#rap mon x reader

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

What are the imaginary scenarios your brain is coming up with after seeing this🌚🫣

[willyoucomemydear]

Bullets and Lotuses. (Ch.2)

Note: I hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. It might be dissapointing, that this chapter was not really centered around Namjoon, but the next chapters are mostly about him so, better give my sweeties here some attention! And please forgive me if it's a bit too short!

Haneul had just found her escape out of the meeting room, and strolled down the mansion's hallways toward the garden. She asked her father if she could leave, to have a breath of fresh air, since the rest of the discussions could be done without her. When he accepted, a concerned frown already replacing his firm exterior, worried that his daughter regreted her decision and was now throwed into an aimless mariage, she excused herself, sending a reassuring smile his way before disappearing.

Another pair of footsteps followed hers, she was aware, one hast and the other hesitant. A very familiar voice called for her attention:

-"Older Sister!"

She turned to face her seething brother and whimpering sister. Oh, how she wanted to hug them both.

-"What were you thinking back there?" Anyone could've mistaken Jimin's harsh tone for an enraged scolding, but she knew how far more desperate he was than he let on. He always was a kind boy, soft for his sisters, and has only grown fierce to protect them.

If someday, for any reason, they needed a man, they would have him, standing by their side, ready to fight off whoever or whatever bothered them.

This is why, when he saw Haneul offer herself for a person he only knew bad about, just for the benefit of her family, he was upset. Very upset.

-"I wasn't thinking." She grinned, unbothered. She wasn't lying, really.

-"I just felt like it was something i wanted to do." She finished, eyes closing as she chuckled at her siblings' bewildred looks.

Jimin sighed, not relaxed but less perturbed, after hearing her self-assurance about the situation.

His sister had forever been someone he looked up to. She was an imaginative spirit, always lighthearted, but her wit was unquestionable. It was as if she found every problem's solution in some dream she had. His frame slowly drooped when he realized that his sister wasn't as frail as he made her seem. They might have been part of a dangerous world, but she had handled herself, and her family, fairly well. All those past years.

His brief haze gave the girls time to share a look, mutely communicating.

He then suddenly recalled Haneul talking about promising Chaeyoung's hand in marriage to someone.

As if she read his mind, Haneul gently pulled her little sister by the arm, stepping away in a fast rythm, graciously avoiding his question as he shook his head in disbelief, slightly amused.

Both girls have been engulfed in a pregnant silence in the large garden's bench, no sounds heard other than the nervous tapping of Chaeyoung's foot. The flowery lake was reflecting their beautiful features, and Haneul mindlessly stared at her sister's nervous image through it. She knew her sister wanted to speak about something, and she also knew what that something was. She had been waiting for her to talk, but when she didn't, she covered the youngest's fingers with hers, willing to indirecly start the conversation for her:

-"Would you be my Maid of Honor, Chaeyoung?" She asked, knowing this would be her sister's breaking point. She scanned her face in the water, before locking eyes with her, pairs of hazel meeting.

-"Are you really doing this because of me?" Chaeyoung choked, fighting tears.

-"You gave yourself instead of me.." She mumbled.

-"Oh, my Rose." Haneul openned her arms, and her younger sister immediatly found refuge in her embrace. She felt wetness on her neck, sobs on her chest, so she stayed still, granting her sister the comfort she needed. She had suddenly remembered when they were still little, when Chaeyoung cried over her kitten that was crushed by a car or when she fell off while running around with her twin. She had always been the one who felt most and hid least, and this led to her two siblings growing a natural protectiveness over her.

-"I did it for myself. I will be fine. I always am." She stroked her sister's head, passing her fingers through her tangless tresses. She felt her sister crambling in her hold.

-"You always are.." Chaeyoung repeated.

-"Now, will you be there for my wedding?" Haneul said as she cupped her face, tenderly encouraging her to meet her gaze.

-"This is a loveless marriage.." She whispered, scared that this was her sister's denial speaking and not her conviction.

-"No, it's not loveless." She smiled, eyes traveling to every perfect imperfectness in her little Rose. Her adorable sensitivity and appealing cheeks.

-"I'm not be in love with my spouse, but the thrill and fun to come!" She revealed.

-"And something is telling me, he isn't as bad as you assume.."

The wedding was a simple one. It was, actually, only agreed upon because Haneul demanded it takes place. No one understood what she was intending to do, but her family trusted her so much, they didn't attempt on opposing her further than some meek, half hearted, one sided bickering. It took place on their big yard, with a few chairs here and there and a red carpet in between. The guests were dressed in formal, expensive costumes, and they were only consisted of the five family members, Taehyung as Chaeyoung's date, and Jungkook, since they were the siblings' childhood friends, children of their father's men. In the groom's side, only his bestman, Seokjin, as Yoongi had stayed in their base to deal with whatever business there was. Hoseok was there, too; an associate with both sides and a family friend. He was going to spread the news of this marriage, since it was a private one.

The already noiseless space hushed down as Mr. Park walked his veiled daughter down the aisle. Her dress flowed behind her steps as she graciously toed over the colored petals. Reaching her groom, he sealed eyes with her father, who gave him a nod, before moving to stand a few meters away.

Namjoon delicately removed her veil, unfolding her bright expressions and otherworldly hazels staring right back at him, before reluctantly clasping her hand.

The priest's prolonged speech fell into deaf ears, as the two of them caught on small details about eachother. She saw how anxious he was, how he tried to hide it by firming his stature and hardening his gaze. She felt his hesitating fingers, used to blow heads but strangers to soft touches.

-"I do." His stable voice answered the priest's when time came. She stared back at his flickering orbs, recomfirming her sure decision.

-"Park Haneul, do you take Kim Namjoon for your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

Her hands squeezed his as she charmed him once again with her alluring grin. A quiet breeze trodded in the garden, caressing skins and wiping tears.

-"I do." She recited.

And the agitated water displayed their first kiss.

[taintandviolent]

Taco Tuesday ; Gambit x reader!

summary: You live across the hall from Wade Wilson, and one Tuesday, he invites you over for tacos. 🌮 And that’s where you meet him. The Gambit. Post-Void, everyone got out alive and everything is fine. [PART TWO HERE]

word count & w a r n i n g s: 5.4K | smut with very little plot, alcohol mention, slightly drunk (but very consenting) reader, French and typing out accents/dialects, pet names (cher, mon ami, mon coeur, etc.), dirty talk (cos he is a dirty talker, don't argue with me on this), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, no use of y/n.

a/n: this is based 100% on Deadpool and Wolverine Gambit / Channing's version of Gambit!! sorry for the lack of plot here, he deserves better than this filth, but I am down ASTRONOMICALLY and I needed to get it out. I spent so much time trying to get his accent right, I hope it comes off the way I wanted it to... anyway! i'm not certain if anyone will read this, but if you do - thank you a million times over! as always, requests are open! - banner by @/strangergraphics, and Remy gif by @scintie!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle of Jack between your legs — wait. Pause. Rewind. How’d we get here?

Living in the same apartment complex as Wade Wilson was a trip. Even more of a trip was living across the hall from him. The things you heard coming from that apartment... nobody would believe you. So, you never told anyone. 

He’s kind. Albeit, zany but kind. Your interactions have been cordial and nauseatingly neighbourly. But on one regular ol' Tuesday afternoon, Wade invited you inside. He said something about having a party later that night, making tacos and being neighborly. He assured you that it wasn't a sex party... which to be honest, you weren't worried about until he'd mentioned it. Against your better judgement though, you'd agreed, and said you'd bring some liquor.

So, that evening, you opened your door, one bottle of Jack tucked under your arm, and another in your left hand. You shut the door to your apartment and walked straight across to your neighbour’s door. Your fist had rapped against the wood only twice before the door swung open, revealing Wade, and a very… strange and very bald looking dog in his arms. 

"Oh, what the fuck?" You asked, looking down at the creature. "I didn't know you had a dog…?"

Wade’s voice rose an octave or two, in a cutesy tone. "She's a new addition, yes she is!" 

"I brought... well, this. Sorry, it was all I had in my cabinets and to be perfectly honest, I wasn't about to go out and spend money on this. I like… barely know you."

"HA! Brutal honesty. We love to hear it." 

Wade took hold of your shoulder and yanked you inside, harsh enough that you made a small sound as he did. He shut the door with his foot, and towed you towards the table, where everyone was gathered. And that was when you first saw him. He wore all black, save for a tan trench coat with a high collar. He lounged casually on one of the dining chairs, playing with a deck of cards. They fluttered from hand to hand effortlessly, and for a moment, you were stuck, mesmerized by the dexterous way he handled them. You weren't sure what was pulling you towards him harder, your heart or your cunt, but you felt an undeniable draw to the man.

Wade's arm wound itself around your shoulders, guiding you around the room to meet each of his friends. At that point, living next to him, mutants were a forced transition. You were used to the concept of them, so meeting a giant silver man, for example, wasn't unexpected. Vanessa was the most normal - you were pretty sure she was human.

Finally, he got to the one you really wanted to meet. The one that your eyes had been darting back and forth to the entire time, the one that when he briefly met your gaze, your heart thudded in your chest. 

"And this... handsome slice of man, is the Gambit. Good luck understanding him, he's a real mouthful."

I’ll bet he is, you thought. 

He pocketed the cards in a quick motion and stood up from his chair. With a syrup-smooth chuckle, the man laughed and said: "You can call me Remy." He did in fact have a thick Cajun accent and spoke quickly – almost too quickly. You blinked once, focusing hard on his words.

"Remy," you repeated finally, before saying your own name and extending your hand. He took it gently and as he shook it, your palm tingled with what felt like electricity.

"Enchanté." (Enchanted)

Your cheeks burned, and you knew they were flushing. You couldn’t control it. "De même..." (Likewise.)

His brows lifted, surprised. "You speak French, mon ami?" (my friend) 

"Heh, uhh... comme un enfant." (Like a child) You chuckled low, averting your eyes for a millisecond. "I took a few years of it in high school and again in college. I’m by no means an expert."

Wade's eyes were wide, flicking back and forth between the two of you. There was obvious chemistry there, and a knowing smirk drew itself across his lips. Abruptly, he yanked one of the bottles of Jack Daniels from beneath your arm, before leaning against the nearby wall.

"Oh, fuck me. You understand Gumbo here? That’s cute. No idea what either of you are saying though, someone forgot to turn the subtitles on. I'll leave you two to get acquainted." Whatever that meant. You scoffed, but turned your attention back to Gambit, looking at him.

“Sit a while, cher.” 

You happily took the chair that he pulled out, not caring that it was facing away from the others, and plopped down onto it, situating the other bottle of Jack between your legs. You gripped the neck of the bottle tightly, and looked at him with a timid, but a come hither sort of smile. After a moment, you twisted the cap off, and flicked it off somewhere to your right. Wade would find it later, or he wouldn’t. You didn’t really care. 

You two talked for hours, most of which consisted of him telling you about the Void, and how hard it had been, while you pretended to comprehend it. Between words, you passed the bottle back and forth, taking mouthfuls, and inadvertently swapping spit as you did. The thought occurred to you about halfway through the conversation, and your stomach tightened. You shook your head lightly and clenched your thighs together, trying to stave off the arousal that was bubbling in your core. 

There we go. That’s better.

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle, which was still situated between your legs. His fingertips just graze the side of your thigh and his eyes flit to yours. He holds his smile, waiting for you to either protest or move the moment forward, and all you can do is gawk, because your cunt starts throbbing. 

As the evening wears on, though cautious, it’s obvious that Remy feels the same pull that you do. He remains cool on the outside, but internally, he was battling the magnetic tugging he felt from you. He couldn't shake it. He’d compliment you, you’d compliment him. At one point, in between sips, you casually drop that you think his accent is hot and he whispers something underneath his breath, something you don’t understand. Before either of you realized it, you had started to lean closer to each other, your faces inches apart, and you felt the warm rush of his breath over your cheeks.

It was as if you both realized it simultaneously. You rear back, an embarrassed expression plastered on your face. Remy clears his throat. His attraction to you was stifling; something that he rarely felt. He was powerless in his want for you, the draw you had was irresistible.

"Maybe we should... uh..." You murmur, looking deep into his eyes. In a room full of people that were starting to fade away the closer you two got to each other, you were thankful you were still sober enough to suggest a different setting. Any longer and you surely would’ve just straddled him and gone to town. 

Remy moves first. 

"We gon' take a walk." He announces to the others, getting to his feet. 

The conversation stops abruptly, silence hanging heavy. You straighten up, trying your best to avert your gaze, but you still see everyone’s reaction. Someone clears their throat and your heart sinks, feeling like you might die on the spot. The one that had been introduced as Logan, gruff looking dude, raises a single brow at you. In true Wade-character, he ugly cackles, shattering the moment. Your shoulders sink, embarrassed, as you head towards the door, doing the proverbial walk of shame. 

Remy meets you at the door and pulls it open, holding it for you. You duck underneath his arm, looking sheepish and as you exit into the hallway, you think you heard Wade mutter something about a fanfiction but Remy yanks the door shut before you can react. 

“You want to… get some air? Or um… I have… well, no I had liquor, but I brought it to Wade’s.” 

He smiles, and looks down at the floor, before lifting his eyes back to you. “We can do whatever you want, chère. You ain’t gon’ catch me complainin’ eitha’ way.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, considering the options. Your heart was hammering in your chest at the prospect of just being near him without the others around. You two had been close to kissing in Wade’s living room, and now, you had the opportunity to continue that… or take a walk. The latter seemed less appealing. 

“Y’know what, why don’t we… just…” You take a few steps backwards, jerking your head towards your front door. Concerningly, you had forgotten to lock your door. However, it allows you to open it quickly, and walk backwards into the apartment. Gambit follows you in, his attention never leaving you. 

"You sure 'bout dis, mon ami? I can walk away righ' now." His words land heavy, a promise behind them. He was a gentleman at heart, you could tell. Fortunately for him, you were very sure, and wanted every inch of him.

Mon ami - something that in the few hours you'd spent with him, he'd called you often. Among other things. Mon ami meant my friend, but you knew you two weren't just friends. You saw how he acted with others, and the comments he made. Sure, he had a quick wit and a mouth on him, but the flirting... god, the flirting.

