Kingdom Hearts Kink Meme

[kokanshu]

KINGDOM HEARTS KINK MEME

Indexed at kh-kinkmeme
and on delicious here

Rules:

1. Post a pairing plus a kink.

1a. One request per comment.

1b. The only kink not allowed on this meme is anything involving underage sex. What I mean by this is if, either in the request or fic, it is made clear (either by stating a number or giving a physical description) that

Comments

[anonymous]

I do hope that I filled this the way you intended.This is my first attempt at something for this meme though I've lurked for a while to read it.

Demyx isn’t certain how he’s managed to get here again, fingers half buried up his own ass as he jerks in disgust. He wants to pull them out, to wipe them off and go play his sitar but that more vicious side of him purrs, demanding he be allowed to finish what he’s started. He supposes he should be grateful, as he lets that second personality take control again, trying not to mentally wince as he feels himself give a wanton moan as he starts fucking himself with his fingers again, though he’s in a far too awkward position to hit that little bundle of nerves that always makes his resolve break. He almost sighs in relief as the more vicious side abandons fingering himself, only to mentally scream and protest at the signs of a vibrator (when had he bought that?!) and lube appearing on the bed. The hand reaching for it stops, and he has control for the moment, struggling against his own personalities to make it to the bathroom. Take a cold shower, it’ll all go away, but that cold, maniacal voice whispers that if he wants cold, they could find Vexen, wearing nothing but a pretty little Lolita dress. He whimpers, fighting the voice’s insistence at getting the vibrator and shoving it up his ass. He hates this, hates how much that other him will do for anything sexual, and he means anything.

He doesn’t remember how the other him was created, possibly in a defense to protect himself from the cruel, cold world? It doesn’t really matter Demyx supposes as he find himself up against the wall, hand wrapped around his front and stroking himself. Gods, why can’t he win? He wants nothing to do with sex, he just wants to play his sitar. He’s protesting loudly in his head, disrupting the rhythm in his head as he moves towards the shower again, gasping and groaning as he manages to get under the cold spray, fingers clawing at the cool tile as he mentally struggles to lock away that vicious personality that is mentally taking rips and tears at him, calling him a baby. Asexual. A freak. That hurts when your own personalities call you things like that. He leans in the shower, relieved when the hard-on fades away and disappears, allowing him to return to his room and to, in more than a little disgust, throw the vibrator in the trash along with the lube and settles back on the bed, summoning his sitar and starting to play.

[anonymous]

He’s so wrapped up in the music he doesn’t realize the other him has broken free of the mental restraints again until it’s too late. He’s shoved into the passenger seat as this other him sends the sitar away and searches for clothing items he doesn’t remember buying at all. A dress, stockings, underware he’s certain belonged to Larxene at one point. And then it’s out the door, on the hunt for anyone whose willing to fuck him, much to his screams and mental struggles he can’t regain control. The other him is smirking at him, doing a great job at mimicking his carefree attitude as he makes his way to the commons, murmuring that they’re going to get laid as he moves into the room and finds his target, Vexen tonight. Gods, the man doesn’t even like him, and so he can’t express enough horror to that other version of himself as they walk up to the academic who, living up to his title of the Chilly Academic, demands he be left in peace. This is of course before he looks up and catches sight of that false Demyx’s outfit.

He wants to scream, to shout, to try and claw his way away from Vexen as IV reaches out and pulls him onto his lap, that other him smirking mentally and leaning in to kiss the man. He bites at IV’s lips, and gets slapped as a result, and a remark that little girls shouldn’t do that. He sobs a little inside, clawing at the walls of his mental cage, wanting out. He needs to be in control, to play this off. Instead his body and that vicious, not-him simple moans as IV’s hand slides over that traitorous organ between his legs that has hardened just from the other him and his mental image of all the things he intends to do tonight. It’s much later that he lays in bed, sobbing and curled in on himself as he swears it won’t happen again, he’ll stay in charge of his own body, that other personality, the other him, will stay away. He’s sore from everything the other him has done, and more than a bit broken as he curls in on himself and finally drops off to sleep. It’s all lies he knows, and that’s why he knows he’ll wake up screaming, fingers half up his ass again, ready to repeat it all over again.