#also still need to write that smut oneshot that's just a one night stand with astrotrain

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Ok this is very random but how do you think Ghost would deal w an s/o who is still a virgin at a very big girl age 🥴 maybe they’d be seeing each other for a while, and when things heat up and she confesses, how would he deal? Would he be honored and accept being her first or would he reject her altogether bc she is inexperienced?

(Because I’m in my 20s and safe to say on top of everything else in my life except this, I haven’t come across anyone with whom I’d like to be intimate with yet and though I try not to let it get to me, some part of me sometimes feels like a freak or like something is wrong with me)

I hope I did not cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable by sharing this, if I did I apologize and please feel free to delete this ❤️🕊️

Ghost x FVirgin!Reader Word count: 2,9 k Tags/warnigs: Mild smut, light angst, fluff, comfort, praise & size kink Summary: Reader tells Ghost they’re a virgin while things are about to go down. 

A/N: Oh anon!! No boundaries crossed here at all! Your request (or at least I took it as such and got inspired to write a brief oneshot about it) was very sweet. This of course is my HC but Simon would only and only take pride in being your first. He would get a huge ego boost from this and feel absolutely privileged to hear he's worthy of such trust.  I think he would want to imprint himself in your head as the best man and the best sex partner you will ever have – he would do his all to eradicate even the very thought of wanting to try others after him. Again, an ego thing, but also a desperate wish to please his partner and make them feel safe. This man screams service top to me. I think Simon has a wild side – not mean, just wild, as in he might be into rough sex and certain types of kinky stuff every now and then but only if his partner is willing. He would be very gentle and considerate (passionate as hell though), knowing you're inexperienced, he would make you feel as safe as possible and wait until you were ready and willing to explore things further.  Also, I can't help but be moved by what you told me in this message. I understand where you're coming from with these "is there something wrong with me" thoughts, because gosh, I feel you! And speaking from experience… it's 110 % worth it to wait for the right person to come along! Sex can be awesome, mind-blowing, one of the best things – with the right partner. Not worth it with just whomever, imho. Stay safe and trust yourself! And I hope you like this short drabble I made for Ghost x Virgin!Reader ❤️❤️❤️ much love 😘

Simon Riley was a one of a kind man. 

He put every guy on every dating app to shame, and not just with his size. He was manly, in a word, even if you never knew you wanted such an overly masculine man. At least, not until you met him. 

Simon was not only sturdy and mature – he was armed with calm rage and dark humor. Just one look in his eyes told you he was not the life of the party. Actually, he was Death himself: one of those four horsemen that heralded the Apocalypse.

Perhaps unintelligibly, the same man was also extremely considerate. A true gentleman if there ever was one. He always placed you and your needs first. But underneath the calm, cynical surface you sensed fierce intensity: fire and smoke, something that screamed Danger, high voltage.

And you could not keep away. Quite the opposite, really. The combination of a wildfire and a tornado roaring upon this solid bedrock of a man was simply alluring.

Things had gone a little too far without you meaning them to. You were not a woman of one night stands, actually, you had never had a stand. But Simon changed that, too. Because now you were thinking about sleeping with him. 

After years and years of waiting for someone sensible to come along, you had begun to lose hope, especially when people seemed to fuck left and right while you wanted something real.

A bedrock. 

With that wildfire. Perhaps a tornado thrown in as well.

After weeks and weeks of flirting, the man asked you out, and after weeks and weeks of going out, you came to the conclusion that if someone deserved to be your first, it was Simon Riley. If there was any guy you wished would take you against a wall until you begged for mercy, it was him. At least in your fantasies, which were starting to get out of hand.

In real life, things were not that breezy.

Because what would he say if – no, when – you told him you were a virgin at this age? What if he would be bothered, what if things would get awkward between you two? 

What if he decided you were simply too much trouble than you were worth? 

It seemed like a miracle that the guy was still around, having been left blue-balled date after date. Either he was hellbent on conquering you, or then… Well, you didn't even dare to think about or's and then's and what if's. Especially when your own feelings were getting equally out of hand as those fantasies.

He probably had plenty of experience, and the thought certainly didn't make you feel any better. How would you compare, being not only inexperienced but a whole goddamn virgin? And it would probably hurt on top of everything. This man must be pretty damn big downstairs if 6 '4 feet and large hands were any indication.

Still, all fears flew out the window in record time every time he pulled you into a kiss. Your body molded into his already: the broad shoulders closed in around you, and it only felt thrilling. His warmth, his arms and scent enveloped you like the sweetest prison, and you held onto him as tightly as you could. Not because he wasn't clutching you with the same–if not greater–fervor, but because you wanted to make sure he was real.

And you realized what the allure of Simon Riley was. 

He felt safe.

In fact, he was safe. He represented safety in all its aspects. 

Who would've thought that death and wildfire could feel so good, so reliable?

You wondered if he thought this was some game; that you kept him waiting. The unwritten rule seemed to be that it was ok not to jump into bed on the first date. If anything, it was only a decent move. But what did the rules say about the second, third or fourth date? Not to talk about tenth? 

Things were starting to resemble some prudent high school romance. Well, perhaps not prudent, the way you two practically ground against each other while making out after every date. Without being vocal about it or pressuring you in any way, you could tell he wished for things to go further. Hell, every fiber in this man begged for more. He would soon burn your clothes off simply with that searing gaze alone. 

Watching the door close on that heated stare after at least 15 minutes of wanton, wicked kissing followed by clumsy Good night's and shy, apologetic smiles just wouldn't do anymore. The poor man was left breathless and puzzled in the cold night with nothing but a hard-on and the crumbs you gave him to keep him warm. 

Things were getting ridiculous, criminally so, and you felt pity for those pants trying to keep him in confinement. You felt pity for your own soaked underwear as you climbed to a lonely bed all hot, bothered, and wet.

Which was why this evening would end with you asking him to come inside. 

.  .  .

Lately, his hands have started to roam; they even cup your ass as he moans in your mouth – and hearing that raspy, low sound leave him forces the final decision. It's the final prophecy that tells you he is the one. You should’ve known it was only a matter of time with him.

The man hides his surprise well as you invite him in.

"Thought you'd never ask," he gives you a soft chuckle before stepping over the threshold to not only your apartment but also your life and privacy. 

You barely get out of your shoes before his shadow engulfs you and strong hands lift you in his lap like you weigh nothing at all. You instinctively reach for support by clasping your hands behind his neck. 

"You really know how to torture a man, don't you?" The brown in his eyes is nearly swallowed by warm darkness as he carries you to the bedroom. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, and he gives a short laugh of gravel.

"Don't be. This has been fun." 

He sets you down next to the bed, and your heart is thumping so bad you fear he can hear it banging against your chest. 

"But it's about time I torture you, right?"

Oh God…

Things happen so fast that it’s hard to tell who undresses who, but somehow, you find yourself standing in your bedroom with nothing but knickers and a bra on while he's taking off his pants. The man has definitely waited for this to happen for god knows how long, and it only makes your stomach lurch.

He thinks you know what you're doing, your brain offers when it should know when it’s time to shut the hell up. You can see the generous bulge this man is packing, and while perhaps compelling to other women, to you, it mainly looks intimidating. Threatening, almost.

He doesn't take his boxers off, seeing you're just standing there like some statue, still in your underwear and almost shaking from thoughts running rampant. 

His form swallows you as he steps closer; wide hands slide up your arms, then draw you against him – against that demanding pulse that gets trapped between you two. Even through the black cloth, you can tell he's thick and big, just like you feared.

The man is blazing, and seems to have grown another foot in height as he towers over you with all that muscle. His shoulders are almost the size of your head, and you already know the hand that runs down your spine is experienced in crushing windpipes. It makes you breathe in shivers, and of course he notices something is wrong.

"Everything good?" He's eager and breathless, the erection pressing against you like a threat. He’s a man who has fashioned a weapon out of himself, so it shouldn't be a surprise that everything in him speaks violence.

"Yes," you try to assure him – a lousy lie only punctuated by the audible gulp that leaves your throat as you try to swallow your nerves back down.

"You afraid…?" 

"Just a little nervous," you tell him, a half confession.

"Mm. That makes two of us." 

He draws down into a kiss, the hands of a soldier and a killer nearly drawing you up from the ground as he pulls you close. You don't really buy his claim of being nervous too: you can feel how he throbs between you, heavy and impatient. 

Hesitantly, you reach to hug him as well, and you feel so small, so insignificant when wrapped around this… giant. The knowledge that you're about to be trapped under all this crushing weight leaves you both faint and needy. 

He’s a good kisser, but as he moves to devour your neck, you start to freeze from the middle.

"Alright… Come here."

He half carries, half lays you down on the bed, then crawls between your legs and changes his tactic a little. Gentle kisses are ghosted down your throat, and soon, he's at your breasts, soft as a whisper. But as he draws the fabric of your bra aside, your nipple is caught inside a hot, wet mouth, and the wildfire surges forth. There’s no way out from under him anytime soon, and you realize the colossal body is already spreading your thighs wide. 

The way he already looks so damn good there between your legs: big, the epitome of raw, masculine power… It's almost sinful that a man like him is here with a virgin. It's a whole new hell how he's kissing you gently as fuck while blazing like a bonfire about to engulf and devour you. You want to wrap your legs around his middle, attach yourself to him in any way you can, but your thighs are weak pudding. 

You feel both lost and found with him. In him.

He sucks and kisses your breasts like they're the only thing he's here for – and it feels good, heavenly, to be honest. But then he starts to travel down.

Shit… You need to tell him – and soon, or else there will be no time to say anything before the last of the shielding fabric is gone.

"Simon…?"

"Mm-hm?" 

He doesn't even stop with the kissing, merely hums on your skin as his mouth reaches your stomach.

"You're my first," you finally force the truth into the night; a soft and desperate fact. It's only the faintest breath, but he halts abruptly like he has been stabbed between the ribs.

Great… 

Here comes the awkward.

He rises. Softly, slowly, like a shadow, just a second away from getting to what's between your legs.

"Is that so?"

His voice is hoarse and dark from arousal. The whole man is intoxicating, and your heart is hammering in your chest, both from hunger and dread.

"Yes…?" 

A broad hand comes to rest on the dip of your waist; gently, like you're some frightened animal about to dart off from under his touch. 

"Love… Are you sure you want to do this?"

Are you? You almost ask, then bite your lip.

He just called you love, something he has never done before. You can see your breasts rising with the breaths you try to calm down with sheer willpower. 

He lets out a small sigh, then crawls beside you and takes you in his arms. The bed sags and wails under his weight before your body is pulled into a delicious bear hug.

"Sweetheart."

His voice is so smooth, so different from the intense, rough smoke that has followed you up until this point that you feel vehement tears burn your eyes. First love, and now, sweetheart…

"There's no need to rush things," he says while keeping you close. Ever the gentleman, but you fear that you've ruined everything.

"We haven't exactly been rushing," you mutter somewhere in the plates of his chest. You both feel and hear how another sigh travels up his throat and is breathed into the crown of your head.

"Now… listen to me, ok? I've wanted you ever since we met. Can't deny it. But the last thing I want is to force you to do something you don’t wanna do."

You squeeze your eyes shut from what he says. Ever since you met… You can remember the lingering gazes, the way his eyes lit up with something hopeful and pure, how it drove away the exhaustion that seemed to have made a home in this big, brooding man. You remember how he stole a few stares up and down your body, too; remember the hunger he never even tried to conceal – not until now.

He is the most enthralling being you have ever seen, a mystery and a force of nature, an indomitable man, and to say that you haven't thought about him that way ever since too would be a lie.

"But I want it," you look up at him slowly, feeling much safer now that he's holding you like this.

I want you.

You realize you're pouting when the warm look in his eyes gains a playful glint as he laughs softly.

"You want it?"

"Yes."

That little twinkle turns into a downright gleam as he looks at you like you're the most adorable thing he has ever seen.

“You want it with me?”

“Yes.”

"How much do you want it?" The charred voice is so soft now: it washes over you in generous waves. His hands keep you in safe custody – and you're the most willing prisoner there ever has been.

"Pretty badly?" You breathe into the air between you and see the corner of his mouth tug.

"Well, in that case…" His hand sweeps down your back and comes to reside on the swell of your hip. "I'm glad I'm here to help."

Pale eyelashes drop to your lips just before he kisses you again. You arch in his arms, like a flower leaning towards sunlight; your mouth, your whole being unfurls under his leadership. He rolls partly on top of you, then moves to kiss you all over as you lie on your back: he kisses your chin and neck, your collarbones and the hollow little crevice between them. The hand on your hip brushes down your thigh, then back up, up, until his fingers meet the folds already soaked through the fabric of your underwear. 

His touch is soft, but gains more weight as he sweeps slowly up, then brushes a thumb over the exact location of your clit.

"Oh–" 

He knows what he's found, even without the evidence of your voiceless shake of a breath. He brushes another stroke over it, and it doesn't matter that you still have your undies on – you can feel his weight, the gentle pressure he applies as he draws a circle to usher another soft moan out of you.

"You like that?"

"Mhm," is the only thing you are able to answer.

"That's it…" he cheers you on with calm assurance. "Gonna make you feel good. And that's a promise."

You catch a hint of ego in that promise, but there's something else, too. A fervent devotion, a bottomless need to please you no matter what. The right man, definitely: not someone who is only after their own satisfaction. You don't exactly need the answer anymore, but you ask the final, burning question nonetheless.

"Simon?"

"Speak your mind, love."

"Are you disappointed…?"

He stops again, a breath away from you. 

"Disappointed?" He sounds quite shocked, almost appalled. "...Disa–"

He huffs, then reaches to cup your face. You raise your eyes to his and see that he's…ardent, and very, very serious.

"Love, I'm honored."

You can only blink at the solemn vow, and he slowly shakes his head.

"Silly little thing…" 

It's something he muses almost to himself before he drags his fingers over your sternum and down your stomach, reverently, like you're a piece of precious porcelain. But the heat in his eyes is back, and your fingers curl to grasp a fistful of sheet as his hand disappears underneath the cloth, when he finally touches you with nothing in between.

You suppose it's his middle finger that sweeps over your clit this time, then slips between your folds without effort. It coaxes your thighs open to give him better access, and access he has: he curls the finger until it almost dips inside. Your lips part with a quiet sigh as your chin climbs toward the ceiling.

"Look at that… All wet and sweet for me already."

The way you expose your neck is like an invitation: he buries his face in your neck, tries to drown in the scent and feel of you while gliding across the wetness down below. He spreads moisture on the tight bud, and you jerk a little from how sensitive it is – he huffs a smile in your ear. It makes you release the sheet and reach out to grasp him by the neck, to make him stay precisely where he is, close like this, so close…

"Do ya even know how bloody sweet you are?"

The last of your wits make a vanishing act as he breathes more praise on your skin. You're languid in his arms, feeling both weightless and heavy, like you're sinking into the mattress, and then his hand moves lower; one thick finger is plunged slowly inside. 

Oh God oh God–

You feel him, all of him, filling and spreading you. And it's not enough… not nearly enough.

"We'll take it nice and slow, alright?" He whispers in your ear, and you tighten around him like on command. "Got all night to make a mess of you. That sound good?"

You can't help it: your lips draw into a smile when thinking about all the things he will do to you, all the sweet things you've always waited to happen. 

"Yes."

[d0rothydraws]

Plus size reader has been sick and busy for the last 2 weeks. Sylus has also been busy, resorting in them not having sex for that time. Then, you feel better one day.

content: f!reader, plus size reader, description of fat bodies, very body positive, oral f! receiving, teasing, smut

w/c: 2.4k

Ao3: Here

a/n: I had an idea and it turned into this which was NOT my idea but I hope you enjoy it anyways. I want to write more plus size content as a big girlie myself I need to make my own food for this community.

also i'll be posting less because I'm starting a new job but I'll try to post now and then but also i'm going to try and write a bunch of prompts and oneshots for kinktober so if i do write stuff, I might just be saving it for october.

if theres anything you want to see with any of the boys for kinktober, send me an ask or comment and i'll make a list. I'll write pretty much anything.

You and Sylus have been busy as of late. Meetings, work, other obligations that left you tired. On top of that, for the last week you've been fighting off a cold. So, reluctantly much to the both of you, you had not had sex for two weeks; which for you two, two weeks ago seemed impossible. Two weeks ago it seemed like every few hours you were being dragged away, pulled onto his lap, lifted onto the counter, in the shower, against the door. Everywhere, anytime.

Of course you both were pent up, but your relationship was more than sex. You enjoyed each others company, and he would hold you close no mater how worried you were about getting him sick. He would kiss your forehead, his touch gentle and caring as you waited until you recovered. You swore you drank a years worth of orange juice which, in turn, upset your stomach more. He would tease you about wanting to get better so quickly, that he enjoyed taking care of you. But you knew he was just as eager as you.

So when you woke up one night you noticed how you felt imminently.

The feeling in your throat, gone. The weight behind your eyes, gone. The soreness in your stomach, gone. It was like you were a new person. As you sat up in the bed, knowing Sylus was still awake, probably in the attic watching a movie, your heart raced. You already felt the excitement build inside you as you just thought about what the next couple hours would consist of.

You changed clothes, your frumpy baggy night clothes replaced with a thin tank top that left nothing to the imagination. The curve of your soft stomach poked out slightly through the bottom of the fabric. Shorts replacing the thick pajama pants you've been wearing for two weeks straight. You looked at yourself in the mirror, pleased at the display. You weren't shy about your body. Not anymore, not worth him. He told you time and time again how your curves drove him wild, how his hands would sink into your body. The way your thighs touched and shook as you walked. You caught him looking more than a couple times. And now, with everything on display, your mission had begun.

Making your way up the stairs to the attic you didn't try to be quiet. You knew he would be able to hear you, anyways, you wanted him to see you. As you immerged, the room was dark. Sylus preferred to use a projector, the white canvas stretching the entirety of the wall beside the door. And in an instant, his eyes were on you. The red piercing the darkness more than the projector light did. You didn't hesitate or falter though as you walked right past him to the little bar that was behind the couch.

"What's got you all dressed down, kitten. Did you get too hot?" He said the concern clear in his voice but also, there was a roughness that he's been holding back for weeks present. You felt the sound make your head spin.

"Yeah, I got another hot flash." You said moving to grab a bottle of water that you knew you weren't going to drink, but you wanted to catch him off guard. "What are you watching?" You asked as you moved to stand behind the couch. You could nearly see the hair on the back of his head prickle at your presence. Before he could answer you leaned down, your lips pressing against his ear. Your voice low, your chest pressed against the edge of the couch, against his back as he felt your soft body against him making his breath hitch. "I don't think I seen this one before."

You felt his body tense against you, his hand on his drink tensed as your hand moved over his chest, feeling his muscles flex under his sweat shirt. He turned his head trying to look at you, but in turn, you took advantage, pushing your lips against his now exposed neck. What you didn't expect, was for him to moan.

"I thought you were still sick, sweetie." He said with an edge to his voice as he tried to not let his emotions get the better of him. But you both knew he was more sensitive than what he wanted you to believe. As he felt your teeth graze his neck, you moved back up to his ear, catching the lobe softly with your tongue.

"I was. And now I'm not." You said matter-of-factly, leaning more over the couch so he could feel your chest on the back of his neck. Sylus moved his hand, trying to touch you, any part of you before you moved away, circling the couch. You stood Infront of him, your body casting a shadow on the movie. His eyes raked down your body, his cheeks having a faint red glow. Slowly you walked over to him, your thighs trapping him against the couch. You sat back on him, watching his throat constrict slightly as his hand touched the soft curve on your side.

"You look very appetizing right now." He said with a groan, feeling your body in his hands, his cock twitching under your ass that was barely covered by your shorts. "Are you sure you're feeling better. If we start it will be hard for me to stop especially when you look like this." He said, his breath heavy as his hands moved to your love handles, the soft dough like area melting under his fingers as he started to sink his fingers more into you. His hands kneading your body as his cock twitched again. You pressed against him, your stomach and chest soft against his hard one, filling the space between your two bodies.

"Aw are you saying I'm cute? I could say the same about you." You teased as your own hands moved to the hem of his shirt. He helped you, taking his hands off you just long enough to let you pull it over his head and toss it to the side of the couch. His eyes narrowed at your comment but he smirked softly, enjoying the hunger in your eyes as you looked at his body. His muscles flexed, so defined, strong. And yours on top of him. Soft, more curves than he could hold in one hand and just as sexy as him. You complimented each other.

"Oh darling you're much more than cute" He purred, his hands on you again as he trailed down your curves to grasp the side of your thigh. His other hand moved to the top of your tank top, pulling it down more and more until it ripped. He watched as your chest was slowly revealed more as he stretched out the already thin shirt. The sight made his mouth water. You shivered, watching as your chest shook softly from the fabric ripping, the rest of your shirt falling off of your shoulders. You teased him, using your arms to press your tits together, shaking them slightly. You seen a spark flash in his eye before his head pressed into the cleavage.

His eyes looked up at you as you moaned, feeling his tongue lick at one nipple a your other nipple as being pinched and played with by his fingers. You ground your hips against him, moaning as you felt him bite your nipple as if giving a warning. That didn't stop you from doing it again though. And this time, he ground back. Slow, and steady. He pulled his mouth away from you, a long string of saliva attaching him to your nipple before it broke.

Your hands moved to his chest, the palms brushing over the skin as you ground again, his hands moving to your hips, holding you still. In seconds, you felt the couch against your back, one leg hanging off of the couch due to the width of your thighs, but it only made his job easier since you were practically on display for him.

His hands moved over your body, body caging you in as he left no inch left untouched and un-kissed. He started at your neck, peppering kisses as he licked down between your chest, his hands returning for a second before he continued lower. He kissed down your stomach, taking extra time for his hands to play with you some more. To feel your weight in his hands, how your body was so soft against his. His hands weren't shy about any rolls you had, or extra softness. If anything he took his time to appreciate every curve, his hands and fingers making your dizzy as he slowly reached the top of your shorts.

His hands slipped under the band of your shorts, pulling them down to find the lack of underwear. He chuckled, trailing kisses down your soft thighs, nipping the inside gently as he felt you twitch and shiver from his touch.

"No panties? What a naughty kitten." He purred as he licked the inside of your thigh again, his other hand pulling the one that was hanging off the couch to rest on his shoulder. Before you could answer, his face was between your thighs. He had the hunger of a man that hadn't eaten in weeks. And in a way, he hadn't. One hand moved to grope your stomach, fingers squeezing and kneading the softness you had as his tongue pushed inside you. He moaned, breath heavy as you clenched around his tongue, pulling your hips closer, forcing his tongue deeper.

"You taste sweeter than I remember. All of that orange juice might have had something to do with it." He growled, pulling back for a moment as you gasped for breath at the sudden stop. You looked at him, the sight of his face covered in your juices, how he licked his lips. His free hand moved between your thighs, gently pushing two fingers in at once. Your body arched, eyes rolling back as he moved his mouth back to meet his hand. His lips moving to suck and lick your clit until you were shaking and begging him to not stop. As you came on his fingers, he licked you clean, not wasting a single drop as he pulled away, purring softly. "Delicious." He said, his voice heavy with arousal.

As you caught your breath, he moved off of the couch, discarding his pants and boxers. You looked at him, moaning softly as you felt heat flood your body at the sight of his thick dripping cock. It had been 2 weeks since you took him, and a thrill went through your body as you wondered how he would feel after so long. A hand moved to his cock as he rubbed himself, walking to you. His eyes raking over your body. You moved one leg over the back of the couch as if to draw him in more, if that was even possible.

As he repositioned over you, he kissed you slowly. You moaned as you tasted yourself on him, kissing back. A hand moved to your cheek as his thumb trailed your jaw. After a moment he pulled back, his voice earnest and soft.

"It's been a while, so I'll start slow." He said as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your wetness, coating himself slightly. You gave a soft nod, your heart fluttering at his sincerity before he started to push in.

Your body went numb. Your cheeks flushed as your mouth opened. every nerve in your body contracted at the feeling. Pure pleasure and some pain as you felt your body stretch. He did move slow, but the moans he made, the grunts as you clenched around him, it made it hard for the both of you. You knew he was big, you've fucked more times than you could count. But in your abstinence, your body forgot.

"God, Sylus." You moaned, a hand curling in his hair, another clawing his arm. "You feel bigger than I remember." You gasped out, nails digging into him which made him rut slightly, pushing more into you as you cried out.

"Oh, sweetie. I'm almost offended. But I suppose it's more of a happy surprise." He said with a chuckle before he bottomed out. Your head was empty, the only thing that felt empty if you were honest. The only thought was him. How full he made you feel. How deep he was, how much he stretched you as you shook around him. No wonder you fucked him several times a day, his cock was like a drug. A drug made for you and you alone.

As he started to move his hands grabbed your love handles, fingers sinking into the flesh as he pulled you closer. Your body jiggled with each thrust, your chest bouncing, thighs wobbling, stomach shaking. Sylus growled softly, his eyes darkening at the sight as his thrusts got rougher as if to see how much he could make your body bounce from his cock.

Soon, you felt his hips start to stutter. One of his hands moved to between your thighs, thumb working the hard little nub that was begging to be touched. As he felt you clench around him, moaning and clawing his arm which was definitely going to leave a mark, he felt how close you were. Your moans getting louder, your cries getting higher pitched as your face grew more red, legs shaking around him.

"You look so good like this under me." He said, his voice heavy with need as he continued his movement. His comment pushed you over the edge, your body shaking with pleasure as your orgasm hit you like a wave. You gasped out his name, hand falling off of his arm. Seconds later he followed after you, groaning as he painted the inside of your walls with his thick cum. He continued to pump into you, slower as he released, riding it out. Your eyes rolled as you whimpered. Had he not came this whole time? There was so much. You shivered as you felt your body get aroused again, feeling how much he was filling you before finally pulling out, his cock still half half. He panted, leaning over you as he put one arm on the couch arm rest.

Kissing you slowly, he brought his other hand to your face, holding you firmly. There was heat behind the kiss. His body still burning with that need for you.

"I hope you're not tired." He said against your lips, his hands moving to rub the expanse of your thighs. "Because we have to make up for lost time."

[exhaslo]

Hello!!! I LOVE your writing!!! I was wondering, since all I have seen is people request Miguel oneshots, could you do a Grimmjow one? I saw some in your kinktober and fell in love!!!!

Maybe something where like good girl likes bad boy troupe at college and whatnot. Where Grimmjow wants to keep his relationship with you a secret but when he and the reader spend alone time in his dorm he has the reader screaming his name and everyone finds out?

If you do write this request, thank you!!!!

Haha, thank you! Miguel is still super popular and I am head over heels for that man, but here me out, fam. The next season of Bleach, our boy GRIMMJOW RETURNS!!!

Be sure to see a wave of smut and requests come in for that fine, insane man~

Also, so sorry this was late! I'm still trying to catch up to last month's requests!

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, p in v, dirty talk, rough sex, begging, cockwarming, overstimulation

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No one would believe that anyone from the famous Espada gang would settle down. Each one of them were horrible gang members and trouble makers throughout the campus; they only settled with one night stands or anyone from their gang.

Grimmjow seemed like one of them, but in fact, he was the exception. The Sexta Espada had a dark secret. Grimmjow had fallen in love with the sweetest and most angelic girl in school, you. You were his polar opposite, and Grimmjow loved tainting you.

The moment you both crossed paths, Grimmjow only sought you out as another one night stand. He used his usual antics to get close to you; flirting, pressuring, anything to get into your pants, but you proved otherwise.

You always saw the best in everyone, including Grimmjow. Your sweet personality ended up causing Grimmjow to question his decision. You easily fell in love with Grimmjow, but Grimmjow was feeling bad about fooling you.

Eventually, Grimmjow was swayed by you and wanted to know more about you. He wanted to keep this a secret, so he met with you privately. Grimmjow loved your presence. He loved how innocent you were and how delicious it would be to taint you.

"Grimmjow, I need to go to class, hehe." You giggled as his arms stayed around your waist.

"Just another minute. You can miss one class," He whispered, landing gentle kisses against your neck, "Let me show you a good time, (Y/N), it won't hurt." He hummed.

"But my grades-"

"Are higher than everyone else in this damn college. You could easily make it up," Grimmjow smirked as he nibbled against your ear, "We've been datin' for two months. Let me reward you for dealin' with me~" He said with a dark chuckle.

You huffed your cheeks out, glancing at his lustful eyes. You wouldn't lie if his swords didn't make you wet. You had been eager for this moment, wanting to have Grimmjow sweep you off your feet. You just felt like you were doing something wrong.

"A-Are you sure...we can?" You whispered, covering your face slightly.

Grimmjow's smirk widen as he pulled you closer, gripping your ass in response.

"My entire dorm is empty right now. I'll be quick so you won't miss your next class, or when the next person comes in." He said sweetly, knowing how easily you gave into him.

"Okay,"

Grimmjow felt like he won the lottery. Holding his precious, innocent girlfriend's hand, Grimmjow led you to his dorm. He wasn't lying when he said it was empty. Taking you to his room on the sixth floor, Grimmjow made sure to lock the door.

Grimmjow didn't even hesitate to have his hands roam your body. You whined softly as he lifted you on the bed, trembling from anticipation.

"Keep shaking like that and I'll make sure you don't go to your next fucking class," He said with a low rumbling groan.

You could only feel your cheeks grow hotter as Grimmjow started to kiss you roughly. His tongue forcing its way inside your mouth, battling your tongue for an easy dominance. You attempted to grip his ripped shirt, wanting to catch your breathe.

Grimmjow had always given you rough kisses, claiming that he enjoyed your blissed out expression, but this was something more. Panting heavily as Grimmjow broke the kiss, leaving a trail of saliva, you saw the hunger in his eyes.

"Fuck, I'm gonna make you feel so fuckin' good, babe," He said with another groan, already removing your shirt.

"T-Try to take it slow, please?" You begged softly. Grimmjow proceeded to kiss your neck as his hands grouped your breasts,

"If you keep beggin', I just might."

You shivered at his words, moving your neck to the side to give him more access. The anticipation was making your panties soaked. Gasping, you whimpered a soft moan as Grimmjow undid your bra and started to pinch against your nipples.

"Fuck, you even sound sexy,"

You were bitting your lip as Grimmjow started to suck and play with your breasts. You raised your hips slightly, wanting some friction. Grimmjow resisted a chuckle as he pressed his hips against yours, grinding against your clothes cunt in a deep and rough pace.

"G-Grimm~ G-Grimmjow!" You pleaded, moaning softly as you felt your core burn hotter.

"Fuck, babe. I gotta fuckin' prep you for my dick but you're makin' this difficult." Grimmjow hissed, spreading your legs wider as he rutted against you, "Do you want me to break ya?"

"M-Maybe?" You whimpered, undoing your belt for him.

Grimmjow was cussing mentally as he watched you take off your pants. Oh, how he was going to enjoy fucking the angel of the college. Everyone had wanted to get a taste of you and here he was, about to fuck the life out of his precious girlfriend.

"Fuck," Grimmjow cussed as he stared at your soaked panties, "Just for me." His smirk widen.

You felt embarrassed as Grimmjow started at your pussy. You glanced away, but gasped softly as he pulled you in for another kiss. This time, he was sweeter as he took off your underwear. You squirmed at the cold air, but it immediately faded as Grimmjow's hands started to rub your clit.

"Ah~ G-Grimmjow~" You cried out, feeling your core about to burst.

"Already? How fuckin' slutty," Grimmjow chuckled lowly as his fingers rubbed circles around your clit harsher, "Does my lil girlfriend wanna cum that bad? Haven't even gotten to the main course and yer about to cum already, so naughty."

Feeling your vision blur as you orgasm, you moaned his name loudly. His words had stirred something within you, making you burst and shake in pleasure.

"Now, now, what a bad girl. Imma hafta punish ya," Grimmjow chuckled darkly as he took his pants off.

You whimpered lowly as Grimmjow spread your legs wider. His fingers entered your hole, causing you to cry and moan. He had two fingers pump into your tight gummy walls, prepping you for the main course. You trembled as you felt your core burn up again as your pussy convulsed around his fingers.

"G-Grimm, r-right t-there-" You stuttered, moving your hips to his thrusting figners.

"Awe, gonna cum again? Well, not yet, baby." Grimmjow chuckled as he took his fingers out and licked them clean, "Fuck, you taste so fuckin' sweet."

"G-Grimmjow! P-Please~" You begged, moving your own hands to your clit. Grimmjow took you hands away and held them above your head,

"Tsk, tsk, I'm treatin' ya today. Now, be a good fuckin' girl and don't move." He said with a groan.

You arched your back in response as Grimmjow started to poke his tip against your folds. Your eyes widen as he slowly pushed in, stretching you out. You whined and whimpered, shaking from the uncomfortable feeling.

"Shh, just relax," Grimmjow cooed in your ear before kissing you sweetly.

Normally, he would have just quickly fucked all prior girls, but you were different. Grimmjow wanted to keep you forever. He truly loved you and was afraid that you would leave him one day because of his attitude and reputation.

Honestly, you deserved so much better than him. Which made this all the more fun for Grimmjow to have you as his.

"G-Grimm~" You moaned as his dick kissed your cervix.

Grimmjow glanced down at your blissed out expression, drinking in every minute of it. He kept your legs spread as he stayed pinned against your poor, aching pussy. It was difficult for him to stay still. You were sucking his dick so much, begging for movement.

"Yer makin' this hard, babe." Grimmjow hissed as he returned to your breasts.

It was cute how you tried to move, whining and begging for him. This was so deliciously out of character for you. Grimmjow had finally tainted you, making you his. Of course, he was going to enjoy every moment of you begging for his dick. The school's angel, crying out to be fucked by one of its devils.

Grimmjow made sure to make you wait, just as long as he did. After a few minutes, you were fucked out and nearly drooling for movement. Your pussy was burning as it kept sucking Grimmjow's dick and soaking the bedsheets under them.

"So fuckin' wet, babe. I think yer finally ready, are ya?"

"Yes! P-Please, Grimmjow!"

"Please what?"

"P-Please, fuck me." You cried, reaching out for him, "R-Ravish my pussy with your dick."

"Fuck, you're such a good fuckin' girl to me," Grimmjow hissed before kissing you again.

You gasped and moaned into the kiss as Grimmjow finally started to slap his hips against yours. The emptying feeling before he bottomed out, made you cum again instantly. Moans were escaping your moan louder and louder the more he shoved his cock inside you.

Honestly, you felt fucked out already and cock drunk. All you wanted was to keep feeling his dick pound against your sweet spot, filling you up with each thrust. You swore you could feel stars as you kept squeezing him for more.

"Yer not lettin' go of me, ha," Grimmjow chuckled as he gripped your waists tightly, "Want me to really taint this pretty pussy of yours?"

"Mhm~ Y-Yes~" You begged, your words started to slur.

"Look how fucked dumb you are already, screamin' my name out like a horny slut. Fuck," Grimmjow winced as he felt his high approaching, "Fuck, I fuckin' love ya, (Y/N). I just wanna stay like this forever, you in my embrace," He hissed lowly.

"Ah~ G-Grimmjow!" You moaned, reaching another orgasm. Your body was starting to shake from overstimulation.

"That's right. Yer mine." Grimmjow hissed as he coated your insides white, "Remember that."

Pulling out slowly so he could admire his work, Grimmjow chuckled as you shook from the cold. His cum dripping out of your drenched and abused pussy while it clenched for air. Stroking your cheek, Grimmjow pecked your lips before he carried you into his private bathroom,

"See, yer still good for yer next class.." He said with a chuckle. You wrapped your arms around his next, shyly glancing away,

"E-Enough...for another...r-round?" You whispered. Grimmjow just did a u-turn to his bed,

"What a naughty girl," He chuckled, rubbing your overstimulated clit, "Ya know that yer gonna be even more sensitive this time around right? Yer body will break."

"I-If it's you...I don't mind." You said, covering your face.

Grimmjow groaned as he pounced on you, making sure that you were really late for your next class. He fucked you so much that you ended up fainting, but boy, were your screams so delicious. Once he finally filled you, Grimmjow lazily cleaned you up and changed the bedsheets, letting you rest.

Deciding to get you some food for when you woke up, Grimmjow was frozen in place as he saw his whole floor and the rest of his gang outside his dorm. Quickly, he shut the door, wanting to hide you from them.

"Could you have made her scream any louder? What were you doing, torturing the poor girl?" Szayel grumbled lowly. Grimmjow rolled his eyes,

"Can't have a good fuck? Shit man, I'm starving, lemme go eat." He hissed, locking his dorm.

"Awe, we can't have a taste?" Nnoirta said with a dark chuckle. Grimmjow grabbed him by the collar,

"I'm claiming this one." He hissed.

Shoving Nnoirta to the ground, Grimmjow hurried to get you some food and muscle relaxers. He had to protect you from his gang. You were too innocent for them, hell, you were too innocent for Grimmjow. You just got fucked unconscious because of him.

Sighing softly as Grimmjow found a private spot, he couldn't help but smile. Finally, he found someone just for him.

Someone he truly loved.

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Woohoo, hope you liked it!!! Sorry that this was so late again!

But don't be afraid to request more Grimmjow or even any other characters!

[j0kers-light]

I am not sure if your requests are open but was wondering if you would do a smut one-shot where y/n and joker dress up like their getting married maybe it's y/ns weird fetish or jokers but it is one of thems idea that's up to you

[Most importantly hope you don't mind this but the joker isn't wearing any makeup in this]

Ps. Love his lighthouse love it

His Lighthouse: A White Future (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

A White Future - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A STORY UPDATE!

Hey hi @jokerslittlepage 🖤✨

Please excuse me for taking so long in writing this! This one was tricky to write I'm not gonna lie… I feel like Joker is a little OOC in it since I mostly head canon his against marriage but hey. I did what needed to be done. Please don’t hate me!! 🥹🥹 and at this point Joker rarely wears his clown makeup around Y/n so you’re all good beloved!

Enjoy as I post this in the dark at 1AM!

— Oh and this is definitely not possibly canon with His Lighthouse. You'll understand after reading lol 🤭

Also I'm kinda feeling this song playing in the background as Joker and Y/n dance on the balcony. Its soft and gentle enough yet angst for this ill fated couple 😘

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher

Wanna be included in the His Lighthouse journey? Join the taglist!

Joker blamed you for this.

You unlocked another one of his weird fetishes that he never would have known existed, all completely by accident.

You were cleaning out the closet in the guest bedroom and trying on things to see if they still fit. If it didn't, you were donating it.

Joker had returned from a late night meeting at the main hideout and was relaxing on the bed, still dressed in this three piece suit. This one was all black, giving off mafia vibes, especially since he proudly wore the gold chain you bought him around his neck.

Your initials were on a small charm hanging from it. It was a subtle way for Joker to acknowledge his girl; he never took it off.

Joker washed his clown makeup off in the bathroom and was content watching the strip tease and mini fashion show you were putting on. So far he kept his hands to himself.

No surprise Joker was a great judge with his killer fashion sense. He was honest about the things you tried on.

"It's a no for meee."

"Wait, Bunny! Keep that one. It makes your hips look... mmm. C'mere pretty thing.."

"I dunno.. bell bottoms are making a uhhh comeback. I like the color, doll."

"Don't even try that on. Toss it."

"Y/n, what possessed you to buy that?"

Rude comments and all, you were making progress with Joker's help! You had almost everything cleared out and ready to either return back into the closet or in bins for charity, that is, until you squealed and dug out a white garment bag.

"I forgot about this!" You laid the bag out on the nearby couch and unzipped it.

Joker lifted his head at the sound and watched you eagerly lift up a dress. From here it looked cream or was it white? He spoke up to ask. "What's that, bunny?"

He missed your megawatt smile. "One of my fans invited me to her all white wedding before you and I met. She asked me to be her bridesmaid and I totally forgot I kept the dress!"

You held it up to your body and faced the mirror. She was so happy you made it and they were such a beautiful couple. You were glad you made her day even more special by being there. You smiled while reminiscing fond memories.

You turned just enough for J to finally see that garment in its entirety and his brain swiftly short circuited.

"Put it on."

You turned towards Joker. "Huh?"

He had this hazy look in his eyes as he watched you stand before the mirror. The urge to see you in white struck him hard and fast. He didn't know why.

"I said.. Put. It. On."

You knew that tone very well and scrambled to do what Joker said before he lost patience.

You took off your bra and shimmied into the cool satin material. The panty line was too harsh in the white fabric so without thinking, you peeled off your panties and tossed them aside.

Joker swallowed audibly watching them go. He liked that pair very much. However they looked better on the floor.

"Can you zip and button me up?" You held the front of the dress up to your breasts and moved your hair back for him.

Joker took in a shaky breath. The dress wasn't even on properly and he was already having impure thoughts. The ivory color against your darker skin just made it pop even more. You tried on countless articles of clothing tonight but this was the icing on the cake. He stood up from the bed and walked over to you.

His green eyes met your e/c ones in the mirror before you looked away, hiding your flushed cheeks. For once he didn't comment on your skittish behavior.

He reached out and pulled the zipper up, letting his fingers brush against your skin like a feather.

The intimate gesture sent shivers down your spine.

Joker was so close you could feel his body heat on your exposed skin and his hands were like a branding iron buttoning the two pearls at your neck. When he was done, Joker rested his hands on your shoulder and spoke to your reflection.

"You ahhh need heels." He whispered on your neck.

You didn't understand where he was going with this. You weren't trying on full outfits, just the clothing itself.

Joker rolled his eyes when you didn't move and stalked over to your endless pile of heels for himself. He flung a few to the side and mumbled under his breath when he couldn't find the ones he was looking for.

