#another variation on a theme

[bandanad33]

Some pfps for my RP ocs :]!

[viperwhispered]

hello oomf tis i, throwing some of those twst oc asks for emi lind:

What's the chore unique to Heartslaybul that they look least forward to? What's their favourite? (tending the flamingoes/hedgehogs, organizing the Unbirthday parties, painting the roses, etc. etc.)

Are they intimidated by the tweels? How did their first meeting go? Have they ever had the opportunity to put them in their places? (since the leech!emi shenanigans are still rolling in my brain)

How did your OC fare on the treks hypnotized Kalim took them on?

Oo, you picked some interesting ones Dio 👀 Ty for the asks! ❤️

Heartslabyul chores

What's the chore unique to Heartslaybul that they look least forward to? What's their favourite? (tending the flamingoes/hedgehogs, organizing the Unbirthday parties, painting the roses, etc. etc.)

Emi would find painting the roses pretty senseless and useless, and without a good reason for doing it, it’d become extra boring. So that’d probably be her least favorite. She wouldn’t mind / could enjoy tending to the animals, though, especially the hedgehogs (they’re cute and look less like they could take an eye out if you’re unlucky). Yeah it’s not like it’s all glamor scooping out poop or whatever, but helping the animals be comfortable and well-treated certainly is more appealing than many other chores. And being the one on the organizing / planning side of things for the parties? That she could definitely excel in (and make excel sheets for).

But yeah, for most of the stuff, she'd rather just play hooky with ADeuce - or be Trey's taste tester / errand girl.

Tweels

Are they intimidated by the tweels? How did their first meeting go? Have they ever had the opportunity to put them in their places? (since the leech!emi shenanigans are still rolling in my brain)

Lol, yuusona!Emi sure has very different opinions here than leech!Emi does. Absolutely intimidated, though Floyd generally puts her more on edge than Jade does (loud and chaotic and openly unpredictable? not her thing). There’s a reason both the twins just have the fear color throughout in this chart, oop.

Though I suppose if the teatime bonding would actually happen, she might gain some more… idk, comfort? understanding? nuance? when it comes to Jade and how she views him. A lil bit, at least.

However, the tweels would need to do a lot for her to start feeling actually comfortable with them, or actually seeking out their presence. Floyd in particular, they just don’t really mesh that well.

Her first meeting(s) with them would be pretty much according to canon - coming across them with the Heartslabyul gang, getting bad vibes, and then getting even more bad vibes during book 3. (...And now that I’m thinking about her reactions there,  instead of shrimpy, Floyd could also call her a hermit crab or something, for drawing away into her shell.)

For an opportunity to put them in their places… Doesn’t really seem likely. She might go mouthing them off if they really diss someone she cares about, or get something snappy/sassy off somewhere, but it’s not too likely. The only possibility I can really think of would be some kinda dream shenanigans, but a) I would need to actually read Octavinelle’s book 7 bits for details and b) again doesn’t seem likely for various reasons.

Basically, unless circumstances smush them together, Emi won’t be interacting with the tweels that much (other than maybe trying to avoid the brunt of Floyd’s attention if she happens to come meet Jamil after practice or something - just realized that might be a bit of a thing, too).

Scarabia treks

How did your OC fare on the treks hypnotized Kalim took them on?

In one word: badly.

She’s not very fit, she thinks anything above like 23 C / 73 F starts getting a little too hot, she burns pretty easily, and she’s yanked from Sage’s Island winter to sudden blasting of sunshine and heat without any chance for her body to adjust. (At least it’s dry heat, but that only does so much.)

I mean, walking 10 kilometers in these conditions, while being very much unused to it, oof - and then making the trek back, as well.

So I suppose Jamil will be tossing her some sunscreen, but otherwise she’ll be pretty miserable and probably at the risk of heatstroke once the morning turns to day (wouldn’t that be convenient fodder for Jamil’s plans, the housewarden being such a tyrant that people even get ill / faint from it, oh dear).

Honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she ends up spraining an ankle or something, too, if they’re walking on very loose sand.

So once they finally get back to the dorm, she’ll be definitely exhausted at best if not in need of some medical attention, and decidedly pink if not worse from the sunburn.

And then she gets to do it again the next morning 🙃 (though I suppose getting ill might get her spared if she's really lucky)

(the ask game in question)

tagging the other emi peeps: @scint1llat3 @moonyasnow @bibi-cha

[the-insouciant-scientist]

pros of having a tailor character: ough the potential for so many interesting and fancy outfits cons of having a tailor character: h. how do i. how do i figure out a "basic" outfit here

[thenotoriousscuttlecliff]

The very brief explanation we're given for why Chibnall's Master is the way they are ("everything I am is because of you") is flimsy, unsatisfying, not really thought out or explored with any depth, reduces their rivalry with the Doctor to being all about status rather than intellect, never connected with their time as Missy in any way, not all that interesting, and completely contradicted by their next appearance. The Master always becomes less interesting as a villain when you try to reduce him to just being envious or resentful of the Doctor, those are like stock villain motivations. The Doctor's got loads of enemies who hate and resent them, what has always set the Master apart is that they're also kinda in love with them and see their battles as foreplay. Take that away and the Master just becomes generic Time Lord Villain #2.

[ratnurse]

Saw someone on twitter describe world wars 1 and 2 as "russia and germany fighting over the dismembered corpse of the polish-lithuanian commonwealth" and I cant thinking about how real that is (on some levels; they were world wars after all)

[missbrunettebarbie]

A parallel between Claire Nunez (Trollhunters) and Duela Doe (Gotham Knights) that had popped into my head recently, courtesy of @laufire (Lau enabling my current obssession; what else is new? xDD) I have no editing skills so here are 2 low quality screenshots showing the lengths to which these girls would go to in order to save their love interests (Jim Lake Jr., respectively Turner Hayes):

In the first photo, Claire uses her magical powers to hide the sun in order to protect Jim, who is in troll form and as such would be killed by daylight.

In the second photo, Duela attackes Carrie after Carrie tried to stop her from giving the electrum -a meteor rock that can give humans immortality- to the murderous cult that is holding Turner hostage.

Do I have a point with this parallel? Not really. I just love-love-love how potent these ships are and just how far these two girls would go in the name of love. Truly there is no shipper high that's as great as the high you get from shipping the show's designated main pairing.

[oasisofgalaxies]

The strange and alien can be found amongst the mundane and small. Little wonders can be found everywhere.

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than sickness

Lost Caverns of Ixalan is coming out on Arena tomorrow and I've avoided looking up any spoilers, aside from a few individual cards I stumbled across that didn't have any reminder text, so I have no idea what the new mechanics are. I looked up a list of the NAMES of the mechanics on the mtg fandom wiki, and I decided to make mechanics based on those names to see how close I get and also because it's fun.

Also I made this card for the descend mechanic at first but I didn't like the mechanic. How dare WotC make such a parasitic mechanic, they should really hire better designers smh. Also I realized that craft would probably be more interesting with artifacts that have tap abilities.

[hiiragi7]

Not my usual content, but I made something I wanted to share...

Edit: Now with an ID from @a-captions-blog! Thank you for writing it!

[Art description: A Pokémon-themed comic featuring OP as a Pikachu. Long description follows.

1. The tips of Pikachu’s ears are shown with text that says, ‘I’m a Pikachu / My world is filled with lots of cool stuff. Sometimes it feels like anything is possible!’ Under this is a collage showing a Charizard, a Pidgeotto, a Nidoking, an Eevee, and an Ivysaur, all in the background as the Pikachu looks up in wonder. Text reads, ‘All sorts of types, all sorts of attacks, all sorts of Pokemon.’

2. Text says, ‘But...only two ways a Pikachu’s tail could look.’ Two boxes in the upper corners show the male and female Pikachu tails, respectively. The male has a rectangular end to his tale, and the female has a heart-shaped end to hers. Text continues, ‘So then, what am I?’ A large drawing of the narrator Pikachu is shown, with an arrow pointing to their tail, whose end is split somewhat like scissors and doesn’t match either the male or female drawing above.

3. Text says, ‘Too pointy to be [female], too much of a V-shape to be [male]. I thought there was something wrong with me.’ Under this are three cascading panels showing the Pikachu from below at an angle emphasizing their tail. The second panel shows mel further away, and in the final panel she have disappeared entirely. Text on the panels reads, ‘I felt / very, very, very / alone.’

4. Text says, ‘But then, something happened. I found others like me.’ The art shows the narrator reaching out to another Pikachu. Under this are three other Pikachu. One has a rounded tail, one has a tail that has been stitched up to be rectangular, and one has a tail with a slight spike at the tip.

5. Closeups are shown of each of the tails from the previous panel, with text that says, ‘Round tails, scarred tails, spiky tails.’ Under this is a drawing of the Pikachu all hugging with lightning coming from their cheeks. Text reads, ‘They told me nothing was wrong with me, and I wasn´t alone anymore.’

6. Text says, ‘There are many ways a Pikachu’s tail can look. I’ve heard there’s at least over 30 different variations.’ Under this are two panels. The first panel shows the narrator lying on their back on a background of male and female symbols. Text reads, ‘Some days are still hard.’ In the second panel, the Pikachu with the scarred tail is shown with text that says, ‘My friend tells me her tail used to look just like mine. It was taken from her.’

8. The narrator is shown sitting and looking upwards. Text reads, ‘Some trainers won’t accept Pikachu that aren’t [male] or [female]. They alter our tails without our consent. But things are getting better. We are making change. We’re fighting so that our tails will be left alone.’ Under this is a panel showing the four Pikachu running happily towards the right. Text reads, ‘We’re all on a spectrum. Every tail looks different; anything is possible.’

The final text reads, ‘This is a comic about intersex people.’ The watermark in the lower right says @ PostManic. \End descriptions

[mycological-mariner]

My friend and I are terrible in public because we will just make high pitched “Eeee!” noises which we understand perfectly but to any poor Lidl shoppers must be horrifying to have two autistic banshees in the dairy section

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Lowlife Princess

Act Two: The Joker is one hell of a force to be reckoned with, especially when it comes to his precious girlfriend. Or — You and Jeong Yunho are perfect for one another.

❥Jeong Yunho x fem reader

"They became the King and Queen of Gotham City — and God help anyone who disrespected the Queen."

(>ᴗ•)genre: smut with plot, gotham au

♫soundtrack♫

SERIOUSLY 18 AND OLDER. MINORS TAKE YOUR LEAVE.

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: not beta read, sugar baby reader / obsessive joker yunho, daddy kink outside of sex, possessive behavior, reader wears skirts and dresses because yun likes it but he doesn't make her, yunho goes above and beyond to help reader get revenge, kidnapping, the couple who tortures together stays together aka they torture someone (not detailed, mostly off screen), reader showing just how crazy she can be, recounting murder of family members, smoking and trying to quit (again, yun), emotional vulnerability, causal nudity, reader stalked / threatened / held hostage briefly, physical violence (not towards reader), blood, murder, crazy ass yunho laughing while he kills someone / crazy ass reader gets turned on by it.

smut warnings: very long smut scenes, soooo much more sex than act one; both have high sex drives and now there's no holding back- 😭 general: rough dom yunho, so many pet names (baby, princess, pretty girl, doll, love, angel, sweetie (variations of little, poor, sweet, dumb / stupid, needy, all used affectionately) ), daddy kink + ddlg themes, hardcore dacryphilia, size difference!!, he has a habit of edging himself, overstimulation, yunho likes when reader is a bit mean, praise + kind of condescending yunho, EXTREMELY possessive dialogue (going both ways), cunnilingus, unprotected (wrap it before you tap it), dumbification, spit, matching each others freak on an astronomical level, lowkey marathon sex, yunho king of dirty talk, squirting, spanking + slapping, choking !!! manhandling !!! hardcore sex !!! they are freak nasty !!! 1: brief somnophilia (yun wakes reader up with head), gentle to rough, yunho makes reader scream his name + say she belongs to him, intense morning sex, orgasm control, talk about fantasies including cnc + free use / exhibitionism / anal / throat training 2: brief somno (reader wakes yun up with head), i went maybe a smidge too detailed while describing his cock... cock worship ! kind of ball worship, hand job, hand kink goes both ways, face + throat fucking / head pushing, tongue in ear action (don't look at me-), mid sex love confession, messy make out, slight cnc: yunho 'makes' reader take more than she can handle but she can stop him at any time, fingering, aftercare wooohoo !

➯a/n: dAYYYUM YALL CALM DOWN kkkkk but in all seriousness thank you, i am really proud of this story so im glad people like it so far ! im just as crazy for joker yunho as you guys lol aaand tag list at the bottom because i legit ran out of room above the cut from the warnings 🥲 enjoy and let me know what you think <3

♡masterlist + navigation !♡

ꕥ

You wake up sore. Muscles aching, hips tender. And you feel like you're about to fall into a warm pool of ecstasy. Tears are already welling up in your sleep hazed eyes.

"Good mornin', doll." Yunho's voice reaches you muffledly, and you quickly find why when you lift your heavy head off the pillow and find him lying between your legs.

At some point last night, he came home with you. Stayed with you and held you until you both fell asleep.

"Yunie?" You moan sleepily, slumping back into the mattress. "What're you doing?"

"Breakfast~" He chuckles, giving your slit a long, slow lick that makes you shiver. "I told you I wanted to spoil your pussy, didn't I?"

You let out a little whine, melting beneath his tongue as he starts lapping at your clit. "F-uck," you stutter, rubbing your eyes before you look down at him again. "How long have you been down there?"

He looks at his watch from where he caresses your sore hip. Not even bothering to remove his tongue from your wetness, he holds up two fingers. "Only two minutes? I feel like I'm about to cum..." You sigh softly, his actions filling your sleep addled body with pure bliss.

"Twenty," he mumbles with a mouthful of you, having wrapped his lips around your cunt and began sucking. He lets go with a lewd pop. "Pretty sure you already have, princess~"

"One more then," you ramble out, quickly pulling his head back towards you by his hair and making him moan. "Please, Daddy? Your tongue feels so good~"

He can't deny you. He said he'd give you anything you wanted, and if you want him to eat you out until he physically can't anymore — he will. His tongue is back to work in a second, licking at your clit while his lips massage your swollen ones; still puffy from taking his pounding. Making out with your cunt slow and passionate, he has to grind down on your mattress to relieve some of the pressure of his hard on.

It doesn't take long for you to crash into your peak, sensitive from last night and newly awakened after his almost half hour long teasing. You meet it with a broken gasp, your twitching hips held still by his warm grip, tears slipping down your face and wetting your pillow.

His hands slide up your body as he crawls up to hover over you; coming all the way to cradle your heated face. "I could eat you out for hours, baby," he whispers against your lips before kissing you softly, smearing your own slick against your face.

"Will you fuck me? Please?" You whine breathlessly when he pulls back, tracing your hand across his naked back and feeling the scratches you left there. "I want to make you feel good, J."

"Fuck," he sighs, leaning his forehead against yours, "you're so tempting~" He searches your eyes deeply, "was I too rough last night, love?"

You blink a few times, taking in the new nickname with a soft smile. "No," you shake your head, spreading your legs further for him, "I liked it, a lot..."

"Good~" He pecks your lips before rolling you onto your side, not giving you enough time to wonder what's he's up when when slots himself behind you; his bulge against your ass. "I woke up so hard for you... I thought last night was the best dream of my life~"

You gasp softly as he lines up with you, using the mix of his spit and your arousal to lube himself up, grinding against you. "Fuck," you breathe out in a huff, dripping on his length from the way he wraps his arms around your waist tenderly, "you're gonna have me like this?"

"Mhm~" He kisses your shoulder, rubbing his thumbs over your ribs soothingly as he sinks into you slowly, letting his eyes roll back freely. You feel so hot and billowy around his pulsing girth. Like heaven on Earth. "Best of both worlds," his voice is dripping with pleasure, "get to cuddle and fuck."

"I love that," you laugh airily, holding your hands over his while he begins thrusting slowly. His member stretching you out so gently makes you dizzy. "Love it when you hold me, Daddy..."

"I know you do, sweet girl~" He smiles into your skin, keeping his pace leisurely and deep; massaging your sore walls with his cock. "You fit so perfect in my arms, don't you?"

"God, yes," you sniffle, holding his hands tighter. You don't know if you'll ever get over crying during sex — probably not. Because Yunho is encouraging it. He likes it. He likes making you feel so good you cry; he loves it. Even when he gifted you your jacket and you started tearing up, he had got hard.

Something is wired a bit off in your mind; crying when you feel even an ounce of pleasure or sudden happiness. But that's okay — something is wired completely off in his; getting rock hard when he makes you cry.

"You cryin' already, princess?" He coos into your ear as he continues his lazy early morning stroking of your insides. "You like it that much? Am I making you feel so good you don't know what to do?" He chuckles as you let out a muffled 'mhm', not trusting your voice to do more without sobbing.

He can tell you feel vulnerable, and that makes it all the better because you continue to hold his hands and trust him not to break you in your fragile state. He can hold you like a breakable doll, like now, and he can manipulate your body like a lewd toy, like last night — and you love it just as much either way. And he won't take advantage of that fact.

Now that you're all his, he's going to do everything in his power to make you feel happy and safe and fucked to contentment.

"Don't you worry, baby-doll," the hybrid of his two nicknames for you makes you clench around him, breathing shakily, "Daddy will take care of you and your wet little cunt~"

"Nghh-" You gurgle on your own moan as one of his arms slips up and his large hand wraps around your throat, choking you just enough to cut off a bit of your air flow.

"Shit-" He hisses as you clench around him tightly, leaning his head against your shoulder, "you really do like it when I choke you~ You're fucking perfect..." You also, evidently, like it when he praises you — because a shiver runs through your body as you cum around him, moaning and sobbing in some sort of harmonious mix.

"Y-Yunie!" You croak out with a whine, breathing deeply as he eases his grip and strokes your neck softly.

