile he gives you now seems just a smidge too tight. “I know what you meant. Now stop making it awkward or I’m gonna fucking lose it.”
Hyper-sensitive — his touch lights your skin on fire. His palm barely moves from its initial spot, but you can feel every callus to adorn his fingers, every minuscule stroke, as well as the reassuring squeeze that makes you want to straight up jump his bones.
And fuck, it’s nice. So nice, in fact, that it persuades you to stop him when he goes to pull his hand off your leg.
“Wait… don’t.”
“Mm?”
“You can touch me.” The words roll off your tongue before you can reel them back in again, but you still decide to put on your bravest front even if your upper lip is a second away from quivering.
Short-lived surprise crosses Kiba’s face. You watch with nervous eyes as his hand falters before it eventually settles on its original spot again. He grasps it more firmly this time. Squeezes with intent instead of reassurance.
There’s a beat of unsure stillness in the air before he brings himself to ask, “Like that?”
You give him a nod, feeling a little more confident while also paying mind not to be so tense. There are so many things you have to keep track of; god, why can’t you just relax and be more like him? Everything has to be so darn complicated whenever it comes to you! 
“Bunny,” he says, his tone still slightly unsure. “I thought I told you to stop making it awkward.”
Phantom lightning strikes your insides, melting them into liquid. “I’m not making it awkward.”
“‘Course you are. You’re completely stiff.” His grip tightens and it makes your eyes grow wide and your body turn even tenser in response. 
His own eyes aren’t their usual chocolate brown shade when he lifts his gaze to look at you again, but they sure are dark as sin. 
“See?” is all he says, a little out of breath. 
“I’m not,” you insist, the sentence completely useless. Your throat feels terribly dry all of a sudden. It makes your tongue stick to the roof of your mouth. “You’re just… imagining things.”
He quirks one brow. Repeats your challenge from earlier with the same tone, “Oh, yeah?” 
You bite your lip — a lame attempt to refocus. “Yeah.”
But before you know it, he uses one hand to shove you until you’re laying flat on your back, sinking deeper into the couch cushions, causing you to let out a little noise of startlement. 
His head pops into your field of vision as he hovers over you now. Aside from the light that comes from the TV, the room is shrouded in darkness. It makes only half of his face visible, however you can still see the glimmer of his teeth when he smiles down at you.
“You’re still sure about me imagining things?” he asks, clasping his fingers around the fat of your thigh. “‘Cause this is looking pretty real to me.”
“Y-yes,” you reply, challenging him further. “I’m sure.”
His grin turns wolfish as he drags his gaze over your somewhat disheveled form. Across both of your collarbones, now exposed due to the thin spaghetti straps of your dress slipping off your shoulders slightly, as well as the rising hem that’s slowly showing off more and more of your legs.
He’s looking at you like he’s planning to eat you. But rather than digging in, all he does is sneer as he says, “Brave words for someone who oddly resembles a plank right now.”
Well… that certainly wasn’t what you were expecting.
“Fuck you,” you drawl in answer, a mere hint of disappointment crossing your features — disappointment you’ll never admit to feeling. Urging your body to relax once more just so that you can prove him wrong, you instead try to focus on calming down your breathing.
However, it’s hard to do so when your best friend is literally on top of you, watching you with hungry eyes and the most complacent of smiles. Hard to do so when his fingers are now toying with the string that ties the front of your dress together and holds your tits in place. Hard to do so when—
A small gasp escapes your lips when he jabs you in the side all of a sudden.
The bridge of your nose scrunches in annoyance. When you try to stop him from repeating the action, he just takes you by the wrist and uses the chance to pin it above your head. “Don’t do that.”
“Or what?” He huffs a laugh at your weak attempt to fight back. Pokes you in the side again, making you whine. “What are you gonna do ‘bout it, hmm?” 
You don’t say anything as you squirm underneath him, trying to break free from his grip, but your efforts are to no avail. He’s got you locked in tight; has even made sure to pin your other hand the same way he did the first one when you tried to use it to push him in the chest.
“C’mon, bunny,” he taunts, his smile growing, growing, growing. Gosh, he really is such a wolf, isn’t he? “Is that really the best you can do?”
“No, it’s just not fair,” you say, trying to tame your pulse. The position you’ve wound up in is making your mind wander to all sorts of things. Dirty things.
“What’s not fair?” he asks, rubbing his thumb across your wrist.
“The fact that you’re so much stronger than me and expect me to throw you off like it’s nothing,” you mumble, huffing as you look up at the spot where he’s pressing down on your wrists. “I mean, how am I supposed to do anything, when you can hold me down with just one hand?”
The way his pupils widen with obvious excitement at your statement should concern you, but you know better than to think that he’d ever actually hurt you. It’s just the predator in him playing. A side he cannot stop from slipping into the spotlight every so often. A side he feels safe enough to share with you.
He likes being described as big and overpowering. Call it a guilty pleasure.
“Try using your legs,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with want. You can still distinguish the smile in it though. “I heard bunnies are supposed to have quite a kick to ‘em.”
“I’m not an actual bunny, shut up,” you fuss, but do exactly as he says. You kick your legs…
…and end up wrapping them around his waist instead.
Flustered warmth sears your face, neck and chest all over again as your ankles lock on the small of his back seemingly by their own accord. The skirt of your dress hikes up with the movement, exposing more of your thighs; offering him a glimpse of your cutesy underwear that you didn’t think twice about wearing because you weren’t planning on starting anything with him tonight.
And yet here you are.
The rise in temperature that you’re feeling all over blazes into something more profound now. Heat gathers in your stomach. Your legs. Between them, too. Anticipation tightens your skin, bringing the blood that runs underneath it to an angry simmer.
Kiba’s smile slowly fades when he senses the particular tension that now riddles the air around you. You stare at each other even if it’s hard for you and easy for him. For fuck’s sake, it feels like he’s burning holes into your fucking forehead when he looks at you like that.
“What is it?” you ask, nerves working overtime. “Do I have something stuck in my teeth?”
“You smell so fucking good when you’re turned on, did you know that?” he rasps in answer, completely ignoring your question and pitiful attempt at diffusing the situation. His nose is already leading him to that very tender spot hiding in the crook of your neck.
You flinch when he nudges your jawline, silently asking you for permission to give him more space. Not trusting the lump of nervosity that’s taken up residency inside your throat to not betray you all of a sudden, you allow it wordlessly and by angling your head slightly to the right.
“Your scent is so… I can smell how wet your cunt is even from here, god,” he trails off without an ounce of shame, every word lower and lower in tone. He takes another deep breath. Savours it with a soft groan. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart.”
Embarrassment flashes through you like lightning does a stormy sky. The realization that he can immediately pick up on the scent of your arousal — as well as the aftermath that the ability brings — is overwhelming. 
It makes your heart thrum even faster than it did before. Consequently, your thoughts are now nothing more but a jumbled mess as you desperately attempt to tame your pulse back into a rhythm that’s normal instead of completely erratic.
But it’s not just you who’s having a hard time. The muscles in Kiba’s arms have gone completely stiff and his inhales are deep and audible instead of calm. He only pauses them to press cautious little kisses over your neck, most of which he eventually starts mixing with even smaller nips with the help of his teeth.
You’re pouring with sweat because of it. His apartment is warm, too warm even if it didn’t feel like that before, and his mouth is hot just like his tongue is as it repeatedly presses against your sweet spot. The action even causes goosebumps to appear all over your arms and legs. Great.
“Relax,” he mumbles, the tip of his nose practically smushed against your neck. “We’ve done this before.”
“What makes you think that we’ll do it again?” you hiss, fighting tooth and nail to appear authoritative. It doesn’t come off as strongly as you want it to, though.
“Call it a hunch,” he says, unable to resist a smirk. “Or whatever.”
Your lips remain a firm line. Unimpressed. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“Sure am,” he trails off with a lazy grin as his fingers brush the side of your neck. He looks at you. And winks. “You can be too, if you wanna. Full of me, I mean.”
“N-no?! The hell,” you splutter out, squirming even more. Sly motherfucker, damn him. “I thought I told you-”
“Relax! C’mon,” he repeats, huffing another laugh. “You know damn well that I’m just fucking with you, sorry, messing… No need to lecture me all the time.”
You roll your eyes. “You say that as if you can actually be lectured in the first place.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Did it ever cross that naggy mind of yours that I don’t listen to you because I don’t want to, and not because I can’t?”
“Oh yeah, many times,” you reply, glaring at him. “Drives my naggy mind crazy.”
He muses like a satisfied cat at your statement. “You drive me crazy.”
“Stop hitting on me!” Your entire face scrunches up in annoyance. “Sweet talking isn’t gonna get you laid.”
“Then what will?” He drags his tongue along your pulse point. Blows air on the trail of saliva so that he can watch you writhe at the cold sensation to overcome you, then. “You want me to chase you around a lil’ bit first? Play a little game of prey versus predator with ya to get you to sit on my dick tonight?”
A small groan of agitation is the best you can do when it comes to answering his taunting.
“Or do you want me to really work for it, hmm, bunny?” His grip tightens around your wrists. As if to serve as a reminder. “Even though, judging by how you’re lookin’ right now, I could just take it all for myself either way?”
Your breath hitches in the back of your throat. “You wouldn’t.”
His upper lip curls, revealing those sharp canine teeth again. “Yeah, you’re right. I wouldn’t.” 
But he could.
Still, your breaths continue to intermingle. Doubt gets overridden by lust. Hands explore; one pair of them courageous as it can be, the other perfectly timid in contrast. The former even uses that courage to hike the hem of your dress up to your waist, completely exposing your lower half amidst all the grinding and writhing that’s slowly, but surely, coming into fruition. 
Kiba looks like he’s already won as he leers between your legs with that obnoxiously knowing glint in his eye and the equally as infuriating half-smile. 
He seems to be aware that you’re trying your absolute hardest not to react to the obvious bulge that’s in his sweatpants now. That you’re trying to ignore the rushing thrill that surges through you whenever he presses it against your traitor of a cunt — which still hides under the plain cotton panties you apparently swore you wouldn’t let him see tonight.
So he pushes it against you again. And again. Applying pressure, rubbing, testing out the playing field, waiting for you to tell him to stop. 
You don’t though. No, all you do is bite your lip in order to suppress the moan that’s impatiently waiting behind your clenched teeth and wiggle your hips whenever the hot contact strikes.
“Fuck, you’re so cute.” He can’t hide how entertained he is as he mumbles, “You want my cock? ‘Cause I’ll more than gladly give it to ya.”
A low hiss slips past your lips when his hard-on manages to bump your clit over the layers of clothes. It makes your brows furrow and your legs squeeze around his waist even tighter. 
“I didn’t–” You pause to close your eyes and inhale a rather wobbly breath. By the time you open them again, he’s already staring right back. “I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to,” he says, his own eyes flashing with what you think could be pride. “I can already tell from how fuckin’ soaked you are... Look.”
He reaches down between you then, running a single knuckle down your clothed slit. Your hips buck in answer to the touch almost immediately; the damp patch that’s formed on your underwear now turning more noticeable, shaping the outline of your pussy even further.
It makes him yearn to tug your panties to the side so that he can feel the slick coating his fingers before he can push them into your tight little hole, but he knows you’ll cause a fuss and close up on him if he moves even a smidge too quickly for your liking.
Still, the sight nearly makes him drool. His cock twitches. Starts to physically ache with need. It’s not as bad as it was during his rut last week, but fuck… this entire stage of foreplay and trying to lure you into pound town could be a close second, he can’t lie.
“Do you always get this wet whenever someone touches you,” he finds himself asking, “or is all of this just f’me?”
He hopes it’s the latter. Wants it so bad. The mere thought of someone else seeing you like this, touching you, spreading their scent all over you, claiming you, loving you… He’d let you go if you wanted to be with someone other than him, he’s told you so before, but that doesn’t mean that he’d be particularly happy about it.
Actually, he’d be quite miserable. Excruciatingly so.
You give him a pointed glare, face stern. He’s received the same look from you so many times over the years that he’s grown to love it, but you don’t fail to notice how his smile tightens with each passing moment that he waits for you to answer his question.
“Well?” he pushes, unable to resist. His eyes are getting more yellow by the second and his teeth are getting bigger. It makes his voice sound gruff as he says, “Who’s it for, bunny, mm?”
“I’m not telling you,” you say quietly, trying to make sense of all the emotions that are swelling up inside your chest now.
It’s a challenge to do so when they’ve been continuously swept under the rug for years on end and have only just recently been brought back into the open, though. When you’re unsure where your friendship stands. When you don’t even know if the love that your best friend feels for you is actually genuine, or if it’s just a thing that’s been forced forward solely because of the mating bond that eternally connects him to you.
You can’t help but wonder: would he still love you the same way he loves you now even if you weren’t his mate? If he were nothing more but a simple human, unable to connect with someone on such a deep biological level. Would he still fall for you — his best friend?
Or would he still be with his now ex-girlfriend, surely renting an apartment with her and exchanging doting glances and smiles during breakfast every morning, mind completely free from you the second you’d leave for college after every summer?
Would he even be your friend?
What if you’re just a burden to him?
“Hey.”
The sudden pinch that you receive to your left cheek tugs you out of your inner turmoil that has come to plague you all of a sudden.
Kiba’s eyebrows are cinched tight when you blink up at him. A small wrinkle of worry etches into his forehead and continues to deepen with the heavy silence to surround you. Even his jaw seems to be set firmly in place. 
Instead of hot and bothered, he just looks plain worried now despite the gleam of sweat on his brow and the almost sex hair.
“Mm?” is all you decide to let out whilst rubbing your wrists that he’s since let go of.
“You okay?” he asks, choosing to stroke your cheek instead of pinching it this time around. The pads of his fingers are rough, but his touch is surprisingly gentle. “You’ve completely zoned out on me just now.”
“I’m fine,” you say, despite that your chest remains feeling unbearably tight. The urge to touch it as a means to console yourself is hard to suppress, however you’re well aware that it’d just cause him to worry even further. “Sorry.”
“You sure? ‘Cause you smell kind of sad all of a sudden,” he mumbles, wolf eyes still zeroing in on you. He’s following every minuscule movement you make and it’s unnerving. “And I don’t know about you, but that definitely ain’t a thing a dude would want his girl to feel when he’s planning on sinking balls deep into her.”
“Sad?” you repeat, ignoring the lewd comment even if it makes you feel tingly between your legs. His cock, albeit not as hard anymore, is still persistently pressing against your pussy.
“Yeah,” he says. “Kind of like rain.”
This fascinates you. Your expression lightens as a result. “You mean like petrichor?”
He gives you somewhat of a dumb look, biting the inside of his cheek. “What?”
“Never mind, it’s just something dorky we learned in school,” you say, chuckling faintly at the confused puzzlement that now sits on his face. “Forget I said anything.”
He doesn’t respond, so you sigh, running your palm over the side of your neck he’d just been kissing a moment prior. The skin there is still warm. Tender. It makes you shiver when your fingers graze it.
“C’mon, what’s wrong?” he mutters, still eyeing you just as intensely as before. “I can tell whenever something’s bothering you… Spit it out.”
“Nothing is bothering me, okay? Gosh,” you try to reassure him, but still turn your head to the side to stare at the television. 
The movie he’d put on earlier is already halfway through and you doubt he has the option to rewind it. Oh, well.
Watching you dismiss the entire thing, Kiba looks like he’s about to fight you on it, surely getting ready to accuse you of being a liar like he’s had a habit of playfully doing in the past. However, just when his mouth pops open to say the words, you prevent him from doing so by pressing both of your palms on his front and gathering up his T-shirt between your fingers.
He stills only for a second before he starts to push out his chest at your touch, puffing up with male-like bravado as he goes. His shoulders square up. His eyes flash with that sublime yellow colour. And you might be imagining the whole thing at this point, but you swear that even his scent grows stronger in intensity. 
The entire room is engulfed by that signature amber scent now. You peer up at him once more, mind slightly hazy and astounded.
But besides the astonishment, you also feel… soothed. Kind of.
Burden or no burden, he’s down bad for you all the same, isn’t he? 
“What is it now?” he grumbles in answer to the wide look in your eyes. “You’re starin’ at me all weird-like again.”
You swallow the saliva that’s gathered in your mouth for what must be the millionth time tonight. It’s runny and thin, laced with adrenaline. “Are you courting me right now?”
“Huh?” His face twists into a look of pure confusion for a second time in a row.
“You’re pushing your chest out like a bird during one of those mating dances that you see on TV,” you explain, tugging on his T-shirt as if it’ll help you prove your point. “Are you trying to impress me or something?”
“Tsch… What? No... It’s just, ah… The fuck?” He blinks, shaking his head as if he’s trying to get his thoughts in order. His back hunches slightly with the action. You’ve caught him completely off guard.
You smile. “What is it, then?”
“It’s just my body reacting to a mate’s touch, damn… I told you about it in the woods last week, didn’t I? What’s with all the questions all of a sudden?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth once more, apparently unaffected by what you have to say, but also immediately draws back; causing distance until he’s lying between you and the backrest of the couch instead of on top of you. 
You’re not aware of it, but he’s beginning to blush like a sucker after he realizes how that treacherously primal part of his brain had made him react just now — fully without his knowledge.
Trying to appear bigger and wooing you with his scent? What are you, animals? Besides, you aren’t even capable of distinguishing pheromones like he can, for fuck’s sake! What’s he doing all of this weird shit for?!
