#really the first thing i need to make is the corset that will serve as the base for the vest to sit over

[discountalien-pancake]

Fucking darts the placement is so inconvenient but look at this side-by-side and tell me this pattern isn’t exactly the perfect shape for Galadriel’s chestplate:

Obviously the bottom hem needs a bit more spring and a different curve but I’m making a fucking waistcoat so it’s not like i’m that concerned about being screen-accurate. The buttons will be replaced with hooks and eyes so that i can make the edges meet exactly in the center without overlap. And obviously the collar will need to be altered, both for accuracy and comfort.

I essentially want this bodice to be functional as a cosplay and potentially as an evening gown bodice as well.

These are the colors I’m contemplating right now for the final version:

I’m leaning towards lower left but I need to get swatches to make sure.

[azareel-writes]

sub!demon brothers/reader headcanons ♡

chara. by appearance: mammon, leviathan, asmodeus, beelzebub, satan, belphegor, lucifer ft. afab!MC / afab!reader ♡ no gendered terms used for reader except "mommy" ♡ 18+ under the cut

nightbringer has reawakened my love for obey me! when i first started OM, one of my things was deducing what demons brothers are subs and now i know my answer is all of them. might expand on this later!!

mammon: mommy kink. it's canon, trust me. mams is so down bad for his mommy. a service sub w bratty tendencies but his dick always wins the battle between continuing to be difficult or being obedient and cumming. loves when you pull him by the hair no matter the context. to get his attention? yes. making out? obviously. forcing him to look at you while he's on his knees? the dumb baby might cum in his pants.

leviathan: two ways to deal with our lovely snake boi. first, degrade him. make fun of him for being a dumb virgin, spank him, bite him. humiliate him by stripping him completely but keeping most of your clothes on. or second, praise him. treat him so gently like one of his priceless figurines. kiss him all over before you lay a finger on his cock. reward him for staying. levi isn't used to affection but that can be solved by handcuffing him so he can't cover up his pretty body. by degrading him or being super loving, you're being sooooo mean to him it's not fair :((((

beelzebub: praise kink and i refuse to relent in this. for the love of everything holy and infernal, someone praise this boy. do i have to make the argument for oral? he's ecstatic to have you ride his face and will do so for hours if you let him. a well behaved boy - the best of his brothers - with a ton of stamina! loves the size difference between you two. you're a human and so small and so fragile compared to him. but you can make his brain go all fuzzy and make him feel small. your soothing presence brings him to his knees, eager and ready to please.

asmodeus: he's not the avatar of lust for nothing! will switch things up on you whenever he feels like it, just to keep you on your toes! sometimes he's a power bottom, sometimes he's the eager service sub. into some light kitten play! just an excuse for asmo to dress up for you. (though you might want to get him out of it quickly~) cat ears, pretty lingerie, thigh-highs and garterbelts, a tail plug to match... or maybe a classic bunny suit? low cut corset suit with a tail, fishnets, heels, and always ready to serve you.

satan: size queen. anything goes until he safewords. relatively well behaved - he is more impatient than bratty. his chest is super sensitive, he's never walking away without hickies. doesn't say it but he likes it slow. running a hand through his hair, kissing all over his face. he wants to feel like he's yours and yours alone. subspace really calms him down. outside of sex, he curls up to you, staying glued to you. he will get quiet or nonverbal but don't worry! he's in a good mood, so let him lay in your lap and dote on him a little.

belphegor: brat. big big brat. the type of brat that needs to be broken. edge him into oblivion then force him to cum over and over again — that is what the little brat wanted, now he's begging you to stop? maybe he's learned his lesson, but he loves pushing your buttons too much to kick the habit. can only manage to stay up 3–4 minutes after; he believes the post-sex sleep is amazing when he's sore and satisfied. loves to lay on your chest while you rub his back and play with his hair. 

lucifer: experienced doms only: hard mode!! everything is discussed beforehand with a very detailed contract - kinks, limits, curiosities. calls you master in bed. loves when you use your pact on him (consensually). pretty obedient boy, as are the terms of your contract. big shibari fan. imagine having the avatar of pride tied up in red ropes like a present looking up at you. that sight alone will make you feel like the strongest being in all three realms.

[multicolour-ink]

🎁 For Mia and Pio hehe 🤭 rating doesn't matter to me...write as you please lolol

Emoji Prompt Mia and Pio

🎁 Presents

contains a little bit of suggestive content - but nothing explicit! If you're not a fan, maybe best to skip.

* * *

Surprise Gift

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY PIO!"

Cheers erupted around the family table as Pio laughed and blew out his candles.

"Thank you, everyone."

"One year older, bro!", Tony smirked as he nudged his older brother. "We need to check if you're getting grey hairs yet."

Pio huffed.

"At least my mustache is already full, unlike yours!"

"Alright boys settle down!, said Pa. "Let's have Pio cut the cake. And please give your old man the second biggest slice!"

"Tony will just have the icing", Arthur laughed. His new girlfriend, Marie, giggled and leaned into his side.

"Oh Pio!", said Mia, as Pio was just serving up the last slice. "Could you come with me a moment? I have an extra surprise for you."

She lightly winked at Arthur, Marie, and Tony. They winked back, knowing exactly what she meant.

Pio blinked.

"Err sure", said Pio, getting up and taking his slice of cake with him.

He followed her to the spare bedroom. Once they were in, she closed the door, and hugged him lovingly, kissing him on the lips.

"Happy Birthday!"

"Thank you, amore", he smiled. "But, what is this all about?"

"You'll see", she grinned. "I just need to get it. But first, you know how it's been over a year since we got together?"

"Of course!", said Pio. And then he frowned. "But we already celebrated that."

"Yes I know, and it was wonderful. And I wanted to do something as well for it, but I couldn't think of what to do at the time. But now I have the perfect thing! And -"

She paused and wagged a finger at him.

"Since this is also your birthday present, you can't say I didn't need to do anything. This is two presents in one!"

Pio knew he couldn't argue with her.

"Alright", he chuckled. "What did you have in mind?"

"Turn around and close your eyes!"

He did as she asked, still a little confused.

"I'll be right back!", Mia said.

After a few moments he heard the door open and close, then a little while later he heard it open again.

"Alright", said Mia. "You can open your eyes now."

He turned around, and then nearly dropped his cake.

Mia was now clothed in a full lingerie corset and matching underwear. Dark satin lace enclosed all the rights parts of her body, making her look even curvier, and her cleavage was raised up and fuller.

Pio swallowed. His mouth had suddenly gone very dry.

"Well", Mia said, her voice sultry. "What do you think?"

Pio swallowed again. Somehow all manner of speaking had left him, and he didn't realise he was trembling until the dessert fork started rattling on his plate. He quickly put it down and looked back at her.

"Mia...You..."

His eyes grazed over her with shameless relish. And he didn't even bother hiding his physical reaction.

She approached him, and he eagerly took her in his arms.

"Happy Birthday, Pio."

- - -

OOF. Well Pio is getting some 🤭

I headcanon that Mia doesn't really dress up in stuff like this much - but I do imagine that Marie does, and Mia got the idea form her ^^ Tony and Arthur kept Pio distracted while the girls went shopping 🤭

[xxrainshadowsxx]

New Elite, Chapter 1

Here's the beginning of the new fic. Very different from Interpersonal, it is a period piece, and I have researched it to hell and back (Lord knows why I didn't pick a period in history I already knew a lot about), so hopefully it's mostly accurate. No Onceler in this chapter, but this has to be here to set things up. Also, I'm working on getting a master list set up, hopefully by next weekend.

“Tighter, Nellie. This is going to be her grand entrance into society, she needs to be seen.” You take in a sharp breath as the already near-suffocating corset is pulled even tighter as per your mother’s firm instructions. You don’t bother trying to argue with her. You’d learned from past fruitless attempts that it was pointless.

“Stop fidgeting so much,” was her next admonishment, this one directed at you. You did your best to stay still–dress fitting was nothing new to you–but all too often your frayed nerves got the best of you and caused frequent trembles.

This wasn’t just any dress fitting for you. This was the fitting for your debutante, your formal introduction to the high society of New York. Of course, you’d been surrounded in it your whole life, but always protected, never left to fend for yourself. Now, you were to be thrown to the sharks, and had to pray you had the education necessary to survive.

And of course, the most important part of your debutante was that you were going to be introduced to society as a viable marriage option. And, according to your mother, your whole life has been leading up to making a good marriage.

She wasn’t entirely wrong. While there were parts of the world that were starting to see that marriage and childbearing was not the ultimate goal for a woman, it was not so in your circle. And of course, your mother wasn’t excited for your marriage for you. No, she was pushing it for her own survival.

You sigh through a grimace as Nellie tightens the last few strings of your corset. You really couldn’t blame your mother for pushing this on you, even though you selfishly wanted to. It wasn’t just her survival that hinged on it; yours did as well.

Still, you couldn’t help but resent the fact that the burden to keep the two of you afloat fell solely on your shoulders. Every appointment to get you ready for your debutante, every dance lesson, and especially everytime your mother made you recite the “rules” for the ball in the coming week that would serve as the vehicle for your debutante, made you want to scream and rip your own lovely, painstakingly-manicured hair out from the roots.

And there was no back-up option. As Mother was quick to remind you if you voiced even a hint of dissent, you were the one and only card the two of you had left to play. According to her, a lovely young girl with a good name could attract anyone she so chose, as long as she kept her charms about her. That was exactly the role she expected of you.

So she spent money you were sure you didn’t have in an effort to get you noticed. She made it clear that she fully expected you to end your first season engaged at the very least, and kept dropping increasingly less-subtle hints that this was the last chance you had to keep your family’s name and legacy in New York’s good graces…

Nellie finally finishes with your corset, breaking you momentarily from your melancholy for a whole new type of misery. You cautiously take in a breath as deep as you’re able as your mother is busy instructing Nellie on the correct way to handle your dress. To your dismay, Nellie did far too good a job at tying the corset; your breaths can’t loosen it even an inch, and inhales you can take are far too shallow for your liking.

But then Nellie comes over with the dress, and you have to hold yourself together and lift your arms as she places the delicate material over you, and then she and your mother immediately begin inspecting it for any flaws. As they fuss over the details, you glance at yourself in the mirror and sigh. You hate the pure white you’re in. You’d seen one dress with just a hint of light blue feathers on it that would have done wonders for your complexion, but Mother had deemed it far too scandalous. Women at their debutante wore white, and only white. To wear any other color was to suggest one wasn’t a maiden, and that wouldn’t fall in line with your mother’s master plan.

Get introduced into society. Catch the eye of some rich man and get engaged and married in quick fashion. And suddenly, all of your problems would be solved. If only it were that simple and not have so many hidden rules and regulations in between the lines.

“Darling, what gloves were you thinking?” your mother asks as she finally decides your dress is passable. Before you can voice your own opinion, she gives hers. “The ones with the pearls at the top would be simply lovely.”

“I was thinking that as well.” You absolutely weren’t–you actually fancied an ivory pair with lace just so you could have something that wasn’t pure white–but you’d learned long ago that agreeing with your mother is far easier than trying to change her mind about anything. Besides, it would take an act of God to convince her that ivory would be acceptable.

She hands you her preferred gloves, and you slide them over your hands and arms. “Well, I think that besides the hair, this will be what we go with,” she declares, though she’s still scrutinizing you for the most minute flaw. “I see no reason why you shouldn’t attract the attention of most men.”

You can’t help but notice the fact that she simply says ‘men’ instead of ‘young men’ like she used to. That meant widower’s twice or even three times your age were probably acceptable options to her as long as they had enough wealth and a respectable name. It takes all of your control to suppress a shudder. Your worst nightmare was being forced to marry some fifty-year-old man in a year’s time. He’d probably have children of his own older than you at that point.

But if your mother thought men of any age were appropriate, then it meant your family’s financial situation was even more dire than you originally thought. This really was the last ditch effort you had to restore yourselves.

Well, restore yourselves to the life you were accustomed to. So many people were still living less fortunate lives than you, and you recognized that. But to even suggest to your mother that either one of you should start selling things, or worse, get a job, would destroy her pride. There would be no way to hide the money situation if you did either of those two things, and slowly but surely, you would both be shunned from society. She couldn’t handle that, and you hadn’t been brave enough to broach the topic with her just yet.

Turning away from these unpleasant thoughts, you instead turn to look at yourself in the mirror. You can’t exactly say you’re thrilled with the sight that greets you. All the white makes you look younger than you are, which isn’t conducive for being seen as a marriage option for the men of New York. Your hair at the moment didn’t exactly help matters in terms of looking your age, but you weren’t exactly thrilled about that coming change, either. At present, your hair hung in long curls down your back. While contributing to your youthful appearance, you didn’t like the idea of putting it up whenever you went out, but that was one of society’s rules. From your debutante forward, your unbound hair was a gift for your future husband.

As usual, though, your mother doesn’t share your opinion. “You look a vision, my dove,” she croons. “Well, I think that about does it for today. Nellie, come get it off. Keep it safe for the ball. And have it steamed beforehand.”

“Of course, milady,” Nellie murmurs before going to help you out of your entrapment of a dress, which thankfully, you know would be a good deal quicker than getting it on in the first place. 

As she works, Mother pierces you with a meaningful stare. “You remember what we talked about in terms of how you are to behave, correct?” How could you forget? She’d drilled it into you for the past six months. You simply nod to try and avoid another verbal repetition, but the rules flash across your mind just the same.

There was to be no talking about topics you were actually interested in, like women’s suffrage or the growing political turmoil in Europe. Music and art were acceptable, but only if men brought up the subject first, and there was to be no intentional disagreements. You were to accept a dance with any eligible man who asked, but excuse yourself quickly if he wasn’t up to your mother’s standards for a suitable husband.

And what would disqualify someone from your overwhelming list of potential future husbands? There was only one thing, and it was your mother’s most important rule: Never associate with New Money for longer than socially acceptable.

To your mother, the worst thing someone could be in society was New Money. Her greatest fear was that your only marriage proposal would be from someone who was classified as New Money. She honestly might rather take the two of you being destitute over you marrying into New Money. It was anyone’s guess at this point, and you weren’t confident on which way she would go. It could very well change with her mood each day.

As soon as the garment was off your body, your mother had more rules. Of course she did. “Well, early to bed with you. You’ve been far too pale lately, we need to change that. I don’t want to have to use too much cosmetic on you for the ball. Nellie, draw a bath will you? Bed after that.” She beams at you before leaving you to follow Nellie to a bath.

She means well. You know that, deep down, she just wants to save you from a life on the streets, and this was the only solution she knew of. But you also know she loves her comfort, and her motivation was out of self-preservation as much as your own protection. And though she didn’t know it, you found the rules and regulation of her precious New York society to be just as suffocating as the tightest corset.

As you sink into the mercifully warm bath Nellie has prepared for you, your thoughts turn again to an unknown future husband. You know full well your mother will agree to a proposal from the richest suitor with the most respected name, without giving a second thought to their character. That wasn’t a consideration given to her, and it still wasn’t a common practice among the upper-class, so you know your actual feelings about someone won’t be a factor in your marriage. You’d be lucky to get engaged to someone you liked. You knew it was a fool’s hope to believe you’d actually be in love by the time of your wedding.

And then there was the other factor, the one that scared you more than even marrying a stranger: being forced to bear his children. Women died in childbirth frequently, even with new drugs that claimed to help with the pain, and the infant mortality rate was even higher. That was something you knew all too well. Your mother had had several pregnancies both before and after you, all of which had resulted in either a miscarriage or stillbirth. You had been the only healthy child.

Well, the only healthy legitimate child. Perhaps due to your mother’s inability to produce an heir to his liking, your father had a number of extramarital affairs. You didn’t know if you had any half siblings as a result of those affairs, but it was certainly a possibility. And of course, because it happened to her, your mother told you it was likely to happen to you, too. You were supposed to pretend you didn’t know about it.

That was one task you weren’t sure you’d be able to manage if it did come to pass. Unless you ended up married to a truly horrendous man, you didn’t want him to suffer the same fate as your father, who’d died from a venereal disease he’d contracted from one of his affairs. If your own husband was doing the same, you might not be able to hold your tongue.

“Miss? You’ve been so melancholy today, one might’ve thought a funeral was impending,” Nellie comments, once again pulling you from your doldrums.

“I’m scared, Nellie,” you sigh. Though employed as a maid to your family, she was the closest thing you had to a friend and confidante, and you trusted her to keep your silence from your mother. “This is unknown. And while I recognize the privilege my name has given me, this is the price I pay for it. The burden of upper-class women is no easy one. I think I should find a funeral far easier than my own debutante, for then I would at least know what to expect.”

“Hush now with those morbid thoughts,” Nellie scolds, though she manages to sound much more affectionate than your mother. “You’ll be the brightest young star at the ball, and have any number of young gentlemen interested. Surely one of them is bound to catch your fancy? Now let’s get you washed and out of the water before you start to prune.” You allow her to help you finish your bath and step out of the water and into your night things before returning to your room, where Nellie started running a comb through your hair to detangle it.

There was nothing that could be done for you. Your father left you with nothing but piles of debt, and while the old family fortune had seen you through a few years, it was depleted now. Your marriage truly was the last hope you had to keep yourself and your mother off the streets, penniless. With no man to care for them, women were vulnerable, and that was simply the truth of the world. 

So as much as you detested it, you would play your part. It was the only way to keep you alive.

[darkandstormydolls]

Another new costume: historical this time!

I’ve wanted to get into historical costuming for a long long time, it’s just taken a while to a. figure out the skills and knowledge needed and b. get all of the pieces done (because of course I had to pick a complicated dress from a complicated decade). I’ve technically been working on this outfit since last fall; I made the chemise and corset back in August or September of last year, I don’t exactly remember, for another costume. I know undergarments are pretty much the most important thing for historical costuming, but MY GOODNESS do they take a while. In addition to the ones mentioned above, I also made a bustle, a detachable ruffled overlay, and a petticoat (the bustle overlay is made out of Halloween fabrics with bats and skeletons and things because of the theory of “no one’s gonna see it, so why not make it wildly anachronistic and fun?”)

The dress itself has three parts: a base skirt with three layers of trim (which took and eternity and a half to pleat), and overskirts with all the floofy fabric (there are tapes inside to hold it into those puffs in the front) and the bodice. That one I don’t think took the longest, but it was definitely the most complicated; interlining, boning at the seams, handsewing of bias tape hems at the top and bottom, a million seams, and so much trim, and that’s not even counting the fact that I had to take it apart and resew it after the first attempt. The buttons down the from were supposed to be velvet to match the ribbons, but the velvet was too thick and didn’t fit in the button coverer, so I went with the same fabric as the dress, a plain black cotton (I got a 25 yard bolt of this and must have used around 15 on this dress between all the parts and all the pleated trim).

I did not make it all in a historical way; inner seams are almost all overlocked (I zigzagged around the edges of the bodice fabric and interlining rather than basting them together so that I didn’t have to finish those seams inside of the bodice) . After all, it’s historical costuming, not recreation. I’m not trying to be 100% accurate, I’m trying to make a cute dress.

I also made a chemisette and cuffs to fill in the neckline and to add some visual depth to an otherwise all black dress (I’m planning to make all my historical clothes at least close to my normal clothing style, so that I feel more comfortable in them). The collar ended up a bit bigger than I would have liked, and I think it looks a little puritanical, but oh well. It is what it is. I can always make a new one in the future if it’s still bothering me.

I made this dress to be 1873, right in the middle of the first bustle era (my favorite era of Victorian womenswear).

The hat was an endeavor. I think I cut the pattern wrong, so it ended up way too tall, so I just kind of folded the sides under and now it’s fine. I’m kind of regretting adding the flowers, but they’re hot glued in (the one time I used hot glue on this hat rather than sewing. Of course.) and I don’t really care enough to fuss around with trying to get them off. I guess I can also always wear it without a hat if it keeps bugging me. At least my hair turned out cute!

All in all, I love this costume. It’s cute, I think it’s flattering, it’s fairly comfy (and shockingly easy to move in; the skirts are a bit heavy, but not too much, the corset and boning don’t actually stop my from bending over if I have to, and the bustle folds up quite easily when I need to sit down). I think I could easily see myself wearing this for hours at an event. It’s a smidge long, but that’s not too much of a problem, and the petticoat pokes out a thing bit at the bottom, but that only serves to keep the skirt hem cleaner. The only real issue I came across with this was stairs, but even then, is was mostly only after I had taken off my shoes and the hem was a few inches too long.

I guess this dress is properly victorian goth, rather than just Victorian-inspired like most of my clothes

[nochuelinha]

Chapter 11: Regardez-moi

The party was a success; everyone praised the decorations and everything served at the small gathering. The high heels were making my feet ache a bit, but I kept them on until the end. I had a glass of wine in my hand as I said goodbye to Irina, who whispered in my ear that she tried to hold Bella back from going to the balcony a few hours ago. I smiled at her, but truthfully, I was a little disappointed by the interference.

When everyone finally left, the first thing I did was take off my shoes. The cold floor worked wonders on my feet. I collapsed onto a sofa and admired one of the chandeliers in the decoration. I closed my eyes and relaxed.

___ Get up, let's clean - Emmett's annoying voice rang out.

___ Negative, I helped set everything up and I'm exhausted - I replied dramatically - You guys are in charge of cleaning and organizing - He grabbed my foot and started pulling me across the room.

___EMMETT, DON'T MAKE ME BREAK YOUR FACE IN THIS DAMN PERIOD DRESS - I opened my eyes and glared at him angrily. I felt someone lifting me up and carrying me bridal-style.

___Lucky for you, your knight in shining armor arrived just in time," Edward said, laughing at Emmett's antics. Before I could respond to his teasing, Edward disappeared up the stairs with me in his arms, heading towards his room.

___ Let's open my presents together - he said simply. When we reached the room, his bed was covered with packages of all sizes. He put me down on the floor and went to the bed. I walked to the foot of the bed and waited for him to pick one. It was a small package wrapped in black paper. Inside was a CD from a band I didn't know, and a small note fell out. I picked it up and read aloud.

"For Edward, the coolest centenarian I know, hope you like Ghost - Seth."

Edward chuckled and chose another package after putting away the CD. Minutes later, almost all the presents were unwrapped, leaving two remaining—mine and one in a red wrapping. He opened mine first, and I looked on expectantly. He smiled and spritzed a bit of the perfume onto his wrist, filling the room with its fragrance.

___ It smells really nice, I think it suits me - he said with a smile, then picked up the small box inside the larger one. As he opened it, his eyes met mine - Is it a ring?

___ Yes, it comes with matching cufflinks - I said excitedly - Look, the stone is for protection, and I forgot to ask about the red one - I laughed and continued - I hope you like it. I wasn't sure how to complement your gift, but I thought it suits you.

___Thank you very much, it really suits me - he said, taking the ring out of the box and putting it on. As he admired the ring on his finger, I picked up the last present and asked if he minded if I opened it - Feel free - he replied and waited. It was a photo album, with Bella's photo on the cover. I furrowed my eyebrows and picked up the note.

"Know that I will always love you unconditionally. I know I hurt you and that we can't be together, but dear, I wanted to try again. I would run away with you to the ends of the earth, forever yours, Bella."

I looked at Edward, who had a scowl on his face. I shrugged. He had opened the album, and it was filled with photos of them together—smiling, lying on her bed, at a school dance, and many other moments. He closed the album quickly. He seemed very shaken, so I got up.

___ It's late, I think you need some time to think -I whispered and ran to my room. I closed the door and slid down to sit on the floor. He loved Bella. I sighed and stayed there for hours. The clock on the bedside table read 5:34. I got up and went to the bathroom, letting my hair fall loose like a messy cascade. I undid the ribbon that held the corset's strings, slowly loosening it from my body. I turned on the water in the bathtub. The world seemed slower, and the colors weren't as vivid. I waited for the tub to fill and sank into the hot water. Moments from the party flashed through my mind. Frustrated, I submerged myself and stayed underwater for minutes. I washed slowly, and when the water turned cold, I got up, grabbed my robe, let the bathwater drain along with my hopes, and lay down on my bed. I closed my eyes and cleared my head of any thoughts. I didn't know how much time had passed. I heard knocks on the door, whispered "come in," and Alice appeared, looking concerned. I smiled sadly at her.

___ I saw you in a vision, just like this, sad and a bit miserable - she murmured and sat on the other side of the bed, picking up a brush and starting to untangle my messy hair, which had dried naturally.

___ Bella declared her love for Edward with a little note and a photo album of the two of them," I said without much energy in my words. -- He loves her. How long do you think it'll take for them to be in each other's arms? - I closed my eyes again, and images of them flooded my mind. I didn't understand why seeing them together hurt so much now. It felt like my heart weighed a ton, but I knew that wasn't possible.

___ Did he say anything to you? - Alice seemed concerned. I shook my head -Then why do you think they'll get back together?

___ I don't know, but it just seems right, doesn't it? He's suffered so much from their separation. It feels like such a relief knowing that someone he loves deeply reciprocates his feelings - I reasoned. It made more sense than the idea of him supposedly feeling the same way I do - When Bella went to give him her gift, we were together -I added, hoping Alice would catch the implication -I didn't hear what they talked about.

___ Together, as in a couple? - She seemed to light up.

___ He was going to kiss me, but I only got a little taste of his soft lips - I mumbled into the soft pillow -I've never wished to turn back time before, but today I wish I could - I sighed. Alice chuckled.

___ I guess you don't have to worry so much," Alice said, but it was too late.

___ Can I just listen to sad, romantic songs while I think about how unlucky I am to like someone who doesn't like me back?" I blurted out, feeling more miserable than I thought.

___ Of course not. Let's perk up a bit. Not all is lost," she said optimistically. I sat on the bed and let her continue brushing my hair, not moving a muscle. She went to my closet and picked out a lilac dress with white flowers. I reluctantly put it on along with my undergarments. "You look like a freaking zombie. Cheer up!" she exclaimed. I went to my vanity and styled my hair in a loose half-up, half-down 'do. I didn't bother with shoes and headed downstairs to the kitchen. Esme was there, sipping on a cup of tea. She looked at me with concern.

___ Sweetheart, what happened? - she asked, setting her cup down and coming over to me, placing her hands on my cheeks. I leaned into her touch.

___ Where's Edward? - Alice asked from behind me.

___ He left a few minutes ago. Said he had something to take care of - Esme replied simply - What happened? - she asked again.

___ Edward received a declaration from Bella yesterday - I murmured, feeling upset - I let my feelings get the best of me and ended up falling in love. Can I move to another country alone? - I wanted to cry.

___ He received what? - Rosalie's voice cut through the air, and I groaned in frustration. Now everyone knows about my feelings. Esme ran her hand through my hair, and I continued to lean into her embrace -HOW DARE SHE PULL A STUNT LIKE THAT AFTER EVERYTHING SHE'S PUT HIM THROUGH? -The furious mama bear was back. She was beside herself and wanted to storm over to Bella's house. Alice had her hands full trying to calm her down, while Esme made me a chamomile tea. I needed to distract myself, so after spending some more time with Esme in the kitchen, I decided to go hunting, alone for the first time.

The grass was wet beneath my bare feet as I ran aimlessly until I heard a heartbeat in the forest. I stopped after a few minutes, finding a massive bear in a clearing. He would be my meal. I quickly approached him, and he attacked as soon as he saw me. It was fun for a few minutes, but I drained his blood until he was dead. The rain started again, even the weather seemed more melancholic today. I continued hunting, but after two mountain lions, I wasn't as excited anymore. The rain intensified, so I took the opportunity to cry a little—pathetic. I returned home hours later, drenched and covered in mud. Jasper was reading on the porch. He looked at me.

___ You look terrible - I chuckled at his remark and went to him with open arms - Stay away, I just had a nice warm bath, and you're going to get me dirty - to avoid messing up the house, I jumped directly onto the balcony into my room, went straight to the bathroom, and washed up. I picked out pajamas and collapsed onto the bed. The sound of the piano drifted from Edward's room, tempting me to go there, but I couldn't come up with a plausible excuse. I grabbed my phone and played my favorite song, "Sparks," remembering the day he took me to the flower-filled clearing. I glanced at the flowers he had given me less than a week ago—would he continue this?

I heard a knock on the door, and I allowed the person to enter. Edward came in and closed the door. I sat on the bed and waited for him to say something.

___ I went to Bella's house today - well, that wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear. I looked at the ceiling of my room as if it were the most interesting thing in the universe. He came to the foot of my bed. - Look at me - he requested, and I looked into the depths of his eyes. - I didn't go back to her, I just went to clarify things. Our story was concluded months ago. I think she thought I would still be in her hands after all this time - he sat in one of my armchairs. The music changed to "Flightless Bird, American Mouth." He stood up and extended his hand to me. Without understanding, I took it, and he pulled me to dance with him. I laughed.

___ You like to dance, don't you? - I placed my bare feet on top of his, and he guided us around the room, my arms around his neck and his hands on my back. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the moment. It was good to be in his arms.

___ Look at me - he repeated the phrase from minutes ago. He stopped dancing and held my cheeks. I opened my eyes and met his. He leaned in, and I smiled, then he kissed me. It was my first kiss, and if it's always like this, I regret not kissing him earlier. A fire ignited in my heart, and I lost myself in his arms. I'm completely in love with him.

[the-gift-of-submission]

Inside a Submissives Soul -

Dear Diary -

I get back from work to get ready, I am already packed, I just need to shower and get changed before he picks me up. He meets me in the van, I have a ton of stuff, some things can go in the grab bag for the van that he supplied me with. I am a woman that carries things around 'just in case', because you never know! We head off up north for the festival. It is a small dubfest, I am looking forward to it, it is our first little festival experience to share together. When we get there it is dark but we get settled in the van and then head out to meet friends, have a bite to eat, a drink and listen to some music being played in the main stage tent. Such a cool, great vibe. After we get our heads down after some time playing with eachother as he teases and pokes me with his fingers, I fondle with hid manhood. Before I am able to take him orally he is over the top of me sliding into me. I love the way he fills me. He tells me, 'cum', I do, very much so a number of times. As we come down from our mutual high, we snuggle and drift into sleep.