"J what are you doing?" You walked over barefoot but jumped when J laughed after finding the perfect pair. He wordlessly pointed for you to sit down.

Thank goodness a chair was nearby. Joker meant business when he didn't speak. You flopped down in your sage accent chair and waited for the lion to stalk its prey.

You were speechless when Joker got down on his knees to put a pair of Tom Ford stilettos on your dainty feet. They were the same pair he gifted you recently. He swore he purchased them with real money.

Like you actually believed him.

Regardless if he obtained them legally or not, they made your skin tone pop even more and highlighted the stark white of the bridesmaid dress.

You wore clear heels to the wedding but Joker was in charge here. Only the best for his Light.

"There... perfect." He whispered more to himself than you. His green eyes snapped up to you. Joker's hands were rubbing your calves but they slowly creeped up under the gown to caress your thighs. "A vision in white."

From the halter neck to the draped bodice, you were a sight to behold. This gown, what it represented, was doing things to him. His Light bathed in white whereas he was swallowed in darkness.

Yin and yang. The two of you were polar opposites and he absolutely loved it.

"A-Alrighty.. um it still fits! So um... can I take this dress off now?" You asked with a shaky breath. Green eyes pinned you down further into the seat as Joker's lips inched closer and closer to yours.

"NoPe. It's our big day and you look... phenomenal. You look so heavenly.. n' all for me." Joker tucked a wayward curl of hair back behind your ear.

His words made your eyes widen. Big day? What was he going on about?

"J.. what're you..?"

"Stay right here, doll. Don't. Move." He ordered. He grinned at you before backing away and leaving the room altogether.

You blinked in shock but did as you were told.

Just what had gotten into Joker and where did he go? It was taking him longer than a minute to return.

You tapped your heels on the floor as you waited.

He came back with your fresh bouquet of flowers that you always kept on display in the foyer. This week it was a hodgepodge of wildflowers mixed in with chrysanthemums and snapdragons; the perfect wedding arrangement. You finally had an understanding of what was going on here.

"Did you know it's considered bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding?" You accepted the fresh flora and discreetly shook off the excess water from the stems before it soaked into your satin dress.

Joker just shrugged and helped you to your feet. He kissed your cheek and led you out of the bedroom. "Who needs luck when I have you?"

Now that was sweet.

You bowed your head and let Joker guide you out onto the balcony. He walked you out just like a newlywed couple to the reception.

The night was balmy and the distant lights from the Fashion District cast a neon glow on everything. Joker stepped away to turn on the patio's string of lights to soften things up a bit.

They came on and illuminated you in a warm intimate glow. You were missing a veil for this to truly be a dream come true. Joker would just have to go without. Your smile monopolized all of his attention anyways.

You shined brightly just like the lighthouse he named you after. You laughed when Joker bowed and offered you his hand, like a true gentleman.

You both knew he was anything but.

"May I have this uhh, dance?"

Joker's smile was genuine and without his signature makeup, he looked dazzling under the twinkling lights.

You could stare at J for hours. You didn't care about his scars. Yes, they made him into the fearsome man he was, but in your opinion, Joker was beyond stunning no matter how you looked at him.

How could you say no to such a handsome man?

With your bouquet in one hand– you gave Joker the other as he swept you up into a ballroom waltz right there on the balcony.

You heard gentle music playing from the speakers and knew this must've been what he ran off to prepare.

"But you don't plan things.." You mumbled under your breath.

Joker kissed your cheek to silence his laugh. You loved pointing out his affinity for structure and plans.

The two of you danced along to the soft music and stared into each other's eyes. Yours were more bashful whereas Joker did nothing to hide his desire. The grip he had on your hip clenched tighter when you bit your lip. It wasn't unusual for Joker to get handsy but your curiosity got the better of you at the origin of his passion.

"So... um you're not gonna tell me what brought this on?"

He scoffed as if you should've already known the answer. "Do I need an excuse to dance with my wife?" Joker dipped you suddenly.

You were sputtering and gaping like a fish. "W-Whahh? Wife?" He slowly straightened you back up.

"Do play along, Y/n." Joker said with an eye roll.

"Oh I'm sorry Joker! I didn't know we were roleplaying tonight. I was trying on clothes and you went all... thison me! How was I supposed to know you had a bridal fetish or whatever this is? I bet you wanna skip straight to the honeymoon anyways."

You looked away and missed Joker's licking his scars in agitation. You knew the exact buttons to press with him, it was infuriating.

The scene was set. Why couldn't you just play along?

Joker spun you again but this time he jerked you roughly so your back was against his chest. He kept you steady on your feet with his strong grip.

"I.... didn't know I had one until you found this... this... dress. White looks soo... ethereal on you my Light. So what if I wanna end our uhhh re-cep-tion early and consummate our bond. Hmm? Are ya gonna stop me? We both know that's what you wanT."

Joker leaned down to whisper in your ear. "You wanted me since the moment I came home."

That may be true, but he didn't have to call you out on it!

That matte black suit of his was equal parts sinful and alluring plus you really wanted that gold chain of his swinging in your face tonight.. An airy moan slipped out before you could stop it.

How did he know your body better than you?!

Joker ran his hand down the front of your dress and bunched the satin material up until your legs were bare to his touch. The humid air teased your bare sex, making you shiver.

"I bet you're thinking about it.. righT now, aren't ya? Let's see just how needy my wife is..." 

Without warning, Joker plunged his fingers into your wet pussy. You clutched onto his forearms and gasped at the intrusion.

"Told ya, princess.. you're sopping wet for me." He groaned at hearing your wet lips gush out as he thrusted them deeper inside. Your eyes fluttered half mast but flew back open in fear.

You looked left and right, hoping it was dark enough for your neighbors to not witness what was going on your balcony.

Just because you owned the penthouse didn't mean there weren't other buildings surrounding yours. Gotham City was notorious for peeping toms and noisy neighbors.

"J-J... my mmph!" Your complaint fizzled away when Joker's thumb rubbed at your clit. Why did you take your panties off around this man?

J loves when you wear dresses and skirts for 'easy access' and for good reason.

The man was a sorcerer with his fingers and you loved when he worked his magic. He curled them just so and had you hurling straight to the cusp of pleasure in record time.

You were wet the moment he walked in the bedroom but he didn't need to know that. Joker knew his tailored suits turned you on.

Finally getting some much needed stimulation was sending you over the edge. You clawed at J's arms as the heat threatened to consume you entirely.

A flick of his thumb against your bundle of nerves and you were moaning out in ecstasy.

You made a mess of his fingers right there for anyone to see if they looked out their window. The thrill of being seen had you squirming in J's arms. You swatted at his hand with your flowers when he tried to prolong your orgasm.

He easily overpowered you and laughed at your sensitive walls clenching down on his fingers. Joker clicked his tongue when you tried bucking away from him.

"Tsk. Always running away." He sighed.

You squeaked when he picked you up, bridal style, and carried you back inside.

Usually Joker would toss you down on any nearby surface and watch your body bounce helplessly before he dragged you back towards him, but today was different.

Today, Joker stopped into your enclosed sunroom and set you down gently on the couch. He hit the light switch and instantly the balcony lights went out and plunged the both of you into darkness.

Now only the moonlight shining in from the glass roof guided his lips to yours.

You dropped your flowers to cradle the back of Joker's head and deepened the kiss. He let you have control for as long as it took him to discard his suit jacket and rip off his tie. He was working on the buttons on his shirt when you pulled away.

"Ngh, no let me... l-let your wife do it." You moaned out.

Your hands were shaking as you undid the buttons. You were too nervous to look up at the panting dragon before you.

Joker let you push his shirt off his shoulders but he tilted your chin up when you failed to look up.

You acknowledged your role and needed to be rewarded.

He whispered your name amongst the lush plants and flora in your sunroom. The air in here was stuffy since he left the balcony's sliding door open. You were already collecting sweat on your brow and good thing Joker took off his makeup earlier or it would be melting off of him.

He still licked at lips in that nervous habit of his.

"Do you want this? Tell me to uhh stop if ya don't." Joker slowly pushed your dress up to bunch up around your stomach. He had no plans of taking it off. If he did, he'd risk tearing it to shreds and that wouldn't do.

If he had it his way, you would wear white everyday, you looked so beautiful in it. But back to the matter at hand.

You nodded in the dark and wrapped an arm around Joker's shoulder. His gold chain was still cool to the touch and you ran your fingers over it fondly.

"I want this. I-I want you. Please, J."

He left a kiss to your forehead and groaned. "You already have me, Y/n."

Joker moved to remove his pants after earning your consent. The sound of his belt buckle in the dark sent a rush of adrenaline to your core. You were excited and the fact you could hardly see made this encounter even more hot.

Your heart was beating out of your chest when you felt Joker's hands slide up your heel clad legs and yank you closer to him. Your back hit the couch cushions and you scrambled for something to hold onto in the dark.

Joker must've seen you flailing around since he guided your hands back onto his shoulders.

No fair how he could see perfectly in the dark whereas you were blind as a hehe... bat. 

"Hey.. I wanna see yo— ah!"

Joker slapped his cock on your pussy as if he heard your joke. You jumped at each impact of his hard on hitting your clit and clawed at his upper back in delight.

He seemed to enjoy the sting and tipped his head back in a groan.

Then a pair of neon green eyes stole your attention. It was unnatural the way they reflected off the lack of light, almost feline at times. Joker's night vision was legendary and it was all focused on you.

Your beautiful body sprawled out on the couch. Your curls framing your face like a halo and Joker swore the white of your gown made your melanin skin glow.

How did he get so lucky? He must be dreaming. If it were a dream, he would enjoy it while it lasted.

Joker slid his dick into you, slacked jaw and eyes filled with longing. Your eyes rolled back feeling him stretch you open and come to a rest inside. Joker panted above you and braced his weight on his hands near your head.

You were now caged in with nowhere to go.

"Yeah? This what you– mmhm d__n, is this what you needed, my Light? If ya want me, then take it. Take. All. Of. Meee." Joker grunted and set a rhythm; steady deep thrusts that jolted your entire body and stole your breath.

You buried your hands into his hair and tugged, knowing J loved that. He moved with the motion and laughed to himself.

"F__k, relax Princess and work with me." He pulled his hips back so he could slam into your pussy deeper.

You cried out and wrapped your legs around his waist. He felt the straps of your heels press into his back.

Note to self, clothed sex was hot.

"See? There ya go.. now I can beat it up just the way ya like it. Ohhhh, I got the best wife. Tight cunt, killer body... sexy moans– louder doll. I wanna hear just how good I'm making ya feel."

You bared your neck as he picked up the pace and plowed into your womb. Each rock of his hips hit your g spot and made you dizzy.

You looked up and watched the clouds distort the image of the moon through the roof. Such a beautiful night spent with the one you love.

Joker noticed your distracted gaze and brought your focus back on him by pressing down on your lower belly. You keened loudly in his ear.

"Haha. Eyes on me, Princess. I know, I know. You can cum if it feels that go~od."

You nodded, gasped sweetly, and then came on Joker's cock. And he didn't stop his powerful thrusts either. He plowed right through your orgasm with no regard for your hypersensitivity.

You couldn't escape his passion and took out your agony on his back. Joker hissed when your nails initially dug into his skin but laughed it off.

"Argh, those d__n nails of yours are sharp! Is it really that good, darling? Too much cock making you go crazy stupid already? You want me to stop? Huh? Too bad, cuz I'm noT done yet." He groaned when your walls clamped down tighter on this dick but he recovered quickly to resume his brutal thrusts.

He picked you up by your waist and positioned you to straddle him properly on the couch.

You cried out when you sank further down on Joker's cock due to the angle.

Now he could see you properly as a beam of moonlight shined down from the roof to a spotlight on you bathed in white.

Your hair was in complete disarray and your lips red from biting them in pleasure but in Joker's eyes, you were absolutely stunning.

You locked eyes with Joker and braced your hands on his shoulders. His fair skin was flushed red from exertion but he still looked every bit of Gotham's City most wanted criminal.

The dark gleam in his eyes was a warning in itself.

Your gaze latched onto the gold chain hanging around his neck, and most importantly, the tiny charm with your initial bouncing with each thrust Joker made up into your pussy.

It was hypnotizing and you couldn't help but lean forward to kiss Joker.

He didn't mind and slowed things down so you could feel each vein sliding against your gummy walls. The wet slap of skin and heavy pants was the only sound in the sunroom. You wouldn't be surprised if the glass behind Joker was fogged up by your lovemaking. It was still too dark to tell for sure.

You were the focal point here so you leaned back and put in some work to get Joker off.

You rolled your hips in figure eights that he loved so much and was quickly rewarded.

Joker placed his hands onto your hips and used them like handlebars.

"D__n Y/n. F__k meeeeee." He leaned back on the couch and watched you ride his dick, chasing another orgasm.

You didn't care that you were getting your dress dirty or that your feet were killing you in your stilettos.

Joker took one look at you dressed in white and gold and smacked your behind. You whimpered softly. The sting spurred you to go faster and you began chanting Joker's name like a prayer.

"Nuh uh bunny. You know what ta call me." J whined when you clenched tighter around him.

You bit your lip, looking away.

He could call you wife all night long but it was something different about returning the favor. You knew Joker needed this to get off but it meant more to you.

"Say it Y/n.. p-plea— nghh just once. That's all I, ahhh, that's all I neeeed, darling. I want you to have it, but I need.."

Oh. Joker begging meant he was serious. His eyes were squeezed shut as he neared his own release but you could tell something was holding him back.

You could feel it with how handsy and needy he became. Anything could spill from Joker's lips as he reached his summit. He needed whatever this fetish was.

You drew in limited air and blew it out in a shaky moan.

Just the sight of Joker, usually so composed and calculated, losing all self control– because of you, was empowering. At this rate you were gonna cum again.

You wanted Joker to cum with you; it felt right with the emotions floating in the air tonight.

You choked back a moan, "I want it! I want my husband to c-cum. I need you, J! Please fill me up!"

His reaction was instant.

"Yeah? Ya want it? My beautiful wife wants my cum? Anything you want, it's yours, Y/n. Ask of me anything. I will defy my own will to grant your desires!! Y-You can have it all just.. stay with me. F-Foreever. Never.. s__t, so tight! Never leave me Bunny." 

You recognized your own book quote mixed in with Joker's pleas and moans. If possible, you fell even deeper in love. You wouldn't stop for anything after hearing that.

You felt the moment Joker came undone.

He squeezed you close as his hips bucked up into yours uncontrollably. He didn't care about moaning obscenely in your ear because he babbled his deepest darkest fears to you in between struggling to breathe.

"Stay with me, Y/n.. I need.. I need you please— you complete me. You own me. Don't go.. my beautiful wife. M-My Light. All mine.."

It was the most vulnerable you ever heard Joker speak. He was open about his future with you.

You were uncertain about his plans after he healed up and left, but tonight you got a glimpse of the future. He wasn't going anywhere and neither were you and you never felt more closer to him than in that moment.

You bared down and let a silent scream paint your features as your own climax was ripped from out under you.

The fact you came with Joker made the release ten times more intense and hearing him confess in your ear was like an atomic bomb.

Joker fell back and took you with him as the afterglow hit you both. Shivers and gasps were exchanged in the muggy room.

Your dress was sticking to your sweaty skin and you felt absolutely euphoric wrapped up in the arms of your lover. Joker wasn't in any better shape. The satin fabric of your dress was brushing up against his sensitive skin with every rise and fall of your breathing but he couldn't move.

He was slowly softening inside of you and cum was oozing from your pussy and pooling down to your inner thighs.

It was filthy but neither of you could bear to move. You were right where you needed to be. In his arms.

If Joker had a shred of morals he would carry you to the bath and help wash you up but first he had to address what he said during the heat of the moment.

Joker rubbed his scarred lips along your collarbone and subtly cleared his throat.

"I.. meanT it, Y/n." You turned your head and rested it under Joker's chin. "I dunno what started all of this but I uhh.. I'd like that. Us. You know... together.. Not right now! But ahh uhh.. it's on the table for the future... if ya want."

You tensed up in his arms and he thought the worst.

What if you disagreed and thought he was insane? What if you wanted nothing more to do with him? Was this the end of this phenomenal relationship all because he considered marriage?

Joker sounded so cute, all bashful and unsure of himself and you loved watching his eyes dart around in a panic. You put his worries at ease by leaning up and kissing him soundly.

"I meant what I said too silly. I-I need you too but only if you'll have me." You looped your hands with Joker's much larger ones.

He stared at the clash of skin tones and sighed. He was worrying over nothing.

"Forever then, yeah?" He kissed your palm before looking down at you. That breathtaking smile of yours was highlighted by the moonlight.

Since J quoted The Greeks Among Us, you decided to do the same.

"Until the last star fades in the night sky, I'm yours forever and ever, ο εραστής μου."

He rolled his eyes at your direct quote but attacked you with kisses anyway. His sweet little nerd. However the phrase summarized your love perfectly, all for a man who didn't deserve a single ounce of it.

Joker would spend the rest of his days proving his love for you. He could start by giving you that ring he bought.

[mikomikono]

hi miko! im here with a fic writing question… i was thinking about how to make smut good bc recently i feel like whenever i get to the smut part of the fic im writing i get super bored, like im just rehashing whatever ive been writing in every smut scene ive done for years. you and endles came to mind bc i always find your guys nsfw scenes really compelling, and great, and unique. while also being hot and fun (very important w smut!!) so i wanted to ask if you had any tips for keeping things exciting or fresh when you are tackling those scenes! especially because you guys have experience writing the same characters many times over and manage to be so creative and distinct with every scene ive read from you. so, i guess, penny for your thoughts, if you feel like it! (sorry for sending this only to you and asking for both your opinions, it was the simplest 😭. if u want to answer yourself only thats fine haha)

❤️

Heyyyy oh my god I never expected to become someone ppl would come to for writing advice, what an honour 💖 also, I hope you don't mind me answering publicly, bc I feel like this is something a lit of writers struggle with! I will put it under a cut tho, bc I ended up writing quite a bit oops

So. Smut. It's kinda funny you should ask me about that, bc the first proper sex scene I ever wrote was last year for Steamship Sexcapades (bc I am not counting that one feeble attempt at 19 that was so cringe that I hid it away and didn't even think about trying again for like 8 yrs) but I suppose after writing *checks The Canon word count* a lot since then means something :DD

Here's the thing: I also feel like I'm rehashing things. Constantly. There's only so many ways you can say "cock in hole ➡️ thrust" before you're gonna have to repeat some phrases. And honestly, I feel like I repeat phrases remarkably often! But in a way that's all writing! (or that's how I stop myself from getting too depressed about it lol) The readers don't notice! Usually. And as long as you don't use the exact same wording every single time.

Ok, so here's a few tips on what I, personally, think you need to make a good sex scene:

Don't be afraid of the words. Y'know, the first time I wrote "half-hard cock" I (allegedly) had to take a 10min break and texted a friend that I was not going to be able to do this. But after a while you sort of get used to it and the words that seemed embarrassing stop being that, and become just... Words. And you also shouldn't shy away from more "cringe" words! Sometimes its fun to be a little cringe!

Related, you should try to love the words. But that's just good general writing advice, I feel.

Describe the emotions. Most people feel... something towards those they are intimate with, and that should be true in erotica too. It should be especially true in erotica, I think! Even if it's a one night stand, strangers who met in the club 5mins ago, whatever... You want the characters to feel.

Don't forget the physical. This is a thing that might seem a bit... weird. Like, you're writing sex, how could it not be physical? But what I mean is that you shouldn't forget to describe how it feels to the people involved, most notably your POV character. It's very easy to get lost in describing what they're doing and completely forget to get into the actual feeling. You're not writing a sex manual! And I have read fics where half way through I realise that's what it sounds like.

It's never just about the sex. Even if you think it is, it's not. It's about the connection, the narrative, the characterisation... It's about showing something that you can only show through the kind of vulnerable intimacy that sex scenes provide. Even if it's a oneshot pwp, it still has something to say. Maybe that something is wanting to get your rocks off, but also we're talking about fanfiction... We don't read and write that just to get off. It's always about the characters.

Rehashing is fine, actually. As I said, there's only so many ways to describe certain things, and so many ways you can have sex. Except that's not really true, because the secret to keeping it fresh is mixing it up! You can change positions, you can change who's the top/bottom, you can add foreplay (you should) and then change what kind of foreplay you wanna have! You can look into kinks! You can change locations! (I know we've done that a lot) You can add or remove any number of things to make each individual encounter different! And that's the key: repetition is fine, so long as you don't use the exact same everything every time. Case in point, there is a tumblr post which I would link except I'm on mobile, that is titled sth like "list of vocal sounds for smut", which has a list of, well, sounds/verbs (moan, groan, hiss, whimper, whisper etc) and adjectives that could be paired with them (hoarse, needy, quiet, throaty, desperate, wanton etc). The point is, that the best way to keep from sounding repetitive is to mix and match the words so that even if you say "groan" five times in 5k words, it's a different kind of groan every time. The same applies to sex acts! Do you have any idea how much cock Ryunosuke has sucked during The Canon? A lot. But it doesn't feel repetitive (hopefully) because everything else around it is switched up.

And perhaps most importantly: you gotta be at least a little horny for it yourself. I get it, man, writing smut is weird. You sit in front of your computer, staring at the monitor like "hmm is it better to use the word cock or dick or member?" And like... That's not very sexy. But! But!!! At the end of the day you gotta write something that makes you excited! Otherwise what's the point? Why are you writing if it doesn't fulfill you on some level??

Anyway, that's just my thoughts on the matter. If you want more specific help with writing, you can always DM me, I don't mind~

Also, endles says she is too mentally exhausted to properly answer, but she seconds everything I said, especially the point about loving the words. Actually she really wants to say sth about that, so I'm paraphrasing her for the rest of this:

You, as a writer, should love language. You should love the neat little things that language can do and seek out new things to try every time. It's a journey of discovery! Just like sex is always a new journey, even if it's the same characters and the same sex acts, every individual time is a chance to find something new. Let yourself have fun! Write something really stupid and work from that. The way I create scenes by writing jokes, even for serious scenes, because sex at the core is kinda funny. You're standing naked (at least partially) in front of this other naked person and it makes you feel a bit funny.

Also concrete advice: pick a list of 5-10 words you want to use. They can be anything, verbs, nouns, adjectives, as long as you really, really vibe with them, because they make you happy, as long as they're not words you already use a lot. They can also all relate to the same theme if you want! And then find a way to put all those words in.

[transformer-imagines]

Happy Together

No one asked for this, but I’m the one in control of the aux cord on this blog and I wanna indulge myself with some cute Dinobot shenanigans

Sludge (G1) x Bot!Reader (sfw)

2672 Words

Everyone and their creator knew that the Ark’s med bay was understaffed. Ratchet was the only one qualified enough to consider a doctor, so mechs tried to help out however they could. Being in the war for the better part of your life, you had picked up what medical knowledge you could in order to aid your comrades; you couldn’t offer much, but you tried to help Ratchet as much as you could. Normally this translated into running errands, taking basic vitals, or doing some patch work.

It was all hands on deck in the med bay today. A particularly nasty skirmish sent so many bots your way that anyone in non-critical condition was asked to sit on the floor. You were scurrying about between them, jotting down names and conditions on your datapad. Even the thick platted Dinobots hadn’t come out of the fight clean. The aspiring team medic, Swoop, was one of the few permitted a seat on an exam table, Wheeljack working to reattach his wing. He was the only Dinobot that you had ever really spoken to, being in and around the med bay so often. He was an excitable and enthusiastic young bot, not something anyone would be able to tell with the way his vocalizer was whining static.

His brothers had tried valiantly to remain with him in the med bay but were shooed out by Wheeljack; there were just too many injured bots for them to be taking up all that space. Only Sludge was allowed to stay, waiting to get patched up with the other mechs on the floor. You were saving him for last, not overly eager to face him; his intimidating size dwarfed most bots and the Dinobots weren’t well known for their friendly dispositions.

Eventually, you could put it off no longer. You tried your best to exude confidence and professionalism in your EM field as you approached. Sludge took notice, straightening up from tracing absentminded patterns on the floor panels to send a curious look your way. Oh Primus, he was sitting down and you barely even reached the top of his chassis.

“So, uh, you’re name’s Sludge, right? I’m Y/N.” He gave a hum in response, nodding his head in agreement that yes, his name was in fact Sludge. “Can you show me where you’re hurt?” He nodded again, moving his right pede out for you to inspect. What you could make out as his alt dino casing was shredded, jagged metal torn and fraying out from the wound.

“Right next to big explosion. Took out him Swoop. Lots of shrapnel, tore off wing and hit me in side.” He turned slightly and gestured to the kibble on his back. “More here.” You gestured for him to turn fully so you could inspect the damage as you jotted down his abridged account on your datapad. He was lucky his plating was so thick, as the force of the explosion probably would’ve hit major energon lines in any other bot. Most of his damage was superficial, deep as it was, though the shrapnel had managed to nick a few minor energon lines.

“There wouldn’t have been an explosion in the first place if it wasn’t for you ditzy dinos!” You finished jotting down the damage before looking sharply in the direction of the whiny outburst. Of course it was Huffer. “If you hadn’t given us away, none of us would be in here!”

“We’re all on the same team, Huffer,” you said with a wave of your servo. “So stop harassing patients or I’ll turn off your vocalizer.” A resounding laugh sounded from behind you.

“You must have a glitch in your memory core, Huffer,” said Hound. “The Dinobots gave us away by saving your tailpipe!”

“I could’ve taken care of it!”

You left the two to their bickering, patting your patient on his knee plating to get his attention. “You’re not too badly damaged. Since I got to you last for diagnostic, I’m gonna go ahead a patch you up first, okay?” You offered Sludge a kind smile, trying to provide better bedside manner than Huffer. He took it, returning your smile with one of his own and moving to expose the damage on his leg more as you fished around subspace for your welder and some titanium patches.

It certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Sludge. He had a knack for denting his plating, either over the course of sparing with his brothers or while out in the field. You would’ve thought that he’d just get Swoop to take care of it, but more and more frequently he would be stopping by the med bay; he said he liked how much quieter it was there than in the retrofitted cave the Dinobots had claimed as their own.

It was almost laughable how intimidating you found Sludge when you first met. He had a gentle spark, reserved and well-intentioned. Sure he didn’t have the fastest processor, but you couldn’t keep up with Perceptor either; and what was a smart mech worth if they weren’t also kind? You’d much rather spend time with Sludge than Shockwave. It didn’t hurt that he was a good listener, too. Despite what other Autobots might suggest, he had a good memory, asking for updates on personal projects that you had mentioned offhandedly the last time you saw him. And he had a creative mind! Swoop had been talking to you about how Sludge had recently taken up two-dimensional etching and drawing. And he had a handsome face, delicate touch when getting your attention, and –

Wait what? Hold on, were you…did you have a crush on Sludge? Oh Primus, this was just what you needed in the middle of a war. Still, you could do worse. And the spark wants what the spark wants… So what, maybe you did have a crush on him. You might as well try and see where it goes; in this war you had to make what joys you could.

“Is it just me or does Y/N look like they’re trying to court somebot?”

It was gossip time in the empty corridor, two mechs making good use of the late hour and lack of nearby audio receptors to concern themselves with the lives of others.

“You just noticed? Yea, I caught em in the wash polishing like it was going out of style,” Cliffjumper gave a short laugh at the memory. “You’da thunk I’d caught em sneaking extra rations with the way they bolted outta there.”

“Any ideas who the lucky mech is?” Powerglide didn’t give the minibot a moment to answer before continuing. “I overheard from Doc Ratch one of the Dinobots has got a lil crush; maybe we’ve got some love-birds on base?”

“Primus, I hope not. No one deserves to have a dumb dino on their tail; they’re so stupid and clumsy, they’d wind up melting the poor bot down! Honestly, I think Y/N deserves better than getting slagged by Slag.”

“You’re just jealous you aren’t getting any,” the plane sniped.

“Powerglide, I’m just a realist. I can’t help that your processor is full of that romantic scrap.”

“Cliffjumper, I can’t help that you have an incurably abrasive personality.” Powerglide gave the Porsche a hearty pat as he began walking further down the hall. “Come on, maybe we can get Ratch to fix that personality component of yours! Or at least we can sit down; my struts are killing me!”

“I do not have an abrasive personality, you silicon sanded showboat!”

Neither took notice of the saddened giant on the other side of the corridor, watching the retreating mechs from around the corner.

Sitting in one of the metal booths stuck to the far wall of the Rec Room, you found yourself thinking it all through. Lost in the swirling liquid of your energon cube, you wondered if you had been reading the situation wrong. You thought that Sludge had reciprocated your feelings, but he hadn’t really responded to your efforts. He never mimicked your attempts at posing or polishing. Maybe he was just unaware of Cybertronian flirting? It would make sense, as he was made on Earth, but even then you would’ve thought someone would take pity on him and explain your efforts. It wasn’t like you were being subtle, even in non-Cybertronian terms. You even got advice from Carly, trying to figure out how she’d won over someone as oblivious as Spike. You tried to be as obvious as possible, complimenting his skills and appearance and inviting him to recreational activities. But even then, he would look flustered and come up with some reason to turn you down. Maybe he was just trying to let you down on amicable terms, ignore your advances but maintain your acquaintanceship. Maybe he-

“Hi! Room here to sit?”

The scratchy voice startled you out of your reprieve; you must’ve really been in your own processor not to notice the dinobot flyer approaching.

“Oh, Swoop! Yeah, of course, take a seat,” you gestured across the table. It was almost humorous watching him try to squeeze himself into the clearly too small booth; being the smallest dinobot still made him one of the biggest Autobots. Finally situating himself, he flashed you a mischievous smirk and his optics flashed in mirth. “How’s it going?”

“Good! Had to get out of Dino Den, though; too loud for reading when Grimlock and Slag fighting.” He emphasized his point by producing an anatomical datapad and setting it on the table.

“Well that’s too bad,” you said. “How’s everyone else doing?”

“Him Snarl hog TV all day, watching Nurse Whitney.” His tone held a slight annoyance at the distraction it must’ve posed to his own studying; you knew he was quite fond of the show, and probably found it near impossible not to be watching it. His optics lit up in sudden remembrance, a squawk making its way past his vocalizer as he straightened his posture. “Sludge work on project! Big art project!”

“Oh?”

“Yes! It pretty, very pretty! Him Sludge good at art. Best Dinobot, maybe even best Autobot! And good at other things too!” Swoop emphasized his point by holding aloft a digit, helm held high with a self-assured expression. “Him strong, very strong! Last fight, him take out twenty, no, thirty Decepticons! Him good at keeping others safe, protecting. Oh, and him best fisher of Dinobots! Good provider! Patient and quiet and-”

“Wait, what’s fishing?”

“Fish earth animals, live in water. Humans and Dinobots like catching fish, very fun and -”

It was hard not to notice the lumbering form of Sludge entering the Rec behind the chatty Pteranodon. His sweeping optics seemed to stop in the direction of your booth (though you suppose it would be hard not to notice Swoop, what with his crest and loud voice), his optics seeming to blink out for a second. Swoop continued on, oblivious to his brother’s presence.

That is until Sludge began stomping his way over. You quickly grabbed onto the table, thankful that it was bolted into the wall as the ground shook under his weight. It wasn’t often you were reminded of his tremorous step, but it seemed that whatever had gotten under his plating was enough for him to have forgotten the virtue of gentle pedes. You didn’t expect to see his normally soft features so soured, mouth drawn into a tight line and optics darkened into a furrowed glare. With his massive stride, it didn’t take long before Sludge reached you. His servo came to rest behind Swoop, the back of the booth’s bench groaning under his weight as he leaned down, optic to optic with his brother.

“What you Swoop think you do?” His voice seemed edged with a nervous worry.

“Me just talking to Y/N,” Swoop answered, flashing the Brontosaurus the same mischievous smile he had given you earlier. “You know they want go fishing? Me say you should take them!”

“Yeah,” you interjected, ignoring the fact that you had never discussed joining the Dinobots on their fishing exploits. “I think it sounds like fun!” You couldn’t help the eagerness that steeped into your EM field, hopeful that you might finally get an opportunity to spend some true quality time with him outside of the occasional med bay visit.

Sludge seemed to soften a bit at your reply, gifting you with a gentle smile before his brow furrowed. His smile turned to a slight pout as his gaze drifted down, seeming to be a bit lost in thought. He exvented sharply, lugging Swoop out of his seat and maneuvering the now indignant mech around to carry him under one arm. Ignoring his squirming brother, he turned to you with a sad smile that he tried to mask with a projected air of confidence in his EM.

“Me Sludge think on it. Would be fun. Uh, him Ratchet ask to talk to him Swoop, so we see you Y/N later.” With the lame excuse, he turned to leave the Rec. With a loud squawk, Swoop made his opinion on the matter known.

“No! Him Sludge like Y/N! Like whole bunch!” That seemed to stop the brontosaurus dead in his tracks, grip loosened enough in shock that the loud flyer was able to transform out of his grasp. He seemed stuck in place as his processor caught up with the situation. In contrast, you and Swoop seemed to be a flurry of movement, standing up from your seat in the booth as the Pteranodon perched himself on the back of the bench.

“Really?” Your response, lackluster as it might’ve been, was all you could dumbly muster up at the revelation.

“Yes, him won’t shut up about it! ‘Oh, them Y/N so nice, very sweet. Pretty face, pretty smile. Feel like me Sludge melt when they look at me. So smart, so kind.’” Swoop’s impression left quite a bit to be desired, but that was the last thing on your mind, your gaze drifting to the gentle giant in question as you took in his words. Sludge had sheepishly turned halfway towards you, optics firmly locked to the ground and servos fiddling together nervously. “Us Dinobots try talk to him about anything, him always distracted or drawing you.” That seemed to catch Sludge’s full attention. “Him have big project now, draw y-” A large servo suddenly came to rest on the Pteranodon’s beak, clamping it shut before anything too embarrassing could be shared. You craned your helm up to look at Sludge, his cheek plating positively painted with the glow of his optics and lips drawn into a pout.

“Sludge, is that true? Do you really like me?” His optics bashfully locked on the ground again, answering you with a soft nod. He dared a glance at your face before averting his gaze again. “You know, I like you a lot too.” That seemed to win his attention, finally maintaining some real eye contact. He nodded again with a hum and you frowned. “You knew? Why didn’t you say anything?” That stung, knowing that he was aware of your advances all along and hadn’t done anything. Especially when he apparently liked you too.

He opened his mouth before closing it, brow furrowing. You gave him a moment to formulate his thoughts.

“You Y/N deserve better than Sludge.” He spoke slowly, thinking hard on his words. “Deserve someone smart and not clumsy or stumbly. Deserve someone not hurt you.” You frowned at that.

“Sludge, you are one of the gentlest mech’s I know. You haven’t hurt me yet and I don’t think you will,” you said, stepping closer to him. “And in any case, I think I would know better than anyone else what I deserve. I think I deserve to be happy and getting to spend time with you makes me happy. You make me happy. Do I make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s be happy together.”

 BONUS:

“SQUAWK! Let Swoop go! No want to see smooches!”

[nekovmancer]

(Not so) Lonely Nights

Summary: Otto is a man who's passionate about his work, and as his partner you’d often see yourself lonely late at night while the doctor busied himself in his lab, leaving you alone with your thoughts… which are quick to get naughty.

Pairing: Otto Octavius x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, masturbation, dom!Otto, oral sex (receiving), a bit of daddy kink I guess…? poor writing forgive me in advance for typos and silly mistakes oof-

Requested by the lovely @taytay0403 ♡ featuring prompts 9 and 11, respectively “Should I help you with that?” and “No need to be quiet."

A/N: This is my very first smut oneshot. 👉👈 I really hope you enjoy it. You can also read on AO3.

gif source: here

As it seemed, geniuses like Otto Octavius himself didn’t need any rest.

The clock on your nightstand showed it was half past midnight, and apparently the doctor was far from leaving his lab and coming home, since he couldn’t even pay attention to the dozens of text messages you had sent him in the past hour, worrying yourself over his well being. And Otto wasn’t one to ignore you on purpose. He’d only completely avert his attention from you when he was too absorbed with his work, which occurred frequently. Too much for your liking, if you’re being asked.

You sighed, hugging your pillow between your legs as you kept your eyes on your phone’s screen, waiting for a miracle. When there’s none, you send Otto another message, “It’s lonely here without you. The bed feels cold…” and you add a sad face emoticon to the end, just to emphasize how heartbreaking it is to be apart from your boyfriend on a Saturday night.

As Otto busied himself with the project of his life, you’d stand unceasingly by his side as a genuine supporter and admirer of him and his work, even before you’ve started your relationship. You’d cheer Otto when he was feeling down, remind him to eat properly and bring him food day by day just to be sure he wasn’t skipping any meals, or hug him close whenever he had trouble sleeping due his insecurities, or the overwhelming anxiety that came with the responsibility weighing on his shoulders… the power of the sun in the palm of your hand wasn’t exactly an easy accomplishment to do despite how much he was sure of his work, and the facilities which came from Oscorp's financial support was a blessing and a curse.

That’s why he'd always come home late.Otto couldn’t fail, not when he was really dedicating his life to his work to make the best from the intelligence he was gifted with. You did find all his devotion on making something for the good of mankind noble, and kinda sweet, but you surely weren't fond of the nights alone, dozing off as you waited for Otto to arrive late at night… you missed his hugs, the best hugs in the whole universe, the sound of his laughter echoing through the walls, and oh… his fingertips tracing your lips gently before he kissed you, and then… you swallowed. Hard.

It was cold indeed without Otto. His demanding lips devouring the remains of your composure as he made you plead like a good girl, with the sweetest of the moans, for the touch of his calloused hands. How long has it been since the last time he had cornered you, leaving you mewling hopelessly at the skilled touch of his hand?

There’s also those times when he’d came home so frustrated from work, blown pupils obscuring his once gentle eyes, and all that grievance would came undone as you’d kneel before him, plump parted lips brushing on the tip of his throbbing length… the taste of his skin was wandering over your tongue now, brought up by all those languid memories. Gosh, how you wish he’d walk through the door right now, ready to get some relief inside your mouth.

And talking about goddamn relief… you wouldn't complain if you got some straightaway. The pooling heat between your legs was getting harder to ignore, just as the nasty thoughts of your boyfriend and the sweet nothing he’d be whispering in your ear if he saw you like that. Though Otto still hadn't arrived, nor answered your several messages, it wasn’t something you couldn't take care of by yourself after all… your patient was running too thin, drowned by desire.

You tossed your phone aside and let your hand travel down your stomach, slowly reaching for that aching spot between your legs… you could feel it slightly throbbing, the painful need built from weeks of denial heating up your body as your panties are already wet from your wanting fluids.

You thought about Otto again, about the firm grip of his hands cupping your buttcheeks until you could see red bruises from his fingers marking down all your skin… how he would pepper those bruises with wet kisses and tell you what a good girl you were. All his. Entirely under his mercy. He was far from being there with you, but still close enough to drive you out of your mind.

The burning lust consuming you like embers was now begging for the much desired attention of your touch. Hard. Fast. You got rid of the clothes standing in your eyes, hissing as the cold air touches your skin and makes your nipples harden.

Laying on your back, you spread out your legs and let your index finger slide between your wet folds before it comes up, now moist from your wetness, to rub your clit. You try it gently first, so painfully slow it makes your core ache, but it’s not enough.

You needed more. Rougher. And so you gave yourself more.

Within a minute, you’re already a mess tossing and turning in the bed. You squeeze your lips shut, holding back those dirty moans you’d so gladly scream without a thought as your fingers worked hard and fast. It felt good, still… you knew you’re holding back. Something was missing. But you weren't stopping. Not now.

Your mind traveled back to Octavius. The bastard… you thought about him, locked up in his lab, too absorbed to notice your desperate need for him. Someway, it only leaves you more aroused. Your heart beat faster, the blood pumping in your ears making the low whimper which escaped your lips almost inaudible for you.

What would he do… if he found you just like that? Legs spread wide, trying so badly to reach your orgasm. Maybe you’re too quiet. Maybe you should let your moans out and disturb your neighbors. Maybe…

“My, my… you’re hopeless, aren’t you?”

That voice. It sends shivers down your spine.

You look up to find Otto by your shared bedroom’s door frame, his silhouette outlined by the city lights coming from the open window. You didn’t hear him stepping in until now.

Suddenly your fingers stop their languid moves, your breath now caught in your throat, “O-Otto, I…”

“What are you doing, love? Should I help you with that?”

You swallow hard, not even daring to blink as Otto casually approaches the bed with his head tilted, eyes shamelessly staring right into your wet throbbing core. You lose it when he licks his lips. You nod as an answer to his inquiry, since the words seem to slip away from your reach. All you could think about was him. The way he walked towards you… pride and lustful.

Could this man possibly read your mind from miles away? Nevertheless, you wanted him more than never, more than anything.

“Hm? I didn’t hear you, my dearest. Would you mind repeating?”

Such a tease, as always… luckily, you played your part as the good girl damn well.

“Yes. Help me…please.”

“Such a polite, pretty thing…” Otto holds your chin up, leaving kisses all along your jawline. His warm lips felt so good on your fever-pitched skin. Oh, you’d love them somewhere else… “I am sorry I left you like this. I’m going to make it up to you, promise.” he seals his words biting on your earlobe, his teeth nibbling so tenderly on your skin it leaves you with goosebumps.

The softest of the sighs rolls out your mouth, your nails finding the way to his back and scratching it lightly. He was still in clothes, though. And you needed to feel his skin. But Otto didn’t seem to share your plans as he removed your hands from his coat, which you’ve already unbuttoned.