He stands in the doorway, his shoulders filling the frame. Silently, you nod and take another step back, giving him some room to enter. He takes one wide step towards you, leaving the door open behind him. He reaches for your hip, and you immediately take to playing with his large hands. Delicately, you pay attention to each long digit, trailing your middle finger along the knuckles, and up and down the length of them. You dip into the spaces between, your fingers barely ghosting over the webbing. 

Was that a shiver? Your eyes flit to his, searching them for a hint.

"You sure do know how to make a man feel good." 

Your heart flutters at his words. With his accent, even the simplest of things sounded charming. At least to you. You felt that he could ask if you wanted coffee or how the weather was and you'd be twirling your hair around your finger like a desperate schoolgirl. Embarrassing. 

You’re about to respond and defend yourself by saying that all you had done was play with his hands, which was hardly considered foreplay, but his fingers come up underneath your chin, gently closing your mouth with a dull click of your teeth. He tilts it upwards to an angle where he could easily kiss you. And kiss you, he does. 

It was the kind of kiss that makes your knees buckle, sends a violent shudder from the nape of your neck down to the base of your spine. It’s the kind of kiss that needs to come with a warning; Danger: Will Result In Sex. As his lips move against yours, you feel the urgency of his need, of his want, and hum into his lips. Remy takes that as a green light and deepens the kiss, moving his body so that it’s pressing flush against yours. The action leaves you immediately breathless and in response, you break the kiss, tucking your chin to your chest. Your hand finds his torso, pressing hard against the muscles underneath the shirt.  

"Ah, don't you be actin' shy now. You been teasin' me for hours."

“I have not!”

“You think I didn’t notice all ‘dem touches an’ looks you were givin’ me? I may ‘ave been born at night, but I wasn’t born last night.” 

He had you there. You couldn’t deny that, at all. Even if you’d wanted to. Which, part of you did. Part of you was very nervous, standing before this very handsome man, with the taste of his mouth still lingering on your lips but another part of you, the louder one, was delighted that he’d noticed. Furthermore, that he’d enjoyed them enough to come to your room.

You lift your hand behind him, pushing the door shut with a harsh shove. With a twist of your fingers, you activate the locking mechanism, sliding the deadbolt into place. Gambit chuckles, grinning down at you. Your heart leaps into your throat, but you press on bravely, lacing your arms around his neck. They trail down the front of his body, feeling the muscles as they twitch with each ragged breath. 

He quirks a brow as if to ask, 'Oh, really?' You simply smirk back at him. The contact is electric, and you find yourself resisting the urge to grind against him immediately. Instead, you focus on his hands again, bringing one of them up to your lips. You press a delicate kiss on the pads, before slipping one into your mouth and sucking gently. Remy makes a deep, husky sound in his throat, and brings his other hand to your hip, where he pulls you roughly against him.

For a man that uses his hands often, the sensations are high. The way your mouth envelops his finger, your tongue writhing around the digit had his jaw clenching, muscles fluttering on the side of his face. When you draw his finger into the confines of your throat, deep-throating it, his eyes roll back in pleasure. He pulls his hand back, shaking it off as if the inside of your mouth was hot to the touch.

"Woo, you nasty, huh? Nevah’ woulda' guessed... you been actin' like a good little girl 'uhround me." 

After that, it all happened very quickly. Gambit takes a step and connects his lips with yours again, pushing them into you in an act of desperation. Without breaking the kiss, he shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby surface. You push against him until his back hits the door with a heavy thud, definitely loud enough for any innocent bystanders to hear. Your fingers undo the button of your jeans, breaking the kiss for only a second to slide them down your legs. 

Once you return to his waiting mouth, the kiss deepens and the coil in your stomach winds tighter, claiming your body in a deep, fiery arousal. His big arms wrap around you, enveloping you in a heated embrace. Just for a moment, it’s tender — but shortly after, his hands drop to your ass, fingers slipping underneath the band of fabric to take greedy fistfuls of each cheek. 

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping the roundness of them to use as leverage. Letting out a little hum, you sweep your hips across his groin, pressing tightly against him. His eyes drift shut, head bumping against the door as he leaned it back, a low growl coming from his throat. Keeping at it, you grind your hips against him, feeling the outline of his length as it hardens.

“You be drivin’ Remy crazy, grindin’ on me like ‘dat.”

“That’s the intention….” You stand on your tiptoes to pepper kisses on his lips, your warm breath fanning over his face, smelling faintly of Jack Daniels. Remy trails his hand carefully up your rib cage until he gets to the side of your breast, where he quickly slips around to the front, his large hand cupping the fullness of it outside of your shirt. Your reaction is visceral; your breath hisses through your teeth at the sensitivity. 

Remy laughs again and with his free hand, pulls your hips back to his. Swiftly, he spins you around, pinning you between his body and the hard surface of the door. He presses himself tightly against you, shifting slightly so that his thigh was between your legs. The sensation of something that close to your core is dangerous and brings a weak, mewling whimper from your mouth.

“We gon’ have ourselves some fun.” His voice is low, tinged with a new sort of lustful tone that you hadn't heard before. Your mind is spinning, growing dizzy with lust. The alcohol had certainly helped your nerves, you were never usually this brazen. Your core burns with desire at his words, silently begging for everything he was about to give you. His lips hover just over yours; you can feel his breath on your skin and the heat that radiates off his body as it presses into yours.

"Oh my god," you whisper into his mouth. "Fuck..."

His teeth nip at your bottom lip before he captures your mouth in a heated, passionate kiss again. His tongue explores the inside, swirling along your own wet muscle. With every passing second, your heart beats faster and his hands grip your hips tighter, thumbs massaging the flesh above your jeans.

“Wrap ‘dem legs around me, mon coeur.” (My heart) Remy’s voice is husky with want; amongst his playful, lilted tone, a possessiveness lingered, and the thought sends a chill down your spine. He nods once, encouraging you into his waiting arms. You jump up, and he catches you effortlessly, gripping your thighs tight and hoisting you up into his grasp. Feeling secure, you wrap both legs around his waist and encircle his neck with your arms. Your gaze meets his and you can see the wanton need mirrored in his own eyes, darkened with desire.

Remy's smirk is dripping with confidence. Your body's response to him was causing his ego to swell within his chest, and his cock to swell within his pants. He leans in close, his lips against your ear, nipping at the lobe softly before pulling back slightly. In one fluid movement, his hips buck up against your center, teasing you over the layers of clothing. You let out a moan, throwing your head back against the door.

He thrusts up into you again, chuckling low against your ear. The hard line of his cock grinds against you, making you stutter out expletives as it presses against you with a needy demand. 

"You like 'dat, cher? Talk t' me..."

You nod, swallowing and wetting your throat. "Y-yeah, fuck... I do... need you – it – so bad."

“Whaddya’ need?”

“N-need you… so bad.” 

“You can do betta’. Tell Remy what you need...” 

He presses you harder against the door, your back sliding against the wood as he kisses a trail down from your mouth to your shoulder, sucking and biting with all the right intensities. As his hips grind against yours, you feel the damp fabric slide across your cunt, alerting you to just how wet he’d made you. Fuck. 

“Need… need you to fuck me. Hard. Need to feel you everywhere.”  

A few hours ago, you’d agreed to Taco Tuesday at Wade’s. Now, you were getting dry humped by a really hot Cajun guy and moaning into the curve between his neck and his shoulder. You were positive that if someone opened their door, they’d hear you. Somewhere in your brain, the thought should have been moderately embarrassing, but you were far too invested in Remy to care. 

Without warning, Gambit lifts you away from the door and carries you to the nearby couch. He never breaks the kiss, still feverishly claiming your mouth as he moves. Your back hits the cushions and before you can process it, his body weight is on top of you. He slots himself in between your legs, and his hard-on bumps into your stomach as his hips rut against you, finding some relief in the friction. But not enough. 

Remy’s hand finds the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough to allow his fingers underneath the fabric. You bite down on the pillow of your bottom lip and push your hips up into his. Thick, strong digits sweep across your skin, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake. Every touch brings your temperature up, and it isn’t long before your entire body is consumed in flames. You sigh contentedly, arching up into his touch. 

Abruptly, Remy straightens up, crosses his arms over his torso and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his tan skin and bulky muscles. His stocky stature makes your tummy clench with anticipation. He was fit, as you assumed, but that didn’t stop your jaw from falling open at the sight. 

“Wow,” you finally choke.

Remy grins. “You like what you see?” 

You nod furiously, hands snapping to his toned abdomen. He’s warm and his skin is soft, begging to be touched. The muscles flex underneath your fingers as you trace a long stripe from his belly button to his collarbone. Your hands claw at his shoulder, attempting to pull him back down on you, but he resists. 

He spoke with a playfulness, almost a sort of pleading. His thumbs flicks at the hem of your shirt. “Ah, c’mon, ‘dat ain’t fair. Enlève-tout toi, huh?” (Take it all off.)

You thought you understood, but if you didn’t, it didn’t matter. Remy was quick to translate his words, busy undressing you, pulling your worn t-shirt over your head, and reaching around your back to unclasp your bra. Most men would’ve fumbled with the clasp, but not him. His adept fingers make quick work of it, allowing your breasts to fall free. He throws your bra somewhere behind him. 

“Hooo, cher…!” His eyes light up at the visual and you feel heat blooming on your cheeks again, half expecting him to make a lewd comment. Instead, his hands cup your tits, kneading the soft plumpness like dough, thumbs grazing the nipples. He exhales through his mouth, jerking his head to the side. 

Finally, he kisses you again. It’s wet and sloppy and his mouth is consuming you, tasting you hungrily. His hips are still moving, sweeping into yours with a calculated precision. You try to spread your legs but the back of the couch thwarts your attempt. He notices this, watching as you struggle with the space. 

“You got a bed?” He asked in between smearing kisses along your neck and collarbone. 

“Yeah-yeah…. Down the hall.” 

“Remy be needin’ more room for what he wanna’ do t’you.”

His weight is suddenly gone from you, an unwelcome sensation, even though you know he’s about to carry you wedding-style down the hallway. He bends down, one arm sliding underneath your neck, the other in the crook behind your knees. For the second time that night, he lifts you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his warm pectoral muscle, rocking back and forth, as he walks you both down the dark hallway. The only light in the room comes from the window, the city outside alive and humming. Carefully, Remy sets you down on the bed, unmade from this morning, your dark gray sheets cool to the touch. 

In nothing but your underwear, which at this point, are damp to the touch, you’re left feeling very exposed. But you can’t muster up any shame, not when he’s looking at you with such hunger, such want. Your tummy feels tight, and the feeling gets worse when Remy’s hands drop to his waist, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants. They fall loose at the waist, and he shucks them down the rest of the way, leaving him in nothing but a pair of deep purple boxers. Your eyes swing heavy to the outline that’s now presented to you. 

Oh my god. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; Remy was a big guy, and that proved true downstairs, too. You can barely pull your eyes away from it, but you begrudgingly rip them away, to look up into his gaze. 

“Please,” you beg. “You’re too far away…” Your cunt is aching and nothing but him, his hands, his dick, will sate her. 

He leans forward, flattening both hands on the mattress and walks them back until his face is in front of yours. He sweeps you into another kiss and your heart races. His hands are perfectly positioned on either side of your hips, you feel them graze the flesh. His finger hooks around the elastic of your panties, twisting it around his pointer finger and gradually, he tugs them down over the curve of your hip.

You nod lazily against his mouth, as you feel the warmth of his hand near your core. Your legs drop apart, knees touching the mattress as you allow him access. One hand sweeps across your inner thighs, stroking them, while the other palms your soft mound. His other hand comes to pause at your knee, and pushes his weight into it softly, forcing you to stay spread-eagle for him. No way you could’ve done this on the sofa. 

There’s no hesitation in the way he fingers you; sweeping up through your slick folds, smearing your arousal around until she’s coated in it, splaying your pretty, wet cunt apart with his fingers, looking upon it hungrily. He knows what he’s doing, and how to do it right. You briefly wonder if that’s another mutant power he has… though being an expert at fingering someone seems outlandish. But he’s just so good at it. His middle finger barely touches you, circling the bundle of nerves delicately. Your back arches up towards him, a desperate groan vibrating your vocal chords. Delighted by your reaction, his finger flicks upwards at your swollen, sensitive clit, making your body literally quiver. 

“Uhugh – god…. Shit, oh my god.” 

He continues like this for several minutes, until your cunt is blazing hot and clenching with every moan you give. 

By the time he presses one finger inside, you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and your voice fills the room with needy, desperate sounds. You let out a shrill whine, and he slips in another finger, feeling the stretch of muscle as he does. His heart is pounding in his chest, overcome with lust. The way you sound, the way your body is moving and writhing on the bed, he can’t wait to sink himself into you. 

Amidst a laugh, he says: “People gon’ think we up in here watchin’ porn.”

Did he just insinuate that you sounded like a pornstar? You lifted your head, wearily, to look at him. Your chest heaves with each breath as you try to formulate a snarky remark to no avail. He looked so good – well, always – but he looked particularly good on top of you, his bright eyes lust blown and hungry. 

“We’re… we’re… porn… it’s…  oh god.” 

He shushes you. “You just lay back and keep moanin’.” 

Defeated, you huff and your head hits the sheets again, but not before you catch a glimpse of the way the muscles in his forearm ripple as it pumps back and forth into your cunt. You can’t help but moan at the sight, feeling a shockwave rupture your core. Your hips meet his fingers, rutting and writhing against the mattress in a needy rhythm.

Your first orgasm claims your body before you can stop it. You’re clenching around his fingers as they move, crooking upwards into your sensitive spots. Your slick coats his fingers and when Gambit pulls his hand back, thick, clear strands string from between them. He smiles down at you. 

Remy raises himself to his knees. “Turn ‘round…” 

You flip over and back yourself towards him, thinking that he’s going to go at it doggy-style, but to your surprise, he pulls you upright, pressing your back against his chest. His dick is hot between your legs, and when he reaches down to line it up, you let your head loll back against his shoulder. Gambit’s mouth finds the side of your neck, streaking it with wet, suckling kisses. He was taking his time with you, savouring you and you hum happily through closed lips, reaching behind you to thread your fingers through his hair.