"Shhh, you're okay~ Can you take it just a little longer, princess?" He reaches down and cups your cunt softly, making you fidget. One of his arms around your shoulders and the other over your hips, though; you don't get far. "Quit squirmin', use your words."

You yelp as he sucks on your neck, his hand squeezing your puffy pussy as he continues to thrust at a torturously slow pace. "F-fuuuck! Fuck you, why is your cock so perfect?"

He has a huge grin on his lips, body tingling at your tearful voice. The way you said 'fuck you' and then immediately praised him makes his brain pleasantly foggy. "Can you take it, baby? You gonna let me fuck you until I fill your perfect pussy~?"

"Ah~ Uh-huh!"

"Words, doll~"

You groan loudly, eyes squeezing shut and making fat tears roll down your face. "Yes! Yes, Daddy!"

"Yes?" The feeling of his tongue tracing up to your ear makes you tremble. "Say, 'Daddy, please fuck my perfect pussy until you cum'," he whispers right to you, moaning at the way your walls twitch around him. "Make it good, baby, you know I don't like to ask for things twice."

Zero hesitation is to be found as you grab at the sheets, steadying yourself as he locks a leg over yours and starts fucking into you with more force. Still slow and steady, but it feels like his rattling your brains every time he bottoms out. His chest is so warm against your back.

"Yunie! Daddy, p-please- oh, god~ Fuck m- ah! I can't think! M'sorry, I can't think!"

"Poor baby~" His laughter tickles your neck, "can't even remember a sentence cause I'm dicking you so good, huh?"

"Nuh-uh," you shake your head, that's one thing you can do.

The spank on your ass makes you shout, both of your hands flying up to your face and covering your mouth. "Words, baby," he reminds you with a threat, "or I'm gonna have to stop."

"No! Don't stop!" You wail behind your hands, grinding your hips back into him and making him moan deeply. "Please-" You whine as you search your scrambled brains, "oh! Daddy! Please, fuck my p-perfect pussy until you cum!" It comes out a bit slurred, but it plasters a smirk on his face nonetheless; even more satisfied when you add some of your own. "Fill me up, Yunie~ Want it, want it, pleaseee!"

"Oh, that's a good girl, I knew you could do it~" He coos, making your heart flutter as he places a kiss to the back of your neck; wrapping his arms up under yours and holding your shoulders. "My little doll~" His sudden quicker pace makes you scream, hands back over your mouth and muffling your own noises roughly; tears soaking your fingers.

He laughs breathlessly at your efforts, because you're still loud as all get out even with both hands slapped over your mouth. "Scared to wake the neighbors, princess? Don't want them to know The Joker is all up in your guts~?" He grabs your wrists, pulling them down to your chest and pinning them there.

"Ha-harder!"

Your face meets the pillow before you know up from down; laid flat on your stomach with him pushing your legs open with his own. "Harder," he laughs, "sweet princess already cryin' but wants it harder~? Oh, don't worry~" He pins your wrists down to the either side of your head as he starts pummeling into you; his hips clapping against your ass each time he slams the weight of them down into you. Slow, rhythmic, and the fucking roughest you've ever got. He gives you time to feel the impact of his cock driving into you before he's pulling back out and doing it again.

"Daddy will pound you just how you like it, baby," he pants from above you, eyes wild as he watches you bury your face in the pillow; screaming with each of his brutal thrusts. "Nice and rough for my precious girl~"

"Ah!! Fuck! Fuck!" Comes your muffled, frazzled response. "M'gonna c-"

"Not yet." He growls with a particularly brutal slap of his hips. His bulbous tip stays buried deep, driving you crazy; trying to hump your hips back into him. He lets go of one of your wrists in favor of smacking your ass. The rough sting makes you wail, clenching around him and leaking all over your unmade bed. "I said not yet."

"Whyyyy?" You sob into the pillow, trembling beneath him with your orgasm just a few small drops of pleasure away from spilling over and consuming you.

"Because you're gonna scream my name first."

"Yunho!" You let it tumble out of your lips with not a second thought. "Yunie!"

He hums, pretending to think, "what about 'Daddy'? Try that one for me, doll."

"D-Daddy! Please, keep going!"

"Let me hear... 'Mister J'. You're so sweet when you call me that~"

He's taking maybe a little too much joy in teasing you. Holding your orgasm just out of reach while he coaxes out your tearful voice, grinding against you just enough to keep you hanging right there. Dangling you above the boiling hot ecstasy and keeping it just at your trembling fingertips.

"Ngh-" You swallow thickly, fisting the sheet tightly and kicking your feet in a small tantrum. "You jerk! Let me cum!"

His cock twitches heavily inside of you, a guttural groan bubbling up his throat as that fire he loves about you so much comes out and singes him even when he's fucking you into a pile of tears.

He pins your legs in place with his own, "say it, baby. And I'll let you cum. I'll make you cum as much as you want, my needy girl~"

"Mister J, please~" You moan so sweetly that he starts up his deep, soul shaking thrusts against immediately.

"Good girl~"

His simple praise makes you fall straight into the ecstasy he kept out of reach, a cry breaking off in your throat as you cum so hard that you blank for a few seconds; your entire body shaking like a leaf in the wind as he keeps you pinned to the bed.

"Fuuuuck, that's it, keep milking my cock just like that~" He sucks in a sharp breath as he pulls up your boneless body, letting your shoulders slump against the mattress while he lifts your hips and starts pulling you into his thrusts — going faster.

"Ah, ah, ahh!!" All you can do is moan, drooling into the sheets as your brain gets flooded with entirely too much pleasure for you to handle. "G-ah..." Any and all attempts you make towards forming words falls short, making him grin widely as he pounds into you.

"Poor princess~" He coos in a mix of mockery and comfort, making you drip. "So dumb on Daddy's cock that you can't even speak," his next words each come with a smack to your heated ass cheek, "so damn cute." The squeaks that leave your lips make him want to spank you more. Harder.

He has so much pent up energy. So much bottled up lust. He's been fantasizing about you for months. Fisting his cock while he thought of all the ways he wanted to absolutely wreck you and place you back together just for him.

And now that you're his — it's all coming out. Through his actions, and his words.

He can't help himself. Just like when you were grinding on his lap; all of his darkest thoughts come tumbling out before he can stop them as he holds back his orgasm. Because while his body might be ready to cum, his brain is still urging him to fuck you more. Until you can't breathe.

"Goddamn~" He starts with a pant as he feels your arousal drip down his balls, "you're so wet for me~ Making a damn mess, you needy doll~ Fuck... This messy little cunt is all mine, hmm? I'm the only one who will ever touch you, ain't that right?"

"Y-yeah!" You manage to get enough air in your overworked lungs to respond, slurring and panting more than he is as another wave of mind-numbing pleasure creeps up on you.

"Say it. I wanna hear you say it, princess. 'My pussy belongs to Joker', go on and scream it~" He pushes you back flat on the bed, his hands pressing down on the small of your back to keep you in place as he pounds into you as hard as he can — trying to fuck all of his pent up emotions right into you.

"M- ah! Joker! My p- oh, my god! I'm gonna cum! Please, I'm gonna cum! Don't stop- my pussy belongs to you, Joker! I belong to you! Fucking make me c-cum! Make me cum, Daddy!" You start rambling just as much him; goosebumps rising on your sweaty neck as he snakes a hand between your hips and the bed, squeezing your cunt again.

"Fuck- that's right, baby~" He moans loudly, right by your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. "You're mine. Every fucking part of you. Get to fuck you whenever I damn well want to."

He's panting, his entire body tingling, ears burning as they revel in the sound of your shaky cries of pleasure.

"Make my pretty girl scream for the whole world to hear~ Make them all watch while I fuck you until you're stupid, yeah? Oh, yeah~ You like that, doll?" He coos with a slight tremble in his voice as you start grinding clumsily into his possessive grip on your cunt. "You like it when Daddy tells you all the dirty things he's gonna do with you?"

A string of slurred agreements and begs is all you can muster up, teetering so precariously on the edge that it feels like you may as well be having one long orgasm.

"My perfect girl," he wraps his arm around your shoulders and holds you tightly, blanketing you entirely while he slows his thrusts enough to let you both breathe. When you start whining, urging him to keep going by wiggling your hips, he shushes you softly. "Shhh, none of that. I'm going to fuck you all morning long, okay? But you gotta let me slow down or I'm gonna cum. You even feel how good your pussy is milking me?"

You let out a soft whimper, shaking your head. "Aw~ Poor baby so fucked out she can't even feel her pussy? Just wants to keep cumming and cumming~"

"Uh-huh," you moan into the pillow, hissing from the slight stinging sensation as he pulls out of you slowly. "Noooo, where are you going?"

"Hey, it's okay, princess," he chuckles, "I'm not goin' anywhere. I just want to see you~ Can't let my pretty girls face be stuck in the bed all morning, right?"

"O-okay," you pant, blinking up at him with wide eyes as he turns you over gently.

"Shit," he whistles quietly as he scans you, his cock twitching in the air. He cups your face, manic grin on his lips, and strokes your cheeks with his thumbs. "I really am fucking ruining you, aren't I? Poor girl~"

"It- It's okay," you whisper as you lean into his tender touches, "I'll let you ruin me whenever you want... I like it."

He just about cums untouched as you speak those words. "Y-Yeah?"

"Mhm~ I belong to you, Daddy."

"Fuck-" He crashes his lips onto yours, smooshing your face in his hands. "That's right-" He says before quickly planting another kiss. "Damn fucking right~" He licks up your cheek, wild in his actions. "All mine-" A lick to your other cheek. "My perfect little doll," he smirks down at you, "I'm going to have so much fun with you, princess~ You don't even know~"

The next kiss he lands on your lips is hot. Burning with passion and all-consuming. You're so fuzzy headed from it — from everything — that it takes you a few moments to realize he's pulled away and slapped you.

It was light, testing the waters. Nowhere near as rough as he could be. But it makes your overstimulated cunt twitch nonetheless. "Open your mouth." You're still dazed, catching up to what's happening when he lands a soft slap to your other cheek. "Say 'ah', baby."

You swallow before you open up your mouth, but there's still strings of saliva as you roll out your tongue. "Ahhh~"

"There we go~" He coos as he straddles your hips, fisting his length slowly while he leans over you. "God, I can't wait to fuck this pretty little mouth~" He spits right onto your tongue, making you jump in surprise. He laughs airily, tracing your chest with his free hand as you look up at him in awe and shock. "You're so fucking adorable..." He hums as he looks down at you, stars in his eyes, before spitting again.

"Swallow it." He says, cupping your breast and giving it a squeeze. "Whenever I put something in your mouth, swallow it. Got it? Spit, cum- fucking swallow and open your mouth to show me what a good girl you are."

You're quick to bring your tongue back into your mouth and do as he says — swallow. With a soft moan, you take his spit down your throat before reopening your lips. "Ah?" You hum, searching for his approval.

And he gives it. His cheeks are flushed pink and he's got a shockingly fond smile on his lips. "You're a quick learner, baby~ Good job," the kiss he places on your forehead has you melting. Almost as much as his next words make your heart flutter, "most people would be running for the hills if they heard all the nasty things I wanted to do. But not you, doll... We're a match made in heaven~"

"Not me," you bite at your lip for a moment before you find the courage to ask, "will you tell me more?"

His eyes light up even more, looking up from your chest to meet your eyes. "Yeah?" He whispers, smirk overtaking his smile, "you want to hear what I thought about every night? C'mere-"

You yelp as he suddenly lifts you, wrapping his arms around you tightly and sliding you down on his length as he sits on the edge of your bed. "Ffffuck~" You shiver in his hold as he starts thrusting into you immediately.

"Look at me," he moans, cupping the back of your head and pressing his forehead to yours, "wanna see the look in your eyes when I tell you exactly what I want to do."

"I w- I wanna hear it all, Daddy," you whimper as his girth drags along your overworked g-spot.

"I want to cum inside all of your holes." He dives straight into the deep end, blurting out his fantasy with zero hesitation; eyes locked on yours as they widen slightly. "Your pretty little mouth, perfect fucking pussy-" His jaw tightens a bit as you start meeting his thrusts, "how many people been inside that ass of yours?"

"N-none."

His cock leaks with excitement inside of you, his grip on you tightening. "Fuck, baby- really?" When you nod against his head, he starts thrusting harder.

"Will y-you make it feel good?"

"Fucking christ, doll! You're making me crazy..." His eyes squeeze shut for a moment before they're right back on you, "of course. Of course, baby. I'm going to make your little ass feel so good~ You'll love it, won't you?"

"M'gonna cum-"

"Hold it." He growls, gripping the back of your neck. "I'm not done. I want you to hear about how I want to pin you to the floor and see how hard you'll fight-"

"Ca- holy shit! Can't- I can't hold it!"

He ignores you, slamming his hips up into you while running through his imagination, "I wanna know how much fire you've really got in you. See juuust how far you'll go to try and get away-"

"Yunie!"

"Maybe that's when I'll fuck you in the ass." His vulgar words make you squeeze your eyes shut to try and focus on holding off your impending orgasm. His slap to your cheek makes you open them again, hot tears streaming down your face and getting smeared by his palm. "Thinking about that gonna make you cum? Fuck- It's gonna make me cum~ I can just imagine the pretty cries you'll let out when you realize you can't get away. When I hold you down and make you cum so much you pass out- fuck, it's going to be beautiful~"

You're panting heavily, your entire body is hot, your cunt is tingling. His face is blurry behind your tears, but you can see how excited he is. You feel an unfamiliar twinge in the massive ball of pleasure building up inside of you. One you've only felt once before. "Oh- Fuck- I think m'gonna squirt-" Your words come out in a fast jumble, but he catches every single syllable.

"Do it, pretty girl~ You've earned it~"

"Oh, fuck! Thank you, Yunie, thank you!" You squeal, hugging his neck tightly and keeping your eyes on his until you physically can't — the force of your orgasm slamming into you so roughly that it sends your eyes straight back into your skull, eyelids fluttering shut as pure unadulterated ecstasy rushes through you.

"Fucking perfect..." His whisper of awe, his heart filled eyes as you squirt around him all goes unnoticed as you twitch and tremble in his tight hold.

"Yunho~" Your soft, pleasure drunken whine of his name pushes him off the edge — shoves him, hard. His brain takes over as it floods with dopamine and endorphins. He rolls you both over quickly, thrusting as deep as he can get while he pins you to the bed with his body; hugging your head to his chest.

"My princess. All fucking mine. Take it, take it, baby-" His voice breaks into a loud moan, a full body twitch running through him as he cums inside of you; filling you with warmth from the inside out.

You cling to him tightly: head buried away from the world in the comfort of his chest, sore legs spread wide for him, soft sniffs and whines meeting his pleasured hums.

"You're so good for me, love," his voice is almost a purr as he holds you tightly, "my precious doll. I'll never let you go."

"Y- You better not."

ꕥ

"Hey, pretty girl~ Needa' ride?"

The car pulls up right next you, music blasting.

Yunho smirks as he sees you instinctively reach for the knife he knows you keep in your jacket before you register that it's him; a grin making its way to your lips.

You lean your arms on the rolled down window, popping your gum. "Cash, grass, or ass?"

He simply chuckles, reaching over and opening up the door for you. "Come on, doll-face."

You slide into the car, leaning over the center to give him a kiss, "missed you, Mister J~" It's not even been twenty-four hours — more about ten. He had left late in the night after he got a text, saying he had to 'grab' something and that he'd pick you up in the morning.

So, here you are.

"Missed you back, baby," he hums, cupping the side of your neck to pull you into another quick, hot kiss. He hates to pull away, but he does anyway. It's a big day ahead; and he wants to get right on with it. "Buckle up."

"Ironic," you giggle as you pull on your seatbelt, the car already speeding, "don't think I've ever seen you wear your seatbelt."

"Hm," he pouts as he thinks, before shrugging with a laugh. "Probably not!"

You grab his cigarettes as he points to them, sliding one out carefully. "Where we off to, J?" You ask as you place it between his lips, leaning over to light it for him.

He takes a long inhale before blowing the smoke into the rushing cold air; the winter air whipping through the car. "Surprise~ Don't worry, you'll like it."

"How do you know?"

"I just do~ Call it a gut feeling." His hand finds its rightful place on your inner thigh, rubbing his thumb over your skin softly. "This skirt is pretty on you, wear it more for me~"

"Uh-huh, if you say s-" As he stops at a red light, the song happens to change at the same time; and something else reaches your ears. Muffled screaming and banging from the trunk. "Yunho?"

"What's up, princess?"

"Do you have someone in the trunk?"

"Yup~" He beams as he turns up the music, "don't mind him. It's not a long ride."

You stare at him for a moment. Clearly to ask 'what the fuck?' "Who's back there?"

"No one important," he tosses his cigarette butt out the window before rolling them up and turning the vent toward you. "You cold, baby?"

"A little bit- wait, wait! We aren't moving on that fast. The fuck is going on?"

"Don't you worry about that, love," he smiles over at you, "you trust me, right?"

You think, only for a split second. "Of course, Yunie."

ꕥ

The wear-house by the river clearly hasn't been in business for a long time. The only sign of life for miles is Yunho, running over to open the car door for you.

"C'mon, doll," he takes your hand, all but pulling you back to the trunk. "Are you ready?"

You don't really know. You have no idea what — who to expect when he opens the trunk. "Yeah, I guess so..." You trail off as he pushes it open, eyes going wide. "Holy shit." You whisper. "Holy shit!" You slap a hand over your mouth as you laugh; looking between him and the fearful man who's bound with tape in his trunk.

"You goddamn crazy fuck," you grab his neck and pull him down into a deep kiss. Mumbling into his lips as his hands find your waist, you find a wide smile spreading on your features, "you did this for me?"

"I'd do anything for you, doll~" He hums softly, reaching over without looking away from you and shoving the man back into the trunk as he tries to clumsily crawl out. "I told you that you'd have his heart in a gift basket, no~? I figured why have all the fun myself, I should let my girl have some, too."