Morning comes, we spend some time in the van first thing to sleep, rest and I get to feel him over my tongue. He kisses until he puts his hand on my head or neck and suggestingly pushes me down to take him into my mouth. Always such a great way to start our day. When we are up and ready, we head out to the main area at lunch time for a bite to eat and then to find where our friends are parked up in their vans. They happen to be at the opposite ends but that's ok, there's a centre in the middle too with food and drink being served aswell as areas to get freshened up. We spend the day chilling and wandering around, some food, a cuppa or two, cake and time with friends. We then head back to the van to get ourselves ready and set for evening and night around and in the main stage tent area. He gets out a corset he has bought for me to try on, he assists with fitting, black pinstripe with a zip up the front and black ribbon up the back. It fits nicely on it's smallest setting, I like it, it feels nice, he smiles. I'm glad he approves as always.

We move on to get ourselves out for the night, lots of great people, fun-loving atmosphere, nice food and drink. He is with me, he is sociable, he is everything I need and want. For the first time in a while he relaxes alittle and enjoys himself, dancing around, singing, having a good time. I took photos and videos of him and friends, I love making memories and capturing what I can of them. I feel so happy to see him this way, I can see he is holding much in but I am pleased to see he is giving himself some time to enjoy things too. This place was great, loved it all, so happy he planned and took us to do this. Can't wait to do more of this kind of stuff together for sure.

That night on returning to the van, he was in a bad place, I know drink had a part in it. I couldn't make sense of some things but it worried me greatly, he worried me. I know he has so much within himself he has to release it all at some point. I tried to support him but his refusal made it difficult for me to do so. He pushed me away but he needed me to stay, I did, I won't leave him. In the end I managed to help him to bed to settle, he crashed, he let himself burn alittle too. All I could do was sit by him, just be there, that's all I can ever do, I know it's not really enough either.

The next day was abit of a blur. It was time to leave and head back to reality again, it's always the worst part of our time together, having to leave. I don't remember much of the return at all, I remember us being together, him teasing me to the point I climax over and over on demand, I remember wanting him, needing him to f**k me, he refused, not because he didn't want to but because that wasn't in the type of play we were having, it was all about being sensual with just touching and the power of the mind. I didn't take it well, I saw it as rejection and fell into a deep state of Catharsis. He had to support me in keeping myself safe because without his intervention, I would have torn my own skin off. He holds me close and doesn't let go even when I resist, it's all he can do, it's the best thing he can do.

I am terrified of losing him, history seems to have a constant worry over me and I can't seem to shake it off completely for whatever reason. I am a mess, I am fully aware of how much of a mess I am within myself. He tells me he doesn't worry about my state and that he is here for me, he wants me in his life permanently, for us to share a life together. I want just the same, so much, all I ever wanted was him and I was prepared to accept there were some other things within his life that required his time and attention. Now he is here and I am fearful he will leave again. We have lots to sort between us, it's not going to be easy, but then, life never is, good things never are. We just have to keep working at things the best we can and see where we end up, my hope is together, for a very, very long time if not forever and always.

[sukirichi]

hey!! congrats on 500!! could i get breakfast: ingredient 33 + sugar 7 for nanami kento? thanks!!

VIOLET

violet; a flower that symbolizes faith and affection — this was simply one of your promises to Nanami.

meal order: 🥞 + 33 (royalty au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) (no warnings, other than this fic is unedited.)

notes: thank you so much for joining the event and requesting! i honestly loved this idea so much, i still remember how happy i was when i first saw it and i looked forward to writing it. i hope this was what you were looking for! i may or may not have been too deep in the feels with this one. anyways, enjoy and thank you so much! breakfast has been served!

word count: 7k+ 

“Nanami.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

You looked up from under the golden roof, a small smile on your face. The sun shone down brightly, the calm, gentle air making the flowers in your royal garden dance side by the side, almost as if encouraged by the soft kiss of nature. In this lightning, all the colors popped out vibrantly, a wide array of splashes of life laid out before you. “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”

Nanami, your bodyguard, followed your line of sight. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Stiff and straightforward as ever, you connoted with a hidden smile. “Perfect,” you announced, lifting your gloved hands in a beckoning gesture. “Come with me. I must inspect the garden. I heard from the staff last night that my new flowers have arrived. I shall see to it that it came in perfect condition,” Nanami nodded beside you and followed you as you trudged all the way out in broad daylight, your hair shining from the sun’s rays.

As if noticing the harsh glare of heat on your skin, Nanami was quick to open your parasol, standing at least a foot behind you. Trained to be obedient flawless in their duties, his footsteps were silent behind you, nothing but the tapping of your heels against the ground heard from the open space.

You were shielded from the heat, but you weren’t satisfied.

With a faux, distressed clicking of your tongue, you stopped in your tracks, whipping around to face your black-suit clad bodyguard. His gaze immediately fell down to your feet, back tilted in a perfect bow. You sighed, “Nanami.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Do you want to be fired?”

He froze at your words, momentarily looking up at you for a moment before turning to the ground again. “Of course not, Your Highness,” although monotonous, you could detect the slight tinge of worry in his voice, and you felt a smile crossing on your lips when you saw his brows furrow. “I extremely apologize if I’ve done something wrong. I must repent for it and assess my worth as your—”

“You’re not holding the parasol properly,” you cut him off and stepped forward, reaching to his extended arm and placing yourself right next to him until your shoulders were close enough to brush against each other.

Nanami’s jaw clenched at the lack of space, probably worrying that this was disrespectful, completely unaware you enjoyed every single moment of it, especially now that your senses were clouded with both his masculine scent and the calming aroma of flowers.

“If you keep such a distance from me and extend your arm to hold this, you’d tire your arm, and when your arm is strained, then you won’t be able to be fast enough to protect me from whatever harm comes my way. Plus, holding it in this manner leaves my nose to be burnt under the harsh sun! You wouldn’t want your princess to have sunburn, would you?”

“Definitely not, Your Highness. I would not want any harm or trouble your way.”

“So then step close to me. Like this,” you gestured to the both of you, and underneath the parasol, the hesitance swirled all over those pretty blue eyes of his. It made you want to sigh; he worried too much sometimes. “See? Your arm won’t be tired and my nose is perfectly safe under this shade.”

“But Your Highness – this distance—”

“I shall permit it for now. The situation calls for it,” you waved a hand nonchalantly, moving to where you wanted to see the new flowers. Although you couldn’t see him, the lack of warmth beside you was a telltale Nanami was too stunned to move, and you turned around, head tilted challengingly. “Or you’re still questioning the judgment of your princess?”

Nanami frowned, “I am not, Your Highness.”

“Good. Let’s see the flowers then,” You chirped with a clap.

It was the perfect day for a stroll, a rare day where you basked in not having to worry about your princess duties. The sun was out, the skies were clear, and was that a butterfly happily flying in your garden? Now that Nanami had grown comfortable after mentally reassuring himself it was fine to stick close to you, it honestly couldn’t have been better. But you being the sneaky little princess you were, you still had other plans in mind.

Three maids appeared out of nowhere, carrying a basket, a blanket, and a bottle of wine. They all strolled your way with their heads duck down, wordlessly setting out the white and red plaid patterned blanket on the soft, freshly trimmed grass.

You clapped your hands in sheer enthusiasm, “Oh, how perfect timing! It is quite tiring to stroll around this massive garden, don’t you think, Nanami? We should take a break.”

“A...picnic, Your Highness? Out here? Would you not be more comfortable inside—”

“The dining halls are boring and all the staff would be staring at me as I eat,” you plopped down rather ungraciously on the ground, taking off your heels and planting your sock clad feet on the blanket. On any other normal day, your dear Mother would’ve smacked you with her fan had she seen you act this way, but your parents were out of town, and Nanami was the last person who’d ever judge you. You had every right to be free. “It’s not a very comfortable thing, as you must know, and I’d like to enjoy my temporary freedom.”

A few beats passed as Nanami processed your words. A frown still on his handsome face, he studied the comfort of your body on the ground, already moving to open the basket with a cheerful hum. He supposed it wouldn’t be so bad to let you be this way.

“I will follow whatever pleases you then, Your Highness.”

You hid a smile through sucked in cheeks, pulling out the cake and acting surprised even though you’d ordered this days ago, randomly dragging a servant aside to shyly ask her to get you Nanami’s rumored favorite cake from when he went with you on a trip overseas.

“Oh, look! Fondant Cake from the Kingdom of Cherie. Fine, fine wine too, the best from His Majesty’s collection, if I heard it correctly,” you could barely contain your glee when the slightest light glimmered through his guarded eyes, hands reaching down to pat the empty space beside you. “Sit down. I need you to eat this for me.”

“But Your Highness—”

“Lest you want me to be poisoned, Nanami?” you reeled your hand back, gloved hands placed above your chest as horror filled your gaze. Nanami – bless his sweet soul – quickly bent his knees in half. Slowly, with disbelief still crossing his mind, he allowed you to spoon feed him, the chocolate sauce of the cake staining the tips of his lips. “Well? How is it? Is it safe to eat?”

Nanami moaned; pride swelling up on your chest because finally, you could do something for him. He was still too cautious though, and he concealed his delight with a slight clearing of his throat, palms flat on his muscular thighs as he nodded your way. “It is extremely delicious, Your Highness. I believe it is safe to eat.”

“Did you like it?” You already knew the answer, but it wouldn’t hurt to hear it straight from him.

“Yes.”

Thankful that your ears were covered by a frilly bonnet so he wouldn’t see how warmth crawled up at the tips of your ears, you beamed at him, proudly presenting more of the surprised you had in store.

“I have fresh milk cheese from the city of Lein too. Do you know that people travel from all over the world just to visit Lein and have a taste of this cheese? If it were not for our good connections to them, we would never be able to taste this,” you felt Nanami’s curious gaze fall on the delicacy on your hands, a smirk tilting your lips because cheese as quite rare where you were from. Setting it down on a plate, you cut a piece of the dairy, the fork nearly shoved in Nanami’s face. “But just to make sure, of course. We never know people’s intentions – I could be poisoned. You know very well there are plenty of people after the throne and my head.”

Nanami’s eyes widened at your implications, “Princess, please do not speak so lightly of the threats over your life.”

“Why, does it worry you?”

Nanami looked at you like you’d grown two heads. “Of course it does. It is my duty to protect and worry about you.”

“Is it really just a duty?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing,” you said through gritted teeth, pushing the plate towards him again before Nanami could comprehend whatever went on in your head. “Pair it with the cake. Maybe there could be a chemical reaction that is life threatening. Oh, how I fear for my life, Nanami.”

Obediently, Nanami swallowed the food, eyes closed from the flavors bursting through his mouth. It wasn’t too much of a reaction, but there were hardly any when it came to Nanami to begin with, so it was enough for you, and your giggles were stifled beside him. “I believe this one is safe too.”

And so began your spontaneous picnic, with Nanami being flustered the whole time because you insisted on feeding him. He refused many times, claiming that a royal shouldn’t feed a servant, much less spend their time with him this way. Even though you didn’t mean it, you rolled your eyes just to dissipate his worries, lying through your teeth that you were full and you didn’t want to be suffocated in your corset.

You proceeded to tell him of the different ways his precious princess could die of asphyxiation. The more grotesque your storytelling began; Nanami ate everything quietly, still oblivious that you had your eyes on him the whole time.

He ate quickly, not wanting to be rude and take up too much of your time, but you insisted that you didn’t want him to choke and ordered him to slow down. As your lovely and dutiful servant, who was he to defy your orders? So he took his time, and you closed your eyes, leaning back onto his firm shoulders that grew rigid under the contact.

Soon though, Nanami relaxed, and you were about ready to fall asleep when Nanami quietly announced he’d finished his food, thanking you for the meal.

“That was a lovely picnic,” you grinned at him, even if you’d barely eaten anything.

After all, you only asked for servings for one person, lying to your staff that you wanted it for yourself. Should the higher-ups ever hear about you ordering two servants to share it with someone else when it was painfully clear to everyone in the kingdom you had no prince, it would cause chaos.

Nanami followed you as you stood up, the servants taking it upon themselves to clear up the dishes before they left you to your own devices. You walked all the way near the back of the garden, a place private only for the royal members for this was where they kept their most precious flowers. Upon seeing that the ones you’ve ordered had arrived and they were blooming beautifully beside the white roses, you ran to it, gesturing for Nanami to come closer. He leant down to inspect it, watching the way it twirled around your elegant fingers.

“This is called a Violet. It symbolizes faith and affection.”

“It is beautiful,” he commented quietly, his cool gaze sliding over to yours. “It suits you very much, Your Highness.”

Your cheeks warmed at the sudden attention, which was ironic, since wasn’t that what you always wanted? “I think it suits someone else better, if I were to be honest,” you admitted mysteriously, leaving your bodyguard confused for the nth time that day, but as always, he kept silent unless spoken to. Nanami’s eyes drifted to the flowers again, the rule of never looking in the eyes of royals burned right through his head.

Deep down in your heart, you knew it was a bit too early, but you’d always been impatient. You wouldn’t wait for the right time or the perfect opportunity – you preferred to grab moments and create them yourself.

Squeezing the hem of your dress under bundled fists, you finally gained the courage to be as upfront with him. “Nanami, can you promise me something?”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Never forget this flower. When you are feeling down, I want you to remember this lives and blooms here, that it was the Princess’ favorite, and she wants nothing more than to have this whole garden bloom with it,” You knew, you knew painfully that Nanami may never understand your garden referred to your heart and that it bloomed with your affection for him, but was it so bad to hope that one day you may show your adoration for him?

You’d prepared for this – for the possibility that maybe you never could – so you ordered these flowers, wishing silently that someday Nanami might understand the things you could never say.

“When the right time comes, I shall pluck a flower and give it to the person that receives my faith affection, and I’ll create an entire garden for them.”

Nanami absorbed your words, processing them seriously just as a servant should when it comes to their master’s words. A moment later, Nanami nodded once, head bowed in respect. “I’m sure whoever Prince is lucky enough to get your hand in marriage will be absolutely delighted, Your Highness.”

“The person I long for is not a prince,” you hinted, “He sure is charming, however, much to his ignorance.”

Nanami peeked at you under his blond lashes, the confused pout on his face worrisome yet adorable. It made you want to step forward and capture those red lips in a kiss, but you were still his Princess, and he your bodyguard. You couldn’t do it – not now, at least – for his sake. “I am not sure it would be ideal that you marry a non-royal, Your Highness.”

“Tell me, Nanami,” you began, voice turning serious that his ears perked up at the sudden firmness compared to your usually lilted self. “Do you believe love should be constrained by rules and traditions?”

His answer came in an instant, making you wonder if he would still keep to his words if he found out everything. “No, Your Highness.”

You smiled at his answer – longingly, proudly, and at the same time sadly. “And I wholeheartedly agree with you on that.” Without another word, you turned your back on him and walked back inside the large castle, his footsteps finally audible as he followed you.

Funny it was, that you, a royal-blooded woman found so much comfort in the sound of someone’s breathing and footsteps.

“Nanami.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

You sighed and placed your book down your lap, playfully glaring at the stiff bodyguard who hadn’t moved a muscle ever since he accompanied you in your private library. “You are causing me an uncomfortable amount of stress. I do not like it.”

“What have I done wrong, Your Highness?” his voice trembled again, his back forming that straight, perfect bow that you knew took him years to practice. It probably caused him a lot of pain if his head guard slapped the other servants’ backs just to straighten their spine, and you winced at the idea of it. No one had ever even dared laid a finger on your hair; not without your permission, anyway.

“I sincerely apologize for my shortcomings. I hereby vow to do better in my duties to serve you.”

“As you should. Now come here,” you beckoned him to come closer, sighing louder when Nanami sat a foot away from you, lips pressed into a tight line. “Closer, Nanami.”

Biting his lip – and you nearly couldn’t tear your gaze away from the sight – Nanami inched closer to you, his back still perfectly straight, eyes staring straight ahead, and he was so rigid you wondered if he even breathed at all.

You shook your head with a stifled smile, soft, tireless hands bunching up to release the tight knots of his firm, broad shoulders. You weren’t surprised he felt this hard under your touch; he was a bodyguard, after all, the Princess’ personal one, at that. It made sense he kept himself trimmed, but it didn’t stop the heat spreading all over your skin anyway as you imagined just how firm he was under his clothes.

Eager to get rid of such inappropriate thoughts, you huffed through your nose, continuing to roll your fingers over his back.

“You look so stiff that I cannot focus on this novel I’m reading. Heavens know how shameful it must be that we are getting scholars to study with me this weekend and I am not even halfway done with this classic. It truly bothers me, Nanami.”

“Your Highness,” Nanami’s voice was hushed, his eyes staring directly into yours. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you a massage. If you keep up being this rigid around me, I will lose focus because it makes me uncomfortable, and if I lose focus, I can’t perform my duty well as the princess, and if I am unable to do that, I lose respect, then my title stripped away from me. Terrifying, Nanami. Terrifying, indeed.”

Nanami was silent for a while, his gaze not leaving your focused face. Then, he turned away, his shoulders deflating as he gave in to the pleasure of your surprisingly expert hands. “I am extremely sorry.”

“As you should be,” you commented sarcastically, “Now relax. Pick up a book you like and have some of the biscuits, tea. I cannot focus with you standing around me like a statue. The stone gargoyles do that for us already,” when Nanami didn’t budge a muscle even after you’d finished massaging him, you waved a hand in the air, brow raised challengingly. “Well? Are you defying my orders?”

Nanami shot up from his seat in an instant, “Of course not, Your Highness.”

You pulled the book up higher to hide the wide grin on your lips, watching his curious and slightly dazed staring at the walls upon walls of books stacked upon one another. His wonder of the sight left you wondering just how you managed not to kiss every part of him senseless, for he was so fascinating and far more intriguing than any other universe written beyond these pages.

Nanami’s long, slender fingers finally plucked out a rather thick novel he seemed to find interesting, making his way back to you. He still sat on the other end of the couch to respect your space, and you kept silent this time, not wanting to cross the line.

He may be comfortable around you now, but you knew Nanami better than anyone, and he still held his orders and duties close to his heart that he would never break them no matter what.

It was a compelling quality of his – one you had no idea whether to admire or be irritated of.

Your twinkling eyes studied his stunning features; from his slicked back hair, to his sunken cheeks, all the way down to the sharp point of his nose and to the plumpness of his lips. He was too beautiful that you wondered how he hadn’t managed to be snagged away yet when you were reminded that Nanami was too busy in his duties of protecting you to have time for romance – and for the first time, you felt thankful for the fact you were a royal.

“That is a good one,” you piped up as you read the title of the classic novel. It was a classic about the variegated realms between dreams and reality, one you haven’t read but always wanted to. “Do you mind reading it to me someday? I love the sound of your voice.”

Nanami’s cheeks flushed a bright red at your unexpected compliment, but he nodded anyway, clearing his throat before he spoke. “S-someday, Your Highness, if your schedule allows it so.”

It sounded so much like a promise – and you looked forward eagerly to it.

Finally gaining your focus and determination to study and perform your royal duties now that Nanami had finally taken some time to relax, you did the same, leaning back onto the velvet couch and crossing your legs over the other. “Someday it is.”

“You have to be prepared for your coronation ball,” Rubine, one of the assistants of your dancing tutor made known, snapping her fingers in front of your face when you’d unknowinfly spaced out the window. “Now, up on those toes, back straight and head held high, Your Highness. Let us see if you’ve mastered your dance routine. You must understand it is the most crucial part of the ball and all eyes will be watching you. You cannot afford to make a single mistake.”

Suddenly remembering of why you were spacing out, you winced at the previous phone call prior to Rubine’s arrival. “I am well aware of that, Rubine, but...”

“But?”

“My dance partner, Philippe, just called to say he’s fallen ill and cannot make it today.”

“Ah, Philippe!” Rubine tugged at her hair, dramatically bending forwards to groan, “This is the final rehearsal! Your coronation is so near!” She sat up straight and paced back and forth, her long locks jumping and bouncing as she chewed at her nails. “Well, what shall we do now? We don’t have anyone else to practice with you and I’m only here to substitute for Madam Tee. She’d kill me if she finds out you didn’t rehearse, and I doubt any of the boy servants would know anything about the dance.”

“If I may,” Nanami suddenly spoke up from the corner, tentatively approaching the both of you with one of his hands laid flat on his abdomen. You and Rubine fell silent, his eyes flitting over yours for a moment. “I’ve been with the Princess from all of her dance classes. I know the routine very well,” his tongue darted out to lick at his lips, sending both your mind and heart into a frenzy overdrive. “If Her Highness is comfortable with it, I may be her dance partner for now.”

“That works, I suppose.”

“I’d like to see you dance, Nanamin,” you teased confidently, but no mistake, your heart drummed wildly in your chest at the idea of dancing with the man who’d unknowingly captured both your eye and heart the moment you met him. “Let’s see how good you are then. I warn you though; I’m a very skilled dancer. But please, don’t fret, I won’t criticize you.”

You expected Nanami to at least go along with your lighthearted teasing, but he was Nanami Kento; a very dutiful servant who lived to please and serve his master.

He simply pressed a polite kiss to the pads of your knuckled when you offered it, his eyes still unreadable as he praised, “You are a very good dancer indeed, Your Highness.”

You already knew that, but hearing it fall from his lips hit differently. It suddenly got harder and harder to remember the routine, your confidence slipping into thin air the moment his warm hands wound around the curve of your waist, flattening at the small of your back.

Your breath hitched as you looped your fingers through his larger, calloused ones, and your heart absolutely melted because you fit just perfectly in his hands. Considering that you’d taken off your gloves, you could feel ever callous and scar in his hands, a huge contrast to your soft ones that had never known a day of manual labor.

Nanami was close enough you could feel his breath warm your cheeks, with you staring up at him with wide, blown out eyes. He was still expressionless as ever, jaw tight and brows dipped low, but you could see the softness in his gaze – nearly bordering on adoration.

In that moment, you felt yourself falling harder, and soon, you were both lost in the music.

Nanami was right – he did know the dance. For such an unyielding protector, Nanami danced extremely well, his turns and guidance to your twists flawless.

He caught you in his arms each time, his hands slipping back to hold your waist as if it was second nature for him to hold you like this, to dance with you like this. Everything faded into nothingness at the background, both your gazes captured and enamored by one another. Somewhere in the climax of the dance, your chest pressed flush against his a little tighter, your hands squeezing his a little harder, and you both danced like you were the only ones that mattered in each other’s world.

And in that moment, it felt like you did.

When the music slowly faded out to its ending, you and Nanami were both breathing hard from the strenuous performance that required the utmost elegant execution. Still, his hands remained on your waist, your hand holding him in such a manner that you almost refused to let him go.

But you had to – you knew you had to – and with a broken smile, you pulled away from Nanami.

“Wow,” breathed out Rubine “Princess, I am blown away. You’ve danced better than you ever did with Philippe. You two have got amazing chemistry,” she rubbed her chin at the observation, but you and Nanami were turned away from each other, both of your hearts more conflicted than ever. Rubine, however, remained unknowing of this all. “I guess being around each other all the time adds in to that fact too. That was a very mesmerizing and intimate performance – I actually felt a little guilty that I’m witnessing such moment.”

“I am glad I could be of service to Her Highness.”

Your gaze cut through his, the heat in your eyes loud enough that he was compelled to hold your stare. You immediately softened at his expression; giving in to the pleads of your heart that you were and always will be, utterly and hopelessly in love with him – even if it was impossible he’d ever feel the same way.

Surely, though, it wouldn’t be so much of a sin for a princess to be selfish in a while. “I look forward to dancing with you on the ball, Nanamin.”

“I highly doubt that, Your Highness,” Nanami’s eyes blanked out into an unfathomable expression again, making you wonder if the fondness he held you with when you danced ever existed. “You would be swarmed and surrounded by royals and elites – and I shall be watching out for you from the distance, as always. It’s going to be a crucial event and you have duties to fulfil; a dance with your bodyguard would only ruin the importance of the event,” he reminded you, his words like a slap to your face.

You didn’t have to be scholarly enough to interpret the meaning of his words; Nanami was reminding you that he was servant as you were master, and it simply would not happen. “Who knows what people would say...I only worry about your reputation, Your Highness. Words cut deeper than a knife.”

“I know that,” you agreed with a shattered heart, “I guess I’ll just dream then.”

The coronation went smoother than expected. Until it wasn’t. People from all over the world came, chatting with you about the latest political trends and plans on how you wished to broaden your territories and expand trading systems.

Everything went fine and accordingly to plan until the marriage talk was brought up. Before you knew it, princes and dukes, along with equally socially powerful men came flooding left and right, pressing kisses to your (thankfully) gloved hands and spewing out poetry as if it would impress you. In a way, it did, at least most of them had good taste in literature and were actually well-read, but your eyes kept searching for a certain blond in the crowd, that sinking feeling only growing in the pit of your stomach.

Eventually, it became too much for you.

A neighboring prince asked for your marriage and announced he was good friends with your family, and that about crossed the line and tipped you over the edge until you excused yourself. Growing too tired with all this unnecessary “royal duties”, you disappeared from the crowd, running to the nearest desolated terrace and crying your eyes out.

You never wanted to be a princess.

You never wanted to be born with such luxury, only to pay a price that you couldn’t even choose your own future.

You lost track of time and you no longer questioned why no one looked for you. With each passing second, the crown above your braided hair grew a lot heavier and you slumped across the pillar, burying your tear-streaked face behind your arms. You just felt so tired you wanted to rest – wanted to see Nanami, to run away, to tell him that you loved him.

But he wasn’t there. You hadn’t even seen him the moment you woke up, servants flocking you at every corner as they prepared you for the event.

Your heart ached and you called out for him in broken whispers, wishing that he’d be there to comfort you. “Nanami,” you cried out softly. It was pathetic, really, that the newly crowned queen was crying like a child who lost their toy as you hid from the crowd. “Nanami, where are you, Nanami—”

A pair of arms tugged you into a solid chest, your cheek pressing on top of a rapid heartbeat that raced to no end. Warm, strong arms engulfed you in a hug, a heavy head with a familiar scent falling on the sides of your head that was free from the tips of the crown.

“I thought I lost you, Queen,” Nanami panted, his hold on you growing tighter. Your tears stopped flowing as you fisted his shirt, weakening in his arms and he let you – he knew even the Queen of this prosperous kingdom was still a person and you allowed yourself to grow vulnerable, because this was Nanami and Nanami always caught you.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned up and pressed your lips to his, the salt of your tears passing to his cheeks.

Nanami stood frozen solid for a second before he kissed you back, taking your breath away because his lips held the same wanting as yours did. Soon, his large hands cupped your face as he pulled you closer to him, sighing into your mouth as if he’s dreamed of this moment as long as you had. Nanami kissed you with so much love pouring from his lips that he didn’t have to tell you for you to know, prompting the dam within you to break.

You were crying – the happy tears flowing endlessly – while his thumbs wiped the tears away.

“I love you,” you confessed as you both pulled away, foreheads pressed against each other. This time, there was no more fear or worry as love shone in both your eyes, your hands still helplessly clinging on to him for dear life. “I love you, Nanami, I’ve always loved you. Please don’t leave me – please don’t.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere, Your Majesty,” he addressed you according to your new title, but nothing has changed for him. “I have loved you too long before, and I’ll still keep loving you if you’ll let me.”

That night, you both shared a plethora of first. The first kiss. The first dance. The first I love you’s that wouldn’t stop spilling from your lips, the confessions accompanied with laughter. It was only the beginning of a wonderful yet unforgettable memory, and you abandoned all the riches and gold in the world because this, right here was your real treasure, and you sealed your promise of your faith affection to him with one last kiss.

Ever since you and Nanami had established your relationship, you felt like you were on cloud nine.

Being Queen didn’t seem too much of a grueling task anymore, not when Nanami was grazing his thumb over your knuckles under the table when you were doing paperwork, not when work days and boring, dreadful meetings always ended with him pulling you aside as everyone left for a quick kiss that soon turned into a heated lip-locking.

This was bliss – to have him right here, to finally be able to express how much you loved him – and you couldn’t get enough it.

You still had no king despite the number of suitors that visited every week, so much so that the maids have grown weary of cleaning up your trash bin filled with unopened love letters. Quite frankly, you couldn’t care less because you already had the love of your life within your arms. You turned everyone down, and it wasn’t a huge deal because you were just crowned Queen and surely you had far better things to do than worry about bringing about an heir, but it had already been a year and your advisors were mad.

They’ve informed you that several cities and kingdoms were losing trust over your reclusiveness, the diplomatic relationship turning strained thanks to your eagerness to deny everyone.

Your tongue slipped inside Nanami’s, his hands crawling under your night gown as his body crawled between your legs, with you sighing romantically into his mouth.

“Your Majesty,” he mumbled through stuttering kisses, his fingers deftly pressing into your curves. Despite your insistence that he addressed you by your name, Nanami requested that he still keep his duty as your bodyguard, and you were too soft to deny him this. “Your Majesty…I think we should put an end to this.”

You stopped kissing him.

Hands falling from his neck, you pulled away from him, eyes hardened into a glare. “What do you mean we should put an end to this? Are you suggesting we break up?”

“Yes.”

You gritted your teeth at how he said this so easily. Before you could open your mouth to retort, Nanami beat you to it, distracting you by pressing soft kisses on the column of your neck, always so gentle and careful to not leave marks where the maids could see.

“I’m only worried about you,” he whispered, “I am ruining your reputation because I am in love with you. Your Majesty, I promise to still serve you and be loyal to you,” Nanami pulled away after leaving one last kiss to the sensitive area of your neck that always had you whining in his arms, but this time, you whined out of desperation, nails digging into his bicep as he stared at you apologetically. “We cannot keep doing this, Your Majesty. We both cannot be selfish enough to abandon the future of our people.”

“Well, what about my future?” you banged your fist on your chest, “What about my happiness, Nanami, ever think about that?”

Nanami wiped away the tears streaming down your cheeks, pulling you into the comfort of his arms instead. He understood your pain better than anyone for he, too, shared your longing.

“I don’t want you to go,” you cried into his shoulder, gripping his shirt tightly that it crumbled beneath your grip. “It’s not a life if it’s not with you and just tell me what I have to do, I’ll abandon my title and I’ll stay with you, we don’t have to—”

Nanami silenced you with a kiss, this one more ardent than the others.

He whispered sweet nothings into yours, broken promises that he’d stay, that you didn’t have to change anything and that you could work it out. You believed him, or at least you fooled yourself that you did, because your hold on him was regretful, angry, begging.

The next morning, Nanami was gone from your chambers.

The next night, Nanami was gone from the servant chambers.

The next week, you were married to Prince Satoru from a Kingdom you’d never even heard of.