“No, love,” he kisses the palm of your hand, putting it away. “Let me cherish you. May I?”

You groan, kinda disappointed, however accepting it without further complaining. Desire may get you a bit out of your mind, but not enough to decline Otto’s courteous caresses. God knows how much you’re craving for them earlier, and in the manner that his heated kisses went down your stomach… you’re more than sure you have everything you need to find your relief.

Otto’s head soon enough is between your legs, the tip of his nose apart from your clit by mere inches. His hands kept a firm grip on your hips, maintaining you pinned to the bed and leaving no room for moving away from him. Not that you were intending to do so anyway.

He has a cheeky grin crooking his lips, so amused to have you under him, with your heart slamming your chest with such a frantic it hurts. Otto could feel the heartbeat under your skin with his fingertip, he could taste your need with the tip of his tongue… just like you thought he’d do.

He takes his time savoring you. You’re his true goddess, which he praises feverishly with every breath of his lungs, each single beat of his devoted heart… and right now, with his tongue. The slowness of his moves is agonizing, though pleasant in its own way. You want more, but you also want to sink into those delightful moments as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. There’s the calm before the storm… but you could already feel the thunder disturbance.

Otto tastes every inch of your wet pussy. His nose follows his tongue, brushing over the sensitive spots he had already luxuriated in. By now, you’re breathless, holding the sheets tightly enough to make your knuckles whiten. You gasp, breath out… but something’s still odd.

“What’s wrong with you, dear? There’s no need to be quiet. I want to hear that vicious voice of yours when I make you cum,” he purrs, earning a lazy smile in response, which is quick to dissolve into an audible moan when his tongue finds its way to your clit, sucking it.

And he keeps sucking right onto that sensitive spot, as much ardently as the temperature of your skin. Something was boiling inside of you… something you couldn’t keep anymore.

Then, the storm breaks.

It washes over your body impetuously, such that Otto has to harden his hold to keep you down to the bed. He’s still sucking on you, no boundaries stopping him as your body trembles. You call his name, and then you scream it. Over and over, like a prayer. Nothing else matters: it is only him, and the bliss he gives you from every wet thrust of his lips and tongue.

Your fingers find their way through Otto’s soft locks. They tangle between the strands, holding them firmly whilst you push his face onto your damp cunt. As insatiable as you, Otto is far from holding back.

Well, he is a man devoted to his work after all… and Otto takes savoring you very seriously. He can feel how close you are, not only by your stomach tightening and the thick air coming out your lungs, but the clench of your walls around his tongue… It drives him wild.

He presses his fingers harder in your hips, fingernails lingering in your skin until they leave red lined marks traveling down to your groin. Otto rests your legs on his shoulders, briefly parting from your core to kiss your inner thighs. You lift your hips towards his mouth, wanting his lips to meet your clit again. There’s no begging, no pleas… he does it.

And with a couple of skilled moves, you came undone. So easily, but not surprisingly. With your eyes closed, the world turned blank: it was all about the euphoria of your orgasm… like fire itself was running in your veins instead of blood, erupting from inside out. Made you everything and nothing. A perfect, lovely mess.

Sweat was still running down your temple when Otto picked you up, holding you tight to his chest and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear to kiss your face tenderly. You could hear his strong heartbeat and feel the erection kept on his pants smoothing your bare lower back.

This was far from over, yet…

“I suppose the bed doesn’t feel cold anymore. Does it?” his thumb caresses your cheek with such affection that it hurts. You’ve missed him deeply. His voice, his arms, his kisses… everything. “I don’t see a sad expression on you now.”

You can’t help but laugh at this point. Well… of course he had read your messages. Thankfully, he knew you too well and came straight home. Although you were a bit too busy to care for his replies… everything went perfectly in the end.

“Consider yourself forgiven, my love.”

[binxyu]

Being the main writer for the college paper made it particularly hard for people not to be in your business because, well, you were in their’s. Thus, everyone in the school was aware of your relationship with Juyeon and Hyunjae. But, that doesn’t stop a flirty athlete from hitting on you.

>>Pairing: Lee Jaehyun x Lee Juyeon (doms) x fem!reader (sub) | athletes!jaehyun and juyeon x writer!reader

>>Word Count: 4.3k

>>Genre: Oneshot / Requested / Smut

>>Warnings/Kinks: Choking, creampie, cum eating, cum play, double penetration, exhibitionism/public sex, harassment (not from the boys), marking, oral (giving + receiving), possessiveness, praise, saliva, and unprotected sex

The reminder you had set on your phone was not enough to take your focus off the man in front of you.

Truth be told, you were quite forgetful for a person with such a tight schedule.

Writing on your hand was tried. It didn’t really work considering you washed your hands consistently throughout the day (damn the germs in colleges), smudging the ink to an unreadable blur on your hand.

Thankfully, that’s how you had met your boyfriends. Yeah, plural. There’s an s there.

You had been rushing towards an assignment you had been given for the paper. It was a request to interview some of the top students in the music department and damn late wasn’t even enough of a word to describe how long ago you were supposed to be there.

Showing up a couple hours late resulted in most of the students already gone, hiding away in their dorms for the afternoon.

But, there were two students still waiting for you. Lee Jaehyun (although he likes people to call him Hyunjae) and Lee Juyeon.

They were your saving grace for your paper and, in return, you let them take you out on a date.

Now, months later, your relationship with them still ran strong.

But, apparently your hearing didn’t because the reminder sound on your phone didn’t even register as you write down practically everything the athlete was telling you.

He actually was a classmate of your’s and a pretty popular one at that. The whole school practically knew about him.

“And that’s how I beat the record”, you nodded sweetly, keeping that signature interviewer smile on your face. It did a fantastic job of getting people to open up and this guy was no exception.

“So, one last question, are you dating anyone?”, you weren’t asking for yourself. Especially not when you were already quite... busy... with the two men you were already dating. It was more for the majority of the female population in the school who did like him.

Besides, everyone in the school knew about you and, more specifically, your polyamorous relationship. It wasn’t seen everyday to be fair. You three stuck out like a sore thumb.

“No, I haven’t really been looking”, bullshit. You had been to the football games, the man loved to rile up the crowd. He practically chucked his shirt into a girl’s face the other night when it was “too hot”.

It was just above 50 degrees that night.

“I see. Thank you for the interview”, you smiled and he nodded, smiling back at you before a lightbulb seemed to go off in his mind.

“Are you looking?”, he must have noticed the shocked expression you had because his hand encased your’s, seemingly trying to soothe you as his thumb traced the back of your hand.

All it did was make you more anxious.

“No, sorry, I’m not. I’m actually taken”, there goes that reminder again but you ignored it. It was probably just your reminder to take your gummy vitamins or something stupid the boys put in there because they cared. Maybe a little too much sometimes.

“Oh, by who?”, it wasn’t a curious question. He didn’t believe you. His tone said it.

“By us”, uh oh.

Turning around, you were met with your two lovers. They hovered over you like angry wolves and you could only feel like a little lamb underneath them.

The athlete had flirted with you before and that only made the situation more intense. Of course the football player knew about your relationship. It just didn’t seem to matter to him.

Until, well, now you guess.

“You didn’t come”, shit. So, that was the reminder?

You had a date with them after this interview and it completely flew out of your mind like a paper lost in the wind.

“Sorry, I lost track of time”, they nodded and, for a moment, you thought you saw their eyes soften as they look at you but they just returned back to those icy cold stares.

Even the muscular athlete was scared. Everyone knew how possessive your boyfriends were.

It was pretty obvious after a particularly ignorant party animal laid his drunk hands on you. Before he could do anything else, he was already thrown on the floor with Juyeon’s fist landing on his cheek while Hyunjae pulled you back into his chest like he was some kind of shield.

It was hot, you weren’t going to lie, but it did make you a little worried for people you truly did just want to be friends with.

“Hey, babies, let’s go. Let’s go have our date now”, you placed each of your hands on their chests. It was a gentle move that always seemed to calm them and you smiled as you felt their heartbeats slow down, your own starting to match theirs as you felt it through your hands.

“Fine but you”, Hyunjae pointed with precision at the man, “stay away from her. She doesn’t like you and she’s said no multiple times. She’s ours” the man finally nodded and ran off while you were stuck standing there with a wave of arousal shooting to your core.

Ignore it. You can’t be walking around with marks again-

The internal scold fell short as the boys wrapped you up in a hug. You could practically feel the warmth from their anger coming off of them in waves.

“Next time listen to your reminders. We set them for you for a reason”, Hyunjae scolded you, grabbing your phone to turn off the pesky sound. You really didn’t hear it. Maybe your hearing does need to be checked.

“I know I know. I’m forgetful”, you pout and the boys looked at it, wanting nothing more than to kiss your pouty lips until they’re swollen. Juyeon just chuckles instead and ruffles your hair sweetly.

It was such a sharp contrast to how cold he looked a minute ago but you were used to it. They were usually cold to others but were exceptionally sweet to you.

Well, most of the time.

“Come on, dory. We’ve got to get outside”, that’s always been Hyunjae’s favorite nickname for you. Sadly, you couldn’t argue that it didn’t suit you.

Sometimes you even forget what your name is.

“Okay”, you nodded and held their hands, walking securely in between them. You always did feel safe with your boyfriends and being without them was honestly terrifying. They were like your bodyguards.

Out in the beautiful field of the campus was a little picnic blanket, laid out with plenty of your favorite foods.

They always loved to spoil you and, while the sight in front of you wasn’t much of a surprise considering it was their favorite form of dates, it made you happy nonetheless.

“Aw, thank you boys”, you gave them both a peck on the cheek and sat down. You weren’t much for public displays of affection.

Hand holding? That was fine. It was their way of saying that you were their’s. But, the bigger things like kissing or hugging? That was more of a private thing for you.

Those were actions you did when the three of you could safely display your love for one another without being judged because, let’s be honest, you’re not much of the outgoing type.

Sure, you have to talk to lots of people for your writing, but that didn’t mean you liked to. You actually liked to keep to yourself.

It was odd considering Hyunjae and Juyeon were quite popular due to their singing skills. Everyone wanted them but they only had their eyes set on you.

They helped you sit down, filling up your plate with delicious treats that almost had you drooling. You just realized how hungry you were when your stomach let out the most obnoxious growl you had ever heard.

Okay- maybe you also forget to take care of yourself. When you’re busy the last thing on your mind is what your body wants. Just the task at hand is important.

“Dory, do we need to start setting reminders for food and stuff too?”, Hyunjae shook his head as Juyeon handed you the plate of food. You quickly shook your head back, taking a bite of the fruit sitting on the plate in your lap.

“No, I just got busy. I’m not too hungry”, Hyunjae looked at you with the most untrusting look. He knew you and he knew that you frequently “got busy” and that meant you frequently forgot to take those vitamins or to at least drink water.

As you ate, you started to circle the important details you had written down during the interview, making a clear note in your head to add those facts into the paper.

Sad thing was: the athlete barely gave you anything to work with. Most of it was just bragging or hitting on you.

“What an asshole”, you sighed and rested your forehead on Juyeon’s shoulder. He simply chuckled and started to run his fingers through your hair. You weren’t a saint by any means but cussing was rare. You found it to be a bad habit in public while you swore like a sailor in the safety of your bedroom.

“Frustrated?”, Hyunjae asked, rubbing your back with his large palm, working the knot he knew you had. They really did know your body so well.

“Yeah, he didn’t really give me anything to work with. Just flirting”, you didn’t mean to let the last part slip out. It was just what you thinking about and sometimes that filter in your brain was clogged with all the useless information you kept there.

“Maybe you could do your report on someone else?”, surprisingly, the response was calm and you had to let out a sigh of relief.

“Maybe. I’d have to ask”, you were the writer for the school but it didn’t mean you had free will. Everything had to be ran by someone else. Every decision.

“Alright, I’d feel much more comfortable if you didn’t have to talk to that guy again”, you nodded in agreement.

God forbid something go right because weeks later, after one failed attempt at switching stories, you were put on the athlete’s case once again. This time it was because he was the reason the school won against their rivals.

So, there you sat on the desk chair. You had just finished your journalism class and, ironically, the jerk was in the class with you. You both just agreed to do the interview in the classroom.

You had already told the boys about it and they promised to check in soon. You were worried but also thankful. Your gut had an awful feeling about this guy.

As you were reaching for your notepad and pen, a hand stopped you. It was wrapped around your wrist and you looked up in surprise to see the athlete’s eyes sparkling with mischief.

That can’t be good.

“Come on, no one has denied me before. Why won’t you go out with me?”, it made you scoff and you yanked your wrist from his cold, rubbing the red flesh with your other hand.

“Because I’m taken. So, drop it”, that seemed to strike a nerve. He looked furious and fear flowed through your body when he got up.

Before he could reach you, a hand gripped the collar of his shirt, lifting him up and throwing him out of the room. Juyeon rushed to you, gently wiping away tears with his thumbs.

Wait- you were crying? You hadn’t even noticed.

Hyunjae seemed to take the high road and just simply shut the door in the student’s face, locking him out.

They honestly rarely fought but when they did it was brutal. That’s why they tried to never do it in front of you.

“Are you okay? He didn’t touch you?”, you reassured him you were fine by letting him look you over, his eyes quickly looking over you as if you had some hidden life threatening injury.

After some time, you were already feeling better. The boys had made it their mission to make you laugh as much as possible in the classroom, doing silly dances and even tickling you. They just loved your laugh too much.

“Baby, I have an idea for your newspaper”, Hyunjae looked a little dazed. Well, more than dazed. You couldn’t blame him considering you had all been playing a game of cards and you sucked so fucking bad at it. Therefore, your little game of stripping if you lost resulting in the boys completely clothed while you sat there completely bare.

“And what is that?”, you shivered as the cold air hit your back. Juyeon pulled you in between his legs and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to keep you warm. Plus, his hold was barely below your breasts and he truly did love those.

“Make it a smut”, you gasped when Hyunjae connected his lips with your’s harshly, a little more rough than usual. Then, it hit you, they held all that anger in just to use it on you.

While you would never actually write a smut for the school paper (unless you really wanted to be fired), you liked to idea of using it to rile them up. They loved your writing and, more specifically, the wonderful sex scenes you wrote.

Anytime you were busy, you’d write them one and then you’d be happy to oblige to their request to act it out when you got back to your dorm. Sometimes they were short scenes and sometimes they were long. Either way, the boys were happy to help you fulfill your fantasies.

The only difference today is that there is no prompt. They get to make up the story themselves.

“Do you want me to tell everyone how good you two fuck me? How well you stretch me out?”, just your words alone had Juyeon’s erection desperately trying to escape the confinement of his jeans. You could feel the bulge against your back and you watched as the wetness started to coat your thighs.

“Yes, tell everyone how good we make you feel”, you nodded in agreement and looked at the door, thankful that there was no windows uncovered in the room.

Finally, feeling safe, you turned around and started to unzip Juyeon’s jeans, pulling it down his legs along with his boxers. You simply tossed them, watching them land on the surface of one of the desks.

Hyunjae wasn’t far behind, removing his own clothes and doing a similar action to them, discarding them as if they were the trash beneath his feet.

“Turn around”, you nodded, turned your body back around and you immediately knew what he wanted. You leaned down to make yourself level with his cock, your eyes running over the veins and the angry red tip. Your ass was right where the man wanted it, high up in front of him.

Your lips wrapped around his shaft, running your tongue along the sides to coat it in your saliva. It always made the movements a bit easier. Juyeon groaned and dove his tongue down your slit, suckling at your clit once he reached it.

The moan you let out sent a vibration through his sensitive tip, causing his thighs to shake slightly. It was a beautiful sight.

Not forgetting about your other boyfriend, you looked up to make eye contact with Hyunjae. He licked his lips as he watched you practically gag on the large cock that belonged to Juyeon.

He was always a bit of a voyeur and, as much as he loved the sight, he couldn’t wait any longer. He sat on his knees next to you and moved his own cock closer to your mouth.

Hyunjae was bigger than Juyeon, stretching you out beyond belief but Juyeon was longer, hitting your cervix with every thrust. Both were a perfect mix of pleasure and pain. Different but well balanced.

You brought your head back, releasing Juyeon from your mouth and you replaced where your mouth had been with your hand, jerking the man off. A long string of saliva connected your mouth to his but you couldn’t care because Hyunjae’s dick was far too tempting to forget.

You wrapped your mouth around his cock now, feeling your jaw lock slightly from the sheer volume you had taken in. He was just as delicious as the previous one and you couldn’t help yourself from sucking him like he was your favorite lollipop. To be honest, he was.

Juyeon slipped a finger inside of your dripping cunt and you whimpered, listening to the sound of your pussy clenching around the digit, soaking it in your wetness.

“I think she can take both of us now”, you stopped for a moment, a little surprised. Sure, you three had discussed double penetration but you never really felt ready. Could you really handle that much?

Maybe you could.

“Let’s do it”, your words came out muffled since you were still infatuated with the taste of Hyunjae’s dick. The boys smirked at one another and Hyunjae gripped your hair to pull you off of him. Your hand instinctively let go of Juyeon’s dick too, missing the feeling of having something to play with.

You never liked to sit still but you knew you probably were going to have to after this session.

“Up here then, baby”, Hyunjae chuckled as you yelped, his arms under your body as he laid you across the desk. You winced when a pencil sharpener landed on the floor off the desk, probably breaking into pieces.

How had no one heard you before this? You had no idea.

Juyeon got up off the floor, rushing to Hyunjae’s side. Hyunjae held your thigh and pushed it open more, taking in the beautiful sight of your glistening pussy. It was his favorite work of art and Juyeon wanted nothing more than to continue the feast he was in the middle of.

“Alright, we’ll go one at a time, okay? If we need to stop then tell us. You okay with this still?”, Juyeon asked softly. Despite how cold they were, they still asked for permission and it was especially important now.

“I’m okay with it. I’ll tell you if you have to stop”, you nodded and looked up at the two. Fuck, you were so lucky.

They both had little stars in their eyes whenever they looked at you and it always reminded you that they were indeed your stars. Those little stars in their eyes only lit up when they looked at you.

Hyunjae decided to go first as the bigger of the two, gently easing his way into you. The stretch was slightly uncomfortable at first but no longer painful. You had adjusted to both of them rather quickly solo but together? That may be a bit harder.

Right when he brushed against that specific spot inside of you, you covered your mouth and moaned, gripping the edge of the desk.

Hyunjae watched you, smirking when he realized you were already becoming overwhelmed with pleasure. He loved watching you try to hold onto anything to keep your grounded to reality. He always seemed to bring you to cloud 9.

“All in. Now you’ll take Juyeon too, right? You’ll be a good girl and take him too?”, you nodded obediently and looked between your legs, noticing that Hyunjae had completely bottomed out inside of you. You already seemed so full, a bulge present in your stomach from where Hyunjae had settled.

Truly, no one could make you feel this good with so little effort but them.

Juyeon gripped your other thigh and pressed small kisses there, a gentle reminder that it was okay to stop him. That he loved you.

He sucked a few marks to the skin, making you whine because once they start they don’t stop. You’ll be covered in marks by the end of the hour.

Once you were spread wider, almost completely folded, Juyeon guided his cock in beside Hyunjae’s. Now, that hurt.

“Slower! Slower please”, Juyeon quickly nodded, noticing that your eyes were watering. He gently wiped them away and stayed still for a moment so you could get used to the stretch. When you nodded, he slowly moved again and you felt your vagina quickly adjust to the size. Like you were made to handle both.

And, now, you couldn’t stop moaning under your hand. It did very little to muffle the noises but it was your only hope of not getting caught.

Hyunjae was pressed against your g-spot as Juyeon had taken it upon himself to settle his tip against your cervix. And, inside of you, their cocks rubbed against each other in an unspoken competition to see who could go deeper.

Of course, Juyeon would win that category but that didn’t matter to Hyunjae.

Both watched their bulges in your stomach as one pulled out and pushed back in. Then, they started alternating until you were so stretched out that they could move together in perfect unison.

The sounds of skin slapping filled the room as they fucked you raw, sharing you in the most perfect way. Everything felt so good that you could already feel the knot forming in your stomach, begging to be released and coat their cocks in your cum.

“You like it, hm? Does it feel good?”, Juyeon teased as he watched your eyes roll back and your nails dig into the wood beneath you. You nodded but your love didn’t like that. He gripped your throat, squeezing it slightly right where he needed to.

The blissful feeling only became more unbearable as you felt some oxygen escape your throat. Tears spilled down your cheeks before he let go, allowing you to breathe.

“Yes! Fuck, I love it!”, the boys leaned down to suck marks all over your breasts, stomach, and hips. Still easy to hide but you knew that wasn’t going to last long.

Their hips snapped against your core as they moved, Hyunjae’s pelvis bone rubbing against your clit perfectly. It made your mouth hang open in a tiny scream and you couldn’t hold it anymore, squirting all over the two as you came.

You had never done that and you were scared that they would hate it but the bright smiles on their faces made you relax. It made you feel good and that’s all that mattered to them.

As the thrusts continued, you squirmed from the overstimulation and Juyeon had to pin you down by your wrists to keep you from falling off the desk.

Their movements became more sloppy and they came together, filling up your clenching cunt with their cum. You felt way too full with all of it and their cocks still inside of you, tapping Juyeon’s arm in a silent plea.

He understood and nodded at Hyunjae, the both of them pulling out to milk the rest of their orgasm’s on whatever they could find. Your thighs, clit, stomach, chest, arms, etc. You looked like the filthiest thing they’ve ever seen and they couldn’t be more proud.

Juyeon put his clothes back on and went out to grab a towel from the locker room as Hyunjae just stared at the cum spilling out of you and down the side of the unfortunate wooden desk.

He seemed to be deep in thought as you tried to breathe correctly, his finger entering your hole without warning and you looked down to see him pull it out. He looked you dead in the eye as he licked off the mixture of cream, humming happily when he found out he loved the taste.

“We taste delicious together”, he leaned down and held your ankles as he started to lap at the cum dripping out of you, eating it up like it was a five star meal. You shivered from the feeling of his warm muscle meeting your cold skin as he licked you clean, licking his lips every time he came up for air.

“How in the world am I going to write an article when that is in my head?”, you motioned to the sight of the cum dripping down his chin. His lips were swollen and his brown locks stuck to his forehead from the sweat. He looked ravishing.

“Smut”, he popped the m for emphasis and you shook your head, letting him kiss you so you could taste it too. It tasted like the best mixture of fruit and you found yourself diving your tongue in his mouth for more.

“Oh yeah, we definitely have to stay together if this is how good we taste”, you giggled and Juyeon had entered just in time to get a taste too. He kissed you, swirling his tongue inside of your mouth before he pulled away. He licked his lips and acted as if he was critiquing a meal.

“I’d have to give my thanks to the chef”, he joked and you smiled, letting out a little chuckle as you tried to sit up but your legs were not having it and neither were your boyfriends.

They rubbed your thighs as you laid back down, trying to ease the soreness in them. Juyeon kissed your hand lovingly and your heart swelled from all the love you felt for the two.

You had no doubt that they were really the ones you were going to spend your life with.

“Looks like the school newspaper is going to have to wait. Unless you feel like writing on a cum stained desk”, Hyunjae chuckled and you huffed, knowing that that paper was definitely not going to be done by its due date.

[lemonjoonah]

Level of Restraint (M)

Pairings: Jimin x Reader, Namjoon x Reader, Taehyung x Reader Word Count: 13K  Rating: M  Genre: Thriller, smut, office AU, BDSM AU  Warnings(contains spoilers): This story contains very dark themes and may not be suited to all readers, protected sex (vag+anal), threesome, double penetration, bondage (including partial suspension), dom/sub roles (reader is a sub), praise kink, mild degration, sensory deprivation, spanking, fingering, cum feeding, mild breathplay, sex toys, exhibitionism, voyeurism, discussion of safe word, Namjoon is a professional dom/sex worker, referenced discrimination of sex workers and those who participate in BDSM, public outing of sexual practices, inappropriate workplace relationships, referenced death of minor character, yandere character, misidentified sexual partner, manipulation, bribery, blackmail, implied stalking, violence.

Summary: As a co-founder of a consulting firm you can’t afford to be caught in a scandal. So flirting with your secretary, Jimin, would be out of the question. Giving your client’s son, Taehyung, a reference for a sexual partner would be reprehensible. And having regular paid BDSM sessions with your dominant, Namjoon? That would be a career ending disgrace. It’s too bad the only restraints in life you approve of are the cuffs that bind you to the bed, because there are those hiding in the dark waiting to take advantage. 

A/N: A huge thank you to everyone who supported me while writing this story. It was hard not to question the level of darkness this tale descends to. In the end your assurances and aid are the only reason this fic made it to fruition. Upon reading you might notice several thematic references to the ‘Fall of the House of Usher,’ by Edgar Allan Poe  and the Greek myth of Tantalus. They are two of my favourite tales, and together they greatly represent the darkened desires depicted in this oneshot.

...

8:55 am KNJ: Good girl.

Your heart races upon receiving the response you’ve been waiting for all morning. The sender had requested proof that you were wearing his last minute gift, and you were happy to oblige with the lewd photo. Finally seeing his simple praise for your efforts makes you grin from ear to ear, as you enter the front door to your workplace’s building. The message will be enough to get you through the day, high on the thought of his praise while his present is wrapped tightly around your ribs. Though the garment may be confining, you’ll endure anything to receive those two simple words.

Reluctantly glancing up from your phone you look ahead to see the elevator closing.

“Hold the door!” You call out, making a run for it. Mercifully the gap between the doors widens allowing you to climb in before it begins the long haul up. Glancing over to your savoir, you find your secretary standing at the panel. “Thanks Jimin.”

“No problem,” he responds with a warm smile. “What floor do you need?” Joking as he pushes the button labelled 14. 

You playfully shove his arm while trying to catch your breath. Had he left you down on the first floor there's no telling how long it would be before the elevator returned. The building in which you work has been down to one lift for a couple days, with no promise of when the other will be fixed. It’s not a surprise really, ever since you moved into this complex three years ago you’ve been plagued with breakdowns and shotty utilities. Considering how opulent  the tower is, with it’s gilded elevators and halls adorned in finery you expected better, but people often overlook flaws when they have something pleasant to stare at. Allowing the management to slack on some of the failings of the structure. 

“Do you think you could send maintenance another message?” You ask your hand clutching your waist to comfort the stitch in your side, no doubt a result of the corset concealed beneath your clothes. 

“Consider it done.” Jimin replies, pulling out his phone. “Are you okay Miss?” He asks, your heavy breathing failing to go unnoticed judging from the concern in his voice.

“Fine.” You quickly change the subject, not wanting to linger on your current state. “What’s on my schedule for today?”

“You have a consultation with Mr. Kim of HOC Industries in an hour-” 

“Really?” You cut in, confused about the sudden change. “But I just saw him a few weeks ago. Why is he coming in?”

“He didn’t say, I just got a message last night from him stating he required an appointment immediately.”

“That’s not a good sign...” You groan, wondering what information had dropped to spur a need for such an urgent response. 

“Afterwards you have an early lunch with journalist Min. Followed by a one o’clock appointment with Jeon Jungkook to go over the new web layout. And the rest of office hours are slated as admin.” 

You cringe over the prospect of bookkeeping. Your accountant’s involvement in a recent accident, placed him on an extended leave of absence. Since you are the only other member of your small staff qualified to balance the books, this leaves you burdened with his duties. “Remind me later to make a posting for a temp position.”

“Noted,” Jimin remarks as he continues to scroll through his phone. “Oh and don’t forget, you also have your monthly massage appointment with Kim Namjoon tonight.”

You smile at the thought, you would never forget a booking with him, especially since he’s the reason for your current state of breathlessness. You’ve been counting down the days until you get to see him, with only a few hours left you can barely contain yourself. To everyone who asks he’s a masseur, but the services he provides are far more aggressively intimate than a standard massage. You force a small cough to cover the involuntary moan starting to escape. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.” It’s not a complete lie, with the stress from work there have been a lot of restless nights recently, your appointment tonight should help to relieve a bit of that tension. There’s a loud groan as the elevator comes to a stop at your floor. You look up to the top of the lift and over to Jimin with worry, both of you stepping off with haste once the doors open.

Your entire office space consists of only a few rooms. You and Hoseok had started this company only a few years ago, focusing on corporate consultations regarding public image and approval. All things considered you’re doing rather well. With your negotiation tactics, Hoseok's philanthropy efforts, and Yoongi on retainer as your media source, you’ve been able to take on several giant corporations.    

As you walk down the hall you find the temperature starting to rise, and upon stepping into your’s and Jimin’s shared office, you’re hit with a wave of heat. You whisper your curses as you check the thermostat which has been jacked to its highest setting and refuses to shift back down. 

Giving up on the system you turn to the windows, but even those are a struggle after being neglected for so long. You call out to Jimin for assistance, waiting no more than a second before he is by your side. But even with his help you only manage to open them to the grand extent of a sliver before you’re forced to give in. At least with your office door open there’s now a small draft pervading the space.

“I guess I’ll send maintenance another message,” Jimin chuckles.

“You don’t think he’s trying to push us out do you?” You inquire about the building owner, and one of your own clients. You don’t usually make such bold claims, but with Jimin’s ties to the dubious man, it’s hard not to ask.

“I wouldn’t put it past him. Though I think this is more likely due to his lack of regard for the workmanship going into his properties.”

You nod overlooking the now stuffy room which holds both your desks. It serves its purpose with a sufficient amount of daylight from the large windows, and a partial wall giving you each a bit of privacy. You’d rather not have to leave this building and the status that comes with it, but there seems to be no end with these faulty appliances. “So much for being the height of sophistication.”

While you settle into your workspace you’re already dying from the heat, a sweater and camisole overtop your corset was not the best choice for today, but you didn’t want to risk anyone noticing the garment beneath. As you shuffling through your newsite tabs Jimin readies the coffee maker, returning to you with the first dose of your daily caffeine needs. 

“You’re a saint.”

Jimin smiles brightly at your compliment, living for the praise as always. “Do you want some ice on the side?” He laughs as you tug on your sweater to stop it from sticking to your skin.

“Only if I can rub it all over.” You sigh jokingly as you take a sip of the hot beverage.

“I’d be happy to assist.” His smirk and piercing gaze look to be downright serious, his flirtation hitting a new high today.    

“Sorry Jimin, I already have a massage appointment later. I think Namjoon would be very upset if you took his job from him.”

“That’s too bad.” He mutters, his lip still curled into a smile before stepping away from your desk. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’d be more than willing to compensate him for his loss.” Jimin has never been shy about his attraction to you, a desire which you most certainly reciprocate, but your own company policies keep the both of you tied to flirtatious word play. With Jimin winning more often than not when it comes to provocative sentiments.

He hangs around on your side of the room, straightening the chairs and stray flies, while you continue your search for whatever prompted the need for your haste meeting. At last you find it, on the featured articles of a prominent celeb news site, with the headline reading, ‘The Dark Desires of the Kim Family Heir.’

Much to your chagrin the issue isn’t regarding your client, but his son. As much as you try to stay out of personal family matters, sometimes they are unavoidable, and this looks to be one of those cases.

‘Kim Taehyung has long been considered one of the most eligible bachelors. He has it all, money, power, and a spot on every top ten most attractive list, but those who have been with him more intimately say he craves something more...’ 

Your mouth falls open in horror as one of Taehyung's former partners exposes their most intimate moments with him. ‘The Gucci suits and custom cologne are just an expensive mask for the darkness beneath. He would ask to be tied, bound to the bed and struck. He wanted pain and pleasure...’ The further you read the more your chest tightens. You’d rather not jump to conclusions, but you wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true. A fact which must make it all the more painful for Taehyung. You can only imagine what he must be going through, to have such private details exposed and exploited. He’s currently living your worst nightmare, a societal judgement over one's deepest desires. For professional reasons it would probably be best to stay out of this private matter, but you can’t in good consciousness let him suffer alone.

“That bad?” Jimin asks.

“Yeah...” You cover your mouth to hide your shuddering breath, blinking away the tears that threaten to spill on Taehyung's behalf.

Jimin shuffles in behind your desk with you. By lowering himself to read off your screen, his face falls next to yours. His hands come to rest on your shoulders as he leans in to eye the article in question. You should shoo him away, but you can’t help but be curious of his response to those who engage in such practices. As his eyes scan the page his grip on you tightens, his breathing erratic just like yours, with a whispered “‘Fuck,” escaping his lips. 

“Are we interrupting something?” A voice calls out from your open door. 

Your head snaps over in shock to find your next appointment waiting for you, with his son in tow. You jump up pushing Jimin back so you can greet your guests properly. “Mr. Kim! No not at all,  please come in. This must be-”

“Taehyung...” The younger man mutters as he walks in, slumping down in one of the chairs in front of your desk. His sunglasses are still in place, the smell of spirits wafts over you along with the spicy scent of what must be his referenced cologne. He’s a sight to behold, a person of his caliber could make a fortune off his looks alone; he wouldn’t even need a drop of his father's fortune. But of course, that would have been before this public outing of his bedroom tendencies. Now he’s more likely to be seen as a pariah rather than an asset.

Directing the elder to the seat next to him, you take your own once again as Jimin retreats to his desk. You don’t even have the chance to exchange pleasantries before Mr. Kim launches into the purpose of their visit. “I assume you saw the article about my son?”

“I did, but-”

“And? What can we do about it? How can we spin it? Our stocks have already taken a hit.”

“Your son just had a serious breach in personal privacy...” You pause hoping that he’ll have some semblance of a realization that he is not the victim here, instead he simply waits for you to continue. Attempt to hold in your dismay, you give him the only answer you can, “Sue for defamation if you’d like, but whether they are printing fact or fiction the damage is done. The press is still focusing on your family due to your early misdealings in your company. I would argue that if you turn the view of operations around then there is a very good chance that the media will start to back off personal affairs.”

“You can’t expect me to twiddle my thumbs and wait. My shareholders are currently questioning his ability to lead, they might seek to replace him.”

“Good.” Taehyung mutters. “If those prudes have a problem with me, I’d rather not have to work with them.”

You bite your lip to conceal a snort of laughter.  Mr. Kim fails to notice but his son seems to have caught your slip, taking off his glasses, he pierces you with a strong gaze.

Kim senior starts up again looking for sympathy and a way out, “Do you know how many of his flings I’ve had to pay off in the past-”

“Maybe you should just stick to your own business.” Taehyung eyes his father darkly.

“They made it my business when they started squealing to the press about what kind of man you are.”

You try to rein the situation in, this battle between father and son having no place in your office. “Mr. Kim! I would actually like to speak to your son for a moment. We can see if there’s a possible remedy for this... exposure.” You stand up, calling over the wall for your secretary "Jimin? Would you mind taking Mr. Kim to see Hoseok?” You turn back to your elder client, practically pushing him out the door into your secretaries’s care. “Jung Hoseok has been continuing his work on your company's philanthropic efforts. I’m sure he would love to show you what he has done with your portfolio.”

“Do you need me to come right back Miss?” Jimin asks with a pleading stare, his eyes flicker over to the young man still slumped in his seat.

“No I think we’ll be okay for a bit.” You mutter to him quietly as Mr. Kim proceeds down the hall. “Just keep him away for a few minutes.”

Once they're both gone you sit back down across from Taehyung with a sigh.

“So are your going to talk some sense into me?” He drawls with disdain.

“Fuck no,” you scoff, rummaging through your drawer. “Can I get you anything coffee, water... advil?”  You finally pull out the bottle of pain relievers and offer one to him as you take one yourself, your head ready to explode in frustration over his father. 

He tilts his head looking somewhat surprised, “So why did you send him away then?”

“I thought you could use a break. I’ve worked with many people like your father, they all want things done their way, and you’ll never be able to tell them otherwise. He’ll never admit to his faults, and the fact that he’s the real reason the media is all over you. So as long as you don’t tattle on me, we both can make it through this meeting with him thinking that he’s won.”

“Deal,” Taehyung agrees while he chuckles at your ploy. 

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” You offer once again.

“Actually I’ll take some advil.”

“I thought you might.” You poor him glass from the cooler and offer up the pill. When his sleeve pulls back to reach for the cup you can’t help but notice the glaring red evidence of a rope abrasion on his wrist. While he throws back the pain killer, you take another sip of your coffee rolling the bitterness over your tongue before breaching the difficult subject. “It can’t be easy to have the press prying into every aspect of your private life.”

“It’s not so much that they pry, but...” Taehyung hesitates, his brow furrows as his fingers run through his hair tugging on the strands between his fingers.  “People know that they can go to them with a story and make money off any relations I have with them. And the press will gladly pay top dollar for what they have to offer.”

“The story is not a complete fabrication then?” You already know it’s not judging from his father's response and the marks on his arm, you just need to hear him say it. 

“No, it’s mostly true.” He admits, watching your reaction.

“Then it would seem that your desires might be thought unconventional by many of your past partners?”

Taehyung nods, taking another sip of his water. 

“From one unconventional individual to another,” you pause waiting for your own admission to sink in. To your delight Taehyung immediately perks up listening attentively as you continue. “There are more discreet ways to fill those needs.”

“Are you offering?” He asks, raising a brown along with the corner of his lips.

“No, I doubt that I would be very good at meeting your cravings, since we both hunger the same type of... attention.” You smile back at him, rejoicing in your mutual secret. “But I do have a friend who will take very good care of you. I’m going to give you a name and phone number, it’s up to you if you want to contact them, but I can assure you any conversations or actions between you and them will be kept strictly confidential. It’s not cheap,” you explain, but doubt that’ll be a problem for him. “But I assure you it’s safe and private.”

Taehyung can barely get the information from you fast enough once you jot it down. His hands, reaching for the sheet, accidentally knock over your coffee instead, sending the drink in your direction and staining your sweater. “I’m so sorry, here let me help you.” Taehyung jumps up and runs and grabs napkins from the coffee station. 

“It’s fine really.” You assure him, making an attempt to stop him as he starts to blot the saturated material. 

Unfortunately it’s at this moment that Jimin walks in to see your precarious state. He stands there for a moment in silence before explaining the reason for his return. “Mr. Kim said he needs to leave soon, Miss. He wanted to see if you two were... finished.” There’s glare set in his eyes for Taehyung's forwardness.

“Yeah, be right there, just one second.” You turn back to Taehyung, exchanging the damp napkin in his hand for the paper you had just written on. “Think about it, I hope you’ll give him a call. I don’t give out his information unless I think it will be of help to someone.”

“Kim Namjoon,” Taehyung mutters quietly while reading the slip. “If I were to go see him, would I find you there too?” He looks back up at you, biting his lip after posing his query.

“Likely not, he keeps his sessions very private, but you can always discuss your...” You glance over to Jimin who is still waiting, and well within earshot. “Preferences with him.”

“Then I’ll consider it, thank you.”

After seeing Mr. Kim and his son off, you're left to deal with the stain on your sweater, with only fifteen minutes before you have to leave for your lunch appointment. “Jimin could you call Yoongi and let him know I’m running a little late? I need to stop by my apartment on the way.”

“No need, I’ve got an extra shirt here.” He pulls out one of his own from his desk. “ I know it’s a men’s fit, but I think we can make it work.” 

“Why do you keep that here?” You laugh. He only looks at you and the stain with a raised brow, no words needed to prove his point. “Never mind, stupid question, but I can’t take your shirt Jimin.”

“I insist, go put it on.” He forces it into your hands as you double check your watch, your time constraints leaving you with little choice. 

Stepping behind the dividing wall, you strip down to your camisole, breathing a sigh of relief that the beverage hadn’t seeped into the fabric of the corset. Quickly throwing his button up over top and tucking it in, you check to ensure your intimate garment is still hidden relatively beneath the shirt before coming back out for his opinion “Does it look okay?”

Jimin nods, but when he reaches out to touch the shirt you recoil, fearing that he will discover what you wear beneath. He chuckles and persists, “I’m just fixing your collar.” He moves in closer standing just a couple inches away. Pinching the two seams of the fabric together, he considers the change. “I think it would look better like this.” You nod, keeping silent as he follows through. Pulling the fabric tight around your throat, your breathing is forced to pause for a moment as he fastens the top button. “Better?” He asks, while his hands linger around your neck.

“Much.” You whisper, as his fingers drift up to hold your chin, with the tip of his thumb dragging along the edge of your bottom lip. You stand there confused as to why your flirtatious game has taken such a physical turn. Although his actions are prohibited and should be censured, you can’t fully condemn them, deciding instead to remove yourself, rather than reprimand him. “I-I should go. I don’t want to be late meeting Yoongi.”  

...

It was a productive lunch to say the least, but that was by no means thanks to you. Your focus was distinctly elsewhere. While you toyed with your bottom lip, thinking of how Jimin had touched it just moments before, Yoongi gave you everything you needed to secure several new clients. Even now as you return, disembarking the elevator on to your floor, you still can’t concentrate on the day ahead.

On the walk back to your office Hoseok catches you, quickly pulling you into his own and closing the door behind. “You need to do something about Jimin.” 

“Wh-what do you mean?” You ask, nervous that he had seen you two together before you left for your meeting.

“Your client earlier, Mr. Kim, he said that he caught you two acting rather close, making suggestions that you two are involved in a sexual relationship. Usually I would disregard a comment like his but-” 

“It’s not true, you know I wouldn’t!” As much as you might want to act on Jimin’s advances you’ve never crossed that line. You know it must have been bad for Hoseok to bring it up, for him to take this serious tone is evidence of his deep concern. 