In the trunk is none other than Earnest Holmes; the man who you hate more than anything. "This is the best gift I've ever received, Mister J~ How could I ever repay you?"

"Let me help you with whatever plans you've got running through that pretty little head~"

"Deal." You land another kiss to his lips before turning quickly, your pocket knife pulled in a second flat and the tip of it against Holmes' throat; making the man still.

"I bet you don't even remember me." He shakes his head violently. "No?" You press the sharp stainless steel into his skin, a single pinprick made in his neck. You don't want him dead just yet. "I'll give you a hint..."

Yunho leans over, joining you in crowding the terrified man; your shadows looming over him.

"My momma gave you that nasty scar on your back. She got you real good." You laugh as his eyes widen, "mhm~ Ringing a bell?"

Yunho rests a hand on the small of your back, the look in his eyes basically already gutting Holmes. If looks could kill, he'd be dead twice over. Once from you, and another from The Joker resurrecting him just to do it again himself.

"I'm going to do so much more than she did. I'm going to kill you. But not before Mister J and I have a fucking field day making you suffer."

The man yells behind the tape on his mouth as you twirl the knife before driving it straight into his thigh.

"Let's get him inside, baby," Yunho grins wildly, basking in the unbridled fire in your eyes as you look up at him, "we can take our time with this worm."

You yank your blade from Holmes' leg, staring down at the blood on the steel. You're usually queasy around gore. But now? You're thinking of all the ways you and Yunho can hurt him.

You appreciate that he hasn't asked just exactly what the man has done. Because if you tried to explain it at the moment, you'd end up stabbing Holmes more fatally. And he doesn't deserve a quick end.

You move out of the way, letting his blood drip off your knife; which you keep a death grip on — just incase you change your mind and decide that you want to stab him in the throat.

Yunho doesn't have any trouble yanking the man up, dropping him to the dirt with a glare. It softens when he looks to you, and it's back to pure hatred as he looks back down at Holmes. He doesn't know the details — but he doesn't have to. All he has to know is this man has harmed and disrespected you.

He scoffs at the mans sniveling, grabbing him by the ankles and dragging him through the dirt towards the warehouse. "Watch your head." He smirks as he pulls the man up the concrete steps, making his head thud against them.

You have a slight grin making its way back to your lips as you follow, running to pull the large sliding door open for him. "Well, thank you, baby~" He pecks your head as he passes, kicking the man in his injured leg as he tries to use his bound hands to grab at your ankles. "Hands off, fuck-face, or I'll cut them off."

You slide the door shut behind you as he pulls the man up and shoves him into the chair in the middle of the empty space. One look around the desolate building tells you that it's far from the first time The Joker has used it for this purpose. Between the blood stained wooden chair and the work desk of instruments of pain; this seems to be his second office.

By the time you've finished scanning the large, near empty room, Yunho has Holmes hand-cuffed to the arms of the chair.

You toss your knife onto the stained workbench, stalking over to them as Yunho leans back against the metal wall. "What you got planned, pretty girl?"

You grab the edge of the duct tape on Holmes' mouth, pulling it off slowly. "Let's hear him try to explain himself." Half-way across, you yank it; making him yell.

"You fucking bitch-"

Before Yunho can even jump to strangle the man for daring to insult you — you slap the man. Hard. Hard enough for it to snap his head to the side and for the sound to echo a few times.

"Do you think you're in any position to be insulting me?" You huff a laugh, "you should be begging for mercy, you worthless piece of shit." He's silent, looking at the floor. "You think you're too good for that? Hm..." You pout towards Yunho, sarcasm laced in your voice, "he thinks he's better than me, Mister J."

He pushes off the wall with a wild grin, "oh, that won't do~" Holmes groans as he yanks his head up by his hair, making the man face you. "Maybe, if you play nice," he whispers to him, "my girl will make it quick."

He knows that you won't. But Holmes doesn't.

"Listen..." He starts slowly, breaths shaky, "your mother-" He hesitates when you take a step forward. "Your mother... she was just- I d- Fuck, what do you want me to say!?"

"Tell me why you chose her."

Yunho yanks his hair again when he takes too longer to answer.

"Because she was pretty."

Your jaw tightens. "I've decided what I want to do first, Yunie."

"What's that, baby?"

"Do you know how to gouge someone's eyes out?"

He shoves the man's head as he lets go, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and showing you to the workbench. "I'll teach ya'."

ꕥ

You let out a soft sigh, leaning into Yunho's side after he wraps his long coat around your shoulder. "Thank you, Yunho..."

You're both sitting on the edge of the dock, legs dangling. It's only a few hours later, but it feels like a life time has passed. Some of the things you did — you didn't even know you were capable of.

"Anything for you, love."

And he's proved that. Absolutely anything for you. He had washed his hands in the river after carving out the heart of a man who had wronged you — there was probably nothing he wouldn't do.

It sits next to you in a wicker basket that he handed you with a kiss.

You had helped him roll the dead, weighed down man into the water and watched him sink with a feeling of cathartic release sinking down on you.

"He stalked my mother for three weeks." You start with a whisper, "and then he broke into our house. Killed my pops first when he tried to protect us. And... she tried to fight him off, stabbed him in the back. But it wasn't enough. Police said it was random- home invasion gone sideways. They didn't have any records of him stalking her because they said they couldn't do anything until he actually hurt her. What kind of ass backwards bullshit is that?"

He's angry for you. He could tell by the way you talked about it that it has been weighing on you for a long time. He sighs, rubbing your shoulder softly, "I'm sorry, baby. The world is an unfair place, we have to make our own justice... Do you feel better now that he's gone?"

"It doesn't change what he did. But... for some reason? I do."

"Good. He deserved every single thing we did to him and more. If there's a hell, I'll find him there and continue his punishment."

You chuckle quietly, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Maybe I do owe him a single thanks."

"Mh? What for?"

"After my parents passed, my aunt and uncle took me in. Hongjoong's parents. And when he opened The Riddle Room, he gave me a job there. And, in a fucked up kind of way, that lead me to you."

He breathes a small chuckle, "sentimental already, doll?"

"Oh, screw you," you laugh, shoving his shoulder with yours.

He pulls you closer to his side, smiling down at the water that now houses your first kill — right next to his.

ꕥ

"Yes, princess?" Yunho leans back, taking his lollipop stick out of his mouth to speak into the phone.

It's about a week later. A week of officially being his. And while he would absolutely love if it were the case — you don't spend every second by his side. He has business to attend to that he would rather not mix you up in, and you have your college work to focus on now that you've officially quit working for Riddler.

"Hey, Yunho," your frazzled voice makes his heart drop, "are you busy?"

"What's wrong? Where are you?" He asks quickly, chewing on the stick while waiting for your response; impatient.

"Uhm, I'm just at my apartment, but," you trail off for a moment, "sorry, is this a bad time? I can- I know you're working, I can call back later."

"No, it's okay. What's going on, doll?"

He's ready to drop everything for you.

"Some asshole ran into the gas pipe across the street and now my whole apartment building is turning into a damned freezer. I hate to ask but, uhm," you clear your throat. He can tell you're nervous even over the phone. "I don't really have anywhere else to go until it gets fixed, my aunt lives all the way in Arkham and Hong is still a little butthurt- the maintenance lady said it should only be a few days!"

"You can stay with me, baby," he doesn't even hesitate. Honestly, he's relieved it wasn't something worse. His mind immediately went to the worst case scenarios. What if Bullock was following you? What if someone saw you dump the body with him? What if one of his rivals h-

"Really?" Your elated voice rings from the speaker, "oh, thank you, Yunie! I promise I won't be trouble."

"Hm, why not? That's what I like about you, doll-face," he smiles as your chuckle comes through.

"Oh, shut up," you huff a laugh, "you gonna pick me up or should I come to your office?"

"I'll pick ya' up, pack whatever you need," he pulls the phone away to check the time, "I'll be there in an hour, try to stay warm, yeah?"

"Yeah- thank you so much, Mister J."

"You know I'll do anything for you, princess."

He slips his phone into his pocket and takes the lollipop stick back into the side of his mouth. "Sorry," he looks up to the gagged man who's currently tied up on the chair, "had to take that. You don't mind, right~?"

The man shivers as The Joker pulls his leather glove back on, picking up the pliers he had sat down to answer your call.

"Now, let's hurry this along. My girl needs me."

ꕥ

"So..." You trail off as you look around the apartment slowly. "This is the infamous Joker's home."

It's shockingly normal. Nice. Small and cozy. It's clear he doesn't spend a a lot of time here, but he still cares for it.

"Home sweet home," he chuckles as he unzips your large jacket, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, "get comfy, baby-doll, I'll turn on the heat."

"Thank you, J," you cup his cheek softly as he goes to turn around, stopping him. "Really, thank you. I'd be freezing my ass off if not for you."

The way he absolutely melts into your touch doesn't go unnoticed. It never does — you always notice. You have since the beginning. Or, at least since you stopped being afraid of him. You realized he needs touch just as desperately as you.

"Well, we can't have that~" He jokes to break the intense staring contest, kissing your palm softly, "gotta take care of my girl."

"I'm gonna get spoiled if you keep this up-"

"Good." He shrugs, turning and disappearing deeper into the apartment, "my princess deserves only the best!"

You shake your head with a smile overtaking your lips, taking off your jacket and hanging it next to his coat. "How long have you lived in this part of the city?"

It's right in the middle of the upper and lower parts. Probably so he can get around quicker.

"Couple years," he calls back to you, joining you in the open living area; cigarette resting unlit in his lips. "How long you been in your neighborhood?"

"Couple years," you mimic him as you investigate the living room from your spot next to him.

He swipes up the lighter on his short coffee table and lights the cigarette as he falls onto the fabric couch. "Don't be so shy," he says before he inhales deeply, slumping as the nicotine fills his lungs. "What's mine is yours~"

You drop your bag on the floor and all but jump onto the couch next to him. He props his feet up on the table, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as you snuggle into his side; hugging his torso. "That's more like it," he laughs softly as you fold your legs under you.

Almost polar opposites in the way you sit — it's kind of amusing. He's spread out, taking up his space and leaning his head back against the cushion as he smokes. You're curled up on his side; in his space more than your own, head pressed to his chest as you listen to his deep inhalations.

"Did you have a good day at work?" You ask softly, knowing that he's not going to answer. He never does. But you always ask anyway.

"Hm," he toys with your hair softly, humming amused at your insistence of asking. He's not going to tell you that he spent the day sending a message to a rival drug dealer by torturing his runner. "How was your school work? How's my pretty genius gettin' along?"

You smile into his chest, pressing closer.

You suddenly don't mind that the gas heating in your apartment is broken. You like it here, with him.

ꕥ

"I can't believe you were serious." You set the stuffed animal back down on the corner of his bed, giggling as he pulls off your pants.

His bed is big and warm and so comfortable you find yourself wanting to never leave.

"I told you," he shrugs with a smile, "I like to snuggle."

"I guess you did, yeah, just a bit shocking." You smile back as he leans over, pecking your lips as he pulls the pajama bottoms he had gotten out of your bag over your legs.

"Why?" He asks between soft kisses left across your face, his hands sliding under your sweater to caress your waist.

Both of you now dressed warm and ready for bed, it's possibly the most cozy you've ever been as he hovers over you, peppering your skin in light smooches.

"You have a reputation, you know?" He leans into your touch as you reach up and push back his hair. "My Mister J~"

His face would probably be unreadable to anyone else. But, for some reason, you can see past his calm features — you can see into his mind through the smallest flicks of his eyes as he scans your face.

"Are you still afraid of me?"

He asks it so softly that you nearly miss it; like he's scared of the answer he might get. He doesn't need to be, though.

"Why would I be?"

He sits to straddle you, bringing his hands out from your sweater to find yours. Lacing your fingers together, he says, "I'm not a good man."

You wrap your fingers in his, never letting your eyes leave his. "You're good to me."

A smile tugs the corner of his lips. "I've killed."

"So have I." You tilt your head as you look up at him, "do you think I'd leave over something so trivial?"

He laughs at your choice of words, a short huff of amusement. Trivial. Like it doesn't matter. Like you don't mind the blood that stains his very being.

Looking down at you — he can tell it doesn't.

You're holding his hands despite their tainted nature.

"I'm not afraid of you. I bare my neck to you because I know you could kill me... but you choose not to."

You're getting blurry. His cheeks are wet.

Is there a leak —

You force one of your hands from his grasp and cup his cheek, wiping his tears. "Yunho-"

"I love you." It comes in a quick breath, like it was squeezed out of his throat. Like he doesn't want you to catch the confession.

But in the quiet of his bedroom, in the intimate moment; of course you do.

Your face softens, eyebrows pushing together slightly, pupils widening.

"I love you." Again, louder this time. "Please-" He leans over you, hiding his face in the crook of your shoulder, "you can't-" His brain isn't working properly. He's blinking rapidly, trying to rid the troublesome tears before he gives up and squeezes his eyes shut.

When was the last time he cried? It had to have been years. Not since he was a boy.

"I'm not going anywhere, Mister J," you whisper as he wraps his arms around you tightly; holding you like you'll disappear any second. "You can't get rid of me that easy~"

You smile as he chuckles quietly into your shoulder, rubbing up and down his back slowly. "Guess I'm stuck with you~" He jokes right back, his voice heavy with his tears.

It's definitely... strange to see the man who you once thought was nothing but chaos crumble like a house of cards as he leans into your touches. You can't find it in yourself to care, however.

He isn't The Joker right now. He's yours.

"Stay with me, baby..."

"Of course, Daddy."

ꕥ

You decide to flip the script on him in the morning whenever you find that you've woke up before him.

"Mh, Yunie?" You moan sleepily as he presses closer to you with a deep groan. You think he might be awake, the way he's pressing his hard-on into your behind while pulling your back more securely to his chest.

But when you turn in his arms, you find his peacefully sleeping face: his lips parted by his gentle breaths, his hoodie over his messy hair, completely content as he rests. Completely — besides the bulge in his sweatpants that he's still trying to press against you subconsciously; a soft whine in his throat when he can't find your ass.

You spend a second to look at him.

He strangely... pretty. The perfect mix of sharp features and round. Just like his personality. Well — towards you, at least.

"Babyyy," he groans in his sleep, you can see his eyes flicking slowly behind his lids.

He did it to you, so you may as well return the favor.

You carefully push him to his back, kicking the blankets off of you in the process, "I'll take care of you, Daddy." You whisper with a kiss to his jaw before crawling down.

You pull his sleep pants and boxers down past his hips, gulping as you get your first good look at his length.

You've never seen one that you would call mouthwatering. They do say never say never for a reason; because you are salivating at the sight of his hard inches.

No wonder he feels so good inside of you. He's just a little too thick for your fingers to wrap all the way around as you softly grasp his base. His tip is leaking, slightly flushed. The vein running down the side looks like it throbs ever so slightly. He has a freckle, near the tip.

His breath hitches as you kiss the freckle. You smile before you trace over the pronounced vein with the tip of your tongue. You catch a taste of his pre-cum and moan quietly, closing your eyes while you swirl your tongue around his head slowly.

The little sounds he's making are making you ridiculously wet for how early in the morning it must be.

You situate yourself a bit better, laying between his legs as he spreads them and bucks his hips subconsciously. With a hum, you lean back down and start kissing along his length; soft, opened mouth smooches echoing in the quiet apartment with his deep moans and whines.

His hand finds the top of your head as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, just resting there heavily.

When he slowly opens his eyes a few moments later, he blinks up at the ceiling as his waking brain catches up to all of the pleasure that's coming from your warm mouth wrapped around the first inches of his painfully hard cock. He looks down quickly, meeting your eyes as you slowly pull away from his length.

"Good morning, Daddy-"

"Are you suckin' my dick?" His voice is raspy with sleep and pleasure; you can feel your panties stick to your lips with slickness.

"Mhm," you hum while kissing back down his length, chuckling as his head falls back to the pillow.

"Fuck, doll-" He huffs, biting his lip as you go even further down and kiss his balls. When you suck a bit, he hisses, pulling your head closer, "again."

You take one of the globes into your mouth, suckling tenderly and rolling your tongue along the taut skin. "God-" He slumps into the bed, bringing his arm over his eyes as he laughs airily.

You let go with a soft pop, licking up the underside of his length.

"Oh, you're gonna make me crazy, love," his chuckle makes your clit throb, and you almost want to give up on making him cum in your mouth when he looks down at you again. Eyelids heavy with sleep, pupils wide with lust, his chest rising and falling a bit quickly.

"You want me to stop, Daddy?"

His cock twitches next to your face, calling your attention. You slide your hand up the length with the help of your spit, making his eyes roll back from the slow motion. "I'll fucking choke you on my cock if you try to stop, pretty baby."

"Will you do it anyway?" You tease with a twist of your wrist while going back down his member.

"Open," he growls while gripping your head with both his hands, pushing you down toward him, "open wide, princess."

He shoves you down on his length until you gag — not even half way down but stuffing your mouth entirely. Your throat contracting around the very tip of his cock makes a loud moan spill past his lips; especially because it's paired with your warm hand working up and down on the rest of his length. "Goddamn, I could cum just like this~"

You grab onto his hip as he starts thrusting into the entrance to your throat, making you sputter and gag each time. "Mh~" His eyes flutter shut as he pulls you along his girth, your sounds and your messy spit making his heart race just as much as the heat of your tongue and the soft muscles of your throat trying to reject him.

You try to relax around his cock, but the feeling is so foreign that it forces you to pull away with a gasping breath, heaving as he laughs. "You okay, sweet girl?"

Your response is to start leaving sloppy kisses on his wet cock as you catch your breath, making his back arch slightly. "I might not be able to take you," you say with a pout as you look up, cradling his balls in your palm.

"Aw~" He coos as he pushes himself up, leaning to kiss your head, "yes, you will, doll. That's what training is for."

"You think so?" You ask innocently while you stroke his member quickly; filling the room with lewd shlicks.

