#obey me reverse bunny | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misseviehyde · 9 months

Text

INSTITUTIONALIZED

Michael was smart - real smart. But he also knew that he lived in a society full of institutionalized racism that made it harder for a black kid like him to make it in the white world.

He wanted to go to University, but he knew he would be competing against a lot of spoiled white kids and his family didn't have enough money to support him through even the cheapest college.

True he could skip college and get straight to work but he didn't want to end up like his Uncle Luther who was a petty criminal and a bad role model. Just this morning Luther had woken Michael up and demanded he hide a cache of guns in the house. Michael was afraid of his uncle so he had obeyed.

It was whilst he was looking through the guns, wondering what he had gotten into and where to put them where his Mom wouldn't find them, that he came across a weird looking blaster.�� It looked more like something from a science fiction film than a real gun so he found a serial number on the base and googled it on a black market page.

The info read - "The Costume gun. Stolen hi-tech weapon. Turns anyone fired at into an empty skin that can be worn to allow a person to adopt their identity. Highly dangerous experimental weapon. Can cause identity dysmorphia."

Michael was astonished. He checked a bit further and soon became convinced this was the real deal. A gun that could let him take another persons identity was now in his possession. A lot of things began to click in his mind. What if he used the gun to steal the life of a rich, privileged white person about to go to college?

It seemed evil to steal another life, but Michael was sick of being denied opportunities because of systematic racism. He could zap some dumb frat boy - study at university and then one day reverse the effect perhaps. He could work it out as he went along - he just knew he needed to get out of this life.

But where was he gonna find a frat boy?

He put the gun in his bag and went out for a walk to think it over.

It was whilst he was walking down an empty street that he saw Madison Laine - the richest bitch in the neighbourhood approaching. She was walking and talking on her mobile phone to her slutty friends whilst chewing gum. Her tight outfit left very little to the imagination - a tiny pair of daisy dukes and a tight pink boob tube.

She was the same age as Michael but they were definitely not in the same social circles. Madison went to an exclusive private school and her Daddy was a multi-millionaire oil magnate. She was spoiled, beautiful and rich and already had a place at an Ivy League University. He had read about her online - she was already a semi-famous instagrammer and aspiring model. Everyone in the area lusted after her in one way or another.

She was also a total bitch and as Michael approached the look of total disdain in her eyes made something in him snap. She giggled and a sneer appeared on her pretty lips. "Oh my gosh girls, I thought all black guys were fucking hot - but I just saw this TOTAL fucking nerd. What a LOSER."

Madison had quite the taste for black guys. She apparantly only fucked black cock and could be found out in the clubs cheating on her white boyfriend nearly every night. That would have turned a lot of black guys on - a perfect blonde snow bunny ready to give herself to superior men.

But Michael was sick of privileged sluts like this one treating black guys like they were either nothing, or simply big dicks to fetishize over. He walked past Madison in barely contained fury and she caught his expression and scowled.

"Hey you... you fucking nerd. How dare you like look at me like that. I'm your fucking superior and you better fucking show it."

Michael ground his teeth. "You're not my superior, you're just an over-privileged white girl that thinks she deserves all her Daddy's blood money."

"Hold on girls, I just need to deal with something," grinned Madison as she hung up. Advancing on Michael she jabbed him hard in the chest with a long acyrillic nail and giggled as he yelped in pain. "Haha, listen dork. All I have to do is make one call to the cops. 'Ohhhhh, help me help me.' Who knows what those racist fucks will do when they see me, the scared innocent white girl being pestered by you."

"You fucking bitch," snapped Michael and suddenly the gun was in his hands.

"What the fuck is that? A toy? Ohhhh this gets even better. They'll probably shoot you when they see you're 'armed'." Laughing Madison began to dial 911.

With a gasp of panic Michael pulled the trigger.

The gun whined and a pink ray leapt out and engulfed Madison. Her face turned suprised, then the beautiful slut moaned softly as her body deflated and in an instant she was just an empty skin lying on the pavement with a discarded handbag and phone next to it.

Michael felt a cold moment of panic - what the hell had he done that for?

He immediately considered flipping the reverse switch and transforming her back - but he knew full well Madison would call the cops. She wouldn't be grateful for him reversing the rays effects.

In a panic he reached down and gathered the skin. It was impossibly soft and her skin smelt amazing. Her hair was even nicer to touch and still felt warm. He stuffed the skin and all the skimpy clothes into his bag and ran home.

On the way, Michael imagined what would happen if a cop stopped him and searched him. How would he explain this situation. He felt more anger than ever.

Safe back home Michael laid Madison and her things on his bed. What was he going to do? If Madison didn't turn up, her bitchy friends and family would stop at nothing to track her down. They'd easily track her back to him and he'd be screwed. If he turned her back, she'd just call the cops on him. He had no choice... he was going to have to become Madison.

A shameful part of him was excited at the idea as he examined the tiny skin and all her girly clothes.

Michael stripped off and then picking up Madison, examined how to wear her. There was a slit down the back of the suit - so he opened it and slowly pushed his feet inside. The skin was soft and warm and his feet slid easily inside. It felt like the skin was eagerly welcoming him inside and clinging to him possessively.

It looked weird as his feet and legs slid in and Madison's skin overrode his. Not only were his legs now perfectly smooth and sexy - they were white. His feet were tiny now. Somehow the skin was making him smaller, fitting him inside. He wiggled his toes and gasped to see the ten perfectly pedicured toes wriggle with their white nails and toe rings.

"Hmmmm this feels pretty good," groaned Michael as he pulled the skin up to his waist. He thrust his cock deep inside the groin of the skin and snapped Madison's taut buttocks over his own. His cock tingled and then sensation vanished, instead replaced by Madison's pampered pink pussy - freshly waxed and shaven.

"Holy fuck I have a pussy now," grinned Michael sliding his fingers in and gasping as he felt them slide deep into his own velvety softness. This was the real deal - the skin was reallt making him into a girl.

He quickly pulled the rest of it up, tugging Madison's big heavy boobs into place. They felt amazing on his body and it was weird to look down and see them hanging there - but also kind of nice. Each one was full and round. Rubbing the nipples felt good.

His whole body was tiny and curvy now. Entirely hairless. A bellybutton ring twinkled in his toned abdomen and washboard tummy.

His arms were now slender and lightly tanned, the fingers ending in slutty acryllic nails and ornamented with rings.

Only one thing was left to do.

With a tingle of excitement Michael slid his head inside Madison's beautiful face and shivered as he felt the slot on the back seal up and the suit tighten.

Blonde hair fastened to his scalp and his eyes rolled up as his voice box changed and he moaned in feminine pleasure as the suit completed transforming him into Madison.

A hot flush ran through him and his head tingled. A host of unfamiliar memories throbbed in his mind and he realised he was gaining all of Madison's knowledge and memories along with enough of her personality and mannerisms to pass safely as her.

You naughty boy... how does it feel inside me. Good huh?

A voice seemed to whisper in Michael's head telling him he was someone else now. Someone better.

Yesssss Michael. You're a naughty white girl now - you're a slut and a bitch. Your Daddy is rich and you can be a spoiled little whore, every single day. This is what you wanted all along. You're Madison now!

Turning to the mirror the new Madison; giggled as she saw her reflection. A pretty bitch used to getting what she wanted, when she wanted it. It felt good to be Madison.

"Ohhhh fuck I feel like sooooo fucking naughty, mmmmmh I am sooooo hawt now."

Michael smirked at how big his white titties were and how sexy his manicured nails felt. It was amazing to be this beautiful.

Yessss that's it. You're me now loser. You love being me. Your mind is becoming my mind. Our thoughts and desires are as one. You are inside me and you never want to leave.

Muchael purred as he accepted these strange new thoughts. Whilst in the skin it was so easy to think, act and feel like a naughty bitch. All thoughts of taking the skin off were burned away by Madison's intrinsic narcissism. Why would anyone NOT want to be her?

Michael knew inside he was still Michael; but right now Michael was enjoying being Madison too much to care. Taking control of Madison's white privilege was making him feel dizzy.

Eughhhh I have to get out of this dump and back to my mansion. I totally have plans to make and college is going to be so much fun now I'm an Alpha bitch.

Picking up Madison's phone Michael laughed delightedly as it unlocked via face recognition. Her life was his. He WAS Madison. He hadn't meant to use the gun on her, but he had and it was too late now.

"Yessss, as Madison I can have it all. I deserve to be the pampered spoiled brat who gets what she wants. Being a mean, white, brat is gonna be so much fun. No wait... what am I saying? I hate girls like Madison."

That's why you wanna be me so badly dweeb. You lust to have my white privilege and get it all. You can't fight me Michael, you're already under my control. Give yourself to me and take your place as the new Madison.

Lying on his bed Michael began to helplessly play with his new body. He was being overwhelmed by Madison's bratty personality, he was becoming her.

You are ME loser.

Michael/Madison opened her eyes and giggled. Of course she was her. Who else would she be?

Her personality now in flux she was about to play with herself some more when she suddenly heard a creak downstairs and her heart skipped a beat. Who the fuck could that be?

The answer came as the door opened and Luther suddenly walked in. He was back to collect his guns, but he gawped and looked amazed as he beheld the gorgeous white girl in his dweeby nephews room. "Hey gorgeous who the fuck are you?"

Michael was usually scared of Luther but now he was Madison, he felt different. In fact Madison felt turned on by this situation. She had never noticed how big and strong Luther was. She bet he had a big dick too.

"Ohhhh hey, you must be Luther. I'm Michael's friend from school Madison. In fact we're like actually we're fuck buddies. Mmmmh you see, I can't get enough of black guys you see - I love a big black cock, it's what I live for. Michael is totally average but he's still superior to some white loser."

Michael was amazed at the slutty trash coming out of his mouth - but the Madison part of him was just turned on by it. She felt her pussy get wet as Luther looked at her appraisingly and he unzipped his fly slowly.

"You little white slut - you think my nerdy Nephew is a good fuck, you should come suck on a real mans cock."

"Mmmmh like ummm okay," giggled Madison without hesitation as Luther's massive black dick flopped out and she hungrily advanced.

Michael found his mouth salivating. He couldn't control himself. He was a horny white size queen now and he needed big cock. He couldn't control his new body as Madison's instincts took control.

Meanwhile Luther groaned happily as Madison lowered herself to her knees and slid her hot wet mouth around his dick.

He had no idea his dweeby Nephew had such great taste.

Licking and stroking Luther's cock - worshiping it in delight - Madison giggled as it got bigger and bigger for her. She knew this was twisted and wrong - potentially incestuous even if Luther was a distant 'uncle', but in this skin she wasn't Luther's Nephew anymore - she was a spoiled size queen who loved a big black dick and Luther was all hers. The sense of power - of knowing Luther wanted and needed her mouth and pussy so bad was intoxicating.