“I know that, but this isn’t the first time someone has thought you two might be a little too intimate. Some of the staff have also considered the notion. And I can see why, the way he looks at you, talks to you...” Hoseok trails off as his eyes linger on your apparel in confusion. “You weren’t wearing that earlier were you?” 

“No, I had some coffee spill on me earlier. Jimin was nice enough to loan me his.”

Hoseok tilts his head as he raises his brow as if this validates his concerns.

“He was just being helpful!” You offer, but Hoseok doesn’t look to be swayed, and he’s right, this is a workplace not a morning after situation. “Fine, I see your point. So what do you suggest?”

“Redistribute him, send him my way if you have to, god knows that I could use the extra hand. You could even play it off as a promotion, just get him out of your office.” Your heart drops at the thought, not wanting to give him up. Hoseok seeing this takes a softer tone. “Listen I can see that you like him too. I’m sure it feels good to have his attention, but you need to get this out of your system. You have to put a stop to it. We can’t afford a scandal and you know it.” 

With the assurance that you’ll think on the issue, and giving Hoseok your solution by tomorrow, you return to your office. But the problem is far from easy, though you did not lie about your physical relationship to Hoseok, you have been keeping something from him. From all of them. Jimin will never accept a promotion if it takes him away from you. He’s never worked here for the money, he doesn’t need to when his father owns half of the city, this building included. 

...

-3 years ago-

“Mr. Lee, thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me.” You pull out the chair to sit across from him. The massive mahogany desk of his placing a rather large distance between the two of you. 

“Yes well, my building manager said you were very persistent.” There’s a small roll in his eyes as he looks from you down to the computer in front of him. 

“I wanted to discuss one of your properties, an office space in the Madeline Suites.”

He takes a swift glance at your modest appearance with narrowing eyes. “Forgive me, but I believe that location might be out of your price range.” 

“Monetarily yes,” You agree. “But we offer services which might be helpful to you.”

“I do not deal in favours. I can see that this meeting was a waste of time, you may go.” He waves the back of his hand to shoo you out, while his secretary grabs the door from the outside.

“I am not asking for a favour, but offering you my services. I’m the co-founder of a corporate image consulting firm. And come this time tomorrow, I believe you’ll be looking for someone within our realm of dealings.”

“And what makes you say that?” Lee asks, his words laced with cynicism. 

You lay out the first page of the article which Yoongi had sent you, stretching it across the wooden surface to place it in Mr. Lee’s view. ‘Real Estate Developer Lee Gungsang Faced Prior Allegations of Unlawful Evictions and Price Hiking.’ “This is slated for tomorrow morning’s front page.” 

Mr. Lee is quick to send his secretary off, the door shutting once again. “How do you know about this? These cases were settled before they made it anywhere near the courts.”

“I have my sources.” 

“Then stop this! I will pay whomever needs to be paid to prevent this from leaching out. You want the office space, it's yours.” He’s voice is desperate, you have him on the hook, the question now is, how long will he let you drag him for?

“That’s very generous of you, but nothing will stop this from going out tomorrow. My offer is simply to help you get ahead of it and lessen the damage.” You explain, revelling in the fact that money can’t hide everything.

“And how do you propose to do that?”

You pull out a contract for your serves. “I will need you to sign off on my services first. A small fee plus a far more reasonable price for a three year lease of the offices on the 14th floor of the Madeline Suites”

“Without knowing your plan, I think not.”

You give him a bright smile before mimicking his earlier statement. “I do not deal in favours Mr. Lee.”

He grumbles while taking the pen, eyeing you with a dark gaze as he signs on the dotted line.

With the ink still drying you hand over another small document. “Here are a few of my suggestions. Twenty percent of the commercial residences that you have just vacated will be handed over to non-profits for a drastically reduced monthly lease. I’ll even let you pick which you want to support.” 

He looks up at you mortified. “This is excessive.”

“No this is necessary. I’ve seen corporations do far more than this when they are not dealing with a scandal. Your accountants will agree with me that this is the best move, it can be seen as a donation and therefore tax deductible. For the evicted  private residences, I was thinking of partnering with a refugee resettlement program but we can discuss that more in depth later.” 

You carefully tuck away your contract in Lee’s file before dragging another concern to the forefront. “I do have one more request, before I leave today.”

“What more could you possibly want?” He scoffs.

You lean in to deliver your short but important demand. “A heads up.”

“I don’t know what you mean...”

“I mean if there are any other past dealings or actions which might impact your company I need to be aware of them.” There’s always more hidden in the dark, you have one of those secrets on hand now. You need to see if he’s willing to be upfront with you on every dealing of his past, otherwise you might be forced to dig him out from another grave a couple weeks from now. 

“There’s nothing else.” 

“Nothing?” You ask again as you pull out your phone ready to bring forward more evidence. 

“No.”

“So the knowledge of you having and hiding an illegitimate son... you don’t think that’s important? The existence of the only child of the Lee empire, isn’t newsworthy?”

“How did you-” The terror in his face looks to be even greater than the prior accusation. 

“You attempted to evict all of the residents who stayed in your residential apartment for over 10 years if they refused to agree with a massive lease hike. Park Jimin was the only one who wasn’t touched. He has no record of a job, living off what must be money given to him by his parents, so I looked into them. His father wasn’t listed but his late mother, Park Haesoon, used to work for your company, and 22 years ago she signed a NDA issued by your lawyer.” 

You open to Jimin’s public instagram page turning it around for his father to see. “He may take mostly after his mother, but I can still see a few clues to your family resemblance.”

“When does this one drop?” Lee asks in dismay.

“It’s not going to, at least, not from me or my source. We try not to deal in personal life consulting, but I am going to give you some advice in this matter. Get ahead of it.”

“My wife won’t hear of it.” Mr. Lee mutters through clenched teeth, it’s easy to see that this conversation has him very much on edge.

You nod seeing the crux of his dilemma. “I looked into the approximate date of his conception, you were newly married at the time, were you not?”

“Yes. She knows, but her family does not, they have a large political presence and we cannot afford to lose all support from them. Trust me, the boy is not worth the risk.”

“He’s your child!” You berate the CEO, your anger getting the better of you as you think of the emotional toll on Jimin. Not only did he lose his mother but his father won't even publicly acknowledge him. 

“I won’t be swayed on this matter. If you have nothing else to say you may leave.” Mr. Lee rises from his desk and once again gestures towards the door. “I’ll have keys to your new office space delivered to you tomorrow along with the lease. But I should warn you, if there is even a whisper of his name in public in conjunction with mine, I can assure you, your so-called firm won’t last another week.”

...

Less than a month later you and Hoseok have moved your entire enterprise to the new office space. You’re holding an open house for several different staff positions, when the most unlikely of applicants walks in your door, Park Jimin. 

He hands you a piece of paper which you can only guess is his resume, because your eyes fail to leave his face, your mouth unable to form words in your state of shock. Closing the door behind him, he gives you a nervous smile. “Judging from your expression, I take it you know who I am?”

You manage a single nod, still confused as to why he’s here, now, with you. It’s lucky you’re conducting the interviews alone, otherwise it would be difficult to explain your shock to Hoseok without exposing Jimin’s lineage. 

“I’ve been wanting to meet with you,” Jimin confesses, adding sheepishly, “My father told me of your meeting. He said you took a bit of an interest in me, even found my social media accounts.” 

“Oh, oh no.” You finally manage to sputter out, far more anxious with the younger man than his father. You never intended to meet Jimin, let alone have him find out you dug into some very personal aspects of his past and present. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t intend to invade your privacy. I was only trying to figure out what was going on. And when I learned the truth, I wanted him to own up to his mistake of hiding you.”

Jimin chuckles lightly, sitting down in front of you, “I didn’t come here looking for an apology Miss, I know why you did it. I merely wanted to meet one of the few people to ever successfully scare the shit out of my father.” 

The wide beaming smile accompanying his statement spurs a laugh from you, while also allowing you to relax in his presence. “Sometimes you have to intimidate these people to get them to do the right thing. But I’m sorry I wasn’t able to convince him to go public regarding everything.”

“That’s not your fault. In the end it was just nice to hear that there's someone who thinks I deserve better.” Jimin adds, with a look of sorrow leaching into his smile.

“Of course you do, but I must ask, why come here now?” You take a moment to confirm that it is in fact his resume that he’s handed you. ”I can’t imagine that you need a job.” He’s appearance alone is enough to tell you he’s buried in wealth, though his father has not given him the family name, it looks as if Jimin has gained some of the assets.  

“Actually that’s exactly what I was looking for.”

“Your father didn’t pressure you to come here to keep an eye on me did he?” You ask with scepticism. Keeping watch over possible threats wouldn’t be a completely off brand for those of his status. And with you knowing some of his deepest secrets you could likely be considered one of the biggest risks.

“No.” Jimin chuckles, briefly raising his hands in surrender. “I promise I’m here of my own volition. Money isn’t my biggest concern, I’ve been hoping to build connections. I want to use my time wisely and work with someone who is worthy of my focus, and that just so happens to be you.” He finishes with a suggestive smirk, making you wonder if you’ve won his affection too. 

“And what does your focus get me?” You ask, trying to weigh the benefits versus the risk. You doubt that Mr. Lee will respond kindly to you hiring his son, but if he continues to deny his son’s  existence then what right does he have to disagree? 

“Anything you require. I was interested in the posting for your secretary, but any position beneath you would suit me nicely.” 

...

There’s no way you’ll be able to convince Jimin to willingly change roles and work for Hoseok instead. But you can’t deny that your co-founder’s points are valid. 

Jimin greets you warmly as you enter your office. “Did you have a nice lunch?” 

“Yeah, it was good.” You respond, forcing out a smile.

“Really? Because you look upset.” 

You curse Jimin’s ability to read you at a time like this. “I promise, lunch was fine. Yoongi gave me some substantial leads.” You sigh sliding back in your seat. With your values shaken and morals questioned by Hoseok, you are deeply in need of someone to brace yourself on. Wanting to step out of the realm of responsibility and control even if it’s just for a moment, you make a request to Jimin. “Would you go fetch Jungkook for our meeting?”

“I can just call him in.” He makes the case looking reluctant to leave your side.

“Please Jimin just go get him. I need a few minutes for a personal call.”

Jimin looks at you crestfallen before finally leaving. It’s not often you keep things from him, he can scope you out too well for that. But Kim Namjoon’s actual role in your life is the one secret you feel is the most imperative to hide from him.

You pull out your cell, not wanting to use his number on your work phone. After two rings he picks up. “Couldn’t wait a few more hours to hear my voice baby girl?”

You're too embarrassed to admit he’s right, settling on another excuse for your call. “N-no I just wanted to let you know that I’ve sent someone your way... sir.”

“Don’t lie to me I can hear the need in your voice.” He chuckles lightly as he taunts you. “Your reference already reached out to me. I’m excited to play with him, is he just as handsome as he sounds?”

“More so.”

Namjoon hums on the line in gratification. “My babygirl, giving me another pet to play with.” 

You blush from the praise. Taehyung makes the sixth person you’ve suggested following the charity ball you met Namjoon at a couple years ago. Where he, much like you, was secretly scoping out potential clients. Every one of those patrons you’ve given him since then has been his pet, but you, you’re his babygirl. 

“I was wondering...” Namjoon’s carries on, in a tone far more hesitant than usual. “Tonight would you be willing to try something a little unconventional? Would you like to share him?”

“W-would that be okay?” He’s never suggested adding another to your sessions before, but you can’t deny you’re intrigued by the prospect.

“He mentioned an interest in you, and after discussing his needs I feel that I require someone other than myself to pin his desires on. You’ll be the carrot while I’ll be the stick. Do you think you could do that for me?”  Namjoon proposes in a low purr dragging every heated thought and possibility to the forefront of your mind.  

“Yes sir.” Your response is instant, with little thought required. Helping Namjoon with Taehyung? You’d be a fool to turn down the opportunity. There’s a small knock on your office door with the return of Jimin and Jungkook trailing behind him. You start to panic while still on the phone with Namjoon. “I’ll see you later then?”

Namjoon can of course detect the change in your tone, but instead of letting you off the hook he pulls you further. “Did someone walk in on you babygirl? I take it they don’t know about this side of you?”

“No they don’t.”

“No sir.” He calls out your lack of decorum, an error which you know you’ll pay for later. “Such a shame they’re missing out. What do you think they would say if they knew of my plans for you tonight? How I intend to hang you like forbidden fruit above another man. Do you think they would approve?” 

Your eyes widen as Namjoon continues and Jungkook takes the seat in front of you with Jimin standing behind him. You clear your throat and hold up your finger to them, gesturing for another minute. Turning away to hide your face as you continue to try and end the call. But hanging up on one’s dom is never advisable, condemning you to listen for as long as he wishes to torment. 

“I bet you would like them watch, wouldn’t you?” Namjoon asks, egging on your sinful thoughts, transferring them from Taehyung over to your co-workers.

You shift your thighs trying to dispel the building need as you consider the notation of them watching. Imagining Jungkook’s wide eyes taking in the sight, likely with a hand on his cock, he’s an innocent man with strong desires. You’ve known others like him before, they act with naivete but when confronted with an opportunity for more, they don’t hesitate to gorge on what is presented to them.

And Jimin, would he accept your darker needs? You wish he would, desperately wanting him to play along, to help mould you into submission. Your head now filled with thoughts of kneeling before him taking him in your mouth while he christens you a good girl. If only you could be sure that he wouldn’t react like most people, like those who condemned Taehyung. Your eyes flutter back over to your secretary who is looking at you with deep suspicion. You desperately need to end the call or risk giving yourself away. “I should probably-”

“Am I embarrassing you baby girl?” Namjoon teases with an amused laugh. “Does that mean I’m right?”

“Yes...”

“Yes sir.” Namjoon reminds you once again. “I’ll release you for now, but I better see you here at seven o’clock sharp. Is that understood?”

You breathe a sigh of relief at the release.  “Yes sir.” After finally hanging up, you offer up an apology. “Sorry about that.”

“Who was it?” Jimin inquires with a soft tone, but  a quick lick to his lips shows his intentions to be far from innocent. His clenched fists and hovering nature further pointing towards jealousy.

“No one important.” You smile through the lie, careful in your attempt to comfort him. It’s pointless to keep acting in this way, but you still can’t bear the thought of disheartening his feelings or pushing him away. 

...

After your meeting with Jungkook, you're left with a stack of paperwork and your ever persistent lack of concentration as you try to figure out what can be done with Jimin. Should you just tell him the issue, would it help or would it make the situation worse? If he knows how he is perceived then will the affection stop, and if it does, will you struggle with that loss?

“Can I walk you to your car Miss?” Jimin asks with his jacket in hand. You check the time, reading just after five. So lost in thought you had accomplished almost nothing in the last few hours of the day.

“I think I might just stay here until I have to leave for my appointment, I still have a bit more work to do.” You explain rubbing your hands over your face as you pull yourself from your daze.

“Do you want me to stay too then?” 

“No, I couldn’t ask that of you. But before you go I’d like to discuss something” You gesture to the seat across from you which he takes with hesitation. You’re usually not so formal and he can clearly spot the difference. You open your mouth and pause trying to find the right words as his eyes shine in your direction. The evening sun pouring into the room bathing his skin in with golden light makes it so much harder to stick to the issue at hand. You eventually resort to staring at the irrelevant papers on your desk as you open with your concern. 

“I’m worried that our actions towards each other imply that our relationship is not strictly professional.” You blurt it out quickly, hating every word that crosses your lips.

“Have I been making you uncomfortable Miss?” Jimin’s expression falls along with his question, the heartbreak ringing out clear in his voice. 

“No, no. It’s just, I’m concerned about how others see our interactions.”

“Oh, so someone said something to you then?” 

“Hoseok mentioned that a few people think we appear to be a bit more than boss and secretary.” You know it cowardly to bring Hoseok into this, but the information is second hand. You can’t be sure what others have said exactly.

“Well you do know more about me than most.” Jimin laughs lightly. 

“That’s not what they are implying. They think we are engaged in a sexual relationship.”

“And...” He draws the word out as if the implication is nothing, implying there should be a better reason for your concerns. 

“We aren’t Jimin!”

“Well, there's only one way to fix that.” He stands up leaning towards you over your desk. “You can’t say you haven’t thought about it. We could keep it a secret if you’d like, no one has to know.”

You doubt Jimin could keep a relationship between the two of you hidden, with the way he dotes on you already, you’re one passionate night away from finding three dozen roses on your desk. “Someone would find out, and the fall out-”

“Fuck the fall out,” Jimin states with resolve, reaching out his fingers tucking back a strand of your hair before curling beneath your chin. “I’m tired of this charade. Hoseok only said something because he’s jealous. He’s jealous that you want me as much as I want you.”

“Jimin,” You whisper. “Even if that was the case, that still doesn’t make it right.” You pull back from his touch. “You should go. Think about what I said, because if we can’t maintain at least some level of restraint and professionalism... then you might be better off working for someone else in the office.”

“So you’d rather keep your social image than be happy with me?” Jimin accuses, the usual warmth having completely vanished from his face.

“It’s not like that. My standing is my life, it’s my career, any blemish would destroy everything I have.” You attempt to express the fear inside you, the weight that bears on you every day. You already have so many secrets and liabilities, but one as close and extensive as a relationship with him might finally crush you and everything you’ve built. “I like you, I really do, but I can’t take the risk. You have to understand, I’m not like you. I don’t have a secret trust fund to fall back on.”  

Jimin looks as though you’ve stabbed him, pulling away he heads to the exit. “I’m sorry I’m not worth the risk. You know, I thought you were better than that, but it would seem you’re just like everyone else.” 

The door slamming between you echoes through the office as you sag in your chair. Never in all your years have you ever sunk so low. By taking him on you wanted to ensure Jimin’s happiness, to show him his value despite the lack of acknowledgement  from his father, but now it seems you’ve fallen into the same role as those who have hurt him before.

  ...

You type your code into Namjoon’s door, stepping into his hall quickly and shutting the door behind you. It’s just before seven and usually you find him in his living room already waiting, but today it’s empty. Not wanting to disturb him, you take a seat on the couch and wait patiently for him to join you. 

You feel ready to fold in on yourself as you continue to dwell on your argument with Jimin. If you laid out boundaries earlier you likely wouldn’t be where you are now. Hating yourself over his confession, and your inability to accept it. 

There’s movement from the bedroom door as Namjoon’s partner Seokjin comes out to greet you. You look up in bewilderment as he takes your hand, pulling you off the couch. “Namjoon has already started with the other client, so he sent me to fetch you.” 

You nod understanding Namjoon’s divergence from the norm, it wouldn’t be safe practice for him to leave Taehyung alone in a precarious position. Now looking to the door with curiosity, you’re excited by what lustful visions will greet you on the other side. But when Seokjin presents something to you it’s clear that you won’t get to see those sights.

“You’ve been asked to wear this.” He holds out a wide silken strip, one that Namjoon has used as a blindfold in the past. You allow Seokjin to cover your eyes, with a touch far more gentle than you know Namjoon’s to be. You don’t want kindness, craving instead to be broken in by the man in the other room, especially after the damage you’ve done today. The loss of your vision will have to be punishment enough for the time being. 

“Does he want me to undress too?” You ask, touching the silk over your eyes, you're completely blind and already longing for the next step. 

“No he wishes to save that pleasure for himself.”

You smirk thinking he might, you’ve been wearing his gift all day it’s only right that he gets to see it first.  

There’s a knock and a click of the door before Seokjin takes you in hand again, leading you in. The air is warmer and heavier than that of the living room, making it impossible to draw a fresh breath. 

Seokjin pushes down on your shoulder, a wordless order to kneel. The plush carpet meeting your knees as you lower yourself, if only you could reach out to get a better sense of what’s in front of you, but form dictates that you keep your hands on your lap. 

The bedroom door closes, signalling Seokjin's departure. Sending one last wave of clean air before you're smothered once again. Locked away for the night with your master and his new pet. There’s a small creek from the mattress and the familiar rattle of restraints against the bedpost. You can just barely make out the tone of Namjoon’s low whisper as he speaks to the current tenant of the bed. 

Footsteps land to your left, muffled by the wall to wall but still sending vibrations through the floor.  As Namjoon approaches, your heart pounds wondering what his first move against you will be. He takes his sweet time letting the anticipation build as your chest continues to heave in its attempts to take in the thick air. You keep your posture, maintaining your stance with the knowledge that he will inspect you. Head lowered, hands on thighs, perched on your toes as your knees dig into the ground. Your legs soon start to tremble as your feet strain to bear the weight.

Namjoon settles right in front of you, the slow draw of his breath reaches your ears, while the heat of his exhale hits your face. A hand trails up the outside of your thigh stilling the tremor in your legs with a forceful grip. You freeze wondering if your jitters will cost you, you can’t let him find fault not if you want him to reward you with his presence. 

But as he takes your chin tightly between his index and his thumb, you know you're in the clear. He tilts your head up as you breathe a sigh of relief. “Such a good girl, setting the perfect example.” His fingers slide down petting the column of your throat with a firm touch. “I was so happy to receive your picture this morning, did you wear the gift all day as ordered?”

“Yes sir.” You pant back, eager for him to see for himself. 

“It wasn’t too hard for you then, to go so long in such a confined state?”

“No sir.”

“Good girl,” He purrs in your ear as he starts unfastening your shirt. He hesitates on the buttons for a moment. “Babygirl, would you care to tell me why you're wearing a men’s shirt?”

You swallow not wanting to admit that it’s the fault of the man currently lying in his bed. You plan to take the fall, wanting Namjoon’s undivided attention even if it’s in the form of a punishment. “I spilled something on mine sir.”  

“So clumsy.” He has the shirt completely off now revealing the corset for him and likely Taehyung to see. Namjoon helps you to stand, unzipping your skirt he pushes it to the floor. You feel so helpless without your sight but Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind assisting. He uses the soft fabric of the shirt to dab at the sweat beading on your skin. “Who, may I ask, clothed you in theirs? Such an expensive label, he must think highly of you.”

You shift in place, made uncomfortable by your inability to answer. Knowing if you say his name thoughts of him will be summoned to your mind. You don’t deserve to think of him at such a time, not after you led him on and left him dry.

“You don’t wish to tell me?” The feel of Namjoon’s breath leaves you, the sounds of his feet  indicating he’s moved to the right of you. Heading to a space you know to be occupied by a table and closet full of his tools. There’s a scrap of metal and what sounds like the jingle of buckles. 

“No sir.”

“And why is that?” Fingers trail up your arm as Namjoon signals his return to your side. 

“Because I’m not allowed to have him sir.”

“A noble response.” Namjoon reasons while he wraps the leather strap of a familiar collar around your neck. “But I still plan to get that name from you before we’re done.” He buckles it swiftly checking the tightness with two fingers. You thought him finished but he progresses to cuff your wrists in leather too, tethering them together in front of you. 

He leans in again with a hushed request, “Still know your safe word?” You nod repeating is back to him before he leads you on towards the bed. 

Namjoon stands behind you as he presents you to his new pet. When you gave Taehyung Namjoon’s number you hadn’t been expecting this but you can’t deny enjoying the prospect. But you find the silence and lack of reaction from him unnerving. “I asked him not to make a sound,” Namjoon explains, “And he’s abiding by my rules so well it’s he?” 

Namjoon takes your hands helping you to feel the current state in which Taehyung is interned. A Leather cuff just like yours binds one of his wrists with a short chain leading to bedpost. You imagine that his other limbs are restricted to the other corners of the bed, for Namjoon has bound you in the same state before. 

“Can he see?” You ask Namjoon wondering if he has been left blind too, or if he’s eyes are watching you now.

“Can he see you? He can babygirl, in fact, he hasn’t looked away once, and why would he?” Namjoon sits you down on the large bed to join Taehyung before pulling down the matching underwear to your corset. “They’re so wet, have you been soaking these all day?” 

You nod in response. A delighted Namjoon makes an offer to Taehyung. “Would you like a taste pet? A reward for being so good.” Namjoon revels in his situation with a chuckle, the man beneath you must have nodded. “Then open up.” You know what a taste means for Namjoon, those panties of yours are most certainly shoved into Taehyung's mouth. He lets out a groan of satisfaction at the welcome intrusion.

Namjoon’s hands find your waist dragging you up further on to the bed with your knees now resting on the mattress. “You’re going to straddle him for me babygirl.” He shifts you over pulling up one of your legs to settle them on either side of the man beneath you. Your knees bent with your calves coming to rest against his bare hips. Without his billowy clothes he is far more slight than you expected, but his skin feels firm and toned. 

You slowly move to lower yourself knowing what you will come down on top of as you sit, but Namjoon seems to have other plans in mind. He takes your bound wrist, lifting them above your head and latching the cuffs to a chain in the rafters of the canopy bed. Once fixed in place he tests your limitations, a quick tug to show you even with your arms fully extended you are only able to lower yourself to half a kneel. You groan in frustration with the realization you can’t move any closer to the cock that rests below you. It’s just as he promised, hung like forbidden fruit above another man. Your dominant’s flare for the poetic never failing to surprise you.

“Problem babygirl?” Namjoon cooes in your ear. “Do you have something you want to say?”

“No sir.”

“Good, because if I recall you still need to be punished for your lack of formality on the phone earlier today.” 

Your stomach drops as you realize he’s going to discipline you right now, in full view of Taehyung. The heat rises to your face at the thought of being demeaned in front of another. Namjoon’s hand cups your bare ass, readying it for the assault. “You failed to call me sir twice, three for each lapse should do it.”

While the first strike eases you in, those that follow are not so gentle. The ring of his index biting your flesh with each impact. The third strike is so strong you pivot forward on your knees, your back arching as you bare forward still confined to the corset and chains. The weight of your body pulls painfully on your shoulders for a brief second, but Namjoon is there to catch you. Stopping you before you can slip and more, and propping you back in place before continuing. 

One hand lays firmly on your stomach to prevent the shift from happening again, while the other rubs the curve of your ass mapping where he should strike next. You can feel the warmth in your skin as the blood rises to the surface in reaction to his beating. Your nerves are caught in the struggle between pain and pleasure, even as the sixth and final blow lands. 

“Good girl.” Namjoon whispers his touch disappearing, as you ease down against your restraints. You hang completely by your wrists while your legs quake from the shock. Every nerve in your body feels as though it’s been left on fire with nothing to quench the flames. Leaving you to hang there for what seems like eternity.

“Sir?” You whisper in the dark as the heat continues to build inside you. Wondering where he has gone your body reacts, begging for the return of his attention with a dripping cunt. And with Taehyung below that can only mean the steady drip of your arousal is left to fall on him.

“Babygirl you’re making such a mess.” Namjoon confirms along with a groan from the man beneath you. “But he appears to be leaking too. Do you want some?” You nod eager for a taste. 

Namjoon obliges, grabbing your throat in one hand, he presses a damp finger to your lips for you to take. Your mouth latches over the offered digit, allowing the bitter fluid to sweep over your tongue. You're forced to let it sit there unable to swallow as the grip on your throat tightens, with the strap of the collar digging into your skin. Your mouth fills with saliva prompting you to close it despite your desperate need for air. 

“Does he taste good?” Namjoon wickedly possesses knowing you can barely even nod. It’s when you start to tremble that he finally releases your airway. 

You swallow quickly before letting your mouth hang open in a pant. With your lungs still restricted by the corset your breathing comes in short shuddering waves. “Yes sir, so good.”

“I think he likes having you drench him, shall we give him more?”

“Please.” You beg but Namjoon suddenly delivers a staggering blow to your backside, indicating your misstep. You’re left gasping from the sudden impact, swinging in the restraints as you try to recoil. “Please sir.” Your plea comes again this time with the proper decorum.  

There’s a crinkle of what sounds like a condom wrapper as Namjoon readies himself behind you. His fingers damp with lubrication find your back entrance, your tight hole giving way to a single finger. “You’ve been training for me like I asked?”

“Yes sir.” You almost come at the thought of it along with pleasure with the swirling digit. You’ve dabbled in anal before testing out a few toys, but a few weeks ago he sent you a plug with a tapered t-shaped end, giving you strict orders to wear it to work the following day. Unfortunately that was the date you had scheduled a meeting with your whole team. You were a flustered mess as you fought through your presentation, Jimin’s presence by your side making it so much more difficult to maintain control of your arousal . But the full day of public and torturous stimulation was worth it, for the reward that night was a call from Namjoon. His orders led you through every action of self pleasure.  Telling you when and where to touch before finally directing you to come. You’ve used the item several times on your own since, knowing your practice would help you in this moment. You wanted to make Namjoon proud and take him with little resistance. That desire now intensified with having Taehyung as an audience.

“Then you're ready to take me in front of him?” 

You nod gripping chains of the restraints as Namjoon eases into you. “Just relax.” His hands glide down your shoulders and back, coming to rest splayed across your hips, the tips of his finger root under the corset and dig into your stomach. Your grip eases as you lean back into him. “That’s it.” He mutters quietly as you stretch to accommodate him. “Good girl.”

After taking a few inches Namjoon pushes down on the front of your corset bowing the metal latches back to so they release, with a few clicks and swift presses the garment is off allowing you to breathe deeper than you have all day. 

“God you should see him babygirl, he’s so ruined by the sight of you. You have him panting for you.” You wish you could curse Namjoon for his choice to blindfold you and silence Taehyung, you would take any punishment that came of it, but all you can muster is a gasp while he continues to fill you more. “I wonder how he’ll react,” One of Namjoon’s hands leaves your hips coming to rest with something soft against your aching clit. “When he sees you come.” With a click the object vibrates, throwing you back completely onto Namjoons cock from the shock.

You catch Namjoon’s lustful groan between your cries. He starts to thrust inside of you one hand gripping your chest while the other holds the vibrate down in place despite your bucking hips. It doesn’t take long for you to completely fold. As the heat inside you finally reaches its peak you shatter, your head falling back on Namjoon’s shoulder as you convulse and moan. With nothing for your cunt to clench your legs grip the trussed man between them. He too lets out a sinful groan as the fluids from your fold continue to drip down your legs meet his adjoining skin. 

Namjoon turns the device off and slips out, the bed shifts as he moves in front of you. When his hand cups your face you lean into his touch. “You okay?”

You nod hoping he’ll be lenient with your lack of speech. You hear him whisper as he checks in with Taehyung too. “I’m going to take these now.” Namjoon must finally be freeing him from the waded underwear of yours.

Namjoon’s hands find you again, playing with the arousal dripping down your legs as he drags his fingers up to the source. A finger grazes your folds slipping between without penetrating. You pull desperately against your restraints hoping that it might find its way inside.  

“So are you going to tell me who you’re not allowed to have?” Namjoon asks again. “Or do I have to let you hang here all night?” 

“My secretary...” You give in with a  whisper, hoping that Taehyung won’t hear.

“And what’s his name? Say it and I’ll give you what you want.” 

The deal is too good for you to resist, you last only a couple more seconds before finally giving in. Crying out, “Jimin,” as two of Namjoon’s fingers breach you. Your sopping slit squelching as he curls his fingers. 

“There it is.” Namjoon sighs, his other hand brushing your cheek. “Is he the reason you’re so worked up tonight babygirl?”

“Y-yes sir.” You stutter as his fingers continue. He gives you another minute of bliss before removing his digits. 

“You’re going to do something for me, okay?” Namjoon asks. You nod as he continues to hold your face. “That man between your legs, you are going to fuck him and imagine Jimin as you do so, is that clear?” 

“Yes sir.”

“Is that okay with you pet?” He asks the other occupant, who still remains silent with his answers. The sound of another condom wrapper, comes as your confirmation.  Taehyung lets out an unexpected high pitched whine, likely due to the pressure that comes with the latex being rubbed down his shaft. You’re already so invested in the lie that he’s even starting to sound like Jimin. 

Namjoon is once again behind you. You can hear the rattle of the length of chain that holds you up and as he sinks back into you, his cock slipping in far easier this time, your body gladly welcomes the fullness of his intrusion.  He then lowers you inch by inch, with little strength left in your legs you are relying only on the restraints and Namjoon to hold you up. After gaining a bit more freedom you can feel the tip of a cock brushing up against you. Namjoon’s arm comes to rest on your thigh as he lines the erection up for you to take it inside. It’s a slow descent, as you stretch to accommodate both of them. Your thankful Namjoon’s mercy for easing you down gradually. 

When you bottom out Namjoon pulls the chain down from the rafters he releases the length from your cuffs, but rather than discarding it he attaches it to your collar, tugging on it as if it’s a leash. Though your hands are still bound together you have the freedom to rest them on the man laying down in front of you. You take pleasure in dragging the tips of your fingers across his skin, feeling his abs flex and his cock twitch inside you as you do so. 

Namjoon starts to thrust, keeping a close hold on your collar. While he pushes you are sent up and down on what you desperately want to be Jimin’s thick cock. After a few thrusts you are shoved forward entirely by Namjoon, colliding with the man beneath you. Your chest is pushed into his, as your bound hands are pinned between the two of you. While your head is left to rest on his shoulder, the tip of your nose is able to graze his neck. As you breathe in your mind continues to play tricks, the smell coming off him mimics that of the cologne your secretary wears, rather than the scent of Taehyung. 

Namjoon must have unbound his legs as they bend up to cradle your own from behind his hips bucking into yours, with both men taking you at a steady pace.

You move in closer to his neck, with a lick you taste the salt of his skin showing  your intentions. Biting down on the spot, you suck in deeply as your teeth dig in even harder. The carnal groans you receive from him sending shivers to your spine. There’s the sound of a soft slap, Namjoon didn’t hit you, but the man beneath you returns to his ordered silence.

Namjoon thrusts even harder, pushing you into his chest repeatedly. The thought of being fucked into Jimin’s embrace is too much to bear. Your cunt clenches as you continue envisioning your secretary, and how you're grinding your clit against his pelvis. 

You cry out over the swelling girths inside you, knowing their both likely to come soon. Clenching down one last time you dissolve in the pleasure and contentment. Namjoon finishes first remaining inside while his pet comes too. He leaves you there laying upon your imagined Jimin, in your daze  you can barely move let alone focus on reality. With a wave of exhaustion you start to slip from consciousness, but not before one last praise reaches your ears. Your delirium grants you the satisfaction of hearing the voice of Jimin whisper, “Good girl.”

...

You can’t remember the last time you slept so well. You woke early to find Namjoon had taken care of you in the night, he released your wrist cuffs, and removed your blindfold, after you had passed out from the physical exertion. The only restraint to remain was your collar which he asked you to wear today. Taehyung was sadly already gone, but you can’t deny it was nice to have Namjoon to yourself before you left. 

Now as you head off to work, showered and freshly dressed, with a turtleneck hiding your gift, you check your phone for the first time. Finding a string of apologetic messages sent from Jimin in the early hours of the morning. You reply apologizing too and asking to revisit the subject as soon as you get into work. Thankfully he agrees, the smiling emoji he ends his text on sends a wave of relief through you.

You step in the front entrance of your building ready to handle and objectively listen to Jimin’s thoughts and concerns. While you wait for the elevator your phone vibrates listing a call from an unknown number. “Hello?”

“Hey it’s Taehyung. Hope you don’t mind, I stole your personal number from my father.”

“Taehyung...” Heat starts to rise in your face at the thought of last night. The elevator arrives and you quickly step in. “No, not at all, to what do I owe the honour of this call.”

“No need to be so formal,” He giggles at you.

“Sorry, habit,” You respond. “What can I do for you?” 

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday...” Taehyung starts off. 

But his words are soon interrupted by someone shouting, “Hold the door.” You comply, pushing the button to keep them open, while trying to keep your focus on your conversation with Taehyung.

“...It’s not often that I meet someone who I can be so open with. I called the man you recommended and I’ve scheduled my first session with him tomorrow.”  

You freeze, unable to fully comprehend what he’s saying, surely he misspoke. It can’t be his first session. “W-what do you mean your first session is tomorrow? You were there-” The collar hidden beneath your turtleneck feels as though it’s tightening around your throat. “Last night, I saw you-” The line goes dead as the elevator closes and starts to ascend. It was Taehyung in the bed with you and Namjoon last night. You saw... nothing you saw nothing because of the blindfolded that you were asked to wear.

“Everything okay?” You jump at the sound of the other voice, forgetting that some else had gotten into the elevator. Looking up you find Jimin there beaming at you, his head tilted from his query.

“Namjoon,” You flutter with your phone, too panicked to even greet your secretary properly. “I need to call Namjoon.” But the line won’t connect, not with you in the elevator. “Fuck...” You try again your patience not willing to wait the minute it’ll take to disembark on your floor.  

You are almost there when the elevator shudders and stops. The sudden halt sends you off balance, but Jimin’s there to grab hold of you before you can fall. You thank him before stepping back and putting a bit of distance between the two of you again.

Jimin turns his attention to the panel, pushing the call button, he waits for someone to answer, but the call remains silent. 

While he continues in his attempt to make contact, every scene of the night before floods back to your memory as you try to piece everything together. It was Taehyung, it had to be. He must just be playing a stupid joke. He was surely going to shout ‘gotcha’ before the phone disconnected, but you won’t know for certain until someone can get you off this blasted lift. You sink to the floor and Jimin follows, unable to reach anyone on the outside. 

Despite your best efforts to rationalize what happened, your panicked breaths fail to slow, Spots start appearing in your vision as the elevator sways around you. Your breakfast threatens to make another appearance on the polished marble floor. 

“It’ll be fine. Someone will notice soon.” Jimin attempts to comfort you but even that won’t quash the fear raging inside you.

“It’s not just that...” You whisper. “Something happened last night. I need to call Namjoon, I need to figure out...” Who was actually in that bed with you. Your confusion and panic break free sending you into a fit of tears as you hug your knees to your chest.

“Hush, it’s okay.” Jimin readjusts, moving in front of you and taking your hands in his. He leans towards you as he whispers in your ear. “Don’t cry babygirl.”

Your eyes snap to look at Jimin in alarm. Your prior worries are nothing compared to the terror which takes hold now. “H-how do you know that name?” Your stuttered words barely make their way past your lips.

“I think you know the answer to that question.” He pulls at the collar of his shirt allowing you to spot a large red mark on his neck, right where you had bitten the man you once thought to be Taehyung. “I wanted to wait a bit longer, I wanted more moments like we had last night but it would seem that someone had to go and ruin it.” You pull back but Jimin’s hands shift to take hold of your wrists, mimicking the manacles that embraced you the night before. “Are you not happy babygirl? You got your wish. And I... I got what I’ve always wanted.”

“This is so wrong Jimin! You knew I thought you were someone else! You knew that I wouldn’t have done that last night if I knew the truth.” 

“Even though I was the one you really wanted babygirl?”

“Stop calling me that! Just because of what happened last night does not make me yours. You lied to Namjoon. You said that I sent you. You told him you were Taehyung!”

Jimin gives a wicked laugh in response to your accusations. “Oh, but you are mine. Namjoon is the one who’s been keeping things from you. He’s been in my employ far longer than yours.” He coos as his fingers tighten their grip on you. “I was the reason you were introduced to him, and I was the one who bestowed you with that name shortly after.”

“No, that’s not possible, Namjoon and I, we met at a charity event.”

“Hosted by my father. Where I told him to make himself known to you, to entice you to become one of his pets. I may have acted the sub last night but I am the one who holds Namjoon’s reins, I always have.”

“No he would never do that! He’s considerate and-”

“Had so much to gain by dominating you on my behalf. Money, power, and an assurance of safety, he would’ve been a fool to turn my offer down. Especially since you were so willing to play along with him. I dare say he enjoyed his time with you, but I was the one who permitted him to touch you. I was there to listen, to read, and to direct every conversation. Those gifts he told you to wear to the office, they were all from me.” He lets go of one of your wrists to pull down the neck of your shirt. Revealing the leather band strapped around your neck. “Today it’s the collar, yesterday it was the corset, and a few weeks ago...” Jimin smirks as he recalls the memory to your mind. “You barely made it through that meeting thanks to my gift.”

  It’s impossible to swallow the admissions coming from him, but regardless of what may be true or false, you won’t stand for any of it. “You’ve had your fun, but this ends now.” You reach up attempting to remove the collar but Jimin pushes you to the floor pinning your arms above you as he straddles you. The elevator wavers from the struggle, teetering as you lay captive beneath him. 

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’ve placed yourself in. I hold in my possession your darkest secrets. One’s that will ruin you if they make their way out. Your illegal activity with a sex worker, your inappropriate sexual conduct with your secretary. Not to mention the names and dubious activities of every client you’ve recommended to Namjoon’s services.”  

“Why... why are you doing this?” 

“Because you found me. I worked so hard to exploit my father from the outside, getting everything I wanted without the threat of public exposure. I couldn’t let you ruin it all. When we first met I considered you a threat, but then I saw how easy and enjoyable it was to mould to my will. The more intimate you become with someone the more power you give them over you. Simply being your secretary isn’t enough, not if I want you in a more pliable state.” Jimin hushed whisper mixes with a haunting giggle as his lips come to your ear. “I plan to bend you to fit every one of my needs.”

“You’re psychotic!” You lash out trying to throw him off but he stems your revolt by planting himself further down on to you, sitting on your chest as the elevator sways.

“Psychotic? No, I am simply a man who found his passion amidst his revenge. I know what I desire, and vengeance has taught me how best to take it. So if you want to keep yourself and everything else around you from falling, I suggest you play along like a good girl. Or I promise you, my punishments won’t be as kind as what you’ve experienced before.”

“What is it that you want?” You ask, already fearing his answer. He has you trapped in a gilded cage with him, where one misstep will send you plummeting to meet your end. Nothing that comes accompanied by such threats can be palatable.

“At work? To keep the status quo, I’ll remain your secretary, only so I can keep a better hold on you.” 