He curses under his breath, eyebrows pinching together, "I'll make you take it, baby. I'll make it fit. Even if you pass out, if you can't talk for a few days — I'm going to make your throat fit me perfectly, just like I will to all of your little holes~"

"Shit-" It's your turn to curse, leaning up to kiss him as you continue with your smooth movements. "Do you promise?" You whisper against his lips, "promise you'll make me yours?"

"You already are."

You were his the moment he laid eyes on you. You just didn't know it yet.

He wraps his arms around you tightly, lifting you up into his lap as he sits on the edge of the bed; his cock twitching between you at the loss of your touch when you wrap your arms around his neck. "I am?"

"Don't you fucking doubt it, pretty girl~ You're mine. Every little piece of you: every bone in your body, every hair on your pretty little head, every smile and every tear. All of it belongs to me. Ain't that right, doll?"

You smile as you slide your hands down his chest, almost shy. "That's right, Mister J~" You yip a moan as he slaps your ass, smirking as he rubs the sore cheek through your pajamas.

"Mhm, good girl~ Hey, look at me," he pinches your chin delicately and tilts your head up to meet his gaze, "I'm yours. Just as much as you belong to me, I belong to you. Your name may as well be carved on my very soul. Tell me you understand."

"I understand, Yunie." And as strange as it might seem — you truly do. You've read stories of all-consuming love. Once in a lifetime meant to be type of love.

Yunho is yours. And you're his.

"We belong to each other," you grin as you let your hands trail down his stomach, watching his eyes flick across every inch of your face; committing each detail to memory before his eyes close as you wrap your hand around his cock again. Warm skin almost searing against the cooling spit as you jerk him off nice and slow.

"Ah~" He pants quietly, taking his lip between his teeth as he looks down, "fucking christ, baby..." He laughs from the back of his throat, fingers digging into your shoulders to stop himself from cumming. "Oh, oh, fuck- Your hand is so small around my cock, look at that~"

You press your heads together as you look down, watching your hand slide up and down on his slick length. "You're just so big, J~" You giggle with him, your free hand going to the back of his head and your fingers wrapping up in his hair now that his hoodie has fallen. "So big and pretty," you hum with a lick of your lips.

"F- you think I'm pretty?" He just about cums then and there when you say —

"The most handsome man in Gotham, cock included-"

"Get on your knees," he says quickly, spreading his legs and helping you fall to do exactly what he says. You push up your sleeves as he rids himself completely of his sweatpants and boxers. "You like my dick, princess?" He smirks as you nod up at him quickly. "Kiss it."

He leans his weight back on his hands, letting you take control as you dive back in with zero hesitation, kissing up his thigh quickly as you settle between his legs. A hum of approval rumbles in his throat as you kiss up his length — indecent, wet, smooches echoing in the sex-heavy air.

"Mhm~ Th- oh, that's it, love," his hands twitch in the messy blankets. He wants to grab you and skull fuck you so badly. But, he's also absolutely floating at the feeling of your lips all over him. "That's my girl," his sweet, pleasure soaked voice makes you whine quietly as your heat gains a heartbeat, "make out with Daddy's cock, show me how much you love it~"

You pant softly as you travel further down, back at his balls; sending a shiver up his spine as you start kitten licking them. "Fuck!" He brings a hand to his mouth, biting his finger as your hand starts giving his shaft attention while you lick and kiss below it.

"Oh," he pants a laugh, feeling his orgasm snowballing in his gut slowly, "I'm going to fuck you so hard you forget your own name~ Not gonna be a single thought in that pretty head of yours when I'm done with you... Fuck you right back to sleep, baby," his hand finds your head no matter how hard he tries to keep it to himself; his head rolling back as you take both of his balls into your mouth. "You want that? Want me to stick my cock in that cute little cunt while it's covered in your slobber?"

Your hum of agreement vibrates through him, making him gasp; the leaking pre-cum from his tip quickly worked into his length as you stroke him.

"Ah, yeah, you do~ My needy doll," he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, finding himself drooling from the sight of your blissfully closed eyes while you lap at the base of his cock; your hand faithful in its pace higher up. "Fuck... You're so pretty, baby."

The way he said it is so sweet compared to the absolute mess you're making on his member; your sloppy licks and kisses leaving him glistening with spit.

"Open your mouth." And the second you do, he's back inside of it. But instead of fucking back into your throat — he's pressing his tip into your cheek, making it bulge out and filling your face with heat even more than before when he reaches and cups it softly.

He doesn't take his eyes off of you, guiding your head with one hand on the back of your head and the other on your cheek. "My pretty girl~" His gentle slap to your puffy cheek makes both of you moan. "Shit-" He laughs, eyebrows raised slightly as he looks down at you, your hand sneaking into your bottoms, "aww, poor princess~"

He coos with a series of quick, light slaps, "you getting worked up, angel?" He pulls out of your mouth to let you answer, fisting his length roughly. You take in a gasp, rubbing your fingers along your slit faster as the new nickname soaks into your brain.

"M'so wet, Daddy..." You plead as you look up at him with unshed tears, "please- I wanted to make you cum in my mouth but I can't take it, I can't take it anymore, please fuck me?"

"Take your pants off. Let me see how wet you got from making out with my cock~"

You fall into your ass so quickly that he chuckles at your eagerness, pushing back his messy hair in his free hand as he slows his fist on his length. His ears start blushing after you shove your pants away and scramble back a bit before spreading your legs.

You're so fucking wet that the baby blue of your panties is near translucent where it clings to your pussy lips. Your fingers glide over the fabric easily as you circle your clit. "Please, Yunie?"

"Get up here before I fuck you on the floor."

You're on the bed before he even blinks, pulling your sweater off and leaving you in nothing but the soaked underwear. "How do you want me-"

"I'll put you how I want you, how about that?" He grins widely as he pulls you to the middle of the bed, throwing you onto your stomach, "put that pretty little ass in the air for me~"

You land with a moan, immediately pulling your knees up and arching your back; ass in the air just like he asked. "Hurryyy-" You yelp into the bed in surprise as he spanks you. Once, twice, and then his mouth is wrapped around the dripping center of your panties, making you wail, "Daddy!!"

"Hm?" He moans, sucking at your cunt through the fabric and making you cry into the sheets.

"Pu-" You huff, grabbing at his pillow as he all but nuzzles your desperate heat, "pleaseee, make me cum..."

"Ah," he nips your thigh, "since you asked so nicely~" He yanks your panties down, letting them rest around your knees as he impatiently laps at your hot slit.

"Oh, so good~" You slur at his raw movements, each lick and suck he makes filled to the brim with unbridled lust.

He smacks your ass at the same time he takes your clit between his lips, sucking harshly. "Ah! Gonna cum! D- don't stop!"

And of course, he'll be doing no such thing. When he nips at your bundle of nerves and lands another open palmed hit to your cheek, your hips stutter as you gush all over the bridge of his nose. "Ah, you son of a bitch! Oh, fuck! Fuuuck~"

There you go again, making his dick twitch with want as you curse at him; backing your cunt into his face as you work through your peak.

"Mmf~" You groan as you fall flat, face buried in his pillow and soaking it with tears, "s'good, Daddy..."

He crawls up, flipping you over with a smirk, "needy little doll, I barely got to eat you out~"

"M'sorry, you're so good at it," you hum dizzily, melting under his touch as his hand slides up your side.

"Aww, it's okay," he pecks your lips as he grabs the base of his cock, lining up with you, "I know my poor angel was so worked up~"

He slams into you, making your back arch and your jaw drop; eyes squeezing shut while your hands scramble for purchase. "Oh- my god!! Fucking fuck- fuck you, you fucker!" He laughs into your neck, kissing softly while giving your fluttering walls time to adjust. "Holy shit, Yunie..."

"Shhh," he pecks below your ear, licking up slowly until he takes the lobe between his teeth; feeling you clench around him. He tugs ever so slightly, making you gulp forcefully. "You like that, baby?"

"Yeah-" You let out a puffed breath, sniffling as he start to thrust slowly. And you can't help the squeak that comes either when he licks across your ear with his hot, flattened tongue. "More!"

Whether you mean more for your heated ear or gushing pussy — he gives it to you.

One of his hands finds your neck, squeezing and caressing as he makes out with your ear; the filthy noises literally right in your ear. The other grips your waist, keeping you still as he pounds his hips into yours rhythmically.

"Ngh~" You can only manage a few small, pathetic, sounds as his tip assaults your g-spot, "I lo- oh~"

His head perks up from beside you, hovering over you in a split second; hips never stilling. "What, doll?"

You grab onto his shoulders tightly, locking eyes with him even as tears blur your vision.

"I love y-you, Yunho."

He stuffs your mouth with his tongue the second you finish your sentence, hammering into you mercilessly as you squeal and suck at his tongue while he explores every inch he can reach.

Both of his hands find your neck, grounding you in place physically and mentally as he pounds you to another plane of existence. Fucking you like he hates your guts, he pulls back with stars in his eyes —

"Say it again."

"I l- I love you, Yunho!" You stutter out, sobbing below him from the rush of pleasure and emotional relief you've gotten from blurting out your feelings.

"Oh, I love you, princess," he moans as he cups your teary cheeks, rubbing under your eyes with his thumbs, gently — like he's not rearranging your insides. "I fucking love you. I'll go to the goddamn ends of t-the Earth for you. All you have to say-"

"Please, Daddy!!"

"That's right- ah, that's right, baby~ Shh, shhh," he smiles manically as you start hiccuping, throbbing and clenching around him, "I got you, shh, I got you... You just let yourself go, my dumb little angel~"

You cry loudly, pulling him down by his hoodie and burying your face in his shoulder, "m'g- uh!"

"I know, sweetie~ I know, feels so good, right?" He wraps his arms around your head, pausing briefly to hook one of his legs over yours for leverage before starting up his animalistic pace again. "You can cum, baby. You don't have to wait-"

"Ahh! Fuck you- thank you! Fuck, thank you!" You scream into his shoulder as your brain starts short circuiting, your legs trembling below his.

"Mh," he bites his lip, holding you close tightly as you convulse with your release; so much so that he has to pin you to the bed with his body so you'll stop jerking your hips over his member — which is dangerously close to cumming.

But he's not done making you cum and cry yet. "One more." He growls simply before resuming his movements, thrusting and grinding into you so deeply that you see stars. "Come here," he groans, pushing your head back to the bed with his hand around your neck, "open your mouth."

You drop your jaw with a shaky 'ah', rolling out your tongue. He spits right onto it, watching you with dark eyes as you quickly swallow it and put your tongue back out.

"Good girl, you remembered~" He squeezes your neck as he leans down, hips slowly slightly as he presses his tongue to yours and groans with satisfaction.

It's unclear if this is kissing, but it kind of feels like it. Your lips don't touch, but your tongues are all over each other as he rolls his hips into you.

His tongue slips away from yours, going up your heated cheek slowly and gathering up all of your salty tears. Your noises have him going deeper, rougher. Every sniffle and gasp and moan makes him try to thrust further into you and get more out of you.

"You gonna cum for me again, princess? Can you take it?"

"I d- uh! I dunno know," you shake your head with a loud whine, "f-fuck, feels too good!"

"You can take it~" He chuckles breathlessly, rubbing his thumbs on the sides of your throat while he chokes a broken moan out of you. "My girl can take it," he leaves a trail of kisses down your jaw, fingers tightening around your neck. "If you really want me to stop, slap the shit out of me, okay, baby?"

You only let out another whine, grabbing the sheets tightly.

"Hey." He slams his hips into you one more time, lodging himself deep and staying there as he slides his hands up and cups your face. "If you want me to stop, fucking slap me. That will tell me you really can't handle it. Okay?"

"Yes, Daddy," you whimper quietly as his cock twitches inside of you, his knuckles stroking your cheek softly.

"Say it back to me, I want to know you understand before we continue."

You lean into his touches, blinking your teary eyes to try and see him clearly, "if I want you to stop, I'll slap you."

"Good girl~" He pats your cheek softly before slapping you, his hips grinding into you again in the next second and knocking your brains hardwiring loose from the mix of stimulation. "Knew you could take more- this little pussy can't get enough of me, can it?"

He huffs a laugh as you gasp in response, forcing himself to pull out. There's so many positions he wants to try with you, he can't let himself stick to one.

You slump on the messy bed, panting to catch your breath as he pulls off his hoodie. "Fuck, angel," he chuckles, rubbing your trembling thighs softly, "you got me working up a sweat... come here~"

You don't have much choice as he pulls you down the bed until your hips hang off the edge, shaky feet planted on the floor. "Where are you goin'?" You pout as he stands, wiping your face as you look up at him.

"Nowhere at all, pretty girl~ I'm gonna stay right here and make you cum the rest of your brains out."

You breathe sharply as he plunges three of his fingers into your messy hole, curling them right into your g-spot. "Ohhh, fuck! Why, why, why- give me your cock, Daddy!"

"I don't want to cum yet," he hums nonchalantly, smirk growing on his lips as you press your legs together, shoving at his hand as you start sobbing all over again. "I want you to be completely stupid when I stuff you full of my cum."

"Yunie!!"

"Baby~" He mimics you, leaning one of his knees on the bed as he hovers over you, "you gonna be a good messy doll and squirt?"

"Ah! Ah! Please!"

"C'mon, love," he pins you to the bed by your throat, leaving your fidgeting useless, "one more for me, you can do it-"

"I can't! I can't! I c- cumming!"

He watches in a twisted awe as your jaw slacks and your eyes roll back into your head, your legs tensing up as you squirt with every thrust of his fingers. A broken whine leaves your throat as you droop into the bed, your feet hit the floor again with a thud. The splash as he pulls his fingers out makes you hide your face in your arms, sniveling as he licks his hand clean.

"One more."

You groan as he turns your boneless body onto your side, wailing as he slowly slips his member back into you. "Daddy! I al- I already did! That was one more!"

"Hm?" He pretends to think, bending over you and placing his hands on either side of you; admiring your side profile as he sinks balls deep into you. "No? I don't think I said that~"

"Y-you didn't? I though-"

"Shhh," he laughs softly, petting your head as you pout, "I did, princess. I did say that, I'm just playing with you~"

"You play meannn~ My brain isn't workin' right now," you bite your lip as he starts his thrusts slowly.

"Good," he lays his chest across your side, making sure your hands are free before he starts hammering into your over-sensitive cunt. "Then I can fill you up now~"

You slap at the bed, fist the sheets tightly, but you never come towards him — because the pinch of pain that comes with the mind-numbing pleasure is just as delicious. Even if your body doesn't seem to agree, trying to flatten yourself and get away.

"Where the f-fuck you think you're going?" He hums, wrapping an arm under your leg and gripping your thigh tightly; pulling you into his barbaric thrusts. "You said you wanted my cock, so just lay there and take it, sweet girl~"

You stutter out the start to ten different pleads at one, babbling nonsense as he digs into you with the all new angle. You grab at everything you can reach, eventually reaching one of the pillows and clutching it to your chest; hiding your face in it as you scream and cry. He's really, officially fucked your brains out and you are a-fucking-okay with it.

And so is he, dangling himself over the edge and slowing down whenever he gets too close to tumbling over because he still wants more. He wants to watch you hug his pillow as you shake with the overwhelming pleasure forever. But in the end, he's still just a mortal man and you still feel fucking heavenly as your walls tremble around him.

He pulls out for only the second it takes to shove you onto your back; already slipping back in as your head falls flat on the mattress. He pulls the pillow from your death grip and slots himself in your arms instead, letting you hold him tightly as he ruts into you. He wraps his arms under yours and grabs your shoulders, anchoring you in place.

"Poor baby, look at you~" He kisses up the tears that have slipped down to your neck. "Oh, god, look at you..." He says again, trailing off in a low moan. "You're so perfect."

You can barely recognize that he's speaking to you, head lolling side to side; feeling completely empty. "Daddyyy~" You manage to slur as you dig your nails into his back, your hips still turning this way and that to get way from his unrelenting thrusts.

"Mh- fuck! Stop s-squirming, pretty girl," he pants as he leans to your ear, "you ready to take my cum?"

"Yeah!" You huff out, voice dripping with tears and overwhelming ecstasy.

He doesn't have to say anything else, and he can't anyway — too busy gasping for air as his orgasm knocks it all out of his lungs.

Your soft whimpers are the only thing grounding him to Earth. His grip on your shoulder is so tight that it will undoubtedly bruise. His eyes are closed and rolled back, his jaw dropped and his heavy breaths meeting your neck.

"Fffffuck!" He whines with one last thrust, stilling deep inside of you with his warm release. "Good fucking hell, princess..."

He kisses your neck softly, sucking a deep mark as you sniffle and catch your breath, trembling below him.

"Shhh," he coos genuinely soft, rubbing your shoulders gingerly, "Daddy's got you."

"D-don't leave." You plead quietly, clinging to him like your life depends on it.

"Never, doll." He promises just as quietly, letting the air settle around you and letting you collect your brains, "I'll hold you until you're ready to let go."

"Never," you pout, squeezing him in your arms tighter.

"Not ever?" He chuckles fondly, slipping one of his hands to wipe your cheeks softly.

"Nope, you have to hold m-me forever."

"Not a problem, angel~"

ꕥ

A couple of hours genuinely felt like forever as you held each other, talking about everything and nothing all at once until you fell asleep.

Fucked back to sleep, just like he said he'd do.

Even as your breathing evens out to a slow, steady pace and your eyes close peacefully — he still holds you. You didn't say you were ready to let go. So, he stays right where he's at.

In nothing but his boxers, holding you; in nothing but his hoodie with it pulled over your head and shielding your face from the early afternoon sun that shines through the blinds and casts stripes of warmth across your near-naked bodies.

You sleep curled up on his side while he lays on his back, one arm securely around you at all times as he watches the birds on the fire escape.

Something is nagging the back of his mind, and he can't figure it out. He tries to ignore it, and just fully enjoy holding you. But —

His morning cigarette.