Nanami resigned. As per rule of the kingdom, staff didn’t need the monarch’s permission to be dismissed from their post. He wasn’t there in your wedding, and he wasn’t there for the next few days to come. These days stretched into weeks, and two months have already passed before you were silently staring out at your window, wondering what Nanami was doing.

The last thing you heard from him was that he went back to his family’s warm, living a peaceful life and bowing one last time to you before he completely disappeared.

His letter remained in your drawers, his neat cursive informing you that he was a lowly servant, and didn’t deserve you, that he didn’t want to ruin your future and only wanted the best for you. You wanted to hate him for it, wanted to curse him for it – but you only tossed and turned in your bed, staring at the ceilings as you pictured his rare smile over and over again.

You wondered how he was doing.

Was he happy? Was he okay? Did he think of you night before he slept? Did he miss you the same way you craved his touch, his voice, his laugh – everything about him and himself?

A loud rattling caught your attention, your head turning to see Prince, or rather, King Satoru saunter in. He was popular in his kingdom and even rumored to have a harem, which you could see happening because he was flirty and shameless.

It was clear that this was a loveless marriage and he only agreed because he had good ties with your family, also adding in to the fact he was the richest and most powerful out of all your suitors. You weren’t too friendly with him, but you weren’t treating each other like strangers too. You both acknowledged each other according to the title, but it never stretched to the fact he was man and you his wife.

Satoru had never talked to you before other than the common pleasantries, so it surprised you when he sat across you, mirroring that familiar torn and forlorn feeling as he stared at your kingdom.

“You and I,” he began quietly, “We both want what we cannot have, don’t we?”

“Hmm.”

“I know you’re in love with someone else,” Satoru smiled, and your eyes widened when he only chuckled knowingly. “It’s okay, Queen, I promise I don’t mind. In fact, I’m just the same as you – I’m madly in love with my butler you won’t understand.”

You nearly toppled over your seat at the sudden confession that Satoru laughed as he helped pull you up, but it didn’t stop you from blabbering.

“You-you’re in love with Geto Suguru?”

“That I am. I’ve been in love with him since we were kids, to be honest, but people had different expectations and plans for me, as you can see.”

“I,” your throat ran dry, your palms growing sweaty. Surely…you could trust him with this, right? “I’m also in love with my bodyguard, or former bodyguard, anyway. His name is Nanami Kento and he’s currently at his farm and I-I—”

“You want to see him and break this marriage?” Satoru didn’t even have to hear the words come from your mouth before he’s pulling you up to your feet, crystalline blue eyes as vivid as the sky. “Well, what’s holding you back, Queen? Let’s go look for him.”

Satoru dragged you along the hallways, liberated laughter echoing in the large space of the castle before you two saddle up your respective horses, shouting for the gate guards to move away. You’ve never felt this free – and Satoru shared the same glee as yours when he stretched his arms beyond the sky, whooping as he smacked his horse to go faster.

By the time you’ve made it into Nanami’s farm, it was nearly sunset, and both you and Satoru were drained from the long journey.

Nanami was dressed in a plain shirt and worn-out sweatpants, dirt caked on his sunken cheeks when he turned at the sounds of horses galloping, you perched on top of your white stallion proudly. “Nanami!” his eyes widened and he dropped the bucket he was holding, the breath taken away from his chest when you jumped off your horse, crashing him into a huge hug.

“Your Majesty,” he spoke breathily, hands coming up to caress the back of your head. “What are you doing here? And King Satoru? What’s going on?”

You answered him by dragging his collar down until his lips danced with yours. Just like that, all your worries and previous sorrows washed away into nothing as his hands gripped tightly at your hips, kissing you back just as eagerly that even he was crying. This time around, you reached to swipe your thumb over the warm tears, kissing him over and over again to remind him your feelings hadn’t changed.

“Let’s go home, Nanami. I promise I’ll do everything right this time around – just please, come home with me.”

You’ve lost count of the times you’ve prayed to the divine beings over and over again to give you one last chance, fearful that maybe Nanami would still be firm in his belief that he wasn’t good enough for you when he was perfect the way he is.

But then he kissed the crown of your head as a silent form of affection, staring deep into your eyes as he smiled, “Your wish has always been my command, Your Majesty.”

Nanami had his back turned to you, his slender hands plucking the violet flower. Upon hearing your not so sneaky footsteps, he whipped around and laughed just as you roared, making the little girl in his arms giggle, copying your greeting as she hissed her fangs.

“Rawr!”

“Aw, you’re so adorable!” you pinched her little cheeks before peppering them with kisses, your precious daughter laughing at the sudden shower of affection. Nanami laughed, too, the deep sound vibrating from deep within his chest. He held up your baby to kiss the left side of her cheeks while you squished her right, your baby’s cheeks smushed between the adoration of her parents. “You’re so cute – just like Daddy!”

“I am not cute,” he protested dejectedly, although the small smile on his face told a different story.

It wasn’t easy – none of this ever was, but you didn’t regret a single moment of it. The old school traditions of your kingdoms were abolished due to a long, hefty process of appealing to the public and proving that love should never be constrained by rules and traditions, and now Satoru was also happily married with his husband, Geto Suguru. The last letter you got from him informed you they adopted a two baby boys named Megumi and a feisty little girl called Nobara, and you were excited for the children to meet and play again.

Safe to say, it was all worth it. All the moments led up to this were painful and filled with longing, but you’d do it all over again if you could.

Because this was what you promised him – endless faith and affection – and you sealed this lifelong promise with a kiss.

“I love you, King,” you mumbled through his lips, and he laughed as he rocked the baby side to side. The kiss was slightly awkward since her grubby hands were trying to clutch both of your chins, sending you both into fits of laughter.

“I love you too, Queen,” he kissed the top of your head and your crown with it – for you were his woman, his wife, and the Queen who ruled all of his heart – leaning down to kiss his baby’s cheeks before he pulled you both in for a hug. The atmosphere that day was similar from when you first forced him to have a picnic with you; warm, sunny, with the wind encouraging the flowers to dance in sync like how you danced with Nanami when you were younger. Your baby gurgled nonsensically, Nanami smiling to himself as you both stared at the bundle of joy in his arms. “I love you too, Violet. Mommy and Daddy loves you a lot.”

To love him, to hold him, to cherish him – it was a promise you held deep within your soul.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥 || dark!tonda x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || everyone in your village spread horrifying rumors about the boys who worked at the mill— called them sorcerers, warlocks, devil-worshippers. maybe if you'd known the rumors were true, you would've thought twice before crossing one of them.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 7k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || smut (noncon due to use of magic), humiliation, unwanted creampie, clit spanking, spitting kink (brief), painful loss of virginity, cockwarming (mentioned), death/murder mention (off-screen), period-typical misogyny (if not significantly less than period-typical it's fucking 1650), a slap, another dude being super creepy to the reader, period-typical descriptions of servitude, brief 'master' kink, some mild religious references, accepting candy from strangers

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - obviously this does not require any knowledge of the book or film, though references are made to it that you'll get if you have consumed either. I used some brief, reconstructed upper sorbian just to be needlessly period- and region-accurate; lubosč is a basic term of endearment like 'darling' or 'sweetheart' and mały kurwa means 'little whore' lmao so yeah you have those to look forward to... oh, and a 'stay' is the medieval predecessor to the corset. sorry for the long-ass note lol

You tightened the laces of your stay until it was just the right fit— snug enough to hold your back straight, but not so restrictive that you wouldn’t be able to breathe right while working today. And there was plenty of work to be done today.

Firstly, the floor needed to be swept and scrubbed, then the tankards that had been soaking overnight needed to be dried before the first patron came in requesting mead or ale, and then after that it was just the usual barmaid tasks: keeping tables clean, keeping customers happy, and keeping the kegs stocked with booze.

The first half of the day went on without anything of note happening; in a town like this, there really weren’t ever ‘new’ customers, just a rotating list of regulars, so you knew what to expect.

It was all quite predictable, in fact: Korla, the man who owned the bakery and the big house on the hill, always ordered two ales and tried to make you listen to him brag about his wealth— but at least he always left you a few coins on the table when he left, the most beneficial way for him to show off to you. Handrij, a younger man with dark brown hair cut close to his scalp, hardly looked at you while you served him and his friends— Jan, Jakub, and another whose name you could never remember— and liked to dramatically order rounds for the whole pub when he’d had a bit too much himself.

And Jurij, the leatherworker who tended to be overdressed for a place like this, always gave you more of his spare change if you let him touch you just a little bit too much without making a face or telling him to piss off. You needed the money today, so you bit your tongue while you were cleaning his table and he ran the back of his fingers over your forearm, exposed by your rolled-up sleeve. “You’re such a pretty girl,” he cooed at you, “it’s a shame to see you working this hard.”

It took real willpower not to roll your eyes when he said that, but you just kept leaning over the table to wipe it with your rag, nearly shuddering visibly when he gently grabbed your arm instead and started to stroke your skin lightly with his thumb.

“Don’t you think you’ll ever get married?” he pressed.

“Why should I?” you smirked. “At least now I’m getting paid to clean up after a man.”

He laughed a bit, and even though part of you would’ve been relieved if he was offended and left you alone, at the same time you were relieved now that you weren’t going to lose out on your tip for saying that. “You’re a bit cynical, I see. But I don’t mind that— I think it’s good that a girl sees things for what they are, not just what she wishes they should be. A lot of girls your age are caught up in fancy and merriment, but not you: you’re practical.”

Did he really think insulting other girls would be a compliment? Did he really think you cared what he did or didn’t mind? “I try to be,” you answered flatly, hoping to bore him enough that he’d give up.

Having finished cleaning the table, you tried to pull back but his grip on your arm tightened, tugging you closer to him. “Hey,” he corrected quietly, “don’t go yet.”

“I have to—” you began to explain, looking to your side where more tables needed to be wiped down.

“Shh,” he interjected, his other hand pulling your face back to look at him again, “there’s nobody else here. You don’t need to serve anyone.”

You hadn’t actually noticed that he was the only one in the pub with you, and it made you want to squirm in his grip, though you resisted the urge.

“Anyone but me, that is,” he added, voice a little lower. You understood, then, that ‘there’s no one here for you to serve’ really meant ‘there’s no one here to stop me.’

His grip on your arm tightened again, almost painfully so, before he started to lean in closer to your face— like he was trying to stop you from getting away before you even tried. The hand on your face moved back to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, his chin tilting up with his crooked grin as he stared you down.

“You would make a good little wife, I think,” he hummed. “Sure, you like your independence now, but I think you’d like being married, too— someone to take care of you…”

He leaned in even closer, to speak right in your ear after he’d kissed it lightly.

“Someone to belong to…” he added with a whisper, kissing you again on your cheek, and just below where your ear met your neck, as you wished more than anything to get away. You already belonged to someone— the pub owner, and while he was stern at times, he was a just master and you would rather not anger him by delaying your work any longer.

“I-I don’t—” you stammered, struggling against Jurij’s grasp again.

“Shh,” he soothed, “don’t be rude, lubosč, I just want to show you how beautiful you are…”

Just as Jurij opened his mouth wider to suck gently on your neck, the front door swung open and you both pulled back slightly in shock.

A group of boys had dashed in, and though you didn’t recognise their faces, you knew who they were just by the way they were dressed and the air of foreignness— of unsettling strangeness itself— that seemed to follow them in.

The boys from the mill. The ones that made everyone uncomfortable each time they came into town for essentials. The ones that were said to practice unspeakable evil in their secretive mill, closed completely to all outsiders, even though no one really had much proof past old folk tales.

They were generally considered unsavory customers, and your master had forbidden you from serving them, but right now, they were your saviors.

The boy that seemed to lead them— he was walking in front, and he’d been the one who was talking when they all saw you and Jurij and everyone fell into uncomfortable silence— gave you a little smirk beneath his stubbly beard as he observed the situation you were in. Shame burned on your face as he looked at you, and you looked back at him. Jurij was looking at him, too; glaring at him as if he’d interrupted a private moment. But the boy only stared back at you, and though his face was somewhat neutral, you saw his judgment… or maybe it was just that him looking at you made it impossible not to judge yourself.

As the boys moved along and took their place at one of the empty tables, you cleared your throat and finally wrenched yourself out of Jurij’s relaxed grasp.

“I should get back to work,” you mumbled awkwardly, scuttering away to get behind the bar and furiously scrub some tankards to look busy.

Unfortunately, the group of new customers didn’t seem to pick up on the implications of your ignorance. “Barmaid?” the one you’d made unwanted eye contact with before called out, waving outward to try to catch the corner of your eye, which he did. “Miss?”

You frowned and sighed, but walked to their table, standing beside it and staring at them silently as they each looked back at you.

Although they were young, and at present acting generally harmless, they did still intimidate you slightly just for sitting there. Especially the leader, who seemed to see more than he necessarily let on; he had his curls of sandy-blonde hair pulled back into a small tail, and a few smears of soot dirtying his cheeks and forehead. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I want to drink?” he wondered, smiling a bit like he already knew the answer and was just harassing you with his question.

“No, and I think it would be better if you left,” you answered.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

You decided just to ignore his tone, and humor his feigned confusion. “Barkeep says we don’t serve your kind here.” You felt a little guilty, and a little scared, when he glared at you. “His words, not mine.”

“And what kind would that be, specifically?” he asked, raising his brow as if to challenge you.

“Mill boys,” you answered confidently. “You know everyone thinks you’re Satanists. They think you hide there to learn your dark magic… it scares them.”

He sat up a little taller, spoke a little quieter. “Are you scared of me?”

“No,” you shrugged, “I’m more worried you’re gonna stiff me than curse me. A poor mill boy can’t afford to tip, anyhow.”

That seemed to hit him harder than accusations of witchcraft had. “I didn’t expect you to be so inhospitable,” he snapped. “You seem to be quite accommodating with your other patrons.”

The other boys snickered and you swallowed thickly, hating that they’d seen you letting Jurij all but feel you up, but that was different. It was just for a better tip; you weren’t just some floozy barmaid who let customers get handsy for the thrill of it. “I’ve asked you to leave,” you reminded them firmly. “If my master finds you here, he won’t ask.”

There was a pregnant pause before the leader stood up from his seat with a reluctant sign, and the others quickly followed. Quietly, they filed out and started to leave, but apparently the curly-haired blonde wasn’t quite done with you yet. You gasped as his hand grabbed your sleeve at the shoulder and pulled you close to him. “Tell your master that his prejudices might give him trouble someday,” he growled at you, “and that his bar girl should remember her place.”

He let you go roughly, shoving you back slightly so that you stumbled for a moment, and in a flurry of silent rage the boys were gone from whence they came.

Thankfully, the rest of the night went off without a hitch after that, although you were so shaken up that you took the liberty to close the bar early. After some more cleaning and preparations to open tomorrow, you finally took a deep sigh and scanned the empty pub, checking for anything else that needed to be done before you could get to bed for the night.

Thankfully, your quarters were just down the hall; since your full-time dedication as your master’s servant was to upkeep the pub, you simply lived in a small room in the back with a cot and oil lamp. You had one purpose, and though it was simple, you took pride in it. It was no wonder, then, that you felt yourself smile slightly as you appreciated your day’s work and admired the spotless room, every surface cleaned and waxed, each tankard and keg carefully cleaned, each table arranged exactly perpendicular to each wall and each chair upturned and placed on it.

In fact, you were the only dirty thing left in the room; so, with a wipe of the sweat off your forehead with the back of your rag-laden hand, you retired for the evening, beginning to untie your apron on the way to your room.

Your eyes landed quickly on the one thing you didn’t expect: a small fruit tart on your table, one clearly left by a visitor while you’d been at work.

You beamed as you saw the snack beside your bed, laid on a cloth napkin. There wasn’t any note to indicate from whom it might be, not that that would’ve been much help to you considering you’d never been taught to read. Besides, it was quite obvious that it was a gift from your master’s wife: she occasionally brought you extra food from the dinner table, though rarely something as nice as this. Having gone most of your shift without eating at all, you were happy to hop onto your bed and chow down.

Perhaps it was worth savoring, but you didn’t have the time or self-control to do that, especially once you tasted the first bite and involuntarily moaned to yourself at the delicious sweetness. You decided you’d find time to thank Cecilija for the kind gift in the morning, because she was likely already gone to sleep for the night.

As you shamelessly licked your fingers after finishing the last bite, even using your wetted finger to pick up every crumb from atop your blanket, you heard a rushed and heavy knock at the door— not your room, the front door of the pub.

Furrowing your brow in confusion, you waited a moment until you heard another one to get up and start re-tying your apron strings on the way back. “Who is it?” you called out as you exited the back hall and approached the front door, getting no answer.

Thinking it to be your master (most likely and best case scenario), or Jurij claiming to have left something behind even though you’d scrubbed the whole place down on your hands and knees and knew for a fact that wasn’t possible (less likely and slightly concerning to imagine), you swung open the door and gasped at the sight of the boy you’d turned away before. “You know, I don’t think I ever actually introduced myself,” he greeted with a tilted smirk, “my name is Tonda. What’s yours?”

You’d heard that telling a sorcerer your true name was dangerous, gave him greater chance to control you with magic. You remained silent and he laughed a bit.

“Right, can’t be too safe in times like this,” he relented. “Wouldn’t want to go around giving supposed warlocks the chance to cast their devil-magic on you.” He wiggled his fingers at you as if to pantomime a silly spell.

His brow raised, though, when you lifted your tongue inside your mouth to suckle at your teeth.

“Did you already eat the tart?” he asked, and your stomach dropped. He must’ve seen it on your face; he laughed coldly as he stepped inside right as you stepped back. “You won’t give me your name but you’ll eat any treat you just… find lying around. Gluttony is a sin, didn’t any church elders tell you that while they were lecturing about how you need to fear the Satan-worshippers from the mill?”

“I— I thought—” you stammered weakly over your defense, but he heard none of it, only sneering at you as he slammed the door behind himself.

“You shouldn’t’ve been so rude earlier,” he explained darkly. “It’s a shame you don’t know how to treat paying customers— someone really should’ve taught you some manners.”

“It wasn’t my idea,” you defended, “my master told me not to—”

“Apologise to me.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurted before you could stop it. Why had you said that? You weren’t even sorry, really, though you did feel a bit bad for him.

“Hmm, I think you should be more effusive than that, you need to really grovel,” he decided, smirking proudly to himself.

“I think you need to go back to where you came from and get the hell away from me!” you shouted back.

"Shut up and get on your knees," he demanded, and instantly you fell to kneel before him— you couldn't stop it, couldn't fight it, couldn't even question it, you just did it.

He laughed a cold, hollow laugh as he looked down at you. "Are you trying to get up? Don't resist the magic, it'll injure you if you try too hard."

You believed that, unfortunately: you could feel the threat of pain around the edges of everything, like an aura that would shock or prick you if you moved outside of his will. And you couldn’t speak, because he’d told you to shut up.

Your eyes started to burn with fresh tears as you realised your fatal mistake; some would say your mistake was eating the tart without questioning too thoroughly where it had really come from, but you knew you were doomed long before then. This somewhat-unassuming peasant boy really was the warlock all the village people claimed he and his fellow mill workers were, and from the moment you’d refused to serve him, he made it his mission to humiliate and punish you. Sooner or later, he would’ve found a way to get to you— though it was embarrassing that it ended up being so much sooner.

“Now,” he began again, “I think you’re ready to apologise to me properly. Start by saying you’re sorry for being so disrespectful.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeated soberly, “for being so disrespectful.”

“Hmm, I’m sure you are,” he nodded, stroking his chin as he stared down at you kneeling on the floor, “but you’re just not sorry enough quite yet. Get up.”

You rose to your feet quickly, though you lost your balance as he pushed you back: he didn’t push you very hard at all, it was probably almost no effort for him, but it was hard enough to send you stumbling backward until you caught yourself on the edge of a table, between two chairs stacked on it, leaning against it for support.

He stalked forward and cornered you against it as you shrunk away instinctively, though you couldn’t stop him from pressing his body up against yours. You looked away but he demanded that you look up at him and, without any choice, you did. “I’m going to teach you a lesson,” he promised, cold but firm.

“Y-you can’t,” you stammered, “my master will be back soon, and he’ll—”

“He’s already been dealt with,” Tonda interrupted with a snarl. “I’m your master now.”

He didn’t give you any time to process either of those realisations before he gave you first command, speaking right by your ear as his fingers began to push your dress off your shoulder delicately.

"Spread your legs for me," he whispered, "and lift up your skirts, nice and slow."

Against every desire that begged you not to, you sat back on the table and propped your legs up on it as you spread them wide, beginning to gather up your apron and skirt while he leaned back slightly to watch you with a bemused smirk.

The fabric sliding over your legs made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, your heart beating faster with every inch higher you moved your dress. He hummed and ran his hand over your leg; you wished more than anything to kick away from his touch, but the magic was there, waiting, threatening to hurt you if you disobeyed.

Finally you held your dress up to your hips; a draft in the room was uncomfortably cool on your unprotected legs, but it wasn’t the only reason a chill ran up your spine.

He grinned at you with crooked, rotted teeth, and you hardly managed to swallow down your grimace. Being exposed so lewdly made a sick feeling tingle in the pit of your stomach and, oddly, made further wetness gather at your entrance.

“Oh, mały kurwa,” he mocked, “do you enjoy showing me your pussy?”

“N-no,” you choked out your reply, even though you weren’t exactly in a place to deny it when he could see the proof of your arousal.

“Perhaps I should’ve cursed that tart to make you honest as well as obedient,” he joked. “Loosen your stay.”

With a swallowed whimper, you reached behind your back and untied the bow, loosening the strings until you could take it off— and the apron with it— such that you were left only in your chemise. Finally he did something himself: he stepped forward and grabbed the garment at the neck, snarling as he roughly tore the front open and exposed your chest. He kept his eyes trained right on yours as he roughly groped your breasts, his hands hot and calloused and entirely too brutal on your delicate skin.

For your credit, you tried to put on a brave face; you just looked back up at him and tried not to look shy and scared, because that seemed to be exactly what he wanted. When he’d asked you before, hardly half a day since now but so long ago, if you were scared of him… he wanted you to be. But you refused to be.

He sensed it. And it angered him. “You think you’re better than me,” he sneered, pausing his assault to grab you by the torn collar of your chemise.

“No, that’s not—” you denied.

“Some peasant bitch and you think you’re better than me?” he continued anyway. “What, just because you’re clean and you’ve got some cushy servant’s job working the bar and letting any old creep feel you up for a tip? You’re not gonna be clean anymore when I’m done with you… you’ll remember your place after I dirty you up a bit.”

You decided not to disagree with him anymore, since it just seemed to anger him further. He let go of your collar and stood up straight with his arms crossed smugly.

“Take my cock out,” he demanded. Instantly, your plan not to disagree was dashed.

“No, please,” you spoke quickly, though you were only barely managing to stop your arm from reaching out to do it.

“Don’t test me!” he warned sharply. “Don’t make me say it again, either.”

With a little grunt, you gave up your fight against the curse controlling your body and reached forward, slipping a hand into his trousers and almost yelping when you felt his hard member bump against your palm. You used one hand to hold it, trying not to think about what you were doing, while the other tugged his trousers down.

Well, it was hard not to think about what you were doing when you could see it, thick and veiny and flexing against your grip. You sighed as he stepped forward, suddenly pulling your hips closer to the edge of the table.

“W-wait,” you pleaded quickly, but he ignored you completely as he pushed your hand aside and suddenly speared himself right into you, making you yelp and grip the edge of the table hard enough to carve the shape of your fingernails into it.

“Fuck, are you a virgin?” he breathed. “Or, were you a virgin?”

You bit your lip to try to stop from crying, nodding quickly.

“Oh, good girl,” he grinned, leaning in to bury his face against your neck as he began to move. You sobbed and reached up to push at his shoulders, desperate to make him stop.

But he hadn’t commanded you to stop fighting, not yet; he wasn’t wielding his paranormal, Satanic power over you anymore… just his physical strength, just his power over you as a man who had a woman pinned to a table and could do anything he wanted to her and get away with it. “You’re hurting me,” you informed him shakily between your pained cries.

He let you beat on his back for a while, tug on his tunic and claw at his shoulders, before he finally lost his patience and grabbed you by the wrists, pinning you down to the table.

He made a point of thrusting even deeper, grinding his hips up against the back of your thighs each time he was completely inside you, and you let out a long cry every time. “Stop, please!” you begged.

“God, what a precious fucking cunt you’ve got,” he praised roughly, letting his head fall back for a moment as he sped up yet again. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You were only such a bitch to me before because you wanted me to ruin you, right? Admit it.”

“I was only such a bitch because I wanted you to ruin me,” you agreed against your will.

He kept you repeating after him for ages, and as awful as it was, at least it gave you something to do to distract you from the pain.

I wanted you to fuck me, Tonda, I wanted you inside me— this is all I wanted, for you to come back and make me yours. I just needed your cock to make me a pathetic, sobbing, drooling mess…

When he tired of that, he moved on thoroughly abusing your breasts, pinching and tugging your nipples until they were so hard they were sore, then suckling on them eagerly while you tried not to notice that it actually felt rather nice. Each time his tongue swiped over a sensitive bud, your walls clenched around his cock and he smiled against your skin, taunting you for giving yourself away. “The pain must’ve gone by now,” he decided, “it feels good, doesn’t it? You like it.”

Though he was right, in a last play for your dignity, you shook your head; all that got you was him pulling away from sucking on your nipples to frown and slap you across the face.

"Say you love it," he growled.

"I love it," you repeated through your teeth.

"Tell me that you love the way I fuck you."

"I—" you choked on it, trying more than anything not to say the rest of it but failing quickly, "I love the way you fuck me…"

"I can tell, you're gripping on to me so tight— you like it, wench? You like being fucked like the dirty fucking slut you are?”

"I hate you!" you spat.

"But you can't answer my question," he noticed with a grin. "It's all right, you don't need to be ashamed. It's okay to like it. After all, I like fucking you like the dirty fucking slut you are. I love the way your sweet, innocent little pussy feels, so warm and soft inside."

He leaned down to speak quieter and closer to you, staring right at your face.

"I love seeing this cute body take my cock so deep. I love watching your tits bounce and your cunt stretch out wide to fit me: it feels good, you're so, so good…"

The praise shot straight through your body like a lightning bolt, making your back arch up off the table and your toes curl inside your shoes. Pleasure was building and you had no idea what to do with it— you'd never felt anything like this before, and it felt like it was powerful enough to consume you if you let it.

"Tell me that you want to be good for me," he instructed you.

"I want to be good for you, I want to do whatever you say," you moaned, and he let out a deep noise of raw, primal pleasure while he started to really slam into you, brutally claiming your body for himself.

"Look up at me and open your mouth, little girl, stick your tongue out," he grunted his demand, looking down at you with dark eyes as you obeyed. He pursed his lips and spit right into your waiting mouth, growling for you to swallow which you did quickly to get it over with.

As disgusting as it was, somehow it made your body writhe harder beneath him, his cock inside you stirring something deep and painfully intense.

"Stop trying to hold it back," he ordered with a low voice, and unfortunately it was not only his magic that made the command impossible to resist. "I can feel how much you want to come for me. Go on, then, and do it— come."

You couldn't be sure then if it was his curse that made the dam within you break and your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, but at a certain point, it didn't really matter. You cried out loudly, struggling under the grip of his hands pinning you down, and felt everything within you tense up all at once. Just barely past your own screams you could hear him moaning at how tight you'd become, and just beyond the tingling numbness inside you you could feel him fucking you even faster.

All your strength left you and your body went limp on the table, moved only by his thrusts rocking you back and forth. He laughed, though the sound was strained from his own exhaustion, as he admired your total surrender. "I knew you'd like it, just had to help you learn how to take it," he informed you, glancing down at where your bodies were joined with a little sigh. "You're fucking dripping, kurwa, you're making a mess on this floor you just cleaned."

Sadly, you believed him completely; you could hear the sound of your own wetness echoing lewdly around the empty room. You yelped a bit, your body weakly jolting, when he reached down to pinch your swollen clit.

"Come on, I wanna feel you come again," he purred.

"I can't," you breathed, "I— oh!"

He'd given you a spank right on your clit, hence the gasp, and when he gave you another your legs began to quiver. "Hurry up," he demanded impatiently as he kept hitting you, "I wanna feel it one more time before I'm finished."

There was something enticing about that: the idea that he might be done soon and leave you to your shame. It already felt like he'd been using you for ages and you just wanted to soak in the bath and try to convince yourself it never happened. You couldn't have known, yet, that just because he'd finish didn't mean he'd be done with you quite yet.

Though it reawakened a deep soreness, and took more energy from you than you knew you had, with enough encouragement and brutal stimulation to your clit, you came again— with a whimper rather than a scream.

"Fuck," he cursed as he felt your channel pulse once again, "you're gonna milk my cock, little barmaid— is that what you wanted? You want to milk my cock?"

Your eyes shot open as you realised where that 'milk' was bound to end up. "No—" you began with a gasp, but he interrupted immediately.

"Oh, don't play innocent, I know you want my come in you," he mocked, "I know you want it deep in this dirty fucking cunt."

"N-no, pull out, please," you whimpered, choking on a sob when you saw his grin and knew he was going to ignore your plea. "Tonda, please!"

He leaned down to speak right against your ear, still smiling smugly. "Beg me to come inside you," he instructed mockingly.

"Please, come inside me," you heard your voice obey, "please— I need every drop of your seed within me, I need you so desperately…"

"You can be even more pathetic than that, come on, get creative!" he encouraged.

"I'm nothing without your come, master, please!" you spoke suddenly, compelled by the magic but ultimately coming up with some of it all on your own. "Give me so much that I never forget who I belong to, I know I don't deserve it but please, please come inside me!"

"Such a faithful servant you are," he groaned, releasing one of your wrists so he could use the hand to grab at your breasts again instead, "and you'll get your reward— you'll get your master's come, just stay still and take my gift…"

You shut your eyes tight, biting down on your tongue to stop from sobbing, as he moved faster and more erratically while his cock started to flex against your channel. He moaned loudly, squeezing your wrists where he kept them pinned by your head, and finally you knew he was coming inside you when you felt a new kind of heat spread in your core and start to drip from your opening. You sobbed near-silently, eyes shut tight, as he slowed his movements to a stop and breathed heavily.

"Look up at me," he pleaded softly, and you blinked open your eyes and turned your head to see him— face stained with soot and sparkling with sweat— staring back at you darkly. "You're so good, my pretty little servant, you did so very good for me."

"I—" you began.

"Say 'thank you'," he prompted, "'for teaching me.'"