This time, heat continues to climb up Kiba’s neck instead of yours, and overtakes his entire face with such speed that it makes his cheeks itchy. Even the tips of his ears have turned hot to the touch. He feels like he’s on the verge of melting into a puddle of despair any second now.
Gosh, you must think he’s such a loser.
He doesn’t say anything else as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer until your back is pressed against his chest, feeling slightly relieved to not hear any protests from your side. 
But to some extent, he’s not all that surprised. While you might be taking this entire thing slow, spooning is nothing new. You’ve done it even whilst you were both desperately trying to keep your friendship as something purely platonic instead of whatever it is now. So when you compare it to all the grinding that you did just now, this is angel city.
His voice is barely above a sheepish murmur as he says, “Whatever… Let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”
You don’t mention that the film is nearing its end and that you’ve already seen it in theaters a couple months ago with your friends from college. Nor the fact that you found his little portrayal of desire — as well as the feeling of embarrassment that followed it afterwards — outright adorable and that it helped ease your worries a little bit.
No, all you do is snuggle up closer to him and nod your head yes.
———
Summer passes by quickly when you’re reunited with your best friend again.
If you had to describe the last couple of months with one word, it’d be nostalgic. During the days when he’s off work and you’re not busy with your family, Kiba makes sure to take you on a trip down memory lane one way or another. 
On some evenings, you drop by the small convenience store that you used to constantly occupy as kids, so that you can buy popsicles and then sit on a bench in the nearby park; taking turns licking the different flavours and talking late into the night, or at least until the artificial colouring has been wiped away from your tongues. 
On particularly hot days, you drive to the lake where you’ve both been taught how to swim by your parents in order to cool off, and compete to see who's able to hold their breath the longest. He ends up being the winner almost every time, of course, and never misses the chance to rub it in your face.
You even still do shitty movie marathons, however this time they’re occasionally accompanied by Kiba’s roommate, Kankuro, who you’ve since learned is a pretty cool guy, despite his slightly odd obsession with purple face paint. He’s also the one who’d helped you bake Kiba’s birthday cake back in July.
All in all, things concerning your best friend have remained quite the same as they’ve always been. Well, most of them did.
There may have been a couple of changes here and there ever since you’ve learned you were his mate. 
Some are pretty tame. For example, you can’t brush over the look of pure longing that appears in his eyes as he watches you lick a rogue droplet of sugar whenever you’re sucking on the popsicle he’d just handed you. Or the way his touch lingers on your shoulders and traces down your spine and hips when you ask him to help you apply sunscreen on your back after your swim.
But then there are some of the more twisted kind. Sometimes, whenever Kankuro can’t make it to your movie marathons, you also can’t ignore the way your best friend sighs and grunts and whispers the nastiest of profanities into the side of your neck as you sit on his lap and rub your clothed pussy against the hard-on in his pants.
It’s always done the same way. On his couch, in the dark, and never talked about afterwards since it tends to make you both agitated with even more lust. Your skirt is bunched up in his too-big hands — you’re always making sure they don’t go any farther than that because they try, oh boy, do they try — and there are zero kisses exchanged between you in order to keep things moving slow but still giving him the fix he needs so that he doesn’t slip into another unannounced rut, as he likes to call it.
So far, your compromise shows promise. Over the span of the last couple of weeks, there had only been one single occasion of actual skin on skin contact; when he’d somehow managed to distract you for long enough to pull your panties to the side and pull out his cock from the confines of his clothes without you being quick enough to stop him. 
However, much to his — and secretly your own — misfortune, you’d been mewling his name and rubbing your pussy against him for a long while back then, consequently overstimulating him to great, almost unfair lengths in the process. The second his cockhead had gotten the chance to bump against your soaked entrance, he was not bound to last. 
So he’d spilled everything he had with a sharp hiss and a frustrated “fuuuck” and just like that, you were safe from being pounded into oblivion once again — if you exclude the sticky, cloudy white mess splattering between your thighs, that is.
And that was that.
But now, with summer coming to a swift end and a new school year waiting right around the corner, the time has come for you to say goodbye to your best friend once again.
Kiba accompanies you to the airport and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug when it’s time for you to board your flight, his features unusually impassive during the entirety of it. He leans down to kiss your cheek, surely receiving curious glances from your parents with the act, and mumbles something about texting him when you land so that he knows you’re safe.
You do as he asks of you when you arrive to campus that day, even going as far as to send him a picture of your little student apartment that you share with two other roommates, jokingly calling it a dump. He reads your text message almost instantly, but his reply is curt. When you call him to say good night after you’ve finished unpacking your stuff and settling in, you barely recognize the sound of his voice.
“G’night,” he mutters. “Try not to be a dumbass on your first day.”
The jab is meant to be playful, but instead it comes across as void of any kind of emotion whatsoever. Flat and unlively. You can tell even if he desperately tries to cover it up with more teasing remarks and lame jokes. 
It gets better over time, though. You’re well aware that he’s handling the distance way worse than any other regular human would, especially since he’s a semi-mated wolf now, so you try to keep him in the loop as often as you can. He, on the other hand, tries to give you space and keeps his more possessive side on a tight leash. His main priority is to make your friendship — or should you say situationship — work.
Speaking of his more possessive side, you’ve both made precautions to lessen the chance of the beast within him from going haywire. He makes sure to go completely off the grid during a full moon, and every so often, you mail him a T-shirt or two so that he still has a way of inhaling your scent and thus satisfying the urge to come seek you out. After the scent fades out, he sends your clothes back washed, but not ironed; typical for a man like him, before the cycle repeats itself again.
He’d once, jokingly, not so jokingly, texted you about sending him a pair of your panties instead, however all he got in response to that was an angry wall of text and a series of pissed off-looking emojis. He’d abandoned the idea soon after.
You do indulge him with phone sex from time to time, though. And while you do keep telling yourself that it’s done solely to keep him in-check, deep down, you know that that simply isn’t the case. 
Because when the hour is late, Kiba likes to remind you just how badly he misses you in that warm, rich, confident voice that makes your back want to straight up arch from the bed. Likes to talk about all the things that he wants to do to you with zero hesitance — hesitance you wish you, yourself didn’t have — while he strokes his cock; all until you find yourself reaching into the drawer of your nightstand so that you can hurriedly press your trusty pink vibrator to your clit. 
But it’s not just you who finds him hot — your roommates do, too. They’ve peered over your shoulder once or twice while you were FaceTiming him in the kitchen, fully clothed, of course, and have since been asking for regular updates on your so-called ‘boyfriend’, wondering when they’ll get to meet the guy who’s actually managed to swipe the rug from underneath your feet, in person.
And the answer is: on Halloween. They’ll meet him on Halloween.
———
Oddly enough, Kiba seems to fit right into the college party scene, despite never pursuing a degree of his own.
After successfully planning out his visit together, you realize that the frat house that you’ve dragged him to in order to celebrate this year’s Halloween in, is packed with people; some of them in costumes, while the rest have decided to go for a more casual approach. 
Dressed in jeans, the same faded baseball cap that you saw him wearing back when you’d bumped into him in the grocery store at the beginning of summer, and a simple T-shirt and flannel combo, your best friend doesn’t particularly stand out amongst the latter. 
He’d landed this morning, grinning tiredly and with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. You nearly started bursting at the seams with joy the second you caught sight of him halfway across the airport. He wasn’t much better.
Hugging out all your emotions first, you then spent the entire day catching up, as well as healing the phantom wounds that the distance had caused. It was nice. So nice, in fact, that you’d almost forgotten how easy and complicated it was at the same time with him.
And now here you are. Together again.
Eyes glimmering with fondness, you watch as he leisurely chats with your friends who he’d already gotten to meet back at the apartment. As is expected for an extrovert like Kiba, he has no problem keeping up with the conversation. 
His body language is relaxed even when he has to lie about wearing yellow contacts; swiftly feigning that it’s because he wants to keep the spirit of Halloween alive and because he, of course, couldn’t possibly have brought a full costume with him to the airport. 
Meanwhile, you’re well aware that his reasoning couldn’t be farther from the truth. His eyes had shifted from their regular brown shade the second he’d caught you emerging from the bathroom, dressed in a pair of tight jeans and with a bunny ears headband sitting atop your head — a rather mediocre choice of a costume, but one that you knew he’d dig nonetheless.
“What, no heels?”
“Have you seen the floor of a frat house before?”
“No.”
“Well, you’re going to now, and then you’re going to understand why I chose normal girl shoes.”
While riddled with mischief at your answer, his eyes haven’t gone back to normal since.
And neither has he. No, instead he had spent a good twenty minutes scenting you in the privacy of your little bedroom; embracing you and running his rough hands up and down your arms and sides, touching your neck and face all over until you were almost late to the party and glittery highlighter coated every last one of his fingers.
“You do realize that normal people don’t have a heightened sense of smell like you do, right?” you’d grumbled by the fourth repetitive stroke, making a face when he even went as far as to lean in and start rubbing his cheek against your own. “Nobody is going to be like, ‘Woah, watch out! This one smells like werewolf property!’ if I get kidnapped or something.”
The laughter-like sound he’d let out had come across as terribly jeering. “You say that like anyone would even have a chance of forcibly taking you away from me.” 
With a soft incline of your head, you had asked, “Wouldn’t they?”
“‘Course not, you silly bunny.” He’d looked you right in the eyes then, his pupils briefly thinning into feline-like slits, allowing the apex predator within to shine on through. “I’d rip out their throats with my teeth before they’d even get a chance to blink. Easy as pie.” 
His gaze had been shiver-inducing. The words even more so. “But what if there would be like… ten of them?”
“I can take on ten people.”
“You can barely handle me whenever I’m in a lousy mood.”
“Well, it’s a good thing that you don’t count, then.” The grin he’d given you in return had been sharp. Too sharp, despite the cutesy dimple digging into his cheek. Especially as he held your face between his palms and purred, “Also, you’re not my property, you’re my mate. It’s supposed to make us equals, so please try to act like one for my sake, yeah?”
And they said romance was dead.
“Yeah.” Attempting to not pay attention to the butterflies that were wildly fluttering in your stomach again, all you managed was, “Equals who are going to be late.”
“Shit.” His eyes got wide as saucers at that. He’d given one last stroke, one last squeeze, and had pressed a hasty kiss onto your forehead before saying, “Okay, I think I’m done... Ready when you are.”
You’re unsure if it’s placebo, but you think his scent still clings to you even two hours later, when the party is in full swing and you’re chatting away with one of your guy friends in the kitchen.
Besides said friend, there are only two other people in the room — none of which you can recognize, from the way they’re too busy eating face only a few meters away from you. Kiba, reluctant to leave your side despite your many reassurances, had somehow gotten dragged into a round of beer pong by a group of rowdy jocks.
Every so often, you can hear cheering coming from one of the rooms nearby. You don’t doubt that he’s acquired quite a crowd for himself already. His dream and your worst nightmare.
“So, what’s the deal with you and the dunce?”
Blinking at the sudden question that whisks away your brain fog, you look up from your plastic cup of cranberry juice that others have been using to mix their cheap vodka with. Not feeling like taking the risk of being hungover because of particularly shitty booze the next morning, you’d decided to stay sober tonight, hence the juice.
“Sorry, what?” you ask. “I wasn’t listening.”
Your friend, Shikamaru Nara is his name, looks at you with signature exasperation at having to repeat himself again. 
“I was asking about your… friend,” he mutters after a brief pause, using the second chance of you not hearing the initial jab. 
“Oh, you mean Kiba?” you say, bringing the cup up to your lips. “Yeah, what about him?”
“Are you hooking up with him?”
The sip of cranberry juice you’d just taken lodges itself into the back of your throat at the question. It hurts like a bitch as you fight to swallow it down, unable to resist squeezing your eyes shut at the sensation, however you manage to avoid sputtering and coughing yourself into embarrassment by the end of it.
Clearing your throat as discreetly as you can, your voice sounds slightly hoarse when you ask, “Why do you ask that?”
Shikamaru, without missing a beat, says, “I dunno, he just looks at you like he’s planning on eating you or something. It’s odd.”
You glance up at the man that’s leaning against the kitchen counter next to you, noticing how the whites of his eyes are red instead of as the name suggests. His pupils are so big and round and hazy that they remind you of a cat looking around in the dark. He seems to be so high that he doesn’t have a problem with saying whatever is on his mind.
Either that, or he simply doesn’t give a shit. Both are valid reasonings whenever it comes to him.
“Kiba’s just… protective,” you manage to say after a brief moment of thought, shoulders shrugging. “He’s been like that ever since I can remember.”
Shikamaru’s eyebrow raises at this piece of information. “Even when you were kids?”
“Oh, yeah.” You nod vehemently. “Back then, it was even more intense than it is now, I think. You should have seen him playing a friendly game of dodgeball when we were in high school.”
‘HEY! AIM THAT BALL AT HER HEAD AGAIN, AND I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL SMASH YOUR FUCKING TEETH IN NEXT, YOU LOUSY FUCK!’
The memory makes the corners of your lips curl upwards. You’re quick to hide the smile behind the rim of the cup.
“Hm.” Shikamaru hums, puffing out a tired sigh that you’ve had the pleasure of hearing countless of times ever since meeting him during your first year of college.
“What is it?” you inquire.
“Nothing,” he replies. “Just thinking.”
“You’re always doing that,” you say. “Thinking.”
“Someone’s gotta do it,” he answers, giving you a lazy grin that doesn’t seem to reach his dark brown eyes.
You huff a laugh at the tease. “And what is it that you’re thinking about with that brilliant brain of yours, Megamind?”
“Stuff.”
“Stuff?”
“Yeah.”
You turn to look at him, using the chance to drag your gaze over his side profile. Over his high cheekbones, as well as the sharp outline of his nose. The cigarette that’s tucked behind his ear. The slight wrinkle between his eyebrows that tells you he’s thinking very hard about something.
A couple of loose strands of dark brown hair have escaped his ponytail, framing his face in a way that flatters him greatly. Being so dark, they’re a perfect contrast to his creamy skin that’s so unlike Kiba’s sun-kissed one.
Come to think of it, they’re nothing alike. Shikamaru is lean in build despite being awfully lazy by nature, whereas Kiba packs muscle with hard work. He’s smart, rational, not at all prone to anger, and can sometimes come across as borderline aloof. 
Besides a couple of other things, all he seems to care about is putting in the minimal amount of effort when it comes to getting by in school, so that he can achieve mediocre — but passable — grades, and thus has nothing left to worry about by the time the weekend rolls around and the bong comes out to play.
His tendency to be overly laid-back was the exact reason why you had decided to go out of your comfort zone and fool around with him last spring. With no strings attached, you’d fucked while still managing to remain friends afterwards. Besides that, he was such a perfect opposite to the man you’d left behind in your hometown, that it had almost been a, dare you say, refreshing experience.
But Kiba never did go fully away, now did he? Not even after you’d completely ghosted him and finally ceased stalking him on Instagram; trying to rid yourself of the sinking feeling in your chest that appeared whenever he posted a picture with his girlfriend at the time. Not even after you’d deleted the chat logs you shared with him on just about every app you could find, knowing you’d regret it afterwards. Not even when you’d left the pictures and other memories back at home, sealed away in a box underneath your bed.
You’d been sleeping with the deer while silently yearning for the wolf.
It’s why you broke the entire thing off with Shikamaru sometime after the New Year, aiming to rather try and move on solely by your own efforts — fresh start and everything. All whilst not knowing that you’d become a mate to your childhood best friend by the end of summer.
“Shika,” you utter, your gaze as soft as your voice. “I–”
“It’s okay. I think I got the gist of it,” he cuts in, staring at his shoes. “Whatever it is that you two have going on between you; it’s older than what we had. So, it’s more… fleshed out? From being best friends since kindergarten and stuff.”
“Yeah.” You sigh, angling your cup so that you can take the last sip of your drink. “I guess it is, when you say it like that.”
Shikamaru reaches out to wipe away the rogue droplet of cranberry juice that comes sliding down from the corner of your mouth, then. However, before his thumb can even make contact with your bottom lip, you’re quick to do it yourself.
“Am I interrupting somethin’?” a voice calls out from your left.
Kiba’s jaw is set and his eyes are hard when you turn to look at him. He stands in the middle of the doorway that leads into the hall; the light that’s shining behind his back obscuring most of his face from view, however you can still see that he forces his expression to remain fairly neutral as he begins to approach you. 
Every step he takes towards you makes you feel like it could make the ground shake. It doesn’t of course, at least not in a physical kind of sense, but his anger is becoming so palpable the closer he gets that it very much could. For some reason, it’s even worse that he’s trying to hide how pissed he is.
After all, Kiba is prone to anger that resembles a wildfire — the kind that spreads quickly and consumes everything in its path. Once it’s started, it’s hard to make it fizzle out before it does too much damage. You just have to let it do its thing and pretend like everything is normal.
Burn, baby, burn!
“No,” you say when he reaches you, pretending like the entire ordeal doesn’t faze you at all, despite the fact that your heart is now pulsating wildly in your chest. “You aren’t.”
You’re well aware that he wouldn’t hurt you, but that doesn’t mean the others are safe.
He stands before you like a wall of muscle, emitting white-hot rage with every exhale. With how tense his shoulders have gotten, as well as the bulging vein in the side of his neck that’s surely there because of how harshly he’s gritting his teeth, he looks like he could crush someone to death. 