It hits him completely out of nowhere. He didn't smoke when he woke up, for obvious reasons. And even now, a couple of hours later; he still isn't craving one.

He looks down at you, your face hidden in his chest. "You little witch~" He giggles to himself, rubbing your back softly as you stir.

He has been smoking less and less with you around because you started to pout about the health of his lungs. But to not even have a craving? He hasn't been craving free for years.

Even with every technique he's used. Snapping a rubber band when he has a craving, not keeping his cigarettes in reach, keeping his hands busy — lollipops and gum was the closest thing that got his mind off of it. Only for a few minutes, though.

Never hours.

Never filling him with a satisfaction deep in his bones.

Never like you.

"Yunie?"

"Hey, baby," he smiles softly, looking over you slowly as you lift your head, "good nap?"

"Mhm," you smile back, groaning as you lean up and peck his cheek.

"You hurtin'?" He helps you sit up slowly, rubbing your lower back.

"Yeah, you fuck like a mad-man."

"Weeeell-"

"I heard it when I said it," you shove his shoulder with a laugh, eyes shining as you look up at him. "Gimme a kiss."

"Oh, yes, ma'am," he jokes, but he leans down as he stands and he kisses you, just like you asked.

"Another?"

And he gives it to you, lifting you off of the bed gently and holding the back of your thighs as you wrap your legs around him.

"One more?"

You get it as he sits you on the bathroom counter carefully, chucking into your lips.

"One more," you grab his wrist and tug him back when he goes to turn on the shower.

"I just gave you one more~"

"Nuh-uh~"

"Nuh-uh?" He grins, cupping your cheeks and pecking your lips repeatedly while you laugh softly. "Is that enough 'one more's, pretty girl?"

"I'll take 'em~"

You let him go to the shower, watching him with a smile stuck on your lips. "I love you, Yunho."

His back straightens out, eyes slightly wide; like he's forgotten you admitted it while he was ruining you earlier.

"I meant it when I said it earlier, I don't want you to think I just- cause the heat of the moment, y'know? I really do love y-"

"You stop talking before I get hard again." He cuts you off with a blush on his cheeks, looking away to check the temperature of the water. "C'mere," he has a smile just a permanent on his face as you do while he pulls the hoodie off of you. "I love you," he says with a kiss to your head, "don't say it like that unless you want me to fuck your sore cunt, though."

"Like what?"

"All soft and shit."

You laugh as he helps you into the shower, holding your arm as you step in before ridding himself of his boxers and joining you.

"Should I say it meanly, then?"

"God, that's even worse. I love it when you're mean." He caresses your sides softly, letting the water run down your aching back.

"You perv~" You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to you as he moans dramatically.

"Oh, I'm hard~"

"Shut up," you smile widely, crashing your lips into his. Both of your eyes fall shut, moving together in tandem.

He towers over you, leaning down to meet you without forcing you to be on your toes. He guides you by your hips until your back hits the cold tiles, making you gasp.

You moan around his tongue, kitten licking against it as he laps at everything he can reach until you both run out of air. He places his forehead to yours gently, "thank you, doll."

"Hm?" The water runs down his jaw and drips onto your chest. "What for?"

"Being mine."

ꕥ

Three days later, your heat is still broken and you're still staying at Yunho's apartment.

As you make your way up the vast stairwell after getting his mail; you notice it.

The shadow that comes up the stairs, turning the corners right after you do.

You slow down, and their footsteps echo for a moment before they do as well.

You go to grab your knife from your pocket — only to realize you don't have it. You don't have anything. You're in nothing but one of his large hoodies and a pair of pajama pants, your sneakers pulled on lazily.

You stop completely; so does your stalker.

You pull your sneakers over your heels quickly, glancing down the stairwell and only seeing their shadow against the wall. Can't even be bothered to hide all the way?

It's much too short to be The Joker.

You pull the hood over your head, covering your hair and tying the strings in a tight bow. Less to grab, the better.

Yunho should be coming home soon. If you can't scare off your stalker, he certainly will — he'll do much more than scare them.

"Are you stupid?" You call down loudly, your voice bouncing on the walls and down the long drop down the middle of the stairs.

The shadow doesn't move.

"Hey! Jackass! I know you're following me!"

It takes a few seconds for the person to speak. "...I don't want to hurt you."

It's a man, a younger one.

"So stalking is just a fun way to pass the time?"

He takes the remaining steps to turn the corner, and you drop the mail onto the floor with a dramatic sigh.

He's much too buff for you to fight off on your own.

"I just need your help with something. It's in your best interest to comply. I don't want to hurt you, but I can."

"Out with it then." You lean your shoulders on the wall, face to face with him as he ascends the stairs slowly.

"I need you to call The Joker."

You raise your eyebrows, "mh? What makes you think I know him?"

"You've been his gal-pal for a couple months now." He stops on the same flat landing as you, a few good inches away. An arm, or a legs length away. "I saw him leave. Call him back."

"Sorry, I'm not his assistant-"

Your sass earns you a gun to your face, staring down the barrel of it with a blank face even as your heart thuds.

"Call him back."

"I don't have my phone."

When he reaches to grab your shoulder, you kick him in the stomach; shoving him down the stairs and running before he gets the chance to get back up.

"Get back here!"

He's up and his footsteps are booming behind you much faster than you'd like. But then, he does look at least semi-professional. He's probably here to kill or at least threaten Yunho — and you happen to be his best bet at getting what he wants.

He grabs the hoodie, and it yanks you to a stop; but thankfully it protects your scalp from his grasp. "Fucking should have seen it coming," he groans as he drags your stumbling figure up the last set of stairs to the floor Yunho lives on, "of course Joker's bitch is feisty."

He seems to know exactly which door, pulling you right to it as you try to get out of the hoodie without falling flat on your face.

You're a bit too late, slipping out of it just as he throws you into the small entrance hallway. You scramble up as he puts the chain lock and the deadbolt on; racing mind trying to think of a game plan.

You can't do much without risking getting a bullet in the process. You need to be alive for him to use you as bait — but you can survive a shot to the leg or arm.

"Let's try again... Call The Joker."

ꕥ

"Yes, doll?" he answers the phone as calm as ever, leaning his head on his hand as he sits at his desk; business partner sitting across from him, on his own phone with a slightly annoyed look.

"Yunie..."

He shoots up out of his chair, letting it clatter to the floor. Your voice is tense and full of unshed tears. He's out the door before the man in his office even notices he'd gotten up.

He knows deep in his gut that something is wrong.

"I need you to come home. I think- think I'm sick."

"Am I on speaker phone?" He asks quickly as he gets into his car.

"No, I'm okay... I ju- I just need you to be here."

Bullshit. You are far from okay. But you do need him to be there.

People are honking at him as he weaves his way into traffic. "Is someone there, baby?"

"Mhm."

"Did they hurt you?" He'll kill them. If the answer is yes or if it's no; he'll kill them either way.

"Just a little-" You get cut off by a hushed whisper. He's tries to listen, but it's all in vain. The person is too far away from the microphone. You clear your throat, "will you come home?"

"I'm on the way. Try to get them to the living room."

"M'kay... See you soon."

ꕥ

"My hands are getting numb." You deadpan from your place on the couch, sitting with your back against it and your feet up on the table. "Can't you loosen-"

"No."

He tied your wrists together with some rope, and it was tight enough to be chaffing your skin with every attempt you made to loosen it.

"...Well, fuck you too then."

"Are you always this mouthy?" He groans from the chair he'd placed facing the front door, ready to shoot The Joker the second it opens. With every second that passes, you're more and more afraid that that will be the outcome.

Your throat is dry and your stomach is in knots.

"Most the time, yeah."

A soft clink catches your attention. It sounds like it came from the bedroom behind you.

You tilt your head over the back of the couch — and your eyes light up as you meet Yunho's dark gaze while he crawls in through the window by the fire escape.

He slips in as silent as a mouse, pulling a knife from his back pocket as he stands. With a metal finger to his lips, he approaches.

You look back to the intruder with relief on your face. His back is still turned as Yunho makes his way into the apartment quietly. He stops briefly to give you a once over, ruffling your head before continuing on to the man.

"Ahem."

The man jumps, gun aimed — but quickly knocked out of his grasps when Yunho slams the butt of his knife into his hand.

"Fucking stupid jackass," Yunho groans as he grabs the man by the hair, knife to his throat and eyes daring him to move. "Do you think you're going to get out of here alive after what you've done? Do you think I won't gut you like a fucking fish?! Breaking into my home? Threatening my girl?!"

He shakes his head quickly, making The Joker scoff. "Coward on top of being an idiot, how did you make it this far in life?"

He drags the man over to your tensely seated form by his hair, forcing him to kneel. "Beg."

"W-what?"

"Beg for her forgiveness. Make it convincing enough and I'll make your death quick." He can sense the man's hesitation, which is fair — because he's lying through his teeth. "Scouts honor~"

"Please, Joker, this was just a job! Your girl was never gonna get h-" He gets his head slammed into the armrest for his troubles.

"I said beg for her forgiveness. There's no need to beg me, it won't get you anywhere. She's the one you've disrespected, look at her!" Yunho yells right in the man's face, yanking his hair again as they both look at you.

You seem almost unfazed by the situation, but your heart is beating wildly. You've never seen Joker so angry. He was calm and collected when he was showing you all of the ways he knew how to make a man scream. The run-in with the detective might come close, but you didn't hear anything he had said.

Now, though, he may as well have steam coming from his ears, "look at her! Tied up in the safety of her own home-" You catch onto that, but he doesn't; too lost in his rage. "Did he hurt you, princess?"

The way he goes from absolutely livid to soft as cotton when speaking to you makes your heart flutter. "Not bad. My wrists are bleeding a bit..."

"Poor baby, c'mere." He shoves the man to the floor and steps on his chest, making him wheeze. "We need to wrap you up when we're done here, don't let me forget."

He does another once over of you as you stand up and hold your wrists towards him. "He didn't touch you, angel?"

"No." You shake your head quickly, sighing with relief as he carefully cuts the ropes.

"Hmph," he pouts as he holds your hand gently, turning your arm to get a better look. "One thing this idiot did right, I guess. He can die with his dick still attached to his body."

"Joke-"

"Shut up!" Both of you yell down at the man before going back to looking at one another softly.

"How did he get in?" Yunho presses more of his weight on the man as he struggles.

"Caught him following me up the stairs, drug me up here after I pushed him down a flight-"

He holds a finger towards you to tell you to wait and kicks the man across the face. "Would you stop fucking fidgeting, asshole? I'm trying to listen to her! Go on, love."

"He was watchin' us. He said he saw you leave. He-" You sneer, glaring down at him, "he called me a bitch."

"A bitch?" Yunho looks down at the shivering man, almost laughing. Either this man is the stupidest man in Gotham or he was hired by the person with that title. Sending such an unprofessional after The fucking Joker. "You called her a bitch?"

"No- no, no, no!" He tries to deny it, getting a kick; this time from you, to his leg.

"Liar."

"No, I sw-"

"So you're calling her a liar, then?" Yunho replaces his foot with his knee, leaning over the man and dragging his blade against his cheek. "My sweet girl would never lie. Right?" He looks over his shoulder to you with a manic, dark smile.

"Never, Mister J."

"See?" He twirls the knife to get a better grip before driving it into the man's shoulder, making him yell. "I told you." The blood spurts onto his suit as he yanks it out.

You hover over the both of them, jaw tight.

"You said it was a job," Yunho says evenly, like the man isn't writhing beneath him and bleeding all over the floor, "who hired your sorry ass?"

"Falcone-"

"Ugh!" Yunho rolls his eyes dramatically, "seriously? That fucking guy is back?"

"He wants-"

"I know what he wants. He isn't going to get it. Especially not if he keeps sending dimwits like you after me. Baby?" He turns to you, making you perk up.

"Yes?"

"How do you think we should send a message that says 'fuck off'?"

"We could..." You hum, coming up behind him and looking down at the man's begging eyes as you place your hands on Yunho's shoulders; relaxing him ever so slightly. "Carve it into him?"

"Wait-"

"That's a great idea, doll! Here, hold this." You take the knife without a second thought, backing up while he yanks the man up quickly. "You won't be alive for it, don't worry," he chuckles as he slams the man to the wall; banging his head against it and making him too dizzy to fight. "Just know," he smiles darkly as he reaches his hand out. You place the knife in his open palm, skipping over and looking around his arm.

"You had this coming. Nobody gets to touch her, so-" He shoves the blade into the man's stomach, "nothing too personal. No hard feelings, right?"

By the time the man recovers from the slam to his head, he's already half dead. The Jokers blade jabbing his torso too many times to count. But if someone were to do so, it would be around stab number 16 that he started laughing.

Quietly, at first. Then it's full fits of chuckles. Then, pure manic laughter. The last sound that anyone killed by the man has heard. His mocking, gleeful sounds as their life force bleeds away.

You look away from the carnage, instead looking up at Yunho. His lips stretched wide with his cackles, crinkles in the corners of his eyes.

He's fucking crazy.

And you smile at him.

When the man becomes nothing but dead weight, Yunho finally steps back; panting softly as he watches the body slump to the floor. He covers his mouth another giggle slips up his throat, peeking over his arm at you.

"Yunho?"

He hesitates for a second. "Yes?"

"Have you ever fucked in front of a dead body?"

"...No?"

"You want to?"

You're fucking crazy.

And he smiles at you.

"Absolutely."

ꕥ

【jokers♱】 @mentallyunpresent @fireseo @beomkyum @spicyhotteokkay @vinylphwoar @ramadiiiisme @m00njinnie @love--in-stayville @xoenhalover @roxhanah @zeilixir @aurorasjoongie @palchokitty

₊‧⁺stardust˖⋆ @sousydive @sunnysidesins @onyxmango @devilzliaison @ateezswonderland @queenofdumbfuckery @emilysecresy

[spencersmopbucket]

Pureblood Kissing | Draco Malfoy

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader Summary: After years of nagging from his parents, Draco finally finds the perfect girl for him. Warnings & Themes: Fluff, normalizing rude behavior kinda, the reader is a lot like Draco

There weren't many, if any girls, that met the standards of the pureblooded Draco Malfoy.

He had been taught from a young age the importance of family, lineage, and blood status. Those expectations had shaped every aspect of his life. He learned to be picky — no, meticulous — about everything, especially when it came to something as important as a future partner.

"She must be of clean blood and she absolutely must take her future seriously, Draco," his father had drilled into his ears, time and time again. It was a rule that had shaped his outlook on relationships, or lack thereof.

His mother had said a variation of the same thing.

"Self-respect, pureblood, and intelligence are non-negotiable, Draco," she would say, her voice laced with both pride and expectation. "You are not just a Malfoy by name. You represent a legacy, a family that has stood the test of time."

And so, growing up in the shadow of such expectations, Draco had been conditioned to see girls through a lens of perfection — perfect lineage, perfect demeanor, perfect future. It wasn’t that he didn’t notice other girls, but none of them ever quite fit the mold. They either came from questionable bloodlines or were more interested in the next party than their future prospects.

He'd been asked to balls, invited to Hogsmeade, told that he was fancied. But because of the way he was raised, because of how he was conditioned, he curled his lip with disgust and told every approaching girl to 'piss off, foul mudblood' or 'go brush up on your arithmetic first, love'.

It was easier that way, keeping people at arm’s length, not allowing anyone to slip past the carefully constructed walls he’d built around himself. His family had always made it clear: he didn’t need to worry about emotions, about connections. They were a distraction from what truly mattered — family, power, and blood status.

But then, you came along.

It was unexpected, really. Draco had been attending yet another extravagant dinner in the Great Hall, surrounded by the usual group of admirers and people vying for his attention. The same conversations about future plans and bloodlines swirled around him, but his mind was elsewhere, distracted by the sudden presence of someone who didn’t fit the mold at all.

You sat at the other end of the Slytherin table, surrounded by a group of girls Draco had never taken a moment to acknowledge. He had never even looked at you before, let alone your friends.

He wasn't quite sure how. You were exquisite.

Long, sleek and perfectly brushed h/c locks, falling down your back and pinned neatly by a headband. Clear skin, neat makeup, and a charming smile stretching your lips. You talked quietly and politely, sometimes letting a small giggle slip.

There was an effortless elegance about you, Draco couldn’t deny that. You weren’t loud or demanding attention like some of the other girls at the table. No, you simply existed in a way that was almost more captivating than any of the others. It wasn’t that you tried to fit the mold of what a Slytherin girl should be — you weren’t cold and calculating like Pansy, nor were you loud like Millicent. You had your own quiet grace, and for reasons Draco couldn’t explain, he found himself drawn to you.

His gaze lingered for longer than usual as you laughed softly at something one of your friends said, the sound light and airy, drawing attention in a way that wasn’t at all obnoxious. Your eyes twinkled with amusement, and he wondered what it would be like to hear that laugh up close, to be the one who caused that smile.

You were effortlessly beautiful, but it wasn’t just your looks that caught his attention. It was the way you carried yourself — with quiet confidence, like you weren’t trying to prove anything to anyone. It was as though you had already determined your worth, and didn’t need to shout it from the rooftops.

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to force himself to look away, but something about you lingered in his thoughts. He had to admit, even to himself, that he had never noticed anyone quite like you before. No one had ever made him feel the way he did in that moment.

He quietly observed you for months, cursing himself for being too much of a coward to speak up. His throat itched with the urge to speak to you, even to say hello. It was an unknown feeling for Draco — especially when he was used to either being cruel or silent.

Christmas break came. He was relieved, eager for a break from the feeling. The tiny bit of urgency he felt in the back of his mind to approach you.

The usual party happened at the Malfoy Manor.

The grand hall of the Malfoy Manor was bathed in the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, casting warm light on the polished marble floors. The air smelled faintly of evergreen and the faint trace of expensive perfume. Snow fell silently outside, but within, the atmosphere was warm, decorated with garlands of greenery, holly, and red ribbons. It was the epitome of luxury, a celebration that embodied everything the Malfoy family stood for — old money, pure bloodlines, and traditions that spanned centuries.