“Hoseok won’t agree to that. He already thinks I should ditch you. I should have listened to him.” 

“Then you will make him agree or he might have an accident, much like your accountant did. He too thought we were too close, even threatened to say something. Don’t worry I saved us from him, just as I’ll save us from Hoseok if you can’t convince him to back off. Do you think you can get him to agree now?”

You give a solemn nod, with Hoseok on the line you have no choice.

“After hours, we’ll drop the middleman.” Jimin lowers himself further on to you, laying down on top, his weight flattening you to the floor. With his head coming to rest on your restrained arm as he whispers further plans. “Every night you’ll come to me instead, and every morning you’ll have a new gift to wear. When we step off this elevator you’ll act as if nothing is wrong. You will go about business as usual, is that clear babygirl?”

You stifle a sob staring directly up and away from his eyes, not daring to give him the satisfaction of your fear. With little else to cling to, all you can do is agree for the time being, as much as it pains you, you choke out your compliance. “Yes...” 

“Yes what?” Jimin purrs, his lips faintly touching your ear. “Address me properly, or I will find ways to discipline you right here on this lift.” His fingers tighten and nails bite into your skin.

“Yes sir,” you whine as a plea for him to stop. 

Jimin mercifully lessens his hold on your wrists, hitting you instead with a smirk and befouled praise. “Good girl. I knew you’d finally see that I’m worth the risk.”

...

[flowerwrites06]

blossoms and blood I — jjk

Plot: Two lovers are ripped apart in the name of duty. 

Pairing(s): Prince/King!Jungkook x Princess/Queen!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 6k

Genre: Royal | Angst | Smut 

Tags & Warnings: violence, angst, explicit smut, blood

Authors Note: I know a couple of you wanted this so I hope you like!

In a world where peach blossoms grow and blood runs through the sandstone walls, monarchs of a young kingdom rode through dewy plains to reach their partner regions’ territory in order for a momentous and happy reunion after a hefty battle. Belle opted to sit on the back of the horse during most of the ride, light pink veil hovering over her and flowing into the soft spring breeze, an extra piece covering most of her face except her eyes. The king and queen as per usual preferred the chariot as a more comfortable transport for napping but the girl could not find herself relaxed enough to sleep.

Months passed since she was able to see him in person again. Nothing but handwritten letters with pressed roses and cedar wood scent from their stationery shared between them. Now that the small parade drew closer to their destination, her heart continued to do leaps like a performer in a banquet.

“How far along, Namjoon?” Belle asked unsure of how much she could take the tension building.

A smirk immediately graced the mans’ lips, tiny little craters appearing on his cheek. “We’re at the gates, your Highness.”

Tingles rushed through her entire form as she saw the majestic red gates getting closer and closer making her feel suffocated. She could hear his voice forming the words on his letters so clearly in her mind that dizziness started to swirl. All the things he wanted to say in person…all the things he wanted to do but could never write on letters which were possibly being read during commute for security.

What if he was the complete opposite in real life? What if he didn’t even write the letters himself and Belle just lived in a fantasy shared with a scribe? What if he did like her but grew disappointed with her in real life?

“I can see the smoke coming out of your ears.” Namjoon teased, pulling the princess back to her reality.

Her horse seemed to already catch the hint by moving forward as the gates opened seeing the familiar flags and banners. “I can’t help it.” Belle whispered trying to keep the conversation to themselves as they slowly entered the age old kingdom. “We haven’t seen each other in months, he could’ve taken in a concubine by now.”

The older male chuckled, watching all the people staring in awe at the ethereal veiled princess riding in. “I think you place Jungkook a little too closely with the other princes.” His gaze was more focused on everything around him knowing there had to be extra care when Belle chose to be exposed in the open like this.

“It’s hard not to right now.” Her eyes moved to the majestic gates of the palace thudding open in front of them.

“Mommy, it’s a fairy!” A toddler resting on a womans’ shoulder pointed to her just as they left the towns.

Belle couldn’t help but smile and give the little one a small wave before she disappeared into the main palace courtyard.

Across the sandstone path adorned with small rose bushes stood a great flight of stairs leading up to the a line of three thrones. Except all the royals stood for their allies; the king in the middle with his golden crown, queen on his left and young prince on his right. Each figure exuding an aura of ultimate ancient power even in front of their equals. Though her gaze had fixated mostly on the male standing leftward of the king. Prince Jungkook.

Brunette fringe just a tad lower than his eyebrows, silver earrings twinkling in the sunlight and a faint smirk already visible even from a distance.

Their horses were halted just at the end of the first line of stairs. Namjoon got off his horse as Belle moved her leg so they both hung on one side. If she had her proper horse riding attire, it would have taken seconds to get off but with forty layers of fabric made the simple task tedious. So as per any other public event Namjoon securely held onto her waist and helped her down on the ground.

Jungkooks fingers twitched a little seeing the princess’ guard hold onto her. Of course he knew only the guard was truly ever allowed to touch her in times of need. Princesses could never be touched for pleasure or claim unless a marriage proposal was finalized. His smirk widened a little too much knowing that rule was already a little broken unbeknownst to both their parents.

Days leading up to his time in battle, the young couple grew impatient and weary of the results. Whether Jungkook would come back or if Belle would be married off to some other prince for extra protection. Of course both things were not entirely under their control except for their own secretive desires. Eventually it led to one long night of breaking a few little rules as they explored each other and gently ripped the layer of innocence dividing them.

Belle’s parents were the first to begin walking up the stairs to the space in between where Jungkooks parents also proceeded to walk down in order to meet halfway. A usual custom to symbolize equality amongst the two kingdoms.

“My congrats on the victory, King Jeon.” Belle’s father gave his ally a bright but formal smile which was received in the same enthusiasm.

She tried to focus on the elders and their conversation but her eyes flickered over to a pair of round orbs staring right at her. Quickly the girl lowered her gaze before focusing on their parents not able to stop her cheeks from burning.

“If it weren’t for your troops, my son would not have been standing here with me. I should be thanking you for giving aid.” King Jeon patted the young princes’ back making him smile politely. “Our kingdoms were meant to be joined as one to fight against the Sun Queen.”

More words were muffled as Jungkook brought his gaze back to the heavily covered princess. He could still mentally trace out her beautiful lips always curled up in a smile and her adorable nose that twitched when she was teasing him about something. His hands yearned to pull away her veil and just catch a seconds glimpse of her face but he had to keep a formal demeanor.

Sun peeked through clouds and her face glowed even under the pink veil while the two kings embraced one another with a light laugh under their breath.

“I hope you’re not too tired from your journey we’ve prepared a small banquet for your liking.” King Jeon smiled before glancing over at Belle who Jungkook could notice her eyes squinting into a gorgeous smile.

The young prince almost let out a sigh of awe looking at how her eyes brightened while gracefully nodding her head in acknowledgement.

“Jungkook will escort you to your chambers.” He glanced over at his son.

Immediately he could feel a flutter in his heart, a more genuine smile tugging at his lips as he met the princess’ gaze again. “Of course.”

-

Down the golden hallways the prince opened the door for the king and queen into their temporary chambers, giving them a kind smile as they were fully acquainted. He struggled to keep a sense of formality whenever any of their parents’ were around knowing a relationship between their children was not exactly the goal. Most traditional alliances did rely on marriages but this rare time, they opted to ‘save’ their children for expansion purposes to the other kingdoms so they could build to a big enough land against the Sun Queen.

Wrong tradition at the wrong time, Jungkook thought. One of the rare occasions where two children from ally kingdoms actually love each other but the kingdoms don’t want an arranged marriage. His eyes now moved onto Belle and his heart almost skipped a beat for a second realizing they were finally both alone. “This way, your Highness.” He gestured down to his left and the princess walked, holding all the grace in the world in each movement. “How was your journey?” Jungkook tried to keep a formal tone while they walked as slowly as possible to her chambers.

“It was lovely, the forest leading up to the palace is so beautiful. I insisted on riding outside of the chariot. Except now I’m aching a little.” Belle giggled under her breath, feeling the light cramping on her inner thighs from having sit on the horse for so long. “So did you forget about me?” She moved straight to the point now that they were in a rare lonesome with no one to bother them.

“Not the best at memory.” Jungkook shrugged playfully. “Even at the war grounds, I only had to remember who wasn’t going to kill me and the pros—” He cleared his throat immediately.

Belle rolled her eyes a little even though her heart dropped realizing a lot of prostitutes must have been present in the war camps. She should not be surprised if plenty wanted to please the prince himself during his time of need but it wasn’t surprise that clenched her chest.

“The ladies in waiting will be here in a few minutes.” Jungkook muttered as Belle walked through the doors of her chambers. Before he could take a step back, something held onto his hand pulling him inside.

Silence plunged between the young couple as the prince closed the door behind him not needing any sort of explanation. It was a dance they got used to in the years they stood under the same roof. Something burst inside him in seconds as he turned her around and pulled off her sunhat. Without another thought, his lips pressed against the soft fabric of her mask making her giggle at his impatience.

“You’re a very friendly host, your Highness.” She teasing smiling as he continued to peck her covered lips.

“Don’t play with me it’s been too long.” He growled lightly through his words, hands caressing the curve of her waist to her hips.

“What about your prostitutes? Seems like you had help during that long time.” She pouted a little slithering away from him. “Did you write the letters sent to me?”

Jungkook held onto the fabric of her dress and continued to walk closer so there was no distance between them. “I wrote them after training. If it were a scribe, the handwriting would be a hundred times better.”

“And a lot of the words wouldn’t be smudged.” Belle smiled knowing the little details that easily showed that an experienced scribe would not have written their sacred document. “So all those things you said…”

“Every word I meant.” He murmured, their faces now a breath apart. His fingers hovered over her mask stopping himself from just ripping it off like the poor sunhat lain on the floor. “I’d be a fool to accept them when I have a princess waiting for me.” Jungkook fixated on the way her lips curled up into smile through the slightly transparent cloth. “Let me see you.” He whispered nudging his nose against her covered one.

Belle rubbed his clothed chest softly wanting to tease him a little more just to feel the heat radiating from him grow stronger. But she grew just as impatient as him at this point. “Take it off.” Sparkling eyes searched his expression before watching his cute lips curl up into a toothy smirk.

His hands slid up from her hips, hovered ever so slightly over her breasts before moving behind her hair and untied the knot. Pulling off the cloth his breath caught in his throat for a moment seeing finally being able to see her pink tinted lips again. It shouldn’t be healthy how he was so infatuated by her whole being that it ached in his chest a little.

“Disappointed?” She grinned, tracing a finger down his neck.

“In love.” He whispered brushing away the wispy strands of her hair that flew to her face after he took off her mask. Not another second wasted, Jungkook held onto her cheeks and pressed a warm kiss on her lips, tongue desperately pushing through her teeth to explore every inch of her mouth.

Belle almost could not gather herself feeling a burning behind his eyes at his words before the familiar warmth on her lips. Knees grew weak at the flurry of emotions that she almost lost balance but Jungkook had a firm grip around her waist. Few stumbling steps and the prince carried her to the edge of the bed before letting her fall on her back. A light squeal followed by the tiniest giggle, her fingers gripped Jungkooks’ clothing as he hovered over her, lips locked once again in a heated synced pattern.

He pushed the thick layers of her dress up until his rough fingers were graced with her soft slightly cool skin, body tingling at the familiar feeling.

Most of her dress rested right up on Belle’s chest as she relished in his hands lightly revisiting her body after so many of being untouched. Just as her lips parted to let a small moan flow out, Jungkook caught them between his again taking every miniscule remnant of the memory of her, he could salvage in the time they were together.

“Is it sore here?” He asked watching her suck in her plump bottom lip when his fingers softly massaged her bare inner thighs.

Belle nodded, letting out a shaky breath as she gripped at his clothes. Her core pooled at the lightest brush attempting to make out any words to let him know just how much she craved even a second’s touch.

Four knocks on the door shattered their wall of privacy, a meek voice speaking through the wood. “Princess, we’re here to tend to you.”

Jungkook groaned against her lips, nails digging slightly into her thighs before reluctantly pulling away.

Smiling faintly, she pressed a quick kiss on his cheek before making herself decent while trying to catch her breath. “Come in!” Belle bit down her bottom lip to hide any wide grin that was escaping.

The door opened to a line of women in white rushing inside with large bowls, clothing and trunks to get ready for the banquet tonight. Immediately the group bowed down to the two young royals before Jungkook gave a quick smirk to the beautiful princess, walking out of the room and awaiting the next rare time he would be alone with his favourite person.

-

Red drapes adorned the sandstone walls, golden light reflected against the silk and admired Jungkooks’ glowing skin even while wearing a deep blue and black outfit. Both kings sat with their queens whispering stories of another time. His eyes wandered around to find a familiar figure. As expected when the double doors opened, the whole court had to take a moment of silence to see the grace of purple walk into the hall.

Belle wore a beautiful dress, hair tied up half way with twinkling accessories glimmering in the light like her earring and necklace. Beauty completely radiated onto the eyes of the amazed court. Though Jungkook knew in the deep night who got the blessing of seeing her at her purest, rawest form in a time of day when no one knows what’s happening behind closed doors.

Expression softened watching her smile graced her ethereal features as she padded towards the large tables and gave their parents a bow. One cheeky glance towards Jungkook had his heart skipping five beats before she walked off to entertain a few nobles.

It was like a hand popping out of his chest trying to pull the girl towards him instead of the nobles who could never appreciate her for who she was. All they saw was a pretty princess ready to be married off to the most eligible bachelor. He could see the light bruises she hid on her thighs from horse riding all day and the fading scars on her hand from swinging a sword for hours in the night. That was the part no one could see. Some of them didn’t want to see. A future ruler with a stone fist and warm heart.

Eventually Jungkook was also forced to slither into the crowd of high brows mingling into conversations and possible marriage proposals. As he was trained for so many years, a smile and maybe a little laugh if jokes were thrown around. It had all become a redundant pattern of climbing the golden ladder to ultimate power. Unfortunately the key to all that power had his gaze set on one particular princess who seemed to call out to him with her eyes.

He noticed the girl excuse herself from the crowd before giving him a look he could recognize from kingdoms away.

“Excuse me, ladies.” Jungkook grinned, giving them a slight bow before walking out of the warm huddle and into the cool air of something more exciting.

Down the beautifully lit hallway he watched her walk with a skip in her step and a cheeky smile on her face purposely not waiting for him to catch up. Jungkook felt a surge of nostalgia, when the walls felt much taller and they would chase each other around the palace until finally one of them were pinned against the wall. As they got older, other things would happen once the person was caught.

She wanted to play a game. More teasing to remind him of just exactly what he missed in his time during the battle. All the nights in the tent after refusing the third round of lightly clothed ladies, he would re-read her letters over and over again until he had to take care of himself just to sleep somewhat at ease.

Belle’s giggles echoed through the hallways as she turned a corner not forgetting to give him a grin brighter than all the candles tonight. Once the girl disappeared, the young prince stepped into a jog not wanting to miss a single second of his favourite view in the world.

Her heart pounded against her ribcages in the best way possible knowing Jungkook was following her every step and movement. The rush of it all could have her quaking in her knees but she continued to move. Excitement flurried out of her in light giggles and heavy breathing not knowing how to contain herself now that the game started.

Quickly Belle shifted into a line of pillars to hide for a moment. Jeweled chest rose and fell, a smile tugging at her lips so wide her cheeks ached a little. When her bearing became clearer she tried to focus on the footsteps but heard no sound. Smile fading away ever so slightly, the princess took a few strides to slide out of the pillar peeking through the hallways but finding them empty.

Brows furrowed she walked backwards trying to slide back into her position and her heart jumped, something pulling her back and pinning her against the wall.

“You know I can always catch you.” Jungkook leaned in and whispered, smirk playing on his lips as his hands now secured on her waist to keep her from escaping his clutches. “You’re mine now, princess.”

“What if I let you win?” Belle raised her chin a little. “I was only brisk walking.”

“I could hear your breathing.” Lips hovered over her jawline to her neck feeling the warmth radiating onto his face. “I can recognize your heavy breathing anywhere, princess. That little hitch when you get excited.” Nose nudged against her pounding pulse while her hands slid up his arms. “The way it shakes when you can’t handle all the nerves and your heart pounding.” Jungkook moved back, lips hovering her parted ones now relishing in the tiny shaky sighs coming out of them.

Belle tapped her nose against his, feeling her breathing grow ragged once again as his hands on her waist shot sparks right up to her head making it hard to focus on anything. “Seems you know a lot about me, my prince.” She murmured. “You know what your telling point is? Your eyes…” Her arms wrapped his neck. “It goes all round and doe when you’re happy.” She giggled softly but it quickly faded away into a small smirk. “Then that dark, blown out look glints…tells me you’re hungry for something.” She whispered before sucking in her bottom lip.

Moving her arms away from his neck, she moved his hands down to the skirt of her dress. Immediately his fingers fisted at the fabric and pulled it up to continue from where they were rudely interrupted earlier in the day.

Jungkook sneaked under the skirt and found his stomach doing a leap when he felt nothing but bare skin underneath. “You wanted to lose, didn’t you, princess?” He grinned.

“Maybe a little.” Belle whispered before gasping lightly when his fingers brushed against her already soaked core.

As soon as her lips parted the prince devoured them as his own, tongue dancing with tongue forgetting about the plain exposure they were in for any guards that patrolled by. They couldn’t care less anymore. It had been too long. Too much distance. Jungkook moved his hands away for a moment to cup her cheeks. One of his riskier fingers hooked at the hem of her sleeves pushing them down to expose more of her shoulder so he could bite into it like his favourite snack.

Wet kisses trailed down to her chest, both hands kneading her tender breasts making Belle’s head spin with light surges of excitement.

Dropping down on his knees for the princess Jungkook pushed the soft fabric up her legs and buried himself under it. Tongue immediately caught throbbing nub between his lips, hands gripping at her bare thighs as her body jerked into his mouth.

Belle raised a leg to rest on the window sill in front of her while her head was thrown back against the rough surface. Moving her dress up, she finally watched Jungkook suckling on her clit as she gripped at his neatly done hair.

Letting go of her sensitive nub with a kiss, he jumped back onto his feet and undid his pants sloppily before the princess helped him out letting out a breathy giggle. Once his member sprung free, arms wrapped around the girl before slowly sliding into her snug walls in wet ease. Both their moans flowed together as Belle wrapped her arms around his neck and both her legs now rested on the window sill while Jungkook held her up.

Biting down a much louder moan, she buried her face into his shoulder as he wasted no time in thrusting into her. Slow, rough and deep wanting to make up for all the lost minutes pining for one another in such a distance under uncontrollable circumstances.

Light groans caught in his throat the heat around them spread like a wildfire. “I missed you.” He whispered in her ear before pressing his lips against her neck.

“I missed you too.” She whimpered out, nails scratching down his clothing as a slight ache mixed in with the pleasure from how rough he was after so long. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

Jungkook pulled away from her now reddened neck so they meet each other’s hazy gaze. He watched her eyes grow glossy while every thrust grew deeper as the cliff they were hurdling came closer. “I’ll never leave you again.” He shook his head before pressing another heated kiss, her light moan vibrating into it.

His thrusts grew brutal now, patches of her bare skin rubbing roughly against the wooden surface of the pillar while her leg aching from the position. But none of it compared to the fire building up in her lower belly getting stronger at every slopping pound into her core, fingers gripping at his hair and clothing. “Jungkook—” She whispered, heaving as her body melted away.

Then that long awaited surge exploded through every inch of their bodies, movements getting sloppier desperate to make it last longer and take whatever was given. Arms tightly held onto each other tightly, warmth added to the flames swirling inside channeling out of their shaking forms.

Light, breathy chuckles shared between them followed by a kiss as Jungkook gently let Belle down on her feet while her knees still trembled.

“I love you.” She smiled as he pressed his forehead against hers, hoping he could feel the weight of those words when it was spoken.

“I love you too.” He kissed her nose lightly feeling his heart grow far too big for his ribcages.

Once they were mostly their decent selves, Jungkook fished through his pockets for a moment they sat on the window sill admiring the night view. Eventually with a light smile he pulled out something that glimmered under the moonlight. A silver ring with a delicate peach blossom designed in the middle. “You like it?”

Belle sat up straight now grinning down at the piece of jewelry. “It’s beautiful.” She murmured. “Where’d you get it?”

The prince shrugged. “I saw it in a market while travelling. I know you like the blossoms in our forests so I thought you might want one to hold onto all the time.” He spoke a slight shyness ringing in his tone that Belle couldn’t help but giggle at. “It’s simple—”

“But it’s my favourite.”

Jungkook chuckled feeling his cheeks burn as he slowly took her hand and slid it onto her ring finger. “Think of it as a promise. No matter where I go or where you go…the blossoms always keep us together.”

“That was a…fine attempt at poetry, my prince.” She giggled.

“I was trying to be like the books.” He pouted mockingly but immediately when the princess leaned to give him warm kiss on the lips.

“I’ll keep it forever.” She knew in her swelling heart that promise would never be broken.

-

A smile had been permanently engraved onto his face after that night even as King Jeon had called him for an urgent meeting. Through the hallways Jungkook could only keep his thoughts on that gorgeous smile and how she so proudly wore the jeweled band around her finger in these couple of days.

Eventually the young prince reached the empty throne room where there were no court members present save for the guards who immediately walked out as they closed the door behind him.

“You called me, father.” Hands behind his back, he watched his parents’ features grow grim even in the comfortable warm light and luxurious clothing. Gaze flickered from his father and mother as they shared a stony glance towards one another before facing their son again.

King Jeon took a breath to speak. “Son, there is another reason why we called our allies here.” He spoke with confidence but care knowing this would be a delicate matter for the young prince. “We have been given evidence that the King and Queen were planning to eradicate us from the throne.”

Elated heart took a steep jump into an endless abyss. “Why?” His tone was meeker than he wanted it to be but he kept his head held high.

“Because if we all perished then they would get all our financial assets and every bit of power that comes with ruling both kingdoms.” King Jeon replied simply. Separately the kingdoms were average especially to the likes of the Sun Queen but combining two would make a decent match. Except of course one would expect power struggles between two monarch who have always had ultimate and unmatchable authority.

Whatever veil of hope he had before his eyes now ripped apart at the news of the betrayal. For months, Jungkook saw death beyond imagining and pain never felt before only to be faced with the possibility of assassination by their own friends. “What about the princess?” He hated how weak his voice sounded but his mother merely gave him a sympathetic look.

“We don’t know what her part is in this yet. So be ready tomorrow.” The queen always knew how to be the soft hand in these discussions but right now nothing was going to reassure him.

The prince trained to protect his kingdom at all costs. He risked his life for months in war grounds to prevent anything bad happening to both their lands. Maybe he could keep Belle safe. She wouldn’t been a part of this mess, she loved the people and keeping them happy was the only thing ever on her mind. He knew this. He would lay down his life for this belief.

Duty came first. Duty always comes first. He was the future king.

“You know what you need to do, don’t you, son?” His father spoke the heaviest question, letting it linger in the air and create a weight on his shoulders.

Of course he knew what to do. What he always had to do.

“Whatever it takes, father.” He recited. A common mantra marked into his brain since childhood.

“Good. Prepare yourself.”

Tightening his jaw and pushing the memory of her beautiful laugh, Jungkook merely bowed and did as he was told.

-

In the cold morning, the allied King and Queen stood at the same area in between the flight of stairs except now Jungkooks’ parents stood near their thrones. Separation. The immediate shatter of their tradition in representing equality. The young prince stood in the middle in his normal stance except no smirk played on his lips. He once again became the solider standing on the blood ridden soil protecting any more pain…by causing pain.

The two figures stood relaxed and happy with bright smiles that hauntingly reminded him of Belle.

“What’s this gathering for, my boy?” The King asked giving him a kind smile.

Taking a deep breath, Jungkook looked over his shoulder and saw his father give him a sturdy but reassuring nod. This was the right thing to do. It had to be done for his people. For the kingdom. ‘I love you’ She smiled through her glossy eyes. The corner of his lips twitched and he heard his father speaking.

“We are deeply saddened to say that you have not been keeping our sacred promise of friendship.” He sighed. “Evidence has been found of you committing a breach of our peace contract in the name of greed…and power. Those are not the values our kingdom was built on.”

“How—” Belle’s mother stammered looking at her husband but he was already frozen on the spot.

“Our kingdoms punishes those who break peace for greed. Therefore according to our laws and customs, you will be sentenced to death.” The calm nature of his voice contrasted greatly against the frantic protests of the royals.

All the guards who came with the visiting King and Queen now raised their swords for attack but were overpowered by the archers and half their army.

“My boy…” The queen sobbed. “You don’t want to do—”

In two quick swings of his dagger, he slit the throats of the royals and watched them fall to the ground tainting the area of equality they so happily created. Jungkook knew if he heard another word his movements would not have been that quick. Though the rush of pride for saving his kingdom quickly dwindled.

As soon they fell to the ground Jungkook saw a figure wearing white standing at the first flight of stairs.

Wide eyes reddened as her beautiful face contorted into nothing but pure pain. Belle ran over to her mother, falling to her knees with a thud right onto the puddle of her blood. Shoulders shook and fingers trembled as the realization tightened her chest. All the life she used to see in her mothers’ eyes now empty. “Mama…” She whispered pressing onto her neck as if it was going to save whatever remnant of her soul that was still left.

“Your parents were going to betray us, child. Did you know about this?” The queen asked and the princess felt a warmth inside her except it was different kind of fire.

Watery eyes flickered up to meet the royals before shaking her head, letting out a sharp sigh as she glanced over at her father and her fingers curled around her mothers clothing. All those years of training herself to be stronger than ever now rendered useless as she sat here in the pool of her parent’s blood flowing across a strangers’ kingdom. “I didn’t know about any betrayal.” She replied simply even though her mind conjured up much less composed decisions.

A tear droplet threatening to fall down his cheek as Jungkook looked over his shoulder at his parents in hope. She didn’t know about the betrayal. That meant she was innocent. She could be safe with him. But they did not look convinced at all.

Jungkook’s mother lightly patted her husband’s arm and he merely nodded before taking a breath. “You are hereby exiled from our kingdom.”

The announcement smashed through him like a hammer as he let out a shaky sigh. “Father…”

“This is my decision.” His tone grew firmer now forcing him to turn back and watch his actions bring its own consequences.

Belle struggled to stand up, knees still shaking causing Jungkook to curls his fingers into fists to stop himself from moving any closer. “I want my parents’ buried in our kingdom.” She spoke in a breathy tone to keep her calm, looking past the prince and not sharing a single glance his way.

After a moment of silence and the clanging of armor finally silenced, the King gave a curt nod. “Very well.” He gestured towards a few guards.

Stretchers were brought to take the bodies away while the princess was left to watch her parents blood run down the stairs and stain her white dress. Her form stood still and firm in front of the prince, lashes adorned with her tears. She attempted to wipe off her tears leaving little blood splotches on her face before her eyes moved to the shining silver band around her finger.

Belle’s promise replayed in her mind over and over again. It was almost funny how quickly the seasons could change in a world of duty and power. Naïve. She was naïve to think anything real could come of something that had no destination. They were never going to be together and he probably knew it. That’s why it was easy to rip her parents away from her as soon as the situation called. The girl spent too much time floating through the blossoms thinking the world was beautiful when it wasn’t. She could see the blood on his hands. Blood of her loved ones. It was all a lie.

Jungkook took a small step forward, wanting to break the rules again, to hold her right in front of everyone. Except he was forced to freeze when he watched her pull off the ring from her finger and drop it right into the puddle of her mothers’ blood. Red splattered onto the delicate pink blossom, tainting its beauty with the memory of his actions. His mistake. “Belle…” He whispered.

“Don’t talk to me.” She murmured, bottom lip trembling as she shook her head. “I don’t ever want to see your face again. Ever.”

The tear escaped down his cheek just as Namjoon carefully walked up the stairs and held onto Belle’s arm gently.

She didn’t hesitate despite the heavy ache in her chest, turning on her heel and walking down the stairs. Not a single look over her shoulder. For the first time she had no intention of him catching her.

Duty always gets placed first, Belle thought as she walked through the gates stanching of her parent’s blood. No matter how much love or how much care you had. You must put duty before everything. That was Jungkook did.

That was exactly what she was going to do.

next chap >> 

[oogaboogasphincter]

Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn (Ezra x f!reader)

Summary: Staying in a hotel on Puggart Bench while in between expeditions has given you and Ezra a lot of time to develop your relationship both emotionally and physically. On your last night before you depart for your next trip together, you decide to try out one of Ezra’s kinks. Your heartstrings aren’t the only things that will be getting tied up this evening. 

Word Count: 6.8k+

Rating: E (explicit) 18+ ONLY! because this is like 80% smut

Warnings: mild allusion to a rocky relationship from this oneshot (both partners have made up and are now in an established relationship), smut, soft-ish bondage (f gets tied up), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (obvi use protection irl please), dirty talk, swearing, a hand on a throat but no choking, one (1) instance of ✨spitting✨, questionable kink shaming??💀(a joke is made about daddy kinks), comma splice, atrocious metaphor and repetitive sentence structure galore. also no beta reader, and reader uses she/her pronouns and is afab. 

Author’s Note: this is my first smut fic! i really appreciated all of the positive feedback that i got on my first fic (💚), so i thought i would do a smutty follow-up to it! if you haven’t read it and you’d like to, you can read it here. i tried my best to make this fic readable as a standalone oneshot though, so if you’d like to do that, that’s cool too! :) i think the only things new readers need to know are that Ezra’s nickname for the reader is Goose, and The Blue is a moon, like The Green, that Ezra, Cee and the reader traveled to in my last fic. also i reference the traffic light system a lot more in this fic than i have personally read in other fics, just because i feel like it’s a great way of checking in on your partner during sex. i know it might get a lil annoying after a while, but i think it’s important to keep it up. i also wanted to include it in my first fic bc even though i might not use it explicitly in my next fics, i want it to be understood that I think it’s super important to continue to check on your partner, etc. also i apologize if the smut isn’t “realistic”, as your writer is 100% a virgin skjfskdj💀 i don’t think that means that i don't know/can't learn how to write some smut though! however i would just keep that in mind💀, and i hope you enjoy it! :)🍀💜

p.s. i'd like to say thank you to @martinsmomo​ one more time for giving me the amazing request for my first fic! 💕

gif by @skyshipper

“Go to the bedroom, strip to your underwear and wait for me.”

The patch job of your relationship with Ezra on The Blue was a success. Spending an equal amount of time with him alone, alone with Cee and as a trio boosted your strength as a group. The awkward silences and argumentative expeditions around The Blue were no more, and were replaced with friendly banter and jovial hikes. You and Ezra had made up so much that you had started to express your affection for one another physically. 

On every third day or so, Cee would go out on a trip alone, needing some time to herself. It wasn’t that she couldn’t stand the two of you - although you and Ezra occasionally found joy in pushing her buttons - but she enjoyed doing activities by herself. It made her feel like she was fortifying her transition from teenager to young adult. You and Ezra couldn’t have agreed more and supported her independent decisions. 

And on every third day or so, her absence from the pod allowed your courage to physically engage with Ezra to grow. The two of you had kept it to a minimum, not wanting Cee to notice any blushing cheeks or sweaty foreheads or panting chests when she would return. The majority of your time was spent just cuddling in positions that were a little too sexually charged to be considered platonic: a leg wound around a waist here, a hand gripping an ass there. The heaviest moment you had had was during a makeout session. 

While lying down in Ezra’s makeshift bed and mingling tastebuds, you had hiked one of your legs up and over his hips. Soon after, you felt the tip of his cock poke the underside of your thigh. He couldn’t have been harder. You dared to relieve some of his pent up arousal while still maintaining some semblance of innocence and released your grip on his hair, slid your hand down his broad chest and slipped it underneath your leg to get to his erection. You held it and ran your fingers over the tip of it, then along its length, hoping to get a good idea of what your pussy would have to take on at some later time. The moment Ezra felt the light weight of your hand, he moaned deeply into your mouth. He had then broken your kiss and warned, “Goose, in all seriousness, you should highly consider concluding your investigation unless you want to throw me into a pit of agonizing embarrassment.”

You teased, his clothed cock still in hand, “Ezra, I think we should stick to swallowing each other’s tongues and not speaking in them.” 

He had hummed in delight and grinned at you, then sighed, “Okay then, in your plebeian lingo: if you don’t stop rubbing my cock, I’ll cum in my pants.”

You both erupted in laughter, and you had snaked your hands back up his body and entangled them in his hair, taking his tongue in your mouth once again. 

After your departure from The Blue, your gang had decided to stop on Puggart Bench and decompress for a while. Cee wanted to hang out with her friends before they all went their separate ways in their new adult lives, Ezra wanted to repay the loan he had taken out for his prosthetic arm and you wanted a real bed to sleep in. Not a pilot’s chair, not a bundle of blankets on a metal floor, but a real bed. With a mattress, a comforter, a nice set of sheets, a plethora of blankets and pillows. A two bedroom suite in Puggart Bench’s most prestigious hotel was what the three of you had booked for two months before another orbiting moon made its way into the Bakhroma System for the three of you to explore. Your group had engaged in some nice, familial-like activities, nourishing your found family dynamic. 

You and Ezra had also spent quite a bit of time getting to know each other physically. While Cee would spend the day with her friends, you and Ezra never left your bed. Well, technically Ezra left the bed when he would stand, pull you to the very edge of it and subsequently use his newfound balance to pound into you with abandon. Your body hadn’t left the sheets, even when you knelt on the floor and took Ezra down your throat; your back pushed against the side of the mattress with every one of his thrusts. 

Fast forward to the present day, and it is the last day you are on Puggart Bench before you leave for The Indigo, the new moon in town. Cee is spending the night at her friend’s house, where she will be having one last sleepover with all of the girls she won’t have the chance to connect with for an undetermined period of time. You feel guilty for looking forward to her leaving because you can only imagine what your bedroom will see of you and Ezra tonight. 

While he washed your hair after a particularly exertive romp, Ezra had hinted that he had a kink that he wanted to try out with you. Without a definite return date from The Indigo, he offered that the two of you try it before you left for the moon, his desires getting the best of him. He never elaborated on what the kink is, as the both of you got entranced with washing the rest of your bodies. You plan on bringing it up tonight in the hopes of coming to a decision of whether or not you two have the patience to wait to test it out or not. 

The two of you are now putting on a facade of patience as Cee packs her things in her room. You sit in between Ezra’s legs on the couch, back to his torso, both of you reading a different book. The text fails to retain your attention, so you place a finger on the page you are on and fold it over. You shift your head against Ezra’s chest to look up at him, pupils dilating immediately as they take him in. Black thick-rimmed reading glasses grace his face, the only indication in his rugged appearance that he would be a bookworm. He glances down from his book to meet your eyes, smiling at you. He brings his right hand down, brushing the back of the dark grey metal against your cheek. You smile back at him, and a naughty thought pops into your brain. 

With your free hand, you find Ezra’s cock in an instant and palm it through his pants. His mouth drops in blissful surprise, but he’s quick to sit up and yank your hand away from his now hard dick. He snaps out a whisper, “Patience, Goose,” and places a light kiss to your temple. He gets up and walks away, afraid that you would just try to place your hand right back where it was. He was also afraid that he wouldn’t have the strength to stop you the next time. 

Suitcase clips clap from Cee’s bedroom, and moments later she walks into the living room. You look up at her from the back of the couch: still pouting that Ezra shooed you away, and he looks up at her too, standing behind the kitchen counter: hiding his erection. You both fight through your mutual embarrassment and smile at her, noticing her excitement. She beams at the two of you, suitcase in hand, and raises her shoulders, “Well, I’m going to go now.” 

She starts to walk to the door and Ezra follows her, putting a hand on her shoulder, “Have a good time, Sparrow. We’ll swing by and scoop you up tomorrow afternoon.” 

Cee smiles up at him, “Will do.” 

Ezra retracts his hand and puts both in his pockets, “We hate to bar you from seeing your friends and leading a more stable life, but we really do find solace in your company on our travels. It keeps us grounded, as much as one can be on an orbiting moon.” 

She turns so that she faces both of you, “No, that’s okay. I really enjoy being with you guys. You’re like a family that I got to pick.”

Tears threaten to run down your cheeks as you get up and rush over to her to give her a tight hug. She returns your embrace and Ezra follows shortly behind, encasing both of you in his arms. He draws giggles from his girls by placing a kiss on each of your heads, and after a moment of relishing in your found family, you all release one another. Cee says her final goodbyes, opens the door and closes it behind her, giving you and Ezra one last final smile of departure. 

You feel ashamed by the amount of heat that floods your genitals as soon as you hear the lock of the door click closed. Ezra, ever sensitive to your every mood change, pulls you in close and presses his forehead to yours, “You know we have to wait, Goose.” You nod, all too familiar with your routine once Cee left. You would wait and listen for her to walk down the hallway to the elevators, press the down button, wait for the doors to open, walk inside the chamber once it arrived, wait for the doors to close and finally start to descend to the ground floor. You did so out of respect for her; you and Ezra would never be able to forgive yourselves if she were to, for example, forget something and come back to find the two of you in the middle of some heated relations. 

Ezra’s fingers massage your shoulder blades as you anticipate the sound of the elevator opening, fully aware that he was not only dissipating any nerves you have but spurring your arousal on as well. He knows that thoughts of his fingers traveling elsewhere swarm your brain as he alternates the pressure his fingertips give you. With this knowledge, unbeknownst to you, he’s thinking about what his first order for you will be tonight. Would he introduce the kink that he alluded to the other day? Does he just want a night of repeating your default, mind-blowing agenda? How would you feel about reversing roles, and have you be his dominant and him your submissive? 

The ping of the elevator down the hall snaps him out of his trance. You eagerly await the whir of the elevator going down, and seconds later your wish is granted. Ezra lets go of you and steps back, eyes raking up and down your body twice before telling you, “Go to the bedroom, strip to your underwear and wait for me.” Such straightforward instructions to come from such an elaborate man. Ezra doesn’t waste a second in giving you seductive orders the moment he hears the elevator descending, his hunger to devour you reaching unbearable levels. With your appetite consisting of the same ferocity, you follow his instructions and go to your bedroom. Plopping onto the bed and laying on your back, you kick your shoes off, shimmy out of your pants and slide your shirt up and over your head, tossing the items to the chair in the corner of the room where you and Ezra kept your clothes. You found it humorous that he, like you, implemented the “chair of discarded clothing” into his life. 

Now in just your underwear and socks (Ezra had relayed to you that it is statistically easier to orgasm while wearing socks), you reach over into the nightstand and pull out a necktie. You had been rewarded with such powerful orgasms at the hands of Ezra - literally - that you often couldn’t hold in your cries no matter how hard you tried. The necktie’s usual resting place was in between your teeth, tied around your mouth in an effort to muffle yourself out of courtesy of your neighbors. Ezra’s mouth remained ungagged; the neighbors must’ve thought that he was trying out some new rigorous exercise regime with all of those heaves, grunts and... moans? What sort of move would cause his headboard to repeatedly knock on the wall? 

You sit and rub your thumbs on the buttersoft navy silk of the tie, patiently awaiting Ezra’s entrance into the room and later your cunt. A few moments later he comes in and shuts and locks the door behind him, an emergency precaution to protect the eyes of Cee or any intruding employee. He comes over and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. You glide over to him like a magnet and figure out a part of his kink after taking a quick glance into his hands, seeing that he’s holding rope. Black rope, to be exact, of varying lengths. He notices your quizzical brow and asks, “Spill your thoughts, Goose.” You gingerly reach out and touch the rope with your index finger, your vision moving in loops as you trace the coils. You look up and meet his eyes, those warm, curious, assuring windows to his soul that you love ever so dearly. You question, “Do you like to be tied up or do you want to tie me up?” 

He displays a faint smile, “I’d find great satisfaction in tying you up. However, I would be a liar if I claimed that the thought of you restraining me and having your way with me never joyfully crossed my mind.”

You sit there in silence, taking in his desires. You are most definitely up for this, you just approach every new romp with hesitation. You hadn’t been a virgin the first time you slept with Ezra, but no one had ever made you feel so good. So open, exposed, on display, in all the right ways. You had been set ablaze by his confident maneuvers, calmed ever so coolly by his doting ministrations. He had drowned you in his passionate love, and you had loved every single fucking second of it. It just got a bit overwhelming at times, which he would take notice of and promptly give you your time and space when you needed it. 

The rope intimidates you. It was smooth to the touch on the pad of your finger, but you could already imagine the uncomfortable burns it could give you. The tightness and thickness of the coils add to the fantasy of being completely immovable, but it also plants doubts in your mind. You voice your concerns to Ezra, “I’d love for you to tie me up, but I don’t think I’d like to start with rope.”

He cups your cheek lovingly, “Always one step ahead of me, Goose,” and picks up an end of the necktie in your lap. He rubs it with you, “I don’t want to start with the rope on you, either. I want us to work up to it.” He pats your cheek and holds up the rope in his hands, “I mean, it does look a little scary, doesn’t it?” Your newfound ease lets itself out of your lungs with a giggle, mirrored by Ezra. He turns and puts the rope on the seat at the foot of your bed, and you climb into his lap as he turns back around and cover his mouth with yours. Falling back onto the bed, his arms wrap around you like a snake and constrict you to his body. You grind your pussy onto his clothed torso, desperate for some friction, your soft moans tumbling down his throat. 

He has to pull you away from his mouth by the back of your neck, “Let me take my clothes off, sweet girl.” He gives you a chaste kiss before you roll off of him and let him stand to strip. As he gets naked, you remove your panties in a flash, and he quizzes you, “Color system?”