However, his touch ends up being surprisingly tender when you allow him to grip you by the chin. You repress a relieved chuckle as he angles your head back slightly, making you realize that he’s touching the exact same spot Shikamaru would have if you’d let him. So possessive.
His brow furrows as he inspects you and his voice is rough as gravel as he says, “Why are your lips so red?”
“Cranberry juice,” you explain, pointing to the empty cup you’re still holding in your hand. “How did beer pong go?”
“It sucked ass,” he drawls, tugging on the brim of his hat with impatient fingers. The fireball of anger keeps on sizzling in the pit of his stomach. It makes his blood run hot. “The two dudes I went against were both so shit-faced that they could barely stand, much less score... I regret being sober.”
“Weren’t you drinking before, though?” Shikamaru asks all of a sudden.
Uh-oh. At the sound of the Nara’s voice, you watch as he slowly turns his head to the side in the same uncanny way a robot would have done.
Kiba looks the other man right in the eye, making a quick mental note to keep both of his arms glued to his sides in order to refrain himself from swinging just because he even had the balls to speak up while he was talking to you.
Jesus fucking Christ, since when did his temper get this short? He needs to work on it in the future or else it’s going to become a problem.
“Beer doesn’t do much for a guy like me,” he grits out after a brief moment of recollecting himself.
His tone is completely flat. Icy. 
You stare at the muscle that keeps on fluttering in his cheek even if he’s trying his hardest to tame it. At how yellow his eyes have gotten, nearly glowing in the dimly-lit kitchen, threatening to ruin the ruse of being contacts. At the way his chest heaves; rising up and down in such a manner that it makes you fear he’s seconds away from pouncing.
Shikamaru, being the intelligent man that he is, must have come to the same conclusion, because now he pushes from the counter with an awkward bounce in his step as he says, “Well, I guess it’s time for my smoke break… If you’ll excuse me.”
Either that, or the more primal part of his brain is telling him to get the fuck out before it’s too late. It’s so bad that even the make out enthusiasts proceed to follow his example.
“Bye, Shika,” you utter quickly, giving your fellow classmate a small wave when he passes by. Meanwhile, Kiba only stares, probably drilling warning holes into the poor guy’s back all the way to the very end of the hall.
Alone in the kitchen at long last, your best friend allows himself to sigh as a means to relieve some tension. The muscles in his arms relax as he rests them on either side of you, successfully trapping you against the counter.
You don’t feel caged, though. That’s the important part.
Led by that comforting feeling, you place the cup onto the counter before reaching out to carefully stroke him over the chest. “You okay?”
“No,” he grumbles, trying not to preen right in front of you at the touch. 
Your eyebrows draw together. “What’s wrong?”
His do, too. “You know damn well what’s wrong.”
“Enlighten me, please.”
“Not that it’s a you problem or anything…” He sighs again and this time the sound is way longer than earlier. “But I can’t leave ya alone for two seconds without someone immediately trying to sneak their way into your pants.”
“What?” The laugh you let out is a slightly incredulous one. “I know that you’re forced to see me in some kind of holy light because of the mating bond, but you’re seriously flattering me way too much with this one, Kiba.”
“Well, it’s the truth,” he says, his lips thinning into a firm line. “What do you think that the douchebag with the cig and the big-ass forehead was tryin’ to do just now? Ask you to join his debate club?”
You push aside the insult for now, making a note to prohibit him from saying it aloud whenever you’re in the company of others. “His name is Shikamaru.”
“I don’t care what his name is,” Kiba says, bristling. “All I know is that I could smell how hard his dick was getting around you from a mile away, and it made me-”
“Jealous?” you cut in.
He frowns. “I was gonna say grossed out, but sure.”
You giggle before biting your lip to stop the sound. “Come to think of it, that does sound pretty gross, you’re right.”
“Whatever.” He huffs, lowering his gaze. It’s not long before there’s an even deeper frown gracing his mouth.
“What is it now?” you ask.
“Nothing. Well… I just- Ugh.” He groans in frustration, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I know I said that I’d always respect your decision when it came down to choosin’ between me or someone else, but I didn’t think it’d be this… hard.”
“What are you going on about?” You pry his hand away so that you can look him in the eyes. His pupils are nothing but slits. “I haven't made any kind of decision yet. Nothing happened.”
“Okay, but still… Seeing someone else trying to touch you like that, scenting it…” he says. “I thought I could handle it for your sake, but clearly that ain’t the case. I should’ve cooled off before trying to start shit, and yet I actively chose to behave like a dick instead.”
“Actually, I thought you did a pretty decent job at controlling your awfully jealous self. Give or take,” you console, giving him a playful wink. It only causes his brow to furrow further.
“That’s not the point. Jealousy might be all fun and games to regular people, but it’s different with me. I felt like I was seconds away from skinning the dude alive… And maybe eating him afterwards, I dunno,” he says, his expression turning even more troubled than before. “Bet he’d taste like shit, though.”
“Well… What matters is that you didn’t do that.” You pat his shoulders as a form of encouragement and quickly decide on not telling him about your history with Shikamaru just yet since you’re not particularly fond of the idea of having a body on your hands. “One step at a time, yeah?”
“I guess,” he mutters. Disappointment still continues to bubble in Kiba’s stomach. It brings forth a slightly bitter taste on his tongue.
You stare at him, raking your gaze over the great expanse of his shoulders, down to his forearms, which he’s got revealed due to the sleeves being rolled up to his elbows. Now that the initial anger has diminished from his face, he just looks plain miserable. Like a puppy that’s been soaked to the bone, despite that he’s far bigger than that.
“You wanna go home and cuddle it out?” you blurt out all of a sudden, tracing the tattoos on his left forearm with your index finger.
He peers up at you from underneath his lashes. Not wanting to come across as even more clingy or suffocating, all he utters is, “If that’s what you want.” 
“I’m asking you.”
He looks down again, bright yellow eyes zeroing in on his shoes. If it weren’t so dark in this godforsaken kitchen, perhaps you would’ve noticed the subtle blush tinging his cheeks and the tips of his ears.
“I mean… If you really don’t wanna stay here,” he trails off, swallowing thickly. “Then, yeah. I suppose we could go back to yours and cuddle a little.”
You grin. “Look at you getting all mushy on me.”
Kiba gives you an eye roll. “Oh, shut up before I change my mind and just catch the first flight home.”
———
Despite initially not wanting to seem clingy, Kiba becomes exactly that after you both rinse off and clamber into bed that night.
In the dark, surrounded fully by your scent that lingers everywhere in your room, he feels safe enough to let his guard down; allowing himself to really dote on you properly — like he’s wanted to do for the last two months. 
As a result, his arm is protectively slung over your waist, and his legs are entangled with yours as he spoons you. His hand is beneath your shirt, tracing soft, lazy circles over your stomach. There are no claws in sight.
“God, I’ve missed this,” he grumbles at some point, sighing with contentment and squeezing you even closer to him. 
“Me too,” you admit, enjoying the close proximity. “Especially our dumb late night convos.”
You’ve been talking about everything and nothing in particular for the last hour or so; giggling and snickering like children and continuing on catching up, simply enjoying each other’s company. Just like old times.
Kiba clicks his tongue against his teeth in disagreement. “What d’you mean? They’re always dumb.”
“Well yeah, but that’s because they include you,” you tease, suppressing a tiny squeal when he pokes you in the side.
“As far as I know, it takes two to hold a conversation,” he fires back, squeezing your hip. “Unless you’re a nutcase, that is.”
“Hey, now… I talk to myself sometimes,” you say, turning your head to the side just enough to face him. “When I’m, like, thinking out loud and stuff.”
He quirks a brow at this. “Weirdo.”
“Pfsh.” You huff, rolling your eyes. “If anyone’s the weirdo here, then it’d be you, Mr. On all levels except physical, I am a wolf.”
“See, that doesn’t make any sense because I am a wolf on a physical level.” He drums his fingers against your skin playfully, hinting that he’ll maybe poke you in the side again. “Therefore, your joke sucks.”
“It’s still funny, though,” you protest. “And look at you, using your big boy words. Therefore. What’s gonna be next? Begging for a shilling?”
You watch as he smiles that wretched grin that shows off his dimple. His laugh is quiet, but it kindles a flame of affection inside your heart.
“You’re such a pain in the ass, you know that?” he says, still laughing.
“So I’ve been told, yeah,” you reply with a beaming smile of your own. His mood is contagious. “Multiple times.”
“Mm. I like it, though. This more confident, outgoing version of you.” After a brief moment of silence, he adds, “It makes me less worried.”
You ask, “Less worried about what?”
“If you’ll be able to stick up for yourself in case I’m not around,” he explains, not offering much more.
You blink as slight confusion begins to settle in. “And why wouldn’t you be around?”
“Well, you know,” he says, shrugging as a means to appear indifferent, but failing. “If you decide on being with someone other than me, then I guess there’d be no reason for me to stay in your life.” 
“What do you mean there’d be no reason?” you say, frowning deeply now. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re aware that the thing you say next is selfish, but you just can’t help it, “You’d still be my best friend… Wouldn’t that be enough?”
He smiles again, but this time it’s a little less beaming and a little more painful. “Bunny, of course it’d be enough. I’d spend my whole life trying to give ya the love that I think you deserve, even as just a friend. But let’s be real here… If I did that, it’d just cause… problems.”
“Problems?” you repeat, your voice hurt. “What kind of problems?”
“You’ve seen for yourself what happened tonight,” he says.
“Nothing happened tonight.” Quick frustration makes you groan. “And I’m pretty sure I’ve told you that already, so why are we going over the same conversation again?”
“Exactly, nothing happened, but look at the way I still reacted to it,” he says, sighing out of exasperation instead of contentment this time around. “I was ready to go batshit crazy over nothing… How do you think I’m gonna react if we meet up and you’ve got your boyfriend’s scent all over ya? Who says I’m not gonna go and try to bite the guy’s head off?”
You stare at each other. The knot in your belly tightens at the way he looks at you; his eyes still burning with that striking yellow shade, despite the inner conflict that subdues it ever so slightly now.
“Do you think we were destined to be together?” you ask out of the blue.
Kiba gives you a look that tells you he’s starting to worry if you’ve gone a bit nuts. “What?”
“I mean, like, do you think that we had no say in this entire thing,” you attempt to explain lamely. “Or, well… that you had no say in it?”
“I don’t believe in destiny,” he says finally.
“Well, what would you call this thing between us, then?” you mumble. “I mean, isn’t a mating bond supposed to be just some kind of a wolfy version of it?”
“I- No, I don’t think so,” he says, slowly shaking his head. “I already told you that I approached you because of the bond at first, yeah… But over the years, I’m pretty sure that I’ve come to love you on purpose. Like, on my own terms.”
Your heart skips a beat. The world feels like it’s spinning all of a sudden.
“How can you tell the difference, though?” you croak out. “Between genuine love and the forced one that the bond is pushing on you?”
“Um… Because I’m willing to spend the rest of my life alone, fighting against the red string of fate or whatever the fuck you want to call it, if it means that you’ll be happy, I guess,” he whispers quietly, his expression suddenly thoughtful. “Come to think of it, it’d be like my own personal fuck you towards destiny, hah.”
There’s no one else beside you and him in the house right now — your roommates are still out partying and doing god knows what — but he says it like it’s a secret that he’s been keeping for years.
And you, well, you feel like crying. Like curling yourself into a little ball underneath the covers that you’re sharing with him at the moment, and simply sobbing your heart out until it’s leaking out of your chest.
But instead of that, you look at him. You reel the tears in as you really look at him, and you say, “All right.”
You’ve always been so cautious. So hesitant and unsure — nothing like him. Ever since he’d revealed the truth during that godforsaken camping trip, Kiba speaks of the love that he feels for you so openly. 
Goddammit, he loves you. He actually loves you. Not because of the bond, not because you’re his perfect biological match, not because his instinct is telling him to do so. 
No, he loves you because of the memories that you’ve made together. Because of the laughter that you’ve shared. Because of all the good and the bad and everything else that’s in-between.
He loves you because he wants to, not because he needs to.
“All right?” he repeats, studying your face. “What’s that supposed t’mean?”
“It means that I’m done taking it slow. I think,” you say, trying to stop your upper lip from twitching. Your body feels tense all over once again; you feel like you’ll start bursting at the seams because of the storm of emotions that’s brewing inside you. “For once in my life, I think that I’m choosing to go all in.”
Kiba’s heart begins to pound so hard that he can hear it ringing in his ears.
“You… You mean…?” he trails off, not even daring to finish the sentence.
“Yes,” you say as your breathing slightly quickens. “We can give this thing a try; properly this time. I-I mean, fuck it, right? We haven’t been just friends for a long while now, so what’s there to lose anyway?”
He smiles at that, and for a second it’s like you can see him again — your childhood best friend. Short and scrawny, but equipped with that brazen assurance that used to get him into all sorts of trouble.
“Yeah,” he says. His smile nearly grows from ear to ear. He feels like he could touch the sky at that very moment; unbridled joy is beginning to overcome him completely. “I suppose you’re right.”
“I, umm… I guess it’s time to admit that I’ve been crushing on you for years, then. Well, I think! I’m pretty sure I was always head over heels for you, even back in high school, but I didn’t allow myself to dwell on it too much because of… well, you know,” you trail off, still riding that high of confidence that allows every bit of truth to spill out of you now. 
“So when we almost kissed before I left for college, I… I got scared. You were with Tamaki at the time, and I was leaving, and I thought you’d end up regretting it from the way it would surely mess up your whole relationship and our friendship.” You look at him, eyes apologetic. “I didn’t mean to ghost you like I did, but god… The entire thing was so messy, just chaos waiting to happen, and I was too big of a coward to deal with all that, especially after moving across the country and turning a new chapter in my life. And I’m well aware that it’s no excuse for what I did, but I just wanted you to know… the real reason behind it. And that I’m sorry.”
“I wouldn’t have regretted it, though,” he says, his gaze softening. “If you’d kissed me back at mine that night, I would never have regretted it. My relationship with Tam was a fuckin’ bust either way.”
“I know that now, you dumbass!” You huff, eyebrows cinching with frustration and stress. “But what’s the use if I didn’t know it back then.”
“Bunny,” he coos, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Breathe.”
“Oh, shut up,” you fuss, pushing him in the chest. “I’m over here, pouring my heart out to you, and you’re basically telling me to calm down. Idiot.”
He snickers at your anger, thinking it’s so cute that it’s to die for. “Well, what do you want me to do, then?”
“I want-” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, chewing on it as shyness manages to creep up on you at long last. You don’t feel as confident as before when it comes to admitting to your desires out loud, so the only time you stop your incisor from digging deeper, is when you mumble, “I want you to kiss me.”
If Kiba’s gaze had been soft before, now it’s gone utterly sweet and gooey. It makes his lids drop very, very, very low on his eyes.
“Yeah?” is all he says.
“Yeah. But not like you did back at home,” you say, remembering the urgency and the forceful clash of teeth that he’d given you because of the rut that had been cooking his brain into mush at the time. “I want it done properly this time.”
“I can do that,” he says, chuckling quietly. “But don’t act like you didn’t enjoy our first kiss. I could smell how excited you got over it, remember?”
“Whatever,” you hiss, bunching up the front of his T-shirt into your fists. “Either you behave and kiss me like a gentleman, or you’re sleeping on the floor tonight.”
“Hah, all right, all right! No need to threaten me, jeez,” he says. He’s still laughing as he caresses your cheek with one hand and angles your head so that he can do what you’re asking him for. “C’mere, you grouch… Let’s get smoochin’.”
“I hate you.”
“I thought you said you loved me.”
“I said I liked you, not-”
The rest of your sentence is broken off by a kiss.
Unlike the first time, it’s gentle. Perhaps you could even call it romantic. He cups your cheek instead of gripping it, and doesn’t become pushy; rather allowing you to take charge of the pace. There’s no tongue, only lip brushing against lip. Your breaths intermingle, to the point that you both start quietly panting in-between the short little pauses that you use for air. 
Your stomach is doing backflips by the time he slowly pulls back to look at you. His eyes are not only yellow, they’re also ravenous, and they get even more intense when you reach out to comb your fingers through his hair.
The sudden yearning that swoops down upon him makes Kiba’s throat feel so dry that it’s like it’s burning from the inside out. It’s not quite the same as it was back during his rut, but he’s getting there. Oh, he’s getting there, all right.
“More?” he asks after the longest time of silence. His voice has turned completely hoarse. 
“Mhmm, yeah,” you hum your approval, turning around to lay on your back. He instantly uses the chance to prop himself up with one elbow and drapes his upper half over you.
With his face only a couple of centimeters away from your own now, you end up nearly nose to nose. His golden chain dangles from his neck, the sleek metal occasionally cooling your skin in places that it comes in contact with. It causes you to giggle. He smiles when he leans in to kiss you again.
“Wait. I’ve got a question,” you mumble against his lips.
“Mhmm, spill,” he replies in-between kisses.
“I was thinking… Would it be… too much, if I maybe bought a golden initial of my name for you to wear?” you ask, gliding your finger along the piece of jewelry. “Like, as a not-so-secret birthday present for you next year?”
“Nah, I’d wear it,” he says simply. “Only if you wear mine, too, though.”
“Sure.” Your smile grows, little by little. “I’m in need of a new necklace anyway… Just nothing too flashy, okay?”
