Sunday, May 10, 2015

A Belphegor Lemon -- Skate Into Monochrome

Character: Belphegor

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

OC: Quintana, stubborn, slightly manipulative and teasing~

Inspiration: Bel is jealous.  He decides to have his revenge sweet and merciless.  ß is aware it sounds like a book cover :3  Enjoy!

She had no idea how it got to this point.  One moment she was accidentally tripping on the dais of Xanxus’s stupid throne and the next she was landing face first into the self-imposed royalty’s lap.  It had been a completely horrifying experience because she happened to land with her nose pressed directly into his crotch – which would have of course been utterly mortifying on its off days.  Except that today it was especially so, because the moment it happened, the door flung open and in sauntered Belphegor.  And the other self-imposed royal did not seem to appreciate his self-imposed mistress with her face shoved so close to another man’s cock.
It took him all of three seconds to give a terrifyingly wide grin and drag several strings of knives out of his clothes.  Quin herself could only kneel there in front of Xanxus (a twitching, blankly confused Xanxus) and stared at her lover with huge eyes.  The misunderstanding only got worse when their leader raised an eyebrow, glanced at her, and smirked.  “If that’s your way of volunteering your services, maybe you should wait till we’re alone.” 
She drew away as if she’d been slapped – because she hadn’t volunteered her services, she’d tripped for fuck’s sake – but the words had already done their damage.  Belphegor had turned his hidden-but-undoubtedly-furious eyes on Quin, probably thinking that she had, indeed, ‘volunteered’ to fall into someone else’s lap.  And because she knew Belphegor pretty well by now, she merely sighed and tipped her head to the sky as if praying, unsurprised when she felt his cold fingers roughly wrap around her neck and pull her forcefully behind him.  She was definitely in for it now.
“Belphegor – “
He quickened his pace, his long legs near to running.  Quin’s shorter frame was pulled haphazardly behind his, face reddening because his fingers were still pressing tightly around her neck.  His rough handling of her was only just beginning, though.
She scowled and insisted, “Belphegor – “  But he only turned his head and gave her a look.  A look that quite clearly told her to shut her mouth if she knew what was good for her.  But she had never been one to care much for her own safety.  Living with the Varia and being Belphegor’s ‘royal mistress’ did that to a person.  And so a moment later she scoffed and angrily said, “You’re dragging this way out of proportion.  It was a complete mis- “
A moment later and she was shoved roughly against the wall, furious dark eyes peering down at her through strands of blonde hair.  Other than those eyes of his, he was fairly calm: his body was controlled, his breathing normal.  That was how she knew that he was angrier than usual.
“A misunderstanding – “ she tried to hurry to tell him, lest he did something he’d later regret.  Like kill her or something.  His fingers twitched around her neck and he pressed harder, squeezing her words into a jumble of breathy whispery useless sound.  He looked as if he either wanted to bury one of his knives into her chest or kiss her senseless, and she weren’t sure which one would be better.  Angry intimacy wasn’t exactly safe when it came to Belphegor, who was rough and bloody on his gentle days.
His lips curved up into that insane smile and he whispered, “Shishishi.  Imagine how shocked I was to find my mistress with her mouth on that bastard’s cock.  And to hear how she volunteered to put it there…”  Oh but his voice was dangerous, shaded with layer upon layer of that brilliant violence.  She thought she’d die just from the glare he sent her.
She wanted to tell him once and for all that she had done nothing of the sort, that he was being ridiculously jealous where there was no need for it.  But she never got the chance, and wouldn’t either, not until his anger had dissipated enough for him to see sense.  And so when she scrabbled at his chest and clutched to his shirt, trying to get him to let go of her because she couldn’t fucking breathe damn it, Belphegor made up his mind.  He sneered down at Quin, forced his thumb beneath her chin to push her head up, and then crashed his mouth furiously against hers in a toothy, bloody, fierce kiss that made her jolt against him in a silent gasp.
His hand still wrapped tight to her throat, Belphegor crushed her to the wall, restricting her breathing even as he forced his own down her throat.  His lips were rough but soft, the skin unbroken as they burned over hers.  The rest of him was not soft at all, though: his teeth were brutal and they bit down on her mouth; his tongue wicked as he lapped up the blood he drew. 