Madison got to work sucking and slurping on the monster cock before her. She had memories of sucking lots of cock - but this was actually the biggest she had ever had and of course in reality - for Michael this was his first. The skin gave him the muscle memory and skills of a practiced college cheerleader - Madison had learned to suck cock years ago and she loved to swallow cum.

Luther moaned in pleasure. This bitch was amazing. "Yesssss that's it baby. White sluts like you live to suck black dick. Work that tongue baby, suck it real good."

Yesss Michael. You really wanna know how it feels to be a slut and be me, hurry up and get that cock inside you. This monster is all yours and it's going to feel so good stretching your tight young pussy out. You're such a bad girl and you love it. At college there will be even more cock to ride. I know you can't wait. You're Madison now so enjoy it!

"Yessss I love being Madison, oooohbh I need you to fuck me Luther - I want your cock so bad," whined Madison as she finished slurping and looked at him endearingly. The voice in her head made her want to do such deliciously nasty things. "Please fuck my pussy."

Luther bent Madison over and slapped her ass hard. She moaned and pushed her back up - presenting her tight pussy to her lover as he growled in appreciation and slowly pushed his massive cock inside Madison's super tight teenage pussy

"Ohhhhh fuck yes - ohhhh its so big!" moaned Madison in joy as Luther began to slide in and out of her soaking pussy and thrust harder and harder into her. It felt so good and her huge tits jiggled as he fucked the shit out of her.

Being a white slut feels good doesn't it? You love being me.

Luther pounded Madison and she squealed as she orgasmed over his dick. Then he picked her up and fucked her even deeper till she came again.

Madison's pussy juices were dripping down lubricating his cock and making him slide so deep into her perfect pussy and fucking her felt so good. Luther couldn't take much more of this insatiable slut. She was a sex machine.

"Shit baby - I'm gonna cum," he grunted.

"Yessss do it all over my face; I want all that cum," begged Madison. Luther was happy to oblige and she squealed in delight as he unloaded all over her pretty face. Thick globs of warm cum erupted over her lips and her chin, dripping down onto her large firm tits.

With cum dripping over his outer body and making him feel like such a delicious whore - inside the skin Michael had accepted that this was his new life now.

Being Madison felt amazing. The devious slut wondered whether there was even a way to make Luther appear responsible for Michael's inevitable disappearance in a few days. Maybe she could engineer something after all she had Luther hooked now.

"Damn girl that pussy is fine. Are you in town all summer?"

"Yeah; till I go to college. We can fuck again if you like baby?"

Luther grinned. He was all for more but he had no idea the horny slut in front of him was already planning to make it look like he killed Michael in a fit of jealousy and her Daddy's lawyers would make mincemeat out of this idiot and keep the story out of the papers. Money and white privillege always won in the end.

"Ooohhh and in the meantime we can fuck that big dick and cum all night. Hehe we're so bad."

Michael had become exactly the sort of white privileged manipulative bitch he had always despised. As Madison he would go to University, join a sorority ride a lot of dick and party. It was gonna be fun. Michael was now Madison and he had definitely been institutionalized.

She was gonna use the system to get what she wanted and spend her days filled with big black dick. Fetish or no fetish she was an evil blonde whore and college was going to be a blast.

THE END

#evie hyde #bitchification #m2f transformation #corruption #skinsuit #skin

185 notes · View notes

arianatheangel-girl · 1 year

Text

Five Sleepy Heads

Author’s note: This is more or less a plot bunny that wouldn’t leave my head after watching Agent Elvis again. For now this is just a one-shot (I used the name Erin as a placeholder), but please let me know if you’d like me to keep going with this idea! Also, this is kind of a work in progress, so I apologize if it seems a little disjointed in spots. I sure hope you like it!

Tagging: @heartbrake-hotel @loving-elvis @star-shard @eliseinmemphis

****

“You had your hand on the trigger! What the hell did you think would happen?”

“I was winging it! And besides, I thought the safety was on anyway!”

Elvis rubbed his forehead in frustration. This argument with the Commander was going nowhere, and he was beginning to get a headache.

It’s not like he wanted this to happen. How was he supposed to know that the stolen ray gun he and Cece were supposed to collect contained a youth serum (that had now turned one of their TCB contacts back into a baby)?

He’d just meant to threaten the terrorists with it and thus get him and the others out of there, but Bobby Ray had fallen into him and he’d accidentally shot their TCB contact, Erin, with the weapon instead of his intended target.

Now, they had a baby girl on their hands, and no clue what to do with her.

Elvis sighed. “Look, there’s gotta be a reversal function or something so we can switch her back, right? Don’t tell me you guys don’t have contingency plans for this sort of shit.”

“It’s a youth serum, not a fucking Etch-a-Sketch! We can’t reverse something like this so easily!”

Elvis was about to make a smart remark back, but then he heard a familiar sound: a baby screaming and crying. But unlike Cece (who kept saying many times she was not a kid person), he could tell what this cry meant; he’d developed a bit of an ear since having Lisa Marie, and could tell that certain pitches of cries meant things like hungry or wet or tired.

And judging from what he was hearing, this kid was seriously overtired, and Cece was clearly stressed out and not making things any better. So he needed to step in and help.

“Look, we’ll continue this bitch fest later. Right now, that little kid needs my help.” Elvis told the Commander before leaving and heading towards the impromptu nursery they’d set up in the TCB headquarters.

In the room, Cece was unsuccessfully trying to calm Erin’s cries by giving her different toys. Erin mostly just kept throwing them back at her face. So clearly this wasn’t working.

“Shh, shh kid, it’s okay. Here, look at the pretty colors!” she cooed, laying the baby on the colorful play mat on her back, and tapping Erin’s mobile to try and quiet her.

She began to look a little desperate when the baby still kept crying; she’d been wailing for the past half hour at least, and Cece had no clue how to deal with babies; it’s not like that had been part of her TCB training.

“Oh, for the love of God. Look, I don’t know what you want. What do you want from me, kid? What? What?” She begged, desperately shaking a rattle in the screaming baby’s face.

At that moment, Elvis burst open the door and immediately went over to the sobbing baby, scooping her off the play mat up into his arms and starting to rock her. “Shh, shh shh shh. It’s okay, baby girl. Daddy’s here, Daddy’s got you.” He murmured to the baby, not even really thinking about his words as his natural parental instinct started to take over.

Cece looked confused. “Wha—what are you doing, I’ve got this—!”

Elvis shook his head. “Look, just do me a favor and dim the lights, okay?”

Stressed, and not in any position to argue (nor with any stamina to do so), Cece obeyed.

Elvis then went over to the rocking chair and wound up a music box, which began to play the tune of Brahms’ Lullaby. He smiled as he rocked the baby and began to sing; this trick worked with baby Lisa Marie all the time.

There were five sleepy heads

All tucked into their beds

While I sang a lullaby

One got dream dust in her eye

There were four sleepy heads

Playing possum with me

Mr. Sandman came by

And then there were three

As he sang and rocked, Cece watched in amazement as the baby’s cries softened, and then ceased altogether. He really did seem like a natural with kids. Seeing Erin calm down, Elvis smiled and gently wiped away her tears, before cuddling her close and stroking her tiny tufts of blonde hair as he continued to sing.

Moonbeams played peek-a-boo

Three awake became two

And my song was almost done

When the land of nod took one

As he came towards the end of the song, the little one was already nodding off. Smiling, Elvis continued to sing the last verse of the song as he got up from the rocking chair, lifting the blankets of the baby’s cradle, before kissing her forehead and tucking her in as he started to rock the cradle. He didn’t even notice Cece had left the room already.

Kissed the last one goodnight

Then I heard not a peep

There were five sleepy heads

Now they're all fast asleep

Elvis smiled as he watched the baby fall asleep in the cradle, rocking it for a little while longer until he was certain she was fully asleep. “Goodnight, yittle one.” He whispered, giving the baby a final goodnight kiss as he slipped out of the room.

It was then he noticed Cece, sitting on the couch and looking upset with herself. Normally he’d make a smart aleck remark to her right about now, but even he could tell this was not the time to be snarky. Instead, he sat down by her and touched her shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?”

As expected, Cece flinched away from the touch.

“Yeah, yeah. Go on, tell me how I’d be a failure as a mother, just like mine. Go ahead, laugh it up! You know you want to!”

Elvis shook his head. “Now why on earth would I do that? If I’m being honest, you were actually pretty good with her.”

Cece looked up in astonishment. An actual compliment from her “partner”? Was she going crazy?

“What, no smartass quips? No insults? What’s gotten into you, man?” She asked.

Elvis sighed and shook his head again.

“Look; I’m a parent myself. And if there’s one thing I know, it’s this: Sometimes, you can do everything right and the kid’s still upset. Sometimes babies don’t even know what they’re crying about. Trust me; I’ve had my share of those kinds of moments with my own little Lisa Marie.

I can only know what to do in certain situations because I’ve learned to. It’s not something you can just get overnight. And judging from what you told me before, you were making a hell of a lot more of an effort than your ma did with you. So I’d say you were doing a pretty good job.”

For once, Cece didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t used to this kind of attitude from Elvis, or anybody else for that matter.

“I…thank you.” She finally told him.

Elvis just smiled and stood up. “Oh yeah. The ‘no smartass quips’ thing? Don’t get used to it. Now come on, we’ve gotta figure out what to do with this youth serum thing.”

#agent elvis #elvis the king #elvis aaron presley #netflix

25 notes · View notes

lunartrashbin · 1 year

Text

Fandom List

✰Actively apart of fandom (to varying degrees)

Ace Attorney (The Great Chronicles) Animal Crossing Bleach ✰Children of the Whales Cinnamoroll Cookie Run Danganronpa ✰Dragalia Lost Dragon Ball Dungeon Meshi Ephitet Erased Ever After High ✰Fire Emblem ✰Final Fantasy (VII Crisis Core) Food Fantasy ✰Genshin Impact ✰Guilty Gear Hi Fi Rush Honkai Impact 3rd ✰Honkai Star Rail ✰Identity V Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure ✰Kingdom Hearts Mashle: Muscles and Magic Monster High My Hero Acedemia My Little Pony ✰Nijisanji Ni No Kuni Obey Me Omori ✰One Piece Persona (5) Pokemon ✰Project Sekai ✰Reverse: 1999 Tears of Themis Tiger and Bunny ✰Twisted Wonderland Vocaloid ✰Witch Hat Atelier ✰Witch’s Heart Your Turn to Die Zenonzard

Updated 3/27/24

#lunartalks

2 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 2 years

Text

this kingdom iv, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Being without your girlfriend sucks. Being without your girlfriend because she wants to play League of Legends uninterrupted by your dick is a big sulky sadge. Jeon Jungkook is big sulky sadge. He was forced to go on vacation with his friends. He misses your ass. Not you, obviously. Well. A little. Okay... a lot. Hmph.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; Jungkook is low-key high-key? a brat; if you play LoL, spot the references, hehe; intense smut (fem reader, dirty talk, begging, pet name (for JK), scratching / marking, pain kink, choking, reverse cowgirl, handjob, thigh riding, overstimulation, mild restraint, m-receiving oral, shower sex, anal, squirting); non-idol!BTS; long black-haired, tsundere softsub!Jungkook x self-assured, cocky, power-bottom/softdom noona!reader; switches between Jungkook’s and your POV, OT7 scene is third person POV (OT6 are somehow the third wheel lol)

you don’t have to read the other parts to enjoy this

part i | part ii | part iii

Jeon Jungkook often wondered what it was like to have a normal, demure girlfriend.