“Green for when I’m enjoying it, yellow for when I’m being pushed to my limits, red for when I’ve reached my limit and need you to stop.” 

“Good girl. What’s our safe word?”

“Magpie.”

“Excellent. Are you ready?” he asks as he pulls his underwear down and repeats your earlier action of throwing the discarded clothes onto the chair in the corner. 

You nod fervently, “Yes sir.” 

He sighs as he walks over to the edge of the bed and kneels, “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Goose, you don’t have to call me that. I feel fulfilled enough in my domination with the heavenly noises your precious body emits.” 

You shrug, “It’s just natural. It’s a good girl formality, Ez. Aren’t I a good girl?”

He raises an eyebrow as he hooks his hands behind your knees and pulls your legs over the bed so you’re sitting on the edge, “I don’t think good girls let their neediness get the best of them and just fondle cocks out in the open.” You let out a devious laugh, noting his reference to your sneak attack on the couch, and he takes the necktie from you.  Your fingers run through his hair for a moment before he gently takes your wrists, smiling up at you. 

He reaches up to kiss you, and after your lips part he mumbles against them, “I’m just going to tie your hands together now, okay?” 

You nod, “Okay.” 

He gives you another wholehearted kiss before sitting back on his feet, beginning to tie your wrists to one another. You admit, although it’s incredibly arousing to watch his thick fingers twirl the smooth fabric into a knot, you grow a little bit anxious at the loss of movement. He can read it on your face after he finishes the knot, “I want you to lay back while I eat you out. I tied your hands in front of you so that you can pinch me if you want me to stop but can’t find your words.” You nod, appreciating the simplicity of his instructions. 

“I need you to use your words now, Goose.”

“Okay,” you reiterate, “Safe word is magpie. I can pinch you if I can’t say it.”

He nods, “Good girl,” and eases you onto your back. As he’s moving down your body to your core, something dawns on you, “Wait a minute.”

Ezra pauses and looks up at you with a caring expression, “What?”

“How am I supposed to stay quiet with the tie on my wrists and not in my mouth?”

He answers simplistically with a smirk, “Don't.”

You laugh, “What about the neighbors?”

“Fuck them. They should be grateful that tonight they will be an audience to one of the most beautiful symphonies that has ever been composed. And I’m not stepping foot off of this planet until I’ve heard my good girl’s clear, unabashed screams.” 

A rush of hot air leaves your mouth, enticing Ezra to come back up and push it back into you with his tongue. A moment of clashing teeth later, he retreats back down to your core and lightly knocks your legs apart. You shift your gaze downward to find him admiring your cunt, his left hand capturing his dick and pumping it a few times. He leans forward, presses a kiss to your inner thigh and then runs his sharp nose over the spot, up your leg, across your hip and back down to your wetness and inhales deeply. You can’t help but laugh at his display of rapture, his sniffing audible. He threatens you in disbelief, “My indulgence amuses you, Goose?” 

You meet his eyes with yours, twinkling with mischief, “Yeah, kind of.” 

He puts his tongue in his cheek and shakes his head, “Goose, you are being a bit of a brat.” He pushes your knees to your chest, his hands on the backs of your thighs, keeping them in place, “And you should know by now how much I love taming my little brat.” 

You are very aware of how much he enjoys brat taming, hence your acting up. His tongue licks a wide stripe up your core and a gasp escapes your mouth. He moans into you, sending vibrations through your cunt and shivers up your spine. He buries his tongue in you, his lips fornicating with your southern set, his fingers gripping your soft flesh tightly. Your anticipation of this moment has made your cunt oversensitive, so every little tickle of Ezra’s facial hair, every small movement of his warm tongue, every faint nudge of his nose and chin against your vulva makes you moan loudly. The pattern that his tongue is following suddenly picks up speed and your body involuntarily adjusts to it. Your hips buck up into his mouth, your clit weeping to be drenched in his saliva. Your tied hands lower until your fingertips are able to find his hair and intertwine with the thick brunette strands. The stability that gripping onto his hair gives you makes you hyperaware of just how close you are to cumming already. You whimper, “Ezra, please.”

This tone of your voice has been permanently ingrained in his mind thanks to your daily fucks over the past couple months. If the tightening of your hamstrings isn’t a large enough hint to him that you are close, your breathlessness is a blatant clue. He releases you from his mouth, lines of spit keeping the two of you connected, “That’s my girl, come on.” His egging on is more than you need to be shoved into your orgasm. As his tongue returns to lap at your clit, your neck arches up and your eyes roll into the back of your head. A groan rips through your throat that drowns out his muffled moans, his mouth working you through your orgasm. Your sharp intakes of air start to stagger out as your heart begins to calm down, your cunt pulsing with aftershocks. Ezra reluctantly removes his mouth from you, wetting your inner thigh with a line of his spit and your slick before pressing a kiss to the same spot he kissed earlier. The blackness of his pupils overtakes his chocolatey irises when he catches your eyes, dopamine flooding his nervous system. 

He presents his wrist, does some math on an imaginary watch and jokes, “That must’ve been a record, Goose.” You giggle and pull your hands up to your mouth, trying to hide your embarrassed smile. He reaches up and pulls your hands back down to tangle your fingers in his cowlicks, “But my desire to drink pools of your cum has not yet been satiated.” 

You swear under your breath as he dips his head back in between your legs, your voice catching in your throat when his hot breath cascades over your folds. This time, instead of licking stripes and lapping, he opts to draw shapes and trace circles against you. It sounds stupid, but man does it feel fucking good. Before you lose all self control, you give his scalp a massage, the best one you can muster with conjoined hands, as a way of telling him I love you. Simultaneously, he switches his tongue’s clockwise motion to counterclockwise and hooks his hands around the tops of your thighs, pulling you deeper into his mouth so he can devour you even more thoroughly than he already was. You brush his hair off of his sweaty forehead with your knuckles, seeing that his eyes are closed and brows are furrowed in concentration. He’s been moaning this entire time into you, blissfully lost in the heaven that is your pussy, and as his tongue picks up its pace the vocal vibrations boost your toward your release. You beg of him, “Please don’t stop.” 

He doesn’t stop. In fact, he heightens your arousal one step further than you thought possible. He notes your utter wetness and decides to fill your wanting hole by snaking his left hand down to your entrance and slipping two fingers inside you. A heated orgasm pumps through your every artery just like Ezra’s fingers are pumping in and out of your cunt, his tongue keeping a delicious pace. After your body is done convulsing with pleasure, he moves up it and stops in front of your face. 

“Open.” 

You are all too familiar with this command and obey. Ezra spits a combination of your cum and his saliva into your mouth. He presses a hand to the underside of your jaw and you close your mouth. 

“Swallow.” 

You do as he says while he keeps his hand against your neck, feeling his love concoction make its way down your throat. He groans and gives you a quick kiss before asking, “Color?” You smile and bring your hands up to scratch at his scruff, “Green. You?”

“Green.” 

Pulling your body tight against his, he hauls the two of you to the middle of the bed. He sits up and back atop your hips, pulls your hands closer to him and begins to untie your wrists. Your eyes can’t help but fixate on his hard dick, standing erect in front of you, as he speaks, “Now Goose, once you’re untied I want you to get on all fours for me,” he notices your distraction, “and if you try to pull any shenanigans, there will be consequences.” You shift your gaze up to his eyes and you swear that there’s a deep sparkle in them that is daring you, begging you, to disobey him. He liked to punish you as much as you liked to be punished by him. So, once untied, you throw him a curveball and take his orders, flipping over and propping yourself up on your hands and knees. You look over your shoulder at him to see that his face is mangled in baffled confusion, making you laugh, “What?” 

He mounts your ass and teases your entrance with his cock, “If you had attempted to grab what your eyes were drooling over, I would’ve spanked you.” 

“But I didn’t.”

He leans over your back and places his hands on either side of yours, “I wanted to spank you.” 

“I know. But I’m not a naughty girl.”

He raises his eyebrows and chuffs out disbelief, “Maybe if you continue to tell yourself that delusion, you can convince yourself that it’s true. But there’s no fooling me. I know my girl is infatuated with misbehaving in order to spite me,” he stuffs his cock inside your pussy, “Isn't that true?” He lifts his left hand to wrap his fingers around the arched column of your throat, forcing you to look up at him. 

You dismantle his lie, “I don’t do it to spite you, I do it to delight you.” 

He pulls his hips away from yours in order to prepare for a thrust and hums, “That’s one reason why I love you, Goose. You see right through me.” 

The two of you groan in unison as he fucks forward and bottoms out inside you. As he establishes a steady pace, your quivering fingers find purchase on his wrist. Even though you had slept together a countless number of times in the past two months, his girthy penetration still overwhelmed you at first, and you benefitted from at least a few seconds of adjusting. He knew this and was why he untied you; his brutal rhythm coupled with the binding of the tie would be too much for you without a little warming up. While he’s stretching you out, he murmurs encouragements into your hair, “That’s it, just like that... You’re taking my cock so well... Good girl.” 

After your muscles relax, he asks, “Color?”

“Couldn’t be greener. You?”

He grins at your response, “Green.” 

He gives your cheek a kiss before proposing his next instruction, “Why don’t you be a good girl and lay down and put your arms behind your back?”

He pauses his thrusts as you lean forward and press your cheek against the sheets. You turn to ask him just how he wants you to move, and he reads your mind, “Touch the pits of your elbows.” You twist your forearms behind your back until they are pressed against each other and the tips of one hand’s fingers graze the opposite side’s elbow. He snakes the silky tie in between your spine and wrists, the fabric gliding easily over your sweaty skin. He ties your wrists together again, this time much looser than before. He color checks you when he finishes the knot. You wiggle your arms, the amount of resistance being just right, “Green.” He hums in enjoyment and runs his fingertips down the backs of your arms, sending a pleasant shudder through you. 

Lining himself up, he places a steadying right hand on your lower back. The contrast of the cool metal of his prosthetic limb to the fire that barrels through you once he pushes himself back into your hole is divine. Both textures of his hands slip against your skin as they try to find a solid grip on your hips in order to allow him to begin pounding into you. Your whimpering spurs him on, and once he’s able to to lock you into place you both swear under your breath in anticipation. As he embarks on his ferocious rhythm, an orgasm takes you by surprise. 

Well, not really by surprise, because Ezra has proven time and time again that he can coax you to cum at a moment’s notice. 

Out of courteous instinct, you bury your face into the bed to muffle your cries of ecstasy. Ezra turns your face to the side and tuts, “Uh-uh, Goose, I need to hear you this time, remember?” 

You can barely him him, let alone understand him, while an astronomical burst of white oxytocin smothers your poor body. Unable to gain control of your composure to stop yourself, you indulge Ezra and let your screams fill the bedroom. The numbness of your mind fades away, effects of your orgasm bringing feeling back to you: the hot tears that spot your bottom lashline, the sweet soreness that the tensing of your muscles left you, the sweat that gathers in the line of your spine, the aroused slick that coats your inner thighs. 

You pant as Ezra unties you, “Good girl. Flip over and face me,” and he tenderly places your forearms to your sides. 

You’re exhausted. You can most definitely take more of his loving, but you need him to do the work, “I can’t.” 

He rolls you over onto your back, his muscular arms giving you the comfort you need to go on. A frantic, worried expression takes over his face, “You okay? Still green? I didn’t push you too far, did I? Was the tie too tight? Did I-” 

You shut him up with a kiss. You reassure him, “Yes, still green. Just fucking tired.” 

You both laugh, and he asks, “Do you want to stop?” 

You shake your head no, “I’m not sure if the neighbors heard all of that scream. I think they need another one.” 

Your dirty talk contorts his mouth into a grin of sly allure as he gets up off the bed, “I concur.” He opens a drawer of the nightstand and takes out another necktie, this one made of black wool. He gets back on the bed and says, “Let’s give them a musical to remember.” 

You snicker as he pushes both of you farther up the bed, giving you more room to mess about in. He places the second tie next to the blue one and a hand on each of your ankles, “What this next position requires in flexibility it will pay for infinitely in pleasure for you and I both, okay, Goose?” 

Your wariness is excited, “Okay?” 

He pulls your legs together and picks up the blue tie. He wraps the fabric around both ankles, beginning to tie them together, but pauses and interjects, meeting your eyes, “You’re okay with me tying you here, right?” 

You smile at his concern and mock, “Ezra, you could tie me any way you’d like and I’ll be more than happy.” 

His nose crinkles in satisfaction and he resumes tying you up. After he’s done, he pushes your thighs to your chest, bending your knees so your feet are in the air. You can’t stop the laughter that erupts from you, “Ez, what in the Bakhroma System are you scheming?” 

He gives you a wickedly teasing laugh back, “A fun time, Goose.” 

He momentarily cups your face with his left hand, “If at any point it gets too much, for whatever reason, just say the word and I’ll stop everything.” 

You take his hand and kiss his palm, “Okay.” 

He smiles, boops your nose with his thumb and pulls your arms so that they rest in the pit of your upside down knees. He picks up the black tie and does a different knot on your arms than he had done previously. He puts the binding on them higher up, which makes you hold your legs up, keeping your cunt on display for him. The wool of the tie scratches where the silk had soothed you, but you savor the friction. Ezra wastes no time in entering you again, plunging his cock deep into your fluttering walls. You brace your forehead against your shins, panting wildly. With every thrust, he hits something deep and sensitive in you, but you know you could make the experience more intense for the both of you. 

“Ez?” 

“Yeah?”

“Can you look at me?” He angles himself so he can look around your legs and meet your eyes. As you are projected into the depths of his eyes, engulfed by the lust-blown ink of his pupils, enhanced by the dark coffee that surrounds them, an “I love you” slips out of your lips. 

He compresses your body further by leaning down and capturing your mouth, “I love you too.” 

When he pulls back and his hands find the backs of your thighs, he asks for a color check. You answer green, giving him permission to ravage you. He does just that, putting every ounce of his might behind his thrusts, eliciting growls of the same magnitude from you both. The gradual construction of an orgasm starts to warm your body, your moans getting louder and louder with each passing second. In an effort to put it off, you bite down hard on your lip. Ezra notices, running a thumb across your lipline, “Goose, please, allow me to be privy to your every stuttered breath.”

“Every gasp of delighted surprise.”

“Every involuntary whimper.”

“Every lustful yelp.”

“Every plea for me to keep going.”

“Every unhinged beg.”

“Every feral scream that only I can rouse out of those magnificent lungs. Indulge my deranged wish and let me hear it all, Goose.”

His words whisk you onto an expressive whirlwind of slow-building passion. You close your eyes and watch as your orgasm transforms from a cozy snuggle to a captivating explosion; behind your eyelids, amorous red transitions to a lustful magenta. It lightens to a flirtatious and giggly bubblegum, intensifying to a vibrating, barely-there pink. Then, all at once, buckets of slumberous evergreen, pure Ezra energy, submerge you into your release. Any bit of any other color is eradicated as he pours his soul onto yours. Descending from your chameleonic trance, you open your eyes to meet his. He can see that he has torn you apart in a most satiating way, which catapults him to his peak. He pulls out of you and pumps his cum onto the backside of your thighs, his heart collapsing with joy. He smears his stickiness across both of your hamstrings and then quickly gets to work to release you from his necktie binds. The bind that he has made of your heart to his, though, is infinitely knotted, forever unbreakable. 

Your limbs untangle themselves and fall to the bed, every cell in your body pooped from the session. He asks for a final time, “Color?” 

You sigh, “Green. You?” 

He smiles, “Green.” 

He brushes the now cum-stained ties to the side and pats your stomach, stamping a handprint of his seed, “I’ll be right back, Goose.” You nod once and he gets up and exits the room, leaving the door ajar.

You flip onto your stomach, your muscles yearning for a change of position after getting pummeled into the mattress. You bend your arms to lay in front of you, elbows sighing in relief for being contracted instead of stretched. You close your eyes and rest your head on his pillow for what seems like a millisecond, but when you open them back up Ezra has returned with two glasses of water, a washcloth and a juice box. 

He folds the cloth into a triangle, dips a corner into a glass and then brings it behind you. The icy water feels good on your overheated skin as he wipes away his cum before it has the chance to dry. Once he cleans you off, he takes a seat on the edge of the bed next to your depleted frame. He sets the cloth down and picks up the other glass of water, “Drink this, sweetheart.” You prop yourself up on your forearms and gulp some much needed fluids down as Ezra holds the glass steady against your mouth. You hold up a weak hand when you’ve had your fill and he finishes off the drink. You never thought you would find sharing a drink like this with someone stomachable, let alone wildly attractive. But Ezra had changed you; you wanted to exchange cells, germs, bodily fluids with him, no matter how nasty it sounded when put into words. 

Ezra trades the glass for the juice box and pops the straw into the opening, holding it up to your lips, “Drink some.” You curiously eye the juice box: apple flavored, the carton decorated in bright and childish cartoons. You tease him, “You know, when I said I might have a daddy kink, this is not what I meant.” 

You both laugh, and he pokes after a moment, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” 

As you take the straw into your mouth and drink, he places a hand on the back of your head and pets your hair, “That’s it, babygirl, do as Daddy says.” An air of laughter blows through your nose and you choke on the liquid as Ezra cackles. You drop the straw and cough, “Stop!” 

He continues to laugh at you while you whine, “Why do I have to drink this anyways, can’t I just have water?” 

He calms himself down and shakes his head, “No, I want to replenish your blood sugar. Otherwise you might feel faint, and not in a good way.” He shoots you a wink and you take another sip of the juice. 

When you’re done, he puts the half-empty box back on the nightstand and lays on top of you. You joke, “You’re crushing me and you told me I have to pee right after.” 

Since sleeping together, Ezra had realized how little knowledge of aftercare you had. He had advised you to go to the bathroom as soon as possible after the deed is done in order to avoid urinary tract infections, among other pains. He nuzzles into your shoulder and protests, “In a minute.” 

Taking into account the history of his comment and your increasingly heavy eyelids, you rebut, “You know that never happens.” More often than not, when Ezra trapped you in a cage of cuddles directly afterward like this, the two of you would fall asleep and you would skip the trip to the bathroom. He grunts and moves his weight off of you, “Fine, but I’ll only let you go if I can carry you in there.” You barely have time to begin laughing before he’s swooping you up into his arms. 

After you both use your respective time in the bathroom, you and Ezra dress in matching pajamas and climb into bed. Coddling you into his broad chest, his fingers dance on the back of your neck and your lower back. You turn your head up to face him and when he returns your gaze you reference the whole night, “Thank you.” 

A smile crinkles his tired eyes, “The pleasure was all mine, Goose. Thank you for taking it all so well. Get some sleep, okay?” 

“Only if you will too.”

“Sure thing, my love.”

He gives you a kiss before you retreat back into the sanctuary of his embrace. Right as you’re drifting off to sleep, he adds, “I would like to ravage you one more time, in the morning.” 

Your smirk pulls at the fabric of his shirt, “Okay. But no daddy kink. We have to save some things to explore when we come back.” 

He hums, pressing his cheek into the top of your head before the two of you succumb to the temptation of sleep, “As you wish.”

💘taglist: @pascalpanic

[imagining-in-the-margins]

WIP Challenge Snippets!

Big thank you to everyone who requested something. I love hearing what ideas you all are excited for! I'll put each of the snippets below in alphabetical order. All but one are just dialogue - I'm currently at a point where that's all I have done for most of my WIPs.

Somewhat unsurprisingly, only smut fics were requested, so minors please DNI!

Hope you enjoy!

Centerfold*

I'm still unsure if this will be a mini-series or a oneshot. I have no freaking clue. Here's a snippet of dialogue, though! Starts with Derek.

“Alright kid, spill the beans.” “Did you know that phrase could stem from numerous possible practices? It could just be a reference to vomiting, but there’s an alternate explanation involving an ancient voting practice of dropping colored beans into a jar and—“ “Not gonna work on me, Reid.” “Fine.” (whispers) “That girl in that magazine? The ‘Vegas Vixen?’ I lost my virginity to her.” “You’re messing with me.” “No! I’m not! I swear that I am not messing with you.” “There’s no way.” “Would I make that up?!” “To mess with me? Yeah, maybe.”

Coquette*

This is a long work that has been heavily inquired about and a very long time coming, so here is a long snippet of dialogue to continue the trend. Starts with Spencer.

“Don’t sound so scared. I’m not going to tell anyone.” “I-I know.” “Do you?” “No. I just hoped not…” “What were you planning if I said I was going to?” “Where are we going? I never told you my address.” “I need to drive around in case someone is following us.” “Oh. That makes sense.” “Answer my question.” “I… hadn’t considered it.” “That’s a lie.” “Fine. I would make a deal with you.” “Tell me the deal. Maybe I’ve changed my mind.” “I won’t tell everyone how hard you got for me when I danced on your lap if you don’t tell them I’m a stripper.” “A tempting offer, although I’m not very ashamed of being turned on by a woman who’s made a career out of being tantalizing, Coquette.” “What’s your idea of a good deal, then?” “Hmmm… My silence in exchange for whatever you were willing to offer me before you found out who I was.” “What are you implying?” “I know a lot about that club… And that it was your first night in the backroom. But your nerves tell me you knew what you were there for.” “Are you seriously propositioning me right now? Through blackmail?” “You asked me what a good deal was, not what I would ask for.” “So what would you ask for?” “Your address. So I can take you home.”

H2M Epilogue*

This whole part makes me want to melt, but here is a funny dialogue snippet.

Derek: “Alright, I know you love to break rules, but Penelope made me doorman for a reason.” Reader: “You really want to pick a fight with me? On my wedding day? I know you know me, Derek Morgan. I know you know better than to stand between me and my husband.” Derek: “He’s not your husband yet, Princess.” Spencer: “Actually, we had a courthouse ceremony a few weeks ago, just in case something happened and we had to miss this ceremony.” (Reader tackles him as he walks up to the door) Derek: “Hopeless. And selfish. Penelope is going to kill me, you know.”

Lane Courtesy* (Franklin)

This fic is purely for my beta @sunlight-moonrise, but y'all can read it if you want. Starts with Franklin.

“Maybe it’d be easier if you bought clothes that fit.” “I think I look pretty good in what I’m wearing. And I think you think so, too. Besides... it’s all in the wrist, anyway. You wanna see?” (She grabs his ball, he grabs her arm) “Don’t worry, babe. I’m good at handling men’s balls.” “Oh, I bet you are.” “Plus, I promise I’ll give them back to you after.”

Practice Makes Perfect* (backburner)

This is a very old original idea I had. I'm not sure if/when I'll ever get around to it - if anyone wants it, I'd love to hand over the dialogue I have so far. Here is a snippet regardless! Starts with Spencer.

“Hey (y/n), what—" “Spencer! Can I come in?” “C-come in? Into my room?” “Uh... yeah.” “But you... you’re... you’re dressed like a...” “A stripper, yeah. Are you going to make me stand out here like this longer?” (He lets her in) “Is there something I can do?” “Can I dance on you?” “What?” “I want to give you a lap dance. Please.” “A lap— why?" “Who else am I going to ask? Hotch? Please, Spencer. You’re the only person I trust.” “Trust?” “Please stop rephrasing everything I say as a question.”

Shortbread (Chip)

Love me some Sub!Chip. This is honestly probably on the backburner. I've been in a very Spencer mood lately. Starts with Chip.

“Can I ask you something?” “What’s up, sweetheart?” “Why are you so nice to me all the time?” “What do you mean?” “You don’t really know me. But ever since I met you, you’ve always just been nice to me. I mean, I know you’re nice to everyone, but it feels…” “Different? It should.”

Seatbelt Safety* (Chip)

Gosh, this fic is so short, I really need to just write it. Uber Driver Chip. Starts with Reader.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. I kind of needed to act a bit crazy.” “Why?” “I was trying to get out a super awkward date.” “By running into the street?” “Trust me. It was a bad date.” “Oh. Well, I’m sorry you had a bad date.” “It’s fine. You know how it goes.” “Not really. Haven’t had a date in a long time.” “Why is that?” “Idunno.” “Hm.” “What?” “You wanna go on a date with me?” “What?” “Let’s go on a date.” “... What?” “Most people say yes or no. ‘What’ isn’t very helpful. Is this why you can’t get a date?” “I can get a date! I just... haven’t been asked by anyone in awhile. And definitely not like that. That was weird.”

Study Session* (requested three times!):

I have a lot of this done already, so you get an actual sneak peek here!

“Listen closely, young lady,” he said like I had any other option. Like I wasn’t enraptured and enchanted by the feel of his warm breath once again hitting my ear. He could feel the way breath stuttered and my body stumbled straight into him with eager hands. I could almost feel his smirk against my ear when he concluded, “I would never... ever sleep with you.” And just like that, he was gone. He didn’t just drop me; he tossed me to his side like the very notion of being that close to me disgusted him. The desire that had been burning inside of my chest quickly shifted to rage. He could pretend like he didn’t want me, but there was no other justification for bringing me out to the back in the first place. There was no reason to allow me to confront him, nor for him to discuss my sex life in any manner at all. Seconds after we were both inside again, I grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him back to me. Surprisingly, there was very little resistance. It was almost like he was waiting for me to do it. I tugged him into the small, dimly lit bathroom without a care in the world for who might have seen us or what whispers might follow. Spencer was already laughing, apparently amused by anger rolling off of me. “Say it again,” I ordered through heavy breaths, “Say it to my face.” I’d prepared myself for a number of responses — most of which were varying levels of humiliating. What I hadn’t prepared for, however, were the words that actually came out of his mouth. Casually, and without question, Spencer ordered, “Get on your knees.” He was so calm that I felt like it must have been a trick. It took everything in me not to fall to my knees, and instead I managed to ask, “Why?” His answer was equally unhelpful and alluring. “Because I said so.”

The Agent Assigned to My Webcam*

This is a beast of a fic, so it'll also be a while. There were so many parts I could show you, but I thought this one was the most thought provoking.

Reader: “Wait! Sorry, I-I... uh... Can I see your ring?” Spencer: “... Sure.” Reader: “Thanks. What did you say your name was?” Spencer: “I didn’t.” (He leaves, she follows him into the empty hallway) Reader: “Do I know you, Doctor Reid?” Spencer: “No.” Reader: “Are you sure?” Spencer: “I could ask you the same thing.” Reader: “Drop your pants and I’ll tell you exactly how sure I am.” Luke: (walks in) “Sorry. Am I... interrupting something?”

That's all for now, folks!

Thanks for reading. If you feel so inclined, let me know what you thought about any of the above here!

[bts-teaspoonff]

Distance pt. 1

Genre: Romance, Oblivious Mutual Pining, Operation:Jealousy, College!AU, eventual smut

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Rating: PG-13 (last chapter - M rating)

Synopsis: You adore Jimin but you’ve kept it a secret from him despite being so close to him. Jimin turns out that he feels the same. Would you be able to erase the distance between you and Jimin when mountains of obstacles come both your way?

Word count: 6.7k

PARTS: 1 | 2 | 3

(A/N) I know I updated you guys about this being a oneshot but as I was writing it, it became a bit long and I was also busy with a lot right now. I will split this supposed-to-be-one-shot into two or three parts. It won’t be a long fanfic.

Loud blasts of sounds coming from the room beside mine woke me up from my nap. My brother’s speakers were on full blast, with no regards for life present inside the house that might be savoring the peaceful afternoon that was once inhabiting this house. I rolled to the other side of my bed and buried my face under the pillow. I really tried to mask the noise but apparently, he shot up the volume twofold. I trashed my blanket away from me and stood up from the bed. Still half awake, I bolted out of my room. Standing in front of my brother’s room, I bombarded his door with loud and mad whacks. He knows I take my afternoon slumber a bit more seriously so he better make sure to expect an earful from me.

“Jeon Jungkook. Open this door this instant!” I brutally murdered his door with knocks and pounds then I was greeted by a smiling Jungkook, as he opens the door with just his head peeking through. “I was taking a nap. Good dream in fact. Give me one reason now, for me not to cut the wire of your speakers.”

“I have a good one actually.” He fully opened the door and then I was greeted by two smiling angels, or little devils depending on their mood. Jimin and Taehyung, my brother’s best friends and also my batch mates in college. I was in awe at the sight of Jimin sitting on a beanbag across the room. Not a moment ago, he was fully occupying my dreams and now, he’s here sitting quietly enjoying his bag of chips. Taehyung still continuing to dance over the songs that, I might add, are making my ears bleed with how loud it is.

“You know I don’t question your music taste, but do you want me to check your ears? Are you deaf that you need to turn up the music this loud? The walls of this house are gonna crumble down any moment with how ground-shaking and deafening it is.” Jimin chuckling while taking a mouthful of chips in his hands from the bag. Jungkook was still wiggling his butt to the music. I was stealing glances at Jimin as Jungkook proceeded to turn the volume of his speakers down. “Thank you.”

“Sorry. I forgot that you were at home. I thought you were at your part time work.” Jungkook leaned on the door with his arms over his head. “Mom and Dad are on a trip so I figured I could enjoy the house.” Jimin stood up from where he was seated and I could feel a small pull from my chest as he fixed his shirt. I admired his skinny but toned arms and ethereal face, glowing from the golden hour just emanating from the windows in my brother’s room. It is not helping that he was wearing a white loose long-sleeved shirt but still shows his amazing physique, which is totally my type.

“Hey.” I could feel the heat inside my body just from this small greeting from Jimin. Gosh, I am so totally attracted to this man. “Sorry to disturb your nap. We really thought you weren’t at home.” Jungkook removed his arms on the door and went back to join Taehyung, who is still enjoying bopping to songs in the background like the comedian he is. Jimin, now leaning on the door in front of me, looked straight into my eyes while smiling. I was taken aback and found my head back up from embarrassment that he might discover the flush stamped on my face.

He threw what seems to be my brother’s heavy blanket over my chest. I looked down and caught the blanket, and stared back at him looking puzzled. “Cover up.” He jokingly grinned. I looked down again and I realized that I was wearing a spaghetti strap tank and boxer shorts. I was beet red from embarrassment. Why did I forget the lack of clothing I’m wearing and here I am still in front of my crush like I’m parading myself?.

Jimin cleared his throat.  “Are you gonna come to the party at Hoseok’s house this weekend?”

“I guess so. Are you gonna go?” I asked back.

“I might. I haven’t really decided yet.” He rubbed his nape and looked at me. It’s as if time slowed down as we both look into each other’s eyes. The tension was slowly suffocating me and I couldn’t muster a word.

“How about you go with us? I’ll drive.” Taehyung slid himself through the small space between Jimin’s body and the door.

“I thought Jimin’s not decided yet?”

“Oh.” Taehyung turned to look at Jimin. “He’s going to come to the party. I’m sure.” Taehyung chuckled.

Jimin just stood there quiet, with both his hands at his side. “Okay. You guys pick me up at 8?” Taehyung nods and proudly places his arms on Jimin’s shoulder.

“Noona, can you order pizza? I’m famished.” I saw Jungkook from behind, sitting down on his bean bag. He was sweating profusely on his forehead and trying to catch his breath. Looks like him and Tae danced their asses off.

“Sure. I was about to ask you the same thing.” I smiled as I step out of Jungkook’s room and hurriedly ran towards mine, Jungkook’s blanket still wrapped around me, to phone the pizza place. However, a part of me also wanted to quickly escape the tension that was brewing in the room.

Taehyung nudges Jimin’s side, warranting an eye smirk from Jimin. “What was that? Getting your tongue-tied?” He whispered as he stood in front of Jimin, just inches away from the open door. “You’re not doing a good job hiding your feelings.” He looked behind Jimin and towards Jungkook to make sure the younger boy doesn’t hear what he’s saying.

“What are you talking about?” Jimin whispered back.

“I’m obviously talking about y/n.” Taehyung poked at Jimin’s stomach, suprising him. “In this situation, why don’t you just confess if you’re going to be so obvious?”

“Am I really... that obvious?” asks Jimin.

“I’m your best friend since high school. I know you like the back of my hand. Besides, it’s like you become this shy little boy when it comes to her. You look so cute.” Taehyung scoffs, rubbing his hand on Jimin’s chin before walking back to Jungkook.

…..

“What was that? I thought he’s gonna hear my heart pounding.” I gently pat my hands on my chest, leaning on the door of my room. I paced around my room to calm down the party in my chest.

I used to just see Jimin as the goofy classmate and a friend of my brother’s. I already kind of know him even back then since he was slightly popular with the girls. Girls tend to ogle and chat whenever Taehyung and Jimin pass by through the halls. Come on, who wouldn’t? I admit that those two really look handsome but it didn’t faze me before. They became friends with my brother when they formed this band together with other boys from the campus.

We were once paired to present a report together in a class that we were both taking at the time when we were college sophomores. I’m not much of a talker especially to strangers. I’m comfortable enough with the company and stories of my few friends. That’s why it surprised me back then that Jimin would keep on making small talk even outside of our class while we were working together on our presentation. I just thought he would make me do all the work and not pay attention. He was really helpful with our presentation, even nitpicking all the small details.

Whenever he and Taehyung would visit my brother at home to do band practice, he would sneak in some moments to work with me on our presentation. I really saw his efforts when the date for their band performance and our presentation coincided on the same week.

“It’s okay. I can finish this. You can go back downstairs.” I was yawning in front of Jimin, while he snuck out from their practice downstairs to come to my room. He was adamant on working on the presentation.

“I want to work on this… with you.” I was sitting in front of my computer while Jimin was sitting beside me. I could feel his eyes locked on me as I let out another yawn. He slid his fingers on top of mine and I looked at him. The air in the room was ghost-quiet but my heartbeat was so deafening. It was the first time I felt shy around Jimin. I pulled my hand away from his. He cleared his throat and looked away. “What kind of a partner am I if I push all this on you? I don’t want my name to be on our work if I, at least, don’t put in this much effort.” He laughed and we both looked at each once more.

I guess I liked him since then. Ever since that night, my heart would jump at the sight of him. It’s like I got this pink sparkly filter in my eyes whenever I would see Jimin. I would become tongue-tied whenever I would be near him. I would be distracted in class, staring at him like what the other girls would do. I kept this to myself and I don’t want to be like other girls who go crazy over him and bother him. I thought to myself that my feelings would just be a waste of his time.

The week of his band performance and our presentation came. He still looks so handsome and perfect when he should be showing signs of stress and overwork. Their band practice would last until past midnight and he would allot at least an hour to work with me. I would sneak glances at his hands while I was typing and researching on the net. Sometimes, his hands would tremble from overwork. He would play the guitar for hours without rest. I could really see that he was tired. I would push him to just go home and rest since our report is almost finished but he would insist to stay in my room for at least an hour. Sometimes, he would nap on my beanbag for a few minutes then sneak back on the chair beside me to discuss our report.

Two days before their band performance, he unconsciously took a long nap on my beanbag. He was curled up like a cat, hugging his legs. He was so adorable like he could fit in my hands curled up like that. I noticed that my room was a bit cold so I took my blanket and placed it around him. As I was closing my distance from him, I heard him whisper my name so softly followed by a smile. My heart stopped and I stared at him. I wanted to caress his cheek. I was the only one to witness the cool Jimin from our campus curled up and vulnerable like this. Even if he wasn’t aware of my romantic feelings towards him, I was content with this distance. He is way out of my league. What would a cool and popular guy want from a normal college girl like me? Then I realized that my hand moved on its own and was now on Jimin’s soft and warm cheeks. I swiftly pulled my hand away and quietly walked back to my desktop.

It was not a surprise that their performance went on without a hitch and they became the talk of the campus. It was funny because Jungkook became a campus favorite as well. It was so funny to see that Jungkook would have eyes follow him wherever he would go. Girls loved his voice during the performance, screaming his name that night. All of them in the band became celebrities around the campus. Despite being the guitarist, Jimin also sang small parts in their songs and belted out high notes. I stayed at the far most corner and watched their whole performance that night. Jimin kept on searching through the crowd the whole night and there was a moment when I caught him connecting his gaze with me. His face lit up like a Christmas tree. You might even think that he was searching for me and was so glad to spot me at the back of the audience. I wish that was the case but there’s nothing bad in imagining it.

Our report was also commended by our professors, even getting praises from our fellow classmates. I was so proud of Jimin that he was able to achieve all of these achievements that week. I saw his hard work and dedication in all that he does. It makes me laugh that I had this former impression from him that he was just a typical popular guy who has no interest in anything but girls and vanity. Well, he really takes good care of himself and how he presents himself so I guess I could call him a bit vain.

The week after our report and their performance, he would still make small talks with me even outside our class. The band also frequently hangs out at our house, which made my college life a bit more chaotic but fun.

During our junior year, we barely had any class together and our schedules don’t match. I would just see him whenever he would visit my brother at home along with his other bandmates. We would occasionally eat together but only when my brother and his bandmates would push their way in my peaceful lunch time. He would sit beside me though, making my inner self very glad. I would, however, make sure that I was not so close to him since I was aware of the eyes of other girls behind him. He would show me a frown every time I would do this but I don’t want to overstep my boundaries. I don’t want him to know how I feel.

Our junior year went on like this. Not much interaction around the campus but I would be excited whenever we would be in the same place outside of school. I grew closer with their other bandmates, especially with Hoseok and Namjoon. The two of them were a year ahead of us and they both became my older brothers in a way. Hoseok would always know what to do to cheer me up and Namjoon would give me the best advices on everything. Although Namjoon is one year older than me, sometimes I feel like I’m the one taking care of him since he’s always clumsy. Whenever Hoseok is not free to offer a ride to Namjoon, he would always text me to accompany him somewhere. I share the same sentiment with Hoseok and the other members in the band that Namjoon shouldn’t ever drive for the sake of world peace.

As months go by, I grew a lot closer with those two than Jimin. We became a bit distant and Jimin would turn silent or timid whenever we would be in the same place. A few exchanges but the tension between us grew bigger. I don’t even know if he hates me, doesn’t want my company or just plain indifference. I couldn’t read him nowadays. Maybe we grew to be different people and I was just lucky that I was his partner for that one specific class report or I was just his bandmate’s sister. That’s it.

Now, we’re in the middle of our Senior Year. Hoseok and Namjoon have already graduated. Namjoon went away to live in another city to work while Hoseok stayed around here to work as an intern at a local subsidiary company of a renowned music label. Hoseok would sometimes visit Jungkook here at home with Jimin and Taehyung or he would ask us, sometimes including me, to visit him at home.

My friendship with Jimin got a little better this year compared to our junior year. Since the band is not active anymore, the three remaining boys relied on each other more. Taehyung would always barge in our house, sometimes un-announced, but not always alone. He would always come by at our house with Jimin. The both of them adore my brother too much to the point that they look miserable when separated from my brother, despite being older.

…..

“What movie do you guys want to choose in Netflix?” Taehyung occupied the far most left spot on the couch in the living room. I was still in the kitchen getting two slices of pepperoni pizza for myself and my brother. Jungkook was standing beside me, waiting patiently for his pizza. I handed him his plate and he quickly walked away to the living room. As he disappears from the kitchen, Jimin appeared. He stretched out his arm to reach for the other pizza box. Once more, the air in the kitchen became heavy.

“I’m glad you’re with my brother. He really needs the company.” Jungkook was just dumped by his girlfriend a week ago. I tried to start up a conversation with Jimin as I couldn’t take the heavy tension in the air.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, we’re here for him.” He closes the pizza box as soon as he pulls out a slice. “…as we are for you. Don’t forget that.” I looked at him and as I was about to say something when my phone’s screen lights up from beside the pizza box. Jimin also looks at my phone.

“Hoseok’s calling me. I should… answer.”

Honestly, I was taken aback from what Jimin said then I began to wonder when did we became this awkward with each other. No matter how much I try to remove the heavy air, it always just comes back up. “Yes?” I answer the call and saw Jimin turning towards the living room. He proceeds to sit in the middle of the couch.

“Y/N!!!!!!” I was greeted with a cheerful shout from Hoseok. “Are you coming to my party tomorrow?”

 “Jimin, do you want some fried chicken?” Taehyung calls for Jimin as he offers his plate. Jimin took one chicken from Taehyung’s plate. “Who is she talking to?” Taehyung points.

“Hoseok-hyung.” Jimin’s eyes still glued to the screen as Jungkook chooses a movie.

Taehyung smirks but quickly erases it from his face when Jimin looks at him. “Hey, do you know that Hoseok-hyung plans to confess to y/n tomorrow?” he whispered and nudges Jungkook who sits between him and Jimin.

Jungkook almost choked on a small piece of pizza that he was eating. “HOSEOK-HYUNG?!”

“Yeah. He called me last night to ask me to at least convince y/n to come to the party. You know how she is with new crowds. He wanted me to make sure that she will come to the party tomorrow.” Taehyung looks at his friend. Jimin was frozen in his place, silent and taken aback.

“I didn’t even know that hyung likes my sister. Wait, eww! He likes my sister. Her?” Jungkook exclaims quietly. Taehyung shushed him and knocks his head. “I’m just joking but seriously? I didn’t even realize.”

“Am I the only one around here who pays a lot of attention to their friends?” Taehyung chuckles as he takes a bite on his chicken.

“Who pays attention to whom?” I noticed Taehyung and Jungkook were laughing and causing a ruckus as I walk towards the living room. I stopped behind the couch as I barely hear what Taehyung just said.

“Nothing. I’m just a good friend to everyone.” Taehyung flashes his adorable good boy smile towards me with his eyes squinted. I giggled.