Guests milled about, their voices low and refined, carrying the faint undercurrent of whispered conversations about blood status, alliances, and future marriages. The women were dressed in shimmering gowns, each one carefully chosen to emphasize their status, while the men sported impeccable suits and crisp, tailored robes. The atmosphere was both regal and suffocating, the weight of expectation hanging in the air like a thick fog.

Draco stood by the grand fireplace, his hands tucked into the pockets of his black dress robes, watching as his parents conversed with various guests. His mother, Narcissa, was the picture of composure, her blonde hair styled perfectly, a delicate glass of champagne resting elegantly in her hand as she discussed matters of family lineage with a woman Draco barely recognized.

"Draco," his father, Lucius, said from behind him, his voice smooth but commanding. "Make yourself useful. Go mingle. There's someone I want you to meet."

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes imperceptibly before turning to face his father. "I’m fine here, Father. Just enjoying the festivities."

Lucius shot him a look that brooked no argument. "It’s not about enjoyment. It’s about opportunity. You’ll do well to remember that."

Draco nodded stiffly, though his mind wasn’t in it. He didn’t care for the endless charades of these gatherings, nor the constant pressure to prove himself. He just wanted some peace, a few moments of solitude. But he had learned long ago that there were few things his father hated more than a son who appeared uninterested in furthering the family’s agenda.

"Very well," Draco muttered, forcing a smile as he walked toward a group of familiar faces near the center of the room. His gaze flickered over to his mother, who was speaking animatedly with the Rosier family.

“Ah, Draco,” his father’s voice interrupted his thoughts. "This is Mr. Travers. His family has a long history with ours, and I think you’d find his daughter a most suitable match for you."

Draco turned to face the older man who had approached, giving a polite but distant nod. Mr. Travers was tall, with graying hair and a face lined with age and experience. His sharp eyes gleamed with the same superiority that most purebloods wore like a second skin. But Draco wasn’t interested. Not in this match, not in these traditions. He was more concerned about the feeling in his chest — the one that came whenever he caught sight of you, even in the midst of his usual social mask.

Mr. Travers continued, oblivious to Draco’s distraction. "I hear you’ve made quite a name for yourself at Hogwarts, Draco. Quite the head-turner, eh?"

Draco forced a smile, nodding politely. "I do my best."

Across the room, Narcissa glanced at Draco, catching his gaze for a brief moment before returning to her conversation. Her expression was unreadable, but Draco knew exactly what she was thinking. This was all part of the plan. Mingle, make an impression, and begin securing alliances for the future. His future.

The door to the Manor opened, a slight whoosh of winter air spreading through the room. Another family walked in — one Draco had never seen here before.

A tall man in a dark suit, teeth glinting in a polite smile. He looked rich, important, and exactly like the type to attend one of these parties. His wife stood with her arm intertwined with his, hair curled perfectly and body fitted into a winter gown, fur at each sleeve and at the neckline. Her neck was decorated with glittering jewels.

Finally, you walked in behind them. Their daughter, he assumed. His jaw dropped.

The moment Draco laid eyes on you, his world seemed to slow. You walked into the room with a quiet grace, completely unaware of the way his gaze followed you like a magnetic pull. The air in the room shifted, and for a fleeting moment, Draco felt like he was standing on the edge of something unknown, something exciting — yet terrifying.

Your presence was like a breath of fresh air, an unexpected breeze that cut through the usual stale conversations about family and bloodlines. You were dressed in a simple yet stunning gown — deep blue silk that shimmered under the candlelight, contrasting beautifully with your hair. The slight curve of your smile as you entered the room seemed genuine, as if you were simply happy to be there, not weighed down by the heaviness of expectations like so many others.

You were radiant, effortlessly so. Draco blinked and looked away for a moment, trying to gather himself. He’d been conditioned his whole life to only notice the ‘right’ girls, the ones who fit the mold of purity and perfection. And the way you carried yourself was perfect.

You laughed softly at something your father said, the sound sweet and melodic, and Draco felt the strangest urge to move toward you. He watched as his mother hurried towards you all, a thrilled smile on her face.

"The L/N's! How lovely to have you all!"

Your parents smiled politely, returning Narcissa’s warm greeting. Your father offered a firm handshake while your mother leaned in for the kind of elegant cheek kiss that only pureblood society seemed to perfect.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” your mother beamed. “It’s been far too long.”

Draco stood stiffly beside his father, watching from a distance as his mother welcomed you all with the kind of rare warmth she reserved for guests she genuinely approved of. That in itself startled him. Narcissa Malfoy didn’t smile like that often, and certainly not at people she wasn’t absolutely enchanted by.

Then her gaze flickered toward him.

“Draco,” she called gently, beckoning him over. “Come greet our guests properly.”

His heart gave a traitorous little jump, but he smoothed down his blazer, lifted his chin, and walked over like nothing in the world was bothering him. Like he hadn’t been watching you since the moment you walked in. Like he hadn’t already memorized the shade of your lipstick.

You turned to face him, eyes wide and curious, lips parted in subtle surprise. And then, you smiled.

Not a coy smile. Not a forced one. A warm, genuine smile that knocked the breath right out of his lungs.

“This is our son, Draco,” Narcissa said, placing a gentle hand on his back. “Draco, this is Mr. and Mrs. L/N, and their daughter—”

“Y/N,” you said sweetly, offering your hand to him.

He took it carefully, noting the softness of your skin and the confidence of your grip. He forced his voice to remain steady. “Pleasure to meet you.”

You tilted your head slightly, still smiling, and said, “We’ve never spoken before. But I’ve seen you around Hogwarts.”

He swallowed hard, unsure how to read your tone — not flirty, not indifferent. Just honest. Kind. Direct. You weren’t trying to impress him. You weren’t trying to be anything other than yourself.

And it completely threw him off his axis.

Lucius spoke up next to him, ever the composed patriarch. “Your family’s reputation precedes you, Miss L/N. Your grades, too, if I recall correctly. A very promising future.”

Draco’s stomach twisted. Was this what his father had been waiting for? The perfect introduction? The subtle test of compatibility? He could already feel the weight of it — the expectation, the scrutiny, the legacy being silently passed like a torch between families.

But you didn’t seem burdened by any of it.

“I suppose I try to keep my priorities straight,” you replied, polite and poised, but there was a quiet edge of humor in your voice. You weren’t afraid to be honest — even in a room full of people pretending.

Draco found himself smiling. For real.

For the first time, he wasn’t thinking about bloodlines or arranged futures. He was thinking about you.

And the way snowflakes clung to your lashes from your walk inside.

"Let's leave the children to talk, hm? There are refreshments over here.." Narcissa silently lead your parents away. She probably read the situation immediately, noting the look on Draco's face.

His mother was always fantastic at reading people.

Draco barely registered his parents and yours drifting away, their voices fading into the background as though the entire Manor had gone quiet just for this moment. His eyes were on you — the way you glanced around the room with polite curiosity, the way you smoothed the fabric of your gown, unbothered by the pressure that would’ve made most people buckle.

He cleared his throat gently, stepping a bit closer to you.

“You look…” He paused. Compliments weren’t his strong suit. Especially not when they were sincere. “You look… nice.”

You raised an amused brow, lips twitching. “Nice?”

He winced slightly. “I meant… lovely. You look lovely.”

There was a beat of silence before you laughed — not mockingly, but genuinely. It was a soft, musical sound that made his chest tighten.

“Thank you, Draco,” you said, voice warm. “You clean up well too.”

He smirked faintly, the tension easing just enough for him to feel like himself again — or, at least, a version of himself he wasn’t used to showing. “I try.”

The room felt warmer than it should have for a winter night. Or maybe it was just the way you were looking at him — like you were trying to figure him out, like you weren’t afraid of what you might find.

After a few moments, you tilted your head toward the tall, frost-covered windows lining the ballroom. Snow was still falling gently outside, blanketing the gardens in silver. The moonlight made it all glitter like magic.

You returned your pretty eyes to Draco, again smiling.

"I'm surprised we had never talked before this. We have a lot in common."

Draco’s lips twitched again, not quite a smile — more like the ghost of one. “Are you implying you know enough about me to say that?”

You tilted your head, feigning thoughtfulness. “I know you’re clever, take things seriously, and you don’t suffer fools. And your family restricts you to only interact with purebloods.”

Draco’s expression flickered — not with offense, but with something far more fragile: surprise, maybe even admiration. You’d struck a chord, clean and sharp. Not many dared to speak plainly to him, let alone about the restrictions he lived under.

He let out a short, dry breath, his voice low. “You say that like you disapprove.”

You shrugged, your gaze never leaving his. “I say it like I understand.”

That stilled him.

For a moment, all the polished chatter and clinking crystal of the ballroom faded into nothing. All he could focus on was the way you looked at him — not like a Malfoy, not like a name, not like a symbol. Just him.

“You’re different,” he said quietly. It wasn’t a question. It was a fact.

You smiled — a real one, soft and curious. “So are you.”

There was silence again, but this time it was comfortable. Outside, snowflakes kissed the glass like whispers, and behind you both, the party blurred into a distant hum.

“Have you ever been out in the gardens during a snowfall?” you asked suddenly.

Draco blinked. “Not when there’s a party going on.”

You shrugged slightly, a playful gleam in your eye. “Seems like the perfect time to sneak away, don’t you think?”

He hesitated for half a second — long enough for the weight of his name and expectations to press down on his shoulders. Then, without another word, he offered you his arm politely.

Your fingers slipped around his bicep with the kind of effortless trust that made his heart race.

Together, you slipped out through one of the French doors at the edge of the ballroom, stepping into the soft crunch of snow beneath your shoes. The cold nipped at your skin immediately, but it only made the moment feel sharper, more alive.

Snowflakes clung to your hair again. You were incredible.

That night, Draco tossed and turned, failing to sleep. He climbed out of bed, silently sneaking down the stairs to get a glass of water — he wasn't sure if it would help, but he just needed to try.

He wasn't sure how long it took someone to fall in love. He wasn't sure about anything. Besides the fact that you were perfect. You were exactly what he'd been looking for for years. Someone he could fall into while not disappointing his parents.

When he got to the kitchen, he reached into the cabinet for a glass, his fingers moving on autopilot. His mind wasn’t in the room — it was still outside, in the snow-dusted garden, with you. The way your cheeks had been flushed from the cold, the way you’d looked at him like he wasn’t a Malfoy at all, but just... Draco.

He filled the glass from the decanter and took a sip, leaning against the counter in the dark, trying to calm the flutter in his chest. It was maddening — this feeling. Foreign and far too fast. But not unwelcome.

A soft sound startled him.

He turned quickly.

His mother stood there, her hands on her hips. A knowing smile twitched at her lips.

She raised a delicate brow, gliding into the kitchen with her usual poise, robe trailing behind her like a queen in slippers. Her blonde hair was pinned back neatly, not a strand out of place despite the late hour.

“I figured I’d find you here,” she said smoothly, her voice low but tinged with amusement. “You always wander when something — or someone — unsettles you.”

Draco scoffed softly, setting his glass down with a small clink. “I’m not unsettled.”

Narcissa gave him a look that could wither even Lucius. “Please. You’ve been distracted all evening. I saw the way you looked at her.”

He didn’t respond.

She stepped closer, her tone gentler now. “Draco. You’ve always been cautious with your heart. Maybe too cautious. But I saw the girl. She's exactly the kind of woman I hoped you’d one day notice — and not just because of her bloodline.”

He met her eyes, surprised.

“She’s poised. Smart. Not swayed by status. And she looks at you like you hung the moon in the sky.”

Draco stared at the marble countertop, fighting the rare emotion bubbling in his chest. “You don’t think Father would…”

“Your father,” Narcissa interrupted, “approves greatly. He did this on purpose, most likely. And you, Draco —” she reached out, brushing his shoulder affectionately “— you’re stronger when you let yourself feel.”

That was enough for Draco. It was enough.

When you returned from break, he allowed himself to feel. Just as his mother recommended.

The castle was still dusted in snow, its towers capped in white like a postcard. Students were flooding the Great Hall again, reunited, buzzing about holiday gossip and new gifts from home. But Draco didn’t care for any of it.

He saw you almost instantly.

You were seated at the Slytherin table again, your hair brushed neatly and tucked behind your ear, fingers lightly wrapped around a warm mug of tea. You looked content, unaware of how utterly captivating you were to him. It steadied something inside him. And stirred something else.

This time, he didn’t look away.

He waited until the morning rush slowed and you stood, excusing yourself politely from your friends.

Then, with a deep breath and his shoulders squared, he approached — calm, composed, and very much his father's son.

“Good morning,” he said evenly, his tone polite but purposeful.

You looked at him, blinking in surprise, then smiling softly. “Morning, Malfoy.”

He offered a slight bow of his head. “Draco, if you don’t mind.”

Your friends' eyes widened, and they immediately began a hushed giggling.

There was a small pause. Then he continued, "I realize this may seem abrupt, but I was wondering if you might accompany me on a walk this evening — through the courtyard, if the snow doesn’t bother you. I find conversation is often more pleasant away from the noise of the castle.”

You raised a brow, your interest visibly piqued.

“Just a walk?” you asked, teasing.

He gave a faint, amused smile. “To start with, yes. I thought it only proper to ask respectfully, rather than loiter about in corridors hoping you’d notice me.”

Your lips curved, clearly impressed.

“I’d be delighted, Draco.”

He nodded once, solemn but clearly pleased. “Very well. I’ll meet you just after supper, near the eastern arch.”

He left it at that. No lingering glances, no crude flirtation — just the dignity of a boy raised to court with intent, not chase out of impulse.

It began that way. Draco was respectful, not pushing too hard or too fast, just simply giving you a steady presence and a wholesome reminder that he was interested. You were the same way — at arms length at first, but slowly opening up.

You'd been on multiple dates to Hogsmeade, multiple evening walks, multiple study dates. You'd worn his extra jersey and his scarf to his Quidditch games. You'd been gifted flowers, chocolate, jewelry — anything you could want. This was the Malfoy fashion, the pureblood fashion.

You'd been through all of this before Draco even dared kiss you.

Draco’s slow, careful courtship had worked wonders. There was something remarkably genuine about it — an old-fashioned charm that made your heart flutter with each new gesture. He wasn’t one to rush, to demand, or even to push for anything more than what felt right. He gave you space, allowed you to make decisions on your own, and that, in turn, made everything feel so much more intimate.

The first kiss came in the middle of a quiet evening, long after your study date had ended. You had been walking through the moonlit grounds near the Black Lake, the leaves crunching beneath your feet, both of you wrapped in your cloaks, a peaceful silence between you.

The world felt suspended in that moment. Draco’s eyes were locked on yours, his hand hovering near your own but never touching unless you made the first move. His presence was magnetic, but it was the way he made you feel safe — unhurried — that pulled you closer.

You inched your fingers towards his, warm skin grazing his cold skin. With a little encouragement, Draco interlaced his fingers with yours, blue eyes flicking over to meet yours.

"We never really touch. I crave it." You admitted to him, a sheepish smile on your face.

Draco’s breath hitched slightly at your words. The vulnerability in your confession was unexpected, and it stirred something deep within him. He had always been cautious with physical affection, especially with someone who held his attention as you did. But in that moment, hearing you say that you craved it made something shift between you, something gentle but undeniable.

His gaze softened, and he gave your hand a subtle, comforting squeeze. “I crave it too,” he murmured, his voice lower than usual, laden with sincerity.

He took a slow step closer, the tension between you growing, but still gentle, never hurried. His other hand reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, his fingers grazing your cheek with the lightest touch.

You were holding your breath without even knowing it, your eyes studying his face.

Draco was gorgeous, to put it lightly.

You couldn’t help but let your gaze linger on his features — the sharpness of his jawline, the delicate curve of his lips, the way the moonlight caught the strands of his platinum hair. Everything about him was perfect, but it wasn’t just his looks that captivated you. It was the way he was with you, the way he made you feel as though time itself had paused just for this moment.

He seemed to sense your gaze on him, his blue eyes locking with yours as he took another step closer. There was an intensity in his stare, but it was soft, like he was allowing you to see a part of him that no one else had ever seen before.

"You're.. pretty." You allowed it to slip. You fought a facepalm.

Draco’s expression softened the moment the words left your mouth, and a flicker of something almost shy passed through his eyes. He took a small step closer, his voice steady but tinged with a slight surprise. “Pretty?” he repeated, as if testing the word on his lips. “I’ll have to admit, that’s not quite what I expected, but I’ll take it.”

You could feel the warmth creeping up your neck, realizing how awkward you must have sounded. “I didn’t mean—”

But Draco cut you off, his lips curling into a subtle, playful smile. “No need to explain. I find it refreshing, actually.”

You let your hand hesitantly come up, tracing his jawline. You couldn't help it. To see something so exquisite was wonderful, but to touch it?

Draco’s breath caught at the gentle touch of your fingers tracing his jawline. His eyes fluttered closed for just a moment, the weight of your soft touch sending a shiver down his spine. It was as if the world had narrowed down to just the space between you — the moonlight, the crisp air, and the undeniable pull that had been building between you both for so long.

When his eyes opened again, they were filled with a tenderness you hadn’t quite expected from him. He swallowed, as if gathering his thoughts, and his voice was quieter this time, almost reverent. “You’re not making this any easier, you know.” His words hung between you like a delicate promise.

The way your fingers lingered on his skin made his pulse race, yet there was no rush, no pressure. It was as if the moment itself was sacred, allowing you to savor each fleeting second.

He took a deep breath and moved slightly closer, his own hand coming to rest just beside yours, his fingers brushing against your wrist with a barely-there touch. "You're everything I could've hoped for. You make it hard not to fall straight in," he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

It wasn’t just the way he looked at you anymore — it was the way he spoke, the way he stood, like he was learning a new side of himself with every step. With you.