He snickers. “We’ll get you one of those big-ass golden dollar signs with the diamonds on top, all right?”
“Okay, yeah, that way I can always resell it.”
“Meanie.”
Your hands run through his hair for a second time as you proceed to explore each other’s mouths after months of nothing. They tug at the roots once or twice, making him grunt, before travelling down the nape of his neck and settling on his strong back. Nails grazing the soft cotton of his T-shirt, you nearly start to claw at it when his tongue touches your bottom lip.
Eventually, the kissing gets needier. More desperate. You part your lips for him and he takes his time dragging his tongue across the roof of your mouth, the flat of your teeth, tasting you fully and savouring the minty flavour of the toothpaste that you used earlier. So much saliva gets exchanged.
Besides that, there’s also phantom electricity sizzling across your skin when he carefully sinks one fang into your bottom lip and tugs on it. His caution is endearing and hot to die for, but it also feels like he’s edging you kind of. It takes you all the effort you can muster to not let a moan slip out. 
What you do end up doing, however, is taking his hand and pushing it between your legs. Just like that, all by yourself.
And it’s warm there, between your legs — perhaps even a bit too much, Kiba thinks. He stiffens at your actions, hesitating only for a second before he cups your pussy right over the comfortable shorts that you wear to bed. Watches with semi-focused vision as your hips buck without any sort of doubt that would otherwise be common for you, searching for more friction despite the seam that is now pressing against your clit.
As you continue to rub yourself against the heel of his palm, more and more sweat begins to ooze out of your pores. You’re getting hot, so your hands work seemingly on their own to try and subdue the sudden rise in temperature as you curl your fingers around the hem of your T-shirt and hike it up — all until it’s touching the collar.
With your front now almost fully exposed, Kiba curses under his breath when the sweet, musky aroma of your arousal steadily begins to fill the room that you’re in. The door is closed and the windows are shut, so it hits him like a truck. His mind is getting foggier by the millisecond because of it.
“Something the matter?” you utter sweetly, honey dripping from every word. At this point, your chest has begun to heave with some untamed form of anticipation. You sound nothing like yourself.
“No, everything’s fine,” he mumbles, swallowing thickly. Once again, he’s beginning to borderline drool, this time at the sight of your tits. It makes it hard to talk. “Just enjoyin’ the view.”
“Oh, yeah? Is that so?” You fondle your breasts, running your thumbs across the sensitive nipples, making a show for him just to rile him up further. Who knew you had it in you? “Wanna tell me just how much you’re enjoying it?”
Spit threatens to drip down the corner of his mouth. He sucks it back in the last second. “Bunny… What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing’s gotten into me? Well, not yet at least… But come on, tell me.” You continue your ministrations, testing his patience. “You love to talk, don’t you?”
“I love to show off more,” he says before he moves his hand from its spot between your legs just so that he can grab you by the wrist and make you touch him below his waistline. “Here... This is all ‘cause of you. Happy?”
You blink as he curls your fingers around the bulge that’s pressing against his boxers, wanting out. Let out a breathless, almost patronizing kind of laugh. “Fuck, you’re so hard… I’m surprised it doesn’t hurt.”
“It does hurt,” he says, voice incredibly strained now. His lips quiver slightly when you give him a stroke all on your own, without him having to ask or beg for it. It makes his mind shift to other things than whatever it is that’s making you behave this way. “I want you so bad; like, so fucking bad… You’re drivin’ me completely nuts.”
You smile at how honest he is. “Touch me and we’ll get there, okay?”
And he smirks, even if his teeth are getting bigger again from the way he’s slowly losing control, gradually affecting his speech. “Don’t hafta tell me twice.”
He kisses you again, but this time it’s harder than before and done in a way that mashes your lips against your teeth. When you open your mouth wider to ease the pressure, all he does is fill it with his tongue. He gets so pushy that you have to resort to tugging on his hair to make him relent.
“Sorry,” he mumbles sheepishly, rather moving his hot mouth to your jawline and neck.
“It’s fine,” is all you manage to say before the grazing of sharp canines immediately shuts you up.
He moves fast after that, almost urgently, from how exhilarated he is to have you like this underneath him; only taking the time to get your T-shirt out of the way so that he can lick your collarbone next. You don’t even get a proper chance to react to it before he’s already dipping even lower to suck on your nipple instead.
“Ha-ah.” Your breathing stutters as you watch his nose smush against the fat of your breast. He’s swirling his tongue around the nipple, nipping it ever so gently from time to time and tugging on it with his lips.
Meanwhile, his hand has slid between your legs again. He’s running his knuckle up and down your slit the same exact way he’d done back at his place during the summer, making the seam of your pyjama shorts rub against your clit. The sensation makes your legs want to close up from the sensitivity that’s sparking there, but he makes sure you’re spread wide open for him at all times.
Eventually, he pops his mouth off your nipple only to begin paving a path of kisses down your stomach. And they’re audible, the kisses. He’s leaving little remnants of glimmering saliva on your skin as he goes, making your middle covered in it.
It’s almost fascinating how smoothly he moves for such a big guy. Before you know it, your shorts are tossed onto the floor right along with your panties, and your legs are propped on his shoulders, the heels of your feet digging into his back.
“Fuck, your pussy smells so good,” he rasps when there’s no barrier separating him from you anymore. He swallows hard at the scent of arousal that’s as strong as ever now, Adam’s apple bobbing with the action. “It’s makin’ me drool… I can’t stop it, m’sorry. I know it’s gross.”
You want to hide your face into the pillow because of how timid his words are making you somewhere deep down inside, but instead all you do is arch your back when he noses his way between your thighs and presses a sloppy kiss there.
His tongue follows suit immediately afterwards and he wastes no time with licking your slit, nudging between your folds, groaning with satisfaction at the taste. Your hands dig into his hair in an instant, grabbing fistfuls when he suckles on your clit.
It’s all happening so fast but at the same time it doesn’t seem fast enough. Heat intensifies inside the pit of your stomach, spreading throughout your thighs, your legs, right to the very tips of your toes. You dig your heels deeper into his back, pull him closer by the hair so that you can receive more.
“Shit, fuck, oh, fuuuck,” you half-moan, half-whisper, borderline gasping for air when you feel his tongue push inside you. It’s longer than a normal human’s, slightly coarser too. It makes you wiggle your hips as you try to fuck yourself against his goddamn face in response.
You have no clue if there’s some secret chemical component in his saliva that’s making you act this feral, but you simply can’t stop writhing and moaning like a slut. What’s even worse is that he tongue-fucks you like his life depends on it. In and out, in and out, the occasional swipe up and down. It’s getting messier and messier, so sloppy that there’s surely a puddle forming on the bed sheet that you’re lying on currently.
And just when you thought you had it all, his tongue gets replaced by his fingers. You tense up, an alarming thought about his claws rushing through your dazed mind, however you’re quickly relieved to find out that they’re nowhere in sight.
They’re just normal, human fingernails on normal, human fingers. Reaching deep inside you. Fuck, reaching so deep inside you. Making you see stars behind closed eyelids. Stretching you and filling you at the same time, making you nearly jump out of your skin when they curl upwards and touch that especially tender spot.
The heat that’s swirling in your tummy worsens as a result — if that is even humanly possible. You feel it rising, feel your face scrunching up, feel your teeth gritting, feel your hips picking up pace, feel your hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair again, tugging way more harshly than you otherwise would as your climax starts to approach fast.
“Gonna- I’m gonna-...!”
“Nuh-uh,” he says all of a sudden, turning his pace to something painfully laggard, to something that isn’t nearly as quick and fulfilling enough to make you cum. “You’re not gonna… Not yet, at least.”
It hurts, it physically hurts; that unsatisfied feeling that resides in the place where your pleasure should be by now. Especially when he purses his lips and allows a glob of spit to land directly onto your pussy, turning you practically slippery between your legs.
He pushes the spit in with the help of his fingers.
“Wha-?” Your eyes grow big as saucers, stinging with upcoming tears at his denial. He’s gotten you so worked up that you just can’t help but behave like a spoiled pillow princess now. Like a proper crybaby.
“What, hm? You gonna cry?” He sneers — surprisingly meanly — at the lost look that appears on your face now. Wiping his mouth against your thigh, he kisses it before he says, “Relax, you’re gonna cum… I just want your bunny cunt squeezin’ around my dick, not my fingers.”
“Then lemme sit on it…! C’mon, lemme ride you or something,” you cry out, voice cracking with urgency and desperation that even you, yourself, don’t recognize. 
You push up from the bed with the help of your elbows so that you can clamber on top of him and ride him like the best cowgirl to ever live under the fucking sun, but all he does is press his hand into the middle of your chest and shoves you right back down onto the mattress.
For fuck’s sake, was this how he felt back when he’d begged you to help him find relief during his rut? Your body feels like it’ll drop dead any second now if you don’t get dicked down soon.
“No, you’ll hurt yourself if you do that ‘cause you ain’t stretched out enough yet. Besides, I’ve got a different idea anyway,” he says, reaching for the back of his T-shirt’s collar so that he can tug it off. “Turn onto your side.”
You stare at the rippling muscle, as well as at all the tattoos that run up his left arm to his shoulder. His hair is messy and his eyes almost glow in the dark. He’s buff, hairy, with sharp teeth and equally as keen-edged facial features. 
In that exact moment, he looks like the embodiment of animalistic hunger. Either that, or it’s just straight up carnage if it were a person.
“Are you going to mount me?” you ask, guts squeezing with anticipation at the mere thought of it. “Like you did back in the woods? ‘Cause I really… enjoyed that last time.”
His brows rise, short-lived surprise crossing his face before he chuckles. “Hah… Later, okay? Gonna fuck you sideways first and stretch you out a lil’ so my cock can fit.”
While Kiba tugs down his underwear, you busy yourself with doing as you’re told. You lie onto your side, clenching and rubbing your thighs together with lewd suspense and bated breath. By the time he spoons you, finally completely naked himself, you’re already bending your legs at the knee, pushing your ass out for him.
“Somebody needs it bad, huh?” he taunts as he pulls you closer to his chest. 
You’re in the same exact position as you were before all of this had started, the only difference is that you’re both naked now.
And, well, you’ve also got his cock sliding up and down your sticky pussy now. Got it smearing pre-cum and arousal and spit together, making you both groan out quiet noises of pleasure whenever the fat cockhead catches against your entrance, which feels like it’s fucking throbbing at this point.
He did something to you, didn’t he? He stuck his tongue fully inside your cunt for the first time instead of only licking and prodding it, and all of a sudden you’re forced to behave like a cat in heat.
“Kiba,” you whisper, breathing so fast that it’s almost frantic. You’re clawing at the sheets and rubbing your cheek against the pillow as you say, “Put it in... Fuck… Mmph, for the love of god, just put it in already…! I need your dick inside me.”
“For fuck’s sake, I’m trying,” he mumbles, frustration making him bite the inside of his cheek. “But I gotta go slowly first so that I don’t rip ya to shreds, bunny... And you beggin’ me for it is not helping ‘cause it’s only making me want to do just that.”
“I don’t care about any of that, just… just put the tip in at least,” you mewl out between words, wiggling your hips, curling your toes. Turning your head to the side to look at him, you instead kiss him with the same forceful shove forward the second your eyes land on him. “Just the tip, yeah? Okay? Like we did it back in the tent.”
He stares at you, jaw clenched and teeth grinding together from how intensely he’s trying to keep himself in-check while also having to do the same exact thing for you as well now. He can smell your need, the sweat that coats your skin, the arousal. Can hear the heavy beating of your heart.
You’re both going to devour each other if one of you doesn’t have some self-control. So Kiba tries to be the one to have it, taking another long moment to grind against you before he finally lets his gaze slip from your nearly bewildered expression, and rather focuses it on guiding his cock straight into your cunt.
You arch against him when his cockhead spreads your folds apart and slowly makes its way inside. Jaw relaxing at the sensation of finally having something to ease all that painful throbbing that’s going on, you gasp for air almost in relief despite the pesky feeling of your pussy squeezing around the girth of his dick.
It’s already demanding more.
“Fuck, bunny,” he grunts, thrusting slowly, easing himself in. “What’s wrong with you…? You’re suckin’ me right in… Shit… Makin’ it real hard f’me to not push in all the way.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, just-... j-just keep going,” you whimper out, face turning hot when you feel slick dribbling down his length. He’s so big, perhaps even too big, but your cunt just keeps on taking more and more. It never seems to be enough.
Minutes pass and you’re gradually losing your sense of self right along with them. All you care about is having him inside you. So you fuck the tip first, then half of his cock, and afterwards — fucking finally — you start taking the whole thing.
And it feels good, relieving almost. He’s got his nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, inhaling and drooling over the spot where your scent is the strongest as he holds your leg up for you and just slowly pounds away. In and out. In and out. In and out.
Meanwhile, you’re drooling all over the pillow as well, blindly reaching behind you to stroke his hair with twitching fingertips as your hips help him in meeting yours over and over again. Every time his fingers dig into the soft spot that’s underneath your knee, it makes you tighten up.
His cock twitches inside you when he buries it in to the hilt, really allowing himself to sink balls deep and making you do that cute little wince that wants to make him go batshit crazy. But instead of doing that, he steadies himself. Reels it back in. Tries to listen to your quick-paced heartbeat and even quicker breaths, despite that he’s paying attention to other things.
Because even if the sounds of skin slapping against skin aren’t that loud from how slowly he’s pushing into you, that doesn’t mean that they aren’t present. He can still hear them all. As well as the occasional gushy little noises that your pussy makes.
They make his balls tighten.
You don’t know how long you do this entire thing, but you orgasm three, three fucking times during it. To some it may be like a dream come true, however to you it’s exhausting. The overstimulation is wiping you out, and yet you keep pushing, keep asking for more, keep turning around to kiss him and whine out little pleas of ‘don’t stop, please don’t stop’.
The stretch stings, as does the spot on your neck where he sank his fangs earlier, but you welcome the overwhelming sensations with open arms. In fact, you’re so feral that you feel like you won’t survive the night if he doesn’t fuck and bite and squeeze this craving for pleasure out of you.
He does a pretty good job with it, though. With how wet you are, it’s fairly easy for Kiba to turn rougher; to turn more bestial and wild and relentless with every push and shove of his hips that he drills into yours. He even uses the vibe he’s had to listen to you pleasure yourself with over the phone these last couple of weeks, in order to help you with your little problem.
But you’re not just wet, you’re also insatiable — yes, that’s what you are! Constantly making noise and clawing at him like a little slut, looking at him with tearful eyes as the fever keeps on kicking you into the goddamn ground. So it’s only when he mounts you, aiming to fuck you like an animal, that you start feeling any sort of satisfaction that actually manages to stick. 
He uses his weight to roll you onto your tummy, and pins you down by placing you in a headlock that has you gasping for air, but also has you cumming on the spot again. You’re pretty sure that it’s the sheer, utter strength and the size difference between your head and his arm that has you behaving this way now instead of the daze, but who knows?
“Already? Christ,” he pants out, his hot exhales tickling your naked shoulder. His entire body is slick with sweat — you’re pretty sure you saw it dripping down his temples earlier. It’s no wonder that the last couple of kisses you’ve exchanged tasted salty. “Who would’ve thought that a good girl like you likes to be fucked this nasty, huh?”
Your lips try to part so that you can answer his jab with one of your own, however your face is squished against his tattooed bicep, rendering that task nearly impossible. Besides that, he’s growling into your ear, crushing you with his weight, getting bigger and bigger, until he’s throbbing inside your cunt, making your voice useless either way.
“My lil’ mate,” he continues, seemingly in a daze himself. He’s whipped at this point, completely pussy drunk. “You are, right? Mine?”
You still can’t say anything other than choked up gibberish from how firmly he’s holding you, however you do make an effort to nod.
But it’s not like he waits for you to actually answer. No, all he does is start picking up speed; starts pounding away for real, eventually making you feel like he’s in your fucking guts each time he draws back and slams right back in.
“Nngh… I’m close, real fuckin’ close... Gimme one more and then I’m… I’m knotting ya, okay, sweetheart? Yeah?” he rasps between quick breaths, voice so hoarse and hot that it ignites a fire straight up inside your soul. “Jus’ one more and then we’re makin’ pups, ‘kay?”
That last sentence alone is enough to get you reaching your finish real fucking fast. Your eyes roll back, your ass pushes up so that he can reach even deeper inside you. His balls slap against your clit with every harsh, unforgiving thrust, and it’s like you’ve gone to heaven.
Maybe it’s a good thing that he’s got you trapped in a headlock. Besides it being the hottest thing that a guy has ever done to you in bed so far, it also ensures that you stay nice and quiet. 
So it only takes you a minute or two to become undone underneath him because of all that’s happening. And the second you tighten around him — the strongest you’ve ever squeezed him tonight — his thrusting turns irregular and almost kind of jerky, picking up in speed more and more until he eventually reaches his climax and comes to a full stop.
Kiba grits his too-big teeth when he cums, spilling every last drop of his warm release inside you and closing his eyes during it. Every muscle in his body hurts from how overly tense he’d forced them to be whilst trying not to go too far since you’re so fragile. But as he wills himself to finally loosen up a little bit, he realizes that that hurts even more. The groan he lets out as a result can barely be registered as human.
But it’s not over just yet. You feel the now familiar, but equally as strange, sensation as his knot begins to swell inside you. The stretch builds up while it fills more and more space, pressing against your tender walls and causing your pussy to protest as it tries to accommodate all of him.