I sat on the far most right spot on the couch beside Jimin. Jungkook chose Love, Rosie and I turned, in confusion, to look at Taehyung and Jimin’s reaction at Jungkook’s odd choice for our movie night. However, they just stayed quiet as the intro scene plays out. Normally, they would bicker on what movie to play but I guess they’re refraining on doing that today since my brother needs to soothe his heart. I would admit that watching a romantic film with my brother and male friends normally warrants a confused expression from anyone but somehow, this is now our normal situation. It just warms my heart thinking that my brother has got some good friends.

…..

I honestly don’t know what dress I should wear tonight. In the back of my mind, I slightly want to look good in front of Jimin. I barely dress up or even come to a party with him. I’m also kind of tired with our current dynamic. I want to get our old dynamic back. I just want to laugh at his jokes and see him dork off. I want to ease myself around him without getting tongue tied.

I nearly tried on all the dresses that I owned. My bedroom is a mess at this point. I tossed some of the dresses on the bed while a few were on my chair. After an hour, I was satisfied on wearing my trusty red dress. Hoseok told me that some of his friends from work are present in the party and I want to look at least presentable. This is not just your normal college party where everyone would get wrecked and drunk.

I gawked at myself through the mirror. The scarlet red dress hugging the right parts of my body. I could feel fire while I stare at the figure-flattering dress on me. The way the short sleeve hugs my arm and puffs ever so slightly above the cuff up until my shoulder. I trailed my hands along the neckline. I like how it plunges just enough for a peek of my soft twins but still gives off a classy and demure impression. It gives off enough allure but not too much without looking over the top. The skirt, hugging my behind, tapers off just around my mid-thigh elegantly emphasizing my curves. I paired it with an almost-beige beret. I’m going all out here. I want Jimin to notice me and maybe, just maybe, he’ll look at me differently now.

“You look nice. Different.” Jungkook stood at my door. I turned around, alerted at his presence. He was smiling while leaning against the door.

“Really?” I shyly twirled around. I have always trusted Jungkook’s taste in fashion. If he deems my dress presentable then I’m satisfied with it.

“Taehyung’s car is already parked out front. Jimin’s downstairs waiting for you.” My heart jumped a beat from hearing his name. Jungkook walked away from the door. I hurriedly placed my trusty charm bracelet around my wrist and collected my bag from the bed. I slowly shuffle down the stairs.

I slowly noticed Jimin’s silhouette come into view as I go down the steps. He was looking out the door, talking to Taehyung who was leaning against his car out on the street. I was about mid-way down the stairs when Taehyung pointed at me to call Jimin’s attention. Jimin turns around and was obviously taken aback by what he was seeing. I unconsciously fix my posture and the way I tread down. He looking straight at me. I could feel a small ember lit up inside my chest but I was determined to catch his attention. As I put my foot down on the last step, I slightly wobble almost slipping. I quickly reach my hand out on the railing to catch myself. I saw Jimin surprised and shuffling away from the door, as if to try and catch me but stopped when I did save myself from falling.

I wanted to scream in embarrassment but I stayed indifferent. I just continued to smile until I stood a few inches away from Jimin. He was still staring at me, shyly checking me out. He looks rather ravishing tonight as well. He was clad in a white long sleeved button-down shirt tucked in his black sleek pants paired with a classic black belt. His black hair flowing across his forehead. Simple but so Jimin-like. Just the way I like it.

“You look beautiful.” Jimin smiled. I could feel my cheeks burning from his compliment. Much to my chagrin, this small compliment completely erased my inner humiliation from a while ago.

“Thank you. You look nice as well.” I beamed back at him.

We both walked out the door and to Taehyung’s car. Taehyung complimented on my outfit as well. I teased him that his outfit was the only one making his appearance work. The three of us laughed and entered the car. Jungkook soon followed.

I thought I was going to squeeze out at least a conversation from Jimin but he stayed somewhat silent throughout the drive to Hoseok’s. Taehyung was talking to me while peeking from the rearview mirror as I sat behind with Jungkook. Jimin sat in front, making small conversation but he didn’t even stole some glances towards my direction.

We finally arrived at Hoseok’s. The four of us wading through the crowd to look for the host of the party.

“Guys!” A scream came from ahead of us, hidden behind the crowd. We immediately recognize who it is. “I missed you guys!” Hoseok came running, hugging all of us. I almost panicked at the sudden contact and looked for Jimin. I’m glad he was not beside or else, my chest would be buried across his arms. Instead, Jungkook was the recipient of this dreaded moment. Luckily, I pushed the thought aside since it’s just my brother.

“Hyung, we missed you.” Taehyung frowns and hugs Hoseok. He hugs Taehyung back.

“I heard the baby of the group got dumped.” Hoseok releases Taehyung from his arms and looks at Jungkook. Jungkook shyly laughs and hugs Hoseok as well.

“I missed you as well, hyung.” Jungkook lightly punches Hoseok’s arm as a joke. Hoseok does this complex handshake with Jimin from behind Jungkook as my brother is still wrapped around Hoseok’s body. Hoseok finally turns his eyes to me. He smiles and releases my brother.

“Look at you. I haven’t seen you in two months and here you are, looking so wonderful tonight.” He twirled me around, getting giggles from Jungkook and Taehyung. “Is it for me?” I jokingly hit Hoseok’s arm.

“This is a nice party. I gotta look okay so as not to embarrass you.” I swear I could feel Jimin’s stare from my peripheral vision as Hoseok continues to compliment me.

“I have to introduce you all to my workmates.” Hoseok pulls my hand to lead the four of us to the living room. The three boys followed the two of us. He stops just before two men. He calls them out and the two men turns to us. “Guys, these are my college bandmates that I was talking about.” I stood aside as he reaches his out towards Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook.

“Nice to meet you.” Jungkook respectfully bows and shakes the two men’s hand. The three of them take their turns in introducing themselves to the two men.

“Guys, these are Yoongi and Seokjin. Yoongi is a producer while Seokjin is an aspiring artist soon to debut under our label.” The three of them bowing once more, as well as myself.

“Who is this beautiful lady beside you?” They all turned to look at me as Seokjin turns the attention to me. I smiled and shyly bowed.

“I’m Y/N. Jungkook’s brother and I suppose you could say I was appointed as their manager when they were still active as a band.”

“So you’re Y/N? I heard a lot about you from Hoseok. He used to…” Hoseok quickly nudges Seokjin’s side and laughed. Seokjin stopped and just giggled.

“I heard a few of your songs. It was amazing.” Yoongi slips in. Taehyung and Jimin beamed at Yoongi. They were now starting to talk about music. Not that I don’t care about it but I don’t understand the technical part of it. I silently excused myself out from their conversation, not telling anyone from the group that I walked away.

I make my way to the mini bar. I could really use a drink and honestly, a time out from the boys. This dress should be making Jimin notice me but I guess I don’t have enough charm. With slight frustration comes a bravery to order two cocktail right away. As I wait for my drinks, I look around the party. I recognize some of the guests but I guess a few of them would be Hoseok’s acquaintances. I’m not much of a party person but it turned out that I only enjoy going to one when I’m with the boys.

“Why are you alone?” I heard a voice from behind me. I turned around and saw Jimin walking towards the bar. He stood beside me, leaning his arms on the bar stool.

“You guys were talking about music and I’m honest that I don’t understand a lot of it so I went to the bar. Also, I figured that I needed a drink.” Because of you but I can’t tell him that.

“Well then, you’re not drinking alone.” He proceeded to order his drink. While he was turned towards the bartender, I nervously fixed my dress and my posture. I slightly puffed out my chest and bent my waist, leaning on the bar stool. “So… there’s something we need to talk about.” I nervously stood straight from his words.

“Okay… What is it?” As of this moment, I felt like I was treading on thin ice. I couldn’t hear the blasting music from the party and the chatter from everyone else here. He was fiddling with his hands, which got me thinking that maybe it got something to do with me. I’m so nervous on what he was about to say.

“Uhhh…. Jungkook, Taehyung and I were planning to perform again at the Gala night.” Okay. I got my hopes up for nothing. “We’re in a slump trying to write a song. The organizers told us that we should at least perform one song about Love. Jungkook was our main songwriter but he told us that he doesn’t want to. We understand why he doesn’t want to but Taehyung and I are really doing our best. We just couldn’t come up with good lyrics.”

“Wait, why are you telling me this? Don’t tell me…”

“We need your help. I need your help.” He stared at me. “You and Namjoon-hyung worked together on one of our songs and it was a hit. Maybe you could do it again this time?”

“Yeah, but that was a song about hardships of youth. I just included my real thoughts into the songs. I guess that’s why the lyrics came easy to me. Besides, most of the lyrics came from Namjoon.” Jimin held my hand, which surprised me. He did his puppy eyes and silently begged me. I could see him grinning and tilting his head. It’s funny because the way he looks right now, it’s like we’re back to normal again. I smiled as I was amused by Jimin’s antics.

“You could try to include your real thoughts through the lyrics. Tae and I will help but we figured that we need another set of brains. We don’t want to make a song just for the sake of performing on the Gala night. We really want to make it good.” I could feel Jimin’s passion for music flowing out of him right now. This was one of the reason why I grew to like him a lot. He gives his all on whatever he does.

“Okay but trust me, I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time. My input might not be helpful.” I giggled.

“That’s okay. Neither have I.”

“Really? I thought…” Before I get to finish my sentence, the bartender gives out our drinks. Two for me and one for Jimin. He saw the two glasses I pulled from the bartender’s hands and chuckled.

“Going all out?” He asked, laughing while trying to cover his mouth.

“I told you I really needed a drink.” Even before I got a sip on my liquid courage, I’m glad we’re having this conversation and it’s going pretty smoothly.

“You want to sit over there?” Jimin pointed out a small couch just outside the reception area and beside the swimming pool. I nodded and followed him. We make our way out through the crowd and out the living room towards the pool area. He let me sit on the couch first and sat beside me. I placed my other drink on the small coffee table in front us while I sip on my drink that was in my other hand.

“I can’t remember correctly when the Gala Night would be. Is that… two weeks before our graduation?” I closed my eyes as I try to remember the significant dates.

“Yeah. I guess the Gala night would be… a month from now.” He casually sipped on his drink.

“Oh wow. That fast huh? We’re about to graduate from College.” I looked at him as I try to savor those words. Graduation. When we graduate, I won’t see him around and Taehyung. Jungkook would still be in college as a senior. Thinking about it just makes me sad.

“Wait, what are you going to ask me just before the bartender gave out the drinks?” he asks.

“Oh. I’m just surprised that you haven’t been in a relationship in a long time. I thought that with the abundance of choices around you, you might have your eyes on somebody already. ” We both sipped from our glasses. His gaze lingered on the floor for a second while sipping on his drink before he replied.

“I do actually.” I choked on my drink. “But I don’t think it’s the right time for the both of us. She might not even be attracted to me.” Jimin’s face is now somber.

“Who wouldn’t be attracted to you? Look at you, you’re plenty attractive.” Well, I am but that doesn’t erase the fact the he likes somebody already. He might even be courting her already. I finished my first drink and reached for my second.

Jimin stayed with me until I finish my two drinks. We talked about almost everything and you’ll wonder why we even became awkward in the first place. My heart was jumping all around the whole time we were chatting up. I was conscious if I smelled good or if I still look good. Taehyung gave us another round of drinks and went back inside to chat with Yoongi and Seokjin once more. I wanted my nerves to take a break so I asked Jimin to get me another drink from the bar. He stood up and left me on the couch. As soon as he was out of my sight, I slumped back on the couch.

Normally, I wouldn’t be this nervous talking to any boy. It’s not like I’m a stranger to love. I have one ex-boyfriend and that relationship ended on bad terms. That was in high school and ever since then, I haven’t fallen in love with anyone. Not since Jimin came barging into my life. It was really a push and pull situation ever since then.

“Hey miss. Can I seat beside you?” I heard a male voice coming from my side. I was still slumped back on the couch with eyes closed. I sat up properly and saw a stranger with two drinks in his hand.

“This seat is actually taken. He’s just getting our drinks.” I placed my hand on the space beside me so as to show him that I am not interested in his company.

“But no one is seating there right now.” He proceeded to seat beside me, disregarding my hand that he almost sat on it. “You can have my other drink instead.” He gives his other drink out to my hand. I inched myself away from this guy who’s beginning to irritate me.

“No thanks. My friend would be here soon.” I placed the drink that he handed me on the table. I got a whiff of this stranger’s scent and he smelled strongly of alcohol. Shoot. This guy is very intoxicated.

“Come on. I’m lonely. Can’t you entertain me at least while your friend is not here yet?” I was looking at his face while I wiggled away to the far side of my part of the couch. I didn’t realize that he started wrapping his hands on my thighs. I was shocked by the coldness of his hands and a shiver went down to my spine. I couldn’t think of any words and my hands started to tremble.

When I was about to push his hands away, I was shocked when somebody pulled the stranger off the couch. I looked up and saw a very furious Hoseok holding the stranger by the collar. He pushed the man off and shouted something out. I couldn’t really hear anything clearly right now but I was sure when Hoseok kneeled down in front of me and talked to me.

I looked around and everyone’s attention was now on us. It didn’t register to me yet at how Hoseok shouted at the man must’ve been really loud to get the attention of even the people on the second floor. Some of them were peeking their heads out the balcony overlooking the pool and garden.

“Hey, are you okay? He didn’t try to touch you anywhere?” Hoseok was kneeling down in front me, placing his jacket on my lap.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Everyone was still murmuring and looking at us. I was even more bashful at the amount of attention we’re getting now. Suddenly, my attention went to Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook who were standing feet away from us. Jimin’s face looked so gloomy watching Hoseok and I while Taehyung and Jungkook were visibly arguing with the stranger who just took advantage of me.

“No you’re not. I’ll drive you home.” Hoseok took my hand and stood up.

“Jimin or Taehyung can drive me home. I came here with them.” I followed suit and stood up with Hoseok’s jacket still in my hands placed on my thighs.

“Those two drank. They can sleep here tonight.” A tone so stern came from Hoseok that I wasn’t even familiar with this kind of composure from him. He pulled my hand as we wade through the crowd. We also passed by a stunned and upset Jimin. Taehyung and Jungkook just watched as Hoseok pulled me through the living room and out the house.

Hoseok was silent as we walk to his car. I entered his car first followed by Hoseok. He soon starts the car and pulled away from the driveway. I looked back at his house thinking that I might have lost another chance to fix things with Jimin. Hoseok was visibly irritated about something as he taps his fingers in rhythms on the steering wheel. I don’t dare to speak to Hoseok as I was more nervous now with how he is irritated at something.

After a 15 minute drive, he stopped his car in front of our house. He was not stepping out of the car, still looking visibly irritated with one hand on the wheel. I thought that this was my cue to go out of the car so I opened the door and exited the silence-filled car. I took a few steps towards our patio when I heard a loud sound from Hoseok’s car door. I turned around and he was rushing, still looking very irritated, around the car and… towards me? I prepared myself for a lecture from Hoseok at how I was not aware of my surroundings and why couldn’t I even ask for the guys’ help when I was obviously in a bad situation. I closed my eyes and prepared myself for an earful scolding from him but I was greeted by a tight hug.

I opened my eyes in confusion as he hugged me tightly. My chin was sitting on the crook of his neck and my arms were frozen at my side. He released me from his arms soon after and he gazed at me with an expression I’m not familiar with. It was not from anger but something soft.

“I like you, y/n.”

Next: pt. 2

[salty-ironstrange-shipper]

Could you maybe post a long-ass list of good ironstrange fics because at this point, there's nothing else to do and you seem like you have great taste

puppets on a string

Summary: Stephen Strange is a villain. But a hot one.

Words: 103,206 (incomplete)

This fic is courtesy of our very own @funkylittlebidiot​, so definitely give it a read!

Find a Way (to break the fall)

Summary: Stephen didn't think about it anymore. It had been buried deep beneath all the other shit he'd had to live through in the last couple of years and it didn't impact his day to day life in any way whatsoever. Until the day it does.

Words: 2,170

This one is short, but emotional and impactful. Warning for discussions of past rape/non-con.

The Brands We Carry

Summary: Tony Stark is almost thirteen years old when he gets ready to settle down to bed one early-early-morning and happens to look in the mirror on his childhood wall and catches sight of a circular brand on the skin above his heart.

“About fucking time,” Tony mutters, and goes to sleep without bothering to tell anybody he just cussed out a baby that’s only just crying its way into its new life somewhere on the planet.

The date is February 17, 1983. Happy birthday, whoever you are. Took you long enough.

Or: Tony Stark and Stephen Strange are soulmates. You'd think that would mean they would be perfect for each other right from the start, but it turns out that their soulbond is a long path of mutual distrust, dislike, and miscommunication. Just their luck.

Words: 10,497

I love a good soulmate au, and this is a good soulmate au. Very interesting look at both characters and also what happens if someone’s soulmate has  a not insignificant age gap (though they only meet in person for the first time as adults)

A Crown of Thorn and Shadows

Summary: Anthony Stark, King of Blood and Darkness, ruler of the Unseelie court, did not expect to find Prince Stephen Strange of the Seelie chained up in his torture chamber, cold iron being driven into his hands. Stephen Strange, a Seelie healer, never dreamed of finding himself in the court of nightmares, being cared for by the king that the Seelie called a monster. They must work together to find the traitors in two Faerie courts that have not spoken in over six hundred years and reclaim Stephen's memories before the courts descend into war once more.

Words: 58,465

Wonderful fantasy au, great worldbuilding and relationship buildup. Lots of fun.

Villain Stephen Strange and His Obsession with Tony Stark

Summary: Just a bunch of prompty oneshots that are partially based but 100% inspired by Tumblr IronStrange Posts. Rated T-M

Words: 1,029

Do I even have to explain it? This is just fun. 

Ten times outta nine, I’m a hand grenade

Summary: Though neither remembered that night, it turns out that Tony Stark and Stephen Strange had first encountered each other years earlier. Unfortunately, that might end up destroying the universe.

Words: 419,141

This is a loooooooooong boi. But oh, it’s a good one. Stephen and Tony basically go back in time, change the universe, and fall in love. It’s everything you could want from them. Complete with romance, angst, drama, and humor.

Where Severus Snape is hot, not a stalker, and somehow gets the girl

Summary: And then, as if he wasn’t already the most embarrassing estranged biological dad ever, Tony stopped in his tracks, raised his sunglasses (because of course he would wear sunglasses inside a lecture hall in April), and gave Professor Strange the most blatant, sustained once-over in the history of fuckboyness.

Then he put down his glasses, shot a winning smile at the teacher, and said, “Well, I’m Tony Stark, of course.”Or: Peter Parker is sick and wants to cut his Neuroscience class. Tony just wants to help (and maybe date his son's hot teacher). Stephen Strange just wants to give his lecture in peace.

Words: 2,387

Stephen is a college professor. Peter is his student. Tony is having too much fun with this.

You Remind Me of a Man

Summary: Tony Stark cannot stand the overly opinionated and egotistical Dr. Strange and the feeling is extremely mutual.

Words: 44,788

Perfect no-powers au for them. They’re assholes who fall in love and see another side to each other. It’s amazing, 10/10 would recommend.

I am here

Summary: There’s a technical reason Stephen must surrender the Time Stone to save Tony’s life. It has to be done, and that’s enough for him to do it. But just in case, the universe decides to give him a personal reason as well.

Words: 11,708

This one is so soft. Basically, while looking through time, Stephen keeps showing up in the past at various points throughout Tony’s life. And then they fall in love! Good for them.

T For Tony

Summary: Your soul mark is the first letter of your soulmate's name. Stephen has an 'A'. But he's in love with Tony. Cue anxiety, jealousy, angst.

Words: 2,794

They’re so stupid in this fic. It’s great. It took them so much effort to remember Anthony starts with an A. (I still think this fic should’ve been titled A For Tony, but I didn’t write it, so)

something taken, something new

Summary: The ChronicConnection implement and app allows a person that lives with chronic or illness-induced pain to transfer their burden temporarily to a willing loved one. Tony and Stephen sign up as beta testers.

Words: 14,541.

I must’ve recced this a thousand times ..... AND I’LL DO IT AGAIN. THIS FIC IS THE PERFECT MIXTURE OF SOFT AND ANGST AND IF YOU DON’T READ IT, YOU’RE WRONG.

15 Million

Summary: For every alternate reality there were ten thousand alternate realities from that. And from those ten thousand more. And then ten thousand more off each of those. And so it goes.

The Avengers win once. There’s ten thousand versions of it. 

Stephen Strange doesn’t know what to make of the fact that Tony Stark seems to be *his* victory.

Words: 2,755

Obligatory “Stephen looks through 15 million possible futures and falls in love with Tony in the process fic”. Can’t have a fic rec list without it.

Hero Swap AU

Summary: It's a boring day for the Avengers until Tony Stark attacks.

Words: 17,391.

Just pure, fun crack.

Only a Matter of Time

Summary: Captured by aliens, mistaken for a mating pair, Tony and Stephen find themselves having the universe’s most awkward honeymoon.

Words: 6,056.

Smut. Good smut, though. 

Sunrise in Exile

Summary: Tony does the math and realizes their best chance to save the universe is by... not confronting Thanos on his own turf. 

So he steals a wizard and a spider and a space ship. And he runs.

(Three humans and an A.I in space, the alien friendships they make along the way, and discovering how science and magic might coexist in a universe where they can be one and the same.)

Words: 352,079 (incomplete, has not been updated in a while)

A long fic set during Infinity War where they just ... run away to space. And it’s great.

Rewriting Icarus

Summary: Stephen and Tony, from the beginning to the end and beyond.

Words: 23,504

Pre-powers AU, except they fall in love then get powers. Sad, angsty, beautiful. 

variations on a theme

Summary: Stephen sees into millions of possibilities and finds only one where they win, but he never expected to end up falling in love with Tony Stark in almost every single one of them.

Words: 5,134

Another Stephen looks through the possible futures and falls in love with Tony? ... Guess you can’t have just one. 

Five’s A Party

Summary: It's an orgy fic, I'm not sure what else to say

Words: 2,639

... Not much I can add to that. Magic smut. 

A Lapse in Judgement

Summary: Stephen, the newly minted Sorcerer Supreme, is strong, powerful, and in control of his life in every micromanaged detail, because failure to do so could result in (another) cataclysmic event within the universe. He is. But then Stephen accepts an off-handed offer to spar from Tony Stark – a man who is Stephen’s non-magical equal, a man who Stephen barely sees outside of bi-weekly meetings and the few and far between fight against a villain – and Stark discovers Stephen’s biggest weakness, his most hateful secret that is a deeply fundamental part of Stephen’s psyche.

Except instead of judgement, and horror, and disgust, Stark meets him halfway, and a lapse in judgement turns into a possibility that could change their lives forever.

Words: 22,694

This is the first of a series which was just updated (haven’t finished reading the new part yet, looking forward to it) and is just a really good, surprisingly soft and emotional BDSM series/fic.

Ironstrange Fics and Ironstrange Cinematic Universe

Oh, how did these get here?

Yes, I’m reccing my own work. I’ve written 29 fics and 377,132 words for this ship, I think I’m entitled.

Ironstrange Fics is a collection of every ironstrange fic I’ve written, short, long, sweet, angst, and everything in between. Ironstrange Cinematic Universe (itself responsible for 49% of those 377k words) is my ironstrange rewrite of the MCU specifically. Please read, enjoy, and leave comments, I’m not updating any fics for a couple of weeks and I need the validation. 

[drinkurkombucha]

A list of my fics

Here’ s a list of my past/current fics. I’ll keep this updated as I keep writing. Also, got writing prompts? Throw them in my ask box. I love writing about these idiots, so feed me inspiration. Thanks.

Relinquish: Complete. (A sequel to Catharsis.) After the events of Catharsis, Matty is trying his best to adjust to his new normal. Then his day gets a little... complicated. [ READ HERE ]

******

Living with George: Complete. (The sequel to Talking to George that no one asked for. Stupid humour, angst and lols.) Time has passed since the events of Talking to George. Matty is no longer a struggling musician and things are going great for him (for once). His career is flourishing and things with George couldn’t be better. Life in 36C is almost perfect (bar Hann hogging the bathroom). But when Ross moves back in unexpectedly and talk turns to relationships, Matty realises that he needs more from George. A LOT more. There’s just one problem: George doesn’t seem too keen on the idea… [ READ HERE ]

******

Kairos: Complete. (Complete and utter smut. Gratty.) Matty reminds him of one of those people you spot walking down the street – the kind of people that stand out in a crowd. The kind of people that just glow. Because that’s the thing: well-fucked people glow differently. You can spot them a mile away. They emanate this energy of being so comfortable in their own skin that absolutely nothing can phase them. Ross wants what Matty and George have. Ross wants to glow... [ READ HERE ]

******

Apodyopsis: Complete. (A YNA/YFL short) It's just before Christmas and Matty has the perfect present planned for George. [ READ HERE ]

******

Give Yourself a Try: Complete. (A sequel of sorts to Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction. Complete and utter meta madness in collaboration with @vinylandcoffeecollection.) Matty and George never really saw themselves as consumers of Gatty fic, let alone celebrated covert Gatty writers on Ao3. But they’ve surprised themselves by how much they love writing about themselves (and re-enacting their favourite Gatty scenes in the bedroom, and the studio, and outside… ). The only problem is – nobody seems to be writing anything new for them to roleplay. After Matty has a very sexy, very autosexual dream one night, they decide to take matters into their own hands. How far can they push the boundaries of art and reality without their brains (and their bits) imploding in the process? [ READ HERE ]

******

Catharsis: Complete. (A Dom George short fic) George has a secret and Matty is obsessed. [READ HERE]

******

The Birthday Party Complete. (A smutty oneshot)

In an alternate timeline he is kissing you.

Matty is hiding from the crowds at a surprise party when he meets a stranger called George. [READ HERE]

******

Your Fractured Light: Complete. (Artist Matty returns, part 2 of 2.) It’s been two years since the events of Your New Aesthetic and things have changed for George. Like, really changed. A best-selling author, he’s just signed a three-book deal and he’s riding high on the success of his debut novel. Despite this, George is still struggling. He’s been trying hard to shake off the ghost of his last relationship, but when Matty makes a very unexpected appearance back in his life, George starts to realise that Matthew Healy is not someone you can just forget. [READ HERE]

******

Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction: Complete. (Ridiculously meta comedic relief.) When a piece of fanfiction randomly makes it way to Matty, he’s amused and has a laugh with the boys. But he can’t stop thinking about it and gradually he finds himself becoming more and more obsessed with thoughts of ‘Fictional George’ (especially when his cock gets involved in the situation). Starved for new reading material, he finds The 1975 section of a website called Archive of Our Own. Encouraged by the authors there (who have no idea who he really is), Matty starts to post his own writing. But why does someone keep leaving him nasty comments? And what happens when Matty slips up? [READ HERE]

******

Your New Aesthetic: Complete.  (George has a sexual awakening, part 1 of 2.) George lives a sad little life. He gets up, goes to work, comes home and falls asleep alone. Life is shit and he’s barely able to pay the bills to keep his bookshop open. Add to that a fuck ton of writer's block and it’s not surprising that he’s having a bit of an existential crisis. George has resigned himself to the fact that this is as good as it’s going to get when Matty, an eccentric stranger, crashes into his life. And then, just when things seem to be on the up for George, Matty drops a bombshell… [READ HERE]

******

Fixation: Complete. (A smutty one shot.) On a drunken night out, Matty decides to give up smoking. Just as he’s about to crack up, George offers him an effective new way to break the habit... [READ HERE]

******

Talking to George: Complete. (Comedic relief.) Matty is a struggling musician and his life is a chaotic mess. After getting kicked out of a nightmare flat share, he moves back in with his old school friends Ross and Adam and their new housemate – the handsome but mysterious George (who no one ever sees). It isn’t long before Matty starts to develop a bit of an unhealthy obsession… [READ HERE]

******

// MUSIC FOR CARS //: Complete (Gatty through the ages.)  My back was to the door, but I knew it was him. How did I know? My heart immediately began to beat faster and the hair stood up on my arms. Goosebumps spread across my skin. I had never been able to ignore his presence – Matty was always a full-body reaction. [READ HERE]

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

Young Gods (Mandalorian AU)

Pairing: Sin!Din (or OOC just in case) x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral (m &f), Fingering, Light choking, Daddy kink, Thigh riding, Rough sex, Soft sex, Use of a safeword, Drug/Alcohol use, Violence, Guns/blood, Mentions of death, Mentions of police (not heavy), Language, Fluff, Barely there angst. (if I’m missing any I apologize)

Word Count: 12K+

Summary: Taken in by the Guild in the rough part of the city, you quickly meet Din Djarin, the best of the best. Who knew of the path it would lead you to?

A/N: The warnings did change from the preview, that’s always a given. I was going to make this fic a little darker but got carried away with it, but I’m willing to write oneshots off this because I simply love it. Also HUGE thanks to @ben-is-a-hoe​ for their unwavering patience for their request, you rock

***

You never knew your parents. Your biological ones, anyway. 

Lila and Billy took you in at a young age, raised and treated you as their own. Life was good with them, and they were amazing parents; you loved them, always had a good relationship with them but you just… fell into the wrong crowd. 

It didn’t take long for the fallout. The screaming matches when you came back home in the middle of the night, sometimes in cuffs or other times wasted with the new necklace you managed to snag. They kicked you out when it became too much and really, you don’t blame them. Not at all. 

From then on you jumped from group to group, big and small, did the jobs, and left. You never stayed, not for long, no matter what; they could never hold you down. 

So when Greef Karga found you pocketing the screamers and betters of cage matches down in Sorgan and asked you to join his Guild, you said yes on the spot.   

Bounty hunters. Mercenaries. Thieves. 

Call them what you like, they just got the job done. With good pay.

They reside in one of the most dangerous parts of the city, hidden in the shadows of the deep underground, in a warehouse that’s not too noticeable or colorful. Nervarro is pleasing to the eye day and night, if you turn away from the horrors that coincide within. That’s the trick, how it drags you into its claws.

That’s how you’re about to meet ‘Target Practice’ Din Djarin, infamous for his name from a well known joke after a job well done. 

“Tell them, tell them what you said after the state of that guy.”

“Tell them how you always get the job done.”

“Tell them the joke man.”

“What’d you say? To that guy right before…”

“Target practice.”

Though he doesn’t have a big name (yet), word still travels around about the Guild’s best bounty hunter, rarely seen without the signature leather jacket that signifies the kind of group you’re in; his signet is printed proud and big on the back of it. 

“Yeah Din Djarin, you know, the guy who fucked up Ran’s group. Took them all out like it was nothing.”

He’s dangerous. Ruthless. Punk. Traveler. 

You wonder if you’ll be here long enough to add more to the list. 

“Relax, kid,” Greef pats you on the back. 

You hadn’t realized your anxiety was showing. Why are you nervous? This isn’t your first time meeting someone equally dangerous, and he is going to be your new partner, after all. 

Because sometimes he comes back with trickles of blood on his knuckles. 

“Ah, and there he is!” 

Din come’s strolling in like he owns the place, with, of course, that jacket, skinny jeans and (biker?) boots; he oozes swagger and confidence, the kind that can really irk a person. And what kinda makes it worse is that he’s handsome as fuck, too, even in the punkish get out. Dark, floofy curls that match the intensity of his eyes—and his outfit—plump, chapped lips with a curl, crooked nose and tan skin; he’s beautiful in your eyes, but you are not going to admit that. 

“Din, this is the new recruit. She doesn’t know much now, but she’s got a lot of spitfire and eagerness to make up for it. Set her up, make sure she’s comfortable, then get to work.” Greef nods at the both of you and walks away. 

Oh, great. 

“H-hi,” you clear your throat. Pull yourself together! You tell him your name and stick your hand out. 

Dark chocolate brown eyes glimpse once at your hand before he shakes it; firmly and short, with no smile or offered greeting in return. You expected as much. 

“Start off by telling me what you know first.” 

His voice. Oh his voice is light with age but deep and gruff; it could melt you and put you to sleep. 

“Well I can pick locks, and I’m pretty okay at stealing.” That sounds so pathetic compared to this batch. 

“Hand-to-hand it is today. Follow me.” 

You follow him around the warehouse—a big, comfy warehouse you’re finding out—and he leads you to what you can automatically tell is the gym; or training room, you should say. He walks around the mat in the middle of the room, and throws a set of keys inside what you assume is an office and shuts the door with a click. 

“Before we do that, I want you to show me your skills,” he instructs. “Karga is cheap, and so is about everyone else here. They’re not going to be happy if they cannot get into their office, or if they have to break the door down to get in. So prevent that from happening, newbie.”

Newbie?

“Newbie?” You repeat. “What are we in, middle school?”

You could’ve sworn his lips just twitched there, but he quickly shakes his head and huffs, leaning against the wall next to the door with his arms crossed. 

He doesn’t say anything, and you realize that he’s waiting for you, so you kneel down and take your pins out of your pocket—a habit to always, always have them in hand. 

You twist your wrists carefully, listening for little clicks and ticks, until it lets out one more loud one and swings open under your pressure; he had to have known it was an easy one, so when you stand up and look at him, he looks unbothered and unimpressed. 

“Good,” he pushes himself off and shrugs his jacket off, throwing it on a chair nearby. He’s wearing a short, black sleeve shirt underneath, with jeans on, too. So are you. 

“Should we change into something more comfortable or?” You ask awkwardly. 

He ignores you again and climbs in between the ropes of the ring. You sigh and climb in, thanking the Maker you didn’t fall or get tangled; it’s a lot harder than it looks, okay?

“Okay, now wh—”

Your feet sweep out from under you. It all happens so quickly, you don’t even know what hit you and you’re falling straight on your back on the hard, wooden mat. A gust of wind leaves your chest in huffs, your back arching and stinging under the assault. 

“What the—ow, fuck—what the fuck was that?” You wince as you help yourself up, rather pathetically if you ask but you just got your ass handed to you in the simplest way. 

“You need to be aware of your surroundings” Din says, not in a gloating way as you suspect most of the others would show towards the new people, but in a way that’s instructional and you internally thank him graciously for it. “Doing these jobs, being a part of our group, it means you have to be alert at all times. Understand?” You nod. “Good. Let’s go again.”

“Okay,” you take a deep breath, bouncing on your feet. He puffs his chest out a little—he’s got a slim but muscular build, not by much but you know it’s there—and you clench your fists, readying them in a defensive stance. 

“Good, you know that much.” 

It’s so sarcastic you want to punch him. 

So that’s what you try doing by lunging at him, hoping to catch him off guard—and hey, on the first day too? You can use that—but next thing you know his wrist wraps around your closed fist and twists. 

“OW!” You howl, straining under the pressure; he twists your arm just a little deeper, making you flinch in return. 

Pine, you smell pine, leather, and… you think that may be gunpowder. 

“Don’t be so predictable,” he says, barely there whispers of his breath hitting your neck. You hope he doesn’t feel the shiver that just went through you. “Trying to catch someone by surprise can be good, if you know the right way to do it.” He finally lets you go and you sigh in relief as you clutch your arm to your chest. “We can stop for today, if you want.”

You want to say yes in the worst way, already so done after feeling like your arm was about to be ripped out of its socket, but you also don’t want to seem like you can’t handle it on the first day.

“No, I can keep going,” you tell him confidently. 

He takes you down again and again, and when you’re eventually shown to your room, you pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow with a very, very sore and beaten body.

The smell of pine is faintly stuck on your pillow, and when you wake up, you think about that one curl on the top of his head that twirls almost down to his eyes.  

***

Din trains you endlessly for weeks and weeks and weeks until you start showing progress. 

The fighting is actually easy once you get the hang of it, and you’re proud to say that you’ve knocked the man off his feet once or twice.

What’s frustrating though is that, for being your new partner, he barely talks to you at all. Sure, when it’s during training or about jobs he will, but other than that he makes no attempts on at least getting to know you. It pisses you off when you see him trailing behind his small group of friends, a whiff of smoke that smells green airing off them, laughing up a storm with them. 

And what’s worse is that you’re not sure why you’re so hurt and frustrated by this. It’s not like you were supposed to be friends or anything. That was usually your number one rule. 

It’s the dreams, you think. It’s the smell of pine and leather and powder that’s specifically Din. It’s imaging what his cock would feel like pounding into you. It’s watching silently from afar, trying to piece the enigma of a man out; the puzzle. 

It’s when you catch him glancing away from you when you turn to him, whether that be during training or across the room during a meeting or that one time, when you got caught in the rain and ran up to your room, drenched and shivering, and you accidentally ran into him in the middle of the hallway. 

“I’m sorry!” You scrambled in his arms. 

His warm, very warm, strong arms. 

You looked up, waiting for him to let you go, but his arms stayed wrapped around you. When you looked up to say something—hey, there’s a puddle starting to form at my feet and I’m sure you don’t want damp clothes for the rest of the night, wherever you’re going—you didn’t miss the way his eyes sought after the beads of water that was trailing down your face and chest, or the way he quickly licked his lips when they slipped underneath your shirt.   

It made you shiver in a different way and he noticed.

Finally he seemed to shake himself out of his daze and backed away from you like you lit him on fire; perhaps in a way, you did.     

It’s when you find yourself studying him; when he’s eating lunch alone, when he’s leaning against a corner of a wall in whatever room you may be in, watching everyone else. When he never turns down a job and always usually comes back successful and you feel glad. 

And especially when, in the middle of training, he’ll press up extra close to you, letting you feel the hard (soft) planes of his body, or when his hands linger longer than they should on your knees when helping you stretch. 

It’s like this building tension between you that’s so thick you’d need a machete to cut through it.

But other than that, you can’t complain. 

“C’mon tough guy,” you mock, bouncing on your feet on the mat. 

Din stands up, rubbing his neck in a wince and throws you a dirty look. 

“Don’t be an asshole,” he mumbles.

“I’m not,” you say defensibly. He leans on one of the ropes, lifting it up. “Oh come on really?” You pout, stomping towards him. “I barely lifted you up and you’re acting like a chi—I–ILD!”

You scramble and flail like a chicken with its head cut off as you fall, barely able to blink before you’re flat on your back. You groan in pain with what little strength just left your body—it’s really not that bad because he took most of your fall with his—

Holy shit you didn’t realize he was practically laying on top of you. 

His breathing is even compared to yours, with his hands wrapped around your head and lower back, preventing you from being seriously hurt; the tip of his nose is touching yours and, today, you can smell the Melioorun on his breath. 

This feels like one of the most awkward and hottest moments of your life. You don’t move, don’t speak or breathe, and one day you’ll have to ask him how he always stays so fucking calm when it feels like you’re about to explode any second now. 

Should you move? Just bite the bullet and risk it all?

His warmth leaves you just as quickly as it happened in the first place and holds his hand out. You stare at it dumbly for probably too long and take it; it doesn’t help when his hand flexes in yours. 

“Guess I deserved that,” you say sheepishly. 

It’s hard to decipher what he’s thinking about. His expression is unreadable to you and he’s characteristically quiet as always—so, what’s new, really?

“You start a new lesson tomorrow.” He says, and walks away just as you’re about to ask what it is. 

That night it’s the juice and his arms you come to. 

Does he know?

Now, you’re assigned to Omera, a very kind woman, who is going to teach you on how to shoot. You hear it’s not hard to figure out. 

“Hi!” She greets warmly in a hug. “It’s very nice to finally meet Din’s new partner.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Don’t think he likes me very much.”

“Oh he’s like that with every new person he meets,” she assures you gently while setting up the targets. Target Practice. “I wouldn’t take offense to it. Just need to give him some time.”

“Right,” you nod absently.

“Here.” She hands you a pair of sound cancelling headphones. “Put this on and grab the gun when you’re ready.”

Your heart beats a little faster when the cool heavy weight of the pistol touches your skin. Omera shows you the proper stance and how to set your sights, and lets you try your first shot on your own; the kickback is small, and the thrill is accelerating. 

“Wow okay,” you laugh, setting the gun down very gently and taking the headphones off. She joins you, probably knowing the kind of high you’re feeling right now. 

“It takes a little bit of time to get used to,” she explains. “But you take your time with this. Better safe than sorry, right?”

You wanna be as good as ‘Target Practice’ Din Djairn?

“Right.” You nod.  

This lesson is longer than Din’s regular, but considering, it’s nothing but fair. When it’s over and you go out to eat, you’re surprised to see the man that’s been pestering your thoughts just about everyday, sitting at the bar with a cold drink in his hands; alone. 

Your palms start to slicken with sweat. Should you go over there? Just casually sit down like you didn’t even notice he was there? Was it really worth such a bother in the first place?

Your heart thuds in your ears as your body decides that, yes, it was time to make a move; he was your fucking partner for Maker’s sake. 

“Hey,” you greet normally—just like you didn’t notice he was there.

He looks up at you in surprise, clutching the glass in his hand tighter. He scowls and that makes you feel so small under his gaze. You should’ve just walked away. 

“What’re you doing here?” He asks annoyingly. 

Okay, now you’re just as annoyed as he is. “Why are you always such a dick to me, huh?” You demand quietly to not make a scene. “I barely know you and you act like I pissed in your drink.”

He snorts, looking in front of him now. “You didn’t do anything,” he sighs. You listen intently. “I just… look, right now this is just about work, alright? I don’t need anyone or anything distracting me.”

You roll your eyes in mild disgust. “Oh please, stop acting like the world revolves around you. There’s nothing wrong with at least being civil with the people you’re working with, no matter how much you don’t like them, and quite frankly, I don’t like being treated like shit for something I didn’t even do.”

Din turns back to you, staring at you with those intense eyes, not giving you the slightest hint of what he can be thinking about right now. It makes you not only nervous, but giddy, too; it’s enough for a small pool or arousal to flare between your legs. 

