#did these for reserved muses as well so here are your bottoms

[jedifighterpilot2727]

Now tell me why do I have the idea of Lena and Kara getting ready to leave her Penthouse for an event but as they’re about to leave Kara grabs Lena, pins her against the wall next to the door because she can’t take it anymore…she just has to have Lena right then and there, her desire for her doesn’t afford her the patience of waiting until they get home 😭😭

So . . . this just kind of . . . came out *ahem* I make no apologies.

As for the other dirty prompts in my inbox, I see you! I am but a subject to the muses. but hey, smut begets smut right?

Rated M for sMut

Also, fair warning, this turned out rather vanilla lol so I hope y'all still enjoy!

Reservations

"Leeennaaa." Kara calls out, letting her head flop against the back of the couch. "What is taking you so long? You look beautiful, I promise!"

There's the sound of shuffling in the bathroom before Lena's voice comes back through the closed door.

"Just a minute! I'm almost done!"

Kara whines, eyes drifting closed . "It's been fourty-five minutes. I've beaten like twelve levels on the match game on my phone."

"Not all of us have super speed, darling. Or perfectly coiffed curls, for that matter."

"You have a perfect everything." Kara counters. "Now can you please get your perfect self out here before I starve to death?" She takes off her glasses to squint at the smudges on the lenses.

"Is this your master plan as Luthor? Make me fall in love with you and then starve me to death while waiting on you to get ready for dinner? I can see the headlines now - 'Supergirl defeated by Lena Luthor, long term starvation plan executed perfectly by wife.'"

Lena's laugh is tinkling.

"First of all, the media doesn't know that I'm married to Supergirl; so the headline would be about Kara Danvers. Second of all,: I'm a better Luthor than my brother, darling, if I wanted you killed then you would be dead before you had time to put two and two together."

And Kara knows that Lena is joking.

Knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that her wife is teasing and would never hurt her - well not without a safe word. But the undeniable truth behind the honey sweet tone sends a shiver down Kara's spine.

Rao, why did everything this woman does have to turn her on?

Kara squirms in her seat as she reaches to untuck the corner of her shirt and uses it to wipe at her glasses.

"Well yes, but we can leave the 'you're evil, I'm Supergirl' role play for another day please? I'm really hungry."

She can hear Lena's long suffering sigh even without her super senses as she holds her glasses up to the light; frowning when she still sees smudges.

The unmistakable click of Lena's red bottom heels sounds on the hardwood floor behind her, as she tries once again to scrub at her glasses.

"Thank goodness, let's go, I've been dreaming about these appetizers ever since the last time we ate at Ralphio's."

The aforementioned heels come into Kara's peripheral vision, and she hurriedly pushes the glasses back on her face.

She blinks once through the streaks that her dress shirt has made on the lenses before she remembers that she doesn't actually need them to see the beauty in front of her and pulls them off.

"Fuck."

The expletive slips out unbidden, and Kara fully blames it on Lena's bad influence; because she lived with Alex for years and managed to keep her vocabulary clean, but now she apparently cusses like some sort of deviant.

To be fair, it's really not her fault.

No one should be held responsible for what they say when Lena Luthor-Danvers is standing in front of them dressed to the nines.

"What was that, darling?"

Kara slowly gets to her feet, letting her eyes trace a lazy path up from the floor so she can fully appreciate Lena.

The heels of course, showcasing perfectly flexed, creamy white calves all the way up to just below the knee; where a short but enticing slit slices it's way up Lena's thigh. The dress hugs Lena's curves in all the right places, guiding Karas eyes up the swell of her hips to the soft crescent of her abdomen.

Briefly, she worries about Lena's ability to breathe in the dress because of how snug it is around her ribs; but then the material cuts away to show off Lena's cleavage, the black lace trimming barely containing Lena's breasts where they threaten to spill over, and she's distracted again.

Her eyes trace the lace over perfect skin that she wishes was beneath her fingers - or god, her lips. She doesn't think she has a collar bone kink, but she definitely has a Lenal kink; so she lets her gaze meander slowly to Lena's exposed shoulders before darting to the column of her throat.

She can see the muscles of Lena's throat contract as she swallows, and sinful red lips are moving - saying something that Kara's distracted brain isn't processing.

"Darling."

Lena's holding back a laugh, and something tells Kara that this isn't the first time she's repeated herself.

Trying to break the spell, Kara shifts her attention to Lena's eyes; but - oh boy was that a mistake. Lena's applied her eye makeup a little darker than usual tonight, and her green eyes sparkle like a faraway planet in the night sky.

"I - I'm sorry?" Kara's mouth goes so dry that the back of her throat sticks together, and she coughs, embarrassed.

"Are you ready for dinner?"

"Dinner? I -uh -yes, dinner. Right." mentally, Kara kicks herself; forcing her body to do her bidding instead of lusting after Lena.

"Apres vous, Madame." She gestures to the door, and that's when her body's obedience ends. Lena's hair is swept up into a tight bun, and the back of her dress is cut just enough to tease.

Her fingers twitch, and before she can stop herself, her fingertips are ghosting along Lena's skin - trailing the path from the chain around her neck down to where he sleeve is hugging her shoulder.

She can see in Lena's posture when her breath hitches at Kara's touch, and it's then she loses her last remnants of self control.

All it takes is one long stride forward and she's caught up with Lena, her front ghosting Lena's backside and her lips lowering down to caress the same milky skin her fingers just left.

"Kara . . ." Lena's voice is shaky and she can see the tremble in the hand that reaches up to undo the chain lock on the door.

Grinning, Kara lowers her head once again to lave kisses against the taut skin of Lena's neck; her left hand following Lena's until she closes her palm against the back of Lena's hand. Kara gently pushes forward until Lena is pressed between the door and Kara's body with their left hands laced together.

Kara's right hand comes up to Lena's waist, and Lena's knocks against the door as she braces herself against the sudden force of Kara's grip.

"Kara . . . " Lena repeats in a strangled whisper.

"Yes, my love?" Kara barely pauses her kisses to mouth the words against Lena's skin.

"Dinner . . . " Lena shudders as Kara hits a particularly sensitive beneath her ear.

"Hmm?"

"We have reservations. . . "

"You have standing reservations at every fancy restaurant in National City." Kara corrects, before closing her teeth around the shell of Lena's ear.

Lena's fingers clench where Kara has them pressed against the wall.

"Do you want me to stop?" Kara offers thoughtfully, tugging Lena more flush against her, fingers grazing the underside of her bosom.

"I - . . ."

"Words, Love - mind reading isn't one of my super powers."

"Kara." Lena's voice quivers. "Fuck."

"Was that a request or a demand?" Kara smirks.

"Either, both, I don't know, just - "

"As you wish." Kara promises, using just a hint of super speed to spin Lena so that her back is against the door, their left hands remaining laced above Lena's head"

It Lena's turn to smirk.

"Are you quoting The Princess Bride to me?"

Kara's right index finger comes up to hook around her upper lip like a fake mustache.

"My name, is Inigo Montoya; you killed my father, prepare to die."

Lena laughs, a full on belly laugh that's a complete juxtaposition with the sexual tension in the air, but it somehow turns Kara on even more.

Grinning, she takes advantage of the way that Lena's head is thrown back against the door and bows her head to claim Lena's neck once again. This time, her lips quickly give way to teeth - grazing and nipping at the quivering skin.

She feels the sharp tug in her hair before she's even realized that Lena's free hand has moved, and she grunts into the freckle on Lena's neck. Her weak knees let the majority of her body weight fall into Lena and the door, and she feels their bodies meld somehow closer; Kara's knee slipping between Lena's legs and shifting her dress up her thighs.

"Kara." Lena's voice is a whispered prayer against her ear, and Kara can't help but chuckle as absolute want and need race in shivers down her spine.

She pulls away slightly, waiting until Lena's unfocused eyes have lost their glazed look and met hers, before brushing the lone strand of hair that's escaped from Lena's bun away from her face.

"You know, we could always send a driver to get takeout if you still want those appetizers." Lena pants out, even as her hips subtly grind down onto Kara's thigh.

"Mmmm, but you got all dressed up." even as she speaks the words, Kara uses both of her hands to pull Lena's hips into hers.

"I only got dressed up to look nice for you." Lena admits with a gasp as she steps out of her heels. The loss of height presses Kara's knee deeper into her center.

"I do like that one suit you have, in particular."

"I swear to god, if you say birthday suit -" Lena threatens.

Kara huffs a laugh, toeing out of her own shoes.

"I was going to say the purple Tom Ford, but I'm partial to the birthday suit as well."

"Don't get cheeky with me, Supergirl." The severe look on Lena's face might have worried others but Kara can see the smile pulling at her lips.

"Cheeky, huh?" Kara's hands drop to palm Lena's ass, squeezing suggestively.

Lena swats at her shoulder.

"Well if you're going to get violent Ms. Luthor." She ducks under Lena's grasp, using her handholds to hoist Lena over her shoulder.

"Hey!" Lena protests, fisting her hands in the back of Kara's shirt to try and maintain some semblance of control even as her legs kick helplessly in the air.

"That's Mrs. Luthor-Danvers to you!"

Kara's laugh echoes down the hall as she carries Lena to their bedroom.

"My apologies." She tosses Lena onto the bed, barely letting her settle from the bounce before crawling over her predatorily. "Mrs. Luthor-Danvers."

"Better." Lena breathlessly concedes before tugging Kara's lips down to hers.

Kara could spend hours kissing Lena - has spent hours kissing Lena - their mouths moving in a practiced dance that somehow leaves her satisfied and yet wanting more; tongues and lips bruised and tired.

But tonight, tonight she wants more.

Needs more.

And if Lena's moans and her nails digging into Kara's skin though her shirt are any indication, then Lena wants more too.

She buries her face in Lena's neck, reveling in the way her tongue and teeth draw out ragged gasps from the woman beneath her.

They both grind their hips, searching for friction, but Lena's dress is in the way. By some unspoken agreement, Lena lifts her hips and Kara balances on her knees and her mouth on Lena's shoulder - one hand pushing the dress up and out of the way and the other jerking Lena's panties down past her knees.

She has little time for a victory celebration though, because Lena uses her distraction at staying balanced to flip them over.

"Hey!" she half-heartedly protests, but it falls on deaf ears as Lena gives the seam of buttons on her dress shirt a sharp tug - sending buttons flying across the room.

Lena uses her hand on Kara's chest to balance as she leans back on her heels and as Kara takes in the scene; she would swear under oath that she'd never seen a more beautiful sight.

Lena's fancy dress is rucked up and twisted; and breasts that were once merely teasing their presence are now playing a very indecent game of hide and seek with every ragged breath her chest heaves. Her once immaculate lip stick is smeared almost pornographically, and more of her jet black locks are framing her face than are left in her bun.

"You're beautiful." Kara breathes out reverently, fingertips tracing an indistinct pattern up Lena's thigh.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go put on that Tom Ford suit - "

"Don't you dare put on any more clothes." Kara lets some of her signature 'Supergirl' authoritative tone leech into her voice, but Lena only laughs.

"Or what?" she teases, even as Karas hand slides between her legs and her fingers swipe through her slick.

"Or I'll have to rip them off of you."

"Is that a threat?" Lena moans as Kara's fingers explore her heat. "Or a promise?"

Kara grins wickedly, two fingers sinking into Lena's cunt with practiced ease.

"Oh, that's definitely a promise."

It's something she's watched probably a hundred times, but there's just something about Lena riding her fingers that she can't tear her eyes away from.

Kara's name sounds like a prayer on Lena's lips, and she can't help but feel a rush of pride at the blush that's spreading across Lena's chest.

One of Lena's hands is behind her on Kara's knee for leverage and support, and the other is fisted in the remnants of Kara's shirt. The green pendant that Kara made her for their last anniversary bounces just above her breasts, drawing Kara's attention but then Lena moans her name again, and she's distracted - watching pearly white teeth sink into maroon lipstick stained lips.

It's a beautiful thing watching Lena come undone, feeling Lena come undone.

The way her body rocks and trembles as she reaches the edge of orgasm, as she clenches around Kara's fingers, as her eyes roll back and drift closed- senses too overwhelmed to keep them open.

It's almost as beautiful as the lazy smile that crosses Lena's face as the last rhythmic shocks fade. The way her body sags almost in relief to be released from the building tension.

Almost as beautiful as the way Lena's hand pushes hers away as the stimulation becomes too much. The way she collapses next to Kara on the bed, already moving into snuggle position before her body fully hits the mattress. The way she pants as she joins her hand with Kara's and brings them to her lips to give an almost innocent kiss the fingers that brought her to ruin.

"That's - I'm just - give me a second." Lena pleads, but Kara only laughs placing a kiss to their joined hands herself before easing off the bed and slipping back to the living room to grab her phone.

"Hey!" Lena's weak protest calls after her. "Where are you going?"

Before the words have even completely left her mouth, Kara is rounding the doorway to the bedroom; taking in Lena's disheveled state with a grin.

"Well, I figure if we order those appetizers now, they'll be here by the time we finish the next round."

[prolix-yuy]

Writers’ Iron Chef #10: The List

[PROMPT] Half the names on the list have already been crossed off.

[TIME LIMIT] Optional, 10 minutes prep. time 30 minutes writing time Optional, 10 minutes editing time

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Rating: T, flirtingggg, Marcus being way too sweet and way too smooth.

Summary: Did he really just say that?

Notes: Written for Writers’ Iron Chef Prompt 10.

This little scene (with some creative liberties taken) actually happened to me a few weeks ago, and what better Pedro boy to stand in for the rando I met than Marcus Pike. Technically there's no gendered language in here, but I wrote it with a F!Reader in mind. Enjoy a little meet cute fun!

“So your friends are the kind that are always late too?”

The question catches you off guard, head turning at the unfamiliar voice. It’s Friday night, a birthday dinner with friends, and you’re indeed waiting. You’d already gone up to the hostess stand, scanning her reservation list when she didn’t find your name immediately. Half the names on the list had already been crossed off, but yours was close to the bottom.

Your phone lights up. Only ten minutes late. You’d waited longer.

“Yeah...” you say back to the man sitting on the other end of the bench. He’s sporting some nicely fitted jeans, a gray t-shirt and leather jacket, which clash sweetly against his soft expression. Clean-shaven with short brown hair framing sparkling brown eyes, his features are eye-catching, a square jaw and curved nose over ridiculously full lips. Any clever retort you had fades to nothing in his knowing gaze.

“Mine too, I should really tell them to be here fifteen minutes early so they’ll be on time for once,” he jokes with a boyish smile. Returning the smile, you turn your phone’s screen over and tilt your head at him. 

“That’s a great idea, I’ll have to borrow it for next time,” you muse, and his eyes crinkle up when he smiles just a little bit bigger. It makes your pulse flutter, which you ignore. Just pleasant conversation.

He gives you his name - Marcus - and you offer yours, enjoying the way he rolls it off his tongue.

“Have you been here before?” he asks, hands folded in his lap and ankle resting on his knee. The undivided attention makes you a little giddy, easing quickly from surprise to comraderie.

“Before it went under new management. I like what they’ve done with the place,” you reply, eyes passing over the updated decor. “You?”

“First time, my friends love it,” he says, looking at his own phone with a shake of his head. “Anything fun planned?” 

“My friend’s birthday, we’re making a night of it.” You normally wouldn't divulge, but this stranger has settled comfort in your chest. “Dinner, then salsa dancing after.” 

Marcus' eyebrows raise, smile mischievous. “You salsa dance?” he asks, and you halfheartedly realize how long it's been since a man has given you such rapt attention.

“Yeah, I know a few moves,” you say, and his impressed nod warms you.

“Well, it sounds like a lovely night,” he hums, twiddling his thumbs together as he looks over at you a little more coyly. “Though if it wasn’t your friend’s birthday, I’d suggest we ditch them all and go get something to eat ourselves.”

Your heartbeat hammers into high speed, heat rising up your neck. Stealing a glance back, you gauge his expression. He’s teasing on the surface, but underneath you can sense the ripple of truth in his suggestion. There’s nothing pushy about it. He’s already leaning back, making himself smaller, and you can tell he wouldn’t push if you scoffed at the suggestion. 

Eyes drawn to his hands, you admire the width of his palms, the artistic fold of his fingers together, how his thumb worries at the skin of his index. 

You open your mouth to speak and…

A rapid knock on the window turns your attention outside to your friends, waving through the glass. In the moment you have before they come through the door, you catch Marcus' eye. His expression is cool, resigned, pleasant. It makes you want to throw caution to the wind.

“Maybe next time?” you toss back before standing to hug the birthday girl. You miss his reaction, but you hope it’s pleased.

The dinner is excellent, filled with jokes and banter. After you were seated Marcus walked past and wished your friend a happy birthday, making you fumble with an explanation as the hostess seated him a couple tables away. As engaging as the company is, your eyes keep slipping over to him. His seat faces yours, and on more than one occasion you catch each other's eyes, exchanging exaggerated expressions or warm smiles.

It’s exciting, but you can't get ahead of yourself. No way he’s actually single, or actually thinks you're cute enough to pick up in a restaurant, or actually wants to talk to you again after that brief conversation. It's just harmless fun, and when the bill comes he’ll leave without a fuss.

The evening wraps up, most of the table leaving together for a bathroom break. You hold back, waiting for the bill to return with the wad of credit cards you apologetically foisted onto the waitress. After they’ve rounded the corner out of sight you search for Marcus' smile once more.

His table is empty.

Even with the preparation, it still twists your stomach just a little knowing the fun is done. A titillating moment, fleeting and fast. At least it will make you smile for a few days.

A person comes to your shoulder, and presuming it’s the waiter you turn to face them.

It’s Marcus, slipping a piece of folded-up receipt paper onto the table in front of you.

“For next time,” he says, a lopsided smile resplendent with dimples shining down on your dazed face. His hand brushes against the back of yours before he jaunts out to meet his friends, tossing a wink behind his back.

On the paper is his phone number, and a message:

I promise I'll be on time.

END

Join my Taglist!

[volucerrubidus]

Updated my Rules recently; there are a few new additions, so I'm going to copy/paste them here for ease of reading! If you don't feel like going through every single line to see what's new, the main section that's new is the "Disclaimers" section at the bottom. Otherwise, I've just altered wording, sorted things into categories, and tried to make everything clearer and easier to understand. Thanks everybody!

--

I am not harsh about enforcing these rules, but I will ask politely that you abide by them! They are in place to ensure that we have a good time together!

I usually hate DNIs, but I do want to make it clear: if I find out you are not pro-Palestine, I will hardblock you and move on. End of story. 

Basics:

Mun is 24. This is an 18+ blog.

Please note that if I can’t see what age bracket you’re in anywhere on your page, then I’m not taking a chance. You don’t have to disclose your age to me, but if I don’t see at least something that says you’re an adult, or over the age of 18 in some way, then I’m not going to follow back, and will softblock you. If you follow again, I will hard block you.  

RP etiquette applies. No godmodding, no metagaming, etc. Mun is not muse. Don’t assume your muse can automatically beat Tim in a fight. There’s more on combat below, but just be fair, and plot it with me beforehand.

Activity:

This blog is selective and mutuals-only. That said, I’m very likely to follow back/follow first. If you don’t follow me back in a week or two, I’ll unfollow again.

If I ever follow you a second time (or more times after that because I have memory issues and I’m not here often enough to remember urls well [I am so sorry]), I promise that I’m not trying to make you follow; it’s likely because I forgot about the first/previous time. Feel free to soft/hardblock me for your own comfort if it happens! I’ll do my best to avoid doing this. 

I am a low-activity blog; I work a full-time job, and struggle with energy and brain fog. Tim is also a finnicky muse.

Please do not pester me for replies. I will respond when I can.

Interactions:

Personals are free to follow, look, and like, but please do not reblog any of my posts.

Asks are a fantastic way to interact with me, and perhaps the best way. Often, I cannot access tumblr on the browser due to my work, so asks are something I can do on mobile at a higher frequency than threads.

If you want to continue from an ask answer, please make a separate post. If you don’t, then I will transfer to a new post on my turn.

I do not do M!A’s (magic!anons) unless I specifically reblog an M!A post– otherwise, I will not respond if you send one in.

Don’t forceship with me. Ships come from chemistry. That said, you are welcomed with open arms to tell me if you want to ship with Tim, and we can go from there! I do reserve the right to deny a ship, but if that’s the case, then I’ll work with you to plot a fun and interesting dynamic that makes us both happy!

I don’t do exclusives or mains; please don’t ask me to make you one or the other. If you do have exclusives or mains, then that’s awesome! No judgement either way; I just personally won’t have them on my blog.

Please reblog memes from the source. This is to keep my activity page easier for me to keep up with. 

Content:

I don’t rp smut.

I don’t use fancy text formatting for the sake of my own ability to proofread my writing. You are welcome to continue to use whatever text formatting you’d like, though!

I will make sure to tag any warnings that I find necessary (and upon request if I miss something!), and in turn, I ask that you please tag topics involving non-con situations. Thank you!

Communication:

If I do something you don’t like, PLEASE tell me! I want this to be fun for everyone involved, but if I don’t know that I did something you were uncomfortable with, then I can’t fix it, and thus, we are no longer mutually having fun. I know confrontation is daunting, and people have probably treated you very poorly when you tried to communicate a grievance in the past; it’s happened to me, and it’s happened to so many people I know. I will do my best to be kind, fair, open, and apologetic, and I will do what I can to help rectify the situation, no matter how big or small. Come open a dialogue; I’ll be happy to have one with you. 

I chat in the tags often.

If there’s something in a thread that you want to discuss, please come chat with me about it!

Please tell me if you want to ship! I want to know!

If you have a plot request, send it my way!

Combat between muses is going to come up often on this blog given the muse and source material. If a thread starts to go in that direction, I require that we plot out the fight before proceeding, so that we can work together to write a scene that both goes the way we need it to for plot reasons, AND goes the way we want it to for fun reasons. The only exception to this is people I’ve written with for long enough that I feel we will not accidentally step on each other’s toes during a fight.

Disclaimers:

I do not and will never ship Tim with Bruce, Dick, Jason, Cass, Duke, or Damian. If you write batcest, I don’t care, but I will not follow you. If you follow me, I’m likely to soft or hard block. The only exception to this is multimuse blogs who have muses I want Tim to interact with, or blogs that have a clear line of separation between batcest and batfamily interactions. I will be HIGHLY selective about this, though.

If you do not make it clear on your blog that you ship batcest, and then we become mutuals, and I see you suddenly start writing batcest, I will softblock you. It is not personal; I just don’t want to read that stuff on my own personal dash. I just ask for honesty. Please don’t trick me into following you; tumblr rp follower counts are not that important.

For full transparency: I do think the pro/anti debate is stupid. Those words are thrown around willy-nilly to vilify people or virtue signal, and I will not entertain that discourse on this blog. In my humble opinion, anyone can write whatever they want in fandom spaces, and I just would hope that tags are used appropriately, so that people can curate what they read or view. I personally could not care less what another writer ships; if there’s stuff I don’t wanna see, I’ll just not look for it, and I won’t follow people who write it. Simple as that.

You’ll see it in my bio too, but I want to address it here as well: I actively dislike fanon, and it will have no place in my writing of Tim. I don’t care if your muse draws from fanon—you do you—but don’t be shocked if my Tim acts surprised or confused by fanon assumptions of him (ex: if your muse brings Tim coffee to drink, he will be very confused as to why that was the choice. Tim Drake is not a coffee drinker). I am not going to gatekeep your experience with comics, and I am never going to send you anything that might make you feel bad for how you write your character. I love everyone’s interpretations, and I like seeing different takes on them! I just think it’s courteous to put this note here to be fully open and honest.

Thank you for taking the time to read through all of this; I know it’s long! I hope you have a fantastic day, and I look forward to writing with you! :D

[blondebatt]

RULE ONE  this account is for roleplay only, i will only be interacting with rp accounts. personal blogs are fine to follow, but please do not interact with my posts.

i will not follow back/write with characters who participate in b*tcest. if i have come across your blog and followed: i definitely did this by accident. feel free to block. no hate, no drama. the stuff triggers me so i prefer to keep it off my dash. thanks!

RULE TWO  it’s completely fine if you don’t agree with the character choices i’ve made, but i ask that you are respectful and kind. no one likes gatekeeping, or drama, and there’s always an option to just not interact.

RULE THREE  this blog is for 20+ muns only. my content is teen-appropriate but the bottom line is this: i like to keep my spaces adult only as i am in my late twenties myself. nothing personal! please do not lie about your age, it's not cool.

RULE FOUR  my depiction is not like wayne family adventures. stephanie is associated with batman's crew, but i do not consider her a part of the 'family'. she is a coworker at times and family member's girlfriend/best friend at others. my muse is also canonically batgirl, in present times, not spoiler. please be warned that stephanie may not appreciate or respond well to above things if assumed by your character.

RULE FIVE  MUN DOES NOT EQUAL MUSE. my character may say and do things that do not reflect the thoughts/beliefs/actions of my own life.

RULE SIX  i am both selective and incredibly slow/sporadic at checking out blogs before following. thank u for your patience.

i haven't forgotten about our thread! you don't need to remind me. my muse comes and goes, and adhd brain takes over most of the time. sporadic replies apply. sometimes you'll get a reply within ten minutes, sometimes it'll be months. this is a hobby that i enjoy and never want anyone else to feel pressured to respond.

RULE SEVEN  if you have certain tags blacklisted i make sure that i use the format #cw ____ with no other special characters. due to the general nature of DC comics, there will be discussion and plotting surrounding dangerous situations / general violence. stephanie brown also may have content on this blog that refers back to: - unhealthy/abusive relationships with family members - underaged drug use/unprotected sex/underaged pregnancy - S.A. - torture

These will be tagged responsibly and to the absolute best of my ability. These are serious subjects and deserve to be treated with care and respect. It is not 'whump' fiction, to me.

RULE EIGHT  basic ettiquette applies here. i cut my threads, i use reblog karma, and i start a new post for ask answers. i ask that my roleplaying partners do the same. i also reserve the right to unfollow/softblock at any times if i feel as if we are not a good match as roleplaying partners or if i find the content to not match with the content i am trying to write. i am also never offended if any other parties do the same to me.

RULE NINE  for shipping: both of us will need to opt-in for it to be applied. i will never force ships on anyone, and i ask that others do the same. that goes for 'canon ships' as well. If those are referenced they are ALWAYS from a 'different version' of your muse.