"Thank you," you repeated with a defeated sigh, "for teaching me."

"You're a quick learner— no wonder your master was so unwilling to give you up," Tonda shook his head.

With a small groan he pulled out of you, and you instantly felt a gush of hot, sticky wetness pour out of you: the only thing worse than the physical feeling of it was the metaphysical feeling of his eyes on you, watching your abused hole leak out his seed.

You tried to close your legs but he stopped you with his hands, kneeling down to get a closer look. "I really stretched you out, hm?" he mumbled, mostly to himself.

"Can't you just leave?" you groaned, and he stood up again.

"What? Why would I do that?"

"You've done the deed, you can go and let me bathe and sleep," you posited.

He smiled, almost giving you a look of pity, as he pulled you up by your arms— you were so weak he had to keep holding your waist to keep you sitting up. "I can," he agreed, "but why would I leave when I've got such an obedient servant right here?"

He leaned in to kiss your cheek, and your neck, as new tears began to fall down your numb face.

"I have a feeling you're gonna ask me to take you again before the night is through," he chuckled.

"Do I have to do what you say forever?" you wondered aloud.

"Yes," he answered, moving to kiss your neck.

"Just because of a blasted tart?!"

He chuckled again as he held the back of your head, sucking lightly on your pulse before standing up straight to look down at you again. "No, not because of the tart— I'm not quite that powerful. The curse will wear off eventually, probably by the end of the night,” he explained, “but there are other ways to make you obey, some much more effective than black magic.”

“Please, don’t hurt me,” you whimpered, shuddering at his laugh.

“Oh, I don’t have to,” he shook his head. “I can just remind you that your master is dead and you’ll starve without someone to serve who can feed you.”

You swallowed thickly, saying the smallest prayer in your mind for your master, hoping that he hadn’t suffered too greatly at the hands of this evil sorcerer that held you close to him now.

“Or,” he continued, “I could threaten that if you try to run from me, that I’ll let any of the boys at the mill have their way with you.” He smiled darkly as you whimpered at the suggestion. “Nearly two dozen young men who’ve been locked away from the world for years.... they’ll tear you apart,” he added with a wistful sort of look in his eye— he was imagining it, you realised with disgust. "So, as long as you behave, all you have to do is serve me. I think it's a pretty favorable deal, if I'm honest."

He could make you say yes, agree to anything; he could make you sign your life away. But he didn't use the curse to force you, waiting instead for your true answer.

Not that you exactly had a choice. For all his deception, he was being truthful in expressing that he was your only hope. A servant with no master is doomed, and after he'd defiled you your village would probably banish you not only for losing your maidenhead but for it being taken by a dreaded mill body— shit, they'd probably burn you at the stake, now that you thought about it, if they knew he'd put his seed in you and thought you might be carrying the spawn of Satan.

So you gave in to him, and somehow it was more humiliating than ever— because at least the first time, you had no choice but to do what he commanded, but now… now you had no curse to blame. "Yes," you breathed, looking up at him with watery eyes, "I'll be your servant."

He had you change into untorn clothes and pack your things— of which there were few— and follow him back through the dark forest to the mill where he showed you his bedroll: he couldn't give you another of your own so you were meant to share. You recognized a few of the other boys; you shuddered to feel their eyes on you, hoping they didn't notice the way you had to limp… not that it wouldn't be obvious what Tonda had done to you either way.

You didn't sleep that night: it was much too hot pressed up to his body under the thick wool blanket with his arm draped over your chest, though somehow you were shivering violently as well. You didn't sleep because you were afraid to dream; if you dreamt of freedom, of the life you had before, of any fate but this, it would be too cruel to wake up and remember you belonged to a sorcerer who intended to use you only for his own pleasure. It would be too cruel to have to open your eyes and see the gray stone walls— nothing like the soft wood of your quarters at the pub— and know you could never leave this place.

Tonda stirred and awoke after a few hours, pulling you closer drowsily but waking more when he realized you were wide awake. "Why aren't you sleeping?" he whispered under his breath, right by your ear.

"I can't," you whispered back.

"I can help you," he offered, "there are spells to make you—"

"No," you interjected quickly, "please, I don't want to sleep."

You felt him smile against your ear as he turned you onto your back. "Is there something else you want to do?" he asked coyly as he carefully climbed on top of you, slotting his body between your legs.

"Wait," you gasped, knowing you were still horribly sore.

"Ask me to fuck you," he instructed, and to be totally honest, you couldn't tell if the curse was still on you; did it really matter?

"Fuck me, Tonda, please," you whispered shakily.

His come was still leaking out of you from before, leaving your thighs slick yet sticky, and you shuddered when his cock slid over your folds with such ease.

Ease, however, was the last thing that came to mind just a moment later when he entered you. You yelped sharply when he pushed forward and gave you all of it at once— it stung so painfully to be torn open again by his cock, you couldn't help it. He grunted and clapped his hand down over your mouth, whispering in your ear. "You have to be quiet, you don't want to wake the others, do you?"

But you probably already had; they were probably listening now, hearing the blanket shift and your labored breathing and his skin rubbing against yours. They probably knew exactly what he was doing to you, and you tried not to imagine what they might do with that knowledge.

He kissed your tears away as they fell down your temples, cooing quiet praises to you, calling you his servant as often as he felt you needed to be reminded.

But you didn't need to be reminded, you knew damn well that you were trapped and owned. You'd never forget it, not with him forging a new path inside you again and promising to keep you full to the brim with his seed every chance he could get.

He made a lot of promises, actually: promises to keep you safe in exchange for your devotion, promises to pleasure you ("Not that it's any trouble, you're so sensitive and submit to me so easily," he felt the need to add mockingly), promises to keep you in his bed for days on end, promises to train you into the perfect servant.

And to his credit, he kept all of his promises. He proved to be somewhat… unpredictable; emotional, even. Some days he was rough and careless with you, taking whatever he needed, ignorant to your pain. Other days, and much more frequently, he seemed to crave your love even more than your body. He liked to whisper to you, telling you to say that you loved him, right as he filled you; sometimes he didn't even fuck you, just sliding himself inside you and telling you to keep him warm for the night.

He never did curse you to do his bidding again, but you were susceptible to his magic in other ways— some mundane, some rather lewd. But it wasn't quite witchcraft that made you learn to care for him, with time. It wasn't quite love, either, but something eerily similar.

It felt like love, sometimes; after a while, he stopped calling you his servant and started calling you his wife. Not that he treated you much different either way. At least he didn't make you wash clothes or work a farm or raise a hundred babies— frankly, you had more freedom than the average wife, in the end. A little less than the average maidservant, though. You weren't permitted to do much without him, and you only ever left the mill with your hand held tightly in his.

Once, the two of you even visited the nearby village together; you vaguely remembered it as once being your own.

You visited the pub. It was under new ownership. And this time, even though they cast a hateful glance at the devil-worshippers still, they served you.

[doodles-arts]

Why do you interest me so much?

Megumi x Vampire!Reader

Type: One shot. Two parts.

Description: As a vampire who was hidden from the human world until your father was captured and killed, you find yourself living with the same humans your father was so afraid of you seeing. So what happens when a powerful vampire from a lineage of vampires that once served a powerful curse, meets a powerful sorcerer from a clan of other powerful sorcerers. Will you kill each other like your father always told you, or will you succumb to the new world of humans and curse welders. More importantly, will you fall for this human, with dead calm eyes, pretty eyelashes and spiky hair, or will you use him to runaway from this world? 

Genre: Stangers to Lovers. Monster love. Vampire AU, somewhat soulmate AU.

Warnings: Dark content! There is mentions of death, blood (duh). There is suggestive themes of adult content, biting, and masturbating. If you are reading and are underage, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT. Any blogs with no age specified will be blocked!

A/n: Loved making this fic. I love vampires and am a old soul where writes use to incorporate vampires in EVERY fandom! This is definably something for an older audience so please do not interact if you are are underage. This fan fiction ran a bit long so there will be a second part. For the sake of the fan fic, all character will be aged up 4 years! This makes Megumi 20!!!!

Word count: 10.K

Background: In a world of curses, what would it be like if it were intertwined with a world of monsters that also imbued with cursed energy. Most humanoid monsters like vampires, mermaids and werewolves can better manipulate cursed energy, acting as endless fountains of them. And the most dangerous kind of monster are vampires, they not only can imbue cursed energy, but have super abilities other than just speed and strength, unique to each vampire. Due to its growth in population of monsters and the growth of human technology forced the monsters and jujutsu sorcerers to join forces in order to keep the monsters safe in this modern era. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

You were walking in the park, which may sound dangerous for a vampire, but contrary to popular belief, the sun didn’t burn you. You did however, wear a a long sleeve oversized shirt that looked like a dress. You paired it with a under bust corset and stockings with garter belts. A black denim jacket, and a bucket hat for good measure. Black was just your color! Besides, it was all the clothes you could carry after having to flee your father’s castle. 

Ever since he died, more and more humans strayed off the hiking path and saw it, so despite the natives warnings, they traveled into the castle. And though you had no trouble scaring them off, the rumors were spreading. And when you felt the curse welders near (monsters called jujutsu sorcerers that), you fled. 

So here you were in Tokyo, hiding in plain sight. It worked for the most part, you had an ID and other human things, which your father had prepared for you incase of anything. But, imagine living in a new environment, with new people, new sights and sounds, new tastes, new indulgences. The more you spent with the humans, the more your contempt and hatred for them diminished. You felt pity for them at a time, vampires didn’t really need to prove their powers, you could just feel if another was stronger or not. Humans almost always fought for dominance, or power, so it was strange to see people like, ‘underdogs’, and even stranger when you found yourself rooting for them on the other side of the TV. 

The last few months you had finally found your place in this human world, and even made a few human friends. You didn’t hate the humans, you actually understood why they needed to be protected and babied, they weren’t exactly a civilized race, so easy to panic, kill or scare. 

So being in a shopping district, buying more sweets and clothes with your paycheck, you felt at ease. Which was your first mistake. 

As you paid the vendor for the fresh taffy, you heard a camera click, but ignored it. Your second mistake. 

Who had taken the picture you may ask? Yuji, of course and it was for Nobara as she had fallen in love with your outfit and wanted a subtle picture with you. When Yuji showed Megumi and Nobara how weird it was that you body didn’t appear in it at all, but your clothes had, Megumi was they first to order them to grab you. If it hadn’t been for Megumi and his experience in the Cursed world, the other two would have stayed gawking at the picture. He ordered them to follow him in a pursuit of taking you in (to Jujutsu High).

So when they ran towards you, Megumi found it a little strange that a Vampire like yourself hadn’t sensed him coming. 

Nobara was the one to touch you, but right before she made contact, you weaved out of the way and turned to face them. And when you saw they’re uniforms, you grit your teeth. Frustrated that you had been busted. Would you die right here? After everything you tried in order to blend in? You wore contacts and even wore makeup to cover up your flawless complexion, though it didn’t really do much to hide its perfection. But most humans assumed it was just the job of the makeup in the first place, so in a way it worked.

The black haired one spoke first. “You need to show me your Mythical ID, and your permit to be here in Tokyo.” His hand was outstretched already, awaiting whatever the fuck he was talking about. You hadn’t a clue what a Mythical ID was or why you needed a permit to simply live in a city. But even though you were lost with his request, one thing was clear, they knew you were a vampire. 

“I don’t have either of those. I was supposed to meet up with a friend so I’ll be on my way.” You said confidently, you weren’t about to be bossed around by some random human, who was apart of the bastards that had taken your father from you. As you turned to walk away, the pink haired one shifted to move, in position to stop you. You sneered at him, “why you-“

“If you don’t have permission to live in such close proximity with humans, you’re going to have to come with us and get booked.” The blacked haired one spoke again, you gawked at all three of them when you saw them get into position. If it was a scene they wanted, you had no objections to giving it to them. Thankfully, the shopping district was slowing down and only a few shop owners were watching. 

You could fight with little precaution to hurting the humans around you. The first one you’d have to take out was the leader, the Spiky black haired one would be difficult, but if you could defeat the woman in front of him, he’d have no choice but to defend instead of attack. The woman was strong, but she’d be no match for your speed, as for the pink haired looking idiot, you’d probably slash his throat first. 

As you turned to look at him and asses, your entire plan went up in flames when he reached out in arm closer to you, and that’s when you felt it; him. The king of curses. Sukuna. 

Knowing that this idiot looking kid was Sukuna almost made you shit your pants. Instead of calmly stepping back you had practically jumped up in the air in order to evade him. Dropping your bag on the floor, loosing your edge. Fighting was no longer an option. But fleeing was. Being a vampire meant you had plenty of years of training, combat and escaping. You knew exactly how to flee from this situation and there was no way that a pair of young curse welders would catch you here. 

You glanced at your bag on the floor infront of you, and noticed them follow your gaze. Now that you had mislead them into thinking you’d reach down for you bag, you swiftly used you super speed to turn and run away. Leaving them behind thinking that they’d be able to grab you once you reached for your bag. A quick escape meant depending on your powers, but not your strength. If you showed yourself to the humans recklessly you’d have to answer to the Raduno’s. Which you preferred not to. 

As you jumped over the heads of a crowd of humans outside the shopping districts you saw an empty street with plenty of alleys. ‘Perfect’. 

You landed on the concrete graciously with your old combat boots pleading on their last legs. But they would have to wait as you ran to cross the street, undeterred by the car that was turning in to the one way street. But out of the corner of your eye, you saw a little girl follow you to cross, probably assuming that if you had, it was safe. You cursed inwardly as you heard the car screech and honk at the little girl, warning her that the driver would not have enough time to stop before squishing her and possibly ending her life. 

Your third mistake was allowing your personal feelings distract you of your instincts. 

In mid lunged you grabbed a lamp post to swing back around and lung yourself back towards the little girl. You knew you couldn’t rely on your super strength or your eyes would glow and burn your contacts from the sheer power. So depending on your immortality and super speed, you lunged yourself right in front of the frozen girl in the middle of the street.

Your combat boots skidded across the concrete and you could feel the seams at the platform rip from the sheer force you used to throw yourself. As you stopped, the concrete under you cracked and when you starred at the car that was still attempting to stop your body was what ultimately paused it. 

Though you believed it was your immortality that had stopped the car, you felt the burning in your eyes and knew you had failed. All because of a little human girl. You’d be captured or killed, and if you did manage to escape, the Raduno’s would find you and kill you instead. 

The gush of wind that blew when you stopped the car blew your bucket hat off your head. You turned to look at the child and found her quivering in fear at your eyes and inhuman strength. Perhaps this was why vampires hated humans. They were ungrateful, clouded by fear and ignorance. 

You saw the the curse welders also turn the corner, the pink haired one arrived first. Your fear for them definitely outshined your terror of the vampire’s coven right now. So you pushed the car with your leg, and it skidded back over the front of the street, thankfully there weren’t many humans that had witnessed it. They did see however, you jumping 5 feet in the air, jumping over the side of a subway railing and jumping down to the last platform on the stairs. 

You swiftly jumped over the bars and slid into a train that was leaving, and sighed inwardly now that you were safe. Your next problem on the new agenda was to swiftly live under the Raduno’s radar until everything smooth over, you prayed that they held mercy for you. Which was highly unlikely, but if there was one thing you had left it was hope. Something had to have rubbed off on you from the humans…

As you reached the next stop you smelled the unbearable stench of a dog. The stench was something similar to a werewolf, which was highly unlikely in a train.

You bared through the smell, even though it was wafted towards you in waves. and when you glanced up, careful not to show your glowing red eyes to any humans, there watching you and sniffing the air around you was a white wolf that had a triangular symbol on the middle of its head. You could sense the cursed energy around it, so it was a safe bet that the dog didn’t belong to some human. 

You watched as it began to growl at you, and how even though humans around you couldn’t see it, were feeling it’s anger towards you. At this rate the dog would blow your cover. Many humans moved around you and even got up to move away from you. ‘Damn this stupid dog’. Your head whipped right back to stare at it’s eyes, and when it prepared to begin barking, you had reached the end of your patience for the day. To hell with all the rules and regulations and morals; you were dead anyway. 

You felt the familiar tug on a string in you snap, as you prepared to use your own very special vampire ability. “Pain.” You whispered at the dog and your growing agitation was slowly diminishing as the dog before you wailed and whined in pain. You knew it was cruel, but this dog wasn’t real, it was basically amortal. You couldn’t really kill something that was never alive in the first place. However, when you heard the urgency in the voice that cried for you to please stop, you found yourself holding back. 

You found yourself actually stopping your ability, before you ‘killed’ the dog. You turned to look at the curse welders, all three of them standing right next to you. All but the one carrying Sukuna, were panting and catching their breath. You looked at the black haired boy and thought to yourself, ‘when was the last you ever cared about somebody or something other than yourself?’ He was holding your hat, which was probably how they found you.

Before you could be questioned, you spoke to him, “why do you care for anything amortal?” He huffed before responding, the pause in his throat made you anxious, “because they never asked to be tamed, they do what I ask, in return I give them a home.” You paused as the woman dropped you bag on the floor next to you. You could feel her aggression, but you knew she wouldn’t do anything to outright disrespect you. The boy called the wolf back in to his cursed welding technique.

They all sat in the bench facing you. It was almost like they knew you were giving up. You couldn’t remember ever caring about others and their feelings before living with humans. It was only you and your father back then, he’d protect castle and you were to protect yourself. You were never taught to care about anyone but yourself, of course you loved your father and he loved you. But at the end of the day when he needed you, you did as you were trained, and you didn’t go out to help him. 

He always told you that nobodies life was more important than your own. You wondered if he was turning in his grave right now. He would be pissed to know that you were seriously considering just giving up so no human got hurt in the cross fire of the train.

Perhaps the curse welders noticed this, noticed your new change of morality as you sat there and looked at the ground. As you reached the next stop and the train was noticeably emptier, you looked up. “I’m (y/n) Cassius” You peered upward, staring at this black haired boy, hoping to know his name, caring about what he thought. You needed to know more about him, so you could end these ridiculous thoughts about his well being. 

They all introduced themselves. Megumi. That was his name. You’d never forget it, and this ridiculous feeling you had for him. 

“You should know. I won’t put up a fight for two reasons; I don’t wish to harm the humans around us, and I don’t wish to hurt you Megumi. This does not mean I wish to go with you.” They all listened to you, and when you had mentioned Megumi. He seemed shocked and confused. 

“You’re the third vampire I’ve ever meant. And you are nothing like the rest. Why did you save that little girl?” He jabbed back at you. You in turn, huffed in annoyance. You hated open-ended questions. Preferring statements over opinions and ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions. 

“No matter what I say, you’d rather believe ‘I wouldn’t have been able to control myself with her blood splattered all over the concrete’, more than you’ll believe anything else.” Then Nobara leaned forward, and stated, “don’t be so quick to assume. Tell us the truth, vampire.” She sneered, you knew she was just trying to edge you on. 

You rolled your eyes, “I simply didn’t like the idea that she would have died because she followed me on to traffic. She was trying to cross the street, so when she saw me run across so confidently, she must have thought it was safe. I didn’t wish to be the cause of her death.” You crossed your arms over each other and stared off to the side. 

Megumi couldn’t believe his eyes at your answer, could this have been the vampire that Gojo was waiting for? A high standing vampire clan member, who didn’t detest the humans? This would certainly be the perfect candidate for a monster student. He couldn’t believe this, he had met vampire before and their personalities when it came to humans, we’re all the same. They detested them, seeing them as simple meals. They held no self control, and lacked compassion, never seeing it through a humans point of view, because they were too proud to care about anyone else but themselves. 

But you were proving to be different, when he called out for you to stop hurting his shikigami, you had. Something he hadn’t expected but was thankful for. You cared about that little girl who was going to die. You saved her, even though she looked at you as the very monster you were identified as. He saw the way you flinched when you turned to look at her and the little girl was terrified- of you.

His thoughts were cut short when Sukuna appeared on Itadori’s cheek and spoke. “Look at that, a Cassius. Shame you turned out to be a half baked vampire. If your grandfather were to see you, he’d be so disappointed. I will say this though, you step out of like with these brats and I ensure you die.” As Sukuna laughed at you, the train sped through a tunnel. The three sorcerers watched as you stood frozen in place, the only thing giving away the fact you were still there in the dark was your glowing red eyes. 

The three had no idea that the old age pact your great great grandfather made with Sukuna made you venerable to his special poison in your blood. Which protected you from other poisons but allowed Sukuna to burn your blood at his will. Your fangs bit into your bottom lip in order to hold back the ear pitching scream that threatened to spill through your lips. 

You knew he only wanted to keep you close to use you. For nothing else. Staying around would mean trouble. There was a cold sweat that gathered around your forehead as the train reached the end of the tunnel, you felt the cool sensation of your ice cold blood spill from your lips. 

You clenched hands released in relief when, Yuji, smacked the little mouth and eye that was speaking, “oi, you shouldn’t speak about her like that.” As soon as Yuji had forced him to go back into hiding, you felt the burning sensation in every part of your body subside. You gasped euphorically, thankful for the pain to be over. Your father had warned you about Sukuna, being it was your clan’s legacy, but you never expected to actually experience the deadly ‘blood burn’, that Sukuna had cursed your family with for all eternity. 

“Are you alright!?” Nobara barely shouted, leaning farther towards you in her seat. You licked your lips as you looked up, staring at Megumi, feeling your healing saliva already closing the gashes caused by your fangs. “You heard Sukuna. I suppose I have no choice but to do as you ask. Or else.” 

.

And just like that, you were forced to get a monster ID and a permit to live in Tokyo. You were to sign a contract that if you sucked the blood of any human, you were to be killed as punishment. You also signed another contract that confirmed that you agreed to be investigated by any Jujutsu sorcerers if you were suspected in any way. 

Something about the entire experience was strangely biased. But their you were. Signing waiver after waiver. For a simple, Stupid, minuscule piece of paper that gave you permission to live in a city like Tokyo.

As you finally filled the last piece of paper out, Megumi guided you through the Jujutsu High school, claiming that due to violent acts in the city, the vampires coven was calling for retribution and you were going to have to speak to the elders. When you arrived there, you found a man with white hair and a tremendous amount of cursed aura surrounding him. He was powerful, very powerful. You prayed that he wasn’t here to kill you if the Raduno’s asked the ‘sorcerers’ too. You were just informed that it’s impolite to call people like Megumi, “curse welder’s”. 

“This is my sensei Gojo Saturo, He’s going to propose a deal to you.” Megumi may have warned you of the man’s intentions, but you never once thought that he’d ever ask you something like- 

“How do you feel like being the first monster-jujutsu high student?” 

It was absurd, it didn’t matter what he was proposing. It didn’t matter that you’d be safe from the Raduno’s wrath for retribution. It didn’t matter that you’d be able to stay in Tokyo. It didn’t matter that you’d be able to set an example for other vampires. You’d still be way too close to Sukuna for comfort. 

As you stood there in shock to his request, you wondered what the hell was the point of all this shit. What did this man really want from you? There was no way he was going out of his way to help a vampire like yourself. You saw the way your kind was treated. How vampires were perceived here at Jujutsu High, and though most of the facts were true, it was still pretty daft of them to assume all vampires were the same. 

At least you thought you were better than all the ridiculous assumptions about a power hunger, out of control vampire. 

“I’ll consider it, if it's the Raduno’s desire to kill me. And if they do, I accept your offer. But on the one condition, I won’t have to hide my identity, fangs, or eyes.” Gojo chuckled at your bold flip on his own deal. But smiled anyway and gave you a energetic thumbs up, “oh-kay!”

Were you scared? Of course you were, as an immortal, death wasn’t easy, usually meant being dismembered and burnt by other vampires. But if Gojo was going to pull through like he promised, then you’d at least be walking into the lion’s den with some sort of shield. 

As you stood there, listening to the Raduno’s take responsibility for your misdeeds and very obvious behavior, they asked to personally take care of you.Meaning they'd kill you. Right on time, Gojo walks in and sells you out as a slave. So you’d be in eternal indentured slave to all students and staff of Jujutsu High, in return, they’d spare your life. Though the Raduno’s were easily swayed as long as they didn’t have to pay for the damages you caused, the elder’s were far against it. 

It wasn’t until the main leader of the Raduno’s, Thibor, a tall and dark vampire who was older than most, mentioned the blood pact. Which, though you were being saved from death, you now considered, wasn’t such a bad thing. Blood pacts were tricky business and not easily broken. Not to mention it meant you were tied to a person until they died, or were killed and if they were killed, you'd die alongside them.

“I think a blood pact would ease the elders minds a-bit, at the prospect of a vampire among human students.” The 3rd main leader, Jules, rolled her eyes as her own white hair fluttered around her shoulders. Thibor added, “(y/n), since this man is offering to risk his reputation for your reckless behavior, why don’t you pick him for your blood pact?”

They were going to supervise, so you wouldn’t trick the elders in to a different pact. Smart, expected from a man as wise and old as Thibor. You shook your head, “I am grateful for his opportunity, but wish to pact with another.” If there was anyone who followed rules, but didn’t resent you, who you thought you understood, it was that boy; Megumi, he’d definitely never abuse his power, seeming as he is the few sorcerers to follow the rules to a T. But he was also the type to be swayed by his own morality, which you could use to your advantage. 

Thibor laughed down at you, “Very well, call them in.” He turned to the elders in order to inform them, “You see, blood pacts only work is the one initiating it is a consenting individual to the pact. Which in this case is (y/n), and since a human can’t initiate it, you’ll have to give in to her little nudge.” His condescending tone was deafening.

The other members of the Raduno, looked pleased at your fast wit, while some looked unnaturally bored. 

“I pick the sorcerer Megumi.” You watched as Gojo smiled softly and signaled for said sorcerer to be asked to come in. 

As you waited, the elders belittled Gojo infront of the Raduno’s, to which he stated, “she will behave with this pact. I’m sure if she doesn’t, she knows she is no match for me.”

Thibor also chimed in to say, “contrary to your belief, elder, (y/n) is actually one of our better behaved vampires. Such a shame since her father was a sight to be seen. So strong, a treasure I wished to have, but he married a hybrid and now look what he created.” Though Thibor defended you, you knew he didn’t really like you, and would rather show the vampire world that vampire breeds like you were not to be accepted. 

You knew that’s why no one helped your father when he was captured and killed. 

The door opened and everyone watched in anticipation. Megumi walking in and immediately locking eyes with yours. He only teared his gaze from yours when Gojo filled him in to why he was called in. His face and body still facing yourself as his eyes were glancing at Gojo. Though when he was informed about his responsibility, he still barred the same face. Unwavering and unassuming, like he wasn’t bothered. 

Exactly the response you wanted from someone you were going to serve the rest of your life. 

The eldest vampires stayed to watch the blood pact, in order to ensure that you’d do it correctly. You felt the intensity that wafted over you, as humans and vampires both watched the display of a vampire and a human coming together for all eternity. You explained to Megumi that in order for both of you to share a pact, he would have to give you something that biologically belong to him and vice versa. You told him the easiest way was consume each other’s blood, any amount over a drop would be enough.

You felt his pulse the second you grabbed his hand. It quickened with you hand over his. You pace yourself, allowing himself a few seconds to process as you moved along with the ritual. You had flipped his hand around so that his palm was facing you, after he watched and his heart rate lessened, you brought the wrist up to your lips. Following the ancient ritual you whispered, “Ti servirò bene” and the warm breath the fluttered on Megumi’s wrist made his face flush. He found something about your character alluring, something made him care, but something else made him feel excited. So instead of getting wrapped up in his head, he followed your movement and eyes as you proceeded. 

You closed your eyes, while simultaneously closing the gap between your lips and his wrist. You pressed a warm kiss on to him, they were soft. ‘Awfully soft.’ He emphasized to himself. And he paced himself while you slowly pulled away an inch and opened your mouth, you upper lip stretching a bit as you showcased your fangs. He tried to make sense of all the weird emotions he was feeling in this immensely stressful moment, and the pinch he felt when you bit him was quickly forgotten when your lips closed abound the cut. He felt the soft tug from you hollowing your cheeks to drink from his blood, watched you flutter your eyes open and stare back at him as you licked the wound and felt the pleasant buzz on his skin that was healing. It was defiantly a positive feeling, he enjoyed it...

He couldn’t place the swirling sensation in his chest as you gently dropped his wrist, bit your own wrist and offered it to him. As he grasped it you mentioned he was to say, “Ti tratterò bene”. He followed the instructions you had given him and he felt blood rush to his cheeks as he looked up at you and pressed a kiss on your skin. It didn’t matter that Megumi had seen other vampires before, you were the first female, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t believe the old myth about vampires being the loveliest looking creatures on earth. You continued looking as he closed his lips around your own bite. 

Though Megumi was following the directions perfectly, his lack of experience (a/n: obviously he’s a human lmfao) shone through when he sucked on your wrist way too harshly. You sucked in an airy breath at the motion and when he leaned up and licked his lips, you didn’t break your eye contact when you brought your wounded wrist to your lips and licked it clean. The indirect kiss, indisputable. Driven by the moment. 

Whoever this human was, you were driven by his own aura. Something about him was different. You could feel his heart beat now, proving that the pact had worked. You could feel it picking up, though you couldn’t tell why. You looked away and presented yourself to the vampire coven and awaited the continuing questions and dealings that the elders of the school were to sort out with you. Megumi may still have had his usual pokerface, but he was genially flustered by you. You were the fist women to stir him this way. He had always liked men better because their usual calm and stoic behaviors allured him. You were cold and tilted, unfazed at almost all times. Your only demeanor around everyone else was cold, boring, unapproachable. But when he was present, you were calm and approachable. Did you pick him out to be your next meal? 

That wasn’t it, if you were that hungry, there’d be no way that you’d be able to control yourself during the blood pact. He wondered as the elders asked about your diet, what was your most favorable thing to eat. Your voice pulled him out of his daze, “I can survive on either human food or blood. That includes the blood of animals.” The elders furthered questioned how this was possible. 

“My mother was a hybrid vampire and fell in love with a full blooded born vampire. So food Is actually something I can survive on with no problems.” The elders were slowly becoming more comfortable with the fact you’d be enrolled to the school or given a job at it. If you passed your entrance exam, you’d be enrolled and could live for free at the dormitory, if you failed you were given a job to pay for the room. 

You were given a uniform, nonetheless, a skort with a cropped blazer. (Think Maki’s skirt in the movie and Nobara’s blazer) The button up shirt you chose to wear underneath was black. So were the shoes and tightly woven fishnets you paired with it. Black was your favorite color, as ironic as it was. 