You’re stuck together once again, panting, sweating, trying to piece yourselves back into what you once were while also feeling completely, utterly fucked out.
His breathing is still heavy as he releases the headlock to ask, “What the fuck happened just now?”
“Oh, gosh.” You let out a small, muffled groan underneath him, fussing into the pillow, “I could ask you the same thing.”
“You acted like you were in heat,” he continues, concern shining in his yellow eyes. “Went all feral on me and shit.”
“I feel like I still am,” you say, whining when you feel his knot throbbing inside you in answer. “We’re probably gonna have to go for round two.”
“Fine by me.” He muses before a breathless snicker escapes him. “I’ll fuck you until sunrise if that’s what you want, baby.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t almost die from a heart attack just now.”
He grins from ear to ear. “Pussy so good it kills.”
You roll your eyes. “I wish it did.”
“All right, that’s it. You’re getting squished as punishment.”
“No, wait-”
Ignoring your protests, Kiba succumbs to the tiredness and drops his weight upon you exactly like he’d done the first time when he’d mounted you during the summer. However, before he can kiss you and shower you in praise for doing so well yet again, a small, sudden growl resonates from deep within his chest.
His sensitive wolf hearing picks up on the sound of keys jingling from the other side of the front door, as well as the drunken giggles and wheezing.
Your roommates are back. Great timing.
Looks like you’ll have to play it quiet.
———
Dating a werewolf is easier than expected, when said werewolf is also your best friend.
But even after being in a relationship with him for almost five years now — the last two of those spent living in an adorable little apartment together — you still can’t help but be fazed by how rough he ends up looking after every transformation.
Kiba’s shirt is torn in some places when he comes home the morning after he’d ventured out into the woods to cross off yet another full moon off his calendar. Besides the shirt, you also notice that his shoes are muddy and that his jeans are covered in dirt. Oh, and you’re pretty sure that there’s a twig poking out of his hair. 
All in all, he looks absolutely dead-beat; so exhausted that he can’t even give you a proper smile as he kicks his sneakers off and drags his feet across the kitchen floor. When he finally plops down onto the chair he favours, it’s accompanied by a sigh.
You stand up from your own seat so that you can walk over and give him a kiss on the forehead. When you do, you catch a whiff of his scent. He smells earthy; like rich soil and wet moss. Like a rainy forest.
“Hungry?” you mumble against his tan skin, combing your fingers through his hair to get rid of the twig that’s definitely stuck in there. After a bit of effort, you succeed in pulling it out and make sure to toss it in the trash as you head for the fridge.
“Starvin’,” he answers behind you, his voice completely worn out. “My stomach hurts like a motherfucker from how empty it is.”
“Well, that’s your own fault, now isn’t it? If you’d transformed here like you did last time, I would’ve made sure you were fed throughout the night,” you chide, rummaging through the fridge to pick up the carton of eggs you’d bought the day before. “I even took a day off work because of it, and yet you still decided to go out there into the woods.”
“I gotta keep that dawg in me somehow, don’t I?” he says, laughing like a kid.
“You can keep that dawg in you while you’re lying on a warm couch instead of the cold, wet ground,” you reply, grabbing the eggs. “Bacon?”
“Yes, please,” he says, propping his cheek against one hand.
With his eyes back to their normal brown, Kiba watches you move across the kitchen that you’d built together over the course of an entire week after moving in. He’d boasted that he was entirely capable of doing it himself and had cancelled on the assembly guys without even as much as offering you the chance to argue back. 
Nowadays, whenever he gets another similarly dumb idea, you use the kitchen as a firm example of the consequences that it may bring.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that you were trying to domesticate me,” he muses, feeling his stomach clench at the smell of food that’s beginning to sizzle on the pan now. “Or you just want to sit on my face when I’m in my monster form again. That’s also an option.”
God, he’s so hungry that it hurts.
“You’re lucky I don’t put you up for adoption just for saying that,” you say, tossing the egg shells away. With how fast embarrassment swoops in, twisting your expression into a flustered one, you’re happy that you’ve got your back turned towards him.
“What? You gonna tell me you didn't enjoy the stuff we did last month?” he asks, smirking at the memory. “‘Cause I seem to recall someone whining like a lil’ bitch in heat from only a couple flicks of tongue.”
He’s not wrong. Ever since he’d finally allowed you to see him in his other form a couple years ago, you’d been excited to experiment a little after the initial shock had worn off. So far, there’s been a lot of licking, plenty of dry humping and zero penetration whatsoever; if you exclude that one time when you tried to take him into your mouth but had ended up slobbering all over his dick instead.
He’s simply too big, and you’ve learned to accept it by now. Rubbing your pussy over the enormous length of his werewolf cock is all you can do, but it’s still satisfying either way. Especially when he cums because of how turned you are at the sight of him even when he’s fucking huge and equipped with sharp claws and teeth that could kill just as easily as they could protect. During those times, his release ends up covering your entire tummy and makes a mess out of his fur.
Nevertheless, Kiba feels so lucky that you’re willing to accept all of him. Feels like the luckiest man — or should he rather say wolf — to ever walk the face of the planet. It’s easier when he’s got a partner to lean on.
“Hey. Language,” you say, your voice stern.
“Sorry.” He lets out a soft little hum in apology that’s meant to appease you further. “I’ll stay home next month, okay? I promise.”
“You don’t have to,” you say, definitely wishing he did.
“I want to,” he says back.
When you go to place the plate before him, he pulls you down so that you can sit on his lap instead. After a little bit of squirming and whining about how he’s going to get your pyjama shorts dirty, you eventually settle down when he places his hand on your thigh and pats it affectionately. 
“You sure you want to stay here next month?” you mumble. Watching your bare feet dangle freely in the air now, you stroke him over the back of his head with an absent-minded look in your eyes. “I don’t want you to feel cooped up just because of me.”
“Yes, because I can’t take another month of seeing you be so worried about me,” he says sweetly, grabbing the fork that you’d placed on the table earlier.
Your expression turns blank. “Who said I was worried about you?”
He gives you a look that spells bullshit.
“…Oh fine, maybe I did worry just the tiniest bit,” you huff, pursing your lips. “But can you blame me? I mean, look at the shape you’re in whenever you come back!”
“Yeah, I look cool as fuck,” he mumbles before swallowing, already munching on the eggs. You just know he’ll wolf them down the second you get off his lap. “Like Bear Grylls.”
You blink, slowly. “Bear Grylls drank his own piss on live television.”
“I mean, if I-”
“No,” you cut in, sighing. “Whatever you were about to say just now, the answer is no.”
“Meh,” he says, taking another bite. “You’re no fun.”
You stare at his side profile, at the way his jaw works as he chews, at how the sun filters through the window that’s across the room and paints his tan skin golden. It’s not long before your hand is reaching out towards him, cupping his cheek so that you can press a warm kiss on his temple.
“Sucks to be you then, I guess,” you say, smiling cheekily. “Since you’re stuck with a lame mate and all that.”
“Nah, you’re cool as a mate,” he says, angling his head more into your touch on pure instinct. “You’re just a lame best friend. Still love ya, though!”
But despite the teasing remark that he’s just thrown your way, the truth is that Kiba loves you as his best friend just as much as he loves you as his mate. 
And judging by the little box that he’s hidden in the back of his closet recently, it seems like he’s going to love you as his wife very soon, too.
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cheesiedomino · 3 months
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Second Chances ꙳ ੭ * ‧
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synopsis: your old situationship from many years ago just moved back in town and of course, he has to text you. but it’s not just any normal text — he’s asking you out on a proper date this time. will you give a second chance to Cupid? or will you be left here feeling stupid?
genre: lee minho x fem!reader | exes (??) to lovers wc: 4.6k tags/warnings: fluff, some light angst, slightly suggestive but nothing srs, mild cursing, kissing, small mentions of crying T-T
now playing 🎧: from the start by laufey
[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]
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“Why don’t you give Tinder a try already? I’m sick of hearing you nagging all day about being lonely!” Areum abruptly suggests mid-convo , resting her palm on the side of her face.
As you both casually wait for the food to arrive, you end up on the dreadful topic of dating again. You got into a real heated discussion with her, sitting in a booth at this new restaurant one of your coworker’s recommended. It wasn’t super well known but they wouldn’t stop raving about how delicious their breadsticks were. The place wasn’t too jam packed but definitely had a decent amount of people. What you weren’t anticipating on was seeing dozens of couples here, it kind of threw your whole vibe off since it only reminded you of your current sad relationship status. Maybe you were putting far too much thought into it but everything seemed so highly unfair. Glaring in envy while they all happily rub in your face that they’ve found their forever companion.
Life really can be cruel at times.
“You can’t be for real right now..” you instantly side eye your friend from across the table. Feeling personally triggered whenever she mentions online dating. You refuse to try it, never wanting to partake in such a vain concept where you swipe left and right based solely on looks. “That’s not the same as real romance. I want to meet someone naturally, wanna tell my kids when they grow up how I met their dreamy, hunk of a father in aisle 39 at Whole Foods.”
One could say it’s almost pathetic in a way— this burning desire you harbor within, longing for a pure, quaint, and beautiful love. Constantly catching yourself daydreaming about finding your life partner, the person you’re going to marry and possibly create an eternal family with. That day has yet to come unfortunately, but you still hold onto the thought of you someday meeting the one.
You thought you found them before, but thou shalt not speak thy names out into existence.
“Well, good luck finding ‘real romance’ in the big age of 2024-” Areum snorts in amusement, taking a pause to sip on her mango strawberry lemonade. “I need whatever drugs you’re on that’s making you this delulu so I can fantasize about my knight and shining armor that’s never coming!”
God you hate that word. Delulu. Why are you suddenly “delusional” for wanting a picture perfect romance? It doesn’t need to be perfect per se, but you want to feel adored, swept off your feet and embraced like the true queen you are. Was that too much to ask? Considering the current state of dating in this day and age, it might just be.
“I mean, let’s face it girl. You literally don’t know the first thing about love ___, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows like in the K-dramas y’know! Haven’t you only had like one boyfriend in high school? You barely even dated that guy for a month-”
“That’s because he dumped me to go move to LA and become a dumb YouTuber!” You snapped back, cutting her off to get all the facts straight.
It was hard not to grimace while thinking of such old memories. Dating a Minecraft streamer definitely had to be one of the most embarrassingly cringe choices you’ve ever made.
“Whatever that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to get at here is you don’t have the best track record when it comes to men. Remember that other guy you were seeing before we graduated? I thought y’all would’ve dated for sure but he turned out to be a dickhole just like the rest of ‘em…” Areum shakes her head in disbelief, recalling all those times you’d call in a frenzied panic about things not working out.
“What was his name again? Min… Minwoo? No, that’s not it.. it was definitely Min something.” She attempts on remembering but keeps drawing a blank.
“Minho.” You answer almost instantaneously. His name still rolled off the tongue smooth as velvet.
It felt weird though. Saying it out loud after so many years of blocking it from your immediate vocabulary. A name you thought would never escape your lips again.
“Damn, you really still think about him don’t you?” She dares to ask, knowing how difficult it is for you to even talk about this anymore.
You only respond by nodding slowly, unable to bring yourself to look at her. It was far too intense; bearing the emotions of hurt and guilt from a past fling that meant more to you but nothing to the other. That’s how most of your tragic stories end— always too overly into them while they barely reciprocate any of that energy towards you. The thing is, you thought Minho actually liked you, even so far as wanting to date in the near future. Considering he brought you over his parent’s house (to hook up of course), and though you didn’t meet them you still think that meant something. Most men don’t just bring any woman they’re seeing to their parent’s place without somewhat thinking a potential relationship could happen down the line.
“So that’s why you should download Tinder and start swipin’ on some other cuties! It’ll at least distract you for a bit and get your mind off that asswipe,” Areum pitches her idea once more, “there’s plenty other fish in the sea ___. Not everyone online is some crazy serial killer, plus you clearly don’t seem to be having much luck out in the real world.”
You wanted to jump up from the table and erase that smirk from her face but instead you roll your eyes at that last remark. “I don’t need those shitty dating apps. I’m very capable of finding someone in real life for your information!” You quickly retort as a means to defend yourself. Even though she did have a point, her delivery could’ve been a little bit nicer.
It’s not easy being a hopeless romantic, you can’t help but yearn for that special someone to enter your life and change it for the better. You won’t feel wholly satisfied nor complete until you do. The sad reality of the matter was that you are still painfully single. No one’s interesting enough to cease your attention, let alone go on any actual dates. Areum’s had enough of your bitching and whining though, there’s only so many rants and tirades she can keep listening to about your vicious hatred for men before she loses it completely. Your nonexistent love life has become more of a nuisance as that time of year approaches— Valentine’s Day. A god forsaken holiday you’ve always loathed with a passion. Wanting nothing more than to be one of those girls on the receiving end getting flowers and chocolates. A day full of the utmost joy and pleasant surprises from your loving significant other.
Must be nice..
Speaking of surprises.. The buzzing in your ear echoes from your phone pinging loudly, indefinitely startling you. Grabbing it to check the sudden notification, your eyes go absurdly wide at the contact name displayed on your screen. Blinking numerous times from shock, you stare at your phone in incredulity; making sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.
Lee Minho. The Lee Minho?
What kind of sorcery is being conjured where the instant you bring him up, he somehow texts you after all these years of not speaking? This coincidence was more than unsettling to you. A part of your inner thoughts still believes this is all some elaborate joke being played on you, waiting for a cameraman to pop out of some curtain to announce you’ve just been pranked. But nothing happens, life proceeds as normal. Now you’re left with the most puzzling notification you might’ve ever received.
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It was your last year of college and the pressure of your academics along with appeasing your family was getting to you immensely. You needed an escape from all of it, desperately. Which you found through none other than Lee Minho, the boy who worked as a barista at Cozmo’s; this coffee shop you used to frequent a lot. It was a cute, small family-owned establishment and they made the best matcha lattes— in your humble opinion. You’d pick one up almost every day along with a slice of freshly baked cinnamon bread. It started off as only playful banter with him in the beginning, then it lead to more as time went on. One day, as you reached out to pay he blocked your hand from moving any closer, letting you freely walk away without spending a dime. This soon became a regular occurrence, as you’d start seeing Minho outside of work, getting to know more and more about him. You remember so desperately wanting to date back then, pitying your past self for thinking there was even a chance.
‘Maybe he’s just texted the wrong person’ you psyche yourself into thinking, but when you unlock your phone to finally read the message — an uncomfortable lump forms in the pit of your throat.
Minho 🐈:
Hey is this still ___’s number?
You honestly don’t know why you still have his number saved, let alone allowing a whole emoji to be next to it. Though it never was like you to delete anything, no matter how painful it may have been. More lingering questions makes you want to seek out the possible solutions. Why would he text you of all people ? None of this adds up in your mind realistically. Furrowing your brows in concentration, you think of what to say as you draft out a response.
Yes… who’s this?
After a tedious struggle of typing out multiple paragraphs and immediately deleting them, you went over your words a few more times before sending a final reply. It would’ve been strange had you knew exactly who he was off the bat, that’ll just be dead giveaway you still had his contact info saved this whole time. But with that logic, doesn’t that make Minho just as odd for still keeping your number after all this time has passed?
Your phone dings again.
Minho 🐈:
Srsly -_-
Did you really delete my number??
Bet he didn’t see that one coming. He probably thought the moment he texts you, you were gonna kiss up to him like you’ve always done in the past. Mentally giggling to yourself at the image of him getting flustered by you not knowing who he was at first. Feels good to know you knocked his confidence down a peg.
Lol, chillax.. I know it’s you Minho :P
Not even a minute later, a flood of incoming messages appear. Biting your lip out of nervousness, your heart couldn’t stop beating so fast— anxiously checking your phone as the atmosphere around you suddenly gets stuffier.
Minho 🐈:
Better be lucky I didn’t block you after that ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
Guess who’s back in the city btw. Did ya miss me? ;)
No need to answer that, I already know you did. You should stop by at Cozmo’s again sometime!
Also what’re you up to this week? I need you to clear out all your plans because I’m taking you out on a date.
You always knew Minho was the bold type but this was on another level. The sheer audacity he has to even ask something like this after not reaching out for almost 3 years was more than ballsy on his part. It felt like a surge of butterflies erupting in your stomach, getting lightheaded as you think about seeing him again. He really had an effect on you like no other.
Glancing up from your screen to finally pay attention to Areum again, you assure her everything’s going to be just fine. “Looks like I won’t be needing to download Tinder after all.”
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Later on that day you ended up going to Cozmo’s and meeting up with Minho. It never really took much convincing from him to get you to budge, though it was a hell of a lot worse back then. You used to blindly follow along with anything he said just to seek his approval, hoping that eventually he’ll see you as the girl he wants to settle down with. Alas, nothing ever blossomed into something more, and you knew deep down that this was headed nowhere— but that still didn’t stop you from fantasizing about a future with him. Getting lost into deep thought, head heavy in the clouds as you imagine the idea of Minho confessing his undying love for you. You’ll be so caught off guard as he gets down on one knee, looking at you with the entire solar system in eyes while he proposes in the most charming way. It really is pitiful how much you still daydream about a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend but would constantly act like he was, then up and leaves without mentioning a single word about it.