He did not want one. He just wondered what it was like not to feel violently horny, twenty-five hours a day, eight days a week. Okay, and yes, he sometimes wondered about his own sanity. He wasn’t sure what sane person would be choking their girl from behind while being completely paralyzed because he was hypnotized by her round, juicy ass bouncing on his dick. Yeah, whose girl could get choked and still command the pace of the fucking?

Only his.

No, Jungkook was not taking any refutations.

He tightened his grip around her neck, his fingers pressing down right under her ears, forcing her chin up, the fullness of her ponytail skimming her arched back. Fuck, so fucking hot. He loved reverse cowgirl, not that he would ever say that out loud. But he did, he loved all of it, the way she tipped her head back, the way her shoulder blades flexed, the delicious curve of her spine, the forced definition of her waist, the way it flared out to lush hips, and that sound, ugh, that delicious firm slap of her ass to his crotch, her slick juices sliding down his balls and coating the inside of his thighs, suffocating tightness of pulsating heat wrapped around his entire length, gasping at the feeling of her fingers sinking into his tense thighs, her nails digging in, fucking him up with the visual of her open mouth and her wet, pink tongue curling in the air. On a rollercoaster and he could do nothing about it except grind his free fist into the sheets and clamp his tattooed fingers down on her neck.

Who is the one being choked here? Her or him, fuck, he couldn’t breathe, his inhale caught in his throat from the constant barrage of pleasure that was her powerful pussy squeezing his rock-hard length all over, so good, so fucking good he couldn’t think, his brows furrowing and his eyelids fluttering at the added sensation of her fingernails scratching up his tense thighs, nothing but ecstasy at the hurt.

“Tighter, little bunny,” she growled, her voice thinned out from being choked, and yet her tone was still light, teasing him as if this was nothing.

“Shut up,” Jungkook wheezed out, intending for it to come out as a snarl but he was too messed up to do so, sliding his hand back on the bed, dragging her head back by the neck. Tighter she said, and he obeyed, pressing down harder, moaning as he felt her walls clench and squeeze all around him, his hazy gaze meeting her upside-down one, half-lidded eyes slyly mocking his ruined state, smacking down on him harder, faster, the pleasure burning through him, nerves on fire, sparking shivers all over, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, his eyes darting from bouncing ass to parted lips and lolling tongue and dangerous eyes, so fucking pretty and lewd and calling his name in a sensual hiss, and Jungkook was weak, core tight and whine of her name in his throat, gonna cum, please let me cum, on the edge of fear and want, unsure if he could take it if she denied him, and so he shoved down his pride and pleaded.

“Please…”

She cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Say it again,” she breathed, low and raspy. “I love hearing you beg.”

Sinking down on him, gripping his twitching length with slick walls and throbbing pulses.

He didn’t care anymore, he needed it, need it, I fucking need it right now, please.

“P-Please, noona, f-fuck…!”

She sucked in a breath and moaned loud, right up to the ceiling, clawing at his inner thighs and igniting lines of pain that rolled into crashing waves of her orgasm spiraling around him, fierce smack and vicious constriction all around him, instant splatter of slick sweetness onto his balls, and Jungkook was gone, his hand flying off her neck, needing both to hold himself upright. Gasping for air, bucking his hips up, seeing stars at the unbearable convulsing tightness, shooting his load into the condom, feeling it all over, oh shit, from head to base, vibrating desire from her to him and he could do nothing but let the pleasure consume him, her wild lust eating him up and dragging him to her level, hunted on these proving grounds.

On cloud nine, feeling the slow, measured constriction of her muscles around his shivering cock.

He was panting, feeling like he had just been running for his life. Now groaning, tipping his head back, his long back hair sticking to his face, wet from sweat, his chest quivering as he felt her hand slide between them, smearing her cum onto his balls, massaging them in the slippery mess, her fingers easing in between their joined hips.

“We’re not done,” she drawled, lifting herself off him while holding the condom down, periodically stopping and pulsing around the remainder of his length, still hard as he watched her perfect ass rise off him.

“You’re… c-crazy…” he choked out.

She slowly turned around, predatory smirk on her lips.

Jungkook loved this kingdom.

Well, it was more like tyranny, but apparently that turned his dick on.

Clenched his jaw, growling deep in his chest, knowing his messy black hair, narrowed eyes, and sharp gaze made him look formidable even if this was the one person he could never faze, even if it was never going to work, even if he was always the loser, Jungkook was never going to act like a loser.

Never.

She ticked her chin up, presenting her throat.

He snapped his teeth and his right hand shot up, snatching the offering.

She licked her lips and peeled the condom off him, his own cum and lube leaking down, replacing the condom with her punishing grip, jacking him off hard and fast.

“Fuck!”

She grinned and rubbed her wet pussy onto his left thigh, letting him feel the swollen nub of her clit against his flexed muscle. He bit back a pathetic whimper, trapped in an agonizingly tight grip, pleasure from the pain of overstimulation, soothed by the slickness from the lube and his own cum. He grasped her throat and she choked his dick while riding his thigh.

Deliberate eye contact, not looking away.

His breathing shallow, tendons of his tattooed hand popping out, black ink on his forearms trembling from rigidity, not noticing because he was lost, captivated by mischievous eyes that commanded him with the thin whisper of her breath, deadly the way that she purred his name so sweetly, dancing between submission of her current position and domination from both of them knowing that she had complete control over him. Glistening wet pink tongue extending between open lips, dirty and lewd, tighter and faster, her eyes rolling back, lovely lashes fluttering, his name a strangled hiss.

The curtain call.

“Jungkook…”

He whimpered and came, shooting thick, sloppy strings of white up and all over her thigh and stomach, shuddering as he felt the squelch of her juices, her soft thighs clamping down on his hard one, her hips rolling, feeling her wet pussy flex against him, riding it out on him like he was just a toy, her toy, that was what he was, her favorite toy.

Ridiculous how she brought a whole new meaning to joystick.

Her thumb softly rubbed at the base of the throbbing head, dribbling cum spurting out, his hips flinching and the whines tearing through him, too sensitive but too stubborn to ask for it to stop, deep down not wanting her to stop, something carnal and arousing about how brutal it was, awed by how she knew the perfect balance of suffering that escalated all sensation into euphoria.

His hand was still around her neck, loosening as she leaned forward and captured his lips, passionate force and nipping teeth that teased his lower lip, his moans ringing in his ears, embarrassed that he was reduced to carnage from her fervor. His arms gave out, causing him to fall onto the bed, and her mouth chased him, devouring him with kisses, her fingers tangling in his hair, cum on their skin and now slippery between their bodies, kiss after kiss, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer, closer not close enough, wanting it, the intensity, the possessiveness, the uncontrollable craving, all three of those things mostly describing himself.

“I love you,” she breathed into his throat.

His hands slid down, kneading her ass, enjoying the feeling of being hunted.

“Fuck, I love you,” he panted, his thoughts a jumbled mess, his voice gravelly and hoarse from holding his breath, so drunk on the lust-induced high that he forgot to hide behind the walls of his pride. “I love you so fucking much, don’t you ever leave me, please, fuck, please, I’ll do anything, fucking anything, and don’t you dare forget it.”

She sucked on his lower lip, working it with her teeth and flicking her tongue against it, and he moaned, his thundering heartbeat roaring in his ears and his fingers sinking into her ass, malleable and soft, just like her thighs that were now squeezing the sides of his hips, gasping as she released him, her dark chuckle above his shaking exhale.

“Little bunny,” she murmured, infuriatingly calm and turning him on, stupid little nickname did that to him now and he didn’t even care. “You will always be mine, wandering back into your cage even if I leave the door open, begging me to hunt you until you can’t take any more.”

If Jungkook had his wits, he would have said, no, you’re wrong, but he didn’t. Instead, he told the truth and whimpered, needy and compliant, lifting his head so she would kiss him again, lost in the infinite duress that was the wolf whose sharp claws sank into his heart.

“What’s with him?”

“He’s sulking.”

Jeon Jungkook was sitting in the hot water with a soaked towel on his head, eyes closed and alone.

“He’s been sulking ever since we got here.”

It was true. Ever since the seven men entered the luxury hotel penthouse with the personal balcony pool and hot tub, Jeon Jungkook had been sulky. Six pairs of eyes watched him slowly boil himself into oblivion and did nothing to help. The rest of them were currently in cozy pajamas or fluffy robes, either having been out already or just gotten out.

“The pussy can’t be that good.”

“It probably is. You’ve seen the ass,” Park Jimin said sagely. “I sympathize.”

“You’ve never touched her ass,” Kim Taehyung snapped, smacking Jimin in the back of the head. Jimin scowled and was about to scold him, but Taehyung reached up again and gently rubbed the spot he had hit, making the shorter man bust into – what do the kids call it these days, ah, yes – uwus. “Although if her ass is any indication, yeah, probably,” the deep baritone voice added with a nonchalant shrug.

“Please stop talking about her ass like that,” Kim Seokjin grumbled as he looked between two books, looking ready to read neither of them.

“Oh, hyung, wouldn’t you know, but I guess you wouldn’t since you fell asl–”

Seokjin chucked both books at Jimin’s head and Taehyung snatched them out of the air, sighing as Jimin giggled like a maniac and hid behind him.

“I’m sure it was an honest mistake,” Jung Hoseok said soothingly, rubbing Seokjin’s broad, pajama-covered back.

The older man twitched and hissed under his breath. “Should have known the little shit wouldn’t keep his mouth shut.”

Said little shit roasting himself in the hot tub let out a big, long sigh.

“Man, now I feel bad that we didn’t invite her,” Kim Namjoon frowned. He was suddenly handed the books from Taehyung. The tall man turned them over in his hands, now distracted, looking greatly interested in both.

“We did invite her.”

Five faces turned to the freshly washed-up black-haired man at the entrance of the balcony. He was wrapped in a thick charcoal sweatshirt and sweats, his feet tucked into the complementary white hotel slippers, very fuzzy. He looked a bit like a fluffy, satisfied cat.

“At least I did,” Min Yoongi mused, brushing off imaginary dust on the hem of his sweatshirt. “I asked her if she wanted to come with, because I knew he would be like this.”

“A sad boi?”

Yoongi shrugged at Taehyung’s comment. “She said she had a League of Legends event to participate in and asked me to, quote, please whisk him away so I can avoid him sulking in the background as I’m playing, end quote.”