.

The next day, you walked with Megumi to Gojo’s residence when you mentioned how much you enjoyed the free space at the school. Complaining about how humans could be so comfortable being so near around each other. That was the second time he saw that part of you, open and easy. He waited for Gojo to come out and escort you to the school so that you could take the test. 

He walked in with Gojo and was surprisingly allowed to view the exam. He listened as the principal asked the age long question: Why did you come to Jujutsu high. At first you replied with, “I was forced too.” When he released the cursed doll Megumi expected it to bounce towards you, but there it was about to punch him straight in the jaw. Before he could even dodge, you appeared, from a few feet away from him, to right in front of him. Grabbing the doll with taser like precision and speed that caused tears in the stitches. Your eyes glowed when you grasped the dolls head and pulled it off of its body. The stuffing spilled on to the floor while the doll was rendered useless for a while and your eyes never left his. 

“Are you alright? Try to be more careful.” You dotted him, the doll being dropped on the floor like trash.  “I’m fine. Thank you…” He muttered. Did you do it out of care, or because of your responsibility to the pact?

You offered the teacher a new reason, “I didn’t come willingly. But from now on I will serve Megumi to the best of my ability, which includes being a sorcerer.” 

Megumi never knew he could be this intrigued by someone pleading their life to him. He felt his face drop when the principal accepted this answer, stating that he never thought he would ever hear a vampire say that in his life. And Megumi was becoming more and more tense about this pact with you. No matter what biased thing someone said about you or your kind, you were silent, unnerved. The usual eye contact you held was discarded when they spoke of you instead of to you. 

You both walked with Gojo, which you were now to refer to as Gojo Sensei, and all other staff were to be addressed as well. The elders did not care that you were actually older than them, you were still to respect them with their titles. Megumi trailed behind, his aura deepening as he was lost in thought. Gojo was jabbering in your ear, but the buzzing was too loud to ignore. You ignored your sensei and trailed behind to be beside Megumi and asked him if he was alright. 

His aura jumped before its buzzing calmed down. As a human, simple acts of compassion or sympathy would suffice for now. As time went on, it would take more to please him. You were aware, but the annoying buzzing would always catch your attention as you tried to do your own thing. Because of your pact, whenever Megumi was in a bad mood, the buzzing would continue to call for your observation. 

Gojo watched you, you were soft and direct with Megumi, any other vampire would have begrundgenly told Megumi to get out of his head, until the buzzing subsided. Perhaps you cared for him, a little more than other vampires could…

Whatever was happening between the monster and the human was clear as day to Gojo, he’d support it for now. 

. A few days later...

You stepped into the field and watched as the 2nd years tensed up. They knew you were powerful, experienced enough to feel the power radiating off of you. You were trained well and your father was all powerful as the elders had mentioned. Thankfully, he had passed it down to you. Your powers growing everyday you tapped into them. They all introduced themselves, their abilities and why they were at Jujutsu High. 

“So you cannot see curses? How have you managed to survive all this time.” You asked curiously, you didn’t mean anything by it. But you felt the others grow more awkward as you waited for Maki to answer. 

“I have specialized glasses to see them.” You nodded and left it at that. Her secrets were not any of your business to prying into. She seemed to have been grateful at that. Though you wished you could say that living with the sorcerers was more eventful than when you were by yourself. Everything was so slow compared to your own abilities. It truly felt like you were simply existing to babysit Megumi.

However, you didn’t really regret picking the student. Though you’d have been a better match in battle for a teacher like Gojo, being with Megumi was definitely a better choice, you decided after really getting to know the energetic teacher.

Megumi sat next to you as you watched the other 1st years train with the Panda. Another student you decided you liked very much. Following the routine you both usually had when they were all training.

He passed you the water bottle he had gotten you. You softly grasped it, “Thank you.” He glanced out of the corner of his eyes as you opened the bottle and took a gentle sip. He realized two things; 1. You didn’t really need the water, but was humoring him out of compassion, 2. You weren’t wearing any makeup, but you were still as beautiful as ever. Your natural skin glimmered like a diamond whenever the sun glared against it. Your blood red eyes had calmed back down to a deep burgundy. Your eyelashes were even blacker than any mascara he had seen on any women or man. Your lips were plumper then he remembered from when you first arrived. 

Everyday that passed Megumi tried harder and harder to please you. This was because of your excessive protection detail you had with him. Even if you weren’t supposed to be with him, you always were. If he was going out with Itadori and Nobara, you were always waiting. You were never impatient, never rude. You were always well behaved. When he was training, you usually sat in the back of a bleacher and watched. 

So as a thank you, he brought you a water. Though, to be honest, the more that Megumi tried to do something nice, the more he realized that you didn’t really need it or want it. But you’d still take it, or thank him politely. The only reason he was still trying was because he got to learn more about you. 

He realized you were extremely laid back, not in a cocky way, in more of a ‘waiting for something to happen’ way. 

He noticed you enjoyed talking to Panda. 

He observed that you knew how to prepare food.

He peeked at the way you trained on your own, or with Gojo. 

And on those days he realized how much you actually enjoyed sparring. You looked so satisfied being able to train without having to hold back. He watched as you eyes turned that bright red, watched as your posture gave in to savagery. 

Gojo taught you well, the faster you got, the faster he became. You never got upset when he won. That was the final thing he noticed that stood out to him. You and Gojo never held back, though he never used cursed techniques and you never hit with intentions of killing. Though he did notice Gojo rely on his infinity quite a bit when you were sparring with him. 

The way you were elegant and deadly with each blow. Like it was practiced, for years. Crafted to perfection. Nothing was out of place when you fought. And Megumi found himself watching the sparring every single time. Your raw strength was mesmerizing, he watched your flexibility in the middle of the air, watched your punches full of power as they wind back. Watched as even when you were thrown to the ground by Gojo, you caught yourself and lunged again. 

You always thanked him after the 5th sparring, and called it a day. 

There was never a clear winner in the spars, but Gojo usually knocked you down by the end of each one. 

When you walked him to his room, you grabbed his wrist, it wasn’t harsh but direct. “Your mission that’s coming up. I’m going with you.” He nodded, the last time he had gone on a solo trip without you, he had come back with a gash on his lower leg. “I’ll make sure your safe” you whispered, but he still heard it.

He fell asleep with that thought on his mind all night. Megumi had always been attracted to sweet and soft partners. This was strange, his feelings towards you. You weren’t mean per se, but you weren’t a ‘sweet’ person. You definitely weren’t soft, you were hardcore at the least. There was something alluring about the way you carried yourself, it was like you were bored and he could see why. You were created for much greater things, to be around much more powerful beings. Your whole existence was chalked up to be a blood-thirsty demon that could massacre an entire city for fun. 

You were infecting his every thought, every fantasy. He cursed at himself. He shouldn’t be having these indecent thoughts about you. But there he was laying down on his bed looking at the ceiling as he tried to calm down the growing bulge in his pants. It was late in the late by the time he was able to drift off and think of things like you. 

He had picked up a manga about something else, in order to distract himself, but as the feeling grew harder and harder to ignore, he huffed and decided to deal with it. He watched as his erection grew in his pants he tried to psych himself out and take a cold shower. But how could he walk out of his dorm to the showers with this huge bulge in his pants. It wasn’t like he didn’t find you extremely attractive but if he continued on with this, he’d have a difficult time facing you tomorrow. 

At the moment he was debating about whether or not he should go on with this perverse act, you were in your own room, cursing at himself for thinking this way. He didn’t want to touch himself to you, but more, he was afraid of seeing you after the fact. How could he face you after? 

Well, he supposed it didn’t matter much now that he had fisted his hand into pants to slowly paw at his growing erection. The manga he was reading was long forgotten, as he thought of you and your beautiful complexion. He imagined how your face could contort if you were on top of him, bouncing on his lap. 

His lazy strokes on his fully erect cock made his breath flutter as he imagined you touching yourself. He pictured what it would look like to watch you grab your chest and play with your own nipples. His hips rutted into his hands as he fantasied about your tongue on his own nipples, he relived the time that your tongue came into contact to his wrist and changed the memory to fit his lewd fantasy. 

The details were being refined as he closed his eyes, his hands moving faster to catch his release. He drank up the imagined expressions you would make if you were really here. He swore he felt the breath of another on his neck and the palm of someone slow his own. Forcing him to lag behind his ejaculation. The heat on his chest was undeniable. 

There was definitely the ghost of someone touching him. His nipples felt like they were being pawed and the heat on his cheeks moved to swirl in his head. His head fell backwards at that the possibility of you coming and taking care of him. 

He was too far gone to his own lewd thoughts to remember how perverse this actually was. You might be there to serve him, but he could never live with himself if he forced anything on to you.

His hand continued to fist harshly at himself, to the point where he had pushed his bottoms down his hips. His long member and pretty pink tip on full display. 

He felt something flutter on his own hips, something warm engulfed his own member and it wasn’t his hand. The feeling was indescribable, so warm and inviting that his hips couldn’t help but rut in to it. His sounds were barely muted as he fucked the air. The image of you printed on his mind. There was nothing or anyone else on it. Just you. 

The more he rutted in to the air, the more he felt the warmth around his cock. He had no idea what was happening, but his release was too close for him to think of anything else. 

The warmth stretched across his shoulders, his lap and thighs. It was like the familiar feeling of someone else in the room with him. Fucking him on his lap. He could faintly see your face, red eyes glowing with a fog of lust over them. Fangs on display as you moaned, your eyebrows furrowed elegantly. 

He had no idea what he just saw, if the image he imagined was some kind of wet dissociation, it had done the trick. He came straight into whatever was holding his cock as he rutted the air. 

Whatever it was didn’t leave as he continued to rut into the air, chasing the last of his high. As he finished and the warmth left his lap, he grabbed a tissue to clean up after himself.

Tomorrow when he’d see you, he’d apologize.  

~

You on the other hand were sitting on your knees on the edge of your bed, barely catching your breath. You had just finished a shower and were about to change when it happened. You huffed as your fangs began to ache for a taste of his neck.

Tonight would be a long and dry night. 

Damn this boy. 

.

Megumi was still hunted about that night every time that he saw you in the beginning of the day. That also included today. Where he was going to investigate an abandoned church that was being plagued by a curse. 

When he arrived at the car that would take you both to the location, he felt his heart beat quicken, and as if you had sensed it, you turned to face him. He felt his cheeks heat up at the quick flash back he had of that night. 

You walked over with your bag over your shoulder. “What’s that?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Gojo said he wanted me to hold this for you. Since your a close ranged fighter, having a partner hold your tool could be helpful.” He nodded at your response. 

“It’ll definitely come in handy. But don’t you need a weapon to fight a curse?” You smiled softly, which he was still the only one graced to see it, and showcased one of your hands. Flexing it to showcase your vampire claws and the cursed energy surrounding it. “Being a vampire means I don’t need one.”

He gulped as he nodded, the lewd thoughts insistent on distracting him. You both stepped in to the car and he couldn’t stop the thoughts that swirled in his head as he situated himself by the left door and instead of sitting by the other door, you sat flat next to him in the middle. 

Your knee brushed against his and he had to fight the urge to pull his leg away, that would only make it more obvious that something was torturing him. But even so, it was like you knew something was bothering him and you added fuel to the fire by leaning over towards him and asking, “Do you have any background information about when the church was being plagued?” Your warm breath caressed his ear in the confined space of the car.

You drank up his quickened heart beat and flustered cheeks as he gulped hard before responding. “Apparently the church had been plagued by little curses that looked like bats. But recently when a scout went to clean up, they were attacked by something that was far to big to be a regular curse. They mentioned it trying to communicate.” He huffed, as if he was having a trouble time breathing. 

You smirked and placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “You better calm down, your heart beat is a delicious sound, but you need to be on the top of your game for this curse.” He gulped to try and wet his throat and you could swear the sound his heart made caused another ache to your fangs. Desperate to feel his throbbing pulse against them. 

The rest of the ride was in silence as you looked out the front window and Megumi pressed his knee against yours and leaned on the door to stare out the window. The pressure his knee gave wasn’t an obvious confession, but was an invitation for you to come closer. 

As the car came to its final stop and you slid over to open the car door and Megumi’s body flushed against yours as you stopped to swish your legs out of the car. The warmth his human body could provide was delicious. 

As you stepped out, a familiar presence was felt and your once laid back and waiting demeanor changed to a guarded and tensed one. Megumi had definitely noticed the change, but before he could ask, you began walking closer and saying, “whatever is in here is no curse.”

The driver, Ijichi created the veil and warned you both to protect one another, but really he meant you. Which you had already assumed nobody really trusted you. It was fine, you had no intention of hurting Megumi or allowing anything else to harm him either. Before the veil was completely lowered you strutted towards the entrance of the church. 

As Megumi fell into step with you, he glanced to see your face as you pulled out the cursed object out of the bag and passed it to him. “Let me scope it out first. I am immortal so even if I were hurt, you can still finish the job.” Though you thought Megumi’s silence was his answer that he’d play along, there was no way he was going to let you barge in there to finish off his mission for him. Pact or no Pact, you weren't a battle weapon available to his disposal.

As you stepped inside, you smelled the air, as just as you suspected when you felt the aura, the odor also confirmed that there was no 1st grade curse. Just a monster. As you stepped in, wicked smirk branded on your face, you called out to it.

“I don’t know what you think your doing in here, but its rather ironic for a vampire to be in a church.” You felt the breeze pick up as a figure came out of an old corridor. There they were, a male vampire, who had just finished eating a corpse. Probably sucking the blood out of it until it was dry, judging by the way the blood caked around his collar. all the windows were patched up, little to no sunlight came in.

“For a second there, I thought you were another curse welder. Good to see you brought a snack. Bring it here and I’ll share my territory with you.” This was the privilege you had when you lived in the estate with your father. A territory that you never had to share or fight for.

When he looked at Megumi and licked his fangs, you stepped in front of him and snarled. “Someone ‘ought to teach you some manners.” Before Megumi could even ask for a monster ID and his permit to be in the church. You lunged forward and swiped at the vampire. 

It growled while it dodged you, “Your protecting this human? Aren’t you hungry?” You ignored it as you flew forward and gracefully swung your leg, which hit him with enough force that it sent him into the back of the church where his fall was broken by the stand in the center of the antique church. Your eyes burned, and the familiar feeling of a fight edged you on.

You looked at him sideways and scoffed, “You can either come with us the easy way, or the hard way. A vampire without an ID is to be arrested and booked.” The vampire chuckled as it got up and glared at you. 

“You little bitch, I’ll make you pay for that.” He shouted as he flew towards you, swiping his own set of claws at you. You blocked it and rose your leg again to kick him back, which he caught and through you towards the front of the church. 

You were experienced in this however, and landed on your feet, crouching and using your hands to stable yourself from the sheer force he had thrown you. The old marble flooring was no match for your claws as you ripped through it to stop yourself from banging into Megumi.

Though this fight was happening normally to you, for Megumi the entire thing was playing out too fast for him to follow. This was much faster than when you sparred with Gojo, though he had no doubt that Gojo would have no problem catching up. The only thing that allowed him to catch you both fighting was the pauses you took and the red glowing eyes you both branded. Your eyes weren't as bright as his own though.

He watched as you faltered to keep up with some of his attacks. Was it because you were rusty, or because you were out of shape? He was unsure, but there was something he noticed when you threw the nameless vampire to the ground and grabbed his head by his hair. ‘Her eyes, they aren’t as red as they usually are.’ They usually were a bright glowing red, but now they were muted and barely glowing.

He watched as you plunged a knee in to his torso, and used your other arm to grasp his neck in a chokehold, pulling upward while he yelled in pain. Megumi felt useless, but there was no way he’d be able to assist you against a freshly fed vampire. 

He watched as it clawed at your arms, and your dark red blood dripped down his hands in beads. It wasn’t until it plunged a hand in to your side that you gasped out in pain that Megumi called for you and ran towards you. 

You jumped back an in instance. “Megumi NO. Leave it to me. Get a fire started. This scum dies tonight.” The other vampire laughed, his wounds already healing. The rip in his neck already stretching to each other to heal.

“You talk a big game for a vampire that hasn’t had blood in a while. Your wounds will continue to bleed until there’s no more strength in your power and you’ll have to hibernate.” He shouted at the same time lunging towards Megumi, which you prepared for, grabbing him from the back and throwing him in to a pillar. “MEGUMI NOW.” 

He got to work on the fire with a matchbox you threw at him. While the other vampire cleared the rubble off of himself and stood, Megumi couldn’t help but over hear his words. “You little minx, once you faint, I’ll make sure to eat the human. Slowly. You may be strong for such a young vampire, but you forgot the most important thing about our immortality. We are nothing without the blood we consume!” 

You knew you were no match for this vampire if you didn’t at least consume animal blood. But the elders had made it clear that for you to live without hiding your true form, you’d have to leave those habits behind. It was hard enough finding humans that were healthy enough for consuming blood and erasing their memory after, but now you were prohibited from drinking those of animals as well. 

Your wounds would never heal at this rate. Not while you were relying all of your power on your speed and strength. If you did fall in to hibernation, you hoped that Megumi would be safe until you awoke. Or you would die as well, the double sided coin to the blood pact. 

This was why Thibor had mentioned the blood pact in the first place, he could care less what happened to a hybrid like you. 

You stared at the vampire you were fighting and introduced yourself, to which he followed, his name was Caleb, “why give introductions now, little one? Are you giving up?” You smiled as he relaxed with your playful banter. 

You built the power on the string you felt inside, it stretched until it snapped, “pain.” You whispered as you felt the power your father had given you surge out ward and disable the vampire in front of you. Your nose begin bleeding as you walked over to him. Overusing your ability with little concern of your strength.

His silence and arched back, was more than an appropriate answer to the fact that he was in ‘pain’. His knees gave out as the stabbing sensation spread down his legs, he was gasping like a fish out of water. The pain too strong to process and accept. 

Your grin was wicked, something sinister as you walked over and kicked him on to his back. He gasped in pain, the feeling unbearable to overcome. The more he tried to ignore it or bear through it, the more intense it became. You stomped on his throat and grabbed his head, fingers digging into his cranium like it was made of rubber. “You’ll never be able to threaten my human again.” You growled, which was definitely heard by Megumi.

You pulled his head off of his body, the ripping sound of flesh, bone and squirting blood cause Megumi to look away. He only looked up when you appeared in front of the fire and threw the screaming head in. 

“Vampires like him will never live peacefully with other humans. Vampires do have self control, we could feed off of humans without killing them.” You said, his body thrashing in pain, in your other hand. Once the head was quiet, you threw the body in fire and he watched as the fire grew. 

Who knew vampires were so flammable. 

He turned to ask you if you were okay, as he watched you eyes flutter closed and sway forward, he felt an urgency to try and catch you. Even though you hadn’t fallen, he grabbed both of your shoulders and guided you away from the fire and sat you on the floor. The blood dripping from your arms and side to major to ignore. It was concerning how the wounds weren’t closing. 

“Is it true what he said? Can you not heal without human blood?” You shook your head ‘no’, but it did nothing to calm his concern about you. “Your wounds aren’t healing. What should I do?” 

“I..need…”, Your nose began to bleed again, and Megumi felt his desperation grow. “Anything, I’ll do anything, just tell me,” your soft voice pulled him in closer until his ear was by your mouth. 

“I need your blood…” You croaked while you leaned forward, pulled his uniform down and greedily bit in to his neck. Megumi could have pulled away if he wanted to, you weren’t holding him down. But after saving his life, choosing a human over another vampire- he didn’t have the heart to refuse you the one thing that could save you. The euphoric feeling of your fangs on his neck was familiar and very inviting. 

You realized how hypocritical you were being. But you could have healed fine if you had been eating some animal blood, but deprived of that, your wounds were far to severe now to heal without human blood.

Too weak to suck his neck harshly, you softly suckled. Noticing the soft groans and whimpers that escaped him. If he was opposed to you using him, he had a very awful way of showing it. His blood was nothing like the others you had. You noticed this during the blood pact. The smell of his blood was intoxicating and you knew it wasn’t because of the pact that you now both shared. It was more than that, when you first had tried his blood, you weren’t as confident as you usually were that you’d be able to pull away. At this very moment you weren’t so sure either.

Your strength was defiantly returning as you pulled away to see his face, his lashes fluttered and his eyes were hazy. You slowly leaned back in and bit into the other side. His whine was barely audible as the fire a few feet away from you kindled. You softly suckled, spurred on by the glorious scent his blood left behind. His arm gingerly held you in place. ‘Did he truly want this?’ Or were you forcing him…

You searched for the will power to stop, but the way he whimpered in ecstasy made you forget all morality. You licked the wound to heal it with your saliva. Turning over to the other bite that was leaking his precious substance. You hungrily lapped it up, closing it in the process. Whatever Megumi had to him, forced you in to a frenzy. Your wounds were already healing, you could feel your strength start to return. You leaned forward and and Megumi seemed all too hung over the euphoric feeling of your love bites to pull away. 

“Is this okay?” You whispered as you licked his neck once more to feed from him. If he verbally gave you permission, you wouldn’t feel so guilty. He nodded gingerly, “yes..” 

His whispered response was all you needed as you bit his neck once more with more vigor than before. His gasp only edged you on even further. As you sucked on him, his groans only grew, and your hunger did as well. You prayed to whoever was listening that you’d have the power to lean back and carry him to the car once this was over. But obviously that wasn’t the plan as Megumi huffed in your ear and arched his back in to you. 

Something in you snapped, something new. It was nothing you had ever felt before when feeding on other humans or vampires. You reached a hand down to paw at the growing bulge in his pants. When he jumped from your hand, you pulled him back. No longer wishing for permission or wanting his approval. He needed you and you would serve him well…

When you rubbed at him once more, his body tensed and his heartbeat slowed. If you kept feeding off of him, he’d faint. Or die.

If you were to kill him, you would die as well, but the taste of him on your tongue only encouraged you further to feed. His hand on your shoulder was what brought you back to reality. Killing him wasn’t beneficial to anyone, even if you lost control, it would be on your hands. You pulled back, harshly until you felt the old wall of the church hit the back of your skull. You felt it crack under your force. It was the only thing that woke you from your hungry daze. 

Sucking in a breath, you could see Megumi’s flustered state. His mouth agape, and his chest heaving, you could hear his slow heart beat. And could feel the bulge in his pants shrink due to his lack of blood circulation. There was no way you’d please him in this dingy church with the smell of a vampire’s corpse burning next to you. You leaned forward slowly and pecked him on his lips. Leaning over to heal the bite you had left him. Fixing his uniform while you whispered in his ear. “Let’s get you back to the school so you can rest. We’ll tell Sensei you were attacked by the vampire.”

He nodded and rested his head against your shoulder. He was never this vulnerable with anyone, that much was clear to you after the 4 weeks you had to get to know him. He was weak from the blood you had taken, he was going to need a minute to at least find the strength to walk outside to the car. Not to mention you’d have to call Ijichi to lower the veil.

Now as you thought, you had completely forgotten to protect Megumi, even from yourself. And here he was sluggish on your lap because you didn’t know how to contain yourself. You huffed and pulled him closer, “I’m sorry, I should have never placed this burden on you.” He shook his head a bit as to protest, but you ignored it. It didn’t matter what he said, you had harmed him, whether or not he saw it that way, everyone else would. Sooner or later he would realize that too. You reached down to grab his hip to steady him and you lifted him up effortlessly. 

Megumi wouldn’t lie, that was the first time a woman had ever embraced him the way you had. But he was grateful for the care you were taking with him as you wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders and carried him out. Reaching outside, you grabbed the phone from his pocket and opened it to call Ijichi and asked him to lower the veil and informed him that Megumi was to weak to carry himself. 

As the veil was being lifted, he saw Ijichi run towards him and saw the panic in his eyes. He also didn’t miss the disdain that he threw towards you. No matter what you did, Megumi noticed that all humans would fear the worst from you. But he saw the truth, you weren’t a careless vampire that was driven by greed and power. You were a kid just like him, trying to find a life worth living. 

This time as you sat in the car, you sat by the door, away from him. He wanted to let you know that there was nothing wrong with what you did, but his heavy eyes forced him to sleep before he tried to disperse any more energy. He’d have to tell you later on. 

[ushidoux]

Good Teacher - Sugawara x Reader

Summary: You meet Sugawara on an online dating app expecting something tame, but get more than you expected. (~3.1k words)

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, some features are described ***, dom/sub dynamics, collaring, daddy kink, breathplay, dacryphilia, spanking, edging, toy use, restraint use, sub drop

A/N: Again, this was a commission so some features are described!! Otherwise, please enjoy my first longer BDSM fic.

---

Being alone in your bedroom at 9pm on a Friday night may have felt like a loss on any other day, but today, with your phone buzzing non-stop and every neuron in the sexy parts of your brain firing, you could not think of anything else you would rather do.

Well, actually you could think of a few, and most of them involved slipping out of your pajamas and slipping under your new flame.

Sugawara Koushi.

A name like that sounded sweet. Maybe even bland. Safe.

When you’d swiped right on his profile on the tamer of your social media apps, you’d expected someone mild-mannered and easy to speak to. He was an elementary school teacher with soft features, white hair and a cute mole under his left eye. He couldn’t possibly be as forward as the other guys you’d dealt with over the years. A tame, responsible choice.

You’d started texting back and forth quickly, with polite, formal introductions which progressed to cute messages and long phone calls, and you’d even managed a very chaste first date where he’d picked you up at 8pm on the dot and taken you to a fine restaurant on the water.

You normally would have expected to be dicked down that night, and had paired sexy lingerie under your silky mauve dress for exactly that, but you weren’t too surprised when he left you at your doorstep with a peck on the forehead.

The only unsettling thing about the kiss was the way his eyes had lingered on your lips, just as his fingers trailed the curve of your jaw as he tucked your hair behind your ear. It was too practiced, too… dominant.

You suspected he was holding something back.

And he was, because once you’d ventured to call in the middle of the night, a little bit tipsy and yearning for a little bit more than a smile and a gentle touch from him, you’d broken some sort of dam.

He’d called you a needy, desperate, pretty little slut, desperate for Daddy’s cock but needing to prove herself that she was willing to ride with Daddy’s very, very strict set of rules first, and you’d practically cum at the sudden turn of his voice.

Now anything was fair game.

I have… particular taste. Are you sure you can keep up, princess?

The warmth between your legs and the image of full balls and a weighty, rigid cock told you, you would absolutely be ready for anything he had in store for you. 

Yes, daddy. I’m up for anything you want.

You, of course, couldn’t see the wide smile spreading across his face on the other end, as he palmed his cock slowly while reading your texts and admiring your nudes, and texted back:

We’ll need a shit ton of rope.

---

Sugawara’s hands are much larger than you’d anticipate, and rougher, and you wonder how much of it is due to high school athletics or from the fact that he’s quick to slap or spank you at any chance he gets. Your skin is sometimes red, sometimes bruised, and always marked, and it’s exactly the way you like it.

The first time you have sex, he starts you off as though you are the most shy of virgins even though you claim that you’re not exactly inexperienced.

“I wouldn’t want to break you, pretty girl,” he teases, as his hands worship your body, tracking down your waist to the center of your legs, and patting your cunt softly. Today, he’s promised to focus on your pleasure only because he wants to “break you in.” You wonder how many he’s “broken in,” then you realize you don’t really care. You’re his one and only princess right now, and you intend to be for quite a while. 

The pleasure of being a good dom is that he can choose to serve - he can choose to be doting and he can choose to be harsh with punishment. Since it’s your first day since you’ve entered this contract with him, he’s decided to focus on the catering part of his personality, and familiarize you with his desires.

The rose-gold Turian collar on your neck compliments your skin well, he takes note, as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth and leans you against him while you are seated on the edge of the bed and he’s kneeling just so before you, fingers deep in your cunt.

“You’re gonna keep that pretty little thing around your neck, aren’t you, pretty baby?”

His fingers move so fast that it’s hard for you to speak, and the arm that’s wrapped around your waist and keeping you flush against him is tightening the longer he continues. He’s a lot stronger than he looks, you know from every heavy spank he’s given you.

“I-I will, daddy, every day and every night,” you pant out, your tongue lolling as his fingers curve upwards and his lips leave your nipple with a soft pop and make their way to your quivering mouth.

“Good,” he whispers as he bites your lower lip. “You’re so obedient… I like that in a little one,” he affirms.

---

He’s kind when he teaches, patient even. 

He’s also generous; he gifts you with your first corset, a dark, lacy and tight thing that almost takes your breath away initially, especially when he tightens it onto you himself. Even if it’s constraining, you feel empowered from the very moment you look in the mirror. Your breasts sit high, and you spin once in a gesture of delight; he kisses down your neck as you admire yourself.

“This is only to get you used to a little bit of restriction,” he reassures, as he pulls you into his lap. “But I can’t deny that you look breathtaking.”

---

Since you’ve been so bold as to take his breath away, it isn’t too long until he decides he wants to see what you look like when you’re truly struggling for air. After all, the little shiny thing around your neck catches his eye way too often for his comfort, and his pants suddenly feel too tight for a casual grocery store run.

Your safeword is red, like the blood that courses through your veins as his fingers tighten around your throat.

He thumbs your pink, puffy lips, and it would be loving if he wasn’t calling you a stupid little cocktease.

“Pretty little bambi, prancing around like you’re free to be with anyone other than me.”

The breath that tickles your face is a taunt, because you’re slowly getting lightheaded, barely able to focus on the long index finger he’s commanding you to suck. 

The pressure he puts on your neck is varying; for moments you can draw a single staccato breath, which encourages him to press his lips to yours and absorb you in a kiss before he reapplies pressure; his naked body presses against yours, rolling painstakingly slow. He hasn’t even entered you yet.

Breathplay, he calls it.

You gasp as his cock slips into your wet entrance just as fast as his hand leaves your throat, and he too draws a deep breath as he fills you to the hilt. 

He lets out a soft laugh as he caresses the hair that is sticking to your face, and readjusts himself yet again - of course, he’s also better endowed than you’d expect him to be - before he picks up speed and chokes you again.

---

“I… Kou-”

“Daddy,” he stresses, unphased as he continues to press a small clitoral stimulator to your tender, overworked bud.

“D-Daddy~” you cry out in a soft, drawn out whine, and you shift a little bit because the ties that keep your ankles attached to the legs of the chair, your pussy exposed and vulnerable with your crotch wide open, are starting to dig into your skin. But you can’t move all that much, there’s additional rope around your waist that keeps you against the back of the chair and you think the soft satin that keeps your wrists behind you is probably overkill, even if you have to admit you like the color.