RULE TEN  ask memes are always the easiest for me to break the ice. i assume nothing except what i learn on your character bio and rules. i try really hard not to 'connect the dots' when it comes to pre-established relationships, but hey we're always learning and growing! bc of this, if our characters in canon are 'tight', then i might reach out via dms and just catch a vibe of your portrayal and how you want to tackle our muses together.

[neteyamyawne]

༊*·˚ — 1K FOLLOWERS EVENT!

✵ Nature's Flow – I have decided to go with a intractable event because I have other things to work on and I still want to have a event for hitting 1K! Please i have very little time to write for fics, I'm gonna go on a hiatus soon after Kinkmas is over because of my exams but I'll still try to write, maybe in my future events I'll do fanfics!

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©Neteyamyawne2023 | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!

[mythvoiced]

Character Interview: @enchcntd​ Connie & Felix

( repost, don’t reblog )

BASICS

NAME: Lee Connie NICKNAME: Con, Con-con, Connifer AGE: 25 SPECIES: Human

PERSONAL

MORALITY: Chaotic Good RELIGION: Agnostic SINS: greed / gluttony / sloth / lust / pride / envy /  wrath VIRTUES: chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE: Initially, to just make enough money that he doesn’t ever have to worry about anything in his life again. Initially, his goal was a bit on the... shallow side of things. He wanted a heckton of cash, a big mansion, and five cars, just so he could shove it into his parents’ face, so he could prove to the world and himself that he is who and what he is and owns more than most could make in twelve years. But meeting Devon took him off that slippery slope before he could fully put his entire foot on it. Now, he just wants peace. He wants to be at Devon’s side and make the most of what they have. KNOWN LANGUAGES: Korean (fluent), English (fluent), Spanish (he used to watch way too many telenovelas, he’s picked up a few lines) PHYSICAL BUILD: scrawny  / bony /  slender  / fit / athletic  /  curvy  /  herculean  /  pudgy  /  average HEIGHT: 6′ because we love one tall boi with baby energy WEIGHT: n/a bc meh SCARS  /  BIRTHMARKS: He has a few moles here and there, namely on his shoulders, his nape, collarbone, waist, and inner thigh, but no noteworthy scars. As a child, he never got to play outside with the other children, also because there weren’t any other children, since he grew up in a rich neighbourhood where you’d get yelled at for breathing like a commoner. As an information broker, he’s had some close calls, but he’s always been a fast runner and avoided most conflicts. ABILITIES  / POWERS: No supernatural abilities/powers available RESTRICTIONS: N/a

FAVORITES

FOOD: His love for Korean food only seemed to grow after he left South Korea and especially after he settled down indefinitely with Devon, but he’s also really, really fond of the spiciest Indian food you can find on the market DRINK: He’s one pristine binch so he loves his white wine, but when it comes to casual non-alcoholic drinking, he really likes sodas and surprisingly, really loves orange juice PIZZA TOPPING: A good ol’ margherita is good for him, with extra cheese please. Or one without cheese, but a heckton of garlic to compensate. COLOR(S): He’s very fond of green tones, but also light blue and auburn MUSIC GENRE: Likes Kpop, but only if he can bop his head to it; Latin music, because he likes to dance to it (he’s no dancer, really, but enjoys himself), and any summer hit currently playing on the radio (no matter the language, really). BOOK GENRE: He really likes to use his brain and gather information with it, and he’s interested in history, but then again he’s a bit of a crackhead, so you can find him reading Spider-Man (he’s especially fond of the Miles Morales ones) comics one moment, the next a biography on Nikola Tesla, enjoying them both equally MOVIE GENRE: He likes action packed things that will keep him at the edge of his seat, but he isn’t too opposed to the occasional romcom (and his fricking telenovelas). He loves sitcoms because they’re perfect to sit in front of and unwind in front of, without having to use too much brain power SEASON: Summer CURSE WORD: All of them SCENTS: Anything that smells like fresh take-out, he’s a foodie and not keeping it a secret

FUN STUFF

BOTTOM OR TOP: Le Bottòm SINGS IN THE SHOWER?: Nah, he gets in, gets wet, gets out, gets dry

Felix under the cut

BASICS

NAME: Arthus ap Bledig Felix NICKNAME: Anything Roman wants to call him AGE: 25 at the time of his death 738 SPECIES: Deceased human; walking dead; revenant

PERSONAL

MORALITY: Chaotic Neutral RELIGION: Atheist SINS: greed / gluttony / sloth / lust / pride / envy /  wrath VIRTUES: chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE: To end it, for a very long time. There is no point to his existence KNOWN LANGUAGES: Korean (fluent), English (fluent), Spanish (he used to watch way too many telenovelas, he’s picked up a few lines) PHYSICAL BUILD: scrawny  / bony /  slender  / fit / athletic  /  curvy  /  herculean  /  pudgy  /  average HEIGHT: 6′ because we love one tall boi with sub energy WEIGHT: n/a bc meh SCARS  /  BIRTHMARKS: He is missing one nail from his fingers (specifically his left pinky); also if were to run your fingers over his chest, specifically his left peck, you’ll be able to feel a slight bump from a scar, although the scar itself is no longer visible ABILITIES  / POWERS: Can travel through time and dimensions through interdimensional riffs; immortality, although to define it more accurately: it’s not that Felix can’t die, he’s already dead, and his body is stuck in the state it was in at the moment of his death, his heart (what’s left of it, anyway, part of it is in Scelus) doesn’t beat, he doesn’t need to breathe (although, he does out of habit), he doesn’t bleed, if you injure him his body/skin will always return to the state it was in before RESTRICTIONS: He can’t open any riffs; he has no control over when he’ll be pulled through one of those riffs or where/when he’ll end up; due to the inchangeability of his body neither his nails nor his hair grow; he cannot see the riffs when they open, he’s only able to vaguely sense he’s being pulled away by suddenly smelling, hearing, or seeing things that don’t belong to the world/space he’s in; 

FAVORITES

FOOD: He loves sweet pastries, anything strawberry flavoured, and strawberry and cream DRINK: The stronger the alcoholic drink the better, although it wouldn’t be recommended because his liver hardly works and the alcohol stays in his system longer due to that (his organs do not work, it has to be a conscious choice on his part) PIZZA TOPPING: He doesn’t eat pizza a lot, he prefers sweet things COLOR(S): Dark blue, preferably anything that resembles the night sky;  MUSIC GENRE: Orchestra, classical music, or anything with no singing/instrumental BOOK GENRE: Not much of a reader (it took him a while to learn how to read in the first place) MOVIE GENRE: He doesn’t like watching movies SEASON: None CURSE WORD: As many as he can fit into one sentence SCENTS: Anything flowery and sweet, anything that smells alive

FUN STUFF

BOTTOM OR TOP: Le Sùb SINGS IN THE SHOWER?: Nope, not really his thing, he has an existential crisis instead

[koishua]

𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ─── 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

synopsis: in which you've been stood up by your date, but so has he. warnings: mentions of food. (0.802k words).

author's note: dug this out of my mountain of drafts and am happy with how not angsty this is lmfao. enjoy!!

© KOISHUA 2022, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | REBLOG! FEEDBACK!

Blind dates are fun, they'd said. It will be a nice change for once, they'd said.

Lies. So far into the wait for your date who still had not come yet despite already being forty minutes late, absolutely nothing had been enjoyable. Not in the slightest way had anything been more than boring and frankly, downright embarrassing. Who’d even sit alone in the middle of a cafe without a single drink or dessert on their table for over half an hour?

The waitress who’d come over to ask you if everything was alright just a few moments ago walks by again, a sympathetic smile painted daintily over her perfectly stained lips. Your eyes trail across the establishment, appreciative of the architecture and design of the space. It’s been remodeled ever since you’d last visited, though the cozy atmosphere did the bare minimum in holding off the ugly feeling crawling its way around your body.

You’ve been stood up.

Glancing at the blearing phone screen hidden on your lap, you check for any recent notifications, though none seem relevant to the current matter in hand. You’d dressed up in your favorite clothing and had mentally prepared yourself for the night, yet here you still are; alone and fuming.

God, a small keyboard pops up from the bottom of your screen and you type furiously. Once I’m back, I’m strangling you and no one can save you from my hands, you oh-so kindly relay to Yeji. You don’t even know what possessed you to agree with her set-up in the first place. Her plans were always bound to fail because of her awful streak of bringing misfortune upon everything she touches. Sometimes you’d feel bad for the kind roommate of yours, but tonight you are going on a hunt.

The least I can do for myself is buy a cheesecake for emotional compensation.

The gold accented table is smooth under your touch, clearly expensive even by the first glance of it. Hearing the heavy drag of the chair as you slide out of your seat, you fish out your wallet from the leather purse hanging neatly from the backrest. It’s then as you’re rounding around a large pot of some kind of a green plant that you come eye to eye with the man sitting alone in the corner. His hair seemed to initially be dyed a shocking pink, though it had faded away into more of a peach and cotton candy mixture.

A moment of understanding passes by, something instantly clicking right into place when he shrugs with a lopsided smile. It takes you off-guard, the upturn of his lips. The jet black leather jacket and piercings, along with the sharp looks he has does not seem to match with the warmth he radiates when he smiles. You really can never judge anyone by their appearance, you muse in wonder.

“No date?” He inquires in a friendly tone from where he is still seated, easy and relaxed. Not a hint of scorn is laced in his question. Instead, there is something playful and knowing shining through. Your head nods before you can think of a proper way to answer.

“No, you?” You return the sentiment, guessing that the second plate on the seat across him had been reserved for the missing date of his own. The cheesecake, the one that you’d wanted to reward yourself with for not breaking down in anger fits over falling victim to being stood up, is completely untouched. His tart is barely eaten as well.

With a sigh, he rests his chin on the back of his pale, smooth hands, “I’ve been waiting for like,” he checks the expensive watch on his other wrist, “over an hour by now. No sign of anyone arriving any time soon, unfortunately.”

It’s a funny coincidence, your thoughts stray to the philosophy class you’d taken yesterday. The professor had gone for ages about whether or not things were destined to happen or if they were simply a play of luck; a coincidence. You don’t know, you hadn’t really paid attention to his drawn out speech.

Fate or not, however, the man in front of you stretches out a hand. “Hi, I’m Lee Heeseung.” You take the second seat in front of him, worries forgotten as you fall into a conversation that lasts longer than the time you’d waited for on your own table, all worries forgotten just by his charming smiles and intriguing stories.

All it had taken for you to meet the one person you’d cherish the most in your life was an empty seat and a small, happy little coincidence. It could have been fate that had led you to him, but you’d leave that matter into your professor’s hands.

Yeji was not strangled in fury that night, in case you're wondering.

[sunder-soul]

Nox Part II

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. 

Lumos

Summary: Everything comes to light eventually... Wordcount: 3.1k Content warning: explicit sex scenes, oral sex (male-receiving).

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

PART I HERE 💖

You try to stop thinking about it. You try very hard not to think about Tom’s lips in the dark, warm and soft on yours, moving hot on your neck, the sound of him exhaling through his nose as you slide your hands under his shirt, his heady intoxicating aroma, musk and bergamot, his hands holding you to him tightly as he kisses you, the burning way he’d looked at you afterwards, dishevelled and raw, his tongue his hair his fingers his warmth –

You try very, very hard.

“What’s going on with you?” Ruth frowns after you’ve zoned out during Herbology again.

“Sorry,” you sigh, frowning down at the baby Venomous Tentacula you’re supposed to be pruning. “Just tired.”

Technically it wasn’t a lie – you’d been struggling to fall asleep all week, the memory of a particular seven minutes on repeat in your mind.

“Tired?” Ruth repeats, looking supremely unconvinced.

You shrug. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”

Ruth leans closer. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with Riddle would it?” she asks slyly.

Your head whips around. “Excuse me?”

“He’s looking pretty tired himself,” Ruth smirks, arching a brow and shooting Tom a conspiratorial look across the Greenhouse, and you can’t help but look over, too.

She’s right. Tom’s eyes are visibly shadowed, levelled on the Venomous Tentacula in front of him, his movements reserved and muted and his expression subdued even as the boys on either side of him wrestle furiously with the fronds curling tenaciously around their pruners.

“He always looks like that,” you mutter, frowning at your own plant.

“Does he now?” she says smugly.

You give her a look of warning. “Ruth...”

“Did you really just talk in that closet?” she whispers, leaning closer.

“Yes, for the hundredth time, nothing happened,” you sigh, “we’re talking about Tom Riddle, for Merlin’s sake, he’s not exactly the type to –”

“He’s looking at you.”

Your head snaps up so fast that your neck audibly cracks – only to find Tom’s downcast gaze is still on his plant, trimming it calmly. You glare at Ruth who now looks (somehow) even more smug.

“Nothing happened, huh?” she snickers.

“You’re mean,” you grumble. “Don’t do that…”

“Do you like him?”

You press your lips together. You’ve been asking yourself the same question all week. On the one hand, you didn’t really know him that well and you could probably count the conversations you’ve had on one hand. On the other…

Tom’s fingers brush your cheek, achingly gentle as he tucks your hair behind your ear and you can’t look away from the heaviness in his eyes, his voice barely above whisper but you can hear it in your chest –

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “Maybe.”

Ruth claps you on the shoulder sympathetically, looking significantly more sombre.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

When you hear about the Slugclub afterparty, it takes no convincing at all to get you to agree to go – Ruth gives you an extremely knowing smirk, but thankfully she says nothing.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“You look nice,” Ruth grins, linking her arm through yours as you hurry towards the entrance to the party – whilst Slughorn hosted his elitist little gatherings in his office on the sixth-floor, the real fun began when he finally had one too many glasses of brandy and sent everyone to bed, only for half of his guests to sneak a few doors down into the Glanmore Peakes Corridor and invite the majority of their year to join them. “Hoping someone in particular is in attendance?” Ruth adds, shooting you a sly smile.

“Stop,” you mutter, but your face feels warm.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

He’s not at the party. You keep looking around, but he’s not there.  You suddenly feel ridiculous for having expected him to be.  

You last a good two hours before the shouting horde of students and the deafening music gets too much. “I’m tired,” you shout into Ruth’s ear, “do you want to go?”

“I’m staying!” she bellows back over the thrum. “I’ll see you in the morning!”

You nod and duck away, weaving through the crowd and only just manage to avoid Jasper Crockett spilling his Butterbeer all over you, but the swerve nearly sends you stumbling back directly into –

“Careful,” Tom says in your ear, his warm hands catching your arms.

You freeze, your heart thudding hard. You can feel warmth on your back like his chest is almost touching you and your head is suddenly filled with that achingly familiar, ridiculously attractive aroma –

Tom lowers his hands and you turn to look up at him, a mix of nerves and excitement battling in your stomach. He’s just as refined as ever, tidy jumper, black slacks, the dark waves of his hair impeccable, and suddenly you’re desperately trying to avoid thinking about spreading your fingers through it, tugging up the jumper and pushing your hands beneath the hem of his shirt, kissing him hard, resuming where you’d left off –

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” you say loudly, leaning slightly closer so he can hear you. Again, technically not a lie… ‘hoping’ isn’t the same as ‘expecting.’

Tom’s eyes slide thoughtfully across the crowd. Up close he looks even more tired, shadows under his eyes and something drawn to his face. “I didn’t expect to be here,” he says quietly.

Somehow, despite the music and the shouts, you hear him effortlessly.

“I was just leaving,” you say, gesturing at the door.

Tom’s eyes snap to yours. You half-expect him to say something, but he doesn’t.

“I… I guess I’ll see you in class,” you add, feeling awkward.

He nods, expression blank.

Wondering exactly what you’d been expecting (and why you’d been expecting anything in the first place), you turn and speed away, feeling extremely embarrassed.

Idiot. He said he wasn’t a romantic, didn’t he? What exactly did you think would happen?

You shove the door open and hurry outside, walking as fast as you can towards the hidden staircase that led down to the dungeons so you could loop back up to the Hufflepuff common room, avoiding the prefects and the professors patrolling the main staircase. You yank the door to the stairs open when –

“Wait.”

You freeze, heart pounding, and look back over your shoulder. Tom is striding down the corridor towards you, calm and patient, and your heart skips a beat as he comes closer and closer, showing no signs of stopping.

“I’ll come with you,” he says quietly, reaching out and placing a hand above yours on the door.

“Not staying?” you ask as you nod back down towards the party, sounding so casual that you impress yourself.

Tom’s lips flicker like you’ve told a joke. “No,” he says softly. “I’ve had quite enough of parties, I think.”

“Didn’t you just arrive?” you smile as you step lightly down the stairs.

“Yes, I did,” he muses as he follows you, the faintest brush of humour in his voice. “And how exactly did you know that?”

A wave of hot panic washes through you. “I didn’t see you there earlier,” you say quickly, eyes on your feet.

“Were you looking for me?” Tom asks, still sounding amused.

You glance at him, frowning uneasily. You can’t tell if the amusement is at your expense or not – but he only looks back, expression smooth and imperviously casual. “I would have noticed you,” you say diplomatically, lowering your gaze back to the steps before you. “You’re not exactly a common face to see at something like that.”

“Neither are you,” he says quietly.

Your pulse speeds up a bit. “And yet we were both there,” you smile.

Tom looks at you and for a moment you’re trapped in his gaze, and it drags on for just a second too long before both of you look away. You both fall silent, not a word spoken as you finally reach the bottom of the stairs and sneak through the door into the dungeons. You both stop, Tom turning slightly in the direction of the Slytherin common room, and you towards the main stairs. There’s a strangely weighty silence.

“Well,” you say bracingly, forcing a smile. “Thanks for coming with me, I guess I’ll –”

“Have you been thinking about it?” Tom interrupts calmly.

You stare at him. His face half-illuminated by the dull lanterns, his expression still unreadable but with an unignorable heaviness to his gaze and you feel like you’re falling, your stomach jolting like you’ve missed a stair, leaned too far back in a chair –

It’s pointless to pretend like you don’t know what he means. “Yes,” you say quietly.

Tom’s expression shifts slightly, such a small difference that it’s barely noticeable, but he looks like he expected your answer. He looks like he knew he’d be right.

“Have you?” you ask evenly.

Tom’s dark eyes reveal nothing. In the long silence before his reply, you get the distinct impression that he’s measuring you somehow.

“Yes,” he says softly, and you hear it like he’s saying it right in your ear again. “I have.”

As you look back at him, suddenly all you can think about is the fact that the corridor is deserted except for the two of you, that most of the school is still at the party a good seven floors away and the rest will be in bed.

That there’s an empty classroom through the door inches to your right.

You take a step towards him, and another, and another, holding his gaze, watching for a reaction – but you find none. He simply watches you draw nearer, silent and even. When you stop, you’re much too close for your intentions to be misinterpreted.

“And what exactly have you been thinking about?” you ask softly. The flickering lights are casting deep shadows under his cheekbones, turning his hair blacker, his features sharper – but none of it makes his appearance so striking as the heat building in his eyes.

“I think you know,” he says smoothly, barely above whisper.

You slowly reach up and place your hand on his cheek, watching his eyes flicker before you step in closer still. You lean in close, bringing your lips mere millimetres away from his jaw, and the space between your mouth and his skin aches like it wants to be closed. “You’re not going to tell me?” you murmur, breathing him in and feeling dizzy at once.

Tom swallows, his head falling slightly as your lips very nearly graze his skin. “Are you going to try to order me around again?” he says quietly, voice impressively even.

You gently push on his cheek, bringing his face around to yours. His gaze locks onto you at once, still burning, so close –

“Are you going to pretend like you don’t want me to again?” you smile against his lips.

Tom’s eyes flicker and without a second of warning he kisses you hard. His lips move hot, unrelenting, hungrily on yours, his hands press against your cheeks and his fingers card into your hair, pulling you into the kiss even harder. You’re trying to stay balanced as dizziness, pleasure, and relief crash over you in equal measures, desperately leaning up into the kiss and trying to match his fervour, but it’s not enough.

Tom steps back quickly, his hands against your face drawing you with him without breaking the kiss – you hear the door swing open without being touched and the second you’re through it slams shut behind you. Tom immediately pushes you against it hard, crowding in close, kissing you ravenously and you can barely breath for the tightness in your chest, tangling your fingers in his hair to draw him closer. He pulls away and you barely have a second to think before his lips sear burning hot on your neck, your head falling to the side as stars erupt across your vision, and then Tom presses his teeth against your skin and you moan, barely aware of the sounds you’re making as the pleasure spreads.

Tom exhales hard, a hand dropping from your face and sliding slowly down your body – his touch is firmer than last time, hungrier, and as his lips linger on the slope between your neck and your shoulder, his fingers slip under your dress. His teeth graze your skin again, achingly delicate, and your eyes fall shut, breathing hard, your hands balling into fists of his jumper because it feels so good –

His warm palm slides up the inside of your thigh and a dizzying wave of anticipation and desire courses through you, a noise escaping your throat only to be muffled by his lips.

Tom pulls away and leans his forehead to yours, his fingers tracing along the top of your underwear making you arch reflexively. “Let me touch you,” he breathes, so close that his words sweep warm across your lips, his hand on your face gently pushing your hair back. You can only just see him in the moonlight streaming through the little barred windows around the very top of the far wall, but you see enough to recognise the heat in his eyes, the hunger and the intensity. You nod quickly and kiss him hard, and Tom pushes his fingers into your underwear.

His breathing audibly quickens when he feels you, feels your desire for him, and your eyes squeeze shut as his fingers begin to move, slowly, ceaselessly, torturously even, edging you further into the heat spreading low in your stomach.

“You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?” Tom murmurs against your lips. “About my fingers doing this to you.”

You manage to nod, trying to keep yourself together – but as he kisses you very, very softly, a moan escapes unbidden from your lips.

“I’ve thought about it too,” he breathes, and you open your eyes to meet his dark, burning gaze, watching you. “I’ve been thinking about the sounds you made, and the way you moved –”

You choke on your moan, barely able to breathe as his fingers press a little harder and pleasure blooms and coils –

“But I’ve been wondering,” Tom whispers, his lips just barely brushing yours, “what you look like.”

“Tom,” you gasp, your hands curling tighter on his jumper.

He kisses you hard, and as you desperately kiss him back as the heat in your core swells, head spinning, arms sliding around his neck as you spiral out of control –

He pulls away right as it hits you, as your head falls back against the door, gasping as his fingers coax you through it. When you can finally open your eyes, Tom’s gaze is ravenous again, roaming across your face hungrily, insatiably.

Your hands flatten on his chest and you push him backwards, stepping with him as surprise falters on his face.

“What are you –” he says quickly, but you push harder and the backs of his legs hit one of the empty chairs behind him. He falls into it, the breath knocked from him as he looks up at you in shock.

You take his face in your palms and kiss him hard, bending to him, stepping in close – Tom’s hands come up seemingly reflexively and linger on your waist, but the second he tries to pull you closer, you break the kiss. He stares up at you, visibly stunned, unsure what you’re doing – and then you kneel.

Tom’s eyes widen as you lower to your knees between his legs, as your hands curl under the bottom of his jumper, push it up forcefully, tug his shirt free and exposing a strip of his pale stomach –

“Your turn,” you whisper, leaning forward without hesitation and pressing your lips against the warm skin you’ve revealed.  

Tom’s breath stutters, his hands going to your face as your lips graze his hipbone, and you look up at him as your fingers undo the button of his trousers, your mouth restless against his skin. Tom’s eyes flicker in exactly the way you’ve been daydreaming about and you don’t bother holding back your smile as you pull down his zip.

“You’re…” Tom says, but he trails off because you’ve pushed down his trousers, your lips not leaving his skin, holding his gaze the whole time. He’s hard but you press your mouth instead down the angle of his hipbone, gently grazing your teeth against his skin and watching his stomach muscles flex with strain.

Tom swallows, his lips a hard line before he tries again. “You’re teasing me.” His voice is hollow.

“I am,” you murmur against his skin, and when your lips start to trail back down his stomach, you hear Tom’s breathing quicken, his hands on your face restless as you inch lower, closer –

You look up at him as you run your tongue up underneath his whole length from base to tip and then you wrap your lips around him. A sound half-way between a choke and an exhale slips from between his lips as his eyes fall shut and his head cants forward, and you push a little deeper, arousal carrying you, letting your tongue work as you move slowly, as Tom’s fingers slowly curl tighter in your hair like he doesn’t realise that he’s doing it.

You take your time, letting your own eyes close, listening to his stilted breath to guide you, feeling his hands get tighter and tighter, and soon he starts holding you there more firmly, his head lifting and his dark eyes opening.

“You… should stop,” Tom manages to say, but even as he says it he’s pushing his fingers through your hair, staring down at you between his legs as you look right back with him in your mouth.

You smile and hold his gaze as you let your tongue curl around him and sink your lips back down. Tom’s eyes flicker and fall shut again, his breathing ragged and getting faster and faster as his grip in your hair goes so hard it hurts, and then suddenly you’re swallowing around him as a choking breath falls from his lips.

When it’s over, you sit back on your knees and assess him.

Tom’s chest is rising and falling a little more than usual as he tries to slow his breathing, his eyes still shut, his hair a mess and slightly stuck to his forehead where a slight sweat has formed. You’re leaning up and brushing it to the side without thinking, and his eyes open at the feeling of your fingers against his skin. You freeze, staring at him, your hand lingering on his cheek like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

“Too romantic?” you ask slowly, tilting your head to the side a bit. There’s a bit of humour in your tone, a safeguard, a way to turn it into a joke and disregard it if he wants to –

“No,” he says quietly, and his hands come to rest against your cheeks as he leans his forehead on yours again, still kneeling between his legs. “No, it’s not.”

 ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

TAGLIST: @jujugentle​ @original-coffee-addict​ 

Feel free to message me to get tagged in sequels/be on my permanent taglist!!

PART I HERE 💖

[randombtsprincessa]

Bed Bereft || Epilogue

All Rights Reserved. © RandomBTSPrincessa, Tulips98.

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Kim Taehyung x Reader x Kim Seokjin

Words: 18.7k (IT”S BELOW 20K SOMEONE HUG ME)

Genre: Smut, Angst (it ain’t mild this time, whoops), Fluff!

Rating: Mature (18+)

Summary: A month into your blissful relationship with your best friend and his boyfriend, you must face reality again.