“So…” Hoseok blinked, looking back to Jungkook. “So that he can sulk in the background here?”

Yoongi rubbed his temple. “Like I said, I knew he would be like this. He’s rather attached.”

Jimin snorted. “More like horny and pussy-whipped.”

Yoongi ticked his head with a shrug. “Can you blame him though?”

All six looked at the sinking head bubbling down into the scalding water, leaving a blob of floating black hair and the folded towel, thinking of a specific ass in leggings. Except Seokjin. Seokjin had seen that ass full-on naked, so he was thinking about the naked ass. Good thing for his dignity that his blue pajama pants were loose.

“Guess not…”

“He’s sulking.”

“Is he?” you asked absentmindedly, wondering if you should take something other than Biscuit Delivery under the Inspiration tree, but this rune was so fucking busted that you were sure every champion except for the two junglers on each team had damn biscuits. So tempting to go down the Precision tree for your runes, but you were playing the shielding mage Karma, the Enlightened One, and you were supposed to support. You were going to.

Aggressively.

In your defense, that was how the lane was played.

“I think he’s trying to become a boiled dumpling with the amount of time he’s spent in the hot tub.”

“I love dumplings,” you mused, waiting for the game to load. “It’s only the third day.”

“What did you do to him?” the deep voice chuckled, slightly raspy and breathy from his satoori.

“Nothing, Yoongi.”

“Mhm.” You could tell he did not believe you in the slightest. “Bet he hasn’t texted or called you.”

“Nope.”

Your boyfriend was sulky and mad that you banished him to vacation with his friends to play League of Legends uninterrupted. How terrible for him. He refused to speak to you because of it. Therefore, you had to recruit said friends to keep tabs on him.

“Hah,” Yoongi clicked his tongue. “How childish.”

“Does he know you’re calling me?” you chuckled at the game started, buying your starting items and heading to bottom side of the river, following the pings of your jungler, spear-wielding warrior Xin Zhao, the Seneschal of Demacia. He was going to start at the monster camp named Red Brambleback. Being a good teammate, you were scouting for an invade along with your gun-and-trigger-happy ADC, Jinx, the Loose Cannon.

Your phone was propped up by your monitor. On speaker, but not video call.

“No, but I could let him know.”

“Don’t torture him.”

“I heard he likes that.”

“Not from you.”

“Are you sure?”

You almost glanced down at your phone, but again, it wasn’t a video call and you had to leash for your jungler. You smacked the jungle monster a couple times with your auto-attacks, both you and Jinx dealing damage so it died faster, speeding up Xin Zhao’s already quick clear. He wasn’t going to gank bot lane – there was no point in trying to attack the opponents you and Jinx were facing since they were highly mobile. A cocky adventurer and a damn cat. Ezreal and Yuumi, to be specific. You let Jinx handle the minions as you weaved about and threw in your Q ability to harass your opponents. Dodging their harassing abilities was easy.

Provided you had a mouse and a brain.

“Repeat that,” you replied, dropping your voice a dangerous octave.

“Hm?” was Yoongi’s casual, unfazed response. He was not going to repeat it. You could tell by his devious tone. “I think Jimin heard your voice coming from the speaker. Oh no.” He did not sound bothered.

You cocked an eyebrow even though he wasn’t there to see.

There you calmly double-killed the enemy bot lane.

Flash, W, Q, Jinx E to prevent Ezreal from escaping, killing him instantly and taking the poor defenseless kitty right after. Poor Yuumi. You didn’t even have to use Exhaust because they died so fast. You let Jinx have both. She needed the money more than you, even if you did most of the work.

Such is the life of the support.

Ugh, you wished you were playing your main role, but this Jinx had refused to trade roles.

“I’m sorry if Jungkook becomes annoyed at you.” You didn’t sound that sorry and you weren’t. Mostly because you figured Yoongi was fully capable of taking care of himself. He didn’t need protection. You cracked your neck. Pressed the B button, returning Karma to base, watching the minimap. Xin Zhao was ganking top lane. Got a kill. Nice. Game was starting off well.

Yoongi let out a sly snicker.

You didn’t have to see him to know he was smirking.

“You should join us on the last day, hm? He’ll have so many… emotions to release.”

“Oh no,” you calmly lamented, not the least bit bothered. “Don’t wind him up.”

He couldn’t see you but, judging by his tone, Yoongi knew that you were smirking now.

“Talk to you later,” the deep raspy voice purred.

“Enjoy your vacation.”

“I will.”

Jeon Jungkook was seething.

He did not want to be seething, but he was. He pretended not to be. Unlike Kim Seokjin who was, in the youngest’s eyes, a weak bitch, Min Yoongi was scary. Jungkook was not ready to fight Yoongi. No, his hyung was not ripped nor particularly violent in any way. He was just scary. Jungkook caught spooky vibes from Yoongi.

Not skeleton spooky, but like… ready-to-deliver-some-verbal-karma spooky.

Scary.

Jungkook would muster up the courage to become angry, looking up at his hyung ready to explode, and Yoongi would already be staring at him. As if he already knew what Jungkook was thinking, giving him this look, this you-really-think-you-can-mess-with-me look, and Jungkook realized that he could not, nope, he could not mess with Min Yoongi.

Also.

Yoongi remembered Jungkook’s likes and dislikes, preparing his favorite foods during the entire vacation in the hotel kitchen when they weren’t eating out.

It was hard to be mad when his belly was full.

Shit.

He heard from a certain chirpy chick that Yoongi had been on the phone with his girlfriend. It tortured Jungkook not knowing what it was about, but he was not speaking to her right now, trying to teach her a lesson, upset that her obsession with her video game seemed more important than being with… hah, okay, yeah, than fucking him.

Was that petty?

Yes.

Was it dumb?

Yes.

Was he being childishly stubborn?

Yes.

This was Jungkook’s brand and he was sticking to it even though he was aware that he shouldn’t.

“It’s an Irish Bomb. You have to drink it all at once.”

All seven of them were at a bar and Jungkook stayed close to Yoongi. Just in case. Maybe she would call again and he could catch his hyung in the act. Then Jungkook would pounce. Or something. Honestly, Jungkook had zero idea what he was going to do. He didn’t plan that far ahead. His brain scolded him to call her and ask, but Jungkook’s stubborn ass was going to do no such thing. His stupid pride was too strong so, instead of being reasonable, he stuck by Yoongi. The best way to attack the enemy was to be his friend, right?

Something like that.

Yoongi reached over and tucked Jungkook’s bangs behind his ear.

“Isn’t your hair long enough to tie up?” he chuckled. “You look like a poodle.”

Jungkook frowned and pulled the cold glass to him. “Who cares,” he grumbled. There was only one person that he wanted to look good for and he wasn’t talking to her right now. Hmph.

Maybe he was a dummy.

Jungkook raised the glass and began to down the whole thing.

He knew he was being a dummy.

Yoongi’s fingertips lingered against the curve of his ear.

Jungkook was reminded of hovering lips and the nick of teeth.

A hot shiver slid down his spine.

Yoongi’s hand was already gone and he was drinking his own Irish Bomb faster than Jungkook could finish his, and now his mind was racing – why had that touch reminded him of her tongue teasing his ear, why did it send his mind down a spiral of erotic memories that he desperately tried to wash away with the alcohol in his hand, confused as to why the feeling was so similar, it was all in his head, right, right, of course, yet now he couldn’t stop thinking, conversation happening in his head, I miss you so much, I don’t want to teach you a lesson anymore, I know I’m being silly and foolish, come and teach me a lesson.

Pleading.

I need the pain. Only you can deliver it.

Jungkook let out a gasping puff as he finished the drink, his head swimming with wishes that he wasn’t going to beg for, not yet, adamant pride still in his way, and he knew he wasn’t actually jealous, he wasn’t even mad, he just embarrassed that he missed that ensnaring smirk and her strangle-thorns buried into his heart. He even missed that dumb nickname that turned him on now.

Little bunny.

He missed the scent of her hair, their bodies side by side, falling asleep together.

I love you.

He never said it enough, but he did, mouthing it against her skin, not letting her hear, but she must know, she had to know, it was impossible for her to not know.

“What do you think?”

Jungkook started, jerking his head to Yoongi’s raised eyebrows.

“Ah… it’s good. Better than I thought it would be.”

Yoongi half-smiled.

“Someone on your mind?”

He felt his ears burn.

“Uh, no. What should we try next?” he asked quickly, and Jungkook only realized later that Yoongi had asked someone and not something, wasn’t that weird, huh, but at that point it was many drinks down and too deep into the night, Jungkook was too sleepy to think about it anymore.

He forgot all about it when he woke up the next day.

Hot.

Wet.

Shivers.

Tongue on the curve of his ear. A single, nimble swipe leaving a line of sensitivity and heat radiating through his body, chills of fire that left him gasping, trying to move his hands, but they were pinned behind him, jammed between the small of his back and her stomach, her hands on his forearms and her nails sinking into his skin. He thought about trying to break out, but he couldn’t, what if he hurt her wrists or something? Besides, it felt too good, kisses at the base of his ear and her tongue flicking his earrings, creating a faint musical sound along with the soft sigh of her breath, and he remembered her asking, how many more piercings are you gonna get, and he remembered saying, hmph, how much pain you want me to be in?

Her lips brushed against his ear, murmuring his name.

“Jungkook…”

His blood shimmered in his veins, violent adrenaline.

Just like that time back then, her voice in his ear, murmuring his name and whispering.

Challenging.

“How much pain can you take?”

Thus, Jeon Jungkook showed up at her doorstep with an eyebrow piercing, lip piercing, and six new lobe piercings on his right ear.

“Enough?” he had scowled, demanding approval.

Now, she let go of his arms. He kept them behind his back, gasping as her naked breasts came into contact with his shoulder blades, her hard nipples rubbing against his hot skin, her thighs flush against the sides of his hips, delicious press of softness to hardness. Her hands appeared. Fingers curved inward, nails descending, and the air was trapped in his lungs as he watched and felt her nails rake across his chest, blooming pink lines of carnage on his tan skin, the pain drawing out a gasp.

She said the same thing now that she said back then.

“I love knowing that you can take so much pain, little bunny,” she whispered into his ear.

It wasn’t… it wasn’t his thing or anything.

It was their thing, and he was into it because he was into her, he wouldn’t be like this with anyone else, he wouldn’t put up with it if it was anyone else, couldn’t, she put up with him, so he was being accommodating, he was only addicted to it because she made it feel so good, fuck, it always felt so fucking good, felt so good when she clawed up his flexed pecs to his tense shoulders and she nudged his arms, indicating that he could free them now, and only then did he untangle them and reach back and sink his fingers into her ass, kneading the plump softness with a strangled moan as her tongue toyed with the side of his neck and she forcefully gripped his chin, pushing it to the side to gain more access to that sensitive skin, his roaring pulse torrential underneath snapping teeth.