“Yes, sweetheart~” he whispers in a voice accented with assertive sweetness, his eyes still lowered and focused on the heave of your chest as he watches you drip before him.

“I-” 

You scream.

He’d angled the toy upwards, and somehow within the small bundle of nerves he’s targeted an even more precise cluster of endings - there’s a flash of white you see before you cum practically violently, lurching forward so rapidly that he has to keep the chair steady so that you won’t fall over on the pretty little face he adores.

It’s possibly the fourth time he’s had to ground you in the past hour, and it’s an act of mercy because he had been edging you repeatedly, forcing your pussy to clench desperately around nothing but air.

The way you gush and spray so lewdly onto the chair, onto the floor, onto the hand he plays on your sopping wet pussy reminds him he chose very, very well.

---

It’s nearly silent and it’s dark now, far too dark for you to see. 

Your Koushi has prepared you for this next step lovingly, sometimes not so lovingly over the past couple of weeks to build up to this.

The blindfold that obscures your vision is soft and slightly sweet smelling, as though spritzed with a floral scent about a day ago prior to this. Again your hands are bound, but he’s used lined handcuffs instead of ties, and your wrists are before you, not behind you. 

But you’re lying on your belly, a spreader forcing your thighs apart. He must really love the way your pussy looks staring him in the face.

“You seem to be a glutton for punishment, princess,” he says, accenting his words with a hard slap on your inner thigh. You gasp, but his hands linger tighten, and are then followed by what can only be the press of his tongue against the stinging portion.

“Daddy, I’ll behave, I’m so sorry,” you moan as his hand grips a generous portion of your asscheek.

But you won’t behave, because you’ve learned that Suga likes just a touch of bratty behavior and that gets him quite physical with you. He knows this just as much as you.

He slaps your ass fervently, the slight jiggle drawing a pleased sigh from his lips.

“You’re a silly little slut, though…” he starts, rubbing a hand along the length of your thigh, “how can I trust any of your promises?”

His finger travels to your open center, and when he sees you tense up, he stops.

“You need a firm hand to guide you always…”

His right hand curves again around your cunt and his middle and ring finger finds its way into your slippery hole, while his index taps your clit and his little finger (he’s dexterous like this), taps ever so lightly around your asshole. 

You shudder.

“Arch your back, you little cumslut. Make it easy for daddy.”

As you inch backwards slowly using your elbows and knees to rise up, his right hand continues to move with you, but then his other hand lands heavily on your other asscheek.

It breaks your concentration and you almost fall because it takes quite a lot more energy than you would expect to move this way with your hands bound and your legs spread, but you persevere. 

For him.

Before you can whine once you’ve gotten into position, he withdraws his hand from your cunt.

“No!” You find yourself shrieking before you realize. You can’t have him edge you again, he’s absolutely cruel, you can’t…

“Oh, I thought I called the shots here, princess,” Sugawara reminds you, voice honeyed and cruel. You can feel his fingers weave into your hair and the warm tip of what must be his cock prod at your entrance.

“Sir, please~”

“Beg.”

He spreads you open with a hand massaging your ass, again tapping teasingly all around your vagina, but he won’t push in to give you the pleasure of having his cock inside you.

Your heart is pounding with desire.

“Please!”

“Please what?”

“Please fill me up, daddy!”

That statement of desire earns you an inch, an inch that makes you swallow saliva hard and your muscles tense with need and want.

“M-more, more please!”

“You’re so demanding. I would say your eyes are bigger than your pretty little pussy, but you can’t see, can you?”

He laughs, but he pushes in further another inch, than another, moving painstakingly slow, slow enough that you’re biting your lower lip until blood is drawn. The stretch is achingly delicious but it leaves you starved for more.

You’re begging and whining, and soon you’re trying your best to sink onto him further but he’s got you restrained for a reason.

“Greedy little bitch,” he murmurs, but he kisses your neck lovingly as he fills you to the hilt.

The unmistakable noise of flesh hitting flesh and minimal friction fills the room but you care less about sound, only about the slap of his balls against your cunt as he thrusts into you from behind.

More. Deeper. Faster. Harder.

He’s a master at drawing desire out of you, you wonder if you even needed these toys and ties and other accoutrements. You’re already so utterly wrapped for him. 

---

There’s a movie playing on your screen that you had both been pretending to watch, cuddled together on the couch, your legs resting across his lap. You had barely gotten through the opening credits before he pulled you onto him fully and had you straddle him.

“You want a snack, pretty baby?” He whispers, as though it weren’t just the two of you staring in each other’s eyes.

Your eyelashes bat and you nod.

He doesn’t break eye contact while he reaches for a strawberry, fresh from the farmer’s market you’d strolled through this morning, from a bowl set on the table. 

This one is drizzled in chocolate, and he runs it along the length of your collarbone, eye contact still heavy and unflinching before he dips down to catch it in his mouth.

It hangs out halfway from his teeth and he cues you to take it from him mouth to mouth. You split half of it, letting the sweet tartness permeate your senses.

His arm hooks around your waist and pulls you in close as he presses his lips against yours. You weren’t aware of the glob of strawberry-flavored saliva he’d collected until he draws away, tilts your head back and tells you to open up wide so he can spit directly into your mouth.

---

“Swallow.”

Suga’s relentlessly pounding an erect, frustrated and thick cock into your mouth, past your teeth and down your poor throat, and he’s close to his release now, you can tell by the way he’s now pressed your face so far against him that his carefully cropped pubes prick your face.

He’s warning you beforehand, and you’re thankful for the warning because when he cums with a soft, almost angelic moan, his penis jerks inside your mouth ever so slightly, and there’s a gush of hot, slippery liquid that slides down your throat.

You breathe through your nose. He tastes sweet, maybe it’s because of the strawberries from just earlier today, but nevertheless it’s a pleasant liquid you gulp down around his cock.

He loves the way your throat feels when it clamps around him, especially when you initially gag once accepting his cock.

You’re perfect.

“Come up, darling,” he bids you, pulling you up from your position on your knees.

“Are you gonna fill me up, daddy?” You mewl softly as he lifts up and carries you before laying you on your back.

“Yes, pretty baby, but let me taste your juicy little cunt first,” he says before he dives in between your legs.

---

“You’re so good for me, you know that, don’t you?”

He kisses your neck softly as he holds you close to him while you lay in bed together. It’s close to 1am and he’s focused on aftercare, caressing your arms and waist and the curve of your hip gently. You’re facing away from him, not because you’re upset, but because you’re exhausted.

He’s worried you’re having a sub-drop; after all, he’s spent the last two hours slapping your face and calling you disgusting. He wonders if you forgot to use your safe word.

You’re new to this and he’s put you through a lot in the past few weeks.

“Sweetness,” he whispers, directly into your ear. “Look at me?”

You turn, cheeks still flushed from particularly hard slaps. His heart aches a bit for you, because those sweet lips are pulled downwards into a frown and he’s not sure if those are fresh tears that wet your eyelashes. 

He kisses your eyelids then rests his chin on the top of your head.

“Are you doing okay, my princess?”

You nod and reach for his face with your fingertips. Your dom softens under your touch because you are so precious to him. His fingers close around yours and he kisses your forehead.

“The most important thing is your comfort,” he asserts. He taps the collar around your neck that suggests in some way that you are his and he is yours. “You can take this off at any time.”

You wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into his chest. It’s been fun and it’s also been freeing to have him take care of you. There’s a soft haze that wafts around your brain lately as you surrender to him. You are in love with him, deeply, in such a short amount of time.

“I would never,” you say, finally. 

His heart skips a beat.

“Unless you want to buy me a nicer one, of course.”

He chuckles. 

“You’re a feisty little one, aren’t you?” He remarks. He’s glad to look down at you and see you smiling again, eyes bright and brown. He reaches for your ass cheek, then raises your leg so that it lies across his hip. 

Your eyes twinkle with mischief.

“Well, that’s why you picked me to teach, isn’t it?” You raise an eyebrow, and the cheeky grin on your face is enough to make him get absolutely hard again.

Of course, only if you’re up to the task.

Suga bites gently on your lip again, his hand on your thigh. 

“I didn’t expect you to learn so quickly.”

“Maybe you really do have the gift of teaching,” you reply, as you stick your tongue into his mouth.

[hopeyallenjoy]

First time

Tell me the truth Severus. Don't you want me?

Pairing : Young Severus Snape x Fem!Reader 

Warnings : slights smut ; severus switch and reader switch ; dom/sub kink ; little bit of swearing ; alone at house ; bathroom teasing 

Wordcount : 3,504 words

Request : Marauder era Severus x reader’s first time 

Resume : That’s the same request as “An eventful birthday” but I did it with a more bold reader and only Severus' first time. Hope you’ll enjoy it just as much ! 

Y/l/n = Your last name Y/n = Your name 

"She asked you what?" said Lucius as he and Severus headed to their common room.

"She invited me to come spend the weekend at her house over the vacations," Severus repeated, rolling his eyes to the sky.

"Tell me mate, you've been dating Y/l/n for how long now?" Lucius as he opened the door to their dormitory.

"9 months." he replied.

"And you've already gone beyond a simple kiss? You know, despite what they say about young wizards, it's the young women who are the most hormone-driven. Think about it, Severus! That's why they're all so obsessed with love. They need a man and they need him to be their own to calm their ardor. And it's even truer for the veela.”

Severus shook his head negatively, setting his things down on his bed. Lucius couldn't help but smile mischievously at his friend.

"What are you getting at?" he asked when Malfoy didn't continue.

"My point is that she didn't invite you to chat. She wants you, Severus Snape, the dark male, to take over and make her your bitch.” Severus widened his eyes, not expecting such a revelation.

Was this really the case? You were a former student of Durmstrang Institute who had arrived at Hogwarts at the beginning of seventh year even though you were already of age. Because of the reputation of your former school, rumors about you had spread within a week of school, claiming that you were an accomplished black mage or a monster from the darkness, a cross between a veela and a vampire. You ended up in Slytherin, which wasn't entirely in your favor. You even had to deal with the most popular students in the school who were self-appointed protectors of Hogwarts and wanted to check the rumors.  Luckily for you, you were persuasive. You weren't a dark mage or a monster, but you had learned enough from Durmstrang to stand up for yourself and stop anyone from stepping on your toes.

After your little show of strength, girls started coming to you when a boy bothered them and guys who thought they were irresistible, like Lucius Malfoy or Sirius Black, came to try their luck with you. You'd packed them all, one by one. None of these boys were interesting for you, you only had eyes for your Potions and DADA partner, Severus Snape, the only one who didn't ogle your form even when he thought you didn't see him, the only one who shared your curiosity about dark magic, and especially the only one who didn't seem to be interested in you. That's what you liked about him, he really wasn't interested in you, or at least not more than in friendship, until you spent more and more time with him and finally confessed your love. 

In fact, you didn't really do that, you two just kissed on a full moon night in the astronomy tower and it was so natural between you that you just started acting like a couple. Holding hands during Hogsmeade outings or during classes, kissing for hours in your common room while all the other students were watching Quidditch matches, taking turns reading  poetry under the moonlight every night or so. In short, everything was done in a natural way, without the need for embarrassing confessions or the obligation to call each other ridiculous names. No, you had no obligation to each other, you just saw other as you pleased, doing the things you liked and it was just... perfect. 

The more Severus thought about it, the more he thought how stupid it would be to change that.

Add sex to such a perfect relationship? No way. It wasn't that he didn't find you attractive, on the contrary, he simply found you breath taking and sometimes wondered what such a beauty was doing by his side but he wasn’t sure that sex was for him. Sex was always something you grow tired of, and there was so much about it that he didn't know, he was sure he would disappoint you if you ever introduced sex to your relationship. Everything Severus Snape knew about sex, Lucius had told him, and if there was one thing he had learned from his friend's stories, it was that sex was complicated. 

Then when he presented himself in front of the door of the manor Y/l/n, he was well decided to keep his pants on. He knocked and expected to see one of your parents open the door for him, but he came face to face with your little face when the big door was fully opened. His eyes didn't leave your face but his peripheral vision allowed him to see that you were dressed a little lightly for the season, a simple t-shirt pulled over your tantalizing curves. He swallowed hardly. Keeping his pants on seemed much more difficult now. 

"Hello, Sev'. I see you're still on time. You'll excuse me, this time it's me who's a little late." you gave him your best smile and invited him to come in "My parents aren’t here so I took the opportunity to sleep in a little longer.”

Well, that wasn't entirely true, but he didn't need to know that, did he? You'd been up for a while and had spent the morning getting ready for the special weekend ahead. Despite the blasé expression you wore, inside you, your hormones and your heart were racing. Your little Severus was just beautiful and you were even more aware of it now that you saw him without his school uniform.

“Do you mind if I go put something on quickly?“ you asked without noticing the gleam of desire in the eyes of your companion. 

He shook his head negatively too happy that you propose of yourself to remove this angelic vision of which he had difficulty to get out. Merlin what you could be beautiful. You left to change your clothes after taking him into the great hall. Severus was trying to calm his imagination as he gazed out at the garden of your house that could be seen from the living room window. He was still standing there when you returned from your room, looking so absorbed that you had to pull him by the sleeve to get his attention. When he turned around he was breathless again. You had changed but your new outfit didn't help his case at all. You were now wearing a flowing black knee-length dress with a white corset that showed off your slim waist and gently carried your swaying breasts. If he was to believe what he saw, you weren't wearing a bra and he hoped... no panties either. 

"Severus...are you okay?" you questioned as he said nothing.

Severus quickly pulled himself together, serving you one of his grinning smiles that only he had the secret to. What was he talking about? Wasn't he the one who wanted to keep your relationship simple and natural? As recently as thirty minutes ago? And now he was the one who imagined you fucking on the floor, after having torn off your little black dress. This weekend was getting more and more complicated for him. He nodded nevertheless seeing the worried look that you threw to him, the back of your hand put on his forehead as if to see if he had a fever.

"Are you sure? You're all red?" he took your hand, squeezing it gently.

"Yes, yes. It's just your beauty that bewitches me," he said, placing a light kiss on your hand.

It was your turn to blush. Severus' compliments were rare and always came when you least expected them, so when he complimented you, you took full advantage. You kissed him tenderly.

"Idiot. You scared me."

He savored her words in turn, still not used to someone worrying about him and showing it.

"I should scare you more often if you kiss me like that every time" he murmured a sneer stretching his lips.

"You know very well that I would kiss you every day like that even if I wasn't worried. You just have to ask me or... do it on your own.”

At the fiery look you gave him, Severus stiffened and looked away a little.

"Do you have a chess set? It's been a long time since I've played against the grand queen of chess," he said in an attempt to divert your attention.

This worked in part, you nodded and went to get your chess set and then you sat down at the small table near the window. It was a hectic late afternoon of battles and verbal jousting, all of it friendly and good-natured. Even if your thoughts were turned to the particular behavior of your boyfriend. You wanted to wait for him to come and explain to you on his own what was the problem but you were sure he wouldn't. You didn't embarrass him with a serious discussion though, not wanting to spoil the wonderful weekend ahead. And you were right. Severus, on the other hand, was having a hard time concentrating, with hot scenarios taking up all his attention. If you had always been a bit daring, he had never noticed before, too busy admiring your little face or your knowledge of dark magic. And now he was biting his fingers, having the impression to rediscover the wild beauty that you were.

Laughing loudly, arm in arm, you entered the kitchen, your bellies rumbling. You brought in the leftovers from the night before and you gobbled them up in a few seconds, neither you nor he being picky in terms of food and it wasn't as if you had eaten mud, quite the contrary. 

It was your father who had made the food the day before. He had deliberately prepared more food than he needed, not wanting to leave his princess without food during the long weekend he was going to spend away from you.Because yes, you had fought for your parents, especially your father, to leave you at the mansion alone. Yet they knew you could handle yourself, after six consecutive years at Durmstrang, it was rare not to know how to handle yourself. 

The meal was just as nerve-wracking for Severus as he couldn't help but make you laugh which made your breasts jiggle under the thin fabric of your dress. You even bent down to grab the pepper on the table which allowed him to see that you were indeed not wearing a bra. He almost choked, his imagination and hormones still running wild. By the end of the meal, Severus was convinced that he was going to lose his mind before the end of the weekend if it continued like this.

"Y /n, could I know where the bathroom is? I'd like to take a shower before I go to sleep, if that's possible," Severus asked, convinced that a nice cold shower would put his mind at ease.

"Oh, of course. The bathroom is upstairs. It's the first door on the left. Do you need me to lend you something? Slippers, a nightgown?” you asked as a particularly Machiavellian idea appeared in your mind.

At this point of the evening, you had understood that your boyfriend, who you thought was so innocent, had started to understand that you were no longer a child and that your body was indeed the one of a young adult. Seeing him almost choke at each movement you made and that revealed a little more of your forms, was, it had to be said, a most amusing spectacle. So you let him go up the stairs to the bathroom and slowly followed him once the plates were washed and put away.

Meanwhile, Severus had slipped out of his black clothes and into the bathtub, which was filled to the brim. It wasn't every day that he could afford a nice hot bath and he was sure you wouldn't mind if he took a few drops of the Muggle lotions that adorned the rim of the big tub. He slipped all the way into the water, after a deep breath, desperate to calm his ardor. If Severus Snape was so determined not to give in to temptation it was mainly due to the bad treatment he had received from the Marauders, humiliating him to the point where his body was dripping and he was unable to touch himself, even alone. So how could he have succeeded in maintaining a carnal relationship with anyone? Love, love was different, he felt it and managed to express it, but sex? Very little for him. Finally, this afternoon spent by your side had shown him that even if the thing seemed inconceivable to him, he was still capable of desiring someone. And to want you, he wanted you really bad. He opened his eyes, his head still immersed in the bathtub, and saw through the water a figure towering over him. He emerged from the water recognizing your little face. 

There you were, standing in front of him, you had left your corset behind and were now wearing only your black dress. Your face was still impassive.

"Y/n? What the..." he began.

"Sev', do you love me?" you didn't let him finish, starting your Machiavellian plan. "Because I'm starting to doubt it, you know? You've been acting weird ever since you got here. So tell me the truth, Severus. Don't you want me?" as you spoke his words, you let your robe slip off at your feet showing yourself completely naked to him. 

Severus could not believe his eyes. In that moment, he couldn't stop his eyes from devouring you, his cheeks from turning red, and his sex from growing. The fire that swept over him was so sudden that it took his breath away. You were satisfied with your little effect, but when Severus didn't move, just clung to the edge of the tub, you slid as sensually as possible into the bath without taking your eyes off him. Severus watched you, holding his breath. Yes, you were definitely going to drive him crazy. 

"-Severus, how do I look?" you asked again as he still hadn't said anything.

"Y/n... You don't know what you're saying. I... I want you so much, you can't even imagine how much but..." Severus was short of breath, "I've never done anything, never even t-touched myself. I wouldn't know how to... I wouldn't know how to do it and I could only..." you cut him off, kissing him gently as tears of frustration flooded down his face.

 You felt a little bad now that you knew the truth. You had never wanted to made him cry but you understood that he needed to cry so you let him, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his eyes, in fact, everything that was within your reach, wanting to reassure him a maximum.

"Shhhhh Sev'... It's okay, don't worry. I'm here.  Shhhhhh... Oh boy ! I could never be disappointed in you, Sev' I assure you. So please don't cry anymore. I hate seeing you like this. I love you so much, you know." you continued to kiss him with your arms around his neck.

"I-i love you so much t-too ," he replied between sobs. 

Severus was drowning in your affection, his whole body burning. He felt so good in your arms, covered in your kisses. You covered him with tender kisses for another moment, telling him how beautiful he was in your eyes between two kisses. Once the sadness passed, he wanted to return your affection, covering the zebra skin of your breasts with soft kisses which felt like butterfly wings. Then the butterflies became more urgent as your hand clung to his ebony hair and your lips let out sighs of pleasure. You pulled your lover's face up to steal a passionate kiss, your two foreheads finally pressed together, your body slightly elevated as Severus had his arms around your waist.

"Do you... do you want to go all the way Sev'? I certainly don't want to force you to do anything you don’t want, love."

How? Weren't you supposed to not give him ridiculous nicknames? I don't remember saying that. Severus nodded, pulling you tighter against him.

"Guide me, Y/n," he breathed.

His voice was infused with desire, as was his entire body. He was overflowing and tense with desire beyond your touch. You placed his hands in the places you knew were your pleasure points, guiding him to know what to do. His lips came to rest on your neck as you told him to, as your hands slid gently through the cool bath water to land on his crotch. It may have been hard to believe but Severus Snape was very well built, his sex was moderate in size but not all the way down, his base and glans were wider than the rest. It was also slightly curved towards the glans. If you hadn't already had other relationships you wouldn't have realized just by touching him, that Severus was just perfect for you. Your fingers began to do him good, drawing grunts from him that made your skin tingle as he didn't stop his attentions. When you felt him grow a little larger in your hands you stopped your stroking, spreading your own legs just enough for him to enter.

"Severus... I want to cum with you..." he understood the invitation taking his sex in his hands and positioning it facing the entrance to your pussy. 

He didn't really know what to do once he entered so it was you who guided him again, initiating back and forth, impaling yourself a little more each time, your hands resting on his shoulders. Severus moaned with each return, feeling your insides react to his member. You weren't especially tight, but he was still able to fill you up completely. You guided him for a moment and then he felt confident enough to take over. Slowly but surely, he varied the strength of his thrusts. Then he added his lips in your neck making you plant your nails in his shoulders when a so good and... unexpected pleasure. Instinctively, he squeezed you tighter as the last thrust inside you came accompanied by waves of immeasurable pleasure. He had finished before you but you were so close to cumming that you couldn't stop a groan of frustration from coming out of your mouth.

"This one is different from the others. Did I hurt you?" Severus fretted as he came to stop, causing you to let out another frustrated moan.

"No, no, no ! I... Can you go on a little longer, please? I'm not far..." you whispered in his ear. 

He undulated his pelvis gently under you, a sneer coming to perch on his lips.

 "What exactly do you want, Y/n? I need you to explain it to me precisely, please. I don't think I'm experienced enough yet to understand your demands without you finishing your sentences," he said, kissing your temple. 

He knew perfectly well what he was doing now. You wanted to protest by realizing it but it had started again to undulate under you, letting out of your mouth only words drowned between your moans. He ended up kissing your temple again, letting you breathe and waiting for your answer. 

"I want you to fuck me until... Until I cum Severus, please!" you finally managed to articulate making Severus' smile grew wider and wider.

"Gladly, love," he replied as he began to pound you again. 

[writing-in-april]

Dressed in Crimson

Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Royalty AU)

Summary: Spencer is a stable boy with a passion for learning and Reader is the princess of the palace that he serves in. They’ve been in a secret relationship, the two grow restless about not being able to be out in the open.

A/N: Guys I’m so excited for this one I really really loved writing it- it’s my fourth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April and it’s also written for @omgbigfluffwriting !!! I kinda immersed myself into this quite a bit- and it’s my longest oneshot I’ve ever written 🤭The specific historical period theyre in is not specified and the world that they’re in is entirely fictional and not based on any specific point in history- if you’ve ever watched Merlin that’s kinda the vibe I was thinking of just without the magic lol (please still ignore that the gif does not have an accurate clothing choice from Spencer I just wanted a good shot of his hair that I thought of while writing this) i feel like it’s becoming so obvious how much I love historical fiction lol 😂 I’d like to hear from you guys also so if you want to drop me an ask here! It can be about anything 🥰 hope y’all enjoy!!!

Warnings: 18+, Reader has a horrible Father, subtle hints about sexism, Classism, Period typical clothing, Reader and Spencer fight for a little bit, Smut, Dom Spencer, Fingering, Handjob, Unprotected Sex, Day dreaming about fucking in public, Spencer’s possessive as hell, Ignoring the potential consequences of a creampie

Main Masterlist Word count: 4.7k

My day started out like any other with my corset made of whalebone being cinched tightly around my figure with my chemise underneath of course. Every time the ends of the laces were pulled taught on my body I thought of the days where I could get away with not having this wretched piece of clothing cutting off my breath. Those days had been so long ago, when I was just a small child, almost so long ago that I had to strain my memory to recall it. It wasn’t even until I was done clutching my mother’s skirts before I started to be forced into the confines of the worst invention in history. I would have rather muck in the mud in pants like the men, unless there was a reason for me to actually want to wear a dress.

Today, I had chosen a crimson colored gown, one of my only favorites. The front of the bodice was adorned with embroidery, one embroidered with a glistening gold thread. The sleeves were long and ever so slightly off my shoulders, ending just at my wrist. It had been perfectly handcrafted just for me, a seamstress being hired to slave away at each detail with precision. If it had been up to my father the seamstress would have been paid little to nothing for this masterpiece, but you had your own coins stashed away from your allowance to give extra to anyone that gave you goods and services.

The dress was my favorite almost solely because of someone else’s appreciation for the lush fabric, no one needed to know about that though. I did like to look nice on certain occasions, but only special ones. There was no special occasion scheduled for me to have a reason for wearing it, well none that the greater majority of the court would know about.

Only my maid Emily knew what my excursion would be today, why I dressed up so nicely. There was no feasible way for me to hide my dalliances from her, especially the one I was about to go to as it required some higher levels of stealth to be able to evade my father’s guards.

His name was Spencer, one of my father’s stable boys. I loved him more than anything, definitely more than any potential match that was arranged for me.

I gifted him whatever I could without raising suspicion, though I often hid my purchases if someone asked by excusing them as more frivolous in nature, such as a new dress. Spencer had no real need for pretty things as he’d said before, except from myself- those were his past words not mine. And, he did express to me how much he loved the dress I was wearing right now, which was tied to how we had first met.

When I first met him I had been looking for a fabric in the market stalls. I hadn’t really wanted to, I was content with all the dresses that I owned right now, they had no ornament on them, just how I preferred. However, my father demanded I get something fancier for some sort of frivolous ball that was coming up that undoubtedly had no reason to take place besides bleeding everyone else dry.

I brushed hands with him for the first time as I was looking for the material I wanted, something just fancy enough to appease my father. The stall filled with fabrics bordered one that had stacks of books, I would have much preferred to be looking at that one. My hand had gotten close to the edge while I was inspecting a fabric and it had bumped into a man who was looking at one of the books.

When I had looked up to see who had brushed my hand I was met with frantic eyes filled with apology. His stuttered apology had covered my attempt to assure him that it was fine, it had taken me grabbing both of his hands to steady him for him to listen to my reassurance.

When he had introduced himself to me after I asked it flowed into a long conversation. I could have talked to him forever, I would be content to never talk to anyone else. For a stable boy he was exceptionally smart, which I learned was from his mother who had made sure he was educated even in poverty, specifically through having him read anything she could get her hands on. From then on our blossoming friendship had flourished, and had eventually developed into more.

I slung a shawl over my shoulders made out of a fabric of similar color to my gown and also grabbed a purse filled with coins with a smile due to my reminiscing . It wasn’t cold enough for one of my velvet cloaks just yet and most of the walk down to where Spencer was housed was indoors.

The walk from my rooms in the main part of the castle to the stables on the lower floor towards the East end was longer than I would have wanted. Truthfully, I wished I would not have to live in a castle at all, I’d rather live in the small house that Spencer lived. It was just past the castle grounds at the edge of the surrounding village adjacent to the stables so he did not have to walk far for work in the mornings.

My feet tiptoed down the corridors carefully, I was lucky that I had figured out to be somewhat light on my feet otherwise I’d be caught swiftly for sure. I passed by the rooms of most of the lords and ladies staying at court, I always wondered why some chose to stay here, it was positively suffocating here. The door I used to go outside was through the kitchen, that had a myriad of breakable things strewn about that I had to stealthily avoid. Luckily, I knocked nothing over that would have woken up the cooks who slept just a room over. Turning the handle of the door had to be a slow process so no one would hear the creak of the knob while it was turned, but I did successfully make it out with no disturbance.

Beginning the stretch of my journey that was outdoors was perhaps the most risky. Guards were stationed around the perimeter of the castle in greater numbers compared to the ones indoors which were only stationed by important rooms. I weaved my way through, in some aspects it was even more confusing than the inside of the castle. Hiding behind each of the pillars was the most effective way to avoid them, the construction of them making a series of small blind spots. I had just snuck behind one of the last ones when one of the guards nearest to me moved forward a little. I stopped breathing immediately, holding it tight in my chest while I plastered myself as close as I could to the back of the pillar. My nails dug into the stone of the pillar in fear, if I was ever to be found sneaking out at night or worse in the presence of Spencer, I would either never leave my rooms again or be whisked away into marriage even earlier than planned.

When the guard did not move to investigate further I let go of the breath I was holding, still making sure to let go of it slowly so he could not hear me. Moving swiftly forward after I had taken a breath was a bit of a challenge, my knees had gone weak with fear. I pushed myself to take each step even with the weakness in my knees, there was no way I could linger any longer.

Finally I was no longer walking on stone, I was walking on the muddy earth now. It was nice to feel the ground under my feet instead of the harsh stone, it told me that I was now only a handful of strides away from Spencer’s home.

The leaves littering the ground mixing with mud crunched under my feet even as I tip toed carefully. The guards may be in the distance now, but I didn’t feel keen on testing how good their hearing may potentially be.

Passing the stables was the last marker for my journey, then I would be able to see his home too. As I passed the sleeping horses by anticipation began to replace the fear inside me. It had been a while since I had been able to come see him, making me yearn for his touch even more.

His home came into view, even in the dead of night I could make it out if I squinted my eyes hard. My pace picked up exponentially when I landed my eyes on his humble abode. It was a quaint home, fallen into disrepair as he could not afford to fix it on the meager salary that my father paid him. The purse of gold that I had brought with me was exactly for that, the repairs. He would most likely protest the gift just like any other thing I had tried to gift him. From my experience the most effective way to get him to accept anything was to leave it there with no conversation about it. I think it made him feel less guilty even though in my opinion he was owed the money in the first place, no one should have to live in squalor when they did their job every day without question or complaint.

When I finally was at the entrance of his home I entered through the door swiftly, too impatient to wait or knock. Stress melted from my shoulders when I caught sight of him, hunched over one of the books I had given him, candles strewn around to give him enough light to read.