Playlist: cln - Better Than (Feki Remix) Fluss - au revoir Phlux - Nym Zuri Akoko - Persian Rugs CRWN - Under Blankets (feat. Jessica Connelly)

Content Advisory - Office makeouts, semi public fingering, allusions to sex, getting drunk at work, lovers' spats, showers, making up, clubbing, social drinking, kitchen sex, oral female receiving, insecurities, doubts, fights, mentions of therapy pool sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, threesome (MMF), Polyamorous relationship, Polyphilia (all this, in addition to the previous warnings from Bed Bereft)

A/N: Happy birthday to TaeJin!...again! Dedicating this fic specially to @stealth-liberal​​.  I know I kept saying that it will be posted for months and months before but finally I decided that I would only get the any form of inspiration when the deadline hit. And naturally, that's when it happened. Enjoy!  As usual, please do let me know your thoughts on the work. And for Ask My Muse you can always hit me up! Requests for drabbles for Bed Bereft are open!

The edge of your wooden desk dug into the curve of your back, but by god, if it wasn’t the sweetest pain you’d ever felt. Your body was bowed back, with Taehyung’s arms wrapped around you. Each time you whimpered, those arms tightened; his tongue tracing over that one spot on your neck that incited shivers in you. He tickled his way up to your ear, sucking your earlobe into his mouth.

“Jin wants to meet us at our Thai restaurant.” He whispered when he released the sensitive flesh.

Your hands gripped onto the sides of his thick cream sweater - one of your favorites - and pulled slightly away from him. “Oh,” Your voice was heavy, but you managed a facade of composure. “I don’t see how that warrants your...untoward behaviour here right now - at work.”

Taehyung didn’t bother to hide his mischievous smirk. “Because you love it.”

Damn him , you did.

The heat of his body pressed against yours did all sorts of things to you and now that he knew it, he was blatantly using it to his own advantage. However it only made you feel hot instead of rightfully angry.

...Damn him.

Taehyung could already tell that you had no argument for him, pressing his lips to yours for a heady kiss. His lips caressed yours softly, the barest hint of his tongue brushing inside your bottom lip. When he pulled back - too soon for your liking - you tried not to chase after his mouth, pouting at his kind smile.

“Why don't you sort your stuff out here? Meet me in the parking lot in ten minutes, I’ll bring the car around.”

You nodded, his hands prying away from your waist deliberately. Taehyung blew you a parting flying kiss as he exited out of your office.

Thankfully, your floor was empty. And even if the building receptionist saw you leaving together it wouldn’t matter. Your best friend had been thought of as your boyfriend by anyone  and everyone who didn’t know you well enough. Aside from the fact that now he truly was your boyfriend, nothing had changed...not in your work, your routines, or your behaviour towards each other.

Ok, so maybe he made out with you in your office a lot more now, but aside from that, there were no glaring changes.

You were safe .

The first thing you did when you heard the elevator close after Taehyung was peek at the mirror you had on the wall. Your hair was mussed to one side where Taehyung’s hand had gripped it, and the first three buttons of your shirt popped open, a hint of your purple bra peeking through. You quickly buttoned up your shirt, fetching your brush to take care of your hair.

The Thai restaurant remained one of the things that hadn’t changed in your life, thankfully. The same swanky, dimly lit little place; it retained it’s cozy ambience with it’s spaced out, screened booths for privacy.

That came in handy whenever you dined out with your boyfriends...yep, boyfriend s.

You had never thought you’d be one of the people who got to claim two absolutely gorgeous, generous, gallant gentlemen as your lovers but here you were.

When you and Taehyung arrived, Jin was already in your usual booth, a menu propped open in front of his face. His eyes were focused on the sleek folder, blinking slowly behind his glasses. You had to contain the slight gasp that bubbled at your lips when you saw he was in a full black suit, the lapels glinting in the overhead lamp.

Beside you, Taehyung shamelessly released his groan, reaching Jin first. “Fuck, you look hot.” He said, with no filter of course.

Kim Seokjin looked up at his partners with an amused smile, chortling at the way the both of you ran your eyes over him. Taehyung let you slide in beside Jin, before huddling in close after you. He yanked the screen back into place for good measure.

“Hello, my loves,” Jin murmured, picking up your hand to place a kiss to your knuckles before mimicking the action for Tae. His businesslike mind usually stretched to PDA outside of the office, yes, but the conservative affection was a part of your request - with constant worry of the media attempting to snap pictures of the pair that they had been.

Any pictures where they slipped up and showed you physical affection could blow up in your faces.

“Hi,” You whispered, Tae’s head landing on your shoulder to pout at his boyfriend.

“Did you come straight from work?”

Jin nodded, making Taehyung sigh. “The things I would do to you in that suit.”

Jin laughed loudly at that, leaning in quickly to peck Taehyung’s cheek before looking at you. Thankfully, neither of them teased you about the wild flush that had flooded your neck at their blatant flirting. “And you, sweetheart, would you not want to do anything?”

You cleared your throat, trying to meet Jin’s eyes calmly. “I prefer turtlenecks.”

There was a split moment when Jin leaned in, as if to kiss you too before obviously remembering your request. He leaned back into his seat, clearing his own throat.

The atmosphere of the booth felt a bit constricted now.

You looked down resolutely, unable to meet their eyes anymore until Taehyung was dispelling the sudden tension. “Let’s get some food, I'm starving.”

“Oh god yes please, I didn’t even eat lunch today.” You blurted out, following his lead even as Jin frowned.

“Why not?”

“Well…Taehyung and Irene were out today to help a client with their collection of garden gnomes so I thought I’d go visit a site. It was evening and time to come back to the office before I knew it.” You shrugged it off mildly, flicking open the menu that Jin had discarded.

It wasn’t a big deal for you. You would sometimes forget to eat or just forgo it until Taehyung would come get you something or whisk you off to eat. It had been like that since you’d started at BHE.

“I think Jin takes it as a personal offense if you don’t eat, seeing as he’s a fair chef.”

“Excuse me, I am more than just ‘fair’.” Jin huffed at Taehyung, looking back at you. “Order whatever you want, darling. We’ll get something for tomorrow’s breakfast as well.”

Soon enough bowls of egg stew, green curry, chicken satays and fried rice steamed on the polished table. Elbows nudged against each other as you all piled your plates, tearing into the food.

For a few minutes all that there was, were slurps, munching and drinking of soda when a mouthful  got too spicy.

Jin talked in his usual mellow tone, mumbling about the day he had had and what all he needed to get done for the week. At proper intervals, Taehyung put in mild hums and low huffs of annoyance at a name while you sat silently.

You weren’t nearly as ingrained in their lives as to be able to know and comment on every aspect of their lives - definitely not Jin’s. He had no problem bringing you to his office - and you had only been there twice. But of course, that had been purely professional.

Now…well, now you weren’t sure if it was completely appropriate to show up there. At least not so recently…

It made you resign yourself to listen to him talk and try to grasp names and positions. You didn’t mind. You loved the higher pitch Jin had compared to Taehyung. While they both lowered their voice when they were angry…or horny, it remained that the two were different men and while you were completely used to Taehyung, knowing him down to his bones - Jin was still mostly a mystery to you.

Your eyes drifted out the window from Jin’s lowered face, his words now becoming background sound. There were more voices behind you, all chattering - all with lives of their own.

How many of those lives had been thrown for a loop recently?

How many were feeling comfortable where they were?

Your thoughts were jarred to the real world when you felt a warm hand clamp right onto your knee. Your leg shot up slightly, mind jumping back to reality to glance at Jin who was still talking.

To your other side, Taehyung had a skewer in his hand and he waved it around as he nodded to whatever it was that Jin was talking about.

Jin looked up, sending you a casual glance back before reaching for his glass of water. You looked down hurriedly, embarrassed at the lack of attention you were paying to your partners on a date.

You swallowed your bite of rice, fully ready to pull up your socks and delve into the conversation again when you felt the hand at your knee squeeze.

You looked down to see it was Jins’, a pale braided gold ring on his thumb and his heavy watch peeking out of his shirt sleeve. You looked back up at the man in question curiously, wondering if he wanted to tell you something.

On his part, Seokjin looked completely unbothered, spooning some curry in his mouth before giving you another glance.

“What?” You mouthed at him. He stared for a few minutes.

“It seems,” He said, “that our Y/N is a little distracted today.”

His eyes were still blank, a slight hitch to his eyebrows the only change in his expression. “Are we not keeping your attention tonight, Princess?”

“No - I was, I’m just tired - I didn’t mean,” You stuttered a little when the hand rose up your leg, curving warmly over the top of your thigh.

“You’re tired?”

You managed a stiff nod. Jin hummed thoughtfully, glancing over you until his eyes landed to where his hand lay over your lap. “We should freshen you up.”

You had barely opened your mouth to say there was no need when your legs were pushed open. Jin smiled almost kindly at you as he placed two fingers where the skirt had ridden up your thighs.

Your cheeks burned. The fabric of the skirt stretched tightly over your skin, digging in till it was almost uncomfortable. And yet, those two fingers placed calculatingly on your skin only made you think about how it would feel to have him shove them inside you. You squirmed, glancing over at Taehyung helplessly.

Of course, it was silly to ask him for any assistance. Taehyung had a wicked look on his face, eyes deep and lips pulled against his teeth. He had already angled his body to hide you from the rest of the restaurant while Jin’s broad frame hid you from the window.

Sandwiched between the two powerful men, you felt as safe as you could from the world and yet, trapped between them you felt exposed to their own eyes - like a live wire. It was electrifying and terrifying.

You placed a hand on their chests when they drew closer, your head falling back to take in deep breaths as Jin inched the skirt up till it circled the top of your thighs, not cutting into your skin anymore but still not as freeing as you would like.

Taehyung lowered his head to your neck, slightly chapped lips travelling over the dewing skin, inhaling deeply.

You whimpered.

“What do you need, Princess?” He murmured against your jawline.

“Someone could see.” You managed to whisper.

“Is that what you want?” Jin put in, eyes meeting yours when they flew open wide in horror.

Before you could emphasize that NO - it definitely wasn’t what you wanted, Jin had already tugged the rest of the skirt up, fingers now tucking into the gusset of your work underwear. They weren’t anything special, just a practical set of cotton but the way the men eyed the fabric made it feel anything but simple.

Taehyung joined in then, his own dexterous and long fingers pushing the crotch to the side, hissing through his teeth. “Were you wet already?”

It was humiliating, Taehyung’s eyes boring knowingly into yours, Jin’s taking on amusement at the antics of his lovers. “Had your fun already then?” he asked Taehyung.

“Barely,” He whispered, going back to your neck. “But you carry on, I want to watch this.”

Ah yes, Taehyung’s voyeuristic tendencies; you remembered back to the first time you’d made love with them - the way his eyes had watched every move you and Jin had made - from undressing you to Jin fucking you the next morning.

If anything, it had gotten worse.

He moved back enough till he was covering you again, head on his palm with a smile on his face. A perfectly polite expression - as if he was watching his favorite rom-com.

Jin obliged, obviously. His middle finger traced over your mound, dipping into your slit to seek your clit. “Lean back a bit, baby.” He whispered, and you obeyed so he could have better access.

Your eyes peeked over Taehyung’s shoulder, through the slats of the wooden screens. The rest of the people carried on eating, with waitresses and waiters carrying trays of food and drink to and fro - unaware of the depravity you were succumbing yourself to.

And then Jin’s fingers were moving inside you and all rational thought flooded out your brain. Your back arched when he plunged a digit in, your boyfriends cooing and shushing the sharp keening sound that would have escaped you if Taehyung’s thumb wasn’t patting against your lips warningly, his palm soothening over your jaw and neck.

“Quiet baby, we don’t wanna be kicked out and blacklisted, do we?” He whispered soothingly.

You nodded quickly, legs parting of their own accord as Jin kept up his even pace, the angle barely hitting your sweet spot. Maddeningly close and yet so far away…you grabbed his tie before an idea struck you.

They weren’t the only ones who got to play with you.

Seokjin and Taehyung both choked when your hand dropped to Jin’s crotch in determination. You pulled down the zipper of Jin’s slacks, hand sneaking into the opening for his member. It was easy to find, hard and almost calling to you. Your older boyfriend adjusted his seat accordingly - now wearing a shit-eating grin when you managed to pull it out of its confines.

“Fuck,” Taehyung cursed from next to you.

You moved your hand over Jin’s dick, timing it with his fingers moving inside of you.

The little booth you were sitting in was heating up, the evidence of your actions hidden behind a wooden screen that could be pulled aside any moment anyone wanted to check in on you. Despite your wishes to keep public displays of affection aside for now, you couldn’t deny that this was turning you on more with each passing scandalous moment, making all sorts of sensations running through you.

One of them was the tightening ball in the pit of your stomach, aided by Jin’s fingers and then Taehyung’s, unable to keep from rubbing into your clit. Your own hand had speeded up on Jin’s cock way earlier, his plush lips falling open as he neared his climax. His pace was erratic now, most of the work done by Taehyung as he increased the pressure on your bundle of nerves.

It took Jin ten seconds more to finally hit his peak. Eyes fluttered and hair plastered to the front of his forehead, he balled his fist against his mouth to hide the deep grunt he let out. Your hand tightened on his cockhead just as he came. Cum dribbled over your hand, coating your fingers and palm in his thick and sticky release.

Jin breathed deeply for a couple seconds, unclenching his fist to run his hand through his damp hair. Removing his glasses, he groaned.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He said, pulling his hand away from your body. Taehyung handed both of you tissues to clean up.

Taehyung helped you clean up your hand and push the skirt back down, before you looked at Seokjin, pouting as he rubbed at your drying slick on his hand.

“You don’t need to be sorry, I had fun.” You insisted, refraining from touching his face until you'd actually washed your hands.

“I wanted you to come.”

At that moment he looked so adorable - plump lips sticking out and glasses slipping down his nose, you couldn’t help leaning over to peck him quickly on the lips, stunning him.

“I don’t need to always come to feel good.” You whispered against his cheek, placing another quick kiss there before looking at both of your men.

“Shall we go home?”

It had been a month since you, Taehyung and Jin had consummated your feelings and started a relationship. The first morning, both men had adamantly told you that the point of purchasing the penthouse was to be closer to you and then make it easy for you when you moved in.

The first morning, with your mind thoroughly scrambled, body sore and legs wobbling; you hadn’t exactly paid much attention to their words. They were your boyfriends sure, but you were so used to your little perfect apartment.

You were used to the drive from home to work, to drinks, to parties.

You were sure it would be a good amount of time before they could bring themselves to being used to your presence with theirs. You had to give that to them - after all, they’d been a couple long before feelings got in the way.

You should’ve known that determination went both ways with the two men.

It had been Taehyung who started it; a slow process of surely ingraining you into their lives and home.

It had begun with ‘accidentally’ taking you to the penthouse in a ‘sleepy haze.’ Or it would be Jin who called you over for dinner. And conversation, and…other things would make it too late for you to go home.

Soon, it got to the point that you found yourself comfortable enough to leave your belongings at the penthouse - on the kitchen island, on the bathroom counter, in the closet or dresser…

Three weeks in; you agreed and happily moved it.

You kept the apartment of course, still not able to stomach the idea of giving it up.

And that was one area Jin and Taehyung respectfully kept their opinions to themselves. After all, they wanted you there with them and they had you there now. The rest - they left up to you.

Your DVDs were stashed in with Jin’s collection, your books and work supplies arranged in the office Taehyung had painstakingly decorated for you. You had your own drawers, your own partitions of the wardrobe and an entire cabinet of the dressing sink had your skincare in it.

You had your assigned side of the bed.

For all intents and purposes, the penthouse was now your home. A home you had dreamt of forever - and Taehyung and Jin had generously made it happen, alongside giving you the men you loved the most.

A month since…and you jealously guarded your secret.

Except of course, from the people who had helped make it happen.

So naturally, Irene was the first to know, right after you finished the Chou project.

Irene closed the file of the Chou family, signing off the last documents and slipping it into her cabinet. Clicking her pen closed, she slammed the door shut with a spinning flourish.

“And that’s done, I hope the lovely pair and their progeny are happy.”

You raised the small glass of wine that you’d secretly poured out. Your boss wasn’t around and you’d just closed on a good job done. You’d earned the grape juice.

Irene took her seat behind the desk, picking her own glass up. “God, it’s been a week.”

You hummed.

“I’m going to go home, unplug everything and just take a good long bath - I feel dirt has settled right into my soul.”

“You were right.”

Irene glanced at you. “About what? About the fertilizer…? Because that was just common sense -”

“About Taehyung and Seokjin.” You cut her off.

Irene closed her mouth for a moment, giving you those wide eyes that meant she was actually taken aback. Then her eyes narrowed, lips pulling into a smug smirk as she sipped slowly at her glass again. “Mmhmm…and what happened after you realized I was right?”

You clicked your nails on your glass, not meeting her eyes. Images dredged up into your memory - hot, messy and wonderful.

“Damn, Y/N - you slept with them didn’t you?” Irene was sitting up ramrod straight now, her voice a full bar louder.

“God, not so loud - shut up!” You screeched, getting up quickly to shut the door to her office.

Your friend continued to eye you with glee, almost bouncing in her chair. “You have got to give me all the details! I mean, I know it’s not college, but please Y/N!”

You collapsed back in the chair, sighing. “I’m not going to tell you everything .” You warned, pointing a finger at her.

And then, of course, you told her everything.

As the wine bottle edged closer to being emptied, Irene ended up on her couch, with you on the floor.

“That…sounds so fucking sexy.” She whined.

“It totally was…” You agreed, thinking back to the morning again.

As Taehyung had announced, the day was spent making love, making out, cuddling, eating, watching comedies and then finally, having the ‘talk’.

You were tossed an old shirt of Taehyung’s, velvety and soft from the wardrobe and you yanked it over your head - followed by some shorts that had long since shrunk on Jin.

With the sun rising and sending beams through the floor to ceiling windows, you three sat on three different ends of the sofas, suddenly awkward and quiet.

“Well, I guess we should come out and say it first - make it official.” Seokjin said, turning to face you seriously. “Y/N, we made it clear what we want from you. Now, it’s your turn.”

You blinked at the straightforwardness of his words, glancing at Taehyung nervously. “What are you willing to give?”

“A relationship. You, me and Jin - a throuple…isn’t that what it’s called by the kids nowadays?” Taehyung very nearly rolled his eyes at your glare.

“Ok, fine - so we’re all dating now. Jin said that there’s no strings to pull, so what are we talking about, anyway?” You snapped at your best friend.

“Because we know you. You’re not exactly going to change overnight. You have weird ideas that are going to make you think we’re treating you like a toy and run off…like you were going to before.”

“Taehyung, it’s not exactly healthy to put it like that. We’ve all been idiots.” Jin cut in before you could retaliate. He turned his head resolutely to you.

“We must be clear about the time and space we share, and how we can make adjustments for your thoughts. You can’t deny you’ll have them nor can we assume that we ourselves will be safe from doubts of our own. We might not have a problem in the bedroom, but there’s more to the kind of relationship we want for us all. And for that to work, we need to talk about anything and everything we might need to contend with. Be it finances, jealousy…anything. We also need to talk about how we’re going to publicise our relationship. I, for one, don’t have any problems with people finding out - and I doubt Taehyung is going to have much trouble either. His family knows you already and mine are going to be happy that I’m happy.”

You flinched at that.

Publicising the relationship…now that was one arena you had given approximately zero thought to.

You thought about it for a minute - about being able to tell people that you had more than one boyfriend…no, that your boyfriends were your best friend and his long term boyfriend.

You thought of Wendy - already having called you out on your detachment from Taehyung and being worried that it might affect your work.

You thought of the multiple people who had thought that Taehyung was yours before realizing that he was dating Kim Seokjin.

You thought of Joy.

What would these people say?

“...I don’t think we need to worry about finances…as for time and space, nothing can change because you and Taehyung work together. And Tae will come home to me…depends on if you want to come live here too…”

“...I mean we got the penthouse with you in mind…”

Your eyes drifted out the window, to the sun that was glaring at you like the spotlight that you knew would come with this.

You hadn’t just walked into a relationship with two people who nobody knew or cared about. You had just marched into a relationship of two people who for all intents and purposes were happy and in love with each other. They were complete together.

They wouldn’t care that they wanted you.

They would only think of you and your reasons.

You’d be the one judged.

Your reputation will be the one under a microscope.

Homewrecker…

Vixen…

Adulterer…

Worst names floated around in your psyche, tuning out anything that Jin and Taehyung discussed in that soft, soothing tone you usually loved.

“...we can even discuss therapy…just for a bit, if you want…”

And therein lay the problem, didn’t it? You would be the one who would need therapy, because it was your insecurity, your issues with loving Taehyung from afar for so long that you had forgotten how to work your way around a relationship…

And wouldn’t therapy be a form of public announcement too?

“I don’t think we need therapy.” You said finally, meeting Jin’s slightly narrowed eyes. “I mean, it's still fresh, right? Do we really need to think that we need to fix something that we’ve barely begun? Let’s see how it goes, right?”

Jin and Taehyung shared a glance, looking at you closely. “Are you sure? We have no problem.”

“I know, I know you don’t but I think the rest of it is workable. I mean Tae and I will be working together anyway, and he’ll come home to you. Nothing is going to change. And I know you said you want me to move in, but let’s take that slow. Is that okay?”

“Whatever makes you comfortable, Y/N, you know that.” Taehyung grasped your hand, giving it a sincere squeeze.

You nodded, looking down to where his fingers entwined with yours.

“Also…is it okay, if we wait to tell everyone?”

Taehyung hesitated at that, looking at Jin but the older man only leaned onto his elbows, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

“Why?”

You paused at that.

You could tell them. You could tell them all the reasons that had played in your mind not too many moments ago. After all, this involved them too.

And this talk was the place to let out these inhibitions, wasn’t it? That’s what they wanted.

But they were right. You couldn’t change overnight. And as much as you wanted to, you couldn't trust that they would understand. They would try to ease your mind with kisses, with distracting touches, with sweet words that wrapped you in a safe cocoon and left you too stupid to deal with the reality of the world.

And if you crashed?

It would be you who would have to pick up the pieces.

They’d help, but they couldn’t understand.

So you put on your sultry smile, tugging on Taehyung’s hand and he came immediately to sit closer to you. “I want to keep you two to myself for as long as I can.”

You didn’t check Jin’s expression - you knew he’d catch the studying look, the CEO who could understand people with a single glance would surely see through yours.

Taehyung looked unsure for a minute, looking at your mouth as if hesitating to kiss you but you managed to break through by beckoning Jin to come over as well.

You could talk again later, you thought, closing your eyes when the two men huddled you into their arms.

There’d be plenty of time to talk…once you’d sorted through your own worries.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

Irene and you peered up to see the door open, Taehyung standing there with his arms crossed. There was an amused smile playing on his lips even as his eyes remained bemused.

“Ah…there’s the man who broke through the closet for his lady love!” Irene cooed from the couch, sitting up. “How are you Taetae?”

“Sober.” Taehyung snorted, coming in and shutting the door before walking determinedly to where you were propped against the chair on the floor. “I can’t believe you two got drunk at work. It’s not even break-time.” He slipped an arm under your shoulders, pulling you up to sit on the chair.

“Hey, we are celebrating a job well done, okay? That and the fact that Y/N finally got laid. And magnificently so,”

Taehyung quietly snorted again, opening the blinds you’d dimmed and grabbed a bottle of water. “Thank you for your opinion on our sex life, Irene. Now can you two please get a grip?” He handed her one and me another from the mini-fridge under Irene’s desk.

We obediently sipped at our water before she chortled again.

“Joy is going to bust a nerve.”

You didn’t have to look at Taehyung to know that he had lost his smile.

You drove that night.

As you’d suspected, Taehyung had long since dropped his smile since Irene’s office. His brows were pulled in, thin lips pursed and his nostrils flared occasionally.

He was also silent, which meant that the atmosphere of the car had gone from boisterous to tense. He didn’t once look over at you, keeping his gaze out of the car.

That, at least gave you some peace of mind.

Taehyung only ever avoided the gaze of people if he was upset and didn’t want you to know. If he was angry, he would rather get in your face and look you in the eye as he listed your faults.

So, you decided to stay quiet yourself, knowing he would spit it out sooner or later. After all, you still were his best friend.

It was when you flipped the dial on the radio, a pop song from the latest charts filling the car that Taehyung turned to look at you.

You let out an internal breath, bracing yourself for whatever it was that he wanted to get off of his chest. It could be about the office drinking - but he had never had a problem with it before. It could be about you telling Irene - but didn’t they say they were ok with telling people? Irene was one of your closest friends, the one who had seen that Seokjin and Taehyung liked you. She deserved to know, in your opinion.

And then your hands clenched on the wheel.

It had to be about…

“So, you haven’t told Joy yet?”

Bin-fucking-go.

You shuffled in the driver’s seat, glancing at him in a hopefully casual manner. “No?”

“Why not?”

It brought you back to that night - when Taehyung had asked you about why you would go to Joy to get set up. It flared the same type of annoyance in you.

“What do you mean, why not? I’m going to tell Joy when I have the time and inclination. I have had occasion for neither.”

Taehyung was silent for a split second. “Right.”

You nearly banged your head on the steering wheel. “Look Tae, I know how you feel about Joy, ok?”

“This reminds me of our conversation that night.” He muttered.

You stuttered to a stop, both of you remembering that night felt suffocating rather than bringing on the fondness it should’ve had.

You opened your mouth again, ready to ask if this was a conversation he was willing to have with you right then but Taehyung turned away again, this time his whole torso facing the window.

You closed your mouth.

Well...looked like he wasn't.

One of the perks of the penthouse, as Jin and Tae had told you repeatedly, was the shorter distance from work to home. Their previous apartment and yours had been in the outer circles of the city. The penthouse now; put all of you much closer to the bustling hub of the city heart.

This reduction of distance was a perk on the good days. Now, you cursed the short time it took for you to get home and lower the car into the parking.

Before you could even cut the engine, Tae was out the door, slamming it shut and walking off to the elevators.

Why was he acting like this?

Feeling cowed and uneasy, you grabbed your bag from the backseat slowly, taking care to lock the car and check the doors before you realized that Taehyung had not, in fact, left you alone in the basement. He stood by the elevators, hand holding the door to the private one open - waiting for you.

Your feet quickened at that, hurrying to enter the lift and then the grilled doors were closing on you, carrying you up to your home.

Taehyung and you stood on opposite sides of the box, staring either at the reflections on the walls or the blinking pink numbers at the top panel.

The ding that announced your arrival was met with silence, leaving you to the sinking realization that Jin wasn't home yet.

Fuck, that left you alone with one of your sulky boyfriends and you had no clue how to deal with that.

You placed your bags in your office, coming back out to see Taehyung in the kitchen, looking through the fridge. Lingering in the hallway, you fiddled with the buttons of your shirt, wondering how to approach the dark head in your sight.