She had him by the throat and she didn’t need her hand around it.

Just her tongue painting desire all over his skin.

Yes, this.

She curved her body around him, tongue and lips dancing down, kissing the lines of burning fire she had created, each one scalding him, ecstasy like wildfire rampaging within him, boiling down to his core, this was theirs, his hands following, forcefully adjusting her so she was in front of him, on top of him, kisses above his racing heart, gripping her thighs and squeezing them, moaning at the roundness and the visual, her amused chuckle and arrogant smirk mocking him, this was their thing.

Jungkook liked being the little bunny to the big bad wolf.

There, he said it.

In his head, not out loud.

She licked the edge of her lips, grinning.

He sucked in a breath, his hips rolling onto the palm that suddenly squeezed his clothed erection, slow and soft touch promising to mess him up.

“My little bunny needs to be taken care of by the big bad wolf, doesn’t he?”

“S… Shut up.”

She was about to remove her hand, but he grabbed it and pressed it back down.

“If you’re gonna talk,” he growled, cutting it short as she rubbed his hard length through his underwear, biting back his whimper. When he spoke again, he could no longer hide the plea in his tone. “I-If you’re gonna talk so much, u-use your mouth.”

Her plush lips parted. Tongue sliding out, pink and glistening and so fucking hot.

“Oh yeah?” she taunted.

Her body slid down, down, between his legs.

And then he woke up.

Jungkook woke up with your lips wrapped around his morning wood.

You had attempted to wake him to announce your arrival, but he was difficult to wake up. Seemed a bit crabby. That didn’t surprise you. He shoved your hand to his dick, which also didn’t surprise you, mumbling to use your mouth, in that same grumbly tone that was him attempting to be harsh. Instead, it came out needy. Awake or asleep, your younger boyfriend was always needy. You liked that about him though. Maybe a bit too much.

Nah.

You removed his boxer briefs and tossed them aside.

Gripped his thighs and swallowed his hard cock.

Jungkook’s hips jerked and thrust up into your throat, suffocating your breath, lewdly moaning to the ceiling while his hands flew up and clutched the hotel pillows. His eyes cracked open and then snapped open in disbelief upon seeing your lips pressed against the base of his dick.

“N-Noona?!”

You tightened your throat and lapped at his balls with the tip of your tongue, unable to speak or even breathe.

None of that stopped you from cocking an eyebrow at him.

“How a-are you – o-oh, shit…!”

You pulled back and slammed back down, as fast and as hard as you could, burying him into your throat over and over again, so deep that you only had partial seconds to breathe, pressing your tongue from the top of his balls, up the underside of the length, all the way to the base of the head, rubbing the slit, and you could tell it was too much sensation for Jungkook, his eyes rolling back and uncontrollably groaning, longing and need, cutting himself off when he abruptly realized that he was still in the shared penthouse of the swanky hotel that he and his friends had booked.

He slapped his hands over his mouth, dark brown eyes wide, long black hair sticking up every which way, adorable bedhead, and you could tell he was struggling, stuck between telling you to stop in case anyone heard him, but it was too late, he was too far gone, whining behind his shaking palms as you pinned his hips down, tilting as you descended so the engorged head rubbed against the roof of your mouth, wet, palpable friction.

You didn’t bother to hide the amusement in your eyes as Jungkook’s glazed over, succumbing to the pleasure. Heavy pants leaking through his closed fingers, his naked chest shaking with effort, staring down at you. You were still clothed, kneeling between his legs and your ass up in the air.

Black skintight leggings ruining his life.

His grip over his own mouth was loosening.

He moaned deep in his throat. You lifted one hand. Continued to blow him, your tongue swirling around the length, sliding him into the back of your throat. You walked two fingers across his abs and then jerked your thumb in the general direction of the door.

Jungkook dropped his hands, shuddering whisper, his silvery voice hoarse from sleep.

“I don’t care, don’t care, p-please…”

You jammed him all the way down and scooped up his balls to your tongue with your free hand, rubbing the head against the top of your throat, powerfully pulsing the muscles around it. He sputtered, tumbling into rambles, talking too fast in his rough voice, dragging his hands through his hair, pulling at it to add stinging pain to amplify the brutal pleasure your mouth was giving him.

“N-No, keep going, please, I missed you, I’m sorry, I got mad, it was s-stupid, I’m stupid, I want you all the time and, I know, it’s distracting, I know you paid for the pass to play the event and all you did was tell me to go on vacation with my friends, I s-shouldn’t be mad, I just miss you, I just want you, please, noona, don’t stop, please…”

He pressed his hands to his cheeks, covering his embarrassment with chunks of black hair, his eyes only partially visible, trembling tone, ears red, pink flaring over his cheekbones, dropping his tone to a imploring whisper, the mole underneath his lower lip quivering, desperate.

“Please… please let your little bunny c-cum…”

You hadn’t expected an apology so soon. Perhaps he felt guilty and it had been on his mind for a while now. You were going to slow down, maybe edge him a little, but only to talk. You hadn’t even said hello yet, but Jungkook was pleading with you, appealing to his queen, ah, he was so good at it now, that stubborn pride crumbling down, glassy eyes so vulnerable. Starving to be devoured, and, well.

You didn’t want to stop anyway.

You grinned around his cock and audibly slurped up the length, blanketing the twitching head with your tongue and rubbing it all over before swallowing him again.

“Fuuuuuuuck…”

You gave it to him the way he liked, suffocating, deep, not too fast, building it and building it, compounding pleasure, layering the sensations. Kneading his hips, pricking his skin with your nails. Lips soft. Mouth tight. Tongue moving at a slightly different pace, massaging the underside to push it up against the roof of your mouth, your eyes on his face, teasing him until he was forced to look away, throwing his head back and gasping, too good so he closed his eyes to feel more, his hands curling to fists, bunching up the white sheets under him. Black tattoos on tan skin, rippling muscle, clenched jaw and wanton moans leaking from gritted teeth, warning you he was close, his hips threatening to rise.

You held him down, not letting him get away.

His jaw unclenched and Jungkook gasped, holding his breath, arching his back, and there was no mistaking it as the groan dragged unwillingly out of his chest, obvious that he wished to last longer, but it was too late, he was already there, erotic high so strong that his right hand flew up and smacked into the headboard, so hard that the wood violently rattled against the wall.

“Fuck!”

He shot into your throat and you swallowed right away, wrapping your lips around his jerking length, his orgasm coating the back of your tongue, strong and salty and thick, delicious, and you half-wondered if he hadn’t jacked off all this time, maybe, maybe not, but he tasted good, so good you held some in your mouth and painted his cum onto his shivering cock to lick it off, listening to his small whines and gasps, trying to cover them up the best he could, his shoulders flinching as your tongue softly toyed with the sensitive head, keeping him inside your mouth, playing around, caressing his sides.

Lazily looking up at him.

Slurping. Wet, lewd, and loud.

Jungkook was panting, his black hair all over his face, messy and slightly sweaty.

“C-Come up here and kiss me,” he demanded.

You hummed, lapping at the slit with the tip of your tongue, cleaning him off.

“I’d rather not. You have morning breath.”

Only then did Jungkook seem to remember that he was not, in fact, in your apartment.

“I can’t go out there.”

“Why not? I told you they went to pick up breakfast. They weren’t here.”

“So what? They’re going to be back at the end of this shower.”

“We don’t have to do anything.”

His fingers closed in around her hips and dragged him to her, pressing his nose into her wet hair, rolling his crotch into the juicy softness, addicted to it. Already hard. How could he not be, seeing the water dripping down gleaming skin, highlighting that perfect curve?

“I have to,” he breathed, hot and heavy against her ear.

Pressed her chest into the wall, the water glossing over them, and her hips swayed, reaching between them, lining his stiff length in between her ass cheeks, delicious wet friction, his hands holding onto her ass to keep it tight but letting her do all the moving, her body below him commanding his.

That was how Jungkook liked it.

He pressed his chest against her back, putting his weight on her, slow, even thrusts, his lips against her ear, unaware of his soft moans and wispy gasps, his eyes closing, yes, it felt that good, fuck, please don’t make me leave you again, I can’t take it, I hate not being near you, and she chuckled, her palms pressed into the shower wall, you’re a naughty distraction, no, he wasn’t, I’m not, I need you.

Jungkook liked being told what to do.

Unless the order was, you can’t see me for a week.

Then he hated it.

“Punish me,” he mumbled.

The water tumbled down, down. His lips brushed against the curve of her ear. It was his breath that was shivering, anticipation eating at his sanity, listening to her calm exhale, knowing she was smiling under his larger frame towering over her. He was the king in this kingdom, but this kingdom belonged to his queen. He had no power here.

He never did, and that was how Jungkook liked it.

“Punish me, please.”

He ran his fingertips over her wet skin, pouring his love in his touch.

“I love it when you punish me.”

He rarely said these kinds of things. Only quietly, when they were alone, when he was sure she could hear him, when he wanted it more than he wanted to hold onto his silly, stubborn, stupid pride. It was all for show, anyway.

He knew it, she knew it, fuck, his friends probably knew it too.

Her voice was smooth, sultry, sensual. “Back up a little for me.”

He obeyed.

She bent down more, and he backed up more, confused, unsure what to do, knowing they always used condoms for birth control, so then–

Jungkook choked as she spread her ass with one hand and guided his cock. Pushed back, and he locked his legs, standing rigidly because that was the only thing he could do, suddenly enveloped by mind-numbing tightness and then pillowy softness wrapped all around him, sucking him into her ass.

Oh, God.

He had thought about it, of course, he did, who didn’t at least wonder, but he figured, no, it wasn’t going to happen, and, in any case, he was a bit of a clean freak, at least when it came to hygiene, he didn’t think he could want it due to the very nature of the act, he had never thought about it in the shower and he could barely think about it now, grasping her hips for dear life, hardly able to comprehend that he was doing anal.

Right now.

Perfect round ass flush against his crotch, her palms against the shower wall, bent down to get that angle, lowering a little more and, fuck, that was it, that was the position, not too high and not too low, perfect constriction at the base of his cock, so tight but so soft, not quite as much stimulation as the pussy, not as rigid as her hand, and not commanded by the multiplicative skill of her mouth, this was something else, a whole new sensation, ring of tightness right at the entrance and then.

She moved.

She rocked her hips forward and smacked her ass back onto him.

“Oh, fuck!”

Jungkook had forgotten that he should probably move, wait, should she be stretched out, he didn’t know, he had never, oh my God, she thrust his length into her at a measured pace, building it up, harder and faster, water dripping down legs, back, ass, swirls of wet hair swept over one shoulder, fucking him as if he was merely her personal sex toy, rough pace, soft hips in his hands, and who was moaning so loudly and so pathetically, not him, right, no, and then he heard her chuckle, raspy with exertion.

The moaning one was him.

Damnnit.

“Don’t tell me you’re all bark and no bite. Come on, Jungkook, fuck me.”