“Fuck, you feel so good…” Instinctively, your hips undulate and his cock slips between your folds. Remy’s hips buck once, letting out a groan that comes from somewhere deep. 

“You ready, cher?” He asks, sweeping your hair away from your neck. You nod furiously. You’ve been ready – you were ready the moment you laid eyes on him.

Remy reaches down to sweep his fingers along your entrance briefly, before gripping himself and guiding the head of his cock into the slit. You keen at the feeling of his velvet-soft head pressing into your entrance, warm pre-cum leaking from the slit. He murmurs words of encouragement into your ear as you feel his hips press against your ass, urging his thick, veiny shaft inside your cunt. He does it gently, allowing you time to adjust to the girth, but the sting still makes you cry out. “Fffuck!”

He begins to thrust his hips shallowly, your cunt stretching around his cock. The feeling is all-consuming, and your body feels heavy in his grasp. One hand is gripping your waist tightly, the other, fingers splayed out on your stomach just above your cunt. There’s a pressure building in your cunt, and each thrust magnifies it. The sting of his cock fades to an ache, then to a dull throbbing that makes you want more and you lean forward slightly and press your ass into the curves of his hips, meeting his thrusts. 

“Mm, ‘dat’s it, cher…” His voice is hot on your skin. 

His thrusts get deeper, but there’s a lingering tension in his body that makes you feel like he’s not getting what he wants. You’re right; all at once, Remy pulls his cock from you and switches positions. 

You’re suddenly on your back, looking up at him as he looms over you, all muscle. His cockhead nudges your entrance again, but doesn’t penetrate. 

“Say my name, cher… I needa’ hear it leave ‘dat pretty mouth.” 

“Which one? Gambit? Or Remy?” You ask, breathlessly.

The way his eyes rolled back at the second option told you everything you needed to know. A smirk twisted your lips cruelly and you lifted your body slightly, just enough for your mouth to reach his ear. You moan his name over and over again, knowing full well the effect it’s having on the mutant man.

“Remy, Remy, Remy….” Your tone is high-pitched and whiny, but he seems to enjoy the lewdness of it all. He bucks his hips hard into you, and the fullness reaches an all-time high as he bottoms out, his pelvis hitting yours with a slap.

“Huhhh—!” You gasp, breathing ragged. “Fuck!”

“Gonna’ make you cum so hard you ain’t gon’ walk right for days.” His voice is low and filthy and leaves a stain on your mind. Your cunt clenches around him possessively, pulling him somehow deeper inside of you. 

As your head bangs into your headboard, the tip of his cock bumps your cervix over and over again, and your jaw goes slack, literally fucked silent. Remy hears the thudding of your skull and puts a hand between it and the wood, but he doesn’t stop his relentless, deep thrusting. 

The pleasure reaches a peak and your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent moon shaped indentations on his golden skin. Remy’s groaning loud into your ear as he cums, muttering in an almost incoherent melange of French and English. His accent is somehow heavier, and you can barely make out the words as he’s saying them into your skin. It doesn’t matter though, because you feel how full you are, and Remy’s hot, white completion is leaking out the sides and staining your sheets. 

He stays like that for a moment, hovering on top of you. His cock softens inside, completely spent and eventually, he slips it out, rolling over onto your bed.

“Ah, joi de vivre, huh.” (the joy of life), he says drowsily.

You laugh, and nestle underneath his arm, in the space he’s left for you. 

If you had your way, you’d do it all over again. 

Though he doesn’t say it, so would he. 

[cera-writes]

Remy and reader on their wedding day and night. Fluff and smut please? 😗😗😗😗😗😗

A/N: I like the way you think 🥰🥰🥰 Pairing: F!Reader x Remy "Gambit" LeBeau Tags: fluff, nfsw, sweet sweet smut

"I Do."

The air crackled with nervous anticipation, a fizzing current that danced along your spine. Sunlight streamed through the ornate French doors, casting a warm glow across the sprawling gardens of the St Louis Cathedral. It was the day. You were marrying Remy LeBeau.

A shiver, not entirely from the air-conditioned coolness of the room, rippled through you. You glanced at yourself in the antique mirror, the handcrafted lace of your wedding dress whispering against your skin. It was a vision of elegance, a stark contrast to the life you once knew. But then, so was everything about Remy.

A soft rap at the door startled you. "Come in," you called, your voice barely above a whisper.

The door creaked open, revealing Remy. He looked impossibly handsome in his tailored black suit, a crimson rosebud pinned to his lapel. His eyes, red as garnet and black as night, held a familiar warmth that sent a familiar flutter to your heart.

For a moment, you could only stare at him, speechless. He took a hesitant step forward, a sheepish grin breaking across his face. "Well, mon cheri," he drawled, his voice a barely above a caress, "you look like you swallowed a canary."

You swatted him playfully on the arm, a laugh bubbling up from your chest. "That's the most eloquent compliment I've ever gotten from a thief."

Remy chuckled, the sound rich and deep. "Only for you, cherie. Only for you." He reached out, his hand hovering over yours. "Are you ready?"

You squeezed his hand, the nervous energy dissipating into a calm certainty. "As I'll ever be."

Remy's smile softened. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "Then let's go steal the show, shall we?"

The walk down the aisle was a blur. Arms linked with Remy's, you felt a thousand eyes on you, yet all that mattered was the man beside you. You glanced over at the X-Men, your friends over the years as they smiled at the two of you. Morph was bawling, tears streaming down their eyes. Even some of Remy's old Guild acquaintances had shown up and made an appearance. Remy squeezed your hand reassuringly as you reached the altar, a silent promise exchanged in a single touch.

The ceremony was beautiful, a tasteful blend of your traditions and Remy's heritage. When it came time for the vows, Remy's voice, usually smooth as butter, trembled slightly. His words, though, were heartfelt, a testament to the love that had bloomed from the most unexpected of places.

Yours were no less heartfelt, spoken with a conviction that surprised even yourself. You pledged your love, your loyalty, your entire chaotic, beautiful life to this charming thief who had stolen your heart.

You both said without a single doubt in your words, "I do," at last.

As your longtime friend Kurt Wagner declared you husband and wife, Remy took your face in his hands, his gaze intense. The kiss that followed was filled with a lifetime of unspoken emotions, a promise whispered on stolen breaths.

The reception was a whirlwind of laughter, music, and dancing. Remy, ever the charmer, regaled your friends and family with tales of your adventures, your first time ever have met each other, each embellished for maximum effect. You watched him, a smile permanently plastered on your face, your heart overflowing with a happiness you never thought possible.

Later that night, as you stood on the balcony overlooking the moonlit gardens, Remy wrapped his arms around you from behind. "So," he murmured, his voice husky, "Mrs. LeBeau. How does it feel?"

You leaned back against him, a contented sigh escaping your lips. "Like coming home, Remy. Like I finally belong."

He nuzzled your neck, his lips sending shivers down your spine. "Then welcome home, cherie. Welcome home."

As you gazed out at the star-dusted sky, hand in hand with the man you loved, you knew this was just the beginning of your grand adventure. A life together, filled with laughter, love, and perhaps the occasional heist, was a future you wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

But the night didn't stop there. Your Honeymoon awaited as Remy carried you bridal style back through the threshold.

Remy had managed to secure a beautiful hotel nestled in the heart of the French Quarter.

A slow smile spread across his face as he sat you down inside the French Chateau. He cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. "Let's get you out of this dress, shall we?"

His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. You nodded, a silent agreement hanging heavy in the air. He helped you remove the dress, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours.

When you stood before him in nothing but your lingerie, the air crackled with unspoken desire and undeniable lust. He took a step back, his eyes roaming over your body, a mixture of possessiveness and reverence in his gaze.

"Ma Belle, you are absolutely stunning," he breathed, his voice thick with desire, his accent thickening.

You stepped closer, bridging the gap between you. You reached out, your fingers tracing the planes of his chest. His muscles tensed beneath your touch, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before it was replaced by a hungry glint in his eyes.

He captured your lips in a kiss, deep and demanding. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken promises, of a lifetime of passion waiting to be explored. You surrendered to him completely, your senses overwhelmed by the taste of him, the feel of his strong arms wrapped around you.

You then pushed Remy down onto the plush bed adorned with red rose petals. He smirked devilishly, eyes never leaving yours as he beckoned you closer.

The night stretched before you, filled with stolen moments and whispered endearments. Remy was everything you'd ever dreamt of and more - tender and passionate, playful and protective. He explored your body with a reverence that left you breathless, his touch igniting a fire within you.

"Oh gods, Remy! Don't stop, please..." you begged breathlessly as he took you inch by inch, rough and hard, needy and desperate. "F-fuck chere! T-tu te sens si b-bien," he stammered, breaths coming out in short pants. You were both reaching new heights of ecstasy with each other.

You'd made it a point early on in your relationship that if he wanted you, he'd have to bed you properly on your wedding night as traditional and outdated as that sounded. You were tired of having your heart played with in the past. But here he was now, worshipping your body like a long forgotten art. Funny how life turned out for the both of you.

As the night wore on, the initial urgency gave way to a slow, sensual exploration. Remy was thrusting into you in slow deliberate thrusts. Your body fit him like a glove. "Just like that baby, god I love you, Remy...my cajun man," you kissed his lips as he made love to you.

He smiled, half proud and half completely enamored with how you were making him feel.

You learned each other's bodies in a new way, the pleasure building with each touch, each kiss.

Finally, sated and breathless, you lay curled up in his arms, the moonlight painting silver streaks across your entwined forms.

"I love you, Remy," you whispered once more, as if never getting tired of those three words, your voice thick with sleep.

He nuzzled your hair, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "Je t'aime, mon cœur," he murmured. "Plus que les mots ne peuvent le dire."

You drifted off to sleep, the feeling of his love a warm blanket wrapped around you, the promise of a lifetime together a sweet dream on your lips.

You were his and he was yours.

Pour Toujours.

[xreaderanonaccount]

A Caring Maid(Arlecchino x AFAB!Reader)

Tags: Slightly Suggestive

Arlecchino was on stritch bed rest by not only you but by Pierro himself. She may or may not over extend herself causing herself to lose focus and get severely injured. That day is not a day she would like to remember as when you received the news you balled your eyes out, believing that she was dying. Even the children were crying thinking that she was dying. But she was in fact not dying. 

In her giant shared bedroom it was filled with drawings and cards from children of the house of hearth, or the soldiers who once were part of the house of hearth. Alrecchino found all of this silly, she was perfectly fine and she could move around. But how can she say no when you look so beautiful when you're mad. Your perfect face, and the little pouty face you make when she doesn’t listen to you. Ah how can anyone protest your orders? A soft raps on the door snapped Arlecchino out of her thoughts. 

“Come in.”  She watched as you walked into the room with a… maid dress? Arlecchino's brain malfunction for a bit as you walked towards her with a beaming smile. 

“What… are you wearing Mon chéri?” Arlecchino asked, slowly getting up but was gently pushed back down by you. 

“You like it? I asked one of the housekeepers about getting one.” You smiled, twirling a bit, allowing the frills to dance around. Arlecchino just smiled watching your little performance.

“I like it, I think you should wear it more.” Arlecchino smirked as she traced her hand up your exposed legs. You blush at her implications before gently smacking her hand away. 

“For another time, not until you’re fully healed up.” You smiled dipping into the bed, placing down a plate of food. 

“You do know I’m not dying right?” Arlecchino smirked, propping herself with one arm, playing with your frills a bit. 

“Am I not allowed to still care for you?” You questioned, scooping up a bit of the food before placing it right in front of her mouth.

“Now say Ah!” You smiled, Arlecchino rolled her eyes before accepting the spoon in her mouth, enjoying the delicous food that you provided for her.

“Do you like it? I had Freminet help me with it!” You beamed as you continue your rambles about the children of the hearth. How good they are behaving and how Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet is helping out around the orphanage. But Arlecchino couldn’t care, for now, all her attention was on you. Maybe she should get injured more often. If it means she gets to see you like this.

A/N: divider credits: cafekitsune, Prompt credits: Creativewritingprompts on tumblr

[lovelytsunoda]

she sells sanctuary // charles leclerc (kinktober day 5!)

summary: she wasn’t expecting him to be home so soon. and now that he is, she can’t stand seeing him so exhausted. a warm shower should fix that, right?

paring: charles leclerc x female! reader

prompt: shower/bath sex

warnings; inappropriate use of a shower, sex in a shower, french pet names, kinda sorta p*rn without plot and goes from 0 to 100 real quick. definitely not my favourite of the kinktober blurbs, but i think it turned out alright save for the underwhelming ending.

she could tell charles had come home as soon as she got through the door. his suitcase was by the kitchen island, his designated airplane crocs strewn across the front hall. the sound of the shower travelling down the penthouse hallway.

but more so, the apartment felt happier.

smiling to herself, she began to walk down the hallway to the bathroom, first shedding her blazer, then her blouse and her skirt in a trail down the hallway, ending with her garter belt and stockings. she stood in front of the bathroom door in nothing but her baby blue lingerie set, gently pushing the door open and plunging headfirst into the steamy room.

she rapped on the foggy shower glass, capturing charles attention before she began to strip out of the clothing that remained on her body, her lovers eyes trained on her through a small space on the glass that he had wiped clear with the palm of his hand. she stepped into the shower, letting the water wash over her as she cupped Charles’ face.

“I’ve missed you, mon cher.”

charles leaned in and kissed her, water droplets falling off his skin and onto hers. “I’ve missed you more, mon ange. your voice, your laughter. your stunning body. the way you scream my name when I’m inside you.”

"you're home early."

charles shrugged. "i traded flights with max." he kissed her, warm water from the shower falling between their lips. "missed you too much."

"i'm glad you're home, my love." she looped her arms around charles neck, pressing her naked body up against his.

he kissed her softly, but the kiss didn't remain soft for long: her pebbled nipples pressing into his chest, his cock growing harder between their bodies, the warm water from the shower head pelting their bodies.

it felt eerily similar to their first kiss, which had happened mid-rainstorm.

mindful of the slippery shower floor, charles was careful in maneuvering her body so her front was pressed flush against the glass, breasts pressed up against the cool surface, hands leaving prints in the fog.

charles kissed the back of her neck, his lips warm against her cool skin, not quite acclimated to the temperature in the bathroom. she hummed under his touch, barely audible over the sound of the rain head.