Is this how this was going to be? Taehyung used to tell you everything. You were used to Taehyung coming to you to unload when anything bothered him. Was this relationship going to change the most important thing in your friendship with him? Has it already shifted gears into being one of the worst mistakes you could’ve made?

But he was still your best friend. And if you couldn’t approach your best friend, he might never approach his best friend in turn.

“Tae,”

Your voice only garnered a nod, his hands now digging into the tupperware of leftovers you’d carefully packed away for them.

You entered the kitchen fully, leaning against the island as you watched him fetch a fork and start scooping up some cold pasta. “At least heat that up first.”

“I’m too hungry to wait.”

“Taehyung,” You sighed again. “Talk to me.”

He looked at you then, eyes blinking in innocence that you didn’t trust. “Talk to you about what?”

“Joy,”

Taehyung put another forkful of pasta into his mouth, chewing loudly and slowly. “Okay, talk about Joy then.”

“Not me - you - God, Taehyung!” You ran a hand through your work ragged hair. “Can we talk about why Irene mentioning Joy made you ignore me?”

“I’m clearly not ignoring you, Y/N.”

You gave him an unimpressed stare. It was enough to make him sigh like you, closing the tupperware container and shove it back into the fridge, fork and all. “I’m really not ignoring you, ok? I just don’t understand -” He broke off.

You waited, watching his throat work, eyebrows furrow and smoothen as he sorted through his thoughts.

“You know I have a problem with Joy. It's nothing new and not getting old anytime soon.”

“Ok…and I’ve hung out with Joy before. I know mentioning her makes you snarky but this is new. This…the whole…” You waved a hand at him. “You being so obviously upset about her being in my life.”

Taehyung crossed his arms, getting into a defensive stance when the elevator dinged again. Both of you blinked, jarred out of the looming fight and looking around to see Jin walk around the corner of the foyer. His briefcase hung from his shoulder, the elevator key spinning on his index. Stretching his neck, he froze as he spotted Taehyung and you in the kitchen with tension palpable in the air.

“Uh…” He quickly flicked his eyes between the two of you. “Something wrong?”

You straightened away from the island, caught suddenly between the two men. As much as you’d hoped that Jin would be home to act as a mediator, you couldn’t help but wonder if that would be appropriate.

Jin had never met Joy. He didn’t know her from Eve. All he knew about her was from Taehyung because you tried to not bring her up - just in case something like exactly your current situation arose.

Was Jin being here truly helpful in your situation?

“Nothing.” You lied, glancing back at Taehyung whose eyes were now sharp on you. “Just work stuff.”

“Wait, so you don’t want to talk about it anymore?” Taehyung took a step forward, towards you, eyebrows rising.

You shrugged his question off, backing a bit as Jin undid the latch of the bag from his neck. “I don’t see the point of getting even more upset about this.”

“Wait, who’s upset? What’s going on?”

No one responded for a few moments before Taehyung turned to his boyfriend. “We were just discussing Joy. About my…issues with her. Now Y/N doesn’t want to talk about it.”

Jin’s expression was still confused as he looked between you and Tae.

“Like I said, no need to worry about this anymore.” It was a last ditch attempt to get the topic over with. Now that Jin was home, there would be a talk, you were sure of that.

“Well, it obviously is if it’s upsetting both of you.” Jin pulled a chair from the dining table to sit on it.

“ I’m not upset. He is.” You pointed a finger towards where Taehyung stood, on the other side of the island. It already felt like a match.

“And with good reason, if you haven’t told Joy already then I want to know when and how you’re going to do it.”

“Why?” Jin cut in.

“BECAUSE - you know how Joy is -”

“There it is again, yes, we all know how Joy supposedly is. And yes, you’ve always been going at it with her about that but I promise you, I am not going to subject you to her and her to you.”

“That’s not what this is about.”

“What is it about then? What happened suddenly that has made you this worried about Joy? You barely used to give a damn about her unless it was to roll your eyes and take a jab before.”

“You weren’t my girlfriend before.” Taehyung slammed a palm flat on the island, stopping you mid-speech and making Jin emit a sharp noise of disapproval when you jumped. “You’re my girlfriend now. You’re Jin’s girlfriend now. Have you forgotten what you did simply because she told you to? You distanced yourself from us!”

“Well, it got us together, in all fairness.” Jin stood up, voice calm.

“Exactly; and so Y/N tells Joy about us. What if Joy makes you think this was a bad idea? She hates me, you know. And you, you will go along with her. It’s not like you didn’t already. I know we said we’ll give it time - I know your insecurities. Joy will play you like a fiddle.”

Taehyung took a deep breath.

“And I’ll be damned if I let her take you away from us again.”

A thicker silence fell this time around. Jin crossed his arms, looking at his feet with his tongue pushing against his cheek. Taehyung glared at you and despite the blatant sadness in his eyes, you couldn’t help the fear and anger that rose up in you.

He knew, of course he knew about the doubts that flared up under your skin sometimes. He probably felt them when he brushed a hand across your body, just bubbling under the surface. And he really thought that you would leave them because Joy said so.

“So you know about my insecurities. You’re my best friend, Taehyung, you know me better than anyone else. Or so I thought. Joy is my friend - she wants what she thinks is the best for me. Have her plans always worked out? Obviously not, but it was never out of malice. And you really think that I’m weak and stupid enough to break up with you, just because she talked me into it, don’t you? That’s really how low you think of me.”

Despite the emotions that had pushed the words out of you, none of it was injected into them. They fell flat, emotionless and thankfully without the tremor you could feel on your lips. It wasn’t even a question. You saw it clearly on his face.

A shuddering breath later, you turned and walked past Jin, who looked frozen in his place. You thought about fetching your bag, taking off for a bit - but you couldn’t bring yourself to drive right now. You just wanted to be alone, someplace silent.

You would have to settle for it being in the Penthouse.

Taking the stairs, you entered the spare bedroom. This would have to be enough for tonight. You lay down on the guest bed, staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours, deliberately numbing and pushing away any thoughts that floated to you. However, as much as you would have liked to stay there till the morning, you couldn’t stay here in your work clothes for the whole night.

So shucking off your day’s clothes, you fetched your rattiest pajamas, cradling them close as you snuck into the bathroom. Thankfully, they hadn’t followed you up yet.

Dropping the shirt and slacks into the hamper, you twisted the shower dials till they would burn on your skin, and hopefully turn your mind to a useless glob.

You stood under the hellish spray, arms bundling your chest and heart to yourself. Your head lay on the tiles, deep breaths in and deep breaths out.

They were discussing you down there…

Yeah no shit…

They didn’t trust you either…

And you didn’t want to address that right now…

You had wrecked your most precious friendships for this…

Was it too late to turn back now?

The steam shifted around you, rising and falling like the breath of some monstrous being not unlike this cavernous ball of guilt, doubt and frustration that pulsed inside you.

The first cold touch on your shoulder made you flinch, the fingers pulling away momentarily before latching on again determinedly.

You were pulled back into a chest, arms wrapping around where your own held on to yourself.

You exhaled slowly, a head laying on your shoulder. It was quiet then, the heavy shower pattering against the tiles thudding in your ears like your nervous pulse.

Finally -

“I’m sorry.”

You didn’t reply. You didn’t move.

“I know what I said was shitty and I know I didn’t help matters. I shouldn’t have brought insecurities and doubts into it at all, I got it way before Jin just kicked my ass for it, I promise. I don’t want you to think that this is a precedent. It’s not. Joy just -” He stopped, arms tightening around you.

“Ok, forget Joy, you told me she has no place in this relationship and I trust you about that. I trust you, Y/N. I know you’re in your pretty little head about the fight but please, forgive me?”

You still didn’t say anything, but you didn’t need to. Your arms dropped, letting Taehyung wrap himself around you better before he was spinning you around. Taehyung clasped your face to peer closely at you, studying the way you silently gazed back up at him.

“Ok?”

You simply nodded, his body relaxing visibly at the way the fight left you. “I’m still not happy about what you said, just so you know.”

It was his turn to nod, thumb caressing over your cheeks. “I know, neither am I and Jin. He went to his office after telling me I was an idiot and to fix it but I thought I’d better give you some time to yourself. That was before I realized you might need me here with you. If you want, I’ll even take the guest bed tonight.”

“No!”

Your refusal was vehement; loud enough to echo in the tile and glassed space, your hands quickly clasping his wrists. “I don’t want you to sleep elsewhere, I want you to hold me.”

“I can do more than that.” Taehyung kissed you softly, lips brushing over your nose and forehead before he was leaning your head against his chest, “Shampoo and soap?”

You hummed in agreement, feeling him reach behind you for the bottles.

Taehyung massaged the blueberry shampoo into your scalp in delicate circles, focusing on the top of your skull and the backs of your ears.

“I’ve been thinking…” He said, rinsing the shampoo off and picking up the matching soap. You waited while he sudsed up his hands, beginning to rub into your shoulders.

“What?” You prompted.

“You should take us to the club.”

The sentence, coupled with his pensive tone was so out of the blue that you wiggled out of his hold, turning to give him an incredulous look. “ What ?”

He shrugged innocently, hands still lathered in purple bubbles. “I mean, I just thought you’d want to show off your boyfriends. Your, really, really hot boyfriends - if I do say so myself.”

“You do say so yourself.” You teased, giggles pooling out of you at the completely blank face he said it with. Grabbing the soap you ran it down his own bare chest. “Might as well actually shower now that we’re here.”

“Just let me finish your back first.” You were about to turn when he grabbed your arm. “But before that,”

He gave you a big, smacking kiss, smiling with all his teeth when you laughed against his mouth.

The dress was an apology present from Taehyung. The mild, shimmering fabric breathed easily and swung around your knees as a perfectly modest skirt. But from the waist up…

Well.

The bodice consisted of satin and lace netting, ruching at the sleeves while flowery lace covered the rest of you. It was almost deceptively simple, when you’d picked it out of the box, but aside from the built in satin covering your breasts, you were showing a lot of skin.

And you could only wonder about what Taehyung had planned for you and the dress once you got home - all part of his making up to you, of course.

Beside you, Irene had shot you a knowing grin, decked in silver and blue as she and you found Joy at the bar already.

A dazzling vision of white, your friend had squealed at the dress, marvelling at the sudden boldness of you.

“You should do this more often, you totally pull this off.”

You swatted at her shoulder, drinks lining the counter soon.

It felt nice, getting back with the girls after such a long time. You hadn’t seen Joy since the first night you had spent with Jin and Taehyung. You had also brushed off her texts regarding Kim Namjoon with a spineless excuse of being too busy.

It felt awful doing that to one of your closest friends - someone you knew wanted only your happiness, regardless of what Taehyung believed.

If he had been so concerned with Joy taking you from him, he could’ve opened his mouth and talked to you way back then in college. But the past was the past and you were theirs now. It was meaningless to be upset at either of them.

“You really do look gorgeous, Y/N. Like, really glowing…have you found a man without telling us?”

You choked on your drink, glaring at Irene who gave you an impish smirk. Damn; these girls were going to be the death of you. First Joy, now Irene…

“It’s just the foundation - it’s new.” You threw back, tossing another shot down your throat. The burn helped bring some clarity to you, despite the alcohol slowing your senses already.

“You’ve got to give me the brand name of the foundation.” Joy rubbed a finger along your jaw and then checked her finger. “It’s like it’s not even there.”

You and Irene watched her take her shot. Joy shook her head quickly before levelling a look at you.

“So, I know you said you were busy but I talked to Namjoon just a couple days ago and he’s still not gotten your call or text back. And I saw him waiting for a date, so…I don’t even know anymore. It’s been a month, Y/N. Why didn’t you call him? He was a great man. You’ve also bailed on girl nights.”

“Oh…just, projects and paperwork have been piling up and I also just started a new project.” It felt horrible, lying to her face like this while she only peered at you in concern.

“I hope you’re taking breaks, babe. All this stress is only going to make you feel shittier at the end of the week.”

You hummed, circling a finger around the rim of your glass and staunchly ignoring Irene gesturing behind Joy’s shoulder.

Of course, not all of it was a lie. You actually had started another project. Min Yoongi was back and he wanted you and Taehyung on his file to decorate his studio. But it wasn’t nearly as strenuous as the Chou project had been. Nothing to warrant a drink over, definitely.

Irene gestured again and you sighed.

“Joy.”

Your friend murmured an acknowledgement, picking up an olive from the bowl and popping it into her mouth.

“I have something to say…uh, to confess actually.”

Joy straightened at that, sleepy eyes widening to give you a look full of her attention. She studied you before looking carefully at Irene.

“Are you guys dating? Because I have a really amazing gaydar and I would’ve seen that coming.”

Yeah…turned out her gaydar wasn’t as accurate as she claimed but still…

“No, Joy, I am dating - but not Irene. Although she’d be a catch.” You looked quickly at her. “I mean -”

“Y/N,” Irene shook your shoulder. “Focus.”

Oh…right…

You turned back to Joy. “I am dating Taehyung actually. And Seokjin…I am dating both Taehyung and Seokjin.”

Joy gaped at you for so long you and Irene both had to call her name at least three times before she blinked.

“You - you’re dating both of the Kim men?” She whispered harshly. Your heart dropped a few inches.

You nodded mutely.

“That son of a bitch; I knew it. I knew he’d get you back into his spell.”

There went your heart further down.

“Joy…it’s not like that. It’s crazy the kind of anger you two have against each other.” Irene cut in, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Oh he has anger towards me, does he? I wasn’t the one obviously and shamelessly leading their so-called best friend on for years and years.”

“Joy,” You said softly. The pleasant haze of the alcohol had long since faded and you doubted you’d be drinking again. “It’s really not like that. It was just miscommunication. Since College…it’s just been one giant communication problem.”

Joy opened her mouth angrily, making you brace yourself internally. But she sighed, fluttering her eyes quickly and plucking her shot glass up, taking it down. Slamming it onto the table she pointed at me.

“Are you happy?”

You thought back to the morning. You’d fallen asleep on the couch in the living room, the novel you were reading loosely clasped in your fingers. You’d woken up in the center of your huge bed, Taehyung and Jin to either side of you. Taehyung faced you, close enough for you to feel his sleepy body heat radiate under the covers. Jin was on his back, one arm behind his head and the other slipping under your pillow. You’d smiled, running a hand over that arm to snuggle closer to your older boyfriend. The motion made Taehyung follow after, burrowing into the duvet and his arm reaching for you, wrapping around your waist. Jin shuffled, hand finding the one you’d placed on his chest before stilling again as you all went back to sleep.

“Yes,” You said, sincerely. “I am very happy. They make me happy.”

“Then that’s good enough for me. And if they ever hurt you or keep you from seeing me, I will kick their asses in that fancy penthouse you designed for them.” She vowed before giving you her trademark gleaming smile. “We should all totally do a group date.” She finally gushed.

You burst out laughing, Irene following as the tension dissipated.

You entered the penthouse sometime after eleven. Irene being the designated driver usually meant coming home at a very reasonable hour. She’d piled Joy and you in her cute little car and drove you both home. With many blown kisses and promises to meet and ‘date’ again, you’d finally managed to plug in your little key into the private elevator and ridden up to home.

The first thing you did after exiting the elevator was dig your heels into the floor, wiggling your toes and ankles to get the heel off. Kicking them to the opposite wall, you swung your handbag around, humming a tune you’d picked up at the club and flexing your feet as you entered the kitchen for water and snacks. No way were you in the mood to nurse a hangover tomorrow.

Seokjin was already at the dinner table, a movie playing on his propped up phone while he watched calmly, his hands clasped on his stomach.

“Is the TV broken?” You draped yourself over his right shoulder, smiling when you smelled your blueberry shampoo in his hair instead of the clean citrus he preferred.

He raised a hand instinctively, delving into your hair.

“Nope,” He turned to the side to pull you onto his lap. “How was the club?”

You pressed your face back to his neck, sniffing along the sweet scent. “It was okay, fun. Got drunk,”

Jin laughed softly in your ear. “I can see that. And how was Joy?”

“She played nice. She’s happy for me. Even asked if we could all go group dating,” You pulled away to press a kiss to his hairline.

You didn’t know if it was your words or your actions but Jin’s eyebrows hiked up, looking at you intensely.

“You’re…much more affectionate when tipsy.” He noted, voice deepening when you ran a hand through the back of his hair, scratching at the base of his neck.

“I am, aren’t I?” You mocked his pensive voice before looking around. “Tae?”

“Out with some of your colleagues, he’ll be back in an hour or so; which means,” He wrapped his arms tighter around you. “I'll get you to myself for a while.”

You cheekily pecked his lips, taking advantage of his distraction to swing one leg over his lap, straddling him.

“Fuck, definitely a lot more affectionate. Why don’t you act more like this with me?”

“Because sober me is still shy of you,” You said, completely matter of factly. You ignored the split second of hesitation and sadness that fluttered over his expression to press your lips at his pulse point. The stiffness of his shoulders subsided the more you nestled there, grinding subtly onto where he’d spread his legs to make your seat comfortable. “You should be taking advantage of this.”

Jin grabbed at the back of your neck, pulling back enough to give you a quick overlook. “You know what, you’re right. And what better way to do that than to make up for last time,”

“What happened last time - Whoa!” You grasped his shoulders when he stood up smoothly, your legs tightening around his waist to keep from tipping over.

Jin carried you - not to the couch as you expected - but to the damn kitchen island, hefting you up enough to sit you on the granite. He cupped your face, bringing you down to kiss you properly, tongue tracing over your bottom lip, parting the petals to plunder inside. Breaking away, he ran his large palms over the front of the dress, whistling through his teeth when he noticed the satin shift under his touch, revealing more of your breasts to him.

“Taehyung definitely went all out. Did you like your present Princess?”

You whimpered your agreement, Jin lowering his hands to squeeze your legs, prying them apart and pushing you to lay back.

“Wait, wait!” You looked back at the island and then at him. “You can’t be serious, here?”

He smirked, bringing his face closer to you. “I can press you up against the window if you want. I don’t mind, we’d make a sight to behold.”

You squeaked, pushing at his shoulder when he broke into chuckles. “Here’s fine.”

Seokjin just smiled when you willingly kicked back, supporting yourself on your elbows to watch him slip his hands into the skirt, just rubbing into your skin.

Catching sight of the red lines on your feet, he rubbed circles onto them, easing circulation. “Does it hurt?” He asked, the aura of lust dissipating for his caring nature to shine through.

You shrugged, “Just heels you know.” You trailed off when Jin’s lips pressed to your ankles, tiny kisses peppered up to your knee where he bent your leg, sliding it over his shoulder. He continued to rub the other leg, the skirt falling back further with his hands until the breezy thing draped over your stomach. He made quick work of losing the scrap of satin that covered you. Dropping the fabric to the floor, Jin left your lower half bare for his eyes and…you hoped - for his mouth and fingers.

As much as you’d all had the opportunity to hit the bed with each other, there had never actually been an occasion where you’d been able to have Seokjin completely to yourself. Taehyung had it easy, what with his proximity to you at work and his zeal to ‘make up for lost time’ as he put it. Coming home, you’d be too tired for a good long session with your boyfriends, or Jin would be held back at the office, or Taehyung would fall asleep early because of his excursions to shop for the clients.

And even though you knew no one would mind, it felt awkward to seek Jin’s attention when Tae wasn’t involved. At least not actively…

Drunk you had no such inhibitions. You were free to love Kim Seokjin and would proudly want him to touch you.

The first stroke of Jin’s fingers through your folds made you choke on a gasp, his lips following to trap your flesh between his teeth. He placed tiny nips on you, teeth worrying the delicate skin of your inner thighs while he circled your entrance, rubbing your slick back into your folds.

When he brought his mouth back to your core, you had to drop back to lay completely on the island. The stone felt chilly against your skin, while Jin’s head burned down there. Your hands wandered, pressing into the satin ruching of the dress, the sensation of it making your nipples stand at attention. The lace caught onto your goosebumps as you gripped onto the skirt before finally having to clutch onto the silken strands of Jin’s hair.

Jin was generous with his tongue, with a level of dexterity that had you openly moaning his name, any thoughts of holding onto your composure tossed out the window. His fingers dipped into your finally, stroking one into you before pulling back to thrust two in.

“I’m going to make you come, sweetheart.” He crooned up at you. “Are you ready? Do you want it?”

You could only arch your back when he twisted his fingers into you, angling them to hit the spot inside you that had you flushing with overwhelming heat. Your mouth parted into silent pants.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Jin chuckled darkly, lowering his head to you again.

Your eyes fluttered, his pace increasing as he roughly pounded two long digits into you, taking care to batter into the place they’d memorized so well. He slurped at your juices, pulling at your clit with his lips. The kitchen echoed with those sounds, crude and scandalizing but it only made lust pool further into your belly, toes curling against the pleasure that wound up your body into a tight string, ready to snap any moment.

It was when Jin grazed your clit with his teeth, that the string snapped.

You came with your eyes open, the pressure that released in your gut sending dark spots flying into your vision. You might have screamed, might have moaned, might have done a number of things but it all ended with you crashing roughly down into your body, still on the kitchen island, with Jin now hovering over you.

He called your name from somewhere much farther than from where he was standing, his clean hand massaging into your knee, bringing you back.

“Holy fuck,” Was the first thing you uttered, watching Jin laugh, before raising his hand. He examined the threads of slick that bridged his fingers, scissoring his fingers before letting them rest on his tongue. The way he closed his eyes, groaning around your taste would’ve pulled another orgasm from you had you not already emptied that bucket.

So you could only sit there, watching with your jaw lax as he pulled his fingers from his mouth, leaning in to kiss you in the gentlest way possible.

You weren’t in the mood for gentleness, though. You wanted him to press you down, ram into you till you couldn’t walk.

Latching onto him, you took over the kiss, pressing into him as tight as you could.

“Fuck me,” You told him, bordering on a command and he took it as one, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Tae?”

“Taehyung can join in when he comes.” You nearly whined, kissing the column of his extraordinarily long neck. “Please,” You whispered and he broke.

Sliding his hands back under your legs, he pulled you to your feet, waiting for a second just to see if you were steady.

Grabbing your hand, he led you up the stairs to your bedroom.

Your short heeled boots clicked roughly on the polished marble flooring, skidding a bit when you clutched the binder to your chest and hurried to Wendy’s office.

You hadn’t expected Wendy to call you into her office. She rarely did that unless it was urgent or of course, her house that needed remodeling again.

So when her assistant had called your work phone to book your hour before lunch, you had quickly fished out Wendy’s file and flipped through it, making sure you had everything from design plans to receipts to present to her in case she asked.

When the clock struck the appointed hour, you got to your feet, marching your way to the Boss Lady. Your steps were decidedly professional, even if the twinge between your legs wasn’t.

You could only blame yourself, drunkenly climbing onto Jin. It had taken hours to calm down, your eyes seeing the red haze of lust when Taehyung had finally arrived home, v-neck sweater only sending you into an impassioned frenzy again.

Two days later, you were still feeling their presence.

You knocked on Wendy’s door, waiting for her muffled consent to push the door open. She sat at her desk as usual, looking utterly pristine in her pantsuit and in front of her…was a surprise.

“Mr. Min,” You exclaimed, unable to hide the shock. Why was he here? Nobody went to Wendy unless it was a hugely important client and Min Yoongi had given you the job for his studio.

“Ah, Y/N, excellent, come on in; we were just discussing how commendable your endeavor with Mr. Min’s spaces have been. Enough to warrant a little bonus at the end of the year, I’d say.” She laughed that pitchy laugh that was reserved for pushy customers and you smiled tightly, taking a seat next to Min.

“It really was my pleasure working with you.” You returned genially when Yoongi waved a hand.

“Kim Taehyung just finished setting up the pieces in the studio and I have to say that man has an eye that aesthetic scholars would’ve killed for during the enlightenment.” He joked. “There’s a rug he put down, seems genuinely Persian and very high end…nobody without expertise would be able to tell it’s not a genuine artifact.”

“Oh, I’m glad he found that. With the monochromatic scheme you wanted, I thought a touch of traditional art would pair up well.” You couldn’t help it, slipping a bit into one of the joys of your workplace - discussing exactly how a place was designed and what thought went behind it.

“I’ll admit I was doubtful at first, but when Taehyung put it down I had to agree. He was very proud when I said yes, kept telling me how his girlfriend had worked very hard and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Yoongi chuckled, not noticing the way you froze and Wendy’s smile flickered in confusion.

“Oh…I thought…hmm, perhaps I misheard.” Wendy said softly when Yoongi sombered again.

You didn’t look away from Yoongi, feeling a prickling on the side of your face. Wendy had her keen eye trained on you - suspicious and you internally cursed both Taehyung for blurting it out to Yoongi and Yoongi for blurting it out here so casually.

“Well, if you ever need more work done, Y/N is the best we have. I’d know,” She laughed again, picking up the file with her name on it and waving it.

It was a subtle dismissal but apparently it was enough for Yoongi to clap his hands and get to his feet, straightening the designer jacket he wore.

“It was wonderful having you design for me, Miss Y/N. Let’s hope we get to work again, I’ll keep you in my contacts.” He shook your hand, then Wendy’s and exited the office.

The moment the wooden door thudded closed, Wendy turned to you, face eerily calm.

“I thought Kim Taehyung had a boyfriend - Kim Seokjin. Had I misheard?” She asked.

You stared at her, weighing your options. For one, it wasn’t any of Wendy’s business, and you could try to pass off Yoongi as having taken Taehyung’s words the wrong way.

After all, people already assumed that you and Taehyung were together. It would be easy to spin that he had let that assumption lead him on.

You could lie about it, easily.

But then…what if Taehyung talked about it with other clients? You’d have to tell him to cut it out as soon as you got out of here.

He’d agree to your wish, of course, but he’d be unsure…hurt…and that was the last thing you wanted.

And what about Jin? Didn’t he get a say on how you and Taehyung were received as a couple in your workplace? Somewhere you’d be for years…?

You sighed.

This was exactly why you had wanted to keep the relationship secret, to avoid being put on the spot. It would’ve been easy to brush a colleague off, but Wendy was your boss - and she had been very supportive through your work here.

You didn’t want to even think about losing her admiration.

“Taehyung does have a boyfriend, and a girlfriend…we are all dating.”

After all, what was the worst that could happen? You trusted Wendy to not judge you - and this wasn’t something anyone had any right to judge anyone about. It was a relationship that had nothing to do with other people.