He clenched his jaw to silence his whines and thrust forward, gasping for air. It was too much, it was a little wrong, it was too good, it was driving him just a bit insane and then some. His fingers sinking into her ass, his hard thighs slapping into her soft ones, his balls smacking her slick pussy, oh wow, he could feel it, feel her slippery cum spreading all over and she threw her head back in a sharp hiss, ah, Jungkook, yes, I’m going to cum, and his eyes widened, the powerful massaging pulses enveloping his rock-hard length, familiar but different, still so soft. The dirty squelch of her orgasm, fully audible and nearly as loud as their slapping hips, drenching his inner thighs along with the water.

“Fuck, that’s so sexy…” he managed to gasp out. “Can feel you cum on me, fuck…”

And suddenly he needed it again, just one more, harder, holding onto her hips and slamming his crotch into her, asking between pants, are you okay, tell me, please, and she growled back at him, sending hot shivers all over his skin with her forceful tone.

“Give it to me, Jungkook, want you to creampie my ass.”

Who needed sanity anyway?

Sanity was overrated.

“You’re so tight, a-ah… I can’t, please cum, I want to feel it again, please, n-noona…”

Harder, faster, together, her pushing back and him pushing in, so deep that he forgot the bathroom echoed his cries, needy and lustful and helpless with desire, her name mixed with his pleas, no one else, he wanted no one else and if that made him crazy, so be it, he loved it, he loved everything she did to him and the claws she had buried into his heart, just a helpless little bunny in the jaws of the big bad wolf, hunted again and again, wandering back into his cage to be bound by this passion over and over again, raising his hand and spanking her ass sharply, once, twice, fucking loud, as loud as the slapping of their hips, and there was nothing better than her breathy moan and lovely purr, her hands curling into fists against the white tiles of the shower wall.

“Gonna cum, Jungkook, mmm, fuck!”

She bucked her ass back into him.

Squirted down his inner thigh with a splattering squelch, all the way to his knee.

Jungkook came in an instant.

Everything crashing down, shooting his load deep inside, his cock twitching and shuddering, so strong his shoulders and spine shook, a lustful, shameless groan exploding out of his chest, immediately letting go of her ass and raking his nails down her back, scratching it up because the euphoric high was so, so intense, uncaged and uncontrollable, and she squeezed him approvingly, making his eyes roll back into his head, throwing his wet hair back, arc of black now out of his vision, pleasure bolting up his core and seizing his heart.

Infinite duress in the claws of her passion.

He basked in it, hot steam and agonizing afterglow, and then he reached down, collecting her in his arms, yanking her up, furiously kissing the tops of her shoulders, her fingers caressing his forearms. He could feel it, her love in her touch.

The queen of this kingdom, all his.

“Well.”

“He’s not sulking.”

Six pairs of eyes watched the two heads leaning against each other. Both had matching soaked, folded white towels on top of their heads.

“Now I’m sure that a juicy ass can solve anyone’s problems.” A small hand in a graceful arc, as if he was indicating the definition of a problem. “Exhibit A. Jeon Jungkook.”

A single dark brown eye opened, glaring at Park Jimin.

Then, without warning, a tattooed arm swept a small tsunami of hot water right into Jimin’s face.

“Gah!”

Unlike most times, Kim Taehyung could not block water. He was not Aquaman, nor did he try to be, and he immediately swam away from Jimin as the shorter man pretended to drown.

Dramatically, of course.

“Why are you guys in the hot tub anyway?” Jeon Jungkook hissed. “Go away.”

Kim Seokjin scoffed. “If we leave, you two are going to do indecent things.”

“That wouldn’t be very nice for the hotel workers,” Kim Namjoon scolded, shaking his head.

“What? I thought we were watching?” Jimin complained, immediately forgetting that he was supposed to be pretending to drown. “Wasn’t that what he agreed on?”

“Nobody agreed to shit,” Jungkook spat, looking ready to forcibly hold Jimin’s head under water. Jung Hoseok wagged his finger at the youngest and swam in front of the giggly troublemaker protectively.

“Never know. You might like it,” a raspy voice hummed.

Jungkook whipped his head to the closed eyes of Min Yoongi. Only his head stuck out of the steamy water. There was a towel on top of his black hair, making him look like a freshly boiled dumpling. Yoongi opened one eye pensively. Unbothered as usual.

“It’s important to try new things. That’s how you grow.”

Jungkook seemed hesitant to drown Yoongi and whipped his head to you, his big brown eyes desperately asking you to refute his hyung’s words. Do something! Instead, you palmed his already hard dick under the bubbling hot water, right through his swim trunks.

He froze up, sputtering.

“Yoongi’s right, Jungkook,” you mused thoughtfully. “You can’t expand your horizons by doing the same thing again and again. Aren’t you always looking to improve?”

Jungkook turned beet red and not because of the hot water.

“NO!” Seokjin shrieked.

“YES!” Jimin shouted.

Everyone started yelling.

Except you and Yoongi, who simply sat there with towels on your heads, and Jungkook, who slowly sank under the water and pretended he was Aquaman, despite everyone knowing that he would probably make a better Spiderman with the way he tended to perch on chairs, but that was a story for another time.

part v

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

369 notes · View notes

submissivekillers · 3 years

Text

kinktober 2021, day 4 - knifeplay

prompt: spanking // role reversal // knifeplay

character: ji-woon hak/the trickster

trigger warning: knifeplay, bloodplay, slapping, lip/mouth injury, wound agitation?? ji-woon is not a nice man. been meaning to write smth about this bastard for a while so this is kind of a few different plot bunnies combined oops

of all the tortures you've experienced in the entity's realm, nothing compares to this.

your breathing stutters, a muted whine escaping you as the knife makes another pass over the soft, trembling flesh of your inner thigh. beads of blood map lazy trails down your leg, cousins of the sluggishly bleeding cuts that pattern your chest. those had been made carelessly, without rhyme or reason; the current desecration of your skin is a much more deliberate process, every delicate flick of the blade placed with purpose.

but the pain isn't the worst part - oh, far from it. the worst part is how much you like it; how the breathless whimpers that fall from your lips are sparked by pleasure, not discomfort, how your clit tingles with every new wound etched into your skin. and how obvious your desire must be to the man who stands between your sprawled-wide thighs, the fabric of your underwear soaked through and clinging to the contours of your pussy as you clench around nothing.

you shudder limply as he finishes carving himself into you, laying his knife aside and inspecting the oozing wounds with a critical eye. the edge of his thumb grazes the gashes as he carefully brushes away the welling blood and you sigh through your nose, lashes fluttering as your ruined skin throbs.

dizzy with agony and ecstasy, you don't recognize the danger in your tormenter's displeased grunt until it's too late.

"jagiyaaa," ji-woon singsongs at you, a soft, taunting hum. "you're being too quiet."

the whistle of air is your only warning before he lands a harsh slap against your thigh, a resounding smack echoing through the cool air as his palm makes contact with your open wounds. the dull burn of discomfort blossoms into fresh pain, agony rushing through you, setting your nerves alight; you wail his name helplessly, the sound of your voice ragged and cracking as it rips from your raw throat. your cunt aches, clenching desperately around nothing.

"there we go, much better!" "ji-woon trills, petting your hair in a parody of comfort. he leans in, licks away tears you didn't realize you were shedding. blood-slick fingers find your clit with delicate precision, caressing the swollen flesh until desperate moans spill from your cracked lips, your eyes rolling in your skull. "you should be grateful, you know? people pay good money for my signature, and all i ask from you is to hear your voice."

"s-sorry," you slur, knees clenching around his ribcage involuntarily as you writhe under the onslaught of his touch. "sorry, ji-woon, i-i'm sorry—"

he lets you babble at him for a little while longer, expression akin to someone watching their pet pull a particularly amusing trick, then mercifully stops his toying with your clit. you barely have time to enjoy the sudden dearth of stimulation before the knife's back in his hand, bloodied edge resting gently against the plush of your lower lip. "aw, don't worry so much, jagiya," he coos. "i know it must be overwhelming, being this close to a star like me. just don't hold back anymore, okay?"

you incline your head as much as you dare, a shaky whimper slipping from your throat. ji-woon watches your trembling lips with flat, predatory eyes, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "lick."

shivering, you nonetheless obey the command without question, tentatively running your tongue up the flat of the blade. you taste the copper of your blood, heavy and cloying, and beneath it cool, sterile iron. it's oddly intoxicating, and your hazy state of mind isn't helped in the slightest by the fascinated way he watches you, pressing closer until you can feel the hard line of his cock through your underwear.

you know the cut is coming.

you whine at the feeling of the knife against your lower lip, screwing your eyes shut as the taste of fresh blood fills your mouth. ji-woon makes a hungry sound, stabbing the knife into the wall perilously close to your temple and dragging you into a messy kiss, eagerly sucking your split lip. his sharp teeth worry the torn flesh, lapping at your bloody mouth with an obsessive fervor; drool and gore trickle down your chin, smearing over your face as his vice grip on your jaw keeps you pliant, bent to his will. when he breaks away the strand of saliva that connects your mouths is a rich crimson, and his aureate eyes shine maniacally.

"let's keep the show going, jagiya," he husks, tearing away your panties with one sharp yank. "if you're good, i'll give you another autograph to remember me by."

#kinktober 2021 #trickster x reader #ji woon hak x reader #dbd imagines #slasher imagines #slasher x reader #nsft #tw knifeplay #tw blood #tw slapping #i am not immune 2 sexe kpop slasher #took a lot longer 2 finish this one than i wanted to but none of the day 5 prompts called to me anyway so w/e #alSO jagiya = honey or darling. i just feel like hed be in2 condescending petnames lol

291 notes · View notes

lena-in-a-red-dress · 3 years

Text

Alt S5b Plot Bunny, Pt 6

By the time the others return from the desert to report an absolute bust, Lena is secured in the infirmary and Kara has hastily wrapped her injuries in messy piles of gauze.

Alex takes one look and immediately shifts into medic mode. "What happened?"

"Lena, she-- she tried to kill me," Kara murmurs. Her gaze shifts to her friend, still unconscious where she's strapped to a gurney. Despite what happened, all she feels in concern.

"She almost succeeded," Alex tells her, prodding the stab wound in her side. Kara groans. "Good news is, you're already starting to heal."

She sets Kara on a stool and wheels over a sunlamp. When she clicks it on, Kara sags under the relief it provides.

"It wasn't her fault," Kara tells Alex. Alex shoots her a look, but Kara insists. "It wasn't! She-- she tried to warn me. And then--"

"You're right," J'onn says, pressing two fingers to his temple. "Her mind has been corrupted."

"How?" Alex asks.

Kara scans Lena with her xray vision, and her blood runs cold when she locates two inorganic devices: one in her neck, the other at the base of her brain stem.

"Brainy--"

Kara describes the devices to the best of her ability. Brainy's eyes alight with understanding.