Finally he takes a large gulp of his drink, setting the empty glass down with a slam. “You’re right.” You gleam. “Tomorrow. You think you’re ready for your first job?”

On a whim, you say yes. He nods and reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, slapping a handful of credits on the bar; the bartender reaches over to take it. 

“It covers her tab, as well,” Din tells him. 

You stare off in shock as he walks out of the bar.

***

Okay. Your first job. A simple, easy job. 

And you’re stuck in a small ass closet with a man who smells so fucking good and is currently pressed tightly against you, watching through the blinds for our quarry to come. 

It’s been at least an hour of this. 

Now the whole reason as to why you’re in a closet, is well, people. This man must love handing his keys out to his friends—or family, you don’t give a shit—and you were nearly caught twice before Din decided it was best to wait it out by hiding.      

You feel okay, that’s not what the problem is—you mean, you would really love it if you didn’t have to stand in a small space for seemingly hours now—but that’s not all that’s getting to you. 

It’s the man directly next to you that keeps bumping his hand against your thigh, so very close to your ass, and while most of it is accidental, you think that the other bumps are not. The warmth of his body is also quite distracting. Your mind starts flowing between images of what it may look like if he ever fucks you and what might happen when the quarry walks through that door.

“Stop moving,” he growls. Your leg hits the space between his, luckily lightly enough that it doesn’t sting but he grabs your shoulder to stop you. 

You can’t help but squirm again. “I’m sorry, this is just—hprm—uncomfortable.”

Din sighs and looks back through the blinds. “It could be another hour before he comes, so please just stop. Moving.”

You give him the best glare you can muster, and give him the finger since you’re at it. 

Another minute goes by. Tick tock. Maker it’s too hot for this. You didn’t sign up for this shit. You should be out there stealing something or picking locks like you were picked to, not stuck in this closet. Not with the Din Djarin, who can’t even grumble an ‘hi’ to you most days. 

Is it always going to be like this until you leave? Will Din still come to you, then, in your dreams, with honey dripping from his lips? 

…Are you seriously about to consider fucking like this?

“Stop it,” he suddenly snaps. “I can practically hear your thoughts and it’s not making this situation any better.”

Pfff. 

You purposefully jab your elbow deep in his ribs, happy with the pained grunt you receive. “Go fuck yourself.”

He curses and moves, childishly trying to put space between the two of you, and you swear you don’t know how this happens in the midst of your arguing and scurrying, but his knee ends up right against your clothed core and your thigh unintentionally rubs against the crotch of his skinny jeans. 

It’s barely there, but it still feels amazing. 

His hands, large and rough, grip your forearms tightly; not enough for it to hurt, but enough to get the point across. 

“Stop.” It comes out in a whisper, brushing right against the shell of your ear. Your pussy slickens and you can’t move, too enthralled with the turn of events (is he getting hard behind you holyfuckhemightbe) to reconnect with your mind. 

Curiously, you ponder on whether it’s always going to be like this, this little dance you and Din like to play—no, I wasn’t staring at you. No, I don’t think about you at all. No, that’s not how you’re supposed to do this, or steal that. No, that’s not my dick pressing up against you right now. No—

“You know I don’t normally fuck on the first job.” 

It comes out so thickly from you that it surprises even yourself. You practically hear the moment he freezes and stops breathing, and a smirk graces your lips in triumph. 

Before he can react, if he was going to, you hear the door that you carefully picked through open and in walks your quarry, sighing in relief as soon as the door closes behind him; if only he knew. 

Din busts out, gun in hand like none of that did not just fucking happen, pointed at the man—Terry, you believe you saw on the file—who flails against the door, trying to open it. Your gun scares him enough to make him stop. 

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

You smirk at the line. It sounds so much like him. 

“L-look I’ll pay you double! Both, e-each, and I’ll-I’ll disappear, I swear!” 

You look towards Din with a side eye glance, just for your own amusement; you’re glad that he plays along, making a pathetic whimper escape from Terry’s lips. 

“Not gonna happen,” you chime. “C’mon, don’t make this harder for any of us.”

Terry is smarter than he looks because he reluctantly nods. You put your gun back into its holster and pull the cuffs snugly tight around his wrists. 

“Good choice.”

Easy. 

Din watches you silently as you lead the way to the car given (stolen) to you—a gorgeous black convertible—and, now you’re positive about this, you’re absolutely sure you felt his eyes on your ass the entire time. 

You wiggle when you help Terry into the seat and bend over riiiight as Din walks by to get to the other side. When you slide in the passenger side, his jaw is clenched tightly and his nose is open in a flare.

Ha. 

***

His friends invite you out to celebrate. 

Given that it was your first job—an easy one, really, with no blood spilt and an easy capture—that must mean that you’re worthy enough to be part of the clique now. Which means going to the local bar and drinking till the heart's content. 

You asked Omera if she would join you, but respectfully declined so you asked your other friend, Jem, whom you liked but she was rather loud. She said yes, of course, which is how you end up at the bar in one of the booths in the back, watching Din play pool and nursing a few fruity and expensive drinks. 

Jem already left you in favor of a young woman who made Jem giggle like a schoolgirl at every chance; well, good for her. 

So it was just you in the booth, debating on how drunk or sober you should be tonight. You’re leaning more towards the latter considering Jem wanted to drive you here when a shadow looms over you.

“Wanna get outta here?”

Din stands over you, looking so intently at you. You gulp and nod your head without even thinking. 

He indicates with a tilt of his head to follow, and you do without so much of a glance back—other than to let Jem know that you were leaving. 

He takes you to the back of the bar and through your confusion you realize he’s walking to a polished black motorcycle; you recognize it, see him with it so many times and yet it doesn’t register in your brain in that moment until you see it. You slow down at the sight of it. 

“You scared?” He asks when you stop. 

“Well I—” you lick your dry lips. “—I’ve never ridden on one before.”

He nods in understanding and holds out a helmet. “Trust me?”

You hesitate, not because it’s him that you don’t trust, but it’s the vehicle itself you do not trust. “Yes. Just please don’t crash.”

He chuckles as you slip the heavy protection over your head and sits himself down, waiting for you to situate yourself behind him before he starts the bike. The loud rumbles vibrate through you immediately and when he revs it you screech and clutch onto his middle in a death grip. 

“Hold on tight!” He shouts and takes off. 

The lurch barely drives you back yet it feels like you’re about to fall. Your head spins under the pressure, and your stomach is doing flips and turns all over as he pushes through the wind. 

You don’t want to open your eyes. You’re not very keen on seeing your impending doom, and this has to be one of the most scariest, exciting moments of your life. 

You feel him zigzag through the roads and alleyways; it’s late, late enough to where there’s no traffic in sight and the city is almost quiet. After moments of encouraging yourself, you finally open your eyes and pick your head up. 

Boy are you happy you did. You can see why Din likes riding this; it’s freeing, feeling the wind brush around you, buildings and lights blurring from the speed. Knowing that at any moment anything can happen but you don’t care; you’re invincible. 

You can also feel the warmth seeping off him and it reminds you of the closet; the vibrations under you doesn’t make it any better. 

Before you know it you’re already back at the warehouse. You’re a little disappointed, both from the short joyride and the short time spent with him, but it’s not like you’re exactly that surprised, either. 

You stand up on trembling legs—the good kind—and hand Din his helmet back with a smile. “Thank you.”

He nods and findles with the straps, looking down at his feet. You don’t know whether you should start walking away or not, so you shift on yours. 

“Wanna smoke with me?” He looks up. “On the roof?”

You grin, knowing what kind of smoke he’s talking about; it’s not your first time, and he’s asking you. “I’ll bring the snacks?”

He smiles; it’s a beautiful smile, a breathtaking one. “Yeah.”

You’re practically skipping towards the kitchen once you’re inside and you watch Din run up to his room. You grab a bunch of snacks that you like and have to wander around aimlessly for the ones you’ve seen Din pick off for minutes before you eventually have your hands worth and sneak up as quietly as you can to the rooftop. You kick at the door once you’re at the top. 

Din helps you place the snacks by the chairs he has set up. When you sit, you understand why he picked this spot; it faces directly towards the quietest and darkest part of the city, making it so the moon and stars shine brightly above. On this type of night, with a cool and gentle breeze in the summer air, it’s perfect. 

“There’s a blanket,” he interrupts your thoughts. He throws the thick pullover at you and you catch one part of it, the rest of it draping over your lap and slapping your face; he chuckles when, again, you give him the finger. 

He rolls the joint and you watch, his fingers moving delicately and expertely over the wrap. It’s even better watching him take the first hit, the way he inhales the smoke and holds it until he exhales it in swirls, his adams apple bobbing. When he passes it to you, you do it exactly the same. 

“Didn’t take you for the type,” he comments. 

You pass it back. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Din.” You tease. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

“Fair enough.” Pass. “So tell me then.”

This catches you off guard. “Oh,” you exaggerate. “Now you wanna know.” You both laugh, the effects setting in. Pass. “What brought this on?”

Pass. It’s out by then, but it’s not like you mind so much; he’s already rolling another. 

“You really wanna know?”

The way he asks it is like a dare. I dare you to say yes, because you may or may not like what you hear, but I promise you’ll be thinking about it. 

It is a tempting dare. 

And you’re falling for it. 

Hit. Pass. “Yes.”

Your body tingles with excitement when he eyes you up and down, goosebumps flaring your skin. Pass. Another second goes by. Pass. His eyes are getting darker if that’s possible. 

Your pussy is officially drenched now. 

“I know you watch me sometimes,” he says casually. Your heart stops. “I get it, I do… I pay attention to you, too.”

You don’t know whether your heart is going to completely stop or burst through your chest. “Yeah?” It comes out breathless. 

“Yeah.” Pass. “I know that you like that awful soup Rully likes to make.” The old man can make a mean soup! “You’re a thief, though it’s in moderation, save for that convertible of yours. You like to draw, I see you doodling on the walls all the time. You never stay in one place for long because you’re afraid of becoming attached, but mainly because you like to be free. You scrunch your face in this weird, adorable way when you’re concentrating, and you’re kind; you’re a good person and a good friend and I… as your partner, and maybe even friend, I trust you.”

Hit. Pass. 

You were speechless. 

How can you even top that off? You thought you had him all figured and yet here he is, blabbing facts about you that you didn’t even know he knew. 

Hit. 

“You like to be alone,” you start. “But you crave moments like these, too, with someone you’re comfortable with. You try to avoid conflict if you can despite your reputation, but you’re also not afraid to take it to that… level if need be. You respect the Guild and everything in it, and you want to be free, just like I do, and I can see that in the way you ride your bike, and the way you look at the sky now. It’s addicting, isn’t it? Being able to do what you want when you want, however you want, the peace and quiet you get with it...” 

He spreads his legs slightly wider as you pass the joint back. 

This moment is tense. It’s in the air, in the way the smoke curls around you and the way the dirty thoughts in your head makes your skin prickle even more. 

He’s looking at you in a way that makes you feel there’s nothing in the world but this. And you can’t help but feel like you understand him a little more now. 

“I’ve been thinking about the closet,” he finally says. Your breath hitches. 

A few seconds go by and you vaguely think that he’s probably waiting for you to answer, to see if this is okay. 

“M-me too.”

The chair squeaks quietly under his weight. “You felt it, didn’t you?” He almost coos this sweetly. “The way I was starting to get hard from your ass rubbing against me. You just could not stop moving and I started to think about all the things I’ve been wanting to do to you for so long.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” You whisper—it feels right to, as to not disturb this precious moment that’ll either make or break you. 

He shrugs, looks away like he has been doing when he’s getting shy; it’s an odd sight coming from such a man as himself, but it’s also cute and endearing. “I don’t know… I haven’t—I mean I have it’s just—”        

Din sighs in frustration. You get it—well, you get that he’s struggling, but not exactly sure as to why—and you don’t want to push him if he’s not ready to tell you what it is he wants to say, so you ignore the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach and sit up straight. 

“You want an encore?” You interject boldly. “Because I’ve been thinking about it too.” You stand up, reveling in the way his eyes never leaves you; you have his whole attention now. “How your body was pressed just right against mine. How, some nights, I do imagine fucking you until you can’t handle it.” He audibly inhales sharply. 

You’re standing in front of him now, looming over him just as he did you at the bar. You feel powerful just doing this with the way his eyes light up and his mouth hangs slightly open and his fist tightens on the armrest of the chair. 

Nothing stops you from carefully settling each leg on either side of his hips, ass resting on his thighs. You take the joint from him and take a big, long hit. You hold it in as you stub it out and gently cup Din’s chin, digging your fingers on the undersides of his light stubble cheeks; open. 

His mouth opens without resistance, taking in the cloud of smoke you’re breathing into his open mouth and nose. In the end, your lips meet his in a dirty, sloppy kiss that’s nothing but tongue and spit and teeth; it’s not perfect by all means, it’s a little painful with the clashing and there’s limited space given the chair, and, let’s be honest, your breaths are not the greatest either. 

But it’s like a coil snaps and he growls, wrapping his arms around you, grabbing a fistful of your hair to angle your head however he likes as he viciously attacks your mouth; his tongue glides over your teeth, swirling with yours in a battle you both know he’ll win, and you whimper into the kiss when his hips buckle up into yours. 

“Show me,” he orders gruffly. “Ride my thigh. Show me what you’ve been dreaming about.”

You don’t hesitate to jump off him and pull your jeans off—you stumble in your haste, but you could care less on how ridiculous you look doing it. You keep your underwear on, the air being slightly more chilly now, and climb back onto his lap and wrap your arms around his shoulder. 

He grabs your hips and helps you adjust your hot, drenched pussy over his clothed, beefy thigh; he pushes your panties to the side and teases you with a swift swipe over your clit. 

“Din,” you moan wantonly. At the first shallow thrust, you’re already a mess, the want finally getting the attention you’ve been begging silently for. Your clit slides deliciously against the rough fabric and you wish to the Maker above that you could scream as loud as you can without attracting attention, because by just the first few thrusts you’re already putty in his arms.

“Fuck I can feel you, pretty girl,” he gushes. “Even through my jeans I can feel how wet this pussy is for me.”

“For you,” you whine, continuing a slow grind. “For you, daddy.”

He groans and throws his head back when your knee bumps against his obvious hard on; it looks so big, even hidden behind clothes, and you know without a doubt that it’ll stretch you out to the brim. “That’s right babygirl. You’re doing good.” Then he grunts your name. 

You know what that means, somehow, and move your hips faster against him. It feels too good. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire in all the best ways, like he’s everywhere all at once and consuming you. You don’t want it to stop, it feels amazing and holy shit he’s flexing his thigh. 

He kisses you, makes you forget your own fucking name, and trails his lips down your neck, feeling around for your sweet spot. When he finds it behind your ear, he bites down and licks around the tender flesh. 

“Fuck!” You hiss, your pussy fluttering around nothing, clit pulsing deliciously under the friction. “I want your cock, Din. Think about riding it just—“ you swirl your hips and rewards you with a guttural grunt. “—like this.” 

He’s moaning with you now, gripping onto your hips tighter and tighter to the point of bruising, and you’re happy it will because you want to remember this moment, and the way just his thigh alone is making your cunt clench and body erupt in the most pleasurable way possible. 

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you moan, throwing your head back, clutching at the back of his neck and pulling on the small strands of hair you feel. “Din make me cum, I wanna feel it so fucking badly, oh shit.” You can’t stop, the words just escaping you like a broken faucet. 

He pushes his leg harder against your pussy and moves hips upwards in time with your thrusts. “I-I am t-too,” he stammers in a pitch; it sounds so erotic coming from him. “Cum with me, cum for me, now.”

As if you needed the permission, your pussy spasms on his leg and gushes the tight jeans, your mouth open in a silent scream, body tingling and squirming in his grasp. 

Din moans so sweetly it should be a sin and clutches at you, biting down on your chest through your shirt.   

The air is perfect now for your slick, hot skin. It takes a few moments for your head to reconnect with the rest of your body, and when it does you slump your weight against him. 

“Did you,” you take a deep breath, your voice hoarse and scratchy. “Do you want me to?”

Din looks up lazily from your chest, understands what you’re gesturing to and shakes his head. 

“Already did.”

You look down and see the big, wet patch on the crouch of his pants. You laugh airily and stand up; your legs are wiggly, but your body is sated and happy, and he looks like he’s experiencing the same kind of bliss.  

Your thighs, slick with your own juices, slide roughly against your jeans uncomfortably as you pull them on, watching him adjust himself and clean himself off as best he can with the blanket he threw at you. 

“So,” you drawl. “Another session tomorrow night?”

Din smiles and sighs. “You read my mind.”

You feel like the happiest woman in the world. 

***

It’s heaven.

Being with him. The late nights, where you come back from a fight or a job laughing and stumbling over your feet in desperation to feel the other. The fucking. 

Din fucking you on every inch and corner of yours and his room any chance he has regardless if you’ll get caught; littering your skin with his marks and fucking you so hard you can barely walk without wincing the next day. Being able to feel the press of his lips against your skin, on your pussy, his hands caressing and bringing every ounce of pleasure from your body. 

Whispered words stolen by a kiss. Giving pieces of yourself that he equally returns. Feeling whole and alive for the first time in your young adulthood. 

It’s fucking paradise.

But the credits you have been saving reminds you of the intentions you had when first joining. You don’t even want to think about leaving right now. 

It isn’t the right time to worry. You’re out on a stakeout with Din, looking for a highly dangerous and wanted woman who, and you heavily admire her for this, once plucked a man's eyeball out with her bare hand. 

It’s the most fucked up and badass thing you’ve encountered yet. 

“Wanna play 20 questions?” You ask out of boredom. 

“No,” he huffs. 

Grump. 

“I Spy?”

“Fuck off.” 

“Thumb war?”

“What did I say?”

“Suck your dick?”

“No. Waitwha—yes, we can do that.”

You giggle and playfully shove his shoulder. “Perv.”

“You’re the one who suggested it.” 

“Yeah, only because you said no to everything else.”

“And we're on a job,” he quirks. “Pay attention.”

You stick your tongue at him. “There is such a thing as multitasking.”

“And I think you’re terrible at it,” he says, but it’s light to let you know he’s only teasing. 

“Whatever.”

…

“You know I think you still have time to suck my dick,” he comments.

“Fuck off.”

She doesn’t show until the sun sets, which you should have expected given the track history; it was easier to disappear in the dark. 

“There,” Din points to the dimly lit alleyway. She walks out of the door, looking both ways before closing it. 

He moves quickly and quietly with you trailing behind. The goal is to try and make it to her before she drives alway; she’s worth more alive than dead. 

You watch in the comforts of the shadows—she’s walking to a car that you hope is hers—and follow as close you can without raising suspicion. 

Just as your feet hit the curb on the street she’s on, glass explodes behind you in shards. 

She’s quick. You forgot to add that little detail. 

It’s all happening too fast for you and you’re standing there like a shocked dumbass, a fish stranded on land. This is the first time that’s ever happened. 

Another bang echoes through the still air and without warning you’re being shoved to the hard concrete ground, scraping your elbows and knees against the pavement. 

“Fuck!” Din hisses in your ear. “You gotta cover me from the left.” You take your gun out of the holster and nod; breathe. 

“Now!”

You whip up at the same time in different directions, guns up and aimed. 

And when you hear a chorus of blasts, you hope to the Maker that Din is still standing to your right.

All you can hear is the sounds of your pants. There’s something lying on the sidewalk where she was at, with something even darker pooling around them. 

Logically, it can’t be him because he’s supposed to be standing at your right, and there’s no logical way he got to the other side that quick, but you’re still in a state of shock by what just happened and where the fuck is he?

“Hey,” It sounds far away. You can’t even tell who it is. “Hey, baby.”

Baby. Only one person would be calling you that. 

Your name. That’s the way he says your name. You hear it. 

“Din?” There’s tears in the back of your throat, but you refuse to let them fall. 

He’s here, in front of you, hugging you to his chest. You’re actually clinging to him, you can feel the leather beneath your fingertips and smell the powder and sweat on him.

It’s him. He’s alive. You both are. 

“We need to go.” Sirens sound off in the distance. 

You never ran so fast in your life. 

The entire ride back you’re in a daze, replaying those fatal moments over and over until your hands start to shake. Din notices and places his hand on your knee, rubbing soothing circles; it helps a little. 

You could’ve died. He could’ve died. It was the first time you were ever caught in a gunfight, been so close at death's door, and yet…

And yet as terrified as you were, there was also a thrill to it; a different kind of excitement you never felt before, a feral type that makes you push Din right up the garage doors of the warehouse as soon as they close. 

He stumbles against the door, caught off guard by your sudden attack. You kiss him before he opens his mouth, your hands already desperately fumbling with his belt. Once it’s off you attach your lips to his neck, biting and sucking the taunt skin, while unzipping his pants; he’s already half hard. 

He grabs a handful of your ass, moaning into the kiss when your hands touch the bare skin of his lower abdomen. When you caress the soft, velvet skin of his cock, he buckles in your grip. 

“I’m gonna do what I said I would do,” you tell him as you get down on your knees, face to face with his leaking red tip. 

You don’t give him the chance to react, darting your tongue out to lick around the head of him before taking him completely in your mouth, moaning at the salty taste and sliding down until he’s hitting the back of your throat with a gag from you. 

His hips jerk without hesitance with a pained whine, making you choke around him. You have to unlock your jaw wider to make it comfortable for you. He fists your hair and keeps you still. 

“Makerfuck pretty girl,” he groans deeply. “G-give me a warning next time.”

You hum, swirling your tongue along the veins of his thick girth. He lets you set the pace then and you pull him out for an intake of air, fisting and pumping your spit and his precum as lubricant. 

“Can never get enough of this,” he pants, already tensing beneath your hands. “Seeing you on your knees for daddy. Fuck I wish you could see yourself right now.”

His breaths become ragged when you take him back in your mouth, this time fisting what you can’t fit and pumping him at a furious pace in tune with your mouth; you let your teeth scrape gently on the underside of the head.

“Hmm that’s it,” he hums. When you briefly look up, he has his head thrown back. “Keep going babygirl.”

The sounds you’re making is beyond obscene, and you’re well aware that anyone can just walk in at any given moment and become witness to this, but here’s the thing: you don’t care. If anything, it makes you suck him harder just to get more out of him. 

“So good for me,” he sighs, now taking back control and thrusting shallowly. The sting of his tug adds to the growing pressure in your pussy. 

You know he’s not going to last long by the way his breathing picks up and his thighs shake and tense; you dig your nails into the skin, and he whimpers, fucking whimpers. 

“A-almost there sweet girl, cover it—yes just like that, beautiful, fuck. Keep going—mhmm.”

His moans get deeper with every slosh of your mouth and hand moving rapidly on his dick. The ache in your pussy is almost unbearable to ignore, but right now you want to make this about his pleasure; you want to be the one in control, bringing him to the same levels of euphoria he brings you and more, to hear those whimpers and growls directed at you. 

A few more sucks and he’s twitching in your mouth, groaning a symphony of curses and praises. 

“Fuck I’m gonna c-cum, go-gonna fill that pretty mouth of yours up, and you better swallow every drop, princess.”

Oh that’s got you gushing in your panties. You whimper, spit and drool trailing down your chin and the length of him, and slip your hand to his balls, giving them a gentle but firm squeeze.

“Shit, I’m—“ he chokes, neck going red and he cums like a bomb, instantly filling your mouth with his salty essence until there’s droplets of that dripping from the corners of your mouth. 

You let him sit in your mouth until he comes to, enjoying the taste of him. He pulls your head back and doesn’t give you the chance for you to even catch your breath before he’s bending over and stealing it away with a dirty kiss; he moans at the taste of himself on your tongue and laps at the remnants of his cum. 

“Thank you.” He whispers. 

You help him put himself away and pull his pants up. You’re able to steal one more kiss before he’s dragging you out of the garage. 

***

It’s been gnawing at you since the thought of leaving was implanted in your brain. The thought of leaving and living a life of your own without depending on anyone to achieve it. 

It’s never bothered you before. You always left, no problems, no aches or regrets. But this one. This one was going to rip your heart out and stomp it to the ground until it could no longer beat. 

The other night doesn’t help, either. 

You want Din by your side. The thought of leaving him or worse hurts, really fucking hurts, and in the months of your trysts and smoke sessions and partnership and late night talks and that awful moment that you thought you lost him, you realized that you were falling in love with him. 

When he told you about the loss of his parents, you fell in love with him. The fact that he trusted you enough to show you that part of his past made your heart beat funny in a good way. 

“The Guild quickly found me after,” he explained, your body entwined under his sheets. “Hans was the one who found me, actually, and just so happened to reside here. Taught me basically everything I know. Greef came in not that long ago, and I brought Omera in just a few months before you showed up.”

You rubbed your hand up and down his chest, tracing the light, faint scars that scattered. 

“So I feel like I owe them, you know?” He continued, absentmindedly tracing patterns on your back. “Because if it weren’t for them, I’d probably be dead by now.”

You froze. You didn’t like that. Ever since that night with the assassin, you didn’t like to think or so much as hear anything about Din’s death. 

He must have noticed your sudden shift because he lifted your chin up gently and pouted. “And if it weren’t for them, I probably would have never met you, either.”

It did make you feel better and you appreciated the change. You hugged him impossibly tighter to you, feeling his heart skip a beat beneath your ear. 

“I’m glad I met you,” you said into his chest. 

He sighed, a happy one. “Me too.”

And followed by his fears, insecurities, hobbies and passions, it grew. 

When he first held your hand as he ate you out, that love grew even larger. When he started to make sure you took care of yourself and vice versa, and never missed a chance at making you smile, you were absolutely fucked. 

You’re terrified, obviously. It’s not like you’re in an actual relationship per say, at least, if you are—which you have quarrels with, of course—then it’s unspoken; you couldn’t be angry if he didn’t want to leave. 

You just… want to feel that same type of freedom you felt that night. Build a life off of it. Although at this point, you just want any life with him. 

So you’re going to tell him. Now. In your room, where he’s lying right across from you, naked as the day he was born, on your bed with his hands behind his head. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, tilting his head down to look at you. “I know somethings been bothering you all day.”

You sigh through your nose, pulling your sheets further up your chest. 

It’s now or never. 

“We should just… go,” you finally push out. “Like, ‘leave this place and don’t look back’ type of deal. Just drive off and create a new life for ourselves.”

A breath. 

Silence. 

It’s so fucking quiet you could hear a pin drop. His expression is unreadable, and you’ve gotten good at being able to read him since the half year went by. It’s too much already, making your chest ache and stomach pull in knots. You can’t take another second of silence. 

“Never mind, forget I said anything,” you quickly backtrack, reaching for your clothes when his hand reaches out to stop you. 

“Are you serious?” He demands. “W-why?”

He’s going to say no. You just fucked this all up. 

You shrug your shoulders absentmindedly; he can see straight through your bullshit, anyway. 

“I don’t want to be stuck here for the rest of my life,” you explain quietly, just enough for him to hear. “It’s great and all, don’t get me wrong. I… never intended to stay this long in the first place, you know that. And I know that you feel like you owe them but you don’t, Din.” You take his hand in your lap; he’s listening intently. “I’m not… I’m not forcing you to go. I’m not telling. I’m asking.” God you hope you don’t start losing it. “And if you don’t want to then… then we’ll figure it out. Or something…”

You’re too afraid to look at him. You’ve never felt so open and vulnerable like this before. It was foreign, alien to you and Din as well, you’re sure, so to say that you don’t expect him to roughly palm your cheeks between his hands and kiss you like there’s no tomorrow is a bit of an understatement. 

“Yes,” He whispers against your lips. “Yes.”

You’re bursting. A smile so wide spreads across your lips and you’re laughing and tackling him on the bed, rolling around on the sheets as your lips clash clumsily. 

“We’ll leave as soon as I make the credits,” he pecks your lips once, four times before you stop him.

“I have enough, and why wait?” You’re buzzed off the adrenaline, the knowledge that the man you’ve come to love is here in your arms, mirroring your smile with the wide, toothy one that you adore. 

He laughs, his chest vibrating against yours with it. “Okay.” He trails the tip of his finger down the slope of your nose. “Let’s go.”

You don’t pack much, it’s not like you had a lot to begin with, and it’s easier travelling light when you have no real direction in mind. You both agree to take your car rather than the bike for obvious reasons and it makes you feel guilty; you also feel guilty by not saying a proper goodbye to Jem and Omera. 

“Don’t worry,” he assures you, sticking the keys into the ignition. “I’ll get another one.” He winks at you and you laugh, all bubbly and loud. 

Din puts the car in reverse and backs out of the garage in a hurry, not wanting to waste another precious moment. You wave goodbye at the building as it disappears behind you; you’ll miss the people, even that Cara Dune they stopped by for weapons or to see Din; they had a history, he told you once, and were just good friends. 

“I left them a note,” Din suddenly says. “I knew you also wanted to say goodbye.”

You love him. You swear you love him more than anything in this galaxy. 

You palm the back of his neck and rub, showing your appreciation. He grins and leans his head to the left, sighing pleasantly. The hood is down on the car, the air whipping around you with the city disappearing behind you. 

You don’t find any traces of regret within you. This feels too good for it to be wrong. 

He drives and drives for hours until you have to stop at a motel. It’s old and rundown, but it’ll do. Your room is on the first floor, which is best for the few cars that are scattered in the parking lot.

You’re on each other as soon as the door closes. 

“Look at you,” Din marvels at your pussy from the end of the bed. 

Your hips squirm under his arm, laid out across your lower stomach to hold you down; your clothes are thrown all over the room and you're completely bare to him, spread out like a meal for his taking. “I’ve barely even touched you, pretty girl.”

“Please,” your body is littered in bruises and bite marks, wired and ready to snap at any moment. “Just do something.”

He nips at your inner thigh in retaliation, caressing your leg and throwing it over his broad shoulder. 

“What?” He croons. “What do you want daddy to do?” 

“E-eat me out,” you plead. “Wanna f-feel your mouth on my pussy, daddy.”

That pleases him. “Alright princess, I got you.”

He’s been teasing you relentlessly since you’ve checked in, high off the newfound freedom you both found in each other. The sheets are scratchy and the tv barely shows a decent channel, and you’re pretty sure that the bathroom is in even worse shape, but this is everything. 

“Yes!” You keen. 

He licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, using the tip of his tongue to curl under the hood. “Oh my—mhmm.”

His nose brushes against your clit as his tongue ventures back down, licking and sucking in between your folds. The hot, slippery and textured organ pushes in and out of your entrance, tongue fucking you with an eagerness of a man starved. 

Your mind starts to roll over in the pleasure induced haze and the coil in your stomach starts to tighten under his ministrations. He hums at the taste of you and practically envelopes your entire pussy in his mouth and sucks. Hard. 

Your hips jerk, being pushed down as soon as they move. 

“Din,” you whine, burying your fingers in his curls and tugging, earning a deep groan from the man devouring your pussy. He follows your guidance—he really loves it when you pull on his hair—and wraps his lips around your pulsing clit, sucking with audible slurps. 

“Yes,” you gasp, arching your back the best you can. “F-fingers.”

He obliges without having to be told a second time, pushing your legs up slightly higher and sliding two thick fingers inside your fluttering cunt and scissoring them immediately. You whine and wither, it’s so much and not enough and you’re going crazy. 

“What’s the matter, sweet girl?” He coos mockingly. “Is it here,” he stretches you wider. You mutter a breathless, “No.” “Here?” He motions teasingly right next to the spot that shoots bolts up your body. A small tear trinkles down the corner of your eye in frustration. “My poor baby is desperate, isn’t she?” 

Under any other circumstances, if you weren’t so wrecked, you’d make a snotty comment to rile him up; it’s a whole other feeling when he fucks you like a wild animal, but you’ve been so desperate the moment you drove off that you continue to whine and beg him. 

“I’m begging daddy,” you cry. “Please please I wanna cum on your mouth.”

He finally hits your sweet spot, curling and bumping against it until you're very close to screaming and your legs start to shake.

“Oh Maker I’m gonna—“ your entire lower half starts to tremble. When you look back down to meet his eyes, they’re closed and lost in his own pleasure, sucking harshly around your clit and scraping his teeth gently across the hood. 

Din pulls back with a gulp of air before hoarsely saying, “Cum.” 

He dives back in with a vigor and within five strokes of his fingers and tongue, your pussy clenches around his digits like a vice. 

“Yesyesyesyes FUCK!” 

It feels like you’re practically drowning with the man with the gushing feeling pooling from your core. He continues to eat you out, drinks the juices you give him with ease. 

It’s too much. You keep pushing against his head but he growls and latches on to you tighter, sucking and fucking you even harder than before. 

“S-st-stop,” you muster through the onslaught. “D-Din, Beskar!”

He stops at the safeword and with his chin glistening brightly in the dim light, teeth shining behind it like a wolf stalking its prey, you feel another short wave tingle through you; your body is flushed and spent, but you open your arms to him, welcome his just as equally bare body on yours, moan at the sweet taste of yourself on his mouth.

You feel the bulbous head of him at your entrance and with a nod from you, he pushes in in one smooth thrust; with his spit and your orgasm combined, he slides in with liquid ease and a wet, loud slosh of the mixed fluids he pushes through.

He swallows your whimper and settles himself to the brim inside you, the curls of his hair scraping against your pubic mound and his balls sitting comfortably on the base of your ass. 

“I know, baby,” he coos softly. He runs his hand over your breast, twisting the hard, perked nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your hips buckle into his, making you both moan and close your eyes. 

“C-can I move?” He grits between his teeth.

“Yes.” You wrap your legs around his waist. 

He pulls out almost completely and thrusts back in without hesitance. The thrust is so hard that it pushes you up the bed. 

“You’re already squeezing the fuck outta me girl,” he pants, holding himself above you. You grip onto his biceps and feel your cunt spasm around him again; you’re still very sensitive from the previous orgasm and it hurts in the best way possible. 

“I ca—“ it’s so hard to think and talk and even breathe with his deliciously thick cock pounding into you with abundance. 

He moans and somehow goes even harder and faster than before, the slaps of his hips against yours so fucking loud that you can’t barely hear the cars outside anymore. 

“Gonna cum again?” He snarls. You nod weakly. “Fuck babygirl this pussy was meant for me, so good to me.”

A bead of sweat falls from his slick body and on your top lip; you wrap your arm around his neck and bring him down to you, licking the sweat off his neck. You bite down on the juncture between his neck and shoulder, making him grunt and his cock twitch inside you. 

“Harder,” you gasp in his ear. 

He groans and anchors himself by gripping onto the headboard tightly, slightly stopping the bed from banging against the wall like it has been for the past five minutes—you’ll be surprised if you don’t already receive a noise complaint. 

Your lower stomach tightens again as your orgasm approaches and you can tell he isn’t far behind from you. “I’m gonna cum daddy,” you whimper into the air, head thrown back against the pillow. “C-can I?”

He plows into you like he’s never felt the walls of a pussy before and shifts his hips a little to the left. The reaction is instant. 

“Oh Maker yes, keeping fucking me, right there.” The words are so ragged and broken. 

“Cum all over me,” he demands gruffly, deep from within his chest, staring down at his meal and boasting. He wraps his hand around your neck and squeezes gently at first until you nod, and then more pressure until your eyes roll in the back of your head. “Make daddy cum. C’mon pretty girl, sweet, sweet girl, please.” 

The combinations of his cock, hand, and the whimpered please that just left him do you in. You open your mouth but nothing comes out and the only thing you can feel is your cunt spasming around him, sucking him in when he pulls out; your whole self is lost in euphoria, but you can register his hips slamming sloppily into yours and the pitches whines that are tearing from his throat. 

“Oh fuck fuck.”

He’s about to pull out. You’re not on the implant, it’s something you’ve been meaning to take care of, but this time… this time you don’t want him to. You want to feel all of him in this new light, have another part of him within you. 

“No!” You clutch onto his neck as he reaches down in between your legs. He pushes himself up in shock but he takes you with him and now you’re seated fully on him—is it possible to feel this full and sore and complete at the same time?—as he sits back on his heels, staring at you in a mix of confusion and pain. You immediately feel guilty.

“You can—you can cum in me i-if you’re comfortable with it,” you stammer breathlessly, brushing the curls out of his face. 

Din stares at you in complete wonder, panting and holding your waist in a tight grip that’s slightly painful but you know he’s struggling to hold on right now, so you don’t really blame him for it. 

You’re starting to think you went too far. This is intimate; it’s a mark, it’s trust and security.

Suddenly he gives you a few, hard thrusts and he’s choking on a whimper, filling your stuffed pussy; it feels odd, but it feels just as good for you as well, especially when you see the blissed out look on his face, and you can already feel his cum and yours leaking from you and on to the sheets. 

You’re too weak to hold yourself up anymore, so you lay your upper half on the bed while the lower stays connected to his. His hands run up and down your body, soothing the hot, slick skin while he continues to stare at you; those eyes are so intense that it’s hard to return it without feeling like you’re being consumed. 

The only sounds in the room are your breaths. He lays his head down on your pelvis, gripping your hips in the same way the bruises show.

“Can I stay?” He eventually asks. You raise your eyebrows in confusion. “Inside you,” He clarifies, almost nervously. 

You nod, too tired to move or speak, so he adjusts the both of you back to the pillows; he apologizes when you wince or hiss, laying you on your side so that you’re comfortable. 

Din outlines the contours of your face as your eyes close, a barely there touch that tickles you but you make no moves to stop him. 

He mumbles something but you can barely register what he’s saying, lost in the colors behind your eyelids. 

There’s a soft, wet press on the top of your head before you disappear into your dreams. 

***

It’s hard to keep a low profile with the way you two are going, and without the protection of the Guild anymore, the law is after you more than ever.

That doesn’t stop either one of you. 

Nor does it strip the joy of the life you have with him. 

It’s not always easy for the most part, but you still can’t find any particle of regret in you, or in him. It’s like you were meant for this—doing whatever the fuck you want, when you want, with your partner, in so many ways now, standing by you.   

The sun is setting in the seering desert, the lines of a heat wave outlining it beautifully. The hood of your car is down, sunglasses on and Din.

Well Din is riding right next to you on his brand new bike, laughing and smiling with you. The cops are long gone now, lost in the trail of dust you left behind.

The whole chase was exhilarating, to say the least.

A new days version of Bonnie and Clyde. That’s what one of the papers called you. And no doubt, there was someone from the Guild coming after you for the hefty bounty that’s been placed on your heads. 

“Let them come,” Din says now as you sit on the hood of your car, watching the earth settle into the shadows of the night on the side of the desert, barren road. He runs his hand soothingly on your head, scratching the scalp lightly much to your delight; you can fall asleep right here in his arms like this. “We can take them.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But sometimes I just can’t help but feel like… like—” You can’t finish. 

“Look,” he sits up a little. “I don’t regret this. I don’t. I’ve never felt this happy in years and it’s because I’m with you. I’m experiencing this new life with you and that’s all I want. We’re fine, more than fine, and I have no problems reminding you for the rest of my days if that’s what it takes.”

He seems to always know what’s going through your mind and exactly what you need to hear to soothe it. 

“Thank you.”

He gives your ass a squeeze. You snort and settle closer to his side. “I’m sure my parents are horrified right now.”

You don’t know where that suddenly comes from. 

He shifts and you feel him look down at you, but doesn’t push you away. “Do you want to call them?”

It’s a dumb thing to do and he knows that, but you appreciate what he’s trying to do. 

“No,” you sigh. “Can’t.”

“Hey,” he lifts your chin to look at him; the sun makes him look like a God. “You still got me, alright? Until the end.”

You kiss him. You try to pour all the words unspoken into it, all the love that’s filled your mind and body and soul.

He reminds you at the nearest motel around. This time, he takes his time with you, explores with more depth; no rush, no interruptions. 

It’s soft, the way he cradles you gently and rocks into you. It’s caring, when he kisses you languidly and grinds his pelvis against yours, brushing delicately against your clit. Understanding, when he shushes you quietly. Stability, as he’s holding you close to him, your lips not even moving away from the other. 

It’s love. 

It’s love in the way your heart calls to him. The way you feel so safe and secure with him, knowing that no matter what happens, he’s the only person who will ever have your back in this shitty world. 

It’s love by the way you no longer feel like you’re trying to find pieces of yourself. In being with him, you’ve come to realize that you’re whole now; you’re not searching anymore, you’ve found everything you need right here in him—in the Target Practice Din Djarin, Clyde to your Bonnie, whatever the fuck you want to call it. 

And you tell him that, in hushed whispers. “I love you. Fuck I love you so much.”

Your heart bursts when he says it back. “And I love you. More than my own life.”

You giggle, just out of sheer joy and because you can and he joins you in equal pitch and giddiness. 

His thrusts stay slow and languid, a contrast to your usual roughness, but it’s perfect for the way you’re pouring your heart out to him, as he is to you, in ways old and new. 

“I’m yours,” he breathes on your lips as your core flutters around him. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

You won’t. You never will. 

“And I’m yours,” you seal this in a hard clench of your pussy and revel in the way his eyes roll in the back of his head. 

There’s no telling where you begin and he ends. It’s astronomical the way he seems to fit against you, in you, so perfectly, as if you really are a match made in Heaven. Or Hell. Or, you know, wherever you go after this life. 

When he comes inside you, shivering in your arms with his adorably scrunched up face, you vow that, even if they end up catching up to you in the end, you’ll never leave him unless he asks you. You’ll fight through tooth and nail, and you almost want someone to even try it; they’re trying, and they’ll keep trying until they get their prize. 

There’ll never be anyone like him in this entire galaxy. 

And if he goes down, you go down with him. 

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