"can i have you, mon amour? show you how much i missed you?"

"yes, charles. please."

charles slid into her gently, not wanting their little escapade to land them both in the emergency room, trying to justify their broken bones. not only that, but he truly wanted to show the love of his life just how much he had missed her body, and how much he treasures her.

“oh, cha.” she breathed gently, cheek pressed against the glass as she moved her head to the side, humming at his deep, gentle strokes. “fuck, I’ve missed this.”

“I know, cherie. I haven’t been treating you right. but I’m here now.” charles said reverently, holding her hip as he thrust into her again, a little quicker this time.

she moaned against him, back pressed to his chest and warm water streaming down both of their bodies. she’d missed the way he filled her up, made her feel giddy with lust.

“god, I’ve missed this feeling.” she breathed, whimpering as her lovers cock scraped against her walls. “missed having you near me. touching me. my fingers aren’t enough.”

"don't worry, angel. i'm here now, whenever you want me you just need to say the word. that's what i'm here for."

she moaned again, clenching around charles' member as he continued to thrust inside of her, squeezing her hips tightly, skin smacking into skin.

"charles, i think-" she couldn't finish the sentence, panting and out of breath as she moaned again, her walls clamping down on her lover.

"it's okay." charles soothed, lips against her skin and he breathed the words. "i've got you."

she came with a cry of his name, soaking his cock with the evidence of her climax. she was exhausted, but still craved more. needed more.

charles slipped out of her quickly, and she watched as he jerked his cock a few times, enough to send his seed spilling out over the shower floor and down the drain.

"well, i don't think this shower got you any cleaner." she said softly, nibbling on her bottom lip. "but if we head to the bed for another round and get even dirtier, you could have another one later?"

charles laughed, kissing her forehead before turning off the shower head. "i'd like that very much. have to make up for how much i missed you, ma cherie."

[bedoballoons]

just came here to say that I love the way you write lyney, that guy is fighting heizou for the 👑 of 'king of rizz' 🗿🌺 so pls, could you do a lyney x reader (He has a crush on the reader but still has to confess) where the reader has a friend who constantly flirts with them the same way lyney does, so when they meet each other it just turns into a rap battle between them of who has the best pick up lines, but the reader it's just so oblivious that doesn't understand what's going on 💀 idk it just came to my mind and I found it funny

the reader can be any gender and happy ending for poor boy lyney

SPOILER OF THE ARCHON QUEST 4.1!!!

after seeing all the stress he went through with Lynette and Freminet in the Fortress of Meropide and by the Wolverine man who's name i don't remember atm I just want something funny idk I was sad through all the quest by how bad things where going, especially for him. Give my man a break 🗿🌺

Thank you!! I have been waiting to write this cause it sounds so funny, love a good rizz battle!! I hope you enjoy and don't worry, I'll make sure Lyney gets a happy ending with the reader!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Rizz it up~༺}

CW: Gn reader who's a little dense, flirting battles, very slight jealousy on Lyneys part, confessions and fluff at the end! Lyney calls the reader mon amour!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney winked at you, a small smirk playing on his lips as he held out a rainbow rose between his fingers, trying desperately to catch your attention, but...alas he wasn't the only one. On the other side of you was a friend of yours, gently taking your hand in his and spinning you away from the magician, while you looked at him like he might actually be crazy.

"What's...going on with you two?"

Lyney chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck after he shot a quick glare in your friends directions, "Nothing mon amour,... just having a little fun is all. I must say though, it's quite hard for me to concentrate with you around, your beauty is simply overwhelming my ability to pay attention to anything else. Tell me, how does someone come to look like a angel?~"

You raised a eyebrow at his question, not really knowing how to answer until you were pulled away from the conversation by your friend who softly touched your cheek, "Please magician boy, even angels can't compare to you, they'd weep in the mirrors if they even caught sight of your goregous smile~" You were only growing more confused with each sentence and the constant switching of who you were suddenly near was starting to make you dizzy, "Okay maybe we-"

"Oh mon amour, you're smile isn't the only goregous thing though. Personally your laugh is one of my favourite things about you, the sweet sound of it could cure a rainy day in seconds and your eyes, when I look into them I swear I can see the stars.~" Lyney interrupted you, sneaking his arm around your waist and dipping you almost to the ground, face mere inches away from yours, "L-Lyney?"

His heart skipped a beat when he realized the position he had gotten himself into, your perfect body in his arms and your lips so close to his he could almost feel them, if he didn't confess now he'd never find a more perfect moment again. "....may I kiss you?" The question caught you by surprise, your cheeks going red as you stared up at him, was that what this was all about? Had he planned it just so he could tell you his feelings?

In reality it wasn't planned in the slightest, but the thought of such a romantic gesture and the way butterflies gathered in your stomach from the way he was holding you, the answer was simply, "You may.." With your permission he closed the gap, giving you a loving kiss that pulled the two of you even closer together, both of you melting into it so naturally.

Meanwhile your friend had walked away, considered their job well done and silently wishing you two the best.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[jungkookslipring]

could you do a bts tickle fic x reader? 💜

ABSOLUTELY

Rap Mon? More Like Tickle Mon

summary: When a lee mood gets the best of you, theres on particular tickle monster who will happily fill your needs

pairings: Namjoon x reader with mentions of ot7

genre: fluff, tickle

relationship: platonic

Being in a lee mood was rough, especially if you were alone. But the worst was when it hit you the hardest when you were at your best friends' house. Would they judge you? Of course not! They've poked and squeezed your side on numerous occasions any time you'd be reaching for a cup in the cupboard or stretching, but the idea of having to ask made you flustered. You knew what Namjoon was capable of because you had watched him wreck the other members, especially the younger ones, and you couldn't help but sometimes feel jealous you weren't on the receiving end.

One particular afternoon you were washing dishes because you were bored and decided to help them out. Namjoon came out of the bathroom and saw you scrubbing bowls with citrusy dish soap.

"You don't have to do that," he whined poking your side as he walked by you. You jumped at the feeling and bit back a grin.

"I'm bored and saw the dishes weren't done, its no big deal" you say, already missing the electric feeling on your side.

"If you're bored let's go do something," Namjoon suggested as he poked you a couple times on your side, attempting to get you to stop what you're doing. You couldn't help but smile as you grabbed a small Tupperware container that you're grateful wasn't glass because Namjoon came up behind you and gently squeezed your sides, earning a small squeal from your lips. You threw your hand over your mouth as Namjoon looked at you over your shoulder with a shocked face.

"I didn't realize how ticklish you were," he said cheekily as he squeezed you again. You dropped the tupperware in the sink and did your best to protect your sides.

"Joohoohoohoon," you giggle as he keeps tight grip on your and keeps squeezing your sides. You yelp as he wraps his arms around your middle and drags you to the living room, gently laying you on the floor before straddling you. He started poking your tummy, smiling as the giggles started flowing. You tried your hardest to cover your sides but you were praying he wouldn't actually stop anytime soon.

"Do you want me to keep going?" he asks suddenly. How tf did he know? You don't know how to answer that question, other than to cover up your face. Namjoon couldn't help but coo and pull your hands away from your flushed face.

"It's not weird, I promise y/n," he said sweetly. After a few seconds, you nod hesitantly, giggling louder than before not too long after when his hands find their way to your tummy, scratching and squeezing your flesh as you roll around as much as you can.

"Ihihihit tickles hehehehehe!" you squeal as he alternates between squeezing your side and squeezing your tummy. Namjoon couldn't help but laugh along with you, seeing how happy this was making you. He settled with light tickles on your sides and tummy for a while until he got a hold of both your wrists in one hand and used his free hand to scratch your ribs. You screeched, not realizing how ticklish you were.

"Ohhhhh is this a bad spot?" he teased as he racked his nails up and down your ribs, smiling at the hiccupy laughter coming from you. Your mind was so floaty from the feeling you didn't feel him lift up your already cropped t shirt and blow a raspberry on your ribs.

"AHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NAMJOON WAIHAHAHAHAHA IT TICKLES SO BAHAHAHAHAD" you screamed as he blew raspberry after raspberry on your ribs, sides, and tummy for God knows how many minutes. Once your laughter became wheezy, he slowed down the tickles and came to a complete stop.

"Hopefully I didn't go too far," Namjoon said moving the hair out of your face. You shook your head as giggles kept flowing.

"I'm okahay...I actually..." you paused. You didn't know if you wanted to say what you were thinking.

"You actually what? Remember I won't judge you," he said reassuringly. You swallowed, its now or never.

"I...I can keep going if you want to," you say, getting ready to cover up your face before Namjoon stopped you.

"I am more than happy to keep you laughing as long as you want," he said so simply yet so heartfelt you wanted to cry. He took your wrists back into his hand and started moving them above your head.

"Is this okay?" he asked, waiting for consent so he wouldn't go too far or make you even the slightest bit uncomfortable. You nod and verbally give him the "Okay" before he went to town on your exposed underarms.

"OH MYHAHAHAHAHA GODHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NAMJOONIEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHA THATS SO BAHAHAHAHAD" you scream as you buck your hips at the extremely sensitive feeling on your armpit. He kneaded, scribbled, poked, and drilled his fingers and thumb into the sensitive skin for maybe ten minutes before you finally tapped out.

"OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY JOON IM DYING IM DONE IM DONEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" You screech before you stop squirming completely and just melt into the floor, giving in to the tickles that were zapping through your entire body. Namjoon let go immediately and let you curl up on yourself, rubbing away the ghost tickles.

"Thank...thank you Joonie," you pant, blushing from the heavenly tortue you just went through. He smiled and pulled you onto his lap, hugging you tight.

"My pleasure, and please don't be afraid to ask for these types of things, y/n, we are the last people to judge you," he said giving you a friendly kiss on your cheek. From then on if you were in a lee mood, everyone in the house was more than willing to fill the room with your laughter.

taglist: @felixmainacc @felixburneracc @myforevermelody143 @dunno-wut-to-do @itzsana-kiddingmenow

[i0veless]

LET ME MAKE IT CLEAR :: KYLIAN MBAPPE

𖥻 SUMMARY ー [ best to eradicate rumours -  in style ] 𖥻 PAIRING ー [ kylian mbappe x fem! rapper/singer! reader  ] 𖥻 GENRE ー [ fluff, suggestive content?, texting au ] 𖥻 WORD COUNT ー [ 1.2k ] 𖥻 WARNINGS ー [ making out, long distanstance?, rumors, mentions of twitter - let me know if I missed anything ] 𖥻 AUTHORS NOTE ー [ anon requested, "could you, please write a story about kylian mbappe and a rapper reader who is like nicki minaj pls" personally, I loved this request and it got me listening to a lot of nicki's music again, and this was actually inspired by one of the queens iconic verses - so hope you like it. also sorry for the lack of posting I have been having major writers block and lack of inspo, hopefully I should get a lot more works out in the next 2-3 week ]

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The rumours were part of the job. Part of the job description is being a celebrity, and in many ways, it could both help and hinder you - especially if you were a woman. On the one hand, it could boost your career; on another, it could sink it faster than the Titanic. Y/N L/N, an influential rapper and singer, knew all too well the impact of having baseless rumours thrown at you. Her name was attached to everyone and anyone (at some point or another) with no rhyme, reason or proof. So it made sense that she chose to ignore most of them and focus on herself and her private life.

Yes, her private life was why everyone speculated, as people wondered who had stolen her heart. The rapper had stated that she was in a relationship multiple times but refused to specify with who as she wished for the relationship to remain private. But you know, the internet, they can't keep their noses out of other people's business. So naturally, the witch hunt began, and Twitter went up in flames every other day, trying to figure out who had captured the up-and-coming star's heart. No name was off-limits.

In the beginning, Y/N found all the hilarious speculation amusing, laughing about it with her friends (who were said to be possible love interests), but after a while, it started to get on her nerves. People were relentlessly holding on to the topic like a dog with a chew toy, and after six months and a discussion with her lover, she finally decided to put the rumours to rest - in style.

"Are you sure?" the rapper's close friend and manager Monica asked for the nth time of the night as they stood backstage. "I'm positive Mon. I've talked with Ky about it, and he agreed," the couple agreed they were going to reveal their relationship on one of the most important dates of the music calendar, the 67th Grammy Awards. But in a far more creative way than most normally would. As they say, nothing conveys emotions better than music.

"Now, welcome to the stage for her first-ever grammy performance Y/N L/N!" stepping out on stage, the air was heavy with tension as the crowd of fans and other music alumni were eager to see the artist who had been nominated for 5 Grammys preform. The lights dimmed, and the backup dancers got into their positions as the backtrack began to play.

"I never fucked Giroud. I never fucked Neymar. On my life, man, Fuck's sake. If I did, I'd menage with 'em, And let's eat my ass like a cupcake. My man full, he just ate, I don't duck nobody, But tape. Oh, and yeah, and by the way, my man's name is Kylian Mbappé." The audience was shocked at the freestyle rap, and the camera panned to the faces of other celebs to get their shocked reaction. The most notable one was that of the queen bee herself Beyoncé as she nodded in approval and bopped to the beat, while another memorable response was that of one of her best friends, Doja Cat, as she was losing it with laughter.

The freestyle then segued into her Grammy-nominated song Woman, as the flawless choreography and unforgettable spotlight moments made it one of the night's best performances. It ended in thunderous applause and multiple viral moments. As she walked backstage after the successful performance, she wiped off the thin layer of sweat from her forehead. She opened her phone to find it crowded with thousands of notifications, but the only ones she was only interested in were those from the love of her life - Kylian Mbappe.

KY KY

people are already talking lol by the way great performance mon ange your ass looked great on the carpet give me a private concert later?