“So, it’s a polyamorous relationship.” Wendy said, point blank - not looking or sounding angry.

You nodded.

“I take it this is recent. The way you and Taehyung were cold towards each other, tells me this has something to do with that.”

Your eyes sharpened.

“With all due respect, Wendy -”

She raised a hand to stop you. “It’s not my business, I agree. Your relationship has nothing to do with me or any of the employees here. But just hear me out, okay? I have been a very lenient boss - tried to at least, for the most part. There haven't been any anti-fraternizing rules in my workplace because we’re human, with our emotions and our quirks.” She smirked. “Mine is getting my house remodelled anytime I want to.”

You didn’t smile.

“I am not disappointed with you or angry. I am not very happy, of course, I won’t lie but it’s not because I disapprove. I suppose we all should’ve seen this coming. However .” She clicked a long nail on her desk to mark a point.

“There is a very good reason why workplace relationships are frowned upon, even banned. That’s due to different interests, interests that might end up hurting the company. I am not saying that - and god forbid, anything comes between the three of you, but…you and Taehyung are my best people. A fantastic designer paired with a very persuasive and intelligent shopper - I counted my golden eggs when you and he finished your first couple projects with us. I have never once thought of separating you.”

She steepled her fingers.

“And that will not change - provided, your workplace ethic doesn’t change. You might want to discuss boundaries between yourselves if you’re going to bring your relationship to my doorstep. I will not entertain frayed nerves between my best team, I have already seen that happen once with you and him. You remained professionals because it was a friendship then. I will give you the benefit of the doubt but I don’t hold out much hope for stiff upper lips when it’s love concerned. Am I clear?”

What could you do? You nodded, pressing your hands to your skirt to soak up the sweat gathered there.

“I think I said what I needed to. I hope you heard me. Also, Y/N…I know Kim Seokjin is a very influential man, but you will have to work that much harder to prove that you’re your own success.” She finally cracked a smile - a sad one. “It’s just the way of the world, honey.”

It was humiliating, walking out of her office like a chastised child. Nothing that Wendy had said was wrong - or malicious. She was already a successful woman when you’d dipped your toes into your career. She had never led BHE astray and she had never wronged her employees. It felt shitty to have caused her that kind of disturbance.

And you had no one to blame. You couldn’t blame Seokjin, you couldn’t blame Taehyung. So who did that leave?

It left you, didn’t it? The one who couldn’t move on…the one who made stupid choices that led you here…

You slumped into your office chair, closing off the door and windows. The hours ticked on, your pencil and sketching sheets untouched on your desk.

Your eyes were bleary when they caught the numbers on the clock. The sun must have set ages ago and you hadn’t even realized. Standing up on tired legs, you gathered your bag, the pleasurable twinge long since faded from your body.

It was almost poetic, because now the dreamy bliss of the relationship was shattered by the harsh reality of life.

You drove slowly, eyes heavy and limbs leaden. It took you three tries to park straight and ten minutes to pull out your key from your purse. Plugging it into the elevator, you sighed deeply, laying your head back onto the metal walls.

There was a throb in the back of your skull, the coolness of the metal doing nothing to dim it. It had been there since the afternoon, you supposed from grinding your teeth too much but you welcomed the pain, it’d keep you grounded.

Boundaries…you needed boundaries…

As much as you had jumped headlong into the relationship and despite wanting it to be seamless, you realized the world would never let you do that.

Your earlier insecurities had more weight than they had ever before.

You couldn’t sweep them under the carpet like yesterday’s dust any longer.

All too soon, the elevator was dinging your arrival. You stepped out into the foyer, taking a moment to inhale a bracing breath, finding your will within you. Not taking off your shoes or putting your bag down, you turned the corner, finding Jin and Taehyung on the couch.

They had a chess board open between them. A huge bowl of chips was set next to the board.

It was a painfully domestic picture, one you couldn’t help but smile at, despite yourself. You watched Taehyung grab a handful of chips and chomp down on them messily, shooting a grin at Jin who wrinkled his nose at him. “Complete animal,” He grumbled before noticing you.

“Y/N, baby,” He smiled.

“How was work, babe? I missed you!” Taehyung got to his feet, rubbing his hands off on his sweats. He walked over, reaching for your stuff.

“Why did you tell Min Yoongi that I am your girlfriend, Tae?”

Your question was quiet, serious. Perhaps, too quiet because Tae frowned before leaning in. “What?”

“Min Yoongi, he came to the office today - met up with Wendy. Now Wendy knows that we’re dating.”

Taehyung reeled back, his eyes widening. “I did not tell her anything. I didn’t even tell Min Yoongi - what the fuck, I -” His eyes widened even more when he remembered the instance when he must have blurted it out. “Shit. Ok, so I must have slipped up in front of Min, but I swear I didn’t tell Wendy.”

“I know, I did.”

Taehyung relaxed at that. “Oh, you told her, great. How’d she take it? Are we going to be told ‘I knew it’?”

“No Taehyung,” You sighed, your arms weighing down further when finally he noticed that something was off.

“Wait, what’s going on? Is something wrong?”

“I had to tell her about us when I wasn’t ready , Taehyung. Of course something is wrong.”

There was a moment of confused silence as Jin joined Taehyung, standing shoulder to shoulder. The way they had exited BHE once, the way I had seen them always be. Opposite me, always together…it was the way the world had always seen them.

“Do you know how embarrassing it was, to be told that Wendy would allow us to work together if we can keep our interests for the company the same as it was before? How…insulted I was, when I realised that somehow my name, my reputation would be the one judged and weighed because we love each other?”

“What does it have to do with anything? Did Wendy insult you?” Jin was about to touch you, reach for your hand but you shook your head quickly, balling your fist.

“I told you that I needed time and space to be able to tell people in my own way. Why couldn’t you just do that much for me?”

“I didn’t realise I spit it out! I was so happy that he accepted your rug idea, it just came out. What’s so wrong about it? It’s done and Wendy knows. She’s not kicking us out and she won’t make us work with anyone else. Nothing is going to change.”

“But everything already has changed! Don’t you see? People always assumed that we were together when we weren’t and now people have seen you and Jin be happy for ages. This relationship has already changed a major status quo for people. How can you not see that this relationship is going to affect me a lot more than it affects you two, because I am the one who is intruding.”

Jin’s hand fell, Taehyung’s face blanked completely as they stared at you, hurt and disbelieving. Your heart pounded, rushing your head with too much blood. But there was none of the excitement or electricity that usually accompanied you in their presence.

If anything, you were numb. Even though the look they had trained on you was obviously wounded, you couldn’t find it in you to take their faces in your hands, to shush or soothe. You couldn’t let yourself console them now - considering a barest brush of their skin against yours would crumble you.

If they considered it a mark of your insecurities - as Taehyung  had once put it - you could live with that. But how much of your own person could you handle losing to them, simply because you loved them?

You were used to living as Taehyung’s person, ever since you’d become friends. He had been the breath in your lungs for so long you’d forgotten how to survive breathing without him. And then you’d let Seokjin in as well. From afar, stretching your heart silently to fit two men meant nothing…but could you truly handle it if this stretch bled out?

And what if it bled out at work, staining your hard earned name, painting hours of designs, hours of screen time, your pencil ridden calluses, crimson?

You thought of the way their family would view you. You thought of the way your own family would view you.

They were real things. These were things you needed them to look at through your eyes. And yes, you’d told them you needed to take it slow, to keep them a tightly knit secret - for you to enjoy only for now. It seemed, however, that this knit was unravelling, the threads flying out of your hands too fast for you to control where they went.

“I think…it’s best if we take some time, some space…”

Taehyung’s face crumpled. “No!” His hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist too fast for you to back away.

He yanked you into his chest, arms around you protectively. “You can’t leave, Y/N. I promise you we’ll take care of this. We’ll deal with this together.”

You let his hot exhales soak into your skin, taking care to slip away gently. Taehyung was openly tearing up, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Helpless, you looked at Jin - to understand - to make him understand.

“Do you really want this to come between us?” He asked quietly.

He was as composed as ever. Even the sadness had melted from his face, leaving him to look at you as if he was assessing you.

“Of course not, it’s not about what I want anymore. It’s about how we’ll be seen in the world. It’s about how people will look at me.”

He had nothing to say to that.

“So, we break up because of other people?” He asked finally.

“I’m not leaving you. I just want us to think about a lot of things.”

Taehyung’s eyes flashed up at that.

“We talked about this! A month ago, we were fine…”

You pressed the tips of your fingers to his lips.

“Circumstances have changed, Tae. We didn’t really think of anything but us when we talked that time. We need to consider how the world affects us now. And how and what we will meet the world as.”

You closed up to him.

“Just some time…to think, to sort through things…to work through them…”

He quickly shook his head but you pressed your lips to his softly. He exhaled roughly against you but you hoped he could feel that the kiss wasn’t a farewell, but take it as a plea.

You pulled away to look at your other boyfriend. He’d folded his arms across his chest and it was clearly to keep you at a distance from his body. You respected that. With a simple brush of your fingers over his arm, you went to the dresser to the side, rummaging inside the second drawer for the key to your apartment.

The clang of the keys made Taehyung call your name softly, making you turn to face him again.

“Please,” He begged.

“I’ll call.” You promised.

With that you clutched your handbag tighter to your shoulder and walked away from your breath and heart.

You didn’t call.

At least not that night.

You sent a text to Jin, feeling him being the safer and more stoic option, letting him know that you were safe in your…home? Last apartment…? You didn’t know.

The place still had all your furniture; you were unable to let the place go to empty it. Pulling off the white sheets from your couch, you sat there for a while, staring at the phone in your hand.

The ticks on your message had turned to ‘read’ about fifteen minutes ago, but there hadn’t been any reply save for a cut and dried ‘Good.’ You could respect that as well.

You had been the one to ask for space. You shouldn’t be the one to whine when they obliged.

But it was late and you couldn’t function well enough to take stock of what you’d done. So venturing into your bathroom, you poked at the taps, thanking God when it gave way and clear, cool water poured out.

You scrubbed yourself down quickly, wringing your hair out and wrapping yourself up in a spare towel. You fell asleep on your stripped bed without making it, only putting on one of your old robes you’d left behind to bed.

Every cell in your body screamed to stay in bed the next morning. Your legs burrowed into the fluffy robe, arms cradling your head before you stuffed your face into the mattress, groaning your frustration into it.

You couldn’t take a sick day after being told to work harder to prove yourself. You had to show that you were still YOU.

…but you had no clothes here…

You grumbled to yourself as you threw open the closet doors, eyeing the space critically. Almost all your clothes had been packed up and taken to the Penthouse, leaving behind a few t-shirts and a couple pairs of jeans that you had deemed okay to throw out.

Well…you guessed that was going to be your attire for today. You’d have to go shopping, depending on how long you planned to stay and ‘sort yourself out’.

Of course, you could’ve easily gone back to the penthouse to grab a duffel bag of supplies but real talk, you weren’t brave enough for that.

So tugging on a black tee and the jeans on, you belted your coat over it. You’d have to keep it on for the whole day you thought, dreading going into work and facing Tae and his hurt eyes.

Only he wasn’t there.

You waited until the first two hours, watching the office door with his name plate on not open or shut before you decided that he wouldn't be coming in. You delved for your phone, thumbing into his chatbox…but would it really be appropriate to send a ‘where are you, are you ok?’ text after you’d walked out on them like that?

You clicked out, sighing at the phone and getting to your feet. A day at any one of your sites would take your mind off things…

The same happened the next day. It seemed the tables had been turned. It was Taehyung, who now avoided you while your zeal to keep Wendy’s faith in you intact made you come into work.

You again stared at Tae’s door, growing more uneasy with each passing minute before you had to step out to keep your thoughts away from Taehyung and Seokjin and on your work.

At home, you sat on your couch and got to work on your thoughts. You wanted to be serious about the relationship you were entering. And as an adult, you couldn’t dive headfirst into it before considering all possibilities.

You even kept a pen and pad in front of you.

You’d gone shopping, bringing home a few shirts and slacks and skirts to tide you over. With those stuffed into the closet, you bit into your pen, staring at the pad.

The first thing you put in was your place at your job. For any stability in your workplace, you needed the people there to see you and the boys in a relationship. You needed to show it for them to accept it and not judge and throw labels around.

Irene and Wendy were already taken care of, and you hoped that people would keep their thoughts to themselves as nicely as Wendy did.

You wondered how it would go across in Jin’s own workplace, if he even still wanted people there to know.

You put a question mark beside “families”. You didn’t want to overstep and think you or them were ready for those introductions just yet.

Your social life was taken care of by Joy.

Staring at the list, you were taken aback by how your biggest issues only came down to three bullet points on paper. They seemed so small in black and white, and yet - they were fogging your brain as if nothing more could be done unless you moved them out of your way.

You continued to gnaw on your pen, before glancing at your clock.

9 PM

Leaning back into the couch, you tossed the pad back onto your coffee table. It was late, you were hungry, and now you felt silly because writing down your problems made you think that you were making a bigger problem out of nothing.

Absolute bullshit.

Picking up your phone, you pulled up your favorite food delivery app, scrolling through the options.

You ignored Thai completely, that was something you and Taehyung did. So, settling on some feel good Chinese, you got up to fetch cash and a water bottle.

A few minutes of checking through your To–do list for the next day, you looked up when someone rang the doorbell. You grabbed the money, walking over to open the door.

Only, when you opened it - it wasn’t a package of steaming hot food to fill your belly - it was Yeri.

Yeri, wrapped in a thick muffler and downy sweater, gave you a small smile. Your own smile, meant for the Angel who would deliver your food, flickered, before you leaned your head out to look at both sides of the hallway.

“Yeri, what are you doing here?”

“Seokjin sent me here.” She said and you glanced down at where she rubbed at her palms.

“Come on in.” You mumbled, confused about why Seokjin would send Yeri over. Surely her many capabilities were required elsewhere…

“Thanks,” She undid her muffler as she stepped in, looking around your apartment. “It’s nice, I can see you here.” She smiled again.

This time you returned it in all sincerity before waving her to your couch.

“Right…you said Jin sent you?” You prompted, even handing her the water bottle.

“Oh yes, Seokjin said something about understanding that you need your space but they are worried about you. Apparently you haven’t called them in two days.”

You crossed your arms, frowning at that. “I sent a text, and then Taehyung had been MIA for the last couple days. I thought they wanted to be left alone.”

“Ah,” Yeri nodded a couple times before starting to shake her head. “Miscommunication, it’s always crossed lines,”

“Sorry what?”

“A gap in communication; isn’t that what’s been causing the three of you problems…for a while now, as I understand it? One or more of you would misunderstand something the other wants or says and boom, trouble in paradise.”

You gaped at her, the casual way she put the crux of your relationship drama out into the open. You weren’t sure if you liked it.

Yeri wasn’t done however, she leaned back and patted the couch for you to sit as well.

“Now, I know it’s not my business but I am one of Seokjin’s most loyal employees and one of his closest friends. He tells me things - rambles really, so I know a bit about what’s been going on.”

She paused.

“First of all, congratulations at getting all those pent up feelings to come out, it must have been hard - having to face things you’ve repressed for so long.”

“Oh my god, I…yes - thank you!” You flapped your hands at her words. Finally, finally , someone here who saw - who saw how difficult it was to simply transition from friends to lovers. The changes, the non-changes…they weren’t easy to wade no matter what the rom-coms wanted you to believe.

She squeezed your knee.

“Seokjin said you guys talked about some stuff when you guys began officially dating, but there’s some more stuff that needs addressing?”

“Of course there are,” You pushed the pad towards her. “I know it’s just three things. Silly, but -”

“Problems are problems. You can’t think of them as quality vs. quantity.” Yeri muttered absently before pushing the pad away again.

“So, I take it Work is the biggest issue, right? Because I know Seokjin’s family and they’re very open-minded about his life. Also, there’s a question mark in front of that and a check in front of ‘social life’.”

“God, I can see why Seokjin keeps you around. You’re scarily good at this.” You huffed, running a hand through your hair when she laughed.

“I’ve been solving problems since I entered the biz, Y/N. You get fast about it.” She beamed before turning serious again.

“As for the solution to your problems; I can only tell you one thing. You have to accept your own worth.” She shrugged as if her words were not at all complicated.

“I know what I’m worth - it’s just, labels can make it very hard for me to -”

“Do you? Do you really? How sure are you in your standing if you think your personal life is going to affect your clientele?”

You opened your mouth to answer her, taking a few moments to think first. “Isn’t that how the world works? Why don’t we buy products from companies who test on animals? Why are people so nosy about people who are gay or trans? They think it matters somehow.”

Yeri studied you for a minute, her keen eyes not unlike Seokjin’s. Only, there was an understanding in them you hadn’t seen in him.

“You’re a woman, Y/N. Let’s face it, we are going to be judged under microscopes for simply existing. There’s bigger things that need to be changed before we can change that - but for the time being, we can do something very simple to help ourselves.”

“And what’s that?”

“Live your life by your own standards.” Yeri winked when you looked at her sharply.

“You are one of the leading designers under a very prestigious label. Your boss is a woman who has fought tooth and nail to carve her name and you’ve followed her footsteps. Your name hangs on the credits of a lot of big names in this city. You are competent, efficient, creative and very accomplished. No one can ever change that. No one will ever take that from you. So why are you giving up the men you love for the people who have absolutely zero power over you?”

You stared at her, blinking, considering, absorbing her words.

Yeri placed a hand on yours, making you look in her eyes again.

“Seokjin and Taehyung love you - very much. You three finally have something beautiful together with a lot of potential. Are you going to stop fighting for it because of people? Or are you going to go back and own them, because you want to live the way you want to?”

Your answer was cut off by the ringing of the doorbell again. Yeri left you on the couch to answer it, grinning when she carried back the Chinese you were waiting for and handing the delivery boy the cash on the table.

“Yeri?” You called.

She hummed.

You nearly leapt up off the couch, rushing to your bag to pull out the house key. “Can I trust you to lock up here and keep the key safe? I have someplace I need to be.”

She looked over, glancing at the proffered key set and then back up at you with a knowing smirk. “And the food?”

“Help yourself.”

Yeri nodded, taking the keys from your hand. “I’ll give them back to Seokjin when I see him at the office again, don’t worry.”

“Fantastic,” Grabbing your shoes and making sure you had the elevator key to the penthouse in your bag, you paused at the door before coming back to hug Yeri quickly. “Thank you, I owe you!” You whispered to her.

Yeri chuckled but patted your back. “Seokjin owes me too, remind him that, will you?”

“I will!” You called, shooting out the door.

The elevator ding was as familiar to you as the voice of your mother. The grilled doors couldn’t open fast enough for you as you bounced just behind them on the balls of your feet, too wound up to even take a second to wait.

The drive over had been recklessly blurry but the ride up had somehow sharpened your focus in crystals. You were aware of every groove in the rails and grills and you were aware of every stroke the brush had made of the paint on the foyer walls when the door finally opened.

Your sneaker wearing feet were much quieter than they’d be if they were heels but it made you quicker, turning the corner of the foyer into the main space.

There, at the dining table with his back to you was Jin - again.

It brought back memories of the night out with Joy and Irene, of coming home to him in that exact same place. If you squeezed your eyes shut and tried hard enough, you could almost convince yourself that the last few days hadn’t happened at all.

Something must have alerted Jin to your presence because he turned around to check over his shoulder. At the sight of you, his eyes flew open wider, legs scrambling to heft his tall frame out of the chair.

There he paused, unsure about taking another step towards you. “Y/N,” He said softly, the hesitation in his voice making you surge forward. You crossed the distance between you two with seven determined steps. Your hands clutched his face, pulling his face down to yours.

The kiss was a clash of the warmth of home and coldness of your own face, having just come from outside. Slowly, the heat was soaking into you too, as Jin took a deep inhale into the kiss, his hands cradling your back as if giving you the way to back out if you wanted to.

You didn’t want to. You wrapped your arms around his neck, tiptoeing to delve into him better and then his own arms were wrapping around you as well, familiar and wanting.

“Wait,” He said suddenly, backing off to look at you. “You’re home?” He asked.

“I am.” You smiled widely, when you realized exactly what it was that had made Jin turn to look around. The heavy presence that lingered behind you now made your skin prickle, accompanying Jin’s gaze shifting from you, over your head.

You turned to look at Taehyung, standing by the couch. He was in his pajamas, a thick grey hoodie and sweatpants, socks on his feet. His hands were buried in the pockets as he blinked owlishly at you, hair every which way.

He must have come down the elevator because you hadn’t caught him climbing down the stairs.

“He’s been in bed, for a while now.”Jin murmured, low enough so only you could hear him. It made your heart thump painfully, thinking about his absence and him spending the days in bed. Had he heard you coming in? Or simply come down to grab supplies?

“Taehyung,” You breathed, Jin letting you go so you could take halting steps towards your other boyfriend. His eyes remained sleepy, hands not moving out of his pockets.

A few steps in, he shifted, the socks shuffling on the floor.

“You’re here.” He said, simply.

“Yeah,” You waited to take another step, finally closing in enough to see his eyes had focused, looking resolutely down at his toes.

“I didn’t think you’d come back. You didn’t even notice me not going to work.”

“Of course I did, I just didn’t think it’d be appropriate to text after leaving the way I did.” You touched him, just your fingertips at his elbow and he shuddered.

“You’re still my best friend though. You could’ve used that as an excuse.”

That made you straighten up, your touch more sure on him. “I don’t want any more excuses. Not from me especially,”

Taehyung gazed at where your fingers had curled over his arm. “So what brought you back?”

You smirked over at Jin. “Yeri knocked some sense into me. Also I put my problems down on paper and they felt too small and ridiculous for me to give up on the men I love.”

“You love us.” You looked back at Tae, while he now gazed at you, those soft dark eyes wide.

“You know that.”

“You’ve never said it like that before.”

You would’ve asked what he meant by that but you were suddenly distracted by a bear hug. Taehyung crushed you to his chest, his face burying in your hair as he took long gasping breaths.

“I missed you so fucking much. I thought I’d die. I am filthy and desperate. I thought Jin was going to start sleeping in the guest bedroom.”

His word vomit was only barely legible but you caught it all, pulling away to trace his features.

“I’m here now. I won’t go anywhere.”

“We can do anything you want. Counselling, family introductions - mine already know you of course - anything you want.”

You shushed him quickly, feeling Jin pad over to calm down his boyfriend. “We’re going to do what we want. What’s going to be good for us , collectively… together , right?” You looked at Jin.

“Absolutely; also, you don’t stink that much - but please go take a shower…and eat something.”

Taehyung lifted his eyes from yours to Jin’s, pouting. “Fine, can we get take-out?”

“Thai?”

“God yes.”

The sound of lapping water had lulled you into a state of absolute calm. You weren’t asleep - just conscious enough of your surroundings, but close.

You were aware of the warm chest at your back, of the hand that was stroking through the strands of your hair, scratching gently into your scalp at times. You were almost complete laying back against Taehyung, his legs parted to accommodate you as your head rested near his clavicle.

Jin sat right next to the two of you, his hand still cradling a bowl of thai. His eyes gazed out over the city line view, sometimes turning to you and Taehyung dozing and getting soft before he looked back out again.

The water was warm, perfect and you were finally home - in the loving embrace of the men who owned your heart and soul.

Taehyung had showered while you and Jin put on a movie - an old family classic that he loved and waited on the couch for the food. Yeri had texted Jin around that time, causing him to snort and ask you if you couldn’t have waited till the next day to rush over.

Of course you could have. But you hadn’t wanted to.

With the food delivered, and all of you sufficiently starving, you’d torn into the containers as if you hadn’t eaten in days, getting through the rice, stews and meat in a matter of minutes - right at the couch.

An hour or so later, Taehyung had suggested breaking into the pool - something none of you had gotten to do while at the Penthouse.

So the pool on the terrace had been filled enough to sit in, whatever remained of the food brought up and into the water you’d gone.

Right then, in your best friend and lover’s embrace, if someone had told you to stay there forever, you’d have been content. However, you could feel Jin shifting next to you, uncomfortable and disturbed.

Your head automatically rolled to the side, peering up at him and trying to discern what exactly was it that had him squirming. It took a few seconds for your dazed brain to make sense of what you were seeing before your head tilted up.

Taehyung had his hand wrapped around Jin’s length - poking up from where his swimming shorts had been tugged down his thighs.

You turned to look at your lovers, eyebrows up into your hairline. Jin eyed you with his lips pulled between his teeth, while Taehyung’s hand slipped from your hair, unabashed and shameless.

“What? I’ve missed having you two this close to me. I want to touch and play.”

You stared back down to where Taehyung increased the pace of the torturous grip he had on his lover, the water making the slide both easier and harder. It was fascinating, the way Jin’s head kept tilting back, unable to hold eye contact anymore. He finally tipped back, the bowl hurriedly placed onto the pool's edge to keep from spilling over, the line of his neck popped, moving along the moan that fell from his lips.

“It’s been a while hasn’t it, baby? Did you miss my hand, my mouth?” Taehyung sat up on his knees, placing delicate kisses along those nerves you’d been staring at.

“Your fucking ass.” Jin grunted loudly, making both of you giggle.

Watching your boyfriends now, gave you an idea. You knew that they liked to watch you with the other. But you’d never had the opportunity to really sit back and watch them at it.

So you drew back, carefully so they wouldn’t notice the water displacing too much around them. Opposite them you crossed your legs, just watching, still in that half sleepy, half fascinated haze.

It was a picture. A beautiful, envious picture - with Taehyung leaning into Jin, mouthing at the thin skin that joined his neck to his shoulder. Jin’s shorts had been now pushed to his knees, back lowered into the water to give more access to his cock for Taehyung.

It reminded you awfully of that evening in the Thai restaurant, when Jin had fingered you in that booth.

Your legs curled, hands moving over your lower body with a mind of their own. Your fingertips trailed over the round of your stomach, loving on the delicate skin under it, tickles from the water and the sensation of your hands winding you up further.

You had no idea when you were slipping out of the boy shorts you had on. Your hand fell to your core, hot even in the comparatively cooler water.

The next guttural, deep groan from Jin reverberated through your own hands, applying pressure right there.

The first whimper out of you had both men’s eyes flash to you, zeroing on your hand at work between your legs.

“Ah baby, you like watching me make a mess out of our Jinnie?” Taehyung panted out, running a palm down the flat of Jin’s chest, now both hands around the thick, throbbing length.

You didn’t answer, instead choosing to copy his action on your own body, the second hand dipping into the slick you could feel gathering at your entrance.