You convinced yourself he ran off with someone else to have a better life with, even hearing through town gossip that he’s moved to South Korea to pursue becoming an idol. Whatever the case may be it still weighed heavily on your mind that he never bothered to tell you anything, even a simple ‘goodbye’ would’ve sufficed the empty hole in your heart. The main reason you agreed on meeting up with Minho was to finally ask, why? Why did he pretend to like you? Why did he act like your boyfriend when he never had intentions on seriously dating? Why was he so good at making you fall so hard for him..?
“You look great.” You subconsciously blurt out, affixed in a daze as you stare in awe at the man in front of you.
It’s been a while since you came here— never able to fully bring yourself to try and go back. Though you knew this place first, and they really did have the best Mactha lattes in the universe. It reminded you too much of him and you sadly had to let it go.
You weren’t proud of it but you did go home quickly to change clothes and redo your makeup. Usually you wouldn’t care but this was the only guy you’ve been consistently crushing on for years, you had to feel good inside and out. Minho was just as gorgeous as you remembered, if not he looked even more ethereal — which seemed impossible in itself already. He’s grown up so beautifully, his facial features became more sharp, especially his jawline which looks so defined and sculpted by the Gods.
Minho lightly chuckles at your timidness, some things just never change. “You look way better.” His lips drew into a faint smirk as he admires your presence.
He meant every word of what he said, you looked really good, and it was making him even more frustrated that so much time has passed. Regretting the way he handled things so many years ago, wishing he could take it all back and do everything differently. Seeing you again made it easier for Minho to suppress the guilt he’s borne for so long. This moment feels like a second chance to make amends for his past mistakes.
You couldn’t help but blush when you hear his compliment, feeling your ears grow hot as you look at the ground. There was a silent pause between you that lasted for what seemed like ages. Weirdly enough the conversation flowed well after he finally broke the awkwardness, the chemistry was overall still there and were able to pick up right where it left off.
“I’m so glad you came ___, I’ve been dying to see you since I got here. I’m surprised you even still responded to my lame ass.”
Minho’s light confession puzzles you. If he really was dying to see you, why’d he wait so long to get in contact with you? To be fair, you don’t know the exact time he came back.
“Oh, is that so? When’d you come back? Also show me pics of Korea, I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like there.” You fondly inquire, leaning against the side of the wall as he’s still behind the counter. He mentioned to you he’s only working part time because his parents would rather mooch off their son for free labor than to hire and pay a new employee.
“Yesterday,” he quickly states before taking out his phone to scroll through his gallery, “guess my sister must’ve told you I went there huh?”
You shook your head, “Nah, I haven’t talked to Elle in a while. She’s tried hitting me up a few times though.. but I found out through Areum ‘cause she was seeing Hoseok back then.”
They were definitely “seeing” each other alright, but mostly in the bedroom. Areum didn’t want anything exclusive with Hoseok and neither did he, it was the perfect friends with benefits situation. Minho and Hoseok were good friends who’ve known each other for a while, so naturally he’d tell Areum everything and overshare at some point.
“Agh, there’s a customer gotta take this. One sec, sorry!” He briefly apologizes before bringing his attention to the new person heading inside. You nod, signaling he’s good to go. “I’ll be waiting over there,” you point to a small wooden table with 2 chairs in a corner.
Once Minho comes back you notice he’s no longer wearing his purple work apron; back in his regular attire now and sporting an oversized dark grey hoodie that was three times too big. He was holding a large cup with green liquid and a paper bag in his hand, that’s when it clicks for you— he still remembers your favorite meal.
He’s grinning the whole time he’s handing you the matcha latte and cinnamon pastry, smiling from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas Day. This was the most you’ve seen him be so enthusiastic about something, even back when you were “with” him you can’t recall him beaming with such energy like this.
“Awh, thank you. I haven’t had either one of these in years!” You wanted to give him the biggest hug but you refrained from doing so, feeling as though it may be too early for that.
“Of course dear, anything for you.”
Why does everything he says have to make you melt from the inside out? It’s not fair! >:(
Glancing down at your yummy beverage, you see a message written on the side of the glass with bold permanent sharpie. Tilting your head to read it, the words are bit jumbled together but you get the gist. You’re almost left speechless after it reads: ‘___, Will you be my valentine?’
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Your most dreaded and least favorite holiday is here, yippee! But, there’s a twist on this year’s turn of events; you actually have someone to celebrate this wretched tradition with. You should be excited but all you’re feeling is the sudden urge to vomit as you were nervous out of your mind. This was kind of weird to you, going on a date with your ex boyfriend who was never even your real boyfriend. Looking back on it now you shouldn’t have tolerated a relationship dynamic like that, Minho was clearly taking advantage of your passiveness by not explicitly saying what he wanted. On the contrary, you had no one to blame but yourself, you never spoke up or criticized anything even if it didn’t coincide with your personal morals.
The fact he never took you on an actual date until now speaks volumes, you obviously didn’t have enough self worth back to demand better treatment. It took you years of figuring out what a real, healthy relationship is supposed to be like through trials of therapy and that was an emotional rollercoaster in itself. All your uncertainties soon faded away once you became more secure and knew exactly what you wanted for yourself. It took every ounce of patience and acceptance to unlearn all your bad coping mechanisms and other toxic behaviors that were only stunting your inner growth. You’re happy to be in a position now where you’re able to express wholeheartedly what you deserve, it’s the best feeling ever to feel like you’re in control of your own life.
You spent almost 3 hours getting ready and your bedroom now looked like a war zone. The outfit you chose was super girly, a frilly white dress with pink platform heels— Minho’s going to drool in amazement when he sees you. When you sent Areum photos of you before heading out, she responds right way with a series of hearts and other sweet comments— hyping you up to no end like the best friend she is. She’s also able to help pull you out of your doubtful headspace, when you felt unsure if you could really go through with this she quickly psyched you out of it. Reminding you exactly who you are and why you are the prize, not him. ‘He should be the one who’s nervous, not the other way around’ you assure yourself over and over as a mini ego boost.
His jaw dropped when he spotted you walking up to his car, infatuated by how pretty and perfect you looked in every way possible. It angers him so much to know he took all this for granted, he didn’t appreciate all of you the way he should’ve but now he gets another chance to redo everything and right his wrongs. It’s a lot of pressure but he bravely accepts it, he could never mess up another opportunity like this again. The car ride was fairly silent in the beginning, you were vibing in peace as the only thing you could hear was Minho’s soft indie playlist as background music.
You ultimately chose to be the one to speak first, breaking the ice with a simple inquiry about the date. “So where are we going?” Looking out at the scenery from the window, all you is trees and more trees. If it’s something to do with nature you surely don’t want any parts of it, you’ve never been too fond of the wilderness.
“It’s a surprise, I can’t tell you.” He keeps a tight seal on today’s destination without dropping a single hint, forcing you to go completely blind into this. As he goes back to focus on the road, you sigh anxiously after hearing him refuse to disclose anything.
Did he seriously forget what kind of person you are? Anyone who’s close to you at all knows you’ve never been into those types of things. Ever.
“You know I hate surprises Minho,” you remind him, attempting to pry for more information. Even shooting him a doe eyed look along with poking out your bottom lip, but he doesn’t falter.
He simply nods, “I know but you’ll like this one, just have a little bit of faith me.” Flashing an innocent smile at you, he seems to be overly confident in whatever his plan consists of.
After almost half an hour passes the car finally comes to a stop, you scan the area and instantly notice a sense of familiarity among the place. Across from you was an ice cream parlor you thought didn’t exist anymore. But there it is, still standing with dozens of customers waiting in line. The small shop was famously known for its fish-shaped ice cream cones, you’ve always wanted to visit the place and try it when you were a little from seeing it on TV all the time. When you told Minho about it, you said how your parents would say it was too far but it actually closed down and they didn’t know how to tell you. From time to time you’d still think about that place, but you would’ve never thought they relocated. Being here with Minho brings an indescribable amount of happiness to your spirit.
“I mentioned this place like one time in passing, how’d you even remember?” You wonder in amazement, after all these years he still remembers something as minuscule as this.
“It may not have seemed like it but I paid attention to every little detail you told me ___, all it. Of course I know you don’t like surprises but how else would I have been able to take you here?” He sweetly expresses to you, not wanting to hold back anymore.
You wanted to cry right here, right now. All your emotions came crashing down at once and it’s hard to keep them concealed. A lot has changed within these years, things feel so different with him now, especially with how much he’s matured. You notice how he doesn’t act like the typical fuckboy in his early 20’s anymore, he’s much more interested in getting to know only person — that being you.
“I’ve rehearsed this in my head like a million times and I don’t think I’ll ever say it the right way I want but it’s time I start being as transparent as possible with you…” Minho takes a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve always liked you ___, from the start actually,” he keeps going, “I was just scared, of what I don’t know.. Commitment maybe?”
Slightly looking in another direction, your vision faintly blurs from tears welling up, “I- I honestly don’t know what to say..”
“Then don’t say anything at all, I don’t need you to. I may not know the first thing about how to love someone, but I want to learn all of it with you.” He feels all the remorse of leaving you alone for all these years, unable to process the pain you must’ve endured at him not getting into contact with you. “I’m so sorry ___. For everything, I’m going to make it all better I promise.”
Your eyes subconsciously flutter shut when he comes in contact with you. Connecting in perfect symmetry with your lips to sync together in motion. His gentle hands cupped your face delicately; his touch was so warm and inviting. Your fingers were deeply tangled in his brunette locks, relishing every minute as he tilts his head to capture more of you. He genuinely couldn’t believe he went this long without kissing these luscious lips again. His tongue grazed the bottom of your lip to subtly ask for entry and you comply. Dopamine floods both your senses like a series of fireworks going off, feeling intoxicated by each other’s taste. It was probably that vanilla bean chapstick you always wore— an old favorite of his and is still your go-to flavor of choice. He wanted to savor you in this moment for as long as he could, cherish the fact he has you in his hold again.
“Want to know something funny?” He asks out of nowhere, still smirking from that heated kiss that just happened seconds ago.
“Hm?”
“You’re the reason I ended up coming back here.” Minho states bluntly, no hesitation detected in his voice whatsoever.
You struggle to comprehend anything, overwhelmed by all his sudden confessions. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I never want to leave your side ever again ___. I’m staying here with you, I already made the biggest mistake of losing you once I can’t let the same thing happen twice.” He spoke tenderly from the bottom of his heart, it felt so genuine you couldn’t not believe him.
Going back to rewind time isn’t possible, but “do-over’s” are, and sometimes we’re able to get those second chances to make things right when we get them wrong the first time.
[End <3].
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yawnderu · 2 months
Text
Final Girl — Slasher!Keegan P. Russ x Reader (2/?)
cw: stalking, noncon. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
Your life was never meant to be a punishment.
"Are you listening?" The man in front of you asks the moment your gaze starts to drift off for the third time since you arrived at the office.
"Sorry. What did you say?" The dark circles around your eyes make you resemble a raccoon more than a human, the memories of your friends dying and their blood splattered all around the pale wallpapers. Images of nature that were supposed to be remembered as calming do the exact opposite, forever engraved in your broken psyche.
"Do you remember anything about the suspect?" The detective's voice is calm, laced with nothing but pure understanding and compassion, a man too passionate about what he does— and the man you're about to lie to, delaying the investigation of your friend's death just to save your own ass.
"Nothing other than what I've told you, sir. Everything is just so..." The pregnant pause makes him fidget with the pen in his hand, grey eyes focused on the way you look away from him, eyes squinting as you try to recall memories from that night, memories that are so painful he can see it written all over your face, making him feel a pang of guilt.
"It's okay. Call me if you remember anything else, yeah?" His warm hand rests on your shoulder after you get up, trying his best to give you a reassuring smile that is only met with weary eyes, making your way out without saying anything. There's hesitation in your steps, your heart almost beating out of your chest the moment you stop walking and look over your shoulder, briefly meeting his curious gaze.
“He had brown eyes.” Mr. Smith doesn't waste any time on adding the information to his notes, only making the guilt spread all over your insides like black mold, taking over what used to be your soul— it's all his now.
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Your life was never meant to be a punishment, yet what do you call seeing the man who killed your friends everywhere you go? He's been taking over your entire life no matter how much you try to push the memories away, no matter how much you try to forget it all happened, only serving as a constant reminder that you didn't do enough.
Dreams colliding with reality isn't something new, yet your nightmares are so realistic that it almost feels like you were there. Even while you were hidden away in a dark closet, you can see your friends struggling against the much bigger, armed man, innocent bodies butchered while they were alive, a mess of limbs spread all over the rented cabin, blank eyes always staring at you, watching you run away and leave them behind.
Were you losing your mind? It all seems so real, to the point you're not even convinced you only saw your best friend die. Are you sure you didn't peek the kitchen the moment you cowardly decided to escape? The kitchen was blocked by a wall, and yet.
Cold water splashes all over your face, feeling the softness of your palm rub the skin, trying to come back to reality, to remind yourself that it's impossible to have seen the other bodies. The crime scene report is repeated over and over like a mantra, serving as a permanent reminder that you weren't there. No, not when only a body was found in the living room.
The person looking back at you in the mirror is a far cry from who you used to be. The dark circles in your eyes resemble more a dead girl walking than a real, healthy body, and perhaps that's what you are. If it weren't for the constant feeling of crippling dread and the tears spilling down your cheeks like a broken dam, you could've fooled a mortician.
The sound of your phone vibrating against the vanity brings you back to reality from your trip to Self-Pity Land, slapping some more water on your sweaty face before deciding to take a peek at the screen.
1:38 PM.
From: Ali💗
Almost there.
It's enough to make you scurry around the room, applying enough makeup to not make your friend worry, knowing that she wanted to get you out of the house just to give you a worthy distraction.
For what seems like the first time in forever, the corners of your lips tilt up into a smile the moment your friend wraps her arms around you, holding you close despite the odd stares you're getting from the people in the diner.
“Hey, you.” Her cheerfulness was contagious, to the point that even if only for a second, you get a sense of normalcy. A sense of community, despite your own feelings about the entire situation.
Your friend can talk for two. Something that you never noticed until now, listening to her ramble about anything and everything for the past hour. In a way, it gave you the chance to dissociate in peace, the words mixing together to the point they barely made sense anymore, completely entering one ear and leaving the other.
“He's looking at you.” Alina says in a teasing whisper, nudging you with her elbow. You give her a confused glance until she looks between the man and you, giving you the look.
Your gaze connects with a pair of baby blue eyes, forcing a sharp pain to cut through your soul. His eyes look too familiar, resembling the pair you see every single day in your nightmares. His entire demeanor screams ''cocky bastard'', manspreading on the seat of the table across from you, his arm propped up on the backrest.
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“Awful timing, but I have to go.” Alina says with a small frown, though it quickly changes to a little smug smirk the moment she realizes the man is still looking at you. If she even notices your pleading gaze, it goes completely ignored as she gets up from the booth, giving you a strong, goodbye hug— and the stare from the man makes it clear that it might be the last one.
“Get some.” She teases in a whisper, quickly making her way out of the diner after paying for your drinks. You feel the urge to empty your stomach, yet there's barely anything there, only the slow-growing sense of pure dread the longer you keep staring at each other. Even when you force yourself to look away, you can see him staring at you from the corner of your eye, almost able to tell he has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.
Leaving a halfway done drink behind, you make your way out of the diner, hoping that being out with more witnesses can save you. Is that really him? You barely got the chance to see his eyes yet you never saw his face, starting to doubt yourself the longer your tired feet drag you around the street. He could be an innocent man falling victim of your trauma, simply looking to get laid— you could probably use that, too, yet his icy stare and cocky grin is carved into your damaged mind.
“Need a ride?” A deep, gravely voice offers, nearly giving you a heart attack the moment your eyes meet his. Your hand goes up to your chest, trying to calm your fast-beating heart even when he gives you a reassuring, charming smile.
“No, thank you.” Your tone is far too polite and kind, still wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt despite the fight or flight screaming at you to flee— to get away from the man you're now convinced is the same masked man who murdered your friends.
“Get in the fucking car, princess.”
The charming smile he was shooting your way is gone within a second, his icy gaze piercing through your soul now that he knows you saw through his bullshit. Your gaze drifts down to the hand lifting a part of his shirt up, revealing part of his dark, happy trail— and his handgun.
There's hesitation in your steps as you walk to the passenger's seat, already feeling the smoothie you drank starting to crawl up your throat, almost making you throw it all up, yet you do your best to hold it in, shakily getting into his car.
“… My house's up ahead.” You purposely give him the wrong address, trying to protect your family and yourself from the deranged bastard. The ride is eerily quiet, almost making you even more nervous than if he was trying to make conversation with you. There's no music playing, no humming— nothing, other than his fingers tapping against the steering wheel and his calm breathing.
“We're here.” Maybe you're reading him wrong, but there's hints of teasing bleeding through his deep voice, his eyes shining with mirth when you step out of his truck, making your way to one of the houses. You reach the front door after what feels like minutes, your hand shaking as you think of what to do. You can hear the engine of his car still behind you, not driving away even when you told him that's your home.
I don't want anyone else to die because of me. If someone opens the door, would he murder them too? He has a gun, and the way he brutalized your friends makes it clear that he's not afraid to get his hands dirty no matter the weapon. His loud laugh makes every single muscle in your body tense up, hesitantly looking back at him, the pure amusement dancing all over his face doesn't ease your fears in the slightest.