“Mmmmmmm…” Quin moaned, but Bel knew it was more of a complaint than a sound of pleasure.  He growled at the sound of it and released his hand from her throat, allowing her unadulterated breath as his hands roamed elsewhere.  Nowhere was safe from him: her breasts felt sore even now as he buried his hands beneath her shirt and squeezed them hard.  His nails drew red welts up her back, digging so fiercely into her pale skin that she swore she felt the drop of blood is several places.  And sure enough, when he brought his fingers back, his nails were crimson.  But fuck it all to hell, he looked sexy when he brought those fingers to his lips and sucked the blood away, peering down at her all the while with those dangerous eyes.
He took several moments to look down at his handiwork, eyes flickering over her form as he stood with his arms crossed.  She was shivering, shaking against the wall gasping so harshly that he wondered idly if perhaps he crushed her esophagus a little too much.  Her lips were trembling and bloody, crimson droplets darting from the corner of her mouth to her chin and dripping casually to her white shirt. 
He followed their progression and noted with pleased eyes that her nipples were all but straining against that shirt, hard and taut and ready to be sucked.  He wanted to see the extent of her back too, but for that her shirt would have to be removed.  And for that, the privacy of his room would be preferable to a hallway.  He was the only one allowed to see her.  His hardness her pretty little mouth was allowed suck. 
And so he raised his eyes back to hers and Quin swallowed at the emotions behind them, fully aware of what he was thinking.  When he reached down to snatch up her wrist again, she was thoroughly unsurprised to find herself being dragged yet again behind him.  Only this time she was fully aware of their destination and what awaited her there.
Bel’s room was luxurious.  There was no other way to describe it.  The floor length windows were of the same variety as every other in the Varia compound, except his were draped with expensive satin curtains that sheered the sunlight into muffled, lovely blue tones.  The walls were the same too, but his were fitted with lovely vibrant paintings framed with vintage, golden painted wood.  And the bed, the bed was strewn with gorgeous fabrics, all silks and Egyptian cottons and plush furs.  It was a bed fit for a prince.  A prince and his mistress that is.
He pushed Quin inside the breathtaking room and closed the door behind him, locked it without sparing it a glance, and dragged her to the bed a moment later.  Then he gathered her up into his arms and muttered darkly, “Strip and lay on your stomach.”  She sighed, and obeyed. 
The sweater was peeled off and flung to the floor, leaving her bloody blouse to cling to her back.  Her leather leggings came next, followed by her panties.  When she was half bare before him, Bel nodded stoically to the bed and Quin dropped herself onto it, shifting into the middle of the mattress before twisting onto her stomach.  She had absolutely no idea what he was planning: his face was carefully blank when she peered up at him, and he gave nothing away.
Perhaps that was why she was so surprised when he didn’t reach for the knife she’d expected him to.  Instead Bel shuffled onto the mattress, straddled the backs of her thighs, and began to massage her rear in the loveliest, gentle, most non-angry way ever.  It shocked her so much that Quin rose onto her elbows and turned her head to stare at him.  And Bel merely blinked back, raising an eyebrow.  Then he suddenly drew a hand up into the air and slapped it back down so hard that she gasped and buried her face into the pillows with a moaning whine.  Because even though she was loathe to admit it, that slap was highly arousing and even better than any knife-play he might’ve turned to instead.
Belphegor narrowed his eyes at her and reached down to twist a hand into her hair, painfully dragging her head up.  “I think you need to be reminded whose mistress you are.”  The words were angry and he began clawing her back again, dragging his nails roughly down her skin then bending over to lick at the blood.  The way his tongue flicked all the way from her lower back to her shoulders had Quin biting her lip and pounding with desire.
“Bel…please – “
“Please?” his teeth suddenly sunk into her shoulder blade hard enough to pierce the skin, and she writhed as the painful pleasure beat her down.  Or was that just his hand, striking her once more on the ass and forcing stinging passion through her veins?  “Please what, wench?”
Oh, so she’d gone from ‘mistress’ to ‘wench’ had she?  That was a demotion if there ever was one, but she couldn’t give it much thought.  She only cried out, eyes watering as the intensity of arousal overcame her.  God she wanted him.  Wanted him so badly and in such a short amount of time that it the desire was almost brutal.
Another slap, another bite, and she was sobbing out a pleading, “Please fuck me.  Please fuck me Bel!  Please – “
“Che,” Bel muttered, leisurely wrapping a hand over her mouth and muffling the begging whines.  “No way.  You need to be punished for your betrayal first.”  And Quin moaned, derision making her voice lower.  The betrayal he was speaking of was nonexistent – she wouldn’t betray Bel even if she wanted to.  She’d be way too scared of the repercussions.  And now she had a pretty good idea as to what they were.