“I think she’s caught your voyeurism bug.” Jin laughed, thrusting his hips further into Tae’s hands, arms now along the edge of the pool.

“Sit on the edge, Princess. I want to watch you make yourself come while Tae plays with me.”

The command was so filthy and yet so compelling you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no. Hiking yourself up, you sat right at the edge of the pool in front of them. At this height of the high rise building, you had the security that not many people could see the abominably lewd display you put on. You were only doing this for two pairs of eyes and those were the only ones you cared about at the moment.

You used the sight of Taehyung’s quickly moving hands as fuel, harshly rubbing into your own clit to get the juices flowing again.

“Once this is done, I am going to eat you out, baby. I haven’t had your taste on my tongue for so long.” Taehyung’s voice lowered into a deep whine and you ran your nails over the inside of your thigh, fingers slipping into your cove.

“That’s it baby, pump those fingers in you.” Jin murmured, egging you on.

And yet, your own fingers felt nothing as good as you knew theirs would. The length of theirs, the angles they hit, the expertise they’d got on your body and pleasure. You wanted them to do it, period.

Your dissatisfaction must have been obvious because Taehyung chuckled darkly. “Not enough?”

You answered by removing your fingers, your hole dripping and bereft of the fullness you really craved at the moment.

“We’ve spoiled you, haven’t we? What, your own fingers aren’t good enough anymore?”

The words were cruel but you took none of them to heart, only running your slick ridden fingers up to your nipples, now freed of your bikini top. You rubbed the wetness onto the peaking nubs, throwing your head back in a lascivious show.

With twin cries of curses, you were crowded. Hands cupped your pussy, two long digits you’d wanted filling you up to the knuckle, curled perfectly to rest in your sweet spot.

A tongue laved over your breasts, running over the underside before fluttering up to trap your swollen nipple.

You cupped Taehyung's head closer to you, another hand gliding down to wrap around Jin’s wrist, to make him increase his speed.

The crude sounds of groaning, grunting and the squelching sounds had you tightening, eyes fluttering shut until you were sensation itself - unable to tell where one of you ended and the other began.

Voices murmured in your ear, words of praise, joy over reconciliation and you’d have returned them, if only you weren’t being flushed away with pleasure, the feeling of their love and efforts towards you thick and viscous in your nerves.

“I want you two inside of you.” You managed to say, gasp out more like and both men halted, looking at each other before down at you.

“Are you sure? We’ve never actually…” Jin started to trail off.

“We’ve never done something like that with you before.” Taehyung picked up the mantle instead.

They removed themselves from you, Jin pulling away his hand and Taehyung sitting next to you to look intently at you.

“I’m sure. I mean, we can take it slow but I’m sure.”

Tae and Jin gave you another serious look before looking at each, long and hard - the way you knew they were having an important conversation.

“Okay, but let’s just work up to it, alright?” Tae said as Jin wrapped a hand under your jaw to make you look up at him.

“We do anything you feel uneasy with, you stop us.”

You promised you would, through squeezed cheeks before your lovers were moving.

“How do you want us?”

You looked down to where Jin’s length bobbed, “I want to suck you off while Tae fucks me.”

Not the sort of words you’d ever had the gall to say in the month you’d shared their bed and it only worked to make Jin’s length twitch, Taehyung openly groaning.

“If spoiling you makes this open, then we gotta do it more.”

Taehyung helped you bend over Jin’s lap while Jin secured your shoulders and neck against his strong legs. Even with you nuzzling against his hot, hard cock and Tae running the leaking head of his over your slit, Jin’s voice was soft and concerned.

“You tell us if anything feels off.” He said again, your hum reverberating in his skin before you engulfed him into your mouth.

Jin’s breath rattled and Taehyung took that as cue to slide into you, slow - careful - brilliant.

Your lips stretched around Jin’s girth, the angle you bent at making the action feel new and different as he slid over your tongue. You paused there, feeling Taehyung manage to run his member into you until his hips touched your rear.

It was a rather…fresh feeling - something original.

It was exciting.

Terrifying somehow, but exciting - as trying anything for the first time was.

“Y/N, good?”

It was Tae, voice deep from the restraint lust he wielded and you could barely nod with Jin’s cock in your mouth. Thankfully they got the message.

Pulling back, Tae set an unhurried and meticulous pace, careful to hit the spots he knew you had but making sure not to push it too much.

Getting used to the increasing sparks of pleasure, you used your hands to attend to the rest of Jin. Cupping his balls, you ran the tip of your tongue over the base before licking up to the top.

Jin braced his hands back, chest heaving as he allowed you to pleasure him the way you could with this new position. Taehyung’s hands were slowly digging into the flesh of your hips, fingers tight on you as his thrusts - though still unrushed - increased in hardness. They were enough to push you further into Jin who wrapped a hand into your hair, scratching and massaging into your scalp, soothing you through the act.

Between the way Taehyung aimed his hips into yours and Jin’s cock breaching into your throat, leaving you to choke and slobber over his skin, you came first. Your back arched, Jin’s hand still curled into your hair. Taehyung grabbed your shoulders, helping you to arc just so he could move inside you the way you liked. It wasn’t explosive, not the way you came when Jin and Taehyung actively focused on you. It was an earthquake, crumbling you to fall against your older boyfriend. Leisurely you stroked him, kissing at his chest while he broke out in goosebumps, beginning to squirm again.

His eyes had fallen shut by now, hips canting up to chase the lazy release you offered and then he was spilling over your hand - reminiscent of the restaurant. Thick globs of his come coated over your fingers and palm and instead of moving to clean up, you raised your hand to your mouth, sucking a finger of his juices clean off.

Taehyung came last. Still working up to it inside you, he cursed roughly at the sight of his boyfriend coming for his girlfriend, before finally losing it when he watched you lick his essence off.

Hips crashing into yours, he forced you further into Jin, hands flying to your chest to grip your breasts like handholds, emptying himself into you.

You took deep breaths, cushioned against Jin’s body now as Taehyung waited a second to pull out of you, his hand pressing deliciously into your used core.

“I’m saying it again. We need to spoil you more and more.” He repeated, helping you stand up straight. You turned to kiss him, Jin closing in now to pepper light kisses over your shoulder and neck.

The pool water continued to lap away at your bodies, thankfully the space had only been filled to knee length, not enough to hinder your actions. The air had chilled as the night grew old, making all of you huddle closer.

Lust dissipated, and in its wake, only left a craving for comfort.

“We should get to bed.” Jin muttered.

“We should clean up first.” You added.

Grabbing the bowls and towels you’d brought up, discarded clothes were collected, feet hurrying to get back into the warmth of the penthouse.

“Hey,”

You glanced back to where Taehyung was wrapping his towel around his waist.

“I meant what I said. Anything you want, we’ll do it. Don’t worry about what people will think.”

You stared for a minute, smiling as you pulled him closer to you.

“And I meant what I said; I’m not going anywhere. I love you. I love Jin. You’re my home.”

Taehyung tilted his head to look at you, eyes soft like the very first day you’d called him your best friend.

“I’m home.”

[egoludes]

satisfaction guaranteed.

summary: your super soldiers hear there’s a new contender in the bedroom; they intend to learn all about it.

pairing: stucky x reader.

notes: ok, i’ll admit it - this is so outrageously self-indulgent and fully inspired by a recent, um, purchase. i was hoping to get it out in time for valentine’s day, but then work kicked my ass - so consider it a delayed love letter to y’all heh. my apologies in advance to the manufacturers of the sex toy featured here; please don’t sue me? borders from deathlyrph!

warnings: nsfw / 18+, threesome, sex toy, implied & light overstimulation

He doesn’t mean to listen in - scout’s honor.

There just isn’t much that Bucky’s super soldier hearing misses and the raving of some very giddy --- and very drunk --- Avengers is nowhere near that list. He’s actually pleased to hear the way you, Natasha, and Wanda are carrying on when he rounds the corner. Missions have been taking a toll lately, keeping everyone on the team on edge and up late. You, in particular, have been distant, putting on a facade that never quite reaches your eyes, and he and Steve have been on wit’s end trying to perk you up.

The ladies, it seems, have it all figured out.  You’re laughing freely for the first time in weeks, and Bucky’s grateful that no one (particularly Sam) can see the way the sound makes him utterly lovesick. His adoration keeps him still a few seconds longer, basking in how free you seem, but he doesn’t intend to stay much past that. In fact, he’s a half-step into leaving when he hears it:

“So, wait -- have you tried it yet? The Satisfyer?” 

Confusion brings him to a full stop. Satisfyer? 

That feeling only grows, knitting his eyebrows, when you’re the one to answer with an emphatic, and damn near dreamy “Yes.”

Bucky’s an intelligent man and the name alone is a pretty effective context clue. Still, he doesn’t really put it together until Wanda squeals and Nat (who he can see in his mind’s eye, clear as day, leaning into you with that cheeky smirk) pushes you for more.

“It’s kind of...overwhelming,” you continue, pausing to refill your glass, “but in the best way. Like in a ‘How did I ever masturbate before this’ kind of way. My knees literally buckled when I got up after. Can you believe that? Buckled! I was fuckin’ woozy! ” He can tell you’re animated just by the way your volume starts to rise and whatever you’re doing must be endearing because even Natasha is chuckling.

Bucky still loves it, don’t get him wrong. In fact, he adores you excited like this, especially after all the darkness lately. But, there’s something genuinely puzzling about so much excitement around a sex toy. He hadn’t even known you’d bought something new. When had you tried it? Where were he and Steve?

His thoughts start to swirl, intrigue and curiosity mounting in a wave that he pushes past with a step, then another, as he reminds himself that he has somewhere to be.

No chance he’ll be forgetting about this, though. 

Steve hears about it from Bucky. 

Secondhand stories can be tricky; full of exaggerations and misunderstanding. But, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe it. He just doesn’t comprehend the implications of it until he experiences it for himself. 

That happens on a Saturday afternoon. 

You’d been tense in training, taking hits you’ve dodged a thousand times and fumbling moves you’ve done twice that. A bad bout typically doesn’t do you in, but Steve can tell by the way your attacks grow more and more stilted, that you’re overextending just to make blows meet. 

It gets so bad that he breaks one of his few cardinal rules -- never pulling rank with you or Bucky outside of missions -- to get you out of the spar, and your frustration with it is as clear as the exhaustion that sags your limbs. You’re out the door before he can apologize, or explain.

An hour later, he’s showered and changed, seeking you out in your corner of the compound with peace offerings at the ready. This time, they come in the form of your favorite snack and a promise to spar with you himself the next time you’re scheduled - no holds barred. 

But, when you pull open the door at his knock, he’s surprised to see that he may not need them.

You’re completely...sated. The tension you’d had in your shoulders when you left the gym is nowhere to be found and in its place is a sheen of satisfaction. It’s all over you: in a dopey smile, lidded eyes, and the faint whiff of your cunt he gets when he leans into you.

In an instant, he puts two and two together, and Steve feels his body warm at the realization that you’ve just finished touching yourself. And not just that: it had been so good that your entire mood’s flipped and you’re beaming at him, no walls or reservations.

He makes his apology all the same, though, and your smile widens as you reach for him and the snack in a tease: “Better not back out on that fight, Captain.”

He grins back, pleased you’re feeling better, but making a mental note to speak to Bucky as soon as you let him go.

I think we need to check out this ‘Satisfyer’.

They ask you about it on Valentine’s Day.

You’re running on the high of a beautiful evening: dinner in DUMBO and drinks in Brooklyn Heights. The latter -- a couple cocktails for you, white wine for your boys -- finds you buzzing as you let them into your room back at the compound. You feel eyes on your hips from behind, heavy gazes that sear the curves, and you sway pointedly, smiling at the sharp breaths that follow. 

You know where the night is going ---- know the way a good date makes them handsy. So the attention is no surprise. Neither is the cool press of metal to your back and the kiss to that spot under your ear. “Bed, pretty girl,” Bucky drawls against your skin, intent pressing -- and growing -- against your hip as he settles against you.

Steve rounds you from the other side, not touching but so close you can feel the rise of heat from his body. You look up just in time to catch him watching you back, blue eyes darkening with each step into your bedroom.

Your dress is easy work, pooling at your ankles with a few good pulls, But, Steve and Bucky take their time with everything else. You’re in something special, after all --- pretty lace and dewey colors that deserve an extra look, an extra touch. They’re on you the moment it’s revealed to them, thumbing the fabric with murmured praise through the lips all over your skin. 

The daze it sets follows you all the way to the mattress where you lay back against Steve’s chest (still clothed, to your chagrin) with his arms settled around you. His hands end up bracing your thighs, naturally at first, then deliberately as Bucky starts to kiss trails up and over your calf. With the latest string of missions, you can’t remember the last time you had their mouths on you and the anticipation as Bucky’s creeps closer is almost crippling. Your body tenses with each point of contact, eyes lidding as they watch him rise, inch by tortuous inch. 

“Sweetheart.” Steve’s voice pulls you out of your focus with a rumble you can feel in your back. “We wanna try something new with you tonight.” You turn just enough to watch him, answering with a hum to urge him on. “Can you tell Buck,” he continues, dipping to run his nose along yours. You feel tiny when he bears down on you like this, and he can see the way it affects you just in the flutter of your lashes. “--where you keep your ‘Satisfyer’?”

What?

In a split second, you’re sobered up, no hint of the lust or buzz that’d been following you for most of the night. Bringing toys to bed isn’t new by any means, but they have never, ever referred to one by name like that. Nor requested it specifically. It’s so startling that you don’t know what to say for a moment, mind utterly blank until you feel Bucky’s hand tighten around your thigh to bring you back.  “You -- my what?”

“Satisfyer,” Steve echoes, hand resting on your tummy. From below, you can feel Bucky’s eyes burning into the side of your face, expectant. “Buck’s heard you mention it before, and we’d like to know what all the fuss is about. ---- If you’re willing, that is.”

You look back and forth between them, mouth gaping for a second before you swallow your shock down whole. Two super soldiers can be a lot to manage on their own -- adding a toy that’s knocked you on your ass a few times over now seems like a very dangerous game. But, you can feel Steve hardening against your back and can’t deny the slick that’s seeping through your panties at the thought alone. So you nod, lip pulled between your teeth, and direct Bucky to the left side of your bottom drawer. 

When he’s back between your legs, it’s with the rose gold toy in hand. The mere sight of it makes you clench; something he doesn’t miss when he’s that close to your core. “Someone’s excited,” Bucky muses, brow arching before his gaze returns to his hand. The Satisfyer is unlike any toy he’s ever seen, shaped more like some alien gadget than a vibrator, and no amount of Google sleuthing could’ve prepared him for what it feels like in person. The smoothness of it in his hand, the unique curves along his palm. You bite back a giggle at how intently he inspects it, turning it over this way and that to get used to its weight.

“Hmm.. that’s definitely different,” Steve chimes in, as focused on the toy as Bucky is. It isn’t hard to work out how it’s used from the design alone, but what they’re still itching to know is what it does. How it unravels you so well, until your knees buckle even. And it doesn’t take long for that anticipation to trump their curiosity and you’re brought back to the moment when Steve ducks his head to your shoulder, pressing kisses to the skin there as he smooths hands down your inner thighs. He draws his palms back and forth a few times until they suddenly still, and he’s holding your legs -- and you -- wide open. “How about we give it a go, pal?” 

Bucky says nothing in return, but he probably doesn’t have to. The toy clicking to life is enough, a rhythm that fills the room with anticipation. Your tummy tightens at the sound -- another reaction neither man misses -- and the tension stays put, coiled tight until the Satisfyer closes over your clit.

The first pulse knocks air out of you that you hadn’t realized you were holding. The ones that follow unfurl you, melting your anticipation in favor of a soft, thrumming pleasure that coats you head to toe. It’s odd, having someone else use it on you, but in a good way. The best way. 

You surrender to it, relaxing into Steve’s hold as Bucky holds you open with two fingers.  So far, that’s no different than normal --- you’re always this pliant for them, putty beneath their fingers once they get to work. But, tonight, they’re greedy. Tonight, they want more from you; want whatever this toy has been able to draw out in their absence.

Bucky kicks things up a notch, turning the pulse up two speeds. The change is subtle to them, clicks coming just a smidgen faster and louder. For you, it seems to make all the difference. Immediately, you react, back arching up from its place against Steve’s chest with a sound that makes the Captain purr behind you.

“Mm...must feel good,” he notes, a hand gliding along your tummy until he can palm your breast. “Can you tell us, sweetheart?” He punctuates the question with fingers around your nipple, tweaking lightly.

Your lips part, but no words follow; not at first. It’s like your body and mind are disconnected, static in the places where they usually go together. The fuzziness is welcome, but hard to speak through, and it’s all you can do just to whine when Steve gives your nipple an urgent pinch. Bucky joins in with a cool finger pressing at your cunt, the light whirring from his arm giving you something concrete enough to focus on. ‘S good,” you finally pant, twisting to tuck your head into Steve, “so good.”

Bucky huffs out a chuckle and your entire body goes tight; with his face so close, you can feel every breath. “That mean you’re gonna let us finish you up, just like this?”

It’s a rhetorical question --- has to be, the way he presses the toy tighter to your clit. Still, you answer with an eager nod, legs widening some as if to give him the go ahead. “Please, Buck, ‘m close already, it -- right there, I-I’ll--” Your pleas are pretty, a desperate melody, and they appease every base instinct Bucky has. He’d wanted to keep you on edge a little longer to explore the toy more, but he’s a sucker for his girl; always has been. You win him over without even trying. 

Steve isn’t far behind, cock leaking in his dress pants seeing you so desperate. He hasn’t gotten his hand on the toy yet, but even he seems to feel its effect. The hand that isn’t cupping your breast spreads over your tummy, delighting in the way the flesh underneath tightens and spreads. You’re certainly close --- he knows your body as well as you do. And the thought of it makes him hungry, makes him press teeth into the skin behind your ear as he urges you on: “Go on, honey -- make a mess for us.”

Your peak comes fast after that, punching you in the gut with its intensity. The first wave of orgasm runs right through you, leaving a tremble in its wake, and your hips twist instinctively to escape the toy. Bucky, however, isn’t so forgiving, metal curling around your hip in a vice. Ride it out, he seems to say with a dark, lidded glance from between your legs. 

You whimper in response, head tipping back against Steve’s chest as you fumble for purchase in the warmth of Bucky’s free hand. 

Something tells you this will be a long night. 

Forty minutes later, you can’t see straight.

Your first orgasm had been gradual, as tentative as the men watching this new toy work you. But, after that, it’s like a flip switches in Bucky and Steve, making them greedy for as many more as they can get.

The second one isn’t long after the first. Bucky turns the Satisfyer up to the highest setting, the other end of the spectrum that you hadn’t even gotten a chance to try on your own yet. The first contact lights fire through your sensitive body and you’re on the brink in just minutes.  Toes stretching and curling into the sheets by Bucky’s hips, you’re practically squirming with need and it only takes one good twist of the toy for you to crumble all over again. They give you a break after that, but most of it is spent kissing you too long for you to catch your breath.

You don’t mind that too much, though.

The third orgasm is Steve’s fault. Ever the strategist, he starts thinking through the ways they can play with frequency and angle to make you cum again. You don’t notice it in your foggy comedown, but he’s fished his phone out and flicked through to a page he’s looked over more times that he cares to admit. And when Bucky settles between your legs to get you going again, he finally speaks up. “Buck, I found this review online---” Both you and Bucky turn to him, curiosity in the way you gape, but he’s making a face back that’s loud and clear:  ‘do not ask’. “---that said they were able to cum in a couple minutes with this alone. Had some interestin’ suggestions about how, too.” He grins around a Brooklyn drawl, that handsome face stirring something in you when it looks so devious. “You think we can get our girl finished faster than that?”

They pull it off -- embarrassingly easily at that -- and it’s in the pale of that third climax that they finally, finally press inside you. 

Your cunt is soaked, supple and warm around Steve as he sits you down over his cock. After so much play, the stretch is nothing, a pleasant burn in the pit of your belly that makes your eyes flutter closed. 

“Tell us how you feel,” Steve asks for the second time that night, his voice strained around the effort to keep from fucking you. Even if you’re taking him well -- easier than ever before, in fact -- he’s cautious not to lose his head, no matter how much he wants to. 

No matter how much the urge to plow you into your mattress dizzies him.

Your eyes are still closed when you respond, tongue over your dry lips as you part them with a needy sound. “S-Still good…,” you sigh, mind swimming. You want to move, start to move in a mindless search for some friction. But, the rocking doesn’t last long, stuttering to a stop when you hear the toy click to life  and try to focus through the haze of your pleasure with eyes darting for answers.

You find them in the smug grin on Bucky’s face as he palms the Satisfyer in one hand and works his cock out of his pants with the other. “What,” he purrs, voice lilted in a taunt, “you didn’t think we were done with this yet, did you?”

Oh yeah --- this’ll definitely be a long night.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Rules: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: You two have one rule when it comes to your hookups: don't fall in love. So what happens when one of you breaks that rule? (based on a anon request that Tumblr ATE UP)

wc: 1.8k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

You're riding him as fast as you can, hands cupping your breasts and tweaking your nipples.

"God, this feels so damn good," Suguru hisses beneath you, eyes holding yours captive. His hand moves away from your left breast, sliding down your stomach and resting on your clit.

"Mmm... Su..." you breathe, your hands pressed on either side of him as your hips slam into his. "That's perfect."

Panting, sweating messes. That's what you're both reduced to every Friday evening when he comes through your door and fucks you until you can't walk. And he leaves before sun-up, just as you ask, placing the spare key beneath the mat at the door after he locks up behind himself.

"You gonna cum soon?" Suguru wonders, but not because he wants to rush you. No, you look down in those onyx eyes and see his desire to withhold himself from cumming for just a little bit longer. He wants to feel your walls rock against his length for as long as he can before giving himself up to you. Suguru loves it when you spasm around his cock - and loves it when you squirt even more - but every single time, he cums right after you. It's not because he's weak; no, that's never been the case.

Your pleasure means so much to him. And when he delivers you the best, toe-curling orgasm of the week, you can't help but let yourself indulge in the sensations and ride it out as well.

But the first caveat to your little arrangement was Rule #1: that neither of you could fall in love. The moment one of you catches feelings, it's over. And you were starting to see that it could very well be Suguru that catches feelings, just like all of the ones who came before him.

The only difference between them and this black-haired devil beneath you was that he'd not only lasted a full six months, but he was the only one that could truly satisfy you. You never felt like Suguru used you as a fuck toy or masturbated into your body just for the feeling of a warm cunt surrounding his twitching cock. Your pleasure meant something to him, even if he left before daylight.

Those are your rules, however.

Soft lips bring you back to the present, and a gentle scrape of the teeth against the flesh of your breast makes you moan loudly.

"Suguru, I--"

"Hush, y/n," he mutters, tongue darting out to flick your nipple. "I'm not done with you yet."

Rule #2: no pet names. And he'd stuck to it, only calling you by your name as he fucked you into the couch, or moaned your name as you came around his length.

"Fuck..." you breathe as he sucks on your breasts over and over again, switching between the two at his leisure. And still, he's bouncing you on his dick, making you shudder.

Rule #3: Condoms. Every. Single. Time. And Suguru never came empty-handed.

You'd gotten rid of men the first time they came over without a condom and blamed it on their brain, even though you kept a stash hidden in the bottom cabinet of the bathroom. Those were reserved for hookups with men who weren't on your schedule or for when you used your strap-on; not for "forgetful" people.

"Oh, shit," you breathe. "I think I'm going to cum..." Suguru nods, pressing you against his chest and speeding up his strokes.

God damn, he's intuitive, you think as he brings you to the edge and tips you over like only he can. When you shudder and whimper in his ear, Suguru grunts softly, hips stuttering as he cums right behind you. It's always been like this, you muse, kissing the man deeply and with feeling. It's never going to change.

_____________________________________________________________

Change comes when you first step into the high-end department store, and you spot a silk gold and black tie hanging on a display.

"Suguru would like that," you think aloud, imaging him tying it on just like he takes them off before wrapping them around your h-- You smack your cheek, waking yourself up from the semi-lewd fantasy. You forget all about the occurrence until you pass by the cologne department, and catch a whiff of a familiar scent.

"Miss," you ask, stopping in front of an associate. "What's that scent?" When the lady rattles off some famous cologne brand, you inhale the fresh scent again, suddenly transported to the time you buried your face in Suguru's neck and smelled his hair for the first time. "Thank you," you quickly mutter, and walk away from the counter as fast as you can. Your hands begin to shake as you place the shoes you just bought on, looking at them in the store mirror right as the words 'maybe I should ask Suguru how they look' rolls through your mind.

Your assigned stylist gives you a frightened glance as you growl and take the shoes off, stuffing them back into the box in her hands as you hiss, "I'll take them."

What the hell is happening to me? you wonder as you drive home impatiently, honking at every person who minorly inconveniences you as you speed down the highway. It's not even Friday, but thrice you've thought about asking Suguru to come over and spend time with you. Three times!

You drop your keys onto the counter and sit on your couch, burying your hands in your face as you think, think, think...

Cancel with Ryoma. Cancel with Aizen. Cancel, cancel, cancel...

You shoot off various text messages in a short amount of time, cutting the other five men out of the schedule. You can find others to fit into Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday if you need to. You just need it to be Friday and fast.

"Hello?" the soft voice murmurs when you dial - picked up on the second ring.

"Hey," you whisper nervously. "Um, Monday canceled and I'm feeling a little stressed. Are you free tonight?" Some papers shift around in the background, and you bite your lip as you wait for an answer. It seems like forever until you hear:

"Yeah, let me finish up at the office. I'll be there around seven, alright?"

"Alright." You hang up just as a rush of adrenaline pumps through you, making you shower and dress with vigor. You even put on the new shoes and a nice set of lingerie to match. All for Suguru. You tie a robe over yourself and sit at your computer - it's six-fifteen - to do some work as a distraction. And it proves fruitful because when the doorbell rings, it's seven o'clock.

You straighten your robe and walk to the door, fixing your hair before opening it up and grinning at Suguru, who is still dressed in his slacks and a button-down shirt. The top button is open slightly and his sleeves are bunched up around his elbows, but he offers you his sweet smile as well, stepping into the house with ease.

"You look really nice. Are those new shoes?" he asks, tossing his jacket over the back of the couch and turning back to you.

"Why yes, they are," you sing, walking toward him slowly, leisurely. "Do you like them?"

"Do you care?" Suguru wonders, cupping your chin and kissing your lips gently. "I'm going to take them off of you in a second anyways."