Y/N only if you can keep up mon roi

KY KY you know I love it when you speak french ma reine

Y/N what can I say I have a great teacher

KY KY you know I can teach you so much more than french

Y/N really? I doubt it babe

KY KY come back home and I'll prove you so wrong mon amour

Y/N baby you know I can't I have press and shit to deal with

KY KY ik ik but a man can dream can't he

Y/N have fun entertaining yourself my dear

(5 photos attached) (2 videos attached)

KY KY your gonna get it when you get back

Another thing you should know about being a celebrity because it makes you an awfully good liar. Now there was no sinister intent behind Y/N lying to Kylian. The rapper just wanted to surprise him, so as she pulled into the new PSG training centre, she kept a relatively low profile as the new owner of five Grammys did not want to attract any unwanted attention. Walking to the reception, she was greeted by one of the coaching assistants and a few cameras. She had let them in on her plan to surprise her boyfriend, and in return for their help, they would get a video for their youtube channel.

As they walked towards the outdoor training area where the first team where hard at work, sure, they all looked hot, but Kylian was miles more than the others. Hot and sweaty, looking like some sex god rather than a Ligue 1 player. The number seven played a round of Tika taka with Neymar, Messi, Ramos, Hakimi and Veratti. He was oblivious to what was happening as Y/N slowly crept up behind him - placing a finger over your lips to tell his teammates to keep quiet after they noticed your presents.

"So Kylian, how's everything with your girl" Neymar, the little pot stirrer he is, had to milk this situation for its worth so that he could have something to tease his teammate with later. "Great man, I mean, god, she's perfect. I know it's a bit early to say, but I can see myself marrying her." safe to say everyone's hearts melted at the French player as he gushed over his girlfriend. Tried to hide, Y/N embraced her boyfriend in a hug from behind. "I love you too, Ky."

Turning around in shock, safe to say, Mbappe's eyes were larger than a football as he spun his girl in the air before kissing her. "What are you doing here? I thought you had work." the football star asked with nothing but love and affection as he buried his head in the crook of her neck. "I missed you. And I wanted to surprise you. Also, I lied." the rapper said, giggling at the look on his face. "Why you, little" With that, Kylian threw her over his shoulder and ran off with her as she screamed in fear and begged to be put down. Kylian refused.

As everyone watched the reunited couple get lost in their world, they couldn't help but smile at how happy the two made each other. "They are gonna get married," Ramos said, taking a sip of his water. "And I will be Kylian's best man," Neymar said jokingly. "Hate to break it to you, brother, but as long as I live and breath, that position is not available", Hakimi chimed in bluntly.

[happy-beeeps]

Stay.

Summary: When the weight of loss is too heavy for Wolffe to hold, you do your best to shoulder it for him.

WC: 1.1k

Pairing: Wolffe x gn!reader

CW: mentions of death, angst, loss, grieving, alcohol, brief descriptions of canon typical violence

It’s raining when he first shows up. The kind of rain that batters against your transparisteel windows and flashes lightning bright across your room in shattered, drawn out chunks. The concept of having such violent storms with an artificial weather system never really made sense to you, but you supposed whoever’s job it was to run it needed something to spice it up.

The 104th isn’t due to come to Coruscant until the morning, if they were lucky they’d be in late in the evening, and by the time Wolffe had finished briefings and set his gear down, it would be beyond reasonable hours to sneak his way to you. Instead, you did your very best to keep yourself busy, pouring yourself a glass of wine and tidying up your apartment. You’d taken his whole shore leave off of work, and you planned to spend it however he wanted. Wolffe wasn’t overly fond of crowds, but you’d spent dates at 79’s, Dex’s, or just in bed, wrapped up in each other and an overly fluffy comforter.

You allowed the fond memories to swim past your eyes–anything to not think about the fact that you hadn’t heard from him in nearly three rotations.

It wasn’t unusual, his squad was elite, stealthy. It didn’t make it any easier.

There’s another thundercrack, another spray of rain–then raps on your door. The unmistakable sound of hands on the smooth durasteel of your apartment door.

He’s not supposed to be here yet, you check your chrono to confirm. You haven’t even gotten a sip of your wine, and it’s only a few hours away from the dead of night, and there’s still no message from him. Still, it’s a knock at the door, and you’ve been to know to forget you’ve been shopping on the holo until a parcel arrives days later.

When you do finally make your way to the door–the knocks are incessant and quickening, and you hit your solicitor with a bitter “hold on a second!”--you throw it open, hair out of place and mouth pouting at the intrusion.

Wolffe… Wolffe is here. In front of you. In one piece, though accompanied by scratches and cuts, only a few with bacta patches or stitches. His shoulders are slunk low down his back, and he looks like he’s gripping your door jam for dear life.

He doesn’t say anything, not even when you murmur his name in surprise, eyes shooting up and almost welling with tears at the sight of him. He says nothing, but collapses into your arms in one fell motion, gripping your frame tight in his arms, tight enough that it nearly hurts, and sobs.

You’dve sooner bet on a rookie podracer from Mon Cala to win the Boonta Eve Classic than you’d expect to hear Wolffe sob. Now, you’d do anything to make it end. The sound makes you let out tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, and you understand the gravity of this past mission, and you hold him closer. Someone didn’t make it back.

You guide him backwards into your apartment and the door slides shut behind you, and in the stillness of the room he breaks even more, moving to sink down to his knees. You meet him, gripping him even closer, whispering quiet coos and “I’m here’s.” After what feels like eons of suffering, you’re in pain even thinking about how much pain he must be experiencing, he pulls back to look at you. His hands grip each of your cheeks, and you mirror his actions.

You attempt to lighten the mood. “I see two hands, two legs, two feet, one eye. I’ve got you back in one piece.”

He smiles but then shuts his eyes and shudders. “It should’ve been me. I’m the Commander. I’ve let them down.”

“Wolffe, stop, what do you mean? You came home, there’s no way you let anyone down.”

“No, you don’t get it,” he’s shaking his head now, gripping your face gently but with more pressure, as if he’s assuring himself he’s actually here. “They didn’t make it back.”

“Who, Wolffe who?”

His eyes are wide, tears escaping from even his mechanical eye–something you didn’t even know was possible–when he starts. “Mesh’la… Everyone.”

You don’t know how to respond. It feels like the wind has been sucked out of your chest with a vacuum. The tears are slowing now, you know no one hates to cry like Wolffe does, but he just looks numb. Lost. For nearly the first time in your relationship, you really don’t know what to do.

So you do your best.

It’s late, still raining, but you don’t care. You grab two ponchos from the closet by your door and drag Wolffe to the garage connected to your apartment. Your speeder, a sleek white with no roof, has often been your confidant when Wolffe was away. Maybe it will work with him.

The rain is pelting both of you when you peel out of the garage, blurring into the ever constant traffic of Coruscant. You like to fly, not recklessly, not fast, but just the monotony of flying keeps you focused. It’s easy to focus on nothing else but the lanes of traffic and the people around you. You’d contemplated letting Wolffe fly but decided against it—a decision you’re grateful for when you glance out the corner of your eye and see the way his knuckles whiten around their grip on your thigh, or how he stares so intensely out at the busy city.

You say nothing to him, and he says nothing to you. What is there to say to someone who just lost not only his brothers, but his squad. You know it isn’t his fault, there’s genuinely no way he could’ve avoided this, but you know he doesn’t feel that way. He’s going to bare those deaths of his brothers on his shoulders for the rest of his life, and you’ve taken your job to help carry the burden.

You finally ease into a slow, rounding descent towards your garage, and just before the neon bleeds out into the darkness of the space he murmurs out, quietly, “Thank you.”

The walk back to your apartment is still, but there’s less of the uneasiness of before. The weight is there, and it will be forever, but you think he’ll learn to carry it.

He’s quiet, shifting on his feet in front of your door. “I should go.”

“Or you could stay a little longer?”

And he does. Following your invitation he follows your hand back into your apartment, to your bed, and into your arms. You spend the rest of the evening tracing small circles onto his back and finally, when you’re certain he’s drifted asleep, you let yourself weep, thanking the maker that Wolffe came home.

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

NAMGI brothers who were hit hard by puberty 😩

[timchalamet-devoted]

The return of Lil Timmy Tim

A/N: I came up with this idea out of nowhere, but I absolutely love it! Oh how wish he would actually do this 🤧

Summary: Lil Timmy Tim makes a surprise comeback for his one and only.

Paring: fem reader x Timothée

Warnings: swearing, not proof read

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3 years. You could barely comprehend the number. 3 years ago, on this very day, your life changed forever. 3 years since you first looked into those green orbs, and fell in love. 3 years of love, adoration and memories with the person you kept closest to heart in this world. You created something so beautiful, so tender, a magnificent mess of feelings and experiences a precious secret that only you and Timmy knew of. It was unbelievable and exhilarating, and you knew you were the luckiest girl in the world.

You shut your eyes at the idea, breaking out into a serene smile.

Your surroundings buzzed with conversation as you waited for Timothée to return.

To celebrate this momentous occasion, you and Timothée planned an extravagant day out, with everything from the theatre ( feel free to imagine something else) to the fanciest of restaurants.

The time had come for the latter; you were seated at your favourite place, anticipating Timmy's return.

You recalled he mumbled something about the bathroom, however far too much time had passed, and concern starting to bubble in your stomach.

Searching for a distraction, you brandished your phone from your jacket's pocket, absentmindedly scrolling.

Not even a few seconds passed before your head snapped up at Timothée's familiar voice, followed by a wild uproar from the people around you.

You scanned the crowd for his figure, finally spotting him on a low stage, standing beside the small band that had provided the music for the evening.

Your brows furrowed, trying to piece together what this was. That was until the music started. Another wild roar, as your jaw dropped to the floor.

During the entirety of your 3 years together, you wouldn't dare bring up Timmy's old rap persona, and yet there he stood in the same shirt, and pink cap, microphone in hand.

You sat frozen to your spot, eyes nearly popping out of your head as he started to sing.

" TIMMAY, It's your boy Lil Timmy Tim, coming live from the G25,

Live from the G25!

Statistics (yup), statistics (yup, yup),

Statistics ( yup), Statistics (yup, yup)

Miss Lawton, Miss Lawton, Miss Lawton, Miss Lawton.."

Around you, everyone was taking out there phones, desperate to record this spectacle.

"Look at me, it's Timmy T

Bout to hit em with the Z-T-S-T

Let's do a problem, let us see

The probability you see me on TV

One, zero, zero, zero trillion percent,

I'm a statistical wonder, a statistical gem!"

The crowd had now joined in, rapping along, and understandably so.

" One in a zillion, bout to net a million

Fruity colours on these numbers, call it a chameleon!"

"Fuck it" it you muttered under your breath, before pushing your chair back with a loud screech and running up to accompany him on stage. This earned further cheer from the audience, as the cameras pointing at you multiplied.

"STATISTICS (YUP), STATISTICS (YUP, YUP)

STATISTICS (YUP), STATISTICS (YUP, YUP)!"

You rapped alongside him, proudly reciting the lyrics, for you had memorised them all a long time ago. The two of you could barely keep your composure, willing yourself as hard as you could not to burst. You gave in eventually, laughing uncontrollably as you finished.

Timmy grabbed your hand, doing an exageratadly low bow, before pulling you into a passionate kiss. You kissed back happily, grinning against his lips. You pulled away, pressing your foreheads together to look him in the eyes.

"Thank you" you whispered softly, your smile never leaving your features.

"Anything for you Mon Amour" He beamed, capturing your lips in his once more.

[bang-tan-bitches]

Title: Perfect Word Count: 1.5k+ Rating: NSFW  Genre: Smut or PWP, Mild Angst Warnings: Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie, Mild Come Eating, Praise Kink, Mild Dirty Talk Pairings: Namjoon x Reader Summary: You eye his face, trying to memorize how he looks at this moment. Beautiful and disheveled and yours. Written by: Admin B

You recognize his silhouette as soon as you step into the private room. Even though he is sitting in the shadows you would know that tall, lean figure anywhere. You now understand why the club owner insisted that the cameras be turned off. The fearless leader of BTS deserved to have some fun and not be sold out to the papers.  You decide to play ignorant and step up onto the small, circular glass table in front of him. You can tell by his sharp intake of breath that he notices how the spotlight has made the pale babydoll you were wearing absolutely transparent.

You can feel his eyes burning into you as you run your fingers from your stomach up to cup your breasts, your hips swaying slowly to the low music that is being filtered in through the speakers. You turn around and bend down, eyeing him over your shoulder as you slide your fingertips up your inner thighs.

You stand back up to your full height and continue watching him over your shoulder as you slowly slide the straps of your lingerie down your arms. You turn back around to face him and slowly unsnap the clasp between your breasts that hold the flimsy garment together,

“Stop.” His voice is hoarse, “Y/N Stop.”

You leave the clasp undone, but don’t pull open the fabric, “What are you doing here Joon?”

“We’ve been worried about you. We’ve all been worried about you. I’ve been…We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“No need to worry about me. I’m fine right where I am.”

Your eyes adjust to the dimness of the room and you can see the tense look on his face.

“Please,” He leans forward and reaches his hand out as if to touch you before stopping himself, “Please come back to the dorm.”

“I don’t think you came here to beg for me to come back. I think you came here for something else.”

“Why else would I be here?”

You smile and slide the garment off giving him a clear view of your naked chest, “I think you came here for a show.”

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, his eyes darting quickly between your breasts and your eyes. You step down from the stage and make your way closer to him, sliding your leg over his thigh and perching yourself on his lap.

“I know what you really came here for.” You whisper in his ear, trailing your fingers up his chest to rest loosely on his shoulders. “I know you used to watch me. I could feel your eyes on me all the time.”

You can feel him tense as you breathe softly against his ear, “You wanna know a secret?”

You feel his nod as he murmurs a low, “Yes.”

You nip his earlobe, “I liked it.”

Namjoon turns his head and catches your lips in a soft kiss. It’s sweet and a little unsure, before he deepens it, sliding his tongue into your mouth while gripping your ass to pull you against him.

He tastes like sin, decadent and dangerous. You press yourself closer until you’re straddling his thigh completely and you can feel the ache growing within you.

You pull away from his lips and trail soft, wet kisses down his throat while he slowly grinds you against his thigh. You can feel more than hear the groan that leaves him when you press your teeth against his adam’s apple.