The air between you both seemed to thicken, charged with something deeper than mere attraction. The honesty in his words hung in the space around you, and for a moment, you felt weightless, suspended in the beauty of it all. Draco Malfoy — the boy who had always been so controlled, so poised — was unraveling in front of you, and you couldn’t help but let yourself fall into it.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked quietly, his cold breath fanning across your face.

Your breath caught at the question, the raw sincerity in his voice making your heart race. For a moment, you couldn’t find the words — only the steady rhythm of your pulse and the warmth of his gaze locking with yours.

The air felt charged, each passing second stretching out in the most exquisite way. His presence was all-consuming, but it wasn’t the kind of forceful pull you had anticipated from someone like Draco. No, this was different. This was careful.

You found yourself nodding, the small gesture enough to invite him in, to let him know you were ready. But your voice was soft when it came — almost as if you were sharing a secret.

“Yes,” you whispered, your heart fluttering at the simplicity of it, the way his sincerity matched your own.

Draco’s eyes flickered with something unspoken, a mix of relief and hope, and with a tenderness that completely surprised you, he closed the space between you. His lips, cool against the warmth of your skin, were gentle at first, as though testing the waters, waiting for you to meet him halfway.

You inched forward, increasing the contact, increasing the pressure. The kiss was electric, creating a current between the two of you. You were enveloped by his scent, his careful hands on either side of your face.

The kiss deepened, a slow and deliberate merging of two souls who had been circling around one another for so long. Draco’s hands cupped your face, his touch grounding yet tender, as though he was cherishing the moment — savoring it as much as you were. His lips moved against yours with a kind of reverence, a quiet understanding that this was more than just a kiss. It was a promise, an acknowledgment of everything that had led to this point.

The cold night air mingled with the warmth of your bodies, creating a delicate contrast. You could feel the heat of Draco’s breath against your skin, his heart racing beneath the fabric of his cloak. Every second felt timeless, the world outside, with its snow and moonlight, fading into the background. It was just you and him.

When the kiss finally broke, leaving you both breathless, you couldn’t help but smile, a soft, almost shy curve of your lips. Draco, too, seemed to be struggling to catch his breath, his eyes wide and unguarded in a way you’d never seen before.

He searched your eyes for a moment, as if waiting for some sign, some confirmation. "Was that... alright?" His voice was low, hesitant, as though he feared pushing too far, too fast.

You reached out, your hand resting gently on his chest. "More than alright," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Draco let out a small, relieved chuckle, and for the first time, he allowed himself to fully relax, the guarded walls he’d always kept up around himself momentarily slipping away. He was open, vulnerable, and it felt like you were both on the cusp of something beautiful.

The days that followed were absolutely blissful.

The kiss sealed the deal, officialized your relationship. You walked through the halls, your hand wrapped around Draco's bicep as he walked you to and from classes. You giggled at things he said, unearthing Draco's true smile.

As you and Draco made your way through the crowded corridors of Hogwarts, the usual mix of chatter and laughter surrounded you. You felt the warmth of Draco's presence beside you, his hand gently brushing against yours. It was becoming more natural, this — the way he would casually touch you, how you fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

But as you passed a group of Gryffindors, you overheard a snide remark.

"Look at them," a voice sneered from behind, barely concealed but sharp. "The perfect pureblood couple, too good for the rest of us. What’s next? A bloodline superiority contest?"

It was none other than Ron Weasley, his freckled face twisted with distaste. He was trying to make his voice loud enough for you to hear, his words dripping with sarcasm.

You felt your stomach tighten, the familiar sting of his words rising, but before you could say anything, Draco’s posture stiffened. His eyes flashed with the familiar Malfoy fire — directed entirely toward Weasley.

Draco turned slowly, his voice low but cold. “You’ve got something to say, Weasel?” His tone was biting, devoid of any warmth, the kind of tone that demanded respect — something Ron would never give him willingly. "Or are you just jealous of what you’ll never have? A girlfriend?"

Ron’s eyes widened in disbelief, his face turning redder by the second. He opened his mouth to retort, but Draco didn’t give him the chance.

“Really, Weasley,” Draco continued, his voice dripping with venom, “the only thing you’re good at is making a fool of yourself.” He took a step closer to Ron, his presence intimidating in a way only Draco Malfoy could manage. “Do you really think I’d let someone like you speak about her? Your opinion doesn’t matter. You wouldn't even know what to do with a girl like this.”

Ron’s fists clenched tighter, his knuckles white with frustration. “You’re a pompous prat, Malfoy. You really think you’re better than me?” he spat, taking a step forward, but the glint in Draco’s eyes made him hesitate.

You finally spoke up, a cool, calm expression on your face.

"You know, Ronald," you hummed, crossing your arms. "You embarrassed yourself by even opening your mouth. Do you really think your opinion on Draco or me holds any weight?"

Ron’s face reddened even further.

"Go back to stitching up your hand-me-downs. You could never measure up to Draco if you tried. You were right. We are too good for the likes of you or your meddling friends," you continued.

Draco stood silently by your side, watching with an almost surprised expression as you effortlessly tore into Ron’s pride. It was clear now — he wasn’t the only one with a sharp tongue. Yours, however, was just the type that only appeared when provoked.

“Every time something unfortunate happens at this school, it’s you and your posse behind it. It’s truly remarkable,” you finished, your voice filled with a calm, poised certainty that matched Draco's own demeanor.

Ron had no response, his mouth working without producing any words. The usual Weasley bravado was gone, replaced by a mixture of disbelief and humiliation.

"To make a long story short, shut your pathetic mouth before I hex it." You finished, glaring at him.

Draco finally lead you away.

Draco couldn't help but look at you with an expression that was a mix of pride and admiration. The way you'd handled Ron—completely dismantling him with ease—was both effortless and terrifying in the best way possible. You'd taken control of the situation without even breaking a sweat.

“Impressive,” Draco murmured under his breath, his eyes scanning your face as you walked side by side down the corridor, your steps in sync. There was something about the way you carried yourself, something that resonated with him more than anything had in a long time. You were a force, no doubt about it.

“I couldn't allow the disrespect. Especially towards you, Dray,” you said with a smirk.

Draco’s lips curled into a proud smile, his eyes gleaming with something deeper than usual. "I knew you had it in you," he said, his voice low and laced with admiration. "You handled that better than I could’ve imagined."

You glanced up at him, your smirk still lingering. "I learned from the best," you teased, nudging him playfully with your shoulder.

Draco raised an eyebrow, looking down at you in amusement. "Flattery will get you everywhere," he replied, his tone amused yet sincere. There was something undeniably magnetic between the two of you — a connection that everyone could sense but no one could truly understand.

As you continued walking, you noticed students quietly watching as you passed, whispers spreading like wildfire. The two of you were no longer just a couple; you were a force to be reckoned with. It was clear now that Draco’s reputation and yours had fused together, creating something that couldn’t be easily ignored.

"Careful," Draco said, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "Soon, they'll start thinking we run the place."

You gave him a mischievous smile. "Maybe we do."

He chuckled, his arm wrapped into yours, the tension from the earlier confrontation now replaced by a comfortable quiet. It was as if the world had shifted, and for the first time, you felt as though you truly belonged — not just by his side, but in your own skin, confident and unyielding.

"Shall we take this somewhere more private?" Draco murmured, a playful edge in his voice, though the heat in his gaze said there was more to the suggestion than just teasing. "Your show has me in a rather.. intriguing mood."

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a heat rising in your chest. "Lead the way, Draco."

[chrollohearttags]

°˖✧✿✧˖° lose it • e. jaeger °˖✧✿✧˖°

📃: musician!eren, influencer reader, nipple play, subby eren, footjob, overstimulation, mentions of other suggestive themes, riding, orgasm denial (if you squint)

📝: posted this on Patreon a while back but like with everything I wrote, it got taken down. So here it is again bc this man is on my mind again 😩 I’ll be revisiting this au again very soon

wc: 1.1K

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

“Shit!—princesssss..oh fuck…”

“Eren, babe..you gotta be quiet. We’re gonna get caught.”

a tall request to ask of your musician husband at the moment but you’d still try nonetheless. Tossing a cupped palm around his mouth, (y/n) (l/n) tried your hardest to stifle those loud moans escaping his lips but to no avail. To think that the same EJ the Don, who was just on stage performing and rapping the most obscene lyrics..had now been reduced to a babbling mess by his pretty little wife. Truthfully though, you were just biding your time until you could get him all to yourself. See, the two of you had entered into a contract for the duration of his international tour and your group, the Pole Assassins, would be hoping his collective, Dead Boys. This was following the aftermath of a scandal with another artist who refused to allow you to be the main dancer on his stage. Naturally, it was all of you or none at all. So your husband, entering a new era with his artistry..wanted you to be around for the journey. Although you were hesitant, and felt as if his fanbase wouldn’t be receptive to it, you were completely wrong. From the states to Europe, you girls were the talk of the entire performance. Whilst Eren and the rest of his crew swooned sultry lyrics during slower tracks, you all were right there twirling above them…doing unbelievable stunts. When it came to more high energy joints, you’d rejoin them and mirror that of the girls in the strip club. There was one track in particular where you and Eren had a solo stunt. You’d climb to the top of the pole and when the beat dropped, you’d come down split leg into his lap as he sat in a chair with his thighs spread wide. Money would fall from the ceiling and accompany you. It was a variation of your infamous Kiss of Death that had gone viral countless times. You’d even have segments where you’d invite fans up on stage to try and mimic your movements and they’d have a blast. Especially at the 18+ shows. Not to mention all of the offstage antics between your groups…even your manager, choreographer friends and hairstylists were on the trip and it was a ball. Needless to say, all of you were having a good time!

however, fans began to notice that a new sound wasn’t the only change in EJ. His appearance was different as well. His skin seemed to glow something serious. His once defined abs were back and his outfits seemed to become a lot more revealing. He was coming out his shirt more; chains banging against his chest during performances and that large collection of tattoos seemed to grow even bigger. Even some of the crew’s wardrobe resembled that of an idol group when they performed together with different variations for each. But perhaps the most noticeable change? Those silver bars protruding from his pectorals. Particularly his nipples! Piercings he’d acquired one night on a whim, when you divulged how sexy they’d look on him. Granted, it wasn’t as if you were pushing the issue or even begging him to but when it came to his princess, he’d all but jump off the edge of the earth to see you smile. Naturally, it was the exact reaction he got too!..you were utterly shocked when he came back to your hotel room, climbed on top of you and began ravaging your body. That night, he fucked you like an absolute dog!..fingers in your mouth as he fed you backshots, placing you into a headlock and even twisting you up akin to a pretzel as he forced you into orgasm after orgasm..pounding your throat from the side of the bed. He even went for some backdoor exploration when he discovered you’d brought an anal plug along for the trip! You’d definitely had your fair share of wild nights with Eren but this one was insane. Three years of marriage but he was treating you like a slut off of the street..it was so fucking hot! His only explanation? He was egregiously horny after getting his piercings done. All he could think about was getting back to you!

But now, it was time to return the favor…right after the show, the two of you found yourselves in (y/n)’s dressing room. Sprawled out on the pink leather couch with his fishnet top ripped around as your tongue swirled around his sensitive buds. You’d start off by slowly kissing them..licking and lapping. Meanwhile, your acrylic fingertips wrapped around his shaft and stroked it. His cock was seeping with precum and was equally as red as those rhinestones as your outfit for the night. You even made him sit in front of you with your legs coiling his waist as your clear Pleasers rubbed up against his throbbing member..you’d never seen him so overstimulated in your life. You were afraid he was going to bust any second! However, he’d just continue begging for more..panting and whining as you played his most erogenous areas. ‘Baby..calm down. Someone’s gonna hear us, okay?” Which was absolutely unfair to ask! He was so damned aroused, he didn’t know what to do. Being this vulnerable wasn’t typically how you guys’ sex life went. You were normally the one whining and whimpering for more!..but alas, tables had turned.

“B-but I can’t..just feels so good..” It was a crime how cute he looked at the moment! Rutting himself into the palm of your hand and biting his lip to attempt to stifle his moans. You’d make it all but impossible to refrain from reaching climatic bliss when you asked him to lie flat on his back so you could ride him. From the moment you positioned yourself on his crotch, peeling those panties back and sinking his cock into your warmth, you would’ve sworn that your husband was looking at a ghost. His eyes stretched three times their own size until they eventually rolled back. That thick, heavy ass ricocheting off of his lap as those thrusts got harder. All the while, your fingertips caressed his nipples whilst you finally began deriving your own pleasure. Just the thought of him alone was enough to make you reach ecstasy…

“Then let it out, baby..I won’t hold it against you..”

and the way you were fucking on him, was enough to make him lose it!

[museaway]

✍️ yet another list of fic writer asks

You all seem to like these, so here is another batch of writer asks! These questions are a little more relaxed than the last two. Followers can send an ask with a number OR you can reblog and answer everything like a Q&A. I always see a lot of “idk if i’m a writer” in the tags for these so let me just say in advance, yes you are and you can play.

What is the crackiest* thing you’ve ever written? (*I mean this with great affection)

Has writing a fic ever changed your opinion of a character?

Tell us about a headcanon you invented for a fic

Have you ever written a fic inspired by a tumblr post?

How do you know when you’re finished writing a fic? At what point do you call it done?

When do you title your fics? Before you write them? As you write them? While posting to AO3 and that “Work Title” field is staring at you?

Navigate to your complete list of works on AO3. What are your top 5 Additional Tags?

Tell us your shortest and longest titles of all time

The two fandoms you’ve written the most have been suddenly crossed with each other! What AU are you writing?

What’s a phrase you catch yourself using in multiple fics, not necessarily on purpose?

Oh no! You’re posting a fic to AO3 and completely forgot to write a summary. What is your summary-writing strategy?

Do you write in order, jump around the draft, or a mix? Something else?

Congratulations, you’ve just finished the WIP you’ve been working on for months! How are you going to celebrate?

Is there a word or phrase you intentionally use in every fic?

How many times has someone nodded in your current WIP? This is for posterity so be honest

Describe your current WIP with just emojis

When you get a new fic idea, what does that look like in your mind? Does it play out like a film? Do you imagine lines of dialogue or a certain moment? Does a character just sit there staring at you?

If you have noticed themes emerging in your writing, what are they? What broad themes and topics do you enjoy exploring?

It’s a lovely morning in fandom land and a horrible goose is running rampant through your folders. How many WIPs is it going to step on?

What’s the story behind your pen name?

Without getting into any discourse, just thinking as a writer approaching characters, would you ever write about your NOTP? If you did, do you think that would change how you feel about it? (If you’ve done this, how did it go?)

Do you have a fixed writing routine, or do you write when you have time? Is there a time of day when you prefer to write?

What is your #1 distraction when you’re trying to write? If it’s a pet, post a pic

What colors, sights, sounds, textures, etc. inspire you? Do certain environments make you feel more creative than others?

Someone you know outside of fandom has heard that you’re a writer. “I’d like to read something of yours!” they say with sincere enthusiasm. “Where can I find it?” What’s your answer?

Do you have a routine you run through before you write?

Share a random sentence from a WIP. The less context, the better. Be confusing.

You’re out and about, nowhere near your home, when a fantastic story idea pops into your head! What do you do?

Have you ever actually remembered one of those 3am “I’ll remember it in the morning” ideas?

Finish this sentence with your fandom’s variation(s): No beta, we die like _________

[studioeisa]

hello! can i request woozi with jealous prompt 'what? me? jealous? never'? thank youuuu ><

ⵌ jihoon x gose director!reader. ⵌ word count: 1k ⵌ notes: i can't stop writing about jihoon,, 🧎

Jihoon has long since accepted that he can be a jealous man when it matters.

He considers it harmless because it gets him moving. Jealous of a different group's success? He works doubly harder to make good music. Envious of someone else's build? He puts in more hours at the gym.

Jealousy is Jihoon's friend. At least, that's what he keeps on telling himself as you praise Soonyoung for his 'initiative'.

Another day, another filming for Going Seventeen. Today's concept is Christmas-themed: A Secret Santa shopping trip with a negligible budget per person. Jihoon knows he should be focused on getting something halfway decent for Chan— the member he had randomly picked earlier in the day— but he keeps getting distracted.

Soonyoung is looking just a little too pleased, a little too smug at your doting. Jihoon can practically hear the way his best friend is preening as he announces, "It's nothing, really. Just a little idea I had."

Jihoon doesn't even know what the two of you are talking about. He does know, though, that he's not going to hear the end of it from the rest.

It's an open secret, after all, that Jihoon has a crush on you.

He's always found it a bit inconvenient, really. He never thought he'd be the type to catch feelings for a staff member, but forced proximity and your undeniable charm have left him helpless.

It's just a crush, Jihoon has told anyone and everyone who teases him about it. I'll get over it.

Except it's been maybe a year and Jihoon is decisively not over it. He's preparing to deliver some variation of the same denial as Wonwoo sidles up to him, the latter grinning in an infuriating way.

"Don't start with me," Jihoon grumbles, his fingers tightening around the extension arm of his designated GoPro.

Wonwoo raises his shoulders in a shrug. "I'm not saying anything," he says in a tone that very much indicates his plans to say something.

A beat. And then, Wonwoo prompts, "Jealous?"

A derisive snort of laughter escapes Jihoon. He could lie, say something along the lines of What? Me? Jealous. Never, in an attempt to get his friends off his back. But they'd see through him anyway, so what was the point?

"Maybe," Jihoon answers. When Wonwoo only stares at him, Jihoon amends, "A little."

Wonwoo laughs at Jihoon's easy acceptance. The older man throws an arm around Jihoon's shoulders, the force of it almost sending the latter faceplanting into a shelf of keychains.

Jihoon is in the middle of biting out an annoyed "Could you not?!" when Wonwoo stage-whispers to him, "Don't worry. The director has a favorite, and it's not Mr. Steal-Your-Girl over there."