"You have all night to think about that," you tease, tugging him toward your bedroom. "But I'd prefer you let me wear them while you fuck me." Suguru lets out a surprised chuckle, following you into the room and shutting the door behind him.

But even after he's fucked you senseless, you can't sleep. Your earlier thoughts haunt you and a twinge of guilt eats at your brain as you lay against a sleeping Su, head resting on his chest as he holds you close. Even when you see the clock hours change from ten to eleven, to twelve to three am, you can't help but dread the moment when he would awake and leave you alone in the bedroom.

And when six o'clock comes, his watch buzzes on the nightstand, shaking him from his hazy sleep.

Your fingers curl into his side, and Suguru groans, rubbing his eyes.

"You awake?" he whispers into the darkness, but you don't reply, hoping he would just lay there for a few minutes more. "Y/n? Your heart is beating a mile a minute."

"So?"

"So..." He shifts up, petting your hair gently. "I think we need to talk." Your heart plummets into your stomach, and you try not to react sharply, but Suguru clears his throat as he turns on the bedside lamp. You look up into his black eyes, and he blinks in the light, biting his bottom lip at the sight of you fully awake. "Why did you call me over here and not anyone else?" You fumble for an answer, but thinking of a lie just wouldn't do. Not for Suguru. "Aren't you breaking your rule?"

"No," you counter, sitting up straight. "I'm not falling in love with you. Your dick, maybe. But not you." The look in his eyes tells you that he knows you're lying. You hang your head, fighting back an apology.

"We should call this off if that's the case."

"No," you whisper, shaking your head. "I don't want that."

"I don't want that either," Suguru murmurs, tilting your chin up with his fingers. "But what happens if you go back to..." You sigh, looking away. "I'm a jealous lover, y/n. I'm not the kind to play around with."

"And I won't," you reply, head snapping back to meet his eyes. "I..." you exhale shakily. "I couldn't stop thinking about you when I was at Bergdorf's." The admission doesn't shock Suguru, but he does clasp his hands together. "Everything reminded me of you, and I--" You break off, hands shaking. "I'm scared."

"Have you discussed this with anyone else?" The question implies the obvious, and you look to your phone, opening it up and letting him see the contacts "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Saturday, Sunday" all with the same message:

Sorry, I have to cancel our weekly rendevous. Hope you understand.

"Am I saved as Friday?" Suguru chuckles, but you scroll down a little more, and his name pops up: Suguru Geto.

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head.

"I'm the special one, huh?" You turn his head toward you, leaning in to kiss him on the lips once.

"Please, let me break my rules for you." Suguru groans, leaning into your touch and kissing your palm in response.

"Let me start right now then, babe. And don't worry, we'll take it one rule at a time." You giggle as he tosses your phone aside and leans into you, kissing you just like he did before and switching off the light as daybreak comes.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @r-i-m-f-009 @sunfloweroranges @leanne-tamashi @rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @savantsoulfinder @chilledlucifer @kontentious @flare-on @meena-in-a-nutshell @falling-through-pages @naoyasdarling @vabybizzle

[2jaeh]

Bibliophile | Xiaojun x Reader

Genre: fluff, smut

Word count: 2,3k

Warnings: mature themes

Author: SIN

Two literature master students decide to make their steamy romance troupe debates a reality.

——————————————————————————

Your heels clicked against the marble floors as you ran over to the university library, hoping the evening rain wouldn’t worsen when you crossed the open courtyard.

Most of the students were either heading back to their dorm rooms or messing around in the common areas, while the only thing that rang in your head was to not be late for your part-time job at the restricted section of the library.

At first you had no damn clue why they needed someone to work there, especially since some of the books were even restricted to lecturers. But thanks to your century old university and their obsession with keeping their sacred books in pristine condition, all they needed was a literature masters student to help out from time to time.

You entered the library and greeted the woman at the front desk before she buzzed you in through to the door that led upstairs to the restricted area.

You quickly jogged up the stares and swung open the door only to be greeted by the only other person working around here, Xiao Dejun.

“You’re late again” his lips curled into a smile as he pushed up his gold framed glasses and inspected a dust covered book.

“Yeah the rain was just-“

“Crazy ?” Dejun peered up and pursed his lips, knowing that every excuse you had always ended in the same word.

“Yeah crazy” you half chuckled and removed your burgundy coat, making your way over to sign in the shift card.

All you knew about Dejun was that he finished his masters and was offered a lecture position at the university but decided to take up this job instead. He was very reserved and once told you that he craved the utter peacefulness of the restricted area, where he was usually either on his own or with you.

“I’m halfway on my thesis now” you said casually as you started fixing the binding of a physics book from the 70s.

“Oh?” Dejun raised his eyebrow and pulled out a chair next to you to tend to his own book repair, “I’m sure you’re glad it’s almost over right?”

You squinted your eyes and sighed, burying your head in your hands as that familiar migraine began to set in. “I’m....stuck” you groaned and peered up at Dejun, “I decided to dissect the romance genre of literature and honestly most of it is hot garbage.”

Dejun let out a laugh and you admired how his dark eyebrows knitted together, making his face look quite animated.

“What books have you studied if you don’t mind me asking ?” Dejun asked, his curious eyes met with yours as he shifted closer in his chair.

“Everything from Shakespeare to Nicolas Sparks, I just hate them all” you pouted and slumped back in your chair, moving the half bound book aside,

“Don’t get me wrong, I chose romance because I love it you know ? I just don’t think that those ‘classics’ do it any justice.”

Dejun nodded at your words and shrugged, “I agree with you, not a fan of that forbidden romance and rich girl poor man stuff either.”

“Right ?” Your eyes lit up and Dejun grinned at your passionate attitude. He’d always found you cute. Every so often he had the chance to work with you on a shift we’re always his best days. He’d listen to you rant about your professors, the music you hated on the radio, or the fact that someone stole your favourite parking spot.

“So....” Dejun folded his arms, “how would you change it ?”

“Change it?” You quirked a brow.

“What’s your perfect romance troupe ?” Dejun smiled softly and his soft brown eyes drew you in and made you feel warm, safe.

“Well for starters I think intimacy should come first and then the characters learn how to love each other as they develop their relationship” you explained, getting up from your chair and began pacing the small room,

“I don’t mind the cliche of they grab the same book or vinyl, I just prefer that instead of 7 chapters of them thinking about that moment they just take the leap right there.”

Dejun pondered on your words for a bit and also got to his feet, leaning against the table as he watched you pace back and forth.

“Would it work for people who somewhat knew each other before hand though ? A friend ? A colleague ?” Dejun quizzed and you nodded quickly,

“Yeah if there’s no prior feelings or hookups then why not ?”

“I guess we can’t test it then since we like each other huh ?” Dejun smirked returning to his seat innocently as you stopped abruptly and quickly tried to process what he had just said.

“I....we...don’t like each other ?” You stammered while ignoring the fact that your heart was racing against your chest.

Dejun chuckled as he carefully inspected one of the pages of his book, “the funny part is that you’re practically experiencing your ideal romance troupe and contradicting yourself by not owning up to the fact that we do in fact...like each other.”

Your mind was racing on every evening that you’ve spent with Dejun up until today. First day it’s true you both did a double take on each other and you found him extremely attractive. Day seven the two of you reached for the only hard cover copy left of Pride and Prejudice and spent the whole night critiquing the book until you lost track of time. Day seventeen you were packing books on the top shelf and as you descended down the steel steps you lost your balance and fell right into his arms.

You were literally living a goddamn romance troupe without even knowing it.

“By your words y/n, we need to skip a few steps now shouldn’t we ?” Dejuns eyes were still on his book, but he knew damn well that your eyes were on him.

“You’re right Dejun” you finally said and folded your arms across your chest.

Dejun turned his head to face you and narrowed his eyes, “I’m supposed to be the one making the move ? What happened to a change of scenery ? Uh women empowerment?”

You grabbed his hand and headed to the back of the room where the roof slightly slanted and the window panels were covered with water droplets as the night sky drew in. You neatened your blue plaid skirt and leaned against the old wood of a work station desk. Dejun cocked his head as you bit down on your lip, not knowing how to proceed to the next step.

“Why here ?” Dejun raised an eyebrow, removing his glasses and tucked them in the top pocket of his white buttoned down.

“I don’t know the setting is....pretty, also when we first met you were sitting at this desk reading the last book a literature master student would be reading” you stifled a laughter.

“Hey Harry Potter is my childhood” Dejun groaned, cutely rolling his eyes, something he did quite often and you would pester him to the point of seeing that reaction.

“Dejun,” you placed your hand on his cheek and his attention was focused on you, those soft brown eyes bore into yours as he took a step closer.

You felt the butterflies in your stomach as he softly wrapped his hand around the small of your back and placed the other on the back of your head. You finally leaned in and he did the same meeting your lips, for the first time and sighed. The kiss was soft, the two you just melted in the instant connection, basking in the feeling before continuing to deepen the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer until your bodies were pressed against each other, fitting each other’s silhouettes perfectly. Dejun slipped his hands down to your thighs and picked you up and placed you on the desk, not breaking the kiss as he slipped in between your legs.

“I’m afraid I’m going to want more than this” you sighed into the kiss, unable to remove your hands from his toned body as you felt the closeness of him between your legs making you feel aroused.

“Come back to my place” Dejun whispered as he began attacking your neck with kisses and played with the hem of your skirt.

You can’t remember if you said yes or just nodded but you were now in Dejuns car on his way to his place. You enjoyed the passionate kiss he shared with you at the stop street and the occasional squeeze of your thigh when he would make turn into a new road.

The rain had begun pelting down and thankfully you were already pulling into his apartment lot before it became really hazy. Dejun turned to his backseat and realized he had left his umbrella back at the library and sighed,

“Running hand in hand in the pouring rain troupe ?” He held out his hand and you chuckled, “always been on my bucket list anyway.”

The two of you ran for about half a minute in the pouring rain but it was enough to completely drench you from your head down to your shoes. Dejun quickly punched in the code of his door and pulled you inside, already covering you in kisses as his blonde hair stuck to his forehead.

It was one item of clothing after another as the trail of clothes led down to his bedroom, where he had you in just your lacy nude coloured two piece set while he was slowly ridding himself of his pants.

You fell into his bed as you watched him slowly pull his leather belt from its hoops and his black slacks finally fell to the ground,

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met you know that ?” Dejun groaned as his eyes scanned over your body and he hovered over you.

“I could say the same about you Xiao Dejun” you mused and pulled him in for another hot passionate kiss. His warm body settled on yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting him closer even though it wasn’t even possible at this point.

Dejun unclipped your bra and moved his lips down to your breasts, squeezing one in his hand while licking and nipping at the other. You arched your back wanting more but also not wanting to rush him.

“Really want this to last much longer but I’m at my wits end right now” you moaned and Dejun chuckled as he peppered kisses all the way back up to your mouth.

“We have tonight, tomorrow, the next day and the day after that” he smirked against your lips before tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

Distracted by the stinging sensation from your lip you shivered at Dejuns icy fingers that was now hooked in the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down.

He watched as you squirmed beneath him. Watched how your eyes closed and how you sucked in your bottom lip, awaiting his next move.

You mewled when you felt the cool air hit your arousal and Dejun rubbed slow circles on your clit before pushing two fingers inside you, making you moan his name for the first time that night.

His fingers moved slowly but roughly while his lips softly pecked your hips, abdomen and the very top of your mound.

He was so gentle with you but his movements were still dominating, the mixture was absolutely intoxicating. You pulled him up missing the taste of his lips and before pressing his mouth on yours he caressed your cheek,

“Let me know if it’s too much okay?” He whispered against your lips and you nodded not knowing what you were in for.

Dejun locked your arms above your head and used his free hand to remove his boxers before entering you, already finding a rhythm to his thrusts. You threw your head back and moaned his name yet again as he slammed in and out of you, his grunts and your whimpers filling the bedroom.

His hand stayed locked on your wrists as he used his other hand to knead your breast, giving you multiple sensations at once. You almost hated the fact that you were close to your peak and it hadn’t been more than five minutes of him inside you.

“God I really don’t wanna cum right now” you whined as he still pounded mercilessly inside you.

“Good thing I’m not gonna let you” Dejun murmured and just as you thought your orgasm had reached, he pulled out of you and rolled onto his back,

“Get on top.”

You listened to his instructions but before sitting back on his member you gave him a few pumps, finally able to see him squirm under your touch this time round. Dejun gave you a small smack on your butt, and you finally abided to his request and sat on top of him, the new position already bringing you back to where you started.

Dejun sat up to meet your thrusts as you rode him, and you found your hand tangled in his messy locks as the two of you practically screwed the hell out of each other. The kiss this time was filled with lust, filled with lip biting and exchanging of saliva as you felt your orgasm fast approaching and noticed Dejun’s pace was slowing down too,

“cum for me baby” Dejun mused as he used the last of energy to give you a few hard thrusts until you finally came undone and he followed quickly after.

It took about two minutes of trying to catch your breath before you finally rolled on the bed next to him and wiped the beads of sweat from your forehead.

“Yeah this...this was definitely missing in some of those novels” you turned to Dejun who had a smile spread across his face.

He pulled the covers over your bodies and pressed his lips to your forehead and cheek,

“Should we write our own novel then ?”

“Yeah, yeah we should” you smiled, closing your eyes feeling at peace as his warmness enveloped you.

[seiyasabi]

Baby Fever

(Here’s a Risotto x Female Reader x Melone  fic. I typically don’t write anything besides dark content lol, so sorry @risottosplug if this sucks ｡ﾟ(｡ﾉωヽ｡)ﾟ｡ Anywyas, happy b-day, queen :)) 

CW: Sex (ahaha), creampie!, DP!, Dom Daddy Ris, Papa Melone, light degradation!, breeding kink!, kinda pillow princess reader?, fucked dumb lol!, etc. )

“Can you take me farther down your throat, Princess?” Risotto’s deep voice echoes throughout your master bedroom, an open hand petting your head. Whining, you nod, trying to take more of his fat cock down your throat. Your other lover is currently lapping at you quivering pussy like a dog, making it harder for you to choke him down, because of your moaning and panting. His precum helps slick your throat, luckily only having a mild taste. 

He chuckles down at your attempts, heart warming at your cute expression and actions, “I know you can do it, pretty girl. You’re my pretty, little slut, such a good girl.” 

His words of praise make you work even harder, completely relaxing your throat, trying to ignore your white haired lover and his sinful ministration. 

Melone starts to lick and suck like a madman, trying to draw a reaction from you. 

Your red eyed lover ‘tuts’ at his action, “Don't be a brat, Melone. Keep acting like that, and the only thing our Princess will call you is ‘Pig,’ Not ‘Papa.’” 

He detaches his mouth from your drooling pussy, a pleading look on his face, “Don’t be like that, Daddy. I want to breed her pussy, too!” 

Risotto laughs at him, before dragging him up by his hair, and claiming his lips with his own. They messily make out over your form, tongues practically shoved down each other’s throats. Ris uses his hand on your head to force you up and down his length, causing you to choke and drool around him messily. 

Moving away from Melone with a smirk, he licks his lips tantalisingly, your teary eyes looking up at him in wonder, before he speaks, “Just wanted to taste our pretty girl on our pretty boy’s lips. You both taste wonderful.” 

Releasing his grip from your head, he allows you to remove yourself from his cock. Strings of drool connect you to his thick prick, as you take in deep breaths you were previously deprived of. 

“You did so Good, (First Name),” He kisses you tenderly on your puffy lips, “Are you ready for us to reward you?” 

You nod, a bright smile appearing on your face, “Yes please, Daddy! I want you and Papa to give me a baby!” 

At your words, his grip on the purple boxer clad man tightens, making him cry out in pleasure, “Your wish is our command, Princess,” He slams his lips onto yours once more, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth-which you submissively begin to suck. 

Risotto releases Melone in an instant, allowing him to come up behind you, and grope your ass and tits. The purple haired man leaves open mouthed kisses up and down your throat, sucking love bites onto your most sensitive spots, triggering keens to echo through your chest. 

One of the white haired man’s hands slide down to your pussy, ghosting over your clit, before stuffing three fingers into your tight, wet walls. You disconnect your lips to throw your head back in pleasure, effectively pushing yourself against Melone’s muscular chest. 

The purple haired man pinches and twists your nipples, relishing the way you gasp at both men’s ministrations, “You’re so precious, (First Name). Always so good for us,” Ris’ thumb rubs circles on your puffy clit, drawing especially loud moans from your mouth. 

“Daddy, Papa! I need you inside of me,” Risotto lightly pinches your clit, reminding you of your manners, “Please!” 

Both men shoot each other a pleased grin, before nodding in agreement, “If that’s what you want-” Melone begins. 

“-Then you shall receive,” Ris finishes, before the banged man pushes your body onto your more dominant counterpart. You hover over his hard cock, his one hand still playing with your dripping pussy, “Are you sure you don’t want Daddy to prepare you more?” He asks, suddenly serious. 

You shake your head, “No, Daddy, I like the stretch!” He nods, kissing you on your glossy lips, before removing his fingers from inside of you, and spreading your pussy lips with slick fingers. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” He nudges his cockhead into your hole, slowly forcing his fat dick into your gummy pussy. Your mouth falls open at the feeling, although you knew it was coming. 

It takes a few moments for him to bottom out, but when he does, the head of his cock nudges your cervix. A small bulge is seen through your tummy, causing Melone to push down on it. Moaning, you place your own hand on top of his. 

“Look what you’re doing to our sweet angel,” He coos gently, smirking up at the red-eyed man, “It’s a shame we’re going to ruin your pretty cunny, I’ve always loved how tiny it was.” 

At his words, you feel the slick head of his cock at your stretched opening, lightly pushing against Risotto’s. Melone’s cock is a bit skinnier, but a little longer than his counterpart. A flurry of light kisses are placed on your right shoulder, as the purple haired man hooks his arms under your thighs, “Is it okay if I come in, too? It wouldn’t be fair if Ris went first- the baby would only truly have the odds of being his,” You can practically hear him pout. 

Looking up at your more reserved lover, you see his serious look. Smiling up at him gently, You nod your head yes, “Yes, Papa, I’d like that very much.” 

There’s a moment of silence, as your more perverted lover starts to push his way inside of your already stuffed pussy. Mouth falling open at the feeling, a high pitched whine escapes your throat. Your white haired lover starts to circle your clit with his middle finger, trying to make it easier for you to take Melone’s long cock. 

You can hear your purple haired lover moan into your shoulder, relishing the feeling of your tight, wet cunny, along with the veins of Ris’ cock rubbing against the underside of his own. His prick slides in with a little resistance, before bumping into your cervix; he’s not fully inside of you, but your hot juices dripping down onto him is enough to sate him. 

Your chest heaves with deep breaths, as you try to stop yourself from clamping down as hard as you can. Both Stand users have a hard time not cumming there and then. 

“Fuck- you’re so tight,” Risoto muses, still playing with your puffy clit, “Are you ready, Pretty Girl? Want your Daddy and Papa to breed you full?” You fully lean back against Melone, a bleary eyed look on your pretty face. 

“Yes, please! I need you to give me a baby!” Hearing this, both men set to work. With the same fast pace, both men start to fuck up into your crammed cunny. 

Melone’s own hand finds its way to your clit, rubbing it with three slender fingers. He applies more pressure than your other lover, trying to milk you of an orgasm before he cums, “Come on, Precious, milk our cocks of our milk,” Your eyes roll back, as your tongue lolling out of your mouth in pleasure. 

“Please, please!” Your hips roll, trying to meet their brutal thrusts. Melone’s cock helps Risotto’s rub harshly against your g-spot, causing your spread thighs to shake. More moans and whines escape your throat, as you clamp down on them, and cum. 

Your walls knead them for everything they have, causing Ris to grunt with his entire chest, and Melone to practically scream. Both men simultaneously release, adding their own milk to your gushing release. Rivulets of all three of your cum drip down their cocks and down your thighs, splattering onto your black silk sheets. 

Both men watch in awe as you continue to gush, Melone having not stopped his fingers from rubbing your sensitive clit. Shameless noises escape your gaping mouth, as you try to grab the purple haired man’s wrist, “Pa-Papa, ‘m too sensitive!” 

Your words cause them both to grow hard almost immediately, a sinister smirk on both of their faces, “That’s alright, My Love. By the end of tonight, your stupid mind will be mush with pleasure! Doesn’t that sound nice?” Melone’s voice is light, yet lustful, as he starts to pinch at your clit, causing your hips to jolt and your pussy to spasm. More pitiful whines and keens come from your open mouth, which Risotto fills with two of his fingers. He holds your tongue in between the phalanges, loving how you drool and such them. 

“You want a baby, don’t you, Princess?” You nod your head dumbly, eyes unfocused, “Well, we have to fuck your stretched pussy until you’re round with our seed,” He moves his face right in front of yours, relishing your cute, fucked out look, “Tonight is going to be a long night.” 

They start to move their hips once more, bouncing your pliant form up and down, your conjoined juices flying onto everything around you. Your loud voice bounces off of your pristine walls, yet neither of them stop their breakneck pace. 

They doubt that you’ll be able to walk for the next week. 

[komotionlessqueenmm]

One man's trash, is another man's treasure.

(2-4)

Short story # 6

2,442 - Words

Fandom - House of Wax (2005)

Pairing - Bo Sinclair X Reader

Summary - The reader finds herself & her 4 month old son stranded in Ambrose. While Bo finds himself enamored with the woman, wanting nothing more than to protect and provide for the two of them.

Warnings - Some dark topics, talk of abusive relationships, eventual blood & death, eventual smut. (I'm not sure what else tbh)

Notes - Italics means the reader is singing.

Pt. 1 ~ Pt. 2 ~ Pt. 3 ~ Pt. 4

----

"You go relax in the living room while I call my brother, I'll only be a minute." Bo instructed as they walked into his house. "Okay." (Y/n) smiled as she cradled Von in her arms, having left his stroller on the porch. Bo walked into the kitchen, calling his brother to pick up (Y/n)'s jeep. While (Y/n) walked into the living room, idly scanning the pictures hanging on the walls. (Y/n) sat down on the couch with a content sigh, gently patting Von's butt in an attempt to keep the baby asleep. Von's soft breathing and the gentle patting of (Y/n)'s hand were the only sounds in the room, that is until Bo walked back into the room. "He should be here within the next hour, I'm gonna go change outta this suit real quick." Bo explained pointing behind him to the stairs, already tugging at his tie. "Okay." (Y/n) smiled with a nod of her head, turning her attention back to Von when Bo started walking upstairs.

A short five minutes passed before Bo came back down the stairs, changed from his suit, to a mechanics jumpsuit. "So can I ask? What was with the suit?" (Y/n) wondered aloud, as Bo walked into the living room, taking a seat in a recliner he began slipping on his boots. "I was at a funeral." Bo explained as he tied his laces. "Oh I'm sorry for your loss." (Y/n) gave her condolences. "Thank you." Bo smiled softly. "It's getting pretty late, is there somewhere in town I could stay?" (Y/n) asked as she looked out the window, the sun low in the sky. "You can stay here if you'd like." Bo offered. "Oh you're too kind, but I don't want to be a burden." (Y/n) genuinely hated feeling like a burden on people. "Nonsense I've got plenty of room, and the extra company would be nice." Bo insisted, making (Y/n) smile softly. "Alright... Would it be alright if I got a shower real quick? Sitting out in the suns got me all sweaty and gross." Bo chuckled alongside her, nodding his head. "Of course, I'll show ya to the spare bedroom." Bo rose from his chair, leading (Y/n) upstairs and to the right. "Here ya go, there's a small bathroom attached." He pointed to the bathroom door after escorting (Y/n) inside. "Thank you, I shouldn't be to long." (Y/n) smiled as she sat the diaper bag onto the small bed, gently laying Von down a moment later. "I'll wait for ya down in the living room." Bo hummed as he closed the door, leaving (Y/n) be.

When the warm water hit (Y/n)'s back she sighed in content, the sore muscles of her back relaxing under the heat. Allowing herself a moment to soak up the warmth, (Y/n) closed her eyes and hummed softly under her breath. As if with the flip of a switch however, (Y/n)'s eyes snapped open and she quickly set to work cleaning herself up. However just as she was rising off, Von began crying from the bedroom. In an instant (Y/n) cut off the water and wrapped a towel around her body, droplets of water still rolling down her legs as she exited the bathroom. "See there's mama." Bo cooed at Von, cradling the fussing baby in his arms. "I hope I didn't overstep my boundaries, I was just down the hall when he started crying, and I wanted to make sure he was okay." Bo explained as he stood from the bed, handing Von over to (Y/n). "No no it's alright, I appreciate it actually." (Y/n) shook her head with a small smile. "He's just fussy because he hasn't eaten yet, I didn't want to wake him earlier." (Y/n) sat on the edge of the bed, pulling down part of her towel to allow Von to feed. "Oh I understand completely, I get pretty grumpy when I'm hungry to." Bo joked turning his attention to the floor, not wanting to make (Y/n) uncomfortable by accidentally staring. "Don't we all." (Y/n) chuckled softly.

"I was getting this for the little guy when he started crying." Bo changed the subject, allowing himself a moment to distract himself. "Oh that's so cute!" (Y/n) gushed at the sight of the antic cradle Bo had brought into the room. "I almost forgot about it, it's an old family cradle, been passed down several generations." Bo explained as he laid a clean blanket inside it. "Thank you Bo, you've been so kind to me, I don't think I could thank you enough." (Y/n)'s eyes became a little glossy, a smile spread across her lips. "It's my pleasure, but it ain't nothing to cry over." Bo knelt in front of (Y/n) rubbing away the stray tear that escaped her eye. "Oh I know, it's such a silly thing to cry over. It's just the passed month has been so hard, and you and Lester have been so sweet to me. It's silly I know, but I can't help it." (Y/n) chuckled through her tears, sniffling softly. "You're all on your own aren't ya?" Bo asked with a small frown, the frown deepening when (Y/n) nodded her head. "Where's the father?" Bo asked. "It's kinda a long story." (Y/n) wiped away her tears with a bitter chuckle. "Is he dead, or a deadbeat?" Bo asked bluntly. "A deadbeat of the worst kind." (Y/n) sighed. "That's a shame." Bo shook his head, raising from his kneeled position. "I'll leave ya be." He muttered softly. "I'll be waiting in the living room when you're done up here." Bo added as he exited the room, leaving (Y/n) to finish feeding Von, and allowing her to change in some privacy.