"It would seem Lex has covered all his bases," Brainy explains. "The first appears to be a small capacitor, capable of delivering an electric current. The other is an inhibitor of some kind, grafted onto her central nervous system. There would be no way for Lena to fight whatever mandate Lex installed."

"Can we remove them?" Nia asks.

Brainy considers that for a moment. "The first would be quite simple to remove. However the inhibitor is a different story. Even assuming Lex has not rigged the device with a failsafe, attempting to remove it could render Miss Luthor comatose, or dead."

Kara releases a shaky breath. "Then what can we do?"

"If we could deactivate the device, I could reverse whatever mandate Lex installed," J'onn offers. "Her mind would be her own again."

"How do we deactivate it if we can't remove it?"

Brainy perks up. "An EMP could render the device inert. There is a chance the device could be reactivated, but doing so would require physical adjustment."

"And I'm not going to let Lex get anywhere close to her again," Kara declares.

J'onn nods. He looks to Brainy. "How soon can you have a device ready to deliver the EMP."

"A few hours at most. I shall begin immediately."

Brainy goes off, and Kara turns to Alex. "Can we keep Lena sedated until it's ready?"

Alex eyes her. "You sure?"

Swallowing, Kara nods. Though partially driven to spare Lena the discovery of being strapped to the bed, more fervent is the need to never see the hate in Lena's eyes again.

"Yeah."

Alex nods. "Okay."

---

The hours pass slowly. Kara spends them under the sunlamp, refusing to leave Lena's side. Alex uses the time to fish the capacitor from Lena's shoulder, and Kara fights the urge to vomit when the small device clinks to the bottom of a sterile basin.

Seeing her distress, Alex offers her a steadying smile. "She's going to be okay."

Kara gazes at Lena, unable to banish the apprehension coiling in her gut. "Yeah."

When Brainy finally returns, they clear the infirmary of anything electrical. At Kara's nod, Brainy activates the device. The wait as it beeps once, twice, three times, then falls silent.

Awkwardly, they wait for something to happen, but nothing does.

"Brainy?"

"The EMP has been delivered."

Lena doesn't stir. Kara looks at her sister in concern. "Alex..."

"The sedatives should wear off any minute."

The wait in anxious silence until Lena finally begins to stir. Kara steps forward, taking Lena's hand in hers. "Lena?"

Lena's eyes open, rolling slightly before squinting against the overhead lights. She groans, then pries her eyes open to look at Kara.

"Kara..."

Lena breathes her name, smiling at the sight of her, her features soft and relieved. Kara studies her, and feels her heart fall.

Alex moves to unfasten Lena's other hand.

"It didn't work," Kara snaps, freezing Alex in place.

"The EMP was delivered--"

Kara pegs him with a sharp glare. "It didn't work!"

On the bed, Lena's grin deepens to something menacing, and a giggle pours out of her. Her grip on Kara's hand tightens, fingernails digging into Kara's skin like claws until Kara jerkily pries herself free.

"Nice try, Supergirl," Lena taunts. "But you can't change the truth: you're a menace--"

Alex silences her with a sharp jab of a syringe, administering another dose of sedative. In moments Lena is out like a light.

Thrusting the sunlamp away from her, Kara stalks to the side of the room, then paced to the other in furious agitation.

"Why didn't it work?"

Brainy thinks for a long moment. "It's possible the device is in fact biomechanic in nature. The nervous system is effectively one large conductor, carrying electrical impulses from the brain to the rest of the body--"

"The device could be powering itself using those impulses," Alex jumps in, catching on quickly.

Brainy nods. "It would be impossible to power it down completely so long as though impulses are present."

"So there's no way to save her?" Kara asks.

Brainy tilts his head, catching Alex's gaze. "There is a way..."

"But it would be risky," Alex finishes.

Kara stops pacing and looks at her. "How risky?"

"If we're right, and the device is powered in part by Lena's own electrical impulses, then we would have to suppress those impulses long enough for the device to run out of juice, then hit it with the EMP."

"And by suppress her electrical impulses, you mean--"

"All electrical impulses. Zero brain activity."

Kara's mouth goes dry. "You mean kill her."

"Only temporarily," Brainy points out. "As soon as the EMP is delivered, we would be able to revive her, and she will be herself again."

Sensing Kara's distress, J'onn places a hand on her shoulder. "It's risky, but it may be Lena's best chance."

Kara takes a deep breath, her mind racing. Losing Lena this way terrifies her, but in her heart she knows the decision Lena would make if she could. She wouldn't want to live like this-- she wouldn't want to be Lex's puppet.

She nods.

"Let's do it."

----

It takes almost an hour to prepare. Alex preps the drugs she'll need to slow Lena's heart, and the drugs she'll need to restart it. She collects a crash cart as well, just in case. In lieu of more advanced technology, which they don't have in the tower, J'onn will monitor Lena's brain waves to determine when it's safe to administer the EMP.

Kara can only watch it all with a lump in her throat, praying to Rao that she hasn't made the wrong decision.

"Ready?" Alex finally asks.

Kara nods. She steps up to Lena's bedside, taking Lena's hand in both of hers. She watches as Alex administers the first syringe, listening as Lena's heartbeat begins to slow. She prays silently as the thumps comes farther and fewer between, then cease entirely. Looking at J'onn, she waits with tears in her eyes as the seconds tick by.

"J'onn..."

"Not yet..."

Dread pours through Kara, filling her swiftly and completely. She shakes her head. "It's been too long. Alex..."

"Kara, wait--"

"Alex!"

"Now!" J'onn shouts. Brainy activates his device. The thing beeps slowly-- once, twice, three times.

Then

"The EMP has been delivered."

Alex surges into action. With sure, swift movements she uncaps the second syringe and plunges it into Lena's chest. Without waiting, she vaults onto the gurney, straddling Lena to begin delivering chest compressions.

"Alex..."

"We just have to keep her blood moving until the drugs kick in," Alex pants. Counting softly, she shoots a look to Nia. "Nia, rescue breaths, now."

Nia obeys without hesitation. Kara's tears spill over as she watches them work on Lena, unable to do anything more than stand idly by. As the minutes pass, Kara feels her hope dwindle.

"Brainy, the crash cart," Alex barks finally. She climbs off the stretcher while Nia breathes air into Lena's lungs. Brainy wheels the crash cart closer.

"Kara, let go."

"Alex--"

"Let go!"

Kara steps back, and Alex presses the paddles against Lena's torso. "Clear!"

Lena's body spasms as the current courses through her, only to fall limp when it stops. Alex presses two fingers to Lena's neck, seaeching for a pulse. Delivering another round of compressions, she then waits for Nia to perform the rescue breathing before shocking Lena again.

"Clear!"

Lena spasms again, and Kara has to turn away, covering her sobs with one hand. For a long moment, there's nothing but heavy silence before Alex calls out.

"I've got a pulse!"

#spheercorp #no jack in this one #but lots of supercorp feels if you wanna see it that way #again canonical levels of supercorp #which means its there if you want it to be #lol #this thing just keeps getting better and better #love it #this is my home now

46 notes · View notes

pinepickled-om · 3 years

Text

Hello Obey Me fandom!

I'm going to be drawing two pieces of Arbor for the upcoming chapter of Sunshine on Gold, but I need help choosing outfits! Comment 1, 2, 3, or 4 to put in your vote! There will also be thirsty ones below the cut, which you can input a seperate vote for!

If it helps you vote, Arbor's main love interests are Mammon, Diavolo, Solomon, and Michael!

The first outfit:

The second outfit:

The third outfit:

The fourth outfit:

1st nsfw outfit:

2nd nsfw outfit: (which will have the skirt pulled up~)

3rd outfit: (could also be reverse bunny)

4th outfit:

Reblogs and votes are much appreciated <3 <3 <3

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me michael #obey me mammon #obey me diavolo #obey me solomon #obey me mc #obey me art

55 notes · View notes

hoodoo12 · 2 years

Text

The Ties That Bind (And How to Follow Them) 20/28

@turtlepated @mel-time @werwulfy @bunnys-beetlejuice-blog @infptarius @strange-n-unbluusual @rainingpaint @fireflower1015 @genderless-cryptid @monsterlovinghours @sweetcat-666 @heresathreebee @go-whovian-universe

SFW. Continued struggles, a threat of an Outer God, and a proposal.

His scramble to get to Pate and free her kicked into overdrive as his own tentacle, he saw and felt in horror, was absorbed by the one reaching from the void. Where the beast’s appendage made contact with his, his was shorn off, becoming part of the mass of the first. A reversal of birth; a return to his Father.

Beetlejuice bellowed, a wordless noise that was half rage and half fear. He didn’t care what he looked like to these cultists, whether an enraged berserker or a pansy pissing his pants. He had to get out. He had to get Pate out.

Risking movement that may give away his position to the shoggoth entering this plane, Beej stepped sideways, still pushing against the barrier that held him till he got to the patched spot. There he focused all his attention, clawing to try and break the seal, wishing for a goddamn breeze to blow this fucking chalk away, breaking his nails and bruising his knees, elbows, and shoulders trying to bull his way through.

All the while those endless tentacles continued exploring the space and seeking. A sound began filling the room; a thin monotonous fluting punctuated by a deep drumming. His lips pulled back in a rictus snarl, Beetlejuice glanced behind himself, across the circle to see various cultists supplicating themselves or frozen in terror. Some, in their foolishness or confidence that they could handle looking on something so unearthly, had blood dripping from their eyes and noses. Morena stood with her arms raised in welcome, a smile of triumphant lunacy on her face. Most of the woman’s body blocked Pate, but he shouted, “Don’t look at it, baby--close your eyes and don’t look!”

He couldn’t see if she obeyed him. His gaze, although drawn to the void like it was a vacuum, skipped to his brother, still looking ashen--well, moreso; it was much less a deliberate aesthetic now--and weak near the wall. “Rijl Jauzah al Yusrā,” he whispered. Rigel hadn’t responded to him shouting, but his full name might catch his attention.

Rigel picked up his head, his eyes dark sunken holes.

Another tentacle found one of his, and tore it away, leaving an ache that settled into his bones. Even as Beetlejuice went to a knee while continuing to claw at the barrier, he whispered in a steady, focused voice, “I swear to fucking . . . I don’t even know what I’m swearing to, but I swear that if you’re here just to watch this go down I will join my Father and hunt you and throw you right into the amorphous blight at the center of all infinity and you will be one of the flopping horde of mindless dancers surrounding The Blind Idiot God. You hear me, Rigel?

“Now help Pate you fucking prick.”

⁂

As hollow as he felt, Rigel looked over at his name. It still didn’t hold the same power that his elder brother’s did, but here surrounded by chaotic, loose magic, it gave him a boost. When he took in the bedlam in the open space caused by the shoggoth coming through, when he heard the statement that Beetlejuice said as clearly as if he were a step away and not frantically attempting to free himself from a trap designed to sacrifice him, the order to help Pate, more than the threat of spending eternity in Azathoth’s court, spurred him. He was of no interest to the shoggoth, nor of the witch, but that didn’t mean he should be ignored. Drawing himself to his full height, letting loose the reins that held him in a more human vistage, Rigel strode towards the circle of cultists, knocking the mirrors they’d set so carefully into place out of his way.