“Come back, sweetheart. I'll take you home.” And he stays true to his word, driving back in silence, his warm hand resting on your bare thigh. You don't dare look at it, simply staring out of the window, feeling every single callus on his hand while the scenery gets more and more familiar. The black mold in your soul spreads by the second, threatening to rot you from the inside out, bubbling up into a disgusting brew as he stops in front of your house.
Your eyes briefly meet his, his pupils starting to dilate the same way they did when he was done brutalizing your friends; just like a predator who has never failed to catch his prey. You never gave him your address— in fact, you didn't say a single word since you got back into his truck, yet he still found his way to your house.
It's all starting to make sense. Despite assuming it's all a product of your paranoia, you've been catching hints of the masked man everywhere you go, blue eyes always staring right into your soul.
“Not gonna invite me over for some coffee?” Technically, it is a question, yet you both know saying no to him is not even on the table.
“Sure… I can make you a coffee.” Perhaps inviting a serial killer is not the brightest idea, yet what other options do you even have? He knows where you live and the places you frequent, you're not safe anywhere. His hand drifts down to the small of your back as you open the entrance door, hesitantly letting him back into the only safe space you had, willingly allowing him to invade your life.
“Atta girl.” What should feel like praise from an older man only serves as additional mental torture, the sound of the door closing behind you making all hope of surviving him fade away.
“Come sit on my lap.” He walks to the living room as if it's his own home, not even asking for directions, simply being able to navigate his way around like he's been here before— deep inside, you know he has. Your nose starts to sting as he sits down on the couch and forces you to straddle him, your thighs around his, allowing you to feel all the muscle.
“Don't cry…” He taunts, only now making you aware of the hot tears dripping down your cheeks, your lips trembling as he pushes you closer by the ass, pressing your clothed cunt against his hardening dick. His face is buried on he crook of your neck, loudly inhaling your scent as his starts to grind against you, calloused hands roaming all over your pretty body.
“Wanna feel my cock?” The vigorous head shake you give him is enough to make him laugh, open-mouthed kisses planted all over your neck and shoulders, not caring about leaving any marks. You can barely register the sound of his zipper coming down until he's guiding your hand to his warm, hardening dick.
You're too shaky to even do anything about it, disgust and nervousness turning into a dangerous mix, yet Keegan is a patient man. A patient man who gently makes your fingers wrap around his shaft, guiding your movements to jerk him off, getting even harder underneath your touch. Low grunts and muffled moans are spilled right into your ear, clearly getting off despite your very clear fear.
“You're doing so good, princess…” He murmurs. Keegan's free hand starts to sneak his way inside your shirt, slipping past your bra, his thumb brushing past your hardening nipple. Your brain is able to recognize that fight or flight aren't options anymore, so just like a wild animal trying to avoid a fight; you freeze.
Your shaky breaths mingle together, only interrupted by the low groans he lets out, his hand leaving yours for the first time, leaving you unsure of what to do. Despite the tears falling down your cheeks and the muffled whimpers, your hand keeps moving up and down his shaft, not wanting to die by his dirty, blood-tainted hands.
Keegan's mind isn't broken enough to not know it's wrong, yet it has been broken enough to the point he simply doesn't care. Thrown away by his brothers in arms and the marines, he doesn't have anything else to lose. No life purpose, other than to bring others the same pain he has suffered for years.
A quiet whimper escapes your lips as he moves your hand away from his cock, using his tip to move your underwear aside. His free hand goes to the back of your head, encouraging you to hide your pretty, tear-stained face on the crook of his neck, fully muffling your cries the moment he penetrates you. His dick is way too thick for his own good— stretching you open forcefully, despite the way he's actually going out of his way to make it as painless as possible.
“Shh, it's okay, kid. Just enjoy it.” He whispers into your ear, running a reassuring hand up and down your back, starting to move inside you, as if what he's doing could be even remotely enjoyable. A low, throaty moan makes its way out of his lips the moment he manages to bottom out, your body responding to the forced intrusion by getting you wet, not able to register that you don't want it.
Breaking you apart is the closest thing to religion he's ever gotten. Keegan's lips crash against yours as his hips start to thrust up faster and deeper, growing more desperate by the second despite how wrong he knows it is. He shouldn't be enjoying this, yet he's just a broken, terrible man, the little sobs leaving your lips only making him fuck into you harder.
The human body works in odd, awful ways. You don't want this, yet every single nerve inside your cunt is being stimulated by his long shaft, sending signals to your body that make it feel much better after you got wet. The small moan that gets ripped out from your throat makes him break away from the kiss, amusement written all over his face.
Keegan's forehead leans against yours as his hips rock against yours, his breath hot against your face. From this position, you're able to examine his face, taking note of as many details as possible in case he decides to let you leave, no matter how slim the chances are.
Thick, black eyebrows, buzzcut, dark scruff covering his pale cheeks. High cheekbones, light blue eyes, no visible scars or moles.
You repeat it inside your head like a mantra, trying to use it as a replacement to keep your head occupied from the knot starting to tense in your stomach, tightening up more and more with each thrust. You know for a fact you're hating this, yet your body is betraying you, coating his cock with slick.
He pulls out only to slam himself back in, dragging more pathetic moans out of your lips the moment he hits your spongy cervix. The stimulation is enough to make you hide your face on the warm crook of his neck, biting your thumb hard to muffle your own sounds the moment you start tightening up around him, finally giving in to the stimulation.
Your teeth sink deeper into your skin despite the small whiny moan escaping your lips the moment your forced orgasm hits, barely conscious enough to register the cocky laugh above you, feeling his lips connect against your temple, his breath hot on your skin as he manages to pull out, shooting ropes of thick cum all over your stomach.
“See? It wasn't that bad, was it, princess?” You collapse against him with a loud exhale, not able to hold it together anymore.
“Why…?” It's all you can ask, and you're not even sure about the reason you're asking why. Why did he kill your friends? Why did he let you live? Why is he stalking you? Why did he force himself on you? Why is he caressing your body like you're made of glass, as if he didn't just destroy you into thousands of shards?
“Because I'm not right in the head anymore.”
Taglist: @h0ney-mushroom @bangtandaze @elentiyaiswriting @lollycotton @sleepydang @billiousserpent As always, thank you so much @moosch for the amazing art!! 💗💗 world-building with her has been so fucking exciting and I'm happy to finally be writing about Slasher!Keegan after we've been talking about it for months!!<333
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evilminji · 4 months
Text
You know one of the purposes of Lining?
Shock Absorption.
If the Zone is the Inter- and EXTRA-Dimensional Lining, connecting, containing, and generally powering all of Multiversal Creation? The Great Primordial Soup? The Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust, from which we came and too which we return?
If the Zone itself is basicly the place between Universe, where your soul goes to get washed down, cleaned up, recharged, and sent out to wherever the next random portal takes it? To BECOME whatever you happen to find? An infinte recycler and Multiversal management?
The great metaphorical Yggdrasil, grown far beyond few branches, into an incomprehensible forest of one?
Well!
That kinda changes things! And also nothing! Because it means that those who remain? Are basicly squatting in the DMV's attic. Have built bunkers, under the country's main power generator. They really SHOULD move along. Granted, there is no one to MAKE them... but like...
That's cause no one thought anyone would NEED too?
Lol. Don't they feel silly? Anyway, I'ma put MY house over-! *wander off to go squat in the rafters*
Yeah, the CONCEPTS are native. But those probably just generate naturally. It's all the Souls constantly flowing through. Lots of background Sentience and Memories and such being washed away into the air. But? Then these lil souls were like "yeah, but if THEY get to stay... me too! D:< " "no, you can-" "ME TOO" and then they stopped listening and did what they wanted.
Good thing we have literally infinte amounts of room.
T...there's so MANY, you guys.
But! Not the point here!
*smacks white board* Realities! The Die too sometimes! And get born! A beautiful process, really. You can find Reality Beads if you know When and Where to look, some times. They, OBVIOUSLY, don't last for very long. Since they are basicly just seed universe. The explosive growth takes them almost immediately out of our range of perception, as they Begin.
Foundations of all Life and such.
But good God are they MAGNIFICENT!
However, sometimes? The REVERSE happens. If you find the area of the Zone your in? Is getting... "wavey" is the best way people describe it. Distorted. Fun house mirror. As though your vision has weird wrinkles that are distorting and stretching your view of things? Get Out. FAST.
If it's only SLIGHT? Barely noticeable? You can grab your Lair. IF, and ONLY IF you are NEARBY! If not? Remember. Things can be replaced. YOU? Can not.
Cause that "wavey"-ness? Is the final stage of Realm Entropy. The universe that portion over the Zone is covering and connected too, is all hollowed out. And about to CAVE IN. You DO NOT want to be there when that happens!
Remember! You see "waves"? Fly for three days!
Get to the edge of the affected area then KEEP GOING for a full three days flight. Warn everyone in you path. We stay safe together, guy. Collapses are NO JOKE. People get... well. Let's just say it's NOT a nice way too go.
Knowing this of course? We should all be SAFE right? Respectful if Awed distance from Reality Seeds, run like he'll if "waves"? We Gucci?
.....Sooooorta.
*flips Whiteboard to other side, to reveal a cartoonishly drawn Supervillian labeled "Asshole"*
Behold! A Terrorist!
It's a charged word. Not used lightly. But THESE fuckers? Oh ho ho! THESE fuckers?! "Ooooh~! Look at MEEEEE! I'm gonna play with FORCES I DONT UNDERSTAAAAAAAND! Destabilize my whole funckin UNIVERSE! Kill countless TRILLIONS OF TRILLIONS! Cause life was bad to me personally and I'm mad about it! Wah wah wah!!" ASSHOLES!
These fuckers? Cause Collapses. Blow Outs. Weird Fucked Up Cancerous Real Growths. You ever seen the Cleaners? No? You don't WANT TOO. They are basically eldritch, deep sea, angler fish looking mother fuckers THE SIZE OF SOLAR SYSTEMS. They travel in SCHOOLS.
BIG ONES.
When Realities collapse, they "fall off" as it were. Detach. And have to get recycled. All the countless impurities of Life eaten way to a blank slate. So it too, can start again. Thus the Fish. But! They ALSO eat anything "problematic".
Like tumors. Cancers. Poisoned, Multiversal Threats. Those quote on quote "God Killers".
Yes. Yes this IS part of why you DONT want to be near a Collapsing Reality.
No I WON'T explain how I know.
I DONT WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.
*smack the board with pointer* pay attention.
Jason Todd. Not! An Asshole. Sexy thighs. Fancy lil hair strip. We all miss him. But! He's off living his "no really, I'm totally alive, guys" hot girl summer or whatever. We are going to respect that! But!!! How did that happen? When he was DEFINITELY Hella dead?
Superboy Prime-y Pants. Who IS an ASSHOLE.
Because THAT fucker? PUNCHED HIS REALITY SO HARD IT NEARLY SHATTERED. Oh, no, I'm sorry! He punched SOMEONE ELSE'S reality! Because he is a tantruming MAN CHILD! And NOW? Now, Your Majesty, that WHOLE ASS Reality is more hair line cracks then border walls! One good shove? It'll cave in. Killing every soul inside.
The Cleaners are ALREADY circling.
It needs to be patched. Immediately. But that's not something normal ghosts can DO. The Zone won't LISTEN to us. Nor allocate the energy for it. The Concepts of Healing? We can't even FIND them.
We need help.
Please help them, King Phantom. You're the only one who CAN.
@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter
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Text
ATArena
Alexander's phone dinged with a notification, just as he left the exam. It was a beautiful summer afternoon, and he was still talking with a few other students, so, naturally, he ignored the unexpected noise. Even though Alexander was certainly a digital native, he found it rude to check his phone while in company of others. He didn't particularly enjoy his current company: He found Christopher the guy that was currently bragging about how easy the exam was slightly annoying, but that wasn't a reason not to show good manners.
Only after their ways split, Alexander unlocked his phone and saw the notification: "Your watched App, ATArena, is now available."
ATArena? Alexander didn't remember he had watched an app with that name. Still, the notification seemed genuine and lead him to the app marketplace where he could initiate the download. The description was sparse: "An epic battle with a revolutionary matchmaking algorithm that will extend into real life!"
That sounded like an AR game of some sort. Alexander had enjoyed the big Pokeman Run hype some years ago and certainly didn't mind giving this app a try.
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When he opened the app for the first time, it asked him for the usual: His real name as well as his nickname. Alexander put in the same for the latter that he used everywhere: Lex_88. A short busy spinner appeared and finally, a message box greeted him:
"Welcome to ATArena, Lex_88! A suitable opponent has already been found. Connecting now..."
After he tapped "Ok", a chat interface opened:
TopShot joined the game.
TopShot: Hi.
Alexander didn't know how to react exactly. He was socially awkward, but ignoring the unknown other player would be rude. So, he just typed:
Lex_88: Hi.
Before any of them could type anything else, a popup opened:
"Battle available! Tap to play."
Alexander tapped the button and wondered what would happen now. Was this some kind of word puzzle or quiz against each other?
What opened though, was a simple depiction of three six-sided dice. When Alexander tapped them, a roll animation appeared until they settled at 14 eyes in total. Not bad!
"Lex_88 rolled: 14. TopShot rolled: 10. Lex_88 wins!"
The screen changed to a wheel of fortune now, which was already in motion. When it came to a stop, it showed a muscled arm emoji and the sparkling word "Bicep size" appeared on his screen.
Immediately, Alexander felt a weird tingling in his upper arms, accompanied by a tightness in the sleeves of his sweater. He locked his phone and scratched his arms but stopped immediately when his fingers met unexpected resistance. His upper arms seemed to have... swollen? What was happening?
Still on the university campus, Alexander made a dash for the nearest restroom and pulled off his sweater. He could hardly believe his eyes: His biceps had grown *considerably*, straining the seams of the t-shirt he wore underneath. When he moved his arms, the muscles bulged and contracted. It was a surreal feeling for sure. Was that the doing of this game?
Alexander unlocked his phone again saw a new message:
"Challenge! Record a video flexing your guns and upload it to social media!"
When he dismissed the message, he typed a message to his opponent.
Flex_88💪: Holy shit! My arms just grew!
Alexander stopped for a moment. Flex_88💪? That wasn't his nickname. Yet, when he scrolled up, it clearly appeared that way - that was the name saying "Hi." in the message before. It wasn't that far off from his usual nickname, which was... Flex_88💪. What was he even thinking about? That was just his screen name that he used almost everywhere, because of his biceps, obviously. His last message didn't make much sense, though. He added a:
Flex_88💪: I mean, they're pretty big, as always. Never mind!
It didn't feel good to brag, but there didn't seem to be a way to delete the message. But he might as well do the challenge now. It wasn't that unusual for him to post pictures and videos of his arms on social media, so, he recorded a short clip, made sure to crop out his surroundings and his face and sent the video to his LaterGram profile.
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Just as he was done, TopShot had answered:
TopShot: Uhm, good for you, dude.
TopShot: Seems like you've won the last game.
Flex_88💪: Yeah, but it was pure luck. I'm sure you're gonna win the next one.
As if on cue, another "Battle available" popup opened. This time, Alexander's roll was pretty bad. The dice showed 2-5-2, bringing him to a meager 9, a bit below the expected value.
"Flex_88💪 rolled: 9. TopShot rolled: 9. Tie! Both win!"
Apparently, TopShot wasn't having a very lucky day, either. The wheel turned and showed a drop emoji. Alexander was still thinking about what could be the meaning of the drop, when the word appeared: "Libido".
Libido? So, this was an 18+ game? Still, Alexander felt hot all of a sudden. His cock was stiffing up and he realized that it had been ages since his last jerk-off. Hornyness clouded his mind, when the next popup opened:
"Challenge! Use a pick-up line on someone you fancy."
Alexander was usually way too shy to approach another guy, but in his current situation even thinking about sending someone a pick-up line seemed like a good idea. He could just send that TopShot guy one, he had the advantage that Alexander didn't know him and probably never would meet.
He thought about his options and decided that a classic would be the best choice.
Flex_88💪: You know, my arms aren't the only thing big right now ;-)
It only took a moment for the other player to respond.
SwitchHit: I know what you mean.
SwitchHit sent an image.
Alexander hesitated only a bit before he opened the image. Yep. It was a picture of a tented boxershorts, snapped from a hastily opened pair of pants. Alexander could feel his cock throb. If he wasn't in public... No, he had to restrain himself. Even though he was still horny, which really wasn't unusual for him, he took a breather and tried to fight his boner down. He had just masturbated before he left for class, it was just amazing how needy his cock could be. His phone dinged as he readjusted himself and left the bathroom.
SwitchHit: Looking forward to the next game. I mean it's just dice rolling and stupid challenges, but it's fun.
Even though Alexander agreed, something seemed off. Had SwitchHit changed his screen name? No, didn't seem that way.
"Battle available!"
Alexander immediately rolled his dice and hardly could believe his eyes: three sixes, a solid 18.
"Flex_88💪 rolled: 18. SwitchHit rolled: 15. Flex_88💪wins! Critical!"
15 was a pretty good roll, but nothing could beat Alexander's 18. He grinned as the wheel stopped on "Confidence".
"Challenge! Approach a local gym and negotiate a free trial using nothing but your charm and confidence. "
Xander grinned. Yeah, that was an awesome idea. He was originally on his way home, but finally joining a gym was long overdue. Luckily, there was one right on his way. Half an hour later, he had a full two month free trial and also a protein shaker as a gift. It had been easier than Xander had thought.