Having changed into the sweats and a tank top, (Y/n) always kept in the diaper bag. (Y/n) carried Von downstairs, smiling at Bo when she entered the living room. "Ready to go back to the garage?" Bo asked as he stood from the couch. "We're as ready as we'll ever be." (Y/n) hummed, following Bo when he went to the front door. "(Y/n)." Bo called out to her as she strapped Von into the stroller. "Yes Bo?" She tilted her head a little, having turned her attention to him. "I'm sorry about asking about Von's father, that wasn't very polite." Bo rubbed the back of his neck, feeling guilty for bringing up such a touchy subject. "It's okay Bo, you were only curious." (Y/n) assured him with a smile. "I don't really mind talking about it, but if someone comes around asking about me, I'd really appreciate it if you forgot about me." She admitted feeling just at ease around Bo as she had around Lester. "He's that bad huh?" Bo wondered aloud with a frown. "Worse." (Y/n) swallowed thickly, dread pooling within her belly. "Well as long as you're here, I won't let anything happen to you." Bo promised, easing (Y/n)'s worry.

"Alrighty lets have a look." Bo mused as they entered the garage, popping the hood to the jeep. "Your brother didn't stick around huh?" (Y/n) stated the obvious as she looked around the garage. "He's not much of a people person, due to a birth defect he's suffering from." Bo explained as he worked. "Oh." (Y/n) felt a bit guilty. "Well he likes people, but people don't really like him much. So he avoids them." Bo shrugged casually. "People always fear what they don't understand." (Y/n) murmured without much thought, unknowingly peaking Bo's interest even more. "He'd like you." Bo mused with a small smile, despite not having the best relationship with his brother, Bo still cared for him. "You think so?" (Y/n) smiled at the thought. "Yeah, what's not to like?" Bo winked at her, chuckling when she ducked her head to hide her blush.

"Hold on..." Bo muttered under his breath, as he checked the oil. "I thought you said you changed the oil last week." Bo frowned in confusion. "I did." (Y/n) mirrored his confusion. "It's bone dry." Bo informed her, moving further under the hood to get a better look at the oil reserve. "I think I see the problem." Bo moved to grab a flashlight, looking to where he suspected the problem was. "What is it?" (Y/n) asked as she walked over to peer at the engine. "It looks like someone put a hole in the bottom of the reserve, the oil just leaked out over time." Bo explained, his assessment making (Y/n) worry again. "Trent my ex... It had to be him." (Y/n)'s voice cracked as the panic set in. "Hey hey hey don't worry about it, as long as you're here you're safe, I won't let him get to you." Bo promised as he wiped his hands with a shop rag, pulling (Y/n) into a comforting hug after he deemed his hands clean. "He tried to kill me Bo, when he found out I was pregnant he attacked me and tried to kill me." (Y/n) wept into his chest. "I won't let him near you." Bo growled protectively, holding her just a little tighter. "I've been running from him for the past month, I just know he's gonna try finding me." (Y/n) shook in Bo's arms, raked with fear. "He won't find you." Bo promised as he pulled her back to look into her eyes, wiping away her tears. "You are safe here." Bo emphasized each word, smiling at her softly when she stopped shaking. "Thank you." (Y/n) sniffled with a smile, leaning up she kissed Bo's cheek, then turned her attention back to Von, smiling down at the sight of him sleeping soundly. "How about we leave this until tomorrow morning?" Bo pointed to the jeep, a dopey grin on his face from the kiss. "Let's go eat some dinner and relax for a bit." He suggested casually. "That sounds like a good idea." (Y/n) nodded her head in agreement, giggling when her stomach grumbled at the mention of food.

"Let me help." (Y/n) insisted as she joined Bo in the kitchen. "I'd appreciate the help." Bo smiled as he gathered everything they'd need to cook a nice hardy meal. "Well it is the least I can do, after all you've done for me and Von." (Y/n) smiled as she set to work, the pair working alongside eachother with natural ease. "(Y/n)." Bo called out softly after a few minutes, smiling when (Y/n) hummed in response. "I just wanted to say... You're a real good mother." Bo admitted, making (Y/n) drop what she was holding. "You really mean that?" She asked with wide eyes. "Of course." Bo nodded his head, being perfectly honest with her. "Thank you, you don't know how much that means to me." (Y/n)'s eyes were bright with pure joy, making Bo's heart melt a little. They continued to work in a comfortable silence, nearly finishing their task before Bo struck up conversation again. "So what do you do for a living?" He asked casually. "I'm an author actually." (Y/n) mused. "Anything I might read?" Bo asked with genuine curiosity. "Only if you enjoy horror stories, I'm looking to be the next H. P. Lovecraft." (Y/n) beamed with pride, her words making Bo chuckle. "I think I'd enjoy reading your work." Bo admitted, making (Y/n) beam even brighter.

--

The following morning (Y/n) and Bo went back to the garage bright and early. "You don't have to sit around down here with me you know." Bo pointed out to (Y/n) who had perched herself upon the gas stations counter. "I know, but I thought you could use the company." (Y/n) mused as she rocked Von's stroller back and forth with her foot, her journal on her lap. "I'll admit the company is nice, but the view is even better." Bo flirted with a wink, making (Y/n) giggle softly. "I have to agree, the view is very nice." (Y/n) quipped right back with a cheeky grin, her words making Bo laugh.

Subconsciously as she wrote (Y/n) began humming a melody, which eventually led to her singing softly. "You are what you are. I don't matter to anyone. But Hollywood legends. Will never grow old. And all of what's hidden. Well, it will never grow cold." Bo stilled in what he was doing, focusing on (Y/n). "But I lost myself when I lost you. But I still got jazz. When I've got those blues. And I lost myself when I lost you. And I still get trashed, darling. When I hear your tunes." (Y/n) relaxed a little, singing a little louder. "But you are who you are. I won't change you for anything. For when you are crazy. I'll let you be bad. I'll never dare change thee. To what you are not." Bo moved to lean against the doorway leading into the gas station, watching (Y/n) with a pleasant grin. "But I lost myself when I lost you. But I still got jazz. When I've got those blues. I lost myself and I lost you too. And I still get trashed, baby. When I hear your tunes." (Y/n) continued writing away, almost in a daze. "I put the radio on. Hold you tight in my mind. Isn't strange that. You're not here with me. But I know the light's on in the television. Trying to transmit, can you hear me. Ground control to Major Tom. Can you hear me all night long. Ground control to Major Tom." Von stirred a little in his sleep, but remained asleep. "Well I lost myself when I lost you. But I still got jazz when I've got the blues. I lost myself and I lost you too. And I still get trashed, honey. When I hear your tunes." (Y/n) smiled to herself as she hummed the melody out. "Are you sure you don't sing professionally?" Bo asked when she finished humming. "I'm sure." (Y/n) chuckled, flattered by his words. "Maybe you should." He winked before turning his attention back to her car, his words making (Y/n)'s heart swoon.

----

Woof Bo is really getting out of character...

Oh well! That's the beauty of fanfiction.

Anyways part two is complete!

Let me know what you think. （＾_＾）

PS the song (Y/n) was singing is Terrence Loves You by Lana Del Rey.

[americxn]

Hi, I have a request 🤗

Colin Zabel and reader like she’s suspect of a crime but they have a night together before and They are shocked when found each other again.

She’s younger than him, I don’t know if you already watched Pretty Little Liars but if you did. It’s like when Aria meet Ezra

❤️



Suspect (Colin x Reader)

a/n: i watched pll ageees ago and can’t really remember anything about it so I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted. also, once again, I have no clue about any judicial processes or anything like that so lets just use our imagination and pretend that this is accurate.

wordcount: 1.7k warnings: slight mention of anxiety

Your stomach had long since been reduced to a tight knot of deep-rooted nerves, your skin tight dress doing nothing to quell the almost nauseating apprehension that had your mouth completely dry and your fingers trembling. You swallowed in a vain attempt to rehydrate your mouth as your taxi pulled up in front of the newly opened restaurant in the main quarter of town. Checking your phone, you swiped onto Colin’s name, checking for the fifth time that hour that you had the right place and time. You paid, stalling slightly by wishing the driver a pleasant night before stepping into the cool air, the street lamps bright overhead. The warmth of the restaurant was welcome on your bare legs as you stepped through the front door, the smile of the waiting on staff situated by the small front desk even warmer as they asked if you had a reservation. You nodded, clearing your throat and giving Colin’s name, unsure as to whether he was already here or not. He was, and your nerves were dulled just a fraction as he spotted you being lead to the table, his smile the warmest of them all as he stood and brought you into a tight embrace.

He pulled out your chair for you, coaxing a small smile to your face, before maneuvering around the table and falling into his own seat across from you. You glanced at him, a furry of butterflies replacing the sickening nerves that had graced your stomach mere moments before, the undeniable attractiveness of his kind features a pleasant surprise; for your first time meeting, you were unsure how true to reality the pictures on his tinder profile would be and here he was, proving that your initial attraction to his pictures was more than justified.  “Hi.” He said simply, his eyes alight with excitement as he beheld you in slight disbelief; he had honestly not expected you to show, and your presence was both relieving and enthralling as he took in your face, half shadowed in the dim light of the quiet corner of the restaurant you had been allocated. “Hi.” You responded, offering him a warm smile before introducing yourself, delving into the conversation to combat the awkwardness that threatened to stunt your meeting. Colin indulged in your conversation too, the small space between you warming, the flowing exchange being interrupted only when a waitress came to ask for your food and drink orders. The service was quick, and soon you were completely at ease in Colin’s presence, the two of you musing about the high quality of the food and stealing sips of each others wine. “So, you said that you did detective work?” You questioned when your previous topic of conversation ran dry. “Yeah,” he began, taking a deep drink of his wine before indulging in your question. “I have a big case starting tomorrow, I’m a little nervous.” He admitted with a vulnerable smile. “Why?” You question, cocking your head slightly and taking a bite of your food. He paused, a mouthful of food poised on his fork as he carefully considered your question. “Well, we only have one suspect. And I usually specialise in homicide or missing person cases. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this but it’s a very complex, on running fraud case.” You paused, swallowing your food and flicking you eyes down at you partly cleared plate, your earlier nerves returning with twice as much vigour. “Oh right.” You nodded, your confidence and tone wavering. He regarded you with interest at your sudden evident change in demeanor, his tongue working within the confines of his closed mouth to clear the food from his teeth. You cleared your throat, attempting to shift the change in mood and topic of conversation with it. Colin’s brow creased gently as you kept your gaze averted from his, bringing another mouthful of food up to your lips as he surveyed you. He allowed you to change the conversation, the two of you relaxing as the previous amiable exchange returned, the two of you clearing your plates and finishing off your shared bottle of wine, talking and laughing softly together. Your mood fell once more when your plates were cleared, your shoulders curving inwards; you knew what had to happen next. After what Colin had just revealed to you, and the actions to which you had stooped to in the past year, you knew what you had to do when he offered you a lopsided smile, his accompanying words painfully tempting: “I’m not ready to leave yet. Dessert?” You exhaled slowly, your smile turning sad. Reaching into your clutch, Colin’s dark eyes fell dull as you pulled out a twenty dollar bill, chucking it on the table and thanking him before standing to leave. “Wait!” Colin exclaimed, a slight pleading tone entering his voice. He lurched to his feet, reaching out and taking hold of your wrist. You turned, the dejected look on his face cracking your heart in two. “I’m sorry,” he blurted, “I didn’t realise that you weren’t having a good time.” “No.” You said hurriedly, your head shaking fervently. “No. Colin, I’ve had an amazing night.” You admitted, Colin’s eyes flashing with hope. The next words were horribly painful to form, your eyes having to drop to the floor in order to let the words out. “I just don’t see this working.” You admitted to his feet, pulling your wrist gently from his grasp. “Thank you. I’m sorry.” The words were whispered, your eyes flicking to his as you offered him a parting smile before turning, forcing the tears that formed in your eyes to remain hidden as you pulled out your phone to book a taxi back home. Colin watched you go, utterly confused as his eyes remained trained on your back until you disappeared out the front door, his arm falling to hang limp at his side. 

For the second time that week, your stomach was infested with nerves, your chest tight and leg bouncing in the empty waiting room, your carefully crafted alibi swirling around and around in your head. Your fingers shook as you ran them over your face, every muscle in your body tightening to the point of pain when you heard a door open and close down the hallway, the sound echoing through the quiet of the empty corridor to your ears. Exhaling deeply, you fortified your mind, reminding yourself what was about to happen and how you were going to deal with it.  “Y/n?” Your head jerked up in the direction of the voice. The kindly receptionist that had directed you to the waiting room twenty minutes earlier offered you an easy smile, beckoning you. “He’s ready for you now.” You nodded, swallowing and wincing when the dry walls of your throat rubbed together. You stood and took the directions the reception provided you with to the door at the bottom of the short hallway to the right, installing feigned confidence in your steps and trying to shake the anxious anticipation racking your body. You knocked on the door before pushing it open and stepping inside, your gaze dropping to the small table at the centre of the room, a neat stack of papers sitting before a painfully familiar man. The two of you froze in unison, the dread swirling in your gut only worsening as Colin’s mouth formed a thin line, his elbows braced on the edge of the table and his hands clasped together beneath his chin. Your mouth parted with the icy surprise that doused the entirety of your being. “Come in.” He motioned to the seat opposite him, his tone tense and his eyes weary as they tracked your journey from the door to the chair he indicated to with a nod of his head. You perched on the chair, averting your gaze to instead stare at the hands you had clasped together in your lap. “It all made sense when I read your file this morning.” Was all he said, not allowing any indication to how he felt about having to question you enter his tone, blocking out the memory of how you had left him at the restaurant with no warning and becoming completely professional. “I just have a few questions for you to answer and then you can leave.” At your silence, your eyes transfixed on your lap, he continued: “But based on the amount of evidence we have gathered against you, I don’t think that this will be our last meeting. And not in the way that I had hoped.” Remaining utterly silent, you nodded shallowly in acknowledgement of his tensely spoken words. “Do you submit to this questioning, yes or no?” He continued on a lengthy sigh. You rose your chin to look at him, muttering a reluctant “yes” and glancing back down at the clean surface of the table before you as you awaited his first question.  Your alibi was weak and Colin had torn through it in a matter of minutes, an utterly irritable demeanour settling over him as the questioning commenced, your responses becoming weaker and weaker until you finally gave in, asking Colin to repeat his previous questions and offering him the truthful answers.  By the end of your questioning, you sat low in your chair, your eyes settling on anything but the man sat before you, feeling completely and utterly dejected as the sound of Colin’s pen scribbling on various thin sheets of paper filled the small room. You forced your humiliated, guilt-fuelled tears to remain hidden within your tear ducts, your teeth clamping down hard on your lower lip when it threatened to quiver of its own accord. “Okay.” Colin sighed after several minutes of uncomfortable silence and meeting your teary eyes, his own gaze weary. “I need you to come with me for processing and then we’ll take it from there.” You didn’t bother asking what he meant but stood when he pushed himself to his feet and trailed him out of the door, not even able to watch Colin’s back as he lead you down the corridor, bracing yourself for whatever was to come next.

taglist: @kitwalker02 @three-eyed-snail @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove @undeadcortez @kitwalker64 @samsassinparvismagna @xmaximoffic @divineruler @liandav @tatesweaterweather @evanmybeloved @tatelangdonsupremacist @ikkleroniekins @ananad1 @shlutnutt

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Diplomatic Daemati Part 2

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): A Court of Thorns and Roses Series/Rhysand

Rating: PG/K+

Original Idea: @itscheybaby recommended doing more parts for this series and I had more ideas so we’re going for it. Part 1 Here

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) At 2,310 words this isn’t quite as long as the first one, but given I wrote 1,200 words per one shot for years, I’m apparently doing better lol

^^^^^

The week between the High Lords’ meeting and my first visit to the Night Court passed quickly. My soldier training was temporarily halted in lieu of diplomatic training. As well as Thesan giving me the rundown of what was known about the reclusive Night Court.

The day arrived for my departure, and I realized I didn’t know how I was supposed to get there. I could fly—but that would involve crossing the Day Court territory and would take more than all day. Hours longer than I could afford without angering Rhysand. Rhys, I guess. I didn’t have enough power to winnow, either, but I doubted Thesan would know where to drop me off; if he could even take me at all.

I mused over breakfast how I was supposed to get there when a crack of thunder almost made me drop my toast.

High Lord Rhysand stood in the mess hall otherwise empty of any legion soldiers besides officers, posture relaxed, hands in his pockets, tendrils of night wafting off of him. “Good morning, emissary,” he greeted casually. My fellow officers stared. “Ready to go?”

“Allow me to grab my bag,” I said, rising from my bench. He waved me off. Dismissive, casually aloof. I went to my officer’s quarters, grabbed my bag, and went back to the mess hall. Rhys held a hand out for me. “I’ve never winnowed before.” My trepidation made him smirk as I reached out and took his hand.

His grin was feline. “I’ll be gentle then.”

I doubted that, but didn’t dare say so out loud.

Winnowing was darkness and wind buffeting me from all sides. Pulling me apart and slamming me back together simultaneously. I clenched Rhys’ hand so tight my knuckles blanched.

Then it stopped. “Welcome to the Night Court,” Rhys remarked.

We were standing in a beautiful palace of moonstone. It reminded me of the sunstone of Thesan’s palace, but different—grand in a simple but elegant way. I found I liked the aesthetics of it better.

Rhys let go of my hand.

“Being daemati,” he began without preamble as I stared at the palace perched atop a mountain peak, “is about more than just reading the current thoughts of those around you. It’s not just speaking mind-to-mind or taking control of someone entirely.” He strode down the open-air hall to a glass table and sat. I took the seat opposite him at his indication and set down my bag.

“Being daemati,” he continued, “is having everything they are laid bare before you. Every memory, every secret, every muscle, under your control. You can alter their memories, stop their blood from flowing, shatter their minds to turn them into a living ghost. It’s a gift not to be taken lightly.” He lounged on his chair without a care in the world, but his eyes burned as he stared at me. “You understand?”

I nodded. “I understand.”

The High Lord seemed satisfied by my response. “Good. Then let’s get you settled in and then we can properly begin your training. Daemati lessons in the morning, diplomacy in the afternoon. You’ll be here for a week, and then you will return home for the time being. High Lord Thesan will be in touch discussing when you will return. When you’re alone in the Dawn Court, I suggest you practice what we work on here.”

I nodded again.

Rhys stood, I followed. He strode back the way we came down the hall.

“You’re allowed to fly, too, by the way, while you’re here. But please do not go farther than this peak and the ones adjacent. All the mountains in this range look the same and I do not have time to find you or send out a search party if you get lost.”

Reasonable. “Of course.”

“Thank you. Shall we get started?”

We made it to the back of the hall, where a large wall of marble with doors inset in it was waiting. I followed Rhys through one, down a flight of stairs, and into a beautiful guest bedroom. I stared around at the room, jaw gaping. “This… is not what I expected. No offense,” I said.

An amused smile appeared on his face. “No screaming, no torture chambers, no blatant debauchery?” he asked.

My ears and neck burned in shame. “Well… the Night Court has a… harsh reputation,” I admitted.

“It’s not an unwarranted one. But the wicked members of my court reside elsewhere. Deep beneath this mountain, actually. They’re not allowed up here. And you will not be interacting with them. Your business with me has nothing to do with them. So, you won’t be subjected to the worst the Night Court has to offer.”

“Thank the Mother,” I breathed. My wings drooped a bit with relief. Rhys smirked, crossing his arms across his ribs and leaning against the doorframe.

“Go ahead and unpack, if you wish. Then meet me upstairs in the hall.”

“Okay,” I said. Rhys slipped out of the guest room. I set my small leather rucksack next to the armoire. I hadn’t brought much in the way of clothing. A few semi-formal outfits, my ceremonial uniform, some sleep clothes, and that was pretty much it. There wasn’t much to unpack, so I didn’t bother. Just stared around the incredible room—including the pool-sized bathtub that allowed water to flow into thin air off the side of the mountain.

When I’d stared my fill, I went back upstairs to the open-air hall. Rhys was lounging in that chair at the table again. He must have known I was there, but he didn’t turn to acknowledge me.

I hadn’t made it halfway when claws slammed into my shields. Dark ones. Powerful ones. My shield held strong, but I felt it strain. I grunted.

“Huh,” Rhys mused. “For a self-taught daemati, you’ve got a pretty good shield.”

“Thank you,” I said, walking forward to retake my seat across from him.

His power slammed into my shields again, before I could reach him. Much stronger this time. My shield shattered before I could reinforce it.

Those claws dug into my mind. I wondered if they hurt non-daemati. They made me stagger, landing on one knee and definitely bruising my kneecap. Push me out, Rhys’ voice said in my head, so loud and so overwhelming that I put my hands over my ears in a futile attempt to block it out. Shove me out!

“How?” I demanded. Tears welled up in my eyes. The claws twisted—and the tears drained. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink. Everything was under Rhysand’s control.

He stood from the table and strode over to me. I couldn’t move my eyes to track his progress. His boots appeared in my line of sight and he crouched in front of me. A claw twisted and my eyes looked up to meet his. Out of my control.

“Shove me out of your head,” he said. Calm. Collected. Controlled.

How?! I pleaded internally. Everything was so dark—overshadowed by such immense power… it must have dwarfed even the other High Lords’ reserves…

Shove. Me. Out.

Darkness. His power was darkness.

I was a Peregryn soldier of the Dawn Court.

In my head, I clamped down my surging panic and released my own power. The streaks of dawn broke over his shroud. I sent each shaft of light to his claws. Pushing them out of my head, building my shield behind them. More rays of the rising sun pierced the clouds of night. With a final push, I hurled those claws away from me, slamming my shield back into place and reinforcing it. Once. Twice.

Control of my own body flooded back to me. I slumped, face-first, to the moonstone floor. Panting. Sweaty.

I heard a soft thud. Rhysand sat on the ground. “Not bad,” he remarked. “The light. Not a choice I would have thought of from you. I’m impressed—and, bear in mind, that’s not a compliment I give easily.”

Chest heaving, I pushed up to meet his eyes. He was sitting with his ankles crossed, long legs stretched out before him, arms braced on the floor behind him in an easy-going posture. “You don’t believe in starting slow, do you?” The demand came out as more of an exhausted plea—which I hated. I wasn’t weak. I was a soldier—an officer—not some downy fledgling. I was just new to this level of skill.

He shrugged. “I wasn’t taught slowly. Besides, I had no intention of doing you any harm. There was no real danger. But teaching you the most important skills right off the bat will give you greater advantages if you ever come across another daemati.”

My breathing finally slowed. I wiped my sweat off on my sleeve. My wings were still trembling. I flapped them half-heartedly to ease out the tension. Rhys’ eyes followed them.

“What… what did you see?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You said—” I cleared my throat. “You said every memory is laid bare before you, when you’re in someone else’s mind. What did you see?”

“I didn’t. This is a training exercise. Despite what the other courts are led to believe, I’m not heartless. I understand that as an officer in Thesan’s aerial legion, you probably know a few secrets of the court.”

I scoffed. “Bold of you to assume High Lord Thesan trusts me that much. Did you see me at the meeting last week? At the far end of his left-hand side? The lowest rank?”

“He trusts you enough to defend his life in a room full of the most powerful men in Prythian,” Rhysand pointed out.

My expression dropped. I’d never thought about it like that.

Rhysand laughed. “Did that just occur to you?”

I didn’t reply. Just pushed myself to my feet. I fluffed my feathers with a shake of my shoulders and shook my hands through my hair in an attempt to fix it up a little. Rhys stood in one smooth motion.

“Can we sit for the next part? That trip hurt my knee.” I gestured to the bruise forming on the bottom of my kneecap, exposed under the hem of my trousers.

“Sure.”

I preceded him to the table and sat down. The chair—I hadn’t paid it any mind before, due to being used to it in a Peregryn legion—but the chair was built to accommodate wings. I looked back at it, and then faced the front again. Rhysand sat opposite me. I pointed to the chair. “This is made for wings,” I said.

He nodded. “I have Illyrians in my lands, remember? Two of them are my closest counsel,” he said.

“I remember. I guess I just never considered… that you’d have chairs made for them here. Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Making assumptions. About this place. About your court in general. It’s rude.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. Assumptions and expectations are how we survive and prepare for the worst to do so.” He shrugged.

“You really didn’t look at any of my memories?”

“No. I will respect the terms of our business.”

“Thank you.”

“I will ask, too, that you do the same. When we get to that point in your training.”

“Of course,” I said. I definitely didn’t want to see what was inside his head. The wickedness of the Night Court’s reputation… any atrocities he’d caused or committed… I didn’t want details.

He inclined his head to me. “Thank you.” He looked out to the mountains surrounding us. “We may not get to that this week, though. We’ll see.”

I nodded.

“The next bit of your training we can discuss before demonstrating. They’re the two biggest rules of being daemati. The first is: if you delve into someone’s mind, keep your exit open so a fellow daemati doesn’t leave their shields down and slam them shut behind you, trapping you in their mind. You become their slave. No control over anything. Unable to get out.”

My wings shuddered as a chill went down my spine. Rhysand smirked slightly.

“Second rule: be prepared to see things you might not like and definitely don’t want to see. Unpleasant memories. Evidence of your father having an affair. Lives are messy and complicated. It’s part of being daemati.”

I nodded. “I know that part already,” I said.

The smile turned from amused to an understanding purse of the lips. “I know you do. Based on what you said at the meeting.”

His claws lashed at my shields again. They glinted harmlessly off. My reinforcements held. Rhysand nodded in approval. “Not bad.”

“The third rule, I’m guessing, is always be prepared for your mind to be attacked at any moment.”

“That’s optional, but yes.”

“So, if I may ask, my lord, what was with the droning at the meeting?”

“I sensed another daemati in the room. Magic brushing my shield, passing through the room against everyone else’s. I just couldn’t pinpoint who. So I sent out a wave to test who it was. You resisted for a long time, actually. Longer than I would have imagined. Then you screamed. Which startled me, actually. I didn’t know it was you, at first. But during the mingling afterward, I saw you alone. Everyone else was talking, but you were shaking. Your wings were trembling. I took a guess. Figured I’d wipe the encounter from your mind if I turned out to be wrong.” He smirked. “But I wasn’t.” There was the arrogance I recognized. I rolled my eyes. He chuckled. “Sorry. That was probably unpleasant.”

“Understatement,” I muttered.

Another laugh. Then he went quiet. “Shall we move on to the next demonstration? About leaving the way out open?”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “Yes. Let’s move on.”