⁂

This was working! She’d never doubted; her dedication, her sacrifices, her sheer power--it was all coming to fruition, The years of pain and single-minded devotion to the plan were worth the triumph of this first step. The rest would be easier. Once the shoggoth was here, trapped in the circle--it really was a dumb beast; asborbing Beetlejuice only transferred the restrictions the specter had to it--she could then summon the Elder Things to take back their creation, and after them, Hastur the Unspeakable would come to her. It wouldn’t be able to resist an offering such as one of its oppressors, and then she would prostrate herself before the King in Yellow and be lifted up to its side. The amorphous tentacles entering held her gaze. They were beautiful. The sounds of a mad flute split the air and she felt like dancing. Around her moans from her congregation made Morena smile. Unlike them, no blood hemorrhaged from her. She had taken the proper precautions and her strength allowed her to look upon the unearthly with no frail side effects. Beetlejuice’s warning to his lover made her laugh, and it crossed her mind to force Pate to look into to abyss, if only to weaken her captive further and hurry this along. There’d be less of a show if she did that, however, and who truly knew the minds of shoggoths; maybe an angry struggle was a better meal than one that simply gave up? Morena didn’t turn back to Pate. She continued to welcome in her summoning, until the sound of shattering glass startled her. She spun to see another demon--no mistaking it, with her vision--stride forward, destroying the carefully placed mirrors reflecting and amplifying the power needed to complete the ritual. Her face fell for a second, then a hiss that crescendoed into a shriek tore from her throat.

⁂

Perhaps it was her burgeoning sixth sense, but Pate felt somehow that it would be bad to look for too long at the shape emerging through the aperture over Beetlejuice’s cage. His shouted words of warning only served to confirm what her gut feeling told her, and Pate kept her gaze away from the action in the center of the circle, watching the cultists around her instead.

To her horror, some that couldn’t help staring into the void had rivulets of blood leaking from reddening eyes as blood vessels burst, dripping down their chins from their noses, but they seemed powerless to move or look away, their limbs and shoulders jumping and twitching.

The woman, their skyclad leader, stood facing the circle and the black, tentacled shape that was bubbling through the aperture like living tar. Her arms were outstretched in welcome, her back to Pate and the two men who held her. Pate spared a glance at the duo. The one on her left had his eyes resolutely closed under his hood, his head bowed to make certain his eyes did not fall on the terrible being in their midst.

However the other man, like some of his fellows, had fallen victim to his own curiosity. Blood streamed down his face from the corners of his eyes and his nostrils, convulsions shaking his frame. The hand that gripped Pate’s shoulder was white knuckled and trembling, bunched in the fabric of her shirt.

Despite her instincts to avoid looking at the creature the red haired woman had called the shoggoth, Pate’s eyes couldn’t seem to help turning toward the circle’s center. Beetlejuice was on the floor on all fours, his face contorted with fear as more tentacles erupted from the blackness and reached for him. The quivering tips seemed to be searching for something, and as Pate watched they located the ends of Beetlejuice’s own tentacles and seamlessly merged with them.

What was it doing to him? It seemed like as tentacles came through and latched onto his shadow mass, the more tentacles came through after. Somehow, it was feeding off him. What would happen if the shoggoth was allowed to emerge fully into the living world? Would anything be left of Beetlejuice then?

Pate struggled against her captors, desperate to do something, anything, to save him and received a violet shake from the man still cognizant. “Be still!” he barked. But she had to act, and fast, racking her brain for any clue as to what might save him. She knew his shadow mass was his most demonic attribute, and it seemed to be the key to this ceremony’s success or failure. If only she could find some way to negate the effect of his tentacles on the shoggoth, to deprive them of their potency, maybe the shoggoth would fail to emerge or even return to wherever it came from.

But how?

Beetlejuice was born-dead, she knew that much because he had told her. What else had he said? Pate gasped as she remembered a conversation they’d had one night, tangled in bed together. Beetlejuice had told her that if he married a living person, it would somehow transform him into a living being. Maybe that was the answer! If he was alive, maybe he wouldn’t have his shadow mass, the shoggoth would have nothing to hold onto and he’d be safe.

When Rigel appeared, shoving aside the tall mirrors and shattering them into jagged, glittering pieces, Pate made her move.

“Beej!” she yelled as loud as she could over the moans and cries of the cultists and the erratic, unearthly melody that played from nowhere. “Marry me!” She didn’t have time to elaborate on her plan, and she knew it must sound insane. She didn’t know the logistics of how this would work, if they had to have a preacher or some other officiant or what, but this was a last ditch effort and the only one she could manage restrained as she was.

He looked at her from the floor, his face a mask of confusion. Pate let out a bark of nearly hysterical laughter at the utter absurdity of their whole predicament, then said again, “Marry me! You’ll be alive!”

All at once her mouth closed against her will and she had no ability to open it. She sat back on her folded legs, working her jaw frantically to try and will her lips to part but they would not.

“I’ve had enough of your interfering,” the red-haired woman hissed, half turned to look down at her. She had summarily gagged Pate with her powers.

⁂

Father found more hand--no, tentacle--holds on him, and a scream of agony erupted from Beetlejuice’s throat. He was weakening, being drained of essence, and if he didn’t find a way out soon, those groping tentacles would make contact with more than just his own and deplete him completely. He’d fulfill becoming the true doorway for the beast, as the ritual intended.

He fought to keep any stray tentacles from finding and latching on to his skin. Shadow mass he was willing to lose, despite the pain. Outside his prison more was happening. Rigel finally got his act together! His younger brother had shoved immobilized cultists and their mirrors out of his way; as one mirror tipped and shattered on the floor, the shoggoth’s grip seemed to slacken for a second. Shards of the glass skipped over and past the chalk barrier, and Beetlejuice clawed for one, cutting his fingers and palm as he grabbed it tightly. He swung the weapon blindly, meeting both his own tentacles and his Father’s, slicing indiscriminately. It hurt him. He had no idea if it hurt good old dad. Another mirror was destroyed as Rigel moved towards Pate, then another. Each time the tenuous grip on him lessened for a moment, and Beetlejuice wanted to shout to break them all--but bringing attention to the flaw in the ceremony might make the cultists still lucid hurry to protect the remaining mirrors. Glittery shards of glass littered the floor. Maybe Pate could arm herself! In just a few more steps Rigel would be at her side, and he could whisk her out of here-- --Rigel stopped. A cultist, the one Morena called by name, stood in his way. Before the specter could demand that his brother just walk over the fucker, Pate shouted something that made him forget everything else in the room. Beetlejuice stared at her with wide eyes. His Father’s tentacles renewed their efforts as he tried to process the words she said. She squawked a noise that sounded on the edge of hysterics instead of the laughter he was familiar with as she repeated it. “Marry me! You’ll be alive!” It wasn’t--he understood--no, he didn’t quite understand--what? “Pate, baby--I, I--baby, I want--how--?!” His reply was as fragmented as his thoughts. Morena made a dismissive, flicking motion that was vaguely familiar to him and Pate was partially thrown back on her heels as the witch hissed her warning. Morena laughed at her struggles. “Pathetic try. Even if there was an officiant to oversee your little last-ditch effort, if you can’t talk, there’s no ‘I do.’ “

Beetlejuice watched helplessly as his lover was still held captive and gagged now too. More pain erupted through him the shoggoth above continued its efforts to take him apart, inch by inch.

⁂

Rigel almost shoved the cultist out of his way with more force than he’d toppled the mirrors, but the young man squared himself defiantly in front of him, giving him pause. The man’s bravado didn’t impress him, and his barely controlled tremble of fear didn’t sway him to leniency either. With snake-like speed, Rigel grasped the idiot’s throat, simultaneously lifting him off his feet and digging his nails in for more purchase. The man’s blood welled from around his fingernails and the demon smiled, leaning close. “Say hello to my mother for me,” he said pleasantly, “she just loves mindless drones.” He bent his head to lick a rivulet of blood from the man’s skin, dragging his tongue up to his jaw and cheek as he tightened his hold to strangle him. The man began an ineffectual flail. As his tongue crossed the man’s lips, Rigel jerked back in shock. “You!” he exclaimed. “You’re the one! Your mouth still tastes of him--” Red eyes flicked to his brother, who looked like a blubbering idiot unable to form a complete sentence while being devoured by his own Father. Rigel’s lip curled. “You’re disgusting, thinking you could gain favor by prostrating yourself,” he spat. “Live with your moronic choices.” He flung the man to the nearest wall, not even watching as the body slammed with a jarring thud that ended with a body crumpled in a motionless heap, Pate seemed to be struggling again, Beetlejuice was as ineffectual as always, and the witch was gloating something about “no ‘I do’.” It had to be that marriage gambit again, which would have made him laugh if they weren’t in the middle of a potentially apocalyptic event. With a sigh like he always had to do everything, Rigel began marching over towards Pate again.

⁂

Pate struggled as Rigel continued shattering mirrors and scattering those few cultists still capable of moving out of the demon’s way. She could feel the red-haired woman’s powers coiled around her face, holding her jaw clenched and her lips shut. Would Rigel, weakened as he was now by Dziban’s grisly demise, be able to take her?

And then there was Beetlejuice, frantically hacking at the shoggoth’s reaching tentacles with a make-shift dagger of broken glass. Her eyes fell on the chalk circle that enclosed him. She had to get to it, rub it out, get him away from that terrible, monstrous creature. But she was still held and gagged, and she got the feeling that Rigel was going to have his hands full with the leader.

Come on, get your shit together! Pate thought, mentally berating herself. You’re not helpless here! Just like Rigel and Lillian taught you, it’s all about will and intent! If this stark naked bitch can do it, so can you!

Pate stopped her useless wriggling against the men who held her and shut her eyes, forcing herself to focus on the epicenter of all her strange dreams and senses deep within. There was an energy there, crackling like electricity, just waiting for an outlet. Concentrating on the tendrils of power that kept her restrained, she gave it one.

Something like a shockwave blasted from her, powerful enough to rend away the red-haired woman’s aura that muted her and to send the bleeding and stricken captor to the floor with a loud thump. Wasting no time, Pate punched the other inside his knee and caused his leg tol fold under him. With a startled cry he let her go to catch himself from falling and she sprang up, leaving Rigel to tangle with the cult’s leader and ran for the circle, broken glass crunching under her feet.

“Beej!” she exclaimed in horror as he continued to slash at the oily black tentacles reaching for him through the void. At long last she stepped forward and scuffed out a portion of the circle with her shoe.

tbc . . .

#writing #fanfiction #Beetlejuice #Ties That Bind

13 notes · View notes