His breath descended, his lips careening down her back.  Suddenly his teeth were sinking rather roughly into her hip, immediately followed by a quick lick as he lapped up the edges of the bite mark.  It was shallow enough where it did not bleed, and that was practically a blessing when it came to him.  It also a message: a message that he was getting too aroused to bother with any more punishment.
She wriggled her hips and lifted her head, glancing back at him.  Through the thick atmosphere that had built up precariously between them, their eyes locked and shuttered.  The image seemed to blur, like a camera flickering through its settings, and when the picture finally came into focus Quin felt almost as if she had lost some significant portion of the message.  As if she had fainted and returned, only to find the moment lost. 
Bel pushed her head back down, forcing her cheek against the mattress while his other hand dragged his zipper down.  He was freeing his member soon after.  Quin could just barely see him from where she lay, but it mattered little.  She could feel him, the hardness of him as he rubbed his cock along her folds.  She could feel his calloused fingertips impatiently shift her legs apart.  She couldn’t see him but it was fine, because the rest of her senses filled in the gaps that her vision could not bridge.
“Lift your hips, wench,” Bel muttered.  His voice sounded like sandpaper, roughly scratching over the lower octaves of his voice and shaving off unnecessary syllables.  Quin whimpered at it, at the way it could make her ache so strongly and want him so badly.  She shifted her hips, but was apparently too slow in her obedience.  Bel scoffed angrily and heaved her up the rest of the way, forcing her on her knees.  Hardly a moment later he was sinking himself inside her, and he wasn’t particularly gentle about it. 
Quin couldn’t find it in her to complain.  She was used to his roughness, his edges and cliffs.  She was used to his manipulative nature and his anger, and yet also used to the rare moments where she would find herself in his arms.  Where he would show her a much more vulnerable and strangely endearing side of him.
She whimpered.  From above, Bel stared down the curve of her back, eyes shifting over every bump of her spine as it unfurled before him.  His fingers dug into her rear as his hips crashed against hers.  His pace was an immediate drag of unforgiving power, the likes of which she could feel burning the very depths of her. 
“Bel…Belphegor!” she cried, pressing her face into the mattress.  The red silk sheets felt sinfully good even though she was only half undone.  It didn’t matter, and Bel didn’t seem to have a problem with her haphazard appearance.  All he seemed to care about was keeping his pace as hard and unforgiving as he could. 
Tears trickled down Quin’s face, landing in wet droplets on the crumbled silk.  She could feel him everywhere, burning and searing pain through her core.  But with that pain was an immeasurable amount of pleasure that she could not explain, only drown in.  She found that she both loved and hated this, and him as well.  Yet she couldn’t get enough of his movements, the physicality of their union, and on an even deeper level, his barely-there reverence.  The hint that even in all this pain he still revered her, worshiped her, maybe even loved her.
Suddenly everything stopped, and Bel withdrew from her.  He grasped her ankle and shoved her onto her back in one fluid, solid movement that she was not expecting.  Because it was so unexpected, she went easily and without a fight.  Bel instantly straddled her, pressing his knees to either side of her hips and immediately reaching for her blouse.  The fabric still clung to her loosely, though it had torn in several places.  He hadn’t bothered taking it off before but seemed to have a change of heart now.  With movements that were far too slow to her liking, Bel began to unbutton the shirt from the bottom up, clearly taking his time as he blinked down at her reaction.
Said reaction was more desperate than he was prepared for.  Perhaps it had to do with her own desires, the way he’d stopped fucking her so quickly.  Perhaps it merely had to do with the way his hard, wet cock was currently pressed against her abdomen as he leaned over her.  Whatever it was, Bel was enjoying the way she was gasping, eyes tightly closed in anticipation.
“Che.  You look like a wench, wench.”  The last button came undone and he pushed her shirt aside, going in to unclip her bra.  His fingers brushed over her skin and she bit her lip, chin pushing into the air as she waited for his hands to reach her breasts.  When they did, she couldn’t stop the small mewling moan that gently pushed from her lips.  The sound was so soft in all that roughness that it made Bel momentarily lost, and he stared down at her with eyes that said as much.