The candles he had lit to be able to read in the night illuminated us both with a glow. He would always compliment me whenever we found ourselves in similar lighting such as this, but in my opinion there was no rivalry. Each time the candle flickered it brightened up every highlight of him, letting me see his wild curls, brown eyes deeper than any others I had ever seen, and a body that I had no doubt was crafted to perfection illuminated in a beautiful glow.

I went to compliment him just as he always did with me, but I became mesmerized when he stood up, then moving his way closer to me.

“It is nice to see you, it feels like it’s been an eternity.” It may seem dramatic for him to say that it felt that long, but I echoed his sentiment willingly.

“It is nice to see you too, Spencer. I agree it’s been far too long.” I was sure it had been at least a full moon cycle since we had the pleasure of being alone with one another, our duties to my father keeping us separated.

It had been painful whenever I would go out for a ride on my horse, to see him hand me the reins of my mare and be unable to reach out to touch him. There had been one day, about a week ago, that I had let my hand brush against his own for a moment while he handed the reins to me. It was an innocent brush of a touch, that also had a barrier in the form of my leather gloves. To anyone else it had meant nothing, but to me and him, it meant everything.

His eyes were blown wide with desire, as I suspected mine were as well. We let ourselves take in the sight of each other for a minute longer before Spencer broke the silence with a request,

“Drop your shawl, so I may see you better.” A stable hand commanding someone of such a stature such as I would’ve seen him whipped if it was any other person before him. His boldness was not unexpected, it had taken a while for him to grow so comfortable with my company. In truth, he had been quite scared when I had first met him. It was perfectly understandable considering his employer was my father, who was not known for his kindness. And, even then after his fear had faded he still had a shy exterior for a while, it only had been lifted when we began to become extremely comfortable around each other. We were each other's only form of solace in this world, we could only escape our reality when we were together.

Instead of having malice in my voice like other nobles would I simply pulled the shawl more taught around my shoulders and teased, “Why should I?”

The expression on his face was one of the ones I loved seeing on his face the most, a sly smirk. He came closer to me, with careful steps as if he was waiting for the right moment to pounce. We were so close together when he stopped moving, but still not touching. He was playing a game with me, not touching until I obliged him. As he leaned in to speak into the shell of my ear he was careful with the way he tilted his body forward so I could only feel his breath on the small portion of my skin, “Because you like it when I look at you.”

My arms fell to my sides releasing my shawl to fall from my shoulders onto the floor at his words, as they rang true. I did want him to look at me and also, of course touch me.

“You wore your favorite dress.” He observed, still not quite touching. I didn't need to answer the statement he made with the thought in my mind ‘I wore it for you’ because I knew he had already figured that out. His observational skills were keenly honed in by his constant reading whenever he had the chance, often reading books that I had gifted to him. He even sometimes read well into the night, straining his eyes in the darkness when the candle was almost merely a wick. I had found that out the first- and sadly, only time I had the opportunity to stay overnight. Since then I had pushed him to get more rest as I knew how hard he was worked to the bone during the day, courtesy of my father.

His eyes were staring at my dress, pupils blown wide, his mind seemingly off in another world maybe thinking about all the things he wanted to do to me.

“Please, touch me.” I didn’t need to speak loud, only a soft whisper for him to hear me because of how close he already was to me. So close, yet so far.

He raised his large hands, calloused from working so hard day in and day out. My own hands were soft from the expensive creams I had been pampered with since I was just a small child. I liked his hands better, they showed the hard work he used everyday to cultivate his beautiful mind and body.

I subtly licked my lips in anticipation of his touch, wanting to feel every inch of his hand roaming my body, from the tips of his fingers to where his palm met his wrist.

His fingers then started to trace over the top of my corset, just a hair away from touching the swell of my breasts. My chest was rising and falling with each breath, each inhale pushing it slightly closer to his fingers. With each fall of my chest I felt the need to quickly let go of my breath, so I could once again inhale and be brought closer to his touch.

“Please touch me.” I repeated, breathless from forcing myself to breathe into his touch.

“I am touching you.” His fingers still did not move to touch my skin, only the crimson accented in gold. It was his turn to tease me now, I was at his mercy, ready and waiting for it.

I could beg again, though quite obviously I could not convince him with it. As he was running his fingers over the cloth for what felt like the millionth time, still not touching me, I teased him back instead of begging, “No you are touching my dress.”

A mere ghost of a touch from his fingers then floated across my skin. What should have calmed my heaving chest from my gasping breaths only served to make my breathing even heavier. The slight touch was still not enough, only making my desire for his hands to roam every inch of my body even more severe.

“Perhaps I should take your corset off, to help you breathe better.” He said, as if he read my exact thoughts.

“I like your thinking.”

I was then spun around so my back was pressed into his chest. It soothes my desire for his touch some, but we both had barriers of cloth preventing me from fully feeling him. I could feel some of the warmth that was hidden underneath his shirt, which was made up of a much billowing white linen that compared to his trousers.

If my skirts were not so large I wondered if I were to push back if my behind would come in contact with his cock and whether or not his desire would be as prominent as the slickness dampening the bottom layer I was wearing. I’d have to find a way to find a pair of trousers then, sometime soon, so I could try to grind into him at a later date. There was no doubt that we’d surely find ourselves in a similar position again.

As his hands started to undo the laces of my corset with care, despite both of our desperation, a thought slipped out from his lips that I’m sure he intended to keep to himself, “I wish I could call you mine in public.”

“My father would kill you!” The taste of my voice would have been bitter in anyone’s mouth, quickly spat out in the same way I said those words. Perhaps my quick anger to his innocent thought would be insane to some, most would probably consider it a sweet thought. However, he knew from previous conversations that when those sweet thoughts were expressed that all I could feel was a heavy sadness sitting inside me, instead of desire.

Tears clouded my vision, so much so that I did not see Spencer’s arms come around me to envelop me in an embrace. I flinched a bit at first, but then melted when I realized it was him. We held each other for a while as I sobbed softly into his billowy white shirt.

He stroked my shoulder with his large hands that I loved, but the corset he had not taken off fully yet was blocking me from feeling his touch the way I wanted.

“Take it off please.” I begged softly, I wanted to feel his skin on mine, and not just his lips or his hands. I wanted to feel every inch of him.

The laces of my corset were already half undone because of his previous attempt at getting it off of me. He finished the job, pulling the corset off of my body, tossing it down to the floor. He may have loved the dress, but he was showing me through his actions that he loved what was underneath more.

Turning me around was his next step, so he could properly kiss me. The pressure was soft at first, as if he was testing the waters to see how I would feel. Feeling his soft lips on my own just made me want to pull him in further, and I did so. My fingers tangled into his curls as the kiss devolved into pure passion, we were both throwing ourselves fully into it, trying to express our feelings nonverbally.

His own hands moved to cup my breasts as he backed me into the cot he slept on every night. I did not let him push me down on the bed so he was on top of me like normal, this time I wanted to be on top for a while. When I straddled his hips the first thing I felt was his cock straining in his pants. I unbuckled them so I could wrap my hands around his cock, I wanted to feel his thick and heavy length in my hands. Precum was already dripping down his hard cock as I pumped his length with my hands. My own arousal was dampening the underneath of the skirt I still had on. Spencer confirmed it himself when he snuck his fingers underneath the fabric to play with my pleasure spots. We both groaned as his fingers entered inside me while he rubbed circles into my swollen pearl.

My skirt was bunched up in his hands, pulling up all the way to the tops of my thighs. He soon got fed up with the skirt being in the way though and maneuvered me to shuck it off of me as fast as possible. Being bare before him did not make me wither in self consciousness, it made me lean into his touch even more.

He leaned up to kiss me again while I grabbed his length and restraddled him. I was definitely wet enough to have him enter me, my separation from him making me desperate, it had been so long since we had the chance to be together like this.

I then sunk down on his length slowly, it was for me to adjust to his size and to relish in the feeling of him sliding inside me. I stilled on top of him as the back of my thighs hit the top of his, he filled me with perfection. Spencer only let me be still for a little while before his hands gripped my hips and started to guide me to roll my hips. The pace I set- well Spencer was the one who set it, was slow and deep, I was languidly rolling my hips while he thrusted up into me at a similar pace.

My face twisted in pleasure as his thrusts became more powerful, still at the same pace but with more force behind them.

“Fuck- I want everyone to know that you’re mine!” It was the exact same thing he had spoken to me earlier that had sparked anger and melancholy inside me. This time it caused a spark of pleasure instead, making me think about him fucking me in front of everyone claiming me as his.

“My father would kill you.” This time when I said it it was gasped into his mouth with little to all anger disappeared from it.

My words made Spencer growl which was swallowed by a possessive kiss. He then flipped me over roughly, my back now pressed into the cot. A high pitched squeak had escaped my lips unintentionally in surprise, it was quickly changed into a moan when he entered me again. This time the pace did not start off slow as I did not need to adjust to him inside of me.

“I don’t care.” His speech was agitated as he pounded into me, holding my legs open with both hands spreading me out for him to see everything, “No matter what anyone says or does, you’re mine.”

Pleasure sparked through me at his possessive words, I grabbed desperately at the cotton sheets trying to hold onto something as my finish was fast approaching. When the cotton sheets were not enough of a stabilizer for me I lifted my hands up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him close.

“Come on I know you’re close, I’m close too baby.” My nails dug into his neck and back during the latter half of his sentence causing him to slightly wince. I knew he enjoyed it though because of the question that he groaned out next, “Can I cum inside you?”

Biting my lip hard was painful as I nodded my head in response to his question that had me falling over the edge. The consequences of him finishing inside me danced in the back of my head, I chose to ignore them as he did. I did not care as he filled me and I rode out my release, even if I was to somehow get pregnant because of our recklessness it did not matter. I’d gladly have his child, even if it meant I’d have to go on the run.

Instead of falling on top of me directly after finishing like I’ve heard most men do with their wives he gently removed himself from my entrance and laid down beside me on the cot. Bliss was mingling in the air between us, both unburdened by any of our problems that would become a reality as soon as I left for the night. For now we would just hold onto the bliss until it was cruelly snatched away from reality.

Spencer had a solution as always to our problems, and seemed to be thinking about the same thing I was with his next suggestion,

“Run away with me.” We were both covered in sweat that had cropped up from our activities, a contrast to the chilly air outside and in the castle. It was nice to feel warm every time I was in his arms, It was hard to resist being greedy and deciding to stay in his arms forever. It had crossed my mind more than once, but there was always something stopping me from going through with it fully. I opened my mouth to point out all the reasons why that would not be possible when he added, “And, before you say no I want to ask- what’s stopping you?”

His reasoning was sound, as it often was. My mouth opened and closed, struggling to find a reasoning before I accepted that he was right. The only potential downfall was my father’s forces searching everywhere to find me, but it would be worth it. We could also easily cross the border into nearby lands ruled by someone else that was not in alliance with him. I already felt lighter thinking about being free from the confines of the castle- and hopefully my corset. Though I would have to keep the crimson dress I wore today, even if I only wore it around him, It was his favorite and it symbolized the day that we met. He glanced over at me just as I did the same, looking right into his eyes as I spoke,“Alright.”

The light that sparked in his eyes made my heart soar, I could feel just from his gaze how ecstatic he was to spend his life with me. I didn’t need any words to know how much he loved me.

We basked for a moment in the presence of our love, Spencer broke the silence again when he started planning,“You need to go pack!”

I moved myself to sit up even though my limbs protested, wanting to sleep after our post coital bliss. A soft smile was exchanged between the two of us, “I’ll pack light, only the stuff I need.”

The purse of gold I had brought for him would no longer be used to fund his repairs, but to fund our life together. I climbed on top of him again leaning forward to capture him in a kiss that was much more chaste than the ones earlier in the night.

“I. love. you.” He whispered in between kisses making my eyes wet with tears. They weren’t born out of sadness, but of happiness that I had someone to love me as much as Spencer did.

“I love you too, I will see you soon.” I pulled myself away from his lips even though I did not want to, I then got up to leave reluctantly. Though it was easier than previous departures as I knew that it would be the last one that I would have to complete. My whole being was lighter and happier than I had ever felt before as I snuck back with a spring in my step. The only hint of what I was about to do, where I was about to go, was the mud stained at the hemline of my crimson dress.

Ask me anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (why wont tumblr let me tag you😭

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

Dom Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb @jakobsdump

[carol-effing-danvers]

Chapter 1: Lemon Water

Chrissy used to have incredibly realistic and vivid dreams as a young girl. Dreams of fantastical places with talking flowers and rabbits who wore gold-trimmed waistcoats, where tea was any time she wanted it to be and where she could eat as much cake as she liked. Staring balefully down at her mother's pretty blue patterned tea set, she wished that she could still dream so sweetly now.

Lately, though, they had been less than sweet - terrifying visions of bleak and wasted lands where there was no sunshine and a parade of nightmare creatures roamed them. Still, Chrissy almost thinks she would prefer to be there rather than here.

Her mother wouldn't allow her to have honey or sugar or cream or even real tea - just hot water and lemon, and it has her teeth feeling soft and brittle, like chalk in her mouth. Sour even in her stomach, until it feels like she’s swallowing vinegar. Chrissy is so sick of it she can't bear to have any more and asks Emma for a glass of plain water despite Mama’s baleful stare, and is forced to endure her and Mrs. Carver drone on and on about what they had purchased during their last trip to the modiste.

Her corset had been laced too tightly and between that, lemon water, and poor sleep, Chrissy knows that she probably looks dreadful. Mama likes her thin and as pale as she can be - she wants her to be beautiful and delicate. She doesn’t feel delicate or beautiful. She feels fragile and sickly. Worn out.

But Chrissy knows what is expected of her, so she smiles politely and nods when appropriate and not a single person in their drawing room seems to notice that she's hardly spoken a word since their greetings. Not even Jason - Lord Hawkins - and he's supposed to be courting her. Or he says that he is, anyway, but from Chrissy’s understanding, a gentleman is meant to pay particular attention to the lady he is courting and beyond making offhand comments in her direction, he's hardly even glanced at her.

His voice breaks through her dissatisfied thoughts, startling her with his words. "Christiana, I would love to have permission to speak with you privately."

He looks over to her mother askance. Mama nods, giving her a Look which Chrissy finds hard to interpret, already feeling both irritated and caught off guard. He didn't even ask if she was alright being alone with him.

Chrissy also never gave him permission to call her by her first name, either - if he had, she could've told him not to call her Christiana. The only one who does that is her mother and it gives her a knot in her stomach, as though she's in trouble for something.

"You and I are so well suited, Christiana," he begins warmly, once again dragging Chrissy away from her own thoughts.

She resists frowning because Mama would be mad if she did. She's been told many times before that she must be her most pleasant and obliging self for Mister Carver at all times.

Are they well suited? Jason seems to enjoy his sport - hunting, gambling, cigars with the other men in the parlor. Chrissy has no pleasure in any of those things. She would rather dance. Have a conversation with someone interesting. Travel someday. Perhaps to the Americas. Maybe even farther.

Really the only way in which they are similar is their status in the world. The Carver family is rather more wealthy than they are, but they are members of the gentry with a fair plot of decent land - she's the one with the title. Only a baroness, but still. Apart from that, she’s heard from Miss French and Miss Amsley that several of Jason’s housemaids had to be sent to their smaller estate in Ireland after turning up pregnant and she might be naive, but she was fairly certain she knew what it meant when the only master of the house needed new serving maids every other year.

"-and so, naturally, I think that it's time-" Oh dear, she hasn't been paying attention again. What has he been saying? Chrissy hopes that he'll hurry and make his point. The faster he does, the sooner they can leave and Chrissy can take this hateful garment off and lie down for a nap. "-and make you my wife."

She nearly nods, only half paying attention still, that's how eager she is to end this interaction. But she feels a prickle of horror at those last two words. My wife.

Oh, heaven forbid! "Y-you want to marry me?"

He smiles at her, as though charmed, apparently mistaking her anxiety for giddiness. "Of course, dear girl! What do you say, Christiana?"

Some distant part of her mind acknowledges that Jason never actually even asked for her hand. He just presented the idea and expected her to go into raptures over it.

Oh. OH. He actually does want an answer, though, Chrissy realizes, still frozen with horror on her seat as Jason’s beaming face slowly begins to dim with impatience. “I-I-'' Oh god, she wasn’t ready for this. She knows for a fact that she isn’t the only young lady that Jason visits, and she hadn’t been expecting him to actually believe he would marry her. She couldn’t-Chrissy couldn’t possibly say yes to this man, even as she knew Mama would be furious if she dared to say no. “I need a-a moment to think about it.”

Jason is clearly flabbergasted with this answer - shocked enough at least that he doesn’t stop Chrissy from fleeing the room, blindly running down the corridor and allowing her feet to take her wherever they want to go, only to find herself standing in the side garden - cool and green and overcast beneath the cloudy sky. It rained nearly the whole morning and Chrissy shivers beneath the covering of trees as the wind rustles the leaves and sends droplets of cold water cascading down to hit her bare face and arms.

She has no idea how long she stands there, just staring at the lush greenery of wet ferns and damp soil, the rich brown of the bark, shivering as the breeze pulls at the pale blue lace skirt of her dress. It’s only when she hears Mama shrieking with rage inside of the house behind her that Chrissy stirs from the soothing trance nature has placed over her. “Christiana-!”

Some instinct of self-preservation causes Chrissy to burst into a run, tearing through the trees to escape the sound of her mother’s anger, though her stomach is an anxious knot and she could barely breathe through the pressure of her corset when the only thing she was doing was sitting in the drawing room. Her silk slippers, already soaked through from the wet grass, are undoubtedly ruined by the mud but Chrissy still flies past the trees, her lace skirts torn to bits by the thorns of rose bushes and the branches of low shrubs - any chance at all of either being saved flies out the window as she loses track of her surroundings and stumbles into the icy-cold stream cutting between the willows.

She wails at the needle-sharp feeling of the cold water hitting her feet and frantically scrambles to get out on the other side, slowed down by the weight of her now-soaked hem. She’s so eager to escape it, in fact, that she isn’t paying enough attention to the ground around her as she bursts onto the opposite back, almost immediately tripping herself on a root along the path in front of her and falling forward down a steep slope.

Chrissy can feel the way the impact bruises her body, her left shoulder connecting hard with the ground just before gravity and momentum causes her to roll down the hill. Directly, though she doesn’t see it at the time, toward the massive oak that borders the Cunninghams and their nearest neighbors, the Amsleys.

All Chrissy knows is that she seems to fall for a very long time, much longer than she ought to, and she hits the ground again with another hard ‘thud!’ of impact, this time one that leaves her ribs aching and standing is almost excruciating. When she finally does, Chrissy frantically claws at her too tight bodice, gasping and desperate to be able to take just one deep breath. She’s light-headed and panicking, too clumsy and in pain and overstressed to unlace herself from the back where her stays were tied, sobbing as she becomes increasingly distressed. In the violence of her frenzy, Chrissy claws scratches through her own hands. She’s begun to cry and there are black spots forming in front of her vision-

“Oh dear! What an odd trap you’re in, poor thing!” a deep voice murmurs from behind her and Chrissy flinches, startled. He soothes her soft and low - “Let’s get you out of there, shall we?”

No-no, it isn’t proper, she’s-

Chrissy feels a long motion across her back and her lungs expand, finally allowing her to gulp down an enormous gasp of air as her corset and gown fall from her body, leaving her to stare incredulously as she’s left only in her second best chemise, wet stockings and ruined silk slippers. With a strange man.

A handsome man with long dark hair and no beard or mustache beams brilliantly at her, his own clothing a long loose night-coat of some kind of pattern black silk fabric over a pair of trousers made of the same material that are far too tight to be appropriate. Flipping the pair of scissors he held in his fingers, he tucks them into a pocket of the dressing gown and cheerfully says “That’s better, isn’t it?” From another pocket, he hands her a handkerchief cloth to dry her eyes. “You’re an awfully long way out here in the Queen’s Lost Lands, milady. Why have you gone so far?”

“I-I fell...I fell down the hill..” Normally, Chrissy would be so self-conscious about weeping in front of a stranger, especially in nothing but her underclothes. But this man is clearly a little mad, and he means no harm to her. He sincerely seems to believe that he’s helped her. In a way, he has, she thinks, staring down at her destroyed dress. At least she can breathe. And there’s something…so kind and patient about the way he looks at her. She touches her disheveled curls. “I must’ve-must’ve hit my head…Who…who are you?”

“Edward Munson Hatter, First Wizard to our beloved queen, at your service,” he introduces himself, with a bow so full of extravagant flourishes that Chrissy can’t help but laugh aloud, handkerchief still clutched in her fingers. “But please, call me ‘Hatter’. Everyone does. And who are you, lovely maiden from Overland?”

“I’m Chrissy-Christiana,” she says, quickly correcting herself. ‘Chrissy’ her mother insists, in the name of a child - an ugly child. And she is supposed to be a grown woman now. She sweeps him a little curtsy. “Christiana Cunningham, pleased to meet you, Mister Hatter.”

“Chrissy?” he repeats, breathy as his eyes suddenly gleam at her. “Are you really, now?”

***

It happened slowly, and then very quickly.

Chrissy would be crying when she finally arrived into Wonderland, a bruise blossoming over the crest of her cheek. “Mama says that you aren’t real,” she would sob, her fingers clutching Eddie’s coat with a desperation that he only half understood then - still a boy, still a child. “She says that I’m only dreaming. She says that I can’t have cake or jelly or-”

“Well, if I’m not real,” he’d say placidly, swallowing down his rage. “Then the cake isn’t either, right? Why shouldn’t you have cake in your dreams?”

And he feeds her like he always does, but he’s helpless to watch her leave, because she must leave - Hopper has already told Eddie he can’t just spirit her away to Wonderland. And what will we do if they come looking for her, Hatter? She isn’t like our benevolent White Queen - her mother will go looking for her and there’ll be Frabjous to pay if she does.

It was the wrong thing to do. Eddie feels it down his marrow. And worse, it slowly begins to stop working, until she refuses to eat for him, to let him soothe her to sleep or make the little felt roses she pins into her hair. She gets thinner, paler, and hardly ever appears without bruises on her face or her arms or her shoulders. Until all that Chrissy will do when she sees him is cry, cry and cover her eyes and her ears and scream “You aren’t real! You aren’t real! None of this is real!”

And all he wanted, all Eddie has ever wanted, was to make the world a tiny bit more beautiful for her. Wonderland never earned its name more than when her eyes lit up at the bread-and-butterflies or the brook where the water really did babble at her in his low, cheerful voice. But Eddie could see then, even as a child, that he was only making everything worse for her. Giving her mother excuses to hurt her that much more, reasons to punish Chrissy for things she couldn’t and shouldn’t explain.

Until, by last decree of Her Majesty, the most gracious Queen of Hearts: Chrissy Cunningham is no longer to reside anywhere in Wonderland, not anywhere in the realm of the three queens. Any who gives her refuge or residence shall be imprisoned.

But the Queen is gone, and Chrissy is right here. Standing in front of him, so lovely and grown up, willow-thin and so pale and bruised, trapped in that strange suffocating cloth and looking frightened and lost. “Chrissy? Are you really now?”

She nods, looking puzzled. “All my life.” Ah, there’s that hidden wit he loves. “Do-do I know you?”

Eddie decides that he does not give two rocking-horse-flies what the Queen of Hearts has decreed. He isn’t letting her go back up there.

“Maybe tomorrow you will,” he reassures her absently, because he must consult with someone about her memory first - he’s not THAT kind of sorcerer, you know.

Perhaps someone in the court of the White Queen can tell him what he should do for her. No point in asking anyone in the palace of the Red Queen, what with Vecna getting his hands on the Jabberwocky - most of them have fled to the White Queen’s lands, all except the magnificent Red Queen herself, and a handful of advisors. And the red chessmen army, of course.

His heart is light for the first time in nearly a decade, even in the face of the doom and gloom that faces them all. If Chrissy is finally here again, perhaps all hope is not so lost, after all. And all sorts of people would want him to do all sorts of things with her - take her immediately to the White Queen. Bring her to the Throne of Hearts. Ask her to find the Vorpal Blade.

But Eddie doesn’t do any of those things. She is frightened, and looks fragile and…diminished, though he hates to even think such a thing. It seems rather treasonous, all in all. So instead, he offers his hand and brightly asks “Would you like to have tea with me?”

[fuwushiguro]

@nomadmilk​ thank you sooooo much for the congrats gorg!! sorry its taken so long to write this, but welcome to bunny life!! hope u have a fantastic shift and enjoy ur time with hawks (he’s super popular at these things!!)

This is part of my Playboy Mansion event which is now closed.

Hawks x f!reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: 18+, consensual sex, mentions of alcohol, oral (male receiving), fingering, mentions of cum, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, car sex, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation.

Words: 2k

The party was in full swing. Everyone was chatting, laughing, dancing, generally having a great time. So why were you so bored? This is your latest in a long line of Playboy parties. They’re fun, of course they’re fun. That’s why so many people come to attend these things after all. It’s such an exclusive event, invite only and only those in the know get the special pink envelope in the post every time the function comes around. But it’s the same every time, it’s the same smiling, happy faces dancing and drinking every single time. You were bored.

You needed some excitement.

You got more than you bargained for when a trio of bunnies approached you. They cat walked over to you, one slightly in front of the others. These particular bunnies are a group of girls you haven’t really taken the time to get to know. You say hello in passing, but nothing more past that. They looked like they meant business, like they had something to tell you about.

“You do work here, yes?” the leader questioned you. You quirked an eyebrow. Was the outfit not enough of a giveaway? Or the fact you see her almost daily since you both live here. You just nodded, simply. Not sure you’d be able to keep your attitude in check if you actually spoke. “So why are you just sitting here? Work the room, get drinks for the guests.” she commanded. You scoffed.

“Sure.” you replied as you stood to your feet. Before you could get back to work, she grabbed you harshly by the wrist. “Let go of me.” you yelped as you attempted to free yourself from her hold.

“What’s wrong with your fucking face? This is a party. You have the best job in the world, seem a little happy about it.” she scolded as she got in your face. Just as you were about to use your free hand to slap her across her stupid smug face, a third party intervened and snatched her away from you.

“Behave little bunny.” he spoke. Her features instantly transformed from furious to flirtatious.

It was Keigo Takami. You’d seen him around before, but never spoke to him. You’d never been this close to him. Most of the bunnies had a soft spot for Keigo, and it wasn’t hard to see why. He was pretty. A pretty blonde stranger with a splash of mystery. What wasn’t to like? He was a big flirt too; you’d heard several stories exchanged of him from the other girls. He’d fucked quite a few of them, even though it was against the rules.

“Keigo!” she began excitedly, “nice to see you again baby… You wanna go somewhere?” she asked him. He looked over to you, but you paid him no mind. You picked up your cocktail tray and wandered off towards the bar.

“Not tonight.” he simply stated as he followed you.

He tapped your right shoulder and you immediately looked to see who it was, when you didn’t immediately see him you turned to your left to see him smiling. He clearly thought it was amusing, but you were in no mood. You gave him a half hearted smile as you reached the bar, you set your tray down and waited for the bar staff to fill it up with drinks for you to carry.

“Tough night?” Keigo questioned. You nodded.

“Apparently your girlfriend doesn’t like me too much.” you responded. He shook his head, immediately denying the accusing tone to your voice. Keigo doesn’t do girlfriends. Before he lets you pick up your serving tray, he rests his heavy hand on it preventing you from lifting.

“Apologies if this comes off a little forward or… you know… inappropriate,” he began, “but do you wanna come and take a breather in my car with me?”

You knew what he was doing. It wasn’t as smooth of a line as he thought it was. But he was staring into your eyes, you were staring back into the pretty pools of honey that were fixated on you. Your hand was on his as you had placed it there when you initially wanted your tray back. It was silly that you were even contemplating it, but the overwhelming adrenaline from the bitch bunny’s confrontation had your train of thought all over the place. You couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t think what a good and bad idea was. You just wanted some air, you wanted to be out of here. So, you held his gaze and parted your lips.

“Yes.”

☆ ☆ ☆

You left together, and no one seemed to notice. There were so many guests and a large selection of bunny girls, who would care if two people went missing? He opened the passenger side door for you. So chivalrous. You thought to yourself. When he began driving, he put a hand onto your headrest. His face was a little too close to yours as he reversed, he poked his tongue out as he was concentrating. You felt the blood fill your face, warming your cheeks from slight embarrassment. You did your best to turn away and regain your composure. The little act didn’t go unnoticed, Keigo looked at you and smiled.

“Are you nervous?” he queried.

“A little.” you confessed.

He began driving around the back of the mansion. There were so many acres to the yard, only a small fraction was used by the guests for these parties. But still, you’re fairly sure people aren’t meant to drive on the perfectly mowed grass.

“I don’t think you should be doing this.” you told him, but he didn’t stop. Plunging further and further into the darkness of the unlit field.

“Don’t worry babe, me and your boss go back.” he told you. The pet name making you dizzy.

The car came to a stop. Silence. You knew what was about to happen. He knew what was about to happen. But the tension in the air was immeasurable. It was a waiting game to see who’d make the first move. You could barely look in his direction. The tense atmosphere could be cut with a knife.

☆ ☆ ☆

“Good girl…” he cooed. Your throat accommodating seven inches of his fat veiny cock. Your eyes watered, but you didn’t care. His hand rested delicately on the crown of your head while you went at your own pace.

You sloshed your tongue around his erection, stimulating each vein as you bobbed up and down.

“Such a good fucking bunny, aren’t you? My little cock slut.” he praised.

You felt shame that you were just another bunny on his ever growing list of conquests, but in this moment with his cock head nudging your tonsils, you’re finding it difficult to care. When you lifted your head, he wrapped a fist around the base of his shaft and started jerking himself off. He forced your head back to his cock, you let him fill your wet cavern with his tip. You knew he was close, his moaning was like music to your ears.

“Hnng. – fuck – fucking hell sweetheart I’m gonna fucking cum.” he announced. You hummed approvingly. “Gonna take it all aren’t you? Take all of my fucking cum you – jesus fuck - you little slutty bunny, take daddy’s cum.” he pumped his cock a couple of more times before spilling into you with a needy high pitch whine. Thick white ropes filled into your mouth and you swallowed almost instantly.

“Thank you.” you smiled sweetly, showing him the lack of cum in your mouth. He was still heaving from his orgasm. There was a sheen layer of sweat clinging to his skin, little beads dripping down his forehead.