“You’re beautiful. Absolutely perfect.” His voice is low and you can’t help but shiver at the honesty in his words. He sounds so earnest, like he truly believes what he’s saying. Your fingers quickly unbutton his shirt revealing more of his golden skin to your eager eyes.

“How the fuck could he leave you?”

The words cause you to still and you glance up to meet his eyes before you can help yourself. You can see the concern in them and quickly glance back down. You didn’t like to think about him. You didn’t like to think about how you were there for him before he became who he was. You didn't like to think about the soft sweet boy that you grew up with. The boy you loved. The boy that grew into a man.  The boy that got a taste of fame and decided you weren't what he wanted. The boy that found fan girls so eager to please. You didn’t like to think about any of it. You weren’t a member of BTS. You had no reason to be there. So you disappeared before you could be asked to leave. “No one left me.” You press a kiss to his lips trying to distract him, trying to distract yourself, “Do you love me Joon?”

“I do.” His dark eyes bore into yours, “I love you. I love everything about you.”

Your hands slide down to his belt and slowly start unbuckling it, “Will you show me how much you love me?”

“Anything you want baby girl.” His hands trail down your back, “I’ll do anything for you.”

You try not to flinch at the nickname and kiss him again while sliding down his zipper. You feel how hot and hard he is against your thigh. It’s been so long since you’ve felt wanted. So long since you’ve felt desire like this. You deserve this. Shifting up onto your knees, you pull your thong to the side before sliding down onto his thick length.

You both gasp at the sensation. You feel so full it’s bordering on painful and Joon is gripping your hips so tightly, you know you’ll have bruises. You keep still for a moment, just relishing in the feeling of him inside you.

“Sweetheart you’re so hot and wet.” 

You rest your hands on his shoulders and push yourself up until only his tip is inside you before sliding back down. He shudders and leans forward, running his tongue up your neck before meeting your mouth in a hungry kiss. 

You start a slow rhythm, wanting to feel every breath, every twitch, every shiver he can give you. He's beautiful in his desperation. His fingers run through your hair as he whimpers into your neck. 

“Fuck, I've wanted you for so long. Needed to feel your tight cunt around me.”

His words cause something inside you to burst. You grab his hand and slide it down to your clit rubbing his fingers against you. Your walls flutter and tighten causing him to swell even more. 

“Baby you’re so hard. You feel so good inside me.” You gasp into his mouth, grinding yourself against him. You can feel that he’s close. His breaths are coming faster and you can feel his body tensing.

“Are you gonna come inside me Joon? Mark me as yours? Fill me up so I’m dripping with you?

“Oh God.” His moan is deep as he holds you to him as tightly as he can. You can feel him pulsing inside you, filling you with thick, hot spurts of come. 

You continue riding him, sliding your fingers down to where you are joined and scooping up thick drops of his release that has spilled out of you. You rub your dripping fingers over his lips before he sucks your fingers into his mouth.

You pull your fingers out of his mouth and kiss him deeply, tasting his come all over his tongue. 

He pulls away from you slowly, his gorgeous brown eyes staring into yours with startling intensity, “Was that okay for you?”

You brush back the sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead and leave a soft kiss, “You were perfect.”

His dimpled smile is almost blinding. You slowly slide off of his lap and stand, fixing your thong in the process before picking up your discarded babydoll. Namjoon quickly stands up and starts redressing himself.

You turn to head for the door when he grabs your hand and pulls you back to look at him. 

“I love you. I've loved you for so long. You have to know I'd do anything for you. Please... Please come back to the dorm with me.”

“Let me think about it,“ You give him a small, tired smile, “Come back tomorrow and I'll give you my answer then.”

He nods and leans down to give you a soft, lingering kiss, “You're all I’ve ever wanted.”

The words cause a hollow ache in your chest. It's not the first time you've heard them spoken with such sincerity and you know this time won't have a happy ending either. 

You eye his face, trying to memorize how he looks at this moment. Beautiful and disheveled and yours.

“I'll see you tomorrow Namjoon.”

He smiles and watches you leave the room. It won't be until later when he's back at the dorm laying in bed that he'll realize his mistake.

By the time he makes it back to the club, you'll already be gone. 

[thebulletproofbangtanboys]

Dirty, Rich, Beautiful (Mafia Leader!Namjoon x Captive!Reader)

Summary: Being the leader of the Mafia is nice. It means you get all of the money while barely putting your life on the line. This is what Namjoon loved the most. After the boys come back with you as a prize from the mission, Namjoon loves his job even more.

Word Count: 6k

Genre: Smut, Angst

Warnings: blood, violence (not rape), guns, Dom!Joon, dirty talk, torture kink, orgasm denial, panty stuffing, unprotected sex, oral (male and female receiving), some Namgi

They say cigarettes kill. Causes cancer or some other bullshit like that. They are full of toxins and tar that could destroy the lungs and mouth and whatever else.

It wasn’t like Namjoon or any other member of the Bangtan gang cared. Any of them would be lucky to live long enough to develop cancer from their habit. Between the constant gun fights with members from other gangs and illegal shit they did, it was only a short matter of time until one of them was killed. Besides, smoking was one of the few luxuries they had. The moment the cigarette met a member’s lips, they instantly felt at ease. It was as if their brain had already correlated the simple shape and feel of the cigarette with the comfort that the chemicals gave. To some, it was better than any other drug out there.

Namjoon thought all about this as he took the final drag of the cigarette, the cherry contrasting against the darkness of night that had settled on Seoul several hours before. He snuffed the butt of the cigarette in a crystal ashtray that sat on the marble balcony railing. Reveling in the thickness of the cigarette smoke, Namjoon looked on at the city.

The Bangtan mansion was situated high up on the outskirts of Seoul, so the city buildings looked like large, twinkling lights off in the distance. Somewhere out there in the midst of the city was Jungkook, Taehyung, and Hoseok. Namjoon had sent them out on an infiltration mission against their main rival gang: EXO.

About a week ago, the gang had received a letter in the mail with no return address. The letter was typed, not handwritten. It included some information on EXO and their plans to attack the Bangtan mansion. It also mentioned how EXO was going to attack and when.

Namjoon wasn’t quite certain if he should trust the letter or not. There was no return address, so he wasn’t sure if it was a reliable source. Besides, why would some unknown person send them this kind of information? Either way, Namjoon knew that he was not going to take any chances. He at once started devising a plan to infiltrate and destruct the EXO fortress before they had a chance to attack Bangtan’s. The plan was to barge in and kill as many members as possible all the while taking in prisoners. Hopefully, it was a plan that Taehyung, Jungkook, and Hoseok could pull off and come back from alive.

The air became chilly as Namjoon stood out on the balcony longer than intended. He shivered lightly before deciding to head back inside where the air was warmer. As he closed the door to the balcony, a final shiver of cold was sent up and down his spine, making him twitch slightly. He sighed lightly before heading downstairs. Walking down the large stone staircase, Namjoon saw Yoongi enter the mansion through the elegantly designed wooden, steel-centered front doors. He had just come back from a drug deal. He was the lead drug dealer of the group after all.

Yoongi looked up at Namjoon when he noticed the leader coming down the stairs. “Are the three back yet?” he asked, sticking his hands in his jacket pocket.

Namjoon shook his head. “Not yet. I haven’t heard from them, either, but all three of their trackers are still on, so at least we know that they are still alive. Jimin is still at the club with Jin scoping out some people to sell on the site. They shouldn’t be back until later, so it’s just going to be us for a while.”

Yoongi gave him a questioning look, and Namjoon just smirked. It wasn’t like the two were dating, more just like friends with benefits. Yoongi had a huge crush on Hoseok but was just too nervous to say anything, so Namjoon was just kind of a way for Yoongi to relieve all of his sexual tension. Don’t get me wrong, Yoongi was definitely attracted to Namjoon, and that was quite clear by the current hardening of his dick. Namjoon could tell that his smirk sent the right message as he saw the way Yoongi’s pants tightened over the growing length.

It wasn’t long until Namjoon was thrusting into Yoongi, both of them panting with sweat glistening their skin. The sweat made them look like they were made out of the finest jewels known to man. Moans and heavy breathing and slapping of skin against skin filled the otherwise silent room.

This went on for hours and several rounds. Afterwards, the two lay in Yoongi’s bed, both smoking their almost ritualistic after-sex joint. Foul smelling smoke filled the large room, and they sat in silence. Well, it was silent until the sound of the heavy front doors being slammed filled the empty halls of the mansion. It was then followed by the sounds of struggling and a female yelling. It seemed as if one of the groups of boys were back from their mission.

Namjoon sighed and looked over at Yoongi, giving him an apologetic look. He handed the joint to Yoongi before tossing the cream color duvet off of his legs. He quickly changed back into his navy business suit attire that was now wrinkled from laying on the ground for the many hours the two were fucking around. As he was buckling his belt, he heard a large crash come from downstairs like a vase had been knocked off of a pedestal and shattered on the ground. Namjoon huffed in aggravation and stuck his handgun in his waistband before swinging the door to Yoongi’s room wide open and marching out.

He made his way down the stone steps, almost slipping on one of them in the process. It wasn’t normal for Jimin and Jin to bring back a girl who wasn’t drugged and passed the fuck out, and all of EXO’s members and ally gangs were male, so Namjoon was quite confused by the ruckus. Unless EXO had some prostitutes at their mansion, there was no reason for them to have females over. Even then, why would the trio have brought back a simple prostitute? Unless…she wasn’t just a simple whore.

The screaming became quieter as the woman was brought further into the house. When Namjoon heard yet another door slam shut and the screaming cease altogether, he knew that this person was currently being brought down to the basement. The basement was where the interrogation room and cells were held after all.

Namjoon stopped at the end of the stairs, now contemplating whether or not he should go ahead and investigate. Maybe he should leave whichever group brought her here alone, so they could deal with her however they seemed fit. On the other hand, it was quite an uncommon feat for a captive to come back conscious.

The leader straightened out his suit jacket and walked towards the basement door. He decided that whatever he heard on the other side was going to determine what step he was going to take next. He put his ear up to the door and put a finger to his lips when he saw Yoongi walking up to him. Something then banged up against the basement door, startling Namjoon and making him jump back in surprise. Yoongi’s chocolate brown eyes widened at the scene before him. The two of them then heard yelling and more struggling on the other side of the door.

“Settle down, you fucking bitch!” the two of them heard Taehyung yell.

Apparently, it was the raid group that had come back with a prisoner. But, why would they bring one back that was female and not drugged? Namjoon needed answers, so he swung the thick, metal basement door open, pulled his handgun out of his waistband, and what he saw was not quite what he expected.

Inside was Taehyung, Jungkook, Hoseok and some female figure. Hoseok was the one who had obviously been thrown up against the door. He was laying on the ground a few feet away from the bottom of the stairs, clutching his shin with one hand and his shoulder with the other. Taehyung’s nose was bleeding profusely, clearly broken. Namjoon couldn’t see much of his nose since Taehyung was covering it, but through the slight space between his bloodied fingers, Namjoon could tell that Taehyung’s nose was now in an odd angle. Jungkook was holding the figure, clad fully in black, back by hooking his arms around the figure’s elbows. You tried to take a lunge at Taehyung, so Jungkook just took you to the ground. He sat on your back and moved your arms onto her back in a seemingly painful position.

“What the hell happened here?” Namjoon asked, raising his voice almost to a yell and lowering the gun.

All four people looked up to where the sudden, loud sound came from. The boys gave almost scared looks while you took the chance and used your strength to roll over, knocking Jungkook off of your back. In the process, you brought your left foot up and rammed the heel of it into Jungkook’s stomach, knocking the air out of him. You quickly stood up, but, despite being breathless, Jungkook took a hold of your ankle and pulled, knocking you back to the ground with him. You hit your chin on the hard floor, and it made your head start spinning and go fuzzy, quite like a blizzard in the Arctics.

By this time, Namjoon had made his way down the wooden steps and taken a hold of you. In one hand, he held the back of your shirt tightly, almost choking you with it. In the other, he held a fistful of your hair. Your scalp now felt like it was on fire, but you were still so out of it, you couldn’t really fight. In what little way your mind could come up with to defend yourself, you made your body go limp. This made your body heavier with dead weight, but this in return just made Namjoon pull harder on your hair and shirt. The only other thing your mind could think of was to actually cooperate, so that’s what you did…reluctantly and in a bitch way of course.

You were suddenly shoved, and you fell into a heap, twisting yourself in the process. How the hell did you go from a fighting badass to a rag doll being thrown around in a matter of seconds? Oh, yeah. The damn floor, which you were now on. The floor and you had never been friends. You were always tripping over your own feet or slipping down or up stairs. Either way, you always ended up on the floor. So, it was only logical that the floor would be your downfall in this case, no pun intended.

You looked up at Namjoon with a glare as he squatted down on the ground next to you. He glared back at you with his dark, demeaning eyes. He lightly traced a finger up your cheek before lacing his hands through your hair again. Then, a sharp pain crackled through your forehead, rippling through your skull, and everything was black.

After Namjoon had knocked you out by slamming your head into the floor, he placed his large hands on his knees and stood up. He then proceeded to drag your unconscious body across the cell and shackled your wrists to the wall. He looked at your now laid-back figure and huffed before walking out of the tightly barred cell.

A few feet later, he turned around and closed a large door that was built just like every other door in the house: metal encased with wood. This door was used to separate the cell and interrogation room from the rest of the basement. It was also used to provide an extra barrier between the captive and the outside just in case they were to escape.

Once Namjoon bolted the door shut, he turned on his heel to face the three members who had brought you in. Hoseok was sitting with his back up against the wall, still in pain. Jungkook was standing upright, clutching his stomach. Taehyung now had a jacket, Yoongi’s it seemed, held up to his nose to help capture the blood that still trickled out. Yoongi had since left the room, probably assisting Jin and Jimin with pictures of the people they had brought back for the black market; that is, if they had come back already. Namjoon glared daggers at the infiltration team.

“What the hell was that all about?” he asked sternly.

All three stayed quiet. They glanced at each other, wondering who was going to answer the somewhat tricky question. Namjoon huffed, realizing that none of them were going to actually answer him.

“Jungkook,” he shot, calling on the youngest member.