“I’m not a wench,” Quin told him, stronger than she expected.  Her voice was ragged but not so ruined that she couldn’t defend yourself.  He was clearly not anticipating it either, because Bel leaned back, his hands drifting away from her breasts to linger on her abdomen.  He tilted his head and she took it as a sign for her to go on.
With a jolt of muscle Quin rolled up, curling her legs around his waist to anchor herself there.  The movement pushed her face to face with Bel, so close that she could count each individual eyelash lining his curious, cat-like eyes.  So close she could almost feel his heart pulsing through the pocket of sound between them.  He blinked and waited. 
“I’m a princess,” Quin said, narrowing her eyes, “and I didn’t cheat on you with Xanxus of all people, so just fuck me already Belpha – mm!”
She wasn’t sure if he liked or disliked her use of the word ‘princess’, but she certainly enjoyed the rough quality of his lips as they attacked hers.  At once she was pushed back into the mattress and Bel was leaning over her, and his hands were everywhere.  The room became a vacuum, suckering away all else and forcing her focus only on Bel.
“Ooohh…” she moaned, because a moment later his fingers were sharply searing over her clit, rubbing her none too gently and easily blending her pleasure and her pain together into one messily tattered dream world.  If this was his punishment then she’d gladly take it, but of course it didn’t end there.  Before she could collect herself, his fingers were being replaced with his cock.  He slid so easily, so swiftly inside her that she almost didn’t realize what was happening until he started thrusting. 
His pace was sinful, wickedly fast and delirious.  Whatever delicate grip she had on reality utterly shattered and Quin pushed her head back into the mattress, fingers clenching around his shoulders as he rammed her down.  The force of it all was enough to make her hips ache, doubtless bruises patterning her skin.  Her thighs hurt too, from where his fingers dug into them, but she couldn’t complain.  She could only lay there and blink up at him with lips parted in silent, reverent gasps.  And he blinked right back, somehow calm in all this stormy tangled lovemaking.  Somehow princely.
“Bel…Bel!” she moaned, and for once he didn’t tell her to shut up.  Instead he just smirked down at her and his pace rushed ever faster, spinning her for a loop and possessing her with every brash, domineering motion.
“You didn’t fuck that bastard?” he asked, though his voice was more of a rough shift of dark syllables than a question.  His hair was messily strewn over his forehead but she could still see his eyes, and the crinkled anger passion in them made her orgasm thunder through her so quickly that she could hardly keep up.  Yet he wouldn’t allow her to come, not yet, not until she gave him an answer. 
“N-no!  I tripped,” she sobbed, clenching his shoulders so hard that the skin broke and droplets of blood ran down his pale skin.  “I’m yours…yours…Belphagor…!”
Apparently it was good enough, because he grunted and threw himself forward, hips pushing hers down and dragging her into an orgasm that made her wonder if perhaps she’d died and was shooting through time itself.  With a sobbing gasp she came, and her orgasm was just as rough as the way he loved her, and stars clouded her vision and pulled it apart, and then she could only see him.  And that was even better than stars or universes recoiling with light.
“Che,” he muttered, pulling out of her.  His cock was still hard and she knew the night was far from finished.  He did, too.
“Come over here and suck me off, princess,” he told her.  She stared, he blinked.  Then with a glowing smile she rolled over and crawled between his legs, taking him into her mouth without preamble and enjoying the grunting sort of moan that left his lips as she began sucking.
“Princess?” she asked much later, when they had collapsed together in a tangled heap of limbs and rasping silence.  He narrowed his eyes at her and gave her hair a generously painful yank before continuing to thread his fingers through it.  She shook silently with laughter and pressed a kiss against his chest.  Inside, She was happily lethargic and his new elevated name for her rang round and round about her head.  Each pass of it cemented it into existence.  Each touch of his fingers gently folding over Quin’s head made her think that perhaps love was not so black and white as She’d always believed, loving Bel.  Because even he was a contrast, a mass of gray tiles between the whites and sandwiched sideways against the blacks.  She would never tell him she loved him, but perhaps she would journey more precariously into the grays of their affection.



  1. That was great!! very hot too :3c

  2. You are amazing XD this is amazing, I love it!

    1. So glad! I hope it was worth the extremely long wait T.T

    2. It was worth it alright, I loved it! XD

  3. This was great!! I'm so happy you're back!

  4. That was amazing it would really cool if you made a Hawkeye one, because he barely gets any attention