“Fuckin’ hell sweetheart.” he spoke, it sounded like more praise. Like he was impressed with you. The thought of making him proud went straight to your aching cunt. He took a few more moments to settle himself down and regain his composure. When his breathing steadied, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you onto his lap. He kissed you deeply while you positioned yourself to straddle him on the driver’s seat. He slowly unbuttoned the bottom of your corset, revealing your lacy black panties that resided underneath. He pushed them to the side and ran a single digit up the length of your slit. The feeling made you shudder and collapse your body onto his.

His cock was back to full mast, he used the tip head to explore your folds before plunging into you.

“Hnng… Daddy…” you mewled, earning a scoff from the blonde.

“You’re like that huh? A slut for daddy like that? Get yourself off,” he commanded, “Go on, get yourself off on daddy’s cock.”

You descended onto his length and he sat snugly at your cervix. You wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself. He pulled down the front of your corset, wanting to watch your tits bounce as you used him to get off. He used his tongue to dance over your left nipple and a free hand to roll your right one between his finger and thumb. The occasional pinch forcing you to clench around him. You were bouncing on him, taking him so well. He took a moment to look at your face, admiring the way your eyes scrunched and lips pouted as little ‘ooo’ sounds escaped.

“That’s it baby girl, just like that.” he smiled. The sweet pet name was enough incentive to make you pick up the pace. Raising higher and sinking lower on his fat cock, each vein hitting every sweet spot inside of you. You could feel the car rocking. But you didn’t care. No one would know, no one could see, no one could hear.

“D-daddy, oh! Oh daddy! Fuck!” you cried.

“Yeah babe, just like that. Juuuuust like that baby. Fuck you’re such a good slut for daddy aren’t you?” he told you. His fingers dug into the supple flesh of your hips, and you’re sure tomorrow they’ll turn into beautiful blue blooms to remind you of who you belonged to tonight. He started meeting your motions, thrusting up inside you and hitting deeper than you could by yourself.

“Hnng. Keigo! Gonna, gonna cum daddy!” you practically shouted, the feeling of the coil within you coming undone. He couldn’t respond, he had reached his peak for the second time and was soiling your insides. But you didn’t stop, he didn’t stop either. He wanted to fuck his seed further into you, his bruising thrusts were relentless.

“Good girl, you can do it. Doing such a good job f’me.” he told you.

Within seconds he felt your cunt clamp him in, he didn’t think he had anything more to give you but the feeling of your glorious snatch trapping him unravelled him once again. Depositing more of his load into your tight pussy. You collapsed on him once again, moaning into his ear as you came around his cock. You moved your body back slightly to look at him, kissing him deeply. Your tongue massaging his as you carried on panting into each other. You carried on warming his cock, but parted your bodies slightly so you could calm down. He looked down at where the two of you were connected and snickered.

“What a pretty little mess you made.” he commented. When you looked there was a mixture of his cum and your slick stuck to his trousers. You looked at him, innocently batting your lashes.

You had officially made the list of bunnies that Keigo had fucked. But you had a feeling you’d be on an even more exclusive list of bunnies that Keigo wants to fuck more than once.

© 2021 fuwushiguro

I hope you enjoyed your shift as a playboy bunny!! Thanks so much for taking part in this event I hope this was worth the wait!! Mwah mwah xxx

[lemonjoonah]

Level of Restraint (M)

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

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

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

...

8:55 am KNJ: Good girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a saint.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That bad?” Jimin asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did, but-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Actually I’ll take some advil.”

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

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

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

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

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

Taehyung nods, taking another sip of his water. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then I’ll consider it, thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

-3 years ago-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have my sources.” 

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

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

“And how do you propose to do that?”

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

“Without knowing your plan, I think not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know what you mean...”

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

“There’s nothing else.” 

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

“Really? Because you look upset.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“More so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No they don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes...”

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

“Do you want me to stay too then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We aren’t Jimin!”

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

You doubt Jimin could keep a relationship between the two of you hidden, with the way he dotes on you already, you’re one passionate night away from finding three dozen roses on your desk. “Someone would find out, and the fall out-”

“Fuck the fall out,” Jimin states with resolve, reaching out his fingers tucking back a strand of your hair before curling beneath your chin. “I’m tired of this charade. Hoseok only said something because he’s jealous. He’s jealous that you want me as much as I want you.”

“Jimin,” You whisper. “Even if that was the case, that still doesn’t make it right.” You pull back from his touch. “You should go. Think about what I said, because if we can’t maintain at least some level of restraint and professionalism... then you might be better off working for someone else in the office.”

“So you’d rather keep your social image than be happy with me?” Jimin accuses, the usual warmth having completely vanished from his face.

“It’s not like that. My standing is my life, it’s my career, any blemish would destroy everything I have.” You attempt to express the fear inside you, the weight that bears on you every day. You already have so many secrets and liabilities, but one as close and extensive as a relationship with him might finally crush you and everything you’ve built. “I like you, I really do, but I can’t take the risk. You have to understand, I’m not like you. I don’t have a secret trust fund to fall back on.”  

Jimin looks as though you’ve stabbed him, pulling away he heads to the exit. “I’m sorry I’m not worth the risk. You know, I thought you were better than that, but it would seem you’re just like everyone else.” 

The door slamming between you echoes through the office as you sag in your chair. Never in all your years have you ever sunk so low. By taking him on you wanted to ensure Jimin’s happiness, to show him his value despite the lack of acknowledgement  from his father, but now it seems you’ve fallen into the same role as those who have hurt him before.

  ...

You type your code into Namjoon’s door, stepping into his hall quickly and shutting the door behind you. It’s just before seven and usually you find him in his living room already waiting, but today it’s empty. Not wanting to disturb him, you take a seat on the couch and wait patiently for him to join you. 

You feel ready to fold in on yourself as you continue to dwell on your argument with Jimin. If you laid out boundaries earlier you likely wouldn’t be where you are now. Hating yourself over his confession, and your inability to accept it. 

There’s movement from the bedroom door as Namjoon’s partner Seokjin comes out to greet you. You look up in bewilderment as he takes your hand, pulling you off the couch. “Namjoon has already started with the other client, so he sent me to fetch you.” 

You nod understanding Namjoon’s divergence from the norm, it wouldn’t be safe practice for him to leave Taehyung alone in a precarious position. Now looking to the door with curiosity, you’re excited by what lustful visions will greet you on the other side. But when Seokjin presents something to you it’s clear that you won’t get to see those sights.

“You’ve been asked to wear this.” He holds out a wide silken strip, one that Namjoon has used as a blindfold in the past. You allow Seokjin to cover your eyes, with a touch far more gentle than you know Namjoon’s to be. You don’t want kindness, craving instead to be broken in by the man in the other room, especially after the damage you’ve done today. The loss of your vision will have to be punishment enough for the time being. 

“Does he want me to undress too?” You ask, touching the silk over your eyes, you're completely blind and already longing for the next step. 

“No he wishes to save that pleasure for himself.”

You smirk thinking he might, you’ve been wearing his gift all day it’s only right that he gets to see it first.  

There’s a knock and a click of the door before Seokjin takes you in hand again, leading you in. The air is warmer and heavier than that of the living room, making it impossible to draw a fresh breath. 

Seokjin pushes down on your shoulder, a wordless order to kneel. The plush carpet meeting your knees as you lower yourself, if only you could reach out to get a better sense of what’s in front of you, but form dictates that you keep your hands on your lap. 

The bedroom door closes, signalling Seokjin's departure. Sending one last wave of clean air before you're smothered once again. Locked away for the night with your master and his new pet. There’s a small creek from the mattress and the familiar rattle of restraints against the bedpost. You can just barely make out the tone of Namjoon’s low whisper as he speaks to the current tenant of the bed. 

Footsteps land to your left, muffled by the wall to wall but still sending vibrations through the floor.  As Namjoon approaches, your heart pounds wondering what his first move against you will be. He takes his sweet time letting the anticipation build as your chest continues to heave in its attempts to take in the thick air. You keep your posture, maintaining your stance with the knowledge that he will inspect you. Head lowered, hands on thighs, perched on your toes as your knees dig into the ground. Your legs soon start to tremble as your feet strain to bear the weight.

Namjoon settles right in front of you, the slow draw of his breath reaches your ears, while the heat of his exhale hits your face. A hand trails up the outside of your thigh stilling the tremor in your legs with a forceful grip. You freeze wondering if your jitters will cost you, you can’t let him find fault not if you want him to reward you with his presence. 

But as he takes your chin tightly between his index and his thumb, you know you're in the clear. He tilts your head up as you breathe a sigh of relief. “Such a good girl, setting the perfect example.” His fingers slide down petting the column of your throat with a firm touch. “I was so happy to receive your picture this morning, did you wear the gift all day as ordered?”

“Yes sir.” You pant back, eager for him to see for himself. 

“It wasn’t too hard for you then, to go so long in such a confined state?”

“No sir.”

“Good girl,” He purrs in your ear as he starts unfastening your shirt. He hesitates on the buttons for a moment. “Babygirl, would you care to tell me why you're wearing a men’s shirt?”

You swallow not wanting to admit that it’s the fault of the man currently lying in his bed. You plan to take the fall, wanting Namjoon’s undivided attention even if it’s in the form of a punishment. “I spilled something on mine sir.”  

“So clumsy.” He has the shirt completely off now revealing the corset for him and likely Taehyung to see. Namjoon helps you to stand, unzipping your skirt he pushes it to the floor. You feel so helpless without your sight but Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind assisting. He uses the soft fabric of the shirt to dab at the sweat beading on your skin. “Who, may I ask, clothed you in theirs? Such an expensive label, he must think highly of you.”

You shift in place, made uncomfortable by your inability to answer. Knowing if you say his name thoughts of him will be summoned to your mind. You don’t deserve to think of him at such a time, not after you led him on and left him dry.

“You don’t wish to tell me?” The feel of Namjoon’s breath leaves you, the sounds of his feet  indicating he’s moved to the right of you. Heading to a space you know to be occupied by a table and closet full of his tools. There’s a scrap of metal and what sounds like the jingle of buckles. 

“No sir.”

“And why is that?” Fingers trail up your arm as Namjoon signals his return to your side. 

“Because I’m not allowed to have him sir.”

“A noble response.” Namjoon reasons while he wraps the leather strap of a familiar collar around your neck. “But I still plan to get that name from you before we’re done.” He buckles it swiftly checking the tightness with two fingers. You thought him finished but he progresses to cuff your wrists in leather too, tethering them together in front of you. 

He leans in again with a hushed request, “Still know your safe word?” You nod repeating is back to him before he leads you on towards the bed. 

Namjoon stands behind you as he presents you to his new pet. When you gave Taehyung Namjoon’s number you hadn’t been expecting this but you can’t deny enjoying the prospect. But you find the silence and lack of reaction from him unnerving. “I asked him not to make a sound,” Namjoon explains, “And he’s abiding by my rules so well it’s he?” 

Namjoon takes your hands helping you to feel the current state in which Taehyung is interned. A Leather cuff just like yours binds one of his wrists with a short chain leading to bedpost. You imagine that his other limbs are restricted to the other corners of the bed, for Namjoon has bound you in the same state before. 

“Can he see?” You ask Namjoon wondering if he has been left blind too, or if he’s eyes are watching you now.

“Can he see you? He can babygirl, in fact, he hasn’t looked away once, and why would he?” Namjoon sits you down on the large bed to join Taehyung before pulling down the matching underwear to your corset. “They’re so wet, have you been soaking these all day?” 

You nod in response. A delighted Namjoon makes an offer to Taehyung. “Would you like a taste pet? A reward for being so good.” Namjoon revels in his situation with a chuckle, the man beneath you must have nodded. “Then open up.” You know what a taste means for Namjoon, those panties of yours are most certainly shoved into Taehyung's mouth. He lets out a groan of satisfaction at the welcome intrusion.

Namjoon’s hands find your waist dragging you up further on to the bed with your knees now resting on the mattress. “You’re going to straddle him for me babygirl.” He shifts you over pulling up one of your legs to settle them on either side of the man beneath you. Your knees bent with your calves coming to rest against his bare hips. Without his billowy clothes he is far more slight than you expected, but his skin feels firm and toned. 

You slowly move to lower yourself knowing what you will come down on top of as you sit, but Namjoon seems to have other plans in mind. He takes your bound wrist, lifting them above your head and latching the cuffs to a chain in the rafters of the canopy bed. Once fixed in place he tests your limitations, a quick tug to show you even with your arms fully extended you are only able to lower yourself to half a kneel. You groan in frustration with the realization you can’t move any closer to the cock that rests below you. It’s just as he promised, hung like forbidden fruit above another man. Your dominant’s flare for the poetic never failing to surprise you.

“Problem babygirl?” Namjoon cooes in your ear. “Do you have something you want to say?”

“No sir.”

“Good, because if I recall you still need to be punished for your lack of formality on the phone earlier today.” 

Your stomach drops as you realize he’s going to discipline you right now, in full view of Taehyung. The heat rises to your face at the thought of being demeaned in front of another. Namjoon’s hand cups your bare ass, readying it for the assault. “You failed to call me sir twice, three for each lapse should do it.”

While the first strike eases you in, those that follow are not so gentle. The ring of his index biting your flesh with each impact. The third strike is so strong you pivot forward on your knees, your back arching as you bare forward still confined to the corset and chains. The weight of your body pulls painfully on your shoulders for a brief second, but Namjoon is there to catch you. Stopping you before you can slip and more, and propping you back in place before continuing. 

One hand lays firmly on your stomach to prevent the shift from happening again, while the other rubs the curve of your ass mapping where he should strike next. You can feel the warmth in your skin as the blood rises to the surface in reaction to his beating. Your nerves are caught in the struggle between pain and pleasure, even as the sixth and final blow lands. 

“Good girl.” Namjoon whispers his touch disappearing, as you ease down against your restraints. You hang completely by your wrists while your legs quake from the shock. Every nerve in your body feels as though it’s been left on fire with nothing to quench the flames. Leaving you to hang there for what seems like eternity.

“Sir?” You whisper in the dark as the heat continues to build inside you. Wondering where he has gone your body reacts, begging for the return of his attention with a dripping cunt. And with Taehyung below that can only mean the steady drip of your arousal is left to fall on him.

“Babygirl you’re making such a mess.” Namjoon confirms along with a groan from the man beneath you. “But he appears to be leaking too. Do you want some?” You nod eager for a taste. 

Namjoon obliges, grabbing your throat in one hand, he presses a damp finger to your lips for you to take. Your mouth latches over the offered digit, allowing the bitter fluid to sweep over your tongue. You're forced to let it sit there unable to swallow as the grip on your throat tightens, with the strap of the collar digging into your skin. Your mouth fills with saliva prompting you to close it despite your desperate need for air. 

“Does he taste good?” Namjoon wickedly possesses knowing you can barely even nod. It’s when you start to tremble that he finally releases your airway. 

You swallow quickly before letting your mouth hang open in a pant. With your lungs still restricted by the corset your breathing comes in short shuddering waves. “Yes sir, so good.”

“I think he likes having you drench him, shall we give him more?”

“Please.” You beg but Namjoon suddenly delivers a staggering blow to your backside, indicating your misstep. You’re left gasping from the sudden impact, swinging in the restraints as you try to recoil. “Please sir.” Your plea comes again this time with the proper decorum.  

There’s a crinkle of what sounds like a condom wrapper as Namjoon readies himself behind you. His fingers damp with lubrication find your back entrance, your tight hole giving way to a single finger. “You’ve been training for me like I asked?”

“Yes sir.” You almost come at the thought of it along with pleasure with the swirling digit. You’ve dabbled in anal before testing out a few toys, but a few weeks ago he sent you a plug with a tapered t-shaped end, giving you strict orders to wear it to work the following day. Unfortunately that was the date you had scheduled a meeting with your whole team. You were a flustered mess as you fought through your presentation, Jimin’s presence by your side making it so much more difficult to maintain control of your arousal . But the full day of public and torturous stimulation was worth it, for the reward that night was a call from Namjoon. His orders led you through every action of self pleasure.  Telling you when and where to touch before finally directing you to come. You’ve used the item several times on your own since, knowing your practice would help you in this moment. You wanted to make Namjoon proud and take him with little resistance. That desire now intensified with having Taehyung as an audience.

“Then you're ready to take me in front of him?” 

You nod gripping chains of the restraints as Namjoon eases into you. “Just relax.” His hands glide down your shoulders and back, coming to rest splayed across your hips, the tips of his finger root under the corset and dig into your stomach. Your grip eases as you lean back into him. “That’s it.” He mutters quietly as you stretch to accommodate him. “Good girl.”

After taking a few inches Namjoon pushes down on the front of your corset bowing the metal latches back to so they release, with a few clicks and swift presses the garment is off allowing you to breathe deeper than you have all day. 

“God you should see him babygirl, he’s so ruined by the sight of you. You have him panting for you.” You wish you could curse Namjoon for his choice to blindfold you and silence Taehyung, you would take any punishment that came of it, but all you can muster is a gasp while he continues to fill you more. “I wonder how he’ll react,” One of Namjoon’s hands leaves your hips coming to rest with something soft against your aching clit. “When he sees you come.” With a click the object vibrates, throwing you back completely onto Namjoons cock from the shock.

You catch Namjoon’s lustful groan between your cries. He starts to thrust inside of you one hand gripping your chest while the other holds the vibrate down in place despite your bucking hips. It doesn’t take long for you to completely fold. As the heat inside you finally reaches its peak you shatter, your head falling back on Namjoon’s shoulder as you convulse and moan. With nothing for your cunt to clench your legs grip the trussed man between them. He too lets out a sinful groan as the fluids from your fold continue to drip down your legs meet his adjoining skin. 

Namjoon turns the device off and slips out, the bed shifts as he moves in front of you. When his hand cups your face you lean into his touch. “You okay?”

You nod hoping he’ll be lenient with your lack of speech. You hear him whisper as he checks in with Taehyung too. “I’m going to take these now.” Namjoon must finally be freeing him from the waded underwear of yours.

Namjoon’s hands find you again, playing with the arousal dripping down your legs as he drags his fingers up to the source. A finger grazes your folds slipping between without penetrating. You pull desperately against your restraints hoping that it might find its way inside.  

“So are you going to tell me who you’re not allowed to have?” Namjoon asks again. “Or do I have to let you hang here all night?” 

“My secretary...” You give in with a  whisper, hoping that Taehyung won’t hear.

“And what’s his name? Say it and I’ll give you what you want.” 

The deal is too good for you to resist, you last only a couple more seconds before finally giving in. Crying out, “Jimin,” as two of Namjoon’s fingers breach you. Your sopping slit squelching as he curls his fingers. 

“There it is.” Namjoon sighs, his other hand brushing your cheek. “Is he the reason you’re so worked up tonight babygirl?”

“Y-yes sir.” You stutter as his fingers continue. He gives you another minute of bliss before removing his digits. 

“You’re going to do something for me, okay?” Namjoon asks. You nod as he continues to hold your face. “That man between your legs, you are going to fuck him and imagine Jimin as you do so, is that clear?” 

“Yes sir.”

“Is that okay with you pet?” He asks the other occupant, who still remains silent with his answers. The sound of another condom wrapper, comes as your confirmation.  Taehyung lets out an unexpected high pitched whine, likely due to the pressure that comes with the latex being rubbed down his shaft. You’re already so invested in the lie that he’s even starting to sound like Jimin. 

Namjoon is once again behind you. You can hear the rattle of the length of chain that holds you up and as he sinks back into you, his cock slipping in far easier this time, your body gladly welcomes the fullness of his intrusion.  He then lowers you inch by inch, with little strength left in your legs you are relying only on the restraints and Namjoon to hold you up. After gaining a bit more freedom you can feel the tip of a cock brushing up against you. Namjoon’s arm comes to rest on your thigh as he lines the erection up for you to take it inside. It’s a slow descent, as you stretch to accommodate both of them. Your thankful Namjoon’s mercy for easing you down gradually. 

When you bottom out Namjoon pulls the chain down from the rafters he releases the length from your cuffs, but rather than discarding it he attaches it to your collar, tugging on it as if it’s a leash. Though your hands are still bound together you have the freedom to rest them on the man laying down in front of you. You take pleasure in dragging the tips of your fingers across his skin, feeling his abs flex and his cock twitch inside you as you do so. 

Namjoon starts to thrust, keeping a close hold on your collar. While he pushes you are sent up and down on what you desperately want to be Jimin’s thick cock. After a few thrusts you are shoved forward entirely by Namjoon, colliding with the man beneath you. Your chest is pushed into his, as your bound hands are pinned between the two of you. While your head is left to rest on his shoulder, the tip of your nose is able to graze his neck. As you breathe in your mind continues to play tricks, the smell coming off him mimics that of the cologne your secretary wears, rather than the scent of Taehyung. 

Namjoon must have unbound his legs as they bend up to cradle your own from behind his hips bucking into yours, with both men taking you at a steady pace.

You move in closer to his neck, with a lick you taste the salt of his skin showing  your intentions. Biting down on the spot, you suck in deeply as your teeth dig in even harder. The carnal groans you receive from him sending shivers to your spine. There’s the sound of a soft slap, Namjoon didn’t hit you, but the man beneath you returns to his ordered silence.

Namjoon thrusts even harder, pushing you into his chest repeatedly. The thought of being fucked into Jimin’s embrace is too much to bear. Your cunt clenches as you continue envisioning your secretary, and how you're grinding your clit against his pelvis. 

You cry out over the swelling girths inside you, knowing their both likely to come soon. Clenching down one last time you dissolve in the pleasure and contentment. Namjoon finishes first remaining inside while his pet comes too. He leaves you there laying upon your imagined Jimin, in your daze  you can barely move let alone focus on reality. With a wave of exhaustion you start to slip from consciousness, but not before one last praise reaches your ears. Your delirium grants you the satisfaction of hearing the voice of Jimin whisper, “Good girl.”

...

You can’t remember the last time you slept so well. You woke early to find Namjoon had taken care of you in the night, he released your wrist cuffs, and removed your blindfold, after you had passed out from the physical exertion. The only restraint to remain was your collar which he asked you to wear today. Taehyung was sadly already gone, but you can’t deny it was nice to have Namjoon to yourself before you left. 

Now as you head off to work, showered and freshly dressed, with a turtleneck hiding your gift, you check your phone for the first time. Finding a string of apologetic messages sent from Jimin in the early hours of the morning. You reply apologizing too and asking to revisit the subject as soon as you get into work. Thankfully he agrees, the smiling emoji he ends his text on sends a wave of relief through you.

You step in the front entrance of your building ready to handle and objectively listen to Jimin’s thoughts and concerns. While you wait for the elevator your phone vibrates listing a call from an unknown number. “Hello?”

“Hey it’s Taehyung. Hope you don’t mind, I stole your personal number from my father.”

“Taehyung...” Heat starts to rise in your face at the thought of last night. The elevator arrives and you quickly step in. “No, not at all, to what do I owe the honour of this call.”

“No need to be so formal,” He giggles at you.

“Sorry, habit,” You respond. “What can I do for you?” 

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday...” Taehyung starts off. 

But his words are soon interrupted by someone shouting, “Hold the door.” You comply, pushing the button to keep them open, while trying to keep your focus on your conversation with Taehyung.

“...It’s not often that I meet someone who I can be so open with. I called the man you recommended and I’ve scheduled my first session with him tomorrow.”  

You freeze, unable to fully comprehend what he’s saying, surely he misspoke. It can’t be his first session. “W-what do you mean your first session is tomorrow? You were there-” The collar hidden beneath your turtleneck feels as though it’s tightening around your throat. “Last night, I saw you-” The line goes dead as the elevator closes and starts to ascend. It was Taehyung in the bed with you and Namjoon last night. You saw... nothing you saw nothing because of the blindfolded that you were asked to wear.

“Everything okay?” You jump at the sound of the other voice, forgetting that some else had gotten into the elevator. Looking up you find Jimin there beaming at you, his head tilted from his query.

“Namjoon,” You flutter with your phone, too panicked to even greet your secretary properly. “I need to call Namjoon.” But the line won’t connect, not with you in the elevator. “Fuck...” You try again your patience not willing to wait the minute it’ll take to disembark on your floor.  

You are almost there when the elevator shudders and stops. The sudden halt sends you off balance, but Jimin’s there to grab hold of you before you can fall. You thank him before stepping back and putting a bit of distance between the two of you again.

Jimin turns his attention to the panel, pushing the call button, he waits for someone to answer, but the call remains silent. 

While he continues in his attempt to make contact, every scene of the night before floods back to your memory as you try to piece everything together. It was Taehyung, it had to be. He must just be playing a stupid joke. He was surely going to shout ‘gotcha’ before the phone disconnected, but you won’t know for certain until someone can get you off this blasted lift. You sink to the floor and Jimin follows, unable to reach anyone on the outside. 

Despite your best efforts to rationalize what happened, your panicked breaths fail to slow, Spots start appearing in your vision as the elevator sways around you. Your breakfast threatens to make another appearance on the polished marble floor. 

“It’ll be fine. Someone will notice soon.” Jimin attempts to comfort you but even that won’t quash the fear raging inside you.

“It’s not just that...” You whisper. “Something happened last night. I need to call Namjoon, I need to figure out...” Who was actually in that bed with you. Your confusion and panic break free sending you into a fit of tears as you hug your knees to your chest.

“Hush, it’s okay.” Jimin readjusts, moving in front of you and taking your hands in his. He leans towards you as he whispers in your ear. “Don’t cry babygirl.”

Your eyes snap to look at Jimin in alarm. Your prior worries are nothing compared to the terror which takes hold now. “H-how do you know that name?” Your stuttered words barely make their way past your lips.

“I think you know the answer to that question.” He pulls at the collar of his shirt allowing you to spot a large red mark on his neck, right where you had bitten the man you once thought to be Taehyung. “I wanted to wait a bit longer, I wanted more moments like we had last night but it would seem that someone had to go and ruin it.” You pull back but Jimin’s hands shift to take hold of your wrists, mimicking the manacles that embraced you the night before. “Are you not happy babygirl? You got your wish. And I... I got what I’ve always wanted.”

“This is so wrong Jimin! You knew I thought you were someone else! You knew that I wouldn’t have done that last night if I knew the truth.” 

“Even though I was the one you really wanted babygirl?”

“Stop calling me that! Just because of what happened last night does not make me yours. You lied to Namjoon. You said that I sent you. You told him you were Taehyung!”

Jimin gives a wicked laugh in response to your accusations. “Oh, but you are mine. Namjoon is the one who’s been keeping things from you. He’s been in my employ far longer than yours.” He coos as his fingers tighten their grip on you. “I was the reason you were introduced to him, and I was the one who bestowed you with that name shortly after.”

“No, that’s not possible, Namjoon and I, we met at a charity event.”

“Hosted by my father. Where I told him to make himself known to you, to entice you to become one of his pets. I may have acted the sub last night but I am the one who holds Namjoon’s reins, I always have.”

“No he would never do that! He’s considerate and-”

“Had so much to gain by dominating you on my behalf. Money, power, and an assurance of safety, he would’ve been a fool to turn my offer down. Especially since you were so willing to play along with him. I dare say he enjoyed his time with you, but I was the one who permitted him to touch you. I was there to listen, to read, and to direct every conversation. Those gifts he told you to wear to the office, they were all from me.” He lets go of one of your wrists to pull down the neck of your shirt. Revealing the leather band strapped around your neck. “Today it’s the collar, yesterday it was the corset, and a few weeks ago...” Jimin smirks as he recalls the memory to your mind. “You barely made it through that meeting thanks to my gift.”

  It’s impossible to swallow the admissions coming from him, but regardless of what may be true or false, you won’t stand for any of it. “You’ve had your fun, but this ends now.” You reach up attempting to remove the collar but Jimin pushes you to the floor pinning your arms above you as he straddles you. The elevator wavers from the struggle, teetering as you lay captive beneath him. 

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’ve placed yourself in. I hold in my possession your darkest secrets. One’s that will ruin you if they make their way out. Your illegal activity with a sex worker, your inappropriate sexual conduct with your secretary. Not to mention the names and dubious activities of every client you’ve recommended to Namjoon’s services.”  

“Why... why are you doing this?” 

“Because you found me. I worked so hard to exploit my father from the outside, getting everything I wanted without the threat of public exposure. I couldn’t let you ruin it all. When we first met I considered you a threat, but then I saw how easy and enjoyable it was to mould to my will. The more intimate you become with someone the more power you give them over you. Simply being your secretary isn’t enough, not if I want you in a more pliable state.” Jimin hushed whisper mixes with a haunting giggle as his lips come to your ear. “I plan to bend you to fit every one of my needs.”

“You’re psychotic!” You lash out trying to throw him off but he stems your revolt by planting himself further down on to you, sitting on your chest as the elevator sways.

“Psychotic? No, I am simply a man who found his passion amidst his revenge. I know what I desire, and vengeance has taught me how best to take it. So if you want to keep yourself and everything else around you from falling, I suggest you play along like a good girl. Or I promise you, my punishments won’t be as kind as what you’ve experienced before.”

“What is it that you want?” You ask, already fearing his answer. He has you trapped in a gilded cage with him, where one misstep will send you plummeting to meet your end. Nothing that comes accompanied by such threats can be palatable.

“At work? To keep the status quo, I’ll remain your secretary, only so I can keep a better hold on you.” 

“Hoseok won’t agree to that. He already thinks I should ditch you. I should have listened to him.” 

“Then you will make him agree or he might have an accident, much like your accountant did. He too thought we were too close, even threatened to say something. Don’t worry I saved us from him, just as I’ll save us from Hoseok if you can’t convince him to back off. Do you think you can get him to agree now?”

You give a solemn nod, with Hoseok on the line you have no choice.

“After hours, we’ll drop the middleman.” Jimin lowers himself further on to you, laying down on top, his weight flattening you to the floor. With his head coming to rest on your restrained arm as he whispers further plans. “Every night you’ll come to me instead, and every morning you’ll have a new gift to wear. When we step off this elevator you’ll act as if nothing is wrong. You will go about business as usual, is that clear babygirl?”

You stifle a sob staring directly up and away from his eyes, not daring to give him the satisfaction of your fear. With little else to cling to, all you can do is agree for the time being, as much as it pains you, you choke out your compliance. “Yes...” 

“Yes what?” Jimin purrs, his lips faintly touching your ear. “Address me properly, or I will find ways to discipline you right here on this lift.” His fingers tighten and nails bite into your skin.

“Yes sir,” you whine as a plea for him to stop. 

Jimin mercifully lessens his hold on your wrists, hitting you instead with a smirk and befouled praise. “Good girl. I knew you’d finally see that I’m worth the risk.”

...