Jungkook sighed before straightening himself a little. He took a shaky breath as he was still trying to recover from the hard kick you administered to him not too long ago. “We did what you asked, Namjoon,” Jungkook sassed.

“You obviously didn’t follow procedure, though. She wasn’t drugged. You know how important it is to bring captives back unconscious. You practically gave away our location!” Namjoon shouted, getting angry.

“Look. We tried. We tried everything! But it seems like this girl immune to damn near everything. The entire ride back, we had her blindfolded, and Hoseok kept her down, so it’s not like she saw where we were going.”

“You know just as well as I do that any good spy or gang member memorizes the routes and distances. Hell! I taught you all that myself!” Namjoon threw his hands up in the air. He was now pacing the basement floor. “This is the exact reason why we do not bring captives back to the mansion unless they are unconscious! The rules aren’t just there for you follow them when you please! You follow them at all times, no matter what!”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?! We tried every drug we had, and she still wouldn’t go down! What else were we supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, maybe knock her the fuck out the old fashioned way?!”

Namjoon was absolutely furious at this point. His face had turned a bright shade of pink, and his dark eyes had turned darker, almost to the point of looking demonic. It wasn’t often Namjoon got royally pissed, but when he did, he was one of the scariest people on the planet.

“You three, just go the fuck back upstairs and fix yourselves up,” Namjoon growled.

The three looked at him pitifully before making their way up the basement stairs. Namjoon hated treating them that way. They were like brothers to him. But he was the leader of their gang. And rules were rules, and when they were broken, Namjoon had to make sure they wouldn’t do it again. He sighed to himself as he heard the basement door slam shut and click into place. He placed his hands inside of his suit pant pockets and sighed. He moved his mind from the boys to the girl who was now in their cell.

She was a mysterious one, that was for sure. First off, she was a female affiliating herself with EXO. As mentioned earlier, the only females that associated themselves with that gang were whores and spies. Secondly, she was apparently immune to all tranquilizers. The only way to put her out was through brute force. No prostitute would be immune to tranquilizers. That only left her to be a spy. But a spy for whom and why? Was she hired for or by EXO? Why was she in their mansion? What was her importance?

Namjoon pondered this, just staring at the thick door on the other side of the basement. He shook his head as if to erase his thoughts. He knew by the force he put behind the hit, you would be out for a while. He made his way up the stairs, hands still in pockets.

Early the next morning, Namjoon woke up to the sound of screaming. He scrunched his eyes and moved his pillow from underneath his head to on top of his exposed ear. It seemed to block out the noise, and just as he was started to drift off to sleep again, he heard the screams once more. He threw the memory foam pillow to the side and groaned heavily. He got up and stomped out of his room, making his way towards the basement.

As he walked closer to the basement door, sure enough, the screaming and yelling grew louder. Through the heavy doors, no sounds from behind them should be able to be heard anywhere in the mansion, nevertheless upstairs. He swung open the door open and instantly noticed the door to the interrogation room and the cell was slightly open.

He walked forward, his stride long and heavy before pushing the door open. Inside, he saw you chained to the floor while sitting in a chair at the interrogation table with Yoongi sitting in a chair directly opposite to you.

You were screaming at Yoongi, your face beet red with anger. However, you stopped as soon as you saw Namjoon in the doorway. As Yoongi noticed the sudden change in your demeanor, he turned around in his chair.

“Namjoon,” he simply said.

“What is all the ruckus about? It’s five in the morning!” Namjoon exclaimed.

“Nothing. I was just leaving.” Yoongi glared at you as he stood up from his seat.

“Good!” you shouted at him. “I never want to see your fuck-ass face again!”

Yoongi glared at you once more before moving past Namjoon to exit the basement. The leader watched as the second eldest member left the room before turning to you and taking Yoongi’s seat.

“Want to explain to me why I was woken up to screaming at an ungodly hour?” Namjoon hissed.

You built up saliva in your mouth before spitting a wad of it at his face in response. Namjoon was taken aback for a second before using the sleeve of his pajamas to wipe it away. He gave the now wet sleeve a disgusted look before he saw your own satisfied look. He stood up and instantly backhanded your face, making a cracking sound reverberate throughout the room. Your head turned at a sharp angle, and you sat there in shock for a second before slowly turning your head back to him.

A devious smirk was placed upon your lips, and you said, “Ooo. Kinky.” You gave out a laugh that would have most people worried about your mental health. You quickly silenced yourself before saying, “If you think you can hurt me that easily, you’re hilarious.”

Namjoon sat back down in his seat and leaned back in it, one arm resting on the back of the chair, the other stretched out before him on the table. “Well, considering it only took one hit to the head to knock you out last night, I would say otherwise.”

You shrugged. “I was tired after beating the dumbasses.”

Namjoon huffed. “So, we have a smartass on our hands,” he whispered to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked back up at you, placing his hand back onto the edge of the cold, metal table. “Well, since you have already woken me up and there is no way in hell I’ll be able to get back to sleep, how about we get this shit out of the way. So, why were you with EXO? What use to them were you?”

You leaned back in your seat and crossed your shackled arms across your chest. “I don’t think that that is any of your business.”

“Considering you are at my mercy at the moment, it would be in your best interest to not piss me off any more than you already have.”

“I’ve been told it’s a specialty of mine. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it.”

“Guess you leave me with no choice then.”

Namjoon stood up from his chair and walked over to you. He stooped down and unclasped your chains from the hooks in the floor. You watched him with interest. He was attractive, you decided. His face was small, rounded, and cute, almost like a baby’s face. His nose was wide and short, and his lips were plump. His hair, still mussed up from sleeping, was a dusty brown color. The vibe around him made you want to kiss those lips and run your fingers through his hair. This vibe of his was…dominant, strong, sexual. You loved it, and you wanted it all for yourself.

When he was done unhooking your chains from the floor, he yanked on them, making you fall out of your chair and onto the floor. You were now on your hands and knees, and Namjoon felt his dick twitch in the slightest as he saw you in this position. He quickly disregarded the thought. You were a fucking prisoner. One he just met yesterday at that. Besides, Yoongi fulfilled his sexual needs when necessary.

He yanked on your chains, signaling for you to get up. You did and shuffled behind him as he brought you over to a wall about fifteen feet back. There were hooks over there as well, but instead of them being on the floor, they were on the wall. One of the hooks, you noticed as you were brought up to the wall, was almost an arm’s length above your head. The other two hooks were lower on the wall, about ankle height, but they were roughly two feet apart from each other.

Namjoon took the shackles on your wrists and hooked them first. Next, he took the chains connecting your wrist and ankle shackles off, along with the chain that connected your ankles. Finally, he forcefully locked your ankles to the wall.

Surprisingly, you didn’t try to fight back as he did this. Then again, there had been plenty of times during sex that you had been tied up, so you guess you could say that this was almost a comfort to you. So much of a comfort that you could feel yourself growing wet in between your legs.

Behind you, you could hear Namjoon opening a door to what could possibly be a closet. Next came the sound of rustling of boxes, a small crash, some curses, and the slam of the door. You then heard the box being dropped on the table the two of you were at just moments before. There was some more rustling around and then the sound of footsteps coming up to you.

“Having troubles over there – ah!” you shouted as the unexpected crack of a flogger hit you across your back.

It didn’t hurt. In fact, you barely even felt it because of your thick shirt. It was more of a shock than anything else.

“I’ll be the one asking the questions here, alright,” Namjoon stated as-a-matter-of-factly. “Now, what is your affiliation to EXO?”

“As I have already told you before, it is none of your business.”

The flogger was hit against you back once more as a punishment of your retaliation, but you just stood there, completely unfazed. Namjoon seemed to have noticed this and placed the flogger on the table. He then came back up to you and took a hold of the collar of your shirt, right at the base of your neck. You thought that there was no way in hell he was going to be able to rip it off of you since the material was thick and well-made. However, you were proven wrong. In one fell swoop, your shirt was completely torn in half. Your back was now completely exposed, saved for your bra, which was quickly unclasped.

“Now,” Namjoon started, “I’m going to ask you one last time: what were you doing with EXO?”

“And I’m going to tell you one last time: it is none of your goddamn business.”

After what only seemed like a few milliseconds, your back was struck once more. This time, you felt every strip of leather hit you individually. It was painful, and most people would have found that discouraging, but it sent you on a sexual high. You moaned in pleasure as the initial sting softened and spread.

Namjoon noticed this loud, sex-filled moan come from your mouth, and he felt his dick twitch for the second time that morning. He stood there for a moment in thought before hitting your back once more. Since the hit was unexpected, your senses sky-rocketed at a much higher rate than they did before. This in return made your moan much louder than before, only to be followed by an erotic “fuck” spilling from your lips.

What Namjoon now felt was not only his dick twitching, but it was now growing harder, slowly tenting the front of his grey sweatpants. The wetness that was accumulating between your spread legs was just as bad.

“Hm? So you like this kind of thing then? To be whipped? Tied up? Spanked?” he asked, sultriness dripping from his words. He reared his hand back before forcefully slapping your ass.

You responded with a gasp mixed with a higher pitched moan. Namjoon’s hand didn’t leave your ass. Instead, he gave it a strong squeeze before he pressed his chest to your back. His chin was just above your left shoulder. You could feel his breath on your neck. You moved your chin, so you could see his face.

Your eyes met his. They held a different vibe than last night. Right now, they were dominant and lustful. The temptation was all too strong, and you leaned a little bit to crash your lips against his. To your surprise, he kissed back just as ferociously.

Soon, the two of you were having a heavy make-out session. The two of you forgot your standings: him a gang leader and you a captive. All that was on either of your minds was the building passion between the two of you. You were so lost in it. The feel of his soft lips on yours, his teeth grazing your lip with an occasional tug, the heavy breathing, the temperature of the room rising, and most of all: the heavy need for him to be inside of you.

Namjoon was feeling the exact same way. His once lightly twitching cock was now fully raging in his pants. However, before he was to put his dick in you, he secretly wanted to know how strong your blowing game was. He broke the bond between his lips and yours.

“I’m going to unshackle you now, but don’t get any smart ideas. You’ll be chained back up again soon,” he harshly whispered into your ear.

You were breathing deeply, finally able to consume some air that his lips had deprived from you. Your head was so dizzy from the lack of oxygen and amazement at what this man’s lips could do that you just simply nodded. You were in such a faze that you didn’t think you could escape even if you tried. Besides, he said you would be bound again once more, and you knew you liked that no matter what circumstance it was in.

Namjoon stretched his hands above your head and detached you from the wall. He did the same with your feet. He grabbed onto your arm with a firm grip and turned you around to face him. Your bra and shirt were now hanging helplessly at your wrists, putting your breasts on full display. Namjoon glanced down at your breasts and smirked to himself.

He looked back up at you, straight into your eyes, and he began to play with the drawstrings of his pants. “Get on your knees,” he demanded.

You instantly dropped to the floor, removing your torn pieces of clothing, and you came face-to-face with a large bulge in his pants. Namjoon pulled his pants down to his ankles, and you were greeted by the thickest, longest, angriest cock you had ever seen in your life. You licked your lips unconsciously.

“Do you want to suck it, slut?” Namjoon asked.

You simply just nodded as you reached your hand out and wrapped it around his dick. It was soft to the touch, but you could feel the hardened tissue right underneath. You were almost mesmerized by it.

You pumped your hand around his dick a few times. It was textured by veins, but it was still smooth to the touch. The slit at the head of his dick was already leaking precum. You took your thumb and spread the clearish, sticky liquid over the head. You then stuck out your tongue and ran the tip of it on the vein that was on the underside of his dick.

Namjoon breathed in deeply as you did this. You had barely even started your adventure with his dick, and you already had him this riled up. Not even Yoongi was able to get him going this badly so quickly, and Yoongi knew what a guy wanted since he himself had a dick.

Once you reached the base of his dick, you flattened out your tongue and ran it back up towards the head. The moment you made it back to the head you wrapped your lips around it. His dick was so ungodly thick that you thought you were going to have to unhinge your jaw like a snake. After adjusting your position on the floor, you dipped your head further down onto his length. Just as you thought, you could barely fit half of him in your mouth, even deep-throating him. You took whatever you couldn’t take in your mouth into your hand, and you began to bob your head slowly, your hand following rhythm.

Namjoon could feel his legs beginning to weaken under your touch. His lower abdomen was going into sensory overload as he felt himself getting closer and closer to bursting, but he wouldn’t allow that. Not yet. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled, causing you to gasp and pull off of him. Some saliva that connected your lips with the tip of his dick broke away, and it now dribbled down your chin.

“Such a messy little whore,” Namjoon muttered before stripping himself of his simple black t-shirt and practically threw it at you.

You wiped your chin before tossing it to the side. You stayed on your knees, looking up at him. He was obviously a huge dom, and when it came down to things, you were a pretty big sub. You knew how things went with doms like him, so you kept your stance, not wanting to upset him.

“Take off the rest of your clothes,” he suddenly demanded.

It almost startled you, making your heart skip a beat. Despite your now racing heart, you stood up. You slipped your pants and panties off, not losing eye contact with Namjoon for a single second. Now, you two were in the complete nude, especially since Namjoon had stepped out of his sweatpants.

Namjoon grabbed onto your right upper arm and led you back to the wall where the shackles were. He nearly slammed you against the wall, causing your back to tingle at the sudden cold. He forcefully began to re-shackle both of your wrists and ankles. However, this time, instead of facing the wall, you were facing the rest of the room. Namjoon took a step back and looked you over and licked his lips. He bent down and picked up the panties you had discarded just moments before. He walked back over to you, and his panty-free hand slipped between your open legs. His fingers entered your soaking folds.

“Such a wet slut. This should be good,” he said gruffly,

He himself now got on his knees, which honestly surprised you. It wasn’t often a dom such as him pleasured you like this, especially when they had such a raging hard-on like Namjoon did. He pushed his fingers further into your folds, entering your core. You moaned in pleasure at the two fingers that had entered you. He pumped his fingers just like you had pumped your hand earlier. Your moans grew louder as he entered a third finger. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, his lips came in contact with your clit, and he started licking and sucking on it. Your moans were almost screams now.

“Namjoon, I-I,” you started.