Before Jihoon can even question the taunt, Wonwoo is already peeling off to accomplish his task. The words echo a bit in Jihoon's mind. A favorite. Your favorite.

He wonders, briefly, what it would be like— to have that privilege.

He shakes his head, as if to empty his head of the thought. Wonwoo was just teasing, and Jihoon still has to find a gift for Chan. He spends the next thirty or so minutes wandering the department store, internally debating what to get the group's maknae.

Jihoon is weighing the merits of a Bluetooth shower speaker when he next hears from you.

"You know," you say from behind him. "Those have terrible sound quality."

It's only through years of conditioning that Jihoon doesn't jump, but he can't help the way his heart rate picks up ever so slightly. Still, he manages to keep his expression perfectly calm as he glances over his shoulder.

You look every bit like you always do. Clipboard in your hands; headphones hanging around your neck. An easy grin. The picture of the director who has robbed Jihoon of all his rational thought time and time again.

"Well, you didn't give us much to work with," he answers dryly.

"That's the challenge," you tease. "A low-budget exchange gift."

Jihoon sets down the speaker before turning to fully face you. "What would you suggest, then, if this is a bad gift?"

Your gaze flicks down to the GoPro. You didn't typically converse with the boys while they were shooting; if you did, the content was typically cut.

Something compels Jihoon to hit the 'pause' button on his device. "Off the record," he insists, a corner of his lip tugging up in the ghost of a smirk.

There's something unmistakably fond in the way you laugh, in how you choose to indulge Jihoon instead of insisting that he should keep filming.

"You got Chan, right?" You tilt your head to one side as if you're mulling it over. "I saw him fawning over the tealight candles earlier. If you're in the mood to be a menace, though, he thought the beanie hats were deplorable."

Jihoon lets out a chuckle of his own. "Got it," he says. "Candle, hat. Thanks for the intel, director."

It should end there. He should walk away, should turn the GoPro back on and film the rest of the show.

But Jihoon has never been very good at doing what he should, and his mind keeps replaying Wonwoo's earlier words.

And so, he finds himself asking, "What about you?"

Your eyebrows raise. "Me?"

"What would you like for Christmas?"

You look thrown off. Understandably so. "Oh," you say, your tone just a little softer. "That's not—"

Necessary, you're probably going to say. Jihoon cuts you off with a small shake of his head.

"We could have a little exchange gift of our own," he goes on. Jihoon has no idea where this is all coming from. The confidence in his flirtation. The smoothness of his words. It's a rare thing, but he's not going to let it go now that it's here. "I'll get you something if you get me something."

You laugh again, and then you give Jihoon the perfect opening. "What would you even want for Christmas, Jihoon-ah?"

Jealous has always been Jihoon's friend. It gets him moving.

It gets him to admit, "Easy. I'd want you."

୨ৎ * GAME, SET, PLAY ! ( JEALOUSY ) DRABBLE GAME.

[euon111a]

SmokeStack Blues: Another Alphabet

summary: the other half of the Smokestack abc’s

warnings: again, obvious NSFW themes, relatively tame

notes: so I made this version significantly shorter compared to the stack alphabet, I was a little extra for the other one, so I tried to keep this version within like two paragraphs. all of my work so far is in second pov for afab, so this is too. this also isn’t proofread, and i actually hate this but i kinda had to have this part out, so let’s pretend it doesn’t exist.

A is for Aftercare:

Elijah is big with aftercare, he’s awfully quiet when he’s taking care of you, sometimes won’t even speak until he’s regained his breathing and you’ve stopped panting.

He likes the silence, not that uncomfortable kind but the peaceful kind. He’ll keep one arm wrapped around you, running his fingers up and down your arm, tracing small patterns before the silence gets too loud. He’ll fetch you anything you’ll need without you having to ask; get you a glass of water, draw you a warm bath, fetch you a blanket. Anything you can think of, he’ll make sure he’s gotten on top of. He’ll never leave your side, make sure you’re scrubbed clean and taken care of before finally saying something. “You feel alright, mama? D’you want more bubbles?”

B is for Body:

He secretly likes every part of you, and it shows. He can’t choose one part that he favors the most, but he loves you from top to bottom.

He loves your thighs. He loves the way they look, the way they feel, and the way they’ll rest against his shoulders when he’s eating you out. He likes grabbing them, squeezing them, kissing the inside of your thighs when he’s in between them. He likes the way they quiver and tremble against him when he’s stroking deep into you.

He likes his hands the most out of his body. It’s a basic answer, but he likes being able to touch you, being able to feel the softness of your skin against the callous of his hands. Likes the feeling of those fancy bedsheets you got, likes the feeling of silk against his hands, and especially likes the feeling of your hands in his. It’s a nice contrast.

C is for Cum:

He gets off on using your thighs in a way that's all about pushing boundaries. For him, they're a tool to use when it’s late at night. He loves the way the warm skin feels against him, likes watching the way they engulf his dick.

He’s softer when he’s sliding his cock up and down the slick skin, relishing the way your thighs would squeeze and massage his dick. Maybe it’s the filthiness of it, the sight of it, the feel of it, but it always gets him gripping onto your hips, grunting and letting out labored breaths.

D is for Dirty:

He hates pulling out. Doesn’t like it. Once he got that confirmation that he didn’t have to pull out anymore, he was quick to fuck into you and let himself cum deep.

He loves nothing more than to see his cum leaking outta you. The sight of it dripping down sets something off in him. Likes the look of when you clench around nothing after he’s pulled out just to have his cum seeping out.

He loves to scoop up the mess with his fingers, and offer it to you. Watches you with a little groan when you lick his fingers clean, immediately leaning in for a kiss.

E is for Experience:

He’s the image of experience. He knows your likes, your dislikes, your comforts, what makes you tick, that spot that makes your eyes roll back.

He’s good at reading your body language. Has this talent of knowing where to keep fucking into, of where to keep pressing and kissing against. Uses those telltale signs; the way you’d clench around him, that change in your expression, the shaky breathing. “Mmm, I know, I know, taking me so well.”

F is for Favorite position:

He needs some variation, doesn’t like the idea of always having you on your back or always having you on all fours. Wants to do what’ll make you feel good, no matter what.

Reverse cowgirl: Likes the feeling of resting his hands against your stomach to pull you closer, gives him a better feel of your breasts, and a better view of your ass moving. Plus it’s easier for him to pull you back and rock his hips up against yours.

Spooning: Loves cuddling you from behind, kissing your shoulder as he’s got one hand beneath your thigh, gently spreading your legs apart just enough to sloppily fuck into you.

Doggy style: Likes the opportunity of pinning you down against the mattress, guiding your hips back against him as he rocks himself into you. Gives him a better reach of your clit, to see the way you wrap and clench around him.

G is for Goofy:

When he’s in there, he’s focused. Views being with you during intimate situations serious and passionate, and strides away from humor, but he will be playful if he feels like it.

He’s got this natural, almost instinctive dominance to him, and it bleeds through to how he is in bed. He tells you how it is, openly and honestly. He’ll be honest about what he wants, what he needs, and what he craves. Sometimes, he’ll make a teasing comment on how worked up and wet you are or some mocking/playful joke on how loud you are; “Look at you, leaking like a faucet,” or “Shhh, gonna scream your throat raw.”

H is for Hair:

He’s got this (almost) obsessive attention to detail and that goes with his looks. Safe to assume that he would be well-groomed and put-together in all aspects. Including his intimate areas.

His hair is tidy, well-kept and always groomed. He doesn’t shave, doesn’t like the feeling, but he’s thoroughly trimmed. He doesn’t let himself get too wild down there, strives for cleanliness.

I is for Intimacy:

He needs eye contact when he’s alone with you, even if it’s just for two seconds, cause Lord knows you get all shy about it. He likes that connection there, being able to see and feel you, and eye contact is that first step.

He likes watching every flicker of emotion and feeling on your face, those subtle shifts in your eyes. He’s got his hands and his lips all over you, rubbing the sides of your ribs, kissing you soft and messy. “So fucking gorgeous, so so pretty.” He’s especially selfless, prioritizes you over him all the time, especially when it comes to your pleasure. He’s watching you, kissing you, holding you, adjusting his thrusts to be slower and faster just from the look on your face.

J is for Jack off:

He’s only ever jerked off by himself a few times; when he was away, and when it’s too late at night and you’re already sleeping. Hates doing it without you watching, doesn’t give him that same satisfaction, but he’s not a very patient person when it comes to masturbating.

He’s not sure what it is about having you watch that makes it so much easier, feels better than hiding off in some bathroom to fuck into his fist when all he’s thinking about is you. He likes the encouragement from you, the feeling of your hands on his knees, that look in your eyes. “Keep looking—keep them pretty eyes on me.”

K is for Kink:

He’s relatively tame, isn’t too vanilla but isn’t too much of a freak to put you off. He finds that perfect balance between being safe and being reckless.

Sensory deprivation: He fucking loves it, both giving and receiving. He likes the way you’ll lean forward when he’s got your eyes covered by some makeshift blindfold, the way you’ll call out for him when he takes too long to touch you. He gets impatient when you do it, says up and down that he hates it, but he’s literally leaking through his pants. “Baby, c’mon now, stop teasing and sit on my face.”

Breath play: Now he’s gentle with it, won’t be too hard, won’t hold his hand around your throat for too long or press too heavy. He won’t risk that. He loves sliding his hand around your throat and squeezing right in the middle of a moan, just to hear the way the moan would trail off into this whiny gasp. But then he’d kiss the shock away, tonguing your neck all slowly.

Messy sex & kissing: Messy kissing is something he can never get enough of. Makes things feel more raw and hungry when it’s all tongue and breathless sighs against each other. Face fucking, sloppy blow jobs, messy hair and creampies are something he’ll go all out for.

L is for Location:

He prefers somewhere secluded, and private. Wants to make sure you feel respected but somewhere different enough that it feels new. The three B’s are important to him.

Balcony: He’s extra fucking careful when he’s got you against the railings, doesn’t want you to get scratched up by the material. He’s thrusting all too slow, all too deep and all too rough, rubbing small circles against your clit. He’d pull out if you get too loud, gently resting his hand over your mouth just to slide into you again. “C’mon mama, gotta be quiet this time.”

Bathtub: The water always made it easier for you to rub up against his dick, coating it in the fragrant, bubbly suds and the slick of you. He’d guide you with a gentle lift of his hips, resting his hand on your back as you grind yourself back and forth on his lap. He was quicker to guide his dick into you, slipping in and out with each wave of the steamy water.

Bedroom: It’s the choice. Wants you to be comfortable, and relaxed. Fully exposed to him when you’re lying on your back. He’ll bear hug you, kissing and biting at your neck, gently wiping damp strands of hair from your face. If he’s not bucking up into you when you’re both in bed, then he’s doing it when you’re bent over the kitchen counter, guiding you down to ride him when he’s laying down on the couch or fisting your hair and fucking your face in the hallway.

M is for Motivation:

Literally everything about you. The way you look, the way you speak, the way you walk, the way you smell. He likes that emotion there, the way you match him so perfectly, the way you say what you want, how you feel.

He loves the passion, likes seeing your eyebrows come together when you’re annoyed, likes when you’d get angry and ignore him just to have him apologizing with his head between your legs. Liked feeling the way you arch up into his hand when he’s feeling all up on you, likes the way you’d scratch at his back when he’s rough, loved when you’d get all teary eyed from over stimulation just so he can kiss them away.

N is for No:

He loves you with all his soul, and he’d never put you in a position where you questioned that, where you were uncomfortable and felt uneasy in any way.

He’d never hurt you, physically, emotionally, mentally. He’d do his best to keep you happy, to make sure your needs and wants were always fulfilled. He’d never force any ideas or thoughts on you, would need for you to be comfortable, for some verbal communication before doing things. He’d want you to feel safe and for there to be mutual understanding.

Now since he’s direct, and open with whatever he wants, he’d want the same thing. He doesn’t like the whole second guessing bullshit, he needs you to know what you want and what you need.

O is for Oral:

He’s a sloppy eater. Doesn’t care about the mess, just likes the feel of your thighs tryna clench shut and the grip of your hands on his shoulders and tugging at his hair.

He might start off slow, soft licks, gentle kisses, slight sucks, but the more you squirm the further things progress. He’ll let you buck your hips down against his mouth if you’re sitting on his face, lets you wiggle all you want when he’s in between your legs. He’s got his entire attention on you solely, watching your face, resting one hand on the side of your thigh as the other gently runs up along the slick mess you’ve both made just to press another sloppy kiss on your clit.

He’s a groaner when you’ve got him in your mouth. He’s got his head hung back against the head of the couch, one hand firmly rested against the back of your head as the other is clutching onto the couch cushions to keep himself from fucking your throat. “Jus’ like that, baby,” he’ll get a bit sensitive, buck his hips up against your face, sucking in heavy breaths, tangling his hand into your hair to guide you further down his dick. “Don’t be shy, go’n—fuck—goood girl.”

P is for Pace:

He craves that slow sexual intimacy. Wants to spend as much time as possible strictly feeling you, soaking in the feeling of your lips on his, the warmth of your body under his hands. He likes to keep building that energy and that need until he’s decided of how hard he’s gonna be.

He’ll like it rough and long, he’ll slow down a bit, just to prolong the moment. When he wants to savor and draw out every moment of the intimacy, he’ll take a slower, more sensual approach, massaging your skin, kissing your face, working away any tension. When he’s fucking you, he’ll thrust deep and hard, grabbing your thighs to bring them around his hips to give him a better angle.

Q is for Quickie:

He sees quickies as a something for immediate relief, something needed when he’s real wound up and doesn’t want to take the time like he usually does. Helps him get rid of stress, that momentary annoyance and the pent up frustration of life.

He had you bent over the counter, resting his hand on the side of your face to keep you from leaning too closely to the cold counter. He wasn’t sure what he was angry at, not sure it even mattered now with the way you was clenching around him. He was quick with it, kissing the back of your head and reaching down to rub your clit as he bucked messy into you.

R is for Risk:

He’s open minded to exploring, but it’d have to be talked about or something that he knows would make you comfortable not uncomfortable.

He’s probably always down for new things just for some change and to avoid the same things. He won’t do anything crazy that would hurt you in any way. Maybe a few new sex toys or stuff to bind you up, but nothing outside of that.

S is for Stamina:

He’s good at pacing himself and paying attention to your needs, desires, and comfort. But he also recovers very quickly.

At his best, he can go 5 rounds of 25 before needing a more substantial break, which only depends on his mood, your preferences and your comfort. He’s never once gone over 5, but certain times he’ll make certain rounds longer than the others, whether for your or his pleasure.

T is for Toys:

He’s open minded to them, but he’s probably only exploring or owning them specifically for you.

He’ll look for things like restraints, blindfolds, or spanking toys. He’s got a clit vibrator to stimulate you better if he’s fingering you, maybe one of those dual sided ones just so he can see how it feels.

U is for Unfair:

He loves teasing, like when you do it and especially likes your reaction to when he teases you.

He loves to use suggestive language and dirty talk, and he loves that you don’t shy away from it. He likes to play, and likes to purposefully draw things out just to build it up. He’ll start with slow, sensual touches before speeding up and then completely stopping just to hear you get all riled up.

V is for Volume:

He’s never quiet, he’s extremely vocal. If he’s not grunting or cursing under his breath, he’s talking to you, praising you or telling you how good you’re being.

He’s a panter. They’re often interrupted by his own groans when he’s in you, letting out low gasps and drawn out groans when he’s leaning against you. He’s louder when he’s about to cum, grunting and groaning all breathlessly; “Mmmffuck”, “Ohh shit”.

W is for Wildcard:

If he gets too focused, he’ll get real quiet and completely tune out everything and everyone around him. He’s laser focused on whatever task it is and won’t snap out of the trance until he’s finished it.

Sometimes he’ll tap his fingers on the surface of a counter if he’s out, or he’ll tap the side of his hip when he’s focused. His eyebrows will be furrowed together in a way that makes him intimidating but not unapproachable. He’ll hum to himself like he’s agreeing or disagreeing with whatever thoughts he’s got going on in his head, and he hates to be interrupted when he’s in the middle of it.

X is for X-ray:

He’s more muscular than his brother. He’s got it where he needs it. He likes the look, he needed the build when he was a soldier, and after he left he kept his build by working out more often.

His skin is tan and coarse from all his time outside. His skin is smooth and relatively hairless, save for a trail of fine, dark hair that runs down his abdomen and disappears beneath his waistband. His dick is a little more thick than it is long, has a vein on the left side that shows even when he’s soft. His tip’s a deep caramel, but the slit reaches a red color when he’s overstimulated. He’s a grower, reaching about 8 when he’s hard, with a little upward left curve to it.

Y is for Yearning:

He needs you. Needs everything about you. He’s not shy about his reactions, how he responds, how he’s open with how he is towards you. He’ll always come to you and ask you first about your availability and willingness.

He has a deep appreciation for the full spectrum of intimate acts, kissing, caressing, teasing, and touch. He sees these acts as essential components of sex, and uses them to his advantage. He is always thinking of new ways to surprise, and satisfy you. Because he is willing to discuss his needs with you, he wants to ensure that you can do the same, that you’re on the same page and both enjoying things, not just the sex. “This pussy was made for me, ain’t that right, baby?”

Z is for Zzz:

He's a restless sleeper at the best of times, so he likes to stay up and just talk. He says he’s not much of a cuddler, but he’ll keep you close to him either way.

He’ll wait for you to yawn or for you to lay on your side before mentioning sleep. He takes great pleasure in savoring the afterglow. He’ll stroke your hair, gently tracing the curves of your face and body with his fingertips, committing every detail to memory. Once you’re asleep, he’ll shift into a more comfortable position, either spooning you or pulling you in close so that your back is pressed against his chest. Ensuring that you’ll remain close and safe in his embrace as you sleep, he’ll finally close his eyes (and attempt to fall asleep).