Suddenly, he remembered the game.
Flex_88💪: Hey SwitchHit, you still there?
SwitchHit: Yeah, sorry, I didn't want to message so much. Sorry!
Xander rolled his eyes. That guy needed to grow some balls. He was just about to reply, when the next battle was available. Xander really had to admit, what SwitchHit said was true: It was kind of fun!
This time, Xander rolled bad: The three dice showed a measly 8 points. Unsurprisingly, SwitchHit won.
"Flex_88💪 rolled: 8. SwitchHit rolled: 14. SwitchHit wins!"
Damn, this was the first time Xander lost. The wheel landed on a brain-emoji, and, unsurprisingly, it was labelled with "Smarts".
Xander scratched his head. What did that mean? Would he have some penalty challenge now? He would see soon enough.
"Challenge! Skip reading your usual news or books for the day. Instead, binge-watch a reality TV series."
Xander scratched his head again. Did he really want to do that?
Well, of course he wanted to! That sounded like a fun evening. Why would he read books?! He didn't even own books!
Flex_88💪: Man, those challenges are really ez. I need to watch some TV this evening, not read sum bokshit.
Xander typed the message as he arrived at his apartment. He fixed himself a quick dinner and sat down on the couch, turning on the TV.
SwitchHit: I agree. I have to read some Ovid tonight, which I find rather light literature.
Flex_88💪: Whatev you say, man. Hey, by the way, what's your name?
Flex_88💪: Mine's Xander.
SwitchHit: I don't know, I probably shouldn't share my real name on the internet.
Flex_88💪: Aw, come on. As if I could find out where you live with only your real name.
SwitchHit: ...Right. I'm called Chris.
Flex_88💪: Like Christian? Christopher?
SwitchHit: No, just Chris.
Flex_88💪: K. Hey, that pic was pretty hot back then.
They chatted a bit during the evening and exchanged some more pictures of tented pants. Xander was only half paying attention to the reality show on his screen, as one of his hands was more or less constantly in his pants. Still, it was just friendly teasing, no downright cyber-sex.
Eventually, Xander had finished the season and went to bed. SwitchHit - Chris - had called it a night an hour ago, but he still had to finish the last episodes. Good thing he didn't draw the book shit. That would've taken a week, not an evening.
When Xander woke up the next morning, the next battle was already waiting for him. He rolled the dice as he crawled out of bed, again rolling abyssal. Only six eyes were visible on his dice.
"Flex_88💪 rolled: 6. SwitchHit rolled: 10. SwitchHit wins!"
This time, the wheel landed on "Personality". Weird. That was a pretty vague category.
"Challenge! Show someone their place."
Xander raised his eyebrows. What a weird challenge. Anyway, time to for groceries!"
Xander drove over to the store in his old and cheap car. However, when he arrived, another visitor to the gym took the parking spot directly in front of the entrance. What an asshole!
Xander parked and got out of his car, quickly approaching the unsuspecting guy that just stole *his* spot.
"Hey, asshole! What do you think you're doing?!"
The man, a young guy with glasses and a bit on the nerdy side, looked up, surprised.
"What's your problem?"
"I'm the problem. Your problem. You just took my parking spot."
"Your spot? Don't be ridiculous."
Xander's hands balled into fists. That guy was really annoying!
"That was my spot, asshole. If you don't get your ass moving, I'll *make* you move."
"Alright, alright, chill down. Geez."
The other guy got in his car and parked in another spot. Xander nodded satisfied. He had shown him. Oh. Right, the challenge.
Entering the building (without moving his car), Xander checked his phone and sent SwitchHit a message:
Tank: Man, people are crazy today. Some asshole took my parking spot and I had to show him.
SwitchHit: Sorry to hear that.
SwitchHit: Did you change your screen name?
Tank: Nope. It's Tank, as it has always been. Because I'm a fricking TANK!
SwitchHit: Yeah. That makes sense.
"Battle available!"
Xander was collecting stuff from the shelves when he rolled the dice in-between. He rolled a solid 14, but Chris beat him by one point.
"Tank rolled: 14. SwitchHit rolled: 15. SwitchHit wins!"
Xander cursed loudly, making a few heads turn in the shop. The wheel turned and finally landed on a heart shape. "Empathy" it read. Another one of those fuzzy words.
"Challenge! Cut ties that hold you back!"
Xander scratched his head. What was that supposed to mean? He really wanted to win this game, so what did he have to do now?
As he thought about this, another message popped up, this time from the chat group with his closest circle of friends, who were planning their next meet-up. If Xander thought about it, he was really annoyed by those guys. They were all nerds and losers who always had shit ideas like board games and stuff. Without a second thought, Xander replied to the group.
Tank: I'm not coming. Those gatherings are a waste of time. Get lost, losers!
With that, he left the group and blocked the numbers of his so called friends. He had better things to do.
"Battle available!"
Like that, for example. Chris, who went by the silly nickname of CuddleBug, was at least a horny bastard like Xander himself. With a tap, he rolled the dice.
"Tank rolled: 12. CuddleBug rolled: 10. Tank wins!"
Oh yeah! The roll wasn't even so great, yet still he won. Xander smiled even broader when the wheel landed on a muscular torso, labelled simply: "Muscles."
In an instant, Xander felt his whole body swell up. No wonder. Axel basically *lived* in the gym. As he looked down, the fabric of his shirt had turned almost transparent with the sudden expansion of his muscles. It wasn't just his torso, of course. Axel didn't skip leg day, so his quads and hamstrings grew to impressive size, too. His shoulders were getting broad and wide, as well, to the point where he had difficulties reaching his back.
"Challenge! Show your gainz, buy a muscle shirt!"
Axel could have slapped his forehead. Why didn't he think of that himself - and sooner? He needed to share that thought.
Tank: Hey Chris, what ya tink? I should get a muscle shirt, huh?
Tank sent an image.
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CuddleBug: Omg, yes. That will look awesome. I wish I had muscles like that.
Axel grinned. Right. No wonder that Chris agreed, Axel's muscles were a sight to behold. Good thing he was already in a store. He quickly bought a few muscle shirts, enough to replace his usual wardrobe. After paying for his purchase, Axel put on the new shirt right on the parking lot before squeezing himself into his car.
"Battle available!"
The game was pretty fast-paced. Axel tapped to roll the dice and was pumping his fist, when one after another, all three dice ended up showing a six.
"Tank rolled: 18. CuddleBug rolled: 4. Tank wins! Critical!"
"Ha! Yes!" Axel cheered and the wheel spun until it showed "Dominance".
A surge of excitement and satisfaction rushed through Axel's veins. He felt *good* all of a sudden. And *powerful*.
"Challenge! Assert your dominance! Challenge a gym bro today!"
Axel grinned. Yeah, that was exactly his thing. He needed to get to the gym anyway. That free membership was hard earned. Also, Chri- Kit seemed to like his gains. Time to make some more.
It was still early afternoon, and the gym wasn't packed with visitors yet, when Axel arrived. There were a few regulars, as always. A short dude with a moustache that looked like a wannabe porn star and a big dude with a neckbeard were currently occupying the bench press, while a girl in her 40s did lat pulls.
Confidently and arrogantly, Axel readjusted his half-hard cock and approached the big guy.
"Yo, man. You're pretty buff. But I bet I can still take you easily. Wann wrestle?"
The large dude looked at Axel for a moment. Axel could see a vein on his neck throb.
"You little shit. You think you're better than me, huh? Fine, let's do this."
In the pocket of his gym shorts, Axel could feel his phone vibrate.
"Ha. Lead the way, I'm gonna wipe the floor with you."
As he followed the big guy to the mats, Axel checked his phone.
"Battle available!"
Great! Before he kicked some ass, he could play some more! While walking, he rolled the dice and scored a 15!
"Tank rolled: 15. CuddleBug rolled: 9. Tank wins!"
He didn't have time to watch the wheel this time, so he didn't notice that it landed on "Stamina." He also didn't see the challenge, which simply read: "Kick some ass!"
The big guy was already waiting for him on the mats, but Axel felt incredibly cocky. This was gonna be easy!
"No rules, no limits, no mercy." Axel said and the other guy nodded.
"That's the way it's gonna be. No mercy, punk."
"Bring it, tubby."
The big guy was the first to charge and he was surprisingly fast for his size. However, his speed and strength were no match for Axel's new found muscles. Even though they wrestled for a few minutes, Axel found himself not even tiring much. Finally, he was able to flip his opponent around and lock him on the ground. He tried to struggle, but Axel held his arms and legs firmly in place.
"Give up, man. You can't win."
The big guy tried to wiggle out of Axel's grip, but to no avail. He could struggle and shout as much as he wanted, but Axel was the one on top.
Finally, the guy gave up and admitted defeat.
"Ha! Loser!" Axel cheered and got up. He had a full boner now, both from the sweaty wrestling as well as from the display of dominance, but he didn't hide it. Instead, he headed to the showers and let Kit know of his triumph on the way.
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XxBeastxX: I just *dominated* some fuckin weakass in the gym. Wrestled him down and he was crying and everything.
Kit answered right away.
CuddleBug: You're awesome.
CuddleBug: I wish I could have been in this place.
XxBeastxX: Ha. Course I am.
XxBeastxX: Huh? Whatya mean?
CuddleBug: Nothing. Never mind.
Axel was about to answer, but yet another "Battle available!" message popped up.
This game was seriously addictive! Axel rolled the dice and had a 10, which was decidedly less than what Kit had.
"XxBeastxX rolled: 10. CuddleBug rolled: 11. CuddleBug wins!"
"Damn." Axel said, but the wheel landed on "Generosity." He was almost glad he lost. Otherwise, the challenge would probably have been something like "Donate to the homeless" or some shit. What did the homeless ever do for him?
Instead, the challenge was:
"Challenge! Sell something of sentimental value!"
Huh. Well, Axel didn't really have anything he would consider "sentimental". His old PS2 that he got from his uncle for his 10th birthday was a bit sentimental, but other than that... Oh! His old car would probably qualify.
Axel thought about it. On the one hand, his old car was a piece of shit, and he shouldn't care much about it, but on the other hand... It would be a shame if he would have to say goodbye to his baby. Would it? No, not really. It was a pain to squeeze into it anyway. And if he played his cards right, he would even get some good money for it.
The decision was easy, and after showering, Axel drove to the nearest car dealer. It was a hard bargain, but in the end, he managed to persuade the guy to buy his car. It wasn't a high price, but it was more than what the piece of crap was really worth.
Just as he finished the contract, his phone dinged. It was rude, of course, but he didn't give a flying shit about that and checked his phone. It was from Kit, of course.
TwinkyKit: I just donated some money to the homeless. That felt good!
Axel snorted. Of course, how pathetic.
XxBeastxX: Good. Maybe now they won't be so fucking lazy anymore and work a little.
"Battle available!"
It seemed like the game always interrupted their chats. Well, anyway. He quickly rolled the dice, while the car dealer waited patiently to return his attention to him again. The dice turned out lower than Kit's again and after reading the wheel result and the challenge, Axel looked back up to the car dealer. For a split second, the "Money" challenge was still visible on the screen: "Challenge! Buy a muscle car! You know you want it!"
Damn right he did. Jax had always wanted to have a muscle car. He just never had the money. Bullshit. He never had the balls to take on some debt to buy one.
The car dealer was more than willing to help Jax chose and set up the necessary credit paperwork. He didn't even read this shit and selected a car immediately. A shiny, silver beast with a huge engine. It was a bit pricy, but it was worth it, at least to Jax. After he received the keys, he messaged Kit.
XxBeastxX: While you were busy giving money to some crackheads, I got myself something new. Check this out!
XxBeastxX sent an image.
XxBeastxX sent an image.
The first image was the car of course. The second was a dick pic, for good measures. Jax didn't really care that he was still at the car dealer when he lowered his pants for a moment to snap the pic.
TwinkyKit: OMG. You're such a stud.
XxBeastxX: Thanks, Twinky.
XxBeastxX: By the way, show some respect!
He drove back home, feeling great.
At home, the next battle was already available. Jax grinned and rolled the dice. He could hardly believe what he saw: 3 single eyes. He rolled a fucking 3.
"XxBeastxX rolled: 3. TwinkyKit rolled: 3. Tie! Both lose! Critical!"
What a pathetic roll, for both of them!
The wheel landed on "Impulse Control". This was getting interesting. It was true, Jax was notoriously bad at controlling himself. He just bought a new car, on a whim. So whatever challenge was coming his way shouldn't be too hard.
"Challenge! Get that tat!"
Jax didn't think much about it. Sure, why not. He would probably regret it, but that was something future Jax would have to deal with. He started his shiny new car again and drove to a nearby tattoo studio.
When the artist asked what kind of design he wanted, he only thought for a second, before deciding: "A dragon, obviously!"
As the artist started working, he massaged his dick with his other hand, earning him a condescending look from the artist. He couldn't help it though. Kit... Kitty would surely love his new tat.
When he sent a pic later, he was proven right:
TwinkyKit: OMG! That's hot.
TwinkyKit: I wish I had one, too.
TwinkyKit: I mean: Sir.
Jax smiled and was about to type a reply, when another "Battle available!"-message distracted him.
He quickly rolled the dice and grinned at the result: 15! That beat Kittys sorry little ass for sure, and he was right. Kitty had a mere 7 points to show. This time, the wheel landed on "Aggressiveness."
If possible, Jax felt even more powerful and manly. The challenge read "Start a bar fight!" and that was exactly what Jax wanted to do this evening. Well, that or fuck some ass, but really, a good bar fight was probably even better tonight.
He quickly messaged Kitty.
Ass_Crusher🍆: Talk to you tomorrow. Gonna kick some ass now. Think of me when you jerk off tonight, boy!
Kitty responded almost instantly, with a picture of his uncut dick.
TwinkyKit: I will, Sir! Have fun.
Jax drove to the nearest gay bar, a shady joint called "Diesel". The music was loud, and the lights were dim. Jax didn't mind the atmosphere, though, instead, he went straight to the bar and ordered a double shot. He downed the drink and ordered a second. Just as the bartender placed the glass in front of him, he grabbed it and threw the liquor right into the bartender's face.
"The fuck?! What are you doing?!"
"What do you think, asshole?" Jax answered, his voice dangerously calm.
"You can't do this!"
"Yeah, I can. And you're going to shut the fuck up."
With those words, Jax slammed his fist in the bartender's face, who immediately fell to the ground. There had been really no reason for him to punch the bartender, but it had the intended effect: From one moment to the other, there was a barfight in full swing.
Of course, everyone tried to overwhelm Jax, but he fought back with vigor and stamina. Several black eyes and a broken nose on his enemies later, the patrons and the bar's bouncer managed to throw Jax out, but still, Jax had a great time, kicking ass and punching dudes. Before someone could call the cops, Jax went home, happy and content.
When Jax woke up the next morning, he almost didn't notice any bruises anymore. Instead, he grabbed his phone while he was doing his morning piss and checked ATArena. Yep, there was another battle available. Time to see if Kitty was already up.
He rolled the dice and only a minute later, Kitty's results came in. Easy win. Jax had rolled only a ten, but Kitty didn't beat him with his pathetic five. However, Jax laughed out loudly, as he saw the wheel's result: Dick size.
"Challenge! Show your assets!"
*That*, Jax could do. He watched as the cock in his hand grew longer and fatter by the second, instantly forgetting that it had once been smaller. No, Jax always had a big, fat and juicy cock, the biggest, actually. With a few last strokes, Jax sent a pic of his cock, the tip glistening wet.
Ass_Crusher🍆: Check that out. That's what a real cock looks like.
Ass_Crusher🍆 sent an image.
Ass_Crusher🍆 sent an image.
Ass_Crusher🍆 sent an image.
Jax sent several more images of his magnificent rod, both naked and wearing tight underwear. As if there was another kind. For Jax, all underwear was tight.
Finally, Kitty responded.
CrushersToyBoy: Fuck. You're so hot, Sir.
CrushersToyBoy sent an image.
Jax smirked. Kitty's own cock was tiny, especially compared to Jax' equipment. It didn't matter much, though. Kitty didn't need it, he needed to have his ass crushed.
Ass_Crusher🍆: I know, babe. I know. You know what I'll do with it now?
"Battle available!"
God dammit. This was getting annoying.
Jax quickly rolled the dice, scoring the top available score! 18 points! But apparently, Kitty was just as lucky, rolling an 18, too.
"Ass_Crusher🍆 rolled: 18. CrushersToyBoy rolled: 18. Tie! Both win! Critical!"
Jax didn't even need to read the attribute to feel it. It was "Libido, again." His already mostly hard cock surged up, becoming a firm steel pipe in his pre-cum soaked underwear. There were no pants on earth that could hide his constant arousal - on some days, even a firm pair of jeans left nothing to imagination and showed a wet patch where his cock was constantly leaking pre. He was a walking and breathing sex machine and Rex knew it. His name was fitting, too. He was a fucking king among men. And today he was going to breed the fuckable ass of that twink.
Ass_Crusher🍆: Get ready, boy. I'm cumming over and I'm gonna split open that ass of yours.
Rex closed the game and deleted it. There was no point in wasting his time with some stupid mobile game. He got back into his car and revved the engine. Oh yeah. Time to get some ass!
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What a great game! I know I wouldn't mind playing if ATArena popped up on my phone, would you?
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