The man in question suddenly pulled off and out of you. He leaned back on his heels. “You’re not allowed to cum until I say so. You got that, slut?” he asked. You swallowed and gave a simple nod. “Good.”

He then took the panties, which he still had in his hand, and slowly began to put it into you, practically replacing the emptiness which filled you after his fingers left. He stuffed you full, and only a small bit of panty was left to see the light of the room. Namjoon stood up and walked back towards the box on the table. As he was rifling through it, you gazed at him.

His ass was beautiful. More beautifully shaped than most girl’s asses you had seen over the years. His thighs were nice and thick, too. It would have been an honor to ride them, but you were a bit tied up at the moment. His back and arms and everything about him were muscular. Being a gang boss kind of demanded being fit after all.

After a moment, Namjoon pulled something out of the box, but you couldn’t see what it was right off the bat. When he turned around, you could clearly see what he held in his hands: a bright purple hand-held vibrator. You felt yourself get wetter and quiver slightly at the sight.

When he came up you, Namjoon turned the vibrator on the second lowest setting and trailed it lightly between your breasts, circled it around your nipples, and lowered it down to your yearning clit. The moment it hit your bundle of nerves, you let out a high-pitched moan. It felt so good. Euphoric even. Within just seconds, you were ready hit your climax. Apparently, Namjoon sensed this and took the vibrator off of your clit. You whimpered at the sudden loss of stimulus.

“No cumming unless I say so, remember?” Namjoon asked before giving your clit a smack.

You yelped in response. Namjoon turned the vibrator off and laid it on his heap of clothes a few feet away. He then removed the panties from you. They had soaked up most of your juices, but you were still surprisingly quite wet. Namjoon could see this by the glistening of your womanhood. He smirked to himself.

“I’m going to fuck you now like the whore you are,” he whispered in your ear as he gave his throbbing cock a few pumps of the hand.

He then lined himself up with your entrance and entered slowly. You both groaned at the feeling. The way he stretched you at gave a slight burn, but it was a good kind of burn. He easily reached your very core with how long his dick was. He then pulled out almost completely before thrusting back into you with great force. This instantly made your knees weak. If it hadn’t been for your wrists being shackled above your head, you would have surely crumpled to the ground. His pace has fast and hard, and you were loving every second of it.

Your breasts bounced with every thrust he gave. At one point, Namjoon decided to latch onto one of your breasts with his mouth. He sucked and licked it with such profession that the feeling in itself could have sent you over the edge.

You began whimpering once again. You wanted to release so badly but you couldn’t. You weren’t allowed to.

“Namjoon,” you panted and moaned. “Please. I want to cum. I need to.”

“Then cum,” he stated.

You let out the most pornographic moan that had ever left your lips. Your legs shook underneath you, and you felt yourself release. A few seconds later, you felt Namjoon cum inside of you. The feeling was wet and sticky, but the feeling was still blissful. The two of you rode out your highs, and you and Namjoon were left in panting messes. He pulled out of you and stepped away.

After the two of you caught your breaths, and he redressed, he asked you, “So, you want to tell me about you being with EXO now?”

You sighed. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever. I was fulfilling a favor for my brother.”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah. My brother. You might now him. He happens to be in your gang. He goes by Min Yoongi.”

“Min Yoongi is your brother?!”

Oh, shit.

[ace-angel-judas]

Will You Accept me?

Part of the SoulMate Series: Namjoon, Suga, Taehyung, JungKook, Jimin, Jhope, Jin 

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader (Soulmate Au, Mafia Au)

Story line: Will you accept him, knowing fully what he is?

When you first got your soul mate mark, you were ecstatic. You loved the complex design on the wings that flowed down your back, it made you think of your soul mate as a complex person with details to forever discover.

Namjoon wasn’t any different, he woke up on his twelfth birthday, staring at the beautiful sun that was now beaming across the middle of his chest. It made him feel warm and protected, even as he ventured further into the dark life he leads, he knew he had a light out there for him.

You met Namjoon during the summer while visiting the park, you just needed some fresh air seeing as your soul mark had been sending shivers down your spine all week. Namjoon felt the same, the constant warm spread in chest for the week had him sweating constantly but he knew it was almost time. You had run into Namjoon, quite literally.

You had your head stuck in a book, which probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do seeing as you were walking and Namjoon had been focusing on his phone. You both smashed into each other, you hit his chest and he fell forward as your legs got tangled, resulting in him landing on top of you.

Your eyes met and it all clicked, Namjoon had no idea how long the both of you had been gawking at each other until your eyes glanced at your book. It had been a gift from your grandmother and it had been one of kind, you had read the book millions of times but as you quickly pushed Namjoon off to pick up the book, you realized that the spine had been torn.

Namjoon was shocked when you pushed him off, was he not what you expected? You had been a thousand times better then he expected. When he realized that you were now sobbing over the book, he moved over to you and placed his hand on yours.

“I’m sorry,” He spoke.

“No, No,” You sniffled, “It’s an old book, I’ll just...,”

You had no idea what to do, you didn’t have the money for it to be fixed so you guessed you would just have to keep it in safe keeping for now.

“I can pay to repair it,” Namjoon smiled, “After all, you are my soulmate,”

You looked up at him, almost shocked at his offer. You guessed that was your first date with Kim Namjoon, the both of you laughing and getting to know each other while he paid for the book to be repaired.

You never knew who he truly was.

No matter the amounts of time you spend with him, you never noticed how sometimes he’d check his phone and his aura would change the slightest bit or when the two of you were out in public, he would glance around almost anxiously when you were paying attention.

You never picked up on how in the six month you knew this amazing, smart and detailed man, you had never heard him talk about his work much, family or even been to his house. The first time he had ever stayed the night, you were in too much bliss and pleasure to notice the scars. The circular scar on his right shoulder, just below his collar bone or the scar on his side.

The expensive gifts or one of a kind books that had no been added to your collection, you had no idea where he got such money from.

It took for one night, as you were walking home from your part time job late at night, for you to be woken up to your soul mate’s real life. A hand had covered your mouth and you were dragged away, something smashing against your head as the world turn black.

You were confused when you woke up, being tied to a chair in a dimly lit room. You had no idea why you were there, you didn’t have any money, your parents weren’t rich either. The man who was staring you in the eyes looked like a rat, he had a horrible comb over and rings on his fingers.

“Hello (Y/N),” He grinned.

“Please let me go,” You pleaded in a small voice, “I don’t have money,”

“I don’t need money,” He laughed, “I need information,”

You were silent, What information? You were from a quiet town and moved to the city because you wanted to be a writer, what could you possibly give him?

“About Kim Namjoon,” He smirked.

“He’s my soulmate...,” You whispered, “What’s he got to do with any of this?”

He could see your obvious innocence, it made him laugh. It made sense, if you flew too close to the sun then your wings would be burnt.

He raised his hand and slapped you across the face, his rings cut into your soft flesh before he pulled out his phone, dialing a number. You but your lip, tears slipped down your face and as the blood dripped down your face.

“Hello?”

Namjoon...

“Hello Kim,” The man chuckled.

“What do you want?” Namjoon sounded different, almost dangerous.

“I think the question is do you want it?” He laughed, “A little (E/C) girl with wings on her back,”

The line was silent, and you felt your heart stop, did he not care?

“Joonie...?” You whispered, your voice fearful and heart broken almost.

The phone call ended, and you swallowed thickly, you guessed he didn’t care.

Namjoon gripped the phone in his hand tightly, the screen smashed before he threw it across the room. He hadn’t been able to get a hold of you for the last day, Namjoon pondered if he had done something wrong and he had. Your life was on the line now, he couldn’t risk it.

You didn’t know how long you had been kept in that room for, it smelt stale and death-like. Maybe you would die there, with no soul mate who loved you. The man would come, you weren’t sure how much time passed between your visits, but he was constantly trying to pry information you didn’t know from you.

The sound of yells and gun shots alerted you awake, the door slammed open and a man with a gun walked in, you squirmed slightly as he pulled out a knife. He had brown hair and matching eyes, he was probably here to kill you.

You were surprised when the ropes keeping you in the chair were cut and he was helping you out of the chair.

“Can you walk?” He asked in a soft voice.

You only nodded as a reply.

He kept a hand on your back as the two of you began to walk, you rubbed your wrists that were raw from rubbing, your legs shaking slightly. You were lead into a large room, there were multiple bodies around the ground and you stumbled back, tears filling your eyes as you witnessed such a large amount of death.

The scene in front of you scared you, six males were standing in a circle with the rat man in the center, you noticed the familiar head of blonde hair that was taller then the rest. He had gun out, pointing it at the rat man in the center.

“Joon,” The man leading you spoke.

Namjoon’s eyes looked towards you, his eyes spoke a thousand words. He had some blood splattered over his face, his blonde hair was a mess and he slowly slipped away his gun.

“Suga,” Namjoon spoke, no, commanded.

An ice blue haired man stepped forward, he had a rose soul mark across his neck and he pulled a knife from his waist. Namjoon had your face pressed into his chest before you could see the man’s next actions, you didn’t hug Namjoon back as he wrapped his arms around you and placed a long kiss to your hair line.

You were too scared, this was a complete different man to the one you had run into at the park or the one who continued to apologize the night after he had accidently broken your bed. Namjoon noticed your frightened frame, he moved you away from the situation, his hands cupping his face as he spoke.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, “I didn’t know how to tell you, this isn’t ideal...,”

“Ideal...?” You whispered, your voice broke, “Namjoon..., you’re a mafia leader,”

Namjoon’s heart shattered, you had never used his full name in all knowing him.

“Please,” He whispered, “Will you accept me?”

[davinashifts333]

sugar daddy namjoon😌

okay this REALLY made me think but i initially loved the idea, hope this was good.

WHAT NAMJOON BEING YOUR SUGAR DADDY WOULD BE LIKE:

⚫️summary; basically just headcanons of you being Kim Namjoon’s sugar baby. 🥹

⚠️warnings; implied smut, sugar daddy/sugar baby established relationship, swearing, sex for gifts/money/etc. 18+ please go away. thanks.

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-when Namjoon, or as he likes you to call him, Mr. Kim first asked you to be his sugar baby he had no idea he would genuinely prefer spending time with you over his wife.

-after 3 months he divorced his wife to be with you full time. still never establishing a serious relationship but knowing you were his & he was yours.

-he showers you with gifts, jewels, rings, dresses with crystals embedded in the lining, heels with diamonds & accessories GALORE.

-he LOVES to hear you call him; Daddy, Mr. Kim, Daddy Mon, Mr. Monster, Namjoon, etc. he especially likes when you scream his name but that’s for a more private setting.

-Namjoon as a sugar daddy is so demanding yet so sweet. he hated the idea of people claiming you were just a whore or his personal sex toy… which you kind of were but you genuinely cared for one another…

-the Bangtan boys often hear your late night shenanigans so when they see you leaving they always tease you.

“byeeee Y/n, hope you had a fun night! 👀”

-Namjoon never expects it but seeing as he’s a dominant man he would do anything for you, he’s even let you take control sometimes, mostly ending the night with him punishing you for edging him so much.

-the sex is literally GODLY. this man is a BUILT- as Jungkook would say - “Big Body” guy so it’s literally him trying not to break you while he’s ramming himself inside you.

-Namjoon calling you; Babygirl, My Dirty Little Princess, Honey, Sweetheart, Pretty Little Slut, etc. but especially loves calling you Mommy. 🫣

-MAJOR DADDY KINK.

-MAJOR DEGRADING KINK.

-calling you at 3am after he gets home from an awards show so you could help him destress or celebrate.

-obviously you’re younger than him so when he sees you pouting he lightly slaps your cheek before grabbing your face in his hands while telling you;

“Oh sweetheart. Stop pouting before I make you choke on my cock.”

-him flying you from your hometown to Korea (if you’re not from there, if you are he has you driven to the BTS house just to have his way with you).

-buying you a shit load of lingerie just for you to have him rip it off your body.

-saying things that make you melt in every way for him;

“Look how pretty you look all drunk on me. Do I make you wet baby?”

“You feel so good sweetheart. Roll those hips a little harder for me.”

“Cum baby. Cum.”

“Now we don’t want the boys to hear you. Or maybe we do, go ahead… scream my name babygirl.”

“Who bought you this sexy outfit? Go ahead, say it baby.”

-knowing all of his sweet spots so when you’re out together, you make SURE to tease him.

-after care is a MUST he loves bathing with you because it just ends up with a cock warming session.

-SHOWER SEX.

-STUDIO SEX.

-LIMO/CAR SEX.

-obvi he can’t drive so think of it as the song Partition by Beyoncé. driver trying to sneak a peek while he fingers you in the backseat & rips your dress off, only to have to turn back around instead of reaching your destination.

-THESE HOT WORDS COMING OUT OF HIS MOUTH;

“Stop complaining i’ll buy you a new dress. Just get on your knees.”

“You look so gorgeous with my cock in your mouth baby.”

“My pretty little slut, get on the bed.”

-he loves physical affection so seeing as you’re the only one who gives it to him the way he likes, he cannot get enough of it. or you.

-when he sees you out at a club in that tight little dress he bought for you & the huge iced out necklace sitting right above your perky tits he takes you to his private room he always has reserved & fuck the living daylights out of you.

-in nicer & sweeter terms he always looks out for you. 

-no matter what he will always be a call away if you need anything.

-one month you barely made rent & had little to no money left for yourself so he had staff go over your head & pay your bills 5 months in advance as well as sending you $3000 so you could be set.

-obviously after you tried to decline the help he had you faced down on the mattress begging him to let you release. im which he had the audacity to say;

“Let your Daddy help you & he’ll let you cum babygirl.” as his paced slowed down & before you could say yes he slammed back into you, turning that yes into a scream.

“Good girl. Daddy’s gonna take care of you don’t worry.”

-mocking him about the ‘expensive girl’ cover he did & making him sing it to you.

-wearing his button up shirts with nothing under it just so he can have easy access.

-idk what else to write because just the THOUGHT OF KIM NAM FUCKING JOON BEING YOUR SUGAR DADDY IS SUCH A TURN ON. k bye i’m done now lol. maybe i’ll make a part 2. maybe not.

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MORE TO COME! ENJOY! 🫶🏼